By Naïma Abdellaoui
GENEVA, Mar 30 2026 (IPS)
The United Nations was not founded to be comfortable; it was founded to be necessary. Created in the aftermath of catastrophe, its purpose was clear: to maintain international peace and security, to uphold international law, to defend human rights and to promote human dignity and development.
Dag Hammarskjöld, who understood that the Secretary-General was not merely a secretary to governments, but a servant of the Charter and, ultimately, of the peoples of the world.
The office of the Secretary-General was never intended to be merely administrative. It was intended to be moral, political and, when necessary, courageous.As member states consider the appointment of the next Secretary-General, they face a decision that will shape not only the future of the United Nations, but also its credibility. The world today does not suffer from a surplus of institutions; it suffers from a shortage of trust in them.
The next Secretary-General must therefore be more than a careful manager of bureaucracy. The world needs a leader with vision, independence and integrity — a leader willing to uphold the Charter even when doing so is inconvenient to powerful member states.
Too often, the selection process produces a candidate who is acceptable to everyone precisely because they are unlikely to seriously challenge anyone. This may be politically expedient, but it is strategically short-sighted. An overly cautious Secretary-General may preserve short-term diplomatic comfort while presiding over long-term institutional decline.
The United Nations does not need a figure who simply reflects the balance of power within the Security Council; it needs a figure who reflects the principles of the Charter.
The next Secretary-General must be bold enough to articulate a clear vision for what the United Nations is for in the twenty-first century. That vision must be rooted in the organization’s founding objectives: preventing conflict, strengthening respect for international law, protecting human rights and promoting conditions under which peace is possible. These goals require not only administrative competence, but political courage and moral clarity.
Equally important, the next Secretary-General must be strong enough to maintain independence from the influence of any single member state or group of states. The United Nations does not exist to legitimize the actions of the powerful; it exists to ensure that power operates within rules.
The Secretary-General cannot fulfill this role if the office is perceived as operating at the beck and call of a few influential capitals. Independence is not a luxury in this role; it is the source of its authority.
With independence must come integrity. The United Nations possesses little in the way of traditional power: it does not command armies, it does not control vast financial resources and it cannot compel states to act. Its greatest asset is legitimacy — the belief that it stands for something larger than the interests of individual nations.
That legitimacy depends heavily on the personal credibility of the Secretary-General. Ethical leadership, transparency, accountability and consistency must once again become the defining characteristics of the office.
In this regard, the world would do well to remember Dag Hammarskjöld, who understood that the Secretary-General was not merely a secretary to governments, but a servant of the Charter and, ultimately, of the peoples of the world. He demonstrated that quiet diplomacy and moral courage are not opposites; they are partners.
He showed that the authority of the Secretary-General does not come from military or economic power, but from independence, integrity and a willingness to act when action is required.
Much attention is often given to the identity of the next Secretary-General — nationality, region, and increasingly gender. These questions are politically understandable, but they are not the most important questions. The defining question is not where the Secretary-General comes from, but what the Secretary-General stands for.
The United Nations is often described as an organization of states. But states exist to serve people, not the other way around. If that principle is true at the national level, it must also be true at the international level. The United Nations, therefore, does not ultimately belong to governments. It belongs to the peoples in whose name its Charter was written. Member states do not own the United Nations; they are trustees of it. And trustees are not meant to serve themselves, but those on whose behalf they hold responsibility.
This understanding should guide the selection of the next Secretary-General. The position requires someone who understands that the office is not merely administrative, but custodial — custodial of the Charter, of international law and of the trust that the world’s peoples place, however imperfectly, in the United Nations.
The selection process itself, however, raises a final and somewhat uncomfortable question. The Secretary-General is often described as the world’s top diplomat, and yet the world’s people have no direct voice in choosing this person.
The decision rests, as everyone knows, with a small number of states possessing veto power. This may be politically realistic, but it is increasingly difficult to explain to a global public that is more educated, more connected and more aware than at any time in history.
Perhaps, then, one day the world might experiment with something new — global consultations, or even worldwide elections — allowing the peoples of the world to express their preference for who should occupy this uniquely global office.
It is a slightly amusing idea, perhaps even an unrealistic one for now, but it contains a serious point: if the United Nations truly begins with “We the Peoples,” then their voice should be heard more clearly in choosing its leader.
Until that day comes, the responsibility rests with member states. They must choose not the safest candidate, not the most convenient candidate and not the candidate least likely to upset powerful governments. They must choose the candidate most likely to uphold the Charter, speak with independence, act with courage and restore integrity to the office.
The world does not need a careful manager.
The world needs a courageous Secretary-General.
Naïma Abdellaoui, UNOG – UNison Staff Representative, International Civil Servant since 2004.
IPS UN Bureau
Follow @IPSNewsUNBureau
With no path beyond sixth grade, some Afghan girls deliberately fail exams to remain in the classroom for one more year. Credit: Learning Together.
By External Source
KABUL, Mar 30 2026 (IPS)
It is almost unheard of for a student to deliberately fail final school exams for no apparent reason. Therefore, when 13-year old Sara (not her real name) from Mazar-i-Sharif in Afghanistan took her school report home to her parents, they were shocked to learn that the top-performing student had failed her final exams and would not advance to the next level. But there was no longer a next level for Sara, even if she had passed.
The Afghan calendar changes in March 2026. The year 1405 begins, and with it a new school year across the country.
For the fifth year running, girls have only been allowed to attend school up to sixth grade. After sixth grade, boys continue their studies, but girls aged 12–13 are no longer allowed to pursue further education or attend university.
As the new school year approaches, girls who have passed the sixth grade know they will not be allowed to return to the classroom. All that remains are memories of years spent at the desks and the friendships they made during their school years. For many, the end of school also marks the shipwreck of their dreams for the future.
However, some have found a pathway that is both bitter and hopeful. They leave their answer sheets blank to deliberately fail their final year exams, just to stay one more year albeit in the same class. It is the only chance to stay in a place where they can study and dream about the future.
“My sister says I’m lucky to still be in school, but I don’t feel happy. This is just a delaying battle. When this year ends, will I have to stay home and become a seamstress?”
Sara is one of those who have chosen to fail her final exams. She deliberately answered the exam questions incorrectly so that she would fail and be allowed to stay in school for another year.
Restricting girls’ education was one of the Taliban’s first orders in August 2021. In late 2022, the Taliban announced that universities would also be closed to girls and women “for the time being.” It was unclear how long the suspension would last.
Nearly four years later, “for the time being” is still in effect, and young women are still not allowed to study. They live in uncertainty and do not know what the future holds.
Sara lives in a middle-income family with her parents and five siblings. She is the fourth child.
Sara’s father works intermittently in construction, employed for a few months a year and unemployed the rest of the time. Sara’s mother is a seamstress, sewing clothes for the women in the area and contributing to the family income.
Sara’s parents have done everything they can to ensure that their children go to school. Her mother, who has never been to school herself, says:
“Sara’s father and I are both illiterate, and our greatest wish is for our children to receive an education. I work day and night as a seamstress so that my children have a better future and do not end up in the same hopeless situation as their father and me. My daughters in particular need to study, succeed, and be independent. But my eldest daughter has sadly been out of school for two years. She now works with me as a seamstress. I hope that my other two daughters and three sons will be able to complete school.”
Sara started school six years ago with enthusiasm and hope. She wipes her eyes with the edge of her scarf as she recounts her school journey with her older sister, Marwa.
“Every morning we woke up early. I carefully braided my hair, packed my books in my bag and walked to school with Marwa. It was less than half an hour to school. Classes started at eight. We used to spend four hours at school and walked back home together when school ended at noon”.
“Marwa and I talked on the way to school about how we would become doctors. But after sixth grade, my sister couldn’t go back to school. For the last two years, she has been helping our mother as a seamstress, and I don’t want that life. I want to be a doctor. That’s why I decided that I couldn’t stop schooling.”
Sara decided to rewrite her destiny, even if it was just for one year.
“To be honest, I had always tried to be the best in my class”, she continues. “So the decision to deliberately fail was incredibly difficult. But it was the only way I could stay in school. When I got my certificate after the exams and saw that I had failed some subjects, I felt both joy and sadness. I had failed, but I didn’t feel defeated. I get to study for one more year. I can still wear my black dress and white scarf and go to school”, she says.
Sara’s family was shocked when they learned she had failed her final exams. Her father stared at the report card repeatedly, as if searching for a mistake. Her mother could not believe it, as her daughter had always ranked at or near the top of her class.
“There was a silence at home that was heavier than any reprimand. I knew I had to tell them what I had done,” Sara recounts.
She pauses, then continues: “I told my parents that my failure was not an accident and that I had intentionally left some questions unanswered or answered them incorrectly. My father was completely shocked. He could not believe I had done it on purpose. He was very and asked me why I wanted to fail.”
His anger subsided when Sara explained her reason: she wanted to go to university like her brother.
Wiping tears with her scarf once more, Sara says she feels sorry for her parents, who worked hard in order for them to live comfortably, go to school, and have a future.
“I don’t know if my decision was right or wrong. My family eventually accepted that I would go back to school, but I feel like I disappointed them anyway.”
When school starts this year, Sara will return to the sixth grade. She will carry the same books and return to a classroom where her former classmates are no longer there.
“My sister says I’m lucky to still be in school, but I don’t feel happy. This is just a delaying battle. When this year ends, will I have to stay home and become a seamstress?”
This question concerns not only Sara, but millions of Afghan girls who have been denied the right to go to school and who ask every day: when will we learn again?
Denying girls an education is not merely an educational policy. It excludes half of the country’s population from public life and deprives them of the opportunity to build their own future and that of their nation.
The consequences are far-reaching, both socially and economically. Before long, women will no longer be working in the fields of medicine, education and social services. The impact is severe, as the absence of female professionals directly affects the health and well-being of millions.
Excerpt:
The author is an Afghanistan-based female journalist, trained with Finnish support before the Taliban take-over. Her identity is withheld for security reasonsBonn, 30. März 2026. Die Blockade der Straße von Hormus verdeutlicht die Anfälligkeit von globalen Düngemittel-Lieferketten für Störungen. Wasserstofftechnologien ermöglichen die lokale Produktion mit erneuerbaren Energien.
Im März 2026 schloss der Iran nach Angriffen durch Israel und die USA die Straße von Hormus. Dies kann erhebliche Auswirkungen auf die Weltwirtschaft haben, da die Meerenge zentral für den Öl- und Gastransport ist und die Preise steigen würden. Weniger Beachtung fanden bislang die Nahrungsmittelproduktion und die Ernährungssicherheit im Globalen Süden, insbesondere in Asien und Subsahara-Afrika, aber auch in Brasilien. Das sich abzeichnende Problem ist eng mit der Düngemittelversorgung verknüpft, insbesondere mit Stickstoffpräparaten. Stickstoff (N), Phosphor (P) und Kalium (K) sind essenzielle Makronährstoffe, wobei Stickstoffdünger weltweit, auch in Afrika, die größte Bedeutung haben. Die globalen Lieferketten für Phosphor und Kalium greifen auf Lagerstätten in Marokko und Kanada zurück, während Stickstoffdünger nicht aus natürlichen Vorkommen stammen. Früher wurden Quellen wie Gülle, Kompost, Guano und chilenischer Salpeter genutzt, um Nutzpflanzen mit Stickstoff zu versorgen. Diese waren jedoch knapp und reichten für die wachsende Weltbevölkerung nicht aus.
Eine entscheidende Innovation stellte das früh im 20. Jahrhundert entwickelte Haber-Bosch-Verfahren (HBV) dar. Heute werden rund 98 % des Ammoniaks so hergestellt, was enorme Ertragssteigerungen ermöglicht hat. Dabei wird Ammoniak (NH₃) aus Wasserstoff (H₂) und Stickstoff (N₂) hergestellt. Während Stickstoff relativ einfach aus der Luft abgeschieden werden kann, ist dies für Wasserstoff nicht möglich, da seine Konzentration in der Atmosphäre sehr gering ist. Stattdessen dominiert die Dampfreformierung von Methan (Steam Methane Reforming, SMR), bei der Erdgas unter hohem Druck und hoher Temperatur mit Wasserdampf umgesetzt wird. Dabei wird Wasserstoff (H₂) gewonnen und CO₂ freigesetzt. Nahezu die gesamte Ammoniakproduktion ist weiterhin von Erdgas und dem traditionellen HBV abhängig, was zwei Probleme verursacht: Erstens müssen die Treibhausgasemissionen der konventionellen Stickstoffdüngerproduktion deutlich reduziert werden. Zweitens ergeben sich sehr lange Lieferketten: Von weltweit lediglich rund 500 NH₃-Anlagen, die an Gasfelder oder Pipelines gebunden sind, gelangen die Produkte über Importhäfen zum landwirtschaftlichen Betrieb. Wie anfällig diese Strukturen sind, lässt sich derzeit beobachten. Auch wirken sich Schwankungen der Erdgaspreise unmittelbar auf die Preise von Düngemitteln aus.
Geringer Düngemitteleinsatz in AfrikaDer weltweite Düngemitteleinsatz stieg von 55 kg/ha im Jahr 1972 auf 134 kg/ha im Jahr 2022 – mit erheblichen regionalen Unterschieden. Im Jahr 2022 wurden in Ostasien durchschnittlich 321 kg/ha, in Lateinamerika 187 kg/ha und in der EU 124 kg/ha ausgebracht. In Subsahara-Afrika hingegen blieb der Düngemitteleinsatz mit durchschnittlich 18 kg/ha sehr gering (1972: 10 kg/ha). Daten der FAO zeigen, dass Afrika die geringste Ernährungssicherheit aller Weltregionen aufweist, unter anderem aufgrund von Konflikten, Naturkatastrophen, dem Klimawandel und der COVID-19-Pandemie. Aber auch der geringe Düngemitteleinsatz verschärft die Ernährungsunsicherheit. Eine unzureichende Nährstoffversorgung verringert Erträge, Nährstoffgehalt und die für die Bodengesundheit wichtige Biomasse. Zugleich kann sinkende Bodenfruchtbarkeit zur Ausweitung landwirtschaftlicher Flächen und zur Entwaldung beitragen.
Zwei Erklärungen der Afrikanischen Union (AU) griffen dieses Problem auf: Die Abuja-Erklärung (2006) setzte ein Ziel von 50 kg/ha bis 2015, das jedoch deutlich verfehlt wurde. Der Entwurf der Nairobi-Erklärung (2024) bekräftigte dieses Ziel, integrierte es jedoch in umfassendere Strategien zur Bodengesundheit und bezog mineralische und organische Düngemittel ein.
Technologische Innovationen für die lokale Ammoniakproduktion und eine geringere Abhängigkeit von LieferkettenEin vielversprechender Ansatz ist die dezentrale, klimaneutrale Produktion von Ammoniak auf Basis eines elektrifizierten HBV, das mit erneuerbaren Energien betrieben wird. Diese Technologien haben bereits einen hohen Reifegrad erreicht; eine erste Anlage wurde auf einem exportorientierten Großbetrieb in Kenia installiert. Forschungsergebnisse deuten darauf hin, dass solche Lösungen in wenigen Jahren wettbewerbsfähig werden und erheblich zur Ernährungssicherheit beitragen könnten, insbesondere in „unterdüngten“ afrikanischen Ländern.
Eine weitere Technologie, die sich derzeit noch in einem frühen Entwicklungsstadium befindet, ist die Rückgewinnung von Ammoniak aus Abwasser. Dieser Ansatz ist auch für die Bewältigung eines weiteren Problems in vielen afrikanischen Ländern relevant: der Eutrophierung von Gewässern infolge übermäßiger Stickstoffeinträge in Oberflächen- und Grundwasser, ein Problem, das durch das rasante Bevölkerungswachstum weiter verschärft wird.
Kleinere Ammoniakprojekte, etwa im Rahmen öffentlich-privater Partnerschaften, könnten zusammen mit Genossenschaften oder ländlichen Gemeinden umgesetzt werden. Entwicklungsprogramme könnten diese Innovationen im Sinne der Nairobi-Erklärung mit Initiativen zur landwirtschaftlichen Entwicklung und zur Bodengesundheit verbinden. Darüber hinaus ist elektrolysebasiertes Ammoniak zwar ein nahezu klimaneutrales Produkt, dessen Handhabung, Transport und Lagerung jedoch weiterhin anspruchsvoll und potenziell gefährlich sind. Dies erfordert entsprechende Maßnahmen zum Kapazitätsaufbau sowie zur Standardisierung und Qualitätssicherung.
Dr. Andreas Stamm ist Geograph und wissenschaftlicher Mitarbeiter in der Forschungsabteilung "Transformation der Wirtschafts- und Sozialsysteme” des German Institute of Development and Sustainability (IDOS).
Dr. Christine Bosch ist Agrarökonomin und derzeit Postdoktorandin in der Abteilung „Sozialer und institutioneller Wandel in der landwirtschaftlichen Entwicklung“ am Hans-Ruthenberg-Institut der Universität Hohenheim.
Fernanda Nan ist eine internationale Wirtschaftsexpertin mit Spezialisierungen in Recht, Nachhaltigkeit, Compliance- und Prüfungsstandards, Circular Economy Agribusiness und Energie. Sie ist Gastdozentin für das Seminar „Accountability, Ethics, and Governance“ an der Hochschule Osnabrück in Deutschland und unterrichtet „Global Sustainability Business“ an der Fakultät für Ingenieurwissenschaften der Universität Montevideo (UM).