Most free trade advocates falsely claim that comparative advantage ensures developmental gains from trade liberalisation. Mainstream trade theory does not promise that partial trade liberalisation guarantees optimal international specialisation.

Jomo Kwame Sundaram

Why should developing countries specialise in producing and exporting mineral or agricultural primary commodities? After all, most economists recognise the greater gains in growth, employment, and income from dynamic modern activities, especially manufacturing.

Comparative advantage supposedly gained by trade liberalisation supposedly ensures gains from international specialisation. However, tropical agriculture has instead experienced falling relative prices rather than higher-value-added secondary and tertiary activities in the North.

As Hans Singer and Raul Prebisch showed in 1950, export prices for primary commodities have fallen much more over the long term relative to the prices of manufactures. Bilge Erten has shown these trends continuing into the early 21st century.

Evidence since the late 20th century suggests that the prices of manufactured goods produced by developing countries have fallen relative to those of more sophisticated, high-tech goods from more developed economies.

Intellectual property rents
Due to intense competition among developing countries producing ‘generic’ manufactures, developed-country firms secure higher rents from intellectual property rights (IPRs) – namely, ‘surplus’ from monopoly power so conferred – on their manufactured exports.

The latter are priced higher due to the ‘exclusive’ monopoly power protected by IPRs and ‘branding’ strengthened by transnational law with the establishment of the multilateral World Trade Organization and related law on trade-related intellectual property rights (TRIPS).

In fact, the prices of generic primary commodities and ‘unbranded’ manufactures have fallen due to more intense competition. In contrast, the prices of ‘exclusive’ products, due to monopoly IPRs and transnational corporate branding, remain higher.

However, such rents do not accrue to mass-produced generic products, whether primary commodities or manufactures made with easily accessible materials and production techniques, subject to intense market competition.

The last decade-long commodity ‘super-cycle’ price boom, which ended around 2004, generated windfall earnings and investible capital. While it undoubtedly lifted many boats for growth, if not development, it did not contradict longer-term trends.

Biased theory
The economic literature on development, trade, and monopolistic competition recognises the possibility of increasing – not just diminishing – returns to scale in manufacturing, enabling average costs to fall.

Such gains from trade are not from one-time ‘static’ improvements in resource allocation. Instead, these benefits stem from dynamic changes driven by production expansion, specialisation, and differentiation for larger markets.

Potential gains from greater external market access can be significant, but only if building on an existing industrial base, capacity and capabilities. Proactive support through appropriate industrial, investment, and technology policies can be crucial.

This pragmatic developmental approach to trade policy contradicts the neoclassical Heckscher-Ohlin ‘pure’ trade theory, the received conventional wisdom invoked by contemporary advocates of trade liberalisation.

Some Keynesian economists promoted balance-of-payments-constrained growth. Cross-border flows of goods and services are determined by the level and growth rate of economic activity, with the exchange rate determining relative prices.

This approach, implying fewer gains from trade, is rejected by trade liberalisation advocates. Developing countries’ gains from specialisation are reduced by falling relative prices, with consumers benefiting from productivity gains at the expense of producers.

If developing-country firms do not manufacture products at productivity levels comparable to those in developed countries, claims of trade gains from consumers’ ‘love of variety’ become quite irrelevant.

Agricultural trade liberalisation
The Western push for agricultural trade liberalisation sought to eliminate tariffs to ensure food security while ignoring subsidies that developed countries could afford.

Although agricultural export subsidies have been largely eliminated, OECD food producers continue to benefit from production subsidies, thereby enabling productivity and trade gains.

As many developing countries became net importers of subsidised agribusiness exports from OECD exporters, price increases due to subsidy withdrawal hurt consumers, especially in developing countries.

Comparable gains in developing-country agriculture have often been modest due to the decline in infrastructure and support services, especially after the imposition of the ‘neoliberal’ Washington Consensus by the West in the 1980s.

The increasing private foreign corporate domination of agricultural research, development, and extension has also significantly reduced net gains to developing-country smallholder farmers.

Neoliberal reforms, including structural adjustment programmes, have reduced, contracted out or privatised government and public-sector alternatives. This raised the costs of credit, marketing, and inputs, including seeds, fertilisers, herbicides, pesticides, machinery and fuel.

While trade liberalisation of manufactured imports eroded the policy space needed for investment and technology policies for development, agricultural trade liberalisation has undermined ‘food security’ in most developing countries.

Thus, many African net food-exporting nations became net food importers in the 1980s, following the neoliberal reforms imposed by structural adjustment programmes on indebted nations.

IPS UN Bureau

Central Asian states mark the 20th anniversary of the Nuclear-Weapon-Free Zone Treaty with a joint foreign ministers' statement Credit: Kazakhstan MFA

By Katsuhiro Asagiri
TOKYO, Japan, Sep 11 2026 (IPS)

Twenty years after five Central Asian states signed a landmark treaty banning nuclear weapons across their region, their foreign ministers have used the anniversary to warn that faltering arms-control agreements, nuclear modernization and deepening international mistrust are placing global security under growing strain.

Central Asia Nuclear Free Zones

The ministers described the treaty as a symbol of Central Asia’s transformation from a region where nuclear weapons were once tested and deployed into one of the leaders of global disarmament efforts.

That history gives the anniversary weight. Semipalatinsk — now Semey — was the Soviet Union’s principal nuclear testing ground, where 456 tests were conducted between 1949 and 1989 across a site roughly the size of Belgium. An estimated 1.5 million people were affected by the fallout, and the health consequences have passed through three generations. Kazakhstan closed the site on August 29, 1991.

Semipalatinsk Former Nuclear Weapon Test site. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri

Warning After Another Failed NPT Review

The anniversary arrives at a difficult moment for the global nuclear order. The ministers reaffirmed the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT) as the cornerstone of efforts to prevent proliferation and ultimately eliminate nuclear weapons, but expressed regret that its Eleventh Review Conference, held in New York from April 27 to May 22 this year, ended without a substantive outcome — the third consecutive review conference to close without consensus, following those of 2015 and 2022.

They voiced particular concern over insufficient progress toward disarmament under Article VI of the NPT, the cessation of key arms-control arrangements and an alarming trend toward the modernization of nuclear arsenals, placing special responsibility on nuclear-weapon states and calling for new, verifiable mechanisms to prevent a renewed arms race.

Even as the review process stalled, the zones drew attention as one of the regime’s more durable achievements. At a Kazakh-hosted event on the margins of the conference, Robin Geiß, Director of the UN Institute for Disarmament Research, credited the Central Asian zone with a distinctive contribution in linking security to development, environmental protection and public health, while Mark Melamed of the Nuclear Threat Initiative cautioned that the zones’ achievements cannot be assumed to endure.

CTBT at 30 — Still Not in Force

On September 24, the CTBT will mark 30 years since it opened for signature. Yet it has still not entered into force. The Central Asian states called for its earliest possible entry into force and urged all states to refrain from any action that could undermine the norm against nuclear explosive testing.

The appeal follows a joint statement issued on August 29 — the anniversary of the test site’s closure, observed by the United Nations as the International Day against Nuclear Tests — in which Kazakh Foreign Minister Yermek Kosherbayev and Robert Floyd, Executive Secretary of the Comprehensive Nuclear-Test-Ban Treaty Organization, urged renewed action to end testing permanently. Much of the treaty’s machinery already functions despite its legal limbo: 308 facilities have been certified, bringing the International Monitoring System to more than 90 percent completion.

More than 300 International Monitoring System (IMS) facilities certified out of the 337 the CTBTO has planned are already in operation. Credit: CTBTO

The ministers also welcomed the 2014 signing by the five NPT-recognized nuclear-weapon states of the protocol providing negative security assurances to the zone. Four have ratified it; the ministers expressed hope that the United States would complete its ratification.

A Regional Model in a Fragmenting Nuclear Order

The declaration went beyond treaties to emphasize disarmament education, backing continued observance of the International Day for Disarmament and Non-Proliferation Awareness — a Kyrgyz initiative marked annually on March 5, the date the NPT entered into force — and stressing the importance of involving young people.

Nuclear-weapon-free zones cannot substitute for the disarmament obligations of states that possess nuclear arsenals. But the Semipalatinsk Treaty demonstrates that non-nuclear states are not merely spectators in the global nuclear order: by acting collectively they can create binding regional norms and press nuclear-weapon states for security assurances.

Central Asia has also shown that such zones can become more than geographic prohibitions. The five states have signed memoranda of understanding with the African Commission on Nuclear Energy and with the Agency for the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons in Latin America and the Caribbean, which administers the 1967 Treaty of Tlatelolco, and Kazakhstan hosted in Astana in August 2024 the second meeting of representatives of all existing zones. The limits are equally clear: three decades of advocacy have not produced a zone in the Middle East, which the ministers again called for.

Equally important is the link between diplomacy and human experience. The Nevada-Semipalatinsk movement, which helped drive the test site’s closure, showed that public pressure could move nuclear policy — and for Kazakhstan, cooperation with civil society has since been less a supplement to disarmament diplomacy than part of its foundation.

September 8 carries another anniversary. On that date in 1957, before 50,000 young people gathered at a stadium in Yokohama, Josei Toda, second president of the Soka Gakkai, issued a declaration calling for the abolition of nuclear weapons, condemning them as an absolute evil that threatened the right of people everywhere to exist and entrusting their abolition to the next generation. The peace activity of Soka Gakkai International (SGI), a lay Buddhist organization, traces its origin to that declaration.

A Group photo of participants of the regional conference on the humanitarian consequences of nuclear weapons and nuclear-free-zone in Central Asia held on August 29, 2023. Credit: Jibek Joly TV Channel

Official portrait of Kassym-Jomart Tokayev. Credit: President of the Republic of Kazakhstan

For Japanese readers the connection is direct. Hiroshima and Nagasaki experienced the use of nuclear weapons in war; Semipalatinsk experienced the consequences of testing them. During his visit to Japan in December 2025, President Kassym-Jomart Tokayev warned at United Nations University in Tokyo that nuclear risks were rising again, invoking all three names in a call for concrete steps to reduce nuclear danger.

Twenty years after the treaty was signed, its significance may lie not only in what Central Asia chose to reject, but in what it has continued to build — a regional security architecture that seeks to make nuclear weapons less central, less legitimate and, ultimately, unnecessary.

Note: This article is brought to you by　INPS Japan in collaboration with Soka Gakkai International in consultative status with ECOSOC.

IPS UN Bureau

Credit: Conny Odengrund / Wiki Commons

By Jordan Ryan
Sep 11 2026 (IPS)

 
Late in August I stood at Dag Hammarskjöld’s grave in Uppsala. It is a quiet place, a long way from New York and from the wars the United Nations exists to prevent.

He died sixty-five years ago this month, on 18 September 1961, in an aircraft crash near Ndola, in what is now Zambia. He was fifty-six, on his way to seek a ceasefire in the Congo, where the secession of the mineral-rich province of Katanga had drawn a newly independent country into conflict and great-power rivalry.

Leaving the cemetery, I found myself thinking about the office he held and about a practice he helped build that the organisation has praised ever since but never fully sustained.

Hammarskjöld treated preventive diplomacy as a working method. He travelled repeatedly into crises, used the Secretary-General’s office when local conflicts threatened to become arenas of great-power rivalry, and kept an independent United Nations presence where member states could not or would not go. He negotiated before positions hardened and violence became harder to stop.

Suez, Lebanon and the Congo were very different crises, but he approached them as exercises of the same craft. He did not always succeed. The point was not that prevention always worked. It was that he regarded it as part of the job.

Preventive diplomacy has been restated as a priority many times since. Boutros Boutros-Ghali gave it a doctrine in An Agenda for Peace. Kofi Annan strengthened early-warning and mediation capacity. Ban Ki-moon issued the first Secretary-General’s report devoted to preventive diplomacy in 2011. António Guterres made the case again in A New Agenda for Peace. Member states restated it in the Pact for the Future, and the UN80 Initiative is reviewing how mandates are designed, implemented and assessed.

Doctrine is not what is missing.

Prevention remains politically difficult because success is hard to prove. A crisis that does not happen leaves no ruins, no displaced population and no peacekeeping budget against which the cost of prevention can be measured. Governments that will pay heavily once violence has escalated are often reluctant to fund the diplomacy that might have kept it from escalating.

The problem is also institutional. The United Nations is often better at identifying risk than at acting on it early. Sudan, eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo, the Sahel, Myanmar and Gaza all illustrate, in different ways, how warning signs can accumulate while political space for preventive action narrows. Information moves through the system, but knowledge does not create an obligation to respond.

That is the problem the next Secretary-General will inherit.

Member states choosing António Guterres’s successor have asked useful questions about gender, regional representation, management and reform. They have also asked about prevention. Candidates have described it as a central responsibility of the office, proposed stronger mediation capacity and invoked Article 99 of the Charter, which allows the Secretary-General to bring to the Security Council’s attention any matter that may threaten international peace and security.

The harder question is what the office will do when warning signs are mounting, information is moving through the United Nations system, and the Security Council is unable or unwilling to act.

Hammarskjöld confronted that problem in a different era. In 1960, during the Congo crisis, Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev demanded his resignation and proposed replacing the Secretary-General with a three-person ‘troika’ representing competing political blocs.

Hammarskjöld refused.

“It is very easy to resign; it is not so easy to stay on,” he told the General Assembly on 3 October 1960. “It is very easy to bow to the wish of a big Power. It is another matter to resist.”

Earlier in the same statement he had explained whom the United Nations was for.

“It is not the Soviet Union or indeed any other big Powers who need the United Nations for their protection,” he said. “It is all the others.”

That remains the strongest argument for an independent Secretary-General.

The major powers possess other instruments. Smaller and middle powers have fewer. When the Security Council works, the Secretary-General is one actor among several. When it does not, the office may still provide a channel for mediation, bring neglected crises into international view and give political weight to countries that cannot command attention through military or economic power.

That is why Hammarskjöld’s example matters now. He answered Khrushchev in public, and he could do so because of what he had already done in Suez, in Lebanon and in the Congo. His authority came from judgement, discretion and a willingness to keep working when powerful governments wanted him to stop.

Nor should prevention depend on finding another exceptional individual.

Sixty-five years after Ndola, the better tribute is to finish some of the work Hammarskjöld left behind: choose a Secretary-General prepared to exercise the office’s independence while prevention still has a chance to work, and give that office the political and institutional support to do so.

The great powers can still look after themselves.

The United Nations still matters most to “all the others.”

The author at Dag Hammarskjöld’s grave in Uppsala.

Related articles:

A Hundred Dollars for War, One for Peace
Governing the Ungovernable
When Destruction Becomes Policy: What the Munich Security Report Reveals About the Future of Global Governance

Jordan Ryan is a Senior Consultant to the Folke Bernadotte Academy and Senior Counsel (Social Impact) for Hamilton Advisors. He is also a former Vice President for Peace Programs at The Carter Center, where he led strategic planning and implementation of peacebuilding initiatives worldwide from 2015-2018.

This article was issued by the Toda Peace Institute and is being republished from the original with their permission.

IPS UN Bureau

UN staff members at the SDG Action Zone outside UN Headquarters in New York, 2019. Credit: UN Photo/Laura Jarriel

By Samuel King and Inés M. Pousadela
BRUSSELS, Belgium / MONTEVIDEO, Uruguay, Sep 9 2026 (IPS)

When the UN High-level Political Forum on Sustainable Development (HLPF) ended in New York in July, it took two recorded votes for states to pass a ministerial declaration that, until recently, would have been adopted without controversy. Uruguay, speaking for the Group of 77 developing countries plus China, pushed through the deletion of a reference to the agreement reached at the COP28 climate summit. Israel forced a vote on a paragraph about self-determination for people under occupation. Russia dissociated itself from the passage on peace and security. The wrangling revealed the extent to which the consensus that in 2015 saw all 193 UN states agree the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) – a common blueprint to end poverty, tackle climate change and build accountable institutions by 2030 – has been eroded.

The problem goes beyond this latest session. Progress is tracked through Voluntary National Reviews, the self-assessments states present at the Forum. Thirty-six countries did so this year. But the process asks nothing of states beyond showing up. There’s no independent verification of data, and governments aren’t required to consult civil society. States that restrict civic space at home face no consequences. Seventeen of the 36 states that presented reviews this year are rated by the CIVICUS Monitor as having repressed or closed civic space.

A forum built to hold states accountable has become a stage on which the least accountable governments may perform compliance, while the civil society groups meant to keep them honest are locked out of the room.

In the room but not at the table

Where civil society can act, it supports delivery of the SDGs. Sustained advocacy delivered Colombia’s ban on child marriage in 2025 and continues to drive the campaign against female genital mutilation in The Gambia. In Nepal, local organisations have made monitoring the goals more inclusive by supplying data on excluded communities that official statistics miss.

Yet the HLPF gives civil society little formal standing. Civil society was in the building all week — CIVICUS co-organised sessions on civic space and the SDGs, supported a global forum on the future of multilateralism and ran a workshop on the post-2030 agenda — but it didn’t get a seat at the table where decisions are made.

Showing up can also be dangerous. In 2025, most civil society representatives from El Salvador withdrew over fears of reprisals. Activists elsewhere describe reprisals for exposing gaps between official reporting and reality on the ground, often with little practical support from the UN despite guidelines that are supposed to protect them.

SDG 16 on peace, justice and strong institutions is meant to be the foundation for the other 16 goals, and its Target 16.10 commits states to protecting fundamental freedoms. But it’s routinely ignored. The CIVICUS Monitor has tracked year-on-year regression in civic space conditions since the SDGs came into effect. Where civil society can’t operate freely, it’s no surprise if the goals it should help implement and monitor aren’t being met.

Falling short

The UN Secretary-General’s 2026 report on the SDGs made clear how delivery is falling short. It found that out of 139 targets with reliable trend data, only 15 per cent are on track, while a further 15 per cent have regressed below their 2015 baselines.

But rather than take responsibility for their failures, powerful states are using the lack of progress as a pretext to demand less ambition. The USA has dismissed the SDGs as an infringement on national sovereignty. Speaking at an event during the Forum, Russia’s representative said that the goals’ ambitions had proven ‘quite far away from reality’, blaming the design of the goals rather than states’ failure to deliver. For many states, an ambitious rights-based agenda is no longer a promise to keep, but a commitment to be backed away from.

Yet evidence suggests that when political will exists, change can come. The UN’s Asia-Pacific review presented at the HLPF showed that the number of children in child labour fell from 49 to 28 million between 2020 and 2025. What holds back achievement of the SDGs is not flawed design, but political choices.

As negotiations begin on what comes after the goals’ 2030 deadline, some states and UN officials favour extending the current goals, on the reasonable logic that reopening them in today’s political climate risks producing something weaker. But the framework agreed in 2015 wasn’t built for a world of growing authoritarianism, accelerating climate breakdown, coordinated backlash against gender equality, increasing militarisation, collapsing multilateral cooperation and rapid technological development. A post-2030 agenda will have to take account of all this, along with the financial strain on the multilateral system.

Forus, a network of national civil society platforms, has mapped three scenarios for the post-2030 process – continuity, reset or fragmentation – and insists that whichever prevails, accountability, civic space and financing reform must sit at the centre. Several upcoming moments will reveal the direction of travel. Next year’s Commission on the Status of Women and Economic and Social Council’s Youth Forum, along with the SDG Summit and the 2028 Pact for the Future review, all offer opportunities that must be seized to bring civil society into the process, identify where implementation is failing and match ambition with achievement.

Samuel King is a researcher with the Horizon Europe-funded research project ENSURED: Shaping Cooperation for a World in Transition at CIVICUS: World Alliance for Citizen Participation.

For interviews or more information, please contact research@civicus.org

Observing some of the changes over the last year and a half in the Government of the USA, one question that comes to mind is whether the greatest democracy in the world turning into a dictatorship? And, if so, how is this possible in a country with one of the most articulate and thoughtful constitutions ever written –a constitution which clearly sets out checks and balances precisely to avoid undue concentration of power.

Daud Khan

First an amusing anecdote from the past on the topic on the US Constitution.

Kurt Friedrich Gödel – mathematician, cosmologist, and philosopher – was one of the greatest minds of the last century. After the takeover of Austria by Hitler, Gödel, who was an Austrian national, was targeted by the Nazis. In 1939 he moved to the USA and ended up at the Institute of Advanced Studies in Princeton where his good friend, Einstein, was based.

After the war, in 1947, Gödel decided to apply for US citizenship. This involved, inter alia, an examination on the Constitution of the USA. As could be expected of someone of his intellect, Gödel did not study the document as others would – trying to memorize the main points and maybe reading some commentaries. He made a careful and thorough review and found what he called an “inner contradiction”. He told Einstein and Oskar Morgenstern, another friend at the Institute, about this flaw. A flaw that would allow the U.S.A. to legally become a fascist state!

At the citizenship exam, presided over by a Federal judge, and with Morgenstern and Einstein as witnesses, everything went smoothly until Gödel was asked by the judge where he was from. Gödel explained that he was from Austria, a country that had been a republic, but had a constitution that allowed it to become a dictatorship.

The judge commented that thankfully this could not happen in the USA. due to its constitution. Gödel response was basically that it could happen and that he could “prove it”. Luckily, the judge was perceptive enough to understand what was going on – that this clearly brilliant man was going to take him into a discussion that would prove complex and complicated. He did not pursue the matter of the Constitution any further, moved on to other routine questions, came up with positive response to the application for citizenship.

Gödel never wrote up his findings on the “inner contradiction”; neither did Morgenstern or Einstein. Most likely, the inner contradiction had to with Article V of the Constitution that sets out the procedures for changing the constitution – but without setting any substantive limits. So progressive change in Article V could change the constitution to make the USA a dictatorship.

But coming to the present.

I have just finished the book “Regime Change” by Haberman and Swan. According to the authors, President Trump has managed to bend the entire Government of the USA, and its institutions, to implementing his wishes. The House of Representatives and the Senate no longer act as a separate pillar of Government, providing checks and balances on the executive power of the President; likewise, the courts, which have progressively been filled with Trump nominees, may hem and haw, but have largely not provided a firm barrier to him. The top universities in the world, such as Columbia, have caved in to his demands. Law firms have forked out millions to stay onside and media companies have taken off the air the shows that criticized or made fun of President Trump. Even iconic cultural institution such as the Smithsonian Institution and the Kennedy Center have had to make changes at his behest.

Needless to say, there has been pushback. The Supreme Court struck down several initiatives, such as those on tariffs. However, the administration has been creative to work around these, using laws and regulations designed for other times and other situations. Others have also resisted. Harvard University lead a spirited fight against the bullying by the President’s henchmen; several famous artists refused to perform at the Kennedy Center after it was renamed the Trump-Kennedy Center; and many journalists, despite repeated insults and demeaning comments from President at press conferences, continue to write articles and OpEds that criticize the President’s actions and decisions

But despite the opposition, it is difficult to ignore how easily authoritarianism has taken root in such an open and liberal society as the USA. And, it has been done not by changing the constitutions, not by overthrowing institutions, and not by a coup d’état. Rather it has been done by browbeating, insulting and bullying people who run the very institution that should set limits on Presidential action.

And this leads to the next question: How was it possible that people who are among richest, the most powerful, the best informed, and the most qualified, not only allowed themselves to be subject to such harassment but actually went on to do what was asked of them? Was it that they wanted to accumulate more wealth and power? Was it the fear of being excluded from the “power circles” that matter?

Whatever, the reason, surely they are aware of what they are doing? Surely they understand that their actions ware undermining democracy, liberalism and the rule of law – values that underpinned the domestic and international order that led to an unprecedented period of growth and peace. Surely they know that silence and not speaking is tantamount to complicity?

Daud Khan is a retired UN staff based in Rome. He has degrees in economics from LSE and Oxford, where he was a Rhodes Scholar; and a degree in Environmental Management from Imperial College London.

IPS UN Bureau

Protests during the World Conference against Racism, Racial Discrimination, Xenophobia and Related Intolerance, held in Durban, South Africa, from 31 August to 7 September 2001. Credit: NCDHR

By Paul Divakar Namala
LONDON, Sep 8 2026 (IPS)

My name is Paul Divakar Namala. I am the Executive Director of The Inclusivity Project and Convenor of the Global Forum of Communities Discriminated on Work and Descent. My work focuses on communities whose social status, occupations and exclusion are inherited across generations through caste, analogous hierarchies and systems rooted in traditional slavery.

Durban also taught us that affected communities must speak for themselves. They must not be treated merely as victims or sources of testimony, but as human rights defenders and leaders who define the problem and shape the solution

I am a Dalit. Dalits were historically treated as “untouchable” and placed at the bottom of, or outside, the caste hierarchy. This can shape every part of life: access to a common water source, where a child sits at school, where a family may live, what work a person is expected to perform and whether others will eat with or even be seen with them.

Poverty is widespread in South Asia, but its burden falls disproportionately on Dalits because caste restricts access to land, education, dignified employment, public services and political power.

Inherited hierarchies remain deeply entrenched

Across South Asia, constitutional guarantees and democratic institutions coexist with caste discrimination and practices of untouchability.

These persist in villages and cities, and in public institutions, private workplaces and corporations. Dalits may face threats or violence for asserting land rights, entering places of worship, marrying across caste, accessing common resources, seeking education or standing for elected office.

Dalits in South Asia are not alone. Roma communities in Europe and beyond, Burakumin in Japan, Haratine and other communities affected by traditional slavery in the Sahel, Osu communities in Nigeria, Quilombola communities in Brazil and other communities in Latin America experience distinct histories and realities.

They should not be collapsed into a single category. Yet many face structurally connected patterns: inherited stigma and social status, endogamy, segregation in housing and education, exclusion from land and decent work, confinement to dangerous or degrading occupations, trafficking and forced labour, and backlash violence when they resist. We describe these peoples, in all their diversity, as Communities Discriminated on Work and Descent, or CDWD.

Reconnecting with my identity

Where I grew up in India, my family faced repeated attacks as we asserted our rights, including rights over public land. When I was 21, a petrol-bomb attack took the life of my mother.

Only as I grew older did I understand how much of what happened to my family was connected to caste. My father taught me that our purpose should not be limited to seeking justice for ourselves; we had to dismantle the structures that allow such abuses to continue. That teaching guided me away from vengeance and towards challenging the social norms and caste structures that treat some human beings as inferior, exploit their vulnerability and assign them a life of servitude.

Together with my spouse, who came from a different caste, I helped build a community of human rights defenders. For too long, Dalits were portrayed only as victims or survivors. We are also organisers, advocates and defenders of human rights. This work began more than four decades ago, when I was in my twenties.

In 1998, together with leaders from across India, we formed the National Campaign on Dalit Human Rights. We wanted caste-based discrimination and violence to be documented and discussed nationally and internationally. Looking back, I realise how groundbreaking that effort was, especially with so few resources.

Bringing caste to Durban

When we learned that the United Nations was organising a World Conference Against Racism, our immediate response was: “We have to be there.” We were new to these international processes. We contacted people working on caste discrimination and were invited to a preparatory meeting in Bellagio that helped shape the agenda for Durban.

At Bellagio, many participants supported putting caste on the agenda, including Pierre Sané, then Secretary General of Amnesty International. Civil society succeeded in making caste a major issue in the Durban process, but several Asian governments resisted its explicit inclusion in the final Durban Declaration and Programme of Action, arguing that it would target their countries or interfere in internal matters.

Although the final Declaration did not contain the explicit recognition we sought, what the movement achieved was extraordinary. Durban gave unprecedented international visibility to caste discrimination and helped move Dalit rights from the margins towards the centre of international human rights debate.

Dalit activists were present in large numbers, carrying documentation, testimonies, drums and protest across the conference grounds. People approached us and said, sometimes awkwardly but with genuine solidarity, “You are untouchable? Let me hug you.” Those encounters showed both how unfamiliar the issue was internationally and how quickly human connection could challenge the stigma imposed upon us.

Activists protest caste and descent-based discrimination during the World Conference against Racism in Durban, South Africa, held from 31 August to 7 September 2001. Placards call attention to caste, racism and the struggle for Dalit rights. Credit: NCDHR

Solidarity, resistance and the unfinished agenda

Over the years, we have connected with communities and advocates in Somalia, Ethiopia, Kenya, Niger, Mauritania and Nigeria, with Roma movements across Europe and beyond, and with Quilombola and other communities in Latin America.

Their histories are different, but their struggles reveal how inherited status, stigmatised work and exclusion can reinforce one another across generations. Working together makes these structures visible and prevents governments and institutions from excusing them in the name of culture or tradition.

Durban also taught us that affected communities must speak for themselves. They must not be treated merely as victims or sources of testimony, but as human rights defenders and leaders who define the problem and shape the solution. Solidarity does not require us to claim that every oppression is identical. It requires us to respect distinct histories while recognising common structures of dehumanisation and standing together against them.

The fight is far from over. We are working for stronger international recognition, including comprehensive CERD guidance and, ultimately, a Declaration on the Rights of Communities Discriminated on Work and Descent.

Yet the real test is always on the ground. International declarations have meaning only when they change the life of a woman confronting untouchability, a sanitation worker demanding safe and dignified work, a Roma child resisting school segregation, or a Haratine family seeking freedom, land and equality.

Learn more about racial justice with Amnesty International’s online course.

Excerpt:

Countries of the Global South are not merely recipients of development support; they are contributors of knowledge, innovation and investment. Credi: Jorge Luis Baños/IPS

By Hua Yang
ROME, Sep 8 2026 (IPS)

The world’s agrifood systems are under mounting pressure from economic uncertainty, climate change and persistent inequalities. Farmers, rural communities and the most vulnerable are bearing the heaviest burden. We must act faster and scale practical, proven solutions.

The United Nations Day for South-South Cooperation celebrates more than solidarity. It recognizes the ideas, innovation and shared commitment emerging from the Global South. It also reminds us that cooperation among developing countries and with their partners is essential to achieving the 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development. Countries of the Global South are not merely recipients of development support; they are contributors of knowledge, innovation and investment.

Knowledge from the Global South is rooted in practical experience and tested under real-world conditions. Triangular cooperation can amplify its impact by bringing in financing or technical expertise from developed countries, multilateral organizations and other partners - while keeping cooperation led and owned by countries of the South

For more than 40 years, the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations (FAO) has helped countries share expertise and technologies through South-South and Triangular Cooperation (SSTC). This cooperation has strengthened food security and improved livelihoods across the Global South.

SSTC works because countries that have faced similar development challenges can share relevant and adaptable solutions.

Knowledge from the Global South is rooted in practical experience and tested under real-world conditions. Triangular cooperation can amplify its impact by bringing in financing or technical expertise from developed countries, multilateral organizations and other partners – while keeping cooperation led and owned by countries of the South.

Above all, SSTC is built on partnership, not dependency. Every country has knowledge to offer, and FAO has seen that knowledge translated into practical results.

The long-standing partnership between FAO and China is one example. Since the 1990s, more than 1,200 Chinese experts have supported agricultural development in developing countries, sharing field-tested expertise in crop production, aquaculture, livestock and irrigation.

Through the FAO–China South-South Cooperation Programme and related initiatives, countries have strengthened technical capacity, increased agricultural productivity and improved livelihoods. The results show how targeted technical cooperation can deliver benefits far beyond national borders.

Other partnerships are producing results. For 18 years, the Brazil–FAO South-South Cooperation Programme has enabled countries across Latin America and the Caribbean to exchange knowledge. Since 2021, the FAO–Türkiye Partnership Programmes have supported countries in Central Asia.

In Central Asia’s Fergana Valley, FAO has also joined forces with the United Nations Office for South-South Cooperation, with support from the Russian Federation, to help Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan and Uzbekistan advance climate-smart agriculture. Farmer Field Schools, improved soil and water management, appropriate technologies and value-chain diversification show how SSTC can strengthen farmers’ livelihoods.

These examples reflect a wider transformation. Across the Global South, countries are not only receiving development support; they are contributing knowledge, innovation and investment.

FAO’s role as a trusted convener and technical facilitator is to connect these experiences with countries seeking solutions. That is why we upgraded the SSTC Gateway: to broaden dialogue, gather feedback and share Global South’s innovations, knowledge and experience.

This role has never been more important. FAO’s expanding SSTC portfolio reflects growing demand for this approach.

From rice value chains and digital agriculture to sustainable apiculture and support for Small Island Developing States, SSTC is mobilizing knowledge, resources and partnerships to deliver measurable impact.

Looking ahead, we must ensure that SSTC delivers stronger, measurable results for farmers, rural communities, women, youth and future generations. Women farmers, in particular, have a critical role in transforming agrifood systems.

FAO’s South-South and Triangular Cooperation Division will continue working with Members and partners to bring these solutions forward, adapt them to local contexts and help build agrifood systems that are more efficient, inclusive, resilient and sustainable. As demand for SSTC grows, FAO will expand partnerships, mobilize investment and make proven solutions easier to adapt and scale.

When the Global South leads, the world benefits. When countries learn from one another, invest in one another and shape solutions together, we move closer to better production, better nutrition, a better environment and a better life for all, leaving no one behind.

Excerpt:

Panelists and participants discuss Japan’s death penalty at a symposium examining capital punishment through the lens of human dignity, held on September 5, 2026, at St. Ignatius Church in Yotsuya, Tokyo. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri / INPS Japan

By Katsuhiro Asagiri
TOKYO, Japan, Sep 8 2026 (IPS)

A symposium examining Japan’s death penalty through the lens of human dignity was held on September 5 at Joseph Hall of St. Ignatius Church in Yotsuya, Tokyo.

Brochure of the Symposium titled, “Rethinking the Death Penalty: With Human Dignity in View.” Credit: The Association of Religious Leaders and Scholars Considering the Death Penalty

It was supported by eight organizations: the Jesuit Social Center, the Conference on Religion in the Modern World (CORMOS), the Japan Buddhist Federation, the International Institute for the Study of Religions, the Sophia University Institute of Grief Care, the Japanese Committee of the World Conference of Religions for Peace (WCRP), the Soka Gakkai Peace Committee, and the Institute of Engaged Buddhism.

The gathering brought together legal scholars, journalists, a bereaved family member, a former prison officer, younger participants and religious figures, each approaching Japan’s death penalty from a different experience and perspective.

Religious studies scholar Susumu Shimazono stressed that the purpose was not to decide whether capital punishment should be abolished, but to listen and learn.

The questions extended beyond punishment: how to support victims, prevent wrongful convictions and violence, and hold institutions accountable for decisions over life and death.

The international picture is mixed. Amnesty International reported that 145 countries had abolished capital punishment in law or practice by the end of 2025. Yet recorded executions rose to at least 2,707 that year, excluding unverified totals from China, North Korea and Vietnam.

Japan’s Justice Ministry has defended retention by citing public opinion and serious crime. But public support and justification under human rights principles are different questions.

Safeguards Before Irreversible Punishment

Prof. Makoto Ida. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri / INPS Japan

He also distinguished wrongful convictions from sentencing errors: even where guilt is established, overlooked mitigating circumstances may lead to death rather than life imprisonment.

He also expressed his view that hanging constitutes cruel punishment under Japan’s Constitution.

“Immediate abolition of the death penalty is not the only option,” he said.

Stronger safeguards, reviewing execution methods and temporarily suspending executions were possible steps. Ida argued that victims’ demands for punishment could not themselves justify capital punishment, while acknowledging their grief and anger.

Deterrence required equal caution. A 2012 U.S. National Research Council review found that the studies it examined could not establish whether capital punishment increased, reduced or had no effect on homicide rates. That was not proof of no effect.

Ida nevertheless urged that public fears be taken seriously. Reform must address organized crime and reoffending, rather than simply replace one punishment with another.

The Human Cost of Execution

Keiko Horikawa. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri / INPS Japan

She also recalled interviewing a former judicial research official involved in preparing the Supreme Court ruling underlying the Nagayama standard, the factors courts consider when choosing between death and life imprisonment. He disputed treating those factors as a formula for execution.

Horikawa’s book Kyokaishi (The Prison Chaplain) follows a Buddhist priest who accompanied condemned prisoners. She recalled his words:

“No one has ever been made happy by an execution.”

This was his observation, not a verdict on every bereaved family’s experience. It nevertheless raised a crucial distinction: completing a sentence does not necessarily end the suffering surrounding a crime.

Horikawa called for suspending executions and openly examining victims’ support, prison officers’ psychological burdens, costs and hanging itself.

A Bereaved Sister’s Unanswered Question

Nobuko. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri / INPS Japan

“I want to prevent reoffending and stop more people from experiencing this grief,” she said.

She resisted being assigned to either camp. Some bereaved people want execution; others want offenders to live with their crimes; still others cannot bear to think about the case.

“I think each is an expression of the grief that person carries,” she said.

Nobuko acknowledged that offenders retain human rights. “Recognizing the human rights of offenders does not, in itself, deny the human rights of victims.”

But who addresses the rights taken from those killed, and the needs of families left behind? Support should not depend on whether a family favors capital punishment.

The United Nations’ 1985 declaration on justice for crime victims encompasses access to justice, fair treatment, restitution, compensation and assistance. Punishment alone is not the whole response.

Nobuko asked a further question: “What kind of society would prevent people from becoming offenders who face the death penalty?”

Her conversations with prisoners revealed experiences of abuse and isolation. Understanding those histories does not excuse crime. But punishment after violence cannot substitute for examining whether earlier support might have prevented it.

She has begun creating opportunities for parents to share experiences. That is her choice, not an obligation other bereaved families should be expected to shoulder. Prevention also requires institutions, not merely individual goodwill.

“I am neither for nor against the death penalty,” she said, describing her determination to keep thinking about life, guilt and suffering.

Toshio Sakamoto. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri / INPS Japan

Former prison officer Toshio Sakamoto argued that restrictions on outside contact make changes in condemned prisoners difficult for society to see.

He also recalled his long acquaintance with Iwao Hakamada, who spent decades under sentence of death before his acquittal at a retrial in 2024. The case raises questions about interrogation, evidence disclosure and timely remedies.

Trust in justice depends not only on the authority to decide, but on the ability to acknowledge and correct error before irreversible harm occurs.

He also questioned increasingly lengthy life imprisonment. Japan’s life sentences permit parole in law; the issue is how public safety, victims’ concerns and evidence of rehabilitation are assessed in practice.

For Sorane Sakihama, a graduate student from Okinawa, studying in France first challenged her assumption that capital punishment was justice for victims. International exchanges later brought her face to face with people affected by wrongful death sentences.

Invoking the Okinawan expression “Nuchi du takara” — life is the greatest treasure — she connected her opposition to execution with her opposition to war. She emphasized creating spaces where young people can discuss difficult issues without needing settled opinions.

Sorane Sakihama, a graduate student from Okinawa, speaks about how international dialogue and her encounters with people affected by wrongful death sentences shaped her views on capital punishment, during a symposium at St. Ignatius Church in Tokyo on September 5, 2026. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri / INPS Japan

From Dialogue to Accountability

SDGs Goal No 16.

Sustainable Development Goal 16 does not explicitly require abolition. It does call for reducing violence, protecting children, equal access to justice, accountable institutions and inclusive decision-making.

That provides a practical framework: Are victims receiving sustained support? Can doubtful convictions be effectively reviewed? Are prison staff’s burdens recognized? Is prevention reducing harm? Can citizens obtain the information needed to judge the system?

Disagreement over abolition need not prevent scrutiny of these questions.

Can people change? What does atonement mean? How should society support victims and prevent violence? How much power over life and death should the state possess?

A new dialogue on those questions began in a Tokyo church.

This article is brought to you by INPS Japan in collaboration with Soka Gakkai International in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.

IPS UN Bureau

It is nearly a year since the UN Security Council (UNSC) adopted Resolution 2803 on 17 November, 2025, endorsing President Trump’s 20-point framework ostensibly designed to end the war in Gaza and create a roadmap for long-term stability. It is not clear what progress has been made. In August 2026 The Jerusalem Post reported “the IDF continues almost daily strikes in Gaza”, killing more than 1,200 Palestinians since the US-brokered ceasefire deal came into effect, seizing more territory, and continuing to restrict the movement of people and goods into and out of Gaza. Nickolay Mladenov, the UN High Representative on the Board of Peace, wrote in early August 2026 that “two days of strikes across Gaza have killed civilians and destroyed medical supplies that people depend on”. Ironically, this genocidal strike happened only a few days after a US-brokered Hamas disarmament deal, which Trump called, “a monumental step” towards peace and security.

Anis Chowdhury

In May 2026 the Board of Peace claimed in its report to the Security Council that the conditions for Palestinians in Gaza have improved. However, the claim contradicts the findings of the UN Commission of Inquiry, headed by Justice Muralidhar, that “Israeli authorities and security forces have deliberately targeted Palestinian children, resulting in genocide and atrocity crimes in the Gaza Strip and war crimes in the West Bank”.

Earlier in a Conference Room Paper published in September 2025, the Commission established that the Israeli authorities and security forces had committed and were continuing to commit genocidal acts with the specific intent to destroy, in whole or in part, the Palestinian group in Gaza. This is despite the International Court of Justice issuing three binding orders for provisional measures, detailing the catastrophic conditions in Gaza and risks of irreparable prejudice to the rights of the Palestinian group.

Echoing the Commission, speakers at the UNSC on 28 August 2026 warned that Gaza is at a total breaking point, under constant attack with 2 million people still trapped, despite the Trump-negotiated October 2025 ceasefire and the Board’s new peace plan. Athena Rayburn, Executive Director of the Association of International Development Agencies said, “success must be measured by whether the Board of Peace, international stabilization force and National Committee for the Administration of Gaza provide immediate protection for civilians; and in the long term, whether they move Gaza towards the required legal endpoint: The end of Israel’s unlawful presence and realization of the Palestinian people’s right to self-determination”.

Exclusionary Board of (un)Peace

Following the UNSC endorsement, Trump launched “Board of Peace” on the sidelines of the World Economic Forum on 22 January 2026. Trump, the self-assumed Chair of the Board, believed, “This Board has the chance to be one of the most consequential bodies ever created … to end decades of suffering, stop generations of hatred and bloodshed, and forge a beautiful, everlasting, and glorious peace for that region”.

However, many, including senior US lawmakers, view the Board as Trump’s attempt to undermine the United Nations, which he has repeatedly criticised. The Board’s charter makes no reference to either Gaza or the UN even though the original UN mandate for the Board called for it to focus on Gaza’s reconstruction and to aid the 2.2 million Palestinians forcibly displaced by Israeli forces. Instead, according to its charter, the Board would “secure enduring peace in areas affected or threatened by conflict”. The Board’s charter also envisions that it will endure beyond the end of 2027 – the expiry date of the UNSC’s endorsement – as will Trump’s stewardship over it

While Trump could potentially chair the Board for life, its membership is solely by Trump’s invitation and requiring at least US$1bn contribution. Palestine is not a member, but Israel and its prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu – who faces an International Criminal Court (ICC) arrest warrant over alleged war crimes in Gaza – are part of the board. Furthermore, a member of the Trump-appointed Executive Board is also Israel’s appointed representative in the US-led Civil Military Coordination Center tasked with humanitarian relief in Gaza.

Palestinians have been assigned to its lower-tier technocratic committee, while former UK prime minister and “war-criminal”, Tony Blair, Trump’s son-in-law, Jared Kushner, and Trump’s long-time friend and real estate investor, Steve Witkoff, sit on the executive board along with US Secretary of State, Marco Rubio.

How can a so-called Peace Board so intertwined with the genocidal entities be entrusted to alleviate Palestinian suffering? Is it a surprise that the air strikes and other attacks on civilian areas in Gaza have intensified even damaging UN facilities? On 25 August 2026 Israeli forces forcibly entered UNRWA’s Kalandia Training Centre in East Jerusalem and unlawfully seized it, ignoring the fact that it is an inviolable UN premise immune from any form of interference.

Unaccountable and whimsical

Meanwhile, Marco Rubio disclosed during his testimony before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee recently that the Trump administration had decided to transform the Board of Peace from a public international organization made up of member states (akin to the United Nations) into an international nongovernmental organization (INGO). He gave no indication as to how and when that decision was made, violating UNSC resolution 2803 which warranted that the Board would have international legal personality and be subject to international law as a multilateral organisation.

Transforming the Board into an INGO may better conform to the Board’s exclusionary structure, which gives Trump ultimate decision-making authority, including over financial matters. Rubio explicitly said during his testimony that the US Congress can have oversight only on the money that the US puts in while he was vague about the fiduciary arrangement of the Board’s finance. In the meantime, investigative journalism uncovered serious financial irregularities, opacity and conflict of interest involving Kushner, Witkoff and some prominent Israeli entities.

Alarmingly, making the Board an INGO removes member states’ power to steer the Board and to mitigate the Trump administration’s worst impulses. Trump’s inner circle will continue to call the shots, with Kushner saying the Board will be run “like we do [it] in the private sector”, while the Board is being directed by figures on the Israeli and US political right.

UNSC must disendorse (un)Peace Board

The members of the UNSC voted in favour of endorsing Trump’s Comprehensive Plan to End the Gaza Conflict and the Board of Peace as a pragmatic step despite some trepidation due to the plan’s vague terms and lack of a timetable associated with its phases that would culminate in a political horizon for Palestinians. They hoped that Trump, given his relationship with Netanyahu – an alleged war-criminal – would be able to stop him from committing genocide of the Palestinians.

But Trump continues to condone Israel’s ceasefire violations as intensified Israeli attacks kill thousands of innocent Palestinians. Trump and his so-called Board of Peace failed to condemn Israeli National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir who openly called for killing “30 to 40” Palestinians in Gaza nightly. Nor have they condemned Chief Sephardic Rabbi David Yosef who asserted, “there is no such thing as a Palestinian people” and Palestinians have “no rights”, despite a global outcry.

Meanwhile Trump’s Board of Peace dismissed pragmatic approaches to Hamas’ disarmament. Instead, it has promoted ideas of a hyper-developed “new Gaza” paying little heed to Palestinians’ wishes or to their history. These neo-colonial plans undermine any real prospect of self-determination.

In light of the Trump plan’s manifest failures and the Peace Board’s violations of UNSC mandate, including its financial impropriety, UNSC members should urgently force a vote calling for the withdrawal of the Council’s endorsement. Failing to do so would allow Trump and Israel to use the alleged comprehensive peace plan to provide a cover for Israel’s genocide, while the self-styled Board of Peace undermines the United Nations.

Anis Chowdhury, Emeritus Professor, Western Sydney University (Australia). He held senior UN positions in Bangkok and New York and served as Special Assistant to the Chief Advisor for Finance (with the status and rank of State Minister) in the Professor Yunus-led Interim Government. E-mail: anis.z.chowdhury@gmail.com; a.chowdhury@westernsydney.edu.au

IPS UN Bureau

The Fourth International Conference on Financing for Development (FfD4), Sevilla, 2025. Credit: Forus

By Justina Kaluinaitė
NEW YORK, Sep 7 2026 (IPS)

The 81st session of the UN General Assembly (UNGA81) opens tomorrow at a particularly important moment for multilateralism. The UN80 reform initiative has entered what the Secretary-General describes as a decisive phase. Member States are selecting the next Secretary-General. The 2030 Agenda is entering its final four years, while conversations about what should follow it are beginning.

These discussions are often treated separately, but they are connected: will the next phase of multilateralism ensure the UN listens to communities and improve accountability? Will it reduce inequality, bring decisions and resources closer to communities and strengthen human rights?

We believe it must. Hence, trust, transformation and delivery are at the heart of the choices ahead. Defending multilateralism, however, does not mean resisting reform. It means strengthening its capacity to fulfil the purpose for which it exists: to advance peace, sustainable development and human rights.

“As we seek reform, we are acutely aware that the system has been built over decades and that many of us may unintentionally continue to reproduce it. We therefore propose to use a simple three-world framing: the world we have, the world we dream of, and the world we can change. In doing so, our message is: shifting the power is not an optional, technical adjustment; it is an absolute political and institutional necessity,” says Dr. Moses Isooba, Executive Director of the Uganda National NGO Forum (UNNGOF) and Forus Co-Chair.

Reform can bring the UN closer to people

UN80 represents a genuine opportunity: not to reduce the ambition of the United Nations, but to strengthen its ability to deliver. There are encouraging foundations to build on. Member States have agreed that mandate reform should focus on impact, preserve the balance between peace and security, human rights and development, strengthen accountability and evidence-based decision-making, and ensure that mandates are timely, coherent and adequately resourced.

Particularly important will be what reform means at the country and regional levels. For many civil society organisations, particularly in places where civic freedoms are under pressure, the United Nations is far from abstract. International norms can provide protection and legitimacy. UN mechanisms can create avenues for accountability. Multilateral spaces can enable local and national concerns to reach decision-makers when other channels are closed.

Current proposals envisage more coherent, responsive and contextualised UN country presences and stronger coordination through the Resident Coordinator system. This could enhance access to expertise across development, human rights, humanitarian action, peace and prevention from across the UN. The ambition is to make support more responsive to national priorities and needs rather than allowing institutional structures alone to determine how the system operates.

But country-centred should not mean government-only.

Understanding national priorities also requires listening to the people who experience policies and programmes in practice. Communities, civil society organisations, local authorities and social movements often see emerging challenges before institutions do. They also hold knowledge about what works, what does not and where international commitments are failing to reach people.

National NGO platforms and regional coalitions can play a particularly useful and strategic role. By bringing diverse civil society organisations together, they help connect community experience with national policy debates and link national and regional perspectives with global institutions — an approach which should be encouraged in the reform.

The same applies to accountability. Stronger mandate review and better use of evidence can help create a clearer line between what Member States agree, what institutions implement, what resources are used and what changes as a result. That is welcome. But measuring impact should also draw on the experience of those whom policies and programmes are intended to serve.

Ahead of the last UN General Assembly, Forus proposed three simple questions for assessing UN reform:

1. Does it reduce inequalities in who benefits and who is protected?
2. Does it bring decisions, resources and accountability closer to communities?
3. And does it strengthen rights, including human rights, gender equality and protection?

“UN reform will only be meaningful if it closes the distance between global institutions and the people they are meant to serve. For communities across Asia, this means stronger civic space, genuine participation in decision-making, and a multilateral system that is accountable not only to governments, but also to people whose rights, livelihoods and futures are shaped by its decisions. As we approach the final years of Agenda 2030, civil society must be recognised as an equal partner in shaping both delivery today and the global development framework that comes next,” says Zia ur Rehman, Secretary General, Asia Development Alliance (ADA).

Agenda 2030 and beyond

The same people-centred approach is needed as the international community enters the final years of Agenda 2030.

The Sustainable Development Goals have driven important progress, helped establish a shared global language for sustainable development and created a framework through which governments, civil society and other actors can hold ambition in common.

But implementation remains far from the level required. Of the 139 targets for which sufficient trend data are available, only 15 per cent are currently on track, according to the UN SDG Report 2026.

The response should not be to conclude that the SDGs themselves have failed. It should be to ask, with greater honesty and urgency, how can we accelerate what remains unfinished, and use what we have learned to shape what comes next.

Financing gaps, conflict, growing debt burdens, widening inequalities, weakened international cooperation and shrinking civic space all affect the ability of countries and communities to deliver sustainable development.

Earlier this year, Forus launched its Post-2030 Vision, built around reversing this trend: protecting the universal and rights-based promise of the SDGs while addressing the weaknesses that have constrained their implementation; particularly around financing, accountability, localisation and meaningful civil society participation.

The challenge is to understand what must be defended, what needs to be demanded, and what must be declined as international cooperation evolves.

That means matching ambition with the conditions required to translate commitments into reality: adequate and predictable financing, stronger accountability, inclusive decision-making and closer connections between global commitments and national and community-level implementation.

It also means recognising civic space and local leadership as part of the enabling environment for sustainable development. Communities and local actors need the resources, recognition and opportunity to contribute to the decisions that shape implementation, while civil society must be able to organise, participate and hold institutions accountable safely.

That requires renewed effort now while discussions about what comes after 2030 are beginning to emerge. This period offers an important opportunity to learn from implementation experience before positions become fixed and to involve civil society, communities and national and regional actors from the outset. As always, the process matters as much as the eventual framework. Decisions about participation, accountability and financing should not be settled first and opened to civil society afterwards.

Leadership for an evolving United Nations

The selection of the next United Nations Secretary-General is another important part of this moment. The next Secretary-General will inherit an institution under intense political and financial pressure. They will oversee the next phase of UN80, the final years of Agenda 2030 and a period in which the future development architecture will increasingly be contested. The next Secretary-General must have the independence, integrity and political courage to defend the UN’s purpose when powerful actors would prefer it not to.

Member States should therefore ask a more consequential question: Who is prepared to lead the UN according to its Charter when doing so is politically difficult?

That means leadership capable of defending international law consistently, without double standards. Leadership prepared to use the UN’s political and preventive tools rather than simply responding after crises escalate. Leadership that understands that peace and security, human rights and sustainable development cannot be traded against one another.

It also means a Secretary-General prepared to defend civic space and engage civil society not as an audience, but as an independent source of evidence, accountability and political legitimacy.

The selection process itself must reflect those principles. Forus has called for greater transparency and inclusion and for Member States to strongly consider qualified women candidates. Eight decades without a woman Secretary-General should itself provoke questions about representation within an institution committed to gender equality.

From global commitments to change where people live

As UNGA81 approaches, meaningful participation requires early access to information, inclusive and multilingual channels, and opportunities to engage beyond the ability to travel or navigate complex processes. It must also be safe, particularly as civil society actors face growing restrictions, intimidation and reprisals in many countries. And participation must have purpose: institutions should show how civil society’s evidence, experience and proposals have shaped their decisions.

The UN Charter begins with three enduring words: “We, the peoples.” As the United Nations reforms, chooses its next leadership and looks towards the future of sustainable development, we should go back to those words.

Does international cooperation reach people where they live? Does the UN listen and empower those closest to the challenges it seeks to address? Does it protect their rights and dignity? Can communities and civil society meaningfully contribute to the decisions that affect them? And do global commitments translate into tangible improvements in people’s lives?

UNGA81 offers an opportunity to bring the United Nations closer to that promise: closer to communities, more connected to civil society, and better equipped to deliver for the people it was created to serve.

Justina Kaluinaitė is Forus Chair

IPS UN Bureau

A female fish seller at a Saigon market was contacting her clients via her a smart phone. Digital technology has accelerated and facilitated business operations in South-East Asia. Credit: Unsplash / Robson Hatsukami Morgan

By Ruhimat Soerakoesoemah, Andrey Panteleev and Philip Diamant
BANGKOK, Thailand, Sep 7 2026 (IPS)

Physical borders are shrinking, and digital ones are quietly taking their place. As governments use digital transformation as a powerful driver of economic and sustainable development, the challenge is no longer simply a digital divide between those with technology and those without it. It is a question of digital fragmentation, where infrastructure, standards and regulations make cross-border cooperation more difficult.

This raises an important question of how economies in Asia and the Pacific can pursue digital sovereignty while remaining connected to trade, innovate and develop together. One promising answer lies in closer cooperation between the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) and the Eurasian Economic Union (EAEU). Both regions are trying to build stronger digital capabilities while keeping their economies open to cross-border trade. Despite their different economic structures and development pathways, the two blocs share many of the same digital ambitions and challenges.

Digital transformation has become a powerful driver of economic development, competitiveness and resilience. However, progress remains uneven within regions. While some countries are rapidly building digital infrastructure and services, others still face constraints in skills, financing and institutional capacity. This means digital transformation is no longer solely considered in terms of technology. Governments are increasingly seeing it as a strategic priority which is linked to competitiveness, national security, sovereignty and their citizens’ well-being. For regional blocs such as the EAEU and ASEAN, this makes cooperation and the exchange of experience more and more important.

In the EAEU, this ambition is reflected in the work of the Eurasian Economic Commission. In 2017, the EAEU launched its Digital Agenda, which serves as the overarching framework for digital transformation processes across members States. The EAEU’s regional approach is complemented by national efforts. A good example from Kazakhstan was how a dedicated ministry for artificial intelligence (AI) is established and that Kazakhstan already passed new laws on AI, cybersecurity and digital assets, and started running powerful computing centres. Kazakhstan’s nationwide AI training programme is already reaching thousands of people. This is a good example of what a push towards digital sovereignty can look like.

Such a similar ambition can be seen in the ASEAN region, where the ASEAN Digital Economy Framework Agreement (DEFA) is expected to be launched at the 49th ASEAN Summit this November. DEFA aims to create a more seamless regional digital economy by addressing areas, such as digital trade, cross-border shopping, e-signatures, cybersecurity, electronic payments and AI. The region has been asked for such a framework since SMEs account for 85% of jobs and 44.8% of GDP in South-East Asia, but they generate only around 18% of exports. At the same time, the region’s digital economy is already worth an estimated US$ 0.5 trillion and is expected to double to US$ 1 trillion by 2030. With an effective implementation of DEFA, this number can be further increased to US$ 2 trillion.

With all these developments, the complementary strengths of ASEAN and the EAEU are highlighted. The EAEU’s experience in building digital public platforms, solutions for critical infrastructure and cybersecurity frameworks is complemented with ASEAN’s dynamic markets, vibrant digital entrepreneurship and successful models for commercialising digital services. A stakeholder survey conducted by ESCAP across EAEU and ASEAN countries in 2025 found broad agreement on the nature of digital transformation, priority technologies and key risks. This suggests that, despite their different contexts, the two regions share significant common ground for cooperation.

This is where ESCAP can play an important convening role as the UN’s regional body for Asia and the Pacific. Through the project “Strengthening Regional Cooperation in Digital Transformation for Economic and Sustainable Development”, ESCAP is working with ASEAN and EAEU countries to help identify practical solutions, share experiences and advance opportunities for collaboration between the regions. Policymakers explored how both subregions can cooperate more efficiently across borders.

Interesting examples include the benefits of interoperability. Eleven South-East Asian economies now run their own QR-payment systems, with eight already working across at least one border. This same interoperability is starting to reach across other subregions, with a QR-code issued by a Russian bank already working in Viet Nam. These experiences demonstrate a clear scope to explore how similar approaches could support wider cross-border cooperation between ASEAN and the EAEU.

In hindsight, the first sentence of this blog could have been: Physical borders may be shrinking, but digital borders are still being drawn. Addressing digital fragmentation requires dialogue, shared standards, and practical cooperation that allows countries to benefit from the digital transformation. Initiatives like this aim to strengthen interoperability and knowledge sharing across subregions and promote a digital future of Asia that is connected, inclusive and supports sustainable development for all.

Ruhimat Soerakoesoemah, Head of Subregional Office for South-East Asia, ESCAP; Andrey Panteleev, Head of Economic Policy Strategies Section, Macroeconomic Policy Department, Eurasian Economic Commission; and Philip Diamant, Intern, Subregional Office for South-East Asia, ESCAP

IPS UN Bureau

Ouattara, senior midwife and head of the maternity unit at the Ayaou-Sokpa Health Centre in Côte d'Ivoire, consults with Awa, a pregnant woman, during a routine antenatal visit. Credit: UNFPA Côte d'Ivoire/Miléquêm Diarassouba

By Diene Keita and Jean Kaseya
NEW YORK / ADDIS ABABA, Sep 7 2026 (IPS)

Tonight, thousands of women across Africa will give birth. Whether they survive to see daylight will largely depend on where they live, how quickly they reach care, and whether the health system around them is ready to respond.

Maternal deaths in Africa have dropped 40 percent since 2000, but progress is now stalling. Africa still accounts for more than 70 percent of all maternal deaths worldwide. A woman facing pregnancy complications on the continent is around 130 times more likely to die than a woman in Europe or North America.

Most of these deaths are preventable. Postpartum hemorrhage remains the leading direct cause of maternal death, while indirect causes such as HIV, malaria, and anemia also account for a substantial share. What connects them is delay: delay in seeking care, delay in reaching a health facility, and delay in providing the best treatment to save a woman’s life. The fact that so many maternal deaths occur within health facilities is telling: the problem is not only the absence of care but also weaknesses in facility readiness, referral systems, teamwork, and emergency response.

Throughout the continuum of maternal care, a well-educated midwife can recognize danger signs before they become emergencies: managing complications, including coordinating timely referrals; and delivering respectful and high-quality care. Midwives already deliver up to 90 percent of essential sexual, reproductive, maternal, and newborn health services, often in communities where health systems are weakest. But midwives cannot do this alone and their impact depends on the strength of the health system: functioning primary health care, community referral and transportation systems, reliable medicines and blood supplies, and access to emergency obstetrical and neonatal care when complications arise. Despite this indispensable role, midwives remain one of Africa’s most overlooked and underfunded health workers.

Based on the latest comparable WHO and UNFPA data, only four of 51 reporting African countries meet the WHO needs-based benchmark of 9.23 midwifery personnel per 10,000 population. Forty-seven remain below the benchmark. But the numerical shortage is only part of the story. Even where midwives are educated, roughly 34 percent of midwifery personnel in reporting countries are unemployed. The challenge, in other words, is not simply to educate more midwives—it is to integrate those already educated and deploy and retain them where needs are greatest.

Ending preventable maternal mortality by 2030 has become one of the continent’s greatest tests of leadership, equity, and health sovereignty.

With the appointment of H.E. Dr. Samia Suluhu Hassan, President of the United Republic of Tanzania, as the AU Champion on Maternal and Child Health, our collective quest to end maternal deaths is elevated with the highest level of political support. In a recent op-ed, President Hassan called on African leaders and partners to rally around a simple yet powerful roadmap: the Three Zeros framework. It includes achieving zero home deliveries where women are cut off from skilled care and emergency referrals; zero preventable maternal and newborn deaths by shifting from access alone to quality, respectful, and emergency-ready care; and zero unvaccinated children by placing zero-dose children at the center of primary health care and last-mile delivery. Investing in midwives is fundamental to achieving these Three Zeros.

The case for investment is not just moral — it is economic. The UNFPA midwifery investment case reveals that investing in midwives can generate as much as a ten-fold return through combined social and economic gains. In Sierra Leone, modeling shows that universal care provided by midwives could save 2,278 maternal lives, save 19,029 newborn lives, prevent 39,970 stillbirths, and avert almost 860,000 unintended pregnancies by 2035. Beyond these clinical and economic gains, midwifery is also a powerful engine for women’s economic empowerment. Since the vast majority of midwives are female, expanding this workforce translates directly into thousands of stable, skilled, and dignified formal-sector jobs for women—particularly in rural and underserved communities where employment opportunities are often scarce. Converting informal, unpaid caregiving into salaried careers saves lives and builds financial independence for women, while strengthening Africa’s broader economic development.

Investing in midwives alongside multi-skilled community health workers creates a stronger continuum of care—from the household and community to the primary health facility and referral hospital. Community health workers can support early identification of pregnancy risks, promote antenatal care attendance, encourage skilled birth attendance, strengthen immunization uptake, and facilitate timely referrals, while midwives provide the skilled clinical care required to prevent maternal and newborn deaths. Together, this workforce forms the backbone of a people-centered primary health care system capable of delivering the AU’s vision of health sovereignty.

Africa has already shown political leadership in achieving a strong health workforce. In 2016, Africa committed to train and deploy two million community health workers as part of addressing the chronic health workforce gap—a target already half met. Under the leadership of H.E. Bola Ahmed Tinubu, President of the Federal Republic of Nigeria and AU Champion for Human Resources for Health and Community Health Delivery Partnership (CHDP), the continent is committed to accelerating progress towards the target of two million multi-skilled community health workers by 2030.

Midwifery deserves the same political ambition, together with a clear continental target to close the midwifery gap.

Any midwifery target must sit within a broader health workforce agenda. Accelerating the reduction of maternal deaths depends on a wider multidisciplinary workforce, including nurses, doctors, anesthesia providers, laboratory personnel, pharmacists, blood service staff, and emergency transport teams. This model promotes integrated community health systems where trained, supported, and professional community health workers deliver a comprehensive package of essential services, including health promotion for maternal and child health, disease prevention, immunization, early identification of pregnancy risks, referrals, and links to health facilities.

Just as Africa united around scaling up community health workers, leaders should now rally around a target to educate, deploy and retain the midwives needed to end preventable maternal and newborn deaths on the continent and enhance the health outcomes.

The following priorities, supported by the evidence-driven global initiative The Midwifery Accelerator, offer a practical roadmap:

First, increase and institutionalize financing for the health workforce, including midwives, as a strategic investment for health security and sovereignty.

This means accelerating the Lusaka Agenda and Accra Reset and prioritizing domestic funding for workforce compacts to strengthen primary health care systems in high-burden countries for maternal and child deaths. Establishing dedicated workforce budget lines, and improving the efficiency of workforce financial management through digitalization will require strengthened public finance management capacity and capabilities and cross-ministerial coordination. Aligning partner contributions strategically with national health workforce development plans will improve efficiency and address issues linked to the transition from donor support.

Second, expand equitable access to skilled maternal and newborn care by deploying midwives strategically to underserved high-burden and rural areas.

We must educate, deploy, and retain enough midwives to improve the quality, continuity, and responsiveness of maternal and newborn care. This will require ensuring quality midwifery education aligned to international and national standards, financing new posts and absorbing unemployed midwives, educating more only where the needs are unmet. Retention is equally critical as poor conditions; limited career growth, low pay and migration continue to drain skilled midwives from many African countries. Building a resilient workforce requires investing in decent work, professional recognition, and supportive, accountable workplaces.

Third, we must advocate and empower midwives, building midwifery leadership, strengthening coalitions, and amplifying the voices of women and communities.

Midwives should play a central role in designing models of care, not just delivering them. Professional associations must be seated at policy and financing tables, the Chief Midwifery Officer Network should be formalized, and communities need a stronger say in holding health systems accountable.

Fourth, maternal survival must be addressed as a whole-of-government responsibility.

Backed by political and financial commitments, this requires engagement beyond health ministries, including the finance, education, gender, and planning portfolios, alongside local government and civil society partners.

Through the AU Champion Roadmap on Maternal and Child Health, the AU Commission is collaborating with Member States, Africa CDC, UNFPA, and other partners to strengthen accountability, data systems and peer-to-peer learning. Accountability must drive this agenda: every maternal death should be counted, reviewed, and used to strengthen health systems. What gets measured gets prioritized, and what gets prioritized gets funded.

The AU Champion Roadmap calls for sustained, African-led domestic financing for maternal, newborn and child health. Investing in midwives is an investment in maternal and newborn survival, women’s economic empowerment, resilient primary health care systems, and Africa’s future prosperity. Preventing maternal deaths protects families, creates decent jobs, strengthens trust in public institutions, and safeguards the continent’s greatest asset—its people.

Africa has shown that shared ambition can drive transformative change. That same ambition must be matched with sustained resolve and support to ensure that no woman or newborn’s life is cut short for reasons we can prevent. A strong and resilient midwifery health workforce is within our collective reach – let us use it to secure Africa’s health sovereignty, sustainable development, and future prosperity.

Dr. Diene Keita, Executive Director, United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA), and
Dr. Jean Kaseya, Director General, Africa Centres for Disease Control and Prevention (Africa CDC)

IPS UN Bureau

Healthy rangelands are built through long-term commitment, local leadership and sustained investment. Credit: Shutterstock

By Samson Kuraru
NAIROBI, Kenya, Sep 4 2026 (IPS)

Across the Kenya-Tanzania rangelands, communities have long understood a reality that the global community is increasingly recognising: healthy rangelands support livelihoods, wildlife, water resources and local economies. They are among Africa’s most important natural assets and a foundation for resilience in a changing climate.

That lesson is especially relevant today. As East Africa prepares for the potential impacts of a strengthening El Niño, the focus should not be on rainfall totals alone. Forecasts point to an increased likelihood of wetter-than-normal conditions across much of the region, although the timing and distribution of rainfall may vary significantly.

Increased rainfall can improve pasture and water availability, but it can also increase flood risks and disrupt livelihoods, infrastructure and ecosystems. These conditions underscore the importance of healthy rangelands, reliable water sources and strong community-led approaches that help people prepare for and adapt to climate shocks.

One of the strongest messages to emerge from COP17 was the recognition of Indigenous Peoples, local communities and pastoralists as essential partners in restoring land and building resilience. Across Africa, communities are not simply beneficiaries of conservation and restoration efforts; they are often the people leading them

It was against this backdrop that governments, communities and development partners gathered in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, for UNCCD COP17.

The conference highlighted a growing global understanding that drought, land degradation, biodiversity loss, climate change, water security and livelihoods are closely linked challenges that must be addressed together. It also signalled a stronger focus on turning commitments into action through new partnerships, investments and initiatives aimed at strengthening resilience on the ground.

For Africa, this attention could not be more timely.

Rangelands cover nearly half of the continent’s land surface and support hundreds of millions of people. They underpin pastoral and livestock-based economies, sustain biodiversity and tourism, contribute to water security, and help communities adapt to a changing climate. Yet many of these landscapes face increasing pressure from recurring droughts, land degradation and growing climate risks.

The Kenya-Tanzania rangelands illustrate both the scale of the challenge and the opportunity. Stretching across some of East Africa’s most important wildlife and livestock landscapes, they support people, livestock and wildlife across interconnected ecosystems. Their future depends on how effectively land and water resources are managed today.

One of the strongest messages to emerge from COP17 was the recognition of Indigenous Peoples, local communities and pastoralists as essential partners in restoring land and building resilience. Across Africa, communities are not simply beneficiaries of conservation and restoration efforts; they are often the people leading them.

Across Kenya’s rangelands, community conservancies demonstrate what can be achieved when local knowledge is matched with investment and long-term partnerships.

A community conservancy is a locally governed institution through which landowners voluntarily work together to manage land, wildlife and other natural resources for shared social, economic and environmental benefits. These conservancies help protect wildlife while supporting livelihoods and improving the management of land and water resources.

A good example can be found in northern Kenya, where community conservancies operate across connected landscapes that support both pastoral livelihoods and wildlife. In these drylands, healthy grass is not simply an environmental asset; it underpins household income, livestock production and food security.

Community-led grazing systems help manage when and where livestock graze, protecting critical grazing areas during dry periods and allowing grasslands time to recover. Together with improved water management and restoration efforts, these approaches strengthen drought preparedness while supporting wildlife, livestock and local economies. They show that conservation and development do not have to compete. When communities are supported to lead, both people and nature can thrive.

These experiences point to an important lesson: while restoring degraded land remains essential, preventing degradation in the first place is often more effective and less costly. Healthy rangelands are built through long-term commitment, local leadership and sustained investment.

COP17 also elevated the importance of sustainable rangeland management through the Steppe Action Agenda and the Rangelands Flagship Initiative.

Together, these efforts seek to advance the conservation, sustainable management and restoration of rangelands while increasing investment and coordinated action to strengthen the resilience of pastoral and rangeland-dependent communities. They reflect growing recognition that healthy rangelands are essential for resilient communities, thriving biodiversity, water security and adaptation to climate risks.

Importantly, the conference also underscored that restoring land is not a financial burden. It is a strategic investment in resilience, livelihoods and prosperity.

This was reflected in the launch of the Drought Resilience Investment Facility (DRIF), which aims to help countries move from responding to drought crises to preparing for them. COP17 also announced approximately US$1.3 billion in new and pipeline financing for land restoration and drought resilience across 23 countries. Together, these commitments signal a growing shift towards proactive resilience-building rather than repeated emergency responses.

The challenge now is ensuring that investment reaches the communities doing the work on the ground. Success will depend not only on the amount of funding available, but also on strengthening the institutions, conservancies and partnerships that help manage land and water resources over the long term.

As governments, development partners, philanthropies and the private sector look to scale solutions across Africa, rangelands deserve far greater attention. They are among the continent’s most valuable assets for food security, biodiversity conservation, economic development and climate resilience.

COP17 highlighted what communities across Africa’s rangelands have known for generations: healthy land supports healthy communities. The task now is to turn that recognition into action through sustained investment, stronger partnerships and greater support for the people already managing these landscapes for the benefit of current and future generations.

Samson Kuraru is Northern Kenya Conservation Coordinator, The Nature Conservancy

By James Alix Michel
VICTORIA, Seychelles, Sep 4 2026 (IPS)

There is an older wisdom, quieter than the noise of our times, that whispers a simple truth: we are not the architects of nature, only its guests. Long before there were nations, economies, or even language, there was the pulse of the tide, the patience of coral, the breath of forests exchanging air with the sky. Into that ancient conversation we arrived — late, curious, and forgetful — mistaking our cleverness for sovereignty and our tools for wings.

Yet the sea remembers what we have forgotten. It remembers that every drop of rain has travelled through the roots of trees and the bodies of fish before returning to us as thirst quenched or harvest gathered. It remembers that the reef and the child, the mangrove and the fisherman, the albatross and the sailor, are all verses of the same unfinished poem. To live well is to learn that poem by heart — to know that when one line is silenced, the whole song grows thinner.

And still, something in us reaches further. The same species that learned to read the tides also learned to read the stars. From the first firelit night when a human being looked up and wondered, we have carried within us a quiet, luminous restlessness — a longing to know what lies beyond the horizon, beyond the atmosphere, beyond the reach of our brief lives. It is not vanity that drives this longing, but memory. Perhaps some ancient part of us recognises, in the distant glimmer of a star, a trace of our own origin — the stardust from which our bones were made, the cosmic seed from which life on this small blue world first stirred.

To be human, then, is to live in two directions at once. Downward, into the depths of the sea, where life first learned to breathe. Outward, into the vastness of space, where light itself becomes a form of scripture. Both journeys are acts of reverence. Both remind us that we are neither the centre nor the summit of creation, but its wondering witnesses — creatures endowed with the extraordinary gift of consciousness, and with it, the responsibility to use that gift with humility.

This is the paradox of our species: we are small enough to be humbled by a single wave, and large enough in imagination to send our thoughts across galaxies. We build submarines to touch the ocean floor and telescopes to touch the edge of time. Yet both instruments, in the end, do the same thing — they extend our capacity to wonder. Wonder is the beginning of wisdom, and wisdom is the beginning of care.

Perhaps this is the deepest task of our century: not to choose between protecting our planet and exploring the cosmos, but to understand that the two callings are one. We cannot honour the stars while poisoning the seas. We cannot dream of new worlds while abandoning the one that gave us breath. The reef and the galaxy are written in the same handwriting. To care for one is to prepare ourselves, morally and spiritually, for the other.

Small-island nations know this instinctively. We live at the meeting point of sea and sky, where the horizon is a daily teacher. We understand that fragility and vastness are not opposites but companions — that the smallest coral polyp and the most distant nebula belong to the same continuum of creation. When we speak of protecting the ocean, we are not defending a resource; we are defending a relationship. And when humanity looks upward, dreaming of Mars or of life on some far-off moon, we are not escaping the Earth; we are extending the same longing that first drew our ancestors to the sea.

For those of us shaped by the ocean, this is not philosophy — it is instinct. We have always known that the horizon is not a boundary but an invitation, that the sea is not a possession but a companion, and that the night sky is not empty but full of the same silent kinship that binds us to the coral and the whale.

If humanity can learn, once more, to walk softly among its fellow travellers — on this small blue planet and among the countless worlds beyond — then perhaps our story will not end in exhaustion, but in reverence: the quiet dignity of a species that finally remembered it was never alone, and never was meant to be still.

James Alix Michel, is Former President of the Republic of Seychelles

IPS UN Bureau

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Farmer Field Day held at Mariira, to demonstrate the different Climate Smart Technologies used in farming. December 22nd, 2022. Murang'a county, Kenya. Credit: 2022 CIAT/Owen Kimani

By Ismahane Elouafi
KIGALI, Rwanda, Sep 3 2026 (IPS)

As leaders gather in Kigali for the Africa Food Systems Forum, they face an urgent question: why do so many proven agricultural innovations still fail to reach the farmers and communities that need them most?

For the first time, Africa is home to the largest number of people facing hunger. This is despite decades of agricultural innovation developed to address the continent’s food and agriculture challenges. Between 2022 and 2024, CGIAR – the world’s largest partnership dedicated to transforming food, land and water systems in a climate crisis – developed more than 470 innovations, reaching at least six million farmers across the continent.

Africa’s food systems challenges are not the result of a lack of innovation. Rather, a set of overlapping, complex and increasingly severe pressures is undermining progress at a critical point in the continent’s transformation.

Climate-driven weather impacts are becoming more frequent and severe. A predicted “super” El Niño in the coming months is forecast to create drier than usual conditions across parts of West and Central Africa. In East Africa, it is forecast to reduce normal rainfall in some regions and to lead to severe rainfall and flooding in others. According to the World Meteorological Organization, Africa is warming faster than the global average.

Escalating conflicts across several African countries are disrupting food supply chains and increasing the risk of severe food emergencies. At the same time, geopolitical instability has driven up the cost of agricultural inputs and transport, creating further barriers to sustainable farming. All this is taking place against a backdrop of reduced funding for agricultural development and an unprecedented decline in international aid to sub-Saharan Africa.

African countries are confronting this confluence of challenges as they begin implementing the new 10-year Comprehensive Africa Agriculture Development Programme Strategy and Action Plan (2026–2035), the African Union-led roadmap for transforming the continent’s agrifood systems into more resilient drivers of economic growth, food security and healthy diets.

The roadmap sets the ambition. What is missing is the architecture to make that happen: the “missing middle” between proven agricultural innovation and the large-scale public investment, partnerships and delivery capacity needed to take it to scale.

Bridging this missing middle requires development funders to rethink how they support agricultural innovation. Governments, international financial institutions, multilateral development banks and African development finance institutions must move beyond portfolios of disparate projects and invest instead in coherent innovation pathways. Science and evidence must be integrated from the outset, before investment decisions are made.

Innovation pathways provide a route for moving tried-and-tested solutions to scale. They allow governments, funders, scientific organizations and partners to work together to identify, validate, scale and measure the impact of the most promising innovations.

Bundling complementary innovations into investable packages can also help accelerate deployment and impact, opening opportunities for ambitious young Africans to build firms, provide services and create jobs within their own food systems.

African governments must remain in the driver’s seat throughout this process. That is essential to ensure investments respond to national priorities and align with country agrifood systems investment plans under CAADP.

CGIAR is working to build precisely these connections between country demand, science, finance and delivery. One example is the partnership between CGIAR Scaling for Impact with the African Development Bank to support the Technologies for African Agricultural Transformation (TAAT) and its Clearinghouse. It demonstrates how large-scale development finance and scientific expertise can be brought together to meet national agricultural priorities and deliver proven, science-backed technologies at scale.

The TAAT Clearinghouse connects country demand and AfDB financing with proven innovations, CGIAR expertise and the technical support needed for effective delivery. It is currently linking approximately US$1.5 billion in AfDB-backed investments in Nigeria, Ethiopia and the Democratic Republic of the Congo with science-backed technologies and expertise.

In 2026 alone, CGIAR innovations funded and scaled through the TAAT Clearinghouse are expected to reach 3.4 million farmers across the continent.

The Africa Food Systems Forum must therefore be more than a place to showcase promising ideas. It should be a critical inflection point for moving from commitment to credible investment, action and delivery. African policymakers, investors, development finance institutions and researchers should use the Forum to build a more systematic science-to-finance compact—one that places proven innovation at the heart of national investment and delivery.

In an era of less aid and greater instability, Africa cannot afford for proven science to remain stranded in pilot projects—or for billions in development finance to be invested without the best available evidence. Connecting the two is one of the fastest ways to turn Africa’s food systems ambitions into results at scale.

Dr. Ismahane Elouafi is Executive Managing Director, CGIAR

IPS UN Bureau

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Excerpt:

Despite the overall trend toward older populations, substantial differences in age structures exist among countries. Credit: Shutterstock.

By Joseph Chamie
PORTLAND, USA, Sep 1 2026 (IPS)

The age structures of populations vary considerably across countries. Some countries have relatively young populations, with large proportions consisting of children and adolescents. Other countries have much older age structures, with a substantial proportion of people aged 65 years or older.

The world’s current population of approximately 8.3 billion has a median age of about 31 years. This is substantially higher than during much of the 20th century, when the global median age was generally below 25 years. The world’s median age was 22 years in 1950, declined to 20 years in 1970, and then increased to nearly 25 years by 1999.

Population ageing is expected to continue worldwide in the coming decades, The median age of the world’s population, currently about 31 years, is projected to increase to approximately 36 years by 2050.

Despite the overall trend toward older populations, substantial differences in age structures exist among countries.

In 2026, approximately 50 countries and territories have populations with median ages of 21 years or younger, reflecting highly youthful age structures. At the other end of the age spectrum, a similar number of countries and territories have median ages of 42 years or older, indicating comparatively old populations.

These wide differences in median age illustrate the striking demographic diversity among countries and the contrasting social and economic challenges associated with youthful and older populations.

Most countries with highly youthful populations are located in Africa. For example, the Central African Republic, Chad, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Mali, Niger, and Somalia have median ages of 16 years or younger.

In contrast, countries with comparatively older populations are concentrated primarily in Europe and East Asia. France, Germany, Italy, Japan, the Republic of Korea, Spain, and Switzerland, for example, have median ages of 42 years or older. The highest median ages – about 50 years – are found in Italy and Japan (Table 1).

Source: United Nations.

In addition, the median age is expected to rise in virtually all countries, in both more developed and less developed regions. By 2050, for example, the median ages of several countries – including China, Italy, Japan, the Republic of Korea, and Spain – are projected to reach 50 years or more.

The substantial variations in age structures of national populations are also evident in the proportions of people under age 18 and those aged 65 and older.

Once again, countries in which approximately half or more of their population is below age 18, while only a few percent are aged 65 years and older, are concentrated primarily in Africa.

In 2026, for example, 56% of the population in the Central African Republic is under age 18, while the corresponding proportions are approximately 53% in Chad, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Niger, and Somalia. In each of these countries, only about 3% of the population is age 65 years and older.

In contrast, many developed countries – including Greece, Italy, Japan, Portugal, and the Republic of Korea – have much older population age structures. In some of these countries, such as Italy and Japan, approximately 14% of the population is under age 18, while nearly twice that proportion – between 25% and 30% – is aged 65 years and older (Figure 1).

Source: United Nations.

The ongoing changes in countries’ population age structures will have far-reaching implications, particularly for population growth, labor markets, employment, education, healthcare systems, retirement programs, and long-term care.

Many developing countries have relatively young populations and, because of their age structures and population momentum, generally experience relatively high rates of population growth. In contrast, countries with comparatively older populations tend to have slower rates of population growth, with many developed countries already experiencing population decline.

As many developed countries with ageing and declining populations face growing labor shortages, countries with youthful populations continue to have large numbers of young people entering the labor market, often in excess of available employment opportunities

By midcentury, several African countries with particularly young age structures are expected to experience particularly rapid population growth. For example, the populations of Chad, the Central African Republic, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Niger, and Somalia are projected to increase by more than 80%.

Such rapid population growth can pose major challenges to social and economic development, particularly in providing adequate education, employment, housing, healthcare, and other essential services. Governments will need to expand infrastructure and public services rapidly simply to keep pace with the growing number of people.

Countries with young and rapidly growing populations may also face greater difficulties in reducing hunger and inequality, advancing women’s rights, expanding access to healthcare, creating decent employment opportunities, preventing social unrest, and addressing internal conflicts.

These demographic pressures underscore the importance of government policies that strengthen human capital, create productive employment, expand social services, and improve infrastructure. Such measures will be essential for ensuring that rapidly growing populations can achieve sustainable improvements in their living standards.

The slow pace of socio-economic development, high rates of unemployment, and limited educational and employment opportunities for many young people are contributing to social unrest, discontent, and political upheaval.

As a result, increasing numbers of young men and women seek to emigrate to developed countries in search of employment, greater security, and better prospects for themselves and their families. While many use regular migration channels, others increasingly resort to irregular migration, including unauthorized entry, overstaying visas, or seeking asylum and refugee protection.

In several African countries, including the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Sierra Leone and Liberia, half or more of the population reportedly would like to emigrate to another country, typically in Europe and North America. These migration aspirations reflect not only economic motivations but also broader concerns about employment opportunities, personal security, governance, and prospects for the future.

Nigeria, Africa’s most populous nation, provides a particularly striking example. Approximately half of its population reportedly would like to leave the country and resettle abroad, preferably in an English-speaking country. Economic hardship, unemployment, limited opportunities, and insecurity have contributed to this strong desire to emigrate. Many Nigerians have already moved abroad through regular migration channels, while others have undertaken irregular journeys or sought asylum and refugee protection.

The persistence of such strong migration aspirations in many less developed countries highlights the close relationship between demographic pressures, socioeconomic conditions, and international migration. Where large youthful populations confront limited employment, educational, and economic opportunities, migration can become an increasingly attractive option for seeking a better future.

Unauthorized migration has consequently become a major political issue in many destination countries. Governments in numerous migrant-receiving countries have introduced or strengthened measures to deter unauthorized migration, including increased border enforcement, arrest and detention of unauthorized migrants, deportation, and the return of people who have entered without authorization or overstayed their visas.

At the same time, the demographic circumstances of migrant-sending and migrant-receiving countries differ considerably. Many less developed countries have relatively young populations and high rates of demographic growth, whereas many developed countries have substantially older age structures and are expected to experience population decline over the coming decades. By 2050, for example, the populations of countries such as Italy, Japan, and the Republic of Korea, are projected to decline by approximately 13% (Figure 2).

Source: United Nations.

These contrasting demographic trends are likely to increase the economic and political importance of international migration. As many developed countries with ageing and declining populations face growing labor shortages, countries with youthful populations continue to have large numbers of young people entering the labor market, often in excess of available employment opportunities.

The consequences of population ageing are becoming increasingly significant for a growing number more developed countries and are also emerging as an important concern for some less developed countries as well. These demographic changes are prompting governments to reconsider existing economic and social policies, programs, and benefits in order to adapt to population realities.

Population ageing, combined with increasing longevity, is reducing the number of workers available to support each retiree while increasing the fiscal burden on the working-age populations that finances pensions, healthcare, and other age-related government programs.

Longer lifespans also mean that many older men and women may outlive their personal savings or retirement benefits. As longevity continues to increase, pension systems are paying benefits for substantially longer periods than anticipated when many of these systems were established during the 20thcentury.

Consequently, governments are facing growing pressure to reform retirement systems, healthcare services, and long-term care programs to ensure their financial sustainability while maintaining adequate support for ageing populations.

In addition to placing greater strains on government finances, the rising costs of medical treatment and care for growing numbers of older persons are placing increasing pressures on family budgets, capacities, and expectations.

Financing and providing long-term care for older persons is a major challenge for societies and families. In many countries, public provision for long-term care remains inadequate or largely unavailable to significant proportions of the population. At the same time, the growing number of older men and women is placing increasing stress on traditional safety nets, including families, friends, and local communities.

Powerful and largely irreversible demographic trends are driving population ageing, with growing numbers and proportions of people – especially women, who typically live longer than men – spending more years in old age. These trends will have profound implications for the organization and financing of societies.

The contrasting age structures of populations in developing and developed countries require significant social and economic adjustments. Countries with youthful populations need to expand education, employment, healthcare, and other services to meet the needs of growing numbers of young people. In contrast, countries with substantially older populations must prepare for rising demands on pension systems, healthcare, and long-term care.

In light of these demographic realities, governments need to revamp policies and programs affecting their populations. Unfortunately, many governments appear to be postponing these necessary adjustments. The longer governments delay adapting policies and programs to changing demographic conditions, the more difficult and costly the consequences are likely to become for their populations.

Joseph Chamie is a consulting demographer, a former director of the United Nations Population Division, and author of many publications on population issues.

Pakhshan Azizi. Credit: Photo credit: Women's Committee of the National Council of Resistance of Iran (WNCRI)

By Pakhshan Azizi
TEHRAN, Sep 1 2026 (IPS)

Writing from the women’s ward of Evin Prison on 10 June 2026, Kurdish political prisoner Pakhshan Azizi, who remains under a death sentence, reflects on her legal case, political principles, humanitarian work, and the broader historical and political dynamics shaping the Middle East.

Azizi opens by stating that “politics and ethics are at the height of their historical degradation”.

She explains that she remained silent for a long time because, for someone imprisoned and condemned to death, every word carries the risk of further punishment or even losing one’s life. Yet she says she can no longer remain silent while others define her identity and speak on her behalf.

Azizi accuses individuals both inside and outside prison of exploiting her case for personal or organisational interests. She argues that people claiming to defend her have instead attempted to marginalise or erase her, turning her case into an object of political competition rather than genuine solidarity.

She describes spending three years in prison and two years under what she calls an unjust and oppressive death sentence. According to her, she is the only female political prisoner under a death sentence whose conviction has been upheld four times. She stresses that neither she nor her lawyer has received any official notification that her execution has been suspended, despite public reports suggesting otherwise. Even if such a suspension existed, she emphasises, it would not mean that her death sentence had been overturned.

She recounts the immense suffering experienced by her family, noting that several relatives have also been imprisoned simply because they are Kurdish. She criticises what she sees as unequal public attention, suggesting that recognition often depends on conforming to political narratives rather than on the reality of one’s work or persecution.

Throughout the letter, Azizi argues that her prosecution has been shaped not only by legal irregularities but also by political manoeuvring behind the scenes, involving actors both inside and outside prison. She says that her experiences of interrogation, ideological pressure, and imprisonment echo the long history of discrimination and marginalisation faced by Kurdish people.

She writes that, over time, she has come to rely only on herself, believing that history will ultimately demonstrate the sincerity of her principles and the consistency of her commitment.

Her political positions

Azizi then sets out her views in nine numbered points.

1. The Middle East conflict has deep historical roots

She argues that today’s conflicts cannot be understood solely through the actions of contemporary governments. Instead, she traces the region’s instability back to the post–First World War division of the Middle East by colonial powers.

She describes the current wars as a continuation of that historical process, arguing that the region’s resources—including oil and minerals—have long been exploited by global powers while ordinary people bear the consequences through poverty, sanctions, displacement, and violence.

According to her, civilians are repeatedly sacrificed in conflicts they neither initiated nor control, while political elites continue pursuing geopolitical interests.

2. Opposition to war

Azizi unequivocally condemns the war involving the United States and Israel and rejects military attacks on Iranian territory and the wider Middle East.

She specifically condemns attacks against schools, hospitals, emergency services, universities, and other civilian infrastructure, describing such attacks as war crimes under international law.

She emphasises that children deserve life, not death.

3. Rejection of allegations of organisational membership

Azizi firmly rejects accusations that she belongs to any political or armed organisation.

She explains that she worked as a social worker and acknowledges that, because of the environment in which she worked in northeastern Syria (Rojava), she inevitably cooperated with various local actors. However, she insists that cooperation in humanitarian work should not be interpreted as organisational membership.

4. Humanitarian work in Syria

She describes spending years working in refugee camps in Syria under extremely difficult humanitarian conditions, particularly assisting people displaced by the war and affected by ISIS attacks.

She argues that using isolated photographs or superficial evidence to portray this humanitarian work as proof of political or military affiliation is fundamentally misleading.

5. Her position on Kurdish rights

Azizi explicitly rejects separatism.

She argues that demands for Kurdish rights should be understood within Iran, advocating federal arrangements and greater recognition of Kurdish communities while preserving the country’s territorial integrity.

Looking beyond Iran, she expresses a longer-term vision of a democratic confederation across the Middle East based on cooperation rather than division.

As a Kurdish woman, she says preserving Kurdish culture and history is both a historical and a human responsibility but insists that separatism has never been the solution.

6. Peace through dialogue

She argues that genuine peace can only be achieved through dialogue with ordinary people, especially those who have been marginalised and denied opportunities.

7. Skepticism toward international powers

Azizi questions why global powers would suddenly claim to defend her or Kurdish history when those same powers have historically contributed to denying and suppressing Kurdish identity.

She suggests that powerful states often instrumentalise minority communities for their own geopolitical purposes.

8. Independence from governments

She emphasises that social work is independent of governments and political authorities.

Her work, she writes, has always been with people rather than with states.

9. Commitment to independent civil society

Azizi concludes by reaffirming that she has never belonged to any organisation.

She describes herself as an independent social worker committed to addressing the deep social wounds created by decades of war.

She argues that rebuilding society requires independent civic institutions capable of fostering dignity, culture, and life rather than perpetuating violence.

Azizi ends with a sentence in Kurdish followed by Persian:

“I am one who dies for life, not one who lives for death.”

She closes by expressing gratitude to everyone who has defended her despite political differences, including her family, her lawyer Mohammad Hossein Raisian, and her friends, thanking them for their sincere support.

Source: HRANA News Agency, the news outlet of the Human Rights Activists in Iran.

Translation: Courtesy of Civicus

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Drylands landscape near Kitui, Kitui County - Kenya. Credit: Axel Fassio/CIFOR

By Éliane Ubalijoro and Salina Abraham
NAIROBI, Kenya, Sep 1 2026 (IPS)

Open a can of something fizzy and the reason the sugar doesn’t separate immediately is gum arabic, tapped by hand from acacia trees across the Sahel. Spray on perfume and the reason the scent is still there at dinner is frankincense, a resin cut from Boswellia trees on the dry escarpments of the Horn of Africa. The fat that gives a chocolate bar its snap may well be shea, gathered and pressed by women in the parkland belt of West Africa. The cashmere jumper came from goats that can only be raised on cold, dry rangelands.

These are drylands. They cover 44 per cent of the planet’s land, hold 44 per cent of the world’s cropland and half its livestock, and two billion people live in them. We have spent decades describing them as empty or unproductive. For a long list of things most of us use without thinking, they are the only places on earth that produce them at all.

It is no secret that our world is becoming hotter and drier. Three quarters of the planet’s land experienced drier conditions in the last 30 years than the previous 30. This year’s El Niño is intensifying fast, compelling the world to look back at what dryland systems already know. Nearly every model now points to a record-strength event: the US Climate Prediction Center puts the odds of a “very strong” El Niño at over 90 per cent for this fall and winter, and a 69 per cent chance it exceeds anything on record since 1950.

Drylands have been living through exactly this kind of shock-and-recovery cycle for generations, and their playbook offers real lessons. Farmers in places that have always been able to count on rain are beginning to face a question that dryland farmers answered generations ago: what do you grow, and how, when the water is not guaranteed?

Dryland systems are the longest-running operating record anywhere of producing value under conditions of scarcity, volatility and shock. These landscapes are home to generations of knowledge on how to thrive with limited water and high variability. This includes practices such as spreading risk across several crops and animals rather than betting the season on one, understanding land closely enough to move livestock before the pressure is too much, and building income that arrives at different times of the year so a bad month is not a ruined one. These are powerful lessons needed now.

Now is the time to listen and learn from dryland communities, practices, and regenerative production models. When this wisdom, data, and experience serve as our foundation, we can transition to sustainable business models and unlock investments to power our future world using knowledge that already exists in the places we have been calling marginal.

Mongolia, the host of the recently concluded UN’s COP17 talks under the Convention to Combat Desertification (UNCCD), is a case in point. Three quarters of Mongolia’s land is already classified as degraded or at risk. However, Mongolian herders supply 40 per cent of the world’s raw cashmere, increasingly innovating to shift away from an extractive model to practices that generate diverse value, from wool to grass-fed meat, examples of what a healthy landscape can offer.

In northern Ghana, the Ojoba Women’s Shea Cooperative processes shea butter by hand in the arid Upper East Region, using a skill passed down through generations. They now supply international buyers including L’Occitane and Lush.

In both instances, the land already had value, and the skills already existed within the communities. What was missing was a route to the market willing to pay for them. These initiatives demonstrate what is possible when investment is designed around the realities and value in drylands.

Investment can take many forms: from financing cooperatives through the shift to new practices; insurance that pays out on rainfall; water and energy infrastructure that keeps a harvest sellable in extreme heat. There is growth potential beyond raw commodities too; processing into oils, powders, waxes compounds the returns. And payments for ecosystem services, from stored carbon, biodiversity and watershed protection, sit alongside that.

Donors like the European Union have already recognised the value of drylands with the €20 million Thrivelands initiative, led by Landscape Alliance, to build the coalitions and action this work needs; including innovations needed to protect and restore land. These innovations range from the tools to monitor and restore soil health accurately to the Land Degradation Surveillance Framework and the Regreening Africa app, which brings this data into the hands of farmers.

But public funding alone cannot unlock the drylands opportunities. Adapting to a drier world means restoring a broken nature finance system and closing the $700 billion finance gap to apply proven expertise across a growing area.

Many companies already depend on drylands through what they source, without having assessed how much of their supply comes from them. For those in the agrifood, textiles, and cosmetics sectors, investing in restoring and protecting these landscapes is a way to stabilise their supply chains, manage growing levels of risk and meet climate goals.

There is also the question of what inaction costs. Investing in drylands agriculture could avert a 12 per cent reduction in global food production over the next 25 years and prevent the release of about 60 per cent of stored carbon.

COP17 is a reminder of how little time is left. The UNCCD finance framework closes in 2030, with 82 per cent of the cumulative need for finance unmet. Time is running out to leverage the lessons from drylands to protect future food security. The gap between what is needed and what is being invested remains enormous.

The landscapes on which our future depends may be getting drier, but they are not devoid of opportunity. With science and innovation that enhances traditional knowledge, they are saturated with opportunities to bolster food security and climate resilience.

Dr Éliane Ubalijoro, chief executive officer of Landscape Alliance
Salina Abraham, Head of Thrivelands, Landscape Alliance

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The US dollar’s role as the world’s reserve currency has been eroding gradually for decades. However, various US policies, including recent deliberately unexpected actions, have at times accelerated de-dollarisation.

Jomo Kwame Sundaram

By fixing the gold price in dollars, the US currency became the world’s reserve currency, with other currencies pegged to it at fixed exchange rates. With this indirect gold standard, the metal’s price was fixed in US dollars.

Other currencies were pegged to the dollar, strengthening its role as the dominant currency. Other arrangements that could have mitigated the problems and adverse consequences of the dollar system were effectively rejected by the US at Bretton Woods.

Ninety per cent of foreign exchange market transactions now still involve the dollar. Most central bank reserves are still denominated in dollars, while the US dollar is still used to invoice around two-fifths of international trade.

Just after World War II (WW2), the US economy accounted for a quarter of world output, measured in terms of purchasing power parity (PPP), and even more in nominal terms. The US share of the world economy has fallen to under 15% since.

The US also accounted for a quarter of world exports at that time. Unlike most other nations, US industry was strengthened rather than destroyed during WW2.

The size, liquidity, and depth of US capital markets have also reinforced the dollar’s role. Its special status in the Bretton Woods dispensation conferred an ‘exorbitant privilege’, increasing international demand for dollar bonds.

This has enabled the US government and companies to borrow at lower interest rates than others. The resulting increase in demand for dollar-denominated assets has also strengthened the greenback.

Erosion of dollar dominance
Since then, the US economy has become much more financialised and de-industrialised, now accounting for less than a tenth of world goods exports.

However, although the US now accounts for under 15% of global income at PPP, its stock market still accounts for over three-fifths of the world’s total market capitalisation.

Leading international monetary economist Barry Eichengreen’s 2022 survey of central banks’ foreign exchange reserves showed the dollar share of foreign reserves falling from 70% in 2000 to under 60% in 2021; it has since declined to below 58% in early 2025.

Ben Norton suggests that the actual dollar share of foreign reserves is even lower and continues to decline. Some central banks hold other reserves off the books for fear of Western actions to freeze and seize their foreign reserves.

With the US economy more de-industrialised and financialised, the dollar system has become more important in attracting foreign investors and inducing capital market bubbles from time to time.

De-dollarisation accelerating
De-dollarisation goes back many decades, even when the dollar-gold peg was still in place. France famously demanded gold for dollars, then shipped bullion back under armed escort.

Many recent Trump policies have heightened international concerns about holding dollar-denominated assets. Greater Washington belligerence, including illegal tariffs, sanctions and bombings, has also accelerated de-dollarisation.

Trump’s attempts to influence the US Federal Reserve Bank and other public surveillance and regulatory institutions have also shaken public and international trust. Humiliating dismissals of allegedly recalcitrant officials have not helped.

In the first half-year of Trump’s second presidential term, the dollar experienced its biggest fall since the 1973 OPEC oil crisis, by over 10% against other major currencies, before fluctuating considerably.

After Trump threatened massive tariffs against all other countries on 2 April 2025, fears of “a simultaneous collapse in the prices of all US assets” quickly grew.

Instead of the usual ‘flight to safety’ in dollar assets when crises previously loomed, it seems “The market has lost faith in US assets”, selling them down in response to new threats and uncertainties.

Since then, uncertainties have worsened market and dollar volatility worldwide. Unsurprisingly, foreign governments and investors are looking for alternatives to the dollar.

Eichengreen had previously expected a gradual decline in dollar dominance and a slow transition to a more balanced multi-currency reserve system.

Although the US president is not the sole cause of the recent acceleration of de-dollarisation, Trump 2.0 policies have prompted monetary authorities worldwide to consider alternatives to the US dollar as the world’s reserve currency.

More recently, Eichengreen has warned of a likely acceleration in the dollar’s decline, expressing concern about its adverse effects. That would threaten financial institutions holding dollar-denominated assets, causing them to lose value in foreign-currency terms.

No alternative?
However, Eichengreen insists “no other currency … is positioned to fill the dollar’s shoes”. Neither the euro nor the renminbi has the capacity or ambition to replace the dollar.

With privately issued cryptocurrencies not functioning as currencies except for mainly illicit transactions, Eichengreen expects the dollar to remain “the cleanest dirty shirt in the pile”.

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Partial presidential election results are displayed on a screen at the Zambian Elections results center in Lusaka on 17 August 2026. Credit: Gianluigi Guercia/AFP

By Andrew Firmin
LONDON, Aug 31 2026 (IPS)

On 24 August, police sealed off access to Zambia’s courts, closed the day before the deadline for petitions to challenge the results of the 13 August presidential election. The judiciary’s top official cited security reasons, but the timing left little doubt that authorities meant to block the defeated candidate’s legal challenge.

Official results gave the incumbent, Hakainde Hichilema, 60.49 per cent of the vote, comfortably ahead of challenger Brian Mundubile’s 37.87 per cent. Some results from the concurrent National Assembly vote remain pending, but Hichilema’s United Party for National Development (UPND) has also won a commanding majority over Mundubile’s National Reconciliation Party for Unity and Prosperity, part of the opposition’s Tonse Alliance.

Mundubile rejected the presidential election result and vowed to contest it in court, but an election night police raid forced him into hiding. Officers killed former minister Mutotwe Kafwaya and arrested 11 other opposition figures, blaming an exchange of gunfire and accusing Mundubile’s party of possessing weapons and planning an insurgency.

Hichilema came to power in 2021 by comfortably defeating President Edgar Lungu, whose crackdown on civic freedoms led to a polarised and violent campaign. Hichilema promised democratic renewal, pledging to strengthen human rights and the rule of law. However, after some initial positive changes, he’s overseen a slide back to the kind of practices he once campaigned against.

Pre-election crackdown

Hichilema’s margin of victory suggests he’d likely have won anyway, but the ruling party stacked the odds further in its favour while penalising the opposition. European Union observers described an ‘uneven playing field’, with misuse of state resources in favour of the UPND, voter inducements including cash handouts, heavy pro-government bias in state media, self-censorship driven by restrictive laws and police restrictions on campaign events. They also flagged a heavy and intimidating military presence at counting locations, weak security in vote tabulation and counting and a six-hour suspension of counting on election night, after which local officials appeared to be taking instructions from Electoral Commission headquarters before announcing results.

Civil society had already raised concerns about the make-up of the Electoral Commission, believing some of its members were UPND supporters, and judicial independence, after Hichilema appointed numerous new judges from UPND stronghold regions.

In December, parliament approved a law changing the electoral system. It expanded the number of constituencies and introduced a more proportional system with reserved seats for women, young people and people with disabilities. Civil society’s objections centred on the lack of consultation and the speed of these major constitutional changes, which raised suspicions they were intended to benefit the UPND.

As the vote got closer, authorities blatantly targeted opposition politicians, including by using the draconian Public Order Act. Last October, police arrested 12 people, including an opposition member of parliament, when they took part in a meeting Mundubile was expected to attend at a private home, charging them with conduct likely to cause a breach of the peace and participation in an unlawful assembly. In February, police arrested 16 Tonse Alliance members on the same unlawful assembly charge.

Opposition politicians also faced arrest for what would once have counted as the normal cut and thrust of political debate. One of the weapons authorities used was the 2025 Cyber Security Act, which expanded their power to criminalise online commentary and criticism.

In January, police arrested opposition member of parliament Miles Sampa after he alleged by-election fraud. In February, they arrested National Democratic Congress leader Mambwe Zimba over a Facebook post depicting Hichilema in a coffin. In March, they arrested Socialist Party leader Fred M’membe over radio comments about Hichilema and the political controversy over funeral plans for Lungu, who died in 2025. All three spent time in detention before being released on bail.

The crackdown even reached an event that should have showcased Zambia for the right reasons. In April, just days before RightsCon, the world’s largest gathering on digital rights, was due to open in the capital, Lusaka, the government effectively cancelled it. They postponed it at too short notice for rescheduling. Over 2,600 people had planned to attend and some were already on their way. Authorities cited unspecified concerns about some speakers’ clearances and demanded more information on discussion topics. The government evidently didn’t want debate about issues it deemed controversial, including its human rights record. Zambian officials were also reportedly pressured by China, a key investor, over the planned participation of Taiwanese civil society representatives.

Time to restore freedoms

Zambians remain proud of their democracy, which has seen three peaceful handovers since multiparty elections returned in 1991. Hichilema should get democracy back on track by restoring all the freedoms that have been compromised. That starts with reversing regressive laws typically rushed through parliament with little consultation, including the Cyber Crimes Act and others that restrict online speech. The government must also commit to respecting media freedoms and letting the political opposition play its proper democratic role.

The government should replace the colonial-era Public Order Act. Hichilema vetoed its proposed replacement, the Public Gatherings Bill, passed by parliament in May. Civil society had raised concerns about the bill’s broad granting of discretionary powers to law enforcement officers and imposition of criminal sanctions. Zambia needs a law that allows peaceful protests and doesn’t criminalise organisers and participants. Civil society has also raised concerns about an NGO Bill that would grant the government extensive powers to regulate, suspend and dissolve civil society organisations. This bill must advance no further.

Three decades of peaceful transitions made Zambia a regional democratic beacon. Keeping it one requires a government that respects dissent, and a civil society free enough to make sure it does.

Andrew Firmin is CIVICUS Editor-in-Chief, co-director and writer for CIVICUS Lens and co-author of the State of Civil Society Report.

For interviews or more information, please contact research@civicus.org

Char residents crossing the Jamuna River by boat (Stock photo, 2016).

By Mohammad Zaman
DHAKA, Bangladesh, Aug 31 2026 (IPS)

Bangladesh’s riverine and coastal chars have always been landscapes of movement, but climate change is making that movement more violent, frequent, and unequal. The shifting islands of the Jamuna, Brahmaputra, Padma, and other rivers now reveal how climate stress multiplies deprivation, weakens citizenship, and forces char dwellers to absorb the costs of a crisis they did little to create.

After years of researching and writing about Bangladesh’s chars, I see them not as marginal landscapes, but as frontline climate geographies. They show how river erosion becomes repeated displacement, flooding brings livelihood collapse, and administrative neglect heightens vulnerability. Char people rebuild, migrate, and diversify under extreme uncertainty, but their resilience should not be romanticized. It is being stretched by intensifying hazards and institutions still designed for fixed land, fixed addresses, and orderly poverty. This is why the issue should be framed not simply as adaptation to hazards, but as a question of rights. The central problem is not that char dwellers fail to cope with a moving river; it is that institutions repeatedly ask them to cope without secure recognition, services, or protection.

Mohammad Zaman

Chars are marginal because state planning treats them as temporary spaces for poor and landless people. Some estimates suggest that chars cover roughly 8% of Bangladesh’s land area and are home to 15 to 20 million people. For char communities, migration is not a rupture in char life; it is a recurring way of organizing and rebuilding, often annually. But climate change is turning mobility from strategy into necessity. For many char dwellers, migration may begin as seasonal labour, become repeated relocation, and finally harden into permanent detachment from land, kinship, and legal security.

In 2024, according to the Internal Displacement Monitoring Centre’s Bangladesh country profile, monsoon floods triggered 1.3 million movements, while its disaster displacement risk reporting records more than 21 million disaster displacements in Bangladesh between 2008 and 2024. Among char people, climate change is felt through household decisions made under pressure: whether to rebuild on the same island, move to another char, keep children in school, or migrate to Dhaka for work. These choices are rational and strategic, but the field of options is narrowing under climate stress, vulnerability, and social exclusion.

Migration from char areas also reflects intelligence and aspiration: young people leave for wages, education, electricity, phones, clinics, and futures beyond subsistence and uncertainty. The tragedy is that climate-stressed households often move without skills, savings, documents, safe housing, or labour protection. The river follows them into the garment line, the rickshaw garage, the brick kiln, the domestic workplace, and the rented slum room.

How should these heightened risks from flooding and displacement be addressed? Adaptation is necessary, but it is not enough. Raised plinths, early warnings, flood-resistant crops and community preparedness may save lives, yet adaptation without land rights, education, healthcare, social protection and safe migration routes becomes a way of managing dispossession. Climate change deepens vulnerability because it strikes people who already lack secure tenure, dependable services and political recognition.

In Bangladesh, climate policy should stop treating char dwellers as humanitarian exceptions and start treating them as political subjects. Public services must be redesigned for moving landscapes through boat schools, mobile clinics, digital civil registration, portable social protection, and weather-responsive transport. Land administration must recognize erosion and accretion, while migration should be planned as adaptation through skills training, safe housing, labour rights, and social insurance. Gender must be central to this agenda. Women and girls often carry these risks most directly, through interrupted schooling, unsafe travel for work or services, increased care burdens during floods, and reduced voice in decisions about land, migration, and relief. Policies that imagine the household as a single male-headed unit misread both vulnerability and agency.

The politics of the char is the politics of who counts in a warming world. Fixed maps assume that citizenship has a stable address and that development follows roads. Char life challenges those assumptions. It shows that climate vulnerability is produced not only by hazards, but by institutions unable or unwilling to recognize lives shaped by unstable land.

Bangladesh can praise char people for endurance, or it can confront the uncomfortable truth: the river will keep moving; that is its nature. But if the rights of char people move more slowly than the river, the failure is political. Their future will not be secured by teaching them to adapt endlessly to disappearance, but by ensuring that no citizen has to prove belonging on land that may not be there tomorrow.

The experience of Bangladesh’s char dwellers shows that climate change is not only an environmental crisis, but also a crisis of rights, recognition, and governance. River erosion, floods, and displacement become devastating because they intersect with insecure land tenure, weak services, gendered risks, and limited political voice. A just response must therefore go beyond short-term adaptation and treat char communities as full citizens whose mobility, livelihoods, and claims to belonging deserve protection in a warming and increasingly unstable world.

Dr. Mohammad Zaman has lived and conducted extensive field research in the Kazipur-Sirajganj chars and has written widely on char land tenure, livelihoods, and social organization. He is the lead editor, with Mustafa Alam as co-editor, of Living on the Edge: Char Dwellers in Bangladesh (Springer, 2021). He can be reached at mqzaman.bc@gmail.com.

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Kazakhstan marks the 35th anniversary of the closure of the Semipalatinsk Nuclear Test Site, recalling the Nevada–Semipalatinsk anti-nuclear movement and highlighting continued cooperation between government and civil society for nuclear disarmament. Credit: INPS Japan

By Katsuhiro Asagiri
TOKYO / ASTANA, Aug 31 2026 (IPS)

Across the vast steppe of northeastern Kazakhstan, the scars of the Cold War remain visible. At the Semipalatinsk Nuclear Test Site, the Soviet Union conducted 456 nuclear tests between 1949 and 1989, exposing nearby communities to radiation and leaving health and environmental consequences that have endured across generations.

Semipalatinsk Former Nuclear Weapon Test site. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri

At a time when nuclear weapons are being reasserted rather than marginalized, Kazakhstan’s choice raises a basic question: Must national security ultimately depend on possessing them?

A Nuclear Test Site Closed by Public Pressure

In 1989, the Kazakh poet Olzhas Suleimenov helped launch the Nevada-Semipalatinsk anti-nuclear movement, linking the Soviet site with Nevada and highlighting the human costs of nuclear testing on both sides of the Cold War. Hundreds of thousands joined protests demanding an end to the tests.

Against that backdrop, then-President Nursultan Nazarbayev signed the decree closing Semipalatinsk on Aug. 29, 1991.

Kazakh civil movement activists gathered to demand a nuclear test ban at the Semipalatinsk test site in August 1989. Credit: armscontrol.org

Official portrait of Kassym-Jomart Tokayev. Credit: President of the Republic of Kazakhstan

From Nuclear Victim to Disarmament Advocate

Kazakhstan then sought to turn the experience of Semipalatinsk into a broader disarmament agenda.

It ratified the Comprehensive Nuclear-Test-Ban Treaty and helped establish the Central Asian Nuclear-Weapon-Free Zone with Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan. In 2009, at Kazakhstan’s initiative, the U.N. General Assembly designated Aug. 29 as the International Day against Nuclear Tests.

Kazakhstan also hosts facilities in the global system for detecting nuclear explosions, while the International Atomic Energy Agency operates a Low Enriched Uranium Bank in Oskemen to reduce incentives for countries to develop their own enrichment capabilities.

Looking Beyond Warhead Numbers

LEU Bank Storage Facility. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri

Around Semipalatinsk, concerns about health and environmental damage persist decades after testing ended. That experience has shaped Kazakhstan’s role in the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons, or TPNW, where it has stressed victim assistance and environmental remediation as well as prohibition.

Together with Kiribati, another country deeply affected by nuclear testing, Kazakhstan has supported efforts to create an international funding mechanism for those purposes.

The principle goes beyond preventing future use: the international community also bears responsibilities for harm already inflicted. Semipalatinsk, Hiroshima, Nagasaki, the Marshall Islands and Kiribati are separated by geography and history but connected by the human cost of the nuclear age.

Kazakhstan and the Role of Civil Society

Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri, Multimedia Director of INPS Japan

Since independence, Kazakhstan has worked with civil society organizations, humanitarian institutions, researchers, survivors, medical experts, young people and faith-based groups to keep the human consequences of nuclear weapons in international debate.

Among them is Soka Gakkai International (SGI), which has long advocated nuclear abolition as a question of human survival and dignity.

At the first Meeting of States Parties to the TPNW in Vienna in 2022, Kazakhstan and Kiribati joined the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation and SGI in organizing a side event on victim assistance and environmental remediation.

In 2023, Kazakhstan’s diplomatic mission, SGI and the Center for International Security and Policy (CISP) organized another Vienna event on the consequences of nuclear testing at Semipalatinsk, including testimony from younger generations living with its legacy. Later that year in Astana, Kazakhstan’s Foreign Ministry and CISP brought together SGI, the International Campaign to Abolish Nuclear Weapons (ICAN), the International Committee of the Red Cross and others for a conference marking the International Day against Nuclear Tests.

Mr. Hirotsugu Terasaki, Chief Executive Director of SGI Peace Center. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri, Multimedia Director of INPS Japan

“Many people in Kazakhstan share the same strong desire for nuclear disarmament because they know firsthand the reality of nuclear suffering,” Terasaki told INPS Japan, drawing a parallel with the aspirations of people in Japan shaped by the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

His observation points to a broader dimension of Kazakhstan’s engagement with civil society: cooperation built not only around diplomatic objectives, but also around shared historical experience, humanitarian concerns and a determination to prevent future generations from enduring similar suffering.

These initiatives reflect a broader pattern: states negotiate treaties and security arrangements, while civil society brings survivors’ testimony, medical evidence, environmental damage and intergenerational responsibility into the discussion. For Kazakhstan, whose closure of Semipalatinsk was shaped by a popular anti-nuclear movement, such cooperation is part of the foundation of its disarmament diplomacy.

A Group photo of participants of the regional conference on the humanitarian consequences of nuclear weapons and nuclear-free-zone in Central Asia held on August 29, 2023. Credit: Jibek Joly TV Channel

A Nuclear Connection With Japan

Kazakhstan’s relationship with Japan is also shaped by a shared history of nuclear suffering.

Kazakhstan-Japan

Japan also co-sponsored the U.N. resolution establishing Aug. 29 as the International Day against Nuclear Tests and has worked with Kazakhstan to promote the entry into force of the CTBT.

A World Moving in the Opposite Direction

The international environment surrounding the 35th anniversary is bleak.

More than 10,000 nuclear warheads remain worldwide, and major nuclear powers continue to modernize their arsenals. With New START gone, the United States and Russia no longer operate under a comprehensive, legally binding framework limiting their strategic nuclear forces.

The NPT Review Conference ended in May without a final document, the third consecutive review cycle to end without substantive consensus. The CTBT, opened for signature three decades ago and supported by nearly the entire international community, has still not entered into force.

Memory Is Not Enough

Writing in The Astana Times ahead of the anniversary, Dr. Dauren Aben of the Kazakhstan Institute for Strategic Studies described the lesson of Semipalatinsk in simple terms: not merely to remember, but to “remember and act.”

Dauren Abenuly Aben. Credit: KazISS

In 1991, Kazakhstan could preserve the nuclear arsenal it inherited as a symbol of national power, or give it up. It chose the second.

That decision did not eliminate nuclear weapons or guarantee irreversible disarmament. Today, the world may instead be entering a new era of nuclear competition.

But one fact remains: a state that had the opportunity to become a nuclear power chose not to do so.

Over the next 35 years, Kazakhstan connected that choice to nuclear-weapon-free zones, the global test ban, the TPNW, victim assistance and environmental remediation. Its cooperation with SGI and a broad range of civil society organizations forms part of that history.

A view of the Headquarters of the United Nations in New York as seen from the north of the UN site. Credit: UN Photo/Yutaka Nagata

Even so, the question posed by the treaty increasingly resembles the question posed by Kazakhstan’s experience:

Does possessing nuclear weapons make nations safer?

Or does genuine security ultimately require a world in which nuclear weapons no longer exist?

Across the former Semipalatinsk testing grounds, traces of the explosions remain — reminders of what humanity has already done with nuclear weapons.

But 35 years ago, Kazakhstan gave the site another meaning: evidence that a country could move from building and testing nuclear weapons toward a deliberate decision to reject them.

The question now is whether the rest of the world still has the political will to make the same choice.

This article is brought to you by INPS Japan and Soka Gakkai International, in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.

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Lake Chungará and Parinacota volcano in northern Chile
Credit: Gerd Breitenbach, under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license

By Céline Delacroix
OTTAWA, Canada, Aug 28 2026 (IPS)

This week is World Water Week, the annual conference of governments, business, and civil society on building a water-secure future as global population, climate disruptions, and water demand increase. In Washington, it’s also Water Resources Development Act season, when every two years the US Congress reauthorizes the legilslation that funds US drinking water, wastewater systems, and flood risk management projects.

Water security ought to be something everyone can agree on, and there are long traditions of bipartisanship in past WRDA reauthorizations, and of diversity and inclusiveness in World Water Week conferences. But these days, water is increasingly a trigger for division, from the public outcry over data center water usage to anti-abortion activists introducing legislation to designate the abortion medication mifepristone as a water pollutant and get the US Environmental Protection Agency to regulate it, which is another way to restrict access to it.

For the record, mifepristone is no threat to waterways. Research overwhelmingly confirms its safety and efficacy, and a Food and Drug Administration assessment found its environmental accumulation in water was less than one part per billion. The lone study alleging mifepristone is a water pollutant is junk science. It used a debunked testing method and was published in a journal run by anti-abortion activists, and then cited by other anti-abortion activists.

While the mifepristone water scare is clearly disinformation, it’s so pointedly backwards that it points up an important truth: it isn’t abortion medication that threatens water security; on the contrary, it’s attacks on it and on family planning in general that pose a real threat.

There are several reasons for this. If family planning access is curtailed or cut off and birthrates rise, so will water demand and water stress. It will be worse in places with faster population growth, and worse globally for women and girls, who are the ones who have to collect the water in 80% of households experiencing shortages. Over 2 billion people lack safely managed drinking water. Women and girls suffer disproportionately from water shortages, yet they are generally excluded from decision making bodies or leadership positions that would give them a say in managing water.

In general, research shows that where gender disparities are high, women have more babies, population grows faster, and water scarcity gets worse. But the reverse is also true: where there is investment in and access to comprehensive family planning, and where women and girls are more empowered and included in decision making about managing water resources, over time birth rates decline, water stress eases, and water resiliency grows.

It ought to be obvious that population trends, changing demographics, and urbanization influence demand for water, food, energy, and land. Yet they are strangely absent from discourse on managing environment resources, including water governance. Ditto for gender inequality, which has a strong bearing on population growth.

The UN warns of “living beyond our hydrological means” amid water crisis and reaching “global water bankruptcy,” where water degradation has largely become irreversible. Population and gender issues are not controlling factors in this per se, as their impacts depend on patterns of production and consumption, technology, inequality and governanceThe same number of people can have radically different environmental footprints depending on where and how they live.

But population trends and gender equity are still important variables in how we use water and other resources that planners should not ignore. As human numbers and consumption levels rise, our ecological footprint, including water consumption, has become overwhelming and unsustainable.

This year, the Earth as a whole reached “overshoot day” – the day past which we’re consuming more in a given year than the Earth’s resources can regenerate — on July 30. The U.S. reached it March 14.

Climate change is intensifying drought, altering precipitation and snowpack, putting pressure on groundwater and surface water. For xample, fast regional population growth and development have stressed the Colorado River, which supplies roughly 40 million people and now faces severe and persistent shortages. In other water-stressed regions of the US, agriculture is the biggest consumer of shrinking water resources. The Ogallala Aquifer, for example, is getting depleted faster than it can naturally recharge.

Population dynamics are part of this complex picture. Water resources are embedded in an intricate web of human and ecological interaction. Water governance needs to take a broad, holistic view to understand the nexus of biodiversity, food production, and human needs and health as part of the same interconnected system of planetary health. Within that, managing water requires considering how population trends, human behavior, gender equity, technology, and human-caused climate change influence water systems.

The last thing policymakers should be doing is demonizing family planning as some kind of threat to the water supply. Reproductive health services are an intrinsic matter of human right, but they have critical environmental co-benefits, too, including easing population pressures on overtaxed water resources.

Managing water is not just about pipes and pumps; it’s about complex interactions between humans and ecosystems, managing them so they respect ecological limits as well as human rights and equity, which ultimately are all part of the same complex web. Water connects everything. Policymaking should too.

Céline Delacroix is adjunct professor at the University of Ottawa’s School of Health Sciences, a Senior Fellow with the Population Institute, and Director of the FP/Earth Project.

IPS UN Bureau

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The consequences of flooding extend far beyond damaged roads and infrastructure. They reach America’s farmlands, the soul of America’s food supply. Credit: Shutterstock

By Esther Ngumbi and Christy Gibson
URBANA, Illinois, US, Aug 27 2026 (IPS)

Across the U.S. Midwest, from Illinois to Indiana to Ohio, severe storms and heavy rains  caused devastating flooding, extensive damage to infrastructure, and the displacement of hundreds of thousands of people. The historic scale and severity of flooding led to the issuance of disaster proclamations for the States of Illinois and Indiana.

Often underestimated and overlooked are the devastating and economically costly consequences of flooding for agriculture, crop production, agroecosystems, and, most importantly, America’s Midwest region’s critical infrastructure: its farmlands which lead the nation in the production of major crops, including corn and soybeans, collectively contributing to the United States agriculture  sector that is valued at $1.5 trillion.

Policymakers must pay attention to flooding and recognize it as a serious threat to American agriculture, with devastating impacts on America’s food supply, farm incomes, and national food security

This needs to change. Policymakers must pay attention to flooding and recognize it as a serious threat to American agriculture, with devastating impacts on America’s food supply, farm incomes, and national food security. Furthermore, evidence shows that the impacts of flooding on agriculture are comparable to those of drought, making a focus on flooding even more urgent.

Five reasons stand out as to why policymakers must pay attention to intensifying flooding events in the Midwest and their consequences for Midwestern agriculture.

First, the U.S. Midwest region is central and backbone of the American Nation’s food and energy systems. In 2024, Illinois, Iowa, and Minnesota alone produced more than half of the nation’s corn and soybeans. Furthermore, the importance of Midwest grown crops like corn extends beyond food and livestock feed. Data evidence shows that over 40% of U.S. grown corn has been used for ethanol production. When flooding disrupts Midwestern agriculture, the consequenses can reach beyond our food system and into America’s energy systems.

Second, flooding not only threatens crop production, but it also negatively impacts soil, soil functions, quality and countless number soil dwelling species including earthworms, and beneficial soil microbes, which are foundational ingredients to resilient agricultural production and functioning agroecosystems. These consequenses can persist long after flooding waters have receded, potentially affecting crop growth and productivity in subsequent seasons.

Third, flooding imposes costs on the insurance industry and other stakeholders supporting Midwest agriculture. From 1989 to 2020, excess moisture was the fastest-growing cause of loss reported to the USDA Risk Management Agency, increasing in 97 percent of the counties reporting, while total inflation-adjusted crop insurance indemnities rose 374 percent.

Of the $21.94 billion in crop and rangeland losses in 2023, nearly $10 billion was not covered by RMA programs, and excessive precipitation, flooding, and hurricanes accounted for $3.99 billion of the total. These costs also affect the businesses that transport crops: when flooding disrupts roads, rails, and rivers serving local grain elevators, those elevators pay farmers about 24 cents less per bushel for corn and 32 cents less per bushel for soybeans.

Fourth, our models are most confident that spring precipitation will increase by ~25-50% by the late century. However, single-day extreme precipitation events and excess summer precipitation are less predictable; one such event was the recent flash flooding across the Midwestern corridor this August.

This is especially concerning given that crops are in the reproductive stage and close to harvest, when farmers have already incurred the costs of this season’s crops and crops may have been affected by wet soil earlier in the season.

Waterlogging at reproductive stages has been estimated globally to reduce yields by 41.9 percent, compared with 34.8 percent at vegetative stages. Fields already stressed by wet soils earlier in the season may be damaged by both events. The loss in crop yields could be catastrophic for an already vulnerable sector.

Fifth, current policies are not keeping pace with the changing timing of flooding events. Although the United States Department of Agriculture has put in place several Federal programs to assist farmers, including prevented planting coverage, disaster and conservation assistance, and crop insurance, and continues to update these programs, many of these work best for flooding that happens early in the growing season rather than for flooding that devastates established crops later in the growing season.

The recent flooding events occurred in August, when crops including corn and soybeans are well established, and there is an urgent need for policymakers to reassess existing policies to ensure that farmers are shielded from production losses, income disruptions, and other economic costs that arise when flooding occurs late in the season.

American policymakers cannot afford to overlook or underestimate the extensive, devastating impacts of flooding on agriculture and the stakeholders who support the agricultural sector.

The consequences of flooding extend far beyond damaged roads and infrastructure. They reach America’s farmlands, the soul of America’s food supply, a sector already affected by rising fuel costs and fertilizer shortages, and may be compounded by supply-chain disruptions caused by flooding, as in 2019.

Policymakers must seize the opportunity to re-examine whether existing policies and recent investments, including the $700 million pilot program to support regenerative agriculture practices, can help the Midwest region and its farmlands meet the challenges brought about by increasing flooding and other severe weather events. Where policies fall short, policy makers must create new ones. Time is of essence.

Esther Ngumbi, PhD, is an Associate Professor in the Department of Entomology at the University of Illinois Urbana Champaign.

Christy Gibson, PhD, is an Illinois Distinguished Postdoctoral Scholar in the Department of Crop Sciences at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign, where she studies how floods and droughts reshape farming systems and the ecosystems that sustain them

By James Alix Michel
VICTORIA, Seychelles, Aug 26 2026 (IPS)

Across this vast ocean, the latest monitoring by Mercator Ocean International shows marine heatwave conditions ranging from moderate to severe. At the same time, the World Meteorological Organization expects a strong El Niño to intensify through August to October, with a positive Indian Ocean Dipole also likely to develop. These are not distant scientific signals. They are an urgent warning that the ocean system on which millions depend is under mounting stress.

The Indian Ocean in particular has sustained communities for generations. It provides food and livelihoods, carries trade and travel, shapes our cultures and moderates our climate. It is also one connected living system – its currents carry heat, nutrients, fish (as well as pollution, unfortunately) across borders drawn on maps. Its coral reefs, mangroves, seagrass meadows and open waters support people from the eastern coast of Africa to South Asia, and from the islands of the western Indian Ocean to the Maldives and beyond. When ocean temperatures rise abnormally, the consequences are not confined to a scientific bulletin. They are seen in the health of coral reefs, in the movement and abundance of fish, in the safety of coastal communities, and in the future of tourism and fisheries. They are felt in the weakening of the natural protection that reefs, mangroves and coastal habitats provide against erosion, flooding and storms.

Coral reefs are especially vulnerable. They can sometimes recover from an isolated bleaching event if temperatures fall quickly enough. But repeated bleaching and prolonged heat stress allow too little time for recovery. When reefs deteriorate, the consequences extend beyond biodiversity: fish habitats are lost, shorelines become more exposed, tourism suffers and communities lose part of their natural and cultural inheritance. This is why ocean warming is not simply an environmental issue. It is an issue of food security, jobs, development, economic stability and justice.

For decades, humanity has relied on the ocean’s exceptional capacity to cushion the climate crisis. The ocean absorbs more than 90 percent of the excess heat trapped by greenhouse gas emissions. By doing so, it has moderated atmospheric warming and spared humanity even more severe disruption. But there is a limit to what we can ask of the sea. Small island developing states have contributed little to the cumulative emissions destabilising the global climate. Yet we are among the first to face the consequences. We cannot move our reefs. We cannot relocate our coastlines without immense social and economic cost. We cannot separate the wellbeing of our people and economies from the health of the ocean. For island people, climate vulnerability is not an abstract concept. It is a daily reality.

Still, island states must not be viewed only as victims. We are custodians of extensive ocean spaces, centres of practical innovation and partners in the search for sustainable solutions. Seychelles has tried to demonstrate that economic development and marine conservation need not be enemies. Through marine spatial planning, Seychelles has committed 30 percent of its waters to protection, while advancing a blue economy vision based on stewardship rather than depletion. This is not charity towards nature. It is a recognition that there can be no enduring prosperity if fish stocks decline, reefs deteriorate and coastal ecosystems are damaged beyond recovery.

Across the Indian Ocean, other island and coastal states are also restoring habitats, improving fisheries management, investing in renewable energy, strengthening marine conservation and building more resilient communities. Their efforts deserve recognition and support. They show that those most exposed to climate risk are not waiting passively for rescue. They are protecting a shared ocean heritage, often with scarce resources. But local and regional action cannot substitute for the choices that must be made globally.

First, the world must reduce greenhouse gas emissions much more rapidly. Adaptation is indispensable, particularly for small island developing states. We need stronger early-warning systems, more ocean observation, investment in reef and coastal restoration, secure water supplies and infrastructure designed for a changing climate. But adaptation cannot indefinitely protect an ocean that continues to accumulate heat. No sea wall, restoration programme or emergency plan can replace decisive action to reduce emissions.

Second, climate finance must become fairer, faster and easier to access. Island states should not have to devote years of limited institutional capacity to complex procedures simply to secure support for renewable energy, water security, coastal protection, marine research and ecosystem restoration. Those facing the greatest climate risks require genuine partnership – not delayed promises, burdensome processes and inadequate resources.

Third, the countries of the Indian Ocean must deepen regional cooperation. Marine heatwaves, coral bleaching, illegal fishing, biodiversity loss and coastal erosion do not stop at national boundaries. We need better ocean observation, data-sharing and regional early-warning systems. We need stronger scientific cooperation, responsible fisheries management and coordinated protection of the ecosystems connecting our islands and coasts.

The Indian Ocean should not be seen merely as a corridor for trade or a theatre for geopolitical competition. It is a shared living system, whose health is fundamental to the security and prosperity of everyone who depends on it. The current warming should also remind us that the ocean is not an inexhaustible resource. It has regulated our climate, sustained our communities, supported our economies and linked our peoples for generations. Yet we still behave as though its capacity to absorb our impacts has no limits. It does.

The islands of the Indian Ocean are not asking for sympathy. We are calling for shared responsibility. We know that ocean health is inseparable from the security of our people. We know that protecting nature and pursuing development must go hand in hand. And we know that every year of delay makes adaptation more costly, the damage more severe and the choices before us more difficult. As a result, the Indian Ocean is sounding the alarm. Its islands are among the first to hear it. But the warning is not ours alone. It is for every country whose climate, food security, economy and future depend on a living ocean.

James Michel, is Former President of the Republic of Seychelles

IPS UN Bureau

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Photo highlighting the activities and successes of the 'Promoting Nature-based Solutions for Land Restoration while Strengthening National Monitoring Technical Working Group in Kenya: Phase 2' project funded by UK PACT. Credit: Anthony Ochieng/CIFOR-ICRAF

By Lulseged Tamene Desta and Cargele Masso
NAIROBI, Kenya, Aug 26 2026 (IPS)

Several coalitions exist today to defend the territories in which people live and work. Global leaders have long understood the importance of shared responsibility for collective security and have invested significant time in establishing networks, partnerships and alliances. In 2025, global spending on defense reached a record $2.9 trillion.

But the global community is increasingly recognizing that today’s gravest existential risks arise from a war being waged against nature itself – and our defenses are woefully fragmented and underfunded. The world is investing only about $220 billion a year for nature-based solutions, compared to $7.3 trillion for nature-negative activities.

This is not just a discrete, isolated environmental concern. The triple planetary crises of land degradation, biodiversity loss and climate change are worsening food insecurity, water scarcity and ecosystem collapse, threatening millions of lives.

Collectively, the impact of the ongoing assault on nature is amplifying conflict, worsening migration, driving inflation higher, and fomenting geopolitical instability. Unless restoration and sustainable management of resources is in place, the world is expected to lose more than US$23 trillion by 2050, while halting this trend would cost around $4.6 trillion.

Many solutions to these interconnected crises exist but have been ineffective to date. Limited coordination and collaboration between countries, sectors and disciplines, as well as insufficient resources and short-term approaches to long-term challenges, mean we are far behind the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals. Despite compelling evidence of the costs of degradation, investment remains far below what is needed because opportunities are rarely presented as credible, investable propositions.

To change this, two things must happen. First, governments, international agencies, academia and civil society must unite through a grand coalition to bring together those currently working in isolation to achieve greater impact than the sum of their parts – a kind of mutual pact to protect nature.

Photo highlighting the activities and successes of the ‘Promoting Nature-based Solutions for Land Restoration while Strengthening National Monitoring Technical Working Group in Kenya: Phase 2’ project funded by UK PACT. Credit: Anthony Ochieng/CIFOR-ICRAF

And second, this grand coalition must also engineer a funding paradigm shift from focusing on environmental challenges to investing in the many opportunities of conservation and restoration.

The ongoing UN COP17 desertification talks in Mongolia, where the theme is “Restoring Land, Restoring Hope”, is the perfect opportunity to progress this.

Evidence shows that integrated approaches to address landscape degradation solve multiple interconnected challenges.

For example, investment in soil and water conservation in the Adarsha watershed in southern India has been found to improve water availability, agricultural productivity, and rural livelihoods. Analysis showed that yields of maize intercropped with pigeonpea increased by 148% while households in the watershed were less affected by droughts compared to those in the non-watershed area.

In Kenya and Tanzania, the adoption of Participatory Rangeland Management improved rangeland condition and resilience to climate shocks for more than 90% of participating communities.

Despite evidence from these successes, these interventions are not being invested in and applied at the scale needed to transform the world’s food, land and water systems in ways that can build long-term, far-reaching resilience.

Countries, donors, financing institutions and civil society must come together in a grand coalition to direct the coordination, governance and investment necessary to tackle these crises where they all interconnect: at the landscape level.

A grand coalition would offer a dedicated focal point to integrate and advance the UN’s goals for climate, biodiversity and land degradation, allowing for stronger coordination and shaping the global agenda for informed decision-making. Critically, the coalition would lead the redirection away from ineffective, siloed solutions and the self-defeating environmental trade-offs they create.

A grand coalition would also create a platform for establishing the rigorous systems of governance essential to achieving global goals for nature, including fair and inclusive land tenure and governance over water systems. Understanding the true cost of landscape governance and inaction is instrumental for adequate investments.

Lastly, a grand coalition would gather the evidence to help shift the emphasis of finance for nature towards investments that benefit everyone. By identifying a menu of options for turning grand challenges into grand opportunities, the coalition would unlock the financing from banks, donors, philanthropies and other development funders needed to scale interventions globally.

The UNCCD COP17 talks in Mongolia is not just an opportunity to address the challenges facing land. It’s a moment to foster unity around a shared threat to all of our territories. CGIAR and its partners will play its part by developing an investment plan to anchor greater coordination in collaboration with the grand coalition of action for shared human and planetary outcomes.

Landscapes are where our greatest environmental and human challenges today are playing out, from declining biodiversity to the deforestation driving climate change, to increasing levels of food insecurity.

Investing in multifunctional landscapes through a unified global coalition, therefore, is not simply an environmental imperative for the world, but also a strategic one. Galvanizing support for landscape-centered solutions can simultaneously reduce future risks and strengthen economies and communities.

A global coalition for restoring and protecting landscapes would recognize a defining reality of the 21st century: protecting nature is fundamental for protecting us all.

Dr. Lulseged Tamene Desta, is Director of the CGIAR Multifunctional Landscapes Science Program
Cargele Masso, is Director of the CGIAR’s Environmental Health and Biodiversity Impact Area Platform

IPS UN Bureau

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Results of the vote on the approval of the appointment of the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, UN General Assembly, 24 July 2026. Credit: UN Photo/Loey Felipe

By Samuel King
BRUSSELS, Belgium, Aug 26 2026 (IPS)

On 24 July, the United Nations (UN) General Assembly reappointed Volker Türk as High Commissioner for Human Rights for a further four years. Only 10 states – among them Israel, Russia and the USA – opposed the decision.

Türk is an Austrian lawyer who’s spent almost his entire career in the UN system, from field postings in Kosovo to the UN refugee agency to his present role in Geneva. Because of this, when he became High Commissioner in October 2022, there were concerns he might be more cautious than his predecessors, but he has spoken out about violations committed by the powerful. He criticised Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, demanded investigations into deaths in US immigration detention and condemned Israel’s atrocities in Gaza. He has, however, faced criticism for not calling out Israel’s actions in Gaza as genocide and not speaking out enough on China, particularly concerning the situation of Uyghur people in Xinjiang.

The vote will make Türk the first person set to serve two full terms since the post was created in 1993. One early High Commissioner, Mary Robinson, wanted to stay on, but strong US resistance to her positions on its post-9/11 military interventionism and the 2001 Durban Conference — the UN’s World Conference against Racism, where Israel and the USA walked out due to its focus on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict — left her with only a one-year extension.

As a funding crisis continues to engulf the UN human rights system, continuity matters. US withdrawal from funding UN agencies, part of its broader assault on the international system in general and human rights bodies in particular, has placed the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) under serious financial strain, forcing staff cuts and reducing capacity to work in countries where human rights violations are taking place. A vacancy or a contested process would have added further disruption at a difficult time.

A rushed and contested process

The vote came unexpectedly and moved fast. UN Secretary-General António Guterres informed states of his intention to reappoint Türk without a public process, open competition or much time for deliberation. With Guterres’ second term ending this year, the move was likely intended to keep the decision off his successor’s desk and prevent opposition from building.

Most states accepted this, but the USA didn’t. It immediately moved to delay the vote, citing insufficient consultation. Ireland, speaking for the European Union, opposed the US motion, which was defeated by 63 votes to 27. The USA’s representative called the process ‘classic UN cronyism’, accused Guterres of cutting a backroom deal and warned there would be ‘consequences’. Russia tried a different tactic, proposing to extend Türk’s mandate by just 81 days, to the end of 2026, leaving the decision to the next Secretary-General. That too was rejected, by 71 votes to 19.

Argentina, Burkina Faso, Israel, Mali, Nicaragua, Niger, North Korea, Russia, Trinidad and Tobago and the USA voted against Türk’s reappointment. The list contains tight US allies, such as Argentina and Israel, and states that align with Russia, such as North Korea and the three military-run states of the Sahel, which are increasingly working as a bloc. Under the Trump administration, it’s no longer a surprise to see the USA voting the same way as Russia. Most of the states, including Nicaragua, systematically violate human rights. Russia and North Korea both resist any accountability for human rights violations, while the USA particularly objected to Türk’s criticism of its war on Iran and migration detention deaths. Israel accused the OHCHR of having ‘erased the atrocities of October 7 and betrayed UN neutrality’.

Some states that might have been expected to vote against Türk, however, supported him. Among the 144 who backed his reappointment were the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Sudan and Syria, all states subject to active UN scrutiny. This suggested that hostility to a specific human rights mandate doesn’t necessarily extend to the whole system, and even heavily scrutinised states may see value in a working relationship with the OHCHR.

A vulnerable human rights system

The 13 abstentions and 26 no-shows also deserve attention. Some were procedural, with Ecuador and Paraguay saying afterwards that they wanted more time. Peru cited concerns about limiting the incoming Secretary-General’s flexibility, though its abstention may also reflect Türk’s recent criticism of Peru’s human rights record, including laws granting amnesty to security forces accused of serious violations during armed conflict between 1980 and 2000.

Iraq, New Zealand, South Korea, Sri Lanka and Uganda all abstained. New Zealand described its position as ‘procedural rather than policy’, but the decision drew sharp domestic criticism, not least given its recent failure to recognise Palestinian statehood.

Among the smaller states that ducked a decision, some likely faced economic or political pressure from the most powerful states to stay quiet, while others may have judged themselves insufficiently protected from the consequences of taking a visible position. This means the vote may reflect vulnerability as much as it measures support for the High Commissioner. As the most powerful states increasingly throw their weight around in the international system, smaller states may have to make calculations about when they can afford to take a position and when they need to stay quiet.

Continuity as the outcome

Institutional continuity is the immediate outcome, and Türk has signalled what he intends to do with it. In a June speech, he described an ‘unprecedented, shameless onslaught against international law’ that’s causing appalling human suffering, insisted the international community must stay focused on fundamentals and declared the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and the core treaties ‘ever more important’. His message to the G7, meeting nearby, was blunt: put human rights at the centre of discussions as a force for stability, not an afterthought.

Legitimacy and moral authority, however, won’t pay the OHCHR’s bills. Over the next four years, Türk must resist China, Russia and the USA as they work to undermine the UN bodies that protect human rights. The 144 states that backed Türk now carry the responsibility of turning their votes into action. They should ensure the OHCHR is adequately funded and work to bring on board states that abstained, particularly if they did so out of fear. They must show that collective commitment to human rights still counts for something.

Samuel King is a researcher with the Horizon Europe-funded research project ENSURED: Shaping Cooperation for a World in Transition at CIVICUS: World Alliance for Citizen Participation.

For interviews or more information, please contact research@civicus.org

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The choice is not between an unmanageably open meeting and a completely closed process. What matters is that observers have some direct line into the negotiations and can see that their expertise and proposals are genuinely considered. Credit: Albert Oppong-Ansah/IPS.

By Craig Boljkovac
GENEVA, Aug 24 2026 (IPS)

In 2022, the United Nations Environment Assembly mandated an Intergovernmental Negotiating Committee (INC) to develop a global, legally binding instrument addressing the full life cycle of plastics, from production and product design to disposal. After the resumed fifth session adjourned without consensus in Geneva in August 2025, the divided process moved into informal consultations before INC-5.4 in March 2027.

The exclusion of observers from the June 2026 Heads of Delegation meeting in Nairobi and the next meeting in Bangkok points to a forced separation between governments and observers during these decisive months. At the moment the negotiations most need scientific knowledge, practical experience, public scrutiny and political confidence, they are becoming less inclusive.

Governments negotiate treaties and take decisions; observers do not claim either function. Meaningful observer participation is nevertheless a mainstream feature of United Nations environmental negotiations, not an optional courtesy or a privilege that must be earned by reorganizing civil society into a form administratively convenient to the Chair and Secretariat

There should be no misunderstanding about roles. Governments negotiate treaties and take decisions; observers do not claim either function.

Meaningful observer participation is nevertheless a mainstream feature of United Nations environmental negotiations, not an optional courtesy or a privilege that must be earned by reorganizing civil society into a form administratively convenient to the Chair and Secretariat.

At the online consultation with observers on 14 July 2026, I personally asked Chair Julio Cordano whether there would be any opportunity for observers to participate face-to-face with governments in the pre-negotiations before INC-5.4.

His answer, although somewhat circuitous, was clear: there would not. The official roadmap currently places governments in informal in-person meetings while observers are offered separate webinars in which they may share their views with the Chair.

The webinars may be useful, but they are not participation in the negotiations. Observers speaking to the Chair while governments negotiate separately is consultation at a distance. Direct observer engagement with governments may therefore be almost entirely prevented until INC-5.4, with no certainty about how meaningful participation will be even then.

Bangkok is important, but it is not the fundamental issue. The question is whether the remaining process will rebuild trust and establish genuine engagement rather than maintain parallel tracks.

The Chair’s statement that INC-5.4 will follow previously agreed participation arrangements, including observers, is cautiously positive, but it does not replace clear modalities or direct engagement while the political package is being shaped.

None of this is intended as disrespect toward Ambassador Cordano. He inherited an exceptionally difficult negotiation, with a fractured text and a political divide between the High Ambition Coalition and the Like-Minded countries.

The June Heads of Delegation meeting reportedly produced a more constructive atmosphere, and confidential spaces for governments to test compromises are sometimes essential. But confidentiality and meaningful observer engagement are not mutually exclusive.

The Stockholm Convention negotiations set an admittedly high bar. Civil-society networks organized themselves, developed technical and policy positions and built working relationships with governments throughout the process.

The International Pollutants (formerly “POPs”) Elimination Network – IPEN – itself emerged at the first Stockholm Convention INC in 1998 as a self-organised public interest entity for engagement in such negotiations.

The Rotterdam and Stockholm Convention secretariats continue to recognize NGOs as important stakeholders and provide for their representation as observers at meetings of Convention bodies. These negotiations did not succeed ‘despite’ observer involvement; they benefited from the expertise, organization, implementation knowledge and political attention observers brought.

The plastics negotiations should aim to meet or exceed that standard, not retreat from it. Plastics are chemical products, made with chemical inputs, that generate enormous pollution and waste-management challenges. The negotiations belong within the chemicals and wastes tradition, where constructive observer participation has been part of both treaty development and implementation.

The UNEA mandate points in the same direction. Resolution 5/14 stressed the need for the widest and most effective participation possible, opened participation to relevant stakeholders consistent with applicable UN rules and requested UNEP to facilitate their participation and cooperation.

More generally, UNEP accreditation gives civil-society organizations observer status at UNEA and its subsidiary bodies, with opportunities for written and oral contributions. A process that progressively removes stakeholders from the settings in which substantive discussions occur diminishes the practical meaning of that mandate.

The Chair’s continuing emphasis on “organizing” and “rationalizing” observer participation is therefore understandable as an attempt to manage a large and diverse community at a particularly fraught point in the negotiations, but it becomes concerning when substantive proposals from major observer groups receive no meaningful response.

Better coordination may improve participation; it cannot be a prerequisite for access. Indigenous Peoples, scientists, waste pickers, workers, public-health organizations, environmental NGOs, consumer groups, local authorities and business coalitions have distinct mandates and cannot simply be compressed into a few convenient voices without losing the diversity that gives observer participation its value.

There is, however, a practical way forward. the process that the WHO Framework Convention on Tobacco Control has made a distinction between observers with “vested interests” (i.e. the tobacco companies and their associated interests) and the “public interest.” This possible approach has also been suggested during the negotiations, with no substantive response received.

Alternatively, UNEP already has a recognized Major Groups Facilitating Committee, composed of elected representatives of the nine Major Groups and supported by the UNEP Civil Society Unit, whose responsibility includes facilitating accredited civil-society participation in UNEP’s intergovernmental processes.

The Chair could ask this existing mechanism to invite each Major Group to nominate one or two organizations, selected for relevant expertise and balanced representation, to attend informal governmental meetings as silent observers or, where appropriate, to contribute at designated sessions.

This would resemble the approach used under the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change, where the secretariat contacts constituency focal points to nominate a limited and balanced number of observer representatives for smaller workshops and meetings.

The model is imperfect: UNEP’s Major Groups do not neatly encompass every constituency engaged in the plastics negotiations, and limited representation at informal meetings must not replace broad access at formal INC sessions. It would nevertheless remove the claim that observers have failed to organize themselves, place responsibility within an existing and recognized UNEP process, and avoid the Chair or Secretariat choosing preferred interlocutors.

The choice is not between an unmanageably open meeting and a completely closed process. What matters is that observers have some direct line into the negotiations and can see that their expertise and proposals are genuinely considered.

The present separation also carries financial and political risks. The INC has depended heavily on voluntary donor support. As of 25 March 2026, UNEP reported more than USD 40 million in contributions, including more than USD 7.2 million from Norway and approximately USD 2.5 million from Switzerland. Norway’s subsequent review and reported hold on aspects of its wider UNEP funding was already a warning that financing cannot be treated as politically unconditional.

No donor has announced that restrictions on observers will cause it to withdraw support. Donor governments may nevertheless ask why they should continue financing a process that repeatedly postpones decisions, accommodates the least ambitious actors and limits access for many of the organizations supplying evidence, implementation experience and public accountability. A process that loses legitimacy also places its financing at risk.

INC-5.4 is the final credible test of whether the UNEP process can produce a treaty reflecting the mandate agreed in 2022. The session cannot arrive after months of closed governmental discussions with observers presented with a largely completed political package. The Chair and Secretariat should clarify participation modalities now and establish structured, direct engagement with observers before March, using UNEP’s existing civil-society architecture if necessary.

If INC-5.4 produces another continuation or a lowest-common-denominator text stripped of meaningful lifecycle measures and effective controls on products, production and chemicals, high-ambition governments should be prepared to pursue an Ottawa-style diplomatic process.

That is not the preferred outcome; a strong global treaty concluded through UNEP remains the better course. But the UN process cannot demand political loyalty, donor financing and stakeholder expertise while progressively closing the door on those stakeholders.

Rebuilding trust with observers will not solve every substantive division in the plastics negotiations. It is, however, a necessary test of whether the process still intends to be ambitious, legitimate and capable of delivering an effective treaty. If that test cannot be met, countries serious about ending plastic pollution may need to create a different pathway.

Craig Boljkovac is Executive Director of Green Cross International and has more than 35 years of experience in international environmental policy and sustainable development. He is a co-founder of IPEN. He has participated in several sessions and related meetings of the global plastics treaty negotiations. The opinions expressed are his own.

Supporters of the Cockroach Janta party rally against the Minister of Education in Kolkata, India, 24 July 2026. Credit: Debarchan Chatterjee/NurPhoto via AFP

By Andrew Firmin
LONDON, Aug 21 2026 (IPS)

India’s strongman leader, Narendra Modi, has just been forced to do the thing he likes least: making concessions in response to protests.

It all started on 15 May, when the country’s Chief Justice, Surya Kant, told a courtroom that unemployed young people who protest and speak out on social media are like cockroaches. The remark, revealing the establishment’s contempt for the country’s young people, spectacularly backfired. Within days it had spawned a nationwide movement, the Cockroach Janta Party. Its central protest demand was the resignation of Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan. Pradhan quit on 25 July. But that may not be enough to satisfy the demand for change the movement has unleashed.

Birth of a movement

India has more Gen Z people than any other country. Around 407 million Indians, some 30 per cent of the population, are aged 14 to 29. They face extraordinary competition to access education and struggle to find jobs.

Kant’s remark sparked a fire. Communications strategist Abhijeet Dipke asked on social media: what if all the cockroaches came together? That question kickstarted a viral movement under a name, the Cockroach Janta Party, that playfully echoes that of the ruling Hindu nationalist party, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). What began as a satirical website quickly became a movement. Within two weeks, it had 22 million Instagram followers.

The cockroach movement fits into a broader global pattern. Recent years have seen Gen Z mobilise in numbers in many countries where governments are demonstrably out of touch and economies and political systems fail young people. Movements are characterised by collective leadership, mass protests and strategic use of social media. India’s time to join the wave had come.

The movement soon found its galvanising cause. India’s education system relies on make-or-break entrance exams, with results deciding the career prospects of millions. In the medical college exam, some 2.2 million students compete for 130,000 places. Families make sacrifices and students spend years preparing. But corruption means questions are often leaked in return for bribes. Two weeks before Kant’s outburst, the national medical college entrance exam paper was leaked and the exam was cancelled. Students despaired. Then they got angry.

Protest prevails

Protesters camped out for weeks in central Delhi, demanding Pradhan’s resignation. Volunteers supplied food, water, medicines and camping equipment. The movement broadened well beyond Gen Z, with people of all ages joining. Sonam Wangchuk, an environmental and education reform activist previously jailed for protesting, further raised the protest’s profile with a weeks-long hunger strike.

For seven weeks the government tried ignoring the protesters, and when that failed, it turned to violence. After authorities forcibly hospitalised Wangchuk, thousands of protesters marched from the protest site to parliament. Security forces responded with pellet guns and teargas, beat protesters and bystanders with batons and wooden sticks and detained many. The violence, widely documented on social media, was shocking for a country that prides itself on being the world’s biggest democracy. It was impossible to ignore, sparking protests in other towns and cities. The government was finally forced to hold talks.

Looking ahead

The government has promised fast-track courts for exam leakers and a review of the exam and education systems. In return, the movement called off the protests, having also secured a promise that no protester would face repercussions. But that’s not the way of a government that has long repressed dissent. Modi’s administration has a track record of detaining activists, using force against protests, censoring critical voices and passing restrictive laws. India has recently been added to the CIVICUS Monitor Watchlist because of its deteriorating civic space. Since the cockroach protests ended, police have detained and harassed hundreds of students and reportedly targeted their families.

Pradhan’s resignation was a remarkable event. The government had never before responded to pressure by sacking an unpopular minister. But the BJP doesn’t appear to have learned much. During a recent by-election campaign, its national president, Nitin Nabin, described protesters as ‘a virus and a cockroach gang devoted to breaking the country’.

Modi may have bought breathing space, but the underlying problems remain. The causes are both economic, with high youth unemployment and evident inequality, and political, with a high-handed government that doesn’t listen to young people or respect their right to dissent. Further protests look likely. One, sparked by similar corruption complaints over a civil service entry exam, has mobilised in Jharkhand state.

This isn’t the first time Modi’s government has bent to pressure. In 2021, sustained farmers’ protests forced it to drop farming law changes. Modi’s support fell in the 2024 general election, forcing him to rely on coalition partners. More recently, his party looked to be on the up again, winning power in West Bengal state for the first time in April following controversial changes to the electoral roll that removed over nine million names, disproportionately Muslim voters and others less likely to support the BJP. But it has just lost the by-election where Nitin Nabin repeated the cockroach slur.

The cockroach movement may present Modi’s biggest challenge to date, because it cuts across class, party and religious divides, making it much harder to dismiss. The BJP built its base among Hindus by vilifying Muslims, yet at the Delhi protest, people from both religions prayed side by side. The movement’s social media cut-through is also significant. It bypassed a conventional media largely co-opted by the BJP that typically parrots its lines and downplays other viewpoints.

The government should read the room, but there’s every chance it will learn the wrong lesson and go after protest leaders. That will be a recipe for further protests and a repeated cycle of state violence and criminalisation. If India is to live up to its promise as the world’s biggest democracy, it must deepen democratic freedoms, recognise the value of dissent and acknowledge that the young people it branded cockroaches have much to contribute to their country’s future.

Andrew Firmin is CIVICUS Editor-in-Chief, co-director and writer for CIVICUS Lens and co-author of the State of Civil Society Report.

For interviews or more information, please contact research@civicus.org

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Passersby take part in a pickup football game organized by civilian search collectives on Mexico City's Paseo de la Reforma during the World Cup, July 2026. © 2026 Jorge Peniche/Human Rights Watch

By Jorge Peniche
Aug 19 2026 (IPS)

Weeks have gone by since the World Cup ended. Its aftermath has sparked a broader conversation about who football’s biggest tournament belongs to and how it should look in 2030. One postscript to that conversation comes from Mexico.

In a country with more than 100,000 people registered as disappeared, families searching for their loved ones confronted an unusual question: how do you participate in a national celebration while carrying the grief of a missing loved one?

While fans immersed themselves in 104 matches and the outcome for the teams they were cheering for, the answer by the civilian search collectives, who come together to find missing relatives amid state inaction and often face considerable risks, was disarmingly bold: neither to ignore the tournament nor reject it, but to claim a place in it.

In a country where football pitches can be found from volcanoes to fields of Mexican agave plants, they carved out a pitch of their own in the country’s most emblematic avenue. And then they played football.

Around 9 a.m., the chalk lines for another pitch began to appear on the asphalt of Paseo de la Reforma in Mexico City. It was Mexico’s final day as a World Cup host. Sixteen kilometers north of the Azteca Stadium, the “Glorieta de los Desaparecidos,” a roundabout reclaimed by families as a memorial in 2022, was preparing for another game. These were among the pickup games that collectives organized as spaces of remembrance during the tournament. Pickup games took place the days Mexico was playing.

In a country with more than 100,000 people registered as disappeared, families searching for their loved ones confronted an unusual question: how do you participate in a national celebration while carrying the grief of a missing loved one?

The games followed a simple script: small teams of three to five faced off until they reached a set number of goals. Some were part of the collectives; others –including football fans– were passersby who joined. Some became regulars; children particularly. In that convergence, football became a vehicle for telling stories of absence. 

“Preparations started one year before the initial kick-in,” Jorge Verástegui, one of the initiative’s organizers, told me. 

His brother and nephew, Antonio and Antonio de Jesús, disappeared in the northern state of Coahuila in January 2009, when the Zetas cartel dominated much of the region.

“We were coming from a very frustrating year of dialogues with the government, so many of us, searching for our loved ones, asked how to engage with a World Cup taking place in Mexico,” he said, wearing a Mexican national team jersey emblazoned with a large picture of his brother. Organizers distributed over 300 similar jerseys, so families could add photos of their missing loved ones. Search collectives joined from across the country. 

For César Contreras, a lawyer at Centro Prodh, a human rights group that has represented families for decades, football became a way “to collectivize joy but also reflect on how we got here.” The interventions wanted to challenge the stigma of disappearances as a “sad topic that nobody wants to hear about.”

When children joined, one father told Contreras he would later explain to his son who he had been playing with.

Supporters created the “Ajolote Buscador” a reworking of the salamander that is the  city mascot, that became a regular presence at the pickup games. In Guadalajara, another Ajolote denounced the lack of resources for identification.

Mobilization was not without backlash from government authorities. U.N. experts raised concerns about restrictions faced by families while trying to make their voices heard. And violence against those seeking answers or accountability continued. During the World Cup, two searchers were killed, one in Guanajuato and another in Sinaloa. 

Yet, as Andrea Horcasitas, one researcher who has worked alongside search collectives put it, “in a context marked by exclusion from the city and restricted access, collectives sent a message of belonging: this celebration is also ours, and here we are,” 

Among the families who joined the pitches were Javier Barajas and María del Tránsito Piña, teachers who were originally from Guanajuato. 

Their daughter, Guadalupe, disappeared in Salvatierra in February 2020. Her brother, Francisco Javier, joined the local search commission and helped locate her remains in one of Mexico’s largest mass graves. Three months later, he was killed. Investigations linked both crimes to the same criminal group. Their parents were later displaced from their home state.

Football was a family ritual, their mother told me. Francisco Javier and his mother watched matches together, while Javier and Guadalupe prepared the snacks.

“Now, I can’t watch football. It’s just too painful,” she said.

Yet the couple eventually found their way to the pitches. Barajas played several matches as a tribute to his son and daughter. For his wife, the pickup games offered a distinct space: “I can feel them when I wear that jersey with their photos.”

The resistance to FIFA’s commercialization projects is a reminder that we ultimately cherish these tournaments because of the stories they leave behind. Mexico’s search collectives offer one of them.

For the families, the work continues. Ensuring their security remains an urgent task, particularly in places where lethal violence against them concentrates. So does advancing investigations grounded in local realities and reducing the backlog in forensic identification. 

Their message still resounds: this tournament was also theirs, because their stories are part of Mexico. 

Jorge Peniche is a senior Americas researcher at Human Rights Watch.

The 13th of August marked the 100th birthday of Cuba’s revolutionary leader Fidel Alejandro Castro Ruz – in short Fidel Castro. Amidst an intensified US siege and the threat of invasion, Cubans commemorated their dear leader’s centenary birth anniversary with events that included an International Book Fair, art exhibitions, concerts and gatherings of delegates from left-wing organisations across the continent.

Anis Chowdhury

Wayne Smith, a US diplomat with a long experience in Cuba, believes Fidel Castro will be remembered because “he stood up to the United States and survived”. When Castro died in 2016, the leading US news media CBS carried an opinion piece, entitled, “How Fidel Castro stood up to the U.S., and won”.

The illegal blockade of Cuba contributes to shortages of food, medicine, fuel, and essential supplies, increasing the cost of everyday life for the Cuban people. However, when Castro welcomed Pope John Paul II in 1998 and let the pictures do the talking, the world saw Cuba surviving in spite of the US trade embargo.

Castro’s legacy

Castro’s legacy was best summarised by Ken Livingstone, former mayor of London. In 2006, during his visit to Cuba, Livingstone said, “What’s amazing here is you’ve got a country that’s suffered an illegal economic blockade by the United States for almost half a century and yet it’s been able to give its people the best standard of health care, brilliant education… to do this in the teeth of an almost economic war is a tribute to Fidel Castro”.

Thus, Cuba attained high human development measured by the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP)’s Human Development Index (HDI). In comparison with the world average of 0.746 based on 185 countries, Cuba’s HDI was 0.762 in 2023. In 1994, Cuba’s HDI reached 0.887. Underlying the above global average HDI is a high adult literacy rate of nearly 100% and a high life expectancy of approximately 78.1 years at birth.

These are the results of free health care and free education for all, considered a right. Cuba has the highest ratio of doctors to patients in the world, at 9.8 per 1,000 people (2021), which was 0.9 in 1960. Its infant mortality of 3.86 per 1,000 live births is one of the lowest in the world. At the William Soler Paediatric Hospital in Havana, more than 90% of the new-borns who needed neonatal surgery survived their procedures.

Malaria, polio, tetanus, and measles have been eradicated in Cuba due to years of investment in primary care and assiduous attention to the population’s health. Cuba’s long-standing commitment to health has led to a successful COVID-19 pandemic response. Cuba spends a larger proportion of its gross domestic product on education than any other country in the world.

Unfortunately, the recent tightening of the unilateral illegal blockade by the Trump administration is inflicting heavy costs and reversing Cuba’s unique development gains.

A true internationalist

Castro was a true internationalist leader of the proletariat and stood by freedom fighters, especially in Africa. At a rally of approximately 1 million Cubans in 1962, Fidel Castro presented the Second Declaration of Havana, a call to revolutionary action to anti-imperialist and working-class fighters internationally. Castro often reiterated, the Cuban people’s internationalist aid to liberation struggles was “paying our debt to humanity.”

Castro sent his first batch of military support to Algerian President Ben Bellah in 1963. Castro’s Cuba trained the revolutionaries in Angola, Guinea-Bissau, Namibia, Democratic Republic of Congo and Cape Verde and fought with them against the colonial rule. Castro branded apartheid “a creation of Western capitalism and imperialism”, and his Cuba helped bring down the system of apartheid in South Africa by providing resources and training to African National Congress (ANC) fighters.

Despite the hardship illegally imposed on it by the US, Cuba always stood by the world’s oppressed and hapless people. In 1960, Cuba joined the relief effort after the Chilean earthquake. In 1963, it sent health-care workers to assist the newly independent state of Algeria.

Castro’s Cuba has been despatching cadres of health-care professionals all over the world to combat disasters and epidemics. Cuban doctors were on the scene in Haiti during the cholera outbreak that followed the 2010 earthquake; they arrived in west Africa during the 2013–16 Ebola crisis. And when COVID-19 spread to Europe, two Cuban health professional teams landed in Italy. By the end of April, 2020, more than 1000 Cuban health-care workers were helping foreign countries respond to COVID-19.

Castro conceptualised and implemented an inclusive model of healthcare that brought doctors to the people. He extended Cuban medical aid to other countries, demonstrating the essentially internationalist and human nature of the Cuban Revolution.

Clare Wenham, assistant professor of global health policy at the London School of Economics and Political Science observed, “The international health programme is about solidarity; Cuba believes that healthy populations are the bedrock of global society and they want to support that any way they can”.

Mandela and Castro

Like many revolutionaries and freedom fighters in the Global South, Nelson Mandela was inspired by the Cuban Revolution’s triumph in 1959. Charged with the task of starting a guerrilla army in 1961, Mandela looked to the writings of Cuban Communists for guidance.

Mandela visited Cuba in 1991 to express his gratitude to Castro, calling Castro’s Revolution “a source of inspiration to all freedom-loving people”. Mandela further added, “We admire the sacrifices of the Cuban people in maintaining their independence and sovereignty in the face of a vicious, imperialist-orchestrated campaign. We, too, want to control our own destiny.”

During a public event in Havana, Mandela asked Castro to visit South Africa. Referring to Castro, Mandela asked, “Who trained our people, who gave us resources, who helped so many of our soldiers, our doctors? … “You have not come to our country – when are you coming?”

Castro attended Mandela’s presidential inauguration in May 1994. Barbara Masekela, South Africa’s former ambassador to the US and who accompanied Mandela to Cuba in 1991, said Mandela’s friendship with Castro had been “born in the trenches of the freedom struggle”.

A true friend of the oppressed

Norberto Fuentes, a writer once close to Castro and now living in exile, believes the Cuban leader’s relevance is as “the spokesman for silence, for the man who has no army, no Congress, no face. The man who has nothing”.

Thousands of Cuban internationalists contributed to decisive battles for independence of African countries, while fostering cooperation in the fields of health, education, and training.

Despite hardships due to the US’s illegal blockade, Castro’s Cuba has remained a shining example of internationalism and holds a special place in the history of people’s struggles against imperialism.

Anis Chowdhury, Emeritus Professor, Western Sydney University (Australia). He held senior UN positions in Bangkok and New York and served as Special Assistant to the Chief Advisor for Finance (with the status and rank of State Minister) in the Professor Yunus-led Interim Government. E-mail: anis.z.chowdhury@gmail.com; a.chowdhury@westernsydney.edu.au

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A poster depicting Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu as wanted by the International Criminal Court is displayed in a corridor of the European Parliament in Brussels, June 2026. Credit: Frédéric Pétry/HansLucas via AFP

By Andrew Firmin
LONDON, Aug 17 2026 (IPS)

In a recent Wall Street Journal piece, US Secretary of State Marco Rubio pledged to ‘dismantle’ the International Criminal Court (ICC). The Trump administration intends to pressure states into quitting the court, threatening sanctions, travel bans, visa restrictions and ‘increased scrutiny’ of states that receive its funding. At stake is the court’s ability to stand with victims of the gravest of human rights crimes.

Challenging impunity

Established in 2002 following years of civil society advocacy, the ICC prosecutes atrocities, including crimes against humanity, genocide and war crimes, when national or regional courts can’t or won’t. It prosecutes individuals, and national leaders enjoy no immunity. It has secured several convictions, including of warlords from the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Mali and Rwanda. Among ongoing cases, former Philippines president Rodrigo Duterte awaits trial on crimes against humanity charges. Civil society plays a key role in collecting evidence. Filipino women-led groups, for example, have documented thousands of extrajudicial killings.

The court has 125 members, but the USA is among several powerful states, including China, India, Israel and Russia, that have never joined. US hostility intensified in 2020, when the ICC opened an investigation into crimes against humanity and war crimes in Afghanistan, including those committed by US forces.

A current US campaign could merit the court’s attention. In the Caribbean Sea and eastern Pacific Ocean, the US military is bombing boats it claims are being used by drug cartels to smuggle fentanyl and other illicit substances. It started the strikes as a way of building pressure on then Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro, but has continued after US forces invaded Venezuela and abducted him, now seemingly with the purpose of communicating US strength and contempt for international rules.

US forces have killed over 200 people. All are civilians, leaving little doubt the strikes are illegal under international law. Last October, a group of UN human rights experts concluded that the strikes amount to extrajudicial executions. UN human rights chief Volker Türk called for an investigation, saying he believed the campaign violated international law. The USA responded by lining up with Israel, North Korea and Russia to oppose Türk’s second term.

The victims include nationals of Colombia, St Lucia and Trinidad and Tobago, all ICC members. The ICC could investigate any strikes carried out in member states’ territorial waters or against vessels registered with them.

Defending Netanyahu

Donald Trump is also determined to defend his prize ally, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. He’s said as much, undermining Rubio’s lofty rhetoric about sovereignty. In November 2024, the ICC issued arrest warrants for crimes against humanity and war crimes against Netanyahu, former defence minister Yoav Gallant and Hamas commander Mohammed Deif, later confirmed to have been killed by Israel. Israel doesn’t recognise the court, but the warrants stand because Palestine does.

Netanyahu’s warrant is back in the headlines because he’s due to visit New York for the annual high-level opening of the UN General Assembly in September. Mayor Zohran Mamdani has called for his arrest, but the Trump administration has confirmed it will ignore the warrant. This may have fuelled the latest offensive, which goes further than the Trump administration’s 2025 decision to impose sanctions on nine ICC judges and officials. Early in his second presidency, Trump issued an executive order that declared a ‘national emergency’, arguing the court was a threat to the USA and Israel, and pledging sanctions against anyone who takes part in its investigations. The order was used to impose sanctions on Francesca Albanese, the UN Special Rapporteur on the Occupied Palestinian Territories.

Fearing criminalisation, US-based organisations may feel pressured to end cooperation with the ICC. Last year, two US-based civil society organisations pulled out of the ICC’s annual meeting. Civil society is however fighting back. In July, two US groups filed a lawsuit against the Trump administration, arguing the sanctions violate constitutional free speech protections.

International system under attack

The Trump administration’s attack on the ICC is part of its broader assault on the international system, and particularly its human rights functions. It’s withdrawing from some bodies, defunding others, trying to bend others to its will, forming alternatives it controls, such as the Board of Peace, and showing outright hostility towards those seen to stand in its way.

The USA isn’t the only one. Three military-run Sahel allies – Burkina Faso, Mali and Niger – have begun their withdrawal from the ICC, a process that takes a year. They previously quit the Economic Community of West African States, including its Community Court of Justice, leaving victims of human rights atrocities amid jihadist insurgency with no international routes to justice.

Venezuela set the same course under Maduro. Last December, parliament voted to repeal the law ratifying the Rome Statute, the treaty through which states accept the court’s jurisdiction. That path hasn’t changed under US-compliant Interim President Delcy Rodriguez, whose government recently declared its withdrawal ‘irrevocable’. The US government has welcomed the decision, which will deny justice both to victims of Maduro’s repression and the families of Venezuelans killed in boat strikes.

Others have rallied to the court’s defence. A European Union spokesperson said the bloc ‘stands firm’ behind it. Hungary, which under right-wing nationalist Viktor Orbán had committed to pulling out, reversed that decision under its new government.

Time to rally round

The court faces this onslaught while leaderless. On 24 July, member states voted to remove chief prosecutor Karim Khan following disciplinary proceedings triggered by a sexual abuse complaint from a former staff member. It’s vital that his replacement be a strong and independent leader who can continue the court’s work.

The ICC is under attack by the Trump administration because of its promise to hold the powerful to account. Its member states must defend the principle that no one is above the law by refusing to bow to US pressure.

Andrew Firmin is CIVICUS Editor-in-Chief, co-director and writer for CIVICUS Lens and co-author of the State of Civil Society Report.

For interviews or more information, please contact research@civicus.org

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Zambia’s Green Revolution campaign generated stagnant productivity and rising hunger. Credit: Timothy A. Wise

By Timothy A. Wise and Jomo Kwame Sundaram
CAMBRIDGE, MA, USA / KUALA LUMPUR, Malaysia, Aug 17 2026 (IPS)

As AGRA turns 20, a new report exposes its worsening failure to double productivity and incomes and halve undernourishment in participating African nations as promised.

AGRA still failing Africa’s farmers
The Alliance for a Green Revolution in Africa, now known simply as AGRA, was established in 2006.

Timothy A. Wise

After considerable evidence of failure became apparent, it abandoned its original ambitious goals in 2022, adopting AGRA 3.0, focusing on food systems and policy reforms.

It also ‘rebranded’ by changing its name to AGRA, removing its explicit association with the much criticised Green Revolution. Wise’s 2020 assessment of AGRA up to 2018 found progress on its own declared goals quite modest and uneven.

Wise’s latest review finds even slower productivity growth and worsening hunger under AGRA compared to before 2006. Its improved seeds and fertilizer promotion did not even achieve sustainable intensification, i.e., growing much more food on the same land.

Dubious progress
Increased food production and sales were supposed to reduce rural poverty and food insecurity.

Jomo Kwame Sundaram

High-yielding seeds and related agrochemicals were not widely adopted by most smallholders except when heavily subsidised.

But subsidies have encouraged planting favoured crops on new farmland. Modest yield growth often failed to cover the costs of more expensive inputs, leaving farmers in debt.

Meanwhile, cultivation and yields of millet, a nutritious climate-resilient staple, has declined over the last two decades.

Instead of halving the number of hungry, undernourishment has risen by 58% in participating countries since 2006. Tragically, the number of hungry in the 13 AGRA countries nearly doubled over the last six years!

AGRA unmonitored
The African Union was induced to support AGRA by encouraging more government investments in food agriculture. In 2006, it launched the Comprehensive African Agricultural Development Program (CAADP).

Despite generous Green Revolution subsidies in Malawi, hunger continues to rise. Credit: Timothy A. Wise

CAADP called for dramatically raising government spending on agriculture to 10% of government budgets. However, most governments failed to provide the required funding.

But many governments, particularly in AGRA countries, have spent large shares of their scarce public resources on agriculture. Many have invested in Green Revolution programmes.

Despite setting similar productivity, income, and hunger objectives, by 2025, no country met CAADP’s targets according to its rigorous biennial progress reports using more benchmarks.

High-yielding seeds and related agrochemicals were not widely adopted by most smallholders except when heavily subsidised.

AGRA’s main initiatives, involving input markets and industrial farming, are too costly for most small-scale farmers, benefiting wealthier farmers more.

For Wise, the poor outcomes are not solely or even primarily due to AGRA. Instead, he blames the Green Revolution approach, previously strongly supported by private foundations and now by the World Bank Group.

In contrast, Senegal, not one of the AGRA 13, has succeeded in halving hunger, with more diversified policies supporting a wider range of crops and farming methods.

What failure?
AGRA has never reported actual progress against its original goals of doubling productivity and incomes while halving hunger for 30 million farming households.

With fewer measurable goals, progress reports now focus on the number of commercial seeds produced, private financing generated, and enterprises launched.

Instead, AGRA claimed, “we directly reached 11 million farmers and indirectly reached 26 million farmers. This achievement significantly outstripped our initial targets to reach 30 million smallholder households.”

‘Reaching’ 37 million farmers, mostly ‘indirectly’, says little about its actual impacts on farmers. Unsurprisingly, most donors have cut support for AGRA.

Now, AGRA is influencing national and continent-wide policymaking to accelerate agricultural commercialisation. Its new focus on food systems and policies shifts attention as its website now makes little mention of productivity or small-scale farmers.

Whither AGRA?
Yield growth has been slow and uneven, mainly for a few food crops prioritised by AGRA. Those modest yield gains often did not cover the costs of expensive inputs, leaving many farmers in debt.

Increased food production and sales were supposed to reduce rural poverty and hunger. Instead, malnutrition has risen in most AGRA countries, as dietary diversity has declined with crop diversity.

Asia’s Green Revolution offered far more support to farmers than Africa’s, although its achievements have been more mixed than typically claimed. Africa’s Green Revolution has offered much less, mainly improved commercial seeds.

AGRA still denies the failure of its earlier policies. Instead, it now pays lip service to low-input approaches including agroecology.

In 2025, AGRA president Agnes Kalibata acknowledged, as she stepped down from her post, “Part of why [AGRA] rebranded was that the Green Revolution ship has sailed. We can’t continue pursuing what’s not working for others.”

After twenty years, AGRA should take heed of that advice.

The Alliance for Food Sovereignty in Africa will release its report, drawing on Wise’s research, on August 24.

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Downpours flood the streets of Dhaka. Credit: Farid Ahmed/ IPS

By Mohammad Zaman
DHAKA, Bangladesh, Aug 13 2026 (IPS)

Dhaka’s recent and recurrent flooding is often treated as a natural disaster, but rain is only the trigger. The deeper causes are political, planning and ecological failure: wetland loss, canal encroachment, unplanned growth, weak enforcement, fragmented institutions and short-term engineering fixes. Dhaka is not drowning because it rains; it is drowning because it has been built as if water had nowhere to go.

Historically, Dhaka was part of a watery landscape of rivers, canals, ponds, floodplains and low-lying retention areas. These were not vacant lands; they were essential drainage infrastructure that stored rainwater, slowed runoff and carried excess water toward surrounding rivers. As the city expanded, this blue-green network was filled, narrowed or severed, leaving drains unable to cope even with moderate rainfall.

Mohammad Zaman

Drains and canals have also deteriorated. Many are clogged with waste, narrowed by illegal structures or disconnected from smaller drains. Box culverts, often promoted as modernisation, have in some places buried waterways rather than restoring them as living drainage corridors. Drainage fails not only because pipes are small, but because the wider hydrological system has been cut apart.

Climate change adds pressure through shorter, heavier and less predictable rainfall, but it should not excuse bad planning. World Bank work on urban flooding in Greater Dhaka has warned that the city already has an adaptation deficit. The real problem is that Dhaka has reduced its own capacity to absorb shocks, treating flooding as a pipe-sizing seasonal issue rather than a citywide water-management challenge.

The consequences appear first in transport paralysis. When major roads in Mirpur, Dhanmondi, Green Road, Motijheel, Shantinagar, Old Dhaka and other areas go underwater, commuters lose hours, public transport stalls and businesses suffer. The cost includes damaged vehicles and inventories, delayed logistics, lost productivity and the daily stress of moving through a city that cannot function after rain.

Flooding also deepens inequality. Low-income residents in informal and low-lying settlements face contaminated water entering their homes, loss of daily income, damaged belongings and higher disease risk. Floodwater mixed with sewage, waste and pollutants increases infections and waterborne illness. The poor pay twice: through greater exposure and weaker access to healthcare, savings and political voice.

The scale of impact shows this is not a seasonal inconvenience. A 2023 GIS and remote-sensing study found that almost 35 percent of Dhaka falls within high or very high waterlogging-vulnerability zones, with slum households disproportionately concentrated there. Recent rainfall confirms the risk: Dhaka recorded 130 millimetres of rain in six hours on 12 July 2024, while another episode brought 196 millimetres in 24 hours in 2025, submerging major roads despite large drainage investments.

Infrastructure spending has not produced resilience. The two Dhaka city corporations reportedly invested more than Tk 262 crore over four years up to 2024 to build 334.19 kilometres of drains, box culverts and related infrastructure, yet large areas still flooded. Planning data show that Dhaka lost 3,440 acres out of 9,556 acres of designated flood-flow zones, retention areas and waterbodies since the 1995 Detailed Area Plan, while central-city waterbodies reportedly fell from 20.57 percent in 1995 to 2.9 percent in 2023. The city is paying to drain water while allowing the systems that make drainage possible to disappear.

This failure is reinforced by institutional fragmentation. Responsibility is divided among Dhaka WASA, the two city corporations, RAJUK, the Bangladesh Water Development Board and others. Each controls part of the problem, but no single body manages the full catchment: drains, canals, retention areas, pumps, river outfalls and land-use control. The result is scattered action followed by renewed flooding.

Weak enforcement makes plans meaningless. Master plans and Detailed Area Plans have identified flood-flow zones, retention ponds and wetlands, yet these areas continue to disappear under housing, roads and commercial development. Encroachment survives because it is profitable, politically protected or administratively tolerated.

Accountability is also weak. Spending is reported, but outcomes are rarely evaluated. Dhaka does not need another narrow drainage project; it needs the political courage to enforce existing plans, recover waterways and protect the remaining wetlands.

The city must treat canals, wetlands, ponds and flood-flow zones as critical public infrastructure. Remaining wetlands should be protected, encroached canals demarcated and recovered, and major waterways restored as open drainage corridors connected to surrounding rivers. Dhaka also needs an integrated flood-management platform with clear authority over land-use approvals, canal recovery, drainage investment, pump operation, solid-waste control and emergency response.

Future planning must also centre vulnerable communities. Informal settlements, low-income neighbourhoods, street vendors, schoolchildren and daily-wage workers face the harshest effects but are rarely treated as planning partners. Community reporting of blocked drains, health warnings, emergency transport plans and compensation for repeated losses should be part of resilience policy. A flood-safe Dhaka requires ecological restoration, institutional discipline and social justice.

Dhaka’s flooding is a warning about planning against nature. The city has tried to engineer its way out of a crisis created by land conversion, institutional weakness and ecological neglect. Until it restores and governs its blue-green network as essential infrastructure, each monsoon will bring the same result: a megacity halted by rain it once knew how to live with. The choice is no longer between development and drainage; it is between protecting people and flooding them in the name of progress.

Dr. Mohammad Zaman is an international development consultant whose work across Asia and Africa focuses on social safeguards, displacement, resettlement and inclusive development. He lives in Vancouver, Canada, and can be reached at: mqzaman.bc@gmail.com

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Exiled Nicaraguans hold a national flag in the Church of San Francisco in San José, Costa Rica, at a service held on 19 April 2026 to commemorate the anniversary of protests in 2018. Credit: Ezequiel Becerra/AFP

By Inés M. Pousadela
MONTEVIDEO, Uruguay, Aug 12 2026 (IPS)

On 19 July, the 47th anniversary of the Sandinista revolution that first brought him to power, Nicaraguan President Daniel Ortega declared that his country would hold ‘no more elections’ so that the opposition could never again try to ‘seize power’. Just like that, he scrapped a presidential vote that had previously been pushed back to 2027, abandoning even the fiction of democratic legitimacy. The move changes little in practice, since no free vote had been possible for years. But it’s still revealing: a government that controls the army, the courts, the electoral machinery and the police, and will still not risk even a stage-managed ballot, is one that has lost confidence in its people.

Civil society dismantled

The abolition of elections is the political capstone of a longer-term project to eliminate every organised space beyond the ruling family’s control. A constitutional overhaul ratified in January 2025 extended Ortega’s term, elevated his wife, Rosario Murillo, from vice-president to ‘co-president’, and handed the couple control over every branch of the state, with their son, Laureano Ortega Murillo, positioned as monarchical heir apparent. Scrapping elections that had already been emptied of any meaning removes the last formal mechanism through which power in Nicaragua might, however unlikely, have changed hands.

Since 2018, the government has shut down over 5,500 civil society organisations, close to 80 per cent of what existed. Its net has encompassed trade unions, women’s groups, universities, independent media and religious bodies, with the Catholic Church a particular target. The legal profession is the latest victim. In early July, some 2,000 lawyers found their licences to practise revoked overnight, without notice or appeal, effectively leaving many Nicaraguans without legal defence.

The Group of Human Rights Experts on Nicaragua, mandated by the UN Human Rights Council, has concluded that the government has weaponised every arm of the state and its abuses amount to crimes against humanity committed as deliberate policy. It has documented chains of command linking the presidency to local officials, and named 54 officials responsible for the repression.

Repression beyond borders

Persecution has forced over 935,000 people, roughly one in eight Nicaraguans, into exile since mass protests in 2018, which security forces suppressed by killing more than 300 people. But exile offers no safety. A 2025 report by the Group of Human Rights Experts shows the regime runs an extensive transnational intelligence and surveillance network using the army, police, foreign service and informal agents to track critics abroad, monitor their communications and threaten their families back home.

For a growing number, surveillance leads to violence. In June 2025, Roberto Samcam, a retired army major turned prominent critic, was shot dead at his home in Costa Rica by an assassin posing as a delivery driver. He was one of at least four exiled opposition figures killed in Central America since 2022. Many more have survived attempts on their lives.

The regime has also stripped hundreds of critics of their nationality, including 222 political prisoners it expelled to the USA in 2023 and 135 it shipped to Guatemala in 2024, and made changes to the Penal Code to prosecute ‘crimes against the state’ committed abroad.

Aware that international bodies offer a route to accountability, the regime is moving to close it off. Having quit the Organization of American States in 2023, Nicaragua withdrew from the UN Human Rights Council and four other multilateral bodies in 2025. Yet some mechanisms do not need its consent. Two months after the government announced it was quitting, the Human Rights Council renewed the Group of Experts’ mandate for a further two years. An Argentine judge, acting under universal jurisdiction, has issued arrest warrants for Ortega, Murillo and other senior officials. The legal instruments exist, but the will to use them is often missing.

Democratic states have supplied little of that will. The USA does not recognise Ortega’s government, yet in September 2025 the Trump administration terminated Temporary Protected Status for Nicaraguans, asserting that the country was now safe for their return, a claim at odds with UN findings. This left thousands exposed to deportation.

Ortega has meanwhile leaned on autocratic friends, with China now his main source of funding and Russia supplying intelligence and security advice and training.

Long-term pressure needed

Ortega will have watched Venezuela closely. In 2024, Nicolás Maduro allowed the holding of an election he was sure he had won in advance, having stopped the main opposition candidate standing, only to see a little-known substitute become the catalyst for years of pent-up discontent. Scrapping elections spares Ortega that danger, at least in the short term.

Over the long term, pressure for the restoration of democracy will depend on the endurance of Nicaraguan civil society, at home and in exile, and on democratic states being willing to hold the regime to account. Neither can be taken for granted. The movement best able to sustain the fight has been driven abroad, where it also faces persecution, and the government best placed to shelter these exiles is busy sending them back home.

Inés M. Pousadela is CIVICUS Head of Research and Analysis, co-director and writer for CIVICUS Lens and co-author of the State of Civil Society Report. She is also a Professor of Comparative Politics at Universidad ORT Uruguay.

For interviews or more information, please contact research@civicus.org

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