Dário Kopenawa Yanomami remembers the hum of generators and the churn of dredges echoing through the heart of Yanomami territory—sounds that once marked the peak of illegal gold mining in 2022, when nearly 1,800 hectares of rainforest were scarred. Today, that roar has quieted. Since President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva declared a health emergency in 2023, launching coordinated federal operations, illegal mining activity in the Yanomami Indigenous Territory has plummeted by an estimated 99%. But the fight isn’t over. Miners, once concentrated in large, visible camps near airstrips, have splintered into smaller, stealthier groups, vanishing deep into the forest and along remote borders with Venezuela and Guyana. “They are increasingly going into the middle of the forest,” says Nilton Tubino, head of the Government House in Roraima. “Our operations have also had to adapt—walks of 100 kilometers, staying in the bush, walking a lot.”
This shift marks a new phase in the battle to reclaim Yanomami land. Satellite imagery, once effective at spotting mining scars and turbid rivers, now struggles to detect the faint traces of these hidden operations. The government calls it “scavenging the territory”—a grueling, boots-on-the-ground effort to root out miners who evade remote surveillance. In just over a year, authorities have carried out 10,554 enforcement actions, dismantling 907 illegal mining camps and destroying 87 airstrips. They’ve seized 249 kilograms of gold, over a ton of mercury, and confiscated or destroyed hundreds of vehicles, boats, and generators. Yet, despite these gains, the threat persists, especially for isolated Indigenous communities vulnerable to diseases like malaria, which has spread alongside mining activity.
The border region near Simada Ocho in southern Venezuela has become a particular concern, serving as a hub for miners seeking to bypass Brazilian enforcement. These remote zones allow illegal operations to continue, sustained by high prices for gold and the desperation of those drawn to it. Still, the transformation since 2022 is undeniable. Where 1,800 hectares were degraded by mining, only 129 hectares were impacted in 2024 and 2025. For Dário Kopenawa, vice-president of the Hutukara Yanomami Association, the progress is real but incomplete. “The government has carried out many operations, but other invaders, miners, are difficult to remove,” he says. “They remain in some specific locations.”
The road ahead is long, winding through rain-soaked trails and political complexities, but the Yanomami and their allies are not backing down. With every kilometer walked and every hidden camp destroyed, they inch closer to healing their land and protecting their people.