LONDON — Water is never just a resource. It is a power that binds communities. For many Indigenous peoples, water is kin, ancestor, teacher, and law. Yet the way modern governments manage water—through permits, infrastructure, extraction rights, and market mechanisms—has often ignored the rights and deep-rooted responsibilities of Indigenous nations. While officials frequently affirm that Indigenous involvement is important, we have lacked a clear, global picture of how much (or how well) Indigenous peoples are actually included in the systems that govern rivers, aquifers, and watersheds.
A new study published in Nature Water begins to fill that gap. Titled “A systematic review of Indigenous peoples’ participation in dominant systems of water governance,” the research offers one of the most comprehensive overviews to date of how Indigenous communities engage with government-run water systems. Far from advocacy scholarship, the study is a methodologically rigorous review of existing research, carefully framed and transparent about its limits. Its central finding is both sobering and hopeful: Indigenous peoples are participating in dominant water governance systems across the globe, but too often in constrained, procedural ways. And yet, despite those constraints, they are influencing and reshaping water governance at every level.
Lake Okeechobee is the largest freshwater lake in the U.S. state of Florida. [Photo Credit: S. Ciotti]
The researchers did not conduct new fieldwork. Instead, they undertook a systematic review, gathering and analyzing peer-reviewed scholarship from major academic databases. Out of more than 1,800 initial results, they narrowed the field to 226 relevant articles and extracted 183 distinct real-world case studies spanning 15 countries. Each case was categorized according to how Indigenous peoples participated (through litigation, consultation, partnership, protest, or representation), at what level participation occurred (local, regional, federal, international, or transboundary), and whether Indigenous knowledge or values were meaningfully incorporated.
By systematically coding and comparing these cases, the researchers identified global patterns. One of the most striking findings is that participation is frequently procedural rather than transformative. In many cases, Indigenous communities are consulted, but not empowered. They are invited to comment, but not to decide. They are recognized symbolically, while authority remains elsewhere.
Legal engagement and resistance were among the most common forms of participation. In other words, Indigenous nations are often forced into courtrooms or protest movements to defend water rights rather than being acknowledged as governing authorities from the outset.
The pattern is familiar: when systems are built on extraction and control, those who understand water as sacred must struggle simply to be heard.
The consequences of colonialism are prevalent throughout the findings. In settler-colonial states such as Australia, Canada, the United States, and New Zealand, colonial water laws frequently redefined rivers and aquifers as property or economic assets, severing longstanding Indigenous governance systems. Participation in these contexts often takes the form of navigating, challenging, or negotiating within structures that were never designed to recognize Indigenous sovereignty. The study carefully notes the tension in examining participation within “dominant” systems: acknowledging the flaws of the system without inadvertently validating it. It is, as the authors describe, a delicate balance.
Importantly, the review does not portray Indigenous peoples as passive recipients of policy. Quite the opposite. The researchers explicitly state that “Indigenous peoples are influencing and reshaping dominant water governance at all levels.” From local watershed collaborations to federal court cases and international human rights forums, Indigenous nations are actively asserting jurisdiction, reframing legal arguments, and bringing relational understandings of water into spaces that often prioritize technical or economic metrics.
Image credit: rony michaud from Pixabay
At the global scale, however, participation remains under-documented and poorly analyzed. The study identified only a small number of case studies addressing Indigenous engagement in international forums such as the World Water Forum or proceedings before the Inter-American Human Rights Court. While there is evidence that Indigenous communities are bringing their concerns to these arenas, sometimes crafting their own declarations and challenging hegemonic water norms, the academic literature has not adequately examined how effective or influential that participation has been.
Another revealing gap lies in evaluation. Only a minority of the reviewed case studies assessed whether participation was meaningful or equitable. Even fewer explicitly examined whether Indigenous knowledge systems were incorporated in non-extractive ways. Inclusion, the study suggests, does not automatically equal justice. Being present at the table is not the same as holding authority over one’s waters.
This distinction matters deeply. Many contemporary environmental governance models emphasize “stakeholder engagement.” But Indigenous nations are not stakeholders in their ancestral waters: they are rights-holders and, in many traditions, original lawgivers. The language of stakeholder inclusion can unintentionally flatten sovereignty into consultation.
The review also highlights a geographic imbalance in scholarship. Most published research focuses on Western settler-colonial countries, with far less attention paid to Indigenous water struggles in Africa or Asia. That imbalance does not mean those struggles are absent; rather, it underscores whose experiences are most visible in academic discourse.
As for the implications of these findings, the researchers remain cautious. They do not prescribe a single solution. Instead, they identify research gaps and call for deeper examination of scale, authority, and procedural justice. By pointing out where participation is superficial or inadequately studied, they aim to push the conversation forward, specifically toward governance systems that do not merely “include” Indigenous peoples but recognize them as rightful authorities over their waters.
For communities that understand water as sacred, this review affirms both a hard truth and a living reality. Colonial systems have often marginalized Indigenous governance, reducing relational water law to technical management. Yet Indigenous nations continue to assert their responsibilities to water, through courts, alliances, partnerships, and ceremonies alike. The study does not romanticize this struggle. It shows that participation is uneven and often constrained. But it also documents persistence, adaptation, and influence.
The Wild Hunt is not responsible for links to external content.
To join a conversation on this post:
Visit our The Wild Hunt subreddit! Point your favorite browser to https://www.reddit.com/r/The_Wild_Hunt_News/, then click “JOIN”. Make sure to click the bell, too, to be notified of new articles posted to our subreddit.