The BBC has uncovered a jaw-dropping irony in Brazil’s preparations for the COP30 climate summit, set for November 2025 in Belém: a four-lane highway, Avenida Liberdade, is being bulldozed through tens of thousands of acres of protected Amazon rainforest. Touted as a traffic solution for the 50,000 world leaders and delegates expected to attend, this project drips with hypocrisy, exposing the gaping chasm between the climate summit’s green rhetoric and its deforestation reality. While global elites preach carbon cuts and sustainability, the Amazon—Earth’s mightiest carbon sink and biodiversity stronghold—is being felled to roll out the red carpet for their virtue-signaling parade.

The state government of Pará slaps a “sustainable” label on this 13-kilometer (8-mile) scar through the jungle, complete with promised wildlife crossings, bike lanes, and solar lighting. Infrastructure Secretary Adler Silveira calls it an “important mobility intervention” to modernize Belém and leave a “legacy” for COP30. But the reality on the ground tells a different story. Where lush rainforest once stood, logs now pile high as diggers pave over wetlands, slicing protected forest into fragmented patches. For locals like Claudio Verequete, who lives 200 meters from the carnage, it’s a personal betrayal. His açai berry harvest—his family’s livelihood—has been reduced to rubble. “Everything was destroyed,” he told the BBC. “We no longer have that income to support our family.” No compensation, no benefits—just a walled-off highway built for trucks and summit VIPs, not the people it displaces.

This isn’t just an environmental travesty; it’s a masterclass in greenwashing. The Brazilian president and environment minister have grandly declared COP30 “a COP in the Amazon, not a COP about the Amazon,” as if hosting it in the rainforest’s backyard absolves the sin of slashing it down. They’ll jet in thousands of delegates, build hotels, expand airports with an $81 million federal splurge, and redevelop ports for cruise ships—all while posing as saviors of the planet. Meanwhile, the road’s ecological toll is glaring: fragmented habitats, disrupted wildlife, and a shrinking wild where vets like Professor Silvia Sardinha struggle to release rehabilitated animals. “Land animals will no longer be able to cross to the other side,” she warned, underscoring the summit’s hollow promises.

The hypocrisy deepens when you consider Avenida Liberdade’s history. Shelved since 2012 due to environmental outcry, it was resurrected only when the prestige of COP30 dangled a chance to signal virtue on the world stage. Scientists decry the loss of biodiversity, locals lament their erased livelihoods, and yet the state presses on, cloaking destruction in buzzwords. Some market vendors, like Dalci Cardoso da Silva, buy the spin, hoping tourist dollars will trickle down. But others, like Verequete, see the grim future: a gateway to more deforestation, where gas stations and warehouses could soon replace what’s left of their homes—all while summit attendees sip cocktails and pat themselves on the back.

The COP30 spectacle reeks of performative environmentalism. Flying in global leaders to lament climate change while razing the Amazon for their convenience isn’t a solution—it’s a farce. As Sardinha put it, the high-level talks will hum along “among business people and government officials,” while those living the Amazon’s reality are silenced. This highway isn’t a legacy of progress; it’s a paved monument to the disconnect between climate grandstanding and the dirty work done in its name. If this is the road to a supposedly greener future, it’s one built on hypocrisy’s shaky foundation.

H/T strativarius and John C