From Sinai's coral reefs to global climate action: Ahmed El Droubi’s 20 years of fighting for environmental justice

Fourteen years ago, Egypt witnessed one of the most significant political events in its modern history. But as the January 2011 revolution was unfolding, another foundational change was taking place in the Red Sea governorate. Environmentalist Ahmed El Droubi was at the helm of an 800-strong team, establishing the long-awaited solid waste management system that had been two decades in the making.

“I put my head underwater, and it was like discovering another world, observing the interplay between life in all shapes, colors, and forms. Strange animals that look like plants give life to the entire Red Sea. It was fascinating, and I wanted to keep enjoying it,” Droubi recalls.

 Droubi, 42, has been working in the environmental field–locally and internationally–for over 20 years. Described by his colleagues as “a born campaigner, the type of person who can mobilize a room before the coffee is even served,” he spent 18-20 hours a day to rid the cities of Hurghada and Marsa Alam of their garbage crisis. He was only aware of the scale of the demonstrations in Cairo’s Tahrir Square when he took time off three days into the beginning of the end of President Hosni Mubarak’s era.

Droubi immediately went back home and joined the protests, on January 28, Jumaa al Ghadab, the "Friday of Anger," in hope of participating in the creation of a better political, economic, and social landscape for Egypt.

His story started at the Red Sea, when, as a teenager, Droubi went on his first dive in Sinai’s Ras Mohammed protectorate, known for its breathtaking coral reef and other life-supporting ecosystems.

“I put my head underwater, and it was like discovering another world, observing the interplay between life in all shapes, colors, and forms. Strange animals that look like plants give life to the entire Red Sea. It was fascinating, and I wanted to keep enjoying it,” Droubi recalls.

He then came to realize how fragile this delicate balance is, how it has massive repercussions on human society, and how fragile the human species is to the destruction of this ecosystem.

The environmental conversation, for Droubi, shifted from being merely concerned with “protecting the polar bears and penguins,” to one about closing the unjust gap between the Global North and the Global South, one against neoliberal and neocolonial practices. He went on to study biology, with a focus on marine ecology. During his university years, he taught science to children, instructed in summer camps, and interned in research labs, raising mosquitos and feeding snakes.

The 2011 uprising was not Droubi’s first brush with political participation. Droubi has been vocal about his views ever since the second Palestinian Intifada in 2000, when he was a freshman at university. When the United States invaded Iraq in 2003, he organized demonstrations against the war. His battles against authoritarianism and colonialism took form.

Droubi kicked off his career in 2005 as an environmental consultant, which he regards as an eye-opening experience. Traveling around Egypt, he conducted environmental impact assessments for various private and public projects in numerous sectors, which unraveled the intersectionality of environmental issues “with everything.” In the late 1990s and early 2000s, there was a growing space for civil society. The Mubarak government had strongly secured its position, Droubi believes, and felt stable enough to open the space up “to serve its reputation.”.

However, it was not without its challenges, with funding issues topping the list.

Droubi was working with a small eco-tourism organization in 2006, based in the middle of the desert eight kilometers from the coast. Camels, and a Land Rover with one intact door, were the only means of transportation. Arriving at a former USAID project site to meet the head of a Sinai protectorate, his barely functional car stood in stark contrast to the modern GMCs and speedboats he spotted there. Assuming they would use one of these assets, he was surprised when the official joined him in his beat-up vehicle instead.

None of the “ultra expensive assets” were usable, Droubi explains. The project had prioritized buying US-made gear over locally practical solutions, leaving them with equipment that couldn’t be maintained or fueled with Egypt’s resources, according to Droubi.

“It demonstrated how the actual goal of most foreign-funded projects is to reinforce soft power, and to push for political influence and policy imposition. Local support and development are secondary goals.”

Finding ethical funding remains a critical issue in the field till today, Droubi says.

With Droubi’s unwavering connection to the Red Sea, he moved into the field of conservation in 2010, working with the Hurghada Environmental Protection and Conservation Association (HEPCA) to develop reef management plans, run several campaigns against unsustainable practices, and put together and implement the solid waste management systems.

After Mubarak stepped down, freedom of speech was at its highest, and civil society was thriving. Droubi remembers a time when “there was space for us to have conversations, to protest, to publish, to speak in the media, and to have space for advocacy.”

Given the chance, he “found a lot of expertise and allyship in civil servants, who understand the depths of environmental issues and the implications of different policies, and understand that that policies that seem to bring financial benefits, mainly to a few business people, have terrible repercussions on society, on farmers, on fisherfolk, on public health, and so on.”

In 2013, when there was an energy crisis in Egypt and profits were suffering because of the lack of supply of gas to their factories, industrialists heavily lobbied the government to begin importing coal, an effort led by the cement industry. Droubi left his job in an international organization to co-found the “Egyptians Against Coal” movement, and spent a year and a half coordinating the campaign alongside other volunteers. Collaborating with several NGOs, academics, and youth activists, the movement gained significant traction and was discussed in wide swaths of society.

"One of the greatest moments was when communications started emerging in the name of Egyptians Against Coal that had nothing to do with us. Others had decided to take up the issue independently, and it felt amazing that we had lit a spark that spread. People who were previously uninvolved in climate or environmental issues became engaged.”

While the movement was not able to stop the introduction of coal to the country’s energy mix, it succeeded in drawing attention to its adverse impacts. The regulations being put on the import of coal were “far more stringent than they would have been” without the public outcry, Droubi remarks, noting that, as well, plans to build two power plants fueled by coal were eventually canceled.

“Working as an activist is a bit of an oxymoron. The image of NGO workers speaking English and receiving foreign funding is a cliché of what environmentalists are in Egypt. The work I find most significant in environmentalism is the work led by local communities,” Droubi holds.

Another highlight of the environmentalist’s career came around a decade later, this time on the international stage.

“When you leave here and head back to your capitals, you need to secure concrete mandates for COP27 […] No more empty words,” Droubi, then a Regional Campaigns Manager with Greenpeace Middle East and North Africa, urged governments while delivering a COP inter-sessional closing speech in June 2022.

And that, the negotiators did.

At Copenhagen’s COP15, in 2009, $100 billion annually in climate finance was promised to developing countries until 2020. However, “the Global North has fallen far short of these commitments,” Droubi notes, explaining that “an overwhelming percentage of this funding came in the form of loans, which further burden countries in the Global South, deepening their debt and creating greater incentives for fossil fuel extraction, thereby exacerbating the rapidly accelerating phenomenon of climate change.”

COP27 in Sharm El Sheikh ended with “one of the most important decisions” in the global climate conference’s history, to his, and everyone’s pleasant surprise. The establishment of a Loss and Damage Fund was approved.

“It was a moment of utter disbelief. We were so happy and shocked by the success, especially since, until a few months earlier, the Loss and Damage Fund was not even a priority. It happened so quickly, we barely clapped as people usually do in these sessions,” Droubi reminisces about the memory.

Despite some “mistakes” at COP27, like “the excessive security presence that only invited more criticism” of Egypt, and made members of civil society “extremely uncomfortable,” Droubi describes how great it was to see Egyptian climate negotiators connecting with civil society, and recognizing the opportunity to hold the Global North accountable for its historic responsibility.

“We're talking about massive amounts of money owed, with estimates exceeding $190 trillion needing to be paid between now and 2050.”

In parallel to advocating for historic polluters to pay, Droubi calls for dismantling the global economic system that perpetuates inequality and reinforces the flow of capital from the Global South to the Global North. At Copenhagen’s COP15, in 2009, $100 billion annually in climate finance was promised to developing countries until 2020. However, “the Global North has fallen far short of these commitments,” Droubi notes, explaining that “an overwhelming percentage of this funding came in the form of loans, which further burden countries in the Global South, deepening their debt and creating greater incentives for fossil fuel extraction, thereby exacerbating the rapidly accelerating phenomenon of climate change.”

The Loss and Damage Fund was established the next year at COP28 in Dubai, where Droubi could be seen in a Palestinian keffiyeh scarf at all times. Taking place well into the genocide in Gaza, he never failed to draw parallels between war, exploitation, and the climate crisis at the conference.

After Mubarak stepped down, freedom of speech was at its highest, and civil society was thriving. Droubi remembers a time when “there was space for us to have conversations, to protest, to publish, to speak in the media, and to have space for advocacy.”

"I have had absurd conversations with people from the Global North who say things like, 'The climate crisis is so urgent that we need to act now. Yes, I understand that people in the South live in poverty, there is energy poverty in Africa, and undemocratic governments limit human rights. But, you know, these people have been living like this for a long time. Let's fix the climate crisis first, and then we can address these issues later.'”

This “blatant hypocrisy is seen over and over again,” Droubi says, expounding: “Watching the news, you would think Europe and the Global North are so advanced in their climate action, with their celebrities going to talk to the ‘ignorant’ African governments to convince them to use solar panels.”

However, for example, under the Biden administration, which touted its climate leadership, rendered the United States, the largest historical emitter, among the top 10 countries planning to expand fossil fuel production by 2050. The group also includes Canada, the UK, Australia, and Norway.

When Droubi is not advocating for a better world, the father of two young girls can often be found tinkering in the kitchen. “I grew up in a family that made everything from scratch—yogurt, vinegar, cheese, and molasses—to ensure we had good, healthy ingredients.”

Cooking connects to the older generations of his family, allowing him to learn from their experiences and keep his cultural heritage alive. “Food is an expression of appreciation for nature, my community, my history, my people, and the ties that bind them all together,” he says.

To those wanting to go into the same profession, Droubi advises to “be cautious of the narrative that cements the image that environmentalism is a privilege. Instead, focus on the rights of vulnerable communities that have been exploited and will continue to bear the brunt of environmental and climate degradation."

Battling long odds, Droubi dreams of the day where global justice prevails, and when he lives by the sea again.

“The Red Sea is embedded in me.”