European Union

Two court cases have begun against former high-ranking politicians from the country's two main parties: the ruling Socialist PSOE and the conservative Partido Popular (PP). The charges include embezzlement of public funds and covering up illegal party financing. The national media see the scandals less as isolated criminal cases and more as a flaw in the political system.

Le chemin vers le cessez-le-feu de deux semaines avec l'Iran a peut-être fondamentalement modifié la façon dont le reste du monde perçoit les États-Unis.

Entre Viktor Orbán et le « boss » des Serbes de Bosnie-Herzégovine, Milorad Dodik, ce n'est pas de l'amour, c'est de la rage. Les deux hommes partagent tout : le nationalisme, la suspicion envers Bruxelles et l'amitié de Moscou. Et surtout la volonté de peser sur les équilibres des Balkans.

- Articles / RS sécession, Bosnie-Herzégovine, Une - Diaporama - En premier, Orban Balkans, Relations internationales, Economie, Courrier des Balkans, Une - Diaporama

La Turquie se prépare à accueillir le prochain sommet de l'Otan en juillet et souhaite renforcer son rôle au sein de l'Alliance atlantique. Cet engagement croissant ne fait pas consensus dans la société. La gauche appelle même à la quitter.

- Articles / Turquie, Courrier des Balkans, Défense, police et justice, Guerre Moyen Orient, Une - Diaporama

By James Alix Michel
VICTORIA, Seychelles, Apr 8 2026 (IPS)

We live in a century of extraordinary achievement.

Humanity has split the atom, mapped the genome, and sent astronauts to the Moon, with plans now underway to reach Mars. Our knowledge has expanded, our tools have become more powerful, and our capacity to shape the world around us exceeds anything previous generations could have imagined. We communicate instantaneously across continents, diagnose diseases earlier, monitor climate patterns in real time, and design artificial intelligences that can aid in everything from medicine to climate modelling.

James Alix Michel

And yet, for all this advancement, we are caught in a troubling paradox.

We possess the means to protect our planet, restore degraded ecosystems, and build a future that is regenerative and sustainable. The Earth still holds enough resources to feed, shelter, and nourish every person on it.

The science is clear, the solutions are known, and the pathways are increasingly understood. We know how to phase out the most damaging fossil fuels, how to design circular economies, and how to restore forests and oceans on a large scale. The question is not whether we can heal, but whether we choose to.

Instead of using this knowledge to nurture life, we spend trillions on weapons, war, and systems of domination. We continue to refine instruments of destruction with the same ingenuity that once helped us survive as hunter gatherers.

From spears and arrows to missiles and nuclear arsenals, technology has evolved far faster than our moral imagination. The same species that can design satellites and decode life itself is also capable of perfecting the means to erase itself. We have turned our curiosity into a danger when it is not paired with humility.
War has become normalised. We export violence beyond our borders, fuel conflicts in distant lands, and justify the dehumanisation of others in the name of power, ideology, or fear.

In doing so, we risk losing sight of what it means to be human: to care, to share, to protect, and to build together. Our intelligence has grown, but our ethics have often lagged behind. We have impressive control over external environments, yet we struggle to govern our own impulses—greed, resentment, the desire for domination over cooperation.

We still behave as if survival depends on conquest, as though strength is measured by the capacity to destroy rather than by the courage to cooperate.

In that sense, humanity is trapped between two identities: one capable of profound creativity and compassion, and another still governed by ancient instincts of greed, lust for power, and tribal dominance.

We have evolved in technology, but not always in spirit. We built institutions meant to protect rights and distribute justice, yet those very institutions are often weaponised or hollowed out by self interest.

The Earth is still rich enough to nourish us all. The ocean still teems with life, the land can still grow food, and the air can still be cleansed. We have the tools to live in balance, instead of in excess. We can choose renewable energy systems that do not poison our skies, farming practices that restore soil instead of depleting it, and urban designs that integrate nature instead of paving it over.

The problem is not scarcity, but choices—choices that prioritise short term gain over long term survival, accumulation over equity, and fear over trust.

If humanity is to truly evolve, it must move beyond the old logic of domination and embrace a new ethic of stewardship. This is not a soft or sentimental vision. It is a hard, practical necessity if we want civilisation to continue.

Stewardship means recognising that power is not only the ability to control, but the responsibility to protect. It means designing economies that reward regeneration, not extraction; diplomacy that favours mediation over militarisation; and education systems that nurture empathy as much as efficiency.

Progress cannot be measured only by how far we can reach into space, or how fast we can compute. It must be measured by how well we can care for the planet and for one another. It must be measured by how peacefully we resolve our differences, how fairly we share resources, and how seriously we protect the rights of future generations.

True progress is the transition from a species that merely adapts to its environment, to one that consciously shapes it for the benefit of all life, not just a privileged few.

We have not lost our humanity. We have only forgotten it.
The challenge now is to rediscover it—not as a romantic ideal, but as a practical imperative.

In a world capable of such beauty, creativity, and connection, the only true insanity is the choice to destroy rather than to heal, to dominate rather than to share, and to fear rather than to love.

After all, the moon and the stars will remain, no matter how we choose; what is at stake is whether we will still be worthy of the Earth we were given.

That is the real test of our century. And it is one we must pass together.

IPS UN Bureau

 

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Written by Antonio Vale.

Introduction

The past few years have seen considerable interest in generative AI, particularly large language models (LLMs). This has translated into massive investment amounting to hundreds of billions of euros per year, especially in the US, in AI data centres designed around Graphics Processing Unit (GPU)-based platforms. Such breakneck expansion is increasingly running into constraints, particularly with regard to electricity availability.

Running AI models requires large amounts of power (as well as water, much of which is used to produce the electricity required), with data centres responsible for 1.5 % of global electricity consumption (2 % in the EU) and growing at 12 % annually. Moreover, they are often geographically concentrated, for example in Ireland, where they account for over 20 % of electricity consumption. Future scenarios suggest that this demand could continue to increase rapidly, although this should be taken with the caveat that investment in AI might be a bubble, LLMs may be supplanted by other models with different compute needs, and chip design innovations beyond GPUs may provide energy efficiency gains.

This situation has given rise to the idea of deploying compute in space to take advantage of the free, abundant solar energy. Originally focused on orbital processing of observational data and space mission support, the concept has rapidly evolved into the deployment of AI data centres in orbit to service ground-based needs. Recently, the strongest push has come from the US, with the merger between SpaceX and xAI linked to a request to put a million satellites in orbit, as well as interest from Google with project Suncatcher, and startups such as Starcloud and Axiom. Meanwhile, China has also launched pilot satellites intended to be the first in a future constellation, and in the EU the Horizon Europe-supported ASCEND project has concluded a feasibility study, aiming towards an operational system from 2030.

Potential impacts and developments

Launch costs represent a key constraint for any orbital infrastructure. The introduction of reusable rockets has led to a considerable decrease in recent times, to around several thousand euros per kilo of payload. This reduction is expected to continue thanks to improved heavy rockets and reusable second stages, with the European Space Agency (ESA) aiming for €280/kg with a new super-heavy lift launcher. Most ideas for future space data centres would involve either large constellations or modular construction, allowing build-up to occur over time. Even so, this would require a very high launch cadence, with a complete data centre likely needing upwards of one hundred launches, followed by a significant proportion yearly to replace satellites at end of life; this compares to around 300 space launches overall in 2025.

The main attraction of placing data centres in space is solar power: for objects located above the atmosphere, insolation (incoming solar radiation) can be several times greater than on the ground. The ideal choice would be a terminator sun-synchronous orbit, allowing satellites to keep pace with the dawn/dusk line and ensuring constant solar exposure on one side, while keeping the other dark to assist with cooling. Solar panels would need to be very large – up to a gargantuan 4 km per side, as envisaged by Starcloud for a 5 GW data centre; a small satellite with the equivalent of a server rack might make do with a more manageable 60 m2 and 28 kW, as deployed on the International Space Station (ISS). Newer thin-film solar panel technology may help keep the weight down.

If power is the main advantage, cooling is possibly the major challenge. Although space is cold, it is also a vacuum, meaning cooling can only take place via radiative emission. This can be achieved by coupling a coolant loop (the ISS uses ammonia) with large radiators pointing towards deep space, which would be of comparable size to the solar panels but considerably heavier. The spacecraft’s cooling system is particularly vulnerable: any rupture, for example from a meteoroid strike, can cause coolant loss and damage the electronic systems. Given radiative cooling scales as the fourth power of temperature, further advances may come from lighter radiators running at higher temperatures. The other main concern in orbit is radiation, which can cause random bit flips and whose impact over time can lead to a degradation of performance or malfunction. Recent work from Google and Starcloud, which has deployed a NVIDIA H100 chip in orbit, has given promising indications, but fault tolerance, error correction, redundancy (deliberate duplication of critical components or systems), and shielding are all required.

Any assembly or maintenance would pose a significant challenge. Heavy AI workloads can lead to relatively high chip failure rates, which, added to radiation effects, imply short lifespans of a few years. Depending on the concept, this would require redundancy or satellite replacement, with a weight or cost penalty, or else robotic maintenance in orbit, which still needs further development. Finally, there is the issue of communications. Large amounts of data from the ground, to be used for training, may simply be physically carried by ‘data shuttles‘, while server-side communications, needing high data rates, could use optical communication between satellites, in turn implying close proximity. Google’s plans, for example, envisage satellites hundreds of metres apart. With space debris and collisions being a critical issue, this would represent a major challenge in terms of the coordination of collision avoidance manoeuvres, which may be frequent given the sizes of the constellations being proposed.

Anticipatory policymaking

Deploying data centres in space poses important challenges, but does not appear to face insurmountable technical barriers and might be feasible even with current technology. The main hurdle is rather economic, with a mildly optimistic estimate placing near-future costs around three times those on the ground, although opinions are divided on whether such optimism is justified or not. Further innovation could help, with the evolution of launch costs a key determinant. This may lead to interesting synergies, with further technological and skills development benefiting other potential uses of space such as space-based solar power.

The current legal framework leaves space data centres in a grey zone: the United Nations’ Outer Space Treaty establishes no sovereignty in outer space, with launch states (a concept that presents its own issues) instead bearing responsibility and liability for space activities. Drafted in the 1960s, this treaty lacks explicit provisions regarding data. Article VIII of the treaty refers to jurisdiction over a space ‘object, and over any personnel thereof’, which has prompted some stakeholders to urge regulators to explicitly consider the concept of a ‘digital flag state’. Furthermore, relevant laws and treaties relying on the territorial location of data may require clarification. Examples include the GDPR‘s concept of transfers of personal data to third countries and the recently signed UN Convention against Cybercrime, which includes ships and aircraft but not satellites under its jurisdictional provisions. Likewise, legislation dealing with space activities may need to account for considerable processing of data originating from the ground rather than space. Extending the definition of space-based data and primary providers of space-based data in the Space Act, for example, could offer additional clarity. The overall situation is complex, involving potential multiple layers of overlapping jurisdiction. In the future, in-orbit assembly and AI agents risk further increasing this complexity. These issues highlight that extraterritorial application, as conceived in the GDPR or the Space Act, will be a crucial factor in the future regulation of space data centres.

The potential scale of orbital data centres is also important to consider. A 1 GW data centre, similar in scale to the largest under construction on the ground, could require a total payload upwards of 10 000 tons, or over three times the total payload mass launched in 2025. This risks potential infrastructure bottlenecks, such as the limited availability of launch facilities or liquid oxygen. It also raises sustainability questions, given that lifetime emissions may be larger than on the ground. Furthermore, the pollution of the upper atmosphere that would be caused by de-orbiting large numbers of end-of-life satellites is still poorly understood. Finally, it poses a critical, geopolitically relevant question regarding orbital congestion, as international regulation of slots in low Earth orbit is currently only done indirectly through radio spectrum assignment by the International Telecommunications Union, generally on a first-come, first-served basis.

What ifs are two-page-long publications about new or emerging technologies aiming to accurately summarise the scientific state-of-the art in an accessible and engaging manner. They further consider the impacts such technologies may have – on society, the environment and the economy, among others – and how the European Parliament may react to them. As such, they do not aim to be and cannot be prescriptive, but serve primarily as background material for the Members and staff of the European Parliament to assist them in their parliamentary work.

Read this ‘at a glance’ note on ‘What if AI data centres were put in space?‘ in the Think Tank pages of the European Parliament.

Donald Trump Junior était en visite mardi à Banja Luka, où il a rencontré de hauts responsables de la Republika Srpska. L'année dernière, le fils du président américain s'était rendu à Belgrade pour une réunion avec le président Vučić, mais qui paye ces voyages ?

- Le fil de l'Info / Bosnie-Herzégovine, RS sécession, USA Balkans, Courrier des Balkans

Perspectives by ELIAMEP experts on Hungary’s forthcoming elections, analyzing their political significance and examining how the outcome may influence future developments within the European Union, as well as its internal balance and policy direction.

Dauer des Videos : 90'

Haftungsausschluss : Die Verdolmetschung der Debatten soll die Kommunikation erleichtern, sie stellt jedoch keine authentische Aufzeichnung der Debatten dar. Authentisch sind nur die Originalfassungen der Reden bzw. ihre überprüften schriftlichen Übersetzungen.
Quelle : © Europäische Union, 2026 - EP

Written by Marie Lecerf.

The Roma are Europe’s largest ethnic minority. A significant number of Roma people live in very poor socio-economic conditions. The social exclusion, discrimination and segregation they face are mutually reinforcing. Their restricted access to education and difficulties entering the labour market result in low income and poor health compared with non-Roma people.

Since the mid-1990s, the EU has been stressing the need for better Roma inclusion. In 2011, an EU framework for national Roma integration strategies up to 2020 was launched to tackle their socio-economic exclusion and discrimination. This was followed in October 2020 by the EU Roma strategic framework for equality, inclusion and participation 2020-2030, complemented by the Council’s March 2021 recommendation promoting national strategic frameworks and the October 2023 European Council conclusions on desegregated housing and segregated settlements. The EU continues to support Member States through structural and investment funds with the 2021-2027 Common Provisions Regulation emphasising alignment with European Semester recommendations and the European Pillar of Social Rights.

In parallel, the EU anti-racism action plan 2020-2025, succeeded by the EU anti-racism strategy 2026-2030, strengthened enforcement of anti-discrimination law, while the Fundamental Rights Agency’s Roma survey 2024 confirms modest progress but warns of shortfalls against 2030 targets in poverty, housing, employment, education and discrimination.

Issues relating to the promotion of democratic values and practices, as well as economic, social and cultural rights for Roma people, have received particular attention from civil society organisations. The European Parliament has consistently advocated for Roma inclusion since the 1990s, with recent resolutions and debates targeting implementation gaps, antigypsyism, child segregation, women’s rights and the new anti-racism strategy.

This is a further update of a briefing originally published in May 2021; the previous update was in March 2025.

Read the complete briefing on ‘Understanding EU action on Roma inclusion‘ in the Think Tank pages of the European Parliament.

Depuis le vote de la loi instituant le poste de vice-président, le débat fait rage au sein de la classe politique au Cameroun. Certains parlent de ''coup d'Etat constitutionnel'' et une volonté de ''transmission de gré à gré du pouvoir politique''.

Zu den neuesten Entwicklungen im Iran-Krieg und den wirtschaftlichen Folgen eine Einschätzung von Marcel Fratzscher, Präsident des Deutschen Instituts für Wirtschaftsforschung (DIW Berlin):

Der Waffenstillstand ist ein wichtiger Schritt, markiert aber noch keineswegs ein Ende des Konflikts. Eine erneute Zuspitzung ist möglich. Die wirtschaftlichen Schäden sind bereits jetzt erheblich, und auch die stark verflochtene deutsche Volkswirtschaft wird die Folgen deutlich zu spüren bekommen.

Es ist daher richtig, dass die Bundesregierung weiterhin über Entlastungen diskutiert. Angesichts der hohen Preissteigerungen besteht nach wie vor Handlungsbedarf. Um Haushalte schnell, wirksam und sozial ausgewogen zu entlasten, sind direkte finanzielle Transfers – ähnlich wie 2022 mit der Energiekostenpauschale – das geeignete Instrument. Pauschale Maßnahmen wie eine Ausweitung der Pendlerpauschale oder eine Senkung der Kfz-Steuer wären hingegen wenig treffsicher und sozial unausgewogen, da sie vor allem höhere Einkommen begünstigen.

Weitaus gravierender als steigende Spritpreise ist derzeit der Anstieg der Lebensmittelpreise, der breite Bevölkerungsschichten trifft und insbesondere Haushalte mit geringen Einkommen stark belastet. Eine Senkung der Mehrwertsteuer auf Lebensmittel wäre daher ein sinnvoller Ansatz, um gezielt zu entlasten.

Gleichzeitig sollte sich die Politik nicht auf kurzfristige Maßnahmen beschränken. Die aktuellen Entwicklungen unterstreichen, wie wichtig es ist, strukturelle Abhängigkeiten zu reduzieren und die Transformation voranzutreiben. Die Bundesregierung sollte daher Anreize setzen, den Verbrauch fossiler Energieträger zu senken. Maßnahmen wie ein Tempolimit, autofreie Sonntage oder eine stärkere Verlagerung auf den öffentlichen Nahverkehr können hierzu beitragen. Entscheidend wird sein, kurzfristige Entlastung mit langfristigen Reformen zu verbinden.

In 2006, Amina Saida was only two years old when her parents moved to the Dadaab refugee camp in northern Kenya, near the border with Somalia. The Dadaab refugee complex was established in 1991, when refugees fleeing the civil war in Somalia began crossing the border into Kenya. Over the years, thousands of Kenyan ethnic […]

The Transport Committee has backed digital vehicle registration certificates and compulsory sharing of mileage data and inspection results, to cut red tape and combat fraud.
Committee on Transport and Tourism

Source : © European Union, 2026 - EP

The Transport Committee has backed digital vehicle registration certificates and compulsory sharing of mileage data and inspection results, to cut red tape and combat fraud.
Committee on Transport and Tourism

Source : © European Union, 2026 - EP

Cette trêve provisoire intervient plus d'un mois après que les États-Unis et Israël ont lancé des attaques coordonnées contre l'Iran.

ELIAMEP is launching a new collection of Policy Papers titled The Iran reckoning: Four essays on a war the West was not ready for on the war on Iran, aiming to deliver concise and rigorous analysis of a critical contemporary geopolitical crisis. The papers examine the conflict’s strategic, legal, and economic dimensions, while assessing its implications for regional stability and the international order. 

The first policy paper of this collection; titled  “The bill will come due: The short, medium and long-term consequences of the Iran war- From oil shock to strategic realignment” argues that while the immediate energy shock has captured global attention, the conflict is generating deeper, structural damage to global food security, energy geography, and the Western security architecture that will persist for decades.

The 2026 Iran War has triggered a structural erosion of the global order, beginning with the immediate suspension of maritime insurance in the Strait of Hormuz that disrupted 20% of global petroleum, one-fifth of LNG trade, and one-third of the world’s seaborne fertiliser shipments. While Brent crude’s peak at $126 per barrel dominated headlines, there is a critical “analytical gap” regarding an impending food security crisis in the Global South, where the loss of agricultural inputs will manifest as compromised harvests and potential regional recessions within 6-12 months. This conflict has fundamentally compromised the 50-year “energy-for-security” compact between the U.S. and Gulf states, leading regional monarchies to perceive Washington more as a source of unpredictability than as a protector, and to accelerate “multi-alignment” security strategies and partnerships with China, India, and Russia.

• Immediate economic and logistics destabilisation. The conflict triggered a collapse of the maritime insurance and logistics systems in the Persian Gulf. Brent crude peaked at $126 per barrel, and while the release of 400 million barrels from strategic reserves provided a temporary cushion, these are “one-use buffers”.
• The fertiliser-food crisis nexus. A critical analytical gap exists regarding the disruption of agricultural inputs. Because agricultural cycles are inflexible, the current disruption will manifest as compromised harvests in 4-6 months and acute food insecurity in 6-12 months. Policy responses must prioritise emergency financing and the creation of strategic fertiliser reserves to mitigate recessions.
• Strategic realignment in the Gulf. The war has fundamentally compromised the energy-for-security compact that governed US-Gulf relations. Consequently, Gulf monarchies are accelerating multi-alignment strategies to secure strategic predictability.
• Long-­term structural shifts. The conflict is driving a permanent recomposition of global energy geography. Additionally, the crisis has transformed decarbonisation from an environmental objective into a strategic imperative to eliminate dependency.
• Policy recommendations for Europe. It is imperative that the EU links reconstruction funding to strategic conditionality to ensure they do not finance a stabilisation effort shaped by external actors without securing meaningful influence over the resulting regional order.

Read here in pdf the Policy paper by Dr Andréas C. Hatzidiakos, Research Fellow, ELIAMEP; Co-director of OPEWI (Europe’s War Institute).

WITHIN DAYS OF THE CONFLICT’S OPENING PHASE, the Joint War Committee[1] designated the Persian Gulf a high-risk zone, effectively suspending standard marine insurance coverage for commercial vessels and triggering force majeure clauses across thousands of shipping contracts. Tanker operators declined to route through an uninsured conflict zone. Charter rates for available tonnage outside the Gulf spiked to record levels. The commodity flows transiting the Strait of Hormuz – approximately 20 percent of global petroleum consumption and one-fifth of global LNG trade[2], alongside one-third of the world’s traded fertilisers[3] – were disrupted within days, not weeks.

The energy market response generated the headlines. Brent crude reached a peak of $126 per barrel – a level not seen since the 2008 energy crisis – representing a near-50 percent increase from pre-conflict levels within the space of four weeks, carrying immediate political visibility. What received far less attention was the second category of cargo: the ammonium nitrate, urea, and phosphate shipments[4] that underpin agricultural supply chains from South Asia to Sub-Saharan Africa[5], and whose disruption operates on a timeline measured not in trading days but in growing seasons. Less visible still is a third category of consequence – one that will not appear in any commodity price index – the accelerating reconfiguration of Gulf security partnerships. When a protective power becomes a source of instability, the states that depend on it do not wait for the conflict to end before drawing conclusions.

This is the analytical gap this article addresses. The most visible consequences of the 2026 Iran war are severe because they are immediate, tangible and measurable by the average consumer. They are not the most structurally significant. The deeper damage is accumulating in sectors that do not generate equivalent political urgency, at a pace the standard instruments of crisis management are not calibrated to track. The full cost of this conflict will not be presented for months – in some dimensions, for years. When it is, the figure will substantially exceed current estimates.

The immediate shock: energy, markets, and the limits of strategic reserves

The energy market response to the partial closure of the Strait of Hormuz was swift, severe, and entirely consistent with pre-conflict scenario modelling that had been available to governments for over a decade. Brent crude rose above $100 per barrel within days of the conflict’s opening phase. Gulf state oil production – representing approximately one-third of global supply – was immediately disrupted: not primarily through the physical destruction of extraction infrastructure, but through the rapid collapse of the insurance, logistics, and maritime crewing systems on which tanker operations depend. War-risk premiums rendered routine commercial voyages economically inviable within hours of the first engagements. The consequence was a de facto market-imposed embargo, operative before any formal blockade was declared.

The coordinated release of strategic petroleum reserves – approximately 400 million barrels mobilised through American and International Energy Agency frameworks – provided a temporary price cushion and a degree of political cover for affected governments. The limits of this instrument, however, are structural and must be acknowledged clearly: the strategic reserve is a one-use buffer, not a solution. Its drawdown buys weeks, not months. The only genuine resolution to the supply disruption is physical – the reopening of the strait to commercial traffic – and that outcome remains, as of this writing, contingent on a political or military resolution that has yet to materialise.

The immediate shock, considered in isolation, remains within the range of policy management. The problem lies in what follows.

The financial consequences extend well beyond the energy sector. The risk premium now embedded in global asset pricing – the persistent upward pressure reflecting the possibility of further escalation – will not dissolve with a ceasefire announcement. It becomes structural. Institutional investors are repricing long-term infrastructure exposure across the Gulf region. Shipping companies are restructuring route networks and procurement chains. Insurance markets are recalibrating their political-risk models for all Gulf-adjacent maritime corridors. These adjustments, once institutionalised, are not easily reversed. The immediate shock, considered in isolation, remains within the range of policy management. The problem lies in what follows.

The propagation effect: food, fertiliser, and the forgotten supply chain

The Persian Gulf is not solely an oil corridor. This fact – well-documented in commodity trade literature and agricultural economics – has received insufficient attention in the strategic commentary surrounding this conflict.

Α disruption to transit that begins today translates into compromised harvests within four to six months, and into a measurable food price crisis in global commodity markets within six to twelve months.

Gulf states account for approximately half of globally traded urea exports and roughly 30 percent of globally traded ammonia exports. Collectively, approximately one-third of global seaborne fertiliser trade – spanning nitrogen, phosphate, and sulphur compounds – transits the Strait of Hormuz[6]. The agricultural supply chain operates on a timeline that admits no flexibility: fertilisers must be applied at defined intervals within the growing cycle. A disruption to transit that begins today translates into compromised harvests within four to six months, and into a measurable food price crisis in global commodity markets within six to twelve months. The conflict began within that window. The agricultural consequences are already in motion.

The differential impact across economies is stark and deeply inequitable. For energy-exporting nations – the United States, Australia, Norway, Canada – the war represents a significant but manageable cost increase. For energy-importing emerging economies, the compounding effect of elevated energy prices and fertiliser scarcity constitutes a structural crisis. India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, and large portions of Sub-Saharan Africa and Southeast Asia face the simultaneous deterioration of energy affordability, agricultural input availability, and rising food prices[7]. Sub-Saharan Africa is particularly exposed: over 90 percent of the fertilisers used across the region are imported, and maise – the primary staple crop across much of the continent – is acutely dependent on nitrogen inputs now unavailable at predictable cost. For households already operating near subsistence margins, this convergence does not represent a policy challenge. It represents acute food insecurity. At the macroeconomic level, several of these economies face the conditions for recession.

By that point, the window for preventive action will have closed.

The markets and governments of developed economies are currently pricing in an energy shock. They have not yet adequately priced in a food shock. That misjudgement carries significant policy risk. The necessary responses – emergency agricultural financing for the most exposed economies, alternative supply routing for nitrogenous fertilisers, and the development of strategic fertiliser reserve mechanisms comparable to existing energy reserves – require lead times that the political calendar is not currently accommodating. The harvest data, when it arrives in autumn 2026, will confirm what the supply chain data already indicates. By that point, the window for preventive action will have closed.

The reshaping of Gulf security architecture

A consequential conversation is underway in Riyadh, Abu Dhabi, Doha, Kuwait, Muscat and Manama. It concerns whether the security architecture that has governed the Gulf for five decades continues to serve the interests of the states it was designed to protect. This conversation deserves more serious analytical attention than it has received.

The Gulf states did not choose this war. Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Qatar, Kuwait, Bahrain and Oman are hosting American Western military assets, providing forward logistical infrastructure, and absorbing Iranian retaliatory strikes – against their desalination facilities, their port infrastructure, and the energy corridors their national economies depend upon – as a direct consequence of a decision taken in Washington without their prior consultation. The implicit architecture underpinning the US-Gulf relationship has, for five decades, rested on a mutual compact: Gulf states provided the United States with territorial access and preferential energy arrangements; in return, they received security guarantees against external aggression, principally from Iran. That compact was institutionalised through a dense basing architecture: Al Udeid Air Base in Qatar – CENTCOM’s forward headquarters, housing approximately 10,000 troops and the largest American installation in the Middle East – the Fifth Fleet headquarters in Bahrain, Camp Arifjan in Kuwait, and Al Dhafra Air Base in the UAE[8].

The United States is not the only Western power to secure a military foothold in the region – though the nature of those arrangements differs. France and the United Kingdom pursued explicitly contractual defence partnerships, negotiated as bilateral agreements rather than implicit strategic compacts. France has maintained a permanent base in Abu Dhabi (Camp de la Paix) since 2009, its first permanent overseas military installation in five decades, established under a formal Defence Cooperation Agreement with the UAE[9]. The United Kingdom formalised its regional presence through the 2019 UK-Oman Joint Defence Agreement, operating a Joint Logistics Support Base at Duqm – deliberately positioned outside the Strait of Hormuz – alongside long-standing training arrangements across the Gulf[10]. These European partnerships were built on treaty frameworks with defined mutual obligations, not on the implicit energy-for-security logic that has characterised the American relationship with the Gulf. That distinction now carries considerable weight. The implicit American compact functioned as long as the United States was perceived by its partners as a net provider of stability – a protective power whose presence reduced regional risk. That perception has been fundamentally altered by the 2026 Iran War. Washington is no longer seen, from Riyadh or Abu Dhabi, primarily as a guarantor. It is seen as a variable – a source of unpredictability whose strategic decisions can destabilise the region as readily as they can protect it.

The gap between the stated American commitment to Gulf stability and the observable consequences of American strategic decisions is now too large to paper over.

This contradiction has not appeared suddenly. Its roots are traceable across several decades of American Middle East policy. What the 2026 conflict has done is render it impossible to manage through the customary instruments of alliance diplomacy – reassurance language, bilateral security memoranda, arms sales, and summit-level consultations. The gap between the stated American commitment to Gulf stability and the observable consequences of American strategic decisions is now too large to paper over.

When the entity responsible for managing a principal risk becomes itself a primary source of that risk, rational actors diversify.

The logic that follows is not ideological. It is actuarial. When the entity responsible for managing a principal risk becomes itself a primary source of that risk, rational actors diversify. They do not necessarily abandon the relationship – the American security architecture remains too deeply embedded, and the alternatives too immature, for a clean break[11]. But they hedge, they build redundancy, and they cultivate alternatives. This is precisely what the Gulf monarchies have been doing, with increasing deliberateness, for the better part of a decade.

The 2023 Saudi-Iran normalisation agreement brokered by Beijing was not a rupture with Washington nor a diplomatic anomaly. It was a deliberate signal from Riyadh that the kingdom was prepared to pursue strategic relationships outside the framework of the American alliance architecture when doing so served its interests. It is a premium paid on a new insurance policy. The acceleration of defence partnerships with France, the United Kingdom, India, and China is not anti-American sentiment. It is portfolio management. Beijing does not impose governance conditions on its partners. It does not threaten sovereign wealth funds with secondary sanctions. It does not initiate regional military campaigns without prior consultation with affected neighbouring states. From the perspective of Gulf leadership calculating long-term regime and state security, Chinese partnership offers an attribute that American partnership has demonstrably ceased to provide: strategic predictability. China’s strategic objective is not to replace the United States as security guarantor – a role for which it currently lacks the regional military infrastructure – but to entrench itself as an indispensable defence-industrial partner, driving Gulf domestic manufacturing capacity and technology transfer while reducing Western leverage.

The architecture of multi-alignment – systematic hedging across major power relationships – was already a feature of Gulf strategic practice before this conflict. It will accelerate significantly in its aftermath.

Russia maintains active military and commercial relationships across the region. India, as the world’s most populous state and a significant energy importer with deep historical ties to Gulf economies, represents a partnership of growing importance to Gulf diversification strategies[12]. India has pursued a deliberate strategy of defence deepening with Gulf states, driven by its own energy dependency and its growing strategic competition with China[13]. At the same time, Pakistan is also positioning itself, by backing Saudi Arabia through a mutual defence cooperation agreement signed in September 2025, featuring a NATO-like article 5 collective defence clause. Turkey, formally a NATO member, has pursued its own Gulf relationships with a degree of strategic independence that pre-existing alliance frameworks have proven unable to constrain. The architecture of multi-alignment – systematic hedging across major power relationships – was already a feature of Gulf strategic practice before this conflict. It will accelerate significantly in its aftermath.

Water security has emerged as an underestimated strategic variable. The desalination facilities of the Arabian Peninsula supply the majority of drinking water for the populations of Kuwait, Qatar, Bahrain, the UAE, Saudi Arabia and Oman[14]. These installations are coastal, energy-intensive, and – as demonstrated in the current conflict – targetable by Iranian-affiliated forces operating with conventional munitions and drone systems. For states in which water supply depends overwhelmingly on desalination, the military targeting of this infrastructure is not a peripheral concern. It represents a direct threat to population welfare and, consequently, to state stability. The exposure of this vulnerability under the conditions of the American security umbrella will not be readily forgotten.

The Hormuz dilemma facing Gulf governments is structurally acute. Their dependence on the strait – for oil export revenues, for food imports, for the full range of consumer and industrial goods their economies require – is as great as that of any state on earth. And yet the political constraints operating on Gulf governments prevent any public acknowledgement of this dependency in the context of the current conflict, for fear of being perceived as taking a position against Washington or in favour of Tehran. Gulf states are, in effect, trapped in a conflict they did not initiate, whose costs they are absorbing, and whose resolution they cannot publicly advocate. Strategic entrapment of this kind, sustained over time, generates deep institutional resentment. And institutional resentment, in the strategic context, becomes the precondition for realignment.

The United States may succeed in its military objectives against Iran. If that outcome is achieved while permanently eroding the confidence of Gulf partner states in American reliability as a security provider, the strategic ledger will record a tactical success and a generational loss.

The long-term recomposition: energy routes, the transition, and American credibility

The structural consequences of the Hormuz disruption extend well beyond the Gulf region and will prove resistant to reversal once the underlying investment decisions have been made.

Asian energy consumers – China, India, Japan, and South Korea, which collectively absorb over 80 percent of the crude oil and LNG transiting the strait – are not adopting a passive posture while awaiting the strait’s reopening. China is accelerating overland pipeline imports from Russia and Central Asia, and has formally incorporated the Power of Siberia-2 pipeline through Mongolia into its 2026–2030 strategic development plan[15]. India’s four major state energy companies – Indian Oil, Bharat Petroleum, Hindustan Petroleum, and GAIL – are in active negotiations with Angola’s Sonangol for alternative LPG and LNG supply, while simultaneously deepening procurement agreements with Australian producers[16], whose delivery times to Indian ports are less than a third of those from the United States. Japan and South Korea signed a bilateral LNG cooperation and supply-chain resilience pact in March 2026, coordinating alternative sourcing and reducing single-supplier exposure, while Japan accelerates nuclear restarts as a structural hedge[17]. These are not emergency contingency measures. They are capital investment decisions with twenty-year operational horizons. Once the physical infrastructure is built and the long-term supply contracts executed, the strategic geography of global energy does not revert to its prior configuration simply because a ceasefire has been reached in the Persian Gulf.

The position of the United States in this dynamic is characterised by a sharp and consequential divergence between short-term commercial gain and long-term strategic cost.

The position of the United States in this dynamic is characterised by a sharp and consequential divergence between short-term commercial gain and long-term strategic cost. As the world’s largest oil and gas producer, the United States benefits commercially from elevated crude prices driven by Gulf supply disruption. American shale exports are reaching markets at a significant premium. In the near term, Washington is in the position of a major supplier monetising a crisis whose conditions it helped to create. For some constituencies within the current administration, this represents an acceptable or even desirable strategic outcome.

The longer-term calculation, however, runs in the opposite direction. The credibility of American maritime leadership – the foundational proposition that has underpinned the international trading order since 1945 – rests on the premise that the United States is both willing and able to maintain freedom of navigation in international waterways. The 2026 Hormuz crisis has placed that premise under serious strain. Not because of any demonstrated deficiency in American naval capability, but because the United States is now perceived, across a significant portion of the international community, as an actor capable of precipitating the maritime crisis it formally claims to prevent. This perception – once established in the institutional memory of governments, port authorities, shipping companies, and commodity markets – is not readily reversed by subsequent reassurances.

The energy transition is likely to emerge as one of the more durable unintended structural consequences of this conflict.

The energy transition is likely to emerge as one of the more durable unintended structural consequences of this conflict. European and Asian policymakers have, for over a decade, framed the decarbonisation agenda in predominantly environmental and climate terms. The political coalitions required to sustain that argument have been difficult to construct and prone to erosion under short-term economic pressure. The 2026 Hormuz disruption introduces a new and politically far more powerful argument into the policy calculus: dependency on Gulf hydrocarbons is a strategic liability, not merely an environmental one. The political consensus required to accelerate investment in renewable capacity, nuclear energy, grid storage, and demand-side efficiency – a consensus that has been frustratingly incomplete in the face of energy sector lobbying and short-term industrial interests – is now available in a form that no previous policy argument had been able to generate.

What Europe must do – and is not doing

Europe will not be insulated from the consequences of this conflict by the fact of its non-participation. The migration flows, energy market repricing, nuclear proliferation risk, regional fragmentation, and hybrid security threats that this war is generating do not terminate at the EU’s external borders. They will manifest in European capitals regardless of the decisions, or failures of decision, made in Brussels, Berlin, and Paris.

The G7 Foreign Ministers’ meeting of 26-27 March 2026 produced language, from several European participants, invoking the concept of a “new world order”. The impulse behind this formulation is understandable – the scale of the strategic disruption underway does carry the character of rupture. The formulation is, however, analytically imprecise in ways that have policy consequences. The foundational architecture established in 1945 – the United Nations Charter, the prohibition on aggressive war as an instrument of state policy, the principle that international peace constitutes a common good subject to collective security (not defence) – has not been formally abrogated. What has changed is something more specific: the recognition, now no longer deniable, that while the strategic tempo in international affairs continues to be set by Washington, Washington’s tempo is no longer reliably aligned with European interests, strategic priorities, or conceptions of international order.

Europe must now make choices it has postponed for a generation.

This is not, in fact, a new world. It is the world as it has been for a considerable period – one that European institutions and governments have consistently chosen not to engage with in its full complexity, because doing so would have required politically costly decisions about defence investment, strategic industrial policy, and the development of a European strategic autonomy and capacity. What this conflict has done is eliminate the space for continued deferral. The comfort of strategic ambiguity is no longer available. Europe must now make choices it has postponed for a generation.

The post-conflict reconstruction phase will represent the point at which European leverage is most concentrated and most actionable.

The post-conflict reconstruction phase will represent the point at which European leverage is most concentrated and most actionable. The economic reconstruction of a post-conflict Iran – or the stabilisation of a fragmenting one – will require financial frameworks, governance architecture, sanctions relief mechanisms, and diplomatic recognition processes that only the European Union, with its combination of market scale, institutional capacity and, above all, normative credibility, can provide at the necessary level. That leverage is real. It is also conditional: it exists only to the extent that Europe arrives at the negotiating table with a coherent, unified position, a defined set of political conditions, and both the institutional and political will to link its reconstruction contribution to outcomes that serve European strategic interests.

What European institutions cannot afford is to finance, yet again, stabilisation efforts shaped by other actors’ strategic objectives without securing meaningful influence over the political outcomes those efforts are intended to produce. 

What European institutions cannot afford – and what precedent from Iraq, Afghanistan, and Libya suggests remains the default – is to finance, yet again, stabilisation efforts shaped by other actors’ strategic objectives without securing meaningful influence over the political outcomes those efforts are intended to produce. The post-conflict order of the broader Middle East and Gulf region will be the defining strategic question of the next decade. The decisions made in the coming eighteen months regarding sanctions architecture, nuclear verification, Gulf security guarantees, and the political future of Iran will shape regional order for a generation – pending resolution of the conflict. If European engagement in that process is limited to the provision of reconstruction funding without strategic conditionality, the cost will be borne by European citizens for years without a commensurate return in security, stability, or influence.

[1] The Joint War Committee (JWC) is a body of senior underwriters from Lloyd’s of London and the International Underwriting Association (IUA) that assesses maritime conflict risk globally. It publishes periodically updated “Listed Areas” – zones requiring advance notification to insurers and attracting substantially elevated war-risk premiums, often negotiated on a single-voyage basis. Its designations carry no regulatory authority but function in practice as the industry standard: when the JWC lists a zone, standard hull war-risk coverage for transiting vessels is effectively suspended, with immediate systemic consequences for commercial shipping decisions. In March 2026, the Committee extended its Listed Areas to cover the Persian Gulf and Gulf states hosting US military assets, triggering the cascade of insurance and logistics disruptions described in this article.

[2] US Energy Information Administration (EIA), “Amid Regional Conflict, the Strait of Hormuz Remains Critical Oil Chokepoint”, Today in Energy, 16/06/2025.

[3] Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, “The Other Global Crisis Stemming from the Strait of Hormuz’s Blockage”, Emissary, 12/03/2026.

[4] The three primary fertiliser categories transiting Hormuz are nitrogenous fertilisers (urea and ammonium nitrate, derived from Gulf-produced ammonia), and phosphate-based fertilisers. Gulf states collectively account for 43-49 percent of global seaborne urea exports, approximately 25-30 percent of globally traded ammonia, and a significant share of phosphate exports. South Asia and Sub-Saharan Africa are disproportionately exposed: India sources over 40 percent of its urea and the majority of its ammonia imports from the region, while Sub-Saharan Africa – where fertiliser application rates are already among the world’s lowest – depends on Gulf states for approximately 25-35 percent of total fertiliser supply.

[5] See CSIS, “Chokepoint: How the War with Iran Threatens Global Food Security”, 10/03/2026.

[6] See above: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, “The Other Global Crisis Stemming from the Strait of Hormuz’s Blockage”, Emissary, 12/03/2026.

[7] Reuters, “Which Economies Will Hurt Most from Iran War?”, 20/03/2026.

[8] Council on Foreign Relations, “U.S. Forces in the Middle East: Mapping the Military Presence”,  23/06/2025.

[9] The defence relationship between France and the United Arab Emirates is anchored in a bilateral Defence Cooperation Agreement signed on 18 January 1995 after two decades of close political and military ties. Under that agreement, France committed to the UAE’s defence in the event of external aggression, and the UAE granted France permanent military basing rights. The arrangement was formalised into a permanent military installation – Camp de la Paix, Abu Dhabi – inaugurated by President Sarkozy in May 2009. The base hosts between approximately 500 to 700 French Army, Navy, and Air Force personnel and is positioned to face the Strait of Hormuz directly, giving France a permanent operational footprint at the Gulf’s most strategically sensitive point. The partnership encompasses regular joint exercises, defence industrial cooperation – including the landmark 2021 order for 80 Rafale fighter jets, the largest single French arms export in history – and a mutual assistance clause that, in principle, obligates France to respond to a military attack on the UAE – which it did at the highest of the Hormuz crisis.

[10] The United Kingdom’s defence relationship with Oman is among the longest-standing bilateral security partnerships in the Gulf, rooted in historical ties predating Omani independence. It was substantially updated and formalised through the Joint Defence Agreement (JDA) signed in Muscat on 21 February 2019 by UK Defence Secretary Gavin Williamson and Omani Minister for Defence Affairs Badr Bin Saud, and ratified by Royal Decree 42/2019. The JDA provides the UK with long-term access to the Duqm Port Joint Logistics Support Base – a deep-water facility deliberately located south of the Strait of Hormuz, outside the primary Iranian threat envelope – and to the Omani-British Joint Training Area (OBJTA) near Duqm, enabling large-scale combined-arms exercises, armoured manoeuvres, and integrated air support training. In exchange, the UK committed £3 billion over ten years to Gulf regional security. A further annex agreement was concluded in 2023, refining access arrangements and implementation modalities. Unlike the US basing framework – which rests on an implicit energy-for-security compact – the UK-Oman arrangement is a formally ratified treaty with defined mutual obligations, placing it on a qualitatively different legal and political footing.

[11] China’s defence relationship with the Gulf has evolved from arms sales into a comprehensive strategic architecture. Saudi Arabia and the UAE both signed Comprehensive Strategic Partnership Agreements with Beijing – the UAE in 2018, Saudi Arabia in December 2022 during Xi Jinping’s state visit to Riyadh.

[12] The foundational instrument is the UAE-India Defence Cooperation Agreement (2003), which established frameworks for military training, naval cooperation, and maritime pollution control. That agreement was substantially upgraded on 19 January 2026, when UAE President Mohamed bin Zayed Al Nahyan’s state visit to New Delhi produced a bilateral Strategic Defence Partnership letter of intent, a $3 billion Indian arms procurement package, and a ten-year LNG supply contract between ADNOC Gas and Hindustan Petroleum.

[13] The rivalry between IMEC – the India-Middle East-Europe Economic Corridor, championed by the United States and its Western partners – and BRI – China’s Belt and Road Initiative, developed alongside Russia, Pakistan, and Iran – reflects a broader struggle to shape the arteries of global trade and influence. The current military conflict involving Iran risks directly threatening the strategic calculus underpinning both projects, as it disrupts Gulf energy flows and forces regional states to recalibrate their alignments. For India, such instability confirms the necessity to anchor Gulf partners – particularly the UAE and Saudi Arabia – within the IMEC framework, deepening New Delhi’s strategic and economic footprint in a region where China has also made significant inroads. Beijing, conversely, stands to lose a key BRI node and a critical energy supplier, compelling it to intensify its courtship of Gulf monarchies to preserve its supply chain resilience. As indicated by Zaki Laïdi and Yves Tiberghien in their article “Hedgers : les nouveaux non-alignés”, Le Grand Continent, 30/03/2026, over the past three decades, virtually eight countries studied (India, Indonesia, Vietnam, Brazil, Saudi Arabia, the UAE, South Africa, and Qatar) have reduced their trade dependence on the United States. All eight countries have massively expanded their trade ties with China, which is now the primary source of imports for six of them (accounting for between 17% and 39% depending on the country). This commercial shift illustrates the decline of American economic centrality to the benefit of Beijing across the Global South, a trend that the Trump administration’s trade war risks amplifying even further. The Iran war thus risks transforming the Gulf into a theatre of intensified Sino-Indian competition, where infrastructure investment, energy diplomacy, and security partnerships become instruments of geopolitical positioning.

[14] Gulf states supply over 90 percent of drinking water through desalination for Kuwait and Bahrain, 86 percent for Oman, 70 percent for Saudi Arabia, and over 99 percent of Qatar’s drinking water. See Arab Center Washington DC, “The Costs and Benefits of Water Desalination in the Gulf”, 12/04/2023.

[15] See Oxford Institute for Energy Studies, “Disruption in the Strait of Hormuz: Implications for China’s Energy Security”, Michal Meidan, March 2026. See also The Diplomat, “How the Iran War Could Boost Russia’s Role in Asia’s Energy Future”, 17/03/2026.

[16] See for example Business Today (India), “Why India Will Look at Australia, Russia over US for LNG”, 19/03/2026.

[17] See Energy Intelligence, “Gulf Crisis Exposes Japan, South Korea’s Transition Strategies”, 25/03/2026

UN lobby with images of former UN secretaries-generals. Credit: United Nations
 
With the deadline for candidates’ nominations now passed, four names are officially in the frame. Prof. Felix Dodds and Chris Spence size up the candidates.

By Felix Dodds and Chris Spence
APEX, North Carolina / SAN FRANCISCO, California, Apr 8 2026 (IPS)

Let the race begin!
April 1st was the deadline for candidates to be nominated for Secretary-General. Was it a coincidence that the deadline was April Fool’s Day? Judging by the quality of the official candidates, we suspect so.

Before looking at the four official finalists, however, it’s worth examining the state of global politics, since this will certainly have an impact on the likely outcome.

We are currently living in one of the most unstable times since the Second World War. Multilateralism is under threat and the UN is facing significant political and financial turbulence. To its credit, the UN is attempting to address these challenges through the UN80 process, which is trying to repurpose it for the years ahead. However, as the world becoming increasingly multipolar.

As the previous global order, shaped largely by the U.S. and its western allies, recedes into the rear-view mirror, there will still be plenty for a new Secretary General to do. In short, she or he will inherit an institution and a staff that is unclear about exactly what their future role should be.

One critical issue when looking at the candidates is to understand that any of the Permanent Five members of the powerful UN Security Council (China, France, Russia, the UK, and the USA) can veto a candidate. Will any of them exercise that power? Recent history suggests they may. Russia in particular has recently increased its use of the veto, and the US and China have also done so on occasion, although the UK and France have not exercised their “rights” in several decades.

Do the P5 share the same outlook in terms of a future Secretary General? For better or worse, it looks increasingly like the “big five” are looking for more of a “Secretary” than a “General”. On that basis, finding common ground may be possible.

What’s more, there is a general expectation that the successful candidate will probably be from Latin America and the Caribbean. This is based on a general sense among UN member states that leadership rotates through the various regional groups and that it is Latin America and the Caribbean’s ‘turn’.

So far, there has been no public disagreement with this approach, although the regional rotations are considered more of a guideline than a hard rule, and there have been exceptions in the past. For instance, present UN Secretary General, António Guterres of Portugal, was appointed at a time when it was generally expected that the successful candidate would come from Eastern Europe.

Another consideration is gender. The last time a Secretary General was appointed, there was a strong push to appoint a woman. This did not happen, even though seven qualified women were nominated.

In the straw polls held prior to this hiring process, António Guterres was the only candidate who did not attract a veto. In part, this was because he was the most experienced candidate and the first former head of state to stand. However, calls for a woman leader are perhaps even stronger this time around, backed by a sense that such an appointment is long overdue.

So, who are the four official candidates, and what happens next?

The four candidates that have been nominated will each have a three-hour “hustings” on the 21st or 22nd of April, which will be available to view live on UN web TV.

The candidates are:

MICHELLE BACHELET
Nominated by Brazil and Mexico (although her own country, Chile, has withdrawn its support). Bachelet is a former President of Chile. Her party was the Socialist Party of Chile, which is a member of the Progressive Alliance. Her hustings appearance will be on April 21st 10am to 1pm Eastern time.

Advantages
Seniority: Bachelet has held the top job in Chile not once, but twice. Not only that, but she has also held two senior roles within the UN. Her experience has been at the highest level, and her networks are impressive. It is hard to imagine someone with a more appropriate mix of expertise.

UN Credentials: As a former head of both UN Women and the UN High Commission for Human Rights, Bachelet’s insider knowledge is considerable. She would know how to navigate the organization effectively from her first day in the job.

A Female Leader: Michelle Bachelet would be a strong candidate to break the glass ceiling and become the first female leader of the UN.

A Latina Leader: With the tradition that the UN Secretary-General is chosen by rotating through the various UN regions, Bachelet would likely satisfy those who believe it is Latin America and the Caribbean’s “turn” to nominate Guterres’ successor.

Proven Impact: There are few potential candidates who could point to such broad impact both as a national leader and during two separate stints in high-level UN roles, especially in the fields of human rights and supporting vulnerable populations. Given the unprecedented uncertainty swirling around international diplomacy these days, a figure with a reputation as a “doer” may be welcomed.

Disadvantages

Objections from the Big Five? Bachelet has made comments in the past, particularly during her time as the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, that may not have been welcomed by specific UN member states. With her own country withdrawing its support for her, it may make difficulties for her candidacy.

In spite of Bachelet’s obvious credentials, if even one of the “Big Five” members of the Security Council shows sensitivity to her past human rights comments, Bachelet may have her work cut out to change their views. Still, her credentials are impressive and even opponents might have a hard time making a case against her.

RAFAEL GROSSI
Nominated by Argentina, Italy, and Paraguay, Grossi is the present Director of the International Atomic Energy Agency. He is an Argentine career diplomat. His hustings are on April 21st from 3pm to 6pm.

Advantages

Seniority: He has held the post of Argentina Ambassador to Austria, Belgium, Slovenia, Slovakia, and International Organizations in Vienna, and the permanent representative of the United Nations Office at Geneva. While not as politically senior as some of the competition, his track record in diplomacy is certainly strong.

UN Credentials: He is the current Director General of the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) since December 3, 2019.

Proven Impact: Grossi has dealt with nuclear safety in conflict zones, doing shuttle diplomacy to maintain communications between warring parties. His work includes preventing nuclear accidents, particularly at the Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant in Ukraine. He has also, through his “Atoms for Peace and Development”, modernized the IAEA, addressing issues of climate change, poverty, and fostering nuclear technology for development.

Latin Leader: Grossi also ticks the regional box, since he is from the Latin American and Caribbean Group.

Disadvantages

Objections from the Big Five? It’s hard to say. In spite of an exemplary record as a diplomat, in recent years Iranian officials accused him of aligning too closely with U.S. and Israeli interests. This is something Grossi’s supporters deny, and it is unclear how other in the P5, particularly China and Russia, might view the situation.

Not A Female Leader: Clearly not a woman, although it is unclear if this would be a deciding factor or deal breaker for the P5 under its current political leadership.

REBECCA GRYNSPAN
Grynspan was nominated by Costa Rica. She is the current Secretary-General of UNCTAD and a former Vice President of Costa Rica. She was a member of the National Liberation Party, which is a member of Socialist International. Hustings April 22nd, 10 am to 1 pm.

Advantages

Seniority: Grynspan may not have been a president or prime minister, but as Vice President of Costa Rica she climbed close to the summit of her country’s political mountain.

UN Experience: As the first female Secretary-General of UNCTAD, Grynspan has already broken one glass ceiling within the United Nations. She would also bring more than twenty years’ experience within the UN system, something that would surely be viewed as an asset during these uncertain times.

Additionally, she is familiar with the internal workings of the UN in Geneva, New York and across Latin America, giving her insights into decision making at both headquarters and regionally. This breadth of experience within the UN could be useful to any future UN leader.

Proven Impact: Grynspan is viewed as someone who can have an impact, a perception recognized by Forbes magazine, which named her among the 100 most powerful women in Central America four years running. She was also instrumental in the UN-brokered Black Sea Initiative, agreed by Russia, Türkiye, and Ukraine, that has allowed millions of tons of grain and other foodstuffs to leave Ukraine’s ports, playing an important role in global food security.

Connections: Grynspan has had many years of experience operating at the regional and global levels. Her networks may arguably not be as wide as some other candidates’, but would still provide a good platform for her to succeed.

A Female Leader: Grynspan offers the chance to break the glass ceiling and become the first female leader of the UN.

Climate and the Environment: Although Grynspan has strong credentials on trade, finance and development, it is only in recent years that she has taken a higher profile on climate change and some of the other big environmental issues of our time. Interestingly, this may be an advantage at this moment in time, since more some P5 members are now either lukewarm or hostile to candidates with a progressive track record on climate change.

Disadvantages

Peace and Security: Peace, security, and conflict resolution have not featured prominently in her background. If the UN Security Council members are looking for expertise in this area, might Grynspan’s relative lack of experience be considered a possible weakness?

Name Recognition: Although she is widely respected in her fields and across the UN, Grynspan may not have the same sort of name recognition among the public as some of the other candidates.

Objections from the Big Five? How might Grynspan’s political background play out in the current politically-charged atmosphere? Will her center-left credentials find a sympathetic audience among the current P5, or might some in the current conservative US administration object?

MACKY SALL
Nominated by Burundi, Sall is the former President of Senegal and Chairman of the African Union. Politically, his party (Alliance for the Republic) is a member of Liberal International. Hustings April 22nd, from 3pm to 6pm.

Advantages

Seniority: As the former President of Senegal (2012-2024) and former Prime Minister (2004-2007), he has the seniority that a UN Secretary General might well need these days.

Proven Impact: As Chairperson of the African Union, he succeeded in lobbying for the AU to join the G20. He has mediated in regional crises.

Objections from the Big Five? Sall is a center-right politician known to have forged positive ties with France’s Emmanual Macron. Will a right-wing administration in the US be drawn to a candidate also on the conservative side of the political spectrum?

Disadvantages

UN Credentials: Sall cannot claim strong UN credentials, but has been the chairperson of the African Union and a Special Envoy for the Paris Pact for the People and the Planet.

Not A Female Leader: While he would disappoint the many voices calling for the next UN head to be a woman, it’s unclear that would be a reason for any of the P5 to veto.

Not from Latin America: How important is it that the next Secretary-General be from the Latin American and Caribbean Group? At this point, it is hard to say if rotating around the regions “fairly” will be a big issue for members states. As noted earlier, it was not a deal breaker last time around.

A Late Entrant?

What if all four official candidates fail to win over the P5? We have seen in the past that new candidates appear after the nomination deadline. In fact, the process was only truly formalized as recently as 2015. Before that, the selection of a new UN leader was known for being opaque and characterized by back-room discussions and P5 deal making.

If consensus among the P5 cannot be reached, other candidates must emerge. Possibilities from the Latin American and Caribbean Group might include Ivonne Baki (Ecuador), Alicia Bárcena (Mexico), David Choquehuanca (Bolivia), María Fernanda Espinosa (Ecuador), Mia Mottley (Barbados), and Achim Steiner (Brazil).

There may also be interest from beyond the region, such as Amina Mohammed (Nigeria), who is the UN’s current Deputy Secretary-General. Additionally, Kristalina Georgieva (Bulgaria) and Vuk Jeremić (Serbia)—both former center-right European politicians with strong international credentials—have also been mentioned.

However, if the four official candidates all fail to find favor, then appointing a successor that all the P5 can agree on may take some deft diplomatic manoeuvring. At this point, the outcome of such haggling is pretty much anyone’s guess.

Prof. Felix Dodds and Chris Spence have been involved with UN policy making since the 1990s. They recently wrote Environmental Lobbying at the United Nations: A Guide to Protecting Our Planet (Routledge, 2025) and co-edited Heroes of Environmental Diplomacy: Profiles in Courage (Routledge, 2022).

IPS UN Bureau

 

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