First Lady of Sierra Leone, Dr. Fatima Maade Bio (center), and Bhuwan Ribhu of Just Rights for Children (left), outside the UN General Assembly. Credit: Naureen Hossain/IPS

By Naureen Hossain
UNITED NATIONS, Sep 4 2026 (IPS)

As the 80th session of the UN General Assembly draws to a close, one of the final items in its agenda was to establish an annual observance for the elimination of child marriage, raising the global profile of a pervasive social issue.

On Friday, the General Assembly unanimously adopted resolution A/80/L.99, which establishes 27 November as the International Day for the Elimination of Child, Early, and Forced Marriage, an effort initiated by Bhuwan Ribhu, founder of Just Rights for Children, and championed by Sierra Leone’s First Lady, Dr. Fatima Maada Bio.

The resolution was brought forward by Sierra Leone and co-sponsored by at least 66 other countries, including Cabo Verde, Morocco, Costa Rica, Namibia, India, Rwanda, Sudan, and Afghanistan.

The resolution calls for governments, UN organizations, civil society groups, and other parties to observe the day through public awareness campaigns, advocacy, and education efforts. It also encourages Member States to implement holistic and multi-sectoral national strategies to abolish early marriage. The observance of this day will further accelerate progress towards the Sustainable Development Goals and create a dedicated global platform to strengthen efforts for the health, education, and protection of all children, especially girls.

Bio addressed the General Assembly, calling the resolution a “call to action” and a reminder to the international community of its “collective responsibility to protect childhood and defend the dignity and rights of every girl.”

“Behind every statistic, a child, early and forced marriage is not merely a number. There is a child, there is a name, there is a dream, and there is a future. A girl who should be learning may instead be preparing for marriage. A girl who should be discovering her potential may instead be carrying responsibilities far beyond her years,” said Bio.

Ribhu, a child activist, first called for the establishment of an international day in March this year, during the Commission for the Status of Women (CSW).

The reason he recommended 27 November, Ribhu explained to the Inter Press Service, was that it is the same date as when 250 million Indians pledged to end child marriage in 2024. According to him, this was the largest mobilization on an issue in human history.

“Today marks the tipping point showing that the end of the crime of child marriage is inevitable and imminent. Now is the time for governments to provide decisive leadership to end child marriage by 2030 and ensure education, protection, and development of every child to realize their full potential,” said Ribhu, who was present at the General Assembly, the only civil society representative invited to attend.

Now that the global community has adopted this resolution, this should signal a collective movement by countries to “promote whatever decisions we have made as a global village,” Bio told Inter Press Service (IPS).

“An international day itself cannot by itself end child marriage, but political attention can, strong laws can, effective institutions can, education can… and above all, sustained political will can.”

“I think every country has to be honest and more action-oriented. When you pass a law, that is one thing, but implementing it should be the agenda… There are a lot of problems around the world, but I believe the problem of early marriage is also at the top of the global agenda.”

She elaborated on the efforts in her own country.

“In Sierra Leone, we have gone beyond just talk. We have passed the law. It’s now an act, and because it’s now an act, it’s been implemented 100 percent. We push every boundary and every barrier that will stop the act from not being what we want. So if every country decides to implement [the law] like Sierra Leone, then what we had here today would be the greatest success in the world.”

For those individuals and groups that have advocated for the abolition of early marriage, the adoption of this resolution is a milestone in the growing recognition that early marriage is a form of child sexual abuse.

This universal condemnation of child marriage is further enshrined in many national laws and global agreements like the Conventions for the Rights of the Child, which outlaw it. Yet this does not reflect the reality.

According to the UN Population Fund (UNFPA), since 2024, one in five women were married or put in an informal union before turning 18, and an estimated 640 million women alive today were married in childhood. Early marriage affects women and girls disproportionately, for they are more likely to be married off younger than men and boys. According to the World Bank, between 2015 and 2024, 19 percent of the global population of women had been married before age 18, compared to 3 percent of men who were married before age 18.

Efforts from countries like Sierra Leone further amplified the momentum in the anti-child marriage movement. Bio has been advocating for the abolition of child marriage for years, and it was through these efforts that in 2024, Sierra Leone passed a law to make child marriage illegal.

“Today, the world has spoken with one voice: child, early and forced marriage has no place in our societies,” Bio said. “This resolution is far more than symbolic—it is a global mandate for action. As mothers, leaders, and advocates, we have a duty to ensure that every girl is free to dream, to learn, and to thrive, unburdened by the chains of forced union. Sierra Leone is profoundly proud to stand at the forefront of this movement, and we look forward to the tangible progress this day will inspire.”

At the end of the session, both Bio and Ribhu spoke to reporters outside the General Assembly Hall. They acknowledged the work done before to advance this agenda and congratulated both civil society and governments for their collective efforts and solidarity. Ribhu remarked that governments need to take “decisive action” through measures like implementing budgeted action plans and responsive, accountable institutions that will enforce anti-child marriage laws and dismantle the current ecosystem that perpetuates child marriage.

“This is the beginning where the world has spoken,” said Ribhu. “Now is the time for action. So we should act. From 27th November, the action begins.”

Ribhu touted India’s example, where the joint efforts of civil society and governments resulted in a decline in child marriages by over 10 percent in the last few years, and at least 550,000 marriages were prevented through legal action.

“Child marriage has no place in the civilized world, and the end of child marriage is not only possible, but it is going to be imminent.”

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Homes and roads are covered in mud in Nuwakot District, Nepal, after devastating flash floods swept through central northern Nepal. Credit: UNICEF/Laxmi-Prasad-Ngakhusi

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

On the morning of August 26, an unprecedented series of flash floods struck Nepal and the Tibet Autonomous Region of China, causing immense destruction, killing hundreds of civilians and leaving thousands missing. Entire neighborhoods have been buried underwater and beneath mud as the Nepalese government and humanitarian organizations rush to provide emergency assistance.

“My family members were swept away by the flood in front of my eyes,” Kalpana Malla from Nepal’s Nuwakot district told reporters. “They could not escape the flood; there was no chance at all. This flood took everything, but my son and I climbed the rooftop of a house and survived, but couldn’t explain how.”

Although the direct cause of the floods is currently unknown, figures from the U.S. Geological Survey (USGS) indicate that the floods were caused by a significant glacial collapse, after previously reporting they were caused by a magnitude 4.4 earthquake. Marking a magnitude 5.2 seismic event, the subsequent debris flow and downstream collapse of seismic waves crashed over the Nepal-China border, destroying buildings and roads along the Trishuli River.

“Initial analysis of before-and-after satellite images now suggests that part of a glacier collapsed high in the mountains,” said Professor Liz Stephens, Professor in Climate Risks and Resilience at the Department of Meteorology at the University of Reading in the United Kingdom, noting that the stability of high-mountain environments is increasingly threatened by the global impacts of climate change. She adds that the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) has “high confidence” that similar “complex cascading events” could occur in the future if underlying climate factors are not addressed soon.

Entire regions in Nepal have been rendered inaccessible due to heavy flooding and mudslides, which destroyed at least 35 bridges, affected over 40 kilometers of roads, and disrupted telecommunications and electricity services in roughly 10 percent of the total affected areas. The hardest-hit regions are the Rasuwa district near Kathmandu in northern Nepal, the Nuwakot district in central-northern Nepal, and the towns of Timure, Rasuwagadhi, and Syabrubesi. According to figures from the Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA), roughly 10,000 households are in dire need of emergency assistance, with many families stripped of basic services, such as shelter, food, water supply, and access to healthcare.

Last week on August 27, Lila Pieters Yahia, the United Nations (UN) Resident Coordinator in Nepal, informed reporters during a press briefing at the UN Headquarters that at least 359 people had been killed, while 73 additional civilians had been hospitalized, though some have since been released. Yahia also stated that approximately 910 civilians remain missing, though various media outlets report the figure exceeds 1,300. Since then, Nepal officials have confirmed 900 deaths and over 4247 missing.

These numbers are projected to fluctuate in the coming days as aid personnel increasingly access isolated areas. Of those unaccounted for, Yahia noted that roughly 517 are foreign nationals spanning over 30 countries—including hundreds from China and India, alongside approximately 90 from the United States.

“Everyone in a mountain valley faces the same hazards, but tourists are more vulnerable because they may not recognize the danger or understand local warnings,” said Dr. Fatima M. Pillosu, hydrometeorologist and flash floods researcher from the Department of Meteorology at the University of Reading. “Visitors from regions where such events are rare may not appreciate how fast a mountain river can rise, nor that these valleys also face avalanches, landslides and floods from melting glaciers, even in dry weather. Knowing in advance what can happen, and what to do if it does, is one of the most useful protections.”

Children in Nepal are among the hardest-hit populations, with the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF) estimating that at least 17,000 children have been impacted. UNICEF has recorded the destruction of at least 18 schools and damage to 20. Roughly 10,000 school-age children are projected to require urgent support to continue their education, including new learning materials, access to temporary learning centers, and psychosocial support services for both children and teachers.

“Children across Rasuwa and Dhading saw their lives being literally washed away in front of their eyes in a very short span of time, with homes, classrooms, and medical facilities damaged,” said Alice Akunga, the UNICEF representative to Nepal. “Children who have survived the floods now face heightened risks of disease, malnutrition, violence and exploitation,” she said.

Yahia informed reporters that the UN and its partners are currently on the ground, providing direct support to vulnerable communities while simultaneously conducting assessments to determine the exact scale of needs. Currently, the World Food Programme (WFP) is positioned to provide equipment and emergency rations to communities on the frontlines of the crisis. Additionally, two staff members from the World Health Organization (WHO) are distributing tents, logistics support, and medical kits for about 10,000 people for roughly three months.

Although the UN has identified potential risk for additional flooding in areas of Nepal on August 27, it is working closely with the Nepalese government to scale up its life-saving operations across health, nutrition, water, sanitation, protection, and education.

In the wake of the disaster, both countries and UN entities have begun sending emergency supplies and funding for the relief efforts in Nepal. UN Under-Secretary-General for Humanitarian Affairs and Emergency Relief Coordinator Tom Fletcher announced that USD 2 million would be allocated from the UN Central Emergency Response Fund (CERF).

The U.S. State Department has pledged to send a disaster response advisor along with USD 500,000 in aid. Yahia also confirmed that Switzerland has sent more than USD 600,000 for aid, and other countries such as Japan, Australia and the United Kingdom have pledged to send aid funding and supplies in the days to come. Regional neighbors, such as India, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka, have begun sending emergency supplies.

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Closing plenary at UNCCD COP17 in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. Credit: Anastasia Rodopoulou/ENB-IISD

By Kizito Makoye
DAR ES SALAAM, Aug 31 2026 (IPS)

When the rains fail across Tanzania’s northern Maasai Steppe, herders drive their cattle farther in search of pasture and water.

Boreholes run low. Cattle lose weight, milk yields fall and families begin selling cows, often their main source of livelihood. If the dry spell persists, herds can die, leaving families facing hunger.

What is happening on the Maasai Steppe is part of a wider debate over how the world’s rangelands should be restored. At the UN desertification summit in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, governments backed a $1.2 billion programme to restore rangelands, alongside measures to repair degraded land and prepare for drought.

For African pastoralists, the question is whether that money will reach them before the next drought.

Governments, meanwhile, failed to seal a global drought agreement, pushing the dispute into another round of negotiations in Egypt in 2028.

The consequences are particularly serious in Africa, where millions depend on livestock for food and income. Restoring pasture could help pastoralists survive dry years, but it will not solve the problem if grazing routes disappear, drought warnings arrive too late or funds fail to reach the people managing the land.

“The $1.2 billion Rangelands Flagship Initiative is an important recognition that rangelands are not wastelands or marginal areas,” said Ephraim Mtengeti, Professor of Range Sciences at Sokoine University of Agriculture.

“They are productive ecosystems that support millions of people, livestock, biodiversity and important ecological functions. For Africa, where pastoralism remains central to rural livelihoods, giving these landscapes greater financial and political attention is long overdue.”

The 45 projects sit within a wider $1.3 billion programme covering land restoration and drought measures in 23 countries. About $644.5 million is new finance, while another $216 million had already been confirmed.

The pledge is substantial, but it is small compared with the scale of the funding gap. The UN Convention to Combat Desertification estimates that about $355 billion a year will be needed until 2030 to meet global land-restoration commitments. Current investment is about $77 billion.

That leaves a shortfall of roughly $278 billion a year.

Private finance accounts for only about 6% of restoration investment. Governments and development agencies are therefore looking to blended finance, using public money to make projects that might otherwise appear too risky more attractive to private investors.

Many of the benefits of restoring rangelands, however, are difficult to turn into financial returns.

Peter Bakker, president and chief executive of the World Business Council for Sustainable Development, said companies were willing to invest but needed projects that could make money.

“Business does not lack appetite for resilient supply chains, secure water and productive soil – it lacks bankable projects, credible data and a fair share of the early risk,” he said.

Mtengeti agreed that private investment was needed but warned against judging restoration solely by the returns it could generate.

“The financing gap is enormous, so it is understandable that COP17 is looking towards private capital and blended finance,” he said.

“But investors will naturally look for financial returns, whereas many of the most important benefits of rangeland restoration — water security, biodiversity, carbon storage, food security and social stability — are public goods.”

Rangelands as Economic Infrastructure

Rangelands cover about 54% of the Earth’s land surface and support roughly 2 billion people, including 500 million pastoralists. They provide pasture for livestock while storing carbon, supporting biodiversity and helping regulate water.

Restoration could generate $4 to $6 for every dollar invested, rising to as much as $36 when wider public benefits are included.

Restoring rangelands in Africa cannot simply mean fencing off land or imposing farming models designed for settled communities.

Pastoralism depends on mobility. Herders move livestock as pasture and water shift, sometimes crossing national borders.

“Rangelands cannot be restored effectively by treating them like a conventional agricultural field,” Mtengeti said.

“These are dynamic ecosystems, and pastoral mobility is one of the mechanisms through which livestock production adapts to variable rainfall and pasture availability.”

The pressure on grazing land is also increasing. Farms, roads, conservation areas and settlements are taking up more dryland, leaving less room for herders. During drought, the pressure becomes acute as people and livestock crowd around the few remaining sources of grass and water.

“Drought does not respect political boundaries,” Mtengeti said. “Pastoral systems in East Africa are interconnected, and livestock movements often respond to ecological conditions rather than national borders.”

Who Gets the Money?

COP17 also highlighted a shift towards larger, landscape-wide projects rather than small, isolated conservation schemes.

They include Kenya’s TWENDE programme, locally led adaptation financing across Africa, the $35 million Herding for Health initiative and a $100 million African Development Bank programme covering the Zambezi River Basin.

Scale alone, however, will not guarantee better results. Money can still go astray when land rights are disputed, local authorities are weak or communities struggle to gain access to funds.

“Communities should not be treated merely as beneficiaries of projects designed somewhere else,” Mtengeti said.

“They have knowledge of their landscapes, their grazing patterns and how ecosystems respond to climatic variability. That knowledge must inform the design and implementation of restoration programmes.”

Access to international finance presents another obstacle.

“If international finance remains locked behind complicated procedures that local organisations cannot access, then some of the people most exposed to drought will continue to receive the least support,” Mtengeti said.

The Drought Gap

The failure to agree on a global drought agreement was one of COP17’s biggest setbacks. The issue had already been left unresolved at COP16. Governments remained divided over whether such an agreement should be legally binding, leaving the decision until 2028.

“The postponement of a global drought instrument is disappointing because drought is no longer an occasional shock that communities can simply recover from,” Mtengeti said.

“In many dryland areas, repeated droughts are eroding livestock assets, weakening household incomes and undermining the ecological foundation on which pastoral livelihoods depend.”

Governments do not have to wait for a global agreement. More than 70 countries now have national drought plans, compared with only three in 2013.

COP17 also launched the Drought Resilience Investment Facility, which aims to raise up to $400 million from public and private sources.

Finance will also have to be matched by preparedness. Early-warning systems, reliable data, functioning institutions and water infrastructure are crucial, as is acting before drought develops into a humanitarian emergency.

“Countries should not wait for a global instrument before strengthening their own drought preparedness and investing in anticipatory action,” Mtengeti said.

The deadlock over drought came despite progress elsewhere at the summit.

Joao Campari, global food and agriculture leader at WWF, said the summit had given greater prominence to rangelands, grasslands and nature-positive farming.

“Yet hope alone will not protect nature, limit climate change or put food on the table. COP17 has laid strong foundations, but the focus must now shift to implementation on the ground and supporting local communities to deliver lasting benefits for all,” he said.

Where Will the Money Come From?

Closing the funding gap will also require governments to change policies that continue to undermine land resilience.

The UNCCD estimates that about $2.4 trillion in public finance supports environmentally harmful subsidies. Redirecting even part of that money could dwarf many of the commitments announced in Ulaanbaatar.

Governments must also protect grazing corridors, strengthen community land rights and ensure that the people managing the land receive a meaningful share of investment.

“Healthy rangelands are economic infrastructure,” Mtengeti said.

“They support livestock production, food security, employment, water systems and biodiversity. When these landscapes degrade, the costs are eventually borne by households and governments through livestock losses, food insecurity, humanitarian assistance and environmental damage.”

For pastoralists, the outcome of COP17 points to a basic reality: rangelands cannot be treated as empty land waiting for a more profitable use. They are part of the economic infrastructure on which food supplies, livelihoods and climate resilience depend.

Mtengeti said the summit had moved rangelands higher up the international agenda but that the commitments would need to be followed by action in pastoral areas.

“COP17 should therefore be seen as a step forward, but not as a solution,” he said. “The financing commitments are encouraging, and the greater attention to rangelands is important. But Africa’s dryland communities need action that is predictable, locally grounded and delivered before drought becomes a crisis.”

When governments meet again in Egypt in 2028, the value of the Mongolian pledges will be judged by what has happened in the drylands: whether pasture has recovered, livestock can move safely, communities have gained access to finance and drought losses are falling.

For pastoralists, the pledges will ultimately be measured during the next drought, when they need pasture, water and support to keep their herds alive.
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Char residents crossing the Jamuna River by boat (Stock photo, 2016).

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

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

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

Mohammad Zaman

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Views of settlements in the Rasuwa district in north-central Nepal covered in mud following the devastating flash floods that swept through the area on Aug. 26, 2026, causing widespread destruction to homes, roads and other infrastructure. CREDIT: UNICEF/UN0914644/ Skanda Gautam

By IPS Correspondent
KATHMANDU, Aug 27 2026 (IPS)

A massive geophysical disaster along the mountainous Nepal-Tibet border has left at least 160 people dead and hundreds more missing after a glacial collapse triggered devastating flash floods and mudslides on Wednesday.

According to data compiled by regional disaster management authorities, the catastrophe began high in the Himalayas. An enormous avalanche of ice and rock tore into the Lhende River, unleashing a wall of mud and water that surged downstream into the Bhote Koshi and Trishuli rivers.

The impact on the ground has been devastating. Officials in Nepal have confirmed 157 fatalities, while authorities in Tibet (China) have reported three deaths, with warnings that the toll is expected to rise. Hardest hit are Nepal’s Rasuwa and Nuwakot districts, alongside Tibet’s Gyirong County. Local police reports indicate that more than 400 people remain unaccounted for, including dozens of Nepalese emergency responders and over 340 foreign tourists, as reported extensively by international news agencies.

In response to the tragedy, UN Secretary-General António Guterres expressed deep sadness and solidarity with the affected communities, confirming that UN teams are actively mobilising aid on the ground. Simultaneously, UNICEF has highlighted the severe impact of the disaster on children and families, warning of severe long-term trauma, displacement, and immediate risks to youth in the devastated regions.

UNICEF is leveraging its local presence and its global supply hub in Copenhagen to deliver safe drinking water, medical care, and nutrition kits to the disaster zone within 72 hours.

With road access completely severed by the destruction of 19 vehicle bridges and 40 kilometres of highways, search and rescue teams are relying on helicopters to winch survivors to safety. The US, China, India, and the European Union have pledged international relief operations.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

James Michel, is Former President of the Republic of Seychelles

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Simita Kumar, Education Officer at the Pacific Community (SPC), leads an engaging activity on the biodiversity of intertidal and coral reef ecosystems with young participants at the Veivueti Kids Ocean Conference. Credit: SPC

By Sera Sefeti
SUVA, Fiji, Aug 26 2026 (IPS)

For generations, Pacific children have grown up with the ocean as part of everyday life. It is where families fish, where stories are passed down, where livelihoods begin and where cultures are rooted.

Yet many young people are inheriting an ocean facing pressures unlike anything their ancestors experienced, from warming seas and coral bleaching to plastic pollution and declining marine ecosystems.

In New Caledonia, the ocean is becoming a classroom.

Students are collecting and analysing macro-, meso- and micro-plastics, measuring coastal erosion alongside environmental specialists and removing invasive species. They are also meeting women scientists and ocean professionals, discovering not only the challenges facing the sea but also the many professions and possibilities connected to it.

The work is being led by Comité Égalité pour tous à l’école, an NGO in New Caledonia, in partnership with the Pacific Community (SPC), bringing local ocean issues into student learning through hands-on activities and real-world experiences.

“Our programme raises awareness among young people across the Pacific about the challenges and professions of the sea in all its dimensions, with particular focus on gender equality and highlighting the role of women in ocean-related careers, science, and innovation,” says Véronique Mollot Lehoullier, President of Comité Égalité pour tous à l’école.

The programme began in New Caledonia in 2021 and has since extended to French Polynesia and Vanuatu, with the ambition of developing a model that can be replicated across Oceania.

At its heart is a simple idea: children learn best when they can experience what they are being taught.

For Mollot Lehoullier, the ocean cannot be understood through theory alone.

“It is by discovering ocean-related professions firsthand, meeting women scientists and professionals, and taking part in field trips that students truly grasp the stakes of protecting and valuing lagoon ecosystems,” she says.

“This hands-on approach turns abstract awareness into lasting civic engagement, giving young people concrete role models to identify with girls and boys alike.”

Students at the Veivueti Kids Ocean Conference taking part in an interactive activity at the SPC booth, identifying marine organisms commonly found in tidal zone ecosystems. Credit: SPC

That approach is helping turn ocean education from something children read about into something they can see, touch and experience.

It is also opening a window to futures they may not have previously imagined.

For a young girl, meeting a woman working in marine science or conservation can make an ocean-related career feel possible. For boys, it reinforces that the ocean and the responsibility to protect it belong to everyone.

And the response from students has been striking.

“They don’t watch the clock, and they’re never in a hurry to finish,” Mollot Lehoullier says.

Many students do not want to return to their regular classrooms. Instead, they stay behind to continue speaking with professionals, asking questions and taking part in activities.

“These aren’t theoretical lessons but activities the students are fully part of, so for them it doesn’t feel like work at all, it feels like interactive discovery.”

That sense of discovery is becoming increasingly important as Pacific communities confront a rapidly changing ocean.

For Maëva Tesan, Information, Communication and Knowledge Officer at SPC’s Pacific Community Centre for Ocean Science (PCCOS), strengthening ocean knowledge and ocean literacy in New Caledonia is an important part of that regional effort.

“While many local organisations are already actively working in this field, we have also expanded our involvement this year through several local initiatives, including the Sea Festival and the Science Festival,” she says.

For SPC, partnering with Comité Égalité pour tous à l’école builds on the organisation’s existing role in promoting inclusive education and brings together a shared commitment to raising young people’s awareness of the ocean.

“By working together, we can combine our expertise to strengthen ocean education and inspire the next generation of ocean stewards in New Caledonia,” Tesan says.

The ambition extends beyond one country.

The programme’s reach into French Polynesia and Vanuatu reflects a broader regional approach: building on local initiatives while sharing knowledge, resources and experiences across the Pacific.

Summit participants take part in a hands-on field activity, identifying marine organisms collected for study. Credit: SPC

From New Caledonia to Fiji

Across Fiji, a quiet movement is helping change how the next generation sees the ocean. Children who once viewed the sea simply as a place to swim, fish or spend time with friends are beginning to understand something much deeper: that the future of the Blue Pacific depends on the choices they make today.

For Hannah Nanovu, Whole School Ocean Coordinator at the International School Suva, watching that transformation unfold is one of the most rewarding parts of her work.

“Every year, the students surprise and inspire me through their passion, creativity, and commitment to learning more about the ocean and taking action,” Nanovu says.

“This year, having students travel from Beqa to participate was particularly inspiring, and seeing the conference grow each year, with more schools joining and schools travelling further to be part of it, reminds me that we are building a community of young ocean advocates across Fiji.”

That growing community came together once again at Veivueti Kids Ocean Conference, where students explored the ocean not just through science, but through culture, storytelling, traditional knowledge and hands-on learning.

Since developing its Whole School Ocean Programme in 2018, the International School Suva has used the conference to create a space where students can present research, exchange ideas and discover that every child—regardless of where they come from—has a role in protecting the ocean.

Behind that movement is a broader regional effort led by the Pacific Community (SPC).

Together, these efforts are part of a growing movement to strengthen ocean literacy across the Blue Pacific.

Leotasi Kautu, School Principal from Tuvalu, presents the 3D inundation model of Funafuti, developed by SPC and the Government of Tuvalu, to map flood risk and guide climate adaptation. Credit: SPC

Science that Begins at Home

For many students, science can sometimes feel distant.

Words such as biodiversity, ocean circulation, marine ecosystems and climate change can remain confined to textbook concepts to memorise, rather than realities that surround them.

But the Pacific offers a different classroom.

For SPC, this connection between knowledge, place and lived experience is central to strengthening ocean literacy across the region.

“Pacific communities have a deep cultural and traditional connection to the ocean, but more can be done to increase knowledge about ocean ecosystems, the challenges they face, and how we can protect them,” says Doreen Tuala, Team Leader for Curriculum and Assessment at SPC.

“The best place to start addressing this need is through education, especially by engaging young people.”

The challenge and the opportunity is that there is no single Pacific classroom.

The region encompasses hundreds of islands, diverse cultures and languages, different education systems and communities whose relationships with the ocean vary from one place to another.

That means ocean education cannot simply be copied from one country to the next.

Instead, regional approaches need to create space for local knowledge, culture and experience.

Students can investigate the health of coral reefs they know, explore the importance of mangroves to their communities, examine fisheries that support their families and learn about coastal changes occurring around them.

They can also learn from elders and communities, recognising that Pacific peoples have long understood the ocean through observation, experience and generations of lived knowledge.

Tuala says connecting learning to students’ everyday lives gives them an opportunity to investigate issues that are not abstract, but immediate.

These include coral reef health, sustainable fisheries, coastal erosion, marine pollution and the impacts of climate change.

“When students can connect what they are learning to their everyday lives, local environments and cultural knowledge, they are better able to understand these challenges and explore solutions,” she says.

From Learners to Ocean Guardians

Recognising that ocean stewardship begins long before adulthood, SPC is strengthening its regional commitment to ocean literacy through partnerships, education initiatives and practical learning.

Its work includes strengthening science education through a partnership with National Geographic Pristine Seas, expanding locally relevant teaching materials through the EQAP Ocean Literacy Resources Repository, and supporting practical learning experiences such as Fiji’s Veivueti Kids Ocean Conference.

Together, these initiatives are helping bring ocean literacy into Pacific education in ways that reflect the realities of Pacific children.

“Through this partnership, we are bringing together scientific expertise, educational resources and regional networks to support countries in integrating ocean literacy into education systems,” Tuala says.

The partnership combines SPC’s curriculum expertise with National Geographic Pristine Seas’ experience in marine science, exploration and conservation.

But ambition goes beyond lesson plans.

It is about helping close a long-standing gap in structured ocean education that reflects Pacific realities allowing children to learn about marine environments through ecosystems, examples, cultures and experiences they recognize as their own.

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By Kizito Makoye
DAR ES SALAAM, Tanzania, Aug 24 2026 (IPS)

For pastoralists in Arvaikheer — a village in Mongolia’s dry central plains — rain can determine whether there is enough grass for cattle to roam, whether waterholes are replenished and whether families make it through another dry season. But as climate change makes rainfall increasingly unpredictable, even a wet season may no longer provide water and pasture needed to sustain people and livestock.

The challenges being experienced across Mongolia’s drylands are at the centre of discussions at the 17th session of the Conference of the Parties to the United Nations Convention to Combat Desertification (UNCCD COP17) in Ulaanbaatar, where governments are devising measures to tackle menacing drought, desertification and land degradation.

It is against this backdrop that the Global Environment Facility (GEF) has announced plans for a new $140 million initiative aimed at helping countries prepare for drought, strengthen resilience in drylands and reduce the growing risks to ecosystems, food security, water availability, livelihoods and health.

The Drylands and Drought Management Integrated Program will be implemented during the GEF-9 investment cycle from 2026 to 2030. It responds to requests from parties to the UNCCD for the GEF to give greater priority to financing programs related to drought resilience.

The program will focus on helping countries and communities better prepare for, monitor, assess, mitigate and respond to the cascading impacts of drought.

“Investing in healthy land and healthy people means investing in food security, climate resilience, biodiversity, water, jobs, and peace,” said the GEF Interim CEO and Chairperson, Claude Gascon, in a statement. “Through this new integrated program, we will support countries in moving from crisis response toward proactive drought resilience.”

The announcement comes as negotiators at COP17 are discussing an array of measures to tackle drought and land degradation, including financing, private-sector engagement, capacity-building and support for rangelands and pastoralists.

Participants in traditional dress take part in a cultural presentation during the 17th session of the UN Convention to Combat Desertification (UNCCD COP17) in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. Credit: Anastasia Rodopoulou/ENB-IISD

Rangelands Under Pressure

Rangelands have emerged as a major focus of the Ulaanbaatar talks.

Delegates have been discussing policies and investments for their sustainable management while recognising the importance of rangelands and pastoralist communities in addressing food insecurity, desertification, land degradation, drought, biodiversity loss and climate change.

For pastoralists, the effects of changing rainfall patterns are already devastating.

After rain, parched rangelands can quickly turn green, water sources refill and livestock gain access to fresh pasture. But the COP17 discussions have highlighted how climate change is altering these life-sustaining rains, making them more erratic and intense and reducing their effectiveness through increased runoff.

Land degradation can increase risks to human health, contribute to forced migration and intensify conflicts over scarce resources. It is also closely linked to climate change, biodiversity loss, poverty and food insecurity.

The GEF’s new program, therefore, comes at a time when drought is increasingly treated as a development and livelihood challenge rather than solely as an environmental emergency.

Aftermath of a rain storm at the 17th session of the UN Convention to Combat Desertification (UNCCD COP17) in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. Credit: Anastasia Rodopoulou/ENB-IISD

Financing Remains a Challenge

But international commitments to increase investment in drylands will face a litmus test to ensure that money reaches communities managing these landscapes.

During an open dialogue at COP17, civil society participants highlighted barriers to accessing funds as one of the challenges facing pastoralist communities, alongside pressures such as mining.

Participants called for better connections between financing and market mechanisms and the diverse local economies of pastoralists. They also urged governments and institutions to integrate targets for land degradation neutrality with pastoralist-designed and community-led initiatives.

That emphasis on local participation is significant for the GEF, which says that under GEF-9, 20 percent of resources across its family of funds are expected to directly benefit Indigenous Peoples and local communities.

Delegates at COP17 have also welcomed the Rangelands Flagship Initiative, a multi-partner global initiative led by Mongolia and the UNCCD. The initiative is built around three areas: knowledge, investment and institutions.

The GEF is supporting its development and coordination through the UNCCD COP17 Legacy Project, a $3.3 million GEF investment implemented by the International Union for Conservation of Nature. The project is leveraging an additional $8 million in co-financing from Mongolia and IUCN, according to the GEF.

The co-chair consults with the secretary during the Ulaanbaatar International Conference on Combating Desertification as delegates discuss strategies to strengthen global efforts to address land degradation, drought and desertification. Credit: Anastasia Dodopoulou/ENB-IISD

A Wider Investment Push

The new drought program is part of a broader expansion of environmental financing under GEF-9.

The investment cycle begins with an initial programming level of $3.9 billion and is designed to expand investments in nature-positive development, drought resilience and sustainable land management.

Four GEF-9 integrated programs are strongly aligned with UNCCD objectives and are expected to receive more than $800 million in GEF grant funding. They cover food systems, critical forest biomes, blue and green islands and drylands and drought management.

Drought resilience is also being given a more prominent place in the way GEF resources are allocated and measured.

The GEF-9 cycle includes a dedicated objective for implementing national drought plans, a drought vulnerability index in the formula used to calculate resource allocation to countries and new indicators to track improvements in drought resilience.

The approach reflects a growing recognition that drought can insidiously weaken ecosystems, livelihoods and food systems long before it becomes a full-blown crisis, leaving communities more exposed to the next shock.

From Crisis Response to Prevention

The GEF also plans to work with the Riyadh Global Drought Resilience Partnership, the Drought Resilience Investment Facility and other initiatives supporting resilience across drylands and rangelands.

During GEF-8, covering 2022 to 2026, the facility approved 50 projects across its family of funds supporting sustainable rangeland management and restoration and pastoralist livelihoods, with a total investment of more than $300 million.

The projects are at different stages of development and, according to the GEF, can complement the Rangelands Flagship Initiative and help take successful approaches to rangeland management and restoration to scale.

The new initiative also places a stronger emphasis on mobilising private capital.

Ten percent of total GEF-9 funding is allocated to a blended finance window, while the overall target is to use 25 percent of GEF resources to help mobilise private sector investment.

For countries vulnerable to drought, the challenge will be converting those financial commitments into practical investments that strengthen water security, restore degraded land and protect the livelihoods of communities dependent on drylands.

At COP17, where discussions on drought, rangelands, financing and pastoralist livelihoods are unfolding simultaneously, the GEF initiative offers a potentially significant new source of funding.

But the experience of pastoralist communities points to a broader question: whether global commitments and financing mechanisms can reach the people managing the land on the ground — and whether investments can arrive early enough to prevent drought from becoming a crisis.

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A street in Faizabad, the capital of Afghanistan’s northeastern Badakhshan province. Lailuma’s home province of Badakhshan has been plagued by clashes between various armed groups. Credit: Learning Together.

By External Source
FAYZABAD, Afghanistan, Aug 21 2026 (IPS)

Afghanistan has seen a number of unexplained murders in recent months.

One of the latest victims is Lailuma, the wife of well-known local singer Salam Maftoon and a community activist.

The murder took place in Ishkashim district, in the northeastern province of Badakhshan, Afghanistan, in early May. Lailuma was arriving at her restaurant when unidentified assailants shot her in a market area near the provincial government buildings.

Locals say there were several witnesses to the incident and that the attackers fled the scene immediately after the shooting. People rushed to help Lailuma, who was seriously injured, but she died before reaching the hospital. She was 35 years old.

The attackers have not yet been identified, and the motive for the murder is not officially known.

Lailuma’s senseless murder left many women in a state of terror and deep grief, locals say. Women who previously worked in tailoring workshops or at food stalls selling traditional bolani bread have now stopped working, fearing Lailuma’s fate

Lailuma is not the only victim. In May, the online media outlet Rawa News reported on several recent murders across the country. Among the victims was well-known tribal leader Hajiullah Nazar, who was shot.

According to the human rights organization Rawadar, at least, 611 people were killed or injured in targeted attacks, summary executions or other similar incidents in Afghanistan last year. This is more than 40 percent more than the previous year.

The majority of the victims were men. Among them were former government employees, people allegedly linked to the opposition, protesters, tribal leaders and other prominent figures in the community.

Targeted killings are particularly worrying in remote provinces, where the authorities’ capacity to provide security is limited, Rawa News reports. For example, Lailuma’s home province of Badakhshan has been plagued by clashes between various armed groups.

Lailuma opened a women-only restaurant and tailoring workshop in the city after the Taliban closed schools and universities to girls.

Her goal was to provide girls and women, as well as herself, with employment opportunities amid the difficult conditions in Afghanistan. At the same time, she sought to protect them from forced marriages.

Seven women worked in the restaurant and 11 girls in the tailoring workshop. The girls also received training for their work.

Lailuma also supported her family with her work, as restrictions on performing music had taken away her musician husband’s income. He has not been able to perform in concerts or festivals due to the restrictions imposed by the Taliban regime.

“I remember well how my wife worked in her restaurant together with other women and how active the girls in the tailoring workshop were. She was very enthusiastic about her work and emphasized to her colleagues that you should never lose hope,” Maftoon says.

He doesn’t understand what his wife’s “crime” was that she had to die for it.

Fatima (name changed), a 45-year-old close relative of Lailuma, says that it was the first restaurant in her village. Most residents in the area had never seen a restaurant for women only before.

“Women could go to a restaurant and eat together. It made us happy.”

Fatima can’t understand why Lailuma had to be killed.

Lailuma had already received several anonymous death threats, but she ignored them. She would often say that one day she would be able to help the women of her own village overcome their difficulties. Instead, she herself became a victim.

Lailuma’s senseless murder left many women in a state of terror and deep grief, locals say. Women who previously worked in tailoring workshops or at food stalls selling traditional bolani bread have now stopped working, fearing Lailuma’s fate.

Many of them do not even dare to attend funerals or wedding ceremonies. Recently, fewer and fewer women have been seen in the village center or at the local market.

“I don’t think any of the girls in this village dare to go to work or be active in any way. They don’t even dare to leave their homes,” says one villager.

Rahima (name changed), who also worked at Lailuma’s restaurant, says that after that day she has not dared to work again.

“That day they killed Lailuma. On another day it could be someone else from our restaurant.”

Nadia (name changed), a women’s rights activist, says that Afghan women are currently not safe even in the few jobs they still have. Most of the work available to them is related to small-scale private entrepreneurship, such as tailoring, handicrafts or, alternatively, working in a restaurant.

“Mysterious murders like this make women give up hope of getting a job or maintaining social relationships. Even life itself can seem meaningless.”

She hopes that the international community and human rights organizations will be more active in highlighting the violence and oppression experienced by Afghan women, which is present everywhere, both inside and outside the home.

Excerpt:

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

By Andrew Firmin
LONDON, Aug 21 2026 (IPS)

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

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

Birth of a movement

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

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

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

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

Protest prevails

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

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

Looking ahead

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Indigenous Peoples' organisations have called for better support for their meaningful participation at COP 17 and across this year’s Rio Conventions gatherings. Credit: Anastasia Rodopoulou/IISD/ENB

By Naureen Hossain
UNITED NATIONS, Aug 18 2026 (IPS)

Indigenous communities have long advocated for the environment through the lens of their traditional knowledge systems and cultures. But much more work needs to be done to translate their presence into influence.

A new report from Nia Tero, an international nonprofit that aims to strengthen Indigenous guardianship over ancestral lands and waters, examines the factors that have limited Indigenous Peoples’ influence in global environmental decision-making.

The report, “Beyond Fragmentation: Advancing Coherence, Equity, and Indigenous Leadership Across the Rio Conventions”, was formally launched at the 17th Conference of the Parties to the UN Convention to Combat Desertification (UNCCD), or COP17, currently underway in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, during a side event focused on strengthening coherence across the Rio Conventions.

The UNCCD is one of three climate frameworks that emerged from the 1992 United Nations Conference on Environment and Development, held in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. It, along with the Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD) and the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC), is one of the landmark global conventions that address environmental crises of climate change, biodiversity loss and desertification in the modern age.

This year, all three conventions will be hosting climate conferences, starting with UNCCD COP17, which makes it an appropriate occasion to launch the report, according to Margarita Mora, Chief Programmes Officer at Nia Tero.

The goal of the report, Mora told Inter Press Service, is to “encourage Parties, UN bodies, and funders to better support Indigenous Peoples’ meaningful participation here and across this year’s Rio Conventions gatherings”.

Margarita Mora, Chief Programmes Officer, Nia Tero. Credit: Nia Tero

“Launching the report at COP17 helps draw greater attention to the UNCCD, which remains the least known of the three Rio Conventions, and starts a conversation we can carry into the climate and biodiversity COPs later this year,” said Minnie Degawan of the Kankanaey-Igorot, an indigenous group from northern Luzon, Philippines, and the Managing Director, FSC Indigenous Foundation.

The report examines Indigenous Peoples’ recognition and participation in the Rio Conventions. Climate change, biodiversity loss and land degradation are all interconnected. These all impact lands and territories, which are “central to Indigenous Peoples’ identity, cultures, and ways of life,” Degawan, the report’s author, told Inter Press Service.

Drawing on expert interviews and surveys with participants, the report reveals what it describes as a fragmented response to these issues. While environmental harms are interconnected, they are governed through their frameworks, institutions and funding streams. This siloed approach to the Rio Conventions presents challenges to Indigenous Peoples. Representatives may be expected to attend multiple conferences where they discuss related issues through different institutional structures. Thus, they address topics like safeguards, territorial governance, and traditional knowledge separately.

Minnie Degawan of the Kankanaey-Igorot, an indigenous group from northern Luzon, Philippines, and the Managing Director, FSC Indigenous Foundation. Credit: SC Indigenous Foundation

The recognition of Indigenous Peoples has seen considerable progress since the Rio Conventions were first introduced. Traditional leaders and activists have advocated for the formal acknowledgement of Indigenous rights in these climate frameworks, their efforts spanning decades. The report notes that this recognition is not consistent across the frameworks.

Neither the UNFCCC nor the UNCCD explicitly referenced Indigenous Peoples or their rights in their original texts. However, subsequent decisions, provisions and ongoing advocacy have strengthened the recognition of Indigenous Peoples, their rights and their participation within the two frameworks. On the other hand, the CBD directly references Indigenous and local communities in its original framework, acknowledging their dependence on biological resources in accordance with traditional knowledge that is relevant to biodiversity efforts.

Since then, Indigenous people’s engagement within the Rio Conventions can be measured in a few ways, including a broader recognition of them as stakeholders within these processes, participation in formal and informal conferences, and a recognition of traditional knowledge in addressing environmental challenges.

While the visibility and participation of Indigenous representatives has increased over the years, this does not necessarily translate into meaningful influence when it comes to decision-making processes. The decisions in these frameworks are largely determined by the States, with insufficient input from Indigenous Peoples at these conferences. Indigenous Peoples still attend climate conferences as observers, with limited influence in formal text negotiations. The influence should “[go] beyond having Indigenous Peoples in the room”, Degawan said.

As she elaborates in the report, Indigenous Peoples’ participation in text negotiation is somewhat limited. Most of their involvement in climate conferences takes place in side events or informal dialogues. This is ironic, given that the report was launched at a side event. Structural barriers such as language constraints, accreditation issues, travel and visa issues and insufficient funding only further limit opportunities.

This is also indicative of a wider issue of the cost of participation. Indigenous representatives are expected to attend multiple meetings, which require extensive investments and resources. This is in service to increasing their visibility, but at present it creates a risk of burnout and a concentration of knowledge and expertise among what is a relatively small group of experienced negotiators and technical experts.

All of these factors emphasise the need to improve conditions for Indigenous Peoples to enact meaningful influence in climate discussions. “It means creating the conditions for Indigenous Peoples to actually shape decisions – from setting priorities and contributing to negotiating texts before they are finalised to influencing how commitments are implemented and financed,” Degawan said.

What Degawan and the report observe is that representatives can build on existing benchmarks within the Rio Conventions and identify where their participation has been stronger, so they can apply these strategies across all three. This would mean building greater coherence among existing structures so that different institutions and actors work together in a way that reflects the interconnected nature of environmental challenges and the realities Indigenous Peoples experience. For their part, Nia Tero are dedicating their efforts to supporting coordinated Indigenous engagement during UNCCD COP17.

“The goal is not to create new benchmarks, but to ensure that progress in one convention can help raise the standard for meaningful Indigenous Peoples’ participation across the others,” Degawan said.

“The real measure of progress is whether participation translates into meaningful influence over negotiations and decisions affecting Indigenous Peoples and ancestral territories. Full, meaningful inclusion of Indigenous Peoples at this and the following Rio Conventions COPs will put the international community – not just Indigenous Peoples – in the best position to achieve humanity’s shared goals for a healthy, prosperous planet,” said Mora.

The report recommends that the convention secretariats move beyond making rhetorical commitments and take practical steps, including improving Indigenous Peoples’ access to negotiating spaces and providing them with more opportunities to input into negotiating texts. These bodies should also strengthen safeguards to ensure Indigenous participation mechanisms are not treated in isolation.

Progress in their participation across the Rio Conventions warrants reflection on Indigenous Peoples’ representation in other frameworks. Within the context of broader structural changes, such as those introduced under the UN80 initiative, there have been questions of consolidating mandates in the name of increasing efficiency in the UN system, which should serve every member of the international community.

Degawan warned that Indigenous representatives are concerned over a potential weakening of the hard-won gains in recognition and formal spaces within the UN system. Any reforms should therefore, she said, build on these gains rather than roll them back.

The full report is available at www.niatero.org/RioReport

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SBI7 Secretariat in a huddle. Credit: IISD/ENB | Danny

By Stella Paul
NAIROBI, Aug 18 2026 (IPS)

Despite record participation in global biodiversity reporting and planning processes, countries remain off track to meet the world’s 2030 biodiversity goals, according to discussions that concluded this month at two key meetings under the Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD).

Delegates left Nairobi with a package of recommendations on conservation, finance, business accountability and implementation that will now move to COP17 in Yerevan, Armenia, where governments will assess collective progress under the Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework (KMGBF).

The warning emerged from two back-to-back meetings under the Convention on Biological Diversity: the 28th meeting of the Subsidiary Body on Scientific, Technical and Technological Advice (SBSTTA-28), held from 27 July to 1 August 2026, and the seventh meeting of the Subsidiary Body on Implementation (SBI-7), held from 4 to 12 August 2026. Together, the meetings were the last major negotiating session before COP17, which kicked off yesterday (August 18, 2026), where governments will conduct the first formal review of collective progress towards the KMGBF and consider measures to speed up implementation in the second half of the decade.

A Global Review Reveals the Gap Between Commitment and Delivery

The first global review of the KMGBF dominated discussions across both meetings. The review came at the halfway point between the adoption of the framework in 2022 and its 2030 deadline, drawing on an unprecedented volume of national submissions. By February 2026, 172 parties had submitted national biodiversity targets aligned with the framework, while 130 parties had filed national reports on implementation.

The assessment also examined 85 National Biodiversity Strategies and Action Plans (NBSAPs), more than 180 commitments from non-state actors, submissions from multilateral organisations, and dozens of case studies from Indigenous Peoples and local communities.

Taken together, the submissions painted a mixed picture. Governments have integrated the framework into national planning processes at an unprecedented rate, but progress remains uneven. The review found encouraging movement on several conservation-related targets, while action on biodiversity finance, subsidy reform, business accountability and inclusive governance lagged behind. It also exposed significant weaknesses in monitoring and reporting, with countries citing data gaps, financial constraints, limited technical capacity and institutional challenges as barriers to tracking progress.

The overarching conclusion was clear: despite growing engagement, the world is not on track to achieve the framework’s 2030 targets.

“It is true that progress is being made across all targets. However, implementation is not yet happening at the pace and scale needed to achieve the KMGBF. Fewer than half of aligned national targets assessed by Parties are currently on track, with some of the largest gaps in mobilising biodiversity finance, reforming harmful subsidies, addressing business impacts and dependencies, and shifting toward sustainable consumption,” said Astrid Schomaker, executive secretary of the CBD.

Jennifer Tauli Corpuz, of IIFB, spoke at the SBI on August 9. She called for Indigenous Peoples and local communities’ greater engagement in decision-making processes. CREDIT: IISD

Wildlife, Technology and Emerging Governance Challenges

The implementation gap was reflected across several of the issues discussed in Nairobi, from wildlife management and emerging technologies to business accountability and biodiversity finance.

Discussions on sustainable wildlife management and synthetic biology highlighted the growing complexity of biodiversity governance. Delegates debating sustainable wildlife management moved well beyond questions of species conservation, examining how biodiversity policies intersect with livelihoods, equitable benefit-sharing, community participation and the rights of Indigenous Peoples and local communities.

The discussions reflected a growing recognition that conservation measures are more likely to succeed when they incorporate social and economic considerations alongside ecological objectives. Representing the International Indigenous Forum on Biodiversity (IIFB), Jennifer Tauli Corpuz argued that effective wildlife management depends on the “transparent, structured and meaningful participation” of Indigenous Peoples and local communities in decision-making processes.

Synthetic biology presented a different set of challenges. While delegates broadly agreed on the need to strengthen capacity-building, scientific cooperation and knowledge-sharing, discussions also exposed ongoing questions about how international biodiversity institutions should respond to rapidly evolving technologies. As scientific innovation advances, governments are increasingly being asked to balance potential benefits with concerns related to governance, risk management and oversight.

Taken together, the two agenda items illustrated how biodiversity negotiations are evolving. Future CBD discussions are likely to focus increasingly on balancing ecological objectives with technological innovation, social equity and effective governance.

Business Accountability Under Greater Scrutiny

A major focus of SBSTTA-28 was the Intergovernmental Science-Policy Platform on Biodiversity and Ecosystem Services (IPBES) Business and Biodiversity Assessment, which examined how companies and financial institutions influence biodiversity outcomes.

Presenting the findings, IPBES Chair David Obura said the assessment identifies more than 100 practical actions that companies can take across their operations, supply chains and financial portfolios to reduce biodiversity impacts and support nature recovery.

“Businesses can no longer be seen only as drivers of biodiversity loss. They are also an essential part of the solution,” Obura said, adding that companies already have tools available to begin addressing biodiversity risks and dependencies.

The assessment linked many recommendations to KMGBF Target 15 on business disclosure and accountability. Negotiations highlighted continuing debates over disclosure requirements, supply-chain transparency and biodiversity impact reporting, underscoring growing expectations that corporate biodiversity impacts be measured rather than merely acknowledged.

The opening plenary of the 28th meeting of the Subsidiary Body on Scientific, Technical and Technological Advice (SBSTTA-28) of the Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD) at the United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP) Headquarters in Nairobi, Kenya. CREDIT: Ahmed Nayim Yussuf/UNEP

Finance Emerges as a Central Political Challenge

At SBI-7, discussions shifted from technical issues to implementation challenges, including resource mobilisation, capacity-building, biodiversity mainstreaming and the Convention’s financial mechanisms.

The prominence of finance was closely linked to the findings of the global review, which identified finance among the weakest-performing areas of the framework. Although biodiversity finance has increased since the KMGBF was adopted, the review concluded that progress remains insufficient and that the 2025 milestone of mobilising USD 20 billion annually in international biodiversity finance was likely not achieved. Countries also reported continued challenges in securing financial resources, technology transfer and technical support needed for implementation.

These findings shaped much of the discussion at SBI-7, where delegates debated resource mobilisation, the Convention’s financial mechanism and the role of the Cali Fund, which is intended to channel private-sector contributions toward biodiversity conservation. While broad agreement exists on the need for greater biodiversity finance, significant differences remain over how resources should be raised, governed and distributed.

Echoing concerns raised by many developing countries, a delegate from the African Union stressed that “adequate, predictable and accessible financial resources are essential conditions for developing countries to translate global commitments into concrete national actions”.

“Ambition alone is not enough to accelerate implementation: it requires commensurate means,” he added.

Youth and Gender Advocates Push for More Inclusive Governance

Youth representatives from the Global Youth Biodiversity Network (GYBN) welcomed progress on sustainable wildlife management but argued that current recommendations do not go far enough on business accountability, calling for stronger provisions on transparency, traceability and biodiversity impact assessments throughout wildlife-related supply chains. More broadly, youth advocates also called for greater inclusion in biodiversity decision-making. “A global review of progress is incomplete if it does not reflect the information, concerns, needs and priorities of youth and other rights-holders,” said a GYBN delegate.

Preparations ahead of COP17 have also drawn greater attention to gender-responsive biodiversity governance. In Armenia, the CBD Women’s Caucus, together with the Armenian COP17 Presidency, the CBD Secretariat and the Raoul Wallenberg Institute, organised a training programme to strengthen women’s participation in biodiversity policy processes.

Mrinalini Rai of Women4Biodiversity argued that women, youth, Indigenous Peoples and local communities are not simply stakeholders but rather “key actors in the implementation, monitoring and review of the framework.” She said their knowledge systems, leadership and contributions are fundamental to ensuring biodiversity policies are “equitable, inclusive and effective”.

These discussions reflect a growing recognition that implementation challenges are not only technical or financial but also institutional and that broader participation is essential to strengthening biodiversity governance and implementation.

Looking Ahead to COP17

Despite the challenges identified in the review, Schomaker expressed optimism about the road to COP17.

“I think that we can all leave Nairobi with a sense of satisfaction at what we have accomplished here, but the task awaiting us in Yerevan in nine weeks will take all the stamina and determination that Parties can summon.”

When governments gather in Yerevan in October for COP17, they will face a clear challenge: turning commitments into the financial, institutional and policy action needed to keep the framework’s 2030 goals within reach.

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Participants in traditional dress take part in a cultural welcome at the UNCCD COP17 venue in Ulaanbaatar on Aug. 17, 2026, highlighting the cultural diversity of communities whose livelihoods are closely linked to rangelands. Credit: UN photo

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

After moving more than 6,000 km across Eurasia, the Silk Road Caravan has reached Mongolia with stories from pastoralists whose livelihoods are increasingly threatened by drought, degraded land and shrinking access to grazing areas.

Since leaving Türkiye in May, the thud of horse hooves has echoed through landscapes in the Russian Federation, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan and China. Along the way, its riders met pastoralists adapting to a harsher climate and deteriorating rangelands. Now their experiences have converged in Ulaanbaatar, where the caravan’s final leg coincides with the opening of COP17 of the United Nations Convention to Combat Desertification. Governments, scientists, financial institutions, businesses and civil society have gathered there to address the pressures on the world’s drylands.

The journey has brought an old question into the spotlight: can global efforts to restore rangelands succeed without the knowledge of the people who have managed them for generations?

Delegates in traditional attire gather at the UNCCD COP17 venue in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, on Aug. 17, 2026, as the conference brings together pastoralists, Indigenous representatives and policymakers to discuss land degradation, drought and rangeland restoration. Credit: UN photo

For centuries, caravans travelling the ancient Silk Road carried goods, ideas and cultures between distant civilisations. This one has carried stories of communities trying to keep up their land productive and their livelihoods intact as drought and degradation spread across drylands from Eurasia to Africa.

Its arrival on the eve of COP17 highlights the conference’s challenge of turning commitments to land restoration into action on the ground.

Land Degradation

Land degradation and drought cost the global economy USD 900 billion annually and affect 40% of the world’s land and 3.2 billion people. Droughts have increased by almost one-third since 2000 and generate at least USD 300 billion in annual losses, according to UN data.

For Tanzania’s pastoralist communities, Neema Seki, an Indigenous women and youth advocate connected to the Pastoralist Women’s Council, urged world leaders in Ulaanbaatar to guarantee land security for pastoral communities.

“The most rapidly changing aspect is access to land. This by implication affects everything else in pastoral livelihoods. Without land tenure security, livestock health is impacted, mobility is affected, and family food security is affected,” she told IPS.

Her warning is central to the COP17 debate as land degradation increasingly threatens pastoralist women’s rights, livelihoods and mobility.

“In a pastoralist setting, women play a significant role that is oftentimes not stated. If livestock health deteriorates, women are mostly responsible for feeding them, bringing water from far distances to water the ailing or weak livestock,” Seki said.

She added that restrictions on pastoral livelihoods can also create a gendered burden that national climate and conservation policies rarely capture.

“Another aspect is a reality that when the pastoral livelihoods are dismantled by restrictions on access to resources, women oftentimes remain in the land to suffer while men are able to go into cities to look for work while women remain with children at home.”

Mongolian ceremonial guards stand beside the national flag during the opening of UNCCD COP17 in Ulaanbaatar on Aug. 17, 2026. The conference is focused on accelerating global action on land restoration and drought resilience. Credit: UN photo

That experience is echoed thousands of kilometres away in Niger, where Abarchi Harouna, a pastoralist leader with the association Nodde Nooto and co-chair of the International Year of Rangelands and Pastoralists for West and Central Africa, argues that mobility itself is an environmental management tool.

“Mobility is essential to pastoralism because it allows livestock keepers to search for water, pasture and salt wherever they are available,” Harouna told IPS.

For nomadic pastoralists such as Tanzania’s Maasai, restricting traditional migration corridors directly affects livelihoods.

“When governments restrict access to traditional routes and water points, nomadic pastoralists are deprived of pasture, water and salt,” he said.

“This can lead to a pastoral crisis, with significant livestock deaths and even conflicts between farmers and herders.”

Relevance in Mongolia

Similar pressures are evident in Mongolia, where pastoralism is key to the economy, yet nearly 77 percent of the country’s land suffers from degradation. Rangelands cover about 70 percent of its territory and support the livelihoods of roughly one-third of the population, leaving pastoral communities exposed to climate shocks.

Rangelands cover 54% of the Earth’s land surface, support about 2 billion people and provide nearly 70% of global livestock feed and one-sixth of the world’s food. Yet up to half are degraded, particularly in dry regions facing mounting climate pressures.

Harouna challenges a persistent narrative that pastoralism itself is responsible for land degradation.

“Livestock keepers are never responsible for land degradation. This narrative is incorrect. Livestock mobility ensures the health of pastures.”

He points instead to the ecological functions performed by mobile herds.

“Animals carry the seeds of grasses and woody plants from one place to another, thereby enriching biological diversity.”

Manure, he said, fertilises soils, while trampling can loosen compacted ground.

“The knowledge of livestock keepers helps governments and all stakeholders restore degraded land and improve resilience to climate change.

For Seki, a similar knowledge system exists in Tanzania but is increasingly undermined by government policies.

“One of the greatest traditional knowledge practices by pastoralists which is being wrongly discouraged by government policies is pastoral mobility,” she said.

The implications extend to a younger generation that, despite the pressures, has not necessarily abandoned pastoralism.

“Young pastoralists still see pastoralism as the best livelihood system. They are, however, daily confronting the ugliness caused by state-restrictive policies and the climate crisis,” Seki said.

The Economics of Waiting

COP17 organisers are seeking to frame restoration not just as an environmental obligation but also as an economic investment.

The conference estimates that about USD 355 billion is needed every year to combat land degradation and drought, compared with the current investment of roughly USD 77 billion. That leaves an annual financing gap of USD 278 billion.

The private sector currently contributes only around six percent of global finance for land restoration and drought resilience.

Closing that gap will be central to the negotiations.

The conference will explore ways of reducing investment risks and encouraging businesses, financial institutions and governments to finance regenerative landscapes. An initiative linked to the COP has recorded commitments of more than USD 9 billion across more than 210 million hectares.

The argument for investment is strengthened by the potential returns: every dollar invested in drought resilience can generate returns of up to USD 10, while some nature-based solutions can generate benefits many times their cost.

UNCCD Executive Secretary Yasmine Fouad has described the challenge bluntly: “The world does not lack solutions; the challenge is taking them to scale.”

From Commitments to Measurable Results

Mongolia’s Prime Minister N. Uchral has called for a shift “from talk to action, from targets to implementation, and from commitments to measurable results”.

The conference comes at a time when multilateral cooperation faces pressure and the world’s environmental crises grow increasingly interconnected. Land degradation affects food production. Drought intensifies water insecurity. Loss of vegetation contributes to biodiversity decline. Livelihood losses can drive migration and deepen competition over scarce resources.

As the first of the three Rio Convention COPs being held in 2026, COP17 offers an opportunity to connect land policy with negotiations on biodiversity and climate change later in the year.

It is also taking place during the International Year of Rangelands and Pastoralists, giving pastoral communities a prominent place in the global policy calendar.

Seki argues that women and young people should be recognised as custodians of knowledge and resources.

“Women and young people play a great role in the pastoral system. This role extends to forest stewardship and resource management.”

Yet, she said, traditional knowledge often gets sidelined.

“Both women and young people are discouraged by state policies and conservation policies from using traditional knowledge for ecology and nature sustainability.”

COP17’s agenda includes a proposed policy framework on rangelands and pastoralists and the launch of a Rangelands Flagship Initiative aimed at attracting long-term investment into sustainable rangeland management and pastoral livelihoods.

For Harouna, restrictions on livestock mobility potentially affect agriculture, pastoral production and the environment. He warns that declining soil fertility could trigger dismal crop yields, while degraded grazing areas could foster invasive pests, consequently affecting livestock and reducing milk and meat supplies.

Exchange of Knowledge

The Silk Road Caravan’s final journey across Mongolia will take participants from the Gobi Desert to the country’s central forests and grasslands. They are expected to meet nomadic herder families, researchers, local authorities and pastoral cooperatives and visit restoration projects.

The challenge for delegates is to ensure the caravan’s lessons continue beyond the conference.

For dryland communities in Tanzania, Niger and Mongolia, restoration can determine whether livestock survive, families remain on their land, food production continues and ecosystems endure.

As the conference opens under the theme “Restoring Land. Restoring Hope”, its success may depend on whether the afflicted communities living on vulnerable landscapes receive the space, resources and recognition they need to restore and manage them.

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CIVICUS discusses the challenges posed by Paraguay’s ‘anti-NGO law’ with Hugo González, executive director of the Paraguayan Network of LGBTQ+ Artists (REPAR+), a civil society organisation (CSO) that promotes the rights of LGBTQI+ people, which has joined the constitutional challenge against this law.

Hugo González

What are the problems with Law 7363?

The law was enacted in November 2024, and its regulations came into force in October 2025. It applies to CSOs that receive or manage private or public funds from national or international sources and use those funds to influence public policy or state activities. The regulatory decree defines influence broadly, including reports, press releases and other forms of public expression.

The law establishes a public register administered by the Ministry of Economy and Finance and requires balance sheets, minutes, supporting documents and annual reports on programmes, beneficiaries, professionals, staff and affiliated entities. It also prohibits reference to donor confidentiality to circumvent these controls and provides for sanctions ranging from a formal warning to suspension and deregistration.

Civil society doesn’t oppose transparency. We were already complying with civil, labour, tax and anti-money laundering obligations, so this law was unnecessary. We call it the ‘big stick law’ because it duplicates controls, uses broad definitions and turns public advocacy into a risk factor that triggers extraordinary scrutiny for punitive purposes.

In what political context was the law passed?

The bill was passed thanks to the majority held by the ruling Colorado Party. The process moved forward against a backdrop of stigmatisation of CSOs, human rights activists and journalists, and coincided with the work of a congressional committee that framed CSO funding within a narrative centred on money laundering.

The law also reflected the convergence between parts of the ruling coalition and conservative religious networks. Among its main proponents were legislators such as Gustavo Leite and Lizarella Valiente, who have also participated in activities and initiatives linked to evangelical organisations. While this doesn’t prove that these organisations drafted or funded the law, it does highlight an asymmetry in access and scrutiny between groups that influence public policy.

The law treats different groups that influence the same policies very differently. It imposes extensive controls on CSOs but expressly exempts churches and religious groups.

What impact is the new law having?

The impact began even before the first sanctions were imposed. Ever since the Ministry of Economy and Finance launched the registration portal, CSOs have had to devote time, money and staff to complying with the new accounting, administrative and legal requirements. For small organisations or those run by volunteers, this means that a large proportion of their resources is no longer being channelled into activities, assistance, research or support services.

Uncertainty is also a factor. Although sanctions are not yet being applied on a large scale, the law is having a deterrent effect. Donors, organisations and supporters fear the consequences of getting involved or advocating for causes.

The obligation to provide detailed information on beneficiaries and supporters poses privacy risks, particularly in small communities and among vulnerable groups. The safety of these people depends on who has access to the information, for what purpose and with what effective safeguards.

What obstacles do LGBTQI+ organisations face, and how does the new law exacerbate them?

In Paraguay, gender and diversity organisations operate in a context of structural discrimination, characterised by hate speech, exclusion from education and the labour market, barriers to accessing healthcare and difficulties in reporting violence. Added to this is the lack of a comprehensive anti-discrimination law, legal recognition for same-sex couples and accessible administrative procedures for the recognition of gender identity. All this leaves LGBTQI+ people in a particularly vulnerable situation.

Law 7363 exacerbates these difficulties, as it imposes broad and unclear requirements on CSOs that defend these rights. REPAR+’s artistic activities can be regarded as advocacy, culture and support all at once. The vagueness of the law, combined with discretionary powers and the threat of suspension, makes it impossible to predict how these activities will be classified, and could stifle critical voices before any sanction is imposed.

How has civil society mobilised to challenge the law at the Supreme Court?

The response has combined dialogue, international appeals, litigation and technical analysis. Since December, CSOs working on community development, culture, the environment and human rights, as well as rural communities, have filed constitutional challenges against the law and its implementing decree. REPAR+ has joined the effort because we believe freedoms of association and expression are essential for organisations that support LGBTQI+ people, denounce discrimination and engage in public policy.

We hope that the Constitutional Chamber of the Supreme Court will examine these challenges independently and urgently, in the light of the Constitution, the American Convention on Human Rights and the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. A favourable ruling would directly protect the organisations bringing the challenges and establish an important precedent. We don’t seek to be exempt from accountability. We seek to prevent a regulatory process from becoming a form of political surveillance, exposing vulnerable people or serving as punishment for dissent.

What action is needed in and outside Paraguay to reverse these restrictions?

Within Paraguay, the court must rule urgently and prevent irreparable harm while it considers the merits of the case. However, a lasting solution requires Congress and the executive to repeal or comprehensively modify the law, through a pluralistic consultation process. Any regulation should be precise, avoid duplicate registrations and protect beneficiaries, donors, victims and workers. Intrusive requests should be subject to independent scrutiny and sanctions should be limited to what is strictly necessary and proportionate. These criteria should apply equally to anyone who manages public funds or influences policy, including religious organisations.

The international community could continue to monitor the situation at the United Nations, particularly through the Human Rights Council Universal Periodic Review process, and at the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights. It can also take action through embassies and cooperation agencies. Donors should offer flexible support to cover accounting, legal, security and technological costs, rather than withdrawing out of fear of the new regime.

Paraguay also needs a comprehensive anti-discrimination law, effective recognition of gender identity and protection for human rights defenders and journalists.

We are not asking for external guardianship or privileges. We are calling for democratic solidarity to preserve a space where people can organise, question and propose ideas. Transparency should strengthen democracy, not expose vulnerable people or turn criticism of those in power into a cause for suspicion.

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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Paraguay: arbitrary detention of land rights defenders CIVICUS Monitor 24.Apr.2026
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Paraguay: ‘The new law’s purpose is to increase government control over civil society’ CIVICUS Lens | Interview with Marta Ferrara and Olga Caballero 25.Oct.2024

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

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

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

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

Mohammad Zaman

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

IPS UN Bureau

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UN Indonesia Solar power is widely used on the islands of Java, Madura, and Bali. Credit: UN News

By Delia Paul
MELBOURNE, Australia, Aug 10 2026 (IPS)

In much of the Asia-Pacific region, energy is a success story. Electricity access has greatly increased and the use of clean cooking fuels is now widespread. The region has kept pace with the rest of the world in adopting renewable energy. Many countries have made energy efficiency gains; the Republic of Korea is one of those in the lead worldwide. Progress has continued even in the face of recent energy crises sparked by the war in Ukraine and conflict over the Strait of Hormuz.

Yet, this year’s High Level Political Forum on sustainable development (IHLPF) in New York— a yearly event to review progress on the global Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) —sounded some warning bells.

With SDG 7 on energy, the international community agreed to ensure universal access to affordable, reliable and modern energy services. Clean cooking fuels are part of that transition. SDG 7 also set targets to increase substantially the share of renewable energy in the global energy mix, and double the rate of improvement in energy efficiency. On all these measures, Asia-Pacific countries have done well. This year’s HLPF, however, raised some important questions.

Firstly, success is a matter of definition. In 2010, Central and South Asian countries accounted for 36 per cent of the world’s electricity-access deficit; by 2024, that proportion had shrunk to just 3 per cent, a turnaround that the UN’s latest report of progress on SDG 7 attributes to rapid grid expansion, regional power market integration, and rising incomes. That achievement is nuanced, however, when we consider the livelihood dimension, where many countries still face challenges especially in rural areas.

Vijay Modi, a professor at Columbia University and director of its Laboratory for Sustainable Energy Solutions, addressing HLPF delegates on the first day of the talks, noted that access is not the same as affordability. Affordable energy is needed, for example, to run the water pumps for farm irrigation, and to light shops that may want to extend their opening hours — aspects of electricity access that are missed, if focusing only on household-level energy services.

Secondly, generalised statistics can mask the true scale of the challenge that still remains. The share of people using clean fuels and technologies for cooking has nearly doubled across most of Asia since 2010. Central, South, East and Southeast Asian countries have done especially well: India alone is responsible for about 40 percent of the worldwide reduction in the clean-cooking access deficit, China for roughly 30 percent, and Indonesia for about 10 percent.

In terms of percentage points, this all looks great. In terms of absolute numbers, though, India still has the largest numbers of people without access to electricity services and clean cooking fuels; China ranks third in the world; Indonesia ranks 16th. These are countries with large populations, where a percentage point gained in access represents many more people than a percentage point gained in a smaller country. While their progress should be applauded, the challenge is far from over.

Third is the question of financing. From 2023 to 2024, international financial flows for clean energy fell in Central, South, East and Southeast Asia. That is a troubling trend, given that much remains to be done. The role of public utilities remains crucial.

In the 1990s and 2000s, Cambodia’s state utility, Electricité du Cambodge, transformed the fragmented, war-torn nation’s power grid into a unified network, partnering with independent power producers, using foreign investment to build transmission lines and power stations, and prioritising electricity connections and financing for low-income households. Such success is not a given.

Damilola Ogunbiyi, Special Representative of the Secretary-General for Sustainable Energy for All and Co-Chair of UN-Energy, reminded the HLPF that in Africa, some utilities have not achieved viability and are facing bankruptcy. “It’s about finance, at the end of the day,” she said, while highlighting that renewable energy is the least-cost pathway to meeting energy needs worldwide.

The current geopolitical situation only strengthens the case for increasing uptake of renewables and decreasing reliance on traditional fossil fuels, said Francesco La Camera, Director-General of the International Renewable Energy Agency (IRENA). This process, he noted, could be accelerated through mini-grids, peak time management (strategies to reduce and shift electricity consumption away from peak demand times), and removal of trade barriers to renewable energy technologies. Some of this is already happening in Asia, but with just four years to go until the 2030 deadline for achieving the SDGs, UN monitoring shows that progress is insufficient.

Globally, four structural trends are holding back progress. They are explained in the 2026 UN report, “Tracking SDG 7: The Energy Progress Report.” Progress on reducing energy intensity has mainly been achieved in industry, and is now slowing. Energy efficiency standards don’t necessarily match the technology available in the marketplace. Demand for air conditioning has increased, pushing up electricity demand. Growth in electricity demand now outstrips the supply of renewable energy that is actually available. Tackling just one of these barriers — let’s say energy intensity, for example — would require tripling the rate of progress in the next four years.

For now, the UN has launched a new work programme to accelerate action leading up to the 2030 deadline for the SDGs. On the current rate of progress, the world will probably not meet all the SDG 7 targets. But, given the energy gains already made in this region, Asia-Pacific countries may do better than others.

Dr Delia Paul is an associate of the International Institute for Sustainable Development, and is affiliated with Monash University’s Global Peace and Security research hub in Australia.

IPS UN Bureau

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CIVICUS discusses India’s Cockroach Janta Party movement with Harshit Singh, a young activist, poet and storyteller who took part in protests in Delhi.

Harshit Singh

What’s the Cockroach Janta Party, and how did it start?

On 15 May, the Chief Justice of India said that young people who couldn’t find a job and turned to media, social media and activism to attack the system were like cockroaches. He corrected himself the following day, saying he had meant only those entering the legal profession with fake degrees, but it was too late. Everybody felt hurt and frustrated.

Abhijeet Dipke, a young Indian, posted a tweet asking what would happen if all the cockroaches came together. Within 24 hours he had set up an Instagram page, a website and a manifesto that said that if you were lazy, unemployed and had time on your hands, you qualified as a cockroach. The name, Cockroach Janta Party, was a parody of the ruling party. The response was enormous. Artists and creators began promoting the platform, and within weeks over 20 million people were following it.

It grew that fast because the frustration was already there. Two weeks before Surya Kant spoke, the question paper for the national medical entrance exam leaked in advance, and the exam was cancelled for over two million students who had spent years preparing. At least 21 students died by suicide; every morning we woke up to news of another death. And this was not an isolated case. Every other day we hear about another exam paper leaking somewhere.

The Cockroach Janta Party gave young people somewhere to channel their frustration with the education system and unemployment. It gave us hope and a chance to demand a better education system, one that isn’t privatised and doesn’t cost so much that only privileged people get a good education.

But education is just the baseline. Beyond it, this is a movement that brings together everyone who has been neglected and not listened to for years, so they can express their frustration and ask for change. What started as satire became a national movement that nobody, not even the person who started it, expected.

Would you call this a Gen Z movement?

It was organised by Gen Z, and most of us in it are, but it’s not only that. I have seen every generation at the protest. People of different castes, gender identities and religions have come together under one umbrella to ask for their rights. At the end of the day, we are all Indians, and every issue this country is going through is our issue.

There is no criterion for joining and no enrolment process. If you think something is wrong, or that your basic rights are not being respected, that is the moment you support the movement, however you can. Come to the protest, talk about it online or in print, and be a voice where you are.

What struck me most is how many people came who didn’t support Abhijeet or disagreed with something a spokesperson had said. Some didn’t even like that we call ourselves cockroaches. They came anyway, because the movement is bigger than any person in it and because after a long time we have a platform where we can speak out loud, with other people standing next to us. That’s why it grew so fast.

What role has social media played?

Social media has played a central role. The movement started online and the vast majority of what it has achieved rests on that. Nobody expected it to come onto the ground and organise protests at this scale.

The reason it mattered this much is that the media here is compromised. If you say anything against the government, mainstream television and print media will not carry it. There was a protest in the heart of the capital for weeks and you wouldn’t find a single headline about it in the newspapers or magazines.

But when you are on the ground with your phone, taking photos and videos, you become your own media. And everyone was using their platforms. It didn’t matter whether someone had 10 followers or 5,000, each person was reaching the audience they had. In the end, mainstream media just reaches a limited number of people, but social media reaches everyone.

The turning point was when artists and creators started speaking. I hesitated at first. My livelihood is social media and ticket revenue, so I doubted what would happen to my future if I spoke against the government. I feared my accounts would be taken down. But I couldn’t deny what was happening, so I spoke out, and many other artists did too.

How has the government responded?

The government has responded very negatively. People who question the government, protest against it or ask for their rights get labelled as anti-national or terrorists. There’s no second thought about it. When I was a child, those were heavy words. Watching this government make them ordinary and using them against us was frightening.

For seven weeks we were at Jantar Mantar, the designated protest site in central Delhi. The Prime Minister’s Office, the President’s house and every ministry are within a five-kilometre radius. Still, not official came to meet us. What they did instead was try to dilute the protest by dividing us with anything they could find. They mocked queer people and spread hatred between Hindus and Muslims, but the unity held and we stood together.

On 20 July, we marched from Jantar Mantar to parliament. Delhi hadn’t seen a peaceful protest this massive in about 15 years. Thousands of people, including children, teenagers and grandparents, were on the streets asking for their basic rights. We were carrying flowers, banners and posters, and chanting slogans.

But the security forces met us with repression and violence. They used pellet guns, teargas and batons against anyone, even if they were just standing nearby. There’s a girl who’s still in intensive care on a ventilator.

The way the police handled the protests was illegal and unconstitutional. At that moment a lot of people in India realised something was badly wrong, and support for our movement grew massively across the country. Cities, districts and small towns started protests in solidarity. That is when the government understood it had to listen.

What has the movement achieved?

Our non-negotiable demand was the resignation of Dharmendra Pradhan and action against everyone involved in the scam. Pradhan stepped down, and we are glad he did, but it shouldn’t have taken this long or this much violence. He even framed it as a way to stop the protests and prevent terrorist activity, not as an admission that anything had gone wrong. Accountability is still missing.

Our other two demands are still unmet. We asked for compensation of 10 million rupees (approx. US$115,000) for every family that lost a child to suicide. Those families haven’t received anything, not even an apology.

We also asked that nobody who took part in the protests face legal action. Instead, the police have spent the past days tracing protesters and opening cases against them. There’s a lot of rage about it, and Abhijeet and others have said we may have to protest again.

What support does the movement need now?

What we most need is for people to stop being afraid. Protesting here is almost a taboo, because people expect repercussions and stay away, which makes organising anything at all difficult.

That fear is not irrational. This government controls the security forces, the Central Bureau of Investigation and the Enforcement Directorate, and it can do whatever it wants with them, as we saw on the streets. The courts will not stop it either, because the judiciary is compromised in the same way the media is.

But if something is wrong, it is fine to ask the government why. They are here to serve us. All we are asking for is to be able to protest peacefully in what is supposed to be the world’s largest democracy.

We need young people in this country to keep showing up and artists to stop being silent, because if the mainstream media will not speak out, art must become the mode of resistance. Support from abroad matters too. When people elsewhere talk about our movement, it creates pressure on the government. And we must hold on to what we know – our rights and our intentions – because diluting the agenda is what the government will try next.

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.

India has recently been added to the CIVICUS Monitor Watchlist, which identifies countries where a severe deterioration in the quality of civic space is taking place.

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India added to human rights watchlist as repression intensifies in Modi’s third term CIVICUS Monitor 29.Jul.2026
Gen Z protests: new resistance rises CIVICUS | 2026 State of Civil Society Report
India: ‘When civil society is constrained, it cannot challenge power or amplify excluded voices’ CIVICUS Lens | Interview with Devanshi Vaid and Smarinita Shetty 11.Dec.2025

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“They say driving is only for men. But women have proved that they, too, can drive.” Credit: Learning Together.

By External Source
KABUL, Aug 7 2026 (IPS)

The Taliban’s rise to power robbed Mehrmaa of her husband, her job and her chance to live freely.

It was a cold, snowy night in March 2022 when Mehrmaa’s neighbors brought her husband’s lifeless body home. He had disappeared more than seven months earlier. Mehrmaa had barely managed to cope with the new restrictions imposed on women by the Taliban, and now she felt as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders.

“At the end of our road home, there were seven coffins containing bodies that had been delivered to their families. Seven months ago they had been taken alive and now they have been returned dead,” Mehrmaa says.

“I will continue to fight against forced marriage for the sake of my children and in memory of my late husband, until my last breath,” Mehrmaa says

Mehrmaa describes how, in July 2021, the Taliban took over the provinces and its forces entered her hometown on motorbikes. The Taliban raised their flag in the centre of the city as a sign of victory. Government helicopters bombed the city, leaving many people homeless and without shelter. Mehrmaa’s province was the first to fall under Taliban oppression. Many fled in panic.

“The state kidnapped many young men to defend the city, including my husband.”

After the Taliban takeover, women were threatened with imprisonment if they walked the streets alone.

“Women were flogged in public for small and frivolous reasons. Widowed women and underage girls were forced into marriages without their consent.”

Women faced daily hardships, regardless of whether they had male relatives to protect them.

“Now that the Taliban are in power in Afghanistan, what can we do? We only live for our children. Women want to work so they can earn money for their families.”

Under the Taliban, women were forbidden from working. Mehrmaa wanted to continue working to support her children. That drove her onto the streets.

“Now I live a nomadic life with my children. We have no permanent home and we don’t stay in one place for long.”

Work became a means of survival

Mehrmaa is a trained teacher and midwife. She treats women’s fertility problems with herbs and gives massages for knee, back and joint pain. Under her late husband’s guidance, Mehrmaa learned to drive. She ran the first driving school for women in her province and taught hundreds of women how to drive.

Then the Taliban banned women from driving. Under the direction of the Ministry of the Promotion of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice, or morality police, local Taliban authorities reprimanded Mehrmaa and issued her a warning.

“They say driving is only for men. But women have proved that they, too, can drive. Even those who don’t have a husband in their family have learnt to drive.”

After her husband died, Mehrmaa had to continue working to feed her children. To survive, she returned to the city and began working as a teacher.

Despite changing careers, Mehrmaa was once again banned from working. Girls were banned from attending school from high school onwards, and educational institutions were closed to them. Mehrmaa took up work as a domestic helper and also provided personal physical education lessons to girls and women who had been excluded from school.

She is also a skilled physiotherapist. She founded the first women-only sports and massage centre so that she could help women manage their weight and improve their overall health. Mehrmaa’s health advice has given hope to women who had lost faith in their recovery.

Through her work, Mehrmaa met an 18-year-old girl who had fallen into a well two years earlier, damaging her legs, arms and ribs in the accident. Mehrmaa treated the girl’s muscles by massaging them with olive and black cumin oil. In less than two months, the girl was able to move.

The girl’s father praised Mehrmaa’s skills at the local mosque. Men heard about her healing abilities and rushed to propose marriage to her.

The Taliban regime considers it shameful for an unmarried woman to work alone. When the morality police learnt that Mehrmaa had rejected all offers of marriage, they banned her from working.

Mehrmaa rejected a life of dependence on others.

“For the sake of my children, I want to earn my own honest living and not live under the humiliation of anyone,” she says.

Sometimes injustice is a greater pain than poverty.

“I will continue to fight against forced marriage for the sake of my children and in memory of my late husband, until my last breath,” Mehrmaa says.

Once again, Mehrmaa moved with her children, this time to the northeast of the country. She brought with her hope for justice and a better future.

The women of her new village encouraged Mehrmaa to stay and help provide healthcare at local clinics. They told her about the countless pregnant women who die before they can reach a hospital.

The women in the village speak of Mehrmaa with admiration, describing her as incredibly kind and capable.

“It’s as if there’s light in every finger of hers,” they say, using an Afghan proverb to describe someone who is highly skilled and brings much good to those around them.

Despite constant losses, threats, and marriage proposals, Mehrmaa keeps going. She fights for her children, for women in need, and for a better future. Mehrmaa envisions an Afghanistan where women can work freely, study, and take care of their families.

Excerpt:

Young people facing Hiroshima’s Atomic Bomb Dome as storm clouds give way to morning light—a metaphor for humanity’s choice between living under the nuclear shadow and building a world without nuclear weapons. Credit: INPS Japan

By Katsuhiro Asagiri
HIROSHIMA, Japan, Aug 7 2026 (IPS)

This year’s Hiroshima Peace Declaration did not begin with words of remembrance alone. It opened instead with what the declaration called “military invasions using nuclear weapons as tools of intimidation,” “imperious actions by major powers in violation of international law,” and the failure of the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty, or NPT, Review Conference — for the third consecutive time — to adopt a final document.

The order was deliberate. The catastrophe of 81 years ago is not a memory sealed off in the past. It is directly connected to a present in which nuclear weapons are once again invoked as a means of projecting state power and coercing adversaries.

Hiroshima’s mayor, Kazumi Matsui, described a world in which distrust breeds retaliation, and retaliation is used to justify further violence. Such cycles, he warned, could ultimately result in “another Hiroshima or Nagasaki.”

At the same ceremony, Izumi Nakamitsu, the U.N. under-secretary-general and high representative for disarmament affairs, delivered a message from Secretary-General António Guterres that distilled the warning into a single question: What has humanity learned from Hiroshima? Will it choose a peaceful future, or continue to live under the shadow of nuclear annihilation?

This was not a rhetorical flourish reserved for a commemorative ceremony. What followed was an account of a world in which decades of nuclear arms reductions are being reversed, the norm against nuclear testing is under strain, military spending is surging and nuclear threats are increasingly used as instruments of intimidation.

One message spoke through the memories of survivors; the other through the crisis confronting the international system. But both arrived at the same place. Will the world continue to call an order sustained by fear “security”? Or will it restore dialogue, diplomacy, international law and trust — all of them slow and difficult — to the center of security policy?

The remains of the Prefectural Industry Promotion Building, after the dropping of the atomic bomb, in Hiroshima, Japan. This site was later preserved as a monument. Credit: UN Photo/DB

At the heart of the Peace Declaration was not nuclear strategy, but human experience.

It recalled a woman who could never forget her sister, whose skin had peeled away and whose face had been horribly disfigured by the bombing. It spoke of another woman who was exposed to the bomb at the age of 3, suffered repeated illnesses and lived in fear of what disease might strike next.

And there was a man who survived the bombing at 9. Watching civilians die in Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, he told young people that building a world without conflict must begin with overcoming the impulse toward conflict within themselves and making an effort to understand the perspectives of others.

Credit: UN photo

Such testimony is a reminder that the damage caused by nuclear weapons does not end with the blast. Radiation-related illness, the loss of family, discrimination and anxiety about the future can shape a life for decades. When strategists calculate the value of possessing nuclear weapons, it is this long span of human time that most easily disappears from view.

Mr. Guterres’s message noted that as the number of hibakusha, the atomic bomb survivors, declines, the importance of their words only grows. Their testimony is more than a record of tragedy. It is evidence that brings the abstract concept of nuclear deterrence back to the reality of human bodies and human lives.

Mr. Matsui called on citizens and young people to build connections across national borders with those who hold different values. Mr. Guterres urged governments to choose dialogue over division and cooperation over confrontation. The proposals may appear to operate on different scales, but they share a premise: Distrust among nations deepens when societies lose the capacity to understand those they see as different.

The Nuclear “Bargain” Nations Can No Longer Agree On

To understand the present crisis, it is necessary to examine the bargain on which the NPT rests.

Non-nuclear-weapon states agree not to acquire nuclear arms. Nuclear-weapon states undertake to pursue nuclear disarmament in good faith. And all parties retain the right to the peaceful use of nuclear energy under international safeguards. The treaty bound these three commitments together as a single grand bargain.

The framework was never complete. India, Pakistan and Israel remain outside the treaty, while North Korea has declared its withdrawal. Nor have the nuclear-weapon states recognized by the treaty fully honored their longstanding commitment to disarm.

NPT under pressure. Credit: INPS Japan

One dispute over the final document concerned language stating that Iran must not seek nuclear weapons. The United States and others pressed for stronger wording on Iran’s uranium enrichment and its cooperation with the International Atomic Energy Agency, or IAEA. Iran objected to being singled out and argued that attacks by the United States and Israel on its nuclear facilities had themselves damaged international law and the nonproliferation regime.

But Iran was not the sole cause of the breakdown. It was where a deeper fracture came to the surface.

In the war in Ukraine, the safety of nuclear-related sites, including the Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant, has repeatedly been placed at risk. In the Middle East, a zone free of nuclear weapons and other weapons of mass destruction, first promised in 1995, has still not been established. And under AUKUS, the security partnership among Australia, Britain and the United States, the planned transfer of nuclear-powered submarine technology to a non-nuclear-weapon state has raised questions about safeguards and the precedent it may set.

Meanwhile, China is expanding its nuclear forces, arms control between the United States and Russia is receding, and all nine nuclear-armed states are modernizing their arsenals. If nuclear powers and their allies place ever greater importance on deterrence while demanding restraint only from non-nuclear states, suspicion will inevitably grow that the treaty is less a mechanism for preventing proliferation than a system for preserving the privileges of those that already possess the bomb.

The NPT Review Conference has now failed to agree on a final document three times in succession — in 2015, 2022 and 2026. The last consensus was reached in 2010.

The treaty will not disappear tomorrow, and there is no alternative framework with anything close to its near-universal membership. But institutions do not always collapse overnight. Each time promises are deferred, criticism of violations is applied selectively and a conference ends without agreement, a little more faith is lost in the proposition that states are safer when they abide by the system.

As Ms. Nakamitsu observed after the Review Conference, nonproliferation and disarmament are two sides of the same coin. Nuclear-weapon states cannot indefinitely demand that others forgo nuclear arms while failing to meet their own obligations under Article VI of the NPT. The problem is not the wording of the treaty. It is whether governments still believe in the bargain it represents.

An AI-generated conceptual illustration shows opposing rows of strategic missile launchers beyond a broken restraint, symbolizing the collapse of binding arms-control limits and a renewed nuclear arms race in which each side’s pursuit of security increases the danger for all. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri

The signs of eroding trust extend far beyond the conference room.

The New Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty, or New START, which imposed verifiable limits on the strategic nuclear forces of the United States and Russia, expired on Feb. 5, 2026. For the first time in more than half a century, the strategic arsenals of the two countries that possess most of the world’s nuclear weapons are no longer subject to legally binding limits.

The norm against nuclear testing is also under pressure. In 2025, the U.S. president spoke of resuming “testing,” without making clear whether he meant nuclear explosive tests or missile trials. Against that backdrop, the United States became the only country to vote against a draft resolution in the U.N. General Assembly’s First Committee calling for the entry into force of the Comprehensive Nuclear-Test-Ban Treaty, or CTBT. Even if no explosive test takes place, ambiguity from a major power about its support for a longstanding norm can give other countries a pretext to weaken it in turn.

Military spending is climbing as well. According to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute, or SIPRI, global military expenditure reached a record $2.887 trillion in 2025, marking an 11th consecutive annual increase in real terms. Spending rose by 14 percent in Europe and by 8.1 percent in Asia and Oceania.

Every government has an explanation: Russia’s invasion, China’s rise, uncertainty about alliance commitments, preparations for regional conflict. Considered separately, each can be understood as a response to a security concern. But one country’s defense appears to another as a threat. One side arms in response to the other, prompting the other to build up again. This is the security dilemma: Actions taken in the name of safety can make the system as a whole more dangerous.

Supporters of nuclear deterrence point to the fact that nuclear weapons have not been used in war since Hiroshima and Nagasaki as evidence that deterrence works. Yet there have also been numerous episodes in which false alarms, equipment failures, misread intelligence or errors of judgment brought the world dangerously close to nuclear war.

At a discussion held alongside the 2026 NPT Review Conference, the lesson was expressed in a stark phrase: “Luck is not a security strategy.” Nuclear deterrence requires every future leader, every intelligence assessment and every communications system to function correctly in every crisis. As artificial intelligence is incorporated into warning and command-and-control systems, faster decision-making could also leave less time to recognize and correct a mistake.

Whether nuclear deterrence played a role in the past and whether it can remain safe indefinitely are not the same question.

What the Ban Treaty Can Do — and What It Cannot

The 2nd meeting of state parties to TPNW toook place at the United Nations Headquarters in New York between 27 November and 1 December in 2023. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri, President of INPS Japan.

Tonga’s accession in July 2026 brought to 100 the number of countries that have signed, ratified or acceded to the treaty. Of these, 75 are states parties.

The TPNW comprehensively prohibits the development, testing, production, possession, use and threat of use of nuclear weapons. It also requires states parties to assist people harmed by nuclear weapons use and testing and to remediate contaminated environments.

That is where it differs from the NPT. While the NPT primarily manages the relationship between nuclear-weapon and non-nuclear-weapon states, the TPNW treats nuclear weapons themselves as a humanitarian issue and a matter of international law. It asks not who should be permitted to possess nuclear arms, but whether possessing them can be considered acceptable at all.

The Review Conference is expected to focus on a political declaration rejecting nuclear use and threats of use without exception; progress in carrying out the 2022 Vienna Action Plan; the work of the Scientific Advisory Group; mechanisms for victim assistance and environmental remediation; the designation of an international authority to verify the elimination of nuclear weapons; and the further universalization of the treaty.

Particular attention will fall on a proposed international trust fund for victim assistance and environmental remediation. The effects of nuclear weapons use and testing are still felt in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, at the Semipalatinsk test site in Kazakhstan, in the Marshall Islands and across other Pacific islands. If the fund takes shape, disarmament will no longer be only a negotiation over future numbers of nuclear warheads. It will also become a question of nuclear justice: Who bears responsibility for harm already done?

The TPNW has an obvious limitation. No nuclear-armed state has joined it, and the treaty alone cannot compel the elimination of nuclear warheads. Ignoring that fact would obscure the distance between establishing a prohibition and achieving actual disarmament.

But three consecutive failures at NPT Review Conferences have also shown that waiting for agreement among the nuclear powers will not produce progress on its own. The NPT can preserve the legal obligation to disarm, while the TPNW develops the norm of prohibition and practical approaches to victim assistance, environmental remediation and verification. The two treaties can be treated not as rivals, but as complementary frameworks, each addressing gaps left by the other.

Where Does Japan Stand?

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

Attending as an observer would not commit Japan to immediate accession. Some NATO countries that rely on the U.S. nuclear deterrent have attended previous meetings of states parties after explicitly setting out their differences with the treaty.

Japan’s participation would expose the tension between its reliance on nuclear deterrence and its identity as the only country to have suffered atomic bombings in war. But it would also allow Japan to draw on its extensive experience in medical care for survivors, research on the effects of radiation, preservation of testimony, victim assistance, environmental remediation and disarmament education to help build practical mechanisms.

For years, the Japanese government has described its role as a “bridge” between nuclear-weapon and non-nuclear-weapon states. But building a bridge requires listening, in the same room, to what each side fears and what each considers unjust. That claim loses credibility if Japan remains anchored to only one bank.

Rethinking What We Call “Reality”

Both messages called on citizens to act because nuclear policy is not shaped by governments and experts alone.

Through education, journalism, elections, culture, investment and everyday language, societies learn to regard nuclear weapons either as a guarantee of security or as an unacceptable humanitarian threat. That shared understanding, in turn, defines the range of policies a government believes it can pursue.

A future lived under the shadow of nuclear fear may not be chosen all at once by a single leader. It can also be chosen through an accumulation of small acts of acceptance: tolerating nuclear threats when they come from one’s own side, equating military expansion with security, and confining the testimony of atomic bomb survivors and nuclear test victims to commemorative anniversaries.

A world without nuclear weapons will not be achieved at a single conference, either. It will require people to learn what happened in the atomic bombings and nuclear tests; speak with those who hold different views; reject nuclear threats whether they come from an ally or an adversary; press governments to fulfill their disarmament obligations and attend the TPNW conference; and support victims and disarmament education. Each step may be modest. Each can also help change the standards by which society judges nuclear weapons.

What Hiroshima offered the world this year was not an optimistic prediction. It was a choice.

A future in which humanity continues to balance one nuclear terror against another — or a future in which nations build a common security that no longer requires nuclear weapons.

No one needs to be an expert to answer that question, and no one needs to wait for a government’s permission. Can security that depends on the threat of incinerating cities truly be called security? Asking ourselves that question is the first political act.

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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Excerpt:

A Rohingya refugee points to the landslide that killed two of Abdu Rozork’s daughters and two of their children in their bamboo shelter in a refugee camp in Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh, last month. Credit: Mohammed Zonaid/IPS

By Mohammed Zonaid
COX'S BAZAR, Bangladesh, Aug 6 2026 (IPS)

Abdu Rozork awoke suddenly to the sound of children screaming. Heavy monsoon rains had sent a landslide barrelling into the section of their bamboo shelter where the women and children were sleeping.

Neighbours rushed to help dig through the mud with their bare hands, but it was too late. Two of Rozork’s daughters and two grandchildren were killed.

Having fled war in Myanmar only two years earlier, Rozork had believed his family would finally find safety among the over one million Rohingya refugees living in densely packed camps in Cox’s Bazar, southeast Bangladesh.

“I escaped conflict in Rakhine State to save my family,” he told IPS. “But I could not save them here.”

Early waves of Muslim minority Rohingya fleeing violence and persecution in Myanmar were housed in the first large-scale camps set up in Cox’s Bazar in the early 1990s. In 2017 a devastating crackdown by the Myanmar military against the Rohingya community and militants in Rakhine State forced another mass exodus, this time of over 700,000 refugees, creating the world’s largest refugee settlement.

Since 2024 and the disintegration of Myanmar amidst civil war, these overcrowded camps have been joined by further waves of civilians fleeing a complex conflict between the junta and the Arakan Army (AA), an ethno-nationalist insurgent group that has seized control over much of Rakhine State, as well as the involvement of Rohingya militants. According to data released by UNHCR, by June those new arrivals in Cox’s Bazar numbered 153,640.

But no new land has been allocated to this recent wave of refugees for building shelters. Many families now have to share with relatives or build makeshift homes on steep hillsides vulnerable to landslides and flooding. Cutbacks in international funding have also led to cuts in classes for children and reduced food rations.

Days of heavy rain since early July triggered landslides and flooding in several of the camps, killing at least 17 people and displacing more than 3,000, according to Human Rights Watch.

Rozork said he had repeatedly asked humanitarian agencies for help with tarpaulins and to make a retaining wall. His bamboo shelter stood at the foot of a hill, and rainwater was coming in.

But organisations responsible for site management told him assistance was unavailable because his family had only recently arrived in Bangladesh. “No one warned us that the shelter was in a dangerous place,” he said. Days later the mud swept down.

His family’s tragedy is one of many among the newest Rohingya arrivals who escaped one crisis only to enter another.

Mohammed Kayes, now 13, was attending school in Buthidaung Township in northern Rakhine when fighting intensified between the Myanmar military and the AA, spreading towards his village. Schools closed, food became scarce, and medical services disappeared.

His family fled through forests and villages for seven days before reaching the Bangladesh border. During the journey, Kayes said Arakan Army members detained his family. After several days, they released them but later took his father away for what they described as questioning. He never returned.

After finally reaching Bangladesh, tragedy struck again. His mother, suffering from a stomach tumour, died after months of illness despite efforts to obtain treatment.

Kayes now helps care for his younger siblings while living with his grandmother. He receives food rations, but with the loss of his mother, they do not qualify for gas cylinders to cook.

His dream is to become a teacher. “I want to study,” he told IPS. “I want to build my future.”

Sawfowan’s dream is to work for the United Nations, but conflict also engulfed his village in Buthidaung, closing schools. “We heard gunfire almost every day,” the 17-year-old said. The men in the family had to flee over a year ago to avoid forced conscription by the AA.

His family struggled to obtain medicine for his diabetic mother, so in May they also decided to flee. According to Sawfowan, Bangladesh border authorities twice pushed the family back across the frontier, but they managed to enter on a third attempt and reunite with relatives inside the camps. Several families now share a single bamboo and tarpaulin shelter.

“I feel safer here,” he said. “But life is still very difficult.”

Community leaders say such experiences are increasingly common among the newest arrivals.

Mohammed Musa, a Rohingya youth leader, said families consistently report forced displacement, disappearances, movement restrictions and food shortages in Rakhine.

“Many arrive carrying deep trauma after losing relatives or surviving repeated displacement inside Myanmar,” he said. “But once they reach Bangladesh, they face another struggle.”

UNHCR says newly arrived refugees receive food assistance, cooking gas, core relief items and protection services under existing government approvals. However, the agency acknowledges that the absence of new land and severe funding shortages have limited humanitarian efforts to relocate families to safer areas or improve shelter conditions.

“The recent loss of lives due to the heavy monsoon rains is a tragic reminder of how vulnerable the camps remain,” Shari Nijman, UNHCR Bangladesh Communications Officer, said.

As conflict continues in Myanmar, Bangladeshi authorities say Rohingya are crossing the border every week despite tighter controls.

The Arakan Army now controls most of Rakhine State but the capital, Sittwe, and has driven Rohingya from their homes. Survivors and rights groups have documented allegations of forced recruitment and mass killings of Rohingya in the village of Hoyyar Siri by the Arakan Army in May 2024, as well as drone attacks on people gathering on the border, burning of villages, arbitrary arrests, and other abuses. The AA denies it carried out the Hoyyar Siri massacre.

Myanmar military airstrikes also continue to displace civilians across the state.

Rohingya fleeing the violence have also been pushed back at the Bangladesh border, while hundreds have died attempting dangerous sea crossings and falling victim to traffickers.

As in many conflicts worldwide, Bangladesh and the international community are faced with a complex crisis where divisions between refugees and combatants become blurred.

Despite the risks, the exodus has not stopped. “Our reports suggest that every week 50 to 60 new Rohingya are entering Bangladesh,” Refugee Relief and Repatriation Commissioner Mizanur Rahman told The Daily Star in July.

IPS UN Bureau Report

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CIVICUS speaks about China’s recently implemented Ethnic Unity Law with Gulchehra Hoja, a correspondent for Reporters Without Borders and a Uyghur activist and journalist known for her reporting on human rights abuses against Uyghur people in China.

Gulchehra Hoja

What does the new Ethnic Unity Law state?

This new law means there is one acceptable way to be Chinese and requires every part of society, not just the state, to work towards it. Culture, faith and language become things to be managed rather than rights to be protected.

But none of this is new. The law formalises practices that are already in place and turns repression into official state policy. For years the Chinese government has closed Uyghur-language schools, demolished mosques, imprisoned intellectuals, separated children from their families and sent more than a million Uyghurs and other Turkic peoples into detention camps. Ordinary expressions of Uyghur identity can attract suspicion.

Every government wants security and stability. The question is how those goals are pursued and who ends up defined as a threat. Under this law the answer is anyone whose identity does not fit. The Ethnic Unity Law strengthens Communist Party authority, not minority rights. It tells minorities that loyalty to the Communist Party matters more than their identity and that even the most ordinary parts of life are subject to state control.

Doesn’t China’s constitution protect minority languages and autonomy?

On paper, Article 4 guarantees all ethnic groups the right to use their own languages and preserve their cultures. But there is an enormous gap between what the law says and what happens.

I come from the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region. For Beijing, it is a strategic asset that connects China to Central Asia, holds vast natural resources and plays a central role in the country’s long-term economic and security ambitions. But for Uyghurs, it’s our home. It is where generations of our people have lived and built their lives.

The region is officially described as autonomous, but autonomy must include genuine local political participation, real cultural protection and the right to use and teach our language freely. Where those are missing, autonomy exists in name only.

Which communities does the law reach, and how is it enforced?

Uyghurs are the first victims, but we are certainly not the only ones. The law reaches Hong Kong activists, religious communities, Southern Mongolians and Tibetans. It can even be applied to Chinese citizens whose beliefs or identities just don’t fit the Communist Party’s vision. And because it applies beyond China’s territory, it reaches all of them wherever they live.

Paramilitary institutions, police, security agencies and universities work together, so every part of society is drawn into monitoring and reshaping people’s identities. Students from China’s National Security College, for example, were sent to East Turkistan to study governance centres, neighbourhood grid management, police stations and the Xinjiang Production and Construction Corps, the state-owned paramilitary body that runs its own cities, courts, police and prisons across the region. This was not an academic visit. It was training in how to put a population under surveillance.

What are the risks of speaking out?

I know them personally. In authoritarian systems, telling the truth can be treated as a crime. I was branded a terrorist not because I committed violence but because I practised journalism and dared to speak out. And it was not only me who paid for it. After I reported on what was happening in East Turkistan, 25 members of my family were detained.

I am not alone in this. The Chinese government fears independent reporting, and that is why it works so hard to control information. Foreign journalists have been expelled, local journalists imprisoned and many Uyghur journalists working for international media have seen relatives disappeared, imprisoned or sent to detention camps simply for continuing to report.

The new law gives Beijing further justification to present peaceful advocacy as a threat to national unity. It also sends a message to Uyghurs living in Canada, Europe, Latin America, Turkey and the USA: we are still watching you. That is what transnational repression means.

What should the international community do?

Governments should not judge this law by its title but by its consequences. They should continue documenting human rights abuses, expose China’s efforts to intimidate critics abroad, sanction the officials responsible for these policies and strengthen protections for Uyghur journalists and refugees. We’ll keep documenting these stories even when access is restricted, but we can’t do it alone.

This is not only about Uyghurs. It is about whether a government can erase a people’s culture, history, language and religion and call it unity. That question should concern everyone.

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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Transnational repression: ‘China feels emboldened to globalise its political red lines’ CIVICUS Lens | Interview with Barbora Bukovská 19.May.2026
China: ‘The state is using generative AI to engineer reality through informational gaslighting’ CIVICUS Lens | Interview with Fergus Ryan 12.Mar.2026
The long reach of authoritarianism CIVICUS Lens 20.Mar.2024

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Workers are patrolling in a wind power plant on Tan Thanh beach, Go Cong city of Viet Nam. Countries in Asia and the Pacific are moving towards green transitions in the wake of higher oil prices. Credit: Unsplash/Thompson Le

By Michał Podolski
BANGKOK, Thailand, Aug 5 2026 (IPS)

Inaction and maintaining the status quo of fossil fuel dependence carry significant costs. The recent closure of the Strait of Hormuz, for instance, caused enormous losses to the global economy, with many Asia-Pacific countries bearing disproportionately larger adverse impacts. Had these economies had a more diversified energy mix, they would have benefited from such resilience under current circumstances.

Green transition, however, comes at a significant cost – investment in environmental sustainability. This investment brings tangible returns and benefits, such as cleaner air, better health, a vibrant natural environment or reduced negative climate impacts. What is the overall balance of these costs and benefits, opportunities seized or lost, innovation, or status quo maintenance?

This overall balance amounts to decisions for a faster or slower shift towards environmental sustainability and green transition. Each carries fiscal, investment and financing consequences with differing socioeconomic outcomes. Overall, because of these countless dimensions, decision-making for green transition is inherently complex. In principle, humanity has never undertaken a green transition before and lacks established blueprints.

ESCAP’s Economic and Social Survey of Asia and the Pacific 2026 sheds light on this challenge. The report identifies decarbonisation pathways that offer lower costs and higher benefits, highlights bottlenecks that inflate expenses, clarifies current priorities, and examines socioeconomic impacts. In short, the Survey 2026 identifies cheaper options with greater impacts.

For instance, in some Asia-Pacific countries, the choices on decarbonisation are relatively straightforward. With limited fossil fuel dependence, low risks of asset stranding and minimal vested interests in coal, oil and gas industries, these economies are advancing renewable energy expansion. They are leapfrogging decarbonisation hurdles and reaping steady benefits from carbon-free energy.

However, economies heavily reliant on fossil fuels are confronting tougher dilemmas. Faster carbon withdrawal brings higher immediate costs, offset only by longer-term benefits. Labour markets face greater pressure from anticipated reskilling and green sector development. These economies face elevated risks and must proceed cautiously. Ultimately, the green transition demands strong and prosperous economies capable of delivering goods and services to build a carbon-free world.

As for labour markets, net employment effects of green transition can be positive overall, yet uneven across countries and sectors. Fossil fuel job losses, potentially abrupt ones, are often concentrated in mineral-rich areas, with knock-on effects on related industries. Historical coal phase-outs without prompt government support reveal prolonged unemployment, youth out-migration, and community decline. Older workers are particularly at risk of exiting the labour force permanently. In contrast, green jobs emerge more gradually, often elsewhere, and require different skills. This mismatch highlights the need for proactive government planning – including funded reskilling and economic diversification – to redeploy skills from declining sectors.

Inflation provides another example of dilemmas faced by policymakers that are or want to pursue green transition. Higher inflation undermines economic activity and complicates transition-oriented policymaking. For instance, green transition policies, such as carbon pricing, can gradually increase prices, and thus inflation. This can raise interest rates, hinder capital-intensive green investments and pose financial stability challenges for central banks. Economies may tolerate modest and stable inflation, but high and volatile inflation will undermine the green transition efforts.

The Survey 2026 also highlights that government interventions like subsidies can be beneficial but can also lock-in suboptimal technologies. Too much of a good thing can be harmful. Government policies should guide objectives and priorities, for example, the need for better and cheaper energy storage, and enable people and enterprises to discover the most effective solutions. Market-friendly policy tools, such as technology-neutral emission limits, clear long-term plans and streamlined permitting, are all important policy adjustments.

“Take the right decisions, allow markets to work in a fair way” was a message on climate action by the UN Secretary-General António Guterres in 2025. The Survey 2026 builds on this, emphasising that market mechanisms can drive decarbonisation by identifying the best opportunities. The report also reinforces the call for “right decisions” to ensure a just and inclusive transition.

There are often easier and harder paths to the same goal. With due regard to diverse national circumstances, Asia-Pacific economies must progressively move to a low-carbon future, while safeguarding socioeconomic well-being of their people. There is no universal set of policies, but there is one clear direction. Although some costs may seem high today, inaction would prove far more expensive. At the end, optimal paths require pragmatic, evidence-based judgement: gradual where necessary, ambitious where feasible, and always mindful of who bears today’s costs versus tomorrow’s benefits.

Michal Podolski is Associate Economic Affairs Officer, ESCAP

IPS UN Bureau

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A container port in Bukit Merah, Singapore. Credit: Unsplash/CHUTTERSNAP

By Maximilian Malawista
UNITED NATIONS, Jul 31 2026 (IPS)

East Asia and the Pacific’s (EAP) maritime system has powered the region’s rise as the world’s largest trading and manufacturing center, but the infrastructure supporting that system has become increasingly vulnerable.

According to a new World Bank report, EAP will require nearly USD 900 billion in maritime investment through 2040, as aging vessels, growing trade volumes, and the transition towards alternative fuels place pressure on vital shipping networks propping up the region’s rapid economic growth.

Container trade across the region is projected to grow by 3.5 percent to 4 percent annually over the next decade, meaning ports have to build the additional capacity to accommodate approximately 300 million twenty-foot equivalent units (TEUs) by 2040. The World Bank estimates that modernizing ports will require USD 180 billion through 2040, while more than USD 280 billion will be needed to replace and upgrade regional and domestic fleets.

Such investment comes as maritime transport remains a major contributor to economic activity across the region. Maritime trade in the region supports up to USD 3.7 trillion in economic activity, moving over 6 billion tons of cargo, approximately half of the entire seaborne cargo trade. For every ton of cargo moved through the region’s ports, approximately USD 155 in overall economic output is generated, alongside USD 75 in direct GDP. A ton of imported steel, for example, can become an input for manufacturers producing automobiles, machinery or construction materials, generating additional economic activity well beyond the initial movement of the cargo through the port.

EAP’s role in global maritime trade is particularly significant when looking at the countries that border the Strait of Malacca, where an estimated 38 percent of global maritime trade passed through in 2023, according to the OECD. More than 100,000 vessels transit the Strait of Malacca annually, making it the busiest maritime chokepoint globally, with more than twice the traffic of the Strait of Hormuz under normal conditions.

In Singapore, merchandise trade–the combined value of goods imported and exported– reached USD 964 billion in 2024, equivalent to approximately 179 percent of the country’s USD 540 billion GDP. Singapore’s ports simultaneously handled approximately 41 million TEUs of container traffic, and processed 295 million tons of seaborne trade, making it the second busiest container port in the world. In neighboring Malaysia, merchandise trade reached approximately USD 631 billion, equivalent to nearly 150 percent of its USD 422 billion GDP, while its ports handled another 28 million TEUs, processing 447 million tons of seaborne trade, with Port Klang, Malaysia’s main port, being the 10th-busiest port in the world. Indonesia processed the greatest volume of the three nations, at 900 million tons.

China demonstrates the scale at which the region’s largest ports are already operating, and how investment in automation and digital infrastructure can increase their capacity. The Port of Shanghai became the first in the world to handle more than 50 million TEUs in 2024, while its newest automated terminals require approximately 70 percent less labor while achieving 30 percent higher productivity. Container vessels spend an average of only 1 to 1.2 days at Chinese ports, compared with the Port of Los Angeles where container vessels spend an average of two days. For reference, six of the top 10 busiest ports in the world are located in China, demonstrating its role in global maritime connectivity.

Beyond the direct costs of port operations, ships can spend up to 9 percent of their time waiting at anchorage. These delays can leave vessels with less time to complete subsequent legs of a voyage, encouraging higher sailing speeds and increasing fuel consumption and operating costs. An IMO-backed study found that optimizing container-ship speeds around expected port arrival times could reduce average fuel consumption by approximately 14 percent per voyage. Greater predictability and faster turnaround can therefore allow ports and vessels to move cargo more efficiently while reducing fuel costs and emissions—an increasingly important advantage as EAP prepares to accommodate an additional 300 million TEUs by 2040.

While premier global ports require significant investments in automation and new technology to increase efficiency and expand potential TEU throughput, smaller ports can achieve substantial results through simpler, less capital-intensive infrastructure improvements.

At the Port of Funafuti in Tuvalu, improvements as basic as paving cargo-handling areas and improving drainage reduced cargo-handling breakdowns by 80 percent and cut average vessel turnaround from seven days to between two and three days. These gains show that the approach to modernizing ports in the region is not uniform. Some ports will require more advanced technology and higher investment while others simply need to revitalize their existing systems, in accordance with the volume of cargo their ports already receive.

Modernizing ports, however, addresses only one side of the region’s maritime infrastructure challenge. The vessels docking at ports are themselves aging. Replacing and upgrading vessels operating within and between economies across EAP will require more than USD 280 billion through 2040. Of that total, approximately USD 150 billion will be needed to renew domestic fleets and another USD 97 billion to replace regional vessels, with dual-fuel capability adding USD 36.5 billion in additional costs.

The investment is not solely about expanding capacity. Significant portions of the region’s fleets are already more than 25 years old, making vessels more expensive to maintain, less fuel efficient and more susceptible to breakdowns and accidents. The World Bank estimates that replacing just 30 percent of domestic vessels by 2035 with ships meeting international standards could cut accident rates in half.

The reliability of these vessels also carries consequences beyond the shipping industry, particularly for the region’s archipelagic economies. In the Philippines, 98 percent of inter-island trade in food, fuel, and other goods depends on domestic shipping. Across Southeast Asia in general, maritime networks are critical to regional food trade, with rice shipments alone supplying more than 60 million people across EAP.

Disruptions caused by aging or unreliable vessels can therefore extend beyond higher costs for shipping companies, affecting the movement and price of essential goods in communities dependent on maritime transport.

Yet the largest individual component of the region’s maritime investment requirement lies not in ports or vessels, but in the fuels that will power them.

Developing supply chains for alternative marine fuels could require approximately USD 433 billion through 2040. Green ammonia alone could require approximately USD 310 billion, followed by USD 81 billion for green methanol and USD 42 billion for renewable liquefied natural gas (LNG).

The scale of the required investment reflects how early the transition remains. More than 99 percent of marine fuel consumed in 2025 was still conventional fuel, while fuel accounts for approximately 40 to 60 percent of vessel operating costs, according to the report.

Transitioning away from those fuels requires more than replacing engines. New fuels must be produced, transported, stored, and ultimately supplied to vessels through new bunkering infrastructure at ports, effectively requiring the development of new maritime energy supply chains alongside the existing system.

The transition also presents a coordination challenge. Shipowners have limited incentive to pay premiums for dual-fuel vessels without confidence that alternative fuels will be widely available, while ports and fuel producers face similar uncertainty about investing in bunkering and production infrastructure without sufficient demand. The World Bank argues that predictable regulation and coordinated investment will be necessary to develop vessels, fuel production and port infrastructure simultaneously.

The nearly USD 900 billion investment requirement ultimately extends across every link of the maritime system. Ports will have to accommodate hundreds of millions of additional containers through a combination of new capacity, automation and basic infrastructure improvements, while aging domestic and regional fleets will require replacement on a massive scale. At the same time, the transition toward alternative fuels will require not only new vessels, but the development of entirely new production, storage, transport and bunkering networks.

Financing this maritime venture through 2040 is not the only challenge. The investment must be coordinated across ports, vessels, and fuel supply chains so that each leg of the network can develop alongside others, matching the volume of cargo that moves through rapidly growing region.

IPS UN Bureau Report

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CIVICUS discusses disinformation campaigns targeting the LGBTQI+ community in Armenia with Hripsime Kizogyan, Executive Director of Pink Armenia, a community-based organisation that defends the human rights of LGBTQI+ people and advocates for policy change.

Hripsime Kizogyan

What was the fake Pride campaign about?

In late January, online stories started appearing that claimed that Armenia’s first LGBTQI+ Pride march would take place in the capital, Yerevan, on 7 April, supported by our organisation and personally led by Nikol Pashinyan. The date was no accident, because 7 April is a religious holiday and Mother’s Day in Armenia.

None of it was true. The stories first appeared on a brand-new website that had been created only 11 days earlier. It used an AI-generated image of Pashinyan and disappeared shortly after. But the damage was done. Georgian and Turkish media outlets and dozens of Facebook and Twitter/X accounts had already picked up the story.

The same false campaign came back in April, this time amplified by pro-Kremlin Telegram channels and Russian outlets. It came with two new claims, both equally false: that Pink Armenia helped write same-sex marriage into a supposedly leaked new draft of the Armenian constitution, and that we’re funded by the US Agency for International Development. We denied this publicly, but by then the story had travelled.

The fake Pride story was just one piece of a much bigger campaign against our organisation and, more broadly, against LGBTQI+ people. A fake account impersonating Pink Armenia on Twitter/X managed to buy a verification checkmark before being suspended. Someone also set up a lookalike domain and sent emails in the name of our former president, telling schools that an LGBTQI+ curriculum would be introduced in 2027.

We also know that foreign bloggers were approached and offered paid trips to Yerevan to publicly urge Pashinyan to ‘support Pride’ as a show of solidarity with Europe. Someone pasted images of same-sex couples on walls in Yerevan, then photographed them as ‘evidence’ of activism that wasn’t happening.

What was the campaign trying to achieve?

Whoever was behind the fake Pride campaign wanted two things: to provoke fear and hostility towards LGBTQI+ people and to damage the government and its pro-European course by association. The false claims reinforced a familiar storyline in which European integration will bring the imposition of ‘foreign values’ and LGBTQI+ rights are the leading edge of that imposition.

This rhetoric didn’t come out of nowhere. Across the region, anti-LGBTQI+ discourse is increasingly tied to anti-democratic narratives, attacks on civil society and conspiracy theories that portray human rights organisations as foreign agents and threats to national identity. The same thing happened in Moldova and elsewhere in the region, with LGBTQI+ rights used to split the electorate ahead of a vote.

Although Armenia isn’t like neighbouring countries where anti-LGBTQI+ campaigns are written into state policy, the election showed our community being used when politically convenient. That kind of rhetoric makes the public environment hostile, legitimises discrimination and creates conditions in which hate speech and violence become more socially acceptable.

What has changed, and what hasn’t, for LGBTQI+ rights in Armenia?

Some things have improved. Earlier this year, Pink Armenia was formally included in public advisory councils at the health, internal affairs, justice, and labour and social affairs ministries. This means we can now raise issues directly with them.

But the law hasn’t changed. Armenia still hasn’t recognised same-sex partnerships. There’s no anti-discrimination protection covering sexual orientation and gender identity in most areas of life. When someone is the victim of a hate crime just for being LGBTQI+, that still doesn’t count as an aggravating factor.

Social attitudes are the other barrier. LGBTQI+ people still face discrimination in education, employment, family settings and healthcare. Being open about who you are still carries a risk, so many people hide it or leave Armenia in search of safety.

How is Pink Armenia countering disinformation?

We monitor media and social media systematically, documenting disinformation and hate speech targeting LGBTQI+ people and tracking the politicians and outlets pushing it. This gives us the evidence to respond publicly, take issues to policymakers and, when needed, go to court.

When false claims about us circulate, we answer them directly. We issue public clarifications and work with independent fact-checkers such as the Fact Investigation Platform and Media.am.

On digital security, we report impersonating accounts and fraudulent lookalike domains so they get taken down, and we warn partner institutions such as schools when fake messages go out in our name.

What support does Armenian civil society need?

We need stronger international cooperation to deal with disinformation networks that operate across borders to spread anti-gender narratives. Sharing of advocacy strategies, best practices, digital security expertise and research would strengthen civil society across the region.

We also need long-term support, not just project funding that responds to one crisis at a time. We need funds that are sustainable and flexible enough to keep our services running while we react quickly to disinformation campaigns and security threats.

International partners can do something else too: keep raising discrimination, hate speech and attacks on civil society in their diplomatic conversations with Armenian authorities. Public attention and international scrutiny make it harder to treat these issues as optional.

Ultimately, supporting LGBTQI+ rights in Armenia isn’t only about one community. It’s about defending democratic values, protecting civic space and making sure no group is excluded from human rights because it has become a politically convenient target.

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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Armenia/Azerbaijan: ‘Civil society has an essential role in preparing societies for peace’ CIVICUS Lens | Interview with Konul De Moor 19.Sep.2025

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Student-made posters and artwork line the streets of Jantar Mantar, capturing messages of resistance and hope. Aishwarya Bajpai/IPS

By Aishwarya Bajpai
NEW DELHI, Jul 27 2026 (IPS)

On July 25, after 50 days of protest at Delhi’s Jantar Mantar, Union Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan resigned.

The movement had begun in May as a satirical social media page called the Cockroach Janta Party, founded by Abhijeet Dipke after the Chief Justice of India, Surya Kant, used the term “cockroaches” during a Supreme Court hearing, apparently referring to young people with fake law degrees, but his remark sparked a massive public backlash.

Weeks later, the NEET-UG paper (for admission into medical colleges) leaked, and alleged irregularities in the Central Board of Secondary Education on-screen marking process transformed satire into a nationwide campaign.

On June 6, Dipke called for a sit-in protest at Jantar Mantar, demanding Pradhan’s resignation. But by the time the protest entered its seventh week, the movement had outgrown its original demand – and many argue that replacing one minister will not restore faith in an education system battered by paper leaks, administrative failures and growing privatisation.

The crowd reflected that evolution.

Protesters gather at the main stage at Jantar Mantar, where peaceful demonstrations and slogans continued throughout the sit-in. The stage later became the focal point of the movement as education reformer Sonam Wangchuk began his indefinite hunger strike. Credit: Aishwarya Bajpai/IPS

The seat of the protest, Jantar Mantar, had become far more than a student protest. Farmers stood beside parents, young professionals, senior citizens, queer activists and wage labourers. Volunteers distributed food, arranged train tickets for protesters travelling home and coordinated donations. People travelled from across India, while a handful of foreign nationals joined in solidarity. Despite their different backgrounds, they shared one belief — that the crisis threatened the future of public education itself.

Ashutosh Agarwal (centre), national vice-president of the Bharatiya Kisan Union, India’s Youth Wing, stands with colleagues from Meerut in solidarity with the student-led movement. Credit: Aishwarya Bajpai/IPS

The seriousness and urgency are also reflected in the numbers. India has recorded 152 examination paper leaks in the past decade – roughly one every month. In 2026 alone, more than 20 million candidates appeared for NEET-UG, while reports of the leak were followed by the deaths of nearly 20 aspirants by suicide. Yet clearing these examinations offers no certainty. According to the State of Working India 2026 report by Azim Premji University, nearly 40% of graduates aged 15–25 remain unemployed, while unemployment among graduates aged 25–29 stands at 20%. Although the country produced 5 million graduates each year between 2004/05 and 2023, only 2.8 million found employment.

As the protests grew, they also drew support from opposition leaders, public figures and education reformers, expanding the movement beyond student circles.

The turning point came on June 28, when education reformer Sonam Wangchuk joined the sit-in with an indefinite hunger strike. CJP announced a march to Parliament on July 20, the opening day of the Monsoon Session. Later, on 18^th July, Delhi Police removed Wangchuk from the protest site and admitted him to Safdarjung Hospital for medical observation, a move his family described as forced hospitalisation against his wishes.

What followed altered the course of the movement.

On July 20, police and the Rapid Action Force dispersed marchers using batons, tear gas, water cannons and pellet guns. Protesters alleged that some lathis were studded with nails, while the RAF’s own chief later admitted that “excessive force” had been used during the operation.

Nazia Khanam (left) and her friend travelled across Delhi to join the protest. Credit: Aishwarya Bajpai/IPS

Instead of dispersing the protesters, however, the crackdown brought more people to Jantar Mantar.

Nineteen-year-old Anshil Khan was among those who returned.

A first-year student at Delhi Skill and Entrepreneurship University, he had spent nearly three weeks at the protest. Four days earlier, he said, police had beaten him while demonstrators were trying to march towards Parliament Street. Even as he spoke, he carried hospital reports documenting his injuries.

“I got hit three times by the Delhi police,” he said. “I have been resting for four days, and today I have come back.”

He recalled crossing two barricades before police stopped the march at the third.

“We were peacefully protesting and only raising slogans of “Inquilab Zindabad” (Long Live Revolution). Nothing violent happened from our side.”

Delhi Police had issued a public advisory before the march stating that no permission had been granted for any procession beyond the designated protest site and later maintained that officers were enforcing prohibitory orders. Officials also said that both protesters and security personnel suffered injuries during the clashes.

For Anshil, however, the police action only strengthened public support.

“The students are coming along with their parents now,” he said, referring to the days following Wangchuk’s detention and the July 20 crackdown.

Anshil Khan, a member of the Students’ Federation of India (SFI), joins fellow protesters at Jantar Mantar. Credit: Aishwarya Bajpai/IPS

His demands had also evolved.

“Dharmendra Pradhan’s resignation is the first step,” he said. “Education is our first priority.”

That sentiment surfaced repeatedly across conversations at Jantar Mantar. Protesters were no longer speaking only about accountability for one minister; they were debating how India’s education system itself should function.

Standing nearby with a placard reading “We are fighting for our rights,” Nazia Khanam had travelled across Delhi to join the demonstration, despite never having been directly affected by an examination scandal.

A law student from Jodhpur interning in the capital, Khanam had successfully cleared the Common Law Admission Test (CLAT). But with her younger sister now preparing for the same examination, she felt she could not remain on the sidelines.

“Being an elder sister of a student who is going to give a competitive exam, it becomes my responsibility,” she said. “Even though I’m not personally affected, I should still come here and raise my voice.”

Unlike many demonstrations driven solely by outrage, Khanam arrived with ideas for reform.

“There should be stricter checks and balances at every bureaucratic level,” she said, referring to agencies such as the National Testing Agency, examination centres and other bodies involved in conducting competitive exams.

She also questioned how education policy is made.

“There should be other stakeholders involved,” she said. “Educators who have done actual groundwork, who know the ground reality, should be part of consultations before policies are formulated like Sonam Wangchuk.”

That conversation had drawn unexpected allies.

Among those standing with the students was Ashutosh Agarwal, National Vice-President of the Bharatiya Kisan Union, India’s youth wing. Before arriving in Delhi, he said, the union had organised meetings across Meerut, Muzaffarnagar and other parts of western Uttar Pradesh to mobilise support for the students.

“We demand one nation, one education,” he said.

For Agarwal, the increasing commercialisation of essential public services was inseparable from the examination crisis.

“We demand the end of privatisation of both education and health,” he said. “Otherwise paper leaks won’t stop.”

He argued that growing corporate influence over private schools, colleges and hospitals had weakened public institutions, making quality education increasingly inaccessible.

Parents had reached a similar conclusion.

Alisha Siddique came to Jantar Mantar thinking about her three children, particularly her daughter pursuing a Bachelor of Science degree. Unlike many protesters, she did not begin with paper leaks. Instead, she pointed to the everyday rules that, in her view, unfairly punish students.

“If students reach one or two minutes late because of an accident or emergency, they are not allowed to sit for the exam,” she said. “Their entire year’s hard work goes to waste.”

For Siddique, the issue was larger than examinations.

“We want our children to become good citizens,” she said. “That starts with good education.”

The examination crisis merely provided the spark for Avinash Kumar, a human rights practitioner and activist who is the former Executive Director of Amnesty International India and the Director of Policy, Research and Campaigns at Oxfam India.

“The constant leaking cauldron of competitive exams provided that cause,” he said. “Yet everyone knows it’s now not just about that.”

According to Kumar, the protests became an outlet for frustrations that had accumulated over years — declining public services, rising costs, increasing privatisation, shrinking civic freedoms and a growing sense that institutions no longer worked for ordinary citizens.

“You need a cause which cuts across classes and masses, age and gender and religion,” he said. “Competitive exams became that cause.”

What struck Kumar most was not just the scale of the demonstrations in Delhi but also the emergence of protests in places that rarely make national headlines.

“My attention was particularly drawn towards mass-scale showings in small unknown towns like Begusarai, Narnaul and Aurangabad,” he said. “All were speaking in one language of years of frustration.”

To him, that distinguished this movement from many previous protests.

Rather than revolving around one organisation or one political leader, it drew strength from multiple voices – student leaders, education reformers, farmers, parents, opposition politicians and ordinary citizens – each contributing from their own experience.

“It is a movement with very different leaders at different points of time,” Kumar said.

Two days after resignation, the protest site is almost empty.

The questions raised over 50 days of protest — about accountability, privatisation, public education and the future promised to India’s youth — remain standing.

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“It is no longer clear what is allowed and what is not. Uncertainty keeps people in their homes. The city has fallen silent, and businesses are struggling.” Credit: Learning Together.

By External Source
HERAT, Afghanistan, Jul 16 2026 (IPS)

One morning in June, Halima (name changed), went to the market in Herat, her hometown in western Afghanistan, with her mother. She was wearing a long coat and a surgical mask covering her face. She could not have imagined that just a few minutes later she would be sitting in prison.

Vehicles from the Ministry of the Promotion of Virtue and Prevention of Vice, or morality police, arrived at the market right after Halima and her mother. According to Halima, female employees of the ministry began arresting women without asking any questions. Cars waiting nearby took the detainees away.

“Everything happened quickly. Some tried to escape, while others were terrified. We did not understand on what basis the Taliban selected those to be arrested.”

Halima says that some of the women arrested were wearing burqas that covered both their faces and bodies. Like Halima, some were wearing long coats and face masks. Still, the morality police seized her.

“My mother cried and begged them not to take me. She was threatened with a one-month prison term, along with corporal punishment and a fine, if she tried to prevent my arrest. No one dared to come and help, even though my mother yelled.”

Women were being arrested, kicked and beaten, humiliated and mocked. Taliban troops stood by their SUVs, watching as their female colleagues grabbed the women. They grabbed those whose clothing did not conform to the Taliban’s concept of dress code

The phones of the arrested girls and women were confiscated. There were about 30 of them, and all were taken to a so-called shelter run by the Department of Labor and Social Affairs. It houses both single women and newly arrested women. None of them were allowed to contact their families. The next morning they were transferred to a prison.

The women’s wing of the prison was dirty and poorly equipped. Fear and uncertainty filled the minds of every prisoner.

“I sat in a corner and looked at my fellow prisoners: young girls, middle-aged women, and mothers who were worried about their children. There were about 60 of us. Everyone was either wearing a burqa or wearing what I thought was appropriate clothing. Yet, each of us was imprisoned because we supposedly did not follow the dress code,” says Halima.

The next day she was released. At home, her mother hugged her and they both cried. Halima was told that her father had paid 16,000 Afghanis (about 220 euros) for his daughter’s release. In addition, the family had to sign a guarantee that none of the women in the family would go out again without proper clothing.

After returning home, nothing felt the same. Halima’s brothers were furious and claimed that she had tarnished the family’s honor by going to prison.

“As if I had committed a crime! But I still believe that I did nothing wrong,” she says.

“Fear has become a part of my life. I will never forget those two nights in prison. I kept wondering whether all my fellow prisoners had been released and whether others had been arrested after us. I wondered what would happen to the women and girls of this country,” says Halima.

“I can’t go out like I used to. I’m always afraid when I leave home. I keep thinking about what will happen if I’m arrested again.”

Halima is not alone in her experiences. The Taliban have recently begun enforcing the dress code for women in Herat more strictly.

In early June, mosques in the city announced stricter regulations, and reports of the arrests of women and girls across the city began spreading on social media. The arrests have raised concerns, sparked protests and heightened security across the province.

According to the UN, at least 30 women were arrested in Herat over the first weekend of June.

Suhaila (name changed) remembers the moment when anger and powerlessness led many in Herat to protest.

The day before the protests, Suhaila went shopping at the market. Earlier that day, the imam of the local mosque had announced a new Taliban order: women who violated the dress code would be arrested and imprisoned without the possibility of appeal.

Suhaila’s father believed that the threats from the authorities should be taken seriously and that her daughter should not go out without full-body clothing. Suhaila followed her father’s advice and dressed as instructed, but still experienced something at the market that she will never forget.

“As soon as I arrived at the market, I sensed an unusual atmosphere of confusion. Women were moving restlessly from one side of the market to the other, and many were trying to do their shopping and leave as quickly as possible.”

Then it started happening. Women were being arrested, kicked and beaten, humiliated and mocked. Taliban troops stood by their SUVs, watching as their female colleagues grabbed the women. They grabbed those whose clothing did not conform to the Taliban’s concept of dress code.

“I wanted to scream and protest, but I was at the market with my little sister. I held her tightly to me and just cried. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, they would take us, too.”

Zainab did not escape.

That evening, Suhaila joined a WhatsApp group for young people in her neighborhood, where they discussed what had happened. The group had dozens of messages about the arrests. Some shared photos and stories of what had happened, while others shared personal experiences of family members.

Soon, the group began dicussing the possibility of organizing a protest. Some warned that protesting would lead to more arrests and perhaps even deaths. Others believed that remaining silent in the face of injustice would rob people of their self-respect.

Suhaila decided to join the protests. She wanted to give a voice to the girls and women whose arrests she had witnessed. In the morning, she left for the agreed-upon meeting point without telling her father about her plans and despite her mother’s objections. The protesters began chanting slogans demanding women’s rights to education, work, and freedom.

The protest grew quickly but did not last long. Suddenly, Taliban SUVs approached the crowd from several directions and surrounded it. The protesters were beaten, and the Taliban opened fire. Desperate screams could be heard everywhere, and people looked for shelter wherever they could. Some were injured, while others tried to help them.

Among those arrested were also Suhaila’s friends.

“Zainab did not escape. The last time I saw her was when she was forced into a Taliban car. No one has heard from her since,” Suhaila says.

“We do not feel safe even in our homes. The Taliban are going from street to street looking for protesters,” Suhaila says of the atmosphere after the protests.

Fear is everywhere. Women no longer want to go to the market, and many families leave their homes only when forced to.

It is no longer clear what is allowed and what is not. Uncertainty keeps people in their homes. The city has fallen silent and businesses are struggling.

Shakoor (name changed) believes that it is not just a question of women’s clothing.

“Girls and women have a special status in this city. Arresting a woman or publicly humiliating her is considered an attack on the dignity and honor of the family. That is why the reaction has been so strong, and this time men have also demonstrated.”

The local Taliban administration believes that tightening the dress code for women protects social values.

Governor Noor Ahmad Islamjar believes the protests are the result of misunderstandings and outside influence. In a television interview, he reminded the public that demonstrations are not allowed.

The Taliban regime says the women arrested will be released after receiving a warning, their families will be notified, and they will be required to sign a pledge to follow the dress code. However, not all families know what has happened to their loved ones.

One of them is Suhaila’s friend, Zainab. Her family has not heard from her since her arrest.

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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Ask why so many Indian classrooms struggle, and the answers arrive in the language of audit: Too few trained teachers, too many vacancies, weak colleges of education and low accountability. Each of these is real, and each matters. Yet none of them explains a quiet confession a veteran teacher made to me, years into her career, holding a teacher training degree all the while. “Only this program”, she said, “made me realize what my prior training had left out”. The program she was referring to is a small teaching preparation program in Gurugram, North India called I Am A Teacher, or IAAT.

Vani S. Kulkarni

We argue endlessly about whether teachers are qualified. We rarely ask whether they have been formed.

Across hundreds of hours of conversation, a pattern emerged. To become a teacher, these women and men had to become three things at once: a person, an educator, and someone who could earn a living from the work. We obsess, rightly, over the second and third. We build degrees and licenses and salary scales around them. The first we treat as if it takes care of itself. It does not.

Formation as a person sounds soft until you watch what it does in a classroom. One teacher described a child who was being difficult, the kind of child she once would have disciplined and labeled. After her training, she found herself feeling something closer to empathy, sitting with the situation instead of punishing it. A week later, she said, the child was thriving. Another spoke of finally learning to listen to her students, and to her own children, after years of mistaking instruction for relationship. Many said a version of the same thing: that a conventional degree had certified them, but had not made them ready to teach on the first day. This program, they felt, had.

There is a gendered story here too, and it is important. Almost ninety percent of the teachers in the program were women, many returning to work for a second innings, after the corporate world or after years at home. For them, the experience was about identity, confidence and economic independence as much as it was about pedagogy. When we talk about teacher quality in the abstract, we forget that the teaching workforce in this country is overwhelmingly of women, and a certificate, rarely captures that what brings them into a classroom, and keeps them there.

But here is the finding that should trouble policymakers most, and I offer it precisely because it complicates the hopeful story. Over a decade, the meaning of this program changed for the people inside it. Its earliest cohorts spoke of a calling. They used words like temple, transformation, a remaking of the self. Later cohorts, without quite abandoning that language, increasingly described the program more materialistically, in the currency of placements and salaries. The expressive was slowly giving way to the instrumental.

I do not read this as the failure of one program. I read it as the gravitational pull of a system that values teaching only as a credential and a job, and that drags even its idealists toward the transactional. If this is what happens inside a program built expressly to resist that pull, it tells us something about the field as a whole.

As the National Education Policy rebuilds teacher education around new integrated degrees, it has a rare chance to ask a better question than how many teachers we can certify. The harder question is whether we are forming them. And formation cannot be examined into existence. It needs mentoring, time, reflection, and the experience of belonging to a community of fellow teachers. These are exactly the things a metrics-driven system finds hardest to fund, because they do not show up on a dashboard, and because their results appear years later, in a child who was seen rather than sorted.

I want to be honest about the limits of what I studied. One program in one city is not a national blueprint. There were skeptics among the teachers I met, some who found the approach overdone, and circumstances my research could not reach. A small case is not proof. But a small case such as IAAT that for a decade has quietly and against the current, tried to keep the expressive dimension central by focusing on formation of teacher as a person can still hold up a mirror, and what this one reflects is a blind spot we can no longer afford.

India does not have a shortage of people willing to teach. It has a shortage of attention to who they become on the way. A license certifies that a person has met a requirement. It does not certify that a person has been made ready to stand in front of thirty children and actually see them. Until we learn to value that making, and until we are willing to pay for it, we will keep mistaking the certificate for the teacher. Recognising and resourcing teacher-training programs such as IAAT would cost little and benefit teacher quality a great deal.

Vani S. Kulkarni is a sociologist affiliated with the University of Pennsylvania, and has held research and teaching appointments at Harvard and Yale universities. Her research navigates the intricate crossroads of Global Health, Education, Race and Caste, Gender, Sociology of Trust, Development, and Democracy.

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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?

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Philippines was the most advanced Southeast Asian country with the highest per capita GDP until about the early 1960s. Its per capita GDP in purchasing power parity terms were about the same as South Korea’s and above that of Thailand in the early 1970s.The Nobel Laureate economist, Gunnar Myrdal, did not have much hope for “disease infested” Indonesia when in 1968 he published his famous Asian Drama: An Enquiry Into the Poverty of Nations. But Indonesia surged ahead since the late 1960s with growth acceleration exceeding that of Philippines; thus, eventually overtaking Philippines in GDP per capita in the mid-1980s. What factors separated Indonesia from Philippines?

Elite Stake

It has been the elite stake in the country that played the critical role. The Indonesian elite put their trust in the country, whereas the Filipino elite began to think that their future was in the United States (US). Incidentally, this coincided with President Ferdinand Marcos’ turning into a despot by imposing martial law in 1972 and embracing a policy of “constitutional authoritarianism”.

Anis Chowdhury

It does not mean that IFFs do not occur in Indonesia. In recent years, IFFs have become a major concern for Indonesia; however, there the main actors are multinational corporations, especially in the mining sector. The mining sector in Indonesia accounted for 10.5% of total of IFFs out of Indonesia.

The difference is in the scale and actors.

Good governance myth

Poor governance, especially corruption, is seen as a critical barrier to development. However, the Philippines and Indonesia tale casts doubt on the “good governance” thesis.

Indonesia ranks 109th out of 180 countries in the Corruption Perceptions Index (CPI), while Philippines ranks 120th. Although Philippines is placed at a lower place than Indonesia, corruption is endemic in both countries and the scale is not much different.

However, the difference is where the ill-gotten money is being invested. Without condoning corruption, the tale of these two countries implies that if the ill-gotten money is invested domestically instead of siphoned-off, the country will experience a better development outcome. One can call this “patriotic” corruption as a means of primitive capital accumulation. Where the corrupt money is siphoned-off, corruption is “predatory” analogous to colonial plundering.

Bangladesh is a glaring example of predatory corruption. A 2011 UNDP report ranked Bangladesh no 1 among least developed countries in IFFs. Between 1990 and 2008 the cumulative illicit outflow of funds from Bangladesh was estimated at US$34.8 billion. An estimated US$234 billion was plundered from Bangladesh during Sheikh Hasina’s 15-year autocratic reign.

Authoritarianism debunked

The East Asian development success created a perception, codified in the “Lee hypothesis”, that authoritarian regimes deliver better development outcomes than democracies. Sheikh Hasina, like many other despots, used this argument to consolidate her autocratic rule by brutal suppression of human and democratic rights.

As highlighted earlier, in the case of Indonesia, the elite displayed trust in the country, while in the case of Philippines and Bangladesh, the elite plundered to siphon-off with the aid of repressive kleptocratic regimes.

At the end, however, all three autocratic regimes collapsed; but rebuilding the trust and elite stake in the country remains a challenge in plundered countries like Philippines and Bangladesh.

Anna Karenina principle

Leo Tolstoy in his 1877 novel, Anna Karenina, laid down the Anna Karenina principle: “All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way”. The Anna Karenina principle implies that a deficiency in any one of several critical factors dooms a complex endeavour to failure even if all other essential factors are present. In technical jargons, they constitute the “sufficient” condition for the “necessary condition” to work.

Both Indonesia and Philippines share many common factors – they are both archipelago consisting of thousands of small islands dispersed over vast areas of the South China Sea like a garland. They are ethnically diverse; while Indonesia is a Muslim majority country, Catholics dominate in Philippines. Both faiths are regarded as un-worldly, focusing more on the hereafter compared with the Protestant ethics, which is more conducive for capitalism to flourish. Both countries also experienced ethnic separatist armed conflicts.

Both Indonesia and Philippines had pro-US regimes, and the two countries witnessed repressive autocratic rules lasting for decades. Both pro-US regimes also received large US aid and access to the US market as well as foreign direct investment.

Yet their development experiences have differed.

The missing factor is elite stake, the glue to hold all other essential conducive factors together.

Anis Chowdhury, Emeritus Professor, Western Sydney University (Australia). He held senior UN positions in Bangkok and New York and served as Special Assistant to the Chief Advisor for Finance (with the status and rank of State Minister) in the Professor Yunus-led Interim Government. Anis has written extensively on East and Southeast Asian economies, including The Newly Industrialising Economies of East Asia (Routledge) and The Political Economy of East Asia (Oxford University Press). E-mail: anis.z.chowdhury@gmail.com; a.chowdhury@westernsydney.edu.au

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Ranjana Kumari, activist.

By Kumkum Chadha
NEW DELHI, Jul 13 2026 (IPS)

To say that the men scored over women yet again would be an understatement. To say that the women lost and men have won would be an oversimplification and to say that political manoeuvring, intrigue and deceit outdid half of India’s population would be stating the obvious.

So, what is the story? Or the plot with its twists and turns? Or the game that women lost even before they started playing?

Rewind to three decades when the women of India woke up to what today is branded as political empowerment.

In this context the one name that stands out is that of Parliamentarian Geeta Mukherjee, who chaired the Joint Parliamentary Committee to examine a Bill seeking reservation of seats for women in Parliament and state legislatures: 33 percent to be precise.

It was in 1996 that a legislation for this was tabled in the Lower House of the Indian Parliament

We are into 2026, and the women of India are still fighting for legitimacy in political power, relentlessly demanding what is their due.

The Women’s Reservation Bill has been tabled in Parliament several times – five times, to be precise.

Its history and the twists and turns that come with it are telling. Add to the mix the interesting questions that its tumultuous journey has thrown up. But more importantly, what has this unfulfilled dream done to the dignity of women of the world’s largest democracy? Simply put, it has left them hanging, staring in the dark with a ‘will it? will it not?’  question. As things have panned out, the future holds little hope.

Rewind to the Constituent Assembly that adopted the Constitution of India in 1949. Of its 389 members, only 15 were women. There were questions even then, but they were different.

If a woman member feared that reservation would mean restriction and, hence, exclusion of women from general seats, another member asked quite pointedly: “Were women not led by the heart, and was politics not a matter of the mind? Even as the heart versus the head debate dogged minds, the issue remained unresolved.

Some fifty years later, in 1996 to be exact, it was Sushma Swaraj, then a Parliament Member and later India’s foreign minister, who resurrected the issue. She told Parliament that only 6.5 of the 543 members in the Lower House of Parliament were women. Without saying it in so many words, she indicated that the situation was dismal and the future bleak.

Swaraj’s words were prophetic. The future was indeed bleak because three decades on, the women continue to fight for what should rightfully be theirs.

When the Bill was introduced in Parliament in 1996 and later in 1998 and 1999, the men kind of ganged up to ensure that a smooth passage was thwarted. On all three occasions, the Bill lapsed upon the dissolution of the Lower House in Parliament.

However, in 2008 another route was adopted and this time around it was introduced in the Upper House of Parliament.

This obviated the possibility of a lapse given that the Indian Parliament is structured in such a way that the Lower House has a fixed five-year term while the Upper House is a permanent chamber which is not subject to dissolution. Unlike the Lower House of Parliament, Bills tabled in the Upper House do not lapse.

That notwithstanding, the smooth passage of the Bill in the Lower House still remains a question mark, and that too a big one, staring at women in the face.

All through this rigmarole what stood out and continues to is the contempt and disregard men have for women in this part of the world.  And these are no ordinary men but those who have been elected to work for the welfare of the people, men and women alike. Therefore, when they speak of women in disparaging terms, one stops to ask: have we actually progressed or do we continue to be a regressive and male-dominated society – one where men outside and fathers, brothers and husbands at home continue to call the shots?

Even as the answer is obvious, one’s soul may cringe at the manner in which lawmakers inside Parliament have targeted women during the several debates on reserving 33 percent of seats in Parliament and state legislatures.

Sample this: During a 1997 parliamentary debate, two leaders, both from the backward castes, opposed reservation even as they demanded what was termed a “quota within quota” for women. Decode this and it means that within the 33 percent reservation ensure a certain representation for the other backward castes, Dalits and Muslim women.

In the Indian context, the untouchables are called Dalits, while the Other Backward Castes, or OBCs as they are popularly known, represent the marginalised. The Muslims comprise the minorities in India.

But back to the debate in Parliament when these two leaders spearheaded the anti-reservation campaign under the garb of protection for women from the marginalised and backward castes.

They use “choicest phrases”, if one can use the term, to denigrate women segregating the elite and educated from the rural and the unversed.

 Calling them par-kati mahilayen, roughly translated as ‘short-haired and elite’, a former Union Minister, Sharad Yadav, from the state of Bihar, threatened to consume poison if a Bill was passed without proper caste representation. His take: women who are privileged, urban and elite do not understand the struggle of their counterparts living in far-flung rural areas.

To quote him: “Like Socrates, who died consuming poison fighting for principles, I am also willing to die fighting for principles.” Given the male mind-set, such a statement may well be interpreted as if it is women’s reservation, and it will be “over my dead body”.

A former Chief Minister, Mulayam Singh Yadav, from the state of Uttar Pradesh, had another fear. Way back in 2010 he had told his constituents: “The kind of women who will enter Parliament… The wives and daughters of officers and businessmen, who invite whistles from boys…” He also said that rural women would be left out because they are “not that attractive”.

Another leader, a former Union Minister and Chief Minister, Lalu Prasad Yadav from the state of Bihar, said that India being a “male-dominated society”, to use his exact words, women vote according to the political diktat of the family. In other words, they are incapable of thinking and choosing independently and are a rubber stamp of their husbands: “My own wife votes according to my diktat,” the former Chief Minister had then said.

In later years, Yadav anointed his wife to succeed him when he was jailed in a fodder scam.

For the record, Lalu Prasad Yadav, who has served as Chief Minister of India’s populous state of Bihar and also as Union Minister, was convicted in a fodder scam and charged with syphoning off huge amounts from the animal husbandry department. This followed his resignation. Not the one to cede political space to anyone outside the family, Yadav named his wife, Rabri Devi, as his successor. That Devi was uneducated and could not even sign her name did not matter considering she was her husband’s proxy.

The first woman to head the state of Bihar, Devi ruled the state not once but three times over.

That notwithstanding, it is true that in India men dictate where and how their wives, mothers and sisters, or rather all the women in the family, should vote. This is one of the reasons why En bloc voting is a rule rather than an exception among women in rural areas.

However, by 2023 the power of the women’s vote dawned on political parties, particularly under Prime Minister Narendra Modi, who has launched several welfare schemes for women while heading the Government in India.

Unwilling to lose the momentum of emerging as a votary for women’s rights, the Modi Government brought in the Reservation Bill, which was passed in the Lower House of the Indian Parliament, both grudgingly and willingly.

With this, history took a half-turn: a half-turn because even while the Bill mandated a 33 per cent reservation, it was tied to a distant future, namely the upcoming census and subsequent redrawing of electoral constituencies or delimitation as it is better known and understood.

Ostensibly, it was a step forward, but in reality, it was an idea stuck in time. Linking reservation to the Census and delimitation that would follow was talking of a distant future because there is neither clarity on when the Census will take place nor a clear date, rather year, when the delimitation will take effect. Hence, the passing of the Bill remains a cosmetic measure and one on paper.

The truth of the matter is that men are reluctant to cede political space to women. Yet for any political party to oppose a  reform like political empowerment for women is clearly counter-productive. No party can be seen as being a roadblock to women’s progress and risk being perceived as anti-women.

Therefore, while each party professes support for the issue and the cause, the real story is that they do not want to see reservation being a reality. The answer is simple: if 33 percent reservation for women becomes a law, then it is the men who will have to give up their seats to make way for women. In a patriarchal society like India, this seems like a pipe dream.

Having said that, it is ironic that every political party has committed to providing reservation in their political manifestos but no party has budged an inch to work towards this welfare measure. If anything, they have consistently worked against the Bill becoming a reality.

Fast forward to 2026 when the Government brought in the Women Reservation Bill in Parliament yet again through a special session of Parliament. But, this time around, the motive was suspect. The move was sudden and came at a time when the state elections were underway. Therefore, there was more politics than good intent that was attributed to what the Government wanted to showcase as women’s welfare.

What made it worse was that the Government tagged another bill with the women’s reservation bill: delimitation.

For the uninitiated, delimitation is the process of redrawing the boundaries of electoral constituencies. By this principle, seats for Parliament and states would be reallocated on the basis of the latest census, which is yet incomplete.

The Government’s bid to club delimitation with the reservation bill was decried. Opposition parties slammed the Government for making women a scapegoat and “using women” for a political end.

To quote an Opposition MP, Mahua Moitra, the Government’s move was “delimitation wrapped in a saree”. What she meant was that the Government is firing from the shoulders of women to push through legislation which otherwise would be opposed tooth and nail.

It is pertinent to mention that the opposition-ruled states are against delimitation, as it erodes the political power of those states that have fewer numbers in terms of population. With the voting numbers stacked against the Government, the Delimitation Bill would have hit a roadblock  in Parliament. Hence, the Government linked the two Bills. The logic: delimitation would ride piggyback on the Women’s Reservation Bill. The women’s vote being very important in elections, no party would like to be seen as opposing women’s reservation.

However, the Government’s calculations went haywire and the Opposition unitedly voted against the Bill. The result: What seemed achievable fell through.

As an opposition member of Parliament, Sushmita Dev explained, “We are not against women’s reservation. But what is a betrayal is the Government riding on the shoulders of women to push delimitation. Why link delimitation with women’s reservation? Why bring in politics? Why push an agenda? Why not given women the dignity they deserve?” is what she asks.

Politics apart, women who have been fighting for women’s empowerment for decades see this slugfest between the Government and the Opposition as “a lost opportunity”. To quote activist Ranjana Kumari, Founder of the Centre for Social Research: “The defeat of the Women Bill in Parliament compels deeper reflection on the state of India’s democracy. There is a gap between intent and action. The political parties must take responsibility and move beyond tokenism. Globally, gender quotas have demonstrated that change is possible when backed by political commitment and clear design. India stands at a similar crossroads.”

Kumari has been in the forefront of the women’s reservation movement in India.

It is at this juncture that one needs to stop and ask: For how long will the women of India keep knocking doors? For how long will political parties and politicians continue making them scapegoats to achieve their political goals? Why is their due being denied to them time and again? Why do they continue to be victims at the hands of men who are politically powerful?

Why does politics get the better of women? Why is their future being linked to complicated legislative processes? Why are they being subjected to political juggernauts?

Too many questions but one straight and simple answer: The men of India, as in many other parts of the world, want women to continue being subservient and remain second class in a world where half the sky is theirs.

IPS UN Bureau Report

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