Delegates gather for the opening plenary of the June UN Climate Meetings in Bonn. Credit: Kiara Worth / IISD/ENB
By Felix Dodds and Chris Spence
APEX, North Carolina / SAN FRANCISCO, California, Jun 30 2026 (IPS)
With progress stalled on many issues, this year’s June talks in Bonn—which are supposed to smooth the way towards COP 31 in Antalya at year’s end—were widely judged a failure. What happened? And what does it mean for Antalya?
“Deliberately delaying us.”
“Spreading misinformation.”
“Denying the science.”
“Lacking integrity.”
“Blocking progress.”
“Costing countless lives.”
These were just some of the charges delegates leveled at each other during the UN Climate Meetings held in Bonn this June. As delegates took up multiple issues in small “contact groups” and “informal consultations”, negotiations quickly became tetchy and irritable before descending into levels of rancor and even rudeness rarely seen before. And it was not just one issue where tempers frayed.
What went wrong? One problem is the sheer number of topics on the Bonn agenda. Over the thirty-plus years since the UN climate talks began, countries have been keen to add issues they particularly care about to the agenda
From talks on climate change research and science to topics like mitigation and funding for adaptation, the mood was often combative and confrontational. By the meeting’s end, differences were so great that in many cases delegates could not even agree to continue working on the draft outcome documents from Bonn when they arrive at COP 31 in Antalya later this year.
This means they will need to start discussions from scratch. In other cases, they failed to finish their work, but at least managed to forward the current working texts. This is hardly a great outcome, however.
In fact, Bonn may have witnessed more arguments over “mandates” (whether a particular group should be discussing certain topics) and “points of order” (whether delegates were playing within the rules) than ever before in the climate change process.
Searching for positives, some participants pointed to one success. Delegates did choose the UN Environment Programme (UNEP) to host the Climate Technology Centre (CTC).
The CTC provides technological support to developing countries. It means the Centre’s work will continue beyond 2027 and possibly all the way through to 2041. But even the glow of this minor “win” dims when one recalls that UNEP was already the host.
This agreement simply means it can carry on its work. It doesn’t create something new. When continuing to do something that’s already happening counts as a victory, you know things haven’t gone well.
Too Many Topics
What went wrong? One problem is the sheer number of topics on the Bonn agenda. Over the thirty-plus years since the UN climate talks began, countries have been keen to add issues they particularly care about to the agenda.
For instance, vulnerable small island nations are eager to talk about keeping global warming under 1.5oC, the threshold at which scientists fear serious “tipping points” will be reached. They also want to talk about phasing out fossil fuels—the major cause of climate change—and about wealthy countries helping them to adapt.
Meanwhile, fossil fuel exporters like Saudi Arabia are keen to talk about what wealthy western nations’ actions, including carbon taxes or a shift to renewables, are doing to their oil-based economies. They believe these “response measures” could harm them—or already are. That said, these same oil and gas-rich nations certainly do not want to talk about getting rid of fossil fuels.
A third example are the western nations, particularly those in Europe, who are making efforts to shake off their dependence on oil and gas.
They are happy to talk about renewable energy and science, but are keen to shut down talk about funding or compensating countries affected by what the Europeans consider to be their virtuous efforts to change. Bailing out oil producers for any “harm” done to their export trade is the last thing on their minds.
As the various groups have added their topics to the negotiations over the years, these divergent views have collided with ever greater force. Although there are frequent calls to simplify the process, no country is going to give up their “pet” topic, especially since that would mean more time to talk about someone else’s favorite issue. Could everyone agree to simplify and give up their preferred agenda item? Maybe. But so far, no one has blinked.
The Rule Is, There Are No Rules!
Making things more difficult still are the UN climate treaty’s “rules of procedure.” These were developed in the 1990s when countries first penned the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change—the bedrock agreement on which the Kyoto Protocol and Paris Agreement were also built.
The rules of procedure offer a way out of difficult issues by allowing for countries to vote. In some cases, a two-thirds majority is required to “win” on an issue. Sometimes, the bar is even higher and a three-quarters majority is needed.
The trouble is, these rules were never formally adopted. Saudi Arabia and a number of other countries refused to agree to them. What this means is that consensus is required for everything. So, what happens when a treaty has 198 parties, all with differing views and priorities on what is possibly the most complex issue of our times? One could argue it’s a miracle anything has been agreed at all.
The COP 31 Pileup
What does this mess mean for COP 31, which is taking place in Antalya, Türkiye, in November? First, it means an agenda pileup. The annual June climate meeting in Bonn is supposed to help pave the way to the end-of-year COP. Bonn’s job is to resolve much of the low-hanging fruit—agenda items that require some sort of agreement or outcome document, but which can be taken care of relatively quickly. This then leaves the COP to finish up work on the big, meaty, difficult issues.
The problem is, Bonn resolved almost nothing. Even the low-hanging fruit seems to have soured. With so many documents unresolved and “rolled over” (or, in the jargon of the process, ‘Rule 16ed’), COP 31 will have a massive workload. It’s a logjam that seems unlikely to be cleared in Antalya.
Does this mean COP 31 will fail? Not necessarily. One silver lining that could be observed in Bonn was how well the two countries presiding over COP 31 seemed to be working together. In an unusual arrangement, the government of Türkiye is physically hosting and organizing the COP, while the government of Australia is joining as co-president tasked with handling the diplomatic negotiations.
Their collaborative spirit and air of quiet competence provided a ray of hope in Bonn. Also, there are two pre-COP events in October—one taking place in Fiji, the other in Tuvalu—that might help.
Still, the signs are not good overall.
Fixing the Process
Bonn did not occur in a vacuum. By common consent, the UN climate process has been getting steadily more complicated by the year, especially since the Paris Agreement was inked back in 2015. Bonn was just the latest example—and one of the more extreme—in how confusing and difficult it has become from an agenda perspective.
There is also a growing interest in these negotiations to reckon with. Some of the early COPs attracted only a few thousand participants, while today the numbers regularly top 50,000 and more.
The most extreme, COP 28, topped 83,000! Some argue this is making it more difficult, while others see this as a positive development, since it demonstrates to politicians that climate change remains a critical issue. Either way, this evolution adds to the organizational complexity of the process.
These recent travails and complications have led to a steady stream of think pieces, reports, and meetings aimed at streamlining, simplifying and improving the system. They contain many good ideas for shedding agenda items and other alterations.
Perhaps one day frustration will mount to a point where some of these good ideas actually happen. But with countries so divided on the substance of the talks, it is hard to imagine them agreeing on their organization, at least in the short term.
Does It Really Matter?
In spite of the mess the process is in right now, we can see four reasons to remain positive and not to give up hope.
First, COP 31 is not a “make or break” COP. Sure, it needs to keep the momentum going. But there are no major outcomes needed in Antalya.
Instead, delegates and observers are looking more to COP 32 in 2027—which will review countries’ success in implementing their pledges under the Paris Agreement—and COP 33, which is tasked with completing a second “global stocktake” of progress. COP 33, in particular, will need to end with something noteworthy. Interestingly, COP 33 is also likely to take place hard-on-the-heels of the U.S. Presidential elections.
Looking further out, COP 35 in 2030 should mark another important moment in the process, with countries scheduled to submit their next set of pledges or “Nationally Determined Contributions”.
A second reason to stay positive—and no disrespect to the climate negotiations—is that we already have in place the major agreements we need to make progress.
The UN Framework Convention on Climate Change and the Paris Agreement are the launch pads we need. A lot of the negotiations occurring these days in Bonn and at the COPs are relatively minor and procedural. Now, our work can and should be more about implementing what we’ve agreed.
To be clear: the COPs have an important role to play in reviewing progress and encouraging countries to do more. But the foundations are already in place, the promises made. Now, it is about doing what we have said we would.
Thirdly, the creation of “Coalitions of the Willing” in recent years show there is an appetite for promoting implementation even on issues where there is not yet consensus among all 198 member states.
Alliances designed to advance progress on critical matters such as energy, agriculture, water, oceans, and health can only help us move forward. While some, such as the Glasgow Financial Alliance for Net Zero (GFANZ), have failed in their original goals, the potential is certainly there.
The recent alliance to transition away from fossil fuels, and another initiative on financing known as the “Vulnerability to Viability Compact”, are positive developments that could and should help us on the path to implementation.
Are we doing what is needed? Not yet. At least, not fast enough. But—and this is our fourth and final note of positivity—there is hope here. It’s worth noting that, since the Paris Agreement in 2015, the trajectory of global warming has changed. Back in 2015, the world was staring down the barrel of 4-6oC in warming by the end of this century. These numbers should cause any sensible person to quail. They are extinction-level predictions; apocalyptic in their scope, horrifying in their impact.
Today, the numbers have fallen to between about 2.1oC and 2.8oC, depending on your assumptions. These numbers are still very, very bad. They threaten breaching all sorts limits, passing many points of no return.
Even at 1.5oC warming, we are seeing unprecedented weather such as the heatwaves felt recently in Europe. Still, we have started to bend the curve. As a result of government policies, scientific breakthroughs, private sector initiatives and action from many, many stakeholders, things are slowly beginning to change.
Our friend Christiana Figueres, who played a major role in the Paris Agreement, talks often about “stubborn optimism”. We agree. This is the time to double down on climate action. With renewed energy and dogged persistence, we can keep bending the curve and change humanity’s future.
This, surely, is something participants at future COPs should be striving towards.
Prof. Felix Dodds and Chris Spence have participated in United Nations talks on climate change and other environmental negotiations since the 1990s. They co-edited Heroes of Environmental Diplomacy: Profiles in Courage (Routledge, 2022) and wrote Environmental Lobbying at the United Nations: A Guide to Protecting Our Planet (Routledge, 2025). Their next book, Political Heroes of the Environment: Profiles in Courage, is due for release in 2027.
Smart farming enables farmers to produce more with fewer resources, make better decisions under uncertainty, and reduce agriculture's environmental footprint. Credit: FAO
By Beth Bechdol
ROME, Jun 30 2026 (IPS)
Farmers today are producing food under pressures that would have been unimaginable to previous generations. Input costs are rising and supply chains are unreliable. Water is scarcer. Weather is less predictable. And for a growing number of farmers — in Sudan, in Ukraine, in Myanmar, in Gaza — the challenge is producing food at all, in the middle of active conflict. These are not marginal conditions. They describe the reality facing hundreds of millions of people who grow the food the world depends on.
Smart farming — using data, digital tools, and precision technologies to make better decisions, use fewer inputs, and get more from every hectare — is not a luxury response to these pressures. It is increasingly a practical and necessary one. It helps farmers know when to plant, where fertilizer will generate the greatest return, how much water a crop actually needs, where pests are likely to emerge, and which risks are developing before they become crises.
Three agricultural revolutions got us here. The first gave humanity settled agriculture. The second transformed land use and productivity through new methods and early machinery. The third — the Green Revolution — combined improved seeds, fertilizers, and modern practice to feed a rapidly growing world. Each solved the defining challenge of its era … producing enough.
Smart farming — using data, digital tools, and precision technologies to make better decisions, use fewer inputs, and get more from every hectare — is not a luxury response to these pressures. It is increasingly a practical and necessary one
The fourth revolution faces a fundamentally different challenge. It is no longer simply about producing more food. It is about producing more with fewer and less reliable inputs, under greater uncertainty, on land under increasing stress, and while reducing agriculture’s environmental footprint.
The tools that drove the Green Revolution were extraordinary, but they are not infinitely scalable. Synthetic fertilizers depend on energy-intensive production and supply chains that have proven fragile. Aquifers in key agricultural regions are being drawn down faster than they recharge. The yield gains from conventional intensification are flattening. There is no endless supply of cheap water, cheap fertilizer, or cheap fuel to sustain food production the way we have for the past half-century.
Smart farming is how we meet this new challenge. It enables farmers to produce more with fewer resources, make better decisions under uncertainty, and reduce agriculture’s environmental footprint. It is not a vision for the future. It is already happening.
FAO’s own operational programmes demonstrate what is already possible. Our Desert Locust early warning system uses satellite imagery, weather data, and field intelligence to forecast outbreaks before they reach crops, giving governments time to act rather than simply respond. The SoilFER programme is turning faster, more affordable soil mapping into actionable fertilizer recommendations for farmers in Central America and sub-Saharan Africa. The Hand-in-Hand Initiative combines geospatial, market, and socioeconomic data so governments and investors can direct agricultural investment where it will have the greatest return. These are not pilots. They are operational programmes with measurable outcomes — and they include AI-driven tools that forecast pest and disease pressure, analyze crop stress, and help governments make better decisions faster than was previously possible.
My own family’s seven-generation grain farm in rural Indiana today uses GPS-guided equipment, variable-rate fertilizer applications based on soil sampling, yield mapping, and real-time weather tools to make planting and harvesting decisions. The technology works. The question is who has access to it.
That is the central challenge. The benefits of smart farming currently concentrate among producers who already have the resources, connectivity, and institutional support to adopt new tools. Smallholder farmers — who produce a third of the world’s food — are too often last in line. Women farmers and young producers face additional barriers to technology and financing, which means the whole system underperforms when they are excluded.
At FAO’s Global Conference on Smart Farming in Rome from 1 to 3 July, the commitments required are specific and clear. Governments need to modernize regulatory environments and invest in the digital infrastructure agriculture depends on. Development banks should finance data systems and precision agriculture as essential infrastructure rather than optional innovation. Private companies need business models that reach smallholders, not only large commercial farms. And organizations like FAO must ensure that technical knowledge becomes practical solutions farmers can actually us e.
The fourth agricultural revolution is already underway. What remains to be decided is whether its benefits reach the farmers who need them most — or whether the gap between what is possible and what is accessible becomes permanent.
Beth Bechdol is Deputy Director-General, Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations
A UN Peacebuilding Week Event held in Egypt’s Permanent Mission to the United Nations, New York. Credit: Maximilian Malawista
By Maximilian Malawista
UNITED NATIONS, Jun 30 2026 (IPS)
As the United Nations held its first-ever Peacebuilding Week (June 22-26), UN officials and developmental partners gathered at Egypt’s Permanent Mission on June 23 to hold a dialogue on the main question that emerged from the 2025 Peacebuilding Architecture Review (PBAR): “How can global commitments to peacebuilding translate into tangible results on the ground?”
This event, hosted by Egypt at the sidelines of Peacebuilding Week, titled “Strengthening National Peace Infrastructures in Africa: Lessons Learned and the Way Forward,” brought together representatives from African governments and regional organizations, as well as members of the UN system, to discuss how nationally-owned institutions can mitigate and prevent conflict, manage effects and sustain peace long after such situations have ended.
To open the event, Egypt’s Permanent Representative to the United Nations, Ihab Moustafa Awad Moustafa, emphasized that the 2025 PBAR negotiations repeatedly asserted a fundamental concern: ensuring that policy discussions in New York produce measurable impact on the ground, whether in Africa or in any other peacekeeping sites.
“One of the clearest answers that emerged during those discussions was the need to strengthen national capacities and institutions,” Moustafa said. “We are serious about peacebuilding, sustaining peace, and primarily prevention. We must invest in national peace infrastructure.”
The PBAR, which was adopted in November of 2025, reaffirmed that nationally led and nationally owned endeavors remain at the core of sustainable peace. The PBAR actively calls on Member States, regional organizations, development partners, international financial institutions, and the UN system to strengthen the institutions capable of preventing conflict, fostering social cohesion, and managing risk.
Throughout the discussion, speakers agreed that contemporary conflicts are rooted in security threats but also pointed to institutional fragility, governance deficits, and declining trust of public institutions between citizens as an additional threat.
Brian James Williams, Chief of the Peacebuilding Fund at the Peacebuilding and Peace Support Office (PBPSO), explained that the review provides a clear mandate for the international community to follow nationally identified priorities.
“Prevention and sustaining peace need stronger national capacities, stronger institutions and better alignment of international support behind those national priorities,” Williams said.
Williams detailed the UN Peacebuilding Fund’s increasingly important role in helping governments operationalize existing national mechanisms, rather than creating new parallel structures. Williams cited examples such as support for peace and reconciliation committees in Chad and local peacebuilding mechanisms in the Central African Republic.
“These committees bring together administrative authorities, traditional and religious leaders, women, young, and marginalized groups,” Williams said, relaying the efforts to connect national peace architectures with local institutions and provincial actors.
Participants of the dialogue repeatedly emphasized that national ownership must extend beyond central governments. Effective peace infrastructures require civil society organizations; participation of local authorities, women, youth, religious leaders, and representatives of the community; and capability of identifying tensions or risks before they can escalate into violence.
Permanent Representative of Nigeria to the United Nations, Ibrahim F. Jimoh, highlighted his country’s model to strengthen peacebuilding through institutions such as the Institute for Peace and Conflict Resolution and through reintegration, demobilization, disarmament, and reconciliation programs tailored to specific local conditions.
“Such infrastructures provide the framework through which countries can anticipate risks, address grievances, and support recovery,” Jimoh said. “Their effectiveness depends on inclusive participation, institutional resilience, and strong national ownership.”
Sierra Leone, Ghana, Côte d’Ivoire, and The Gambia also shared examples where local mediation structures, national peace councils, reconciliation commissions, and traditional institutions of justice have contributed to conflict prevention and social cohesion.
Jacqueline Seck, Chief of Staff, Office of the Under-Secretary-General for Political and Peacebuilding Affairs (DPPA), pointed to Ghana’s Peace Council as an example of nationally owned institutions providing trusted platforms to have dialogue, mediation, and electoral conflict prevention. Similarly, in The Gambia and Sierra Leone, the role of dedicated peace institutions in helping support post-conflict reconciliation and manage political tensions was discussed.
Among the major challenges, financing emerged as a recurring topic throughout the duration of the dialogue. While the catalytic role of the Peacebuilding Fund was praised by the speakers, many emphasized that sustained peace ultimately requires a long-term political commitment to peace as well as continuous domestic investment.
Williams warned that developing institutions often takes a lot of time and is a gradual process.
“Institutions take time to develop,” he said. “Results often require support at a certain scale, across the country, and across different parts of an institution to make meaningful impact.”
Throughout the discussion, participants pointed to a broader shift in peacebuilding strategy, from responding to crises after violence has already erupted to investing in preventative institutions designed to address risks before conflict happens.
IPS UN Bureau Report
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By James Alix Michel
VICTORIA, Seychelles, Jun 29 2026 (IPS)
On the night of 29 June 1976, just before midnight, I stood among my fellow Seychellois at the heart of a moment that would change our history forever.
James Alix Michel
We were waiting for the British flag to come down and for our own flag to rise for the first time over an independent Seychelles.The air was heavy with expectation, pride, and a certain quiet anxiety: we were stepping into the unknown.
That night was emotional for me in a very personal way. After the new president had delivered his address, the president of my party – who would become Prime Minister at Independence – took the podium. At the end of his speech, he recited a poem I had written for our newspaper, entitled “Il est Minuit” – “It is midnight”. Hearing my own words spoken at that exact moment, when one era was ending and another beginning, was unforgettable. It felt as if the poem had become part of the birth certificate of our nation.
Fifty years later, as Seychelles celebrates its golden jubilee of Independence, I look back not only as a witness of that first midnight, but as someone who has walked alongside the country through many of its trials and transformations: from minister, to vice president, to president, and now as an advocate for the Blue Economy and for Small Island Developing States (SIDS) on the global stage.
From struggle to nationhood:
The struggle for Independence was our first great challenge. As a small colony in the Indian Ocean, it could have been easy to remain permanently on the periphery of history. Instead, the Seychellois chose to take responsibility for their own destiny. The transition from colonial rule to self government forged a strong sense of identity and duty. It taught us that freedom is not a one time event, but a continuous effort.
In the years after Independence, Seychelles experimented with different political paths, including one party rule and later a return to multi party democracy. These choices were often contentious, but they were part of our process of political maturation. As institutions evolved and multi party politics took root, we learned the value of dialogue, compromise and the rule of law. A young state was becoming a more confident republic.
2008: A turning point born of crisis:
One of the most defining moments in my own journey came in 2008. By then I was president, and Seychelles was facing a deep economic crisis. The global financial turmoil, combined with soaring oil and food prices, had almost exhausted our foreign reserves. The rupee was heavily overvalued, deficits were spiralling, and eventually the country missed a payment on its external debt.
In such moments, leadership is tested in very practical ways. On 31 October 2008, I took the decision to launch a comprehensive macroeconomic reform programme, supported by the International Monetary Fund. We floated the rupee, restructured the national debt, and imposed strict fiscal discipline. These were not popular measures; they required real sacrifice from the Seychellois people.
Yet that programme became a turning point. It stabilised our economy, restored credibility, and moved Seychelles towards a more modern, private sector led market system.
Looking back, I consider those reforms one of the most important achievements of my leadership. Without that foundation, many of the subsequent steps we took – in education, innovation and environmental policy – would have been far more difficult, if not impossible.
Pirates at sea, pressure on land:
Just as those economic reforms were taking root, a new and very different threat emerged. Somali pirates, heavily armed, began operating deep inside our Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ), hijacking local vessels, taking Seychellois fishermen hostage and frightening away cruise ships and fishing fleets. Our two main economic pillars – tourism and tuna fishing – were suddenly at risk.
For a small island state with 1.3 million square kilometres of ocean, this was an existential security challenge. We knew we could not police such a vast space alone. We therefore mounted an intense diplomatic effort to convince regional and global partners that securing the Western Indian Ocean was in everyone’s interest. Seychelles became a hub for anti piracy operations; our Coast Guard cooperated closely with foreign navies; and we adapted our domestic laws to prosecute and imprison pirates.
These were difficult years, but they showed that a small nation, if it acts with courage and clarity, can punch above its weight. We helped to restore security to our waters and protect the livelihoods of our people.
Meanwhile, a quieter but more permanent threat was taking shape: climate change. Coral bleaching, coastal erosion and rising sea levels were affecting our islands directly. Seychelles was facing an environmental crisis it had done little to create, while international climate finance for SIDS was still limited and slow.
From vulnerability to vision: the Blue Economy:
It was in this context that the idea of the Blue Economy began to crystallise. For years, I had been convinced that our future would be decided not only on land, but in the ocean that surrounds us. Seychelles has a small landmass but a vast maritime zone. If we could rethink the ocean as a space for sustainable development – not just for exploitation – we could turn vulnerability into opportunity.
When I began advocating publicly for the Blue Economy, there was scepticism at home and abroad. Some considered it too abstract, others thought it was merely a new label for old ideas. But we persisted in giving the concept substance: through marine spatial planning, through the designation of large marine protected areas, and through innovative mechanisms such as the debt for nature swap we concluded in 2014 with the Paris Club and The Nature Conservancy.
That agreement restructured part of our national debt in exchange for robust commitments to ocean conservation. It helped to fund protection for 30% of our waters and became a model for other countries. Seychelles, once seen only as a vulnerable small island state, was now recognised as a pioneer of the Blue Economy and of nature based solutions.
Investing in people
Economic and environmental reforms are only part of the story. I have always believed that the most important investment a country can make is in its people. That is why I supported the creation of the University of Seychelles, at a time when some argued that our nation was too small to have its own university. The aim was simple: to give Seychellois youth the chance to pursue tertiary education at home and build their future on their own soil.
We complemented this with initiatives like the Young Leaders Programme, designed to prepare promising young Seychellois for positions of responsibility, including through postgraduate studies.
For me, these efforts are as central to our Independence story as any economic reform or diplomatic achievement. Independence is not only about sovereignty; it is about giving every generation the tools to shape its own destiny.
Looking ahead: Seychelles in 2076:
Today, as Seychelles celebrates 50 years of Independence, I am often asked what I see when I look ahead to the next half century. My vision is of a nation that has completed the journey from perceived vulnerability to respected ocean leadership: a country that manages its maritime space wisely, that uses its natural resources sustainably, and that shares its experience with other island and coastal states.
But my greatest pride is not in the policies we have already put in place. It lies in the potential I see in our people, especially our young people. They are better educated, more connected and more globally aware than my generation was in 1976. If they remain united, keep faith with our values and dare to innovate, I believe the Seychelles of tomorrow can be even more remarkable than the Seychelles of today.
At midnight on that first Independence Day, the poem “Il est Minuit” captured a sense of ending and beginning. Fifty years on, I feel we are once again at such a threshold. The first chapter of an independent Seychelles has been written. The next will be authored by a new generation.
My hope is that they will write it with courage, imagination and love for these islands and the ocean that surrounds them.
IPS UN Bureau
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