Mauritius: Green Rhetoric, Brown Governance
Inside Mauritius’ environmental leadership. How Mauritius learned to stop acting and love the status quo. At times even regressing. A carbon-free future fuelled by coal and plastic…
In 2026, environmental issues in Mauritius will no doubt be treated without the seriousness they deserve as it has been the case in 2025 – as a footnote in speeches, a photo opportunity near a mangrove and a paragraph copied from last year’s communiqué.
For the sake of institutional memory, it is worth revisiting the environmental legacy of the previous government – a legacy so disastrous that it deserves to be studied, if only as a cautionary tale. The years 2014 to 2024 did not merely disappoint; they actively redefined the lower limits of environmental governance. This was the decade that delivered an oil spill of historic proportions with the Wakashio, systematic deforestation justified as “development”, mangroves treated as expendable landscaping, and a waste-management system that appeared to operate in a permanent state of managed chaos.
At the helm of this ecological freefall stood figures whose contribution to energy transition and water security was, at best, metaphysical. The current leader of the opposition, then entrusted with these critical portfolios, presided over a period in which ambition evaporated and accountability was carefully rationed. Waste mismanagement has been another feather in his cap – who still remembers the extension of the Mare-Chicose management contract – an episode that conveniently concluded with a commission of inquiry and a final report so discreet that it has yet to trouble the public eye, for reasons undoubtedly well understood by some of today’s ruling figures.
Against such a record, the arrival of a new government in Port-Louis naturally raised hopes of rupture, reform, and perhaps, even remorse. Instead, what we are witnessing is a refined continuation – the same policies, the same silences, only delivered with fresher slogans. Environmental neglect has not disappeared; it has simply matured. It is now better rehearsed, more diplomatically phrased, and wrapped in the comforting language of “consultations”, “transitions” and “long-term visions”. In short, Mauritius has perfected a uniquely local model of environmental governance: disasters are described as lessons, inaction as prudence, and repetition as experience. Change, it seems, is always promised – just never scheduled.
The government led by the Navin-Paul duo is likely to persist with its well-rehearsed strategy of “eloquent concern without inconvenient action” – loudly proclaiming climate change a national priority while quietly approving decisions that move the country in the opposite direction. Environmental history already records that if, in 1999, the Prime Minister became the political father of the Independent Power Producers (IPP), then the Deputy Prime Minister acted as their devoted mother, nurturing their expansion in the years that followed.
Unsurprisingly, the extension of coal-based IPP power-purchase agreements has once again been quietly resuscitated under this government, granting fresh oxygen to carbon emissions while official rhetoric continues to champion a carbon-free future by 2050. An equally troubling retreat has been the lifting of bans on certain single-use plastic products, a move largely designed to appease private-sector interests. As plastic pollution steadily degrades ecosystems, coastlines, and lagoons, these decisions are still presented as pragmatic governance rather than what they truly are: deliberate environmental trade-offs made without public debate or accountability.
The irony, of course, is that the loudest environmental rhetoric will probably not come from the top, but from ministers and junior ministers who must operate within a system that sees ecology as a communication exercise rather than a policy imperative. Climate adaptation will be framed as “ongoing consultations”, coastal erosion as a “natural phenomenon”, and flooding as an “exceptional event” – recurring every year, exceptionally.
The greatest deception of this new government, now more than a year old, lies in the role played by its partner Rezistans ek Alternativ (ReA), long self-proclaimed champion of “social ecologism”. In practice, this doctrine appears to have been quietly rewritten: no “resistance” to environmentally damaging decisions on energy and plastics, and no serious discussion of “alternatives” that might inconvenience the alliance’s senior gurus.
What once claimed to be an ecological conscience has instead become a reliable rubber stamp, transforming social ecologism into a convenient slogan – invoked during campaigns, abandoned in government, and carefully silenced whenever coal and plastic are back on the agenda – what a shame!
The Blue economy will stay gloriously blue in glossy brochures, even as overfishing, unchecked exploitation by European fleets, depletion of our marine resources, coral degradation, and lagoon collapse unfold quietly beyond the frame. In 2026, environmental governance may thus reach its most refined form: a perfect balance between saying the right things internationally and doing just enough locally to change nothing.
Mauritius will still call itself a climate-vulnerable island state, still demand global justice, and still postpone difficult domestic decisions. After all, in this vision of the future, protecting the environment is important – just not urgent, structural, or allowed to interfere with politics, business, or comfort. In the actual context, let us pre-empt how certain local leaders who are closely involved with issues like climate change, biodiversity, terrestrial and marine ecosystems protection, pollution-free transport and others will act and react in 2026.
Saying the right things while changing nothing – is ageing the issue?
Is the ageing of our leaders – like Navin and Paul – causing them to forget about climate change and its impacts? Not at all, I believe. They do not forget climate change; they simply postpone it, treating it as tomorrow’s problem while governing firmly in yesterday’s world, and leaving younger generations to inherit the consequences.
Climate action often requires disruptive decisions – phasing out fossil fuels, regulating powerful industries, changing consumption habits – which can clash with leaders shaped by past growth paradigms and nearing the end of their political careers. As a result, climate change is acknowledged, discussed, and even lamented, but rarely treated with the urgency reserved for crises that deliver immediate political costs or gains.
While major policy shifts ultimately depend on decisions taken by the country’s top leadership, the most pressing challenges lie elsewhere – first within the ministry of Agro-industry and Blue economy, followed by the ministry of Public utilities, and finally the ministry responsible for transport. These portfolios hold the real levers of change, yet, remain the weakest links in translating climate rhetoric into concrete action. Let me critically see the roles of the top leaders of the country in 2026 – I beg that they prove me wrong by this time next year.
Navin – managing climate change without changing anything
Environmental Alzheimer
In 2026, the Prime Minister will no doubt continue to describe climate change as an “existential threat” – ideally from a podium safely removed from eroding coastlines, flooded streets of Port-Louis and elsewhere, or power stations emitting carbon dioxide.
The man who once launched the “MID vision” has now a “MILD vision” on environmental issues, and under his new leadership so far, environmental policy has remained an exercise in diplomatic eloquence. Climate change, in this vision, is a global injustice demanding compensation and sympathy, never quite a domestic policy failure requiring tough choices, regulation, or the political courage to say no.
His tenure has been marked by one compromise after another, each further weakening the island’s fragile ecosystems, with the faint hope that by the end of 2026, environmental protection might finally replace political convenience.
Paul – senior partner in power – the art of doing nothing
Not protecting the natural ecosystems, but the interests of some other systems
For Paul, environmental issues in 2026 will remain intellectually acknowledged, historically contextualised, and politically deferred. He will explain, at great length, why things are complex, why responsibility is shared, and why structural change must wait for better timing – a timing that never seems to arrive. Ecology will remain important, yes, but always secondary to political arithmetic, private sector interest, coalition stability, and the eternal belief that someone else should act first.
For years now, like a vulture circling its prey, he has repeatedly warned that the country is on the brink of a “blackout”. This looming catastrophe is invoked with such regularity that many observers no longer see it as a warning, but as a convenient pretext – one used to justify the continued nurturing and protection of the IPPs, regardless of their environmental cost and impacts. Time and again, profit for the private sector takes precedence over the protection of the planet and the well-being of its people. The energy transition is something that should not happen now, according to him.
Rajesh – eloquent concern, convenient inaction
Mauritius’ green illusion in 2026
The minister of Environment will continue his delicate performance: sounding alarm bells softly enough not to disturb Cabinet meetings. His ministry will produce reports, consultations, and awareness campaigns, all impeccably phrased, heavily funded, and conveniently ignored like he did in 2000.
In 2026, the environment portfolio will remain what it has long been: a ministry tasked with concern, not authority; expected to manage climate disasters without the power to prevent them. While many of the most strategic conservation responsibilities lie with other ministries, this one carries a fundamental duty: managing waste and preventing pollution. On that front, the record is deeply troubling. Shortly after the minister assumed office, a major fire broke out at Mare-Chicose – an incident widely suspected by specialists to have been intentional. Yet no independent inquiry was initiated to determine whether the fire was accidental or criminal, leaving serious questions unanswered.
Equally concerning is the collapse of the postEnvironmental Impact Assessment (EIA) monitoring unit. To date, none of the IPPs appear to be complying with the provisions of their respective EIAs regarding the handling and disposal of coal ash, officially classified as highly toxic. Enforcement has been replaced by silence, oversight by complacency, and regulation by abdication. Our environmental future is in the hands of a runner who is still on the track, but long out of breath, out of ideas, and out of time. A worn-out political relic, lacking both the skills and the stamina for the race ahead. How will things change in 2026?
Joanna – unfit morally for the pace and demands of the future
Perhaps the biggest joke in town is the transformation itself: once hugging trees and theatrically cutting a lock of hair to symbolically ‘stop’ thousands of tons of fuel oil from the Wakashio from reaching our shores – a performance clearly inspired by the aesthetics of Greta Thunberg – powerful in optics, flawless on camera. Yet in power, the symbolism evaporates, revealing a politics that abandons principle for convenience.
What once passed for ecological theatre has now fully matured into environmental surrender. In 2025, not a single tree was planted – the tree-hugging era having been quietly retired. The dramatic sacrifice of a lock of hair has instead evolved into the lifting of bans on plastic items, ensuring that coastlines remain well supplied with debris, and that plastic pollution continues to thrive, both offshore and in our already stressed lagoons.
She will speak passionately, post diligently, and visit affected sites promptly – usually after the damage is done. She will represent the future voice of environmental politics trapped inside an old system that excels at absorbing youthful urgency and neutralising it through procedure. By the end of 2026, her role will illustrate perfectly how sincerity survives in government as long as it does not translate into binding decisions.
Arvin – Shakespeare on the podium, silent on the ground
Since the start of this government’s mandate, much has been said about Mauritius as an ‘Ocean State’. Yet this vast maritime domain continues to be managed in the interests of a few local and foreign fishing companies already positioned to dominate the sector. The contradiction is striking much like our continued importation of cotomili, this so-called Ocean State imported approximately USD 288 million worth of fish and fishery products annually in 2023-2024. One can only hope that the current fisheries protocol between Mauritius and the European Union, in force until 20 December 2026, will be meaningfully reviewed to curb exploitation and restore genuine sovereignty over our marine resources.
Blue economy – a colour, not a policy
If nothing fundamental changes, the Blue economy will remain blue mostly in name, colour palettes, and PowerPoint slides. By 2026, the minister will still promise sustainable oceans while lagoons suffocate quietly under pollution, overuse, and rising temperatures. Fisheries decline will be described as “under assessment”, coral bleaching as “concerning”, and marine protection as “a shared responsibility”, ensuring that no one is actually responsible. Over the past year, the ministry has appeared more submerged in fish by-catch scandals than engaged in any meaningful stewardship of the so-called Ocean State.
Shifting from the ocean to mainland Mauritius, the picture is no less troubling. Endemic forest cover remains below 1.5% – a figure unlikely to change overnight, but the absence of even basic policy signals or long-term reforestation commitments offers little reason for optimism. Mangroves, the backbone of coastal protection and climate resilience, still cover a meagre 20 km² – hardly an achievement worth celebrating.
Meanwhile, Mauritius continues to rank among the highest users of agricultural chemicals, with tons of pesticides and fertilisers finding their way into our soils, lagoons, and daily meals. The question is no longer whether this model is sustainable, but whether 2026 will finally bring a shift in policy and practice or whether environmental degradation will remain the accepted cost of political convenience.
Fabrice – the “before and after” syndrome guru of Facebook
Arvin’s junior, Fabrice – the self-styled Facebook “before and after” guru – has become the textbook illustration of how activism collapses the moment it discovers ministerial air-conditioning. Once prolific in exposing environmental failures through carefully curated comparisons, he now occupies a seat where such “before and after” visuals would be decidedly inconvenient. One almost awaits his next video chronicling his own transformation: before power, moral outrage; after power, disciplined silence. The “before and after” syndrome has thus reached its logical and tragic conclusion.
What was once denunciation is now justification; what was once unacceptable is suddenly “complex”; and what once demanded urgent action is now politely postponed. From the comfort of his office, he appears to have traded principle for proximity, content for convenience, and courage for continuity – quietly narrating decline while plastic bans are reversed, coalbased IPP power-purchase agreements are extended, and environmental red lines are carefully erased. From watchdog to spectator, from activist to accessory… What a waste indeed!
Patrick & Osman – the politics of delay…
Ignorance or pressure from Cabinet
These two “honoured” personalities carry the heavy responsibility of steering policy and action in the very sectors that contribute most generously to global warming. Patrick, a former chairman of the CEB, certainly knows his file – or at least he should. Osman, meanwhile, spent the last five years as a board member of MARENA, the very institution tasked with driving Mauritius’ renewable energy transition. Ignorance, therefore, cannot be pleaded; familiarity with the problems and the solutions is not in short supply.
Yet knowledge, it seems, is precisely what makes the current inaction so impressive. While Patrick hurried off to Turkey to finalise an electric barge – a fine symbol of green ambition conveniently floating far from the most pressing realities -, the energy transition, guided in principle by democratisation, decentralisation, and digitalisation has stalled, weighed down less by technical constraints than by the quiet influence of entrenched lobbies, whose interests appear stronger than any genuine political conviction or belief in transformation.
Osman, meanwhile, has been diligently occupied elsewhere championing road safety (which is also important) while quietly relegating the regulation of one of the country’s most polluting sectors to the background. He proudly flags the arrival of electric buses from India (a deal, incidentally, secured by the previous regime), conveniently overlooking the minor detail that these buses will be powered by electricity generated largely from coal. Voilà: decarbonisation by extension cord.
Thus, between expertise acquired and responsibility assumed, we are offered a masterclass in selective urgency: those who know the most act the least and those entrusted with transformation prefer detours. In the fight against climate change, leadership has not gone missing – it has simply chosen to look busy elsewhere.
Final sting
In 2026, Mauritius will still describe itself as a climate victim, still demand international solidarity, and still postpone the hard choices that real environmental leadership requires. This government will not deny climate change – it will simply manage it the Mauritian way: with excellent speeches, minimal disruption, and a firm belief that the future can wait. Again, I repeat, I will be the happiest man, if proven wrong.
By L’Express.
