Across the sprawling landscapes of Turtle Island, from the western mountains through central prairies, over eastern woodlands, to the northern boreal and tundra, the land carries memory. It speaks through ancient fires, through the whispers of returning smoke, through the cycles of regeneration and loss. Fire is not merely a destructive force but a living relative with agency, voice, and purpose embedded in the land’s sacred balance.
Fire as a Living Relative and Teacher
In Indigenous worldviews across Canada, whether among the Coast Salish, Anishinaabe, Cree, Dene, Mi’kmaq, Inuit, or Métis, fire is understood as more than heat and flame. Fire is a relative: a powerful presence that teaches and transforms. Fire holds knowledge about when and where to flow, how to clear away the old and invite new life, and when to retreat to allow healing. It is a force that must be listened to, respected, and lived with, not tamed or feared.
The land itself contains this fire knowledge, its patterns and rhythms, held not only in the soil and trees but also in the pulse of the more-than-human relations that weave together plants, animals, insects, and waters. These relationships have been cultivated through generations of ceremony, stewardship, and attentive listening.
The Memory of Fires Past: Lessons Written in the Land
For millennia, Indigenous peoples have carried the memories of fire’s many faces: the gentle burns that nurtured wild berries and medicines, the larger fires that shaped forests and grasslands, and the fires that carried warnings and renewal. These memories are more than history; they are living teachings embedded in stories, songs, and place. They remind us how fire once danced in balance with water, wind, and seasons, fostering abundance and diversity.
The land’s hold on this memory reveals how fire traditionally cleared away invasive undergrowth, opened habitats, cycled nutrients, and created mosaic landscapes vital for wildlife. Indigenous fire stewardship was respectful and purposeful, marked by precision, ceremony, and an understanding of fire’s role as a caretaker.
The Changing Land: Fire’s Agency Amidst Drought and Climate Change
Today, this sacred balance is strained as climate change stirs new challenges. Prolonged drought and rising temperatures dry the land beyond its natural resilience. Fire’s agency, once harmonized with the earth’s rhythms, now pulses with growing intensity and unpredictability. Wildfires rage more frequently, far beyond the historical rhythms of many regions, threatening the very life-systems they once helped sustain.
In western forests, ancient conifer refugia for caribou and lynx face pervasive mortality. In central prairies, grasses and wildflowers fail to recover, leaving soil exposed. Eastern woodlands lose their understory of medicinal plants and berries, which are relied upon by birds and smaller mammals. Northern boreal and tundra zones are suffering from the collapse of delicate lichen beds and shrinking habitats for migratory birds.
All the while, fire continues to assert its agency, challenging all beings to remember and adapt.
Honouring Fire Knowledge: Stewarding Indigenous Wisdom for the Land and All Life
To walk respectfully with fire in this changing world demands more than technology or control; it demands honouring Indigenous fire knowledge systems, which see fire as a living relation, as part of the land’s voice.
Non-Indigenous peoples and institutions must listen deeply to this wisdom. Stewardship means recognizing the fire’s spiritual, ecological, and cultural roles as encoded in Indigenous laws, ceremonies, and practices, which are calibrated to the land’s signals and cycles. It means supporting Indigenous leadership with sovereignty over how landscapes are cared for and how fire is welcomed, guided, or restrained.
This stewardship involves:
Recognizing the land’s agency, learning from the land where fire is needed and where it is invited to restore life, not simply extinguished as a threat.
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- Integrating Indigenous fire timing and techniques, such as controlled or “cool” burns guided by ecological indicators and spiritual guidance, which have been practiced for thousands of years.
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- Respecting the relational web that includes plants, animals, fungi, and waters as kin with roles in fire’s unfolding.
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- Bridging knowledge systems where Indigenous knowledge co-creates with scientific understanding, enhancing fire forecasting, monitoring, and response rooted in ecological respect.
Fire as a Call to Renew Kinship and Balance
As drought and dry conditions intensify, the urgency of honouring fire’s role becomes increasingly apparent. Fire teaches humility the lesson that we are part of the land’s family, not masters of it. The fate of biodiversity, including berries, pollinators, game, medicinal plants, soil microbes, and waters, echoes the health of the balance of fire.
In listening to fire’s voice, remembering its cycles, and walking with Indigenous stewardship, humans reclaim responsibility. Fire need not be a force of devastation alone but can become a renewing presence that heals scars, encourages diversity, and sustains future generations of life.
This is not only a strategy for wildfire management, but a sacred path forward, one where agency, memory, and respect guide us toward living in a reciprocal relationship with the land, honouring fire’s place as a vital and sacred relative.
Blog by Rye Karonhiowanen Barberstock
(Image Credit: Jan Kopřiva, Unsplash)
The post When the Land Speaks Through Fire: Indigenous Wisdom, Memory, and Stewardship of the Living Landscape appeared first on Indigenous Climate Hub.
Climate Change
Island nations fight to save cultural heritage from climate change
Farmers and fishermen in the Maldives have long relied on an ancient calendar to guide their daily lives.
The Nakaiy system divides the year into 27 distinct periods, each named after a star or constellation in the night sky.
Any one period in the calendar tells you about expected weather and tidal patterns, navigational routes, and fishing conditions. The Nakaiy was created through centuries of careful observation and local knowledge, passed down through families as an essential tool for survival.
But things are now changing. The climate crisis is leading to more extreme weather events across the Indian Ocean island nation and upending the Nakaiy calendar.
“When you go and speak to communities and ask them what kind of impacts they are facing, a lot of elders will tell you that the weather, it doesn’t follow the calendar anymore,” explained Aishath Reesha Suhail, a programme officer in the Maldives’ Ministry of Tourism and Environment.
As the effects of climate change worsen, it is a real prospect that the Nakaiy may be abandoned by local people, representing a major cultural loss to the Maldives.
‘Systemic and growing threat’
With extreme weather becoming the norm, communities are observing a domino effect of consequences in their everyday lives. The slow onset of heritage loss is now being seen across continents, but notably among small islands in remote parts of the ocean.
“Climate change represents a systemic and growing threat to cultural heritage worldwide,” a UNESCO spokesperson told Climate Home, adding that the World Heritage Committee has identified climate change as “one of the most significant long-term risks affecting properties across all regions.”
UNESCO, the UN body for education, science and culture, defines the loss of cultural heritage as “the erosion of traditional knowledge systems, craftsmanship, social practices and identity, particularly where communities are displaced or livelihoods disrupted”. A clear example is historical sites and even entire islands washed into the ocean as a result of rising sea levels and coastal erosion.
The Maldives is dealing with such a situation now. The Koagannu Cemetery is a 900-year-old resting place, located on the country’s southernmost atoll, a mere 50 metres from the shoreline. The monument’s intricate coral gravestones are being actively threatened by the encroaching Indian Ocean.
The government and local community have responded to this challenge with emergency protection measures. Sandbags and concrete structures have been installed along the coastline, complemented by large numbers of palm trees to create a seawall. A wider solution is ‘beach nourishment’, a common practice in the Maldives where sand from elsewhere is brought in to replace what has been lost through erosion. Taken together, these solutions have so far protected the cemetery.
Among the many issues climate change creates, cultural heritage is not always front of mind. In the Maldives, one of the main barriers people face is awareness. “Most of what we are dealing with relates to the erosion of our islands along with areas such as fisheries… but we are quite limited in our capacity to do something about it,“ Suhail said.
“We don’t understand the full breadth of the issue at present because we haven’t been able to do extensive research on the matter,” she added. However, assessing the extent of the damage – and how to respond effectively – is a key priority for the government, outlined in its latest climate plan, known as a Nationally Determined Contribution, and as part of its National Adaptation Plan process.
Fishing is at the core of the country’s culture and identity, employing thousands of people. Most dishes include fish – “we have it for breakfast, lunch and dinner,” Suhail noted – but the climate crisis and overfishing are shifting how and when communities can fish. Tuna makes up 98% of all fish caught in the Maldives, but warmer ocean temperatures are changing migratory patterns, pushing the species into deeper, colder waters.
As a critical economic and cultural resource, the government has outlined a range of solutions to protect the fisheries sector in its first Biennial Transparency Report to the UN. These include using real-time tracking data to improve the efficiency of fishing operations; investing in canneries to increase fish storage; and diversifying away from tuna through marine farming.


Culture and nature go hand-in-hand
The same pattern is playing out elsewhere.
Palau and the Maldives are not close to one another. The two states are separated by around 4,000 miles and sit in different corners of the ocean. But both are experiencing very similar climate challenges, based on their position as a set of scattered, low-lying islands surrounded by an imposing body of blue water.
In the same way as the Maldives, Palau’s cultural heritage is closely tied to “land, coastlines and traditional food systems,” according to Toni Soalabla, at the Palau Office of Climate Change.
“Many of the places that hold stories, history and identity of our communities are located along the coast and are increasingly exposed to erosion and sea level rise,” she said.
One of these places is Ngerutechei village, reportedly the oldest in Palau, and home to ancient stone paths and carvings. The village provides a glimpse into the past social values and culture of the people in this western Pacific nation.
As part of the development of Palau’s National Adaptation Plan, the government has worked with local leaders to identify similar sites of cultural significance. The plan encourages communities to use their own knowledge to create protective measures for these sites.
Climate change is also prompting communities to take up traditional land and food practices again. These include cultivating taro, a stable food source that has historically supported water, soil and food security on the islands.
“These systems developed over generations in response to local environmental conditions, so strengthening them today is both a climate adaptation measure and a way of maintaining cultural knowledge that might otherwise fade,” said Soalabla.
Cultural practices in Palau have developed alongside the natural ecosystems that people rely on to survive. It is within this context that researchers believe adaptation policies should be created. Recognising this relationship “can strengthen both community identity and environmental resilience at the same time”, according to Soalabla.




Heritage on the global stage
The issue of cultural loss has not gone unnoticed in international climate negotiations.
Small island states such as the Maldives have used their role at the UN to push for greater awareness and action, with some key successes.
In 2015, the Paris Agreement established a Global Goal on Adaptation (GGA) which recognised that countries needed to do something about climate change now and not later. However, it took six years before a framework and a set of adaptation targets were agreed at the UN climate summit in Glasgow to pursue this goal.
From this came the establishment of seven overall themes – from poverty eradication to access to health – to guide adaptation action and a set of around 60 indicators to measure progress against the targets.
World leaders invited to see Pacific climate destruction before COP31
Emilie Beauchamp, an adaptation specialist at the International Institute for Sustainable Development (IISD), said that “cultural heritage was highlighted as one of the global priorities [of the GGA Framework] and is one of the seven themes, so it is considered very important by the international community.”
The much-debated set of indicators, only finalised in Belém at last year’s COP30, include five related to cultural heritage with a focus on preserving cultural practices and important sites that are “guided by traditional knowledge, Indigenous Peoples’ knowledge and local knowledge systems”. A spokesperson for UNESCO said the inclusion of heritage indicators “marks an important recognition that climate impacts extend beyond economic losses”.
While critics said the set of final indicators was rushed through by the Brazilian presidency, they now serve as guidance for national governments that wish to implement plans to protect their common heritage. The missing piece of the puzzle remains how to finance these plans – something notably absent from the Belém text, which made clear that the adaptation indicators “do not create new financial obligations or commitments, nor liability or compensation”.
The lack of financial commitments proved disappointing for many small states grappling with how to prevent their cultural history from being entirely forgotten, especially at a time when adaptation finance remains below requirements. A recent UNEP report found that developing nations would need an estimated US$310 billion per year in 2035 to adapt to climate change, while current public financing was around $26 billion.
At these low levels “only a small percentage of what the framework outlines could be implemented,” according to Beauchamp.


The challenge of cultural heritage
When looking at low-lying islands on a map, they can appear as specks of land amid a vast ocean. Many of the stories from these remote places go unnoticed. But the specks represent millennia of human culture that is slowly being lost to the ocean.
While the international community has now recognised the problem and solutions exist, the recurring issue of scarce finance may prevent governments from taking sustained action. Island communities have already been forced to move home as sea levels rise, leaving behind their cultural connections to a place.
The value of any cultural asset, or of human heritage, can be judged by how it is engaged with over generations. Without human intervention, many historical sites, language, cuisine and other local customs would become a forgotten part of history. The rapid onset of climate change brings the role of cultural heritage into sharp relief, challenging communities to decide in real time what they value, what deserves saving, and how to achieve that.
Stories of cultural loss are not confined to small islands but it is here where the challenge is presenting most acutely. The experiences of these vulnerable nations in protecting their heritage will provide the litmus test for effective adaptation responses elsewhere.
Adam Wentworth is a freelance writer based in Brighton, UK.
(Main image: The Isdhoo Havitha is an ancient Buddhist monastery in the Maldives, located moments from the shoreline. Photo: Ashwa Faheem)
The post Island nations fight to save cultural heritage from climate change appeared first on Climate Home News.
Island nations fight to save cultural heritage from climate change
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