A man walks past a sign reading 'unjustly persecuted' featuring journalist José Rubén Zamora, former CICIG lawyer Claudia González and Maya leaders Luis Pacheco and Héctor Chaclan in a Guatemala City, 12 May 2026. Credit: Johan Ordóñez/AFP

By Inés M. Pousadela
MONTEVIDEO, Uruguay, Jul 24 2026 (IPS)

José Rubén Zamora, founder of elPeriódico, Guatemala’s now-defunct leading investigative newspaper, spent 1,295 days in detention before a court granted him house arrest on 12 February. He endured long stretches of solitary confinement in a military jail, held in near-constant darkness and subjected to treatment that six UN experts warned could amount to torture. His offence was simply doing his job. For decades, he exposed the corrupt dealings of Guatemala’s economic and political elites. Prosecutors are still trying to send him back to prison.

Police arrested Zamora in July 2022 on a complaint brought by a former banker who was under investigation for financial crimes, following Zamora’s reporting on corruption under then President Alejandro Giammattei. Within months, elPeriódico had shut down following intimidation of its advertisers and criminalisation of its staff. A court convicted Zamora of money laundering in June 2023, and when an appeals court overturned the conviction, a second case kept him in jail anyway. Courts ordered his release several times, and each time appeals chambers reversed those decisions. The Supreme Court transferred a judge who ruled to free him to a court in another part of Guatemala. At least 10 lawyers who took up his defence were forced to abandon it under pressure. Some were prosecuted and jailed.

In May 2024, the UN Working Group on Arbitrary Detention declared Zamora’s detention arbitrary and retaliatory and recommended his immediate release. It took almost two more years for him to be allowed home. In March, the Supreme Court voided the rulings that had returned him to prison, finding they violated due process. The Constitutional Court heard the prosecution’s latest appeal to send him back to jail in June, but has yet to issue its ruling.

The machinery of impunity

Zamora’s ordeal is no aberration; it’s how captured institutions are designed to work. The Guatemalan state has long been in the hands of what Guatemalans call ‘the pact of the corrupt’, a coalition of business leaders, drug traffickers, military officers and politicians that has captured the justice system to guarantee their own impunity. Anyone who threatens that arrangement risks prosecution on fabricated charges, reinforced by coordinated smear campaign. This includes journalists who investigate corruption, judges and prosecutors who pursue it, and Indigenous, land rights and climate activists who mobilise against its consequences. The aim, as a Guatemalan civil society leader put it, is to instil fear so nobody dares question anything. Over 100 people, including around 50 judges and prosecutors, have fled into exile rather than face trumped-up charges.

Because the justice system serves the corrupt pact rather than the law, any serious attempt to dismantle corruption has required external support. In 2006, the UN and the Guatemalan government agreed to establish the International Commission against Impunity in Guatemala (CICIG). Over 12 years, CICIG and the Public Prosecutor’s Office investigated over 70 complex criminal structures and brought charges against more than 1,540 people, including former presidents, ministers, members of Congress and business figures. This challenged the perception that the powerful were untouchable.

But success sealed its fate. When CICIG investigated sitting president Jimmy Morales in 2017, he moved to destroy it, refusing to renew its mandate and appointing a compliant attorney general, Consuelo Porras. President Giammattei reappointed Porras, who prosecuted or forced out dozens of judges and prosecutors who had worked with CICIG. She turned the Public Prosecutor’s Office into an instrument of persecution while dismissing 74 per cent of the complaints filed with it without investigating them. By the time her term ended in May, over 40 states had sanctioned her and some associates. The institution built to prosecute crime had become the state’s key tool for committing it.

New president, same system

Guatemalans elected Bernardo Arévalo in 2023 with a mandate to dismantle this system, but the system has consistently tried to disable him. His unexpected win – he scraped into the runoff largely because the establishment had not seen him as a serious enough threat to block – triggered what civil society described as an attempted electoral coup, with spurious legal complaints, raids on his party’s headquarters and at least two credible assassination plots. It took 106 days of peaceful resistance led by Indigenous authorities to ensure he was sworn in.

But taking office was not the same as taking power. Arévalo’s party had only 23 of 160 congressional seats, and its legal status was subsequently cancelled by judicial order. Congress blocked the legislative change that would have allowed him to dismiss Porras, and the Supreme Court, 13 of whose judges were selected in 2024 through a process stacked with candidates tied to corruption networks, refused to lift her immunity. Throughout Arévalo’s term, the Public Prosecutor’s Office continued to criminalise dissent and repeatedly tried to strip Arévalo of immunity.

A narrow window

But Porras’s term eventually expired, and his successor, Gabriel García Luna, a career judge with no ties to corruption networks, has moved quickly, dismissing prosecutors linked to Porras and closing the special prosecutor’s office that fabricated cases against Zamora and many others. His arrival offers the first genuine opening in eight years. But it’s a narrow one. Congress remains in opposition hands, and the Constitutional Court, the Comptroller General’s Office and the electoral authority are all due for renewal this year. Corrupt interests are well placed to exploit these processes to entrench their grip.

Much now depends on whether Arévalo throws his political weight behind García Luna’s efforts to rebuild the institution Porras weaponised, and whether the bodies up for renewal can be kept out of the corrupt pact’s hands. The clearest sign of change will come if Zamora and the dozens of others criminalised for exposing corruption and defending rights no longer face prosecution, and instead their persecutors face justice.

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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The Global Nobel Laureates Assembly on Artificial Intelligence and Nuclear War brought together more than 200 of the world’s most authoritative figures on peace and artificial intelligence. Here the 'The Rome Declaration for a Disarmed and Disarming Peace' was signed in the main council chamber in Rome's city hall Campidoglio. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri/INPS Japan

By Ariel F. Dumont
ROME, Jul 24 2026 (IPS)

After two days of debate at an international conference devoted to the challenges of artificial intelligence (AI), nuclear war and global security, Nobel laureates, former heads of state and government, scientists, human rights defenders, religious leaders and representatives of civil society adopted a joint declaration, calling for it to be based on human dignity.

Inspired by Pope Leo XIV’s encyclical Magnifica Humanitas and signed in the halls of the Capitol, Rome’s city hall, this text states that artificial intelligence cannot be left solely to military or commercial interests. It also calls for international cooperation based on human dignity, the development of global AI governance and the continuation of efforts towards nuclear disarmament.

As major powers are investing increasingly substantial sums in the development of AI, participants considered that humanity stands at a genuine crossroads. The choices that will be made will have a decisive impact not only on tomorrow’s geopolitical balances but also on the future and place of human beings in a world where decisions could increasingly be entrusted to artificial intelligence.

This point was highlighted by Rome’s mayor, Roberto Gualtieri, the master of ceremonies of this meeting, organised by the Global Nobel Laureates Assembly on Artificial Intelligence and Nuclear War, who described it as historic.

The declaration, named “The Rome Declaration for a Disarmed and Disarming Peace”, was signed on Thursday, July 16.

For Rome’s mayor, “the crucial issue, both at the global and local levels, is technological development, which must be inspired by fundamental ethical principles: respect for individuals, equality among human beings and democratic responsibility in the name of the common good.”

Gualtieri also stressed that today, more than ever, “the world needs an international coalition capable of promoting a new model of development combining economic growth, social justice, human rights and environmental protection”, thus echoing Pope Leo XIV’s call for “a disarmed and disarming peace”.

A few hours earlier, Agnès Callamard, secretary general of Amnesty International, had warned against the development of autonomous weapons.

“The idea that decisions to kill could be made by machines is repugnant to us.”

Delegates at the Global Nobel Laureates Assembly on Artificial Intelligence and Nuclear War pose during the conference on artificial intelligence held at Borgo Laudato Si’. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri/INPS Japan

According to Callamard, the danger does not lie in an artificial intelligence that would suddenly become conscious but rather in the decision to delegate to it responsibilities that belong exclusively to moral judgement.

“It is not that the machine decides that it will become the boss; it is we who programme these systems,” she explained.

For the head of Amnesty International, the growing integration of AI into military operations represents a major change. These systems can already analyse enormous quantities of data, identify targets and recommend strikes, while gradually reducing the need for human intervention.

Beyond autonomous weapons, the Callamard reminded the world that it must pay close attention to the implications of the progressive integration of AI into what the military calls, in its jargon, the “kill chain”, meaning the process from target identification to the conduct of an operation.

“Even when a human being officially retains the final decision, the growing dependence on automated systems profoundly changes the way military operations are prepared and conducted,” Callamard stated, adding that these technologies rely on immense volumes of data that may themselves be altered.

“Analyses and recommendations can be biased because they are based on data that themselves carry these biases. We must remain attentive to the risks arising from erroneous or discriminatory decisions in contexts where the consequences can be irreversible.”

Another danger: the multiplication of force. Thanks to artificial intelligence, a single operator could simultaneously supervise dozens, or even hundreds, of drones or other autonomous systems, considerably increasing military capabilities.

“These technological developments are taking place within a broader context of strategic competition between states. We are living in a period when many governments are seeking military hegemony,” Callamard concluded.

Beyond military issues, several speakers also insisted on the geopolitical consequences of this technological revolution. Romano Prodi, former president of the European Commission and former Italian prime minister, estimated that the growing rivalry between the United States and China considerably complicates the emergence of genuine international regulation.

In an increasingly fragmented world, Prodi warned, no nation will be able to address alone the challenges linked to artificial intelligence, global security or the control of ever more powerful technologies.

These words anticipated the essence of the final declaration, according to which international cooperation is now an indispensable condition for preventing artificial intelligence from fuelling a new arms race and widening geopolitical fractures.

The discussions also focused on the economic and social consequences of this technological revolution. In the world of work, the sudden arrival of AI is already raising many concerns, particularly regarding the professional future of younger generations and the profound transformation of several professions in the coming years.

The programme brought together a number of leading international figures, including Nobel Peace Prize laureate and former Chief Advisor to Bangladesh Muhammad Yunus; Yoshiyuki Nagaoka, Executive Director of the Office of Public Affairs at Soka Gakkai; Filipino journalist and Nobel Peace Prize laureate Maria Ressa; Amnesty International Secretary General Agnès Callamard; and several scientists and nuclear experts.

Research published by King’s College London shows that a study carried out on hundreds of millions of job advertisements across 39 countries reveals an average 6.1% decline in job offers in professions most exposed to automation, while the remaining positions require increasingly specialised skills.

Ultimately, what will remain of this conference and of the Rome Declaration? The main point to remember is that participants accept the development of artificial intelligence and do not believe it should frighten us. On the contrary, they consider that this technology can become a powerful driver of progress – provided, however, that it remains at the service of humanity. The ball is therefore in the court of states and their leaders, who must above all place human dignity at the forefront.

The real question is no longer only what artificial intelligence will make possible, but rather what limits societies and humanity as a whole will choose to set for it before the imperatives of power permanently override collective responsibility.

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

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CIVICUS discusses land grabs and environmental damage linked to a luxury coastal resort project with Eva Kushova, Director of Destination Management Organisation Albania, a civil society organisation that supports sustainable tourism in Albanian destinations, seeking to preserve culture and nature while maximising benefits for communities.

Eva Kushova

What are the impacts of Albania’s foreign investment laws?

The Law on Strategic Investments was passed in 2015 to attract foreign investment and boost Albania’s economy. Its deadline has since been extended several times, most recently to 2027. In practice, it has become a vehicle for serious abuses. Unlike ordinary investment laws, it gives the state the power to expropriate private property on investors’ behalf, often at compensation well below market value. Some residents say they were forced off their land after refusing this compensation.

Despite the law’s stated purpose, only two of around 44 projects approved so far are genuinely foreign investments. Most are owned by domestic investors with close connections to the government. The system gives selected companies access to public land, beaches, forests and national assets, and grants them tax exemptions for up to 10 years. The state also pays for all the necessary infrastructure, including electricity, roads, telecommunications and water, effectively subsidising private profit. In some cases, water meant for villages has been diverted to supply resort swimming pools. Meanwhile, local communities lose beach access and remain economically marginalised.

What does the Zvërnec case reveal about how these deals are made?

The Zvërnec project, a luxury resort planned on the coast near Vlorë, in southern Albania, comprising around 10,000 accommodation units, drew international attention because of its Trump family ties, but it exposed broader governance failures. It includes a large property allegedly acquired by an internationally wanted drug trafficker under highly questionable circumstances, and there are also allegations that officials manipulated property records at the regional land registry. Many local residents claim ownership of the property, yet it was suddenly recognised as belonging to the trafficker, who then sold it to Arab investors.

This fits a wider pattern in Albania’s land governance. After communism collapsed in 1991, the law mandated redistribution of agricultural land to rural families in small parcels. Thirty-five years on, most Albanians own only limited land, while strategic investors obtain vast coastal properties through questionable transactions, controversial expropriations and alleged manipulation of property records. Property rights have remained unresolved for over 30 years, forcing people into costly court proceedings.

The secrecy around the Zvërnec deal is typical too. The public only learns about the projects once construction machinery arrives on site. News of Zvërnec, and of Sazan Island, an island off Albania’s Adriatic coast earmarked for luxury development, broke via international media in March 2024. Even now, the identity and ownership of the investors behind several of these projects remain unclear, and sites are fenced off with barbed wire. Authorities say this is in preparation for infrastructure works, fuelling further distrust.

What environmental damage have these developments caused?

The Zvërnec coastline is home to the Narta Lagoon, one of Albania’s most biodiverse areas and a critical stopover for thousands of migratory birds travelling between Africa and Europe. It was first threatened by the construction of Vlora International Airport and now by the Zvërnec resort.

The legal groundwork was laid in 2022, when the government removed thousands of hectares from protected areas, cutting total coverage by 20 per cent. In 2024, another law opened the door to construction inside protected areas, allowing for the transformation of one of Albania’s last wild coastal lagoons into a heavily urbanised area. A further law passed in 2025 extended the threat to forests and pastures elsewhere in the country.

This runs counter to Albania’s European Union (EU) membership bid, targeted for 2030. All candidate states must align their laws with EU standards across 33 negotiating chapters before joining, and chapter 27 covers environmental protection. The European Commission’s 2025 Enlargement Report raised serious concerns on this front, criticising recent legal changes for weakening environmental standards. The Bern Convention’s Standing Committee, an international body that protects European wildlife and habitats, has repeatedly asked Albania to suspend construction of Vlora International Airport inside the Pishë Poro–Narta Protected Area, which includes the lagoon, pending proper environmental assessment. So far these requests have gone unheeded. But sustained EU pressure could still force a repeal of regressive laws and the introduction of stronger protection for natural areas.

What has driven recent protests, and how has the government responded?

Protests began on 23 May in Zvërnec after the developer fenced off part of the beach with barbed wire. They intensified after footage emerged on 30 May showing private security guards beating a protester while police stood by without intervening. The movement spread to the capital, Tirana, the next day, then to other Albanian cities, Kosovo and diaspora communities abroad, becoming known as the ‘Flamingo Revolution’. Protesters have marched nightly since under the slogan ‘Albania is not for sale’, demanding the project’s cancellation and Prime Minister Edi Rama’s resignation.

What began as opposition to a single resort has broadened into a wider anti-corruption movement, with protesters citing grievances such as poor public healthcare. A nationwide protest on 10 June deliberately coincided with a national historic commemoration, joined by Albanians from the diaspora on five continents. Yet Rama has stayed defiant, arguing that the backlash has more to do with the Trump links than with the project itself.

There are encouraging signs of accountability, though. The Special Structure against Corruption and Organised Crime, an independent judicial body created in 2016, has opened an investigation into the 2024 legal changes that enabled the Zvërnec deal. Arrest warrants have been issued against around 20 businesspeople suspected of illegally obtaining land or permits linked to various projects. People hope public pressure will keep judicial investigations alive, ensuring accountability for abuses of power, environmental damage and property rights violations.

CIVICUS interviews a wide range of civil society activists, experts and leaders to gather diverse perspectives on civil society action and current issues for publication on its CIVICUS Lens platform. The views expressed in interviews are the interviewees’ and do not necessarily reflect those of CIVICUS. Publication does not imply endorsement of interviewees or the organisations they represent.

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Global Nobel Laureates at the Assembly on Artificial Intelligence and Nuclear War held last week in Rome. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri/INPS Japan.

By Ariel F. Dumont
BORGO LAUDATO SI’, Italy, Jul 21 2026 (IPS)

“I’m sorry, Dave. I’m afraid I can’t do that.” By bringing the supercomputer HAL 9000 to life in his 1968 film 2001: A Space Odyssey, American director Stanley Kubrick created one of the most powerful symbols of the fear of artificial intelligence (AI) escaping human control.

Fifty-eight years later, that question is more relevant than ever. It was precisely this issue that brought together more than 200 international figures for three days of discussions in the exceptional setting of Borgo Laudato Si’, located within the papal summer residence at Castel Gandolfo, where Pope Leo XIV is currently staying.

Organised by the Global Nobel Laureates Assembly on Artificial Intelligence and Nuclear War, the conference set out to reflect on “the future of international security, the governance of emerging technologies, disarmament and the building of an economy of peace”.

Yoshiyuki Nagaoka, Executive Director, Office of Public Affairs at Soka Gakkai. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri/INPS Japan

The programme brought together a number of leading international figures, including former Italian Prime Minister and former President of the European Commission Romano Prodi; Nobel Peace Prize laureate and former Chief Advisor to Bangladesh Muhammad Yunus; Yoshiyuki Nagaoka, Executive Director of the Office of Public Affairs at Soka Gakkai; Filipino journalist and Nobel Peace Prize laureate Maria Ressa; Amnesty International Secretary General Agnès Callamard; and several scientists and nuclear experts.

The assembly was officially opened by Monsignor Fabio Baggio, under-secretary of the Dicastery for Promoting Integral Human Development.

In his welcoming address, he immediately established the central thread of the discussions by stressing that “peace is not simply the absence of war but an order founded on justice, mutual trust, respect for the rule of law and the inviolable dignity of every human being.”

The central idea was clear: regulating artificial intelligence has become imperative if peace – and ultimately humanity’s very survival – is to be preserved. AI is now integrated into military systems, dramatically increasing the risks of proliferation, cyber warfare and high-intensity conflicts, with the potential to undermine global stability and respect for ethical principles.

Although the speakers sometimes differed in their analyses, reflecting their diverse backgrounds, they all converged on one essential conclusion. Artificial intelligence should not be feared, but that certainly does not mean it should be given free rein until it becomes another HAL 9000. On the contrary, most participants stressed the urgent need to establish safeguards before potential abuses become impossible to control.

Karen Hallberg, Argentine physicist and president of the Pugwash Conferences on Science and World Affairs. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri/INPS Japan

This concern was voiced in particular by Karen Hallberg, the Argentine physicist specialising in condensed matter and president of the Pugwash Conferences on Science and World Affairs. AI, she argued, is a “dual-use” technology, much like nuclear energy itself. While nuclear fission has led to extraordinary advances in energy production and medicine, it has also made atomic weapons possible.

“Artificial intelligence has the same ambivalence. It can certainly contribute to scientific research, medicine and even the monitoring of international commitments. However, its integration into nuclear weapons systems could usher in a period of dangerous uncertainty,” she warned.

Hallberg also stressed that one of the greatest risks would be to allow algorithms to intervene in processes related to the command and control of nuclear weapons – for instance, analysing satellite imagery, interpreting military situations or contributing to decisions whose consequences could prove irreversible for the future of humanity.

“I am not afraid; I am concerned. And it is precisely this concern that should give us the determination to act before it is too late,” she said, calling on governments to apply the precautionary principle before technology outpaces political regulation and leads to an irreversible drift.

A concern that Nagaoka shares, albeit from a different perspective, is that artificial intelligence is not inherently dangerous. Everything, he argued, depends on how humanity chooses to use it.

“The question ultimately comes back to humanity itself, which has the choice of becoming either more selfish or more compassionate.”

Nagaoka placed particular emphasis on the responsibility of younger generations, who are growing up in an environment where digital tools occupy an ever greater place and where the risk of isolation continues to increase. Humanity’s greatest challenge, therefore, is not to reject AI but to learn how to use it without abandoning the uniquely human capacity for judgement.

“We must preserve our conscience and our wisdom when making decisions,” he said, reminding participants that education and critical thinking will remain the best safeguards against a technology capable of influencing both individual and collective choices.

“I recently heard on television the story of an 86-year-old Japanese woman faced with the painful decision of ending life support for her seriously ill husband. She chose to seek advice from ChatGPT rather than from her family.”

For Nagaoka, the issue is not to condemn such a choice but rather to reflect on these new forms of dialogue emerging in societies where machines may increasingly become trusted interlocutors at the most important moments of human existence.

This reflection on human responsibility echoed the concerns raised by Maria Ressa, winner of the 2021 Nobel Peace Prize for her defence of freedom of expression and her fight against disinformation.

Peace is not simply the absence of war but an order founded on justice, mutual trust, respect for the rule of law and the inviolable dignity of every human being.
Throughout the discussions, she repeatedly highlighted the risks AI poses to the future of democracy, including the accelerating spread of false information, the large-scale manipulation of public opinion and the concentration of power in the hands of a limited number of technology companies.

“AI is not simply an issue of innovation. It concerns the very functioning of democratic societies,” Ressa insisted.

But it was undoubtedly Yunus who delivered the conference’s most far-reaching criticism by shifting the debate onto economic ground. The Bangladeshi economist, founder of the Grameen Bank and recipient of the 2006 Nobel Peace Prize offered a profoundly humanist critique that challenged the very foundations of AI’s use within contemporary capitalism.

“The main problem is not simply the possible disappearance of certain jobs, but the growing concentration of wealth,” Yunus said.

Artificial intelligence, he warned, risks reinforcing a model in which a handful of companies control technologies, data and income, while an ever larger share of the population is excluded from economic participation.

“It could deprive people of their livelihoods, their dignity and their ability to remain independent,” he argued.

The future, he said, cannot be an economy in which artificial intelligence replaces human beings. Instead, it must be based on participation, entrepreneurship and the sharing of opportunities.

His message to political leaders around the world was unequivocal: AI must not become an instrument for concentrating power but rather a tool placed at the service of everyone.

And now what? At the end of these discussions, one certainty emerges: there can be no turning back. Artificial intelligence is now part of our world. Humanity should not fear it, nor should it regard it as tomorrow’s greatest enemy. But several fundamental questions remain unanswered: Who will control this technology, according to what rules, and in the service of what kind of society?

More than half a century after HAL 9000, the real threat may not be that a machine could become human. It may be that human beings gradually renounce what defines them most: their capacity to decide, to judge and to assume responsibility for their own choices.

IPS UN Bureau Report

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

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United Nations Secretary-General António Guterres addresses the opening session of the Global Dialogue on AI Governance, Geneva, Switzerland. Credit: UN Photo/Irina Popa

By Oritro Karim
UNITED NATIONS, Jul 20 2026 (IPS)

Throughout July 2026, various United Nations (UN) bodies and global experts have underscored the need for increased comprehensive artificial intelligence (AI) governance. Although AI yields significant potential gains for global development, persistent structural barriers continue to impede equitable access and deepen the digital divide.

From July 6 to 7, the UN convened the first session of the Global Dialogue on AI Governance, featuring a presentation of the inaugural report of the Independent International Scientific Panel on AI. The conference included testimonies from global experts and leaders who emphasized the rapidly accelerating nature of AI, warning that without adequate guardrails and transparency measures, entire communities risk falling behind.

“Artificial intelligence is advancing at runaway speed. A technology that can reshape economies, transform the world of work, sway elections and tilt the balance of security is being deployed faster than anyone— including the people building it— can keep up,” said UN Secretary-General Antonio Guterres at the Opening Session of the dialogue on July 6th.

“The technologies we trust most— in aviation, in medicine, in nuclear energy and beyond— earned that trust because we acted to hold their makers to account. If AI is to be powerful, it must be governed. If AI is to be trusted, those who build it must be accountable. If AI is to be global, it must be fair. And if AI is to serve the future, it must not consume the future,” he added.

According to Guterres, AI holds immense potential to accelerate medical advancements, revolutionize educational systems, strengthen food production, and revitalize local economies, all of which would drive progress toward the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs). Despite this, widening gaps in development have been recorded across communities in lower-income countries, particularly in the Global South.

On July 17, Guterres spoke at the World AI Conference (WAIC) in Shanghai, urging governments and stakeholders to invest in international cooperation and monitoring efforts to ensure equitable access to AI’s benefits. Guterres noted that an alarming “one-third of humanity” remains offline, with the vast majority of technical expertise and investment disproportionately concentrated in only a few countries and companies

“Hundreds of billions of dollars of private investment flood into artificial intelligence – while many developing countries receive just a trickle,” said Guterres. “AI risks pushing the world towards even greater inequalities … greater divides in income, in opportunity, in security … greater gaps between North and South.”

At WAIC, Guterres outlined three main priorities that are to be taken in advancing global AI governance: making AI more environmentally sustainable, establishing critical safety guardrails, and expanding capacity across developing countries. Underscoring the need for AI testing and risk management to be firmly based in the principles of international law, he confirmed that over 20 countries, including China, have agreed to contribute to a UN-supported Global Network for Exchange and Cooperation on AI Capacity Building to assist developing countries navigate this transition.

Throughout the conference, many UN experts emphasized that human rights must remain the cornerstone of all AI decision-making processes, ensuring that final judgments are always made by human beings. Guterres also called for major AI companies to disclose their environmental footprints and commit to a full transition to renewable energy by 2030.

AI has the potential to accelerate the transition from fossil fuels to renewable energy by optimizing power efficiency and significantly reducing waste. Several nations, including China, are already leveraging these technologies to increase their annual reliance on renewable energy.

Several developing countries in the Pacific have taken steps to reclaim agency over AI, implementing frameworks that prioritize sustainability and ensure that they remain in control regarding the technology’s development and use. For example, the Kingdom of Tonga has expanded commercial 5G access and conducted a Digital Readiness Assessment to examine risks and potential gains when coordinating governance strategies. Similar assessments have been undertaken across Samoa, Vanuatu, and Fiji.

The Kingdom of Tonga is reshaping its government services around a digital-first model by implementing AI tools that will assist citizens in interacting with the state in their own language. In Kiribati, AI monitoring technologies in fisheries have helped in recovering approximately US$2 million in illegal fishing fines.

“These are real wins, but they are wins within a system the Pacific did not design. The region already knows what it means to be on the wrong side of a divergence, in climate, in trade, in debt vulnerability,” said Kanni Wignaraja, UN Assistant Secretary-General and UNDP Regional Director for Asia and the Pacific.

“AI follows the same logic at greater speed. The difference is that the rules of AI are still being written, which means the divergence is not yet locked in. That window will not stay open for long. The time for the Pacific to shape the outcome is now, not once the frameworks are agreed, and the tools are already being deployed.”

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Delegates at the 11th Annual Global Conference on Energy Efficiency, organised by the International Energy Agency (IEA). Credit: Umar Manzoor Shah/IPS

By Umar Manzoor Shah
SRINAGAR, India, Jul 20 2026 (IPS)

As geopolitical tensions, rising electricity demand and climate pressures reshape the global energy landscape, more than 600 energy ministers, chief executives, financial leaders and policy experts gathered in Montreal, deliberating upon how to deliver at an unprecedented scale.

The 11th Annual Global Conference on Energy Efficiency, organised by the International Energy Agency (IEA) on July 7, focused on transforming a global commitment into practical action. Delegates sought ways to meet an ambitious international target of doubling the annual rate of energy efficiency improvements by 2030, a goal widely viewed as essential for strengthening energy security while cutting greenhouse gas emissions.

Speaking during the conference, IEA Executive Director Fatih Birol described energy efficiency as the world’s “first fuel”, calling it the fastest, cheapest and cleanest resource available to countries seeking greater resilience amid growing uncertainty.

Birol reminded delegates that the global energy system has experienced only three major disruptions in recent decades. The oil crises of 1973 and 1979 fundamentally reshaped global energy policy. More recently, the supply chain disruptions following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine exposed the vulnerability of international energy markets.

Against that backdrop, he argued, improving efficiency is no longer simply an environmental objective but a matter of national security and economic stability. Growing geopolitical risks around strategic shipping routes, including the Strait of Hormuz, reinforce the urgency of reducing dependence on volatile energy supplies.

“We are in an age of rapid technological change,” Birol said, urging governments and industries to move beyond declarations and begin implementing large-scale solutions.

Throughout the two-day conference, participants repeatedly emphasised that technology alone will not deliver the transformation. Success, they said, depends on closer cooperation between governments, investors and private industry.

One of the conference’s central outcomes was the launch of the Montreal Collaboration Framework, an initiative designed to strengthen coordination between policymakers, financial institutions and businesses. The framework aims to overcome one of the biggest barriers facing energy efficiency projects, fragmented decision-making that often prevents otherwise viable investments from moving forward.

Executives participating in CEO roundtables acknowledged that many companies continue to pursue isolated efficiency upgrades that deliver only modest savings. Such projects frequently fail to attract significant investment because their financial returns appear too limited when evaluated individually.

Industry leaders instead advocated bundling multiple efficiency improvements into larger investment packages.

Rather than replacing a single motor or upgrading one heating system, companies can combine electricity savings, industrial heat recovery, cooling improvements and digital monitoring into integrated projects that generate stronger financial returns and attract institutional financing.

Another recurring theme was the growing importance of data.

Representatives from major industrial technology companies including Schneider Electric and Danfoss argued that many businesses still rely on broad estimates of their energy consumption instead of detailed operational information.

Without precise data, they warned, companies struggle to identify where the greatest efficiency gains can be achieved.

Delegates highlighted artificial intelligence, predictive analytics and digital monitoring systems as increasingly important tools for optimising industrial operations, reducing waste and lowering operating costs.

Representatives from Deutsche Bank argued that traditional investment decisions remain too heavily focused on initial capital expenditure. Instead, investors should assess projects through the lens of total cost of ownership, accounting for decades of lower energy bills, maintenance savings and reduced operational risks.

Such an approach, participants said, makes many efficiency investments substantially more attractive than they initially appear.

The conference also examined one of the energy transition’s newest challenges.

Rapid growth in artificial intelligence and digital services is driving an unprecedented expansion of data centres, creating soaring electricity demand worldwide.

Rather than viewing AI solely as a source of higher consumption, delegates argued that technological innovation can help solve its own energy challenge.

Companies showcased advanced cooling technologies, including liquid cooling and evaporative systems, capable of dramatically reducing the electricity needed to maintain modern data centres.

These innovations, participants said, demonstrate that rising digital demand does not necessarily have to translate into proportionally higher energy consumption.

Beyond technology and finance, speakers repeatedly stressed that energy efficiency must also serve broader social goals.

Yasmin Abraham, representing the Kambo Energy Group, reminded delegates that low-income communities often experience the highest energy costs while having the fewest resources to improve efficiency.

“Communities know the challenge,” she said. “Communities are closest to that challenge but furthest from the resources.”

Governments, she argued, must ensure that efficiency programmes reach vulnerable households rather than benefiting only wealthier consumers and large corporations.

Canada used the conference to announce an expansion of its Canada Greener Homes Affordability Program, which will provide energy efficiency retrofits to approximately 35,000 low- and middle-income households without upfront costs.

Officials described the initiative as an example of how public policy can reduce emissions while improving affordability and living conditions for ordinary families.

Despite widespread optimism, delegates acknowledged that achieving the 2030 efficiency target remains a formidable challenge.

Global energy demand continues to grow as economies expand, industries electrify and artificial intelligence accelerates electricity consumption. Meeting climate commitments while ensuring affordable and reliable energy will require unprecedented coordination across governments, financial institutions and private industry.

Still, the prevailing mood in Montreal remained pragmatic rather than pessimistic.

Participants agreed that the technical solutions largely exist. What has often been missing is coordinated implementation, sufficient investment and political determination.

By the conference’s conclusion, delegates appeared united around a common conviction that energy efficiency should no longer be treated as a secondary climate policy but as the foundation of future energy systems.

“With the launch of the Montreal Collaboration Framework and renewed commitments from governments, industry and financial institutions, the conference sought to transform efficiency from an often overlooked policy objective into the central pillar of global energy security, economic competitiveness and climate action,” Abraham said.

IPS UN Bureau Report

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People collect signatures against the construction of a massive Mitsui Fudosan datacentre in Hino City, Tokyo, 19 April 2026. Credit: Yasushi Wada/The Yomiuri Shimbun via AFP

By Andrew Firmin
LONDON, Jul 20 2026 (IPS)

Few things unite Donald Trump’s most ardent supporters with the Democratic Party’s progressive wing, but datacentres are one of them. Across the USA, communities are joining forces across the political divide to oppose developments few want but governments seem determined to impose.

Michigan residents are among those who’ve come together across party lines to oppose plans for over a dozen datacentres. Polling shows just 28 per cent of the state’s population support the proposals. Local communities are fighting back, and similar struggles are unfolding across the world.

Datacentre impacts

Datacentre construction is booming, driven by AI use, demanding increasing computing power that requires huge amounts of electricity and water for cooling.

A single question to an AI chatbot can use 10 times more energy than a conventional search. Generating an AI image takes around a thousand times more energy than generating text. The International Energy Agency (IEA) projects that datacentre electricity demand will double by 2030.

In Utah, despite thousands of objections, authorities recently approved one of the world’s largest datacentres. It will need more power than the entire state currently uses. The development will construct a gas-fired plant.

AI growth is driving the construction of such gas-powered plants, meaning that more datacentres cause more greenhouse gas emissions. According to the IEA, coal is currently the top energy source for datacentres and over half of all current datacentre power comes from fossil fuels. The agency expects renewables to eventually provide a bigger share of growing needs, but warns that datacentre demand is driving growth for fossil fuel-generated electricity.

Tech companies once pledged to be climate leaders, but that no longer rings true. Google promised to become net zero by 2030, but its greenhouse gas emissions leapt 48 per cent from 2019 to 2023 as it embraced gas-fired electricity for datacentres. In Mumbai, India, two coal plants due to close in 2024 have had their operational life extended to meet demand from Amazon datacentres. Last December, Irish authorities decided that datacentres can keep using fossil fuel electricity for six more years. The UK intends to burn gas to power over 100 planned new datacentres.

Fossil fuel corporations lobby for datacentres almost as hard as tech companies, because they help perpetuate a destructive business model otherwise threatened by the shift to renewables. Fossil fuel corporations were among Donald Trump’s top campaign backers, and they’re benefiting from his administration’s rollback of regulations and ambition to achieve ‘unchallenged global technological dominance’.

Water supplies are coming under greater strain. One large datacentre can use as much daily water as a town of 50,000 people, yet datacentres are being built in some of the world’s driest regions. Amazon plans to open new datacentres in Aragon, Spain, even as the regional government seeks European Union help for drought. Similar concerns surround plans for one of the world’s biggest datacentres in the United Arab Emirates.

Civil society resistance

The struggle against tech companies and their lobbying riches is an unequal one, but civil society is mounting an increasingly credible response.

Climate litigation is an established civil society tactic, and recent research indicates that lawsuits are an emerging response to datacentre developments, with recent examples in Ireland, the UK and the USA. Civil society groups are also filing objections in planning processes, including one recently lodged against a huge proposed datacentre in Cape Town, South Africa.

Legal action by two UK organisations forced the developer of a huge new datacentre in Buckinghamshire to commit to binding environmental impact mitigation measures. Lawsuits are also exposing how datacentre impacts are often understated and inadequately measured. A 2022 case forced Google to publish accurate water consumption figures for an Oregon datacentre.

Protests and campaigning are bringing successes. In 2023, protests driven by a recent drought forced Google to change plans for a datacentre to reduce water use in Uruguay. Similar protests in Chile caused Google to pause its plans. As of last year, public pressure had led to over US$42 billion worth of datacentre projects being changed, delayed or cancelled in Europe, and US$77 billion worth in the USA.

In the USA, civil society groups have forged alliances with sub-national administrations to develop stronger local environmental and accountability standards. While established politicians aren’t listening, there are signs that US local politics are shifting. Some candidates opposed to datacentres have won, and several local administrations have introduced bans or moratoriums.

Campaign successes are bringing new threats. US industry lobbyists have smeared activists as agents of foreign influence determined to sabotage the country’s technological supremacy. US government documents show a growing focus on what they call ‘anti-technological extremism’, suggesting that security forces may be gathering intelligence on campaigners, and peaceful protesters could be targeted for surveillance on national security grounds.

Tech companies that are driving datacentre development often present themselves as free speech champions. They should prove it by ensuring that wherever they develop, people are able to protest, and hold them to environmental standards. There’s widespread public opposition and no shortage of people bearing the climate and environmental costs of the datacentre boom. Their voices must be heard.

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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CIVICUS discusses the prospects for elections in Serbia with Rasa Nedeljkov, Programme Director at the Center for Research, Transparency and Accountability, a civil society organisation that monitors electoral processes and the rule of law in Serbia.

Rasa Nedeljkov

How has President Vučić responded to demands for elections?

Vučić committed to holding early elections in 2026 under pressure from over a year of mass protests. His announcement came with no date for dissolving parliament or his resignation, amid speculation that he could return as prime minister.

Vučić has deliberately dragged his feet because he wants to ensure that when they happen, his party cannot lose. Meanwhile, the government has systematically worsened conditions for elections. Independent media are being suffocated. University professors who supported student protests are being fired. Justice officials who show independence are being replaced by more obedient ones. Hate campaigns against civil society, journalists, opposition parties and students are intensifying. The plan has been transparent: call elections only once the environment is so controlled that they cannot bring real change.

This strategy reveals the fundamental collapse of democratic standards in Serbia. Democracy requires genuine competition, and competition is genuine only when the government can lose. Vučić is building the opposite, putting in place a system where elections are empty rituals that rubber-stamp predetermined outcomes. Every month of delay has bought time to consolidate control and eliminate remaining spaces for independent voices.

What are the challenges with elections in Serbia?

Elections are being voided of substance through the systematic disregard, misuse and selective enforcement of laws and rules, all with the goal of turning elections into empty rituals.

We are witnessing harsher voter intimidation, more elaborate political clientelism, more brazen abuse of public resources and increasingly overt violence on election day. Our observers have been physically attacked, with police looking on.

Elections are still held, but the quality of the process is severely damaged. Electoral corruption takes countless forms, including interference in elections by organised crime and capture of institutions. And it’s protected by impunity. The state apparatus refuses to prosecute it.

Serbia is becoming an electoral autocracy. Unlike democracies, where governments lose elections, in electoral autocracies only opposition parties can lose.

How is the government attacking civil society?

Fourteen months ago, police raided our office and remained on-site for 28 hours, copying almost 10,000 pages of financial documents. This was turned into a spectacle for state-controlled media, which branded us a ‘criminal gang of foreign mercenaries money-laundering millions of dollars’. Three other civil society organisations in Belgrade were raided on the same day. We still haven’t heard from the prosecutor’s office, and we are certain our papers were perfectly clean.

Yet the assault continues through narrative and threat. Senior ruling party officials and pro-government media regularly label us as behind-the-scenes organisers of a ‘colour revolution against Serbia’. We live in constant uncertainty, never knowing if another raid or something worse is coming. The strategy is clear: to exhaust civil society financially and psychologically and make donors and partners fear any association with us. It’s institutional intimidation dressed in the language of law enforcement.

Can protests bring lasting institutional change?

The protests are the best thing that has happened to Serbia in a long time. Sparked by the collapse of a railway station canopy in Novi Sad in November 2024, which killed 16 people, they began as a student-led demand for accountability and grew into a nationwide movement. Our society had sunk into political apathy, a feeling that there was no alternative, not even a slight possibility of change. The endurance of Serbian people in demanding the restoration of the rule of law, in the face of growing repression and toxic propaganda, has been remarkable. Society has been evolving politically, showing more solidarity and resilience. People have begun to imagine that change is possible.

At the same time, the protests have made painfully visible how deep state capture runs, and how far Serbia is from having accountable institutions. How do you translate months of mobilisation into lasting change? Nobody has a complete answer. When we get there, the transition will be complex and exhausting. We should closely watch neighbouring Hungary. Viktor Orbán’s and Vučić’s styles of authoritarian, grand-corruption-driven rule are very much alike. However, Hungary is an EU member, which may make a big difference.

We believe it’s important that this period, rather than the moment elections are officially called, be used for preparation, including by recruiting and training people to serve as election observers and members of polling boards, and building the logistics needed to cover polling stations nationwide. The goal has to be readiness, so whenever elections are called, the infrastructure of oversight is already in place.

What’s the role of the EU in Serbia’s democratic future?

Serbia needs more international support and pressure, and the EU is the most crucial lever. Neighbouring countries are making progress towards EU membership. Serbia is stuck. Without the EU perspective, all potential outcomes for Serbia look murky.

Our current government is far closer to China and Russia than to Europe, as its propaganda and rhetoric make abundantly clear. It wants only the financial benefits of EU membership, not the accountability that comes with it. It wants EU money without EU standards. That’s not a sustainable position, but without stronger international pressure, it may be the path Serbia remains on.

CIVICUS interviews a wide range of civil society activists, experts and leaders to gather diverse perspectives on civil society action and current issues for publication on its CIVICUS Lens platform. The views expressed in interviews are the interviewees’ and do not necessarily reflect those of CIVICUS. Publication does not imply endorsement of interviewees or the organisations they represent.

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Serbia: ‘Social media are more trustworthy than much of official media, a disturbing sign of state capture’ CIVICUS Lens | Interview with Marija Babić 29.Jun.2026
Serbia: ‘We haven’t inherited democracy, so we’ve had to reinvent it ourselves’ CIVICUS Lens | Interview with Mihajlo Matković 06.Dec.2025
Serbia’s suspicious election CIVICUS Lens 26.Jan.2024

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An Indigenous community leader, Jackeline Mendoza Díaz, addresses participants during the webinar “Gold’s Dark Web: The Hidden Price of a Booming Market” on June 25, speaking about the devastating impacts of illegal and poorly regulated gold mining on Indigenous lands, forests and local communities. The webinar brought together community leaders, investigators, civil society organisations, financial experts and policymakers to discuss how soaring gold prices are accelerating environmental destruction, organised crime and human rights abuses. Credit: FERN

By Kizito Makoye
DAR ES SALAAM, Tanzania, Jul 17 2026 (IPS)

The sweltering heat inside a London conference hall did not deter Indigenous leader Jackeline Mendoza Díaz from condemning the sheer destruction of the Peruvian Amazon. Her voice occasionally trembled with emotion but delivered a strong message — painting a picture far removed from the glittering gold bars traded in the world’s financial capitals.

Behind the rising price of gold, she said, lie poisoned rivers, razed forests and Indigenous communities jostling to defend their ancestral lands from the rising wave of illegal mining.

In her Asháninka community, she said, rivers that once sustained life no longer provide edible fish. Women trek for hours searching for clean water, while community leaders who speak out against encroachment increasingly do so at personal risk.

“Our rivers are being contaminated with mercury. When the rivers are contaminated, the fish become contaminated as well, and we indigenous people depend on these rivers for our survival,” Díaz told participants during a webinar that brought together Indigenous leaders, environmental advocates, investigators, bankers and policymakers to discuss the growing crisis of illicit gold.

Her testimony offered a glimpse into a global phenomenon that experts say is accelerating, as gold prices fuel environmental destruction, organized crime and corruption across continents

Behind the soaring value of gold lies a darker reality, visible in remote forests, fragile river systems and marginalised communities globally.

A recent report by the Global Initiative Against Transnational Organised Crime (GI-TOC) warns that illicit gold has become one of the world’s most consequential criminal markets, functioning as an “accelerant economy” that fuels conflict, corruption, environmental crime and organised criminal networks worldwide.

The report says rising gold prices have enabled criminals to control entire supply chains.

For nearby communities, the consequences are dire.

“We are defenders of the forests and defenders of life. Yet because of this, Indigenous defenders are often attacked, and many of us are even killed for protecting our people, our territories and our way of life,” said Diaz.

Forests Falling, Rivers Dying

In Ghana, where illegal mining has become a national crisis, environmental campaigner Daryl Bosu described a country caught up in a moral dilemma to balance the worth of the precious metal with environmental woes.

“Ghana is Africa’s largest gold producer, and gold remains one of the most important pillars of our economy,” Bosu said. “However, alongside these economic benefits, we have witnessed an alarming increase in illegal and poorly regulated mining activities.”

The environmental consequences, he warned, have been severe.

“Many of our forest reserves have suffered extensive degradation. Rivers and water bodies that serve millions of people have become heavily polluted.”

Across gold-producing regions, forests are rapidly being cleared to dig mining pits, roads and processing kilns. Once mining begins, toxic substances often contaminate rivers and groundwater aquifers.

According to the GI-TOC report, illicit gold mining frequently paves the way for illegal logging, wildlife trafficking and land grabbing. Dirty money is increasingly being invested in cattle ranching that destroys critical forest ecosystems.

Mercury’s Silent Toll

While deforestation often captures public attention, experts say mercury pollution remains one of the most devastating but least visible consequences of artisanal and small-scale gold mining.

Speaking exclusively to IPS during the recent Global Environment Facility (GEF) Assembly in Samarkand, Uzbekistan, Monika Stankiewicz, Executive Secretary of the Minamata Convention on Mercury, warned that mercury contamination continues to threaten millions of people living in mining communities.

“Mercury contamination does not stop at the mining site,” Stankiewicz told IPS.

“It enters rivers and ecosystems, affecting fish, soil and water sources locally.”

For families dependent on fishing and farming, the consequences can be profound.

“Reduced food safety and food security, loss of income from contaminated natural resources, and long-term degradation of ecosystems they depend on,” she explained.

Mercury exposure can trigger neurological damage, memory loss, tremors, respiratory illnesses and reproductive health complications. Children are particularly vulnerable.

The impacts extend far beyond mining sites themselves.

Mercury released into the environment can travel vast distances through atmospheric circulation. Indigenous communities in the Arctic, for example, are experiencing mercury contamination despite having no mercury-intensive mining activities in their territories.

Following the Money

Yet environmental damage represents only one side of the illicit gold equation.

Several participants stressed that illicit gold is fundamentally a financial crime issue.

Julia Yansura, programme director, Environmental Crime & Illicit Finance, FACT Coalition, said billions of dollars earned through environmentally damaging mining activities continue to enter legitimate financial systems without scrutiny.

“What we are discussing today is not merely an environmental issue,” she said. “It is also a financial crime issue.”

Traditional responses have focused heavily on police raids and military operations targeting miners.

But according to Yansura, such interventions often fail because they focus on low-level actors while leaving intact the financial networks that sustain illegal mining.

“A more effective approach would focus on following the money,” she said.

The GI-TOC report supports that assessment, warning that criminals increasingly control entire gold supply chains.

The report also identifies growing use of cryptocurrencies and gold-backed stablecoins as emerging mechanisms for laundering illicit proceeds outside traditional anti-money laundering frameworks.

London’s Hidden Role

Much of the webinar focused on the responsibilities of major financial centres.

A coalition of 35 civil society organisations has urged governments gathering at the UK Illicit Finance Summit to recognise that gold has evolved beyond a commodity into what they describe as a strategic vehicle for organised crime, sanctions evasion and corruption.

The coalition notes that London remains the world’s largest over-the-counter gold trading hub, handling approximately 70 percent of global OTC gold trading volumes.

Because illicit gold frequently passes through multiple countries and refineries before reaching financial markets, campaigners argue that financial centres can no longer treat illegal mining as a problem confined to producer countries.

“The solution cannot come only from mining countries,” Yansura said. “It must also come from the financial centres where profits are ultimately laundered and legitimated.”

The coalition is calling for mandatory due diligence requirements, stronger beneficial ownership transparency, enhanced scrutiny of gold traders and robust anti-money laundering obligations across the entire gold supply chain.

A Crisis Outpacing Regulation

Sophia Pickles of the GI-TOC warned that existing international frameworks have failed to contain the evolving nature of illicit gold markets.

“There has undoubtedly been progress,” she acknowledged. “However, our recent research shows that criminal activity linked to gold mining is expanding.”

According to the GI-TOC report, voluntary responsible sourcing standards are insufficient against increasingly sophisticated criminal networks. Information gaps, weak customs oversight and opaque financial transactions continue to provide opportunities for illicit gold to enter legitimate markets.

Researchers argue that current approaches remain too narrowly focused on artisanal mining and conflict zones while overlooking broader vulnerabilities embedded throughout global supply chains.

Among the report’s key recommendations are legally binding due diligence requirements, stronger oversight of international bullion centres, mandatory transparency measures and enhanced scrutiny of financial institutions.

Searching for Solutions

Despite the scale of the challenge, Stankiewicz believes progress is possible.

Under the Minamata Convention, countries with significant artisanal and small-scale gold mining sectors are required to develop national action plans aimed at reducing mercury use and protecting communities.

The results, she says, are encouraging.

Countries are increasingly adopting mercury-free technologies, strengthening regulations and formalising parts of the mining sector.

Beyond the Gold Rush

As the webinar drew to an end, panellists emphasised that illicit gold is not just a mining issue but an environmental, health, governance, human rights and financial crime crisis.

For Mendoza Díaz and communities living on the edge of gold extraction, the message was crystal clear.

“We are not just defending our land and our territories; we are defending life itself and our ecosystem.”

IPS UN Bureau Report

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Pride Parade participants march on the Elisabeth bridge in Budapest, Hungary on 27 June 2026. Credit: Attila Kisbenedek/AFP

By Inés M. Pousadela
MONTEVIDEO, Uruguay, Jul 15 2026 (IPS)

On the morning of 28 June, riot police sealed off Taksim Square with iron barriers and enforced bans on all weekend gatherings in Istanbul. Marchers pressed ahead anyway, re-emerging from side streets each time police dispersed them. By the end of the day police had detained at least 50 people, including a journalist. It was Istanbul Pride’s 24th edition, and the 12th year running that the authorities banned it outright.

Homosexuality is not illegal in Turkey, so the state cannot prosecute people for who they are. Instead, it punishes them for making themselves visible. Authorities ban marches on ‘public morality’ grounds, block access to the social media accounts of LGBTQI+ organisations and put activists on trial for ‘obscenity’.

The pattern repeats in country after country. For a movement that spent decades making progress in winning recognition of rights, this Pride season tells a story of regression. A concerted backlash is clawing back territory once claimed, and Pride has again become a protest.

Much of the current wave of regression is a direct response to the gains LGBTQI+ movements made over previous decades. Anti-discrimination laws, recognition of equal marriage rights and growing public visibility have given opponents a clear target to mobilise against, and governments under economic or political pressure have found a convenient scapegoat in the LGBTQI+ community.

Authoritarian and populist leaders, facing discontent over corruption, inflation and unemployment, redirect public anger towards a minority that can be attacked without political cost, while conservative religious institutions find in opposition to LGBTQI+ rights, and particularly trans rights, a rallying cause that restores their claim to define society’s moral order. The result is a mutually reinforcing alliance between political power and religious conservatism, dressed up as the defence of children, the family and national identity.

Existence criminalised

A growing number of states are going further, criminalising not only LGBTQI+ people’s visibility but their very existence. Four West African states have criminalised consensual same-sex relations in the past two years, framing their move as a defence of national sovereignty against western influence. Mali’s military government criminalised homosexuality in December 2024 and Burkina Faso’s junta followed in September 2025. Niger’s new penal code, adopted last month, imposes punishment of up to 20 years in prison. Within weeks, media reported at least 40 arrests, the suspension of HIV prevention services and people fleeing the country.

Electoral democracies aren’t immune. In Senegal, parliament doubled the maximum sentence for ‘unnatural acts’ to 10 years in March, and over 300 ‘suspected homosexuals’ have reportedly been arrested in the past few months. Ghana’s parliament passed a bill imposing jail sentences on anyone who identifies as LGBTQI+ and requiring people to report prohibited activities to the authorities. President John Mahama has yet to sign it into law, but the debate about the bill has already fuelled a rise in blackmail, evictions and workplace discrimination.

The model is Uganda’s 2023 Anti-Homosexuality Act, which includes the death penalty for ‘aggravated homosexuality’ and punishes the vaguely defined crime of ‘promoting’ homosexuality with up to 20 years in prison.

All these laws, marketed as a rejection of foreign interference and imported values, have been promoted with foreign money. US-based conservative groups such as the American Center for Law and Justice and Family Watch International have played a key role in funding anti-rights advocacy. Days after passing its bill, Ghana’s parliament hosted the African Inter-Parliamentary Conference on Family Values and Sovereignty, a platform with documented ties to those groups that has promoted Uganda’s law as a template for the continent.

Consensus in retreat

US anti-rights groups have their president’s ear. Since returning to office, Donald Trump has signed a series of executive orders rolling back federal protections, particularly targeting transgender people. Private companies heard the message. Major events including NYC Pride and San Francisco Pride lost sponsors in 2025, and Tampa Pride had to cancel its 2026 parade.

For years, activist groups such as New York’s Reclaim Pride Coalition accused corporations of pinkwashing, that is, turning Pride into a corporate vehicle without advancing demands for rights. Many sponsors are now gone, but for the wrong reasons. Whatever its motives, sponsorship functioned as a seal of approval from mainstream institutions. Money withdrawn out of political fear takes with it more than event budgets; it erodes a social consensus that took decades to build.

Marching for those who can’t

In this context, the year’s biggest marches have become acts of political defiance. A million people marched in São Paulo under the theme ‘The street summons, the ballot box confirms’, ahead of Brazil’s October general election. In Bangkok, an all-time record half a million people marched a year after Thailand’s marriage equality law took effect, a testament to what legal recognition can do for a community’s visibility.

On 27 June, tens of thousands joined the 31st Budapest Pride, the first held since voters removed the right-wing populist government that repeatedly banned it. Organisers are treating this as a starting point, pressing the new government with a list of 14 demands that begins with repealing a 2021 ‘anti-LGBT propaganda’ law the European Union’s top court has ruled incompatible with equality and human dignity. Hungary shows that change is possible after all.

In places like Indonesia, Iraq, Niger and Uganda, among many more, there’s no Pride march to ban, because holding one is unthinkable. Even private organising now risks prosecution. In those places, people are looking outward, hoping that a crowd marching freely somewhere else will march for them too. That’s the duty of Pride season for those still free to gather: to mobilise both for themselves and for the many being forced to hide who they are.

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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An Islamabad High Court ruling awarding a divorced woman an equal share of assets acquired has sparked debate in Pakistan. Credit: Handout

By Zofeen Ebrahim
KARACHI, Pakistan, Jul 14 2026 (IPS)

A landmark Islamabad High Court ruling that recognised marriage as an economic partnership and awarded a divorced woman an equal share of assets acquired during marriage has triggered a legal and religious backlash, with Pakistan’s law ministry challenging the judgment before the Federal Shariat Court, a constitutional court empowered to determine whether laws and judicial rulings conform to the Qur’an and Sunnah.

Pakistani women, in general, spend years raising children, managing households and helping build family wealth but have little legal claim to assets accumulated during marriage.

“The continued resistance to recognising women’s non-financial contributions to building family wealth has no basis in religion or law,” said Maliha Zia of the Legal Aid Society, referring to the law ministry’s appeal before the Federal Shariat Court against a recent judgment by Islamabad High Court judge Mohsin Akhtar Kayani, who held that assets acquired during marriage should be divided equally, recognising homemaking and childcare as contributions equal to earning an income. She said it was disheartening to see a government ministry refusing to grant women economic rights and freedoms when it should be supporting women’s equality as guaranteed by the Constitution of Pakistan.

What began as a routine dowry dispute in 2021 – after Amara Waqas sought a share of her dowry and jointly acquired assets, along with maintenance for her two children – has grown into a debate over who gets what once the marriage ends, not just for Waqas but for countless Pakistani women facing a similar predicament.

Unsatisfied with the family court’s award of 30% share, she appealed to the appellate court, which dismissed her claim. Undeterred, she approached the Islamabad High Court, which ruled in her favour and transformed her case into a landmark judgment on women’s economic rights after divorce.

Dr Rakhshinda Perveen, founder of the Fight Against Dowry Advocacy Network, said the judgment marked a first step in recognising marriage as an economic partnership, valuing unpaid domestic work, dowry, and wedding gifts as measurable assets. A survivor of gender-based violence, including dowry-related abuse, Dr Perveen has campaigned to criminalise dowry demands and related violence, ban public display of dowry, and legally separate dowry from bridal gifts for over three decades.

“A woman who built a home, raised children and contributed income should never leave a marriage with nothing,” agreed Zia.

Fauzia Viqar, Federal Ombudsperson for Protection Against Harassment of Women at the Workplace, said: “The issue isn’t the ruling but resistance. Men in Pakistan refuse to grant women the property rights Islam already provides.” According to Viqar, there are over 20 Muslim countries (including Morocco, Iran, Malaysia, and the UAE) that provide maintenance and marital property rights in their family laws.

She also said the judiciary has started taking note of that. “Some proposals have been submitted to parliament since 2008,” she said but no action was taken.

Zia agreed, saying the judgment was years in the making. “LAS, with Musawah, has been working towards this for years” and training lawyers in strategic litigation. “Policy papers mean little without advocates willing to take cases to court,” she said, adding that a draft law on matrimonial property rights is now headed to parliament.

More recently, in 2023, the Lahore High Court directed amendments to the Muslim Family Laws Ordinance 1961 to recognise women’s matrimonial property rights. A year later, in 2024, Senator Barrister Syed Ali Zafar tabled a set of amendments to the family law seeking a share in assets accumulated during marriage for divorced women as “compensation for her contribution during her marriage”.

But the 2024 amendments were opposed by the Council of Islamic Ideology (which advises the legislature on the conformity of laws with the Qur’an and Sunnah).

It also opposed Justice Kayani’s recent judgment. “We don’t think it is in keeping with the teachings of the Qur’an and Sunnah, said Ghulam Majid, a senior research officer at the CII. “We thought the matter had been settled two years ago when the bill was blocked, but it keeps resurfacing,” added Majid, dismissing the proposal as part of a “Western agenda” with no place in Pakistan’s legal system.

Viewing marriage as an economic partnership, Justice Kayani’s judgement had cited laws in countries including the US, the UK, Türkiye and Malaysia, where jointly owned marital property is equitably divided regardless of title after divorce.

Majid remained unconvinced.

“These countries can have their own interpretation, but what is wrong is wrong, and we cannot endorse it.”

The debate is not simply between women’s rights advocates and religious scholars.

Islamic jurists are divided over whether the Qur’an and Sunnah support the recognition of a wife’s contribution to assets acquired during marriage. Unlike inheritance, which the Qur’an addresses explicitly, matrimonial property is left open to interpretation.

Humaira Masihuddin, who teaches Islamic jurisprudence to law students, argues that the Qur’anic principle of mata’a al-talaq (which provides for post-divorce support, together with its broader emphasis on justice) offers a basis for compensating divorced women.

Masihuddin, who also provides judicial training to family court judges on various women-specific laws, argues the issue should be revisited through ijtihad (independent legal reasoning). “We already have a forum – the CII. It should include jurists, judges and lawyers to deliberate on these interpretations and arrive at a fair solution for both spouses,” she said. The 20-member council currently comprises 19 men, one woman and no legal experts.

Justice Kayani also proposed amending the nikahnama (marriage contract) – the Muslim marriage contract – to allow spouses to agree in advance on an equal division of assets during marriage, after divorce or upon the husband’s death. Masihuddin, terming the nikahnama a “prenuptial agreement”, said these provisions are fully consistent with Islam. The judge also recommended legislation guaranteeing wives an equitable share of assets acquired during marriage.

Meanwhile, Waqas’ case remains pending despite the Islamabad High Court’s order for a fresh hearing within two months. Her husband has challenged the ruling in the Supreme Court. “A man’s ego, often reinforced by his family, can cause immense harm to a woman seeking justice after years of marriage,” said her lawyer, Rana Raza.

Whether Justice Kayani’s ruling survives the Federal Shariat Court remains to be seen.

But whatever the outcome, it has already forced Pakistan to confront a question its family laws have long avoided: should years spent building a home and raising a family count as an economic contribution when a marriage ends?

IPS UN Bureau Report

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A conceptual illustration of the Global Nobel Laureates Assembly at Castel Gandolfo, where Nobel laureates, AI experts, religious leaders and civil society representatives will confront the intertwined risks of artificial intelligence, nuclear weapons and war while seeking a new architecture for peace. Credit: INPS Japan

By Katsuhiro Asagiri
VATICAN CITY, Jul 13 2026 (IPS)

More than eight decades after the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki ushered humanity into the nuclear age, the world is confronting another technological revolution whose consequences extend far beyond science and industry.

Global Nobel Laureates Assembly on AI and Nuclear War

Against this backdrop, more than 200 participants — including around 30 Nobel laureates and representatives of Nobel Prize-winning organizations, former heads of state and government, leading artificial intelligence researchers, scientists, Catholic figures and civil society representatives — are set to gather from July 14 to 16 at Borgo Laudato Si’ in the Pontifical Gardens of Castel Gandolfo.

The Global Nobel Laureates Assembly on Artificial Intelligence and Nuclear War will bring together some of the world’s most prominent voices in science, technology, peacebuilding and ethics to consider one of the defining questions of the twenty-first century:

Can artificial intelligence become a force for peace, or will it deepen the dangers of war in an already unstable nuclear age?

The three-day gathering will conclude in Rome on July 16 with the presentation of the Rome Declaration for an Unarmed and Disarming Peace, intended to set out principles and recommendations for addressing artificial intelligence, nuclear weapons, autonomous weapons, digital governance and emerging models of technological development.

Source: Progressive Hub

The timing of the Assembly is no coincidence.

The international security environment has become increasingly fragile. Russia’s war in Ukraine has shaken Europe’s post-Cold War security order. Conflicts in the Middle East have heightened fears of wider regional escalation. Relations among the major powers have deteriorated, while nuclear rhetoric has returned to international politics with an intensity not seen for decades.

At the same time, all nine nuclear-armed states are modernizing or expanding their arsenals. Many of the arms-control arrangements that once helped manage strategic rivalry have weakened, expired or become politically paralyzed. Channels of communication among adversaries have narrowed, increasing the danger of misunderstanding and miscalculation.

Artificial intelligence is entering this volatile environment at extraordinary speed.

AI systems can already process vast quantities of intelligence, identify patterns, assist military planning, strengthen cyber capabilities and accelerate decisions that once required hours or days of human deliberation. They may eventually provide new tools for crisis prevention, verification and early warning.

But those same capabilities could also make crises more dangerous.

Artificial intelligence may shorten the time available to political and military leaders during emergencies. It may generate unreliable or misleading assessments, magnify disinformation, increase the vulnerability of command systems to cyberattacks and encourage states to delegate more authority to automated technologies.

A conceptual illustration of world leaders confronting the growing influence of artificial intelligence on military power and nuclear decision-making, as technological advances threaten to outpace political judgment and international governance. Credit: INPS Japan

The central concern is not necessarily that a machine will independently decide to launch a nuclear weapon. The more immediate danger is that AI-generated information, predictions or recommendations could influence human decision-makers during moments of extreme pressure, when information is incomplete and the consequences of error are irreversible.

Humanity is therefore confronting a challenge unlike any it has faced before.

The question is no longer simply how nuclear weapons should be controlled. It is also how the relationship between artificial intelligence, military power and nuclear decision-making should be governed before technological developments outpace political judgment.

Pope Leo XIV, photographed in October 2025 during an audience with President of Brazil Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva in the Vatican Credit: Wikimedia Commons

The choice of the Vatican as host is deeply symbolic.

The Holy See commands no nuclear arsenal and exercises little conventional military power. Yet it maintains diplomatic relations with most of the world’s states and has long sought to place human dignity, moral responsibility and the protection of civilians at the center of debates about war and peace.

The Assembly is being held at Borgo Laudato Si’, an educational and ecological center established in the gardens of the papal residence at Castel Gandolfo. According to the organizers, the meeting is inspired by Pope Leo XIV’s encyclical Magnifica humanitas, devoted to the protection of the human person in the age of artificial intelligence.

Its guiding vision — an “Unarmed and Disarming Peace” — suggests a concept of peace that goes beyond the absence of war.

An unarmed peace rejects the assumption that security can be permanently sustained through ever-greater military force. A disarming peace seeks not only the reduction of weapons but also the transformation of the political fears, rivalries and economic structures that perpetuate militarization.

This approach broadens the discussion beyond questions of technological safety.

It asks what kind of society humanity wishes to build as increasingly powerful systems reshape politics, economics, communication and warfare. It also raises a deeper ethical question: whether innovation will remain subordinate to human dignity, or whether human beings will gradually be subordinated to the technologies they create.

Beyond Governments

Perhaps the Assembly’s most significant feature is its recognition that governments alone can no longer govern all the technologies shaping the future.

During the Cold War, nuclear diplomacy belonged primarily to states. Agreements such as the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons and the Comprehensive Nuclear-Test-Ban Treaty were negotiated among governments because states controlled nuclear arsenals, delivery systems and the materials needed to build them.

Artificial intelligence presents a fundamentally different reality.

Many of the world’s most advanced AI systems are being developed by private companies, universities and research laboratories. Technology firms possess computing resources, data and specialized expertise that rival or exceed the capacities of many governments. Decisions made inside corporate research divisions can have global political, social and security consequences.

Effective governance will therefore require more than traditional diplomacy.

It will require sustained cooperation among states, technology companies, scientists, universities, international institutions, religious communities and civil society.

That is precisely why the Assembly will bring together Nobel laureates, AI companies, leading universities and research institutions, nuclear disarmament organizations, Catholic figures centered around the Vatican, and civil society organizations, including Soka Gakkai, a Buddhist-based movement engaged in peacebuilding, dialogue and nuclear abolition.

Global Nobel Laureates Assembly on Artificial Intelligence and Nuclear War

Participants and supporting institutions include representatives associated with OpenAI, Google DeepMind, Anthropic and AARU, as well as the Nobel Women’s Initiative, International Physicians for the Prevention of Nuclear War, the Pugwash Conferences on Science and World Affairs, the Yunus Center and the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists.

Universities and research institutions from Europe, Asia, North America and Australia are also expected to take part.

The significance of this gathering lies not simply in the prominence of those attending, but in the diversity of the communities represented.

Instead of relying exclusively on governments, the Assembly reflects an emerging model of global governance in which science, technology, ethics, religion and civil society seek common ground in addressing shared existential risks.

From Warheads to Algorithms

For much of the nuclear age, arms-control negotiations focused on physical objects: warheads, missiles, bombers, submarines, nuclear materials and testing facilities.

The AI age introduces a different set of challenges.

Algorithms are less visible than missiles. Software can be modified rapidly. Data can cross national borders almost instantaneously. Commercial systems developed for peaceful purposes can also have military applications. Verification, accountability and transparency become far more difficult when the relevant technologies are embedded in code, networks and privately controlled computing infrastructure.

This means that future arms-control and security frameworks may need to govern not only weapons but also the digital systems that inform, guide or accelerate their use.

Questions that once appeared theoretical are becoming increasingly urgent.

Should artificial intelligence ever be integrated into nuclear command-and-control systems? What level of human oversight must be maintained over autonomous weapons? How should states respond when AI systems produce conflicting warnings during a crisis? Can private technology companies be held accountable when their products are adapted for military purposes? And what international institutions are capable of establishing credible safeguards?

The Assembly cannot resolve all these questions in three days.

But by placing nuclear experts, Nobel laureates, AI developers, scholars, religious figures and peace advocates in the same forum, it may help establish a common vocabulary for debates that have until now often taken place in isolation from one another.

The Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons, signed 20 September 2017 by 50 United Nations member states. Credit: UN Photo / Paulo Filgueiras

History suggests that humanity has repeatedly responded to existential threats by creating new ideas, institutions and norms.

The Russell-Einstein Manifesto of 1955 warned that nuclear weapons had placed the survival of the human species in jeopardy. The first Pugwash Conference in 1957 opened channels of communication among scientists divided by the Cold War. The Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty later became the central framework of the international nuclear order.

The Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons, adopted in 2017, further strengthened the humanitarian and moral challenge to nuclear deterrence by declaring nuclear weapons incompatible with international humanitarian principles.

Whether the Global Nobel Laureates Assembly will eventually be regarded as part of that historical lineage remains uncertain.

Declarations issued at international conferences rarely transform policy overnight. They may lack legal force, enforcement mechanisms or immediate political support. Their language can be aspirational, and their influence may not become visible for years.

Yet declarations can also change the terms of international debate.

The Russell-Einstein Manifesto did not eliminate nuclear weapons, but it helped inspire a movement. The first Pugwash meeting did not end the Cold War, but it established relationships that later contributed to arms-control diplomacy. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights was not initially binding, yet it became a foundational reference for international law and political legitimacy.

The importance of the Rome Declaration may therefore depend less on whether it produces immediate agreements than on whether it begins a sustained process involving governments, technology companies, universities, international organizations and civil society.

The larger question is whether it can help create norms before dangerous practices become entrenched.

Looking Toward the Rome Declaration

Palazzo Senatorio　Credit: Di Tournasol7 – Opera propria, CC BY-SA 4.0

The document is intended to address the age of artificial intelligence, nuclear and autonomous weapons, new digital protocols and emerging models of digital development. According to the organizers, it will seek to promote international security based on cooperation, human dignity, integral development and peace among peoples.

The critical test will be whether the Declaration moves beyond broad ethical appeals.

Will it call for meaningful human control over nuclear and autonomous weapons systems? Will it propose restrictions on the role of AI in nuclear decision-making? Will it outline responsibilities for private AI companies? Will it recommend new international monitoring, dialogue or verification mechanisms? And will it establish a continuing process capable of translating principles into policy?

The answers will determine whether the meeting remains primarily symbolic or becomes the starting point of a broader “Rome Process” on artificial intelligence, nuclear risk and human security.

More than eight decades after Hiroshima and Nagasaki, humanity once again faces technologies capable of reshaping the future of civilization.

Nuclear weapons remain the most immediate means by which human beings could destroy their own societies. Artificial intelligence, meanwhile, is beginning to influence the speed, complexity and character of the decisions that could determine whether those weapons are ever used.

The defining challenge is therefore no longer simply whether humanity can control nuclear arms.

It is whether humanity can build institutions capable of ensuring that artificial intelligence strengthens human judgment rather than displacing it, reduces the danger of catastrophic error rather than magnifying it, and serves peace rather than war.

The answer will not emerge from three days of deliberation at Castel Gandolfo.

But the conversation beginning there may help shape international debates over technology, security and human responsibility for years to come.

Credit: UN photo

INPS Japan will report from Castel Gandolfo and Rome during the Assembly and will publish follow-up analysis after the Rome Declaration is presented on July 16. This article is brought to you by INPS Japan in collaboration with Soka Gakkai International in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.

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For most individuals, the process of peace starts with the signing of a ceasefire or an agreement among politicians. However, those who live in regions experiencing violence understand that peace is made long before politicians meet at the negotiating table. Peace is created among communities by people who work everyday to ensure that no violence takes place, and that disputes are sorted out.

Muna Luqman, Yemeni peacebuilding advisor and humanitarian leader.

Speaking to IPS Inter Press Service, Yemeni peacebuilding advisor and humanitarian leader Muna Luqman challenged conventional thinking about who builds peace and where peacebuilding truly begins, “Communities never wait until peace happens,” Luqman said. “They’re working to protect peace on a daily basis.”

Based on her extensive experience working in Yemen for more than 15 years, Luqman explained how local communities, especially women, resolve disputes, provide crucial services, negotiate humanitarian assistance and create dialogical spaces way ahead of any intervention of international organizations.

Luqman is the founder and chairperson of Food for Humanity, has seen first-hand the changes conflict brings about in society. While living through the Yemeni civil war, she faced airstrikes and negotiated the evacuation of civilians caught up in the war zone. These experiences led her to realize that humanitarian response alone is inadequate.

“If we only respond to the consequences of conflict without addressing its causes, we will always be a step behind,” she reflected. Her experience also exposed one of the greatest challenges facing local peacebuilders and that is of recognition.

“We thought we would be the first to be supported,” she said, referring to local organisations that led humanitarian responses before international actors arrived. “But we found out that it was a long process.”

According to a report by UN Women, around 676 million lived within 50 kilometers of deadly conflict in 2024 – the highest figure since the 1990s. Sima Bahous, Executive Director of UN Women, said, “Women and girls are being killed in record numbers, shut out of peace tables, and left unprotected as wars multiply. Women do not need more promises, they need power, protection, and equal participation.”

Data collected by the United Nations from 2020-2024 found that, “Women’s representation as negotiators, mediators and signatories in peace processes is far below the target set by the UN. In 2024, women made up only seven percent of negotiators on average worldwide, and nearly nine out of ten negotiation tracks included no women negotiators”. The report stated, women were slightly more represented in mediation roles, averaging 14 percent but still, two-thirds of mediation efforts did not include women.

The discrepancy for Luqman pointed to an underlying problem in international peacebuilding. While local groups responded immediately to communities in need, other institutions were bound by mandates, funding, and procedures. It becomes evident, she says, why true inclusion in peacebuilding should be more than merely symbolic in nature.

True inclusion requires recognizing women not as mere recipients of help or observers of processes, but as active participants in negotiating, mediating, and taking crucial decisions. It is proven that peace treaties are much more sustainable in those cases where women are actively involved in the negotiation process. Women broaden the agenda from purely political aspects like political power-sharing to such crucial areas as justice, education, health care, livelihoods, displacement, and community reconciliation.

Luqman believes that local women possess a unique understanding of these realities because they remain deeply embedded within their communities. “Women mediators are willing to prevent disagreements before they become violence,” she explained. She has witnessed women in Yemen securing the release of prisoners, organizing their communities to rebuild schools and water supplies, and preventing children from joining armed groups. This is often done discreetly, outside the limelight of the international community.

“The strength of women peacebuilders is their ability to mobilize their communities,” she said. However, it is precisely these women who find themselves in extraordinary circumstances. They are threatened, intimidated, forced to flee, and often lack funds despite helping others. Protecting women peacebuilders must be a priority on the global agenda, Luqman asserts.

“They do this work while they are facing either lack of funding or no funding at all. They remain resilient, they remain vulnerable at the same time, and they remain under threats.”

She believes that the international community needs to go beyond recognizing the contribution of women and work to provide financial support to women-led organizations that are trusted and credible within the local communities.

While serving as the United Nations National Coordinator on Inclusion in the Peace Process of Yemen, Luqman developed an approach that would allow local people to speak up. The initiative did not consider participation just as a formal aspect but actually aimed to bring in the community perspective. “It wasn’t symbolic participation,” she told me. “We really took that analysis and used it in our system.” This is because peace processes cannot be made by the political elite only; they need to be inclusive of communities that have been experiencing conflict.

In Luqman’s opinion, local governance, climate challenges, livelihoods, transitional justice, and building trust are not marginal questions but rather central factors in avoiding further outbreaks of violence.

Luqman insists on the need for peacebuilding to involve listening: “Sometimes listening to the people themselves and giving them a space is in itself a peace process.”

In the context of rising complexity of conflicts, the importance of inclusion into peace processes has never been so urgent. Women’s involvement in the processes cannot be considered as some kind of equality issue or simply as an obligation under international mechanisms.

On the contrary, it is strategically necessary based on experience and community trust. The message from Luqman to policymakers is obvious: local women peacebuilders are not marginal figures in peacebuilding but its cornerstone. “The local women peacebuilders are the structure and the backbone of these societies,” Luqman said. “They are valuable. They should be treated as valuable assets. They should be supported and protected.” Constructing sustainable peace is not possible only through negotiations of the parties involved in armed conflict but also through investing in people who have done so many years of keeping communities together despite the situation being unrecognizable.

Sania Farooqui is an independent journalist and host of The Peace Brief, a platform dedicated to amplifying the voices of women in peacebuilding and human rights.

IPS UN Bureau Report

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CIVICUS speaks about efforts to use the 2026 FIFA World Cup to highlight Mexico’s enforced disappearance crisis with Ana Enamorado, a Honduran national who continues to search for her missing son in Mexico, and founder of the Regional Network of Migrant Families.

Ana Enamorado

How did your son Óscar go missing, and what’s known about his case?

My son Óscar was 19 when he went missing. He left Honduras in 2008, fleeing the violence, and was in the USA when some young men invited him to Mexico with the promise of a job, a good wage, an education and the chance to see me again. It was all a deception.

Those were the years of the war on drugs that President Felipe Calderón declared in 2006, when the cartels began forcibly recruiting young people to join their ranks. Óscar was taken to El Carrizo, in the municipality of San Sebastián del Oeste, Jalisco state. It’s an isolated place with no public transport and severe deprivation, which makes it very difficult to escape. I last spoke to him on 19 January 2010, and I haven’t heard his voice since.

Little is known about his case, and the little that’s known is marred by negligence. In December 2009, weeks before his last call, charred bodies were found in the same place, but the investigation led nowhere. In 2013, forensic authorities in Jalisco attempted to hand over some ashes to me without any DNA evidence to confirm they were my son’s. The forensic institute went so far as to cremate around 1,560 unidentified bodies in less than a decade, a practice that has left so many families with no way of knowing the truth.

The Mexican state only began searching for Óscar in 2020, 10 years after I reported him missing. To this day, I am still searching for him and demanding justice.

What obstacles do migrant families face when searching for missing loved ones?

A major obstacle is the indifference of the authorities in the country of origin, which in my case is Honduras. We families are left on our own, with no one to guide us. The consulate should be the first authority to assist us, and it should do so quickly, because the first few hours are crucial for finding a person alive. But it rarely does so. As a result, filing a missing person report and a formal complaint becomes almost impossible. And without that, it’s not possible to open an investigation file or access our rights.

Added to this is my immigration status. Although I have been living in Mexico for 14 years, I am still considered a ‘visitor on humanitarian grounds’ and, to retain this status, I have to prove every year that my son is still missing. Having to prove my tragedy time and time again just to be able to stay revictimises me. That’s why I initiated legal proceedings against the National Institute of Migration to change my status to that of a permanent resident. However, it continues to reject my application, leaving me in a precarious situation when it comes to accessing my basic rights.

Why did you decide to protest during the World Cup?

We took to the streets of the host cities to show the other side of Mexico: the corruption, violence, impunity and the state’s indifference towards the thousands of missing people. Although the Mexican state may wish to project an image of celebration and modernity through the World Cup, there can be no World Cup celebrations against the backdrop of the humanitarian crisis caused by disappearances.

In Mexico, there are over 135,000 missing people. To put this into perspective, that number is one and a half times the capacity of the Azteca Stadium, where several matches in this World Cup have been played, including the opening match. Added to this is a forensic crisis. There are over 75,000 unidentified bodies. That is 75,000 people who did not return home and whose families continue inquiring about their whereabouts.

And the number keeps rising. We estimate that, since the World Cup began on 11 June, over 1,200 further people have gone missing. On 30 June, three teenagers aged 14 and 15 disappeared in Guadalajara, one of the host cities, in broad daylight amid streets full of celebrating crowds. The authorities believe it may have been a case of recruitment by organised crime. This practice continues unabated, and the government shows no sign of wanting to stop it or of searching for the missing people, particularly when they are migrants.

How has the Mexican government responded to the protests?

The state is uncomfortable with us taking to the streets to protest because every time we do, we expose the harsh and painful reality it wants to hide. That’s why, instead of listening to us and searching for our loved ones, it has responded with criminalisation, mockery and repression.

At her morning press conference on the day of the World Cup opening ceremony, President Claudia Sheinbaum played down our demonstration, and the Secretary of the Interior insinuated that someone was paying us to take to the streets, announcing an investigation into how we are funded. It’s an accusation that’s as painful as it’s outrageous. We have always searched for our loved ones using our own resources.

Then came the repression. Riot police cordoned us off and encircled us to prevent us from reaching the stadiums. On 30 June, on Calzada de Tlalpan, one of Mexico City’s main avenues, they assaulted and detained members of the ‘Hasta Encontrarte’ (Until we find you) collective simply for carrying images bearing the faces of their loved ones. Physical violence adds to the emotional and psychological trauma we already bear. Meanwhile, federal and state forces were deployed to ensure the safety of tourists, an effort they have never made to search for our loved ones.

What are you demanding of the government and international bodies?

We demand, first and foremost, that the Mexican state make the search for missing people a real priority. We call on President Sheinbaum to meet with the families and collectives in person to reach genuine agreements on search, location and prevention. We want to know how many people have been found alive, to have proper investigations carried out and to have trained and empathetic staff who can provide us with real answers.

But this crisis extends beyond Mexico’s borders, and the response must do the same. The United Nations Committee on Enforced Disappearances and the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights have offered their assistance. We call on the government to accept it. Such cooperation is urgent, because there are tens of thousands of people of other nationalities who have gone missing in Mexico, and searching for them requires the activation of international mechanisms. Many are women who have been trafficked, and most are taken out of the country, so finding them depends on governments working together.

Finally, we call on the international community to not turn a blind eye to what’s happening, and on the media to help us amplify our demands, so our voices reach the world just as World Cup goals do.

We won’t rest until we find them. They were taken alive, and we want them back alive.

CIVICUS interviews a wide range of civil society activists, experts and leaders to gather diverse perspectives on civil society action and current issues for publication on its CIVICUS Lens platform. The views expressed in interviews are the interviewees’ and do not necessarily reflect those of CIVICUS. Publication does not imply endorsement of interviewees or the organisations they represent.

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Karen Hallberg

By Karen Hallberg
TOKYO, Japan, Jul 10 2026 (IPS)

Eighty years since the dawn of the nuclear age, which began with the first nuclear test in New Mexico, USA, and with the tragic atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, humanity faces a deep existential crisis. This crisis is much more unstable and unpredictable than the gravest Cold War confrontations. In 1955, when there were only three states with nuclear weapons and the first thermonuclear weapon was being developed, the Russell-Einstein Manifesto posed a profound question: “Shall we put an end to the human race; or shall mankind renounce war?” Today, with 9 states possessing nuclear weapons and several thousand thermonuclear devices, this question becomes an ultimate choice.

The Pugwash Conferences is deeply concerned about the deterioration of the international system, in which the threat and use of force has become preferable to diplomacy. Current military confrontations involving nuclear-weapon states pose an existential risk to civilization, a risk that can be drastically increased by a new wave of nuclear proliferation.

With the expiration of the New START between the United States and the Russian Federation, the international community has officially entered an era without a binding, verifiable agreement to constrain the world’s two largest nuclear arsenals. For the first time in more than fifty years, dating back to the era of the 1972 SALT I, the two preeminent nuclear powers are operating without the essential guardrails that provided control, stability, predictability and transparency to the global order and were instrumental in reducing the total number of nuclear warheads from around 70,000 in the mid-eighties to current ~12,200 (or a yield larger than 146,000 Hiroshima-bombs equivalent!). However, despite historic progress in reducing 9 global nuclear stockpiles, the current trajectory suggests a troubling reversal of those hard-won security gains in times of a resurgent nuclear arms race, heightened global tensions and military confrontations involving nuclear-armed states.

The ongoing expansion and modernization of the nuclear arsenals of most nuclear-armed states is adding new pressures to global strategic stability, particularly in the absence of any arms control dialogue. These developments reflect the growing salience of nuclear weapons in international security, undermining global non-proliferation and disarmament efforts, in particular, Art. VI of the Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT), which has definitely constrained the spread of nuclear weapons for more than half a century and is now under severe strain.

At the same time, the growing support for the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons reflects the determination of many states and civil society actors to advance the goal of the complete abolition of nuclear weapons. While differences remain regarding pathways to disarmament, the Treaty has reinforced the humanitarian imperative of eliminating nuclear weapons and has helped keep the vision of a nuclear-weapon-free world firmly on the international agenda.

Recent discussions about extending nuclear deterrence arrangements within Europe to additional non-nuclear-weapon states, together with emerging political voices advocating in favor of nuclear weapons in East Asia and other regions, risk igniting a new, uncontrollable wave of proliferation to safeguard their own survival.

Equally troubling are irresponsible threats by some nuclear-weapon states to resume nuclear testing. Such rhetoric contributes to a potentially dangerous escalation and threatens the continuation of the longstanding moratorium on nuclear explosive testing established in anticipation of the entry into force of the Comprehensive Nuclear-Test-Ban Treaty, which still awaits ratification by key states.

The current situation poses great challenges ahead, which can and should be addressed immediately, without delay:

– Nuclear-weapon states should reconfirm their Joint Statement issued on January 2022 on preventing nuclear war and avoiding a nuclear arms race sending a clear signal on the political will to the diminish the role played by nuclear weapons in international security. In doing so, they would also reaffirm their obligations under Article VI of the NPT, which commits all parties to pursue negotiations in good faith toward ending the nuclear arms race and achieving nuclear disarmament. 10

– Nuclear-armed states must recognize their responsibility to identify areas of common interest and engage in serious diplomatic efforts aimed at revitalizing multilateral arms control negotiations.

– All nuclear-armed states should reiterate their voluntary commitment to a moratorium on nuclear explosive testing and take the necessary steps to secure the prompt entry into force of the Comprehensive Nuclear Test Ban Treaty. Any resumption of nuclear testing would represent a dangerous step toward renewed arms racing and strategic instability.

– Nuclear-armed states should strengthen negative security assurances by reaffirming that they will neither use nor threaten to use nuclear weapons against non-nuclear-armed states, adopt no-first-use commitments, and work toward making these assurances legally binding.

– Strengthening the verification and monitoring role of the International Atomic Energy Agency will remain essential for ensuring compliance transparency, and confidence within the global non-proliferation regime, including non-nuclear-weapon states.

– Consolidate nuclear weapons free zones, in particular establish one in the Middle East, as agreed at the 1995 and 2010 NPT Review Conferences.

These measures could serve as practical confidence-building and risk-reduction steps, helping to increase global stability and preventing a spiraling “nuclear breakout”. They could also serve as a diplomatic bridge towards a more cooperative, comprehensive and modernized future security architecture capable of addressing modern challenges including artificial intelligence, quantum technologies, hypersonic weapons, missile defense systems, space-based military capabilities and autonomous weapons.

Raising public and political awareness of the existential risks posed by nuclear weapons is of utmost importance, as stated in the recent Declaration of the Nobel Laureate Assembly , “we call on scientists, academics, civil society, and communities of faith to help create the necessary pressure on global leaders to implement nuclear risk reduction measures.“ The responsibility lies with us all. Let us be inspired and guided by the closing words of the Russell-Einstein Manifesto: “We appeal as human beings to human beings: remember your humanity, and forget the rest.”

This text was contributed as the foreword to the Annual Report of a media project “Toward the World without Nuclear Weapons” promoted by INPS Japan in partnership with Soka Gakkai International. The report compiles project articles published between April 2025 and March 2026.

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

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Excerpt:

Neda Korunovska, Vice President for Analytics and Results at the Roma Foundation for Europe.

By Ed Holt
BRATISLAVA, Jul 8 2026 (IPS)

Governments, donors, NGOs, development banks and businesses recently gathered in Gdansk, Poland, to discuss reconstruction in Ukraine even as Russia’s full-scale invasion continues.

But while billions of euros have been pledged for the country’s recovery, major questions remain over how reconstruction can be delivered effectively, transparently and equitably.

The war has disproportionately affected many marginalised communities, especially Roma families who often face barriers to housing, healthcare, education and employment. Without targeted measures, reconstruction programmes risk reinforcing existing inequalities, warn Roma rights advocates.

IPS spoke to Neda Korunovska, Vice President for Analytics and Results at the Roma Foundation for Europe, about why it is vital that Roma voices are taken into account in any reconstruction plans for the country.

IPS: How extensive is the construction of Ukraine going to have to be after the war? What kind of reconstruction is needed?

Neda Korunovska (NK): I think there are two things that need to be taken into consideration. One is the kind of physical reconstruction of the society of Ukraine and the other is an intangible reconstruction. A good thing is that every year a rapid assessment of the needs of the Ukrainian recovery is produced by the World Bank, UN institutions, EU institutions, and the Ukrainian government, and it basically sums up the country’s reconstruction needs, projecting them for about 10 years ahead. The Economic Institute in Kiev also produces an estimate [of the cost of reconstruction] but all these are economic models.

But what is more difficult to work out an estimate for is what is going to be needed for Ukrainian society to actually be an inclusive society. And this is where I think current estimates are falling short in terms of how much funding, but also intent, is going to be needed.

We know from our work that it is very difficult to be as inclusive as possible in reconstruction. Ukrainian society has inherited divisions which, during the war, have become even more polarised, for instance, those that are serving in the army, those that are not serving, those that are internally displaced, refugees, etc. This all needs to be taken into account in the discussions of social cohesion that are taking place.

Of course, one obstacle to any reconstruction is that the war is continuing and is protracted. There is new damage all the time, every year, and the funding priority is security and defence. There is a financial gap in every year in terms of what is needed just for emergency response as opposed to what is available in funding. This makes the situation for any reconstruction much more complex.

IPS: You mentioned divisions within Ukrainian society. Are there some people in Ukraine saying that when it comes to post-war reconstruction, certain groups have to take priority over others? Is that already happening?

NK: Officially, no, but unofficially, it is happening. In a recent report we did, we documented how this is happening with, for instance, new schemes for claiming compensation for damage to housing. Everything is formalised – to be registered as an internally displaced person (IDP), you need a valid ID from the occupied or war-affected zones. If you don’t have an ID or you don’t have an ID that is valid for your place of residence, even if you were living there and you come from that region, you are not entitled to assistance. So in these cases, or if the administration is overstretched, there is an informal prioritisation of people based on who someone knows. It’s the same in not just Ukraine but lots of post-Soviet countries – social networks are essential to be able to get, for instance, the right doctor’s appointment, etc. It is good if you know somebody who knows somebody. And this is also how things are going on informally [in Ukraine at the moment]. It’s about how quick you can get things done, because they cannot assist everyone at the moment with the resources they have. Things are being prioritised not formally, but informally, and groups that have less social capital, of course, will not be prioritised.

IPS: This could be especially true for Roma because in Roma communities there are many people who don’t have identification and it’s very difficult for them to actually sometimes prove home ownership and things like that. Are you particularly concerned that, when it comes to post-war reconstruction, Roma are going to be very left out?

NK: Yes, unfortunately, even during the war, the annual social cohesion index showed that there was a big gap [between Roma and the rest of society]. The only places where this has improved are in war-affected areas where people went through the hardest conditions together and stayed there and forged a level of kinship that didn’t exist prior to the war. Unfortunately, this does not translate to the rest of the Ukrainian territory, which is for us a real concern.

IPS: Are you worried that any other particular minority groups might be left out as well, not just Roma?

NK: Yes, but I think this risk is most acute for Roma because of a kind of widespread opinion in Ukraine that they don’t belong in Ukrainian society and the majority of Ukrainians would like to see them leave the country. But I think that all ethnic minorities will face challenges after the war, including Russians who stay in Ukraine.

IPS: But Roma are likely to face the biggest challenges, yes?

NK: Yes, because they will be starting at a level where the compound challenges that they face are the largest [of any minority in Ukraine] – in terms of education, in terms of the types of jobs that they serve, in terms of the language, in terms of literacy and ability to acquire languages, in terms of where they are located, where they live, i.e., in rural areas, isolated areas, informal settlements, et cetera. Of course, there are differences. Ukraine is quite a diverse country, so we have certain areas that are, let’s say, much better than others. But definitely the face deep challenges, and these have been compounded by the war and we don’t currently see a capacity or appetite to deal with this. And this is where our concern lies.

The priorities for reconstruction in Ukraine will be energy, de-mining land, transport, and housing. There will be a focus on the issues that affect the majority of the population. And this is why Roma are always left out, because we are talking about a minority that faces compound challenges. The image of Roma, which many people have held for centuries, is a negative one. It is not one of a productive teacher, a worker, an electrical engineer, et cetera. This is the root cause of some of the things that we see today, because it’s kind of always in the margin in any calculation.

IPS: Some Roma communities, like other communities across the country, have suffered damage to their homes during the war, and these need to be rebuilt. Are you worried, though, that some Roma communities will, when the war ends, get no compensation, that nothing will be rebuilt and that those communities will be just left to decay and the Roma who live there will be forced to leave and go somewhere else? Are you worried that this might happen?

NK: Yes, definitely. I’m worried this will happen unless there is a significant change in how the country documents repairs. Many Roma live in houses that they do not actually officially own for different reasons, such as difficult inheritance procedures, non-registration of property, and not undertaking other procedures – all of these procedures require co-payments, taxes, administrative taxes, etc., which unfortunately many Roma cannot afford because they prioritise survival, food, and heating over dealing with paperwork. These are all hard-working families that were acting in good faith but the whole issue of property ownership [among Roma] is a problem. And then there is the question of the properties themselves and how well built they are – some were built with rudimentary materials and are more prone to damage. This is a vulnerability for many Roma, but it is one that is not visible in the current compensation system.

IPS: So how is it possible to make sure that Roma communities are not left out of post-war reconstruction?

NK: As a foundation we argue that there should be political empowerment of Roma, but when you have such a marginalised community, in Ukraine specifically, we need to ensure that there is at least consultation with Roma to understand the challenges and to understand the details of the barriers they face so they are incorporated into the design of any reconstruction. There has to be an understanding in Ukraine that the new Ukraine which is being built must be inclusive and that support for this has to come from the political leadership, which has to speak openly about it and prioritise it.

We have seen in some other post-war periods in other countries that not dealing with social cohesion can give rise to certain risks. When you are in a war, nationalism, in a sense, patriotism, is built in, because this is the essence of defence. Some of the kind of paramilitary groups that killed Roma before the war became war heroes. How many of them have changed their beliefs? And what happens when peace comes? I am not suggesting in any way that people are going to go and kill Roma after the war, but research and experience from other conflicts have suggested that in post-war periods it is quite reasonable to expect an increase in domestic violence, femicides, and ethnic and racially motivated killings. et cetera. There is a question about who is contributing [to the war effort]. A lot of Roma theoretically have formal exemptions from military service because they have small children, for example, or if they are illiterate, they cannot be enlisted, etc. But they see Ukraine as their home country, despite the discrimination they face, and they feel that now is the time to defend Ukraine, to defend their homeland. And they’re fighting. And we hope that this will not be forgotten in the post-war recovery. Because this was forgotten in Kosovo, it was forgotten in Bosnia and Herzegovina. We’ve seen these examples.

IPS: When you speak to lawmakers, members of the government, and people in charge in Ukraine, do you feel that they’re aware of these potential risks and also are they aware of how important it is that Roma are included in any reconstruction?

NK: I have to be honest that I think, yes. The problem is that it is not a priority at the moment because they are fighting a war and they are trying to function as a state in parallel to fighting that war. The bandwidth of the political focus is quite narrow.

IPS: But are they already thinking about this in terms of post-war reconstruction?

NK: I think that in discussions they are doing the right things, but the question is, how do you transition from that to actually working with society? Ukraine is a very decentralised country – capacities at the regional and local levels are quite diverse. And here we also see differences in how Roma are treated. So I think it’s not just a question at the policy level but about the capacity of an administration to deal with what programmes will actually make sure that the work will be done right.

It’s not happening at the moment – we can see that with house-damage reconstruction, which has not been opened for informal housing, accepting alternative proof of ownership. But there are also problems with the damage being so vast that there is not enough funding for everything and so they are prioritising the formerly ‘clean’ cases.

IPS: Why is it vitally important that Roma are included in the post-war reconstruction of Ukraine?

NK: Many people might say that the country has gone through immense suffering and immense personal damage in terms of deaths of family members, friends, having to relocate, and suffering damage to their homes, so why should there be some kind of emphasis on the Roma? But the question is, what is going to be the main basis of the new Ukraine? Not dealing with the legacies that push Roma into informality, that push Roma out of school, etc., is not in the interest of Ukraine because, unfortunately, Ukraine has lost a lot and it really needs to mobilise everyone in Ukraine for the future. It has to find ways to allow everyone in Ukraine to be who they are and contribute to the economy, to the politics, and to the culture of Ukraine.

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A 12-year-old girl from northern Togo, orphaned and displaced to northern Benin with her siblings, is now attending school and benefiting from a cash programme, which supports vulnerable girls’ education and wellbeing. Credit: UNICEF/UNI970733/Njiokiktjien

By Ana Patricia Muñoz and George Laryea-Adjei
WASHINGTON DC / NEW YORK, Jul 8 2026 (IPS)

Almost half of the world’s population now lives in countries that spend more money paying interest on their debts than on education or health. New data shows the cost of borrowing for African countries in particular rose 91% since 2020. Rising debt payments have reduced governments’ capacity to invest in children and build their human capital.

This week UN officials and government leaders gather in New York for the High-level Political Forum, where the Sustainable Development Goal on financing and global partnership (SDG 17) comes up for its in-depth review. They must go beyond short-term fixes and drive sustainable solutions to the debt crisis and its impact on children’s futures. Too many countries are struggling to keep pace with debt payments and facing a stark and painful choice: spend less on children or default. This fiscal crunch has a disproportionate impact on girls, especially in marginalized and remote communities, as efforts to narrow the gender gap in educational attainment are undercut by debt servicing. In 2024, the 10 countries facing the worst barriers to girls’ education spent, on average, four times more on debt servicing than on education.

Debt choices today are also silently eroding children’s prospects and future economic growth. UNICEF analysis shows that African countries spend, on average, just 6.5 per cent of their child-related budgets on the critical first five years of life, while G20 countries invest roughly four times as much. As debt servicing consumes an increasing share of public resources in many countries, governments face difficult fiscal trade-offs that can further reduce investments in children. The result is not only a loss for this generation, but also lower productivity, diminished human capital and weaker long-term growth. The World Bank estimates that today’s children could lose up to half of their future lifetime earnings because of deficits in learning and human capital development.

Work by the International Budget Partnership shows that the global debt crisis is also an accountability crisis. The Open Budget Survey 2025 finds that 50% of surveyed countries do not provide information on the composition of debt in their budget proposals, and just 18% publish any information on the sustainability of government finances over the next ten years. In a recent assessment of 11 African countries, only one country published a borrowing plan that was connected to the annual budget cycle and linked borrowing to specific sectors or projects. In all 11 countries, parliaments approve borrowing without access to comprehensive information on how those funds will be used or what development outcomes they are expected to deliver. Debt crises will continue to recur if governments continue to borrow without telling oversight bodies or the public how they’re borrowing, why or on what terms.

Debt transparency alone will not solve the debt crisis unless it is matched by accountability and smarter financing choices.

Domestic constituencies who live with the consequences of debt decisions should be at the heart of accountability efforts – this includes children. Legal frameworks should mandate governments to release information about who is responsible for debt decisions, what is counted as debt, what it is being used for and what tradeoffs were considered. Governments should embed debt and fiscal sustainability information into the budget process so that there can be regular scrutiny by oversight bodies. Legislators, national auditors and independent legislative bodies need technical support and mandates to deliver informed and accessible analysis of the long-term fiscal implications and risks of these decisions. That analysis must also be accessible to the public. Equipping civil society groups so that they are better able to engage with debt information and better understand how these seemingly esoteric decisions ultimately impact their health centers, schools and children, must be part of any debt accountability agenda. These accountability levers are critical to ensure debt fuels development instead of holding it back, and that public spending choices reflect the rights and needs of children.

We also need financing solutions to address the current emergency and these efforts should support rather than displace domestic accountability. The SDG bond of the Government of Benin has shown that debt instruments linked to social outcomes and public reporting are already working. Debt is not inherently the enemy of development, but must be borrowed transparently, invested productively and subject to public scrutiny. Debt relief frameworks must catch up with reality: as sovereign debt shifts toward private, foreign-currency creditors existing restructuring mechanisms leave too many countries without meaningful relief. Reforming the legal frameworks that govern sovereign debt contracts is long overdue.

The Sevilla Commitment, adopted by leaders at the Fourth International Conference on Financing for Development, underscored the value of pursuing these options and the importance of prioritizing investments in children. The High-level Political Forum should address how new financing options can avoid opacity by requiring governments to report to legislatures and the public how funds are used and by supporting civil society to track whether resources deliver tangible results.

When decisions with lifelong consequences are made behind closed doors, children inevitably lose first, and longest. We must use all the tools at our disposal to address the debt crisis and demand accountability to ensure public money works for all, especially for children and future generations.

Ana Patricia Muñoz is Executive Director, International Budget Partnership; George Laryea-Adjei is Director of Global Programme Division, UNICEF

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A child's painting of a fawn at the Conference Centre of Samarkand, where the Eighth GEF Assembly was held last month. The Bukhara deer, a species once pushed to the edge of survival by habitat loss and poaching, are now protected and introduced to the Zarafshan National Nature Park. Credit: ISD/ENB | Danny Skilton

By Kizito Makoye
SAMARKAND, Uzbekistan, Jul 7 2026 (IPS)

For most of the Eighth Global Environmental Facility (GEF) Assembly last month, the atmosphere inside Samarkand’s sprawling Congress Centre echoed a growing confidence of global environmental policymakers.

Delegates darted between plenary halls and side events discussing biodiversity targets, climate adaptation and ecosystem restoration. PowerPoint charts displayed shrinking forests. Investment bankers touted new financing tools. Smartly dressed bartenders served coffee in perfect air-conditioned comfort.

Yet despite this spectre of environmental diplomacy, a hard question lingered: How to mobilise private money when public coffers can no longer provide?

To many, the answer was blended finance.

The question became even more tangible on a humid Saturday morning when a group of delegates boarded low-emission coaches to Zarafshan National Nature Park on the outskirts of the ancient Silk Road city.

The excursion, many delegates later affirmed, offered a glimpse of a successful conservation model.

Walking through one of Central Asia’s surviving tugai forests – a riverside ecosystem that once stretched across much of the region – delegates witnessed the recovery of the Bukhara deer, a species once pushed to the edge of survival by habitat loss and poaching.

Wide-eyed delegates watched as rangers briskly hurled bundles of fresh forage, while several deer emerged from the reeds with the ease of animals that had learned to trust their caretakers.

A ranger works in an enclosure at the Zarafshan National Natural Park, one of Uzbekistan’s newest protected areas established to conserve the fragile riparian forests of the Zarafshan River and recover threatened wildlife, including the iconic Bukhara deer. The park illustrates the type of landscape where blended finance could help bridge funding gaps for ecosystem restoration, sustainable tourism and community livelihoods, provided investments deliver measurable conservation outcomes. Credit: Kizito Makoye/IPS

For conservationists, the scene was a tangible sign of ecological recovery in a parched Uzbek steppe. For financiers, it carried a different meaning—evidence that restoration requires sustained investment long after donor attention has shifted elsewhere.

That tension – between ecological reality and financial logic – ran through nearly every conversation in Samarkand, where the GEF’s Eighth Assembly signalled a deeper shift toward blended finance as a core conservation funding model.

The GEF’s new replenishment cycle, dubbed GEF-9, will secure at least $3.9 billion in donor commitments through 2030. But the more consequential shift lies in its architecture, with a target of using roughly a quarter of the resources to crowd in private capital alongside public and concessional finance.

GEF officials explain that the institution’s approach differs from other blended finance initiatives by targeting only investments where markets have clearly failed.

“It is worth stating clearly at the outset that GEF’s own approach to blended finance has been deliberately targeted and highly catalytic,” Avril Benchimol, Senior Blended Finance Specialist at the GEF, told IPS. “By design, GEF’s concessional resources have been directed at transactions where market failure is demonstrable – frontier areas such as circular economy, nature-based solutions, conservation finance, and sustainable agriculture in challenging markets where private capital does not flow without a catalytic push.”

Samuel Wangwe, senior researcher at the Economic and Social Research Foundation, said this shift towards more blended finance initiatives reflects a broader transformation in development thinking.

“Blended finance is essentially an attempt to stretch scarce public resources further by bringing in private capital. That logic is understandable in today’s fiscal environment, but it does not remove the underlying development constraints that many countries face,” he said.

The logic is rooted in a fiscal reality widely acknowledged across development finance institutions: public budgets are insufficient to meet global environmental needs, with annual financing gaps for biodiversity and climate resilience running into hundreds of billions of dollars.

Blended finance is intended to bridge that gap by using public capital to absorb early-stage risk, improving the risk-return profile of projects that would not be viable for commercial investors.

A park ranger guides delegates through one of Uzbekistan’s protected landscapes, explaining ongoing conservation and restoration efforts. The visit highlighted how long-term biodiversity protection depends not only on strong environmental policies but also on innovative financing mechanisms capable of attracting private capital while safeguarding public conservation objectives. Credit: Kizito Makoye/IPS

But Wangwe warned that the effectiveness of this model depends heavily on institutional strength.

“You cannot financialise ecosystems without strong governance systems. Where land rights are unclear or enforcement is weak, the risk does not disappear—it is simply priced differently, often at a higher cost to the country.”

The timing reflects broader strain in global public finance. Many donor governments face rising debt burdens, domestic political pressures and competing priorities from defence to healthcare. Development assistance budgets, once expected to expand alongside climate commitments, are instead substantially shrinking.

In that constrained environment, multilateral institutions are under pressure to demonstrate leverage – how much private capital can be mobilised per unit of public spending. As a result, blended finance has shifted from a niche development tool to a central pillar of environmental action, offering policymakers a politically palatable narrative: scarce public funds are not being reduced, but multiplied.

Wangwe, however, cautioned against over-reliance on this narrative.

“There is a tendency now to focus on how much money can be leveraged, rather than how effectively institutions can absorb and manage that investment. But without institutional depth, leverage becomes a hollow metric.”

GEF argues that its own experience suggests carefully structured concessional finance can mobilise substantially larger private investment than broader market averages.

“The concern about additionality is legitimate at the system level, and GEF takes it seriously as part of the broader conversation,” Benchimol said.

“GEF’s own mobilisation ratios have consistently outperformed the [market] average, in part because of the deliberate application of a minimum concessionality principle—using only as much concessional support as is necessary to make a transaction viable, and no more.”

Yet the promise of scale masks a more selective reality. Institutional investors – pension funds, insurers and asset managers – do not allocate capital based on environmental urgency. They respond to predictable revenue streams and manageable risk.

That distinction matters. Renewable energy projects increasingly fit that profile, offering long-term contracts and stable cash flows. Many conservation activities do not.

Ecosystem restoration, biodiversity protection and watershed management often generate public goods that are difficult to monetise. A restored forest may reduce carbon emissions and stabilise rainfall patterns, but it does not always produce direct financial returns.

As a result, blended finance works best where environmental projects can be partially ‘financialised’ – through carbon credits, ecotourism revenues or infrastructure-linked returns. Pure conservation projects remain harder to structure in bankable form.

Nowhere is this mismatch more visible than in Africa. The continent holds some of the world’s most critical biodiversity assets, from the Congo Basin to East Africa’s savannahs, yet continues to attract a relatively small share of global private environmental finance.

Contrary to common assumptions, the binding constraint is not global liquidity. Trillions of dollars sit in institutional portfolios seeking yield.

As Wangwe put it, “Africa is not short of opportunities. It is short of bankable structures that meet investor expectations. That gap is not technical alone—it is institutional and political.”

The result is a structural imbalance: countries with stronger institutions attract disproportionate flows of blended finance, while those facing the most severe environmental degradation remain dependent on grants and concessional funding.

GEF acknowledges that imbalance remains a genuine weakness of blended finance globally.

“The GEF fully shares the concern that blended finance instruments have not always reached the countries and communities with the greatest need,” Benchimol said.

“The concentration of blended finance flows in middle-income and relatively more bankable markets is a documented challenge, and addressing it is a priority as GEF shapes its future programming.”

This dynamic brings governance to the centre of the debate. Blended finance does not eliminate institutional risk; it re-prices it.

Guarantees, first-loss capital and concessional tranches can improve project economics, but they cannot substitute for credible legal systems or stable regulatory frameworks.

In practice, blended finance tends to cluster in environments where governance already functions relatively well. Where institutions are weaker, transaction costs rise and investor appetite declines.

That creates an uncomfortable implication: the places most in need of environmental investment are often the least able to attract it.

Wangwe added that this dynamic risks deepening inequality in conservation finance.

“If local communities are only seen as beneficiaries rather than stakeholders in financial structures, then blended finance risks repeating the same extractive patterns we have seen in other sectors, just under a greener label.”

GEF says future financing models must become far more country-led.

“Equity in blended finance requires genuine country ownership and voice—ensuring that recipient governments are partners in the design of financial structures rather than passive recipients of externally defined solutions,” Benchimol said.

Beyond technical design lies a more political question: who ultimately controls environmental assets as they become financialised?

Blended finance structures distribute risk and returns among governments, investors and local communities. But those distributions are not neutral.

Critics warn that conservation could increasingly resemble an investment class, where financial returns flow outward while ecological and social costs remain local.

“There is a risk that conservation becomes an asset class without community ownership,” Wangwe said. “That would replicate extractive dynamics under a green label.”

Despite its market-orientated framing, blended finance does not reduce the role of public institutions. It reconfigures it.

Governments and development agencies continue to provide first-loss capital, guarantees, project preparation funding and regulatory support. Without these interventions, most blended-finance transactions would not be viable.

Public finance, in other words, is not replaced – it is embedded deeper in deal structures, even as its presence becomes less visible in headline figures.

Wangwe stressed that this reality is often overlooked.

“The idea that private capital will replace public finance is misleading. In reality, public money is doing more of the heavy lifting than the rhetoric suggests – it is just now embedded deeper in the transaction structure.”

That raises a critical risk: if public spending is cut on the assumption that private capital will fill the gap, the entire model could weaken.

Closing the assembly, GEF interim CEO Claude Gascon noted that the model relies on cooperation and shared purpose.

He stressed the GEF was built on the understanding that no one can meet global environmental challenges alone and that it brings together countries, conventions, IPLCs, civil society, the private sector, and other stakeholders to deliver global environmental benefits.

“We need banks, institutional investors, corporations, and innovators to engage at a fundamentally different level. We need them not only to finance transition but also to shape it responsibly. We need business models that reward stewardship, not short-term extraction; disclosure and accountability systems that value long-term resilience; and governance frameworks that make environmental performance central to business success. The private sector has extraordinary reach, influence, and ingenuity. But with that influence comes responsibility.”

Back in Zarafshan National Nature Park, the Bukhara deer eventually retreated into the reeds as the delegation prepared to leave. The moment was brief, almost incidental, yet it underscored a central contradiction in global environmental finance.

Capital can accelerate conservation outcomes. It can reduce risk, improve coordination and expand funding. But it cannot substitute for the institutional and ecological conditions that determine whether recovery endures.

As delegates returned to Samarkand, optimism about blended finance remained intact. So did its central uncertainty.

For Africa, Wangwe argued, the challenge is not simply attracting investment but building the systems that can sustain it.

“The real test is not the volume of private investment mobilised, but whether ecosystems are restored, livelihoods are protected, and institutions are strengthened enough to sustain those gains beyond donor cycles.”

Despite the uncertainties, GEF says it intends to deepen – not scale back – its use of blended finance.

“GEF-9 is targeting 25% of GEF Trust Fund resources for blended finance, signalling a deliberate scaling of this approach – grounded in the conviction that blended finance, when properly structured and targeted, is not a subsidy for investments that markets would have made anyway, but a catalytic lever for investments that would not have happened at all,” Benchimol said.

The success of GEF-9 will therefore not be measured by how much private capital is mobilised but by where it flows – and whether it translates into lasting ecological recovery.

Note: This feature is published with the support of the GEF. IPS is solely responsible for the editorial content, and it does not necessarily reflect the views of the GEF.

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CARICOM Heads of Government during the opening ceremony of the 51st Regular Meeting of the Conference of Heads of Government of the Caribbean Community in Gros Islet, Saint Lucia, on July 5, 2026. Credit: Alison Kentish/IPS

By Alison Kentish
GROS ISLET, Saint Lucia , Jul 6 2026 (IPS)

Caribbean leaders are meeting in Saint Lucia for their annual summit, confronting a convergence of global and regional challenges ranging from rising living costs and climate change to crime, food security and geopolitical tensions.

The 51st Regular Meeting of the Conference of Heads of Government of the Caribbean Community (CARICOM), the regional organisation that promotes economic integration, coordinates foreign policy and fosters cooperation among its 15 member states, runs until Wednesday.

Leaders are expected to discuss regional security, climate resilience, economic integration, trade, migration, food and water security and emerging technologies such as artificial intelligence.

The country’s Prime Minister Philip J. Pierre assumed the grouping’s rotating chairmanship.

He said he was taking over at a time of “profound uncertainty”, with Caribbean people feeling the effects of international instability in their daily lives.

“Our people feel these pressures every day,” Pierre said during the conference’s opening ceremony, citing the rising cost of food and energy, worsening climate impacts and growing concerns about crime and public safety.

He told the gathering that his six-month chairmanship would focus on ensuring regional integration delivers tangible benefits for Caribbean citizens rather than remaining confined to official meetings and declarations.

“Our people are asking a serious and legitimate question: What more can CARICOM do for me?” Pierre said. “We must make integration work for the ordinary citizen.”

The Saint Lucian leader outlined priorities that included strengthening regional unity, advancing the CARICOM Single Market and Economy, improving food and nutrition security, addressing violent crime and illegal firearms, expanding transportation links, increasing access to climate finance and developing a coordinated regional approach to artificial intelligence.

He also called for stronger support for young people, women, people with disabilities and other groups that have historically faced barriers to opportunity.

Pierre renewed CARICOM’s call for climate justice, arguing that Caribbean nations contribute little to global greenhouse gas emissions while bearing a disproportionate share of climate impacts. He urged the international community to expand access to climate finance, loss-and-damage funding and debt relief mechanisms that better reflect the vulnerability of small island developing states.

The summit comes as Caribbean governments continue to navigate the economic effects of global conflicts, supply chain disruptions and inflation while confronting increasingly severe hurricanes, prolonged droughts and other climate-related disasters that disproportionately affect small island developing states.

CARICOM Secretary-General Carla Barnett said the region’s founders envisioned cooperation as a practical response to external pressures.

“Then, as now, external factors and influences put at risk the vision of regional integration,” Barnett said, adding that leaders must accelerate implementation of long-standing regional commitments, particularly within the CARICOM Single Market and Economy.

Barnett pointed to progress in expanding the free movement of skilled workers, increasing agricultural production under the region’s food security strategy and strengthening international partnerships but said much work remains to implement agreed regional measures fully.

Outgoing CARICOM Chairman, Prime Minister of St Kitts and Nevis, Terrance Drew said his tenure reinforced the importance of unity during a period marked by global uncertainty, climate threats and questions about regional cohesion.

“The question is no longer whether CARICOM will survive,” Drew said. “The question now is how we strengthen CARICOM for the next generation.”

He said Caribbean governments had continued working together on food security, climate resilience, regional security, Haiti, reparatory justice and international diplomacy despite mounting external pressures.

Founded by the Treaty of Chaguaramas on July 4, 1973, CARICOM promotes economic integration, coordinated foreign policy and functional cooperation among its member states. The organisation now comprises 15 member states and seven associate members and works across areas including climate change, agriculture, education, health, security, trade, transportation and sustainable development.

This year’s meeting is being held under the theme ‘People, Partnerships, Prosperity: Promoting a Secure and Sustainable Future’. Leaders will continue discussions through July 8 before issuing a final communiqué expected to outline decisions on regional security, climate resilience, economic integration and other priorities identified during the conference.

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Credit: Connie France/AFP

By Inés M. Pousadela
MONTEVIDEO, Uruguay, Jul 3 2026 (IPS)

Right-wing candidate Keiko Fujimori has won Peru’s presidential runoff, narrowly defeating leftist Roberto Sánchez to become the country’s ninth president in a decade. She inherits a system so engineered for dysfunction that rather than making compromises, she may decide the concentration of power is her only means of survival. The constitution that created this trap was written by her father.

A system built to fail

Keiko, daughter of authoritarian former president Alberto Fujimori, has finally succeeded in her fourth consecutive runoff, having lost in 2011, 2016 and 2021. She won with a margin of roughly a quarter of a percentage point over a candidate who is a close ally of jailed former president Pedro Castillo. Both sides alleged fraud, filed claims and sent their supporters onto the streets.

Peru is often described as a democracy without parties. The party system disintegrated in the 1990s and was never rebuilt. In its place came a sequence of improvised candidacies and personal electoral vehicles that rise and fall with their founders. For the first-round vote on 12 April, the largest ballot paper in Peru’s history listed 35 candidates. Fujimori came first with just 17.19 per cent. Ultimately, most Peruvians didn’t vote for either candidate who made the runoff. A president elected on that basis has a mandate so weak that rivals can dispute it from day one, and they do.

Congressional seats scatter across dozens of parties, none of which dominates. But parties can combine to reach the two-thirds threshold needed to invoke a constitutional clause to impeach and remove a president on the grounds of ‘permanent moral incapacity’, a mechanism Peru’s constitution leaves deliberately vague. The Congress elected in 2021 removed three presidents in one term.

Authoritarian incentives

The constitutional mechanism that enables political instability is the reason Fujimori’s presidency could be dangerous. As she enters office with a razor-thin margin and no congressional majority, she faces an immediate strategic choice. She can seek compromise with her opponents, but this might signal that the threat of impeachment works, inviting it. Or she can move to concentrate power and weaken the institutions that constrain the executive, denying her opponents the tools they could use to remove her.

Everything points towards the second option. Most presidents recently removed by Congress were, at the time of their removal, attempting to govern within the rules, and the rules were weaponised against them. Pedro Castillo tried a different approach, dissolving Congress pre-emptively to forestall his impeachment. He was immediately arrested and removed. A politician who has watched this dynamic consume eight predecessors might conclude that the only way to survive is to change the game.

Keiko’s father ruled Peru from 1990 to 2000 as an elected president who progressively dismantled the institutions that constrained him. Two years into his first term, citing the simultaneous crises of hyperinflation and insurgency, he dissolved Congress and suspended the constitution. The emergency was real, but it was also an opportunity. Fujimori rewrote the constitution to entrench executive power, won re-election in 1995 and then won a fraud-tainted third term before being forced from office within months. His government became synonymous with grand corruption and human rights atrocities, including the forced sterilisation of over 272,000 mostly Indigenous women. After he was forced out in 2000, he was convicted of homicide and kidnapping, and imprisoned.

The constitution Alberto Fujimori wrote to entrench his power is still in force. The moral incapacity clause that the 1993 constitution retained – useful to Fujimori when he controlled Congress – has become the primary weapon congressional majorities have used to remove president after president. The most significant recent constitutional change, the reinstatement of a two-chamber Congress, may end up increasing congressional power. This is the system Keiko now has to deal with.

The costs of dysfunction

Peru’s dysfunction has long been sustained by a comforting fiction: that while politics is chaotic, the economy runs itself. Macro fundamentals have remained relatively stable. Inflation in 2025 ran at around 1.5 per cent, and the economy grew 3.4 per cent in 2024. But economic growth has roughly halved over a decade of turmoil. Poverty, at 27.6 per cent in 2024, remains above pre-pandemic levels. Homicides stand at 10.7 per 100,000 people, alongside an epidemic of extortion.

Freedoms are deteriorating and those who protest pay the highest price. In 2025, attempts to change the pension system triggered Gen Z-led protests that quickly expressed broader anger at corruption, insecurity and political dysfunction. Security forces responded with violence. In December 2024, the CIVICUS Monitor, which tracks civic space conditions globally, downgraded Peru to repressed status, its second-worst rating, citing years of escalating state violence and the systematic harassment of human rights defenders and journalists, who political figures routinely smear as terrorists and traitors.

In March 2025, Congress passed a law giving the Peruvian Agency for International Cooperation extensive powers to control, censor and persecute civil society organisations that receive foreign funding, threatening fines of up to US$720,000 and criminalising any use of foreign funds to support legal action against the Peruvian state. It is, in effect, a law against accountability.

Danger ahead

Keiko Fujimori ran a law-and-order campaign under the slogan ‘Fujimori returns, order returns’, casting the fight against organised crime as a sequel to her father’s 1990s war against insurgency and promising mass deployments of police and military forces. Her party championed a 2025 amnesty law shielding security forces and civilian armed groups from prosecution for disappearances, killings and torture during that conflict, in direct defiance of the Inter-American Court of Human Rights. Keiko has been evasive about her father’s atrocities and has recast human rights as a matter of access to basic services rather than accountability for past abuses. Her record offers no grounds for optimism about civic space or democratic norms.

Keiko’s father justified breaking the rules that constrained him by pointing to insurgency and economic collapse. Keiko faces no insurgency and no hyperinflation, so if she moves to concentrate power, she will have to find her own justification, perhaps in a crime wave, a security emergency or a conspiracy of her enemies. The Fujimorist playbook could come back with a vengeance.

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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UN Secretary-General António Guterres (left) and Volker Türk, United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights (right). They have called for the universal abolition of the death penalty. Credit: UN Photo/Violaine Martin

By Shuli Wong
UNITED NATIONS, Jul 3 2026 (IPS)

While the movement for the universal abolition of the death penalty advances, this progress “cannot be taken for granted,” said UN Secretary-General António Guterres as he greeted the 9th World Congress Against the Death Penalty.

In his video message, Mr. Guterres said, “the death penalty does not deliver justice. It is an inhumane form of punishment. It puts innocent lives at risk. And it has no place in the 21st century.” Worldwide, the push for abolition has gained momentum, with the Secretary-General reaffirming the UN’s full commitment to universal abolition “firmly and without exception.”

The 9th World Congress Against the Death Penalty, taking place in Paris between June 30th and July 2, 2026, convenes governments, UN officials, legal professionals, journalists, and activists to discuss concrete steps to reform and ultimately abolish the death penalty. The Congress is organised by ECPM (Together Against the Death Penalty), a leading French NGO that began campaigning for universal abolition in 2000 and has organised all 9 World Congresses Against the Death Penalty. The Congress is sponsored by France, and the European Union and Switzerland are co-sponsors.

At the opening of the 9th World Congress Against the Death Penalty, the UN Human Rights Commissioner, Volker Türk, further underscored the UN’s staunch position on universal abolition. In his opening remarks, Volker Türk urged “all States, everywhere, to join the overwhelming, and principled, global consensus that use of the death penalty must end, everywhere, for all offenses.”

France’s president, Emmanuel Macron, mirrored Mr. Türk’s remarks, speaking at the Congress to the fact that “the death penalty has never made a society safer.”

“Never, because it does not act as a deterrent. It’s crazy. It has been demonstrated, observed and measured. The death penalty has never had the deterrent effect that certain, often authoritarian, authorities who defend it would like to attribute to it,” said Macron.

Prior to the start of the Congress, the European Union (EU) put forth a statement to the UN Human Rights Council on June 18, highlighting how capital punishment is a discriminatory practice that violates the inalienable right to life. The statement stressed how the death penalty is incompatible with human dignity and called for a moratorium by states as the first step towards abolition.

The EU Statement reiterates the key points from a May 21st statement from 41 Members of the Inter-Regional Task Force on the Moratorium on the use of the Death Penalty. While more than two-thirds of UN member states have abolished the death penalty in law or in practice, there has been a recent and significant increase in executions among the few retentionist states. The signatories of the statement emphasized how the 9th World Congress Against the Death Penalty represents an immense opportunity to reaffirm the global commitment to universal abolition.

Within the retentionist states, recent data from the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) highlights an alarming spike in capital punishment. These increases were due to executions for drug-related violations for crimes that people committed as children and offences that did not meet the ‘most serious crimes’ criteria. Examples of actions by retentionist states include Iran, with over 1,500 individuals executed in 2025, 47 percent of which related to drug offences. Israel, which has set forth a series of legislative proposals introducing mandatory capital punishment provisions that would apply only to Palestinians. Other countries, including the United States, Somalia and Singapore, have also seen increases in executions.

While these numbers are startling, there has been immense progress towards abolition. 170 countries have either abolished or introduced a moratorium on the death penalty in law and/or in practice. Some states that have not yet fully abolished the death penalty but have taken encouraging steps to limit capital punishment include Vietnam, Pakistan, Zimbabwe, Kenya, Malaysia, and Kyrgyzstan.

These trends confirm that abolition is a core testament of the international community’s commitment to human rights and upholding international law. The International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, which has been ratified by 175 states, guarantees the “inherent right to life” and that the death penalty may “be imposed only for the most serious crimes in accordance with the law” for the countries that have not yet abolished it. The 9th World Congress Against the Death Penalty presents an opportunity to take concrete steps towards the path of abolition, with the full support of the UN and Secretary-General António Guterres behind the Congress.

IPS UN Bureau Report

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Collective care should not be reduced to practices that merely keep us strong enough to survive hostile conditions. Collective care should also make us question, resist, and transform the very systems of power that generate harm. Credit: Humanis

By Nisrina Nadhifah Rahman
Jul 2 2026 (IPS)

“To respect strength, never power” is one of my favorite quotes from the acclaimed writer and activist, Arundhati Roy. For years, this quote has stayed with me. It encourages a way of life grounded in compassion rather than dominance.

It was particularly on my mind as I returned from the June 2026 Digital Rights Asia-Pacific Assembly (DRAPAC26) in Manila, an annual forum organized by EngageMedia. Co-hosted by local partners, the Foundation for Media Alternatives (FMA) and DAKILA, it brought together more than 800 digital rights practitioners, researchers, funders, journalists, technologists, and activists from across the Asia-Pacific region.

But my participation in DRAPAC started long before I arrived in Manila. Throughout the first half of 2026, through the Connect, Defend, Act! program, I had been engaging with civil society actors at workshops held across different regions.

Moving in harmony with one another

During a session on collective care at one of them, we asked if abstract principles like human rights, solidarity, resilience, and collective care could be translated into concrete care practices. If so, what would that look like?

One group responded with a local expression: “Na Pada Ajong Ta.” It means to move in harmony with one another, walking side by side and sharing a common rhythm.

I was instantly struck by the phrase.

AI outputs are shaped not only by data, but also by the social, political, and economic structures that determine whose knowledge is collected, whose views and experiences are prioritized, and whose realities are ignored

We are constantly being told to “unite” by both figures of authority and agents of change. But what they want is us to move in the same direction, at the same pace, and with the same voice. Yet perhaps what we need is something closer to “Na Pada Ajong Ta,” walking side by side without marching in lockstep.

Resilience is important, but so is interrogating power

The DRAPAC Assembly took me back to these questions about power, accountability, humanity, and collective care, especially in the discussions on how we frame activists and human rights defenders.

An important discussion revolved around the growing glorification of the “resilience” of activists and human rights defenders. Stories of sacrifice, adaptation, and perseverance are often presented as inspiring accounts of brave individuals fighting for justice in increasingly challenging environments.

Yet I found myself wondering: What happens when resilience becomes an unquestioned virtue? What if our admiration for people’s endurance blinds us to the systems that oppress them? Or traps us in a worldview that celebrates those strong enough to endure, while those who struggle or fall behind are quietly left to fend for themselves?

So, interrogating power in conversations about resilience also means challenging a narrow understanding of collective care. It should not be reduced to practices that merely keep us strong enough to survive hostile conditions. Collective care should also make us question, resist, and transform the very systems of power that generate harm.

AI (just like any other technology) is never neutral

Throughout DRAPAC, countless sessions explored different dimensions of Artificial Intelligence (AI). For me, the most interesting ones treated AI as a political development.

One recurring insight was that AI outputs are shaped by far more than users’ prompts. They are also influenced by invisible system prompts, training datasets, institutional priorities, commercial interests, and political decisions embedded within the technology itself.

In other words, AI reflects the values, assumptions, and most importantly, the power relations built into it.

One of the most well-known principles in computer programming is the phrase “Garbage In, Garbage Out” (GIGO). At its simplest, the principle suggests that the quality of an output depends on the quality of the input.

But after the discussions at DRAPAC, I have come to see GIGO as more than a technical principle. It is also a political one. “Garbage In, Garbage Out” is ultimately a question of power. AI outputs are shaped not only by data, but also by the social, political, and economic structures that determine whose knowledge is collected, whose views and experiences are prioritized, and whose realities are ignored.

The power of the attention economy

Writer and scholar Alfie Bown’s 2022 book, Dream Lovers: The Gamification of Relationships, explores how human desires are increasingly shaped to suit certain economic and political agendas, creating a profound dependency on algorithm-driven technology.

At DRAPAC’s “Algorithm Anonymous” session, we also explored how digital platforms are actually systems of control designed to both capture attention and influence habits, desires, and emotional attachments.

We started off by acknowledging that our choices, behaviors, and things we pay attention to online are often shaped by algorithms. And we examined the deceptive design tricks used by websites and apps that get users to do things they hadn’t planned to, like buying something, sharing more data, or signing up for services.

Then we reflected on how social media, fitness applications, and health platforms create validation loops that encourage continuous engagement, often treating privacy and user agency as an afterthought.

The many forms power takes

As I left DRAPAC, I couldn’t help but think that Arundhati Roy’s reminder to “respect strength, never power,” is perhaps not enough. Because strength, much like power, also has layers that need to be scrutinized and questioned. And while doing so, we also need to re-examine our own roles and individual social and political identities.

We must be clear on where we stand in relation to the systems and structures around us. That doesn’t mean to stop questioning power, but to remain curious about the many forms it takes, including those we may have internalized without realizing it.

 
CIVICUS discusses Mexico’s enforced disappearance crisis with Angélica Orozco, a member of Fuerzas Unidas por Nuestros Desaparecidos en Nuevo León (FUNDENL), a collective of relatives of disappeared people and people who support them. Since 2012, FUNDENL has been searching for the disappeared and documenting the human rights crisis.

Angélica Orozco

What are your demands?

There are over 133,000 people missing in Mexico. To put this into perspective, the disappeared would fill the stadium where four World Cup matches are being played in Monterrey almost two and a half times over. You could put together over 5,100 football teams, and it would take 107 World Cups to see them all play. The UN warns that only about two in 10 of these crimes are reported, so the actual figure could be much higher.

We have been searching by every means possible for nearly 15 years, with almost no support, using our own resources. We have written books, occupied public squares, organised protests and taken part in conferences. The World Cup is yet another opportunity to raise global awareness of the humanitarian crisis caused by enforced disappearances. As the world’s attention is now focused on Canada, Mexico and the USA, we want everyone to know about our struggle.

We are not against football. We are simply asking that the authorities search for our loved ones, bring them home and ensure that no one else is disappeared. For this to happen, prevention is key. When FUNDENL detects recurring cases in an area, we issue alerts to the public. It’s a simple step that the authorities, who have first-hand information, should be taking but are not. They should also enforce the laws and protocols we already have, thanks to the struggle of families and campaign groups. The law mandates a national register of missing persons, but the existing one is incomplete, with misspelt names and duplicate entries. The law also requires search and investigation plans to be drawn up, yet these do not exist.

We simply want the government to do its job. Instead, it’s investing millions in the World Cup to give the impression that everything is fine, while the search for the disappeared continues to receive neither the attention nor the necessary resources. It should work to find the disappeared with the same dedication it has put into organising this tournament.

To this end, we are holding various protests in the host cities. We have translated our slogan, ‘Where are they?’, into 10 languages: the eight languages of the countries visiting Monterrey, plus English and Chinese. Using AI, we have dressed 21 missing people in the Mexican national team’s shirt and called them ‘Mexico’s national team’, because that’s the team the authorities don’t want to see. We’ve also played street football matches in solidarity and put up over 150 photographs of missing people outside the stadium in Monterrey.

How have authorities responded?

The response has been deplorable. Instead of addressing our demands, the state criminalises and stigmatises victims. In Mexico City, there was a heavy police presence to contain the marches. The Secretary of the Interior cast doubt on the funding for the families’ journey from Jalisco to the capital and announced she would investigate the source of the funds. It was an absurd insinuation. We have always organised ourselves using our own resources, precisely because the state has never supported us.

President Claudia Sheinbaum also played down the significance of the protests. She even went so far as to say, amidst laughter, that there were more staff from the search commissions and victim support services than protesters. For us, it’s not about numbers, but about our 133,000 loved ones who are no longer with us. These are people with families, homes and lives that were snatched away from them.

We’d hoped that this government, which prided itself on being progressive, would be different. It wasn’t to be. The first sign was clear. In her inaugural speech, President Sheinbaum made no mention of the disappeared or their families. She’s said so herself: what’s not named doesn’t exist. She’s never met with the families. Like previous governments, it seems she prefers to ignore this humanitarian crisis.

The determination to conceal this reality is evident. Here in Nuevo León, the governor put up tarpaulins in poor neighbourhoods to hide the poverty. He placed giant planters in front of the Square of the Disappeared, which we occupied in 2014, so the faces of our loved ones couldn’t be seen from the street. We protested and stuck their photographs on the planters, and the next day we got the government to remove them.

On that square, we had written a sign on the pavement that read ‘130,000 disappeared’. Against the backdrop of the World Cup, we went back to refresh the paint and update the figure to include a further 3,000 who have gone missing since. The effect was immediate. Some people from Sweden who were visiting the city came over to ask us for more information.

What makes these enforced disappearances?

For a disappearance to be considered enforced, there must be state involvement, whether direct or indirect. And such involvement exists, even if Sheinbaum wishes to deny it.

There isn’t always a video proving it was a public official who took a person away, but there are omissions that prove it. An official who fails to request call records in time, for example, becomes an accomplice, because that information is key to the search, but it’s only kept for two years, and if it isn’t requested before the deadline, it’s lost forever.

In many cases, there’s direct involvement. There have been instances where men wearing municipal police vests have taken people away and cases where traffic police intervened in a road accident and the people involved subsequently disappeared. The constant is that the evidence implicating them always vanishes.

Added to this is the state’s refusal to acknowledge the crisis. It’s like with illnesses. If you don’t recognise you have one, you can’t cure it. That also makes them responsible.

We are not the only ones saying this. The UN Committee on Enforced Disappearances has recognised the gravity of the situation and referred the case to the General Assembly.

Who are the victims and who is responsible?

Anyone can be made to disappear, in everyday circumstances. Some people have disappeared on their way home, or while popping out for a soft drink, or following a road accident.

Nuevo León is the state with the fifth-highest number of missing persons in Mexico, with over 7,000. Between January and May this year, a further 433 people went missing – an average of three a day – and around 70 per cent have still not been found.

If we are disappeared, it’s because the conditions for this to happen exist. The main one is impunity. Out of over 133,000 missing people, only 3,869 have an investigation file open, according to government figures. That’s almost absolute impunity.

Nor are there any consequences for officials who fail to investigate. They are simply moved to a different post. The official who currently heads the Local Search Commission spent three decades in the public prosecutor’s office and is repeating the same practices in her new role. The current mayor of Monterrey was the state attorney-general during the most violent years. Instead of being punished for their failure to act, they appear to have been rewarded. The same applies to criminals. We have come across people responsible for crimes in 2010 and 2011 who are still at large and committing the same crimes years later.

As the state fails to take responsibility, we have taken it upon ourselves to search for our missing loved ones, and what we have found is appalling. In Nuevo León, we have reported the existence of 10 extermination camps. In one of them, Las Abejas, we found over 250,000 fragments of human remains and more than 100 DNA profiles. This means 100 people haven’t returned home. There are also over 3,000 unidentified bodies and remains in mass graves in Nuevo León and over 70,000 across Mexico. Figures like these cannot be reached without a system set up to make people disappear with the complicity of the authorities.

What are you asking of the international community?

We ask our international visitors to turn their attention to this crisis, learn about our missing loved ones, show solidarity and help us search for them, because we don’t know whether any of them have been taken out of the country. We also ask them to take this demand to their governments, so they can add to the pressure on the Mexican authorities.

Pressure matters. That’s why we welcome the decision of the UN Committee on Enforced Disappearances. When it was made public, the Mexican state rejected it and treated it as an attack, rather than engaging with it.

Enforced disappearance is a crime against humanity. When someone is disappeared, they are torn away from their family and their entire community. That’s why we appeal to humanity: no person, anywhere in the world, should be made to disappear. As long as disappearances continue, we will not live in complete peace or democracy.

CIVICUS interviews a wide range of civil society activists, experts and leaders to gather diverse perspectives on civil society action and current issues for publication on its CIVICUS Lens platform. The views expressed in interviews are the interviewees’ and do not necessarily reflect those of CIVICUS. Publication does not imply endorsement of interviewees or the organisations they represent.

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Solidarity World Cup CIVICUS
World Cup: ‘FIFA has placed itself on the side of the polluters, not the rest of the planet’ CIVICUS Lens | Interview with Frank Huisingh 15.Jun.2026
The disappeared: Mexico’s industrial-scale human rights crisis CIVICUS Lens 22.Apr.2025

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UN Deputy Secretary-General Amina J. Mohammed with Resident Coordinators from the Latin America and Caribbean region. Credit: United Nations

By Mohammed Chiraz Baly
GENEVA, Jul 2 2026 (IPS)

A letter to staff unions from economists working in the resident coordinator system, blows the whistle on a restructuring that could damage the development pillar and downgrade support to middle income countries.

For memory, UN resident coordinators are tasked with aligning the work of different UN agencies in 162 countries with respective government priorities.

Resident coordinators don’t have funds to get agencies to work together. They rely on their powers of persuasion and importantly, their office’s analytical and data handling capacity.

They therefore have a country economist, who provides evidence-based advice to the UN country team on improving development impact and helps mobilise financing from international financial institutions. These economists also represent non-resident agencies such as mine, UNCTAD, in discussions with the government. As agencies shut their country offices, this becomes more important.

The current system has existed since 2019 and the General Assembly has asked the Deputy Secretary-General, who oversees the system, for a review.

According to the letter (there is no other source of information as the process is a tightly-guarded secret), the proposal is a restructuring that, surprisingly, reduces analytical capacity resident coordinator offices in the over 100 middle income developing countries through a blanket downgrading of economist posts, undermining resident coordinators in the process.

There doesn’t seem to be an assessment in the rushed process of different countries’ circumstances nor the situations they’re going through.

It is not clear why middle-income countries, which constitute most UN member states, are being targeted and this appears to run counter to UN policy.

DESA has warned against abandoning support for middle income countries (https://lnkd.in/edKWFJgM) noting they “are a large and heterogenous group. They differ widely in their development needs and challenges, and in their capacity to mobilise domestic and external resources.”

Rebeca Grynspan has called out the middle-income country trap.

Last month the Secretary-General warned not to judge the challenges facing countries by GDP alone (https://lnkd.in/eaB85QFg).

Although, member states have already voiced concerns with the restructuring; it is being imposed regardless, and being rushed through before they can have a further say.

A large number of staff, originating from all regions, some recruited only last year, will therefore be removed from their posts, while UN support to and ability to mobilise financing for middle income countries will be reduced.

As the restructuring is cost-neutral, the savings from cutting staff in the field would appear to then provide more posts to regional offices and at senior level, and upgrade management posts.

The letter alleges an absence of meaningful consultation with unions and resident coordinators. In some countries, the entire cadre of international and national professional staff in a country could be replaced.

There is consensus that the resident coordinator system should be improved and we know resources are limited. It’s not clear though if downgrading substantive and analytical capacity is the right solution. Perhaps a more comprehensive assessment is needed, without the ticking clock of the end of mandate, so that the fragile development pillar isn’t damaged further.

Extracts from the letter are published below :

We write as economists serving in UN Resident Coordinator’s Offices across Standard, Complex, and Multi-Country settings. We come from different regions, work in countries spanning very different development contexts and income categories, and some of us started our careers as national officers. We raise these concerns in good faith and ask for a structured dialogue before the proposals are finalised.

1. The case for economic expertise in the RC system

The RCO economist provides analytical support independent of government preference and agency programming logic — on fiscal space, debt dynamics, structural transformation, SDG financing, and trade shocks. It draws on experience across multiple country contexts and IFI networks. The seniority of the posts matters: it enables credible engagement with finance ministers, private sector counterparts, and development finance institutions — the partnerships needed to mobilise SDG financing. Abolishing those posts removes that standing. At the ECOSOC OAS in June 2026, delegations spanning the G77, the African Group, AOSIS, India, Germany, Indonesia, Pakistan, Canada, the United States, and the Republic of Korea called explicitly for “strengthening capacities in strategic planning, economic analysis, SDG financing, data, digitalization, communications, climate and resilience.” The recalibration moves in the opposite direction, weeks after that mandate was given.

• The current moment is the wrong time to reduce analytical capacity. Countries face compounding pressures: COVID-19 structural aftereffects, Russia-Ukraine trade and energy disruptions, US-Iran escalation, and a fragmenting multilateral trading system. At the ECOSOC OAS, USG Li Junhua (DESA) noted ODA fell a record 23% in 2025 and the SDG financing gap stands above USD 4 trillion. Agency analytical capacity is simultaneously contracting: UNDP has abolished its economist programme for Africa and budgets and staffing have been cut across multiple entities. As agency footprints shrink, the RCO economist is often the only independent macroeconomic analyst the RC and host government can draw on.

• The Standard RCO category is a coordination label, not an economic complexity assessment. Across the 101 Standard RCO countries, analytical complexity does not track income category. DESA, UNCTAD, and the regional commissions have all cautioned against using GDP per capita as a proxy for development support needs. Applying that filter to determine where independent economic analysis is necessary is inconsistent with the UN’s own guidance.

• Adding senior headquarters posts while cutting country capacity contradicts a direct General Assembly mandate. The recalibration creates new D2 posts at headquarters and increases regional staffing. In December 2025, paragraph 16 of GA resolution A/C.5/80/L.4 requested the Secretary-General to include proposals “with the aim to reduce or reclassify the overall number of USG, ASG, D-2 and D-1 posts markedly” under UN80. Adding D2 posts at headquarters while abolishing and nationalising field posts moves in the opposite direction. Norway at the ECOSOC OAS stated this is “not the time to weaken” the RC system. Member States including AOSIS, Pakistan, Nepal, Indonesia, Canada, and Switzerland also questioned “whether expertise-on-demand can substitute for sustained presence.” It cannot. Cross-country policy and financing work requires continuity, institutional memory, and relationships — not episodic inputs from a regional hub.

• The recalibration contradicts UN 2.0 priorities and discards a recent investment in talent. Under UN 2.0, the Secretary-General prioritised data-driven decision-making — a competency assessed in recruiting these positions — and called for international staff mobility across headquarters, regional bodies, and the field. The RCO economist role was one of the few routes enabling that rotation. Converting posts to national roles closes it off. Several colleagues joined within the past 12 to 18 months on the basis of a clear signal that country-level analytical capacity was being strengthened. Reversing course without explanation wastes the investment and will deter future talent.

2. The analytical basis for this decision does not hold

The recalibration of 130 RCOs has been summarised on a single slide with four columns — no within-category differentiation, no country-specific analysis, no assessment of capacity lost in any specific setting. The UN80 Staff Support Policy Framework (OHR/PG/2025/4, June 2025) requires that “decision-makers must provide reasons for any administrative decisions, supported by facts.” No such reasons have been provided. Income-based categories — which the UN’s own analytical bodies warn against using as a proxy for development complexity — are the primary basis for determining where independent economic analysis is needed.

3. Process concerns

• RCs were not meaningfully consulted. Engagement happened shortly before public rollout, not during the design phase. Earlier discussions reportedly included giving RCs discretion over the economist profile in their office. That option was dropped without explanation, in direct tension with the principle that country team configurations should reflect RC judgment.

• No written rationale has been provided. The town hall did not explain why economist positions are being nationalised or downgraded, why income categories are the organising variable, or how any of this improves efficiency or advances UN 2.0. Without a written rationale, staff and Member States are being asked to accept a significant structural change on trust.

• The process does not meet the Organisation’s own standards for staff consultation. Staff Regulation 8.1(a) requires “effective participation of the staff in identifying, examining and resolving issues relating to staff welfare, including conditions of work.” OHR/PG/2025/4 commits management to engage through the Staff Management Committee “on a regular and timely basis regarding proposals that will impact staff.” Staff learned of this recalibration at a town hall after the configuration was designed. Whatever engagement occurred with staff representatives fell short of these requirements — and staff at large had no involvement at all.

• The pace of implementation risks bypassing Member State oversight. ACABQ and the Fifth Committee will consider RC system funding in autumn 2026. DCO’s extrabudgetary discretion means restructuring can proceed before that review. Rushing this through before a new Secretary-General is named makes the situation harder to revisit.

4. What we are asking for

• A written rationale — including the evidence base, efficiency gains claimed, and an honest account of what analytical capacity is lost.

• Genuine RC consultation before any finalisation on the economist profile appropriate for each country context. RC discretion should be the default, not the exception.

• Structured Staff Council engagement before the configuration is operationalised, consistent with Staff Regulation 8.1 and Staff Rule 8.1(h).

• Reconsideration of the blanket approach, with scope for RCs to retain or request an international economist where conditions warrant — an option reportedly still under discussion before this proposal was finalised.

• An assessment of the HR costs — relocations, repatriations, terminations — given the RC system’s current financial constraints.

Mohammed Chiraz Baly is a staff representative and former General Secretary of the CCISUA staff union federation. He is also a data analyst at UNCTAD focusing on investment financing in developing countries.

IPS UN Bureau

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The UN Peacebuilding Commission Celebrates 20 Years of UN Peacebuilding Architecture. Credit: UN Photo/Eskinder Debebe

By Oritro Karim
UNITED NATIONS, Jul 1 2026 (IPS)

From June 22 to 26, the United Nations (UN) commemorated its first annual Peacebuilding Week, marking the 20th anniversary of the UN Peacebuilding Commission’s inaugural session. Featuring discussions among world leaders, policymakers, civil society, and advocates, the event explored how collaboration among governments, international organizations, and the private sector can enhance the visibility and effectiveness of peacebuilding efforts worldwide.

The goals of the Peacebuilding Week are particularly critical today, as increasing geopolitical tensions fracture international cooperation and severe financing shortfalls deplete resources, hindering relief efforts for civilians trapped in conflict. Despite a historic surge in active armed conflicts worldwide recorded over the past two years, peacebuilding and relief funding suffered a severe 40 percent decline between 2024 and 2025, leaving millions of people around the globe in a state of extreme insecurity.

“Peace does not occur automatically. It is built through persistent diplomacy, collective action and political will,” said Annalena Baerbock, President of the UN General Assembly. “Wars that never happen because of peacebuilding, conflict-prevention or sustainable-development efforts rarely make headlines. Yet, like everything else, peacebuilding is only possible when properly resourced.”

On June 26, the Peacebuilding Impact Hub—part of the Peacebuilding and Peace Support Office (PBPSO) within the UN Departments of Political and Peacebuilding Affairs and Peace Operations (DPPA-DPO)—launched its inaugural Peacebuilding Overview, titled Investing in Peace When the World Pays for War. This report analyzes data gathered from governments, civil society, scholars, and UN field operations across numerous, diverse contexts.

By addressing the root causes of conflict and encouraging the implementation of digital technologies—alongside active participation from youth and the private sector—the report aims to forge new paths for peacebuilding that are resilient, inclusive, and globally supported. Aiming to identify structural gaps in data sharing that prevent vital information from being shared internationally and from being fully utilized by policymakers and the public, the report was launched alongside a side event titled Building Peace in a Changing World.

At the event, Paul Fargues, one of the report’s authors and a Political Affairs Officer for the UN Department for Political and Peacebuilding Affairs (DPPA), told reporters that the world is currently at a “crossroads, where conflict is on the rise, good governance is declining, and civic space is shrinking.” He noted that this is compounded by severe budget cuts and disproportionate investment in military expenditure rather than civilian protection and prevention efforts, making humanitarian relief operations increasingly difficult.

According to the report, over the last two decades, the world has invested only one dollar in peacebuilding efforts for every 100 dollars spent on military expenditure. Fargues added that the world’s most vulnerable populations are projected to suffer the most, particularly in dire contexts where aid constitutes more than 60 percent of all external funding and acts as a vital lifeline. Additionally, the DDPA found that roughly two-thirds of the countries whose economies are most dependent on UN aid are also the ones most adversely affected by the funding cuts.

Fargues argued that some of the central obstacles in advancing peacebuilding efforts today are the persistent structural gaps in the dissemination of evidence and data, which is critically underdeveloped when compared to the development and humanitarian sectors.

“Peacebuilding has no underlying framework to create shared data practices, to generate insights at the global level to enhance evidence-based decision-making, or simply to communicate its value to broader non-technical audiences,” Fargues said. “Peacebuilders and those who support them must do a better job at measuring, proving, and communicating this. Given the incredibly challenging contexts, producing more robust data and evidence of impact is a bare minimum.”

Katherina Ahrendts, the Director-General for Global Order, United Nations and Humanitarian Assistance of the Federal Foreign Office of Germany, stated that although the case for investing in protection and prevention efforts is clear, political and financial contributions lag significantly behind. According to figures from the International Monetary Fund (IMF), for every dollar invested in preventive macroeconomic policies, up to 103 dollars could be generated in returns. DPPA also estimated that with adequate investment in prevention and protection measures, humanitarian needs could be reduced by approximately USD 3.6 billion annually.

Despite these potential gains, the economic case for peacebuilding efforts has not sufficiently influenced global investment priorities.“We are indeed at a critical moment when violent conflict is increasing while budgets are under strain and multilateralism as a whole is increasingly challenged,” said Ahrendts. “From a domestic policy standpoint, we need a much stronger business case, more compelling narratives, and better evidence. We need to showcase that peacebuilding is a smart, strategic, and cost-effective instrument that prevents much higher costs later on.”

“This means framing peacebuilding not only as a moral imperative, but as a matter of security, stability, mutual interests and sound investments. In particular, we need to make clear that peacebuilding and investment are an integral component of an effective security strategy,” she added.

Ana Escobar, the UN Representative for Peace Direct, an organization that empowers local peacebuilding efforts and supports community-driven approaches, remarked that peacebuilding must be grounded in a community-based approach and tailored to match the specific needs of vulnerable communities. Peace Direct defines meaningful impact as seeing communities become safer and more resilient long after external support has ceased.

Rather than implementing a pre-established peacebuilding agenda, Peace Direct works with local peacebuilders and community leaders to define what success looks like to them and identify the changes that they want to see. “That means asking different questions,” Escobar said. “Are communities resolving disputes without violence, and how do we measure that? Do women, youth, and marginalized groups have greater influence in decision-making? Is trust increasing between communities and institutions?”

“Peacebuilding is most effective when power, resources, and evidence flow in the same direction, towards the communities that live with conflict every day…. For local peacebuilders, prevention means that children go to school instead of joining armed groups, farmers return to their lands, markets reopen, women move safely, families remain together. Those are the returns communities measure every day,” added Escobar.

Dr. Cedric De Coning, a Senior Researcher in the Peace, Conflict and Development Research Group at the Norwegian Institute of International Affairs (NUPI), underscored the importance of adaptive peacebuilding. This approach calls for the continuous monitoring of data and updating of peacebuilding measures, acknowledging that a community’s dynamics are constantly shifting. Rather than framing peacebuilding as a rigid structure being “built”, Dr. De Coning argues that it is more of a continuous process that is “nurtured”.

“What adaptive peacebuilding says is that we cannot know that beforehand; it has to emerge from people affected by conflict or people in societies struggling to achieve peace themselves,” said Dr. De Coning.

“As peacebuilders, we have to accompany these societies, and we have to learn together with them constantly and adapt our understanding of what it is that we can support. But we should be careful not to measure peace as something that only makes sense for donor-funded projects…. Peace is something much broader, and we need to measure that broader social transformation: how societies are experiencing peace, how they are living the things they look at, is what we need to look at rather than measuring projects to please donors.”

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A protester holds up a placard thar reads ‘Resist, don’t compromise’ at a mass march held under the slogan ‘The people are hungry, the prisons are full’ through popular neighborhoods in Tunis, Tunisia, on 16 May 2026. Credit: Chedly Ben Ibrahim/NurPhoto via AFP

By Andrew Firmin
LONDON, Jul 1 2026 (IPS)

In May, Tunisian lawyer and journalist Sonia Dahmani was handed her second conviction of the year. Her latest sentence, a two-year jail term, came in reaction to her criticism of poor prison conditions. She previously received an 18-month sentence for calling out the government’s anti-migrant policies. Dahmani faces five more charges under a 2022 cybercrime law that criminalises the spreading of what it calls ‘false information’.

Dahmani is one of many victims of President Kais Saied, who continues to steer Tunisia in an ever more repressive direction. Saied won a free and fair election in 2019, but in 2021 he removed the prime minister and parliament, ruling by decree instead. The following year, he rewrote the constitution to give himself near-absolute power, approved in a low-turnout referendum held after key opposing voices had been jailed. When he won his second term in 2024, credible opponents had been criminalised and barred from running. It’s all a long way from the democracy that sprang into life after the 2011 Jasmine Revolution.

Growing criminalisation

Saied’s repression operates behind a facade of legality, with the criminal justice system serving as a tool of presidential control. In 2022, Saied sacked judges who disagreed with him and gave himself the power to control judicial appointments. Courts now do his bidding and jail opponents. At least nine staff of civil society organisations have received prison sentences so far this year.

Journalists Borhen Bssais and Mourad Zeghidi received three-and-a-half-year sentences on trumped-up money laundering and tax evasion charges in January. In 2025, 37 journalists, lawyers, opposition politicians and other dissidents were found guilty of terrorism and plotting to destabilise Tunisia. Following a mass trial, some were given decades-long jail terms. A November 2025 appeal court hearing that defendants weren’t allowed to attend upheld almost all convictions and increased some sentences.

The latest phase of the crackdown is targeting anti-racism campaigners. Since 2023, Saied has deployed the populist strategy of attacking Black African migrants to distract from the economic problems he’s failed to address. He’s repeatedly accused migrants of being responsible for crime and disorder, fuelling violence against them from security forces and the public.

Saied has branded organisations that stand up for migrants’ rights as traitors and foreign agents. Vilification prepares the ground for incarceration. In March, Saadia Mosbah, president of Mnemty, a Tunisian association that fights against racism, received a staggering eight-year sentence on bogus illicit enrichment and money laundering charges. Five of her colleagues were convicted alongside her.

Mnemty faces the threat of being closed down, part of an assault on associational freedoms that has seen dozens of other civil society organisations suspended. Hundreds more could face the same treatment. In 2024, courts ordered the closure of the Tunisian Council for Refugees. Last November, two of its leaders, Mustapha Djemali and Abderrazek Krimi, received two-year sentences for offences under a 1975 law on passports and travel documents.

No one appears to be beyond the state’s reach. In March, a judge ordered the pretrial detention of seven people on money laundering charges for their involvement in the first Global Sumud Flotilla, which last October attempted to take humanitarian aid to Gaza’s besieged population. Meanwhile being one of the organisations that won the 2015 Nobel Peace Prize offered no protection for the Tunisian League for Human Rights. The group was slapped with a one-month suspension in April.

For civil society organisations, suspension marks the start of a process that can lead to dissolution. Civil society organisations also face asset freezes, lawsuits and tax investigations. The combination of criminalisation, legal harassment and top-down vilification results in a pervasive chilling effect.

Judges that don’t do Saied’s bidding are also at risk. Anas Hmedi, President of the Association of Tunisian Magistrates, has been subjected to criminal proceedings since 2022, with a summons on fresh charges issued in January.

Europe says little

Tunisians continue to protest. Hundreds marched in the capital, Tunis, on 6 June to demand media freedoms and the release of political prisoners. Protesters in May also called out Saied’s failure to address the economic crisis. But they need international support.

Last October, Saber Ben Chouchane was handed a death sentence for criticising Saied on Facebook. Authorities interpreted his posts as constituting crimes of attempting to change the form of government, insulting the president and spreading false information. But this time the repression backfired. The severity of the sentence caused such an international outcry that Saied was forced to pardon and release him. This shows that international criticism can make a difference.

The European Parliament spoke up last November, passing a resolution calling for the release of political prisoners and the repeal of the false information provisions. But such gestures have limits, as shown by Saied’s dismissal of the resolution as ‘blatant interference’.

Resistance to autocratisation takes more than words, but the EU isn’t acting. It’s in a weak position towards Saied because it pays the Tunisian government to help prevent migrants crossing into Europe, and in April 2025, it classified Tunisia as a safe country of origin. This means it believes migrants can be deported there on the basis that they won’t be at risk of persecution, a claim that rings hollow for the many from civil society now in jail.

EU policies have contributed to the rising number of migrants in Tunisia, since people can make it there but no further. This makes them a ready target for Saied’s scapegoating. The EU must acknowledge its responsibility and change course. It must recognise that migrants’ rights in Tunisia aren’t being protected and that, in the current situation, only civil society can do that. In its dealings with Tunisia, it must insist that civil society freedoms are respected and people are free both to defend migrants’ rights and criticise the government’s decisions. Continuing silence will make it complicit in the consolidation of a dictatorship.

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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A UN Peacebuilding Week Event held in Egypt’s Permanent Mission to the United Nations, New York. Credit: Maximilian Malawista

By Maximilian Malawista
UNITED NATIONS, Jun 30 2026 (IPS)

As the United Nations held its first-ever Peacebuilding Week (June 22-26), UN officials and developmental partners gathered at Egypt’s Permanent Mission on June 23 to hold a dialogue on the main question that emerged from the 2025 Peacebuilding Architecture Review (PBAR): “How can global commitments to peacebuilding translate into tangible results on the ground?”

This event, hosted by Egypt at the sidelines of Peacebuilding Week, titled “Strengthening National Peace Infrastructures in Africa: Lessons Learned and the Way Forward,” brought together representatives from African governments and regional organizations, as well as members of the UN system, to discuss how nationally-owned institutions can mitigate and prevent conflict, manage effects and sustain peace long after such situations have ended.

To open the event, Egypt’s Permanent Representative to the United Nations, Ihab Moustafa Awad Moustafa, emphasized that the 2025 PBAR negotiations repeatedly asserted a fundamental concern: ensuring that policy discussions in New York produce measurable impact on the ground, whether in Africa or in any other peacekeeping sites.

“One of the clearest answers that emerged during those discussions was the need to strengthen national capacities and institutions,” Moustafa said. “We are serious about peacebuilding, sustaining peace, and primarily prevention. We must invest in national peace infrastructure.”

The PBAR, which was adopted in November of 2025, reaffirmed that nationally led and nationally owned endeavors remain at the core of sustainable peace. The PBAR actively calls on Member States, regional organizations, development partners, international financial institutions, and the UN system to strengthen the institutions capable of preventing conflict, fostering social cohesion, and managing risk.

Throughout the discussion, speakers agreed that contemporary conflicts are rooted in security threats but also pointed to institutional fragility, governance deficits, and declining trust of public institutions between citizens as an additional threat.

Brian James Williams, Chief of the Peacebuilding Fund at the Peacebuilding and Peace Support Office (PBPSO), explained that the review provides a clear mandate for the international community to follow nationally identified priorities.

“Prevention and sustaining peace need stronger national capacities, stronger institutions and better alignment of international support behind those national priorities,” Williams said.

Williams detailed the UN Peacebuilding Fund’s increasingly important role in helping governments operationalize existing national mechanisms, rather than creating new parallel structures. Williams cited examples such as support for peace and reconciliation committees in Chad and local peacebuilding mechanisms in the Central African Republic.

“These committees bring together administrative authorities, traditional and religious leaders, women, young, and marginalized groups,” Williams said, relaying the efforts to connect national peace architectures with local institutions and provincial actors.

Participants of the dialogue repeatedly emphasized that national ownership must extend beyond central governments. Effective peace infrastructures require civil society organizations; participation of local authorities, women, youth, religious leaders, and representatives of the community; and capability of identifying tensions or risks before they can escalate into violence.

Permanent Representative of Nigeria to the United Nations, Ibrahim F. Jimoh, highlighted his country’s model to strengthen peacebuilding through institutions such as the Institute for Peace and Conflict Resolution and through reintegration, demobilization, disarmament, and reconciliation programs tailored to specific local conditions.

“Such infrastructures provide the framework through which countries can anticipate risks, address grievances, and support recovery,” Jimoh said. “Their effectiveness depends on inclusive participation, institutional resilience, and strong national ownership.”

Sierra Leone, Ghana, Côte d’Ivoire, and The Gambia also shared examples where local mediation structures, national peace councils, reconciliation commissions, and traditional institutions of justice have contributed to conflict prevention and social cohesion.

Jacqueline Seck, Chief of Staff, Office of the Under-Secretary-General for Political and Peacebuilding Affairs (DPPA), pointed to Ghana’s Peace Council as an example of nationally owned institutions providing trusted platforms to have dialogue, mediation, and electoral conflict prevention. Similarly, in The Gambia and Sierra Leone, the role of dedicated peace institutions in helping support post-conflict reconciliation and manage political tensions was discussed.

Among the major challenges, financing emerged as a recurring topic throughout the duration of the dialogue. While the catalytic role of the Peacebuilding Fund was praised by the speakers, many emphasized that sustained peace ultimately requires a long-term political commitment to peace as well as continuous domestic investment.

Williams warned that developing institutions often takes a lot of time and is a gradual process.

“Institutions take time to develop,” he said. “Results often require support at a certain scale, across the country, and across different parts of an institution to make meaningful impact.”

Throughout the discussion, participants pointed to a broader shift in peacebuilding strategy, from responding to crises after violence has already erupted to investing in preventative institutions designed to address risks before conflict happens.

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CIVICUS discusses Ghana’s anti-LGBTQI+ law with Leila Lariba, Executive Director of One Love Sisters Ghana, a community-driven organisation that advances human rights, social inclusion and wellbeing for Muslim LGBTQI+ people in Ghana.

On 29 May, Ghana’s parliament approved the Human Sexual Rights and Family Values Bill, which imposes prison terms of up to three years for people who identify as LGBTQI+ and three to five years for anyone deemed to promote, sponsor or support LGBTQI+ activities. With it, Ghana joins a growing group of West African states, including Burkina Faso, Mali, Niger and Senegal, that have recently passed anti-LGBTQI+ laws.

What does the new bill do, and how different is it from the version parliament approved in 2024?

Parliament approved the new anti-LGBTQI+ bill on 29 May and it now awaits President John Dramani Mahama’s signature. The bill criminalises LGBTQI+ people and anyone perceived to support, advocate for or provide services to them. It reaches far beyond identity and relationships into the freedoms of association, education, expression, healthcare and human rights advocacy. I have worked directly with LGBTQI+ communities across Ghana for years and I see this not as a legal document but as a tool that legitimises discrimination.

The version parliament approved in 2024, which former president Nana Akufo-Addo left office without signing, was already one of the continent’s most restrictive. The new text keeps most of its harmful provisions. It comes at a moment when LGBTQI+ people already face heightened fear, insecurity and stigma, and it makes simply existing, seeking support or speaking about human rights a potential crime.

Why is the bill being pushed now, and who’s behind it?

The bill is being pushed by anti-rights groups that have increasingly turned LGBTQI+ people into a political target. As many Ghanaians struggle with economic hardship, unemployment and governance concerns, public attention is being redirected towards a small and already excluded community.

Behind it stands a coalition of political figures, conservative religious groups and traditional leaders who frame LGBTQI+ rights as a threat to culture and family values. This narrative ignores Ghana’s long history of diversity and the fact that LGBTQI+ people belong to every family, community and faith group in the country and the world.

Do you expect President Dramani to sign the bill, and what would the consequences be?

It’s uncertain whether President Dramani will sign. But the damage is already done. The prolonged public debate has fuelled fear, encouraged discrimination and left many people feeling less safe. Even before it becomes law, the bill has emboldened hostility.

At One Love Sisters Ghana, we have documented rising reports of blackmail, evictions, family rejection, mental health crises, online harassment and workplace discrimination. People are now afraid to seek healthcare, legal help and psychosocial support in case they are exposed or targeted. When fear becomes institutionalised, people stop seeking help precisely when they need it most.

The law would threaten fundamental rights and deepen the stigma, isolation and vulnerability of people who already face daily barriers. As a queer Muslim activist, I know what it means to navigate many layers of exclusion. Many LGBTQI+ people are balancing identity, faith, family and safety. This law would make that even harder.

The impact would reach beyond individual people. Community organisations, healthcare providers, human rights defenders and support networks would also face risk, making it harder for vulnerable people to reach essential services and protection.

How are LGBTQI+ groups, including your organisation, responding?

Ghana’s LGBTQI+ communities are remarkably resilient. Across the country, people are supporting one another, sharing information, strengthening their safety and keeping community ties alive.

At One Love Sisters Ghana, we focus on community care, protection and wellbeing. We have tightened safety and security measures, expanded psychosocial support, documented rights violations and kept referring people in crisis to the help they need.

We work closely with activists, community leaders, health professionals, lawyers and regional partners to track developments and keep people informed and supported. Through our national support systems, we keep hearing from people worried about their safety, livelihoods and future.

We also hold on to hope. Our communities have survived hard times before, and we keep building solidarity, caring for one another and advocating for dignity and human rights.

What further restrictions could follow, and what support do you need to prevent them?

Our greatest fear is that this law lays the groundwork for broader restrictions on civil society, free expression and human rights work. Organisations could face tighter scrutiny, activists greater risk and excluded groups even harder access to services.

To prevent further harm, we need sustained support from national, regional and international allies for community safety initiatives, emergency response, legal assistance, mental health services and the protection of human rights defenders.

International solidarity should be led by local communities and grounded in human rights. Allies should amplify local voices, back grassroots organisations and keep advocating for fundamental freedoms.

This is bigger than LGBTQI+ rights. It’s about the kind of society we want to be. Respect for human rights can’t be selective. When the rights of one group are restricted, it creates a precedent that can affect everyone.

As a queer Muslim feminist and human rights defender, I believe that dignity, freedom and safety belong to all people. The conversations happening today will shape the future of our democracy. I hope Ghana chooses compassion over fear, inclusion over exclusion and human dignity over discrimination.

CIVICUS interviews a wide range of civil society activists, experts and leaders to gather diverse perspectives on civil society action and current issues for publication on its CIVICUS Lens platform. The views expressed in interviews are the interviewees’ and do not necessarily reflect those of CIVICUS. Publication does not imply endorsement of interviewees or the organisations they represent.

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SEE ALSO
Gender rights: rollback and resistance CIVICUS | State of Civil Society Report 2026
Senegal: ‘The new law criminalises not only LGBTQI+ people but also anyone offering support’ CIVICUS Lens | Anonymous interview 21.May.2026
Ghana: ‘The anti-LGBTQI+ law enshrines prejudice and discrimination and perpetuates inequalities’ CIVICUS Lens | Interview with Solomon Atsuvia | 01.May.2024

Credit: Jaime Saldarriaga/AFP

By Inés M. Pousadela
MONTEVIDEO, Uruguay, Jun 26 2026 (IPS)

On 21 June Colombians made their choice. By the narrowest of margins, Abelardo de la Espriella, a far-right criminal lawyer who’s never held elected office, became president-elect. Climate activists, human rights defenders, Indigenous communities and peace advocates have the most to lose from the incoming government’s agenda.

The election results follow the logic of a decade of deepening polarisation. Since the 2016 Peace Accord with the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia began a contested and incomplete transition away from armed conflict, Colombian society has divided into two mutually hostile blocs. The election further revealed that no middle ground remains between them. The mainstream right is gone, its candidate receiving a humiliating 6.3 per cent of the first-round vote, and a new right, harsher and less constrained by institutional norms, has taken its place.

Peace agreement in trouble

Nothing divided the two runoff candidates more starkly than the 2016 Peace Accord. Iván Cepeda, the candidate backed by outgoing leftist President Gustavo Petro, is a long-time human rights advocate and senator, and chairs the Senate’s Peace and Post-Conflict Commission. He ran on a ‘comprehensive peace’ platform focused on addressing the structural roots of violence, including land access, inequality and the absence of state services in rural areas.

In contrast, De la Espriella said there would be no peace process under his watch, proposing instead to resume aerial bombardment of armed groups and reinstate herbicide fumigation of coca crops, a practice with well-documented environmental and public health consequences.

According to figures from Colombia’s Ombudsman’s Office, the six-decade conflict caused over 1.1 million killings and more than 200,000 enforced disappearances, while over nine million were forcibly displaced. That record, and the significant progress made since 2016, will now be judged expendable by a government that regards the accords as illegitimate.

For the communities living in territories where armed groups overlap with extractive industries, this is no abstract policy debate. Human rights organisations have warned that a return to a full military offensive will be devastating for civilian populations, particularly the environmental defenders and Indigenous communities who already face lethal threats. Colombia is the world’s deadliest country for environmental and land rights defenders. It’s likely about to get worse.

Cutting the human rights lifeline

De la Espriella also proposes to part ways with the international human rights architecture that has provided Colombia’s victims with a path to justice. On the campaign trail, he announced his intention to withdraw from ‘useless’ international organisations including the UN and the Organization of American States, and denounced the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights as ‘a farce’ that has served only to ‘support the left and persecute our security forces’.

In Colombia’s conflict-ridden territories where Afro-Colombian and Indigenous communities continue to experience massacres and displacement, international monitoring bodies are often the only source of independent verification that violence is happening. The American Convention on Human Rights, which Colombia ratified in 1973, is embedded in the country’s constitutional framework, shaping the interpretation of fundamental rights across the legal system.

The Inter-American Commission on Human Rights has hundreds of cases involving Colombia. In December 2024, the Inter-American Court of Human Rights found the state responsible for the 1995 enforced disappearance of two human rights defenders. Their families waited almost three decades for closure, and only got it because they turned to the regional system when domestic institutions failed them. Now that route could be closed.

What the results mean

Colombia’s change of direction could have global repercussions. Just weeks before the election, Colombia hosted the First Conference on Transitioning Away from Fossil Fuels, bringing together 57 states alongside civil society and scientists frustrated by the repeated failure of UN climate summits to deliver binding commitments on fossil fuel phase-out. Under Petro, renewable energy grew from two per cent to around 16 per cent of the energy mix, and Colombia issued no new contracts for fossil fuel exploration.

That era ends when de la Espriella takes office on 7 August. He frames fossil fuel expansion as a fiscal imperative and calls for the immediate legalisation of fracking, currently banned by judicial moratorium. Since the country includes significant parts of the Amazon rainforest, the climate impacts won’t be limited to Colombia.

Ultimately, De la Espriella did not win for his positions on peace, climate or human rights. He won on security and the promise of order. Calling himself ‘The Tiger’, he modelled his campaign on the populist template of Argentina’s President Javier Milei and El Salvador’s Nayib Bukele, vowing to shrink the state, build megaprisons and combat corruption with tools normally reserved for organised crime. The movement he founded, Defenders of the Homeland, carried Donald Trump’s public backing. The combination proved effective in a country exhausted by decades of violence where many are deeply sceptical of the left’s ability to deliver safety.

The far-right candidate converted legitimate grievances about insecurity into a mandate to dismantle the peace process, reverse climate commitments and withdraw from the international human rights architecture. The consequences will be felt most acutely by those his campaign never meant to speak to.

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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Shifra Ainomugisha from Uganda receives the 2026 Commonwealth Young Person of the Year award from the Commonwealth Secretary-General, Shirley Botchwey. Credit: Commonwealth

By Kizito Makoye
LONDON & DAR ES SALAAM, Jun 25 2026 (IPS)

Before anyone called her an innovator, before artificial intelligence entered the conversation, before solar-powered cold rooms, before the language of sustainable development, Shifra Ainomugisha knew food loss in its painful form.

At dawn, she would grab a bucket and walk into rows of tomato plants on her family’s farm in Western Uganda to collect what had already been lost.

The tomatoes looked healthy from a distance. But many had softened, burst, or spoilt before reaching the market – the true meaning of food loss.

“I used to wake up every morning to collect rotten tomatoes and throw them away while trying to save whatever remained,” she recalled.

Almost half the family’s harvest disappeared this way.

Yet the labour never stopped.

Her parents worked relentlessly. Seasons came and went. Fields produced food. But income remained painfully uncertain.

“Meanwhile, we struggled to pay school fees,” she said. “Some children dropped out of school even though we worked very hard during holidays on the farm. We were producing food but could not earn enough money to support our education.”

Shifra Ainomugisha poses beside a solar-powered irrigation system in Uganda. She was named the 2026 Commonwealth Young Person of the Year. Her contribution includes combining renewable energy and AI-enabled agricultural support to help smallholder farmers increase productivity and reduce post-harvest losses. Credit: Solafam, Uganda

Mission Accomplished

Those childhood memories – of abundance turning into loss and hard work failing to translate into opportunity – would eventually shape a mission that has now earned Ainomugisha recognition as the regional winner for Africa under SDG 2: Zero Hunger in the 2026 Commonwealth Youth Awards.

Selected from almost 1,000 applicants across the Commonwealth’s 56 member states after a two-stage adjudication process involving 57 judges, Ainomugisha joined 19 finalists recognised for advancing the Sustainable Development Goals through innovation and community impact.

But the award was not her only accolade.

Today, the Ugandan farmer and innovator earned the prestigious title of 2026 Commonwealth Young Person of the Year at the 2026 Commonwealth Youth Awards ceremony in London.

The Commonwealth Secretary-General, Shirley Botchwey, presented the award to Ainomugisha.

In her remarks Botchwey congratulated all the finalists.

“You are already winners. To be selected from across 56 nations is a testament to your courage and your creativity. You embody the very best of our family. You have shown resilience in the face of challenge and innovation in the face of constraint.”

She continued, “Today is not about recognition alone – it is about momentum. It is not about isolated excellence — it is about collective advancement. Together, we will continue to strengthen the Commonwealth Youth Programme as a flagship vehicle for youth development in the Commonwealth.”

A Journey That Began With a Big Question

For the young Ugandan entrepreneur, however, the journey did not begin with awards.

It began with a question she carried since childhood:

How can people who grow food still remain hungry?

“Nobody should die of hunger,” she tells IPS.

“Because we are here to help. Farmers are doing agriculture, and we are solving food waste, which means we are fighting hunger. That is one of the SDGs we are working on.”

Today, Ainomugisha serves as co-founder and Chief Executive Officer of  Solafam, Uganda Ltd, a social enterprise using solar-powered technologies and artificial intelligence to help smallholder farmers reduce food losses, improve yields and increase incomes.

Her work combines three interconnected interventions: solar-powered cold storage, solar irrigation systems and an AI-enabled advisory platform known as Lean AI – a WhatsApp chatbot designed to guide farmers on planting decisions, irrigation timing, pest management, post-harvest handling and market access.

Together, the technologies aim to solve one of Africa’s challenging agricultural paradoxes: producing food but losing too much of it before it reaches consumers.

According to regional agricultural estimates, post-harvest losses continue to absorb a huge share of food production across sub-Saharan Africa, undermining incomes, nutrition and rural resilience. Smallholder farmers – who form the backbone of food systems – are particularly vulnerable because many lack access to storage, irrigation and agricultural extension services.

For Ainomugisha, those statistics have faces.

Her mother’s face.

Her father’s.

Her neighbours’.

And her own.

“I come from a tomato-growing family,” she said.

“Growing up, we experienced food wastage and low returns despite all the hard labour we invested in farming.”

Her father became one of her earliest inspirations.

Although he never had the opportunity to pursue formal education, he constantly experimented with solutions.

“He tried solving it by buying a diesel irrigation pump to increase yields because we only have one major farming season,” she explained.

“If you don’t make enough money during that season, the whole year becomes difficult.”

He attempted to preserve produce in improvised storage spaces.

But tomatoes continued spoiling.

Years later, after gaining access to education and exposure to technology, Ainomugisha began thinking differently.

“First of all, it wasn’t simply my decision alone,” she reflected.

“It began with my father. My father did not get the opportunity to go to school, but I did. I felt I had a better chance to solve the problem than he did.”

That conviction followed her into university.

Shifra Ainomugisha (centre, in reflective vest), co-founder and CEO of Solafam, Uganda Ltd, stands with farmers and community members beside a solar panel installation that supports climate-smart agriculture initiatives. Through renewable energy and farmer-centred innovation, the project seeks to reduce food loss and improve rural incomes. Credit: Solafam, Uganda

Solar to AI to Filling Knowledge Gaps

Together with colleagues, she founded Solar Farm while still studying.

Initially, the concept was straightforward: cold-chain storage.

Support from entrepreneurship initiatives – including LEAP Africa – helped transform the idea into a functioning enterprise.

But customers quickly changed the direction.

People arriving at the cold rooms often revealed a deeper challenge.

Some had little produce to preserve.

Storage alone was not enough.

The team expanded.

Solar irrigation came next.

The goal was to help farmers reduce dependence on expensive diesel fuel and enable year-round production.

Farmers could access irrigation systems through a flexible financing model – paying 20 percent upfront and then making weekly payments of approximately USD 1.60 until ownership.

“We wanted to create a solution that farmers could actually afford,” she said.

Then came the next leap: artificial intelligence.

Ainomugisha says the AI component emerged from another observation.

Many farmers lacked access to agricultural training.

Knowledge gaps were driving losses.

“Many people are farming, but they are not always doing it the right way,” she explained.

“You might find a tomato farmer irrigating in the morning, yet tomatoes are better irrigated in the afternoon or evening.”

The team launched Lean AI – a chatbot accessible through WhatsApp that provides real-time agricultural guidance.

Farmers can ask questions and receive recommendations on farming practices, pest control, irrigation and post-harvest management.

The system is now being adapted to work via real-time messaging protocol known as USSD to reach users with basic mobile phones.

“We use AI to continue training farmers even when we are not physically present,” she said.

“We believe this will improve yields, increase incomes and eventually change the narrative that farming is only for the poor.”

Shifra Ainomugisha poses beside a solar-powered irrigation system in Uganda. She is combining renewable energy and AI-enabled agricultural support to help smallholder farmers increase productivity and reduce post-harvest losses. Credit: Solafam, Uganda

Changing the Narrative

That narrative matters deeply to her.

“In Uganda, there is a narrative that agriculture is for poor people,” she said.

“That is sad.”

She pauses.

“People believe that because despite hard work, they cannot escape poverty.”

One of the defining moments came in 2023.

After struggling to convince local markets to host their first cold room, the team installed it at her family home.

Her mother became the first customer.

Then came neighbours.

Then more farmers.

Initially, usage was free.

People needed proof.

One woman – a friend of Ainomugisha’s mother who traded fruits and vegetables – became an unexpected validation.

She stored produce for a month.

Fresh vegetables that once spoilt within days remained viable for nearly two weeks.

That extra time allowed her to wait for better prices instead of selling under pressure.

“She later realised how much it was helping her,” Ainomugisha said.

“Now she earns more from farming than she did before.”

Solafam eventually introduced a pay-per-use model.

The impact, Ainomugisha says, became measurable.

“What makes us proud is that we have increased farmers’ incomes by 28 percent.”

“We have also reduced post-harvest losses by about 30 percent.”

Commonwealth Deputy Secretary-General (Programmes), Tanmaya Lal, Commonwealth Secretary-General, Shirley Botchwey, and Commonwealth Deputy Secretary-General (Corporate), Tania Baumann, pose with the 2026 Commonwealth Young Person of the Year and Africa Regional Winner, Shifra Ainomugisha, at the Commonwealth Youth Awards ceremony in London. Credit: Commonwealth Secretariat

Winning Reaction

Those outcomes helped propel Solafam onto the Commonwealth stage. The Commonwealth Youth Awards are an initiative of the Commonwealth Youth Programme, which has supported youth development work in member countries for over 50 years.

“I am honoured to be named the 2026 Commonwealth Young Person of the Year.  This recognition is not only personal but also represents the farmers and communities in Uganda whom we serve.  It also affirms that solutions built from lived experience can create real impact. I cannot wait to continue this journey with the support of the Commonwealth and its remarkable network of partners.”

The Awards recognise young leaders advancing development solutions across member states.

For more than a decade, the programme has provided visibility, networks and funding opportunities to support youth-led initiatives.

This year’s finalists span sectors ranging from climate action and health innovation to entrepreneurship and communications.

For Ainomugisha, being selected is an honour.

“I’m glad to be a finalist for the Commonwealth Youth Award and a regional winner for Africa,” she said.

She believes three things contributed most to the selection.

Sustainability.

Impact.

Accessibility.

“First of all, our project is sustainable. We have maintained it from 2022 until now.”

“Secondly, we are creating meaningful impact.”

“Also, our technology is affordable for smallholder farmers.”

But perhaps what distinguishes her work most is who it centres.

Women.

“Because this problem is personal to me,” she said.

“I did not hear someone else’s story and decide to solve it.”

“I am a woman, and I saw how my mother worked every day on the farm, yet our lives were not improving.”

Across much of Africa, women form a large share of the agricultural workforce while often facing unequal access to land, financing, technologies and extension services.

Ainomugisha says designing with women in mind is not a strategy.

It is lived experience.

“Of course, we also work with men, but the majority of our beneficiaries are women.”

As global conversations increasingly focus on artificial intelligence, her message is clear.

Technology alone is not enough.

It must be accessible.

Affordable.

And designed around people’s realities.

Her next ambition is expansion—making agricultural intelligence available even to farmers without smartphones.

The larger vision is not simply digitising agriculture.

It is restoring dignity to farming.

The memory of rotten tomatoes remains.

So does the memory of school fees that almost went unpaid.

But today, those memories no longer represent failure.

They represent the beginning of a different harvest.

One where innovation is measured not only in algorithms or solar panels but also in whether families who grow food can finally afford to eat, learn and dream.

And for Ainomugisha, that future has already started.

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Excerpt:

Cécile Koffi and her colleagues collect salt from concrete pans on the beach in rural Benin. Credit: Neha Banka/IPS

By Neha Banka
OUIDAH, Benin, Jun 25 2026 (IPS)

It is barely noon, and a group of women sit near the beach on the outskirts of Djégbadji village, in West Africa’s Benin, sifting through mounds of salt harvested from the Gulf of Guinea’s ocean.

Large concrete vats covered with black tarpaulin show traces of white salt sediment as the seawater slowly evaporates under Benin’s midday sun – except that instead of using fire, the group uses solar energy.

The women have been working as part of a grassroots project called ProSEL Benin, a collaborative effort of the governments of Benin along with India, Brazil and South Africa (IBSA) and the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) that focuses on strengthening local salt-producing communities to access sustainable energy sources and create medium-sized enterprises for the production and marketing of local iodised salt.

Salt production is one of the main income-generating activities for the populations living in and around southern Benin.

Generations-Old Traditions

“In Benin’s coastal areas, women skim the salt from the coastal marshes… they put up their little huts and boil salt water in massive vats over an open fire inside the hut. They then sell the ‘cooked’ salt at the markets and on the roadsides. It’s an unhealthy practice for various reasons,” says Robina Marks, who served as South Africa’s ambassador to Benin and Togo from 2021 to 2024 and was closely involved in the implementation of the IBSA-backed project.

The traditional method of collecting and cooking the salt has been practised in Benin since at least the 15th century, primarily by women, and involves collecting saline soil, evaporating the water and filtering brine by burning chopped mangrove wood to produce salt.

The practice harms women’s health due to how they collect the salt and the conditions in which it is prepared.

“It takes a very long time and is very labour-intensive,” Marks says.

The ProSEL Benin project attempts to change this traditional practice and make the process of collecting salt healthier and cleaner.

Salt-making is an important source of income for communities here, relying heavily on the cutting down of mangroves.

ProSEL Benin’s research estimates that approximately 20,000 cubic metres of mangrove wood are cut down annually in coastal Benin for use as firewood in Indigenous salt-making.

The UNDP and the Benin government discussed the new method about five years ago.

“But the idea came from the people on the ground, who had the needs. The Benin government came up with the project and wanted to work with UNDP,” says Aoualé Mohamed Abchir, who served as the UNDP Resident Representative in Benin from 2020 to 2024 and was instrumental in its development.

ProSEL Benin, Abchir says, is an attempt to advance three out of the 17 Sustainable Development Goals of the 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development: gender equality; decent work and economic growth; and responsible consumption and production. This project aims to help rural women in Benin make and sell clean salt and become self-reliant.

In 2021, the Board of Directors of the India, Brazil and South Africa Facility for Poverty and Hunger Alleviation Fund awarded USD 1 million to the UNDP to implement the salt project.

IBSA is an example of collaborative efforts between the three developing countries, as well as a South-South cooperation initiative within the United Nations that focuses on development cooperation among developing countries in the Global South.

When 60-year-old Cécile Koffi was first introduced to the salt project, it took some time to convince her to switch from the traditional method of making salt.

“There are a lot of things the salt does. Salt is intrinsic to the community’s women,” Koffi says, examining the day’s salt collection.

Salt is culturally important to Benin, and its uses go beyond culinary applications.

“It is not only used as food, but it also has a cultural aspect to it. It is regarded as sacred and is used in many of the vodoun practices,” says Marks.

“When we go to the market to sell our produce, we sprinkle salt on the ground and sweep it up before setting up our spot. It is believed that every bad spirit will go away if we do that. Salt is very important. We use it in a lot of rituals,” says Koffi.

Julienne Dekon collects saline water using the traditional method to make salt in rural Benin. Credit: Neha Banka/IPS

These deep-rooted cultural beliefs were one reason why it was difficult to get the women to change and adapt to the ProSEL Benin project, even though it was backed by the Benin government, explains Abchir.

Traditionally salt production is a cultural activity carried out by the Xwla populations of the coastal zone in Benin. The traditional production of salt by the salt farmers in the villages is subject to many prohibitions related to working days, village deities, and so on.

“The name Xwlajè is also intimately linked to the Xwla ethnic group,” says Luc Obale, national project director of ProSEL Benin. The Benin government has been working to certify the salt so that it can be sold with the label ‘Xwlajè’ to identify its cultural origin.

“The old method is their ancestral way of producing salt, so it has significance. Sometimes when you change the way you produce something, some people believe it may have negative implications. The women could have got the salt directly from the sea, but there is a reason why they weren’t doing that before the project,” says Abchir.

The ProSEL Benin project targeted five areas in coastal Benin where people have traditionally harvested salt: Sèmè Kpodji, Grand Popo, Ouidah, Kpomasse, Comè and Lokossa.

“In those other areas, people have been more open to using sea water to make salt, but Ouidah is Ouidah. It is very special. They believe that the best salt can only be cooked, not dried. They believe that they have to cook it,” explains Abchir.

Ground-Level Interventions

The ProSEL Benin project is not the first intervention programme that has attempted to make local salt cleaner and more environmentally sustainable, but it has been successful because caseworkers managed to get it off the ground, says Cessi Marlene Capo-Chichi, who works with UNDP as a project coordinator.

“Organisations have struggled to convince the local community to change their ways,” she says.

Some 500 metres from where the ProSEL project is ongoing by the beach, within the limits of Djégbadji village, is a coastal lagoon where women work inside a network of thatched huts, making salt in the traditional way.

“The traditional way of making salt is more laborious,” says 45-year-old Julienne Dekon, lifting a cane basket heavy with saline soil collected from the marshy land that surrounds her.

These days, the Benin government prevents the chopping down of mangroves for wood, and women are encouraged to use dried palm leaves and coconut shells for fuel instead.

Dekon says that she wants to continue working using the traditional method, although many of her friends have now switched to the modern method of salt making using seawater after joining the ProSEL project.

As she begins boiling the saline water inside her hut, smoke fills the small space.

“When I have to work a lot, I do get tired. But I don’t know much about how this affects my health,” says Dekon.

Dekon doesn’t remember when she started making salt, but it has been a very long time, and she is now accustomed to preparing using the traditional methods.

“The method on the beach (ProSEL project) is easy to do. But when it is raining, it is not possible to do it outside. But I can continue to make salt even in the rain, because I collect the soil and start cooking indoors. The two systems are too different,” says Dekon, referring to the open-air concrete salt vats by the sea that are susceptible to the vagaries of the weather.

However, the wet weather also affects the women using traditional methods.

From April to August, Benin experiences its rainy season, with short spells of rain between September and November, and the low-lying marshes near the lagoons are prone to flooding.

“We are pushing them to switch to the ProSEL system because during the rainy season the area where the salt is produced traditionally is inaccessible. It is completely flooded, and so for more than half the year, there is no production of salt. We needed to give them alternatives,” says Abchir.

While it is easier for the women to avoid the rains by tracking the weather, it is harder to bypass the persistent floods, he says.

Abchir says the project focused on giving the women access to seawater to make sure they could make salt and have steady income through the year.

“Using the seawater to make salt is less painful. You just get the water and let the sun evaporate it. You don’t have to cook it, and it is safer. You can also make more money,” says Abchir.

Just down the unpaved road from where Dekon works, a woman stands by the highway selling salt.

The difference between the salt produced by women like Dekon, who have been working using traditional methods and those engaged with ProSEL Benin is clear: the traditional salt is visibly yellow-brown with streaks of grey, colours that come due to the lack of a filtration process. The ProSEL Benin salt is clean and white, fortified with iodine that the women mix into the salt just before filling it into bags.

A one-kilogram bag of salt produced by women using the traditional method, sold in local marketplaces and by the road, would cost approximately 800 West African CFA franc (approx. USD 2), while the same amount produced by ProSEL Benin would sell for 1,000 CFA.

For Public Consumption

ProSEL research indicates there are about 4,000 women harvesting salt in Benin. The country imports most of its salt from countries like Ghana, Senegal and India because its Indigenous salt farming covers only a small fraction of the country’s actual needs.

Stakeholders realised that it was not enough to teach the women how to make cleaner salt; they also had to be given access to markets to sell it. One market that the project aims to tap into is the World Food Programme (WFP) under the UN’s Benin office, which helps feed over 1 million children annually with daily school meals. The WFP has been undertaking research to understand the feasibility of purchasing and using salt through these cooperatives led by women under ProSEL.

The Benin government has ambitious plans for the harvested salt.

In December 2025, Benin’s food safety agency, ABSSA, the Agence Béninoise de Sécurité Sanitaire des Aliments, certified the salt for public consumption, after which the salt was prepared to be sold under the label Xwlajè.

Presently, the Xwlajè salt is sold in seven different supermarket chains across Cotonou, as well as in standalone shops located in the municipalities of Porto-Novo, Cotonou and Comè.

“In addition, steps are underway to market Xwlajè salt in the duty-free shops at Cotonou International Airport,” says Obale.

Abchir adds that a process that would take the women six hours now takes them two. Bringing about change has been difficult, he says, because it involved convincing people who were accustomed to working in a specific way for generations.

He admits that they wouldn’t have been able to do much without winning the trust of the women, their husbands who still oversee their lives, the mayor and the local community leaders.

“The local team went down to the women and understood their needs so that sensibilities could be understood and it would be accepted. It is very difficult in Benin when outsiders come in and tell them what to do.”

Abchir says that there is a high risk of undoing all that work if there is mistrust in the community towards the project.

“They are accepting the changes. Now we are trying to build construction for storage, keeping machines, etc. It is a sensitive phase, but we are hopeful that it will work.”

Benin’s government has prioritised tourism over the last few years, and its Indigenous salt farming practices are a key part of its plans to introduce tourists to Beninese culture.

The ProSEL project does not aim to fully remove the traditional method of salt farming, says Obale.

“The modern salt production unit is located not far from the traditional production site to allow tourists to see the difference between the two production methods,” he says.

Mireille Adjovi, a new mother in her 20s, has come to work at the ProSEL site with her infant sleeping on her back.

“With the money I get, I am able to take care of my children. I will be able to send them to school. I think about myself last: my husband and children come first. Maybe the men give money for the household, but women still suffer a lot. If women need something, husbands give the amount of money they want to give you, not what you need. The men don’t think about the women. So the project helps me earn my own money,” says Adjovi.

For women like Adjovi, making salt is not just about following the jobs women before her have done for generations.

She doesn’t know what the UN’s SDGs are or even what IBSA means, but the work at ProSEL Benin allows her to prioritise her own health and well-being while working collectively in a women-led cooperative.

When she talks to other women working at the site, she also thinks about the hard-earned independence and self-reliance she now has.

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

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Farmer-turned-fishermen from the local indigenous community are fishing in the Dumboor lake in north-eastern India. At the Eighth Global Environment Facility Assembly, a project was approved involving three communities across India, including Dumboor Lake. Credit: Stella Paul/IPS

By Stella Paul
DUMBOORNAGAR, India and SAMARKAND, Uzbekistan, Jun 24 2026 (IPS)

At dawn, when the waters of Dumboor Lake lie still under a pale grey sky, Santo Chakma, 63, nudges his narrow wooden boat into a reservoir that swallowed his childhood.

The lake is a growing attraction for tourists who come here in search of beauty and tranquillity, with dozens of islands scattered across a vast expanse of water. But for Chakma, the lake reflects a past erased.

“Once, these were rice fields. My father and my grandfather cultivated rice,” he says quietly. “But now we catch fish because there is no land.”

Spread across 41 square kilometres in Tripura’s Gomati basin, Dumboor Lake is now known for its 48 small islands and a growing tourism economy. But beneath its surface lies the submerged Raima–Saima valley – once a fertile agricultural landscape that sustained indigenous communities for generations.

That landscape disappeared in 1974, when the Gumti Hydroelectric Dam transformed the Gomati River into a reservoir, displacing thousands of people, mostly from indigenous tribes such as the Chakma, Reang, and Tripuri.

From Farmers to Fishers

In villages like West Gandecherra – a lakeside village – elderly people carry the memories of their old days in their hearts.

“The Gumti (Gomati) River was our lifeline,” recalls Phulorani Tripura, an elderly resident. “We used to sail bamboo rafts.”

Across the region, communities tie bamboo in large bundles and throw them upstream. The river carries the bundles down and people travel on them using these bundles as their rafts. For days, they live on these bamboo rafts, sleeping on them and selling produce from their farms, such as homemade butter and peppers, until they reach a market where the bamboo is sold.

“Water was not our livelihood – it wasn’t our way of living,” Chakma reminisces.

That world collapsed after the dam was built as farmland, homes, and markets were submerged. Families were relocated to uplands, where agriculture proved unreliable. Many eventually returned to the lake – not as traders or farmers, but as fishers.

Today, nearly 5,000 families depend on the lake’s fisheries, navigating livelihoods born out of displacement rather than choice.

An Increasingly Fragile Livelihood

Every morning, lines of small boats move out across Dumboor. By afternoon, they return with their catch, which is often smaller than in previous years. Fish diversity has declined due to overfishing, reduced stocking, and ecological stress.

“Earlier, fish were plentiful. We caught big fish like rahu (Labeo rohita), katla (South Asian carp) and gojal (channa marulius). If we sold one fish weighing 4-5 kg, it would be enough money for a whole week. Now we catch more small fish, which sell for less and also don’t stay fresh for long, which brings even less. So, now we work harder for less,” says Sushil Chakma, a fisherman, untangling his net.

Economic pressures add another layer of strain. Fishing licences cost up to ₹10,000, while government-fixed prices can be lower than 1 dime (US) per kilogram, leaving fishers dependent on middlemen.

“The government charges us, but the benefits don’t reach us,” Chakma says.

There are also constant safety risks due to erratic weather, fluctuating water levels, and fragile bamboo fishing platforms – known locally as ‘mancha’ – which have led to repeated fatalities.

“We call these platforms ‘mancha’, and we often hear that one has broken and fishermen have drowned,” says Bryn Tiprasa, a youth originally from East Gandecherra village near the lake, now living in Agartala, about 120 kilometres away.

“In fact, only last month, a fisherman died like that. Two years ago, four fishermen died in a single incident. Will this project consider addressing these kinds of problems? We don’t know yet.”

Tourism Grows, but Locals Miss Inclusion

Dumboor has increasingly been promoted as a tourism destination, with sites like Coconut Island attracting visitors for boating and festivals.

The Government of India has invested significantly in developing tourism infrastructure around the lake. But locals say these efforts prioritise visitors over indigenous communities whose livelihoods depend on the lake.

“The big businesses are not ours,” says a local boat operator. “We build boats ourselves, take loans, and earn only during the season.”

Some residents also report losing access to land and resources because private aquaculture or tourism ventures lease parts of the reservoir.

For communities already displaced once, these developments revive a familiar fear: marginalisation in the name of development.

Environmental pressures are also compounding these challenges. Invasive species such as Mikania micrantha (locally referred to as ‘Pichash’) due to erratic rainfall and changing water levels have disrupted fish breeding cycles and degraded ecosystems around the lake.

Despite supporting thousands of livelihoods, Dumboor Lake still lacks a comprehensive management plan.

“We depend on the lake, but no one manages it properly,” says a cooperative member. “How long can this continue?”

A New GEF-Backed Project Enters the Picture

Amid these overlapping pressures, a new biodiversity initiative supported by the Global Environment Facility (GEF) is drawing cautious attention.

The project – Conservation of Biodiversity, its Sustainable Use, and Fair and Equitable Sharing of Benefits in India (CONSERVE) – was approved at the 6th Global Biodiversity Framework Fund Council meeting, held under the framework of the Eighth GEF Assembly.

Backed by USD 13.8 million and implemented by the United Nations Development Programme and the World Bank, the project aims to strengthen community-led conservation while ensuring fair sharing of benefits.

At its core is a shift toward recognising Indigenous communities as key custodians of ecosystems – a long-standing demand in regions like Dumboor.

However, details of how the project will work on the ground and what it will specifically deliver for Dumboor’s fishers are not yet clear.

This uncertainty shapes local reactions: hopeful, but cautious.

Potential – and Unanswered – Questions

The initiative is expected to involve at least 25,000 people across project areas in governance and decision-making, including women.

For communities in Dumboor, this could mean,

• recognition of traditional knowledge
• participation in resource management
• access to financial support and new livelihood models
• improved ecosystem sustainability.

It also reflects the GEF’s growing emphasis on blended finance approaches – combining public and multilateral funds with other sources – to support environmental outcomes alongside community development.

Some, however, say the project needs greater transparency.

“How will local women be integrated into this project? What will be the means and level of women’s access to finance and opportunities to play a leadership role? These are some of the questions,” says a member of the CBD Woman’s Caucus who participated in the GEF global council.

According to the GEF, several gender-specific targets are included in the project design, ensuring that women will make up 50% of the estimated 25,000 beneficiaries and at least 40% of the beneficiaries of an Access and Benefit-Sharing financial mechanism that will be implemented as part of the project.

For residents, the real test lies in implementation.

“Most of this money might just go into big pockets and not to the locals,” says Tiprasa. “A lot of projects are launched in the region, but few bring actual benefit.”

He adds that many interventions fail because they do not account for local realities.

“The projects do not always consider the local challenges, so not all solutions help improve their conditions.”

Despite scepticism, some residents see promise in the project’s stated focus on community participation.

“We have always lived with this lake,” says Santo Reang, a local resident. “But no one asked us how to manage it.”

“This time, if they involve us properly, things can change,” adds Niranjan Debbarma, a fisher cooperative member. “We understand this lake better than anyone.”

The GEF noted that the GBFF recently developed one of the most stringent and progressive guidelines to ensure that Tribal Peoples and local communities are in the driver’s seat when designing and implementing every project and will act as bona fide partners in identifying priorities and implementing the project.

A Fragile Turning Point

For decades, Dumboor’s indigenous communities have adjusted to realities imposed from the outside – shifting from land to water and from stable agriculture to precarious fishing.

Now, with a new GEF-backed project on the horizon, change is possible – one that could finally recognise both the lake’s ecological importance and the people who depend on it.

But in Dumboor, hope is never uncomplicated.

For those who have lost land once before, the question is not just whether change will come but whether it will finally include them.

Note: This feature is published with the support of the GEF. IPS is solely responsible for the editorial content, and it does not necessarily reflect the views of the GEF.

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CIVICUS speaks about the climate impacts of the 2026 World Cup with Frank Huisingh, founder of Fossil Free Football, a fan-led group that campaigns to end fossil fuel sponsorship in football and make the game more sustainable.

Frank Huisingh

What makes this the most polluting World Cup ever?

The 2026 World Cup is probably the most polluting event humanity has ever staged. It is bigger than any edition before it, with 48 teams and 104 matches played across 16 host cities in Canada, Mexico and the USA.

In past tournaments, much of the pollution came from building stadiums. Qatar built its venues almost from scratch in 2022, and Saudi Arabia will pour enormous amounts of concrete into constructing new stadiums for 2034. This World Cup can at least rely on existing infrastructure. Instead, the main driver of pollution is travel. The host cities are so far apart that the only way to get between most matches is by plane, and fans are effectively forced to fly to follow their team.

Another factor is that the tournament is a giant billboard for polluters. Its sponsors include airlines such as American Airlines and Qatar Airways, carmakers like Hyundai-Kia, and Bank of America, a major financier of fossil fuels. This advertising adds significant emissions, because advertising drives up consumption.

The most concerning announcement of all was that Aramco, the Saudi state oil company and the world’s biggest oil producer, would become the World Cup’s biggest sponsor. Fossil fuel advertising works differently from the rest. It is not really about selling us our next product, since we don’t make those choices consciously, but about building influence and soft power. Aramco is using the largest platform on earth to spread its message.

This soft power matters. At the COP climate talks, Saudi Arabia is widely regarded as the worst blocker of climate action, rivalled only by Russia and now the USA. That unpopularity is exactly why it builds soft power elsewhere, by sponsoring huge events like this or fronting ads with figures such as former player Rio Ferdinand and former Arsenal manager Arsène Wenger, which will be highly visible throughout the tournament.

What’s the impact of extreme heat?

Because of climate change, summer football is now threatened by extreme temperatures it was never designed for, and FIFA has not adapted.

Fans may spend the whole day outside and then sit in the sun inside the stadium, which is dangerous for anyone, young or old. FIFA is doing little to help them stay hydrated. If anything, it is making things worse, having recently announced that people will no longer be allowed to bring their own reusable bottles into stadiums. A basic precaution would be to guarantee that fans can refill their bottles whenever they need to.

For players it can be just as serious. Teams will try to prepare for the heat, but the first reports are already coming in of players left exhausted by it in the USA. And the three-minute cooling breaks FIFA has introduced, which will be applied in every match regardless of conditions, are too short to bring players’ body temperature down or let them rehydrate properly. Experts say they should last at least six minutes.

We worked with a group of over 20 medical, climate and sports-science experts on an open letter warning that FIFA’s heat standards are genuinely dangerous, even impossible to justify. The way to measure how the body actually experiences heat is the ‘wet bulb globe temperature’, which combines air temperature, humidity, sun radiation and wind speed.

The experts, in line with the players’ union, say measures should begin at 26°C wet bulb and matches should be postponed at 28°C. Yet FIFA only takes any precaution at 32°C, and even then, postponing a match is not mandatory. That threshold is extreme. A 32°C wet bulb reading can correspond to 45°C in dry air or 35°C in high humidity, conditions in which no one should be playing sports outside at all.

So FIFA is promoting the causes of the crisis, exposing players to extreme heat and then failing to protect them. It could do so much better.

How does all of this sit with FIFA’s climate commitments?

In 2021, FIFA signed up to United Nations commitments to cut its emissions by 50 per cent by 2030 and reach net zero by 2040. It was a moment when the climate movement had real momentum and every organisation felt it had to put something down. But since then, the strategy has done little more than sit on paper, while FIFA has moved in the opposite direction.

Net zero by 2040 is a fantasy. The world won’t be net zero by then, so a travel-dependent tournament certainly won’t be either. The 50 per cent target, by contrast, is difficult but achievable. It could be reached by hosting the tournament in a smaller territory, using existing stadiums, encouraging fans to use public transport and prioritising local supporters rather than relying so heavily on international travel. International fans should absolutely be there – they are part of the experience – but it is also wonderful when the World Cup comes to town and local fans get the chance to attend.

Yet FIFA has taken no steps towards this target. Since signing up, its tournaments have only become more polluting. Politically and economically, FIFA has placed itself on the side of the fossil fuel industry and petrostates, not on the side of everyone else on the planet.

What can fans and civil society do?

Fossil Free Football is a tiny organisation, but we make as much noise as we can to hold FIFA accountable and force it to answer questions, which you can already see happening in the media. But we need many more players and fans alongside us.

Football can only survive if people can still go outside and play. So, if you love the game and care about its future, the first thing to do is speak up. Men’s football is often seen as conservative, but if you ask fans anywhere, they are as worried about the climate crisis as everyone else. That is why even talking about it with friends can make a difference, and it is where civil society activism begins.

From there, fans can call on their football associations and local clubs to act on climate. That might mean challenging a polluting sponsor, putting solar panels and a battery at the clubhouse or serving more plant-based food.

The same pressure is already working at the city level. A growing number of cities are banning fossil fuel advertising, much as we once did with tobacco when its impact on health became impossible to ignore. Amsterdam and Edinburgh have done it, and it can be replicated almost anywhere. Now football must do the same.

What lies ahead for the next World Cups?

I hope this tournament will be a wake-up call, and I fear the extreme heat and its toll on players may be what forces FIFA to change course. This summer might open the debate about moving the World Cup to winter, something that until now has only happened for Qatar.

The next event is the 2027 Women’s World Cup in Brazil, which Aramco is also set to sponsor. Tellingly, far more female players than male players have spoken out against the deal. We are campaigning to get it dropped before the tournament. It would be a shame for a country like Brazil, which has lately played a fairly positive role on climate, to host a tournament sponsored by the biggest polluter.

The 2030 World Cup will be hot too, with the tournament taking place mainly in Morocco, Portugal and Spain and with three opening matches in South America. Southern Europe and Northern Africa in summer are no place to play football. Meanwhile, stadium construction in Morocco is already drawing protests from locals and its emissions will be huge.

As for the 2034 World Cup in Saudi Arabia, eight years is a long time, especially as we are in the middle of a fossil fuel energy crisis driven by the war Israel and the USA are waging on Iran. Many Saudi infrastructure projects are already being scaled back, and the country and the world economy could look very different by then.

The risk, though, is that nothing changes politically at FIFA and the tournament goes ahead in Saudi Arabia, almost certainly in winter. That would mean yet another World Cup driving enormous emissions from construction, in a country that already imports a staggering share of the world’s concrete.

CIVICUS interviews a wide range of civil society activists, experts and leaders to gather diverse perspectives on civil society action and current issues for publication on its CIVICUS Lens platform. The views expressed in interviews are the interviewees’ and do not necessarily reflect those of CIVICUS. Publication does not imply endorsement of interviewees or the organisations they represent.

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