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When Rivers Speak: Reimagining Nature’s Legal Voice in South Africa

Authored By:Amahle Monica Mnguni

University of Zululand

Abstract 

In the murmuring pulse of South Africa’s rivers and the ancestral stillness of its forests lies an unanswered legal question: what if nature is not merely a backdrop to human life, but a rights-bearing entity with its own voice? This article journeys into the bold, rapidly globalising movement to recognise the legal personhood of nature, an approach that transforms ecosystems from objects of regulation into subjects of rights. Anchored in the spirit of the African Renaissance, which calls for the revival of indigenous worldviews and a return to African relationality with land, the paper argues that ecological personhood is not a foreign import but a rediscovery of deeply rooted African philosophies that honour nature as living, sacred and interconnected. Drawing on Section 24 of the Constitution, customary law traditions and comparative jurisprudence from New Zealand, Colombia and Latin America, the article examines whether South Africa’s legal landscape can sustain this paradigm shift. Ultimately, it contends that granting rights to rivers, forests, and ecosystems offers a transformative, decolonial pathway toward environmental justice, community empowerment and a renewed harmony between people and the natural world. A revival fitting for an Africa imagining itself anew.

 

Introduction

In the gentle currents of South Africa’s rivers, like the striking pink waters of the Isinuka River in the Eastern Cape and the quiet resilience of its ancient landscapes lies a question that challenges the very foundations of our legal imagination: can nature itself be a rights-bearing entity? Around the world, the movement to grant legal personhood to rivers, forests and entire ecosystems has gained remarkable momentum, disrupting traditional assumptions about ownership, governance, and humanity’s relationship with the natural world. From the Whanganui River in New Zealand to the Atrato River in Colombia, courts and legislatures are beginning to recognise nature not as an object of regulation but as a subject capable of holding rights and demanding protection.

This article explores whether South Africa armed with one of the most progressive constitutions in the world can take a similar step. Rooted in the ideals of the African Renaissance and guided by indigenous worldviews that conceive of land and water as living relatives, this work argues that ecological personhood is not a foreign legal experiment but a concept deeply resonant with African philosophies and constitutional values.

Using desktop-based doctrinal research, this article examines South Africa’s constitutional framework, statutory landscape, common law principles and customary law traditions to assess the feasibility of recognising the legal personhood of nature. It also draws from comparative international jurisprudence to illuminate possible pathways, challenges and implications. The introduction frames legal personhood for nature not merely as an environmental reform but as a transformative, decolonial shift toward environmental justice and a renewed harmony between people and the natural world.

Conceptualising Legal Personhood of Nature

To speak of nature as a legal person is to disrupt everything, we were taught about how law sees the world. South African law has long treated rivers, forests, mountains and ecosystems as resources. Things to be owned, regulated, extracted, or managed. But what happens when we flip the script? What happens when we move nature from the category of object into the realm of subject: a rights-bearing entity with standing, dignity, and legal voice?

Legal personhood is not new. The law already grants personhood to corporations, trusts, municipalities, and even ships. None of these entities breathe, grow or feel. Yet they can sue, be sued, own property and hold rights. If legal personhood is a tool the law uses to protect interests, then the real question becomes: why has nature, the very foundation of life, been excluded from this category for so long?

The concept of environmental personhood challenges the deeply rooted anthropocentric mindset that places humans at the centre of the legal universe. It invites us to imagine a legal system that sees nature not as a passive commodity but as a dynamic, interconnected living system who’s well-being directly shapes our own. It echoes a worldview many African communities have always known that the river has memory, the forest has presence and the land carries spirit.

In this sense, recognising nature’s legal personhood is not radical for Africa, it is a return. A return to indigenous relational philosophies, a return to seeing land as kin, and a return to understanding that human survival and ecological survival are inseparable. As the world experiments with new ecological governance models, South Africa has an opportunity to lead with an approach that is both intellectually cutting-edge and culturally authentic.

Legal personhood, therefore, is not simply a legal category. It is a paradigm shift, one that challenges us to rethink the boundaries of justice, responsibility and belonging. It asks us whether our current legal frameworks are capable of protecting the living world in the age of climate crisis, or whether we need to imagine something bolder, something truer, something that finally resonates with our constitutional promise and African identity.

International Comparative Perspectives

Across the globe, the law is beginning to hear what nature has been saying all along. From New Zealand’s Whanganui River to Colombia’s Atrato River, courts and legislatures are recognising ecosystems as more than objects. They are living entities, deserving of rights and protection. These cases provide not only legal precedent but inspiration, showing that law can evolve to reflect ecological reality.

In New Zealand, the Whanganui River was granted legal personhood under the Te Awa Tupua Act of 2017. This recognition was not symbolic; it conferred enforceable rights and appointed guardians to act on the river’s behalf. The act acknowledged the Māori understanding of the river as an ancestor, a living entity with immense value. Similarly, Colombia’s Constitutional Court recognised the Atrato River’s rights in 2016, responding to indigenous communities whose livelihoods depended on its health. Both cases emphasise a fundamental principle: ecological personhood protects humans by protecting the systems on which life depends.

Yet these examples need not remain foreign lessons. South Africa, too, has rivers whose significance stretches beyond utility. The Isinuka River in the Eastern Cape, with its striking pink waters and deep connection to local communities, exemplifies a river that is culturally, environmentally, and socially vital. Its waters sustain livelihoods, shape local identity, and serve as a reminder of our interdependence with the natural world. Could South Africa, drawing on its own constitutional and customary law, recognise rivers like Isinuka as legal persons? The answer may lie in combining international insights with indigenous African philosophies that have long treated rivers, forests, and landscapes as living kin.

Comparative jurisprudence teaches that legal personhood requires two things: a clear set of rights for the ecosystem, and guardians empowered to enforce them. Guardianship models, as seen in New Zealand and Colombia, are particularly compelling for South Africa. They could be adapted to include community representatives, customary leaders, or environmental trusts, ensuring that the protection of rivers like Isinuka is both legally enforceable and culturally meaningful.

The takeaway is unmistakable: if rivers halfway across the world can speak through law, South Africa’s rivers do not need to remain silent. The Isinuka River, and many others like it, already speak through culture, livelihood, and local knowledge. What is missing is the law’s willingness to listen.

South African Legal Framework

South Africa’s legal landscape is fertile ground for the recognition of nature as a rights-bearing entity. The Constitution, often celebrated as transformative, enshrines environmental rights in Section 24, guaranteeing everyone the right to an environment that is not harmful to their health or well-being and placing a duty on the state to protect the environment for present and future generations. This clause is more than aspirational, it is a legal invitation to imagine a world where rivers, forests and ecosystems are no longer mere backdrops to human activity but participants in the legal order.

Statutory law, most prominently the National Environmental Management Act (NEMA), provides mechanisms for sustainable development, environmental impact assessments and the protection of biodiversity. Yet, these provisions still operate within an anthropocentric framework: nature is regulated, not empowered. It is still something we manage, not something that can speak through law. To grant personhood to a river like Isinuka would require the law to step beyond management and recognise intrinsic rights. Rights that are enforceable in court, with guardianship and legal standing.

South Africa’s common law offers glimpses of possibility. The public trust doctrine, though underdeveloped, acknowledges that certain resources such as rivers, wetlands, and coastlines are held in trust for the benefit of the public. Cases such as Fuel Retailers Association of Southern Africa v Director-General: Environmental Management, illustrate that courts can develop law incrementally to protect environmental interests. This provides a potential judicial pathway for recognising nature as a rights-holder.

Crucially, customary law must not be overlooked. Many African communities have long treated rivers, forests, and mountains as living entities, as ancestors, as part of a relational web connecting people, land, and spirit. Sections 211 and 31 of the Constitution protect these traditions, giving them legal weight. By integrating customary knowledge with constitutional principles, South Africa can craft an approach to ecological personhood that is authentically African grounded in local epistemologies, yet enforceable in courts.

In sum, South Africa’s legal framework is neither rigid nor incapable; it is waiting for bold interpretation. Section 24 provides the constitutional mandate, NEMA offers regulatory tools, common law allows for judicial creativity, and customary law offers philosophical and cultural legitimacy. Together, they create a unique opportunity: the law could recognise rivers like Isinuka not merely as resources to be used, but as living subjects with rights, whose well-being is inseparable from the health and dignity of the communities that depend on them.

Social Justice Implications

Legal personhood for nature is not merely an environmental or legal experiment. It is a profound instrument of social justice. In South Africa, rivers, wetlands, and forests are not abstract entities; they sustain life, culture, and community. Take the Isinuka River in the Eastern Cape, with its striking pink waters, or the sprawling wetlands of iSimangaliso in KwaZulu-Natal. These ecosystems provide water, food and livelihoods and they are deeply intertwined with the cultural and spiritual lives of local communities. When ecosystems are degraded, over-extracted, or polluted, it is these communities often rural, historically marginalised and underrepresented in decision-making who pay the heaviest price.

Recognising rivers, wetlands, and forests as legal persons shifts the frame of responsibility: it is no longer only humans who must fight for protection; it is the ecosystem itself, speaking through legal guardians empowered to defend its interests. Guardianship models could involve community representatives, customary leaders, or environmental trusts, ensuring protection is culturally rooted, locally accountable and legally enforceable. This approach empowers communities to safeguard the natural resources upon which their survival depends, while embedding African relational philosophies that have always treated land, rivers, and forests as living kin.

Consider other ecosystems: the Orange River, lifeblood to multiple provinces; the Umgeni River, supplying water to Durban; the Groot Marico River, central to Tswana cultural identity; and the ancient forests of Tsitsikamma and Knysna, under pressure from logging and urbanisation. Each embodies a nexus of ecological and social value. Granting legal personhood would protect not only biodiversity but also the rights and dignity of communities, many of whom have historically been marginalised and excluded from governance decisions affecting their land and water.

Ecological personhood also advances transformative constitutionalism. By recognising the rights of ecosystems, South Africa addresses historical environmental injustices while fostering equitable, community-centred environmental governance. It aligns human survival with ecological survival, creating a framework where justice, culture, and environmental protection intersect. In this sense, granting rights to rivers, wetlands, and forests is not merely progressive: it is just, necessary and a decolonial reclaiming of African knowledge systems.

Potential Pathways for Legal Recognition

Granting legal personhood to nature is not just a philosophical idea—it is a question of mechanism, enforcement, and accountability. South Africa has the constitutional, statutory, and cultural foundations to make this bold move but it requires practical pathways that turn principle into action.

One compelling route is the guardianship model, where appointed individuals or bodies act on behalf of the ecosystem. This approach has been tested internationally: New Zealand’s Whanganui River and Colombia’s Atrato River both have guardians empowered to represent the river in legal proceedings. In India, the Periyakaruppan case set a precedent by recognising the Periyar River as a legal person and assigning guardians to protect its rights, balancing ecological protection with community reliance. These cases illustrate that legal personhood is enforceable when the law creates mechanisms for representation and advocacy.

In South Africa, iSimangaliso Wetland Park offers an ideal starting point. Its complex ecosystem consisting of wetlands, estuaries, forests, and coral reefs supports biodiversity, tourism, and local livelihoods. By recognising iSimangaliso as a legal person, the state could appoint guardians drawn from communities, environmental authorities, and customary leaders to defend its ecological and cultural integrity. Guardians could ensure compliance with environmental laws, prevent exploitation, and represent the wetland’s interests in court.

Legislative reform is another pathway. Environmental statutes, such as NEMA, could be amended to explicitly provide for ecological personhood, defining the rights of ecosystems and the duties of guardians. Complementing statutory reform with judicial innovation would create a layered framework: courts could recognise new rights where legislation is silent, while laws could institutionalise protection and representation.

Finally, integrating customary law principles strengthens legitimacy and enforceability. African philosophies that view land, water, and forests as living relatives already echo the principles of ecological personhood. Guardianship structures could be grounded in these indigenous knowledge systems, ensuring that legal recognition is culturally resonant, locally accountable, and practically enforceable.

Through these pathways of guardianship, statutory reform, and customary law integration, South Africa could transform iSimangaliso and other ecosystems from legal objects into rights-bearing subjects. This is not a theoretical exercise; it is a concrete, actionable framework for rebalancing power between humans and nature, and for enacting the transformative promises of the Constitution and the African Renaissance.

Challenges and Criticisms

No transformative idea is without resistance. Granting legal personhood to nature in South Africa will face practical, legal, and ideological obstacles, and it is crucial to confront them head-on.

First, there is skepticism about enforceability. Critics argue: how can a river, wetland, or forest exercise rights? How can courts adjudicate the “interests” of a living ecosystem? These are valid questions, but they are not insurmountable. International examples from New Zealand’s Whanganui River to India’s Periyakaruppan case prove that guardianship structures effectively translate ecological needs into enforceable legal claims. The law does not need nature to “speak” in human terms; it needs representatives empowered to protect its integrity.

Second, there is tension with economic development. South Africa relies on mining, agriculture and industry, and granting rights to ecosystems may appear to constrain these activities. Yet this is not a choice between people and nature. As the African Renaissance reminds us, human survival is inseparable from ecological survival. Legal personhood could guide sustainable development, preventing exploitation that undermines both biodiversity and communities.

Third, there is judicial and political conservatism. Courts may hesitate to expand rights beyond humans or corporations, and lawmakers may resist perceived novelty. But legal innovation is not new to South Africa. The Constitution itself is a revolutionary document, embedding transformative, rights-based approaches where tradition once constrained imagination. Recognising ecosystems aligns with existing principles like Section 24, public trust doctrine, and customary law philosophies not outside them.

Finally, there is the challenge of harmonising human and ecological interests. Guardians must navigate complex trade-offs between community needs, development projects, and ecological protection. This requires clear frameworks, accountability mechanisms, and genuine engagement with affected communities. It is difficult, yes but it is necessary.

These challenges are not reasons to avoid change, they are calls to act thoughtfully, boldly, and creatively. Granting rivers, wetlands, and forests legal personhood is not an abstract gesture; it is a practical, enforceable, and socially just intervention. It is a legal revolution waiting to happen, one that could redefine South Africa’s relationship with its land, waters, and communities.

Conclusion

South Africa stands at a crossroads. The law has long treated nature as a resource to be managed, regulated, or exploited. Yet rivers like Isinuka, wetlands like iSimangaliso, and countless forests and ecosystems across the country tell a different story—one of life, interconnection, and resilience. Recognising these ecosystems as legal persons is not an abstract ideal; it is a necessary, transformative step toward environmental justice, community empowerment, and ecological survival.

The global movement for ecological personhood from New Zealand’s Whanganui River, Colombia’s Atrato, to India’s Periyar River shows that legal systems can evolve to protect life itself. South Africa has every tool it needs: a progressive Constitution, robust environmental statutes, common law principles like the public trust doctrine, and indigenous knowledge systems that have always honoured the living world. Integrating these elements can create a uniquely South African model of ecological personhood, one that is legally enforceable, culturally authentic, and socially just.

Beyond legal mechanisms, recognising nature’s rights is a call to reimagine our relationship with the Earth. It resonates with the ideals of the African Renaissance, which seeks to restore balance, dignity, and harmony between people and their environment. By granting rivers, wetlands, and forests their own voice, South Africa can pioneer a decolonial, rights-based approach to environmental governance—one that acknowledges that human well-being and ecological integrity are inseparable.

Ultimately, granting legal personhood to nature is not merely about protecting ecosystems, it is about reclaiming our collective responsibility, honouring indigenous wisdom, and daring to imagine a legal system capable of justice for all life. The question is no longer whether it is possible; it is whether South Africa is bold enough to listen.Bibliography

Cases

Centro de Estudios para la Justicia Social “Tierra Digna” v Presidency of the Republic Corte Constitucional de Colombia, Judgment T-622/16 (2016).

Fuel Retailers Association of Southern Africa v Director-General Environmental Management 2007 (6) SA 4 (CC).

Periyakaruppan v State of Tamil Nadu (2022) Madras High Court (India).

Salomon v A Salomon & Co Ltd [1897] AC 22 (HL).

Te Awa Tupua (Whanganui River Claims Settlement) Act 2017 (NZ).

Legislation and Policy

Constitution of the Republic of South Africa, 1996.

National Environmental Management Act 107 of 1998.

UNESCO, ‘iSimangaliso Wetland Park’ (UNESCO World Heritage Centre, 1999).

Books and Articles

Stone CD, ‘Should Trees Have Standing?—Toward Legal Rights for Natural Objects’ (1972) 45 Southern California Law Review 450.

News Sources

GroundUp, ‘Pink River Water Worries Residents in Eastern Cape’ (GroundUp, 2023).








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