Why was religion so embedded in COP29? Kristian Noll explains some of the recent entanglements between the rhetoric of religion and climate, and what opportunities this could bring.

To many, the connection between religion and climate change might not be immediately obvious. I would encourage anyone of this mindset to consider COP29, hosted this year in Baku, Azerbaijan.
Dubbed the ‘finance’ COP, this year’s proceedings were intended to create a new annual international climate finance target, operationalise the ‘Loss and Damage’ fund agreed to at COP28 in Dubai, and strengthen national climate and transparency commitments. The outcomes of the conference – a climate finance agreement of ‘at least’ $300 billion annually by 2035 and an agreement on standards for a centralised carbon market – might appear to have little to do with religion. Yet, if we look beyond the immediate political outputs of – and reactions to – the conference, we can identify a profound rhetorical shift that is a testament to the increasing centrality of faith in international climate diplomacy.
Embedded religiosity was evident on the second day the conference when the President of Azerbaijan, Ilham Aliyev, invoked the divine in addressing COP29 delegates during his opening remarks: ‘I want to repeat it here today: [every natural resource] is a gift from God…countries should not be blamed for having them and should not be blamed for bringing these resources to the market.’ This ostensible defence of fossil fuel extraction received widespread media attention and provoked criticism from high-ranking officials, including the UN Secretary General António Guterres. Nevertheless, invoking God to justify continued fossil fuel use is a notable challenge to a policy arena largely reliant on scientific and political counterarguments.
This seems to have been recognised by critics of this position, who have sought to elevate the rhetoric of climate policy to a discourse beyond the economic and the geopolitical. Islamic Relief UK, for instance, dubbed COP29 a ‘colossal moral failure,’ while an editorial from the Guardian also referenced morality, accusing wealthy nations of dodging their ‘moral’ obligations in the proceedings. In invoking morality, the climate crisis becomes more than a political question; we are compelled to consider not only what is happening but also how communities are making sense of and responding to the changes occurring. This is a worthwhile mission, but attempting to do so without consideration for religion will fail for three reasons.
Firstly, faith can serve as a counterbalance to the politicisation of the climate crisis. Although there does exist a connection between religiosity and climate scepticism, data by the Public Religion Research Institute suggests that this correlation is not a result of deeply-held ideological (or indeed theological) convictions, but rather of politics. In fact, while only 31% of white evangelical Protestants in the United States believe climate change is caused by humans, 80% of these individuals believe taking care of the earth as stewards is ‘extremely/very important.’ This would suggest that bringing these moral and ethical perspectives into the heart of climate discussions through the language of stewardship and faith could provide a much-needed counterpoint to the proclamations of Aliyev, and indeed others who espouse similar beliefs.
Secondly, faith touches the hearts of individuals and sows seeds of hope. As our research at LSE Religion and Global Society has demonstrated, a climate rhetoric rooted in faith provides a welcome shift from the political discussions often defined by uncertainty and pessimism.
Thirdly, insofar as climate change is a crisis which requires a large-scale, multi-sector response, effective mobilisation is critical. This is a task religious organisations are well-positioned to handle. On one hand, faith-based organisations (FBOs) have the capacity to provide material and financial support to mitigation and adaptation efforts globally, especially as the one of the largest investment blocs globally. The fact that FBOs manage around 10% of global financial investments is particularly important to note in the wake of COP29, as nations will now seek to mobilise the $300 billion in climate finance agreed to in Baku.
Beyond material assets, faith-based and religious institutions also have the potential to unite sectors and individuals in ways that other fora cannot; they manage over 50% of schools worldwide, 14% of community development corporations, and deliver healthcare services across the globe – all examples of multi-sector spaces. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, religious institutions often enjoy greater levels of trust than political entities – a critical ingredient in building stakeholder engagement and consensus.
Fortunately, we don’t have to start from scratch; the language of faith is already positively embedded in efforts to advance environmental sustainability and climate justice. In Azerbaijan, these voices were represented at the Faith Pavilion, where over the course of the two weeks, more than 100 FBOs facilitated workshops, panel discussions, and keynotes highlighting the vital contributions of faith-based bodies to the proceedings in Baku. But clearly more needs to be done.
I would not dare to suggest that bringing religion into the climate discussion will necessarily solve the climate challenges we face. However, given the urgency of the climate crisis, an ostensible global electoral backlash against climate policies, the clear need to transform our methods of engagement with climate justice, and the prominence of faith-based rhetoric at COP29, now is an opportune time to chart a new path forward, one rooted in something other than geopolitical institutions and economic paradigms. Religion – which speaks to well over 80% of the global population – can be a powerful point of entry for these vital discussions and, in time, will hopefully restore faith in our collective ability to enact change.
Photo by Matthew TenBruggencate
Note: This article gives the views of the author, not the position of LSE Religion and Global Society nor the London School of Economics and Political Science.
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