HUMANIFESTO – EDITION 4

Amman, Jordan - 23 December 2024

Dear Humanitarian Community, 

I am writing from Amman, at the end of a week that also took in Beirut, Damascus, Homs, Aleppo, Idlib, Istanbul, Ankara, and South Lebanon. 

Along the way, I heard countless stories from Syrians at this moment of seismic change. The refugee who had gone to Saydadna Prison to seek news of eleven relatives, and had kept a noose he had found as the only connection to them. The twelve-year-old girl whose legs had been blown off by a landmine and wanted to become a doctor to save her sister’s legs. The displaced mother of four planning against the odds to take the degree she had never been able to start. The aspiring poet who left me with her powerful words on language coming to her after silence, and the grass growing back on the rubble. The many people who said that once they had water, food, and power (in both its forms), they would not just rebuild their lives but export compassion to others. 

I saw the leaders of the caretaker government, after which the UN Secretary General issued a statement on our efforts to scale up humanitarian support. As I’ve said in interviews, I stressed the vital role of women and girls of Syria, and that we would judge the potential partnership on practical outcomes (as they should judge us). We discussed the challenges of governing, and the possible lessons of post conflict transitions in Libya, Iraq, Lebanon, and Afghanistan. As I briefed the Security Council from Damascus, I hope that meaningful progress is possible, for the sake of the Syrian people, that puts the international community on the path of lifting sanctions and scaling up support. 

It was moving to be back in Lebanon, especially to meet several of the bodyguards who kept me out of the wrong kind of trouble there for four years. The country has been through so much since I left in 2015. I toured the devastation in the South, and heard much of the impacts of the port explosion and economic crash. I am a little less idealistic than I was a decade ago but haven’t stopped believing in the Lebanese people’s ability to find a brighter future. 

While in the region I also spent time with our teams working on the near impossible humanitarian effort in Gaza. I’ve issued a stocktake on the challenges we face trying to save the lives of survivors. 

In a great example of the efficiency they are promoting, Jan Egeland and Joyce Msuya have submitted an excellent report on tackling bureaucracy in the humanitarian sector, on time and packed with ideas. Given the importance of this work, and my commitment to transparency, I am publishing their recommendations, and my response. The context for our vital work as humanitarians is bracing: climate crises, the ferocity and duration of conflicts, dramatic funding cuts, the unprecedented rise in IHL violations and impunity, and the need to win afresh the case for global solidarity. I know from discussions in my first five weeks that we must change to meet the new context, and that humanitarians want to do so in a way that prioritises support for those we serve. 

In my reply, I have pledged to personally champion five themes: to liberate humanitarians to do humanitarian work; strengthen humanitarian leadership, build a much more agile crisis response; streamline the IASC, and make OCHA an innovation pioneer. I know that much of this will be challenging, and we won’t get consensus. Culture change will be necessary alongside the systems change. Reform will be a journey not a destination, and must be a collective effort rather than top down. We should be ready to adjust and learn as we go. But we need to make tough choices if we are to preserve the core humanitarian mission in which we believe. Ideas, course corrections and energy very welcome.

These first five weeks in the job have been a huge learning curve. It has been a great privilege to meet hundreds of colleagues, and to listen and learn from them, and from those we serve. I am struck through my visits that there are times and places where our missions need more voltage; others where we need reassurance and encouragement; and others where we need to take a breath, and pace ourselves. Humanitarian systems often need to move faster, while humanitarians sometimes need to move slower, and make sure they are taking time to look after themselves. 

So, I hope that those able to take a break will do so. 2025 is set to be a tough year: we will need a sense of genuine camaraderie and collective support, and huge reserves of humanitarian spirit. 

This week’s music has been Michael Kiwanuka’s new album (especially, in snatched moments on the road, Lowdown part ii). I’ve been too tired to read, but my old friend Lebanese PM Najib Mikati recommends David Hale’s new book on US/Lebanon. I may seek out something more escapist for the coming days.

All best wishes,

Tom