Perhaps never before has the modern humanitarian movement—born of “Dunantism” and later of the “no-borders” movement—faced such a vast, brutal, rapid, and radical upheaval of the world—and of “its” world. With the emergence of global threats, interlinked crises feeding off one another, and a proliferation of unavoidable challenges, this is a decisive moment for humanitarian organizations, as their future role—or their disappearance as obsolete and ill-suited structures—is partly at stake here.

Before exploring the determining factors, the challenges, and possible responses, we must start with the needs. The needs of people in distress, and the resources hoped for to meet them, along with some key figures.

Current Situation

According to the United Nations, 239 million people “are expected to” need aid in 2026, but available resources will—at best—allow for the rescue of only one in three… Humanitarian aid has thus entered an era of “reprioritizing” needs and, above all, “selective sorting” of potential aid recipients. In this context, the United Nations launched a $23 billion funding appeal in December 2025 to assist… 87 million people in 2026. The goal is to provide vital aid to the most vulnerable, and this $23 billion represents approximately 1% of what the world spends on defense.

However, Tom Fletcher, the UN Under-Secretary-General for Humanitarian Affairs and Emergency Relief Coordinator, emphasized during a press conference in Geneva on March 11, 2026, that this humanitarian appeal remains two-thirds underfunded…

At the same time, as Alain Boinet, founder of Défis Humanitaires, points out in a recent editorial, the world’s population of 8 billion will reach 10 billion in 25 years, and Africa’s population will have doubled. The demographic time bomb is ticking, while on January 20, 2025, the U.S. administration suspended all programs of the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), before abolishing the agency, whose mission was taken over by the U.S. Department of State, which lacks the necessary experience. This cut in U.S. funding has had, and will continue to have, a devastating impact on countless essential programs—whether in health, epidemic prevention, or food security. USAID funding accounted for more than 40% of global humanitarian aid in 2024, supported projects in 158 countries, and provided up to 50% of total humanitarian aid for some of them… Even though some “life-saving aid” programs may have been exempted from funding suspensions, the volume of aid is in no way comparable to the previous situation; moreover, the new conditions imposed by the State Department—which we will return to—restrict access to the U.S. “funding window.” Moreover, the U.S. decision is merely the brutal, indiscriminate, and extreme manifestation of a trend toward reduced humanitarian funding, particularly in the West, a trend that began well before January 20, 2025.

Finally, the blockade of the Strait of Hormuz following the war in Iran—due to the skyrocketing logistics and transportation costs for humanitarian organizations (as Tom Fletcher warned last March) and the resulting blockade of fertilizer components—could have catastrophic consequences, just as the planting season is about to begin in many parts of the world. Models from the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations (FAO) predict a collapse in grain yields of up to 50% in major African regions for the upcoming season. The World Food Programme (WFP) estimates that this fertilizer crisis is likely to expose an additional 45 million people to acute food insecurity, or even localized famines in already fragile areas (the Sahel, Somalia, Sudan, etc.). Time is running out: May 15 is considered the latest date by which fertilizer can be delivered in time. After that, the 2026 season will be partially lost. Alexander De Croo, Administrator of the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP), estimated on April 23 that the effects of the blockade linked to the war in Iran would also “push another 30 million people back into poverty.”

Thus, caught between a sharp rise in both humanitarian needs and aid costs, yet a reordering of priorities in the response amid a global crisis of financial resources, humanitarian aid is caught in a tragic “scissors effect.”

One blade of the scissors is the shift in priorities for Western countries when it comes to budgetary trade-offs. High-intensity warfare has returned to our continent and threatens to spread to the Middle East and erupt in Asia. The time has come for rearmament. The use of force is unchecked in international relations; empires are back; threats are growing and converging. As in the Persian Gulf, where the blockade of the Strait of Hormuz is pushing China and Asian countries into a corner—beyond the risk of uncontrollable regional spread—and plunging an already-struggling global economy… by the war in Ukraine, where the conflict—reignited on the Russian side by rising oil prices that finance its war—could spill over, leading to a direct NATO-Russia confrontation. During a hearing at the National Assembly to present the draft update to the 2024-30 Military Programming Law, the Chief of the General Staff, General Fabien Mandon, stated, “The persistence of a Russian threat on our continent, involving open warfare, remains my primary concern in terms of military preparedness.” In this context, the need to make up for the decline in military resources resulting from the illusion of “peace dividends” is, at the very least, legitimate, if not essential. The tide has turned, and humanitarian aid no longer occupies the forefront of concerns, whether among the general public or among decision-makers.

Risks

In this coming world of “global violence,” will humanitarian organizations be able to find their place and their role? These organizations, structured, standardized, and “managed” like businesses (they have a “methodology” for everything…), sometimes plagued by a risk aversion fueled by the constraints imposed by donors, will they rediscover a culture of boldness, adaptability to unprecedented circumstances and contexts, and improvisation (almost a dirty word today…), and do so in very difficult, complex, and highly insecure contexts, thereby remaining indispensable? It is possible; it is not certain…

More specifically, high-intensity conflicts mean dangerous, denied, or contested humanitarian access, as well as the disruption or breakdown of supply chains, logistics, and communication systems (such as the Internet and satellite networks). How many humanitarian organizations have undertaken a fundamental review of their operational models, strategies, and modus operandi in order to adapt? There is a strong temptation to believe that the storm will pass, that everything can continue as is, and that the usual resources will always be available.

Another growing risk is the politicization of humanitarian aid. This risk has two aspects, one coming from the outside and one arising from within:

Abroad, humanitarian aid—which has always been somewhat political—is becoming, in an unchecked surge, increasingly politicized and manipulated by policymakers and donors. The best example of this is the conditions set by the U.S. Department of State, whose website features a statement signed by Secretary of State Marco Rubio: “Foreign aid programs that align with the administration’s policies (and serve U.S. interests) will be administered by the Department of State, where they will be implemented with greater accountability, strategy, and efficiency.” The definition of “serving U.S. interests” is left to the discretion of the U.S. administration. Furthermore, at the end of the text, it states, “…we will prioritize trade over aid, opportunity over dependency, and investment over assistance”… The politicization of aid is also becoming a commercial endeavor from which returns and profitability are expected… While the U.S. stance is openly acknowledged, it would be naive to think it stands alone. When China, the Gulf states, or other sovereign wealth funds (and, in its own way, Europe…) finance humanitarian aid, they never forget—and will forget even less tomorrow than today—their interests and political agendas.

Internally, over the past decade or so, we have seen a growing politicization of humanitarian organizations themselves. Without always realizing it, these organizations are shaped and driven by ideologies that often lead them to seek to impose a progressive Western vision through their actions. The paradox is that, while their rhetoric speaks of “decolonizing humanitarian aid,” its practical application often amounts to a form of “neo-colonialism 3.0” driven by the certainty of being right. Moreover, the idea that “humanitarian work is political and must play a political role” is becoming increasingly widespread. Beyond that, in the context of certain conflicts, we have witnessed a “geopolitical politicization” of humanitarian aid, which has not always upheld the principles it professes—independence, impartiality, and neutrality—by effectively “taking sides” in both action and rhetoric, sometimes without nuance, for one “camp” and against the other. The problem, however, is that the general public “sees” the political and ideological excesses of NGOs and might conclude that, at heart, businesses are more reliable, less politicized, and less partisan. Ultimately, there is a risk of the humanitarian system committing “suicide” through a loss of credibility. The humanitarian sector must ask itself the fundamental question: “Do we want to save people/populations, or do we want to save/change the world and defend ideological ‘causes’?”

The ambition to save or change the world is, in part, driven by the desire to “do it all”—from lifesaving to development, from emergency response to the fight against climate change and gender policy… And all this while actively engaging in what is called “localization of aid”—that is, while concretely committing… to disengaging… The intentions are admirable, but are they realistic? He who grasps at too much loses everything…

Finally, shouldn’t the emergence and spread, at breakneck speed, of Artificial Intelligence (AI) in the humanitarian sector—as everywhere else—give us pause for thought? AI is an extraordinary tool, and we must take advantage of the opportunities it offers to increase our efficiency tenfold, particularly when it comes to tedious, time-consuming tasks (compliance, data and inventory management and analysis, purchasing procedures, etc.). But it is a tool that can potentially be shut down or interrupted—or even manipulated. And it is a tool that, by virtue of its “training,” has biases; notably, it is designed to overwhelmingly favor the “probable” over the “improbable.” Yet the improbable (and the unprecedented!) remains possible… and sometimes occurs. Have we considered the degree of dependence we can—or cannot—accept on this tool? Have we considered the risks, in the near future, of delegating too many decisions to AI? Will the director of operations for a humanitarian NGO be an AI the day after tomorrow? Keeping the human element in humanitarian decision-making must be an imperative that the urgency of action cannot override.

Possible solutions?

Let’s try to outline a few imperfect and partial approaches as responses to these challenges.

Return to fundamental principles. This may be the most essential step. Independence, impartiality, and neutrality—not merely as proclamations, but as concrete, daily demonstrations on the ground, stripped of any biased interpretation, preconceived ideology, complacency, or prejudice.

Accepting that we can no longer consider ourselves “untouchable.” Humanitarians, because they strive to “do good,” often feel it is unacceptable to be asked to explain themselves or be held accountable for certain aspects of their methods, their choices, or their messaging. All the more so if it is established authorities who take the liberty of questioning them or challenging their actions, their stance, or, once again, their complacency. Must independence mean immunity by divine right?

Refocus on our core missions: emergency response and post-emergency recovery. Stop trying to tackle everything and do it all. Saving lives and communities—that is what still makes us indispensable, and it is our sole “cause.” Of course, post-emergency work must also strengthen communities’ resilience to future shocks. And of course, the fate of the planet and climate change are issues and problems of overwhelming importance. But the comprehensive and decisive response to these goes beyond our mandate, our mission—the one for which people still believe in us, and whose impact depends on us.

Rethinking our supply chains and logistics. Not changing everything, but examining their vulnerabilities, imagining scenarios of disruption and unavailability. Consider alternative solutions, calculate their costs, and model them. And contemplate what cannot be modeled—a “logistics of the improbable, of the unprecedented”? Do the same with our communication tools (satellites, the internet). Do not abandon what works today—and even optimize it—but be prepared to do without it if necessary. Use digital tools and AI, for example, for distributing digital cash, mapping needs and beneficiaries, or collecting personalized information, but be able to quickly revert to a more “rustic” approach to decision-making and operations if necessary. Honesty compels us to acknowledge that, in many fields, numerous humanitarian teams demonstrate this resilience every day. All the more reason to continue cultivating it as our most valuable asset. This “wide gap” between mastering the most advanced tools and mastering the absence of them will be decisive for the future.

We must increasingly pool resources and tools—logistics, procurement, data, HR, and more—among humanitarian organizations, and innovate even further. When resources are in free fall, needs and costs are skyrocketing, and opportunities for efficiency gains are scarce, can we afford to hesitate in using them? The UN, a complex, cumbersome machine whose operations are far from streamlined, is attempting to set an example by launching a movement to “integrate” its agencies under the “New Humanitarian Pact.”

We must continue to develop, through coordination among humanitarian organizations, advocacy efforts directed at policymakers and donors—not focused on an illusory “We want things to go back to the way they were,” because that will not happen. In a sense, the humanitarian sector has been the spoiled child of a prosperous and peaceful Western society—a wonderful interlude that has now come to an end. Advocate for and defend a simple demand: “Do everything possible to meet humanitarian needs,” by demonstrating the impact of humanitarian action and its leverage in preventing future disasters—disasters far more severe and costly in terms of human lives and financial resources than the aid itself. In this effort, diversify the types of donors (something most NGOs have already undertaken), turning resolutely, following the example of the UN itself, toward civil society, businesses, and the general public; Tom Fletcher recently highlighted the launch of a global public campaign to bridge the remaining gap in UN aid funding for 2026… Antoine Vaccaro, President of Force for Good, spoke in a recent article in Défis Humanitaires about “Philanthropy in a Time of Chaos,” emphasizing that generosity has not disappeared but has evolved, and that humanitarian NGOs, now also immersed in a “war economy,” must learn to navigate and relearn how to mobilize by answering the question, “What have we made possible with our financial commitment to your cause?”…

Are these approaches revolutionary or magical? Is the outcome guaranteed? No. But they are clear-eyed, realistic, and indispensable. Perhaps unprecedented situations will give rise to other unprecedented approaches.

A conclusion in the form of a question: can the humanitarian sector afford the luxury of waiting for the return of the golden age? Most humanitarian organizations, which have begun adapting to the “great uncertainty” engulfing the world, have already started to answer.

 

Pierre Brunet

 

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Pierre Brunet is a novelist and a member of the Board of Directors of the NGO SOLIDARITES INTERNATIONAL. He became involved in humanitarian work in Rwanda in 1994, then in 1995 in Bosnia, and has since returned to the field (Afghanistan in 2003, Calais jungle in 2016, migrant camps in Greece and Macedonia in 2016, Iraq and Northeast Syria in 2019, Ukraine in 2023). Pierre Brunet’s novels are published by Calmann-Lévy: “Barnum” in 2006, “JAB” in 2008, “Fenicia” in 2014 and “Le triangle d’incertitude” in 2017. A former journalist, Pierre Brunet regularly publishes analytical and opinion articles, or columns.

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Discover the other articles of this edition :

• Humanitarian work, hit but not sunk, get up! – Alain Boinet
• Interview with Pascal Ausseur, Director of the Mediterranean Foundation for Strategic Studies (FMES)
• Interview with Manuel Patrouillard, Executive Director of the Handicap International Federation
• 50 years of geopolitics : after leaving the benches of college – Salomée Languille