The Human Consciousness Now...Our World in the Midst of Becoming...to What? Observe, contemplate Now.
SRINAGAR, India, Mar 31 2026 (IPS) - For the past few weeks, residents living in and around Dal Lake in Indian Kashmir have witnessed “a different phenomenon” as a green sludge has accumulated on the once pristine water. Photos circulating widely on social media triggered a public outcry.
Some citizens and environmentalists warned that the transformation reflects heavy sewage pollution in this Himalayan Lake in the heart of Srinagar, Kashmir’s summer capital. The Dal Lake is a complex wetland ecosystem covering roughly 18 square kilometres that supports fisheries, aquatic vegetation, and thousands of livelihoods tied to tourism and lake agriculture.
Officials managing the lake, however, urged calm and said that the sudden discolouration was most likely caused by a lack of rainfall and unusual temperatures for the season in Kashmir, though they didn’t deny the pollution problem and nutrient richness in the lake.
Muzamil Ahmad Rafiqui, Superintending Engineer for Kashmir’s Lake Conservation and Management Authority (LCMA), said that the lake is receiving nutrients, pesticides and other pollutants from the peripheries at many sources because of agricultural and other activities.
But Rafiqui added that the discolouration was more so due to over 50 percent reduction in precipitation and constant above-normal temperatures for weeks in this part of the season in Kashmir.
“Also, when the inflow from all the channels supplying water to the lake is extremely low and the outflow gates of the lake are also closed for retaining water in the lake, it is quite natural there will be changes in the water colour in a stagnant water body,” Rafiqui said.
Experts, scientific studies and official watchdogs have highlighted decades of pollution, sewage inflow and unregulated urban growth that have steadily degraded this iconic lake in the Kashmir Himalayas. A report submitted by Kashmir’s Pollution Control Committee (PCC) to the National Green Tribunal in response to the latter’s directions and other reports in recent years confirmed the “unabated flow of untreated sewage” into the Dal Lake in “violation of environmental norms”.
From Exclusion to Participation
Earlier this year, the Jammu and Kashmir government, in a dramatic policy shift, shelved a 416-crore rupees (USD 4.5 million) Dal Lake restoration project that had started implementation nearly two decades ago but had made little progress. The project aimed to move nearly 9,000 families living near Dal Lake to the city outskirts but was able to relocate only 1,808 families in 17 years.
The project, approved in 2009, centred on relocating thousands of families living inside the lake to newly built colonies on the outskirts of Srinagar, as the authorities believed human settlements within the lake were a major source of pollution and encroachment.
Now the government has abandoned the relocation-driven strategy altogether. In its place, officials are now promoting an in-situ conservation model that recognises lake dwellers as part of the ecosystem rather than obstacles to restoration.
The new approach proposes developing “eco-hamlets” within the lake’s settlements, installing sewage systems, treating inflowing drains and improving water circulation through dredging and channel restoration.
“It is a striking shift in philosophy. The very communities who were once blamed for the lake’s decline are now being seen as potential guardians,” said Raja Muzaffar Bhat, a prominent environmental and social activist based in Srinagar who often files petitions in India’s National Green Tribunal against the local administration for “failing to implement environmental safety rules and regulations” available under a broader regulatory framework in India for environmental protection.
Whether the new conservation strategy succeeds, said Bhat, may depend on “whether it combines community participation with stronger environmental governance.”
Iftikhar Drabu, a senior engineer who specialises in water engineering, warned that without stronger sewage infrastructure, strict regulation of tourism and effective monitoring of inflowing drains, community participation alone will not restore the lake. “Nothing will work in isolation. A multi-pronged approach is needed for conserving the lake,” he said.
‘We Know How to Protect the Lake’
For many families who have so far been relocated, the policy reversal has reopened painful questions. At Rakh-e-Arath, a rehabilitation colony on Srinagar’s outskirts built for displaced lake residents. “They told us our presence was destroying the lake. We believed the government and moved here,” said a resident, Mohammd Ashraf, whose family was relocated 10 years back, adding that life away from the water, all these years, has been difficult.
“Our time was wasted and our livelihoods were ruined,” he said. “We only know the lake as we were born there and have spent our childhood and youth by the lake. Fishing, growing vegetables on floating gardens, and rowing tourists in small boats are what we are adapted to,” Ashraf told Inter Press Service (IPS).
If the government now says people are needed to protect the lake, he said, “I welcome it, and I hope we will be taken back to the lake.” Other relocated families, who IPS spoke with, expressed similar feelings.
Communities living on the lake have historically maintained its channels, harvested weeds and monitored changes in water conditions. Integrating them into restoration efforts, they say, could help control the pollution and conserve the lake. “We have always been urging the government to give us the responsibility of conserving the lake. We are the ones who know the lake, not the people who sit in government offices,” said Akram Guru, a Shikara Walla at Dal Lake.
“We have been dubbed as the lake’s destroyers for decades. Now they say the lake needs its people,” he said smilingly. “I hope the change in the government’s approach finally facilitates our contribution to protecting the lake.”
NEW YORK, Mar 31 2026 (IPS) - Trump’s Iran war has left the Gulf shattered: US bases turned into targets, economies battered, and the “oasis” myth destroyed. Gulf rulers now confront a harsh reckoning over their reliance on Washington and the uncertain search for a new, fragile security order.
As Trump assembled major US naval and air assets in the eastern Mediterranean and the Gulf, Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Qatar, and others quietly urged Washington to avoid a full-scale assault on Iran, fearing a direct blowback on their territory and energy infrastructure.
Nevertheless, the US–Israeli air campaign began on February 28, 2026, without a clearly defined and publicly articulated political endgame beyond “crippling” Iran’s capabilities. This disconnect between military escalation and strategic purpose now lies at the core of Gulf leaders’ anger and sense of betrayal toward Washington.
Trump’s Strategic Miscalculation
Trump’s decision to launch joint US–Israeli strikes on Iran has produced far higher strategic costs than his administration appears to have anticipated, from energy shock and disrupted shipping to heightened regional fragmentation and anti-American sentiment.
Even if Iranian capabilities are significantly degraded, the war has exposed vulnerabilities in US power projection, unsettled allies, and invited greater Russian and Chinese diplomatic activism in the Gulf. The long-term “price” for Washington will be measured less in battlefield metrics than in diminished trust and leverage among its traditional Arab partners.
US Bases Turned to Liabilities
From a Gulf perspective, US bases in Qatar, Bahrain, Kuwait, and the UAE were meant to deter Iran and guarantee regime security; instead, they became priority targets once the war began. Iran explicitly framed its strikes on these facilities as retaliation against Washington, but their location in densely populated and economically vital areas meant that nearby civilian infrastructure also suffered severe damage.
This experience is reinforcing a view in Gulf capitals that foreign basing arrangements draw fire without delivering the reliable protection they assumed for decades.
A Nightmare Realized
Gulf leaders long warned that a war with Iran would shatter their security and economies, a nightmare that has now materialized as Iranian missiles and drones hit oil facilities, ports, power plants, and cities across the region. They blame Washington for launching the campaign and Israel for pressing to “neutralize” Iran regardless of collateral damage in neighboring Arab states.
The sense in Gulf capitals is that their caution was dismissed, while they have paid a disproportionate price in physical destruction, economic setback, disrupted exports, and heightened domestic anxiety.
Shattered Oasis Narrative
The image of Gulf hubs like Dubai, Doha, and Riyadh as insulated “oases” open to business, tourism, and investment has been badly damaged by missile alerts, strikes on ports and airports, and the closure of key sea lanes.
Restoring confidence will require visible reconstruction, enhanced civil defense, improved air and missile defenses, and credible diplomacy that lowers the perceived risk of another sudden war. Investors and tourists will demand proof that the region can manage Iran-related tensions, not just high-end events and mega-projects.
Trump’s Misreading of Iranian Escalation
Trump publicly argued that overwhelming force would quickly coerce Iran and usher in regime change while keeping fighting “over there,” yet he appears not to have anticipated the breadth of Iranian retaliation against neighboring Gulf states or a prolonged closure of the Strait of Hormuz.
The IRGC’s effective shutdown of the strait, including attacks and threats against commercial shipping, has produced global energy shocks and exposed the fragility of US planning assumptions. For Gulf leaders, this underscores how inadequate Washington’s war planning was in accounting for second- and third-order consequences.
Calculated Decision Not to Retaliate
Despite heavy damage, Gulf rulers have so far avoided direct retaliation against Iran, calculating that further escalation would expose their cities and infrastructure to even more punishing strikes. Publicly, they stress restraint and international law, but privately, officials acknowledge their enduring geographic reality: they must coexist with a powerful and proximate Iran long after this US-led campaign ends.
By holding their fire, they hope to preserve space for postwar de-escalation and avoid being locked into a permanent state of open conflict.
Recasting Security Arrangements with Washington
Given their limited strategic alternatives, Gulf monarchies are unlikely to sever ties with Washington but will seek more conditional, transactional security arrangements. They are pressing for clearer US commitments on defense of their territory, better integration of regional missile defenses, and greater say over decisions that could trigger Iranian retaliation.
At the same time, they will hedge by deepening ties with China, Russia, Europe, and Asian energy importers, thereby reducing exclusive reliance on the US while keeping the American security umbrella in place.
Gulf Options to Prevent Future Conflagration
To prevent a repeat, Gulf states are also exploring limited de-escalation channels with Tehran, tighter regional crisis hotlines, and revived maritime security arrangements that include non-Western actors such as China and India. They may push for new rules of engagement around energy infrastructure and shipping lanes, seeking informal understandings that keep these off-limits even in crises.
Internally, they are reassessing missile defense, hardening critical facilities, and considering more diversified export routes that reduce dependence on Hormuz. None of these options are fully reassuring, but together they offer partial risk reduction.
Prospects for Normalization with Iran
Speculation about full normalization, including a non-belligerency pact between Iran and Gulf states, builds on prewar trends of cautious dialogue and economic engagement. Whether this is truly “in the cards” depends on war outcomes, Iran’s internal politics, and Gulf threat perceptions: if Tehran’s regime survives but remains hostile, Gulf states will likely revert to hedging—combining deterrence, limited engagement, and outreach to outside powers.
A more pragmatic Iranian leadership could make structured security arrangements and phased confidence-building measures more plausible over time.
No Return to Status Quo Ante
The Gulf States will not return to the prewar status quo; instead, they are likely to pursue a more diversified security architecture, combining a thinner US shield with expanded ties to China, Russia, and Asian importers. This shift will gradually dilute Washington’s centrality in Gulf security, complicating US force posture and Israel’s assumption of automatic Arab backing against Iran.
For Israel, a more cautious, risk-averse Gulf may limit overt strategic alignment, while for the US, enduring mistrust will make coalition-building for future crises far more difficult.
Trump’s Iran adventure is not an isolated blunder but the latest, and perhaps most explosive, expression of his assault on an already fragile global order. By discarding restraint, sidelining allies, and weaponizing American power for short-term political gain, he has accelerated the erosion of US credibility, fractured Western alliances, and opened new strategic space for Russia and China. The Gulf States are simply the newest casualties of this disorder: their cities struck, economies shaken, and security assumptions shattered.
Whatever emerges from this war, it will not be a restored status quo, but a more fragmented, volatile Middle East in which Israel and the United States confront a diminished margin for error and a far narrower circle of willing, trusting partners.
Dr. Alon Ben-Meir is a retired professor of international relations, most recently at the Center for Global Affairs at New York University (NYU). He taught courses on international negotiation and Middle Eastern studies.
alon@alonben-meir.com
IPS UN Bureau
KUALA LUMPUR, Malaysia, Mar 31 2026 (IPS) - While media coverage of Iran’s restrictions on passage through the Hormuz Straits focuses on fuel prices, partial closure is also disrupting crucial fertiliser and other supplies, risking catastrophe for billions worldwide.
Jomo Kwame Sundaram
Since the war began, only a few of the hundred or so vessels, previously passing through the narrow Straits of Hormuz daily, still do so.
Hormuz is not just a chokepoint on a shipping lane for oil and gas; it has strategic implications for fertiliser, helium, and other energy-intensive exports as well as for food and other imports to the region.
Higher energy costs affect most transportation and farming requirements, such as tilling and harvesting, as well as fertiliser supplies.
Wars, especially protracted ones, have lasting effects, including for agrifood systems. Without earlier investments, output elsewhere cannot be easily increased.
Alternative fertiliser supply sources are not readily available, especially as agro-ecological options have rarely been seriously pursued despite their proven viability.
As with renewable energy generation to reduce the need for petroleum imports, it is unclear whether the looming food crisis will accelerate the needed and feasible agro-ecological transition for enhanced food security.
Disrupted food supplies
Shipping delays and port congestion disrupt food supplies, trade and availability.
K Kuhaneetha Bai
Many states have recently tried to improve their food security, expanding strategic reserves, investing in food agriculture and alternative supply routes.
Such measures have improved resilience but cannot address a prolonged blockade of the Persian Gulf. About 70% of the food for Saudi Arabia, Iraq and the Gulf emirates passes through Hormuz.
Replacing disrupted food imports for about 100 million people would require moving almost 100 million kilograms (kg) of food into the region daily by other means.
Supplying food to the Gulf region under blockade would require an unprecedented operation, possibly through contested airspace.
In 2024, the UN World Food Programme delivered about 7 million kg of food daily to 81 million people in 71 countries.
Weather-driven food shortages and price spikes triggered political instability in 2008 and 2010-11. With food systems worldwide increasingly vulnerable to climate shocks, food insecurity threatens regimes everywhere.
Fertilisers
Farmers worldwide need stable supplies of fertilisers and fuel.
The Iran war threatens to disrupt these supplies, so crucial to agricultural production. Staple crops like wheat, rice and maize rely heavily on fertilisers.
Iran, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, the Emirates and Bahrain all ship petroleum products through Hormuz, including a fifth of the world’s liquefied natural gas (LNG).
As LNG is key to producing many fertilisers, Gulf exports have become more significant, especially after the war cut Ukraine’s exports, and China and Russia reduced theirs as well.
In 2024, the Middle East accounted for almost 30% of major fertiliser exports, including nitrogen, phosphate and potash.
The Gulf alone exported 23% of the world’s ammonia and 34% of its urea, while 30-40% of the world’s nitrogen fertiliser exports pass through Hormuz!
In mid-2025, Kpler estimated that a Hormuz closure could reduce fertiliser supplies by 33%, with sulphur-based ones falling by 44% and urea by 30%.
Reduced nitrogen-based fertiliser exports would hurt major food exporters such as Brazil, the US, Thailand, and India, all heavily reliant on fertiliser imports. However, the impact of shortages may be delayed until imported stocks run out.
As the war drags on, farmers may cut fertiliser use by planting less or switching to crops requiring less. Poorer harvests would, in turn, adversely affect later investment, planting and fertiliser use.
Who suffers most?
The economic consequences of the unprovoked US-Israeli assault on Iran and Tehran’s responses are spreading fast and catastrophically, especially for the most vulnerable.
Iran’s new leadership mistrusts Washington and will keep Hormuz closed – choking fuel, food, and fertiliser flows through it – to secure the guarantees it needs to reduce its vulnerability.
As attacks on Iran continued, Tehran stepped up targeted attacks on infrastructure in the Gulf kingdoms hosting US military facilities. US-led efforts have provided little relief to its allies.
The worldwide impact is uneven, with the poorest taking the brunt. Asia and Africa have been hard hit by heavy reliance on oil, gas, and fertiliser imports.
Rich nations’ aid cuts to increase military spending have worsened poverty and hunger for millions, many of whom are also victims of war and aggression.
Unlike the rich, many migrant workers in the Gulf who cannot leave will struggle to make ends meet and send money home to their families.
And as the world’s attention has turned to the Gulf, Israel has worsened conditions in Gaza while taking over southern Lebanon and increasing Yemen’s pain.
Concerned about retribution in November’s mid-term elections, the White House is keen on a ceasefire.
But it has not offered terms acceptable to Iran, which remains suspicious of the US commitment to its own promises, let alone the rule of law.
Hence, the Iranian leadership is unlikely to agree to a ceasefire without credible guarantees for its future security from renewed Israeli and US aggression.
The Iran war has highlighted, yet again, the collateral damage of war and the food system’s vulnerability. Meanwhile, the suffering of the more vulnerable is ignored by the greater powers, who pay little heed to their plight.
IPS UN Bureau
GENEVA, Mar 30 2026 (IPS) - The United Nations was not founded to be comfortable; it was founded to be necessary. Created in the aftermath of catastrophe, its purpose was clear: to maintain international peace and security, to uphold international law, to defend human rights and to promote human dignity and development.
Dag Hammarskjöld, who understood that the Secretary-General was not merely a secretary to governments, but a servant of the Charter and, ultimately, of the peoples of the world.
As member states consider the appointment of the next Secretary-General, they face a decision that will shape not only the future of the United Nations, but also its credibility. The world today does not suffer from a surplus of institutions; it suffers from a shortage of trust in them.
The next Secretary-General must therefore be more than a careful manager of bureaucracy. The world needs a leader with vision, independence and integrity — a leader willing to uphold the Charter even when doing so is inconvenient to powerful member states.
Too often, the selection process produces a candidate who is acceptable to everyone precisely because they are unlikely to seriously challenge anyone. This may be politically expedient, but it is strategically short-sighted. An overly cautious Secretary-General may preserve short-term diplomatic comfort while presiding over long-term institutional decline.
The United Nations does not need a figure who simply reflects the balance of power within the Security Council; it needs a figure who reflects the principles of the Charter.
The next Secretary-General must be bold enough to articulate a clear vision for what the United Nations is for in the twenty-first century. That vision must be rooted in the organization’s founding objectives: preventing conflict, strengthening respect for international law, protecting human rights and promoting conditions under which peace is possible. These goals require not only administrative competence, but political courage and moral clarity.
Equally important, the next Secretary-General must be strong enough to maintain independence from the influence of any single member state or group of states. The United Nations does not exist to legitimize the actions of the powerful; it exists to ensure that power operates within rules.
The Secretary-General cannot fulfill this role if the office is perceived as operating at the beck and call of a few influential capitals. Independence is not a luxury in this role; it is the source of its authority.
With independence must come integrity. The United Nations possesses little in the way of traditional power: it does not command armies, it does not control vast financial resources and it cannot compel states to act. Its greatest asset is legitimacy — the belief that it stands for something larger than the interests of individual nations.
That legitimacy depends heavily on the personal credibility of the Secretary-General. Ethical leadership, transparency, accountability and consistency must once again become the defining characteristics of the office.
In this regard, the world would do well to remember Dag Hammarskjöld, who understood that the Secretary-General was not merely a secretary to governments, but a servant of the Charter and, ultimately, of the peoples of the world. He demonstrated that quiet diplomacy and moral courage are not opposites; they are partners.
He showed that the authority of the Secretary-General does not come from military or economic power, but from independence, integrity and a willingness to act when action is required.
Much attention is often given to the identity of the next Secretary-General — nationality, region, and increasingly gender. These questions are politically understandable, but they are not the most important questions. The defining question is not where the Secretary-General comes from, but what the Secretary-General stands for.
The United Nations is often described as an organization of states. But states exist to serve people, not the other way around. If that principle is true at the national level, it must also be true at the international level. The United Nations, therefore, does not ultimately belong to governments. It belongs to the peoples in whose name its Charter was written. Member states do not own the United Nations; they are trustees of it. And trustees are not meant to serve themselves, but those on whose behalf they hold responsibility.
This understanding should guide the selection of the next Secretary-General. The position requires someone who understands that the office is not merely administrative, but custodial — custodial of the Charter, of international law and of the trust that the world’s peoples place, however imperfectly, in the United Nations.
The selection process itself, however, raises a final and somewhat uncomfortable question. The Secretary-General is often described as the world’s top diplomat, and yet the world’s people have no direct voice in choosing this person.
The decision rests, as everyone knows, with a small number of states possessing veto power. This may be politically realistic, but it is increasingly difficult to explain to a global public that is more educated, more connected and more aware than at any time in history.
Perhaps, then, one day the world might experiment with something new — global consultations, or even worldwide elections — allowing the peoples of the world to express their preference for who should occupy this uniquely global office.
It is a slightly amusing idea, perhaps even an unrealistic one for now, but it contains a serious point: if the United Nations truly begins with “We the Peoples,” then their voice should be heard more clearly in choosing its leader.
Until that day comes, the responsibility rests with member states. They must choose not the safest candidate, not the most convenient candidate and not the candidate least likely to upset powerful governments. They must choose the candidate most likely to uphold the Charter, speak with independence, act with courage and restore integrity to the office.
The world does not need a careful manager.
The world needs a courageous Secretary-General.
Naïma Abdellaoui, UNOG – UNison Staff Representative, International Civil Servant since 2004.
IPS UN Bureau
KABUL, Mar 30 2026 (IPS) - It is almost unheard of for a student to deliberately fail final school exams for no apparent reason. Therefore, when 13-year old Sara (not her real name) from Mazar-i-Sharif in Afghanistan took her school report home to her parents, they were shocked to learn that the top-performing student had failed her final exams and would not advance to the next level. But there was no longer a next level for Sara, even if she had passed.
The Afghan calendar changes in March 2026. The year 1405 begins, and with it a new school year across the country.
For the fifth year running, girls have only been allowed to attend school up to sixth grade. After sixth grade, boys continue their studies, but girls aged 12–13 are no longer allowed to pursue further education or attend university.
As the new school year approaches, girls who have passed the sixth grade know they will not be allowed to return to the classroom. All that remains are memories of years spent at the desks and the friendships they made during their school years. For many, the end of school also marks the shipwreck of their dreams for the future.
However, some have found a pathway that is both bitter and hopeful. They leave their answer sheets blank to deliberately fail their final year exams, just to stay one more year albeit in the same class. It is the only chance to stay in a place where they can study and dream about the future.
“My sister says I’m lucky to still be in school, but I don’t feel happy. This is just a delaying battle. When this year ends, will I have to stay home and become a seamstress?”
Sara is one of those who have chosen to fail her final exams. She deliberately answered the exam questions incorrectly so that she would fail and be allowed to stay in school for another year.
Restricting girls’ education was one of the Taliban’s first orders in August 2021. In late 2022, the Taliban announced that universities would also be closed to girls and women “for the time being.” It was unclear how long the suspension would last.
Nearly four years later, “for the time being” is still in effect, and young women are still not allowed to study. They live in uncertainty and do not know what the future holds.
Sara lives in a middle-income family with her parents and five siblings. She is the fourth child.
Sara’s father works intermittently in construction, employed for a few months a year and unemployed the rest of the time. Sara’s mother is a seamstress, sewing clothes for the women in the area and contributing to the family income.
Sara’s parents have done everything they can to ensure that their children go to school. Her mother, who has never been to school herself, says:
“Sara’s father and I are both illiterate, and our greatest wish is for our children to receive an education. I work day and night as a seamstress so that my children have a better future and do not end up in the same hopeless situation as their father and me. My daughters in particular need to study, succeed, and be independent. But my eldest daughter has sadly been out of school for two years. She now works with me as a seamstress. I hope that my other two daughters and three sons will be able to complete school.”
Sara started school six years ago with enthusiasm and hope. She wipes her eyes with the edge of her scarf as she recounts her school journey with her older sister, Marwa.
“Every morning we woke up early. I carefully braided my hair, packed my books in my bag and walked to school with Marwa. It was less than half an hour to school. Classes started at eight. We used to spend four hours at school and walked back home together when school ended at noon”.
“Marwa and I talked on the way to school about how we would become doctors. But after sixth grade, my sister couldn’t go back to school. For the last two years, she has been helping our mother as a seamstress, and I don’t want that life. I want to be a doctor. That’s why I decided that I couldn’t stop schooling.”
Sara decided to rewrite her destiny, even if it was just for one year.
“To be honest, I had always tried to be the best in my class”, she continues. “So the decision to deliberately fail was incredibly difficult. But it was the only way I could stay in school. When I got my certificate after the exams and saw that I had failed some subjects, I felt both joy and sadness. I had failed, but I didn’t feel defeated. I get to study for one more year. I can still wear my black dress and white scarf and go to school”, she says.
Sara’s family was shocked when they learned she had failed her final exams. Her father stared at the report card repeatedly, as if searching for a mistake. Her mother could not believe it, as her daughter had always ranked at or near the top of her class.
“There was a silence at home that was heavier than any reprimand. I knew I had to tell them what I had done,” Sara recounts.
She pauses, then continues: “I told my parents that my failure was not an accident and that I had intentionally left some questions unanswered or answered them incorrectly. My father was completely shocked. He could not believe I had done it on purpose. He was very and asked me why I wanted to fail.”
His anger subsided when Sara explained her reason: she wanted to go to university like her brother.
Wiping tears with her scarf once more, Sara says she feels sorry for her parents, who worked hard in order for them to live comfortably, go to school, and have a future.
“I don’t know if my decision was right or wrong. My family eventually accepted that I would go back to school, but I feel like I disappointed them anyway.”
When school starts this year, Sara will return to the sixth grade. She will carry the same books and return to a classroom where her former classmates are no longer there.
“My sister says I’m lucky to still be in school, but I don’t feel happy. This is just a delaying battle. When this year ends, will I have to stay home and become a seamstress?”
This question concerns not only Sara, but millions of Afghan girls who have been denied the right to go to school and who ask every day: when will we learn again?
Denying girls an education is not merely an educational policy. It excludes half of the country’s population from public life and deprives them of the opportunity to build their own future and that of their nation.
The consequences are far-reaching, both socially and economically. Before long, women will no longer be working in the fields of medicine, education and social services. The impact is severe, as the absence of female professionals directly affects the health and well-being of millions.
Excerpt:
The author is an Afghanistan-based female journalist, trained with Finnish support before the Taliban take-over. Her identity is withheld for security reasons
BRATISLAVA, Mar 30 2026 (IPS) - Government and medical professionals must implement systematic changes to deal with a “crisis” of obstetric violence (OV) across Eastern Europe and Central Asia (EECA), experts and rights campaigners have said.
The call comes as the United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA) released a report on March 12 detailing how women were suffering widescale mistreatment during childbirth across the region.
“This report is a wake-up call. All stakeholders must make sure that women’s rights are respected and protected in all facilities in the health system and beyond,” Tamar Khomasuridze, UNFPA Sexual and Reproductive Health Adviser for Eastern Europe and Central Asia, told Inter Press Service (IPS).
The report, Respectful Maternity Care: Women’s Experiences and Outlooks in Eastern Europe and Central Asia, highlighted what the UNFPA said was a “pervasive yet often hidden OV crisis that violates women’s fundamental human rights and dignity”.
The survey, which was based on online responses from over 2,600 women who gave birth recently and conducted across 16 countries and territories in the region, found that 67 percent of respondents reported at least one form of mistreatment, including non-consensual medical procedures, verbal and physical abuse, and significant breaches of privacy.
Nearly half (48.1 percent) of women underwent obstetric procedures – such as episiotomies, Caesarean sections, or the administration of oxytocin – without their informed consent.
Meanwhile, about 24 percent of surveyed women reported experiencing verbal abuse, including yelling and humiliation, and 1 in 10 endured physical or sexual abuse during labour or gynaecological examinations. For example, 12 percent of the surveyed women reported being physically restrained during labour, such as being tied to the bed or subjected to aggressive physical contact under the pretext of facilitating delivery. Just over 10 percent experienced different forms of sexual abuse, ranging from inappropriate touching to more severe forms of assault (disrespectful manipulation of the genitals).
The survey also revealed a massive lack of awareness of OV among women in the region – almost 54 percent of surveyed women said women were unfamiliar with the term “obstetric violence”. And of those that knew they were victims of OV, very few reported such incidents – only two percent of those mistreated officially reported their experience, often due to a lack of trust in accountability mechanisms or fear of retaliation.
Previous research into the extent of OV in the region is limited and experts say it is difficult to gauge whether the situation in the region has changed in recent years.
But campaigners say the report underlines that it remains a serious problem.
“Obstetric violence has always existed, but for a long time it remained invisible, normalised, and embedded within what was perceived as ‘standard medical practice’. The major shift over the past decade is not necessarily in the prevalence of the phenomenon but rather in its increased visibility at the public, legal, and institutional levels, including its inclusion on the global agenda of human rights and public health,” Alina Andronache, a gender public policy expert at the Partnership for Development Center (CPD) in Moldova, who helped author the UNFPA report, told IPS.
“The report outlines a mixed picture: recognition and visibility of the phenomenon are increasing, yet the prevalence of experiences of abuse, coercion, and lack of consent remains alarmingly high,” she added.
Rights activists say that the phenomenon is closely linked to the wider issue of prevalent attitudes to women in the region.
“The report clearly shows that obstetric violence is not merely an issue of inadequate medical practices but is deeply embedded in broader social and cultural structures—particularly gender discrimination, power imbalances between the patient and medical staff, rigid institutional hierarchies, and norms that socialise women to accept authority without questioning it, including in highly intimate and vulnerable contexts such as childbirth,” said Andronache.
She highlighted the report’s finding that 58.4 percent of respondents believe that a mother must accept any intervention for the benefit of the child, even if it may harm her, while 19.6 percent consider that doctors may take a decision without a woman’s consent to protect the child.
“These perceptions reflect a profound internalisation of the idea that women’s bodily autonomy can be suspended during childbirth in favour of a medical authority perceived as unquestionable. This internalisation has two major consequences: it legitimises abusive or coercive practices, which are no longer perceived as violations of rights but as ‘necessary’ or ‘medically justified’ interventions, and it directly contributes to underreporting and to the difficulty of recognising obstetric violence as such. If women are socialised to believe that they do not have the right to refuse, to ask questions, or to negotiate interventions, then their experiences are not necessarily identified as abuse but rather as a ‘normal’ part of childbirth,” she explained.
The report includes a call to action that outlines critical steps to address systemic problems with OV in the EECA states. These include legislation to protect women against OV; human rights-centred training for all healthcare personnel to shift clinical attitudes and ensure dignity is maintained at the point of service, as well as implementing monitoring and other measures to ensure accountability; and strengthening education and wider awareness of OV.
The UNFPA says its call to action has been endorsed by all countries in the survey and other stakeholders and will become part of action plans on OV at the national level.
But it is unclear how easy it will be to effect meaningful change, especially in a region where some countries have very conservative social cultures and wider problems with women’s rights.
The report showed that among respondents from Central Asian countries, such as Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan, around two thirds of women were unaware of OV. The report says this is due, in part, to traditional norms surrounding women’s roles and childbirth, which may make women less open to discussions about obstetric abuse.
Khomasuridze admitted that there were “of course sensitivities in different countries” in the region but was confident that with the help of various stakeholders, including civil society organisations, women’s rights groups and patient groups, changes would be implemented.
Andronache said that in countries where strongly conservative political policies and societal attitudes are prevalent, it was crucial that “the message be adapted to the context”.
“In more conservative societies, the approach should not be perceived as confrontational or ideological but rather framed as an issue of safety, dignity, and quality of care for both mother and child. Emphasising health, respect, and communication may be more readily accepted than a discourse focused exclusively on rights,” she said.
She added that it was essential that women be made aware of OV during their engagement with healthcare professionals – prenatal courses should be accessible and include, alongside medical information, clear explanations about women’s rights, informed consent, and what respectful care entails. ‘Meanwhile, information must reach those who need it most, she said — particularly in rural areas and in communities with more limited access to education.
“This requires simple messages, delivered in accessible languages and through channels that women already trust, including healthcare providers, community leaders, or other women sharing their experiences,” Andronache said.
“Awareness is built not only through the dissemination of information, but also through the creation of a space in which women feel able to ask questions, understand what is happening to them, and recognise when their rights are not being respected,” she added.
However, even in places where there is more awareness, serious problems with OV remain.
The study found that awareness of OV is higher in Eastern European countries, in part because advocacy initiatives regarding women’s rights during childbirth have contributed to increased visibility of the issue. Yet OV is widespread in some of these states.
In the survey the highest dissatisfaction rates with their childbirth experience were recorded among respondents from the Western Balkans (Albania, Serbia and Kosovo).
In 2022, a study by lawyers in Serbia found that women in the country are regularly subjected to various forms of violence at maternity clinics and hospitals, including not just verbal abuse and humiliation at the hands of staff, but violent physical examinations and invasive procedures without consent.
In January 2024, Marica Mihajlovic, a Roma woman, claimed that during labour her doctor jumped on her stomach, slapped her and racially abused her. Her baby died soon after birth.
A 2023 report on OV in Moldova included testimony from scores of OV victims, some of whom were left with serious physical and mental health issues afterwards.
As well as having to deal with the physical and mental damage of their experiences, victims of OV in the region also often face significant barriers to any redress for their suffering.
“Women who are aware of obstetric violence and would like to take action encounter, in reality, a form of distance—not only physical, but also emotional and institutional. In theory, reporting mechanisms should be ‘within reach’: easy to understand, accessible, and safe. In practice, in many countries this distance is far too great,” explained Andronache.
She said many women who want to report OV struggle with difficult and bureaucratic systems for doing so. Many are also put off by feelings that reporting what happened to them will not change anything or, worse, “that they would be placed in a position of having to prove their suffering, of being questioned, or even invalidated”.
“In the absence of clear and credible accountability mechanisms, reporting is not perceived as a solution, but as a long, uncertain, and emotionally draining process,” Andronache said.
Some also find that after a difficult or traumatic experience, they simply do not have the emotional resources to engage in a formal process. “They seek calm, recovery, and the ability to care for their child. The question ‘is it worth going through this?’ becomes very real,” said Andronache.
While the report identifies the scale of the OV crisis in the region and changes needed to reverse, or at least lessen it, fundamental improvement is not expected to come overnight, regardless of how enthusiastically governments embrace the UNFPA’s recommendations.
“Some changes can be implemented relatively quickly—for example, establishing clear and accessible reporting mechanisms, informing women, introducing more transparent procedures, or providing basic training for medical staff. These depend largely on political will and organisational capacity and can be achieved within a relatively short timeframe.
“However, the more difficult aspect is the transformation of mindsets—both within the medical system and in society at large. A deeper transformation to a system in which women feel safe to speak out and which responds with accountability and respect is a long-term process that may take a decade or more. At its core, this is a cultural shift, not merely a regulatory one,” said Andronache.
Khomasuridze agreed.
“We and our partners have a long way to go. Progress depends on action at the national level and we are very well positioned in [EECA] countries to accelerate progress, working with government, professional societies, civil societies, women’s groups, and patients’ groups to make sure that this transformative agenda is implemented,” she said.
IPS UN Bureau Report
MONTEVIDEO, Uruguay / BRUSSELS, Belgium, Mar 30 2026 (IPS) - On 19 March, the Commission on the Status of Women (CSW) did something unprecedented in its eight-decade history: it held a vote. The Trump administration, having spent two weeks attempting to defer, amend and ultimately block the session’s main outcome document, known as the agreed conclusions, cast the only vote against its adoption. That dissenting vote said a lot, as it came from the world’s most powerful government, backed by financial leverage, bilateral reach and a network of anti-rights states and organisations that are making inroads at many levels.
Established in 1946, the CSW brings together 45 states each year to negotiate commitments that, while not legally binding, shape domestic legislation, set international norms and signal the direction of political will. Civil society plays an important role in it: the NGO Committee on the Status of Women coordinates thousands of organisations, from large international bodies to grassroots groups, with the aim of ensuring those most affected by policy have a seat at the table. For several decades, this has been the closest thing the world has to a dedicated annual intergovernmental negotiation on women’s rights.
The assault on gender equality
The Trump administration arrived at CSW70 having withdrawn from UN Women in January and from its Executive Board in February, citing opposition to what it calls ‘gender ideology’. It submitted eight amendments targeting language on reproductive health. When these didn’t succeed, it attempted to defer or withdraw the conclusions entirely. When that too failed, it voted against adoption and tabled a separate resolution seeking to impose a restrictive definition of gender, effectively attempting to rewrite 30 years of carefully negotiated commitments. Its resolution was blocked.
At the Munich Security Conference in February, US Secretary of State Marco Rubio defined western civilisation as bound together by Christian faith, shared ancestry and cultural heritage, an ideological approach that treats women’s equality, reproductive rights and LGBTQI+ rights not as human rights but ideological impositions to be rejected. The Trump administration’s financial muscle is now the delivery mechanism for this worldview.
Defunding as a weapon
The immediate material crisis at CSW70 was the collapse of funding. The elimination of 90 per cent of USAID contracts wiped out US$60 billion in foreign aid. The USA is instead negotiating bilateral deals with 71 countries under its ‘America First’ global health strategy, extending its global gag rule not just to civil society organisations but to recipient governments. This means any institution that receives US health funding must certify that neither it nor any organisation it works with promotes or provides abortion.
Funding will now flow through faith-based groups, with ultra-conservative Christian organisations such as the Alliance Defending Freedom and Family Watch International set to benefit, having spent years building networks across Africa, Asia and Latin America. They use the language of family values, parental rights and national sovereignty to consolidate conservative influence over laws affecting women, LGBTQI+ people and young people. In many countries, they already have direct access to governments while progressive organisations are routinely excluded.
With threats intensifying, the UN is signalling retreat. A proposal under the UN80 cost-cutting initiative to merge UN Women with the UN Population Fund (UNFPA) has alarmed civil society worldwide. The stated rationale is efficiency, but there’s little overlap between the two agencies and their combined budgets make up a small part of the UN’s overall spending, suggesting savings would be modest. It’s hard to escape the conclusion that the targeting of these organisations reflects the increasing contestation of their rights-based mandates rather than any logic of organisational efficiency.
Over 500 civil society organisations signed an open letter to UN Secretary-General António Guterres warning that, when sexual and reproductive health rights are absorbed into broader mandates, they risk ‘being deprioritised, underfunded, or rendered politically invisible’. Some states have urged caution but so far none has committed to blocking the merger.
Civil society holds the line
In difficult times, over 4,600 civil society delegates attended CSW70 and made their presence count. They took the floor to name structural barriers and demand accountability: youth representatives challenged the normalisation of online violence, Pacific Island delegates described how geography compounds the denial of justice for survivors, and activists from Haiti documented the labour exploitation of migrant domestic workers. They all emphasised that when women’s rights organisations are restricted or defunded, survivors lose their primary pathway to justice.
The NGO CSW Forum hosted over 750 events alongside the official session. But not everyone could participate. US visa restrictions meant several women’s rights activists, particularly from the global south, couldn’t enter the country. This is a worsening problem that limits civil society’s ability to engage.
CIVICUS’s newly released 2026 State of Civil Society Report documents exactly what civil society has been up against: institutions built to protect women’s rights under sustained, coordinated attack, their funding cut, their mandates targeted and the human rights values they are built on reopened for revision. CSW70’s agreed conclusions offer hope, committing states to action on AI governance, discriminatory laws, digital justice, labour rights, legal aid and the formal recognition of care workers. But as the contest over them made plain, political will is running low and the anti-rights community is emboldened. Civil society left CSW70 without losing ground – and this seems to be the measure of success in the regressive times we live in.
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.
Samuel King is a researcher with the Horizon Europe-funded research project ENSURED: Shaping Cooperation for a World in Transition at CIVICUS: World Alliance for Citizen Participation.
For interviews or more information, please contact research@civicus.org