The Legal Recognition of the Indigenous Macroterritory Jaguares del Yuruparí

For over three decades, a quiet but determined struggle has unfolded in Colombia—a journey to turn constitutional promise into living practice. At the heart of this transformation is the Indigenous macroterritory known as Jaguares del Yuruparí, a vast expanse in the Colombian Amazon, home to over 30 ancestral nations. Today, after years of resilience, this territory is finally being recognized not just on paper, but in law—as a self-governed territorial entity.

A Map That Must Change

“The current territorial order must be reformed if we’re to overcome inequality in Colombia,” says journalist María Jimena Duzán in A Fondo. This reform is not just administrative—it’s moral. It seeks to honor a historical debt to the Indigenous and Afro-descendant communities who have long safeguarded Colombia’s richest and most fragile ecosystems.

The 1991 Constitution granted Indigenous peoples the right to self-govern their ancestral lands, envisioning these territories as legal entities—on par with municipalities and departments. Yet, for 34 years, Congress failed to enact the necessary laws. The result? A map drawn without the people most attuned to the land.

Territory as Living System

Jaguares del Yuruparí stretches across 8 million hectares—16.5% of Colombia’s Amazon. It brings together dozens of nations including the Macuna, Tukano, Arapaso, and others who share a cultural logic rooted not in borders, but in rivers, sacred sites, and ecological calendars.

"We are not owners of the territory," says Gonzalo Macuna, General Secretary of the macroterritorial instance. "The territory was organized from the beginning by the creator beings." For these communities, territory is not a possession—it is a sacred, dynamic system of life that demands stewardship, not dominion.

Fighting for Life Against Extraction

Since 1989, the communities of the Yuruparí macroterritory have raised alarm over illegal mining. Mercury contamination, ecosystem collapse, and cultural disruption followed. In partnership with Fundación GA Amazonas, the Indigenous communities documented decades of environmental violence.

Scientific studies confirmed what communities already knew: the land and water were being poisoned. In 2023, Colombia’s Constitutional Court responded with landmark ruling T-106, declaring Jaguares del Yuruparí a "protected biocultural space," banning mining, ordering river decontamination, and recognizing Indigenous governance.

The Constitution Comes Alive

"The 1991 Constitution affirmed life, liberty, and peace—not just for humans, but for all life," explains legal advisor Juan Carlos Preciado. "It also recognized Indigenous systems of government and knowledge."

For Preciado, the recent decrees formalizing Indigenous territorial entities are not new rights—they are long-delayed fulfillments of constitutional law. With Congress inert, the Executive branch is finally moving to implement what was promised over three decades ago.

Wisdom in Women's Leadership

One of the most powerful voices in this historic process is Sonia Macuna, Captain of Campoalegre, and one of the few female authorities in her region. "This recognition allows us to strengthen our cultural identity and pass on our knowledge to future generations," she says. "We’re not demanding—we’re implementing what the Constitution already mandates."

Her leadership reflects a deeper tradition. “Women who cared for the malocas [traditional longhouses] were always the cultural stewards,” Sonia reminds us. “Now we are stepping into formal governance roles, honoring both tradition and future.”

A Governance Model Rooted in Wholeness

The Indigenous approach to territory sees no division between government, health, education, and the environment. “For us, territory is a unified system,” says Gonzalo. “Everything is connected.”

In contrast, the state governs in silos—health here, education there, environment elsewhere. This disconnect burdens Indigenous communities, who must reconcile their holistic reality with a fragmented bureaucracy.

Redrawing the Political Map

Recognizing Indigenous macroterritories reconfigures Colombia’s political landscape. “This will shake up the status quo,” Duzán notes. “There are entrenched political interests tied to the current map—this recognition challenges their grip.”

For too long, political elites have drawn power from territorial control. The emergence of Indigenous territorial entities threatens to shift that power, but also offers a new paradigm: governance aligned with land, culture, and ecological wisdom.

Guardians of the Amazon, Stewards of the Future

Beyond governance, the stakes are planetary. Where Indigenous peoples govern, the Amazon thrives. Maps of deforestation show this clearly.

“Bogotá is in a water crisis because the rains from the Amazon aren’t arriving as they used to,” says Preciado. “Deforestation is breaking the hydrological cycle. Protecting Indigenous autonomy protects all of us.”

This is not just an environmental issue—it’s about survival. The Amazon is essential to climate regulation, biodiversity, and the spiritual and physical health of the planet.

Toward a Plurinational Future

Despite the progress, challenges remain: administrative bottlenecks, structural racism, and widespread ignorance about Colombia’s plurinational reality. “We’re still a very colonial society,” says Preciado. “We think in homogenized terms. But the Constitution recognizes diversity as foundational.”

Sonia Macuna sees this moment clearly: “We are making history.” The Indigenous macroterritory of Jaguares del Yuruparí is not just a legal designation—it is a living model for how humans might live in respectful harmony with each other and the Earth.

To embrace this model is to let go of old hierarchies and step into a future rooted in wisdom, reciprocity, and wholeness. From the heart of the Amazon, a new map is being drawn. One that includes all of us—if we’re willing to learn.