Imagine an idyllic archipelago of 29 coral atolls and over a thousand individual islands, each a repository of ancient traditions and cultural heritage. This is the Republic of the Marshall Islands, a place where the rhythm of the tides has always been in harmony with the lifestyle of its inhabitants, from the patterns of fishing to the cycles of local folklore. For generations, the landmarks of these atolls, whether natural formations or sites of historical significance, have served as living monuments that stitch together the fabric of Marshallese culture.
These landmarks are more than just geographical features: They are essential elements that sustain the island's unique biodiversity and cultural legacy. Climate change, manifested most directly in rising sea levels and extreme weather conditions, is dramatically altering this dynamic. The same tides that nurtured the islands are now eroding their shores, taking with them not only sand and soil, but also the landmarks integral to the Marshallese cultural identity. This dual erosion of both land and culture is not just a crisis. It's an existential threat to an entire way of life.
According to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), even in a low-emissions scenario, sea levels could rise as much as one meter by 2300. For the Marshall Islands, where the highest point is only two meters above sea level, 40% of the buildings in the capital city of Majuro would become permanently submerged.
But the crisis goes beyond the loss of land. Scott Paul, the city manager in Ebeye, the most populous island of the country, articulates the depth of this loss: “We have trees that we used to play under as children that are now submerged due to erosion.” These aren't merely trees. They are part of the cultural fabric, woven with stories and irreplaceable childhood memories. Studies conducted across 15 atolls in the Marshall Islands report increased salinization of soil and groundwater, contaminating and reducing the viability of arable land.
This crisis represents a direct assault on a way of life that has sustained the Marshallese for generations.“Losing these sites is like losing part of your identity,” Scott Paul says. In the face of this relentless existential threat, the stakes go beyond relocation and land loss. Rising sea levels and more frequent king tides pose an unprecedented threat to the Marshall Islands.
Nowhere is the combination of cultural and physical loss more apparent than in Majuro, where burial grounds are beginning to wash away, leaving behind only the remains of previous generations and erasing the opportunity for younger generations to recognize the significance and history of their ancestors. Adding to the issue, research indicates that rising sea levels are causing the water table to rise, allowing saltwater intrusion that can cause trees to blow over, which in turn can uproot graves. The loss of newer cemeteries or burial grounds within a single lifetime is a stark reminder that the impacts of sea level rise are real and immediate.
The Republic of the Marshall Islands also faces serious environmental impacts that directly affect the well-being of the community. One critical issue is the salinization of freshwater aquifers. The intrusion of saltwater into these natural reservoirs makes them less viable as sources of drinking water. This degradation adds another layer of urgency, affecting daily life and public health.
In response to this pressing issue, organisations like Jo-Jikum are rising to the challenge. Kathy Kiljner-Jenner, founder of the organisation, says: “Jo-Jikum, meaning 'your home' or 'your place' in Marshallese, stands for a youth for a greener, more lush place.” Jollia Peter, a local youth climate activist and youth coordinator at Jo-Jikum, adds to this urgency and shares her perspective on the critical role land ownership plays in Marshallese culture: "[The concept of] land rights is one of the most important parts of culture back home,” she emphasises. Stemming from a matriarchal society where land ownership is passed down through the women of the household, land rights form the crux of Marshallese identity.
Jo-Jikum seeks to raise both local and international awareness about the imminent threats faced by the Marshallese people. They are fighting for the only home they have ever known, a home that may soon vanish unless global action is taken. Together, both the visible loss of landmarks and the invisible degradation of resources like fresh water compound the complexities of living in a changing climate. The Marshallese are witnessing the disappearance of both their history and their life-sustaining natural resources. The need for action has never been clearer or more urgent.
While the impacts of the climate crisis on the Marshall Islands are daunting, the resilience and ingenuity of the Marshallese have led to a variety of innovative solutions aimed at preserving land and culture. In the words of environmental activist Kathy Jetn̄il-Kijiner, “Part of the education that we have to [teach] our young people and [...] the community [...] is highlighting the differences between [urgent and future threats], that solar panels can help us for the future, but seawalls are going to protect us now, and that we need to keep an eye out for what's going to be irreversibly lost and protect those [resources] as well.”
One such solution involves raising awareness about the disappearing natural landmarks through informational kiosks, an effort that Jetn̄il-Kijiner describes as an educational tool that allows the Marshallese to “feel connected to their island and to the environment around them.” These stations are strategically placed near vulnerable landmarks and display key information about their significance and the threats they face.
Youth organisations like Jo-Jikum are also actively working to document and preserve cultural heritage, engaging local youth in arts and advocacy efforts to strengthen their connection to the land. As Kathy Jetn̄il-Kijiner explains, “Now those youth can go to those landmarks and be like, I painted that and I learned [about this] legend.” This distinct opportunity to be a participant in the formulation of these educational kiosks allows the Marshallese youth to develop an even deeper sense of involvement within these landmarks, allowing them to forge a stronger connection with their cultural heritage even in trying times.
In addition to educational initiatives, the Marshallese are embracing technological approaches that can be broadly divided into adaptation and mitigation strategies. On the adaptation front, Scott Paul emphasizes the need to “prolong our habitability here in the Marshall Islands, prolong our way of life, prolong our ability to preserve our culture,” which aligns with the National Adaptation Plan's bold initiatives to elevate the islands, relocate communities within the country, and construct new islands. Temporary measures like the construction of sea walls are also crucial for immediate protection.
On the mitigation side, the Marshallese are embracing clean energy solutions, installing solar panels across the country. Jollia Peter notes, “In regards to mitigation, we have places that are using solar panels. Most of the neighboring atolls are using solar panels.” Electric scooters are replacing gas-powered vehicles, and reverse osmosis units for desalinating water are being implemented, although transporting these units to outer islands remains a challenge.
In a sobering assessment, Dr. Eric Rasmussen, the research director and senior scientist at the Kwajalein Atoll Sustainability Laboratory (KASL), notes, “There has been a global increase of about 1.3°C by 2022 in the temperature average around the world, the Marshall Islands in 2020 were already at 1.5°C, and they were seeing some of the fastest sea level rise of any place on the planet.” These dire statistics make it all the more essential for the Marshall Islands to focus on “mitigation, adaptation, and now we're also incorporating loss and damage,” as Kathy Jetn̄il-Kijiner points out, adding that “at the end of the day, they're all equally important for our country.”
In the words of Scott Paul, “We know that climate change is inevitable. It will happen, and one of these days we will have to leave the islands. But our wish right now is to find ways that we can help prolong our ability to stay in our homes and our lands as much as we can. But in the event that we will have to leave our islands, we want to make sure that our future, our kids, become contributing members of society instead of being a burden to society.”
Both educational and technological solutions are integral to the Marshall Islands' approach to combating climate change. While educational initiatives aim to inform and preserve, technological strategies offer tangible actions for adaptation and mitigation. Each plays a vital role in preserving not just the Marshallese environment, but also the rich cultural heritage that is under threat.
In the face of overwhelming odds, the Marshallese people are displaying extraordinary resilience. Their concerted efforts reflect a community fully aware of what is at stake, fighting not just for their home, but for their identity, history, and future.
Climate change poses an urgent and existential threat to vulnerable developing nations like the Marshall Islands. The urgency of the situation in island states on the front lines of the climate crisis underscores the critical need for immediate and substantial action to mitigate the devastating impacts.
Created to support communities on the front lines of climate change, the Loss and Damage Fund becomes an essential lifeline for developing nations like the Marshall Islands. “All countries have to have a national adaptation plan. For countries like ours, that takes on a new meaning and a new significance because it's basically what we're calling ‘our survival plan,’” Kathy says.
The Loss and Damage Fund goes beyond merely compensating losses. It enables culturally sensitive and sustainable adaptation and mitigation strategies. Kathy explains, “Given the fact that we are a low-lying atoll nation, every island is an atoll. Basically, that means we're only two metres above sea level at the highest [point], and we're extremely vulnerable to sea level rise. So when we're working on our National Adaptation Plan, we're looking at really extreme adaptation measures. That includes elevating islands, relocation within the country, and also extending the island to the lagoon.” The next generation is leading the charge against climate change.
Kathy underscores the important role of youth in national climate response, noting, “There's a huge amount of young people who make up a large portion of our population, and there's very few youth organisations.” On cultural preservation, she adds, “Indigenous communities can really relate to the fact that if you lose these sites, you lose a part of yourself,you lose a part of your identity, you lose knowledge, you lose proverbs, songs, things that are an important part of who you are as a people.”
Student climate activist Litokne Kabua, one of a group of teenage activists, including Greta Thunberg, who presented a human rights complaint to the United Nations in 2019, is inspired by the work of previous generations: “We don’t need to [only] look up to our leaders who are older — we can do it. If they could, then I can.”
The Loss and Damage Fund represents an opportunity for international, intergenerational cooperation, and moral responsibility. As Kathy puts it: “We need an ocean of people who are all fighting to preserve our environment, to take care of our cultures, to take care of Indigenous communities, to take care of our vulnerable frontline communities. We need everybody in this fight.”
