Decades of Displacement: The Avá-Guarani Struggle Against Itaipu Dam
For Indigenous leader Teodoro Alves, childhood memories of the Paraná River flowing through his Ocoy-Jacutinga community have been replaced by the stark reality of an immense artificial lake. This transformation occurred in the 1970s when the Itaipu hydroelectric dam, one of the world's largest power plants, was constructed across the Brazil-Paraguay border, submerging traditional Avá-Guarani lands and displacing hundreds of families.
The Concrete Wall That Changed Everything
The Itaipu dam stands as a monumental engineering achievement—196 meters high and nearly 8 kilometers long—providing clean energy to both Brazil and Paraguay. Yet for the Avá-Guarani people, this concrete structure represents a profound rupture with their ancestral territory. "I saw the Paraná River before the Itaipu dam was closed. Now I see an immense lake. The river died completely. It died with the Avá-Guarani people," Alves states with palpable emotion.
Approximately 380 Avá-Guarani families lived along the Paraná River before construction began under both countries' military governments. Their tekoha—territories encompassing housing, farming, spirituality and collective practices—were abruptly destroyed by forced displacement. The sacred Sete Quedas waterfalls, known as Guaíra Falls, disappeared underwater as vast areas flooded.
Fifty Years of Fighting for Recognition
Five decades later, the Avá-Guarani—part of the Guarani people living across Paraguay, Brazil, Bolivia and Argentina—continue their battle for justice. In March 2025, Brazil's supreme court ordered partial reparations including 3,000 hectares of land and a public apology from Itaipu Binacional, the dam operator. The company acknowledged displacing communities, losing traditional lands and sacred sites, and admitted decisions were based on mistaken assumptions that the region was uninhabited.
However, Indigenous leaders argue these measures fall short of true territorial recognition. "The 3,000 hectares amount to an emergency land purchase. That is not enough to recognise the flooded territory," says Teodoro Alves. "Recognition has to become real living conditions." Deputy prosecutor-general Eliana Torelly confirms the court agreement is only partial, with the case's merits not yet fully resolved.
The Paraguayan Struggle Continues
While Brazil has taken initial steps toward reparations, Avá-Guarani communities in Paraguay have received little or no compensation. Authorities deny their ancestral claims, despite documentation showing continuous occupation for over 2,000 years. In the 1980s, some compensation was awarded based on crop and house values, but many report receiving nothing or insufficient amounts to purchase new land.
Hugo Valiente of Amnesty International Paraguay explains: "Forced displacement carried out under a military regime and in the context of crimes against humanity is a continuing violation, which persists until territorial restitution or an equivalent alternative is provided." Paraguayan authorities and Itaipu's Paraguayan office do not formally recognise affected Indigenous peoples or their right to ancestral territory.
Sarambi: The Ongoing Reality of Dispersal
The Guarani concept of sarambi describes the forced dispersal caused by the dam's construction. Pedro Alves, Teodoro's older brother, recalls how families scattered during displacement: "When the land measurements began, and the project moved forward, many families had to leave. Most fled. Only four or five stayed. That's why Itaipu says it found few families there."
Teodoro remembers his family's desperate crossing into Paraguay by canoe: "We took only clothes, a blanket and a dog. Everything else was left behind." This fragmentation continues today, with more than 30 Avá-Guarani communities living in precarious encampments without land rights or adequate living conditions.
Documenting History, Demanding Justice
Since the 1980s, communities have gathered accounts of expulsions and identity denial with researcher support. The 2020 publication Imagem e Memória dos Avá-Guarani Paranaenses documents how state borders fragmented their territory across river basins. Historian Clóvis Brighenti notes approximately 280,000 Guarani people live mainly in Brazil and Paraguay today.
The struggle gained momentum in 2015 with a Guarani Truth Commission documenting rights violations. "If we don't tell what happened, it's as if it never existed," says Pedro Alves. Geographer Osmarina de Oliveira reveals Brazilian agencies used exclusionary criteria to deny Indigenous identity, later challenged by anthropological reports.
María Delia Martínez, daughter of leader Julio Martínez who denounced land seizures, speaks for affected communities: "I ask, on behalf of all Avá-Guarani affected by Itaipu, that our villages be restored. Everything was taken from us, and we suffered deeply."
As Teodoro Alves emphasizes, borders are meaningless to the Guarani: "For us, there is no Brazilian, Paraguayan or Argentine Guarani. We are one people." Their fight continues for funding to build houses, plant crops, and support handicrafts—resources allowing self-determination in rebuilding their lives five decades after displacement began.
