1The implementation of an Access and Benefit-Sharing (ABS) procedure in French Guiana (between 2007 and 2016) was the first project of its kind in France. Nobody involved was fully prepared, not even the local stakeholders who had requested the creation of such a mechanism as a prerequisite for the establishment of the French Guiana Amazonian Park. As we shall see, these local players did not always facilitate the implementation process. In this chapter we look back over these years of tentative progress, hard work and constant mediation, an experience fraught with legislative, political and human challenges, and a process which had the unexpected effect of bringing together historical opponents around a core of shared ideas.

Creation of the French Guiana Amazonian Park

2An idea which began to gain traction in naturalist circles in the 1970s, the project to create a major national park in French Guiana was officially approved by President François Mitterrand on 4 June 1992 at the Earth Summit in Rio. It then took fifteen years of negotiations and two abortive proposals rejected by local stakeholders (in 1993 and 1999) to finally arrive at what would become the French Guiana Amazonian Park (French acronym: PAG) on 28 February 2007. The Park was a new addition to France’s network of national parks, and is officially Europe’s largest national park thanks to its 3.4 million hectares spanning the southern third of Guiana.

3This missions of the French Guiana Amazonian Park are as follows:

• conservation of terrestrial and aquatic ecosystems and associated human practices;
• recognition of cultural diversity and transmission of knowledge;
• improving quality of life and supporting development.

4In order to finalise the creation of the Park, changes were required to the legislation on national parks in order to update their missions by making them responsible for ensuring sustainable development locally, and to introduce the concept of “communautés d’habitants who traditionally derive their means of existence from the forest” into French law. This was achieved on 14 April 2016 (see the French Law on Biodiversity, Focus 3 and Chaps. 7, 8 and 11). The law contains provisions favourable to the interests of these communities (Box 1).

Communities and ABS in the creation of the Park

5In order to better understand the stakes at play in terms of access to genetic resources in the Park, we must look back at the involvement of local communities in the creation of the project.

6In 1993, a memorandum of understanding for the creation of a new national park was signed in Guiana by the Departmental and Regional Councils and the Ministries for the Environment, Overseas Territories, Agriculture and Forestry. The Steering Committee established by this agreement was tasked with defining the zoning of the new park. It included representatives of the government, alongside scientists and elected officials.

7In 1994, the Commission for the Creation of the Park declared the full consent of Guiana’s indigenous populations to be an essential prerequisite to their involvement with the park project, particularly with regard to tourism in the areas occupied by these groups. Nevertheless, this appears to have been something of a formality, since none of the communities in question were represented on the Steering Committee (Leprêtre, 1998). The first draft proposal was roundly rejected by local authorities, concerned that its excessively naturalist vision neglected the importance of economic development and failed to guarantee their own powers within the governance of the future Park. Regional elected officials subsequently backed the revised proposal put forward in 1996.

8In 1998, the Amerindian and Bushinenge populations were largely sceptical or even openly opposed to the creation of the Park. They did not truly understand the issues at stake, or else feared that their freedom to access territories and resources would be curtailed (Fleury, 1998).

9On 21 June 1998, at the initiative of the Federation of Indigenous Organisations of Guiana (FOAG), a meeting bringing together Amerindian and Aluku Bushinenge customary chiefs was held in Twenké. This meeting resulted in the ‘Twenké Resolution,’ in which customary chiefs demanded that the central government and local authorities (Regional and Departmental Councils) abide by the commitments that France had made in Rio in 1992. Among them was a promise that the State would “recognise the identity, cultures and interests of indigenous peoples.” They demanded legal recognition of the customary and spiritual authorities of indigenous and traditional populations, as well as their rights to the land and its national resources.

10The second draft proposal for the Park thus gave local communities more control and decision-making power, through the intermediary of their traditional political authorities. This new version was rejected by both the national parliament and local elected officials, since it afforded preferential treatment under the law to a certain community.

11In 2006, after years of silence on the matter followed by a new round of consultations facilitated by intermediaries, the Commission for the Creation of the Park published a new draft proposal in which local and indigenous communities were given consultative power, not mentioned specifically in the executive order establishing the Park. The channels available to them to make their voices heard were the PAG and the Regional and Departmental Councils. Only the President of the Departmental Council was to be endowed the authority to issue binding decisions (see Box 1) (Fleury & Karpe, 2006).

12In terms of implementing these new arrangements, it was agreed that, at the initiative of the Conference of Regional and Departmental Representatives, the charter of this new national park should define the terms for accessing and using genetic resources. The Environmental Authority made the Park an experiment to conceive the implementation of an ABS mechanism consistent with France’s international commitments under the 1992 Convention on Biological Diversity, updated in the Nagoya Protocol of 23 October 2010. Guiana thus became the first region in France to regulate access to its genetic resources. It remained the only region with such procedures in place until 1^st January 2017.

13Although they are not afforded final decision-making authority in the executive order establishing the Park, local and indigenous communities do hold seats on its board of directors, with customary chiefs and captains serving as the official representatives of Amerindian and Bushinenge communities to the French State. Whereas among the Amerindian groups found in the south of Guiana (Wayana, Wayampi and Teko) the customary chief (or, more accurately, chief “of customs”) is not necessarily a representative or guarantor of order, among the Aluku (a Bushinenge people), the customary and spiritual chief (gaan man) unequivocally does not sit on administrative bodies of this sort. In their designated territories, it is kapten appointed by the Guianese authorities who maintain law and order and sit on the committee. The membership of the Park’s Local Community Committee, which serves as its socio-economic committee, primarily comprises local people. By 2007, at least on paper, a system of inclusive governance had been established allowing for the genuine involvement of local communities.

ABS experimentation in the Guiana Amazonian Park (2007-2018)

14Once the Park had been formally established by executive order, the task of establishing a governing charter began. This task was finally completed in 2012, and the Charter was signed by the central government and local stakeholders. In the meantime, and primarily within the Park’s Scientific Committee, work was ongoing to develop an ABS system, leading to the publication of a best practice guide for access to genetic resources.1

15In 2007, neither the Departmental nor the Regional Council had specific resources dedicated to ABS. This was despite the fact that it was the Councils who insisted upon including ABS in the executive order establishing the Park, ensuring that it was written into the PAG’s founding documents.

2007-2011: procedures not yet formalised

16In 2009, upon receiving the first request for authorisation – involving wild cocoa trees in the Trois-Sauts region, with the potential to yield a patent or commercial use – the local authorities and Park agreed upon the following procedure: the Park receives access requests from bioprospectors, checks the validity of these requests, refers them to the Scientific Committee (and, where relevant, the customary authorities) and submits their decisions to the Departmental and Local Councils.

17This first application was submitted by the French Agricultural Research Centre for International Development (CIRAD), and required two years of correspondence and interviews with the researchers behind the project before a first formal decision was reached. Three other applications also underwent the same procedure. Others “slipped through the net” due, among other reasons, to the lack of a formal procedure for cooperation between the Park and the regional authorities, and the region’s failure to respond to the Park’s overtures in this respect.

18Nonetheless, basic precautions were taken to ensure that local communities approved of the proposed research programmes, particularly in the form of preliminary consultations conducted by the Park authorities. It is worth noting that the Park also lacked specific resources allocated to the management of ABS.

2011-2012: formalised procedures

19A best practice guide given as an appendix to the Park Charter and drafted by the members of the scientific committee – including a Kali’na legal expert – has been applicable since December 2011 to all projects within the territorial scope of the French Guiana Amazonian Park.

20It applies to users seeking to access genetic resources located within the French Guiana Amazonian Park. The PAG’s scientific committee assesses project applications with reference to this guide. The Director of the Park then submits a detailed opinion to the President of the Regional Council, who is qualified to issue authorisations. It is made clear that “the procedure does not apply to customary uses or to the exchange of genetic resources and traditional knowledge within and among local and indigenous communities.”

21This best practice guide identifies four categories of bioprospecting based on purpose (commercial vs knowledge) and access (or absence of access) to traditional knowledge. It also includes an obligation to leave copies of all genetic material and information gathered with a Guianese organisation. For requests involving traditional knowledge, the Director of the Park must consult the customary authorities represented on the board of directors and local relations committee, comprising socio-economic stakeholders from across the territory. Supervision of implementation is also required. The actual content of ABS contracts, however, is not specified

22Signed in October 2012, the Charter for the Guiana Amazonian Park incorporates guidance on access to genetic resources and their use, as well as the best practice guide. Prior, informed consent from communities is required in order to access genetic resources for subsequent use, or where this access involves traditional knowledge.

23Although this best practice guide represented a major step forward, theory and practice were once again shown to be different matters. The best practice guide mentions consultation with the internal structures of the Park administration, namely the board of directors (for final approval) and the Local Community Committee, in cases involving traditional knowledge associated with genetic resources. And yet, during the meetings of these committees, local and indigenous communities do not truly participate in reaching informed decisions. Although resources are made available to facilitate the attendance of their representatives and translators, no time is devoted to genuinely preparing for the meetings with them.

24For the local authorities concerned, the Congress of Elected Officials held on 21 July 2011 expressed a desire to see an ABS mechanism put in place for the territory of Guiana as a whole, covering all biological resources and not simply genetic resources,2 in keeping with the Nagoya Protocol and contrary to the executive order establishing the Park.3 The Congress passed a resolution on access to genetic resources, biological resources and associated knowledge, as well as the sharing of resulting benefits. This resolution also encouraged the French government to ratify international agreements on the rights of indigenous peoples. There is a clear consensus here in favour of a prospective approach to working with researchers.

2012-2017: ABS structure, synergy and powerplay

25ABS measures began to take shape between 2012 and 2017, thanks in large part to the appointment of a Biodiversity Project Manager by the Guiana Region, which had now been subsumed in the Guiana Territorial Authority (CTG), following the merger of the Regional and Departmental Councils after the 2015 regional elections. The Project Manager worked in partnership with the Scientific Director of the Amazonian Park to develop an application procedure acceptable to all stakeholders.

26The ABS secretariat is responsible for receiving and examining applications, most of which come from researchers, meaning that these applications are no longer submitted via the intermediary of the Park. This process also gives applicants time to think about the consequences of their research for the territory, particularly in terms of benefit-sharing, before they are required to deal with political authorities. This preliminary dialogue phase has been crucial in allowing all involved to recognise the importance of putting a clear system in place.

27The ABS secretariat subsequently passes on applications to the ABS committee, made up of numerous territorial stakeholders (fig.1), for a consultative assessment. Their decision is passed on to the Guianese Economic, Social and Cultural Committee (CESECEG), and then to the President of the Territorial Authority for final approval.

Figure 1. Composition of the ABS committee set up by the Regional Council in 2012

28Between 2012 and 2017, 30 applications were handled. This represented a clear increase in the number of applications dealt with annually, now that a clear procedure and standard framework agreement were in place. The average processing time was between 2 and 6 months for each application. The majority of the applications received were concerned with access to genetic resources for scientific purposes, not requiring access to traditional knowledge.

29Of the 90 scientific actions supported or backed by the French Guiana Amazonian Park, forty-four have involved ABS, just four of which required access to associated traditional knowledge.

30The ABS committee, the body responsible for discussing and approving applications, has provided stakeholders who would not usually engage in dialogue with a dedicated forum for consultation and debate on the outcomes of research for the territory. It has also allowed parties who were initially sceptical about the usefulness and legitimacy of an ABS scheme to engage in constructive dialogue and develop a common language (fig. 1). Establishing this dialogue was not always easy. The two driving forces behind the ABS scheme – the CTG Project Manager and the PAG Scientific Director, neither of whom are able to focus on these matters on a full-time basis – at times bore the brunt of the frustration among researchers, who did not comprehend why the Territorial Authority should be “entitled” to judge their work and what it could bring to the region.

31Representatives of local and indigenous communities, who participated little (if at all) in the ABS committees, were largely absent until the “Couachi Affair” of 2016, when NGO Fondation France Libertés sued the IRD for registering a patent on a molecule derived from a plant used to treat malaria (see Box 1. in Chap. 12). Since 2016, the indigenous communities living on the coast have at last been actively involved in the committee, conferring greater legitimacy upon its deliberations.

Lessons and questions

The CTG-PAG-scientists triumvirate: from ABS appropriation to the acquisition of a common language

Multiple questions

32The ABS committee has been obliged to innovate relentlessly. The first task facing the committee was to reach an agreement on what precisely constitutes a genetic resource, as opposed to a biological resource, and how we define what represents access to traditional knowledge.

33For example, am I bound by the ABS mechanism if I go looking for timber in a forest inhabited by Teko indigenous groups, and they explain the properties of the wood to me? Have I thus been granted access to traditional knowledge? Do I need to request authorisation? Am I allowed to write the information down?

34Lacking legal expertise, the project managers at the Territorial Authority and the Park, both ecologists by training, attempted to draft a definition that would be acceptable to all. They soon found themselves stuck between the competing demands of scientists keen to exempt virtually everything from the scope of the ABS mechanisms, and a Territorial Authority determined to make that scope all-encompassing. They made repeated requests for legal expertise from the Territorial Authority, but progress was slow when it came to harmonising terminology and definitions to make sure that everybody understood that the law defines resources in terms of their usage.

35Next, they needed to consider potential commercial uses. For example, if a botanical garden comes to collect plants from the Amazonian Park, and then uses those cuttings to enhance its flowerbeds, for which it charges an entrance fee: how should these benefits be shared at the territorial level, even if the botanical garden in question is privately-owned?

36The third point in need of clarification was the geographical scope of the ABS mechanism. The Territorial Authority wanted to expand it to the whole of French Guiana, and mulled the possibility of applying it differently in the Park and in other areas. The Ministry for the Environment, consulted on the matter in 2014 before it had even established an ABS unit, decided to restrict the territorial applicability of rules governing access to genetic resources to the Amazonian Park itself, until such time as municipal authorities should choose to sign up to the Charter.

Common procedures

37Establishing common procedures was a gradual process, and not always a smooth one. Contrary to some of the rumours circulating, researchers attached to public institutions (mostly based in Guiana), the source of most applications, were receptive to this process, regarding the Territorial Authority as well-placed to facilitate benefit-sharing arrangements. Indeed many researchers were unaware of how to set up a benefit-sharing system in the territory, and had simply avoided the procedure, although they were not against making efforts in this direction as long as they received some help and support.

38The creation of a standard framework agreement for access to genetic resources with no commercial objective and no access to associated traditional knowledge enabled all stakeholders to agree on their respective roles, improving relations with research institutions, who were by now reassured as to the intentions of the ABS scheme. The drafting of this standard document was greatly assisted by the French National Center for Scientific Research (CNRS) legal department, who took charge of the process. As it happens, the CNRS itself had a project which had been stuck in limbo for two years, involving access to both genetic resources and associated traditional knowledge, a situation for which there was no legal precedent.

39The Guiana Territorial Authority (CTG) did a lot of work to raise awareness among researchers, particularly in the form of ABS study days and meetings between the ABS technical secretariat and the heads of relevant networks (naturalist associations, the Guianese conservatory for natural spaces, the Center for the Study of Biodiversity in Amazonia laboratory etc). These contacts then passed on the message to their peers and thus contributed to the dissemination of information.

40Moreover, the Territorial Authority abandoned their desire to control every aspect of the process and streamlined their ABS procedure. Its committees responsible for assessing applications soon developed a strong working relationship with the ABS committee, admitting that they were sometimes challenged by the seemingly abstruse technical content of some applications. This served to facilitate the procedure for the simplest cases. We can also observe the substantial efforts made by the scientific community, with a progressive simplification of the vocabulary used in applications, and a willingness to engage with questions from the ABS committee.

Considerable tension over access, not so much over benefit-sharing

41The eagerly-awaited windfall from Guiana’s “green gold” (awaited eagerly by local authorities, and sometimes by local and indigenous communities too) has failed to materialise. In fact, tensions have more frequently arisen over issues of access to territory than over benefit-sharing negotiations with the authorities, or with local and indigenous communities.

42In reality, the issue of access is only the most visible facet of a much broader debate about the legitimacy of different stakeholders – indigenous and local people, the Park, the Territorial Authority – to determine who is entitled to go where, what the benefits should be, economic or otherwise, for which territory, for whom and at what scale.

43The Guiana Territorial Authority (CTG) has at times been perceived as a killjoy by those involved in research and biodiversity, creating tensions over points of principle and stoking defiance in a manner which has occasionally made dialogue difficult. Some researchers were convinced that their very presence in Guiana was a form of benefit-sharing, since they were contributing to knowledge of the territory. The organisation of the delegations (of elected officials) by the Territorial Authority does raise questions as to the true extent of political commitment to sustainable development in the region. Although there is a “Sustainable Development and Mining” delegation, there is no such delegation for higher education and research. Furthermore, the Territorial Authority has decided to focus its human and technical resources squarely on the sustainable development of mining. Responsibility for overseeing ABS was thus delegated to the “Biodiversity Department,” which comprised a single employee in 2013, with no operating budget.

A missed opportunity to introduce community-focused protocols

44This pioneering experiment could have gone further still by introducing community-focused protocols (protocols for obtaining prior informed consent), along the lines of what has been done in Brazil (see Chap. 14) and some African countries.

45The Park has proven experience of mediation, and could have introduced community consent protocols in 2014, but instead preferred to leave this to the Guiana Territorial Authority. The latter never took up the matter, in spite of proposals from the ABS technical secretariat. This oversight appears curious, especially since the necessary financial resources were available: the gold tax, which brings in an average of €350,000 each year, was supposed to be used to fund actions in favour of biodiversity. It would thus have been interesting, in the run-up to the adoption of the Law on Biodiversity, to launch legal studies in order to clarify certain aspects relating to intellectual property, in need of such detailed analysis. Another good use of these funds would have been to organise missions to establish consent protocols with one or two communities.

46Without such community-focused protocols, and since the procedure for consulting local communities had never been formally established, even orally, it was virtually impossible for the ABS committee to offer an informed opinion on authorising access to genetic resources in cases involving associated traditional knowledge, held by very specific communities.

47As such, one authorisation request remained in limbo, batted back-and-forth between the Park, the ABS committee, the communities and the scientists, for over four years. The Park’s Local Community Committee was involved in the process (as stipulated in the best practice guide for scientific projects involving access to traditional knowledge). However, reaching agreement on the ABS principle and accompanying benefit-sharing contract proved to be an arduous affair. The first proposal was not up to standard, and was thus dismissed. The contract negotiated between the researchers and the community was simply a piece of paper to be signed by a member of the indigenous community, giving the researchers the right to conduct research for a thesis, with the main benefits to be shared consisting of the publication of a book.

48The members of the scientific committee rapidly took up the matter, playing a major role in the dissemination of ABS practices among their peers. The Local Community Committee, however, comprising socio-economic stakeholders from the territory, rarely had the opportunity to discuss issues of science and mediation, since the agendas of its meetings are often heavily overloaded.

Questions of legitimacy…

In terms of the representation of communities

49What is the validity of a decision taken collectively if all of the legitimate stakeholders are present, but only on paper, and those most directly concerned are not involved in the discussions? At the outset of this process, in the absence of representatives of local and indigenous communities, the members of the ABS committee felt isolated and illegitimate. Moreover, the indigenous organisations selected to sit on the ABS committee were not representative of the indigenous communities of southern Guiana. According to the latter, these organisations were as condescending towards them as the local and governmental authorities based on the coast. It should be noted that, in the wake of the “Couachi Affair,” representatives of Amerindian communities did return to take up their seats on the committee. However, none of these representatives belonged to the Council for Consultation with the Amerindian and Bushinenge Populations of French Guiana. This meant that the Council was not involved in the meetings of the ABS committee, casting a shadow over the legitimacy of its work.

50Other questions have been raised as to the representation of communities possessed of historical knowledge, including Creole communities. Indeed, there has thus far been no official, qualified Creole representation, comparable to that established for local and indigenous communities. The Law on Biodiversity only acknowledges the value of the knowledge held by Amerindians and Bushinenge communities, but the African-descended Creole community also has its own distinctive knowledge and expertise, and represents the dominant community in political terms. By establishing a hierarchy of traditional knowledge to be preserved, the law runs up against the primary reason cited by the French government for not granting specific rights to indigenous communities: “All French citizens are born free and with equal rights.”

In the attitude of the scientific community

51With regard to researchers, generally the most resistant to ABS schemes, the challenge has been to make it clear that the Region/ Territorial Authority was not attempting to judge the academic value of their work, but that these authorities were legitimately entitled to enquire as to what contribution their research could make to the territory. There were fiery debates between the Guiana Territorial Authority and the CNRS, with the latter reluctant to concede that participating in the annual Science Festival and publishing books is neither sufficient nor pertinent in terms of benefit-sharing. On a broader level, some researchers were unable to step back and question the actual impact of their work, if only in terms of public profile and the advancement of knowledge in Guiana. Faced with questions such as: “What has the research done on local and indigenous communities over the past thirty years contributed to the territory?” the responses and examples provided were unconvincing. This was true across all academic disciplines, from the humanities to the “hard” sciences. And yet, we know full well that French researchers understand and abide by the principles of ABS when working in other countries. CIRAD, CNRS and the IRD even published a joint guide on access to genetic resources in the Global South in 2011. Working in Guiana, on French territory, researchers apparently did not feel obliged to go through the motions.

52However, when the parties did manage to achieve a mutual understanding, they were then able to work from a shared foundation. It is worth noting that the introduction of an ABS procedure has also allowed for greater recognition of those stakeholders who were already working with best practices.

The peculiar position of the CTG

53Another source of the uncertainty hanging over ABS processes and procedures has been the strange case of the Office for Amazonian Biodiversity in Guiana (OBAG), the Territorial Authority’s enforcement arm tasked in 2016 with handling the whole ABS protocol. In actual fact, this Office was never created. In 2021, the Territorial Authority is supposedly in the process of establishing a Regional Biodiversity Agency, which could oversee a knowledge registration system, and whose precise relationship with the French Biodiversity Office (established by the Law on Biodiversity) remains to be seen.

54Furthermore, we might wonder why the Territorial Authority, in spite of its support for ABS, has not been more proactive in helping local and indigenous communities to express their prior informed consent, despite calling regularly for more benefits to be felt in the territory. The situation does appear paradoxical, since the CTG spearheaded the recognition of indigenous peoples with the launch of the Indigenous People Days, the organisation of debates on indigenous affairs, and the creation of a delegation for indigenous affairs among its territorial councillors.

Recording traditional knowledge: who and why?

55Another key question is who actually owns traditional knowledge (communities or individuals), and how best to record it. Who has access? Discussions have touched upon the field notebooks of researchers, and their access to members of local and indigenous communities, the source of the raw knowledge reproduced in those notebooks. In law, scientists retain intellectual property of the notes they take during field missions or laboratory work.

56The information-gathering required to identify which community can lay claim to which knowledge is a simply gargantuan task. We also need to reconsider the expression “knowledge held by a communauté d’habitants.” This generic expression is essentially meaningless, since experience has taught us that knowledge is primarily held by individuals. The fact that an individual from a given community shares knowledge relating to the use of a genetic resource does not mean that this knowledge is community property. Indeed, with the exception of certain forms of communal knowledge, every society has its specialists (physical and spiritual healers, craftspeople, spiritual authorities etc.), which makes it difficult to talk of “community knowledge” (see Chaps. 10, 11, 12), let alone define who owns this knowledge (Bugnot, 2018). In another interesting development, the municipality of Awala Yalimapo, a Kali’na village, has established its own development policy based upon its cultural heritage: at the request of the municipal authorities, a number of studies focusing on this heritage have been conducted by universities and the Directorate for Cultural Affairs. These studies have taken great care to involve local people.

A Law on Biodiversity perceived as an abandonment

57The French Law on Biodiversity of 2016 and its accompanying implementing decree had the effect of annulling the ABS system in place in Guiana, which had finally come to be accepted by all concerned. The Park and the Territorial Authority, having been consulted during the drafting of the bill, considered it to be unrealistic in its practical aspects, and proposed that more should be done to learn from past experiences in Guiana and the procedures already in place. These proposals fell on deaf ears at the Ministry for Ecological Transition (MTES, the ministry with responsibility for the environment). In fact, the new law introduced a simple declaration process for access to genetic resources which does not involve traditional knowledge, rather than a system of authorisations. Furthermore, it recentralises the declaration and authorisations procedures to Paris.

58Two people were recruited by the MTES in Paris to handle ABS applications for the whole of France. They did not take up their positions until 2018, leaving the whole procedure up in the air for over a year. During that time, the CTG, the Park, DEAL4 and the Sub-Prefecture for the Interior tried, in vain, to handle applications jointly and organise ABS on a local level.

59At the Assises de Guyane of October 2017, the Guiana Territorial Authority even requested legal expertise from the central government, so that it would be free to manage access to genetic resources as it previously did. The CTG also refused to act as the local administrative authority responsible for issuing ABS authorisations, since the new legal framework fails to take into account both the specificities of the territory and the pre-existing framework, which represented the fruit of years of hard work.

Conclusion

60The sense of experimentation which attended the creation of the French Guiana Amazonian Park enabled numerous stakeholders to enter into constructive dialogue. The work was done transparently, with the human and financial resources available. There was a certain amount of “administrative improvisation,” negotiations and tensions, but the whole process helped to boost the ABS expertise of all involved.

61One of the first consequences of this experience was the warm welcome reserved for the Law on Biodiversity of 2016 by the local scientific community, already well-accustomed to cooperation. However, while the local scientific community was well-informed of the administrative work required of them, researchers travelling from metropolitan France to work in Guiana have sometimes been less receptive to ABS procedures, questioning their usefulness.

62This process of experimentation with ABS, which demanded considerable effort in light of the scarcity of available resources, finally yielded a working ABS mechanism for the French Guiana Amazonian Park. The experience was rewarding and productive. And yet, this delicately-poised balance of formal and tacit agreements was swept away by the introduction of the Law on Biodiversity in 2016.

63This unprecedented endeavour, which forced all involved to forget about “Business as usual,” also raised some profound questions about the status and involvement of local and indigenous communities, supposed to be the prime beneficiaries of such initiatives. As far back as 1941, Prefect Robert Vignon was already pushing the idea that indigenous and local communities were in need to development, and attempting to “accelerate” the development of Guiana’s most isolated corners (Navet, 1998). That meant more schools in villages far from the coast, and the advance of monetarisation, developments which in many cases served to aggravate the disintegration of local communities. Even now, these communities are not represented in positions of responsibility within scientific and naturalist institutions, despite the emergence of a generation determined to exert their rights. This new generation is now ready to make its voice heard, faced as it is with a system that has been unwilling (or unable) to understand. Neighbouring countries who have already introduced community-oriented protocols provide sources of inspiration and support, as Guianese communities continue to speak out and stand up for their rights in every area of their lives.

References

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65Dessauw D., Felmann P. et al., 2011 – Lignes directrices pour l’accès aux ressources génétiques et leur transfert. Paris, Cirad, 59 p.

66Fleury M., 1998 – Les populations du Haut-Maroni et le projet de Parc national de la Guyane. Journal d’agriculture traditionnelle et de botanique appliquée, 1-2: 577-610.

67Fleury m., Karpe p., 2006 – Le parc national de Guyane : un arbitrage difficile entre intérêts divergents. Journal de la Société des américanistes, 92 (1-2). https://journal.openedition.org/jsa/3210

68Leprêtre L., 1998 – Les Amérindiens wayana et la mise en place du projet de Parc national guyanais. Journal d’agriculture traditionnelle et de botanique appliquée, 1-2: 559-576. https://doi.org/10.3406/jatba.1998.3692

69Navet É., 1998 – Le Parc de la forêt tropicale guyanaise : espace de vie ou dernier avatar du colonialisme ? Journal d’agriculture traditionnelle et de botanique appliquée, 1-2: 329-354. https://doi.org/10.3406/jatba.1998.3677