A woman sits on the ground with a background showing the Flame Towers, one of the land marks in central Baku, host of COP29 UN Climate Change Conference (Alexander Nemenov/AFP via Getty Images)

The Flame Towers, a nod to the oil and gas that generates 90% of Azerbaijan's export revenue, one of the landmarks in central Baku, host of COP29 UN Climate Change Conference (Alexander Nemenov/AFP via Getty Images)

How “the land of fire” raised the temperature for global climate negotiations

Trust at COP29 in Azerbaijan was in short supply.

Ryan Neelam,Georgia Hammersley,Melanie Pill

29 November 20244 min read

It’s not unusual for UN negotiations to end in a deal with which most parties are unhappy.

But as COP29 – this year’s UN climate summit in Baku, Azerbaijan – wrapped up in the early hours of Sunday with frantic diplomacy and compromise, it was clear the weight of disappointment tilted heavily towards developing countries.

Panama’s special representative for climate change did not mince words: “developed nations always throw text at us at the last minute, shove it down our throat, and then, for the sake of multilateralism, we always have to accept it … we’re not satisfied whatsoever”.

For a conference aimed at forging global solidarity, trust was in short supply. Donald Trump’s re-election in the United States less than a week before COP29 opened was the most extreme example of political winds blowing against climate action, and together with global economic pressures, potentially played against countries pushing for more money.

But it was Azerbaijan’s entrenched relationship with the fossil fuels sector that drew the most attention.

The final deal saw developed countries agree to provide at least US$300 billion a year by 2035 to help poorer countries reduce their emissions and adapt to the impacts of climate change. That figure fell far below what climate vulnerable countries and independent analyses had said was needed, with many emphasising that climate finance should be seen as an historical responsibility, not charity.

A former senior climate official from an African country, however, put it this way: “Western countries say they don’t have money to help us fight climate change. But they are giving huge amounts to fight a war [in Ukraine] … There is money. It’s a question of priorities.” Of course, not everyone would agree, but this illustrates the gulf between developed and developing world perceptions.

Meanwhile, China ducked any formal obligation to hand over more money to developing nations, all the while working to solidify its position within this same bloc of countries.

Oil wells of Bibi Heybat Oil Field, situated at the coast of the Caspian Sea outside Baku (Mladen Antonov/AFP via Getty Images)

Much like last year’s COP28 in Dubai, doubts about the host nation’s capacity to pull off a unifying deal surfaced long before delegates set foot on the ground.

Consultation and consensus-building did not come naturally in a post-Soviet autocracy. Azeri President Ilham Aliyev, who succeeded his father, recently secured a fifth consecutive term in office, having won 92% in an election boycotted by the opposition. In 2012, an organisation investigating systemic crime and corruption named him “Person of the Year”. Some honour.

As COP29 approached, repression of activists and journalists reportedly intensified – not a great look for a conference known as much as a platform for civil society as intergovernmental negotiations.

But it was Azerbaijan’s entrenched relationship with the fossil fuels sector that drew the most attention. For delegates in Baku, this reality was plainly visible. Three flame-shaped towers dominate the city skyline – a nod to the oil and gas that generates 90% of the country’s export revenue, and 60% of its budget – while pumpjacks littered the city’s outskirts.

The green sheen given to the city was obvious. Electric buses shuttled delegates to the stadium venue, and the local rideshare service included a fleet of slick cars manufactured by BYD, China’s answer to Tesla. Baku was meticulously spruced up – workers picked up every fallen autumn leaf and ornate buildings were lit up to Parisian effect. At the conference venue, a converted sports stadium, logistics ran with impressive efficiency as an army of friendly Azeri student volunteers pointed directions to 60,000-odd attendees.

Yet, Azerbaijan’s identity as the “land of fire” was hard to ignore. Its oil legacy spans centuries and remains a point of national pride, marked by the world’s first industrially drilled oil well, located a short drive from the summit venue. This uneasy backdrop was reinforced during a visit to one of the nation’s top tourist attractions, Yanar Dagh, or “burning mountain”, where natural gas seeping from the earth fuels “eternal” flames. This phenomenon is tied to Zoroastrianism, an ancient religion born in the region more than 3000 years ago. In some parts of the country, locals bathe in crude oil, believed to have medicinal benefits.

Yanar Dagh, a natural gas fire which blazes continuously on a hillside on the Absheron Peninsula on the Caspian Sea near Baku (Dominika Zarzycka/NurPhoto via Getty Images)

It didn’t take long for the issue of fossil fuels to come to the fore in the negotiations. At the opening of COP29, President Aliyev controversially described oil and gas as a “gift of god” – a sentence that echoed across the two weeks. Saudi Arabia, supported by other major oil producers, later brazenly called for the deletion of any reference to COP28’s landmark commitment to “transition away from fossil fuels”. And when this phrase was ultimately dropped from the final text, many looked askance at COP29 President Mukhtar Babayev, himself a former executive of state oil giant SOCAR.

As negotiations dragged into overtime, the low ambition rankled vulnerable island states (who at one stage walked out) and concerned developed countries alike. As of Friday, as exhausted delegates departed, a handful of die-hards talked tough over dollar figures, blame, and the moral high ground.

Meanwhile, those flying home, conscious of their own carbon emissions from attending this disappointing fortnight, could look down at the Caspian Sea and see oil rigs busily pumping far below, small islands of light punctuating the darkness.

About the authors

Ryan Neelam

Ryan Neelam was Director of the Public Opinion and Foreign Policy Program at the Lowy Institute. He led the flagship annual Lowy Institute Poll, was project director for the Global Diplomacy Index, and wrote about climate diplomacy and multilateral policy.

Georgia Hammersley

Georgia Hammersley was a Research Associate in the Lowy Institute’s Indo-Pacific Development Centre .

Melanie Pill

Dr Melanie Pill was a Research Fellow in the Lowy Institute’s Indo-Pacific Development Centre where she was responsible for progressing the Centre's work on climate change.

Topics

Climate & environment