- In 2024, Bolivia’s state-owned lithium company, signed contracts worth a combined $2 billion with Russian and Chinese companies to mine lithium from Salar de Uyuni in the country’s southwest.
- Local communities already experiencing water shortages say they’re concerned the projects will divert large amounts of freshwater from agricultural lands.
- Experts have pointed out inconsistencies with the contracts, including the lack of environmental impact assessments required under Bolivian law, and the lack of community consultation.
- Bolivia holds an estimated 23 million metric tons of lithium reserves, or about a fifth of the global total, which is in growing demand for production of electric vehicle batteries.
Dionicio Colque, 42, has fond memories of growing up on the edge of Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia. It’s the world’s largest salt flat, spanning about 10,500 square kilometers (4,050 square miles). His family farmed potatoes on the outskirts of Colcha K, a community of around 1,000 residents in Nor Lípez province.
But in around 2005, the freshwater spring that sustained their ranch ran dry, a loss Colque attributes to the effects of climate change and nearby mining operations. With no water, the family was forced to abandon its ranch and move into the city. “It was heartbreaking to watch our land dry up,” Colque told Mongabay. “Without water, there is no life.”
Colque, now a teacher at Colcha K’s main elementary school, is among the residents alarmed by an influx of lithium mining plants that threaten the community’s remaining groundwater.
In September 2024, Bolivia’s state-owned lithium company, Yacimientos de Litio Bolivianos (YLB), signed a $970 million contract with Russia’s state-owned Uranium One Group to develop a new lithium plant within Colcha K municipality. Just two months later, YLB secured another deal, this time worth $1.03 billion with China’s CBC, a subsidiary of CATL, the world’s biggest manufacturer of lithium-ion batteries, to establish two additional plants nearby.
At full capacity, these facilities are expected to produce almost 90,000 metric tons of lithium carbonate annually for production of lithium-ion batteries — enough to power 3 million electric vehicles.

YLB executive president Omar Alarcón has told local media that the projects with Uranium One and CBC will only extract 1.64% of the region’s known lithium reserves, leaving room for more future projects. A recent U.S. Geological Survey report estimates that Bolivia holds 23 million metric tons of lithium — roughly 20% of the world’s total.
For local residents, however, the benefits aren’t so clear. The new lithium plants are set to pump large quantities of freshwater from areas south of the Salar, including Nor Lípez Native Community Land, a recognized Indigenous territory. The community here farms potato and quinoa, raises cattle and llamas, and engages in tourism — the backbones of the local economy.
Over the past year, Colque said he’s watched in dismay as YLB drilled more than 10 wells around Salar de Uyuni to assess groundwater availability for the new lithium plants. “I’m worried for the next generation,” he told Mongabay by phone. “If this water is gone, it could mean the end of our community.”
Growing tensions
In a meeting held by the Nor Lípez Lithium Advisory Council in February 2025, community leaders voted to “demand the expulsion of the CBC and Uranium One companies from Bolivia.” Attendees at the gathering accused the companies of plundering local lithium reserves and wanting to turn local communities into “slaves” on their own land.
“They never consulted us before these contracts were signed,” said Julieta Uyuli Bartolomé, general secretary of the provincial association of Indigenous communities, who joined the gathering. Her group represents 53 Indigenous communities surrounding Salar de Uyuni, none of which was approached by either the companies or the Bolivian government to discuss the lithium projects, Bartolomé said. Instead, they only gained access to the contracts through social media, she added.
The lack of consultation violates Convention 169 of the International Labour Organization (ILO), to which the Bolivian government is a signatory. Also known as the Indigenous and Tribal Peoples Convention, it requires that Indigenous communities be consulted by their government “before undertaking or permitting any programs” that involve exploring natural resources. Bypassing consultation also contravenes the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (Article 19), which stipulates that states must cooperate with Indigenous peoples before making decisions that impact their territories.

Following the gathering in February, CBC hosted a public assembly in the city of Potosí, where it was met by an angry audience shouting their concerns about the new lithium plants. Meanwhile, in the small village of San Cristóbal, government representatives advocating for the projects were driven out of a community meeting by angry locals. Bartolomé said the government and companies should have considered the community earlier in the process. “We demand that our rights be respected, as we have inhabited this land for more than 6,000 years,” she told Mongabay.
In recent weeks, community organizations have submitted a letter to the United Nations requesting direct intervention to assess the impact of these projects and potential violations of their human rights. They’ve also met with local legislators and senators to garner support, and are planning a class-action lawsuit against the projects.
The most pressing concern they cite is that the CBC contract has already received the endorsement of the national legislature’s oversight commission for the economy. That approval came after a late-night session that required police presence to contain protesters, and puts the contract a step closer to full legislative approval, which would make it legally binding. A final vote by the legislature has not yet been scheduled.
Contracts under scrutiny
As these projects advance, experts question their legality. “The mere existence of these contracts is controversial,” said Manuel Olivera Andrade, a researcher in socioecological and energy transitions at the Higher University of San Andrés (UMSA) in La Paz. “They are created in a regulation and legislation gap where there are no guarantees of preserving the interests of the region, the state, and Indigenous communities. This worries us immensely.”
Andrade also questioned why Uranium One and CBC were chosen in the first place. “The Bolivian government made an international call for proposals in 2021, but we still don’t have clarity on what this proposal entailed or how these companies were selected,” he said. “I’m particularly concerned that Uranium One Group is dedicated to mining uranium, not lithium. It’s unclear why the government would choose them.”
Local scientists have also criticized the projects’ lack of environmental impact assessments (EIA), a requirement under Bolivia’s 1992 Environmental Law for all high-impact projects. Without this assessment, the full environmental and social implications of the new facilities remain unknown. Company executives have said in interviews that they plan to conduct detailed studies, but they didn’t respond to Mongabay’s request for more information.
“Without a hydrological study, we cannot determine the amount of freshwater needed and where that water is coming from,” said Jorge Molina Carpio, a researcher at UMSA’s Institute of Hydraulics and Hydrology.

The new plants in Bolivia will employ the direct lithium extraction (DLE) mining method, which the contracts claim to be more sustainable. However, there’s still a lot of uncertainty regarding the new technology. A recent study published in the journal Resources, Conservation and Recycling found that DLE plants typically require more freshwater for rinsing and separating lithium from other elements, while traditional mining methods consume more brine.
Molina Carpio said his biggest concern is that these operations will deplete underground aquifers faster than they can naturally recharge. “The aquifer could gradually empty until it eventually disappears,” he said. “This could, without a doubt, impact the water sources of local communities. The water level could drop so much that they would run out of water.”
This risk is amplified by climate change. Over the past 40 years, the Bolivian Altiplano region, where Salar de Uyuni is located, has experienced declining rainfall during the pre-rainy season, from September to November. Now, climate models also predict a drier rainy season between December and February.
“The lack of rain would severely affect the aquifers’ ability to recharge,” Molina Carpio said. “This would be the worst case scenario for local communities.”
Citations:
Halkes, R. T., Hughes, A., Wall, F., Petavratzi, E., Pell, R., & Lindsay, J. J. (2024). Life cycle assessment and water use impacts of lithium production from salar deposits: Challenges and opportunities. Resources, Conservation and Recycling, 207, 107554. doi:10.1016/j.resconrec.2024.107554
Torres-Batlló, J., & Martí-Cardona, B. (2020). Precipitation trends over the southern Andean Altiplano from 1981 to 2018. Journal of Hydrology, 590, 125485. doi:10.1016/j.jhydrol.2020.125485
Agudelo, J., Espinoza, J., Junquas, C., & Arias, P. A. (2025). Future projections of summer precipitation-driving mechanisms over the South American Altiplano. Climate Dynamics, 63(3). doi:10.1007/s00382-025-07656-1
Banner image: Lake Kara in the municipality of Colcha K, located in Salar de Uyuni. Locals warn that lithium extraction contracts between Bolivia and Russian and Chinese companies will threaten the already scarce water resources they have available for their livelihoods. Image by Carlos Adampol Galindo via wikimedia.
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