Beyond the Amazon: The Cerrado (Savannah) Biome and COP 30
By Dandara Tonantzin*
Amidst the hustle and bustle over the Amazon rainforests, a silent giant is crying out for attention: the Cerrado. The second largest biome in South America, it covers 2,036,448 km² – the equivalent of 22% of Brazil’s territory, spread across ten states and the Federal District (Goiás, Mato Grosso, Mato Grosso do Sul, Minas Gerais, Maranhão, Bahia, Piauí, Tocantins, Roraima and Pará). But, in the wake of the heated debates at COP 30, why does the Cerrado remain relegated to the background?
From the first light of day until nightfall, the Cerrado is alive with life. It is home to almost 30% of the country’s surface water, feeding dozens of basins that bathe other biomes. And yet, it lives under the seal of more flexible laws that allow unrestrained exploitation – the legal reserve there corresponds to only 20% of land property, compared to the 80% required in the Amazon. In the areas classified as the Legal Amazon, this rate increases to 35%, but in much of the biome, the logic is clear: to treat the Cerrado as a sacrificial zone.
This is what can be seen in the data from the Annual Report on Deforestation in Brazil, from the MapBiomas network, released in May 2025, which indicates that the Cerrado was the most devastated Brazilian ecosystem in 2024: 652,197 hectares.
Largely because of this, President Lula's goal of Zero Deforestation by 2030 is at risk despite the advances in deforestation in the Amazon region, as found in studies by the National Institute for Space Research (INPE) and the University of São Paulo. The Report indicates a 32.4% reduction in deforestation, considering all Brazilian biomes – with emphasis on the Amazon region, which registered a 54% drop between 2022 and 2024. This is data that we celebrate, the result of the efforts of President Lula's government to reverse the previous policy of implementing policies beyond closed doors as advocated by the then Minister of the Environment of the Bolsonaro government. But in the Cerrado the situation is reversed, especially in Matopiba, a region in the northeast of the country that recorded 75% of the deforestation in the Cerrado and 42% of all the loss of native vegetation in the country, as reported by the G1 portal.
The main driver of this deforestation is agricultural expansion. Farms expand, machines plough through trees, undergrowth and roots, and the degraded soil ceases to fulfill its role as a natural sponge. As a direct consequence, springs dry up, the hydrological cycle is broken, and other regions suffer in the wake of the devastation. The São Francisco River, which quenches the thirst of 15 million Brazilians, is already feeling the pressure; the Tocantins basin is losing volume in areas crucial for irrigation; and the Pantanal, one of the largest wetlands in the world, is cooling its exuberance.
But the impact goes far beyond maps and graphs. In the Cerrado, environmental racism is also at work, a thorny bush that is slowly killing vulnerable communities: indigenous peoples, quilombolas, family farmers, and traditional populations. The loss of land and natural resources becomes synonymous with forced exile; the contamination of water and soil, respiratory diseases and chronic health problems; and cultural erosion, the irreversible impoverishment of ancestral knowledge. All of this is accompanied by a symphony of human rights violations.
Behind this bleak picture, there are deep roots: land inequality, which concentrates land in the hands of a few; the lack of legal recognition of traditional territories; institutional discrimination that silences voices; and public policies designed more to favor agribusiness than to protect ecosystems and populations. It is an explosive combination of predatory economic power and state omission.
We can still choose another path. First, by officially recognizing territorial rights – immediate and secure demarcations for Indigenous peoples and quilombolas. We need to ensure the implementation of inclusive public policies that integrate the participation of traditional communities in the management of natural resources. It is also urgent to invest in environmental education, from schools to rural extension programs, to show that conserving the Cerrado means guaranteeing water, a stable climate, and healthy food. Environmental justice needs to advance vigorously. We need to commit to sustainable development that harmonizes agricultural production with standing forests – models of crop-livestock-forest integration (ILPF) have already demonstrated positive results in Cerrado soil.
In the final stretch towards COP 30, the Cerrado expects more than just formal mentions: it seeks solid commitments, ambitious goals, and real funding for its conservation. If we ignore this giant of biodiversity and water sources, we will condemn not only ourselves, but also future generations to a scenario of scarcity, conflicts, and socio-environmental crises. The time to act is now – each preserved tree, each stream that still runs, each community that resists, is a cry for life that echoes beyond the Cerrado.
*Dandara Tonantzin is a federal congresswomn (PT/MG), President of the Amazon and Indigenous and Traditional Peoples Commission of the Chamber of Deputies and coordinator of the Cerrado Defense Group of the Environmental Parliamentary Front.
This article was written for issue 168 of the WBO newsletter, dated May 30, 2025. To subscribe and receive free weekly news and analysis like this, simply enter your email in the field provided.
