The Cost of Climate Change: Forced Relocation in Panama’s San Blas Islands

Rising sea levels led to the evacuation of about 300 Indigenous Guna families from Gardi Sugdub Island off the coast of Panama on June 1, 2024.

An aerial drone image of a small island in the teal ocean, crowded with colorful houses and boats parked around its circumference.

Gardi Sugdub, Panama. Lee Bosher. ATTRIBUTION-NONCOMMERCIAL 2.0 GENERIC

Climate change poses a threat to coastal territories around the world, as warming global temperatures lead to rising sea levels and stronger storms. Gardi Sugdub is one of 365 islands in the San Blas archipelago, many of which are expected to be underwater by 2050. The rising waters along Panama’s Pacific and Caribbean coasts are expected to subject 63 communities to climate displacement throughout the coming decades as about 2% of Panama’s coastal territory becomes submerged. Although the relocation on June 1, 2024, was successful, the 300 Guna families are the first of an estimated 38,000 people in Panama who will require relocation in the short and medium term. 

The Guna people, the Indigenous inhabitants of about 50 of the 365 islands in the San Blas archipelago, are the first of these communities to relocate. Indigenous and other marginalized communities are disproportionately affected by climate displacement, where people are forced to move because of climate-related threats or disasters. Inequities resulting from the climate crisis disproportionately harm People of Color, particularly Women of Color. After decades of attempts by Guna community members to receive relocation support, the Panamanian government finally agreed.

The Guna people have inhabited Gardi Sugdub for generations. They arrived on the island about 150 years ago when they crossed the water from the Panamanian and Colombian mainlands. The move off of the island to a landlocked community surrounded by jungle is a challenge for many because over 200 years of Guna culture have been centered around the sea. While most of Gardi Sugdub’s inhabitants relocated, about 200 people chose to stay on the island.

The relocated Guna people have moved to a new community called Isberyala Isberyala, a plot of 300 two bedroom houses situated in the forest, starkly contrasts with life on Gardi Sugdub, where houses were overcrowded and often homed by multiple families. Panama’s Ministry of Housing ensured that the Isberyala residential project includes infrastructure like electricity, playgrounds, cultural spaces and streets named after historic Guna leaders. The people in Isberyala can easily visit their old homes too, as Gardi Sugdub is only a 30-minute walk and a short boat ride away.

TO GET INVOLVED

Those looking to spread awareness and advocate against climate displacement and inequity can learn more and share knowledge with others. People can support mitigation and relief efforts by donating to organizations that support relocations like Swiss NGO Displacement Solutions and the UN Refugee Agency, which recently started a Climate Resilience Fund.

Madison Paulus

Madison is a student at George Washington University studying international affairs, journalism, mass communication, and Arabic. Born and raised in Seattle, Washington, Madison grew up in a creative, open-minded environment. With passions for human rights and social justice, Madison uses her writing skills to educate and advocate. In the future, Madison hopes to pursue a career in science communication or travel journalism.

Bridging the Inequality Gap for Panama’s Darién Province

Photo by Katie Chen on Unsplash

The Gallup-Healthways Global Well-Being Index has ranked residents of Panama as the leaders in “well-being” for two consecutive years. However, three weeks in communities of the Darién province exposed me to the destitution and gubernatorial neglect that blankets this eastern region. Inhabitants of the Darién have been stigmatized, leaving them without access to clean water, health care facilities, or economic opportunity. My experience led me not only to question the validity of the Index, but also to consider the ways we can empower a forgotten sub-population.

“A little further down the road, you’ll find that it comes to an end,” my local Panamanian guide remarked while en route to the compound where we reside for the following three weeks. At the time, the idea of a place with no road was beyond comprehension. How could people stay connected? How could they receive supplies? The answer to these questions is simple —they don’t.

Soon after arriving in Panama, I began to comprehend the “Darién Gap” which is a 99-mile swath of undeveloped swampland and forest located within Panama’s Darién province — a symbol of the many development projects that have been discontinued in the region over the past decades. I found that the double-edged sword of indigenous isolation offers cultural preservation on one side, clean water and healthcare deficiencies on the other.

The border between Panama and Colombia is the only one in the world that remains unpaved! While the decision to stop construction of the Pan-American Highway provided benefits to some groups, such as law enforcement officers against drug traffickers and indigenous inhabitants of the Gap who wish to preserve a traditional lifestyle, it also resulted in neglect of an entire region. With the fastest-growing economy in the Americas, Panama now has an opportunity to improve the quality of life for all of its citizens. Yet, despite the recent boom, the nation has the greatest economic inequality in the Americas with nearly 40 percent of the country living in poverty. Many of those who endure economic destitution live in the eastern half of the country, particularly in the Darién. 

My three weeks in Panama were dedicated to community visits throughout this beleaguered province. We met with officials and members of individual households, and conducted surveys to determine the accessibility to fundamental necessities, such as clean water, health care, and education. I was an intern for a nonprofit based in Panama City, but which conducts most of its projects with American undergraduates serving communities of the Darién. This nonprofit creates partnerships with communities located in proximity to a road or a rocky pathway that Panamanian officials call highway. More indigenous groups are sheltered within the Darién Gap, undisturbed and unacknowledged.

According to community members who responded to our surveys in July 2014, lack of access to clean water is the main problem affecting daily life for an appreciable number of residents in the Darién province. Although the Panamanian government’s Ministry of Health is responsible for water distribution by means of aqueduct systems, complications such as project incompletion, water shortages, pipeline damages, and contamination from pesticides/animals inhibit achievement of the goal. Residents described complex, inconsistent, and seasonally based methods for receiving water. In the past, families might go two months without water when a government-constructed pipeline to a water tank is broken. When water finally arrives, it will sometimes come out dirty or contaminated from passage through farmland. 

Observation and conversation with members of various communities taught me that collaboration between locals and external, resource-rich groups has been a driver for successful growth in this area. Yet, one person I met described the Darién province as “the temple of abandoned development projects” for the number of missionary and nonprofit groups that have attempted and failed to provide assistance to families in the greatest need. In an indigenous community named Emberá Puru, I noticed little blue water filters strewn about the property. The leaders explained that a missionary group had provided over 100 filters, but not explained how to use them. The group left after a week of what could be described as “voluntourism” — volunteering abroad that resembles a tourism opportunity — and the community was left with pieces of plastic polluting the land.

The neglected Darién province is not a unique case. Panamanians from other parts of the country (like Panama City) expressed surprise and/or distaste when my group revealed we were working in this eastern region. These people hold onto misconceptions, such as the idea that the Darién is filled with dangerous members of drug cartels or that it’s a completely unlivable swampland.

While the “Darién Gap” might lack a constructed road, the population of this area has done its best to overcome deficiency through resiliency. When a government or its people show indifference toward improving the lives of an entire population sector, outside measures need to be taken to reduce inequality. However, these outside measures should also be performed through culturally conscious and responsible mechanisms in order to achieve sustainable success. No clear-cut solution exists to resolve problems such as clean water, healthcare, and education inaccessibility in the Darién province, Panama. However, creative and collaborative efforts have the power to mediate substandard conditions and to catalyze change one household at a time.

SARAH SUTPHIN

Sarah is an undergraduate at Yale University and a content editor for CATALYST. As a traveler who has visited 30 countries (and counting!), she feels passionate about international development through sustainable mechanisms. Sarah has taken an interest in the intersection between public health and theater, and hopes to create a program that utilizes these disciplines for community empowerment. She is a fluent Spanish speaker with plans to take residence in Latin American after graduation.