MAE HONG SON, Thailand — The flashlight bouncing off the cave walls stopped abruptly as Sakda Khayankitphuanphon came to a halt in the dark.

Scarcely 2 kilometers (1.2 miles) from Sakda’s home in Huay Tapab, where Sakda is village chief, the remnants of a now-dormant mining operation have left scars on the landscape of Mae La Noi district in northern Thailand. Nature is steadily reclaiming the exterior of the old mining site, but inside the tunnels remained cool in the March heat as Sakda navigated the rotting wooden buttresses that held the tunnels up.

“Be careful, watch every step — we can’t go any further than this, it’s the point where the old mine collapsed,” he said. “This hole is very deep, you can’t see the bottom.”

Twisted and rusted metal jutting out over a gulf of darkness are all that remains of the mining cart tracks, but glinting under Sakda’s flashlight and the community members’ phone lights twinkled the minerals that had drawn the miners in the first place.

Fluorite, a crystalline mineral, cast hues of purple, blue and green from the walls and roof of the cave. It’s versatile and is used across steel and metal production, as well as in toothpaste and table salt, but it’s most commonly found in hydrofluoric acid — a key ingredient in refrigerants that’s also used to clean semiconductors and to process uranium.

The wide range of applications means high quality fluorite can fetch thousands of dollars per gram, presenting an opportunity in Mae La Noi district, Mae Hong Son province, that a mining company began to exploit shortly after it was established in 1960.

The Thai government awarded Universal Mining a 30-year mining concession stretching 114 rai — roughly 18.2 hectares (45 acres) — on the banks of the Mae La Luang River, a few hundred meters from Indigenous communities who’ve long relied on the river for drinking water and fishing.

Just a boy at the time, Sakda recalled, Universal Mining’s operations created a raft of problems for the community, although he joked that there were no smartphones back then to document them.

“First, the workers at the mine stole our cows and buffalos, they ate them, and they also used dynamite to fish in the river,” he said. “It was very scary, we are all ethnically Karen in this village, but the company hired migrant workers from Myanmar and we didn’t speak the same language. They thought that because the company had the permits to operate here, the company owned the whole area.”

Soon enough, people drinking from the Mae La Luang River started to get sick. According to three sources in Huay Tapab village, the fish died and were seen floating poisoned down the river. So were the turtles that were had previously been spotted in the Mae La Luang, and livestock that drank from the river’s tributaries were found dead several villages away.

These problems festered until Universal Mining’s operations came to an abrupt halt sometime around 1994 or 1995, before the company’s mining permits expired in 1998. A migrant worker was reportedly killed in the mining tunnels and the company withdrew from the project, leaving Sakda’s community to deal with the chemical-soaked mess that was left in their wake.

Nearly three decades later, the fish have returned, although Sakda and the other Karen villagers maintain preservation zones along the Mae La Luang to ensure that breeding continues at a rate that allows the community to enjoy fish stocks year-round. The water is safe to drink again, which is important, he said, because none of the villages have tap water provided by the municipal authorities — even the local muntjac deer and bird populations have recovered in the absence of mining.

But between 2021 and 2022, Universal Mining’s total assets almost doubled from nearly $8.9 million (roughly 29 million Thai baht) to $17.4 million (57 million Thai baht) as Chinese investors came onboard. Renewed with fresh capital, Universal Mining struck out to reclaim its old mining concession in Mae La Noi district, but this time, the company has been met with fierce resistance from the Karen community.

Risks flow downriver

Since 2021, Universal Mining has been attempting to move ahead with the process of reopening the fluorite mines, which now includes conducting an environmental impact assessment (EIA) — a process which, in the law’s latest iteration, requires input from affected communities.

Fearing that the fluorite mine would once more contaminate their waters, kill their fish and result in them being displaced, Sakda said that the Karen community refused to participate in the EIA process.

“The EIA was conducted by a team of people, but we don’t know who they are — they held two meetings in Hoi Makok village [roughly 2.5 km (1.5 mi) from the mining site], but the people who attended weren’t even from our village,” Sakda said.

According to Sakda and other villagers present for the EIA process, many of the attendees at these meetings appeared to be government officials from the provincial administration who would not be affected by the outcome of the meetings.

Universal Mining could not be reached for comment, as the company’s online footprint appears minimal, but Mongabay hand-delivered written questions to the company’s office in Doi Soket district, Chiang Mai province. No reply has been received at the time of publication.

However, Alinrat Nithisunthon — who is listed as the company’s director as per Ministry of Commerce records — was quoted in 2021 by local media as saying that there will be no environmental impact as a result of the fluorite mine, because it would be tunnel mining rather than open pit mining.

She was also quoted as saying that no chemicals would be used, rather, “It is a closed blasting operation using modern technology, with no rocks flying or causing damage.”

The company has not released specific plans for the Mae La Noi mine, but villagers and conservationists are concerned that blasting will rely on ammonium nitrate fuel oil (ANFO), an explosive compound widely used for mining, making up 80% of mining explosives in North America.

ANFO is more stable than nitroglycerine, but introduces environmental risks, including the release of toxic gases during explosions, as well as the potential for groundwater and freshwater ecosystems to be contaminated due to the solubility of ammonium nitrate — a risk that’s more acute in wet or humid soils where the chemicals leach faster.

“The ammonium-nitrate blasting method (ANFO) is a major concern,” said Thanakrit Thongfa, Mekong campaign coordinator at EarthRights International, and added that contamination could cost the community their source of drinking water.

“Dust and air pollution from the blasting and hauling would add another layer of health risks, particularly respiratory problems, which the community is already concerned about,” he said in an email to Mongabay. “Long term, this could force a shift away from traditional agriculture and threaten the local ecosystem balance entirely.”

Universal Mining’s concession where they intend to mine fluorite sits on the banks of the Mae La Luang River, with the smaller Nam Mueang creek flowing through the proposed mining site into the Mae La Luang. From here, it then joins the Yuam River and flows into the Salween River, the region’s longest free-flowing river.

“At least five villages rely directly on the Mae La Luang for drinking water, irrigation, and fishing,” added Thanakrit. “Because the river connects to the Yuam and Salween [rivers], downstream impacts could eventually affect thousands, including cross-border communities in Myanmar — so the scale is hard to quantify precisely but certainly much larger than just the immediate village cluster.”

Another year, another protest

Some 2 km (1.5 mi) west of the mining site, where the dirt roads of Huay Tapab village meet tarmacked main roads, Mongabay met with Mike Khayankitphuanphon — Sakda’s brother — who had been visiting the fish sanctuaries constructed by the community.

During Thailand’s wet season, the Mae La Luang’s water levels rise and the fish swim upstream, allowing fish into and out of the preservation zone, but as the rains stop, fish become unable to return downriver where they could be caught by fishers within the community. The preservation zones protect known breeding grounds, Mike said, ensuring that fish stocks last throughout the year and reducing the risk of overfishing within the community.

“From over there all the way down the river by about 1.5 km [0.9 mi], it’s the preservation zone — everyone in the village knows this, even the fish know it!” he said. “The fish only swim out of this zone during the rainy season when the water level is high enough.”

Mike and Sakda are members of the Save La River Network, a grassroots community group that combines admittedly small forces to oppose the mine through activism.

“In the past, we saw how the mining company operated, what they did to the river, how the workers stole our property and our livestock. We felt insecure, it wasn’t safe,” said Mike. “Today, we have the internet and we can get the information we need to defend our land against mining companies.”

Not only are they able to better understand the company’s intentions, they’re also able to find larger advocacy networks like EarthRights International and legal support such as that provided by Center for Protection and Revival of Local Community Rights (CPCR).

This is why each year since 2023, on Feb. 23, Mae La Noi draws a crowd of grassroots activists, who come together to celebrate another year of keeping the miners at bay, blessing the mountains and the river.

“Every year, we invite representatives from the government: the provincial governor, the provincial department of industry chief, the provincial forestry chief and the district chief, but none of them ever come to join us,” said Sakda. “For three years; none of them will come here and meet with us.”

Protected on paper

Without legitimate participation from local community members, an EIA cannot be approved by the Office of Natural Resources and Environmental Policy and Planning (ONEP), an agency under the Ministry of Natural Resources and Environment. Without the EIA, the company cannot — on paper — proceed with the mine.

Even if Universal Mining is able to secure an EIA, the company would still need permission to use parts of Mae La Noi that are classified as watershed forests, managed by the Royal Forest Department. The company would also need an agreement on the land-use by the sub-district council.

“When the company met with those officials, the council didn’t allow it,” said Sakda. “They’re local officials, elected by communities here into the Mae Tho sub-district. They understand the problems we face if this mine goes ahead.”

But while these protections work on paper, there are fears that Universal Mining could find a way to slip through Thailand’s regulatory gaps.

According to Sakda, the Royal Forest Department has listed much of the forest around Mae La Noi district as degraded, meaning they would be more likely to sign off on mining operations there.

“We found that the site of the mine is actually very rich, lush forest, but the EIA identifies it as degraded forest,” said Sakda.

Sathan Chiwawichipong, a former candidate for the now-dissolved Move Forward Party and veteran activist who’s supported the Mae La Noi community, said that ONEP officials rarely leave Bangkok to visit the actual sites detailed in EIAs.

“When the old mining company blasted open around 30 quarries in the ground for mining, the officials at ONEP didn’t see what was happening on the ground, they only saw what was written on paper in the EIA, which was just one quarry for mining,” said Sathan.

Multiple attempts by Mongabay to contact the Ministry of Natural Resources and Environment went unanswered, as did emails, messages and calls to officials at both the Department of Mineral Resources and the Department of Primary Industries and Mines.

Thanakrit of EarthRights International, which has advocated on behalf of the community, said that the EIA is at the heart of the struggle.

“The short answer is: the EIA rejection or incompletion is currently the strongest defense, but it’s not foolproof,” he said. “ONEP does hold authority to block a project that doesn’t meet EIA requirements, but political and commercial pressures can bend the process.”

Minerals or Indigenous rights

For now, the EIA process protects, but regulatory processes alone might not stop the mine and extraction in Mae La Noi might not end with Universal Mining, according to Sumitchai Hattasarn, lawyer and director of CPCR, which is supporting the Karen community’s plight in resisting the fluorite mine.

In a phone interview with Mongabay, Sumitchai noted that ONEP’s processes lack transparency or independent oversight and provide little opportunity for communities to interact directly with regulators. Affected villagers, he said, are only invited to participate in public meetings related to the EIA, whereas much of the process takes place behind closed doors. Compounding this, he added that consultants who prepare EIAs are hired by project developers, which can create a motive to minimize risks and overstate benefits.

CPCR and EarthRights International supported the community to travel to Bangkok in 2022 to submit letters of protest opposing the fluorite mine to the House Committee on Land, Natural Resources and Environment. Similarly, in 2024, Thailand’s National Human Rights Committee filed a complaint based on the community’s testimony.

But none of this appears to have halted Universal Mining.

Part of this lies in the strategic value of Mae La Noi in Thailand’s Mineral Resources Masterplan, which shows significant parts of northern Thailand are slated for mining operations targeting a range of minerals and materials. So even if the community in Mae La Noi fend off Universal Mining, the Thai government has made it clear that it intends to extract what’s under the ground that Sakda and his community live on.

Sumitchai stressed that Indigenous communities in Thailand are more vulnerable due to precarious land tenure and limited resources and are more reliant on natural resources.

“In general, the livelihoods of Indigenous communities, especially those in northern Thailand, is disproportionately reliant on natural resources,” he said. “They’re very reliant on land, rivers and forests because their main profession is often agriculture, so everything relies very heavily on nature. If the mining goes ahead, it’ll have a severe impact on the livelihoods of these communities in Mae La Noi and they might be forced to relocate as a result.”

While NGOs are leading the charge in attempts to revoke the minerals masterplan, Thanakrit said that the most affected community members lack formal land titles, so companies like Universal Mining are often able to take the land from Indigenous communities whose land tenure rights are weak at best.

“The absence of tenure is part of the unspoken leverage mining companies rely on, since it complicates both resistance and claims for damages,” he said.

Thailand’s often-used estimate suggests 6 million Indigenous people belong to 60 groups nationwide, but that data was produced by the government in 2002 — no new estimate has since been published. Despite Thailand adopting the UN Declaration on the Rights on Indigenous Peoples in 2007, the recent Protection and Promotion of Indigenous and Ethnic Groups Bill was gutted of the term “Indigenous peoples” in late 2024 and has since stalled over fears that Indigenous communities could abuse land tenure rights.

“There’s growing advocacy momentum both nationally and regionally, especially as communities like those in Mae La Noi connect with others resisting similar projects,” said Thanakrit. “But the policy environment remains weak. What’s needed is a combination of legal reforms to recognize community land tenure, stronger environmental law enforcement, and platforms that give Indigenous voices genuine weight in policymaking.”

Banner image: Sakda Khayankitphuanphon took reporters into the old mining tunnels to see the fluorite that Universal Mining seeks to extract from the mountains. Image by Gerald Flynn / Mongabay.