When discussions revolve around nature, terms such as ‘sustainability’, ‘biodiversity’, and ‘conservation’ commonly dominate the conversation. Rarely is ‘peace’ mentioned in this context. Even rarer is the acknowledgement of nature within conversations explicitly focused on peace. In an era when awareness about the severity of climate change has finally permeated mainstream consciousness, conflicts with the potential to escalate into global warfare, such as the ongoing Ukraine-Russia war, have concurrently resurfaced. Such conflicts fracture global unity and disrupt collective progress, making cooperation in other critical areas considerably more difficult. In light of this, bringing ecological perspectives into conversations about peace is both strategically wise and increasingly necessary.
It is one of the more curious ironies of our age that institutions ostensibly tasked with securing people and their futures expend vast resources ensuring that they may not exist. Global military activities are estimated to account for approximately 5.5% of total greenhouse gas emissions. If aggregated as a single entity, the world’s armed forces would constitute the fourth-largest emitter globally.
The Russia-Ukraine war provides a compelling example. According to the third interim assessment by the Initiative on Greenhouse Gas Accounting of War (IGGAW), an association of climate experts focused on understanding the climate impact of armed conflicts, the first eighteen months of the conflict generated roughly 150 million metric tonnes of CO₂ equivalent. For context, that figure exceeds the total annual emissions of Belgium. This number merely represents atmospheric damage. Other events reveal the far-reaching environmental consequences that unfold alongside geopolitical conflicts, such as the June 2023 destruction of the Nova Kakhovka dam, which triggered catastrophic flooding, displaced tens of thousands of people, and ravaged regional ecosystems.
Earlier this month, Russia and Ukraine reached a US-brokered agreement to cease attacks on each other’s energy infrastructure, including oil refineries, pipelines, and power plants. Though fragile and subject to violations, it shows that adversaries can find common ground to protect critical resources. If we can achieve such cooperation for energy assets, it would be logical to extend this consideration to broader environmental protections. Integrating environmental safeguards into peace negotiations may make it easier to reach an agreement and can build trust for more enduring resolutions.
Despite the undeniable environmental damage wrought by conflict, international criminal law has historically paid minimal attention to the protection of the natural environment. The singular mention of ‘environment’ under the Rome Statute under Article 8(2)(b)(iv) is a war crime provision that specifically addresses environmental damage only when it is “widespread, long-term, and severe” and “clearly excessive” relative to anticipated military advantage. These terms remain undefined, and this ambiguity is compounded by the provision’s proportionality test, a standard that is both subjective and retrospective, making accountability nearly impossible. The absence of any charges brought under this provision stresses the need for clearer standards if the international community intends to hold perpetrators truly accountable for environmental harm. In response, a growing global movement is pushing for the recognition of ‘ecocide’ as an international crime, alongside genocide and crimes against humanity, to end the ongoing war against nature.
In a recent interview with Lex Fridman, Prime Minister Narendra Modi brought nature into the discussion on war and peace, stating, “We seek neither to wage war against nature nor to foster strife among nations. We stand for peace, and wherever we can act as peacemakers, we have gladly embraced that responsibility.” The comment stood out precisely because the mention of “war against nature” was an inclusion to an answer that could have functioned without it. World leaders rarely include nature in such contexts unless prompted, and when they do, it is often as an afterthought or some rhetorical embellishment, typically reserved for environmental summits such as the Conference of the Parties (COP).
Wars evoke intense emotions, and parties have rushed to take sides. Yet, India has managed to set an example through its restraint and its role as a potential interlocutor. Even a seasoned diplomat and member of parliament from the opposition, Shashi Tharoor, who initially criticized India’s rather neutral position on the matter, praised PM Modi’s approach and called him “a Prime Minister who can hug both Putin and Zelenskyy.” In the interview with Fridman, PM Modi clarified India’s position on Russia-Ukraine, “I have always maintained that I stand with peace. I am not neutral. I have a stance, and that is peace.” The success of this approach serves as an example of what parties outside a war can actually do to de-escalate it, protect common interests, and promote rapprochement.
Prime Minister Modi at COP28 in Dubai proposed India as the host for COP33. Perhaps it is time for the world to gather in India, to go beyond setting environmental targets, and to take back with it the philosophical and cultural foundations that have shaped India’s unique environmental ethos. The ancient Indian philosophy of Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam, meaning ‘the world is one family’, was chosen as the theme of India’s G20 presidency and continues to inform its multilateralism and diplomacy. India’s pioneering Rights of Nature movement, which advocates for legal recognition of the intrinsic rights of rivers and forests, challenges entrenched anthropocentric norms. Initiatives like Mission LiFE (Lifestyle for Environment) promote sustainable living as a civic ethos, aligning daily choices with ecological responsibility. Likewise, India’s global leadership in promoting yoga as a practice of inner peace, balance, and self-restraint reflects a broader cultural logic where harmony with nature is inseparable from peace within and peace between communities. Drawing on centuries of cultural practice, these ideas offer alternative pathways that modern frameworks have often overlooked.
Similarly, the International Solar Alliance (ISA) provides benefits far beyond promoting solar energy; it cultivates cooperation, reduces energy-driven rivalries, and champions initiatives such as “One World, One Grid” that defy traditional zero-sum thinking.
Our current realities compel us to rethink how we pursue peace and what it truly entails. It is not merely the end of war but the creation of conditions in which both humanity and the natural world can thrive together. This broader vision demands that we move beyond reactive diplomacy and embrace ‘harmony with nature’ as a quiet revolution in how we understand security, cooperation, and global responsibility. If we are to build a future where peace endures, it must begin not only between nations, but also with the Earth we share.
The views and opinions expressed here belong solely to the author and do not reflect the views of BlueKraft Digital Foundation.
