Behind this dry acronym lies a model of Indigenous governance that is unprecedented in Latin America. It is one of the few cases in the world where Indigenous communities can play an official, legally defined and active role in managing and protecting coastal environments, in ways that take their worldview into account.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
ECMPOs are legal frameworks that grant Indigenous communities the power to administer marine areas. Their aim is to protect ancestral claims to the use of such territories, and to promote sustainable management and conservation. Today, there are 31 active ECMPOs and around a hundred applications under consideration according to FIMA, a Chilean environmental NGO. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
This model now faces its greatest political challenge. A few weeks after taking office, Chile\u2019s new government, under president Jos\u00e9 Antonio Kast, announced<\/a> it would seek to amend the Lafkenche Law to facilitate industrial development.<\/p>\n\n\n\n For communities that have built their lives upon this law in recent years, the threat is existential.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Patricio Colivoro is the werk\u00e9n<\/em> of the Mon Yen community of Yaldad, an ancestral role that primarily functions as a line of communication with outsiders. Together with neighbouring groups, they have participated in the creation of three ECMPOs since 2016. <\/p>\n\n\n\n They lie in the Chilo\u00e9 archipelago, a group of islands in southern Chile that have long hosted the Mapuche Williche culture \u2014 a branch of the Indigenous Mapuche people. Local people have developed distinctive architecture: wooden-tiled roofs and houses built on stilts to raise them above the water. Colivoro says the ECMPO has helped preserve this: \u201cThe ecological niches of certain species that were disappearing from these areas have been restored. Today, they are showing positive signs of development. Other stakeholders along the coastline recognise and value this management body, which has actively engaged the local community.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n ECMPOs operate within a common legal framework, but their use depends on each community administration. In the case of Chilo\u00e9, small-scale fishing, traditional shellfish gathering and shore-based harvesting of seaweed continue, alongside the community\u2019s use of the coastline for cultural and spiritual practices.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Contrary to what has been claimed by some critics, the ECMPO does not demarcate Indigenous private property. Nor does it grant total exclusivity to any particular community, or prohibit economic development.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Colivoro believes the success of the ECMPOs is due to the ocean experience of the communities involved, and because they position leaders from those communities as key players in the management and administration of these coastal areas.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Colivoro adds, however, that overcoming discrimination remains a challenge. He says his community still encounters racist attitudes and prejudice from some institutions and companies operating in Chilo\u00e9: \u201cOur administrative capacity, our productive capacity, and our ability to harmonise the interests of the various parties involved in the coastal zone are all called into question.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Creating an ECMPO is a complex process. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNot many have managed to reach that stage because the processing times are quite long,\u201d explains Karla Vargas Arancibia, a lawyer and FIMA\u2019s head of territorial processes. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThere are instances where certain situations or obstacles have had to be taken to court. For example, when we talk about the admissibility of an application, or regarding whether or not a certain customary use [by Indigenous people] is recognised.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n Arancibia says the requisite costs can also be an issue: \u201cBeing able to submit an application, gather information, have an anthropologist prepare the report required for the application, and so on.\u201d The community is also required to execute the management of their ECMPO without state funding or support.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The key decision on granting an ECMPO is made by bodies that are essentially political: Regional Coastal Zone Use Commissions (CRUBCs<\/a>). These are composed of around 40 people, such as mayors, representatives from civil society groups and various government departments, and, in some cases, Indigenous representatives. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Figures on approval rates are hard to come by but in 2024, 80% of ECMPO applications were rejected following a vote at the commission stage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Prior to the Lafkenche Act, the Chilean system pressured communities to organise themselves around artisanal fishing unions. This rendered Indigenous practices invisible, because the unions had no need for or interest in it. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Dialogue Earth spoke to Yohana Co\u00f1uecar Llancapani, a Mapuche Williche leader originally from Llanchid Island, part of the Hualaihu\u00e9 commune. She says ECMPOs, in contrast to the fishing unions, have provided a safe platform for discussing Indigenous culture, language, the economy, organisation and politics. Co\u00f1uecar Llancapani is the territorial coordinator of the Network of Indigenous Women for the Defence of the Sea (RDM<\/a>). The organisation brings together women from different generations, Indigenous peoples, and professions and trades related to the sea.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n She says the implementation of ECMPOs has helped to revive language, spirituality, traditional medicine and navigational knowledge, and to place value on activities like fishing and gathering. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhen we participate in international conferences and say \u2018I come from coastal marine areas\u2019, that catches people\u2019s attention,\u201d Co\u00f1uecar Llancapani explains. \u201cChile has introduced this special concept into international discourse. But also, when we explain that those of us who make up these areas are women, that creates another point of focus that attracts attention, and it also opens up the possibility of coordinating with other movements of Indigenous communities or communities of women fishers.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n This has in turn highlighted institutional gaps that persist. For example, the lack of women\u2019s toilets in fishing villages, and sexist attitudes among some of their male colleagues.<\/p>\n\n\n\n One of the biggest sources of conflict in Chile\u2019s coastal waters is salmon farms.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Chile is second<\/a> in the world when it comes to farmed salmon production. The industry is valued at over USD 6 billion in annual exports. It has grown rapidly in recent decades, particularly along the southern coasts and waterways where Indigenous communities live. \u201cFrom a spiritual perspective, our sea is under constant threat, both from salmon farming and from mining companies seeking to exploit or expropriate Indigenous lands and wipe us out,\u201d claims P\u00e9rsida Cheuquenao. He is president of Lafkenche Territorial Identity (ITL), an Indigenous organisation bringing together Mapuche communities that have established or applied for ECMPOs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n These communities are spread across Chile\u2019s vast southern region, from the Gulf of Arauco in the Biob\u00edo region, to the Palena area in the Los Lagos region. The area is rich in biodiversity, including whales, dolphins, sea lions and otters, fish and shellfish. They aim to use ECMPOs to develop traditional maritime work where there has historically been significant industrial and fishing activity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Although the Lafkenche Law is now held up as an example by many experts for other countries to follow, the national outlook has become uncertain since Kast took office on 11 March. <\/p>\n\n\n\n While president-elect, Kast said<\/a> Chile could become \u201cthe leading global salmon power\u201d. <\/p>\n\n\n\n He also questioned the Lafkenche Law: \u201cIt hinders port development, shipyard development, the development of the salmon industry and other fishing industries; it creates conflict between artisanal fishing and communities that did not previously exist. That is due to the misinterpretation and misuse of a law.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n At the end of March, the fisheries undersecretary Osvaldo Urrutia announced<\/a> he would push for changes to the law: \u201cIt was not anticipated that such small communities would request such large portions of the sea; there is a disproportion that needs correcting.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nProgress and obstacles<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
This southern corner of Chile is home to multiple fragile ecosystems. It hosts a wealth of biodiversity and unique species such as the Chilote fox (Lycalopex fulvipe<\/em>) and Darwin\u2019s frog (Rhinoderma darwinii<\/em>). These landscapes are also notable for lush forests, where millennia-old larch trees and myrtles thrive. <\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"Darwin's](\"https:\/\/dialogue.earth\/content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/darwin-frog_Chiloe-Island_Chile_Alan-Dykes_Alamy-A0KT9X.jpg\")
<\/div>Jumping through hoops<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
A platform for culture<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Chile has introduced this special concept
The threat of salmon<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Salmon farming can bring jobs and money. But environmental organisations and local communities have been documenting<\/a> the negative effects of this expansion, such as water pollution and the proliferation of toxic algae.<\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"salmon](\"https:\/\/dialogue.earth\/content\/uploads\/2026\/05\/Salmon-farming_Chilean-Patagonia_Sergio-Salazar_Greenpeace.jpg\")
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