CABO DE LA VELA, Colombia — Towering wind turbines cast shadows over a cemetery that holds deep significance for Zoyla Velasquez and the Indigenous Wayuu community, indigenous to the La Guajira region of northern Colombia.

This dry and windy area, characterized by cacti and roaming goats, holds great potential for Colombia to establish itself as a leader in renewable wind and solar energy. However, opposition from the Wayuu people has delayed numerous proposed developments from multinational companies and government initiatives. The community has raised concerns regarding environmental degradation, cultural impacts, and the absence of prior consultation in one of the country’s economically disadvantaged areas. These companies are now also exploring the possibility of offshore wind farms in the region.

“This cemetery is sacred to us, the Wayuu,” Velasquez, 64, expressed in Spanish, though her preferred language is Wayuunaiki. According to Wayuu leadership, the threat extends beyond the cemetery itself to the spirituality of the entire territory. “It is here that the bones of our ancestors lie. That is what we value the most.”

This region has the capacity to produce about 15 gigawatts of wind energy, which could potentially provide electricity for approximately 37.5 million homes annually, as estimated by Colombia’s Mining and Energy Planning Unit. This initiative is part of Colombia’s transition to renewable energy, aiming to replace fossil fuels and support vulnerable groups including Indigenous populations. However, the Wayuu assert this transition is not taking place effectively.

Rising tensions are palpable as construction on the La Guajira 1 wind farm commenced in 2020, overshadowing the cemetery near Cabo de la Vela. The project advanced through a combination of legal procedures, government support, and contentious negotiations lacking adequate prior consultation. Despite generating electricity since 2022, the facility is yet to connect to the national grid.

“Wayuu spirituality is foundational to our existence,” stated Aníbal Mercado, a leader within the regional Wayuu council. Due to his firm resistance to the project, he did not participate in the consultations. “If anything disturbs the tranquility of our deceased, it impacts our spiritual peace. As long as those turbines stand, it will lead to violations and distress.”

Many within the Wayuu community continue to uphold traditional, semi-nomadic lifestyles in “rancherias,” which are huts made from dried cacti and mud. They raise livestock, including cattle and goats, and engage in traditional governance rooted in their cultural and spiritual practices. Concerns linger about the government’s hurried approvals for new developments, which critics argue could further intensify conflicts.

“La Guajira has attracted the attention of numerous companies,” noted Samuel Lanao, director of Corpoguajira, the region’s environmental authority. “When foreign companies enter these territories intending to exploit renewable energy sources, conflict is inevitable.”

The Colombian government has made commitments to uphold Indigenous rights through various legal frameworks, such as the 1991 Constitution, which acknowledges Indigenous autonomy, as well as international agreements requiring prior consultation and involvement in significant decisions affecting these communities. The 2016 Peace Agreement also addressed the rights of Indigenous peoples regarding land restitution and political participation.

Concerns over social issues are growing among companies, with 57 proposed projects currently stalled, as reported by Indepaz, a Bogotá-based development organization. While some are domestic initiatives, many involve international firms from Brazil, Europe, the United States, and Canada.

“It’s evident that they’re apprehensive. Progress on energy transition projects has slowed due to this conflict,” said Lanao. “The national government plays a crucial role in facilitating an agreement between the community and companies.”

Colombia’s environmental ministry has not responded to requests for comments on these developments.

The La Guajira region is also home to Cerrejon, one of the world’s largest open-pit coal mines, which has been operational since 1985 and significantly contributes to Latin America’s mining sector. With only nine years remaining in its operational life, the mine’s closure — without alternative strategies — could severely impact the region’s economy.

“The implications of this energy transition are profound for us,” Lanao commented. “The renewable energy sector needs to compensate for the income that the coal industry currently provides in La Guajira.”

Establishing wind projects in Guajira is critical for ensuring a stable electricity supply in Colombia, according to Margarita Nieves, founder of the Colombian Offshore Wind Research Network and a native of La Guajira.

Nieves highlighted that this development offers a chance to create new jobs and position the region as a hub for producing goods and services for the wind energy sector, thus addressing the electricity needs of its residents. However, differing views on economic benefits are creating friction within the Wayuu community. Some members back development initiatives for financial reasons.

The media has reported that several Wayuu families residing near the wind turbines do not oppose the companies involved, as they have received financial support and housing assistance. Nevertheless, skepticism remains among others.

“There’s a saying that if you’ve never owned a chicken, manure looks like an egg to you,” Mercado remarked when discussing community members who accept help from companies, noting that what they receive is far less than just compensation. “Many communities have never had anything. Amidst their urgent needs, any amount offered now seems like a blessing, the greatest wealth to them.”

Studies are being conducted for new offshore wind farm projects as well, raising concerns among the Wayuu, particularly their traditional fishermen, known as Apalanchii.

Lanao emphasized that just because the project is situated offshore doesn’t mean these communities lack influence. The Apalanchii utilize traditional fishing techniques involving nets, hooks, and sometimes spearfishing. For them, fishing is a source of sustenance and holds cultural significance, connecting them to their forebears and the land.

“We are truly concerned about the offshore wind farms,” expressed fisherman Aaron Laguna Ipuana, 57, during a morning fishing expedition in Cabo de la Vela. “They will displace us, and the sea is everything to us. It sustains our lives.”

Mercado stressed the need for greater government involvement to ensure that the Wayuu community is adequately represented. “We fear that these projects are proceeding without proper communication about what they mean to the Wayuu people,” he stated.

“The Wayuu will defend their territory at any cost,” Mercado declared.

At the cemetery, Velasquez, clad in traditional Wayuu attire, tenderly touches and observes the graves alongside her sister and young niece, while the wind turbine blades continue to spin in the background. “The dignity of a Wayuu has been utilized by companies,” Velasquez remarked. “I hope they contribute positively for us … in a manner that respects our wishes.”