Humanitarian Crises

Ethiopia's outlook a year on from the start of the Tigray crisis is increasingly dire.

This post was authored by Wale Osofisan, senior director, governance technical unit at the International Rescue Committee. When we analyze leadership in the humanitarian sector, we often see images of mostly white men, a few white women, and, if one looks hard enough, one may be lucky to spot a few black and brown men and women working within western cities such as New York, London, Paris, Geneva, or Washington, DC. This is not exclusive to the aid sector. As of 2020, a review of FTSE 250 companies found that 69 percent have no ethnic diversity on their boards. These are the people who have the privilege of making decisions that affect millions of people around the world, particularly those who are seen as living “over there,” in conflict and crisis-affected countries in the Middle East, Africa, and Southeast Asia. Power and how we use it are central to our ability to enact meaningful and lasting change, irrespective of where a person may live. Yet, we often see examples of decisions affecting people thousands of miles away, with little to no input from the people these decisions are meant to serve, especially women and girls who are disproportionately impacted by crises. It is no secret that decision-making powers in the international aid sector mostly sit in western capitals. This is understandable to the extent that resources from richer countries to poorer countries come from a combination of individual donors, taxpayers through their aid institutions, and shareholders in the case of private sector donors. However, the connection between the individual donors, taxpayers, and shareholders to the clients meant to receive these resources is either non-existent or, at best, cosmetic in nature. What will it look like for taxpayers in a donor country to develop a relationship with refugees and internally displaced persons thousands of miles apart? What does it mean for refugees and internally displaced people to have power? These are questions not easily answered in the humanitarian sector. When we think about the power of a voter to choose and remove their leaders, we think of their ballot. When we think about a consumer, we think of their wallet and their choice to purchase an item. What the voter and consumer have in common is choice and voice. Refugees and internally displaced persons don’t have the same type of power. Some are recipients of cash, which in theory should accord them the freedom to spend as they wish, but often there are conditions attached to what they can purchase with this money. While refugees and internationally displaced persons can try to make their voices heard through project suggestion boxes and complaint and grievance mechanisms, they don’t have the power to ensure there are consequences if they are not satisfied with donor services, or if donors do not keep their promises. At the International Rescue Committee, where I lead our work in governance programming, we measure our success in terms of our impact on the lives of the people we serve. This means that we take an intersectional approach to working with local partners, including by amplifying the voices of women and girls whose lives have been affected by conflict and crisis; championing their rights to influence the issues that affect their cities, towns, and communities; and ensuring their priorities and preferences inform program design and implementation. To create real, transformational change, we must be comfortable with power being shared, given, and even lost. Such a dramatic change is likely to provoke some pushback, but to ease the transition, there are several things that people working within the humanitarian sector can do. The sector should prioritize respecting people and communities as sources of knowledge and decision makers on issues that directly affect their lives. How do we do this in practice? One approach is to ensure a gender lens in every program, hearing directly from affected women and girls about what works best in their communities.   Humanitarian agencies should also skew donor accountability downwards. Who determines what a successful development program or project looks like? Evaluators frequently come from wealthy, western contexts, often from the donor country itself. What if we shifted to a model where the people and, in particular, women and girls from the marginalized groups we serve, make the final judgments, further influencing where future donations can be spent? This could also take the form of an independent network where representatives of refugees and internally displaced people dictate the greatest needs for their communities. This type of initiative would not only give refugees and internally displaced people a voice, but also generate direct voting and purchasing power on their behalf. To make this work, a solidarity alliance of taxpayers or shareholders could be established to connect directly with representatives of refugees and internally displaced persons. The donors and clients could form an alliance where the former transfer their power to the latter. This would require an overhaul of current accountability practices, where real power currently flows upward. As we move forward in 2021, the humanitarian sector has the opportunity not only to avoid making the same mistakes, but also to chart a new course where power is developed among a new generation of leaders—including women and girls. If we are serious about enacting lasting and meaningful change, it is time for us to create accountability mechanisms that put people, their families, and communities at the forefront.

The military campaign has resulted in a humanitarian crisis and fears of regional instability. A path forward will require international cooperation, careful diplomacy, and an inclusive political process that restores confidence among the country’s diverse population.

Paul J. Angelo is a fellow for Latin America Studies at the Council on Foreign Relations. In this year’s Preventive Priorities Survey, experts ranked “accelerating economic collapse and political instability in Venezuela, leading to further violent unrest and increased refugee outflows” as one of the top conflict risks to watch in 2021. Policymakers from both sides of the aisle continue to view Venezuela as a U.S. foreign policy priority with humanitarian conditions in the Andean nation continuing to deteriorate against a backdrop of political conflict and public health crisis. By income, 96 percent of the Venezuelan population live in poverty. The World Food Program estimates that one in three Venezuelans is food insecure. With a homicide rate around 60 per 100,000 inhabitants, Venezuela is one of the most violent countries in the world. It is no wonder that Venezuela is the source of the largest refugee crisis in the modern history of the Western Hemisphere, with some 5 million Venezuelans fleeing their homeland in recent years. Sitting atop the world’s largest oil reserves, Venezuela was once the richest country in South America. However, years of corruption, malfeasance, and cronyism by the Nicolás Maduro regime have decimated the country’s productive capacity and gutted social welfare programs. Since claiming victory in a May 2018 presidential election largely viewed as illegitimate, Maduro has cracked down on political dissent and consolidated control over the country’s judiciary and legislature. In December 2020, Maduro loyalists won 91 percent of seats in the country’s National Assembly, the last bastion of opposition power in the country. Most opposition parties pointed to the impossibility of a free and fair contest and boycotted the election, which led to a low turnout of just 31 percent. Opposition lawmakers, led by Interim President Juan Guaidó, continue to insist on the legitimacy of their existing mandate, even as Maduro’s new legislature takes office in January 2021. However, Maduro has stepped up his harassment and intimidation of civil society groups. In the absence of parliamentary privileges, opposition leaders could also face increased repression, forcing them into hiding or exile. Likewise, longstanding rivalries within the opposition coalition could resurface; some party leaders have publicly questioned Guaidó’s leadership and the opposition’s strategy going forward. The influx of migrants and refugees will continue to strain neighboring countries, which have struggled to accommodate so many Venezuelans during an unprecedented economic contraction and the COVID-19 pandemic. Transnational organized crime, including drug trafficking and unregulated gold mining, run rampant in Venezuela, corrupting state institutions and providing a critical source of financing to the heavily sanctioned regime. Additionally, the country has become an arena for U.S. adversaries like Russia, China, Cuba, and Iran to undermine democracy, regional stability, and U.S. interests through diplomatic, economic, and military support for Maduro. The U.S. government has long called for free and fair elections in Venezuela, but the Trump administration’s “maximum pressure” campaign, including the threat of force, failed to unseat Maduro and restore democracy. The incoming Biden administration would do well to focus on attainable goals that ease the suffering of the Venezuelan people and leverage the United States’ network of partnerships to advocate for human rights and democracy in Venezuela through international organizations. Likewise, coordination with Europe on targeted sanctions, combined with incentives such as transitional justice guarantees, could increase pressure on regime officials to engage in dialogue to resolve the political impasse. Subnational elections are due to take place in 2021, affording oppositionists a renewed opportunity to secure free and fair conditions, including international electoral monitoring. Although addressing Venezuela’s economic freefall and political polarization will require massive international support for the country’s reconstruction, empowering the Venezuelan people to reclaim their democracy will be an essential first step in reversing the country’s meltdown.

The Islamic State in West Africa (ISWA) released a video of its execution-style murder of five aid workers in the northeastern Nigerian state of Borno. The victims were employees of Action Against Hunger, a Nigerian affiliate of France's Agency for Technical Cooperation and Development, the International Rescue Committee (IRC), and REACH International. Two others appear to have been Nigerian government employees, one a "security worker" and the other a displaced persons camp coordinator. Compared to the Shekau-led faction of Boko Haram, ISWA has tended to avoid killing Muslim civilians. They made exceptions for people working for or with the government, NGOs, or international agencies, all of which they see as “foreign” and “Western” interventions. The penchant for avoiding Muslim civilians could be eroding, however, as recent attacks indicate. ISWA is known to kidnap its victims for ransom. If ransom fails, it then murders them, which may have been the issue here. The IRC employee in June was filmed by his captors, imploring his employer to save him. Ransom payments appear to be an important source of funding for terrorist organizations in West Africa. Paying ransom is illegal in Nigeria. While the United States government does not pay, other governments do, though they usually deny it. Kidnapping for ransom has become a widespread criminal activity in Nigeria, with many private individuals and entities paying.  In northern Nigeria, terrorist groups filming execution-style murders is an old song. As a terror tactic, it appears to work with a population already under stress. The Nigerian security services, principally the army, have failed to defeat Boko Haram militarily, yet there is no diplomatic or other initiative underway. Nor have jihadi groups signaled any willingness to talk. In what may be a related development, soldiers are resigning in large numbers from the Nigerian army, leading at least in part to the National Assembly's demand that all the service chiefs resign.

Voices from the Field features contributions from scholars and practitioners highlighting new research, thinking, and approaches to development, diplomacy and security challenges. This post is authored by Dr. Natalia Kanem, Executive Director of the United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA).

As the coronavirus pandemic increases the need for aid around the world, donors are facing tough choices over whether to continue helping vulnerable populations abroad or focus their attention at home.

Hundreds of thousands of Rohingya, a Muslim ethnic minority group, have fled persecution in Myanmar’s Rakhine State, fueling a historic migration crisis.