Over the course of 2025, global civic space conditions have deteriorated sharply, with most countries experiencing some degree of obstructed civil liberties. As authoritarian governments strengthen their hold and have even escalated the use of military force to suppress public dissent, civilians report facing increasing limitations of freedoms of association, peaceful assembly, petition and religion, as well as notable crackdowns on press freedoms.
A new study and interactive dashboard released today in Nairobi at the seventh session of the United Nations Environment Assembly (UNEA) finds that current international financial flows remain billions of dollars short of what is required to achieve the global biodiversity target of protecting and conserving at least 30 percent of the world’s land and ocean by 2030 (30x30).
At dawn in the mangrove-choked Rufiji estuary, paddles from wooden canoes slice through still waters as a soft voice drifts across the tide.
“There will never be a better time than now to invest in a stable climate, thriving ecosystems, and resilient lands, or in sustainable development that delivers for all,” said Amina J. Mohammed, the deputy Secretary-General of the United Nations, during the opening plenary of the seventh meeting of the UN Environment Assembly (UNEA-7) taking place from December 8 to 12, 2025.
A dried karam tree branch stands on the bank of a pond in a field in Datinakhali village adjacent to the Sundarbans. Despite many efforts, the tree could not be saved.
In late November, Cyclone Ditwah made landfall in Sri Lanka and southern India, bringing heavy rainfall that triggered widespread flooding and devastating landslides. The storm caused extensive damage to civilian infrastructure and resulted in a significant loss of life. Communities have been severely impacted, with limited access to essential services, while humanitarian agencies face challenges in reaching the most vulnerable populations.
Tropical Cyclone Ditwah, which made landfall in Sri Lanka on 28 November 2025, is considered the country’s worst natural disaster since the deadly 2004 tsunami. It intensified the northeast monsoon, bringing torrential rainfall, massive flooding, and 215 severe landslides across seven districts.
For years, Morris Onyango had been trying to reforest his degraded land on the shores of River Nzoia, in Siaya county, 430 kilometers from Kenya’s Capital, Nairobi. But every time he planted trees on his farm, his efforts bore little fruit, as floodwaters would not only wash away his tree seedlings but also fertile topsoil on his land.
Nature is a double-edged sword for global business. A groundbreaking report will reveal how businesses profit from exploiting natural resources while simultaneously impacting biodiversity.
“I see more philanthropic support aligning with systems thinking, linking climate stability, biodiversity protection, Indigenous leadership, and community resilience,” says Michael Northrop, Program Director at the Rockefeller Brothers Fund.
As geopolitical challenges and tensions escalate globally, one thing is clear: fragmented politics will not fix a fractured planet. This is why the United Nations Environment Assembly (UNEA) – the world’s highest decision-making body on the environment – is so critical to address our shared and emerging environmental threats.
For the past decade, Yemen has been at the center of a severe and multifaceted humanitarian crisis, marked by widespread violence between various Middle Eastern actors, widespread civilian displacement, economic decline, and the collapse of essential services that serve as lifelines for displaced communities.
CIVICUS discusses US civil society action under the second Trump administration with Bridget Moix, General Secretary of the Friends Committee on National Legislation, the oldest faith-based lobbying organisation in the USA, advocating for peace, justice and environmental stewardship. Bridget has participated in the No Kings movement, a nationwide grassroots response to democratic backsliding and attacks on rights.
As we gather in Doha for the High-Level Meeting on “Forging Ambitious Global Partnerships for Sustainable and Resilient Graduation of Least Developed Countries,” the stakes could not be higher. A record number of fourteen countries-equally divided between Asia and Africa are now on graduation track. Graduation from the Least Developed Country (LDC) category is a landmark national achievement—a recognition of hard-won gains in income, human development, and resilience. Yet, for too many countries, this milestone comes with new vulnerabilities that risk undermining the very gains that enabled graduation.
Caribbean small island states say this year’s UN climate conference has once again failed to deliver the urgency and ambition needed to tackle escalating climate devastation across the region. From slow-moving climate finance to frustrating political gridlock, leaders say COP30 did not reflect the realities that small islands are living through every day.
Although Africa holds more than 30 per cent of the world’s critical green minerals—including cobalt, lithium, manganese, and rare earth elements vital for building batteries, wind turbines and solar panels— this has not translated into prosperity for the continent.
The UN climate talks at COP30 once again brought the critical issue of climate finance to the forefront of global discussions.
However, while much of the debate revolved around traditional forms of aid directed at developing countries most vulnerable to the impacts of climate change, a faster, more
transformative approach lies in expanding access to carbon markets.
Although inequality among countries still accounts for a far greater share of income inequality worldwide than national-level inequalities, discussions of inequality continue to focus on the latter.
When the world gathered in Glasgow for COP26, the mantra was “building back better.” Two years later, in Sharm El Sheikh, COP27 promised “implementation.” This year, in Belém, Brazil, COP30 arrived with a heavier burden: to finally bridge the chasm between lofty rhetoric and the urgent, measurable steps needed to keep 1.5 °C alive.
On a warm morning at Matemwe, a small crowd gathers behind a rope barrier as the sand begins to tremble. A tiny head pushes through a soft mound of earth, then another, and another. Within minutes, the shallow nest—protected for weeks by a ring of wooden stakes and mesh—comes alive with the rustle of dozens of hatchlings. Volunteers crouch nearby, recording the emergence time and shading the small creatures with their hands to protect them from swooping gulls.
COP30 in Belém is not just another annual climate meeting; it is the 32-year report card of the world governance architecture that was conceived at the Rio Earth Summit of 1992. And that is what report card says: delivery has been sporadic, cosmetic and perilously disconnected with the physics of climatic breakdown.