HUMANIFESTO – EDITION 8

Jerusalem, 2 February 2025

Dear Humanitarian Community,

I first visited Jerusalem over thirty years ago, as an English teacher. I was struck then, as today, by the potency of the emotion and the vividness of the colour. Everything is dialed up here, including the beauty and the pain. 

I then visited often as a diplomat, including with several Prime Ministers. Those trips were always complex and tense. Every logistics decision, public and private message, is hyper political. We would spend the flight, as I have done today, weighing these choices and imagining the myriad ways it could go wrong. I realize I’ve now spent almost three decades talking about the two-state solution. And don’t plan to stop. Meanwhile, the job for humanitarians is to reach as many survivors as possible and be clear that all violence against all civilians must stop. We have moved almost 10,000 trucks into Gaza in the two weeks since the ceasefire, but we need to do so much more. 

A wise predecessor told me recently that in this job you must constantly make tough, tactical calls; while being clear about who we must aspire to be. Only do the first, and you get lost in the political churn. Only do the second, and you never get anything done. I’ll be in the West Bank, Israel, Gaza, Jordan, and Egypt.

Last week in New York was also dominated by our work to respond to the fighting in DRC and the kidnapping of colleagues in Yemen. I briefed the Security Council on Sudan and was pleased to see humanitarian access so prominent in their subsequent statement. I also spoke at an event with the ICRC on International Humanitarian Law.

Plus, of course, the US temporary freeze in aid. For decades, the US has led global humanitarian funding: last year almost half the money we raised. Millions of lives are saved because of American generosity, and I don’t believe the US wants to give up that leadership. But even this brief pause puts work at risk. So we gathered as a humanitarian community to support those we serve, and each other, through the uncertainty. I remain convinced that we need quiet, sober engagement with our new US partners and those who know them best; to continue our urgent efficiency and innovation work; work with others who can help keep essential operations running; and argue afresh the case for global solidarity. It is cheaper to stop wars and tackle poverty than to deal with their consequences. 

Being in New York was also a chance to lean into the challenge of managing our complex, brilliant organization. I gathered our OCHA global management team to debate how we double down on what we do well, and take decisive, collective action against culture and behaviours that hold us back. Like many in the humanitarian community, we have a strong sense of purpose, courage to persevere in front of daunting odds, and talented people who are willing to work harder than anyone because we believe in what we do. But we are overstretched and must be less hierarchical and bureaucratic. I hope we will show not tell how we are changing. We want to feel excited at the privilege and responsibility of this work; liberated to be humanitarians; and able to learn, adapt, and speak truth to power. 

This week, in preparation for my stay there, I’ve been reading Daybreak in Gaza, edited by Mahmoud Muna and Matthew Teller, with Juliette Touma and Jayyab Abusafia. Moving accounts of real lives. When some try to dehumanize, it is even more important to protect the human connection. As I mentioned in this podcast, this is powerfully argued by the great Jacob Bronowski.  

A heavier update, for obvious reasons. So here’s a rare cover that is even better than the original. 

All best wishes,

Tom