Covas do Barroso: Europe is rushing for lithium, but resistance is local

Lithium may be at the heart of the green transition, but the extraction of this metallic element also causes damage to natural environments. In Portugal, a country rich in lithium, modest rural communities join the national outrage against government agreements that ignore local economies and threaten livelihoods.

At first glance, Covas do Barroso, nestled among green mountains in northern Portugal, is nothing more than a handful of stone houses gathered at the intersection of two roads. The village, with about 150 inhabitants, has livestock and agriculture traditions as the basis of its local economy. But the lands of Covas do Barroso are also valuable for another reason: they are rich in lithium reserves. And, since 2016, Savannah Resources, a British company that only has Barroso in its portfolio, has been developing plans for an open-pit mine in the area. The company estimates that the mine could be operated for 12 years, employing up to 250 workers and providing enough lithium for 500,000 electric car batteries per year.

A controversial agreement

Portugal is known as the largest and, in fact, the only significant lithium production site in the European Union. So far, the country's lithium has only been extracted in combination with feldspar to supply the ceramic industry. But the growth of global lithium production, linked to battery manufacturing, especially for electric vehicles, has driven the development of a specific supply chain within the EU. Under its Critical Raw Materials Law, the European Commission stipulated that, by 2030, at least 10 percent of Europe's demand for critical raw materials like lithium must be met from domestic sources. In Portugal, mining companies have received approval for new projects in areas such as Barroso, Romano, Alvarrões, and Argemela. And there are pending exploration requests in many other parts of the country.

Portugal is known as the largest and, in effect, the only significant lithium production site in the European Union. The European Commission stipulates that, by 2030, at least 10% of Europe's demand for critical raw materials like lithium must be satisfied from internal sources.

The Portuguese Environment Agency gave its preliminary approval to the environmental impact assessment of the Barroso project at the end of May 2023, and construction was scheduled to begin in 2024. But many residents believe that Savannah Resources' mine should not be built. From the beginning, local residents opposed to the project founded Unidos em Defence of Covas do Barroso (UDCB), a local association that organizes protests, assemblies, camping protests, and legal actions.

The mining plan is also highly controversial among the broader population of the region. And, in Portugal, mining is more than a local issue: exploration concessions in Barroso and Montalegre were at the center of a corruption investigation that led to searches in parliamentary offices in November 2023 and resulted in the resignation of then-Prime Minister António Costa. The banner welcoming visitors to Covas do Barroso says “No to Mines, Yes to Life,” and raises unavoidable questions about the global model of the green transition.

In defense of Barroso

Vila Real, northeastern Portugal, October 24, 2023. The room B.02 at the University of Trás-os-Montes and Alto Douro is full. All attention is on the first speaker at a public debate organized by the Transdisciplinary Studies Center for Development (CETRAD): “My name is Nelson Gomes and I live in Covas do Barroso.” As president of UDCB, Nelson explains that the mines would completely disturb the valley environment and the lives of its inhabitants. “They accuse us of not being willing to sacrifice ourselves for the planet,” says Nelson, “but we have already sacrificed ourselves with our way of life and our agriculture.”

The audience consists of students, teachers, researchers, interested people. “It's a falsehood to talk about a fair green transition,” says Mariana Riquito, researcher at the University of Coimbra. “It cannot be fair if it does not respect the autonomy of local populations. It cannot be a transition if, to implement it, fossil fuel consumption is intensified. It cannot be green if it only considers the problem of emissions and not the consequences of the mining and extractive industry.”

“It's a falsehood to talk about a fair green transition,” says Mariana Riquito, researcher at the University of Coimbra. “It cannot be fair if it does not respect the autonomy of local populations.”

An audience member asks if the mine project could still represent an opportunity for development in the area. Nelson calmly responds that “Covas do Barroso has been a World Agricultural Heritage site by the FAO [Food and Agriculture Organization] since 2018. The mine is incompatible with the area's development. They talk to us about compensation, minimization, landscape recovery. But the relationship with nature is the only reason to live in such an isolated place. What development is possible for an area where no one would want to live?”

According to Nelson, the mining project has vast implications: “We need to question the energy transition as a model centered on extractivism.” The alternatives, says Nelson, would include developing public transportation, even in rural areas, instead of simply replacing private fossil-fuel cars with electric ones. “Keep in mind,” warns Nelson, “that such an imposition could one day happen to you, where you live.”

“They talk to us about compensation, minimization, landscape recovery. But the relationship with nature is the only reason to live in such an isolated place. What development is possible for an area where no one would want to live?”, asks Nelson Gomes, president of Unidos em Defesa de Covas do Barroso.

Local impacts

A stream, fuller after rains, runs over the road leading to the village of Alijó. “I come here because I can use some of the pastures for the cattle,” says Paulo, a shepherd with 170 sheep. His business, like that of other shepherds and farmers in Covas do Barroso, is threatened by lithium mining. “Part of my land risks being included in the mine area. Where am I going to take the sheep to graze then?”

Paulo fears that the valley's water sources will be compromised: “With the drilling, some farmers are already complaining about the lack of water in the wells. What will happen to the drinking troughs and streams?”

Although recognizing the need for an energy transition, Paulo considers it important to broaden the view: “Of course lithium is needed for batteries. But we should ask ourselves what we use this energy for. Will lithium make consumerism sustainable? And what green transition are we talking about if we destroy green spaces? Look,” he exclaims with a laugh, “here everything is green!”

We need to question the energy transition as a model centered on extractivism.

“We opposed the lithium mine from the beginning,” says the [original date of this article] mayor of Boticas, Fernando Queiroga, sitting at his desk at the municipal headquarters responsible for Covas do Barroso, nearly 20 km from the village. “It’s a different kind of mining activity from what already existed in the area,” he explains. “It can affect the living conditions and health of our community members.” Like Paulo, he considers that the area's freshwater supply, especially underground sources, is a key concern: “We are very alarmed because there is a risk that mining will compromise the water table.”

“They say that a sparsely populated area can only benefit from such a project,” Queiroga says with a sarcastic smile, “but if we look at the lithium value chain—beyond mining—battery production, electric car manufacturing, and finally battery recycling—all these industrial activities will be handled elsewhere. Nothing will stay here.” Regarding the region's future prospects, he uses straightforward words: “Within our reach, we will not give permits. If the government decides to proceed, it risks facing popular revolt.”

“When I opened, over twenty years ago, the village was lively,” says the elderly owner of Covas's only café. “Now there are fewer and fewer inhabitants. Even the school closed a long time ago.” Faced with inexorable depopulation, the café owner perhaps hopes that the mining project will bring development and new customers, and is less critical than most other local residents. “My café is for everyone, I don’t take sides on the lithium issue!”

But, at the door, a customer with a drink in hand expresses a different opinion: “Of course some sold their land [to the mine project]. But how can you abandon everything? With that kind of money, it’s not possible to move and start a new life,” he says.

The resistance

“Now it’s fine!” Mariana, who just finished cleaning the entrance of the old primary school of Covas do Barroso with her friend Paloma, seems satisfied with their work. Closed for many years, the building has been reborn as A Sachola, thanks to the initiative of young people who, like them, moved here to support the fight against mining. The banner at the entrance reads Solidarity Anti-Extractivist Meeting. “We have to finish preparing the space,” Mariana explains, pointing to the large indoor room. “In a week, we will have a film screening. We want this space to be a meeting and socializing point for the villagers but, at the same time, a gathering place between the local community and outsiders.”

Aida Fernandes, president of the land association of Covas do Barroso, Baldios, is committed to protecting the most threatened communal land areas from mining projects. “Savannah bought some land, but there is a lot of drilling happening in the communal lands, especially in the forests,” Aida explains. “We want to stop the works, claiming the use of these lands for the community.”

In recent years, many people have come to Covas do Barroso to learn about the struggles of its inhabitants. Aida recounts how exchange situations are often reciprocal: “In October [2023], we participated in an international meeting against mining in Spain because it is important to stand united against such a powerful adversary.”

Winning the war

The massive lithium reserve exploration projects have sparked protests among residents of many rural areas in Portugal. As in Barroso, committees and movements have also formed in Serra da Estrela, Argemela, and Penalva, just to name a few. A plurality of voices has united on several occasions: in joint demonstrations in Lisbon, in assemblies in Coimbra and other places, and in an annual anti-mining protest camp in Covas do Barroso.

From the Miradouro do Olhar do Guerreiro, it is possible to see the entire valley. The drilling areas, partially covered by vegetation, are visible everywhere. Aida points to a spot southeast of the village, a stretch of pine trees on a hillside. “That is the area where they are really concentrating. It seems to be the richest [in lithium],” she says. “Just think, that whole area will become an open-pit mine. It will be excavated up to 150 meters deep, with a diameter of 500 meters. 80 percent of the material will be waste. The remaining 20 percent will have to be washed, including chemically, to extract the lithium contained there.”

Recently, the fight against lithium extraction in Covas do Barroso has received broad support from various sectors of society. “This is not about delaying works and achieving small results,” Aida says with determination. “It's not enough to win battles. We need to win the war!”

As the sun sets, a farmer crosses the village square, leading his cows to the barn with a hoe over his shoulder. On one side is the sports field, where the anti-lithium mining protest camp was held; numerous colorful banners hang on the fence. They shout against mining, for village life, water, and nature. Right across, on the other side of the square, is the small Savannah office, hidden behind a dark door, monitored by cameras.