The Human Consciousness Now...Our World in the Midst of Becoming...to What? Observe, contemplate Now.
MONTEVIDEO, Uruguay, Sep 2 2025 (IPS) - In late June, thousands flooded the streets of Lomé, Togo’s capital, presenting the ruling dynasty with its biggest challenge in decades.
The catalyst was constitutional manoeuvring by President Faure Gnassingbé to maintain his grip on power. In March 2024, his government pushed through constitutional amendments that transformed Togo from a presidential to a parliamentary system. This created a new position, the President of the Council of Ministers – effectively Togo’s chief executive – elected by parliament rather than by popular vote, and with no term limits. Gnassingbé assumed this new role in May, making it abundantly clear the changes were only about keeping him in power indefinitely.
This constitutional manoeuvre was the latest episode in a 58-year family saga that began when Faure’s father, Gnassingbé Eyadéma, seized power in a 1967 coup. For 25 years, the elder Gnassingbé ruled over a one-party state, staging ritual elections that reached absurd heights in 1986 when he claimed re-election with close to 100 per cent of votes on an implausible 99 per cent turnout. Even after nominal multiparty democracy arrived in 1992, elections remained charades with predetermined outcomes, as opposition parties faced systematic obstacles that made fair competition impossible.
When Eyadéma died in 2005, the military simply appointed his son Faure as successor, despite the constitution mandating immediate elections. International pressure forced a hastily organised vote, but this followed the familiar script of violence, fraud and repression. The pattern repeated in 2010, 2015 and 2020, with each election offering a veneer of legitimacy for continued authoritarian rule – and eliciting successive waves of protest that were either violently repressed or pre-emptively suppressed.
Now, two decades after Faure took power, this latest constitutional gambit has triggered the most significant challenge to his rule. The constitutional changes designed to keep him in power have instead galvanised opposition, creating a focal point for decades of accumulated grievances.
The current protests differ from their predecessors by being overwhelmingly led by young people who’ve never known any other leaders than the Gnassingbés. Raised on promises of multiparty democracy, they’ve witnessed systematic electoral fraud to perpetuate a government wholly unresponsive to their needs. They connect their daily struggles with unemployment, power outages and crumbling infrastructure with the long-term denial of their democratic freedoms.
The arrest in May of a popular rapper and TikToker, Aamron – for posting a video calling for street protests to coincide with Gnassingbé’s birthday on 6 June – galvanised discontent, turning simmering frustration into organised resistance. Aamron’s detention sparked the formation of the 6 June Movement (M66), led by young artists, bloggers, diaspora-based activists and civil society figures who rely heavily on social media to coordinate protests, bypassing state-controlled channels.
The government’s response, however, has followed a familiar path of authoritarian crackdown. In late June, security forces killed at least seven people, including 15-year-old Jacques Koami Koutoglo, and they’ve also used teargas, beatings and mass arrests against protesters. The regime has detained journalists, forced deletion of protest footage and imposed internet shutdowns during protests. It has suspended international media outlets including France 24 and RFI for their protest coverage. it has even issued international arrest warrants for M66 leaders based abroad, accusing them of terrorism and subversion.
Protests have continued despite repression. The leadership of young people, less intimidated by the security apparatus and better connected through social media, has allowed for the diversification of opposition tactics, with activists shifting between street protests, legal challenges and international advocacy as circumstances dictate. The diaspora is also playing a role, with Togolese communities abroad organising solidarity protests and advocating with international organisations for sanctions against the Gnassingbé regime.
Significant obstacles however remain. Gnassingbé controls all levers of power, including security forces, the electoral commission and the Constitutional Court. For a democratic transition to result, international pressure would need to intensify, including the imposition of targeted sanctions on regime officials and their economic interests. Regional bodies, particularly the Economic Community of West African States, would need to act, including by threatening to suspend Togo until democratic reforms are implemented.
Whether these protests trigger democratic change or become yet another chapter in the history of repressed dissent will ultimately depend on the ability of pro-democracy forces to sustain pressure and whether the international community finally decides to act. Gnassingbé’s constitutional manoeuvre may prove to be his final act, not because it succeeded in keeping him in power, but because it awakened a new generation. Togo’s young people have discovered the power of collective action—and that could prove decisive.
Inés M. Pousadela is CIVICUS Senior Research Specialist, 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
TORONTO, Sep 2 2025 (IPS) - If European colonialism had never happened in Canada, matriarchy would still have been strong in Indigenous culture. Matriarchy was the backbone of society’s structure and line of dominance in Turtle Island (North America) before the arrival of Westerners.
In practice, Indigenous women in Canada have been victims of violence and discrimination. In theory, they were supposed, along with children, to enjoy full protection, as the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) states in article 22.
“Traditional knowledge would be whole and complete. Our languages, ceremonies, governance systems, planet health, communities, cosmologies, land practices, water preservation, and harvesting practices would be alive and well,” says Anishinaabe Ancestral Knowledge Keeper Kim Wheatley, “Head/Leader of the Fireflower,” the Spirit name she carries.
The female role and influence in traditional Native American culture were powerful and pivotal. Wheatley cites how women’s main duty, “like all community members, was to live in harmony with creation, a life of committed purpose and passion based on the gifts they arrived with from the spirit world. Women were hunters, foragers, medicine folks, healers, educators, leaders, artists, fishers, ceremonialists, singers, dancers, artists, and governance holders—really the societal glue on how to provide for the greater good. They were the ones who made the big long-term decisions for the communities they were responsible for.”
Anishinaabe Ancestral Knowledge Keeper Kim Wheatley.
The story of Indigenous women in Canada is considerably incompatible with what Disney World tried to twist and distort in its popular animation “Pocahontas.” Chrystal Tabobandung, Founder of RAISE Indigenous cultural awareness and competence training with Ojibwe roots, sees the “hatred of white women towards us, as if we were less. We have been kicked out of our homes. We are suffering today and being sexualized by men and social media. Historically, white women envied us because of the roles we held in our communities and our traditional ways.”
This is where the impact of colonialism has come in, right from earlier contact, and changed over time. Women in Europe were not to be seen, not to be heard. They were in the background, and they were very resentful at the fact that, here, Indigenous women had a voice, a seat at the table to make decisions regarding safety, child rearing, politics, and even where to camp.”
Socio-Economic Inequality
The effect of the forced Western social and business model has shattered too many Indigenous communities, and the shift to a Western male-dominant lifestyle has altered the whole picture.
Wheatley believes that over the last 150 years, “The foundation of species became a risk. The destruction of lands and waters through endless resource extraction, racism, misogyny, the vulgarity of political decision-making on women’s bodies, the ever-rising violence against women and girls, and the list goes on and on. We see a dramatic disparity in the socio-economic realities. Our People have vast, complex political systems, governance structures, balanced leadership models, extraordinary, vibrant trade practices, endless creativity, and intimate relationships to lands and waters. Deep moral teachings that contribute to the greater good based on long-standing visioning practices.”
While women can and do run for leadership roles, the colonial system does not support traditional governance and practices. The Indian Act is still law in Canada and is one of the recognized leading racist legal documents in the world. This Act oversees how and what a First Nation community can do within reserve confines and what happens when you leave.”
Chrystal Tabobandung, Founder of RAISE Indigenous cultural awareness.
The differences among Indigenous women vary according to their distinct nations. In Canada, there are over 630 recognized First Nations communities.
“Our nations’ women do things differently based on nation-to-nation teachings that are tied to tradition and culture as opposed to roles,” explains Tabobandung. “There are so many divergent oppressive systems that disconnect them.
They do not necessarily work together, but regarding huge social issues, like murdered and missing Indigenous women and sex trafficking, they do come together. They are active in marches and rallies. They stand up against injustices and reconnect with their tradition and their culture. The more voices that are coming out, the more people feel courageous, strong, and able to come forth with their personal experiences.”
How does lack of access to safe drinking water affect Indigenous women? According to Wheatley, “The water crisis in First Nations communities is under-recognized as a continuous assault on a basic human right. Women who live off-reserve have greater opportunities for employment, housing, and other socio-economic possibilities that simply are not available on many reserves for a wide variety of reasons. Educational facilities are far more accessible, along with social services that are integral to supporting families.”
“The proximity of travel to/from work, social gatherings, support spaces, cultural activities, educational options, and greater social interactions are much more accessible in urban areas,” continues Wheatley. “This contributes to a greater sense of well-being. In small towns, racism may not support greater opportunities, but in cities with larger populations, the odds increase in a woman’s favor.”
Reconciliation and Preserving People’s Culture
In her opinion, Wheatley sees that the Truth and Reconciliation Report was a gift to Canadians, challenging their comfort in historic amnesia and continued ignorance of cultural genocide committed by the highest leadership in this country.
“Anytime we have a voice from ‘our people’ to say how we need to look at restitution and restoration of our sovereignty, it is the right path. We do not need to be told how to heal… We need to tell the country how to support our healing. This is what the report does beautifully. It is as comprehensive as the country can digest at this time and yet… few of the ‘calls to action’ have been addressed meaningfully to date.”
Ten years have passed, yet not much has changed, Wheatley adds.
“This country has continuously operated under the fallacy of the Doctrine of Discovery and theft of land that was never theirs to take.”
The Western Eurocentric perspective has been imposed even on terminology and on what an Indigenous person uses. Tabobandung says, “Only in the past couple of generations have we empowered our children to have voices and ask questions. I grew up in a smaller town where colonialism impacted us, but we were still able to carry down our teachings and our stories. People who have been removed from their culture or have become disconnected in any way wouldn’t know these teachings.”
In British Columbia, Indigenous people are knowledgeable about their culture.
“They really project the importance of their Indigenous women,” says Wheatley. “If there is any movement for any Indigenous or Aboriginal rights to change in the court system, it will take place in precedence in British Columbia and will set that precedent for all other nations across Canada.”
Is There a Way Out?
Wheatley believes the solution between the government and Indigenous people has not been prioritized. “
Hence, Third World conditions exist as a norm in many [Indigenous] communities. To reconcile the crimes of the past in Canada, the perpetrators need to take responsibility, but that continues to be a threat to colonial intrusion and imposition on lands that are rightfully ours!”
Everyone takes Reconciliation differently.
Tabobandung heard different voices; some people are more extreme than others. On the ground, the fait accompli is that Indigenous people, Westerners, and other immigrants are practically sharing their lives on Turtle Island.
Tabobandung finds herself in the middle
“You have this Western business, social, and political model, and your model. How would you balance this? Many First Nations people have had this difficulty, especially those who come from Northern rural, remote communities. You have to know who you are and have deep roots. It is really hard to make that transition, especially in the Western Eurocentric system, where they want to get rid of us; they want to integrate us into the Westernized society so that we don’t exist anymore. Some get to a point where they find peace and balance.”
“I am Anishinaabe. I am Ojibwe. I refuse to acknowledge myself as Indigenous, First Nation, or Aboriginal,” says Tabobandung. “Our people are older than the terminologies the federal government imposed upon us. I walk softly and gently upon the earth. Culture has saved me, knowing that I am First Peoples to this land, in this territory, and knowing that a system is trying to annihilate my people, and knowing that I am still here thriving and surviving.”
This is what motivates her.
“It is why I walk with my head held high. It is why I educate myself as much as I can on anything. I paint indigenous paintings and do indigenous art to pass that knowledge down.”
IPS UN Bureau Report
VIENNA, Austria, Sep 2 2025 (IPS) - The governance of nature and biodiversity has evolved from early 20th-century treaties on hunting and migratory species to today’s complex web of multilateral environmental agreements.
Initial efforts, such as the 1902 Convention for the Protection of Birds useful to Agriculture, reflected utilitarian concerns, but by the 1970s global awareness of extinction and habitat loss led to more systemic instruments, including the Ramsar Convention on Wetlands (1971) and Washington Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (1973).
The 1992 Rio Earth Summit marked a turning point with the Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD), the first treaty to address biodiversity at genetic, species, and ecosystem levels, supported by the Global Environment Facility as a financial mechanism.
Since then, biodiversity governance has expanded through additional conventions, protocols and scientific platforms such as the Intergovernmental Science-Policy Platform on Biodiversity and Ecosystem Services (IPBES) but has also become increasingly fragmented.
Global biodiversity loss continues at alarming rates, despite this dense architecture of internationally agreed rules and institutions. Biodiversity related Multilateral Environmental Agreements (MEAs) span terrestrial, freshwater, and marine realms; regulate access to genetic resources and trade in species; set site based protections; and address drivers of land degradation and desertification. Yet, implementation remains hampered by institutional fragmentation, duplicative reporting burdens, and misaligned financial flows.
Against this backdrop, the Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework (KMGBF) provides a shared vision for 2030 and 2050. Converting that vision into action requires not merely more resources, but better coordination—within and across MEAs, and between MEAs and broader sustainable development processes.
This article (i) maps the mandates and legal obligations of the principal biodiversity related MEAs, (ii) analyzes governance fragmentation and financial constraints, (iii) explores political dynamics among key actors, and (iv) proposes realistic, equity centred pathways for strategic coherence, with comparisons to the more integrated chemicals and waste cluster.
1. Mandates, Legal Functions, and Obligations of Key Biodiversity Related MEAs
1.1 Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD) and Protocols
The CBD’s tripartite objective—conservation, sustainable use, and fair and equitable sharing of benefits arising from genetic resources—is codified in Article 1. Parties are obligated to prepare and implement National Biodiversity Strategies and Action Plans (NBSAPs) and to report at regular intervals.
The Cartagena Protocol on Biosafety establishes precautionary and risk assessment procedures for the transboundary movement of Living Modified Organisms (LMOs), while the Nagoya Protocol on Access to Genetic Resources and the Fair and Equitable Sharing of Benefits Arising from their Utilization operationalizes Access and Benefit-Sharing (ABS) by requiring national frameworks for access permits, benefit sharing, and compliance measures. The KMGBF provides a global goal and target structure to guide CBD implementation.
1.2 Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora (CITES)
CITES regulates international trade through a system of appendices and permits, supported by compliance review and trade related measures. Its focus is targeted—ensuring that trade does not threaten species’ survival—complementing broader conservation duties under CBD. CITES’ decisions and periodic reviews create quasi regulatory effects at national borders, with enforcement typically delegated to customs and wildlife authorities.
1.3 Convention on the Conservation of Migratory Species of Wild Animals (CMS)
CMS requires range states to cooperate to conserve migratory species and their habitats, often via MoUs and specialized regional agreements. Its ‘umbrella’ function has catalyzed multiple instruments and action plans across taxa and flyways.
1.4 Ramsar Convention on Wetlands
Ramsar obliges Parties to designate wetlands of international importance and to promote their ‘wise use.’ Its compliance approach is facilitative and cooperative—anchored in site listing, monitoring, and the Montreux Record—rather than punitive measures.
1.5 World Heritage Convention (WHC)
The WHC, administered by UNESCO, integrates natural and cultural heritage through site nomination, protection, and monitoring. While enforcement is largely reputational (e.g., inscription on the List of World Heritage in Danger), the Convention has proven influential in safeguarding globally significant ecosystems and landscapes.
1.6 International Treaty on Plant Genetic Resources for Food and Agriculture (ITPGRFA)
ITPGRFA establishes a Multilateral System of Access and Benefit-Sharing (MLS) for a defined list of crops and forages essential to food security. The proceeds from that system finances on the ground projects that sustain agrobiodiversity and farmer resilience. The Treaty complements CBD/Nagoya by providing sector specific ABS tailored to plant genetic resources for food and agriculture.
1.7 United Nations Convention to Combat Desertification (UNCCD)
UNCCD aims to combat desertification and mitigate drought effects through national action programmes and regional cooperation. Its land use orientation connects directly to biodiversity and climate agendas, particularly on ecosystem restoration, drought resilience, and sustainable land management.
1.8 Agreement under UNCLOS on Biodiversity Beyond National Jurisdiction (BBNJ)
The most recent addition to the MEA system for nature and biodiversity, the BBNJ Agreement, which has yet to enter into force, addresses conservation and sustainable use of marine biodiversity in areas beyond national jurisdiction—roughly two thirds of the ocean. Its four pillars encompass marine genetic resources (including benefit sharing), area based management tools (including marine protected areas), environmental impact assessments, and capacity building/technology transfer. It complements the CBD, whose scope is limited to areas under national jurisdiction.
The Agreement foresees a COP, subsidiary scientific/technical bodies, a secretariat, and compliance arrangements; it also provides for benefit sharing modalities and a voluntary trust fund to support participation and early implementation.
2. Governance Fragmentation and Institutional Complexity
Biodiversity governance is institutionally dispersed across UNEP (CBD, CITES, CMS), FAO (ITPGRFA), UNESCO (WHC), independent or IUCN hosted secretariats (Ramsar), directly under UNGA ( UNCCD) and the UNCLOS system (BBNJ). This dispersion yields divergent rules, reporting schedules, compliance approaches, and scientific interfaces.
By contrast, the chemicals and waste cluster, where there is a uniform link to UNEP as a hosting institution, has progressively institutionalized synergies (shared services, coordinated COPs), producing clearer lines of authority and operational economies of scale.
2.1 UNEP and the Environment Management Group (EMG)
UNEP provides a convening platform and hosts several biodiversity secretariats; through the EMG it seeks to promote UN system wide coherence. However, neither UNEP nor EMG has binding authority over treaty bodies. Their effectiveness hinges on political buy in, voluntary coordination, and financing. Past reviews have cautioned against proliferating stand alone secretariats and have encouraged shared services and clustering where mandates allow.
2.2 Science–Policy Interfaces
IPBES has strengthened the knowledge base for biodiversity policy, but linkages to individual MEAs vary. Unlike the chemicals and waste cluster—which benefits from standing scientific committees (e.g., POPRC, CRC)—biodiversity MEAs rely on a patchwork of SBSTTAs, technical working groups, and ad hoc expert committees. A more connected science interface would support cross MEA target setting, monitoring, and methodological alignment.
2.3 Legal and Operational Overlaps
Overlaps are evident in ABS (CBD/Nagoya, ITPGRFA, and BBNJ), site based conservation (Ramsar, WHC, CBD), and species measures (CITES, CMS, CBD). Countries face capacity overload from multiple national focal points and asynchronous reporting cycles. Harmonized reporting and data platforms can reduce this burden; the CBD led Data Reporting Tool for MEAs (DaRT) could be a promising step if broadly adopted.
3. Financial Mechanisms and Constraints
Finance is the critical enabler of synergy. CITES, RAMSAR and CMS lack a dedicated financial mechanism and rely on ad hoc external funding, including from the Global Environment Facility (GEF). The GEF currently also serves as the financial mechanism for CBD and its Protocols, UNCCD, and is expected to support BBNJ related actions as these kick in after it’s entry into force. Cumulatively, GEF has allocated over USD 22 billion in grants with substantial co financing. Yet funding often flows through siloed windows aligned to individual MEAs, complicating multi convention projects.
3.1 Beyond GEF: Complementary Funds
The ITPGRFA MLS provides resources to farmer led conservation and breeding initiatives. Ramsar and WHC depend heavily on voluntary contributions and project finance, creating chronic underfunding for site management and monitoring.
The BBNJ Agreement includes a voluntary trust fund to facilitate early implementation and participation by developing countries as well as a special trust fund to be alimented by proceeds from the use of genetic resources in areas beyond national jurisdiction.
3.2 Persistent Gaps and Fragmentation
Despite aggregate growth in biodiversity finance, Parties at CBD COP15 noted continuing gaps between ambition and available resources, alongside barriers to access and absorption. Integrated programming for cross MEA outcomes remains limited. By comparison, the chemicals and waste cluster uses joint services and synchronized COPs to align budgeting cycles, capacity building, and technical assistance, creating a more coherent pipeline of support.
4. Political Dynamics and Major Actor Positions
Political economy shapes what institutional designs can achieve. Secretariats tend to protect their autonomy; governments weigh sovereignty, trade, and development priorities; and equity concerns remain salient. Contention around digital sequence information (DSI) and ABS illustrates divergent interests across MEAs.
4.1 Major Actors
• United States: outside CBD and Nagoya; engages actively in CITES and sectoral bodies; cautious on multilateral ABS.• China: strong role in CBD/KMGBF; supportive of capacity building; cautious about far reaching benefit sharing modalities under BBNJ.
• India and Brazil: emphasize equity, technology transfer, and fair benefit sharing; wary of burdens without commensurate support.
• European Union: generally cohesive advocate for biodiversity ambition and cross MEA coordination, though internal sectoral trade offs (e.g., agriculture) persist.
• African Group, strong on conservation and sustainable use, focused on the provision of additional financial resources and keen on the establishment of dedicated financial mechanisms.
4.2 Ocean Governance Politics
The BBNJ Agreement must navigate interactions with existing sectoral and regional bodies, notably RFMOs. Debates over institutional hierarchy, benefit sharing of MGRs (including DSI), and standards for ABMTs/EIAs reflect broader geopolitics and North–South equity concerns.
5. Comparative Insights and Pathways Toward Strategic Coherence
5.1 Lessons from the Chemicals and Waste Cluster
The BRS Conventions operationalize synergies through: (i) joint services and administrative functions; (ii) back to back or joint COPs; (iii) harmonized technical assistance and capacity building strategies; and (iv) standing scientific committees.
While mandates remain distinct, institutionalized coordination has yielded efficiencies in budgeting, technical support, and compliance assistance. The Minamata Convention on Mercury, though separate, benefits from and contributes to shared technical platforms and capacity building networks.
5.2 A Practical Synergy Agenda for Biodiversity MEAs
1) Joint Work Plans under the KMGBF: Develop time bound, target linked joint programs among CBD, CITES, CMS, Ramsar, WHC, UNCCD, ITPGRFA, and (as it matures) BBNJ. Prioritize cross cutting areas such as ecosystem restoration, invasive species, wildlife trade, and genetic resources.2) Harmonized Reporting and Data Architecture: Scale up the CBD DART platform across MEAs; align indicators, metadata standards, and submission cycles.
3) Integrated Funding Windows: Establish a GEF multi MEA ‘synergy window’ either under the General Trust Fund or under the GBFF to finance projects that deliver jointly against KMGBF targets and related MEA obligations; incentivize national level integrated programming and shared enabling activities.
4) Coordinated Capacity Building: Create a joint help desk and roster of experts servicing multiple MEAs; bundle regional training; and promote South–South cooperation.
5) Science Interface Linkages: Mandate reciprocal participation of scientific bodies (e.g., SBSTTAs, CMS Scientific Council) and further formalize channels between IPBES and all biodiversity MEAs.
6) UNEP/EMG and UNEA Leadership: Utilize UNEA to adopt resolutions inviting MEAs and UN agencies to report on synergistic implementation and to pilot joint services.
7) National Level Integration: Encourage ‘Integrated Biodiversity Implementation Plans’ that consolidate NBSAPs with Ramsar site strategies, WHC site management plans, CITES/CMS action plans, UNCCD NAPs, and—where relevant—BBNJ commitments. This reduces duplication and clarifies institutional responsibilities.
5.3 Guardrails for Equity and Effectiveness
Synergy must not translate into additional burdens on developing countries without resources. Equity guardrails can include: predictable finance; technology cooperation; fair access to genetic resources and DSI benefits; and attention to indigenous peoples’ and local communities’ rights. Political buy in improves when integration demonstrably reduces workload (e.g., one integrated report instead of many) and mobilizes additional finance.
6. Conclusion
Biodiversity MEAs collectively provide a comprehensive rulebook, but fragmentation blunts their impact. The KMGBF offers a unifying roadmap; the BBNJ Agreement extends governance to the global commons. By institutionalizing joint work, harmonizing reporting and data, integrating finance, and strengthening science and coordination functions, the biodiversity regime can replicate the practical synergies achieved in the chemicals and waste cluster—while also emphasizing equity and capacity.
The alternative is continued inefficiency and missed outcomes during a critical decade for nature. Given the institutional complexities of the biodiversity related MEAS it might be advisable to establish a two step process. Bringing the UNEP hosted secretariats closer together and based on possible results open a broader process to see how the other MEAs that are hosted by other institutions could be brought in.
Hugo-Maria Schally is former Head of the Multilateral Environmental Cooperation Unit at the Directorate-General for Environment, European Commission.
IPS UN Bureau
TOKYO, Sep 1 2025 (IPS) - Marking the United Nations’ International Day Against Nuclear Tests, young activists and experts gathered at the UN University in Tokyo for an event titled “The Role of Youth in Supporting Global Hibakusha.” The forum underscored how youth solidarity can amplify the voices of survivors of nuclear testing and bombings, known collectively as the “Global Hibakusha” — communities scarred by the use, production, and testing of nuclear weapons, from Hiroshima to the Marshall Islands — and strengthen global momentum toward nuclear abolition.
The event was part conference, part call to arms. Its message was clear: the nuclear age is not a matter of history, but a crisis that continues to live in the bodies, memories, and struggles of people worldwide. And young people, the organizers emphasized, must shoulder the responsibility of carrying those voices forward.
Youth Survey on Nuclear Awareness
Daiki Nakazawa (right) and Momoka Abe(left) presenting the final results of a Youth Peace Awareness Survey. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri
The five organizations presented the final results of a Youth Peace Awareness Survey, conducted between January 6 and August 9, across five countries—the United States, Australia, Kazakhstan, Japan, and the Marshall Islands. Targeting youth aged 18 to 35, the survey drew responses from 1,580 participants, examining their knowledge of nuclear weapons, attitudes, and readiness for action.
“In every country surveyed, those who had heard the testimony of survivors were more likely to be taking action for nuclear abolition,” said Daiki Nakazawa, a representative from SGI Youth. “It shows that listening to Hibakusha is not simply remembrance. It is a catalyst for activism.”
His colleague, Momoka Abe, added that for their generation, survivor accounts “remain one of the most powerful ways to understand both the human costs of nuclear weapons and the urgency of preventing their use.”
Remembering Kazakhstan’s Nuclear Legacy
Semipalatinsk Former Nuclear Weapon Test site. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri
He reminded the Tokyo audience that much of the data on those tests was removed to Moscow during the Soviet collapse, leaving independent assessments patchy at best. “The consequences are still poorly understood,” he said. “But the human suffering is clear.”
Kazakhstan’s government closed the Semipalatinsk site in 1991, the year of its independence, and voluntarily renounced the world’s fourth-largest nuclear arsenal. It was that historic gesture that the U.N. chose to honor when it designated August 29 as a global day against nuclear testing in 2009.
A Japanese Perspective
Kazakhstan presided over the 3rd meeting of state parties to TPNW which will take place at the United Nations Headquarters in New York between March 3 and 7 in 2025. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri, President of INPS Japan
Yuki Nihei, an SGI youth who traveled to New York in March for the Third Meeting of States Parties to the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons (TPNW), recounted a moment that made that gap vivid. At a side event on Global Hibakusha, she listened to testimony from an Indigenous Australian exposed to British nuclear tests.
“There was no warning. No consent. And to this day, they receive little compensation, and their suffering is barely acknowledged,” she said. “While Hiroshima and Nagasaki are often recalled in Japan as historical tragedies, but hearing from Global Hibakusha shows that nuclear harm is present-tense. A lot of people are still suffering now.”
That realization, she said, pushed her to think differently about solidarity:“As a Japanese youth, I want to stand with Global Hibakusha in pursuit of genuine nuclear abolition.”
The Treaty and Its Challenges
The Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons, signed 20 September 2017 by 50 United Nations member states. Credit: UN Photo / Paulo Filgueiras
Takagaki also offered a note of caution against reducing youth activism to inheritance. “We often hear that young people should ‘carry on the voices of Hibakusha,’” he said. “That is important, but it is not enough. Each of us must also decide what kind of society we want to build — and take responsibility for creating it.”
Kazakhstan’s Call for Action
Anvar Milzatillayev, Counselor of the Embassy of Kazakhstan in Japan. Credit: Katsuhiro Asagiri
“Testimonies of survivors must continue to be shared,” he stressed, “because they have the power to transform awareness into action.” Milzatillayev expressed confidence in the “three powers of youth”—to spread the truth of nuclear harm, to connect across borders, and to mobilize society—adding: “Together with young people of Kazakhstan, Japan, and around the world, we will support the Global Hibakusha and build a nuclear-free future. I truly believe this is possible.”
Professor Tshilidzi Marwala, the Rector of the United Nations University, also emphasized the responsibility to carry forward the voices of all those affected by nuclear weapons. Renewing the United Nations’ founding pledge “to save succeeding generations from the scourge of war,” he called on the generations who will shape the future to take action for peace with foresight and courage.
This article is brought to you by INPS Japan in collaboration with Soka Gakkai International, in consultative status with UN ECOSOC.
IPS UN Bureau
PRETORIA, South Africa, Sep 1 2025 (IPS) - African sovereign debtors in distress face terrible choices. They are often forced to choose between fully paying their creditors and financing the needs of their populations – health, education, renewable energy, water.
Discussions with their creditors focus on financial, economic and contractual issues. The environmental and social impacts of their situation are largely excluded from negotiations.
Thanks to the initiative of some Vanuatan law students, this may be about to change.
Vanuatu is a country consisting of small islands in the south Pacific. It has been ranked as one of the countries most affected by climate change, facing threats of rising sea levels and storm surges. In 2019, a law professor in Vanuatu, Justin Rose, asked his students to propose ways to deal with the climate threat confronting their country.
They suggested that Vanuatu ask the United Nations general assembly to request an advisory opinion from the International Court of Justice on the international legal obligations of states regarding climate change. They convinced their government to adopt their proposal. They also mobilised international support, saying they wanted to take the world’s biggest problem to the world’s highest court.
In 2023, the UN general assembly agreed to seek the International Court of Justice’s advice on the following two issues: the obligations of states under international law to protect the environment from the impact of human-caused greenhouse gas emissions and
the legal consequences for states if they fail to meet these obligations and thereby cause significant environmental harm for present and future generations.
The case attracted unprecedented attention. The court received over 150 written submissions. Over 100 states and international organisations made oral presentations in nine days of public hearings. On 23 July 2025, the International Court of Justice issued a unanimous advisory opinion. It was only the fifth time in its nearly 80-year history to do so.
The court’s opinion was that the obligations of states extend beyond the treaties they have signed and ratified. They also include obligations arising from customary international law. This is the law that states practise out of a sense of legal obligation. It is binding on all states and international organisations, regardless of whether they have signed any applicable treaty.
The rules that matter
The court declared that there are two relevant customary international legal obligations.
The first is a duty to prevent significant harm to the environment. This requires states to exercise due diligence before acting in ways that could cause environmental damage. They must assess both the probability of causing serious harm and the likely extent of any expected impacts.
In making these assessments, states must take into account current binding and non-binding international standards. It also requires states to ensure that companies and individuals subject to their jurisdiction comply with these duties.
The second is a duty to cooperate with other states to protect the environment and to help solve international problems of an economic, social, cultural or humanitarian nature. Here, the court opined that a healthy environment is a pre-condition for the enjoyment of human rights. It affects the rights to life, health and livelihoods, and the rights of children, women and indigenous people.
The court, in discussing the second issue, advised that states can be held legally responsible if they do not take all measures within their power to prevent significant environmental harm. It noted that while all states have this duty, its precise contents will vary depending on their capabilities. The critical factor is the effort the states make and not the results they produce.
The debt angle
Although the court’s opinion is only advisory, it is likely to be highly influential. It was informed by a wide range of submissions. It was a unanimous decision of 15 judges who come from 15 countries.
The fact that the court grounded its decision, in part, on customary international environmental and human rights grounds means that it has implications for any state actions that can have significant adverse impacts on climate, the environment and customary human rights.
My work as an international lawyer working on sovereign debt and development finance convinces me that this includes the renegotiation or restructuring of African debt.
Whatever action African sovereign debtors take to deal with their debt crisis will affect their ability to manage their greenhouse gas emissions. It will also affect their ability to deliver on their obligations to their citizens’ rights. These include the rights to life, health and livelihoods.
This suggests that African sovereign debtors and their creditors need to understand the environmental and climate impacts of their transactions.
They must also work together to resolve their transactions’ negative environmental, social, economic and cultural impacts. Their respective responsibilities will differ depending on their capabilities.
The International Court of Justice opinion may therefore offer new opportunities to make debtor and creditor states, and creditor institutions, accept responsibility for the environmental and social impacts of their actions.
Three possible avenues for relief
There could be at least three ways to relate the climate opinion to debt.
First, the debtor and its stakeholders can use the decision to bolster their arguments for including the environmental and social impacts of debt in their negotiations. They can point out that the debtor state cannot avoid international legal responsibility for the effects of the transaction on its greenhouse gas emissions and on the human rights of its citizens.
They can also point out that its creditors and their home states also have a legal obligation to assess these impacts and cooperate in managing them.
Second, the stakeholders can remind both the sovereign debtor and its creditors about the content of their international legal responsibilities. There are international norms and standards that can help establish that content.
Some of them are:
UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights
the UNCTAD Principles on Promoting Responsible Sovereign Borrowing and Lending
the UN Global Compact
the OECD Principles of Responsible Conduct for Multinational Enterprises
the World Bank Environmental and Social Framework.
In addition, there are many private financial institutions that have human rights and environmental and social policies that often specifically refer to these international standards.
Third, drawing inspiration from the Vanuatu law students, activists around the world can use the judgment to strengthen their arguments. They can say that creditor and debtor states have an international legal duty to prevent significant harm to the environment and to cooperate to protect the environment. This duty extends to ensuring that companies and individuals subject to their jurisdiction act in conformity with these duties. They can be held legally responsible for failing to comply with these duties.
Finally, there are international mechanisms that non-state actors can use to hold debtors and creditors accountable for failing to perform their duties. These include the National Contact Points. These exist in each state that has signed on to the OECD Principles of Responsible Conduct for Multinational Enterprises. Another possibility is the independent accountability mechanisms in the multilateral development banks.
There are also the courts in the growing number of states in which governments, central banks and private actors have been sued for violating their obligations to climate change.
States and financial institutions, of course, can avoid these consequences by respecting the court’s opinion and developing ways of managing African sovereign debt that comply with its international legal advice.
Daniel D. Bradlow is a professor at the Centre for the Advancement of Scholarship, University of Pretoria, South Africa. danny.bradlow@up.ac.za
IPS UN Bureau
Sep 1 2025 (IPS) -
CIVICUS discusses civil society’s challenges in engaging with United Nations (UN) processes with an activist from a Salvadoran queer-led organisation who asked to remain anonymous for security reasons.
The UN recently held its annual High-Level Political Forum (HLPF) to review progress on the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs). El Salvador proclaimed the country’s ‘comprehensive transformation’ under President Nayib Bukele’s increasingly autocratic rule. But the Bukele government is attacking civic space, and its domestic repression extends internationally, with civil society facing serious barriers and potential reprisals when engaging with UN processes.
What challenges did you face participating in the 2025 HLPF?
Our participation was made extremely difficult. It was only thanks to the support of international allies that we were able to prepare a civil society response to the state’s Voluntary National Review and attend the forum. Once there, the barriers to reading the civil society statement were significant. We made numerous behind-the-scenes efforts before the Women’s Major Group generously offered to read our statement on our behalf.
Being the only Salvadoran civil society representative in the room, I was forced to give up my speaking space and rely on the solidarity of others. Despite feeling deep companionship and mutual care among civil society, it remained a profoundly painful experience. Not being able to read a statement that had been built collectively and carefully through anonymous consultations felt like erasure: of our presence, our voices and our right to speak truth in global spaces.
Potential reprisals were another major concern. During the HLPF, we closely monitored the situation back home, as just months prior, El Salvador had taken further steps towards full authoritarianism. The arrest of Ruth López, a high-profile human rights lawyer, caused widespread concern. Most Salvadoran organisations dropped out of the UN process afterwards, leaving our organisation as the only one present in New York.
Even after Ruth’s arrest caused international outrage, human rights defenders continued to be targeted. The government wasn’t deterred by the possibility of international scrutiny. Further, the cases of Kilmar Armando Ábrego García, deported from the USA by the Trump administration and imprisoned in a maximum-security detention centre, and Venezuelan detainees who experienced torture under custody in El Salvador, illustrate that threats of arrest, torture and death are real risks.
Is this problem widespread beyond El Salvador?
These attacks are not unique to El Salvador: civil society leaders from countries including Guatemala and Nigeria also faced threats during the HLPF. One organisation’s office was raided during the forum. This confirms that the UN remains one of the few spaces where civil society can speak truth to power, which is why repressive governments are willing to go to great lengths to suppress their voices.
However, even if not everybody faces the same level of repression, there was a shared sense that the space for civil society engagement at the UN is also narrowing. This has serious implications. When fear of retaliation shapes who speaks and how, the credibility of the UN as a platform for civil society suffers. It fundamentally changes who is able and willing to speak out. Who will take the mic at the UN when doing so might cost them their freedom?
What needs to change?
The UN needs stronger protection mechanisms for human rights defenders who engage in these spaces. When we reached out to UN officials in Geneva and New York, their support was unfortunately limited. It was civil society, not official UN mechanisms, that stepped in to activate protection networks, establish contacts and contribute to tracking possible reprisals.
The narrowing space for civil society engagement at the UN must be addressed. This has become particularly visible in the planning process for the UN80 initiative – an efficiency drive to mark the UN’s 80th anniversary – which, instead of being a moment of celebration, is increasingly seen as a push for further exclusion.
I deeply hope CIVICUS and other allied networks will continue to push for stronger protection mechanisms and public responses when defenders are under attack for daring to engage in these spaces.
El Salvador is currently on the CIVICUS Monitor Watchlist, which tracks countries experiencing a serious decline in respect for civic freedoms.
SEE ALSO
SDGs: accountability under threat CIVICUS Lens 11.Aug.2025
Defending the defenders: civil society’s struggle for global space and voice CIVICUS Lens 28.Jul.2025
Key highlights: CIVICUS at 59th Session of the UN Human Rights Council CIVICUS 23.Jul.2025
UNITED NATIONS, Sep 1 2025 (IPS) - When Yasser Arafat, leader of the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) was denied a US visa to visit New York to address the United Nations back in 1988– under the Ronald Reagan administration– the General Assembly defied the United States by temporarily moving the UN’s highest policy making body to Geneva– for the first time in UN history– providing a less-hostile political environment for the PLO leader.
Arafat, who first addressed the UN in 1974, took a swipe at Washington when he prefaced his statement in Geneva by pointing out that “it never occurred to me that my second meeting with this honorable Assembly, would take place in the hospitable city of Geneva”.
And now, 37 years later, there is a campaign to once again temporarily move the General Assembly sessions to Geneva to provide a platform for Palestinian delegates who are being denied visas to enter the US.
Sarah Leah Whitson, executive director DAWN, a nonprofit organization that seeks to reform U.S. policy in the Middle East, told IPS: “It’s clear that the US is trying to deter any discussion about the genocide in Gaza and Palestinian statehood by revoking the visas of Palestinian officials”.
But it’s also pretty clear, “that the world is fed up with the savage Israeli atrocities we are witnessing every day, so we very much hope they will act promptly to move the General Assembly meeting to Geneva just as they did the last time the US pulled such a stunt,” said Whitson, a former director of the Middle East and North Africa division of Human Rights Watch.
Moving the meeting to Geneva, she argued, will send a message to the Trump administration that the international community does not tolerate these breaches of long-standing law requiring access to all UN representatives.
In a statement released last week, DAWN said the 1947 US-UN Headquarters Agreement requires the United States to provide unfettered access to UN proceedings for all representatives, regardless of bilateral disputes.
Section 11 establishes an “unrestricted right” for officials to enter the U.S. for UN business, while Section 12 states these provisions apply “irrespective of the relations existing between the Governments” and the U.S.
This is not the first time the United States has violated its obligations under the UN Headquarters Agreement. In 1988, the U.S. denied a visa to PLO Chairman Yasser Arafat to attend the UN General Assembly session, DAWN said.
The UN responded by adopting a resolution concluding that Washington had violated its obligations under the 1947 Agreement and, as a rebuke, moved its General Assembly meeting from New York to Geneva to allow the Palestinian leader to speak.
Asked for his comments, Martin S. Edwards, Associate Dean for Academic and Student Affairs, School of Diplomacy and International Relations, at Seton Hall University, told IPS: “In a very real sense, the call to move the meeting is to be expected.”
The Trump administration delights in pursuing policies without regard to the opinions of other countries, so it’s no accident that America First is becoming America Alone, he said.
If countries who have proposed Palestinian recognition follow through, the US will be the only P-5 country on the Security Council yet to do so.
The recent countries that have proposed Palestinian recognition are doing so to shape the Israeli conduct of the Gaza War.
“It makes every bit of sense to use the threat of moving the meeting to Geneva in the very same way. And this points to a second lesson that this White House has yet to learn: when you push on the rest of the world, it can and will push back”, declared Edwards.
Asked about the denial of visas, UN Spokesperson Stephane Dujarric told reporters August 29: “We are going to discuss this with the State Department. I mean, the Headquarters Agreement deserves to be read – notably, I think, sections 11 and 12.”
“We obviously hope that this will be resolved. It is important that all Member States, permanent observers, be able to be represented – especially, I think in this case, as we know, with the upcoming two-state solution meeting that France and Saudi Arabia will host at the beginning of the GA”
“We would like to see all diplomats and delegates who are entitled to come here to be able to travel freely”, he said.
Meanwhile, a State Department Press Release, August 29, says “in accordance with U.S. law, Secretary of State Marco Rubio is denying and revoking visas from members of the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) and the Palestinian Authority (PA) ahead of the upcoming United Nations General Assembly.”
“The Trump Administration has been clear: it is in our national security interests to hold the PLO and PA accountable for not complying with their commitments, and for undermining the prospects for peace.”
“Before the PLO and PA can be considered partners for peace, they must consistently repudiate terrorism — including the October 7 massacre — and end incitement to terrorism in education, as required by U.S. law and as promised by the PLO.
The PA must also end its attempts to bypass negotiations through international lawfare campaigns, including appeals to the ICC and ICJ, and efforts to secure the unilateral recognition of a conjectural Palestinian state. Both steps materially contributed to Hamas’s refusal to release its hostages, and to the breakdown of the Gaza ceasefire talks.”
The PA Mission to the UN will receive waivers per the UN Headquarters Agreement, the State Department said. The United States remains open to re-engagement that is consistent with our laws, should the PA/PLO meet their obligations and demonstrably take concrete steps to return to a constructive path of compromise and peaceful coexistence with the State of Israel.
So far, the State of Palestine has been recognized as a sovereign nation state by 147 of the 193 member states, or just over 76% of all UN members. It has been “a non-member observer state” of the UN General Assembly since November 2012.
Meanwhile Western countries, who are US allies – including UK, France, Australia and Canada– have announced plans to recognize Palestine as a sovereign nation state during the General Assembly sessions in mid-September.
Palestine, which was never afforded the status of a full-fledged UN member state pulled off a coup when the 134-member Group of 77, the largest single economic coalition at the UN, elected Palestine as its chairman, back in 2018, much against US protests.
Speaking on condition of anonymity, a former UN assistant secretary-general (ASG) told IPS since the US does not have a veto power in the General Assembly (GA) –unlike the Security Council—a GA resolution could be effortlessly adopted – perhaps a resolution sponsored by the 57-member Organization of Islamic Cooperation (OIC).
IPS UN Bureau Report