A Summer in Sapporo: Teaching Arctic Law at Hokkaido University!

 

Kamrul Hossain

The warm summer air in Sapporo was filled with the soft sound of cicadas as I walked under the leafy trees at Hokkaido University. The campus was alive with energy—green trees, sunlight streaming through the branches, and a palpable sense of life all around. It was July 4, 2025, the last day of the Summer Institute called “Understanding the Changing Arctic and Its Global Interconnections.” For a week, students from many countries had gathered here, all interested in learning more about the Arctic—a place far away, yet crucial to the whole world.

The program opened with Juha Saunavaara, who eloquently set the tone by exploring Japan’s unique position in Arctic affairs. He laid the foundation for what would become a dynamic and multidisciplinary journey. Next, Jorge Garcia Molinos captivated us with his portrait of Arctic biodiversity, revealing the delicate balance that climate change is steadily unraveling. Day two brought a shift in perspective—from ecosystems to data. Takafumi Hirata introduced us to the role of remote sensing in understanding Arctic marine environments. Then, Evgeny Podolskiy offered a sobering analysis of the region’s accelerating climate risks, grounding our discussions in the stark reality of a warming world. On July 3, the focus turned to geopolitics. Fujio Ohnishi unpacked the strategic tensions shaping Arctic international relations, followed by Martin Kossa’s compelling examination of China's growing ambitions in the region through a security lens.

Then came my turn. My session, “The Arctic from the Perspective of International and Indigenous Law,” was meant to be more than just a lecture—it was an invitation to challenge and be challenged. Together, we explored the legal architecture of the Arctic: from UNCLOS to the Arctic Council’s consensus-driven model, and how today’s geopolitical upheavals are testing these frameworks—from Russia’s invasion of Ukraine to climate policy setbacks under President Trump. But at the heart of our discussion was something even more critical: the rights and role of Indigenous peoples. We explored how Indigenous communities are not passive observers but active shapers of Arctic governance. Their legal status, traditional knowledge, and political agency are redefining what justice, sovereignty, and sustainability mean in the region. The conversation grew deeper: Who has the right to shape the Arctic’s future? How do we reconcile international law with Indigenous self-determination? Can legal systems serve both as protection and as a bridge between cultures?

The students were fully engaged, asking powerful questions about equity, representation, and legal pluralism. In those moments, teaching transformed into something greater—a shared intellectual journey. We weren’t just exchanging ideas; we were imagining new possibilities together. That evening, Juha closed the program with a final lecture on sustainable Arctic economic development, tying together the many threads we had explored—from ecology to economics, from diplomacy to justice. As the sun dipped behind the buildings and we gathered for a small reception, there was laughter, reflection, and a quiet sense of urgency.

Though many of the students had never set foot in the Arctic, it no longer felt remote. The region had become personal—real. And in that still, golden Hokkaido evening, I was reminded of why we teach: not just to inform, but to connect, to awaken, and to inspire the next generation of thinkers and leaders—those who will inherit this complex world and, with hope, help shape it into something better.