Latin America’s political landscape has changed dramatically in the last decade. Democracy took a stronger hold throughout the region, especially in countries like Mexico and Peru, and more recently, governments have turned farther left in Argentina, Bolivia, Brazil, Chile – and of course, Venezuela.

The impact can be felt beyond the capitals of Santiago, La Paz, Mexico City, and Brasilia, as provincial governments and local communities in their own ways have become more vocal. Communities no longer fear their central governments’ response if they speak out against development; protesters know they have the right to speak their mind and politicians know that community sentiment can sway elections. That’s in part what happened in Bolivia, where in January 2006 Evo Morales became the region’s first indigenous head of state, following mounting protests against the country’s energy policy, among other issues.

While there’s nothing new about indigenous groups protesting energy projects, Latin American activists in recent years have become increasingly powerful as national governments become more sympathetic to their concerns. That sympathy is giving groups new ammunition, allowing them to take their grievances to court and the media. As a result, some natural resource companies have faced serious setbacks and stand to lose billions, while others have learned to work with indigenous groups. There’s little doubt these developments will change the way energy companies do business in the region, as project developers push into new territories.

Nowhere is that push more prevalent than in the power sector, where generators must move farther and farther away from urban centers to develop dams. Brazil, for example, is developing its new generation of mega-hydros deep in the Amazon jungle, while Chile is looking to build major hydro projects way down south in Patagonia.

Indigenous groups are putting up a fight against the hydro projects, arguing they encroach on their land and that flooding could wreak havoc on their local economies. The Mapuches – by far Chile’s largest indigenous group, at 600,000-plus – have mounted a vocal fight against hydro projects, sparking what’s now a global media campaign. In April, the New York Times joined the debate with an editorial against the project, “Patagonia Without Dams.” One militant faction of the Mapuches has threatened the safety of project developers and was allegedly behind the armed assault of a power company executive in Santiago. (The allegations have not been proven).

Meanwhile, indigenous Brazilian groups have tried to block workers from entering project sites and have taken their fight to the courts, imposing often short-lived injunctions on projects such as the 1.09 gigawatt Estreito dam in Maranhão State.

Many indigenous groups believe their best chances are in the courtroom with class-action lawsuits filed against corporations. California-based Chevron is embroiled in a years-long legal battle in Ecuador, where it has been accused of recklessly damaging the jungle decades back when Texaco Petroleum (Texpet), which later merged into Chevron, operated in a consortium with state oil company Petroecuador.

The friction with indigenous people has resulted in some changes in the way companies do business in Latin America. Developers know it’s no longer enough to receive formal permission from central and provincial governments; instead, companies are often working with local communities before construction starts, to address concerns and dispel rumors. Companies can help communities overcome problems such as unemployment by building schools and infrastructure to better link them to faraway markets. And business-friendly governments like Chile are taking a proactive step, designing bills that force companies to incorporate community programs into projects near indigenous land. That could benefit local residents and allow energy projects to continue without major delays. But it’s also clear that the battle over the rights of indigenous peoples is not going to end any time soon.