by Robin Okumu
We know that language and the way we speak matter. Words hold power to name and make visible, to include or exclude. Since the COP29 conference is largely composed of words (in speeches, discussions, written decisions, and negotiations over terms), it is a prime opportunity to showcase the inclusive power of language. Or, on the flip side, it’s a chance to whittle down language for the sake of agreement, until all that’s left is a vague, bare minimum that rings of performative obligation rather than real commitment.
During these two weeks at COP29, we’ve learned a head-spinning amount of acronyms, topic-specific terms, and key phrases. One that struck me when I initially read it and has since stuck with me is the gender-related phrase, “in all their diversity.” I first read this in the Nov. 16 proposed draft text on “Gender and Climate Change.” The phrase appears four times in the draft text [in brackets] meaning that it’s new and negotiable. It always acts as a modifier for other phrases. For example (my emphasis is in bold):
“Recognizing with concern that climate change impacts on [all] women and men [, and girls and boys] [in all their diversity]…
22. Recognizes that [all] men and boys [and [all] women and girls] [in all their diversity] are agents and beneficiaries of change and strategic partners and allies in achieving gender equality [and the empowerment of all women and girls [in all their diversity] in the context of climate change;”
At first, I didn’t fully grasp the radical nature of this phrase (at least where such a formal UN document is concerned). Then suddenly, it seemed to be everywhere gender was concerned. I heard it mentioned in informal interviews posted to social media, and passionately declared like a battle cry by activist groups in press conferences. As I saw the phrase repeated in written statements and news briefs from groups like the Women and Gender Constituency and UN Women, I began to understand its potential. These four words really do contain multitudes. “In”signals an acknowledgement of existential positionality, where humans exist in and withina nexus of identities. “All”flings wide identitarian boundaries to include everyone. “Their”marks possession, meaning that this multifaceted state of being belongs to the people who embody and experience it as an integral part of their being. Finally, “diversity”carves out space where difference and multiplicity can coexist. Four words that contain multitudes.
This wasn’t the only phrase that circulated, of course. The draft document also contained notable [bracketed and thus far never before included in a UN gender document] mentions of “intersectional”and its related forms, “intersectionality” and “intersecting identities”; there was a marked emphasis on “human rights” and “the rights of Indigenous peoples,” along with truly exciting language addressing race, specific and accountable financing for gender, gender-based violence and misogyny, women’s right to education and land ownership, “gender-responsive” climate strategies, and the use of “equity” in addition to equality. All of these terms sparkled in the draft document like tiny dots of diamond lodged in otherwise gray rock. They reflected the light of progress and the hope for a future where humankind could truly treat all its peoples with dignity.
The revised draft of this document came out on Thursday morning. My initial reaction (which, I think it’s safe to say, was the reaction of many gender advocates), was one of breathless, visceral disappointment. It was an overwhelming sense of loss and erasure. One speaker in a morning press conference used the terms “backsliding” and “retro-aggressive attacks on gender.” There was an almost immediate, seismic shift in tone from “progress” and “potential” to “holding the line” and “not going back.” In the revised draft, every instance of “in all their diversity” is gone. All mention of “intersectional” is gone. And all talk of race, sex, misogyny, and accountability is left out. The revised draft is significantly shorter, but it’s no wonder as most of the bracketed paragraphs and near-entire pages were left out. At first read, the text seemed thoroughly gutted, no more now than a skeleton. I sat at my desk in the wee hours of the morning and wept for the disappearance of “diversity” and “intersectionality.”
So where does this leave us? Well, there are some important points to remember. Firstly, this is not the final version of the document, and there will be one more. We can hope and pray that stronger language makes its way back in. Secondly, we must not lose sight of the forest for the trees. The Nov. 16 draft document was only a proposal, and while it contained so much that was truly exciting, it was all just suggestion. The real comparison is with the previous, accepted version from last year’s COP28 from fall 2023. When we compare the 2023 document with the Nov. 21 version, we do see improvement and we must hold onto it.
The 2023 document is barely one page long and very procedural. There are no mentions of Indigenous peoples, men and boys, or human rights, and only one instance of “gender equality.” By comparison, the Nov. 21, 2024, draft does mention “Indigenous Peoples” three times, “human rights” once, short requests for specific reporting and the “gender-responsiveness of climate finance,” and includes one tiny flash of light with the phrase “intergenerational equity.” Compared with the year before, this version shows progress. It’s not all that we wanted, but it is something. As this document will serve as a basis for revising the “Gender Action Plan” in summer 2025 that will then be finalized at next year’s COP30, we still have hope, and we must continue to pray for ambitious language and courageous inclusivity.
Lastly, let us remember, as one young gender activist stated with impressive resolve: While words do matter, justice will come not from the language in these texts but from the movement on the ground. Our actions speak loudly, and we must work for change. We—who value others in all their diversity and recognize the nature of intersectional experience—must create opportunity and bring it to those most in need. God help us to bring life and light into the darkness, even when words fail.
Robin Okumu spends her time reading, writing, walking, traveling, and singing in Episcopal church choir. She holds a doctorate in comparative literature, a master’s degree in Italian literature, and a bachelor of fine arts in drawing and painting. She has lived in Rome and Paris, speaks Italian and French, and enjoys living a multilingual life. She works as a technical writer and as the publisher for Angels of Africa Press. She lives near Seattle, Washington, and is part of Christ Episcopal Church in Tacoma, Washington.