Since it transitioned to a market economy in the early 1990s, Mongolia has taken a series of measures to liberalise and privatise its economy. It joined the World Trade Organisation (WTO) in 1997 and over a 30-year period since the early 1990s, it has entered into 44 Bilateral Investment Agreements, of which 37 are currently in effect.¹ It is also party to five Free Trade Agreements (FTAs), of which two are in effect.² These agreements have facilitated trade and the entry of foreign investment into the country, much of which have been targeted at Mongolia’s vast natural resources. In December 2022, Foreign Direct Investment (FDI) in mining and quarrying reached an all-time high of 20.175 bn USD, averaging over 15 bn USD between December 2010 – December 2022.<sup3 According to the World Bank’s latest Economic Update for Mongolia, the over-reliance on the mining sector, external sector imbalances, increasing fiscal risks and high levels of debt pose serious challenges for the economy.⁴

In December 2022, Mongolia’s external debt reached 33.6 bn USD, which is a little under its all-time high of 33.9 USD bn recorded in March 2022, as compared with 4.2 bn USD in September 2000.⁵ This constitutes about 70 per cent of GDP — over 90 per cent of which is denominated in foreign exchange, raising serious questions about Mongolia’s external debt sustainability.⁶ Moreover, as a response to the pandemic, the World Bank and the Asian Development Bank provided support to Mongolia in the form of loans. These measures will further push Mongolia’s debt into unsustainable territory because of expected waves of austerity measures with damaging consequences for women’s rights.⁷ As women’s rights groups have repeatedly highlighted, debt has highly gendered impacts, particularly as the effect of debt is cuts to public spending, which in turn lead to reductions in the availability of essential public services. This interferes with women’s enjoyment of their rights in several ways – not only are women more reliant on public services and social security guarantees than men, but they are also the ones who are left to fill the gaps in the provision that occurs when services are reduced.⁸

Another impact of the liberalisation measures, particularly the investment agreements, have been the use of Investor State Dispute Settlement (ISDS) mechanisms which enable foreign corporations to sue sovereign governments if they deem that their profits are in any way affected by governmental action. Since 2001, the Mongolian government has been at the receiving end of six ISDS cases raised by foreign investors of which five relate to investments in the mining sector.⁹ Of these five, there is no available data on one of the cases, two disputes remain pending and two cases have been decided – one in favour of the investor and one in favour of the government. In the case that was found in favour of the investor, the government was asked to pay 80 million USD, and in the two disputes that remain pending, investors have made claims of the Mongolian government to the tune of 1 bn USD and 145 million USD respectively.

The high expectations that the extractive industries would not just contribute to economic growth but also increase productive employment and reduce poverty have not been adequately met over the years. Foreign investment in mining has created only a limited number of jobs. In 2022, the sector employed just 56,003 people (of whom only 16 per cent were female) as opposed to the agricultural and livestock sector, which employed 291,678 people in the same year (of whom 43 per cent were women).¹⁰ Moreover, the sector has had deep impacts on women’s human rights and Development Justice as it relies on large-scale land and resource grabbing that detrimentally impact women’s lives and livelihoods that are rooted in Mongolia’s pastoral economy and traditional nomadic life, including their herding rights.¹¹

As a recent fact-finding mission conducted in October 2022 by FORUM-ASIA and Centre for Human Rights and Development (CHRD) found, pastoral communities in areas such Ulaaanbadrakh soum of Dornogovi province, who have called this land their home for decades, were slowly losing their rights over it.

“With the support of the government, mining companies were taking over not just the land of communities, but also their air, water, livelihoods as well as their health.”

The report found that the shrinking of pastureland not only adversely impacted the income and traditional livelihoods and ways of life of herding communities, there was also a deterioration in the health of the community, owing to the dust and chemicals generated from the mining operations. There was also a reduction in water sources which increased water insecurities. The report also found an increase in air and water pollution as a result of the mining operations, and an increased desertification, which in turn contributes to climate change. Additionally, the report found that communities are being threatened into silence, with targeted attacks on human rights defenders, including Women Human Rights Defenders becoming more commonplace.^{12, 13}

Over recent years, state policies in Mongolia have been largely supportive of large business groups and their interests. Currently, a new draft law on Public Private Partnerships (PPP) is in the process of development. In 2009, the State Policy on PPP was adopted to promote private sector participation in the provision of infrastructure. This was followed by the Law of Concession in 2010, which laid out the processes of implementation of PPPs through the grant of rights to the private sector to possess, use, build and improve state or locally owned properties. Following this, the Procedure for Competitive Concession Bid Selection and the Procedure for Evaluating Concession Bids in 2012 were initiated to regulate the allocation of various development projects in infrastructure and social sectors in Ulaanbaatar and the countryside. By 2013, the approved List of Concessions included 234 projects targeting various infrastructure and basic services such as road and transportation, communications, rail, education and health.¹

However, despite this regulatory landscape, there continue to be gaps, particularly in the granting of concessions through direct contracting and in the mechanisms to monitor and control PPPs.² Moreover, PPPs have not led to either improved access or quality of essential services. In fact, ground reports suggest that the quality of the health service, in which there has been management privatisation for more than 10 years, has worsened over this period. In other words, the involvement of private businesses in schools and hospitals has contributed to inequalities by dividing the population.

Given the enduring history of centuries of Mongolian pastoralism, land has traditionally been understood and protected as common property. In the early years of the transition to a free-market economy, for the first time in 1991, through a revision to the Constitution, individuals were allowed to own private land in urban settlements, even as pastoral land and other natural resources continued to remain state property.¹ This change was legislated upon in 1994 through the first Land Law, and since then, there have been a series of legislations that have elaborated on various types of land tenure, the rules for ownership and allocation of land, as well as instituting a right for all Mongolian citizens to a free piece of land. However, there continues to be a lack of transparency, legal inconsistencies, and manipulation of allocation of land. And on the question of women’s land rights, although women have formal equality in relation to inheritance, land use and ownership of property, often during land privatisation however, titles are placed in the name of the male household head, rather than through joint titling.² Moreover, it is difficult to gather the extent of gendered disparities in land ownership owing to the lack of gender disaggregated data.

In relation to land use, particularly since the transition to the market economy, there have been several changes to patterns of land use which impact women’s human rights and Development Justice. Not only has increased urbanisation put pressure on public services and provisions in cities such as Ulaanbaatar, but there has also been shifts in patterns of nomadic pastoralism with herding becoming more fixed around community settlements. This has been accompanied by an increase in the numbers of livestock with the animal population doubling in the country in less than 10 years, intensifying overgrazing.³

Another shift in land use has come from the mining sector.

“Although foreign ownership of land is not permitted, the state has leased land to both domestic and foreign companies, with the vast majority of leases involving the mining sector. In 2020, there were 2,641 active licences to explore or mine 57 types of minerals in Mongolia, covering four per cent of the total land area of Mongolia”⁴

The sector, as we have seen, impacts not just the lives, livelihoods and rights of herding communities, but it also has sustained environmental impacts.

Mongolia has seen an intensifying series of climate crises in the form of substantially higher temperatures which have contributed to the drying up of the country’s water resources. There has also been an increase in the number and intensity of extreme events, especially droughts, which disproportionately impact those reliant on agriculture and herding.¹ One of the reasons for the high susceptibility of the country to extreme climate events is its location at a high elevation with climate characterised by long cold winters and short summers.²

“The processes of development in the name of economic growth including increasing urbanisation and the rise of the mining sector have also contributed to the increased susceptibility of the country to adverse climate change. The sector has significantly contributed to erosion as well as a reduction of land for herders, with available grasslands being overstressed, leading to degradation and desertification”³

Governmental inaction on addressing the impacts of mining have contributed to the intensification of climate change. For example, there has been a lack of consultations with local herders in the processes of environmental impact assessment for special licence issuance, lack of rehabilitation during mining activities, and weak monitoring to ensure implementation of environmental protection laws. This inaction has contributed to negative impacts such as soil deterioration, pollution of potable water sources, drying of rivers and waters. This has also led to an increase in social unrest and disputes between local citizens and mining companies.

Unlike other countries of the region, military spending in Mongolia has seen a sharp reduction in the years following its transition to a multi-party democracy. Military spending has also been relatively modest averaging 0.8 per cent of GDP over the last decade.¹

Sandwiched as it is between two expansionist powers, the country is in a geo-strategic hotspot with major powers seeking to gain strategic advantage in the region. However, since the transition, in order to maintain its sovereignty and security rather than increase its military capabilities, the country has formulated a geopolitical strategy that is built primarily around developing friendly relations with its two neighbours, as well as privileged relations with democratic countries, its ‘third neighbours’.² This has meant a departure from its military alliance of several decades with the erstwhile Soviet Union and a commitment to neutrality which has included a declaration of its territory as a nuclear weapon-free zone and membership in the Non-Aligned Movement. Additionally, Mongolia’s small military has become a significant foreign policy instrument to advance its third neighbours’ policy, which it has pursued through the deployment of its military as a peace-keeping force.³

Mongolian women have had a key role to play in Mongolian peacekeeping with the Mongolian army steadily increasing the numbers of women deployed in peacekeeping. The commitment of the country to bolster the role of women in peacekeeping is also demonstrated by the Mongolian President pledging to the UN General Assembly in September 2021 an increase in the percentage of Mongolian women peacekeepers to 15 per cent in alignment with UN Security Council Resolution 1325 on women, peace and security.⁴

In its latest assessment of civic space in Mongolia, CIVICUS found that the space for civil society had ‘narrowed’. While this assessment was an upgrade from its previous assessment of an ‘obstructed’ civil society owing primarily to the adoption in April 2021 of a new law to protect human rights defenders, CIVICUS also raised concerns about press freedoms, as well as harassment, intimidation and reprisals against human rights defenders through the use of security laws.¹ This narrowing of civic space was also echoed by the fact-finding report on the impacts of mining on herder communities in Mongolia conducted in October 2022 by FORUM-ASIA and CHRD which found that communities raising concerns or protesting mining operations were increasingly being threatened into silence, with targeted attacks on human rights defenders becoming more commonplace.²

In October 2022, the state of reprisals against human rights defenders in Mongolia was raised as a concern by the Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (CESCR) in its Concluding Observations where it brought attention to reports of harassment, intimidation and reprisals against human rights defenders, including the woman human rights defender and Oyu Tolgoi Watch Executive Director, Sukhgerel Dugersuren, who is being investigated under Mongolia’s security laws. CESCR found that there was a clear reprisal by the state against Sukhgerel Dugersuren who has worked closely with communities impacted by large scale development projects including mining, energy and infrastructure projects seeking state and corporate accountability.^3,4

Through the difficult transition years when many families were plunged into poverty as previously protected jobs disappeared and social services were drastically reduced, Mongolia saw a significant regression of women’s rights in the country through a deepening of patriarchal structures and social norms. This resulted in a widening of gendered inequalities in political, economic and social life.¹ Prior to the 1990s, during the socialist regime, women’s participation in politics was ensured through quota systems. In 1990, when the country began the process of transition to a multi-party democracy, women constituted 23 per cent of the total number of representatives in the national parliament, which was reduced to three per cent in 1992. The percentage of women in parliament stayed consistently low till it began improving from 2012 onwards.² This was because during the initial years of transition, the women’s seat quota was eliminated, and since then efforts to include women in parliament have shifted to candidacy quotas, though these efforts have been plagued by inconsistency and instability for women.

A candidacy quota of 30 per cent for women was first introduced in 2005 but was abruptly removed from election law prior to the elections in 2008 and was never tested. Another amendment to the election law in 2012 reintroduced the candidacy quota of 30 per cent, retained it in an amendment to election law in 2015, but it was abruptly and unconstitutionally reduced to 20 per cent prior to the elections in 2016.³ In 2020, during the last parliamentary elections, women constituted 17.11 per cent of elected representatives to the national parliament, a vast improvement from the low of three per cent in 1992, but below the regional aggregate of 21 per cent for East Asia and the Pacific.⁴

In terms of women’s employment too, Mongolia continues to face significant challenges with persistent and widening gender gaps between male and female labour force participation rates. The ratio of female to male labour force participation has dropped from 82.3 per cent in 2017 to 76.8 per cent in 2021. Further, the impacts of the pandemic on women’s labour force participation rates have continued to reverberate with the rate falling sharply from 63 per cent in 2019 to 58.7 per cent in 2021.⁵ Moreover, as APWLD partner, Dem Ololt found in their advocacy report, job security was particularly risky for women whose usual childcare services were suspended.⁶

While the pandemic exposed and exacerbated gender gaps in the performance of unpaid work – both care work and in family businesses – data collected by the National Statistics Agency in 2018 found these gender gaps to be significant.

“The data pointed to systemic issues in the gendered division of unpaid labour, with women continuing to disproportionately perform such work – accounting for 75.9 per cent – in both the household and in family-owned businesses.”

Women in Mongolia also continue to experience gendered inequalities in relation to asset ownership. A 2018 study by the National Statistics Office found that men own 1.8 times more housing than women.⁷ This difference was more acutely felt in rural areas, compared with urban areas, with men owning three times more housing than women.

In terms of Gender-Based Violence (GBV), in a study carried out by the National Statistics Office with United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA) in 2017 involving 7,319 women, it was found that one in every two Mongolian women has experienced violence perpetrated by an intimate partner at least once in their lives.⁸ Heartbreakingly, over one in 10 of all women reported having experienced sexual abuse before they were 15 years old, with the 29.5 per cent of perpetrators of violence being other family members. Another recent study focused on GBV at the workplace conducted by the National Human Rights Commission of Mongolia and the International Labour Organisation (ILO), 10 per cent of women said they had experienced sexual harassment of some form at their workplace.⁹

Since initiating its ‘Opening and Reform’ policy in the late 1970s, China has taken a series of measures to liberalise and privatise its economy over the years, including expanding exports enormously and absorbing significant amounts of Foreign Direct Investment (FDI).¹ In 2001, China joined the World Trade Organisation (WTO), which fuelled an increase in Chinese exports and greater economic growth. From 2002 to 2007, net exports as a share of Gross Domestic Product (GDP) in China increased from 2.6 per cent to 7.7 per cent.² Although vast international investment has enabled a wide range of jobs and consumer choices with real annual wages doubling from 2001 to 2006 across industries, there have also been other significant shifts in the economy. There has been a significant decrease in the percentage of workers employed in agriculture from 50 per cent in 2001 to 11.2 per cent in 2010.³ Moreover, economic growth has had detrimental impacts on natural resources and the environment. The last 40 years has also seen a worsening of inequalities pointing to systemic issues with the model of economic growth pursued by China.

Since the 1990s, China has also been party to 145 bilateral investment agreements, of which 110 are in force, with 35 agreements being either terminated or having never been in force.⁴ It is also party to 25 Free Trade Agreements (FTAs) of which 23 are in force.⁵ One of these FTAs is the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership (RCEP), understood to be the largest FTA in the world, signed with 14 other countries in 2020. Apart from FTAs and other investment agreements, a significant component of China’s trade and foreign policy is the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) that it launched in 2013 through which China has been investing in about 70 countries. In the first half of 2021, China reached a trade volume of 535 million RMB with BRI countries.⁶

However, China’s trade policy has drawn criticism and retaliation from the US, European Union (EU) and other countries who also seek to gain economic ascendancy through trade in the region. Moreover,

“There have been concerns about the Belt and Road Initiative in terms of its neglect of the rule of law and human rights in partner countries, as well as the negative impacts on the environment, labour rights in local communities and the lack of gender responsiveness.”

The number and size of Chinese companies are increasing vastly. In 2020, there were 22,000 new companies on average registered every day. In total, there were 140 million market entities in China in 2020.¹ China also has had the largest number of Fortune 500 companies in the world since 2020, and in 2022, Fortune 500 firms continued to outnumber those from the US, 136 to 124. Moreover, China also had more firms on the list than Japan, Germany, France, and the United Kingdom (UK) combined.² Despite this incredible growth in corporations, not all companies practise social responsibility. While the number of companies that publish their corporate social responsibility reports has increased from 739 in 2009 to 1,806 in 2020, this number is miniscule compared to the number of companies getting registered daily.³

China’s fast-paced economy has benefited greatly from low-paid labourers, the majority of whom are migrant workers. In 2021, there were 292 million migrant workers comprising more than one-third of the entire working population.⁴ Apart from being underpaid, these workers do not have access to the full benefits of residency including medical care, housing, pension or children’s education due to the ‘hukou’ (residence registration) system. As China does not allow for independent labour unions, they often have little leverage to claim their rights when violated.

“Women account for about 35.9 per cent of migrant workers, and they too suffer from discriminatory treatment and poor social services, as well as abduction and trafficking, sexual exploitation and violence, unmet-reproductive health needs, gender discrimination and more.⁴“

Poor working conditions like long working hours are not only common for blue-collar workers, but also for white-collar workers in internet giants.

In terms of women’s employment, while China has one of the highest female labour force participation rates, at 61 per cent in 2021, there has been a consistent decline in labour force participation of women over the last 30 years.⁵ There are currently no gender quotas for women on boards or in senior management positions. China’s corporate governance code (Code of Corporate Governance for Listed Companies in China) does not mention gender as a desirable quality or background for board candidates.

Even so, there have been some positive changes in relation to corporate social responsibility in recent years. As part of the efforts to reach its climate goals, China has introduced and updated Environment, Social and Governance (ESG) guidelines that require companies to voluntarily disclose information around environmental protection, efforts on poverty alleviation, biodiversity and so on.

In China, the state claims ownership of all land and natural resources. Farmers are granted the right of usage of land by government sponsored ‘collective units’.

However, in the last two decades, there has been an increase in forced demolitions and evictions in the name of economic development and city planning.

Although there is a lack of systematic data on the numbers of people displaced by forced evictions, it is estimated that from the mid-1990s to mid-2000s, 40 million people were affected by land requisitions, and since 2005, surveys have shown a steady increase in the number of forced evictions in China, with local governments appropriating the land of approximately 4 million people annually.¹ One of the consequences of this has been increased landlessness, with women making up a significant proportion of the landless caused by development projects.

Apart from forced demolitions and evictions, rural women in China, who make up 70 per cent of rural labour,² are especially deprived of land rights due to patriarchal codes of conduct in rural areas. A survey conducted by the All-China Women’s Federation in 2018 found that fewer than 20 per cent of rural women are included on land certificates.³ Rural women and their children account for the majority of the landless population. According to a survey conducted on the status of Chinese women in 2011, 21 per cent of rural women have no land, an increase of 11.8 percentage points from the 2000 survey. Among them, 27.7 per cent of women lost land due to marriage changes (marriage, remarriage, divorce, and widowhood), while only 3.7 per cent of men lost land due to marriage changes.⁴

Rural women’s land rights face multiple threats from discriminatory systems, laws, policies, culture, and gendered norms. In the context of rural land, the ‘three rights separation’ legal policy,⁵ infringes the land rights of married women in the transfer of rural contracted land. It is mainly reflected in the damage to the transfer income of contracted land, the decision-making power of the mortgage of land management rights and the inheritance right of the transfer of income of contracted land.⁶

The shift of global manufacturing to China has made the country more vulnerable to climate change and to climate-change induced disasters. China is currently the world’s largest emitter of Greenhouse Gases (GHGs), being responsible for one-thirds of the global emission of GHGs. However, it is not the main source of historical cumulative emissions and is surpassed by the United States, Russia and the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) block of countries in global Carbon Dioxide emissions per capita, and by the OECD block of countries in total GHG emissions as well.¹ Recent floods and droughts in several parts of the country that have devastated large parts of the country, affecting its poorest the worst, attest to the risks of extreme weather events that accompany climate change.² A recent study by climate risk analysts has found that the country is home to 16 of the 20 global regions most vulnerable to climate change and Gross Domestic Climate Risk, calculated as the physical climate risk to the built environment.³

While climate change has enormous economic costs, the risk to lives and livelihoods from climate change are devastating. According to a recent study, 1.24 million deaths in 2017 were attributable to air pollution.⁴ Women are also more likely to face the worst impacts of climate change due to their disadvantaged socio-economic status. Moreover, women’s livelihoods are more likely to be detrimentally affected by climate change and disasters as they rely more on agricultural livelihoods and earn less than men.

In recent years, China is trying to make a bigger commitment to environmental protection. In 2021, it spent USD 266 billion on the deployment of low-carbon technologies, accounting for more than a third of the global total.⁵ This was preceded by the commitment to strengthen its climate targets, including the long-term targets of reaching a Carbon dioxide (CO2) emissions peak before 2030 and achieving carbon neutrality before 2060.⁶ However, the Climate Action Tracker’s analysis rates China’s overall action on climate change as ‘highly insufficient’,⁷ pointing to the mammoth nature of the task ahead. The challenges have been heightened by China’s post-COVID-19 recovery activities which remain carbon-intensive and require high energy demand from a system run primarily on fossil fuels.

“At the institutional level, there is little recognition of the impact of climate change on women and gender equality.”

In the Chinese Women’s Development Program (2011-2020 and 2021-2030) issued by China’s State Council,⁸ ‘Women and Environment’ is one of the seven major development areas to focus on. Improving water safety and number of latrines, encouraging women to participate in pollution reduction, improving the capacity of women to prevent and handle disasters and fulfilling special needs of women in disaster reduction are mentioned. However, there is no mention of climate change and no gender-disaggregated data in this area were collected or published in the official monitoring reports of the program.

China is a highly militarised country, and its defence spending has been growing significantly for 28 consecutive years.¹ In 2022, China continued to be the world’s second largest military spender (behind the US), allocating an estimated $292 billion on defence spending, which constituted 5.7 per cent of its total budget.² The total spending increase on defence was 4.2 per cent more than in 2021 and an astonishing 63 per cent more than in 2013.³ China also has the world’s largest army with 2 million active personnel in 2022. There are no official figures for the number of women in the Chinese military, but estimates suggest that women constitute about 4.5 per cent of personnel in the army, with most of them being employed in medical or art units.⁴

In recent years, China has been party to increasing military tensions with its neighbours. These include conflicts with India along the 2,100-mile disputed border in the Himalayas. A major clash in the Galwan valley in June 2020 resulted in over 20 deaths on the Indian side and four on the Chinese side, the worst confrontation between the two countries since 1975.⁵ The border continues to be on the boil, with the most recent flare up in December 2022.

China has also had long standing disputes in the South China Sea since the 1960s with Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines, Vietnam and Brunei. There have also been increasing tensions in the East China Sea with Japan with both sides accusing each other of infringing on each other’s maritime territory.⁶ China has given itself legal authority to address any infringements of its sovereignty at sea through a new Coast Guard Law in January 2021, which enables it to use weapons against foreign vessels. Another source of persistent geo-political tensions has been its dispute with Taiwan, which has been governed differently from mainland China since 1949. Mainland China has deployed missiles along the Taiwan Strait and continues to periodically conduct drills near the island. Army aircrafts from the mainland also frequently appear in Taiwan’s air defence zone, most recently in March 2023.⁷

Increasingly, China is showing off its military strength internationally. Even on diplomatic occasions, more and more ‘wolf warrior’ language is used instead of diplomatic rhetoric, including the response to foreign media and public opinion during the pandemic. Official attitudes, civil nationalism/statism and militarism reinforce and facilitate each other.

“Public opinion against neighbouring countries and ‘hostile forces’ has been hardening, and violence and attacks on pacifism and feminism are rampant. Feminists are often targeted as agents of hostile foreign forces with state power being used to shut down feminist social media.”

Since his ascendancy to the Chinese Presidency, President Xi Jinping has highlighted the importance of ‘maintaining stability’ through centralised ‘political and legal work’ by firmly grasping the ‘knife handle’ which has been interpreted to mean the use of ‘strict and severe means’ to ‘solve problems’.¹ In budgetary terms, this has meant an exponential increase in ‘public security’ spending over the years which is used to maintain public order. In a decade, this amount had more than doubled to reach a budget of 210 bn USD in 2020, seven per cent higher than the defend cost for the same year.²

There are many areas in which the Chinese government seeks to maintain social stability by using strict and severe means. In the arena of information control, censorship is pervasive and increasingly strict. Apart from the ‘great firewall’ to block out selected foreign websites, there has been an increase in cases of citizens being prosecuted for using Virtual Private Networks (VPN) to visit foreign websites or speech that is seen as disrespectful to the state. During the pandemic, the state levelled up its censorship strategy by investing enormous resources to shape online opinion by removing trending topics, blocking accounts and deleting ‘unwanted opinion’.³ Apart from censoring the news and social media, the state cracked down heavily on whistle-blowers and citizen journalists. Citizen journalist Zhang Zhan was sentenced to four years in prison for reporting on Wuhan’s lockdown through social media.⁴ Similarly, a woman user of the Chinese social media platform, Weibo, was sentenced to 6 months in prison for one widely shared post of stories about the Wuhan lockdown.⁵

“China already has the world’s largest surveillance network and from 2010 to 2019, government procurement orders for equipment related to surveillance increased by nearly 1,900 per cent.^{6, 7}“

During the pandemic, China expanded its surveillance and monitoring of citizens even further in the name of public health and safety, through tracking intelligence, facial recognition, big data and other technologies. These surveillance technologies were also used to track and intimidate protestors against China’s strict COVID-19 rules.⁸

China is also stepping up security measures and its control in regions Xinjiang, Tibet, Inner Mongolia and Hong Kong. In Xinjiang, the Chinese government has been accused of imprisoning more than one million ethnic minority people since 2017 and subjecting those not detained to intense surveillance, religious restrictions, forced labour, sexual assault and forced sterilisations.⁹ In Hong Kong, during the mass protests in 2019, over 10,000 mostly young people were detained and over 6,000 arrested. The protests have seen unprecedented participation by young women which has shattered existing gender norms and empowered a new generation of women activists. However, the protests have also been mired by Sexual and Gender-based Violence (SGBV) against young women by the police.¹⁰

In June 2020, China passed a national security law specific to Hong Kong to deal with ‘secession, foreign interference, terrorism and subversion against the central government’. Based on this law, over 100 activists, journalists, entrepreneurs and others had been arrested until March 2021, many of whom were women. Moreover, in the face of this increased state repression, since 2021, at least 50 Civil Society Organisations (CSOs) — including unions, churches, media groups and political parties — have disbanded.¹¹

China has a long history of recognising formal equality, with the principle of equality between men and women written into China’s first Constitution in 1954. In 1990, China established the National Working Committee on Children and Women to organise and coordinate government organisations on gender equality and women’s development. In 1992, China issued its first specialised law on the protection of women, the Law on the Protection of Women’s Rights and Interests, with amendments in 2005 adding regulations on domestic violence and sexual harassment. Since 1995, the State Council has been issuing policies called the Programs for the Development of Chinese Women (1995-2000, 2001-2010, 2011-2020, 2021-2030) to set targets and provide guidelines for central and local governments to advance women’s human rights.

Despite these mechanisms and policies, China continues to be largely dominated by patriarchal structures and norms in political, economic and social life. Over the years, progress on closing gender gaps has not been significant, and in some areas, it has been worsening. In terms of political representation,

“no woman has ever been a member of China’s Politburo Standing Committee, the small group that has run the country for the last 70 years.”

China took a further step back in 2022 eliminating women even from the next level of power, with the latest politburo of 24-members being constituted solely by men.¹ In the National Peoples’ Congress, currently there are 790 women, constituting 26.54 per cent of the total number of representatives. While this is higher than the regional average of 21.2 percent, this is much lower than the average in other regions such as the Americas or Europe at 34.9 and 31.1 per cent respectively.²

The rate of women’s participation in the labour force has shown a consistent decline from the 1990s, from a high of 73 per cent in 1990 to a low of 59 per cent in 2020 at the height of the pandemic.³ While the labour force participation rates have marginally improved to pre-pandemic levels to 61 per cent in 2021, the relatively low labour force participation rates of women point to systemic issues. According to the results of the fourth survey on the social status of women in China, women spend twice as much time than men on household chores,⁴ drawing attention to deep-seated patriarchal norms on the roles of women. Leaders of the party-state also promote conservative gender norms, as does the media which often emphasises women’s subordinate roles. There are even ‘female virtue’ classes to train women to internalise patriarchal ethics and norms in the name of traditional culture or Confucianism.

Gender equality and women’s human rights are largely not prioritised by the government in practice. Women and girls are still directly or indirectly discriminated against by law, policies and political, economic and social culture. Cases of violation of women’s rights, particularly Gender-Based Violence (GBV) are often inadequately handled by the judiciary and administration, with women crying out for changes to the status quo.

Vanuatu became a member of the World Trade Organisation (WTO) in 2012 and, as per the Vanuatu National Statistics Office’s September 2022 report, is part of the Melanesian Free Trade Agreement (MFTA) with four other nations.¹ This agreement aims for economic integration within the Melanesian Spearhead Group (MSG). The 2018 WTO Trade Policy Review revealed that Vanuatu offers at least Most-Favoured Nation (MFN) treatment to all trading counterparts.² It participates in multiple regional pacts, including the MSG Trade Agreement, Pacific Island Countries Trade Agreement (PICTA), and the Pacific Agreement on Closer Economic Relations Plus (PACER Plus). These agreements facilitate preferential trade with South Pacific countries. Vanuatu enjoys non-reciprocal trade benefits, such as the Generalised System of Preferences from certain WTO members. Moreover, under the South Pacific Regional Trade and Economic Cooperation Agreement (SPARTECA) and the EU’s Everything but Arms initiative, Vanuatu’s exports receive duty-free and quota-free access to markets in Australia, New Zealand, and the European Union.

In Vanuatu, a significant transparency deficit exists, particularly in trade-related decision-making processes. Women, despite being vital stakeholders, rarely participate in the framing and deliberation of trade agreements, an exclusion that can lead to unanticipated gendered impacts. The PACER Plus is a case in point. This agreement, aimed at enhancing economic integration with Australia and New Zealand, carries with it potential repercussions for Vanuatu’s labour dynamics. Given the country’s economic challenges, many of its citizens seek opportunities abroad, leveraging preferential labour mobility agreements, especially those provided by countries like Australia and New Zealand. With PACER Plus in play, the patterns of such international migrations from Vanuatu might undergo significant shifts. Furthermore, the ramifications of PACER Plus on labour movements in Vanuatu, particularly in light of the prevailing lack of transparency and gender inclusivity in trade negotiations, are of concern.³

Vanuatu’s public sector debt stood at 51.5 per cent of its GDP at the end of 2020, maintaining stability since 2018.⁴ While the International Monetary Fund (IMF) classifies Vanuatu at a moderate risk of debt distress, the nation has minimal buffer to handle economic shocks. The tourism-dependent economy of Vanuatu suffered a blow from the COVID-19 pandemic, leading to an economic downturn. Starting in 2020, there was a corresponding increase in public expenditure to mitigate the impacts of both the COVID-19 pandemic and climate change. By 2022, its debt-to-GDP ratio – a widely-used metric – reached 46.6 per cent and is projected to climb to 75.1 per cent⁵ Rising debt levels, persistent trade deficits, and the escalating climate crisis strain the government’s capacity to fund essential public services. This might drive the adoption of austerity measures, potentially hampering the region’s economic rebound. Concurrently, the region has seen a surge in prices, especially for essential goods, due to the pandemic-induced supply chain disruptions and the Russia-Ukraine conflict.⁶ Notably, Vanuatu ranks among the nations most indebted to China, with nearly half its external debt owed to Beijing, representing just over 13 per cent of its GDP. This poses concerns over increased vulnerability to Beijing’s diplomatic influence and the challenges of unsustainable debt loads.⁷

As witnessed globally, the government’s diminished capacity to support public services places a disproportionate burden on women. Reduced state care services led to an uptick in women’s unpaid care work, restricting their time for paid roles, political activities, and leisure while impacting their health. Additionally, as household managers, women grapple with the challenges of escalating costs against dwindling incomes.

Although the levels of the consumption-based poverty¹ in Vanuatu can be considered low, with a national average rate of 15.9 per cent,² Vanuatu has historically faced challenges related to poverty. Despite its rich cultural heritage and abundant natural resources, factors like geographic isolation, vulnerability to natural disasters, and limited infrastructure have constrained its socio-economic development. A significant portion of the population relies on subsistence farming, which is often threatened by extreme weather events, including cyclones and volcanic eruptions. Tourism, a major source of revenue for the country, can be volatile due to external factors, making it an unreliable source of income for many. 

In areas around North Malekula, Maewo, Pentecost, and Tanna, poverty rates appear to be substantially higher than the national average, while the lowest rates are observed in prime agricultural regions such as Santo, and parts of Ambae and Ambrym.³ Despite efforts from both the national government and international partners to mitigate poverty, develop infrastructure, and diversify the economy, a significant portion of Vanuatu’s population continues to struggle with fundamental necessities. Many face challenges accessing quality education, health services, and consistent employment. The poverty headcount ratio stood at 38.7 per cent in 2022, using a threshold of USD 3.20.⁴

The 2010 Household Income and Expenditure Survey highlighted an average household weekly expenditure of 17,576 Vatu⁵ (VT).⁶ The lowest expenditure quintile averaged 7,259 VT, in contrast to the highest quintile’s 33,577 VT.⁷ Recognising the financial challenges faced by many households, the government increased the minimum wage from 170 VT (approximately USD 1.70) in 2018 to 200 VT (approximately USD 2). By 2023, this had risen to 220 VT⁸ and a recent announcement in June 2023 confirmed a further hike to 300 VT.⁹ Nonetheless, even this augmented figure falls short of covering household expenditures, particularly impacting low-income earners.

In Vanuatu, freehold land is non-existent. All urban territories are public, and all rural areas are governed by custom land practices, with ownership vested in local chiefs and family leaders.¹ The 2020 Census indicated that 73 per cent of private households operate under customary land tenure agreements. Despite the absence of overtly discriminatory laws concerning land access or ownership, Kastam or indigenous traditions strongly favour patrilineal inheritance, causing women to seldom possess registered leases or sub-leases. This gender-biased custom means that a minority of households are led by women, while men predominantly have primary land rights. These traditional norms also discourage or inhibit women from being active participants in land management and tenure decisions. The National Sustainable Development Plan Baseline Survey disclosed that male-headed households predominantly have access to customary land compared to female-led ones.² Although the Vanuatu Land Registry does not maintain sex-disaggregated land lease data, in 2015, the Land Management and Planning Committee Chair noted that women constituted 30 per cent of Ni-Vanuatu lease applicants. While the exact data from the 2020 Census regarding the percentage of women-headed households is not available, the 2016 Mini Census recorded that women helmed 17.5 per cent of households in Vanuatu.³

Vanuatu lacks formal military forces. Instead, its security apparatus consists of the Vanuatu Police Force, which encompasses the Vanuatu Mobile Force (VMF) and the Police Maritime Wing. The paramilitary VMF is vested with external security duties. Despite its vast cultural diversity, Vanuatu has maintained a consistent record of peace and democratic governance. The nation has avoided civil or major tribal conflicts, with only sporadic domestic land disputes occurring. Consequently, there has been no substantial military expenditure.

Vanuatu’s Constitution, established in 1980, guarantees the fundamental rights and freedoms of every individual, regardless of place of origin, religious or traditional belief, political opinions, language or sex.¹ However, it also respects the preservation of customary law practices, which can, at times, contradict gender equality, especially in matters of customary land, as aforementioned.² Kastom, or indigenous practices, though varied, often express patriarchal values ingrained through historical religious and colonial influences.³ To illustrate, despite the legal age for marriage being set at 21 for both genders, with parental consent, girls can marry at 16 and boys at 18. Kastom in some areas advises that girls are fit for marriage and intimacy post-menstruation, leading to early marriages. According to statistics collected by the international initiative Girls Not Brides between 2012 and 2018, 21 per cent of women were married by age 18 and three percent were married under the age of 15.⁴

Another customary practice reinforcing gender inequality is the ’bride price,’ where the groom or his family pays the bride’s family for her hand in marriage. A 2011 study revealed that 53 per cent of Vanuatu women felt they became a man’s property if a bride price was paid. This not only perpetuates the view of women as property, but can indirectly sanction marital violence and discourage women from leaving abusive relationships.⁵

Gender inequality in Vanuatu is further highlighted by women’s underrepresentation in leadership roles, disparities in education, employment opportunities, and health outcomes.

Traditional beliefs and customs uphold male dominance and customary family roles, which act as barriers to women’s full participation in political life, even in the absence of legal limitations. There is only one female representative in Vanuatu’s 52-member parliament.¹ Since independence in 1980, Vanuatu has had only five female members of parliament.² Despite an increase in female candidates from eight in 2016 to 18 in the 2020 elections, gender representation remains starkly imbalanced. Reasons cited by senior female political figures include the lack of financial resources for women to compete effectively. Local women’s rights groups have advocated for ‘affirmative action measures’ to bolster female representation. Yet no Temporary Special Measures are currently in effect.³

Efforts to address this disparity were evident when, in 2011, the Vanuatu Department of Women’s Affairs proposed reserving seats for women in Municipal Councils. This culminated in the Municipalities Amendment Act of 2013, introducing a quota for women in local elections. As a result, the 2018-2021 elections saw 11 female municipal councilors (25.6 per cent) and seven provincial female councilors (7.1 per cent) elected. No female mayors were chosen, but some attained deputy mayor positions. Nevertheless, the 2020 general elections witnessed over 15 female candidates, but none secured a victory.⁴

The public sector has seen a gradual rise in women in leadership. In 2019, of seven Director Generals, two were women, and eight Directors of 43 government departments were women. The progression is evident but remains limited in scope.⁵

In the 2020 Census,¹ women represented 48.7 per cent of those over the age of three currently attending schools in Vanuatu. Primary school Net Enrolment Rates (NER) showed slight gender parity at 95.8 per cent for boys and 94.9 per cent for girls. However, secondary school enrolment favours girls at 49.9 per cent compared to boys at 42.8 per cent. Alarmingly, there has been a significant dropout rate for girls at the secondary level, with 50 per cent leaving school between Grades 7 and 11. The lack of protection for pregnant students exacerbates this as no legislation facilitates their re-enrolment post-childbirth. The 2016 Global School-based Student Health Survey highlighted another concern: 50 per cent of girls aged 13-17 had skipped classes or school in the past month.

Education in Vanuatu presents challenges beyond gender disparities. While the National Sector Development Plan² emphasises the right to education, primary and secondary schooling isn’t compulsory or free. Indirect expenses, like transportation, add to the burden. Often, in such settings, boys are prioritised for education over girls due to societal norms and economic constraints.³

Furthermore, the educational environment in Vanuatu is not always safe. Incidents of school violence, including corporal punishment by teachers, are not uncommon. Even more concerning are reported cases of sexual violence involving both male educators and students. Research has shown a glaring deficiency in addressing these serious issues within the system, with schools lacking proper protocols to address and handle cases of sexual violence. This further perpetuates the vulnerabilities of female students.⁴

In the 2020 census,the Labour Force Participation Rate (LFPR) for women was 42.1 per cent, compared to 51.5 per cent for men aged 15 and above.¹ This is a significant dip from the 2009 census, which recorded a LFPR of 80.4 per cent for men and 61.4 per cent for women, with reasons given being that the 2020 census took place during the COVID-19 pandemic, when many people were driven out of the labour force.² Urban women participated more at 47.2 per cent, versus 40.4 per cent in rural areas. The 2019-2020 National Sustainable Development Plan (NSDP) Baseline Survey reported an unemployment rate of 9.4 per cent for women and 6.7 per cent for men, culminating in an overall 7.9 per cent.³ Youth unemployment stood at 20.1 percent for young women and 16.1 per cent for young men aged 15-24.

Participation in informal employment is similar for women and men with 68.7% of women and 65.5 per cent of men involved in informal employment as per the 2020 census. Of the female labour force, 13.4 per cent worked for the government and 21 per cent in the private sector in 2020, versus 12.9 per cent and 28.3 per cent for men respectively. A slightly higher percentage of men (4.6 per cent) compared to women (3.5 per cent) were employers.⁴

A significant gender disparity is evident in unpaid work. While 54.4 per cent of men were unpaid family workers, a notable 67.9 per cent of women were unpaid household workers. Moreover, 45.5 per cent of women’s primary activity was household care, while 50.2 per cent of men focused on paid or volunteer work. In terms of industry, both genders predominantly engaged in agriculture, forestry, and fishing. Notably, women outnumbered men in clerical, professional, and service roles. The COVID-19 pandemic severely impacted Vanuatu’s economy, particularly sectors like tourism where woVanuatu, an International Labour Organization (ILO) member since 2003, has ratified key ILO conventions, including the C100 Equal Remuneration Convention 1951 and C111 Discrimination (Employment and Occupation) Convention 1958. However, it has not ratified the ILO C183 Maternity Protection or C190 Violence and Harassment Conventions. Currently, there are specific laws against sexual harassment at the workplace in Vanuatu. A 2022 survey of 62 girls and women in Port Vila and surrounding areas found that 66 per cent had experienced sexual harassment at their workplace; 79 per cent of such cases were not reported due to ‘the normalization of sexual harassment’ or ‘unclear strategies on how to report’. The survey found many workplaces did not have sexual harassment policies.men are more present.⁵

In 2023, life expectancy in Vanuatu was 73 for women and 68 for men.¹ Despite this, the country is grappling with both communicable diseases like malaria and tuberculosis, and noncommunicable diseases. In 2019, mortality from diseases like cancer and diabetes was 33.5 per cent for women and 45.1 per cent for men.²

Cultural and societal barriers pose significant challenges for women’s health. These include low literacy rates among women, risks of Gender-Based Violence (GBV) and stigma around contraception, especially for younger or unmarried women. Community gossip and discrimination further restrict access to care. Menstrual health care access is especially limited, with rural women lacking sanitary products and urban girls struggling financially to obtain them. This often results in girls missing school during menstruation.³

LGBTQI+ individuals face societal discrimination, inhibiting their access to health care. Although the government offers reproductive health services for sexual violence survivors, broader challenges persist. The adolescent birth rate was 81 per 1,000 women aged 15-19 in 2023, higher than 70 per 1,000 per women recorded in 2020. In 2023, the maternal mortality rate was 94 per 100,000 live births,which is higher than the previous count of 72 per 100,000 live births in 2017.⁴ These fluctuations underscore the ongoing challenges women face in accessing comprehensive and safe health care in Vanuatu.

Violence against women is a significant concern in Vanuatu. The 2011 Vanuatu National Survey (VNS) reported that 60 per cent of women aged 15-49 who had been in a relationship experienced physical or sexual violence from a partner.¹ Furthermore, 30 per cent of women in the 2011 VNS stated they were sexually abused before turning 15. The Department of Correctional Services noted in 2021 that sexual crimes were the primary offences over the past decade, accounting for nearly half of all offences.² Data from 2021 revealed that domestic violence cases surged following the travel restriction during -COVID-19, with the Vanuatu Women’s Centre reporting a doubling of cases compared to 2020.³

The legal framework in place includes the Family Protection Act of 2008 (FPA) which criminalises domestic violence, though it notably lacks protections for unmarried women and domestic workers. While Vanuatu’s Penal Code recognises rape as a punishable crime with a potential life imprisonment sentence, it fails to explicitly criminalise marital rape.⁴ Furthermore, the FPA enables victims to obtain Family Protection Orders, which are critical in offering immediate respite to victims from their abusers. However, as of 2016, 74 per cent of interviewed women from rural areas had not heard of these protective orders.⁵ There are also ‘no drop’ policies, which instruct the police not to drop reported domestic violence cases, even if the complaint is subsequently withdrawn.

Despite these legal provisions, the effectiveness of the legal framework remains questionable. The police often hesitate to intervene in domestic disputes and the vast majority of cases, including rape, remain unreported. This hesitancy is exacerbated by traditional patriarchal norms and the considerable influence of chiefs in village-level dispute resolution. A 2016 study revealed that chiefs sometimes settle cases of rape and sexual assault rather than the formal justice system, leading to outcomes that are not in the best interests of survivors.⁶

Such prevailing attitudes are evident in the VNS findings, which highlight that 60 per cent of respondents believed there are scenarios where a man hitting his wife can be justified. The survey also pointed out the prevalence of controlling behaviours, such as a partner demanding to know the woman’s whereabouts or seeking his permission before she can access health care.

Challenges in accessing justice remain significant. According to the 2016 UN Women study, 98 per cent of women and children experiencing violence don’t access the formal justice system, with barriers including court fees, transportation, and medical expenses.⁷ The Family Protection Act, mainly an ’urban service,’has provisions like applying for protection orders by telephone to aid rural women. Still, in practice, these mechanisms are infrequently used.

Only 54 per cent of health facilities in the nation offer services tailored to victims of sexual and GBV. The facilities that do provide these services often lack crucial resources such as emergency contraceptives, vaccines, post-exposure HIV medications, or forensic medical services. Earlier research has underscored that a limited number of support programs employ trained professionals for counselling and therapy. In many cases, staff members rely on their instinct or ‘common sense’ to aid vulnerable women. However, this intuitive approach raises concerns as it can be heavily tinted by traditional perspectives on women’s roles, further impeding access to unbiased support.⁸

In this regard, Non-Governmental Organisations (NGOs) like Vanuatu Women’s Centre, which is present in Port Vila and several provinces, play an important role in educating the public on issues relating to violence against women and helping women access the formal justice system. However, they lack sufficient funding to implement their programmes fully.

The Constitution provides for rights to freedom of expression and association, and the government generally upholds both these rights. With regard to the freedom of expression, there have been occasional cases of elected officials threatening journalists for critical reports.

However, libel and slander are criminal offences. There are no significant barriers on the formation and operation of NGOs. Workers can join unions, bargain collectively, and strike, although the right to strike may be impaired by notification rules and the government’s powers to bar such actions when it comes to essential services.¹ It’s worth noting that these freedoms, while universally applicable, can have gendered impacts. For instance, women journalists or activists may face distinct challenges or threats based on their gender when exercising their freedom of expression or association, potentially magnifying the vulnerabilities they encounter in professional or civic spaces.

Vanuatu, despite being a carbon negative nation, bears the unfortunate distinction of having the highest disaster risk rating globally as per the World Risk Index 2021.¹ The significant risk factors are manifold: frequent exposure to natural calamities such as cyclones, earthquakes, tsunamis, landslides, and coastal flooding. Adding to the peril, about 64 per cent of its populace resides within 1km of the coast, and over half live in close proximity to one of its 14 volcanoes.

In 2020, following Tropical Cyclone Harold, a gender-focused analysis by CARE observed that women experienced a disproportionate burden in relation to caregiving roles.² In Vanuatu, women predominantly shoulder caregiving roles, be it for children, the elderly, or the disabled. Additionally, the onus of ensuring the household’s food security falls largely on them. Their responsibilities intensify during crises, while simultaneously vital health services, especially maternal and reproductive care are not adequately prioritised.This is not merely due to the immediate aftermath of such events but also rooted in societal structures.

Beyond the immediate threat of disasters, the creeping menace of climate change looms large for Vanuatu. The nation’s vulnerability to rising sea levels is particularly noteworthy. Climate change disrupts the balance of natural resources in various ways: altering freshwater supplies, shifting agricultural patterns, promoting saltwater intrusion, affecting plant growth and eroding natural protective barriers, to name a few.³

The Vanuatu Climate Change and Disaster Risk Reduction Policy 2016-2030 addresses this precarious situation, especially from the perspective of vulnerable groups. The policy emphasises the importance of engaging these groups, particularly women and persons with disabilities, in formulating and executing adaptive strategies. Efforts to decentralise and localise responses are evident with the establishment of Community Disaster and Climate Change Committees (CDCCCs). Although the target of ensuring a third of these committee leaders are women hasn’t yet been met.

March 2023 was particularly tumultuous, with two severe cyclones and a significant earthquake affecting a vast majority of the populace. However, it also marked a diplomatic victory for Vanuatu. The country successfully petitioned the UN General Assembly to seek an authoritative opinion from the International Court of Justice on states’ climate change responsibilities.⁴ The government, in its third National Communication to the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC), highlighted the gender-skewed impact of climate change. Due to existing gender disparities, women and girls confront the repercussions more acutely. The reasons range from higher poverty rates among women, their dominant role in the subsistence economy, to the uptick in GBV post natural calamities. As climate patterns shift, these inequalities stand to be further exacerbated.

Key features of the legal and policy framework on climate change

Laws:

• Environmental Management and Conservation Act No. 12 (amended in 2011): defines and addresses climate related challenges and requires the inclusion of climate change issues in all decision and policy making. It also enables the government to take measures to meet commitments under the UNFCCC.
• Forestry Rights Registration and Timber Harvest Guarantee No. 28 (2000): regulates the registration, transfer and granting of forestry rights.

Key policies:

• Nationally Determined Contributions: provides for adaptation and mitigation strategies to increase climate resilience.
• National Adaptation Plan: to inter alia, provide a framework for mainstreaming climate change and disaster risk reduction into sustainable development processes and build resilience.
• Climate change and Disaster Risk Reduction Policy: to build resilience to and strengthen capacity to address climate change and disaster risk reduction. It advocates for the meaningful involvement of under-represented groups, including women and persons with disabilities, in planning and implementing climate disaster programmes.
• Policies and strategies on various aspects including energy, tourism, forest, water, ocean, agriculture, livestock, nutrition/food supply, waste management and biodiversity.

The Fijian economy is predominantly made up of services (70 per cent), followed by industry (15 per cent) and primary sectors including agriculture, forestry and fisheries (14 per cent). Its 2015 Trade and Policy Framework guides its domestic and international trade in key priority areas including sugar, agriculture, forestry and fisheries. This policy privileges the private sectors for driving economic growth and development.

Fiji is signatory to a number of bilateral¹ and multilateral trade agreements, including Melanesian Spearhead Group Trade Agreement (MSGTA), Pacific Islands Countries Trade Agreement (PICTA) and the South Pacific Regional Trade and Economic Cooperation Agreement (SPARTECA). It also benefits from Preferential Trade Agreements (PTA) including Generalised System of Preferences, SPARTECA and PTA with China. These agreements are often negotiated in secret and are ridden with legal jargon, which makes them inaccessible to governments, Parliament and ordinary people whose lives are most likely to be affected. The economic model fostered through these agreements thrive on exploiting women’s systematic discrimination and unpaid labour, sustaining growth through subsistence wages and hidden contributions to the care economy.²

Fiji is not a signatory to the Pacific Agreement on Closer Economic Relations (PACER) Plus trade and development agreement entered into by 10 Forum Island Countries (FIC)— including Australia, Cook Islands, Kiribati, Nauru and New Zealand. Under this agreement, both Australia and New Zealand have committed to assist FICs achieve economic growth and sustainable development, while at the same time availing of increased access into FIC markets. This agreement was not signed by Fiji as it did not meet its development needs.³ However, the PACER Plus agreement is triggered when Fiji attempts to avail of the Sugar Protocol, which provides preferential access for Fiji to markets in the European Union (EU) under the Economic Partnership Agreement. The PACER Plus agreement is expected to have significant gender implications in FICs given the importance of services, tourism and agriculture and fisheries, as well as the large share of small and medium sized enterprises in their economies. Concerns have been raised on the loss of tariff revenue and the resulting possible decline of public services, with negative repercussions for the reduction and the redistribution of women’s unpaid care work,⁴ diminished policy space,  environmental hazards, threats to the development of local industries.⁵ The PACER Plus agreement increases competition in sectors where women have a high labour participation rate thereby threatening their livelihoods and job security.⁶

The issue of corporate capture must be contextualised within the complex struggles and conflict between traditional land ownership systems and economic development for tourism and the extractive industry, including mining, and more recently, the bottling and sale of water. Efforts to reform traditional land ownership systems have resulted in political and ethno-nationalist tensions. About half of Fiji’s forests have already been lost due to clearance for agriculture, unsustainable logging, and fire, thus endangering species, the ecosystem, as well as local people’s livelihoods and cultural links with their land. Elite economic entities influence decision-makers to permit activities that have harmful impacts on the environment and future livelihoods. Overall, the Government’s short-sighted attempt at utilising land for economic growth has led to profit-gaining at the expense of the environment.

The commercialisation of Fiji’s fishing industry has presented significant gender-related challenges. A study examining gender issues in Fiji’s tuna industry, with PafCo as a key employer, highlighted that women could climb the industry’s hierarchy with appropriate training.¹ The research also encompassed Papua New Guinea and Kiribati, revealing shared challenges for women across these nations. As the industry grows, women and children confront heightened strains in adapting to modern life, with public sector responses to health, safety, and domestic abuse concerns often being inadequate. Moreover, the expanding industry inadvertently promotes a spin-off sex-trade. The lure of industrial fish processing in urban areas often leaves villagers, detached from traditional livelihoods, struggling with insufficient wages. However, as the industry and its ancillary businesses grow, opportunities for women may increase. Yet, this expansion may exacerbate social issues already disproportionately affecting women.

In Fiji, land is managed under three distinct systems: Native Land (iTaukei), Crown Land, and Freehold Land. Native or iTaukei land makes up 87 per cent of all land in Fiji. This land is owned by native Fijian (iTaukei) and is primarily administered by the Native Land Trust Board (now known as the iTaukei Land Trust Board) and mataqali (Fijian clan). The Land Sales Law limits ownership of freehold land within city and town council boundaries to Fijian citizens. Therefore, the issue of land ownership must be contextualised within a dual governance system—where land that is customarily owned by indigenous groups can only be legitimately used by Fijian citizens of other ethnicities if permitted by the ethnic Fijian owners.

Traditional structures and cultural norms greatly influence women’s access to resources and their role in community-level resource management. Both women and men, as registered members of a mataqali or clan, hold equal rights to communally owned land, and Fijian law ensures equal inheritance rights for both genders. However, women cannot claim rights to land owned by their husband’s mataqali, and land inheritance traditions often lean towards patriarchal lineages. Men predominantly control access to and decisions concerning traditional fishing grounds (qoliqoli). When families negotiate access to land, fishing grounds, or both private and State lands, women remain reliant on men, since lease or usage agreements typically bear the name of the male household head.¹ Between 2007-2013, various decrees were passed that restricted indigenous rights, especially concerning decision-making over land and assets. The Non-governmental Organisation (NGO), Social Empowerment and Education Programme (SEEP), identified land and leadership as primary issues affecting community governance from 2000 onwards.

Since gaining independence in 1970, Fiji has faced significant political instability, witnessing four military coups between 1987 and 2006. Central to these upheavals are the longstanding tensions between the iTaukei and Indo-Fijians. This military interventionism in politics culminated in the 2006 coup, which significantly marginalised two pivotal institutions: the Methodist Church and the Great Council of Chiefs (GCC). Moreover, the rising militarisation within the public sphere has encumbered Civil Society Organization (CSO) initiatives, especially those concerning women’s rights, peace, and stability.

The 2013 Constitution underscores the military’s role in safeguarding national security, with Section 131 (2) specifically tasking the military with the comprehensive responsibility of ensuring Fiji and its citizens’ security, defence, and well-being. Furthermore, Chapter 10 grants the military expansive and non-retractable immunity concerning their actions during coups. Although government military expenditure escalated from 2016 to 2019, there was a reduction by 2.9 per cent in 2019 relative to 2018, followed by another 8.65 per cent decrease in 2020, leading to military spending representing 1.7 per cent of Fiji’s Gross Domestic Product (GDP) by 2021.¹

Of paramount concern is the noted correlation between militarisation and rising incidents of Violence Against Women (VAW), especially during crises. The three coups, including two military and one quasi-military, have entrenched a militaristic ethos, reinforcing patriarchal norms and increasing incidents of brutality by security forces. This amplified militarism has reverberating effects, often diminishing rights previously secured for women and deteriorating the nation’s overall human rights stance. Illustratively, the classification of COVID-19 as a natural disaster under the Natural Disaster Management Act sanctioned increased military involvement, evidenced by armed military personnel overseeing operations at the Fiji National Provident Fund during the pandemic’s initial phase.²

Fijian culture is fundamentally rooted in patriarchal systems, characterised by values, beliefs, and relationships entrenched in social, economic, religious, and political frameworks. These structures consistently define and bolster unequal power dynamics between men and women. This patriarchal influence permeates both private and public realms, where men usually occupy privileged, often dominant positions, while women are often relegated to lesser valued and subordinate roles.¹

Article 26 of the 2013 Constitution guarantees equality and prohibits discrimination on various grounds, including sex, disability, religion and sexual orientation. This guarantee is supported by the 2014 National Gender Policy and the National Development Plan 2017-2036 (NDP). However, there are gaps in integrating constitutional guarantees of equality into laws and policies. Focused group discussions conducted by the Fiji Women’s Forum (FWF) in 2017 revealed that women have limited understanding of essential governmental procedures, like the budgetary cycle, inhibiting their effective participation in the legislative process.

Women’s political participation

This limitation is clear in the sharp decline of women representatives in Fiji’s Parliament, from 10 out of 51 members in 2018 to just five out of 55 (9 per cent) in the 2022 elections.² Despite concerted attempts to expand opportunities for women in politics, Fiji has not achieved its commitment of 33 per cent women’s representation in decision-making bodies at either the national or subnational levels.

The overwhelming dominance of patriarchal practices in decision-making structures further marginalises women. In indigenous settings, leadership roles are largely defined by cultural and religious norms, often favouring those from chiefly families. Due to prevailing societal norms, the public sphere is largely perceived as being for men, while the private domain is designated for women. Notwithstanding, a significant 81 per cent of Fijians believe that women are underrepresented in governance, and 72 per cent assert that heightened female representation would be advantageous. Though more than three-quarters of Fijians claim gender would not influence their voting choice, nearly 40 per cent still hold the belief that men are superior political leaders.³

Women who enter public terrains encounter systemic discrimination, harassment, and violence. Their leadership styles are constantly critiqued, and many lack the networks and resources to contest elections. Adding to the challenge, familial duties and a political landscape largely led by men act as deterrents for potential female leaders.⁴

Gendered Access to Education and Livelihoods

In Fiji, deeply rooted cultural and gender norms often confine women to traditional home roles, influencing their educational and professional choices. While primary education has a commendable 100 per cent net enrolment rate, by the secondary level, girls (91 per cent) outpace boys (79 per cent) in enrolment. However, a concerning 28.2 per cent of upper secondary-aged children are out of school, with teenage pregnancies significantly affecting girls’ continuity in education.⁵

At the tertiary level, women constitute 60-65 per cent of students, predominantly studying in fields like commerce, medicine, education, and law, reflecting gendered expectations. Conversely, more men gravitate towards technical and vocational training. The educational landscape also grapples with issues of bullying, verbal abuse, and alarming instances of sexual violence against girls.⁶

Despite strides in education, post-educational employment remains a challenge for young Fijians, particularly women. The transition from education to work reveals pronounced gendered disparities, underscoring the systemic challenges women face in securing employment, even with academic achievements.⁷

In 2022, only 46 per cent of working-age women participated in the labour force, compared to 75 per cent of their male counterparts.⁸ The dominant reason is traditional gender roles that assign women the responsibility of unpaid care and domestic tasks, with 70 per cent of non-working women attributing their absence from the workforce to housework, versus 5 per cent of men.⁹

The majority of working Fijian women are in informal employment, marked by unstable job security, fluctuating income, and no social protection. This encompasses three quarters of rural women, those in informal settlements, older urban and rural women—including widows and women with disabilities—and those from the LGBTQIA+ community. Entrenched gender norms delineate women’s professional trajectories, resulting in occupational segregation and primarily relegating them to roles mirroring traditional female duties. In urban areas, although there may be a slightly wider scope of opportunities, women predominantly gravitate towards professions such as teaching and nursing, reflecting societal expectations.¹⁰

Women in Fiji earn roughly a third less than their male counterparts. The informal sector sees women working part-time more often than men, and they earn significantly less for comparable tasks. Women predominantly engage in invisible informal work, like home-based tasks or outworker work in Fiji’s garment sector, hindering collective bargaining and heightening exploitation risks. Rural women earn about 75 per cent of what their male counterparts earn, and a 45 per cent urban-rural wage disparity exacerbates poverty risks in rural regions.

Gender-Based Violence

Entrenched patriarchal norms and women’s subordinate position in society increases vulnerabilities to Gender-Based Violence (GBV). According to studies conducted by Fiji Women’s Rights Movement (FWRM), on average, 20 per cent of working Fijian women face workplace sexual harassment. It is particularly rampant in the hospitality sector, with 35 per cent of women affected, but also high in the civil service (30 per cent), health (24 per cent), and retail (23 per cent). Full-time working women experience harassment at a rate of 20 per cent, but it is even higher for part-time (30 per cent) and casual workers (43 per cent). Risks are amplified for younger, single women, especially those working night shifts, on rotational shifts, or changing uniforms at work.¹¹ Domestic violence detrimentally impacts workplace performance, costing an average annual loss of 10 working days.

Deep-rooted gender imbalances contribute to the pervasiveness of violence in various settings, from households to professional environments. Alarmingly, 52 per cent of women face Intimate Partner Violence (IPV)¹² including physical (61 per cent) and emotional violence (58 pe rcent). Moreover, 44 per cent experience severe physical violence, and 15 per cent are assaulted during pregnancy. Notably, 34 per cent of Fijian women have faced marital rape, and 28 per cent have faced economic abuse.¹³

Child sexual abuse is the predominant form of sexual violence in Fiji, comprising 74 per cent of cases between 2015–2018.¹⁴ Of adult women, 16 per cent reported sexual abuse before age 15.¹⁵ According to FWRM’s study of sexual violence cases decided by the High Court, between 2017–2020, 94 per cent of rape victims were females, with 68 per cent of the cases involving minors.¹⁶

To combat GBV, laws like the Crimes Act 2009, the Domestic Violence Act 2009, and the Family Law Amendment Act 2012 have been enacted. The Domestic Violence Act 2009 enables GBV victim-survivors to obtain restraining orders, and the Family Law Amendment Act 2012 acknowledges de facto relationships. Fiji’s ‘No Drop’ policy, provided in the criminal laws, ensure that all GBV complaints are investigated, even if later withdrawn.

Still, the gap between law and its application is significant. The Domestic Violence Act’s gender-neutral phrasing fails to capture the unique gender dynamics of domestic violence. Many women, especially in remote areas of Fiji, remain uninformed about their legal rights. Studies have shown that women usually wait approximately 2.5 years before reporting abuse due to its societal normalisation, fear of repercussions, or mistrust in the police.¹⁷ Unfortunately, police frequently perceive VAW as a private family matter, downplaying the severity of the issue. Their efforts are further hampered by insufficient funding, which restricts their reach between remote communities and urban centres. Additionally, women encounter challenges when seeking restraining orders.

The 2013 Constitution guarantees rights to freedom of expression and association, but also permits the government to limit these rights for a wide variety of reasons, including maintaining national security, public order, safety, and morality. The Public Order Act empowers the government to enforce public order using force or to detain individuals on grounds of ‘endangering public safety’ or ‘preserving the peace’. Similar laws in other countries have been exploited to target trans people, sex workers, and others. There have been notable instances where the government responded strongly to public dissent regarding its policies and proposals, leading to the detention of opposition leaders and youth workers. Due to legal constraints and oversight by the Media Industry Development Authority, independent media often resort to self-censorship on politically sensitive or communal issues.¹ Furthermore, public access to information remains restricted.

Fiji, a small island state, is acutely exposed to the ravages of climate change and weather-related disasters such as intense tropical cyclones, storms, sea level rise, ocean warming and acidification, along with related hazards like floods, landslides, and droughts. These adversities lead to immediate human impacts, recovery costs, and repercussions across health, livelihood sectors (notably agriculture, forestry, fisheries, transport, and tourism), housing, infrastructure, poverty, and social cohesion. Furthermore, many traditional villages and rural communities, which centre their daily economic and social activities around the coastline, face the imminent threat of rising sea levels, escalating temperatures, coastal degradation, and increased cyclonic activities. Consequently, numerous Fijian communities have undergone relocation due to climate-induced displacement.

However, climate change impacts are not uniformly distributed. Deep-rooted gender inequalities and power imbalances mean women bear a disproportionate brunt, hindering their ability to rebound post-disasters. Challenges faced by women are also differentiated by intersectional identities, influenced by factors such as age, disability, cultural background, economic status, sexual orientation, gender identity, and location. Especially vulnerable are women in remote and rural communities, often due to restricted access to resources and vital information.¹ With displacement, their challenges multiply as they grapple with longer distances to secure food and water, while simultaneously catering to familial needs. Such responsibilities, coupled with heightened poverty levels and resource scarcities from asset and income losses, not only restrict their choices and opportunities but also jeopardise their safety, health, and security.² Women’s limited access to insurance and finance also lead to heightened vulnerabilities during climate / weather related disasters. This intricate web of vulnerabilities impedes their recovery, undermining sustainable development goals and hindering the advancement of women’s human rights in Fiji.³

Disasters impact both genders, but women face disproportionate losses.⁴ While men’s losses are often of higher absolute value, women’s losses make up a significant portion of their livelihood assets. Essential sources of income, such as crops and small livestock, which sustain families, are devastated. Additionally, damaged fisheries habitats, crucial for many women, take years to recover. Women, predominantly in the informal sector, often lack social insurance. A telling statistic reveals that 88 per cent of Fijian market vendors are women; post-Tropical Cyclone (TC) Winston in 2016, many lost everything. Within six months, there was a 300 per cent hike in wholesale prices and persistent produce shortages. Coastal Fijian women, who rely on fishing and handcrafts, are severely affected by habitat destruction, which undermines their income sources and exacerbates food insecurity.

Disasters and climate change intensify existing levels of Gender-Based Violence (GBV), while pre-existing GBV makes women and children more vulnerable to these calamities. After TC Winston, domestic violence helpline calls surged, while the 2012 Western Division floods saw rises in rape and incest reports. Women also frequently experienced escalated sexual harassment during and post-cyclones. The hardships, like food shortages linked with these events, can heighten GBV risks. For instance, inability to prepare meals due to water scarcity can spark domestic tensions. Prolonged stays in cramped, temporary shelters with little privacy amplify risks of various forms of violence against women and girls. Financial stresses can lead to desperate measures: post the 2012 floods, some women resorted to sex-for-food trades, while economic strains push families to marry off young girls prematurely.

Fiji has ratified the Paris Agreement and initiated the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) Gender Action Plan. Nationally, various frameworks, policies, and plans acknowledge gender roles in environmental challenges, positioning women as agents of change. For instance, the National Climate Change Policy and the 2021 Climate Change Act recognise the pivotal role of women. However, certain laws like the Environment Management Act and the proposed National Disaster Risk Management Bill overlook gender dimensions.

On the institutional side, there is a dissonance between entities working on climate adaptation and those on gender equality. While professionals acknowledge gender issues, they often lack comprehensive knowledge to fully integrate a gender-responsive approach. Additionally, at subnational levels, there is inconsistency in applying the national government’s climate adaptation approach. A significant data gap exists concerning women’s vulnerability, and there is a lack of harmonisation in indicators used by different agencies.

For Fiji to combat climate change while upholding women’s rights, it is imperative to intertwine gender perspectives in policies, integrate women in decision-making, and ensure policies at all levels are harmonised with a gender-focused lens.

During the 1990s, the Philippines made significant strides to open up its economy for free trade and Foreign Direct Investment (FDI), and joined the World Trade Organization (WTO) as a founding member in 1995. Immediately prior to this period, the economic policies pursued by the Marcos regime were characterised by dependence on foreign loans and monopolies controlled by political allies. Since the 1990s, the country has been pursuing a neoliberal approach to economic development, exemplified by numerous bilateral and multilateral Free Trade Agreements (FTAs), deregulation, and unilateral liberalisation, complemented by labour flexibilisation.¹ The neoliberal development model has shifted the Philippines’ economic strategy and has also resulted in the continued consolidation of wealth in the hands of the wealthy few. The Philippines has FTAs with China, India, Japan, Republic of Korea, New Zealand, and Australia under the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN), and has bilateral agreements with Japan, Republic of Korea, Iceland, Liechtenstein, Norway, and Switzerland. In June 2023, the Philippines entered into the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership (RCEP) Free Trade Agreement, which aims to create a free trade zone among 10 ASEAN members, as well as China, Japan, Republic of Korea, Australia, and New Zealand. Overall, China is the Philippines’ top trading partner while Japan is its top contributor of Official Development Assistance (ODA). The Philippines has a number of loan agreements with China for developing infrastructure such as railways, bridges, and river flood control projects.

Through Special Economic Zones (SEZs), which have been pursued since 1995, the government has advanced FDI as a key development strategy.² The Ease of Doing Business and Efficient Government Service Delivery Act of 2018 has been enacted to even further simplify the application process of local and foreign businesses in the country. In 2022, there were net inflows of $9.2 billion USD in FDIs.³ In SEZs, companies experience benefits such as income tax holidays, tax and duty free imports of raw materials, and exemption from payment of local government fees, licences, and taxes. The main sectors that foreign investors invest in are manufacturing, business process outsourcing, real estate, and transport infrastructure. Many of these SEZs are located in the countryside, thereby taking up traditionally agricultural lands and displacing communities.⁴

These developments are praised by political officials as ways to create jobs and advance economic development. For example, in 2022, the Philippine Economic Zone Authority (PEZA) indicated that almost 1.9 million people were employed in economic zones, more than double the number from 2012.⁵ However, women report that many of the resulting jobs in SEZs and in sectors such as agribusiness suffer from labour flexibilisation, resulting in lower wages, low skilled jobs, labour violations, and occupational hazards. Workers in the agribusiness sector, for example, suffer from unfair and unsafe working conditions and are denied social security and benefits due to improper classification as temporary contractors.⁶ Wages also differ by region because of the Wage Rationalisation Law, where workers from outside Metro Manila receive 25 per cent to 78 per cent lower wages. The reliance on FDI has overall increased the power of multinational corporations, despite their adverse impacts on human rights and the environment.

Despite pushback to this prevailing development strategy, there continues to be momentum to further liberalise the Philippine economy. Some political actors propose changing the constitution to push for wholesale removal of domestic regulations in order to increase FDI. Such proposals include potential plans to open up strategic enterprises, natural resources, telecommunications, education, and public utilities for foreign investment, leaving very little domestically-controlled. Meanwhile, the export-oriented and import-dependent trade policy has sunk the Philippine economy into a trade deficit. The trade deficit is currently approximately $4 billion USD.⁷ This has harmed domestic industry and production.

Another impact of the liberalisation measures has been the use of Investor State Dispute Settlement (ISDS) mechanisms which enable foreign corporations to sue sovereign governments if they deem that their (prospective) profits are in any way affected by governmental action. There are at least five cases of investor state dispute settlements for the Philippines.⁸

The Philippines’ government budget for 2023 was Philippine Peso (PhP) 5.268 trillion, approximately $93.6 billion USD. However, a high proportion of annual revenues through the Automatic Appropriations Law is allocated for debt servicing. From 2008-2017, 30.9 per cent of annual revenues were dedicated to managing the Philippines’ external debt. As many feminists have long pointed out, debt is a feminist issue and has significant gendered impacts, including by redirecting valuable funds away from healthcare, education, and poverty reduction and alleviation programmes.

Since the 1980s, privatisation has gained momentum in the Philippines, and the government is increasingly leaving behind its role to provide basic services in favour of outsourcing to Public Private Partnerships (PPPs). This has particularly escalated since 2010, when the government created the PPP Center. Through this strategy, it has pursued many partnerships with wealthy individuals and corporations as a method of delivering services. This shift towards PPPs has benefited the wealthiest in the Philippines, but has come at the expense of affordability and dependability of public services for regular people. For example, in the power generation sector, four corporations hold 65 per cent of market share, which has resulted in higher electricity rates. Meanwhile, government investments in core sectors are decreasing. For example, government spending on housing went down from $ 290 million USD in 2017 to $ 60 million USD in 2019.¹ Meanwhile, in the same sector, the real estate tycoon Manuel Villar tripled his wealth between 2017 and 2018.

A number of the wealthiest people in the Philippines have benefited from the government’s use of PPPs, including on projects which do not always align with the highest-priority national needs for advancing sustainable development. For example, the late Henry Sy – the richest man in the country with a net worth of $18.3 billion USD before he passed away in 2019² – received a 9.98 billion PPP for a school infrastructure project, and was involved in the Clark International Airport Expansion Project. John Gokongwei Jr. – net worth of $4.4 billion USD – received the operations and maintenance contract for Clark Airport. And Jaime Zobel de Ayala – net worth $4 billion USD – is involved in the Daang Hari-South Luzon Expressway (SLEX) Link Road Project, and the automatic fare collection system project. As a trend, in the People’s Development Report by the Center for Women’s Resources (CWR), women report that these developments have resulted in higher prices on essential goods, low wages for cheap contracts, plunder of state resources for private enrichment, and destabilisation of the country’s foundation of social protection and services.³

As with many other formerly colonised countries, patterns of land and resource grabbing in the Philippines have long-standing roots in historical patterns of exploitation and unequal control over land. Development strategies such as the creation of Special Economic Zones (SEZs) and large infrastructure projects have grabbed agricultural lands, resulting in displacement of communities and decrease in access to land for agricultural cultivation.¹ This displacement has often been enforced through other human rights violations such as intimidation, forcible evictions, and killing², particularly when communities resist plans.³ Other infrastructure plans, such as the Build Build Build (BBB) plan for highway construction, are widely perceived by communities as being solely for the purpose of facilitating corporate investment and land grabbing, as opposed to helping meet community needs.⁴

Agribusiness Venture Arrangements (AVAs) are a major government priority and as part of the Philippine Development Plan (2017-2022), which included a goal to develop a globally-competitive agribusiness sector, focused on cash crops.⁵ These AVAs align with the government’s general adherence to liberalisation policies and respond to the WTO and World Bank’s guidance to devote lands and water for export crops. Large agribusiness ventures in sectors like palm oil have displaced peasants and small farmers but have often failed to provide these communities with decent, safe jobs.

Decades of agrarian reform programmes since 1987 and 1988 have taken some steps towards improving the socio-economic conditions of landless farmers. The Comprehensive Agrarian Reform Program (CARP) is the programme under which land reform is implemented in the Philippines to redistribute land to tenant farmers. It also guarantees equal rights to land ownership, equal shares of the farm’s produce, and representation in decision-making bodies.⁶ Despite the existence of land reform frameworks, the Kilusang Magbubukid ng Pilipinas (KMP) estimates that seven out of 10 farmer families remain landless, while the percentage of women aged 15-49 who own land is only 2.7 per cent.⁷ Agrarian reform programmes have primarily granted land titles to men, with only 28 per cent of beneficiaries being women.⁸

In addition to government commitments to liberalisation, the lack of full implementation of agrarian reform is influenced by the power of corporations over the policymaking process. Many large landowners are involved in policy making around land use. Women activists report that there appear to have been funding challenges as well as active schemes by corporations to circumvent the laws. For example, some of the land aimed for agrarian reform and redistribution to tenant farmers have been converted to business centres. Farm workers are also sometimes offered shares of stock instead of land through stock distribution options, thereby signing away their land rights. Women estimate that over a million hectares of distributed lands are under various AVAs, imposed on agrarian reform beneficiaries through non-land transfer schemes.

Located in the cyclone belt and the Pacific Ring of Fire, the Philippines is one of the most vulnerable countries in the world to the effects of climate change. It experiences an average of 20 tropical cyclones every year. Quezon City, the most populous city in the Philippines located in Metro Manila, overlaps five different river systems, and is also situated along the Marikina Valley Fault System. This leaves many parts of the city flood-prone, as well as at a high risk of earthquakes. Within the country, marginalised communities such as the urban poor are particularly susceptible to health, life, and livelihood impacts of these natural disasters. In 2009, Typhoon Ondoy (Ketsana) brought the equivalent of one month’s rainfall in 12 hours, leaving 80 per cent of Metro Manila underwater, killing hundreds of people and damaging tens of thousands of homes.¹ In November 2020, during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, Typhoon Vamco (Ulysses) submerged towns and destroyed homes, compounding the crisis for marginalised communities.

Although it is already experiencing such adverse climate-related impacts, the Philippines has contributed a very small share of historical carbon emissions. The Philippines submitted its updated Nationally-Determined Contribution (NDC) in April 2021, in line with national policies and strategies on climate change and disaster risk reduction. The Philippines NDC states that the loss and damage from extreme weather events have been on the rise; successive typhoons in October and November 2020 resulted in $ 852 million USD in losses. Loss and damage from Super Typhoon Haiyan reached a massive 4 per cent of GDP.² However, the Philippines’ carbon emissions are on the rise due to increased use of coal and fuel oil as energy sources.³ In 2022, the Philippines emitted 150,395,980 tonnes of carbon.⁴ In 2010, there were only 18 coal-fired power plants in the country; by 2018, there were 48 and more have been granted licences. This means that the country may not be on track for meeting its climate obligations under the Paris Agreement.⁵

These factors are compounded by the use of land for mining and extractive industry, which is contributing to environmental degradation and destruction of biodiverse lands. As of 2020, 2.4 per cent of the country is covered by mining tenements.⁶ However, the Mines and Geosciences Bureau identifies a massive 30 per cent of land area as having ‘high mineral potential’, meaning that the Philippines’ ‘mining potential’ would be fifth in the entire world.⁷ The Philippine Mining Act of 1995 (Republic Act No. 7942) liberalises foreign control over the Philippine mining industry. This has already led to open-pit mining excavations, causing lasting environmental destruction and endangering the livelihood of Indigenous Peoples such as the Lumad in Mindanao.⁸ Given the heavy emphasis in development planning on trade liberalisation, PPPs, and opening the country for foreign investment, feminist movements are concerned about the potential impacts of this reality on human rights and ecological sustainability.

The country is also no stranger to climate false solutions introduced by big corporations and rich countries. These false solutions are disguised as climate or green solutions designed to address the root causes of climate issues. However, in reality, they only exacerbate climate injustices and promote greenwashing and the corporate capture of climate actions.⁹ Many feminist and climate action groups in the Philippines have persisted and challenged the use and implementation of these false solutions throughout the years. In April 2024, a monumental victory was achieved by Filipino farmers and people when a cease and desist order against all activities related to ‘Golden Rice’ was declared.¹⁰ Golden Rice is a genetically engineered rice variety¹¹ introduced as a climate and health solution that would decrease vitamin A deficiency in households.¹² Filipino farmers who were forced to grow Golden Rice reported that they were slowly going into debt using this variety because of its average yield, which is cavans¹³ behind the usual rice variety. Food insecurity, impacts on the economy and poverty were expected to worsen should the use of Golden Rice persist in the country.¹⁴

During disasters, women respond to the disruption of lives and livelihoods by finding alternative sources of livelihoods. These new jobs – as domestic workers, laundry workers, vendors, and more – add to women’s overall work and care burdens. Climate-induced disasters also can increase vulnerability to human trafficking and Gender-Based Violence (GBV) through displacement, financial insecurity, and added stressors on households. All of these realities have a disproportionate impact on the poor, who also are less resilient in the face of climate impacts due to housing and job insecurity and the reliance on privatised water and energy sources.

Extreme militaristic culture, rooted in patterns of colonialism and imperialism, has long been embraced by Filipino political leaders as part of models of patriarchal and authoritarian governance. Some manifestations of this militaristic governance have included a 50-year war against communist insurgents,¹ which has killed more than 40,000 people,^{2, 3} and continually militarised indigenous lands, and a war against different Muslim separatist armed groups. Mindanao is the most militarised region of the Philippines, the site of forcible displacement, military occupation, massacres, bombing campaigns, counterinsurgency, and surveillance.⁴ The territory of the Indigenous Lumad people is one that has been relentlessly targeted by government forces as well as by corporate land grabbing for mining and extraction.⁵

Nationally, the government continues to invest heavily in its military and policing apparatus, while investments in social services and human rights have stalled. According to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI), which maintains a global database on military expenditure, the Philippines spent $3.965 billion USD on its military in 2022.⁶ The Armed Forces of the Philippines has approximately 280,000 troops as of 2022, almost half of which are active military personnel. Regions which the government is militarising through counterinsurgency are also major sites of neglect, with a failure to provide for people’s basic needs.

The past decade in the Philippines has been marked by rising militarism deployed internally against communities, including through the War on Drugs and extreme repression of civil society. Rodrigo Duterte, who was the former president of the Philippines between 2016 and 2022, made ‘peace’ and ‘order’ the top of his political agenda. He invested heavily in military and police responses to social issues such as the drug trade rather than in addressing root causes such as poverty and inequality. The police extrajudicially executed tens of thousands of people in the War on Drugs.^{7, 8} Although the official police death toll of the War on Drugs is 6,252, human rights organisations estimate that up to 30,000 people were killed through police crackdown.⁹

Militarism continues to be a mechanism by which privatisation, corporate power, and land grabbing are enforced in the Philippines, including through severe repression of dissent. It is heavily present in the daily lives of urban poor residents, rural, and indigenous communities. For example, vacant lots in urban areas are often guarded by uniformed personnel, preventing urban poor communities from relocating away from climate-vulnerable areas despite their rights to do so.¹⁰

Under the new administration of Ferdinand Marcos, Jr. – the son of former dictator Ferdinand Marcos, Sr. – human rights abuses have continued. There is severe repression and ‘red-tagging’ of journalists, human rights defenders, and activists; extrajudicial killings; and abuses in the conflict with communist insurgency.¹¹ There has also been limited domestic accountability for any of the extrajudicial killings during the drug war thus far,¹² and the government refuses to cooperate with the International Criminal Court for its investigation of violations in the War on Drugs.¹³ However, one positive development is that the government has revived peace talks with communist insurgents, after they were last cut off in 2019.¹⁴

The Philippines is positioned geopolitically within the rising competition between the United States and China, which are heavily influencing developments in the region. It has long had a close relationship with the United States, its former coloniser, on military affairs, having signed a mutual defence treaty with them in 1951 as well as Visiting Forces Agreements (VFAs). The Philippines participated in US wars in Korea and Vietnam, and holds the status of a major non-NATO ally of the United States. Foreign troops have had a presence in the Philippines in military bases, which has led to displacement of Indigenous Aeta People from their lands and abuses against local populations.

Civil Society Organisations (CSOs) in the Philippines experience a harsh climate of repression, exclusion, and authoritarian restrictions on their activities. Executive Order No. 70 (2018), institutionalised a Whole-of-Nation Approach in Attaining Inclusive and Sustainable Peace, Creating a National Task Force to End Local Communist Armed Conflict (NTF-ELCAC). Part of the reality of this executive order has been to further vilify the work of progressive organisations who are working for human rights and Development Justice. Although repressive tactics have been used for decades by government officials and their supporters against civil society and opposition leaders in the Philippines, these attacks have escalated over the past eight years. There has been intimidation, harassment, red-tagging,¹ police brutality, and in some cases, politically-motivated extrajudicial killings of political leaders, farmers, and Indigenous Peoples. As a result of this, some women activists, including those in the urban poor movement, have reported that they have been forced to slow or discontinue their activism and advocacy, out of fear for their personal safety.²

In one example of the impacts of Executive Order No. 70, in Mindanao, government actors have accused community schools operated by Indigenous Lumad people of being rebel training grounds, thereby vilifying them and restricting their operations. Military personnel have approached Lumad people and threatened them with reprisals, such as restrictions on their access to social security and cash transfer programmes, if they continue to enrol their children in Lumad schools. This has undermined the self-determination of Lumad people and their right to culturally-appropriate and quality education.³

Approximately 27 per cent of the Kongreso (Congress), Kapulungan Ng Mga Kinatawan (House of Representatives) are women.⁴ However, many women in politics in the Philippines belong to political dynasties, reflecting long-standing power structures and hierarchies in the country. In common political practice, many women fill the seats that were formerly occupied by male family members, in order to preserve familial privilege and power.

Militarism has also become integrated into other aspects of governance, further reflecting patriarchal and authoritarian styles of leadership. During Duterte’s administration, military men were appointed to positions in non-military government departments. These include the Department of Interior and Local Government (DILG), the Department of Social Welfare and Development (DSWD), and the Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR), reflecting the increased power and prestige of the military. In contrast, there have been reprisals against government officials who have stood up to mining interests and corporations, such as in the case of former DENR secretary Gina Lopez who did so in Mindanao.⁵ Additionally, under Duterte, there was an ‘unparalleled outbreak of sexism and misogyny’.⁶ Senator Risa Hontiveros tracked the number of public sexist and misogynist remarks made by the former president, which averaged one per month. These included extremely violent and sexual remarks such as calls for explicit violence against women, reflecting his disdain for women especially those who criticised him and his policies.⁷

Patriarchal values continue to reinforce women’s lack of socioeconomic power and vulnerability to poverty. There is severe income and wealth inequality in the Philippines; the richest 50 people own as much as a quarter of GDP, while 21.9 million Filipinos live in poverty.¹ Women, children, farmers, and fishers have higher rates of poverty than the overall population.

Filipina women are largely expected to fulfil traditional roles as caregivers, with slow change in social norms around gendered expectations. Women and girls 15 years of age and older had a labour force participation rate of 46 per cent in 2022.² Much of women’s income is considered supplemental to family incomes, and their dual roles as caregivers and workers are promoted by neoliberal technocrats who promote women’s participation in home-based and contract work, such as in small enterprises. The gender wage gap continues, where women receive 3 per cent to 25 per cent lower daily wage compared to men in almost all occupation groups. There is a low availability of childcare services in the country, yet declining fertility rates as well.³ Although there are laws protecting women’s rights, these realities continue to subject women to marginalisation.

Almost a fifth of women are reported to have experienced intimate partner violence in their lifetimes,⁴ although this is likely an undercount due to stigma and gaps in reporting. Online and technology-facilitated GBV is also on the rise, with many victims and survivors girls under 18 years of age.⁵

The Philippines is also one of the top origin countries in the world for migrant workers, and these migrant workers are disproportionately women. In the past two decades, an average of 172,000 Filipina women migrant workers have gone overseas per year. The main countries and territories that they go to are Hong Kong, Singapore, Taiwan, Malaysia, and the Gulf States. Migrant women are employed largely in low-waged sectors such as domestic work, nursing, entertainment, and other services. Women in these sectors are vulnerable to abuse, and many are unprotected and economically exploited.

The colonial economy that was imposed on most of contemporary Indonesia relied heavily on cash crop agriculture and fossil fuel extraction. During the 1970s, under the Suharto regime, Indonesia began its industrialisation through an import-substitution strategy, which promoted domestic production to replace imports. This model shifted towards an export-oriented growth strategy in the 1980s. As a result, Indonesia experienced significant economic growth until the Asian Financial Crisis.

The economic development model of Indonesia has increasingly moved towards free trade. Indonesia has been a member of the World Trade Organization (WTO) since its founding in 1995.¹ It is increasingly pursuing Free Trade Agreements (FTAs) on a bilateral and regional basis, both independently and as a member of ASEAN. It is a party to the ASEAN Free Trade Area, and ASEAN as a whole has trade agreements with Australia, China, Hong Kong, India, Japan, Korea, and New Zealand. In August 2022, Indonesia’s parliament approved its entry into the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership (RCEP), the world’s largest FTA, estimated to cover 30 per cent of global GDP. Indonesia has signed bilateral FTAs with Australia, Chile, and Mozambique, and also through the European Free Trade Association signed agreements with Iceland, Liechtenstein, Norway, and Switzerland. It has bilateral trade agreements as well with Japan, Korea, Australia, Pakistan.² It is currently still engaged in long-term negotiations for an FTA with the European Union, with the latest round of negotiations held in December 2023 in Brussels.³ There are also proposals to negotiate a limited FTA with the United States regarding minerals for electric vehicle batteries.⁴

One impact of trade liberalisation has been a number of trade disputes involving Indonesia. These cases arise when one party issues a case claiming that another party is violating the agreements under the WTO, and can have significant economic impacts. Currently, Indonesia is involved in 15 cases as a complainant, 15 as a respondent, and 49 as a third party.⁵

Indonesia’s national government debt reached USD 528.3 billion in December 2023.⁶ Its external debt was 38.6 per cent of GDP as of the start of 2024.⁷ This debt has significantly decreased since the late 1990s, and has remained relatively constant over the past decade. It is lower as a percentage of GDP than most other countries in ASEAN.⁸

Since 2015, the Government of Indonesia (GoI) has also made the development of Special Economic Zones (SEZs) a priority policy. This is part of a broader policy shift whereby the government is pursuing policies that make it easier for foreign investors to do business in Indonesia. By 2018, Indonesia had jumped to 72nd in the world in the World Bank’s Ease of Doing Business Index. As of 2022, there are 19 SEZs located across the archipelago from Java and its nearby provinces. These SEZs provide infrastructure and incentives to investors, such as tax relief. In 2023, Indonesia recorded USD 47.34 billion in foreign direct investment (FDI), an increase of 13.7 per cent.⁹ It has one of the world’s largest textile and garment industries, which generates over USD 13 billion in annual exports, and employs over 3 million workers.^10,11

Free trade and market liberalisation have resulted in deregulation,¹ and have had harmful impacts on the environment as well as on workers’ rights. SEZs primarily use informal employment systems, where workers are hired on a contract basis, keeping labour costs down and giving companies the power to fire at will.² There has been a race to the bottom for profit maximisation, whereby companies have opened factories in areas with the lowest minimum wage requirements such as West, Central, and East Java and Banten. One survey by the Asia Floor Wage Alliance (AFWA) found that around 64 per cent of garment workers in Indonesia suffered unpaid layoffs and terminations.³ Women workers have been reportedly also subjected to sexual harassment and workplace violence at their places of work. The new Omnibus Law on Job Creation (No. 2/2022) has made labour relations even more flexible by promoting fixed term contracts (FTCs). Labour flexibilisation policies have increased child labour, limited workers’ access to social protection and services, circumvented laws including around minimum wage, suppressed freedom of association, and violated workers’ rights to decent work.

These injustices are compounded by gender pay gaps, ranging from a 13 per cent gap in formal employment to 63 per cent in lower wage and informal sector jobs.⁴ Informal workers, who are disproportionately women, also fall through the cracks in the existing safety net where it does exist, and there has been slow progress in signing up informal workers for their social security. By September 2019, only approximately 4 or 5 million out of 70 million informal workers had signed up for a government social security scheme. Additionally, workers are denied their rights to menstrual leave and maternity leave; the new Omnibus bill has enabled employers to classify these benefits as voluntary ‘breaks’ or ‘long breaks’, thereby making them unpaid.⁵

Many Indonesian workers, including women, continue to migrate abroad for employment. This phenomenon has a significant but often under recognised contribution to alleviating poverty, as well as providing employment and economic development. Remittances also make a contribution to the economy, which comprised 0.8 per cent of GDP and USD 9.96 billion in 2022.⁶ Indonesia has agreements with countries and territories such as Taiwan, Republic of Korea, Canada, Macau, Singapore, Japan, Saudi Arabia, and Timor-Leste for the regularisation of migrant labour abroad. However, in reality, many migrant workers have gone to countries outside of these specific pathways, particularly throughout the Gulf States region. In 2015, Indonesia imposed a ban on migrant workers to the Middle East due to labour abuses.⁷ This ban has since been lifted, but in the years it was in effect, it failed to stop migration. Workers instead migrated under other categories, such as Hajj visas, and recruiters engaged in contract substitution, recruiting for roles in the formal sector but employing people on arrival in the informal sector. These conditions made domestic workers in particular less safe. Unscrupulous recruitment agencies specifically targeted young women, withholding their documents, and in some cases forcing contraception or other health procedures on them, violating their rights to bodily autonomy and health. The confluence of these factors has also increased the risks and vulnerability of women to human trafficking.

Indonesia has been pursuing Public Private Partnerships (PPPs) as a strategy to harness private capital for infrastructure development and other development goals since 2005.¹ The original legal framework from that time was then changed in 2015 through Presidential Regulation Number 38 of 2015, which aimed to increase Indonesia’s openness to PPPs.² At the moment, PPPs are being increasingly advocated for, particularly in the infrastructure sector, as a mode of recovering from the pandemic and increasing Indonesia’s international competitiveness.³ In infrastructure, efforts are being undertaken with the assistance of the World Bank to decrease the ‘reluctance’ of government actors to pivot from public works projects to PPPs.⁴

There is an increase in influence of private capital, including foreign capital, over the development trajectory of Indonesia. For example, between 2008 and 2017, only three out of 10 contracts awarded by the World Bank were granted to Indonesian companies. The rest went to foreign firms from Japan, China, South Korea, and Italy.⁵ Palm oil companies have been noted by Transparency International as being particularly susceptible to corporate capture, due to their political exposure, lack of transparency, conflicts of interests, and revolving-door politics.⁶ Research on the top 50 palm oil companies has indicated that revolving-door practices where business people sponsor politicians or political parties and then are appointed themselves are commonplace in Indonesia, meaning that there is no way of truly certifying that companies are free from illegal practices.⁷ Government lobbying takes place without monitoring, meaning that policies and regulations are increasingly favourable to the private sector.

The influence of private capital is also prevalent in the mining sector, where corporations act with impunity and despite court rulings against them. In one case, the company PT Tambang Mas Sangihe, an Indonesian subsidiary of Canada-based Baru Gold Group, is aiming to continue their operations to extract gold on Sangihe Island. Multiple courts have ruled against the company but they are continuing operations, and activists who have protested them have been arrested under politically-motivated charges.⁸ There has been a great deal of state repression of activists who mobilise against violations in the mining sector. Article 162 has been widely criticised by activists for ostensibly quashing all opposition to mining activities and undermining the rights of local communities.⁹ This article potentially violates the 2009 law on environmental protection. Corporations that mine nickel – a critical mineral – are failing to provide for free, prior, and informed consent of Indigenous Peoples, and are failing to conduct their operations in ways that do not violate human rights and sustainability guidelines.¹⁰ The Indonesian government has issued over 300 nickel mining permits to 12 companies as of 2023, including in regions such as Sulawesi, Papua, and West Papua.¹¹

Indonesia has a Just Energy Transition Project (JETP) as of 2022, which is aiming to reshape the energy sector.¹² This initiative is a large step towards privatisation, pushed by International Financial Institutions (IFIs) like the World Bank, opening up space for corporations to take control of Indonesia’s energy future. Private investors are pursuing their own interests in the aim of making the most profit, which has meant that only USD 1.3 billion from the estimated USD 95.9 billion projected for 2023-2030 is allocated for efforts at early phasing out of coal. As a result, civil society is heavily criticising the JETP, which threatens both a just transition for communities as well as the prospect of a renewable energy future.¹³

In 2022, Indonesia began its presidency of the G20. This was despite criticisms from civil society about corporate capture and the G20’s role in perpetuating global inequalities, the climate crisis, and injustice, in parallel to the country’s own domestic record of natural resource exploitation and human rights abuses.¹⁴ The neoliberal development model and enshrined corporate power promoted through the G20 has been noted to undermine democratic governance in the country.¹⁵

After the Asian Financial Crisis in 1997, income inequality significantly increased in Indonesia. The Gini coefficient, which is a statistical measure that aims to quantify how much inequality there is in terms of income and wealth,¹ increased from 0.308 in 1999 to 0.413 in 2013, which was the highest recorded value in recent Indonesian history.² A great deal of the benefits of economic growth have gone to the wealthiest 20 of the population, leaving behind the rest. Women report that some of the cause of this inequality is that most Indonesians are employed in small and medium enterprises, which have largely been unaffected by economic growth.³ This level of inequality has led to increased social rigidity, limited social mobility, and led to weak social stability. People with disabilities are among the most marginalised within the broader population, and are the most likely to live below the poverty line as a result of the continued prevalence of ad-hoc, charity-based as opposed to rights-based approaches.

In recent years, there have been some efforts to reduce income inequality and increase social spending. There has been a decrease in income inequality since 2015, but this decrease has since plateaued.⁴ Indonesia’s Palma ratio from 2010 to 2017 was 1.8, which means that the highest 10 percentile income group has 1.8 times more income compared to the income of the lowest 40 percentile income group in the country.

From 2010 onwards, the national government committed to keeping education expenditure high – as much as 20 per cent of government spending. Education is critical for social mobility and for supporting individual and collective development. However, health spending is still below what is needed to ensure that all people in Indonesia have access to quality health care. In 2009, a law was passed to require that 5 per cent of the national budget and 10 per cent of local government budgets go to the health sector. This requirement was abolished in August 2023, and is expected to have further impacts on health equity in the country.⁵ In 2014, the Jaminan Kesehatan Nasional (JKN) public health insurance scheme was implemented, aimed at providing universal public insurance, although this has suffered from uneven quality and progress.⁶ Some note that budgeted numbers also do not reflect the reality of investments in public services and infrastructure, because the government faces issues with implementation of spending targets.⁷ For people with disabilities, there are particular barriers to health. Although there is no legalised discrimination in terms of accessing healthcare, many hospital buildings are not accessible, and there is a lack of expertise among the medical community in treating people with disabilities.

Indonesia is the host to many diverse ecosystems, such as sea and coastal systems, peat swamp forests, and other forests. Approximately one third of the population of Indonesia is employed in agriculture, and women are 30 per cent of these agricultural workers.¹ Many farmers, approximately 60 per cent of farming households, are small land holders, who grow multiple crops such as paddy for household consumption and local sale.² But there are vast inequalities in access to and ownership of land, both between the country’s wealthiest and the poor as well as on gendered ownership lines. Land ownership in Indonesia is among the most unequal in the world: 74 per cent of land is owned by 0.2 per cent of the richest people in the country.³

In terms of gendered inequalities, deeply-rooted patriarchal norms have restricted women’s control over and access to land. In 1993, women only owned 8.8 per cent of land in Indonesia. More recent statistics indicate that this divide may be narrowing: the National Land Agency (Badan Pertanahan Nasional/BPN) reported in 2020 that 24.2 per cent of land was registered under female ownership.⁴ Other contrasting statistics from Indonesia’s 2021 Voluntary National Review (VNR) indicate that among the agricultural population with land rights, women’s ownership of agricultural land was approximately 19 per cent. But there are smaller numbers of the female population overall who own land: 12.7 per cent of women are reported in World Bank statistics to own land alone.⁵ Barriers to women’s land ownership include unequal inheritance rights, uneven access to information, women’s roles and responsibilities in the domestic and care sphere, and lack of accommodation of the needs of women farmers.⁶

Communities report that throughout Indonesia, the rainforests are facing both illegal and legal land grabs, particularly for palm oil cultivation.⁷ The expansion of palm oil plantations has driven deforestation in Indonesia in recent decades. Palm oil is the largest type of plantation in the country, spanning approximately seven per cent of land area (13.3 Mha). This has had devastating effects on the land rights of indigenous and rural communities, as well as harmful effects on the climate and natural ecosystems of Indonesia.

There is high vulnerability to climate change in Indonesia, because the country has over 80,000 kilometres of coastline, 17,000 islands, high levels of biodiversity, and high population density in urban centres.¹ Climate change is increasing the propensity for disasters such as landslides, forest fires, and flooding, exacerbating existing vulnerability to earthquakes, seismic shocks, and typhoons. Periodically, Indonesia will experience peaks in natural disasters, resulting in high levels of displacement and ecological impacts due to successive disasters and repetitive loss. Between January and March 2021, for example, there were at least 650 natural disasters, which displaced 3 million people.

Indonesia is responsible for 3.11 per cent of current global carbon emissions. In its Nationally Determined Contribution (NDC), which it submitted an enhanced version of in September 2022, Indonesia has established a target of 43.2 per cent conditional emissions reduction by 2030 (targets which would require external financial support) and 31.89 per cent unconditional emissions reduction (which Indonesia could achieve independently).² The revised NDC includes various targets for 2030, specifically restoring 2 million hectares of peatlands and rehabilitating 12 million hectares of degraded lands. It also enhances the plan on adaptation. Other climate plans that Indonesia has outlined include more clean energy, developing a climate vulnerability index, and increasing resilience for disaster risk management. However, some civil society actors are concerned that Indonesia’s climate action plans are insufficient given the increase in coal usage.

Energy, specifically oil and gas, continues to be a major industry in Indonesia. Indonesia has had an oil and gas industry for over 100 years, and it is Southeast Asia’s primary liquid natural gas provider. In addition, it is also the fourth biggest coal producer in the world. Indonesia’s oil imports have increased in recent years³ and its coal production is also increasing, undermining its climate goals.

The clearing of forests for farming has also had a devastating impact on Indonesia’s natural environment and on Indigenous lands and sovereignty. Global Forest Watch has reported that 55 per cent of deforestation is in legal concession areas, but 45 per cent is occurring in protected areas where theoretically no exploitation is allowed. Overall, in 1990, there was 65.4 per cent forest cover, and today there is 48.4 per cent forest cover.⁴ Certain regions such as Riau are the main sites of tree cover loss, with four regions of the country responsible for 51 per cent of all tree cover loss.⁵ In Aceh, Riau, and Kalimantan, the main reason for deforestation is palm oil expansion, primarily by large corporations. This has led to loss of biodiversity; loss of livelihoods for rural and Indigenous communities who rely on the land; conflict with Indigenous communities; and environmental issues due to erosion.

Over recent decades, Indonesia has decreased its spending on the military as a percentage of GDP from a high of 3.5 per cent in 1975 to a range of between 0.6 and 0.8 per cent, where it has hovered for around 20 years.¹ However, at the end of 2023, the Government of Indonesia approved a 20 per cent increase in its military spending, to ‘respond to geopolitical developments’.² Rising competition between the United States and China is dragging many governments in the region into these geopolitical tensions and power struggles, resulting in increased militarisation.

There has been a longstanding conflict over the status of West Papua, with its roots in factors including the denial of self-determination, the undemocratic integration of West Papua into Indonesia, settlement of other communities on Indigenous Papuan lands, and Indonesian military operations. There are both nonviolent and armed movements for Papuan rights, identity, and independence. Rather than addressing the many roots of this situation, the state has pursued increased development and infrastructure projects in West Papua. Reports have shown a deteriorating human rights situation and escalation of violence against Indigenous Papuans in both the regions of Papua and West Papua, including killing of children, disappearances, torture, and mass displacement.³ The number of people who have been displaced since 2018 is estimated at between 60,000 and 100,000 people. In response, UN human rights experts have called for investigations and for urgent humanitarian assistance and access, as access to the region is heavily restricted.⁴ The expression of views that support Papuan self-determination and rights is heavily restricted in Indonesia.⁵

The tourism sector and development of Special Economic Zones (SEZs) for tourism outside of Bali has also been associated with militarisation and human rights violations against local communities, including Indigenous Peoples. For example, the Mandalika project, located in Lombok’s West Nusa Tenggara Province, has a task force for settling land disputes that includes police and the provincial army. UN human rights experts have also raised the alarm that there has been intimidation of Indigenous Peoples in Mandalika to cede their lands, and have called for security forces to be removed from the task force.⁶ This project is implemented by State-owned enterprise Indonesia Tourism and Development Corporation (ITDC) and is primarily funded by the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank (AIIB). This case demonstrates the links between militarisation, land grabbing, neoliberal development, and violations of Indigenous Peoples rights.

Other parts of Indonesia have recent histories of armed conflict, with enduring legacies in the present day. In Aceh, from the 1970s until 2005 there was an armed conflict between a separatist movement seeking Acehnese independence and the Indonesian military. This conflict was characterised by widespread human rights violations perpetrated by the Indonesian military against people in Aceh, including assault, torture, detention, murder, and gendered violations such as sexual violence. Although official numbers are contested, it is estimated that between 10,000 and 30,000 people were killed in the conflict in Aceh before the signing of the peace agreement in 2005.^7,8

In 2004, Sumatra was devastated by the tsunami, which killed over 160,000 people. The destruction of the tsunami, and the urgent need for reconstruction and recovery, contributed to momentum for peace negotiations to end decades of armed conflict. In 2005, the parties signed the Helsinki Memorandum of Understanding (MoU), which committed the parties to the recovery and rebuilding of Aceh post-tsunami and also called for the creation of a Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC).⁹ However, many survivors have not still received justice or reparations to this day and many survivors of the armed conflict, particularly women survivors, continue to suffer from stigma and discrimination. The conflict has had prolonged impacts on the lives of women survivors of conflict, including physical and psychological trauma, stigma and discrimination, lack of access to reproductive healthcare and education, and barriers to participation in society. Thousands of women were widowed and tens of thousands of children were orphaned, and these women-headed households disproportionately live in poverty.¹⁰

The percentage of women in parliament in Indonesia has increased over the past 20 years, from 8 per cent in 2004 to around 21 per cent today.¹ In some regional parliaments, these numbers are lower, and in the 2019 elections, no women were elected in 25 out of 167 of district parliaments. These low numbers reflect the urgent need for progress in advancing women’s leadership and participation in decision making. For example, in Aceh, when the Sharia law was implemented, women were most affected by the law’s personal status provisions but were least involved in decision making around it. These systematic and cultural barriers that hold back women’s leadership also limit women’s access to credit and loans, exacerbating inequalities in access to land and entrepreneurship.

In recent years, state actors have imposed militarised tactics and modes of repression on social movements, including targeted repression of trade unions and striking workers. The labour movement historically played a significant role in the democratisation and anti-authoritarian movements in Indonesia.² However, on 23 January 2018, the national army and police signed an MoU to strengthen the army’s role in suppressing labour disputes and demonstrations. This has infringed on the free expression of workers and their rights to collective bargaining.³ Trade union membership has also been on the decline in recent years in Indonesia. The International Trade Union Confederation rates Indonesia as having ‘no guarantee of rights’, due to lack of adequate protections and strict regulation of the freedom of association and right to collective bargaining. This is despite the fact that since 1998 the International Labour Organisation (ILO) Convention 87 on Freedom of Association and Protection of the Right to Organise has been in force in Indonesia.⁴

There remain significant cultural and structural barriers to achieving women’s human rights and gender equality in Indonesia. Indonesia is ranked 110th in the UNDP Gender Inequality Index, indicating that there is significant progress that must be made to achieve gender equality and SDG 5. Maternal mortality is higher than the regional average, with 177 deaths per 100,000. However, there also remain large regional divides across the country in terms of human development and gender equality, both in terms of material realities and attitudes. For example, in surveys asking women about their level of decision-making about their own bodies in terms of sex and contraception and secondly, on reproductive healthcare, in Central Kalimantan 42.6 per cent and 55.1 per cent of respondents respectively indicated they had autonomy over these kinds of decisions, and in Aceh only 15.1 per cent and 23.1 per cent respectively.¹

Anti-gender discourses are on the rise in Indonesia, impacting both men’s and women’s attitudes towards women’s human rights and reinforcing patriarchal violence, structures, and norms. The rate of child marriage has declined in Indonesia, but 16.3 per cent of women aged 20-24 years old were married or in a union before the age of 18.² The prevalence of this phenomenon is higher in rural areas, and among women with lower levels of education and in lower-income houses.³ In one dispiriting survey, there was an increase in the percentage of women who believe that a husband is justified in using violence against his wife – 32 per cent in 2017, up from 24.8 per cent in 2003.⁴ Many women also report that they do not believe they are justified in refusing sex from their husbands.⁵ Reported rates of gender-based and intimate partner violence remain lower than the region as a whole. However, this has been described as an ‘iceberg phenomenon’ as there is significant underreporting.

Gender disparities are extremely visible in the labour market and economy. Patriarchy is the driving force behind gender-based occupational segregation, leading women to accept poorly-remunerated jobs with less decision making power. The female literacy rate in Indonesia is 95.7 per cent for women over 15 years of age. However, the labour force participation rate among women in 2022 was only 52.7 per cent, as opposed to nearly 30 percentage points higher for men at 80.6 per cent in the same year.⁶

The gap in the labour force participation rate, particularly in the formal sector, can be explained by many factors including discrimination, limited choice of jobs for women, absence of supportive facilities, and cultural attitudes and norms that discourage women from working outside the home. Female unemployment overall is listed at only 3 per cent in 2022⁷⁸, but women report that this relatively low number does not paint the whole picture. For example, far more women than men are in vulnerable forms of employment: respectively, 58.3 per cent to 43.4 per cent as of 2021.⁹ There are low wages and poor working conditions in female-dominated industries like housekeeping, hotels, restaurants, and wholesale and retail trade. Women in these sectors often have limited access to contracts, worker unions, and fair work agreements. These reports also show that women with disabilities face double discrimination: 40.11 per cent of women with medium levels of disability were working and 31.99 per cent with severe disabilities. For men, these numbers were 82.69 per cent and 69.59 per cent respectively.