By Kizito Makoye
DAR ES SALAAM, Tanzania, Jul 13 2026 – Every evening just before sunset, Salima Kitwana hobbles into her backyard holding a photograph.

In the picture, her son Hemedi, wearing a green football jersey, smiles awkwardly into the camera, unaware that his fate would soon be engulfed in one of Tanzania’s darkest political chapters.

At 57, Kitwana has lived with diabetes for nine years, but she says the illness has worsened since her son’s disappearance after the disputed 2025 elections and the violent crackdown that followed.

Her gnarled toes, wrapped in iodine-stained gauze, bear the marks of chronic ulcers. Some days she sits silently for hours. On others, she writhes in pain, whispering his name as if repetition might bring him back.

“Since Hemedi disappeared, my body has changed. I do not eat or sleep properly. My illness has worsened because my mind is not at peace,” she tells IPS.

Eight months on, he has not returned.

“My neighbours tell me to move on. Honestly, how do I move on when I don’t know whether my son is alive or dead?” she says.

Like Kitwana, hundreds of families across Tanzania are still searching for answers after post-election violence that officials say left 518 people dead. Rights groups say the toll may be higher, with dozens still missing.

Her grief, private and intimate, is now part of a wider political reckoning that is beginning to reverberate far beyond Tanzania’s borders.

Activists have accused President Samia Suluhu Hassan of using excessive force to tighten her grip on power — allegations authorities reject, insisting security operations were necessary to restore order.

But as pressure for accountability mounts, Tanzania’s internal crisis is increasingly drawing international scrutiny, raising tougher questions in European capitals over whether development aid can remain insulated from governance concerns.

For families like Kitwana’s, those debates don’t matter. Yet they are now tied to these decisions being made thousands of kilometres away.

Salome Makamba, deputy minister for energy, cooks lunch on a clean-energy stove installed through the EU-funded CookFund programme in Tanzania. The initiative has equipped more than 45 public institutions with modern cooking technologies, benefiting over 62,000 students while reducing reliance on firewood and charcoal. As the European Parliament questions aspects of future EU engagement with Tanzania, projects such as CookFund have become a reminder of the development gains at stake, including improved health, reduced deforestation and expanded access to clean energy for schools and communities. Credit: UNCDF/CookFund

Last month, the European Parliament moved to block the proposed disbursement of a 156-million-euro (USD 168 million) development package for Tanzania’s 2026 cooperation programme, citing concerns over post-election violence and democratic backsliding.

The vote does not automatically suspend assistance. Under EU fiduciary rules, final decisions rest with the European Commission and subsequent negotiations with Tanzanian authorities.

Still, the message was politically heavy.

European funding has long been embedded in Tanzania’s development architecture, supporting education, infrastructure, governance reforms, and social services.

But analysts say the vote reflects a deeper rupture.

Like Kitwana’s loss, “This vote is about trust being broken – between partners that once shared development priorities,” said a Dar es Salaam-based political commentator, Joseph Ngwegwe.

He blamed the government for underestimating the diplomatic cost of the post-election crackdown.

“Our reputation has taken a serious hit because those in power operated under the illusion that post-election violence could be treated as a purely internal security matter and quietly fade away,” he told IPS.

Ngwegwe warned that Tanzania may now be entering a period where incremental reforms are no longer sufficient.

“This is a moment of rupture and renewal. We have reached a point where patchwork reforms are no longer enough—the system itself needs fundamental rethinking,” he said.

For Kitwana, such analysis offers no relief. Her concern remains fixed on absence, not diplomacy.

Sensing growing outcry over the EU decision, Tanzania’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs moved quickly to contain perceptions of a looming aid crisis.

On June 19, 2026, the ministry issued a statement insisting that the European Parliament’s vote was not binding and had been misinterpreted as a final decision.

“The vote in the European Parliament is not the final decision of the European Union regarding Tanzania’s 2026 cooperation programme,” the statement said.

Officials also sought to minimise the financial implications by detailing the structure of the package, noting that only 17 million euros would have flowed directly through state coffers, with the rest channelled through private sectors.

But critics argue that this defence misses the broader impact.

Godlisten Mallisa, a lawyer and government critic, dismissed the official interpretation as politically optimistic and economically misleading.

“When the process moved from the European Parliament’s Development Committee to the full Parliament and the outcome remained unchanged, suggesting things will dramatically shift at the final stage ignores the political message being sent,” he said.

He warned that even funds routed through non-governmental organisation actors still circulate within the national economy.

“It is misleading to suggest the impact will be limited because most of the money was channelled through civil society organisations and development partners,” he said. “These institutions employ Tanzanians, pay taxes, support local businesses and deliver services.”

For households like Kitwana’s, such financial debates translate into uncertainty layered on top of grief.

The European decision has also amplified broader diplomatic tensions.

In Washington, a bipartisan legislative proposal—the Reassessing the United States–Tanzania Bilateral Relationship Act—has sailed through key Senate committee stages.

The bill calls for a comprehensive review of security cooperation, trade preferences, and development assistance, and proposes targeted sanctions under the Global Magnitsky framework against officials accused of involvement in post-election violence.

It also directs US agencies to assess Tanzania’s growing alignment with Moscow and Beijing.

The pressure is compounded by the continued detention of opposition leader Tundu Lissu, which Western governments and rights groups cite as evidence of shrinking democratic space.

Authorities have rejected allegations of political persecution.

Back in Bunju, on the outskirts of Dar es Salaam, Kitwana’s life is measured not in parliamentary votes or diplomatic statements but in the silence of her home.

Some mornings she believes her son will return. On other mornings, she prepares herself for news she has not yet received.

“If someone told me he had died, I would mourn him and pray for him,” she says. “But this silence is worse. Every day I wake up hoping he will walk through that door.”

IPS UN Bureau Report

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By Kumkum Chadha
NEW DELHI, Jul 13 2026 – To say that the men scored over women yet again would be an understatement. To say that the women lost and men have won would be an oversimplification and to say that political manoeuvring, intrigue and deceit outdid half of India’s population would be stating the obvious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For the uninitiated, delimitation is the process of redrawing the boundaries of electoral constituencies. By this principle, seats for Parliament and states would be reallocated on the basis of the latest census, which is yet incomplete.

The Government’s bid to club delimitation with the reservation bill was decried. Opposition parties slammed the Government for making women a scapegoat and “using women” for a political end.

To quote an Opposition MP, Mahua Moitra, the Government’s move was “delimitation wrapped in a saree”. What she meant was that the Government is firing from the shoulders of women to push through legislation which otherwise would be opposed tooth and nail.

It is pertinent to mention that the opposition-ruled states are against delimitation, as it erodes the political power of those states that have fewer numbers in terms of population. With the voting numbers stacked against the Government, the Delimitation Bill would have hit a roadblock  in Parliament. Hence, the Government linked the two Bills. The logic: delimitation would ride piggyback on the Women’s Reservation Bill. The women’s vote being very important in elections, no party would like to be seen as opposing women’s reservation.

However, the Government’s calculations went haywire and the Opposition unitedly voted against the Bill. The result: What seemed achievable fell through.

As an opposition member of Parliament, Sushmita Dev explained, “We are not against women’s reservation. But what is a betrayal is the Government riding on the shoulders of women to push delimitation. Why link delimitation with women’s reservation? Why bring in politics? Why push an agenda? Why not given women the dignity they deserve?” is what she asks.

Politics apart, women who have been fighting for women’s empowerment for decades see this slugfest between the Government and the Opposition as “a lost opportunity”. To quote activist Ranjana Kumari, Founder of the Centre for Social Research: “The defeat of the Women Bill in Parliament compels deeper reflection on the state of India’s democracy. There is a gap between intent and action. The political parties must take responsibility and move beyond tokenism. Globally, gender quotas have demonstrated that change is possible when backed by political commitment and clear design. India stands at a similar crossroads.”

Kumari has been in the forefront of the women’s reservation movement in India.

It is at this juncture that one needs to stop and ask: For how long will the women of India keep knocking doors? For how long will political parties and politicians continue making them scapegoats to achieve their political goals? Why is their due being denied to them time and again? Why do they continue to be victims at the hands of men who are politically powerful?

Why does politics get the better of women? Why is their future being linked to complicated legislative processes? Why are they being subjected to political juggernauts?

Too many questions but one straight and simple answer: The men of India, as in many other parts of the world, want women to continue being subservient and remain second class in a world where half the sky is theirs.

IPS UN Bureau Report

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By CIVICUS
Jul 13 2026 –  
CIVICUS speaks about efforts to use the 2026 FIFA World Cup to highlight Mexico’s enforced disappearance crisis with Ana Enamorado, a Honduran national who continues to search for her missing son in Mexico, and founder of the Regional Network of Migrant Families.

Ana Enamorado

Enforced disappearances in Mexico hit migrant families particularly hard, as their precarious immigration status compounds the lack of state support. Families and search groups are taking advantage of the fact that international attention is currently focused on the World Cup being played in Mexico to raise awareness of this crisis and demand that the Mexican government search for and find the disappeared.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why did you decide to protest during the World Cup?

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

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

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

How has the Mexican government responded to the protests?

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

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

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

What are you demanding of the government and international bodies?

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

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

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

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

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

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The disappeared: Mexico’s industrial-scale human rights crisis CIVICUS Lens 22.Apr.2025

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By Shihana Mohamed
NEW YORK, Jul 13 2026 – As the United Nations (UN) Security Council prepares for its first round of closed-door straw polls this month to select the tenth Secretary-General, the organization stands at a critical crossroads. Multilateralism is fracturing under geopolitical gridlock, and the UN is battling a severe budgetary deficit driven by funding cuts.

Yet the gravest threat to the institution is not financial; it is cultural. To regain the trust of the global public, the UN urgently needs a radical transformation of its organizational culture, beginning with the selection of candidates for its highest office—the post of UN Secretary-General. This requires dismantling entrenched nepotism, cronyism, patronage, and quid pro quo practices in recruitment, promotion and appointment, and replacing them with a culture grounded in merit, integrity, transparency, and gender equity.

Patronage Becomes Institutional Norm

The history of the Secretary-Generalship and senior leadership is marked by allegations and documented cases of favouritism that have undermined the UN’s professed values of merit and equity. During the tenure of former Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon, concerns were raised about the employment of his son-in-law within the UN system, prompting debate over perceived favouritism, though the appointment was defended on merit grounds. Under Kofi Annan, the Oil-for-Food Programme scandal exposed widespread corruption, bribery, and serious administrative failures.

Such controversies are not confined to the highest levels of leadership. Allegations of politicized staffing and patronage have periodically surfaced across the UN system, highlighting a persistent gap between the organization’s principles and internal realities.

What begins as an exception at the executive level can become embedded practice throughout UN agencies and departments. Mid-level managers often replicate these patterns by shaping job descriptions, tailoring interview panels, sharing interview materials, and influencing or “fixing” vacancies for preferred candidates. In such an environment, backdoor recruitment risks becoming normalized rather than exceptional.

The result is a damaging paradox: while the UN publicly champions fairness, equal opportunity, and transparency, its internal systems often operate through favoritism, personal connections, and exclusion. Talented staff without access to influential networks face limited advancement, while better-connected but less qualified individuals may benefit from patronage, eroding institutional credibility, staff morale, and public trust.

The 2026 Secretary-General Race Under Scrutiny

Even in the current selection process for the next Secretary-General, concerns about institutional fairness persist. Accountability investigations by independent watchdog groups have raised questions about the presence of family members of candidate Rafael Grossi, Director General of the IAEA, across Vienna- and Rome-based UN agencies. By contrast, candidates such as Michelle Bachelet, Rebeca Grynspan, and María Fernanda Espinosa bring extensive records in multilateral governance and international leadership, with no publicly substantiated findings of comparable family-based appointments during their UN service.

Concerns have also emerged regarding unequal institutional advantages during the selection process. Rebeca Grynspan stepped aside from her role as Secretary-General of UNCTAD in line with General Assembly Resolution 79/327, which encourages candidates holding UN positions to suspend their duties during campaigns to avoid conflicts of interest and undue advantage. Rafael Grossi has remained in office as Director General of the IAEA while pursuing his candidacy.

Critics argue that continued access to institutional visibility and resources may create an incumbency advantage. Whether or not this violates formal rules, it raises broader concerns about fairness and structural imbalance in leadership selection.

The UN’s Persistent Gender Gap

Beyond nepotism and back-door recruitment, the most glaring failure of this selection cycle is the UN’s inability to break its own highest glass ceiling. In over 80 years and nine Secretary-Generals, the organization has never been led by a woman. This persists despite years of relentless, highly coordinated global campaigns by civil society groups, advocates, and the 1 for 8 Billion coalition calling for gender-balanced leadership.

Despite decades of calls for historical justice and General Assembly Resolution 79/327—which notes with regret that no woman has ever held the position of Secretary-General and urges Member States to strongly consider nominating women, two men—Rafael Grossi and Macky Sall—were still nominated to such a narrow and exclusive candidate pool. At a time when women are leading nations and global institutions through major crises, this outcome highlights a gap between the commitments of Member States and their practice. It risks reinforcing the very inequalities the United Nations has pledged to address.

Reform in the UN Cannot Wait

The next Secretary-General must treat institutional integrity as a priority long before taking office—indeed, even before announcing a candidacy. Member States must translate long-standing reform commitments into enforceable mandates. These reforms can no longer remain aspirational; they must become immediate requirements shaping how the UN governs, recruits, and leads.

• Prioritizing a Female Leader to Break the Status Quo: Member States—and especially the five permanent Security Council members with veto power—must recognize that meaningful reform requires breaking entrenched networks of power and patronage. Electing the first female Secretary General in 2026 would signal a decisive shift toward aligning leadership with the principles of equality the UN promotes globally.

• Mandatory Campaign Step-Aside Rules: Any active UN official seeking the post of Secretary General should be required to suspend all institutional duties upon declaring candidacy. This would eliminate even the perception of using institutional platforms, influence, or resources for campaigning.

• Ban on Family Appointments: The UN system should adopt a strict policy prohibiting the hiring, consulting, or internship of immediate family members of any Assistant Secretary-General, Under-Secretary-General, agency chief, and Secretary-General candidate. The international civil service must never be treated as a family business.

• Preventing Post-Fixing and Backdoor Recruitment: The Secretary-General’s Office should be empowered to independently review recruitment and selection decisions across the UN system and investigate credible evidence of favoritism, cronyism, or reciprocal patronage. All appointments must follow transparent, merit-based procedures that withstand internal and public scrutiny.

Restoring Institutional Credibility

The world does not need a Secretary-General who merely manages bureaucracy; it needs one who restores moral authority to a fractured international order.

If the next Secretary-General is selected through informal bargaining, backroom deals, entrenched patronage, or continued exclusion of women, the UN risks deepening its legitimacy crisis and accelerating its decline in global relevance.

The UN must first reform itself: break the highest glass ceiling in its history, dismantle entrenched systems of patronage, open its selection process to genuine transparency and scrutiny, and ensure that its leadership reflects the principles and values enshrined in the UN Charter.

The transformation must begin now, starting with this month’s straw polls in the UN Security Council for the Secretary-General selection.

Shihana Mohamed, a Sri Lankan national, is the President of Asia Global Network (www.AsiaGlobalForum.org) and a US Public Voices Fellow on advancing the rights of women and girls. She is the founder of the UN Asia Network for Diversity & Inclusion (www.UN-ANDI.org) and is a strong advocate for gender equality and the advancement of women. She served at the UN for over 25 years.

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