What Lies Behind the Soaring Accommodation Prices for COP 30?
The COP 30 accommodation crisis exposes the negligence of the State and the persistence of a colonial gaze over the Amazon
Bruna Balbi
August 8, 2025
When Belém (Pará) was chosen to host the world’s largest climate gathering, COP 30, Brazil signaled to the world that the Amazon is not an exotic forest to be exploited but a political protagonist of our time. And this was the right choice. The Amazon is not a backstage: it is the stage. It is here that the planet’s climate future will be decided.
Still, sectors of the government, media, business, and international diplomacy continue to view the region through the same old colonizing lens. In recent weeks, arguments such as “the city cannot host COP” or “basic conditions to receive global leaders are lacking” have intensified. What these criticisms omit is any real concern for ensuring the participation of local people and the peoples of the region.
The narrative that seeks to disqualify the city as host of COP 30 is symptomatic of an updated colonialism, one that attempts to shift the center of the climate debate back to the country’s hegemonic poles—such as the Rio-São Paulo-Brasília axis—where political and economic elites feel more comfortable.
It is in this context that the controversy over soaring accommodation prices in Belém and surrounding municipalities emerges, already reported by national and international outlets. And with it, a veiled attempt to suggest that the city is not fit to host the event.
This is where the debate must be reframed. What lies behind the explosion in prices is not some supposed inability of Belém or the people of Pará to host the world. Belém, in fact, has already hosted major international events such as the World Social Forum, marked by strong popular participation and robust international articulation. What the criticisms actually reveal is the persistent prejudice against the Amazon as a legitimate place for political organization—and the negligence of the State, which, in the face of speculation, chose not to act.
Amazon: Yesterday and Today
The external gaze upon the Amazon shifts according to the intent to control, use, or exploit its territories. When Amazonian peoples resist occupation, they are branded as savages—and the forest, demonized. When there is interest in advancing over their lands, it becomes a demographic void, as with the construction of the BR-163 highway. And when the aim is to exploit it economically, environmentalist discourses emerge that, under the pretext of conservation, attempt to monetize the forest while displacing its true guardians. This is what is happening now with the strong push for carbon markets.
“Lungs of the world. Green hell. Biodiversity reservoir. Heritage of humanity. No man’s land. Storehouse of natural resources.” The list is long—and could continue with the many labels that have already been imposed on the Amazon. But it is always worth remembering: when we speak of the Amazon, we are referring to a region spanning over 6 million square kilometers, crossing nine South American countries, and encompassing nine Brazilian states alone. This is no small matter. More than half of Brazil’s territory is Amazon.
It bears repeating because there is a striking gap between discourse and reality—similar to what is seen in world maps, which distort proportions and shrink entire continents. Africa and South America often appear diminished in traditional cartographic representations, especially when compared to the countries that colonized them. Even Brazil—one of the largest countries in the world—is often represented as smaller than nations of the Global North.
Within this same imaginary framework, the Amazon occupies an even more marginal place: a colony within a colony, historically exploited even by its own national peers. The yardstick of the Global North shrinks the South—but neither truly sees the world’s largest tropical forest for what it is.
This misunderstanding is not only discursive—it is material. Today, the Amazon is exploited for soy production destined for European and Asian markets, reliant on heavy pesticide use. It is flooded by reservoirs for hydropower generation feeding industry and mining. We have poisoned forests, collapsing biodiversity, disrupted rainfall patterns, and rising fires. Rivers are replaced by waterways and ports to transport commodities. A survey by Terra de Direitos highlighted the accelerated growth of port installations in the Tapajós region—mainly after the enactment of the Ports Law (Law nº 12.815) in 2013—marked by irregularities in licensing processes. In just ten years, the number of ports in the Tapajós doubled.
What is at stake in the criticism of Belém hosting COP is the brutal contradiction of a climate conference being held at the very epicenter of the socio-environmental impacts that sustain the lifestyle of those organizing it.
Belém, a Gateway to the Amazon
Belém is one of the main entry points to the Amazon. Located where the forest meets the ocean, the city bears deep marks of its colonial origins. These can be seen in its old mansions, baroque churches, and even in the local dialect—but also in its absences: precarious sanitation and persistent urban inequalities.
The city’s structural vulnerabilities, as visible as they are exploited by media coverage, did not appear by chance. They are the result of centuries of exploitation that concentrated wealth in the hands of a few and relegated the majority to the margins. Urban Amazonia—Belém included—was also shaped by this model that separates nature from humanity and turns everything into a commodity. Today, the cost is paid in the form of inequality, exclusion, and climate crisis. And it is felt primarily by those whom the State continues to deny rights: Black communities, Indigenous peoples, and traditional populations.
So, after all, what lies behind the soaring accommodation prices? More than private opportunism, it is public negligence. Speculation thrives because the State Government of Pará—legally and politically obliged to act—chose to stand by as a spectator.
Responsibility Has a Name and an Address
Brazil’s Consumer Defense Code is clear: raising prices without just cause is an abusive practice. The Federal Constitution, in Articles 23 (V) and 24 (VIII), also establishes that states share concurrent authority with the Union to legislate and enforce matters related to consumer protection and to act in the face of economic imbalances.
It is essential that state governments exercise these powers clearly and effectively. In the case of COP 30, the most urgent and effective response must come from the state of Pará, whose action is decisive given the immediacy of the problem.
Furthermore, the state government, under the leadership of Hélder Barbalho, is geographically, institutionally, and politically closer to the situation. It is the entity most capable of acting immediately to curb commercial speculation and prevent it from undermining Brazil’s image—and, above all, popular participation in the event.
The absence of action by Hélder Barbalho’s government reveals, at the very least, a strategic political mistake and, more gravely, a lack of commitment to Amazonian protagonism. In this scenario, the federal government must also assume its responsibility: either it demands urgent measures from the state government or it will share responsibility for the omissions and their consequences.
This is not just about controlling hotel prices. It is about ensuring that COP 30 is rooted in the territory that matters most in this debate—the Amazon—with the active participation of Indigenous peoples, traditional communities, peasants, social movements, urban youth from the peripheries, and international actors who believe in another vision for the world.
The dispute over COP 30 reveals far more than a price crisis: it exposes the historical unease with the centrality—and above all, the autonomy—of the Amazon. The question is not merely where an event will take place, but who has the right to speak, decide, and exist.
The forest is not at the service of anyone but itself. No leaf falls by chance—it is jambo season, and one can see the leaves covering the ground to cushion the fruits that drop from above to become food. It is from this unique, generous, and indomitable cycle that Amazonian knowledge, bodies, and struggles are born. COP 30 in Belém is a call to listening and commitment. There will be no climate justice without recognizing—and respecting—this protagonism.
Bruna Balbi is a legal advisor at the human rights organization Terra de Direitos and a member of the People’s Summit Towards COP 30.
Reproduction of article published in Le Monde Diplomatique Brasil
