Russia’s withdrawal from the Ramsar Convention on Wetlands didn’t make global headlines—but it probably should have. At first glance, a wetlands convention may seem an unlikely casualty of war. Yet, when Contracting Parties, at their fourteenth meeting, voted to pass a resolution in response to Russia’s aggression on Ukraine, they might have unwittingly (or not?) paved the way for Moscow’s exit of the Ramsar Convention. The collateral damage of “outcasting” the aggressor state raises hard questions about the space environmental institutions have — or should have — to confront conflict, and the backlash that can follow.
In this post, we briefly retrace the steps leading to Russia’s denunciation of the Ramsar Convention, before discussing the broader stakes of this decision for environmental treaties. Mostly silent on the issue, environmental treaties have increasingly been called upon to address the impacts of armed conflicts (see, for instance, here and here) — as these impacts are often entangled with the environmental crises these treaties are dealing with. If environmental fora should engage with armed conflicts, the cost of this engagement should also be reckoned with.
Resolution XIV.20: Tracing the Fallout
At its 14th meeting, the Conference of the Contracting Parties to the Ramsar Convention passed an unprecedented resolution (Resolution XIV.20), in response to the “environmental emergency in Ukraine relating to the damage of its wetlands of international importance (Ramsar sites) stemming from the Russian Federation’s aggression” (quite the mouthful, indeed). The resolution, submitted by Ukraine and supported by a coalition of states, condemned Russia’s unjustified and unprovoked war on Ukraine and the environmental damage caused to Ukrainian Ramsar sites. The resolution called upon Russia to meet its obligations under the Convention and “cease abuses preventing fulfillment by Ukraine of its exclusive sovereign rights to protect, restore, and wisely use [its] Ramsar sites”. It further demanded that Russia “immediately, completely and unconditionally withdraw[s] all its military forces from the territory of Ukraine”.
Resolution XIV.20 mandated the Ramsar Secretariat to coordinate assessments of the affected Ramsar sites and to make recommendations on appropriate mitigation and restoration measures. Following a series of coordination and consultation activities held since COP14, the Secretariat ultimately produced a final report assessing the damages cause by the war and formulating key recommendations. The Secretariat’s work offers a welcome contribution to understanding the impacts of war on areas of environmental importance and showcases how the institutional frameworks of environmental treaties can be leveraged to address these impacts. The report’s main findings were presented during COP15, held in Zimbabwe end of July. According to the Secretariat’s assessment, 48 out of the 50 Ukrainian Ramsar sites have suffered the direct and indirect consequences of the war.
Russia’s Withdrawal: Lawful but Loaded
Unsurprisingly, Russia pushed back against the adoption of Resolution XIV.20, which it perceived as an unwarranted politicization of the COP that would significantly undermine the principle of cooperation. Four years before, at COP13 in Dubai, Russia reacted to Ukraine’s statement drawing attention to war-related impacts on its wetlands, urging a “pragmatic and nonpoliticized approach to the work of [the] Ramsar Convention.”
About a month after warning of its intention to withdraw from the Ramsar Convention, Russia announced its exit of what it says “ha[s] become a politicized instrument”, during COP15 in Victoria Falls. Russian scientists, who viewed Ramsar as an essential means of safeguarding the country’s wetlands and fostering constructive international cooperation, strongly opposed the decision to walk away.
Russia’s withdrawal is all the more significant considering the scale and importance of its wetlands. It is home to 35 wetlands of international importance listed under the Ramsar Convention, covering an area of 10.323.767 ha. These vast ecosystems play a crucial role not only for the water cycle across Eurasia, but also in supporting global biodiversity conservation and climate regulation. Their protection matters far beyond Russia’s own borders. With Russia stepping away from the Ramsar Convention, the legal and institutional frameworks having long supported the monitoring and management of these wetland risks unraveling. Without the Convention’s oversight and assistance, there is a danger that Russian wetlands will lose their formal recognition and protection, since national law currently lacks specific regulation on wetlands.
In accordance with the convention, Russia’s denunciation will take effect in four months. From that day on, core Ramsar obligations — including wise use of wetlands of international importance, information-sharing, and cooperation — will cease to bind Moscow. This leaves us wondering how much room for manoeuvre environmental institutions have when war enters the room?
A Broader Pattern? MEAs at an Age of Polycrisis
Armed conflicts can lead to significant environmental harm — and that harm doesn’t stop at borders. The idea that environmental treaties can remain insulated from armed conflicts is increasingly untenable — hence, the growing call on their institutions to engage with this crisis entanglement. Yet, if remaining silent in the face of conflict has consequences, so too, it seems, does the act of speaking out. Russia’s withdrawal raises several direct and important questions: What are the implications for the Ramsar Convention as a whole, for the effectiveness of implementing Resolution XIV.20, and, ultimately, for other environmental treaties?
As mentioned above, Russia’s exit from the Ramsar Convention results in its listed wetlands no longer falling under the Convention’s protective framework. Additionally, the international cooperation between Russia, other Contracting Parties, and the Convention itself will be disrupted—with a series of consequences, including financial ones. However, when it comes to the implementation of Resolution XIV.20 itself, a closer examination of the text reveals that it contains relatively few concrete measures specifically directed at Russia. Where such measures do exist, they are largely symbolic or condemnatory in tone, adopting a somewhat “outcasting” approach — attempting, for example, to exclude Russia from participating in events under the Convention. Therefore, it appears that the practical implementation of conservation efforts under the resolution can — and likely will — proceed with or without Russia’s involvement. In that sense, Russia’s withdrawal may not significantly hinder the resolution’s effectiveness — the extended implementation of which was proposed during COP15.
Looking at the broader picture, Russia’s withdrawal brings up two essential issues. First, it may have a “chilling effect” for other environmental treaties’ engagement with armed conflicts. Russia’s move could instill caution or fear among other COPs, potentially discouraging them from taking decisive action out of concern for provoking political backlash or prompting additional withdrawals. Second, and interwoven with this first point, is the need for a balancing act between a holistic approach to ecological threats, that factors in armed conflicts, and the politization of environmental fora. If environmental institutions should acknowledge the impacts of war on environmental protection, this acknowledgment should ideally be systemic rather than reactive and situational. This would avoid bruising political sensitivities and seemingly instilling double standards in relation to these institutions’ practice. In that sense, it’s interesting to note that during the adoption of Ramsar Resolution XIV.20 at COP14, Gabon and Venezuela highlighted that this is the first time the COP adopted such a resolution, despite armed conflicts having affected and still affecting wetlands in many other Contracting Parties (para. 240). Resolution XIV.20 is arguably an example of a decision where the pursuit of balance might have fell short.
Conclusion
Ultimately, the news of Russia’s exit from the Ramsar Convention begs the question of whether discussions around armed conflict, and related actions, actually go beyond the mandate of an environmental treaty. While a balancing act necessarily needs to be struck, we would argue that they likely do not—for two main reasons:
First, most environmental treaties combine open-ended texts with broadly-mandated institutions, which allows room to interpret wartime environmental conservation as part of the treaty’s scope of environmental protection (see, here and here). Second, from a pragmatic standpoint, if we consider the alternatives, what other concrete mechanisms do we have? Instruments under international humanitarian law or human rights law provide only limited tools for the protection of the environment in times of conflict. In this light, environmental treaties may be among the few viable frameworks through which meaningful collective action can be pursued. In this light, it is important for the COPs of environmental treaties to remain aware of this dilemma: While addressing environmental harm in armed conflict may be perceived as politically sensitive within the context of an environmental treaty, there are very few — if any — other legal avenues capable of mobilizing collective environmental protection in such situations.
The intricate relationship between environmental treaties and armed conflicts is also at the heart of the pending arbitration between Azerbaijan and Armenia, before the Permanent Court of Arbitration. This is the first inter-state arbitration case brought under the Bern Convention, though its future is uncertain in light of the recently published initialed Peace Agreement which calls for the dismissal of all inter-state claims and disputes. Whether or not the Bern Convention arbitration proceeds, alongside the Ramsar Convention’s Resolution, this case illustrates the growing influence of environmental treaties in addressing environmental damage arising from armed conflict.
