- Since 2003, Indigenous organizations have been calling for the establishment of Yavarí Mirim, an extensive reserve for hundreds of isolated Indigenous people in the Peruvian Amazon.
- The reserve is heavily disputed by extractive industries for its logging and oil and gas drilling potential.
- Experts are concerned that a recent delay will endanger Indigenous groups, as their territory is increasingly encroached on by loggers and illegal drug traffickers.
In 2003, Indigenous organizations petitioned the Peruvian government to create Yavarí Mirim, an Indigenous reserve on the Amazon border with Brazil and Colombia, spanning 1 million hectares (2.5 million acres), according to sources interviewed by Mongabay. Their goal was to protect hundreds of Indigenous peoples in the region who had little to no contact with the outside world. Extractive and illegal activities were advancing into their territory, and time was of the essence.
More than 20 years later, the reserve has yet to be created.
In the latest setback, the country’s Multi-Sector Commission postponed indefinitely a Feb. 14 meeting scheduled to determine reserve boundaries. The commission, led by the country’s Ministry of Culture, is responsible for establishing the territories of Indigenous Peoples in Voluntary Isolation and Initial Contact, known by its Spanish acronym PIACI. The commission justified the delay, saying it had realized the requested area overlapped with another Native community.
Pablo Chota Ruiz, secretary of Organization of Indigenous Peoples of the Eastern Amazon (ORPIO), the Indigenous organization leading the petition for Yavarí Mirim, questioned the commission’s reasoning. “They are looking for any excuse to call off this reserve,” he told Mongabay. “There is indeed another community wanting to expand their territory in the same area, but that request hasn’t even been processed, which means it should not be considered an obstacle.”
Ruiz, a member of the Yagua Indigenous group located near the isolated tribes, said he believes other motives are at play. “There are big interests from big businesses in this region,” he said. “There’s potential for logging, oil exploration and gold mining. These extractive industries don’t want an Indigenous reserve on this land; they want concessions for their own benefit.”
In 2018, anthropological studies led to a federal decree officially recognizing the existence of isolated groups in the area, including the Matsés, Matis, Korubo and Kulina-Pano and Flecheiro (Takavina). However, only a legally designated territory would effectively keep outsiders away, ensuring the groups’ isolation. Once the reserve is established, the Peruvian government has 60 days to develop a plan for its protection, including security checkpoints and border monitoring.
In the last few weeks, ORPIO and supporting organizations have launched an intensive campaign to push for the demarcation. They have held meetings with the environment ministry, interior ministry and members of Congress and even secured a one-on-one discussion with Vice Minister of Interculturality Julio Jaén Rodríguez. They have also sought support from the Norwegian government, which has long backed environmental and Indigenous causes in the country.
“They have all told us they are working to resolve this latest setback,” Ruiz said. “But we need a solution now. We cannot wait any longer for the sake of our isolated brothers.” The Ministry of Culture and the agencies’ Multi-Sector Commission did not respond to Mongabay’s request for comment.
Pressure from extractive industries
Mere days after the postponement, forestry entities held an extraordinary assembly of the regional forestry board of the department of Loreto to discuss the issue. At the meeting, they drafted a letter to the commission expressing their opposition to the Yavarí Mirim reserve, adding to the negative momentum. These organizations represent hundreds of small and medium-sized logging companies with active timber concessions in the same area.
Among the signees was Betsabeth Cortegano Chota, president of Peru’s National Forestry Confederation (known as CONAFOR by its Spanish acronym), who told Mongabay that timber loggers are not against isolated communities, but they contest the process of defining Yavarí Mirim’s size and location. They particularly challenge the findings of anthropological studies, which served as the backbone for the reserve proposal.
“They forgot that in this area, there are forestry concessions that were awarded through public bidding long before the government considered creating a reserve,” she said. “We believe there’s a violation of concessionaires’ rights who have acquired legal permission to work in this region, and that is generating some conflict,” she said.
Forestry companies stand to lose the most if the Yavarí Mirim reserve is confirmed. According to a recent Earth Insight report, more than 1 million hectares of logging concessions overlap PIACI reserves in Peru. In 2022, a court ruling extinguished 72 concessions granted by the regional government of Loreto because they were located inside new and upcoming reserves. In 2024, another handful of concessions were pulled from public bidding after they had been announced.
Environmental lawyer César A. Ipenza suspects that other industries could be working behind closed doors to postpone the reserve. “Especially the oil and gas sector,” said Ipenza, who has consulted for the Peruvian government and environmental nonprofits. “There’s a big expectation within the government that there are rich wells in the Amazon that have not yet been explored.”
In 2023, the Ministry of Energy and Mines and Perupetro, the state agency for regulating oil and gas exploration, sought to modify the national Law on Protected Natural Areas to allow drilling in environmental and Indigenous reserves. While the effort has not yet come to fruition, Perupetro has increasingly advertised that these areas have a high and untapped potential for oil and gas extraction.
The agency maintains a webpage dedicated to potential investors that features a map of Peru’s sedimentary basins. The entire region of Loreto is highlighted, including the area requested for the Yavarí Mirim reserve. The map description states, in capital letters, that these regions have been little explored and hold a high prospective potential.
It’s not the first time that Perupetro has pushed for drilling near protected areas. In 2023, the agency identified 31 priority sites for oil and gas development, threatening 435 Indigenous communities. One of these concessions would encroach on the Amarakaeri Communal Reserve, an Indigenous territory in the Madre de Dios region covering more than 400,000 hectares (988,000 acres). The site also borders the territory of the Mashco Piro peoples, who are in voluntary isolation.
Ipenza sees these advances as part of a broader movement against Indigenous rights in lieu of extractive industries. In 2024, the political party Fuerza Popular in Loreto proposed a bill seeking to suspend official recognition of isolated Indigenous peoples, who number around 7,500, according to the Peruvian Ministry of Culture. “We’ve had a Supreme Court judge, regional government leaders, and Congress members publicly state PIACI don’t even exist,” he said. “It will be an uphill battle to prevent these groups from disappearing.”
The Ministry of Energy and Mines and Perupetro did not respond to Mongabay’s requests for comment.
Hundreds of isolated peoples in danger
Indigenous communities have been in the Peruvian Amazon for thousands of years, but around the 20th century, some groups chose to completely cut contact with the rest of humanity. At the time, a surge of immigrant workers flooded the forest to extract latex from rubber trees, which was in high demand. The consequences for Indigenous communities were devastating.
“They were captured for forced labor, exposed to deadly diseases and subjected to extreme violence,” said Beatriz Huertas, an anthropologist and policy adviser at Rainforest Foundation Norway. “To survive, some groups had no choice but to retreat into the most remote corners of the forest.”
Today, these isolated communities remain in the region. They are hunters and gatherers who cross long distances in search of food. “This is why they need an extensive territory,” she told Mongabay. “The resources in the forest are dispersed, and they travel to find what they need. It’s a different way of living than sedentary communities.”
Peruvian law strictly forbids contacting these tribes; even researchers are not allowed to approach them. However, there have been unintended meetings with loggers, missionaries and criminal organizations engaged in wildlife and drug trafficking. Huertas said they run away from these encounters, but without an officially designated reserve, these meetings are only going to increase.
“There’s been a surge in what we call ‘ghost communities’ — settlements made up of loggers and criminal organizations seeking land to cultivate and process coca,” she said. “If the reserve is not established and protected right now, the future of these communities is deeply uncertain.”
Banner image: Legal and illegal logging, as well as drug operations continue to take place in the area of the Yavarí Mirim reserve. Image courtesy of ORPIO.
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