Author: Emily Kerimian

The People’s Plenary

On Thursday, November 21st, 2024, I attended, in my opinion, the most powerful and emotionally stirring event of Conference of the Parties-29 (COP-29) in Baku, Azerbaijan: the People’s Plenary, or the People’s COP.

Before I can discuss what I saw at this People’s Plenary, I think it is important that I address the purpose of the event. The People’s Plenary is a space where Indigenous Peoples, youth groups and delegations, including YOUNGO, women, farmers, environmental NGOs, and other activists gather together to voice their frustrations with the COP processes, but also their hope for what they believe the future can look like if large actions are taken to advance climate justice. This year, these groups called for an increase in climate finance, because COP-29 was billed as “The Finance COP”.

Given that COP was hosted in Baku, the capital of Azerbaijan, it was understood before COP began that protests and activist activity would be limited, given the repressive nature of the Azerbaijani government. I did see activists outside the Side Event rooms, but they had strict guidelines to follow, and had to conclude their presentations and clear the hall after their time-slot ended. The People’s Plenary is a forum where activists’ work is accepted and can be celebrated, and criticism can be voiced safely and heard by empathetic peers.

This event, while listed on the official UNFCCC schedule of COP, is scarcely attended by negotiators. In fact, when queueing to enter the Caspian Plenary Room, where the event was being held, those with yellow observer-designated badges had priority. This is not the case for most rooms where negotiations are held. The room filled up very quickly, with observers and side-event speakers from all over the world and from many different walks of life when the security guards finally allowed access.

My view from the front row of the audience of the stage in the Caspian Plenary.

On that particular day at COP-29, the official theme of the day was, “Indigenous Peoples, Gender Equality, Nature & Biodiversity, & Oceans & Coastal Zones”. However, the theme of the People’s Plenary was, “Pay Up, Stand Up: Finance Climate Action, Not Genocide”. This title accurately expressed the frustrations of the many speakers and the groups they represented, especially because many hail from the Global South, where communities disproportionately face the effects of a climate catastrophe that they did not contribute to nearly as much as corporations and governments in the Global North.

The banner of the COP-29 People’s Plenary.

The first speakers, introduced by the Chair of the Plenary, spoke on behalf of Palestine, Lebanon, and South Sudan. All women, they expressed their anguish about the suffering their people have faced. They highlighted the compounding negative effects of climate change that threaten the lives of people whose lives are already endangered, and how war and devastation of cities likewise contribute to climate change and pollution. Each speaker conveyed her hurt and anger that the name of her respective homeland would not and could not be uttered in negotiations.

This resonated with me deeply, as an Armenian-American woman. My grandfather’s family fled Armenian when my grandfather, John Kerimian, and his twin brother, Ray Kerimian, were infants, and his sister, Jacqueline Kerimian, was a young teenager. Currently, there are more Armenians living in diaspora than in Armenia. Recently, millions of indigenous Armenians living in Artsakh, or Nagorno Karabakh, were forced to leave their homeland when Azerbaijan asserted that the territory belonged to them and occupied the region. In the halls of the Conference of the Parties-29, I did not hear anyone mention Armenia either.

The introduction of the People’s Plenary provoked deep emotions within me. As I wiped away tears, I made eye contact with the women around me, and felt a sense of solidarity and understanding pass between us. The mood of the rest of the Plenary, though, was more fiery, with attendees calling for “Trillions, Not Billions”, referring to the New Collective Quantified Goal (NCQG). The NCQG is a target established in the Paris Agreement in 2015, which was formerly 100 billion USD. The purpose of the NCQG is to raise climate finance for developing countries, which can help these nations fund mitigation efforts, adapt to climate change, and recover when natural disasters destroy industries and displace people.

One of the speakers that I found very riveting, was an activist fighting in the larger Global Climate Justice Movement. He spoke passionately and emphasized that the struggle for climate justice is inextricably linked to the global push to end genocides and wars. This intersectionality was not unknown to me, but hearing it stressed at a prestigious conference was empowering. Sitting in that vast room, I thought of the work of my peers and my own environmental justice work, and felt a wave of resolve to continue advocating for and standing with people being unfairly harmed by climate change pass through me.

At the end of the Plenary, citizens of the Global North were called to stand and recite a pledge to support the Global South and push for justice wherever and whenever, no matter what. Now COP has ended, and the NCQG was actually set at 300 billion USD, when nations from the Global South stated that 1.3 trillion would be needed to combat climate change. While it may seem like this would be devastating to the attendees of the People’s Plenary, I suspect they will maintain their hope, passion, and action, and continue to push for climate action.

Overall, I am grateful that I was able to attend COP-29, and attend the People’s Plenary. It will be a memory I cherish for a long time, especially as I plan to attend law school, and persist in my activism.

Cultural Snapshots: Engaging with Azerbaijani Culture in the COP-29 Green Zone

Emily Kerimian ’25, Swarthmore College; Honors Environmental Studies major and Honors German Studies minor

Before arriving at the Conference of the Parties-29 (COP-29), I had a fairly clear idea of what I would see in this international and multilateral climate change conference hosted by the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC): busy, tense negotiations, where every word, comma, and bracket is scrutinized, side events and press conferences, where adaptation, mitigation, and loss and damage are discussed at length, and pavilions, where delegate Parties (i.e countries) host events to show off their progress in achieving their goals and discuss future ambitions and other non-Party groups can educate visitors about their role in combating the climate crisis. I even expected to see protests, even if in a diminished form. All these events take place in the Blue Zone, where you need a badge, indicating your name, affiliation, days of access, and classification. I attended this conference as an observer, a role meant to inspire negotiators to action, serving as the general public’s eyes. My badge only became active on Tuesday, November 19th. Thus, on Monday, November 18th, I entered the Green Zone.

The Green Zone is an area of COPs that does not host negotiations. Instead, it features rows upon rows of booths set up for varying purposes. Typically, at these booths, you can find activist groups, or non-governmental organizations (NGOs), and spaces to interact with highly-informed people from all walks of life. This year, at COP-29, I saw many booths dedicated to businesses. One particular business that stood out to me happened to be SOCAR, the State Oil Company of Azerbaijan. The prevalence of business in the Green Zone disheartened me. However, I continued to explore the Green Zone, seeking for something to re-inspire me.

While searching for the Art Pavilion in the afternoon, I stumbled across the “Azerbaijan” area at the center of the Green Zone. When I inquired about the Art Pavilion at the information desk, I was informed that there was indeed art and demonstrations occurring in the Azerbaijan Pavilion of the Green Zone. The kind volunteer steered me to the other side of the space, where I was handed a complementary cup of tea and a plate of traditional Azerbaijani sweets. Having not eaten since breakfast, I was grateful for the respite. After I finished my unexpected treat, I floated from demonstration to demonstration, absorbing more culture and kindness. Artisans from across the country, including remote villages, had been brought to the conference to share their talents and traditions with the visitors of COP. First, I learned how to make a shabaka, or shebeke in Azerbaijani, a stained-glass window. These intricate, lattice wood and glass structures captured my eye, but proved to be difficult to assemble. However, the artist was patient, guiding my hand, allowing me to mirror his work.

After thanking the man, and taking a quick picture of my handiwork, I approached a table covered in several detailed embroidered canvasses. Takelduz, or the art of embroidery, is a long-standing folk art tradition in Azerbaijan. Back in the United States, on Swarthmore’s campus, my best friend, who is incredibly gifted at embroidery, would have been delighted. I, meanwhile, timidly approached the table, to admire the craft. The woman making quick stitches beckoned me, and began to show me how the pattern takes shape. I copied her, falling into the easy rhythm, making the outline of her newest design take shape. This is a skill that I can see myself adapting into my own life, as it offers a great chance to be deliberate and contemplative, especially when topics, like the threat of climate catastrophe threaten to become overwhelming.

Next, I observed a woman weaving a rug by hand. She sat at a low bench, hands fluttering over a loom with a third-of-the-way finished rug. The volunteer returned, to let me know that the finished rug would take months, if not a year to complete. To me, the process of making a complex silk rug requires a similar brand of patience and faith that is necessary when waiting to see the outcomes of climate negotiations. Inspired by watching a silk rug being woven in real time, I made sure to bring home a small traditional rug for my parents, who to this day lament about passing up an opportunity to buy a large, shimmery silk carpet on a trip to Turkey.

The topmost rug with the circular pattern was the one I brought home for my family.
It now sits in my parents’ dining room.

In the same vicinity, I saw village women, darning with spools of wool. Again, I relied on the translation skills of the volunteer. She explained to me that in more remote areas, outside Baku, the capital, families make their own clothes out of wool. They work in phases, gathering the fibers and threads, spinning them into wool, dying that wool, and finally making items of clothing. In a world where the allure and ease of purchasing fast fashion abounds, seeing this strong example of reliance on personal skills and local resources made a strong impression on me at COP.

I then noticed that the table where a copper-smith was sitting was vacant. I took a seat and felt the grooves where he had etched a design into the copper. I summoned my courage and attempted to initiate a conversation in Russian. As a third-semester student, I feel my abilities are far from polished, but Russian is the second-most spoken language in Azerbaijan, and I enjoy making an effort to engage with people in a local language, if I am able. The man understood my Russian, and asked me how I learned, which gave me the chance to say that I was a student. While we chatted, I noticed he was working on a small piece. The volunteer looped back to the table to tell me he was making a ring for me. When he finished the piece, I noticed it had “COP-29” etched on it. It is a keepsake that will remind me of the beautiful and impactful time I spent in the Green Zone on my very first day of COP, and the connection I made in my third language.

For my last station, I visited a woman drawing henna. I had never had henna drawn, and the volunteer seemed thrilled on my behalf for my first henna experience being in Azerbaijan. As I watched the woman ink out a delicate flower, complete with leaves, and “Baku” with a heart, I reflected on this portion of my day. I had expected to be inundated with climate and UNFCCC lexicon, and negotiation updates. I did not expect an intimate look at the fascinating culture of COP’s host country. While I do not agree with the government of Azerbaijan, and still harbor mixed feelings about the decision to host COP-29 in an authoritative petrostate that has a recent history of ethnic cleansing, I feel nothing but love and respect for the people who took time and care to show visitors to COP the crafts of their homeland.