Environment

Authorities have confirmed ‘Timmy’ the whale, whose rescue drew global attention, has been found dead off the coast of Denmark. The news comes two weeks after his complicated rescue off Germany’s Baltic coast and release into the North Sea.

Satellite images have captured a suspected oil slick spanning dozens of square kilometres near Iran’s Kharg Island, the country’s main oil export hub. Despite fears of a disaster, environmental observers say the slick is shrinking.

Britain’s famed natural historian David Attenborough is celebrating his 100th birthday. The broadcaster has made some of the world’s most iconic wildlife documentaries, in a 70-year career that saw him become a global voice for conservation and climate change advocacy.

Southern Russia is facing one of the largest environmental disasters in its modern history. In April, repeated Ukrainian strikes on Russian oil infrastructure in Tuapse triggered massive refinery fires and oil spills along the Black Sea coast, including near Sochi. Residents described “black rain” falling from the sky as smoke and petroleum residue spread across the region. Weeks later, wildlife is still dying, beaches remain polluted and volunteers trying to respond say their efforts have often been obstructed. The authorities, meanwhile, have focused less on confronting the scale of the catastrophe than on silencing those speaking out about it. Despite the ongoing environmental damage, officials are already discussing reopening the beaches and launching the tourist season.

The catastrophe raises difficult questions about environmental destruction during wartime. Ukraine, which has experienced countless environmental catastrophes related to Russia’s all-out war, has been among the leading actors advocating for the recognition of ecocide as an international crime, even though the concept has yet to be formally codified in international law. Following the April strikes, however, some environmental activists in Russia and beyond are now also accusing Ukraine of hypocrisy and causing long-term environmental harm through strikes on oil infrastructure. There is a real debate over whether such actions can be justified, even when targeting an aggressor, if their environmental consequences may last for decades.

But focusing exclusively on Ukrainian strikes risks obscuring the deeper structural causes of the disaster. Russia’s oil infrastructure is deeply embedded in its war economy, and environmental damage of this magnitude does not occur in a vacuum. It is shaped by years of deregulation, lack of oversight and the systematic dismantling of environmental protections. These trends have only intensified during the full-scale invasion, as environmental safeguards have increasingly been cancelled in order to sustain the war economy. This includes recent legislative changes affecting the protection of Lake Baikal — a unique ecosystem that contains around 23 percent of the world’s unfrozen freshwater — raising concerns among experts about long-term environmental risks.

For years, environmental organisations in Russia have been labelled “foreign agents” or declared “undesirable”, independent environmental movements have been dismantled and activists forced into exile. The current catastrophe is unfolding in a country where ecological disasters are often silenced rather than addressed.

What is striking in the current situation is not only the scale of the damage but the response of the authorities. Rather than responding with transparency and accountability, Russian officials have largely attempted to silence discussion around the disaster. This recalls earlier patterns, including the initial response to the Chornobyl disaster, where secrecy and delayed disclosure significantly worsened the human and environmental consequences.

In this sense, responsibility does not lie only in the immediate cause of the disaster, but also in the absence of preparedness, regulation and accountability.

This disaster has also triggered an unusual wave of discussion within Russia itself, much of it unfolding online, despite increasing censorship. Volunteers on the ground have reported being obstructed and, in some cases, harassed while trying to rescue wildlife. Journalists attempting to document the situation have faced detention. Even as the catastrophe unfolds, the space to speak about it remains tightly controlled.

Yet the public reaction is telling. Much of it is happening on Instagram, which is banned in Russia, and on other social media platforms, with people still using VPNs to speak out and read real news. Rather than turning primarily into accusations against Ukraine, much of this discussion has been directed at the Russian authorities. The disaster is being used, implicitly and sometimes explicitly, to question the lack of coordination, the absence of transparency and the broader political system that allows such crises to happen.

This is significant. In a country where even calling the war a war is effectively prohibited, environmental catastrophe has become one of the few channels through which criticism can still surface.

The situation also exposes a deeper problem that goes beyond Russia. It highlights a fundamental gap in international law: the lack of effective mechanisms to address large-scale environmental destruction in the context of war.

Recent events illustrate the consequences of this gap. The destruction of the Kakhovka Dam caused massive ecological damage, yet failed to generate sustained legal or political accountability at the international level. Since then, environmental destruction has continued to accompany the war, without clear mechanisms to address it.

More broadly, the issue is being sidelined. The war in Ukraine has become so heavily politicised globally that discussions of its environmental consequences are often reduced, avoided or absorbed into larger geopolitical narratives. From the perspective of an environmental activist from Russia, this creates a deep sense of helplessness. These issues are becoming harder to raise, not because they are less important, but because they are competing with an overwhelming number of global crises.

This frustration is also visible within parts of the Russian antiwar movement, where there is a growing perception that international actors are more focused on the economic consequences of the conflict than on addressing its deeper causes and risks that go beyond military threats.

Meanwhile, environmental destruction across Russia, a country that spans one-10th of the Earth’s land surface, continues with little international attention. This includes not only wartime damage, but also longstanding patterns tied to extractivism, colonial governance in national republics, and the systematic marginalisation of Indigenous communities. These are not separate issues. They are part of the same underlying problem, one that remains largely unaddressed.

Environmental exploitation in Russia’s regions has long been tied to older imperial patterns of control and dispossession. These same southern regions are also the regions where the Russian Empire committed genocide against the Indigenous Circassian people, exterminating and expelling more than 95 percent of the local population in the late 19th century. And now, what the Russian authorities seem to care about is not the environmental devastation itself, but reopening the beaches so the region can continue generating income.

While Europe is preparing to spend hundreds of billions of euros responding to what it sees as a growing Russian military threat, far less attention is being paid to the political and economic structures sustaining environmental destruction inside Russia itself. From the perspective of an environmental activist and someone finishing a master’s degree in international affairs, there is a striking gap in how the root causes of this crisis are being addressed.

Too little attention is paid to the deeper structures that sustain it: Russia’s colonial governance and extractivist economic model in the regions of Russia. These issues remain underexplored not only in political decision-making but also in academia and media coverage. This gap is particularly visible in the missed opportunities to engage with emerging Russian decolonial movements and Indigenous activists from national republics, who have long been raising precisely these concerns. Their perspectives remain marginal, even though they are essential for understanding both environmental destruction and political instability in the region.

Many international organisations and NGOs have also scaled down or abandoned work related to Russia’s internal environmental and human rights issues, as well as broader regional dynamics in Eastern Europe and Central Asia. As a result, entire areas of expertise are disappearing at the very moment they are most needed. Voices that could contribute to a deeper understanding, and potentially to long-term solutions, are increasingly sidelined or ignored.

And when catastrophe comes, people are left asking how it became possible for oil to fall from the sky.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.

Dealing with emissions could help alleviate effects of Iran crisis on global energy supply, says report.

Tackling methane emissions in the fossil fuel sector would help efforts to hold back climate change and increase energy security, especially as the Iran crisis threatens global supplies, according to a report by the International Energy Agency (IEA).

The oil, gas and coal industries account for about 35 percent of all methane emissions from human activity, notes the IEA’s Global Methane Tracker 2026, released on Monday. However, there is little progress in reducing them, the report points out.

“There is still no sign that methane emissions from fossil fuel operations are falling, despite well-known and proven mitigation pathways,” the IEA said.

Methane, the second-biggest contributor to climate change, stays in the atmosphere for far less time than carbon dioxide, but its warming effect is roughly 80 times more potent over a 20-year period.

The IEA estimates that methane emissions from oil, gas and coal total 124 million tonnes a year. Oil is the largest source at 45 million tonnes (Mt), followed by coal at 43 Mt, and natural gas at 36 Mt.

“A further 20 Mt comes from bioenergy production and consumption, largely from the incomplete combustion of traditional biomass used for cooking and heating in developing economies,” the report added.

Oil prices have soared since the United States and Israel launched their war against Iran in late February and Tehran closed the Strait of Hormuz in response. An April ceasefire between the sides is currently holding, but global energy supplies remain limited.

The ongoing crisis is reshaping the global energy system and disrupting about 20 percent of global liquefied natural gas (LNG) trade flows.

Nearly 100 billion cubic metres of natural gas could be made available annually through a global effort to cut methane from oil and gas operations, the IEA said, estimating that nearly 15 billion cubic metres could be made available in a sufficiently short period of time to provide some relief to gas markets.

A further 100 billion cubic metres would be unlocked through the elimination of non-emergency flaring worldwide, it added.

Paris initiative

France, using its role as rotating chair of the Group of Seven (G7) bloc of industrialised powers, convened government officials, industry leaders and experts on Monday to build momentum on cutting methane emissions.

The conference aimed at reducing methane emissions ahead of the United Nations’ November COP31 summit.

“I sincerely hope that the discussions we will have today will enable us to join our forces to accelerate the implementation of effective solutions to reduce methane emissions,” French Ecological Transition Minister Monique Barbut said in a speech.

“Of course, action on methane is not a fight of any single actor and nobody can win it alone,” she added, noting that the world remains “very far” from meeting a pledge to cut methane emissions by 30 percent by 2030 compared with 2020 levels.

“Reducing methane emissions remains one of the best things we can do to slow global warming while cleaning up our air, improving public health, and increasing our energy security,” British Secretary of State for Energy Security Ed Miliband said in a video message.

In this episode of Reframe, Varsha Gandikota-Nellutla, general coordinator of Progressive International, speaks with former Colombian Environment Minister Susana Muhamad about how Latin America should respond to the age of United States President Donald Trump. Muhamad argues that challenging a long history of imperial dominance begins with reclaiming sovereignty, particularly over natural resources like minerals and oil.

Muhamad is a Colombian politician and environmentalist who served as the minister of environment and sustainable development from 2022 to 2025.

It’s so big that it crosses two different continents

The world’s biggest lake is so large that it is the same size as Japan. There are more than 304 million lakes worldwide, filled with slowly moving or standing water.

Many of the largest in the world can even be classed as inland seas. However, the lakes are still landlocked and connected to the oceans via rivers or narrow channels.

The Caspian Sea is the largest lake in the world, with a surface area of 386,400 sq km (149,200 sq mi). It sits across both Europe and Asia.

The huge lake is bordered by Kazakhstan, Russia, Azerbaijan, Iran and Turkmenistan. Its surface is about 27 metres below sea level.

In comparison, the Caspian Sea is almost five times as large as Lake Superior, which lies on the border of Canada and the US and covers 82,000 sq km (31,660 sq mi).

The Caspian Sea is so large that it accounts for up to 44% of the world’s lake waters.

The Caspian Sea is believed to be around 30 million years old and became landlocked about 5.5 million years ago. Europe’s longest river, the Volga, flows into the Caspian Sea and is the main freshwater source.

Due to this flow, the Caspian Sea’s water is almost fresh. Over 130 rivers go into the Caspian Sea, including the Ural River and the Kura River.

There are several small islands in the lake, with most of them in the North. Some islands are near the coasts, but none are found in the deeper parts.

Baku, the capital of Azerbaijan, is the largest city by the Caspian Sea, with others also including Astara in Iran, Atyrau in Kazakhstan and Derbent in Russia.

The lake is home to a wide range of species, and it is particularly known for its caviar and oil.

Sadly, pollution from the oil industry and dams on rivers that drain into the lake have harmed its ecosystem.

Due to global warming, it has been reported that the depth of the sea will decrease by nine to 18 meters.

About 850 animal and more than 500 plant species live in the Caspian, many of which are endemic. Six critically endangered species of sturgeon live in its waters, as well as the unique Caspian seal and beluga.

Chinguetti, Mauritania – Bookkeeper Muhammad Gholam el-Habot gently pulled a pair of white gloves onto his slender hands and set about his routine in his high-ceilinged, cool library lined with steel bookshelves.

He opened a thick manuscript printed in Arabic. After leafing through its brown and frail pages, looking for damage, el-Habot closed the book with a satisfied thud, rubbed his fingers over the wrinkled leather cover, and carefully placed it in a white cardboard box.

“These books are very important to my family and me,” the librarian said, as the midday sunlight spilled in through open wooden doors. He spoke in Hassaniya Arabic, the dialect spoken in Mauritania, his voice low, his sentences halting and poetic. Fat flies buzzed around his long oval face as he worked.

“My relationship with them is like that of a father and his son,” he continued. “We must protect them until God takes the land and all the people who are on the land.”

The el-Habot family library is only one of a handful of its kind still operating in Chinguetti, a medieval fortress town or ksar in Mauritania’s northern Adrar region. Once a centre of commerce and Islamic learning between the 13th and 17th centuries, it is now largely abandoned as, over the decades, locals have sought opportunities in bigger cities.

Chinguetti is also at the mercy of a changing climate.

Mauritania, in northwest Africa, is 90 percent Sahara desert and has faced desertification for centuries. Now, human-induced climate change is an accelerant. Sand and flash storms occur more frequently, while extreme hot or cold seasons last longer than usual.

Those pressures are a “big deal” for precious books, said Andrew Bishop, a researcher at the University of Wyoming studying climate impacts on Saharan cultures.

“Extreme heat and less predictable rainfall patterns means that texts are increasingly damaged by water or heat, making many manuscripts beyond repair. More than that, the mud libraries themselves are not built for sudden rain and longer summer of over 40 degrees (Celsius, or 104 degrees Fahrenheit),” he told Al Jazeera.

Many of Chinguetti’s 4,500 residents now live in cement buildings outside the original confines of the abandoned ksar, built out of dry stone and red mudbrick. There are fears that the entire area, which is about 500 square kilometres (200 square miles) – about the size of Prague – is at risk of being buried by surrounding sand dunes in the long run, although there is not a clear timeline yet.

Islam’s ‘seventh holiest city’

El-Habot did not always want to be a bookkeeper.

But when his father grew sick in 2002, he took over the approximately 1,400 manuscripts out of obligation. It was an honour in his culture to be selected, he said.

It would be out of the question now, the 50-year-old librarian said. He imagines that his two sons would reject the duty, as many of their peers have left to explore economic opportunities in the capital city, Nouakchott, or elsewhere.

“This is something that we have to do; it is a family obligation,” el-Habot said, with a bewildered expression. “This is not even a question to be asked.”

The family manuscripts are sacred because they are rare. The bookkeeper’s ancestor, Sidi Mohamed Ould Habot, was one of about two dozen Chinguetti scholars who travelled around the Muslim world between the 18th and 19th centuries, from Egypt to Andalusia, in search of knowledge.

Between them, the scholars amassed a vast fortune of about 6,000 scripts. They covered almost every topic: Islamic jurisprudence, the hadith or teachings of the Prophet Muhammad, mathematics, medicine, and poetry. Some of the works came from the scholars themselves, including the older el-Habot, who wrote about the science of poems.

The books were stored in about 30 libraries in Chinguetti, open to people from all over the world.

At the time, the town was famous because of its location at the crossroads of trans-Saharan trade routes linking the Sahel and the Maghreb. Camel caravans guided by nomadic Berber traders transporting goods – mostly salt and gold – between northern Africa and the southern empires used the city as a way station, transforming it into a commercial hub.

Muslim pilgrims on their way to Mecca on foot or camel would gather in Chinguetti and prepare themselves spiritually and mentally for their long, difficult journey before heading on to Cairo. Islamic and scientific texts were exchanged, bought and sold in the town.

In West African lore, Chinguetti was referred to as Islam’s seventh holiest city. Others nicknamed it the “Sorbonne of the Sahara”, according to UNESCO.

Generation after generation managed the libraries. Over time, as the caravan trade declined due to new European sea routes, the old town emptied and several libraries closed.

“Chinguetti was the mother of all people,” el-Habot said, referring to the town’s old status as the main capital of the region. Indeed, the area now known as Mauritania was called “Bilad Shinqit” or Land of Chinguetti. In the local Soninke language, it translates to “spring of horses”.

“People had to go because they wanted to feed themselves, get education for their kids, and get better opportunities for themselves too,” el-Habot said, adding that there were no universities close by, and only a handful of primary and middle schools.

Some within his family have moved on, as well, the bookkeeper said. Those, like him, who stayed back, wanted to respect their ancestor’s three wishes.

“His wishes were that the library stay in Chinguetti, that it should be open to all seekers of knowledge, and that a male descendant of his who is religious and morally upright be the bookkeeper,” el-Habot explained. Not following those instructions, he said, could invite God’s anger.

Chinguetti’s decline is largely due to the lack of support for its traditional lifestyle, Bishop said. Annual rainfall in Mauritania has decreased by 35 percent since 1970, making it harder for herders to graze or for date palms to produce fruit.

In 1996, UNESCO granted Chinguetti and three other Mauritanian ksour World Heritage Status, cementing their rich legacy. The few people still living in the old town are allowed to renovate but only minimally, to keep its original stone architecture and the typical Moorish structuring where houses are lined up along narrow alleys that lead to a mosque with a square minaret.

Just outside Chinguetti are the excavated ruins of Abweir, a town of 25,000 believed to have been founded in 777 AD, and believed to be the “original” Chinguetti. Its residents moved from the settlement, locals believe, in 1264 – likely after a conflict. Over time, the area was completely swallowed by sand.

Saving the manuscripts

El-Habot’s job, while enjoyable much of the time, is also taxing, he admitted.

Preserving old books by reprinting or digitising the most worn-out manuscripts before they become unreadable is a costly process. He often needs chemicals to keep away book-eating insects and has to fund more suitable storage.

Then, there is the weather, which is out of his control. Mauritania swelters in the dry season between April and December, and is bitingly cold in the winter months that follow. Old pages are sensitive to both extremes and can become brittle, el-Habot said. Sometimes, when it is really hot, he places buckets of water around the library hall to spur humidity.

Flash floods, meanwhile, threaten water damage.

Visitors to the library usually pay a small fee, but tourist numbers dropped drastically across Mauritania in the mid-2000s, when armed groups attacked foreigners. The COVID-19 pandemic also reduced the flow of travellers.

Mauritania has since clamped down on violence. Tourists are slowly coming back, el-Habot said, and some of the locals who left have also returned.

In 2024, a $100,000 UNESCO restoration project provided air-conditioning units, computers and printers, as well as shelving units and storage boxes to 13 family libraries to stimulate the sector. But most libraries remain closed, their texts scattered among members. The lack of capacity of young people who are not as interested in preserving Chinguetti’s culture will continue to pose a challenge, Bishop said.

Back in the library, el-Habot continued working, his thin frame bent over his manuscripts. He opened one book and pointed excitedly at its pages: They depicted the moon in its luteal phases, and an eclipse. A third page showed the holy cities of Mecca and Madina.

“I have to protect this heritage,” el-Habot said in his low voice. “As mine, and also for all of humanity.”

Kylie Jenner is being sued by a former housekeeper who claims she was harassed and discriminated against while working for the makeup mogul.

Angelica Hernandez Vasquez filed a lawsuit against Kylie Jenner Inc., Tri Star Services and La Maison Family Services on Friday alleging that she was subjected to “severe and pervasive harassment” throughout her employment.

According to court documents obtained by The Times, Vasquez worked for the reality TV star from September 2024 to August 2025, and from her first day on staff at Jenner’s Hidden Hills residence, she was treated with “hostility and exclusion” by the head housekeeper, identified only as Patsy, and another supervisor, identified as Elsi.

Vasquez, who states that she is a Salvadoran woman and practicing Catholic, claims she was routinely assigned the more unsavory tasks involved in housekeeping and excluded from the housekeeping team. According to the suit, she was humiliated by fellow staff members and belittled due to her race, country of origin, religion and immigration status.

The former housekeeper for Jenner further claims that she was mocked for her accent and degraded. She claims that supervisors snapped their fingers while shouting at her, demanded to inspect her phone, made statements including “Catholics are horrible people,” and forced her to perform other staff members’ duties.

According to the court documents, Vasquez reported the mistreatment after Thanksgiving 2024, and in response, the harassment escalated. She also alleges that her scheduled hours were reduced. When Vasquez complained again in March 2025, she claims that a supervisor threw hangers at her feet and threatened her.

Although the “Keeping Up With the Kardashians” star was not personally accused of bullying behavior in the filing, Vasquez alleges that the defendants failed to pay her in full, paid her late, failed to pay overtime wages, and failed to reimburse business expenses, among other claims.

Vazquez is seeking damages “in the form of unpaid wages, meal and rest period premium pay, unreimbursed business expenses, unpaid sick leave, and all other compensation unlawfully withheld.”

Representatives for Jenner have not yet responded to The Times’ request for comment.

A group of hikers were forced to flee as Guatemala’s Santiaguito Volcano erupted, throwing rocks into the air around them. Santiaguito is one of the world’s most active volcanoes, featuring frequent, often daily, explosive eruptions and pyroclastic flows.

First all-women cohort of winners hails from Colombia, Nigeria, Papua New Guinea, South Korea, the UK and the US.

This year’s prestigious Goldman Environmental Prize has been awarded to six grassroots environmental activists from around the world for their efforts to fight climate change and save biodiversity.

For the first time since the prize was created in 1989 by philanthropists Richard and Rhoda Goldman, all recipients of the award are women: Iroro Tanshi, from Nigeria; Borim Kim, from South Korea; Sarah Finch, from the United Kingdom; Theonila Roka Matbob, from Papua New Guinea; Alannah Acaq Hurley, from the United States; and Yuvelis Morales Blanco, from Colombia.

Sometimes described as the “Green Nobel”, the Goldman Prize recipients are chosen from each of the world’s six primary regions. They each receive $200,000 in prize money.

“While we continue to fight uphill to protect the environment and implement lifesaving climate policies – in the US and globally – it is clear that true leaders can be found all around us,” said John Goldman, vice president of the Goldman Environmental Foundation.

“The 2026 Prize winners are proof positive that courage, hard work, and hope go a long way toward creating meaningful progress.”

Morales Blanco, the winner for the region of South and Central America, fought some of the world’s biggest oil companies to successfully stop the introduction of commercial fracking into Colombia.

The 24-year-old grew up in a family of fishermen along the banks of the Magdalena River in the Afro-Colombian community of Puerto Wilches. “We had nothing but the river – she was like a mother who took care of me,” she said.

She began organising protests after a major oil spill in 2018, which forced the relocation of dozens of local families and killed thousands of animals. Her activism, which made her a target for intimidation and forced her to temporarily relocate, helped halt projects and elevate fracking as an issue in Colombia’s 2022 election.

Two of the other five recipients of this year’s prize have also focused their efforts on fighting fossil fuels, which are causing both global climate change and more localised pollution around the world.

Borim, the winner for Asia who started the Youth 4 Climate Action organisation, won a ruling from South Korea’s Constitutional Court that the government’s climate policy violated the constitutional rights of future generations, the first successful youth-led climate litigation in the continent.

Finch, Europe’s winner, told The Times newspaper she will use her prize money to keep fighting fossil fuels.

Together with the Weald Action Group, she fought oil drilling in southeastern England for more than a decade, securing the “Finch ruling” from the Supreme Court in June 2024, stating that authorities must consider fossil fuels’ impacts on the global climate before granting permission to extract them.

Two other recipients have fought against the destructive environmental impact of mining projects.

Papua New Guinea’s Roka Matbob, winner for Islands and Island Nations, led a successful campaign that saw the world’s second-largest mining company, Rio Tinto, agree to address environmental and social devastation caused by its Panguna copper mine, 35 years after it was closed following an uprising.

And the award recipient for North America, Acaq Hurley, from the Yup’ik nation in the US, successfully fought alongside 15 tribal nations to stop a mega- copper and gold mining project that threatened ecosystems in Alaska’s Bristol Bay region, including the largest wild salmon runs in the world.

Meanwhile, Nigeria’s Tanshi, Africa’s winner, rediscovered the endangered short-tailed roundleaf bat and has been working to save its refuge, the Afi Mountain Wildlife Sanctuary, from human-induced wildfires.