Accountability on Stage: A Talk with UN Special Rapporteur oPt
Nearly 1,000 Voices Gather in Amman for a Public Dialogue on International Law, Corporate Responsibility, and Palestine Anchoring Justice, Legal Evidence, Civic Mobilization, and the Future of Accountability Discussing the Stories Behind the Reports and the Book When the World Sleeps: Lived Experience and Collective Memory The Renaissance Strategic Center (RSC) at the Arab Renaissance for Democracy and Development (ARDD), convened “A Talk with Francesca Albanese,” United Nations Special Rapporteur on the situation of human rights in the Palestinian Territory occupied since 1967. Held as part of RSC’s Question of Palestine Program, the event brought together nearly 1,000 participants, including Their Royal Highnesses Princess Basma bint Talal, Princess Ghaida, and Princess Dina Mired, alongside parliamentarians, senators, former ministers, diplomats, academics, civil society leaders, youth representatives, and members of the international community. The dialogue featured international lawyer and Chief Editor of the Palestine Yearbook of International Law, Dr. Anis Kassim, and was moderated by Adv. Samar Muhareb, Executive Director of ARDD, presented by Adv. Mary Nazzal Batayneh, justice activist, barrister, and impact-driven entrepreneur. Opening the evening, Adv. Mary Nazzal Batayneh emphasized the importance of translating legal analysis into collective action and public engagement: “This evening is about understanding the moment we are living in, and how principled legal work can be transformed into meaningful action toward accountability.” Honoring Principled Leadership Moderating the dialogue, Adv. Samar Muhareb underscored that the gathering was also intended as recognition of principled leadership within international human rights work: “Tonight, we gather not only to listen, but to honor Francesca Albanese — a voice of courage and integrity whose work reminds us that international law must remain anchored in justice and human dignity.” Muhareb reaffirmed ARDD’s commitment to sustaining inclusive spaces where legal scholarship, policy dialogue, and civic engagement intersect. Shedding light on economic responsibility and contemporary conflict, Dr. Anis Kassim introduced Albanese’s latest report and reflected on the significance of her contribution to contemporary international legal discourse: “Francesca Albanese stands among the strongest contemporary defenders of dignity, peace, and justice. Her reports present rigorous legal analysis and documented facts that will remain essential to international accountability efforts.” He emphasized the critical role of independent legal documentation in informing judicial processes and preserving the historical record. Albanese’s report From Economy of Occupation to Economy of Genocide, examines the intersection between economic systems and situations of occupation and conflict, raising important discussions regarding corporate responsibility and international legal obligations. Albanese noted that modern conflicts increasingly operate through interconnected global economic and technological structures, shaping realities far beyond traditional political arenas. During her talk, Francesca Albanese reaffirmed the legal foundation of her UN mandate: “My role is to document and monitor violations of international law — no more and no less.” Addressing regional concerns surrounding Israeli expansionist political narratives, she cautioned against interpreting developments solely through territorial frameworks: “If we see this only as territorial expansion, we misunderstand it. It is a project of domination that does not necessarily require boots on the ground.” Her remarks situated the Palestinian question within broader transformations affecting governance, technology, and power relations within the contemporary international system. The evening also marked the Jordan presentation of Albanese’s book When the World Sleeps, written alongside her UN reporting work. Moving beyond technical legal discourse, the book presents Palestine through encounters with individuals whose lived experiences illuminate the human realities behind legal terminology. Reflecting on the book’s purpose, Albanese explained: “I wanted to tell how I came to understand Palestine, not only through law, but through people and their stories.” Now translated into eighteen languages, the publication reflects growing international engagement with accessible approaches linking international law, lived experience, and collective memory. The event concluded with a public book signing attended by participants from diplomatic, academic, and civil society communities. At the conclusion of the discussion, H.R.H. Princess Basma bint Talal expressed appreciation to Ms. Albanese for her steadfast dedication to advancing international legal accountability and for amplifying principled voices working toward justice and human dignity. ARDD also extends its sincere appreciation to the Government of Jordan for its continued support in enabling constructive dialogue and facilitating spaces that bring together international expertise, civil society, and public engagement around issues of regional and global importance. ARDD further extends its gratitude to the Landmark Hotel Amman, partners, and participants whose contributions enabled a meaningful and widely attended exchange.
Localizing Social Security Reform in the Arab World:Protecting the Social Contract Before Protecting the Balance Sheet
Across the Arab world, social security reform is increasingly framed as a technical inevitability. Demographic shifts, fiscal pressures, debt sustainability concerns, and labor market volatility are presented as universal challenges requiring standardized solutions. Retirement ages are raised, contribution periods are extended, replacement rates are recalibrated, investment strategies are expanded. Therefore, the language became actuarial, but the tone is managerial. But social security is not merely an actuarial formula, it is the institutional expression of a social contract. It determines how societies distribute risk across generations, how they protect deferred wages, and how they guarantee dignity in old age. When reform becomes primarily a fiscal exercise, especially in economies shaped by informality, displacement, and fragile labor markets, the result can be structural misalignment rather than sustainability. Accordingly, the Arab region must reform its social security systems, but it must localize that reform. The Global Reform Template and Its Assumptions Since the 1990s, pension reform worldwide has been shaped by frameworks promoted by international financial institutions, particularly the World Bank and the IMF. The World Bank’s 1994 report “Averting the Old Age Crisis” introduced the multi-pillar pension model, combining public mandatory systems with funded private components. Over time, reform vocabulary consolidated around parametric adjustments, fiscal consolidation, funded investment strategies, and diversification through capital markets. These approaches were presented as “best practice”, technically sound, globally tested, economically rational. Yet subsequent experience revealed complexity. Several countries that adopted partial or full privatization, including Argentina, Hungary, and Poland, later reversed or modified reforms due to high transition costs, administrative burdens, and coverage gaps. In some cases, transition financing costs exceeded 1–2% of GDP annually, funded pillars did not automatically expand coverage among informal workers, and administrative fees reduced expected returns. Hence, the lesson is not that reform is unnecessary, but it is that models embed assumptions. They assume high formal employment, continuous 30–35 year contribution histories, stable wage reporting, deep capital markets, and strong regulatory institutions. In many Arab economies, these assumptions do not hold. Informality and Structural Exclusion Globally, the International Labour Organization estimates that nearly 60% of the world’s workforce operates in informal employment. In parts of the Arab region, informality ranges from 30% to over 70% depending on sector and country. Female labor force participation in several Arab states remains among the lowest globally, often below 25%, with employment patterns shaped by unpaid care responsibilities and intermittent engagement. Youth unemployment frequently exceeds 20–30%. Refugees and displaced populations form a significant share of labor ecosystems in several countries. A pension architecture built on uninterrupted formal employment implicitly excludes: Seasonal and casual workers Informal micro-enterprises Migrant and refugee labor participants Women with interrupted contribution histories When retirement ages are raised in systems where contribution density is already low, actuarial sustainability may improve on paper while effective coverage declines in practice. Therefore, reform without structural adaptation risks codifying exclusion, and localization requires recognizing hybrid labor realities rather than designing systems around idealized formal labor markets. Fiscal Consolidation and Social Protection Space Across developing economies, pension reform often unfolds within broader macroeconomic stabilization programs. Studies reviewing IMF-supported programs in recent years have shown that in a majority of cases, fiscal space contracted despite the presence of “social spending floors.” While these floors signal recognition of social needs, they often function as minimum thresholds rather than expansion frameworks. Parametric reforms, raising retirement ages, extending contribution periods, tightening eligibility, are commonly recommended under fiscal consolidation logic. Such measures may strengthen actuarial ratios. But when applied in contexts characterized by informality, displacement, and fragile job creation, they can reduce effective accessibility. Social security sustainability is necessary, yet sustainability strategies cannot be detached from labor structure, and localization is not resistance to fiscal responsibility, however it urges the recognition that fiscal metrics and social cohesion are interconnected. Pension Funds as Development Instruments: Opportunity and Risk In many Arab countries, pension funds represent some of the largest domestic institutional investors. They hold significant shares of sovereign bonds and participate in strategic sectors such as infrastructure, real estate, banking, and energy. Globally, pension funds in several middle-income countries hold more than 40–50% of assets in government debt instruments. In fragile or debt-constrained contexts, pension reserves can quietly become substitutes for missing revenue or vehicles for national development financing. Investment is necessary for sustainability, in one condition, hierarchy to be a must: Protection must come first, sustainability second, then investment third. But When pension reserves are used to cover fiscal deficits, or finance politically directed projects, and compensate for declining aid flows, the institutional identity of the system shifts. These assets represent accumulated worker contributions, and deferred wages, not state liquidity, or sovereign wealth fund, or development bank, and for sure it is not a short-term fiscal stabilizer. Localization requires structural safeguards: legal insulation of reserves, transparent investment mandates centered on prudence, limits on government borrowing from pension assets, and independent actuarial oversight. As without governance clarity, even technically sound systems become vulnerable to politicization. The Targeting Dilemma Over the past two decades, global discourse has shifted from universal welfare expansion toward targeted safety nets. Means-tested assistance and digital registries have expanded in many developing countries. Targeted systems can reduce immediate fiscal costs. However, international evaluations have documented significant exclusion errors in means-tested approaches. Administrative burdens often fall disproportionately on informal workers. Systems designed to minimize leakage sometimes inadvertently minimize access. Universal or quasi-universal models, while more costly upfront, tend to generate stronger compliance cultures and social legitimacy over time. For Arab societies grappling with trust deficits and fragile labor markets, legitimacy becomes secondary variable, not central to sustainability. Displacement, Mobility, and Hybrid Labor Ecosystems Several Arab countries host substantial refugee populations. Workers frequently move between formal and informal sectors, between legality and precariousness, and across borders. Designing social security systems as if labor markets resemble stable OECD formalization patterns ignores this reality. Localization requires flexible contribution recognition, portability mechanisms, and institutional arrangements that reflect labor mobility. Without such mechanisms, reform reinforces segmentation rather than protection. Gender and Structural Neutrality Uniform retirement
Why an Option to Retire at 55 May Be Reasonable for Some Women Toward a Fair Approach Based on the Life Cycle and Economic Dignity
In public debates on pension systems in the Arab region, the issue is often framed primarily in terms of financial sustainability: fund deficits, rising life expectancy, and growing pressure on public expenditure. Yet, important as this perspective may be, it often overlooks a deeper question linked to social justice between women and men: do current pension designs truly reflect the realities of women’s lives, and their professional and social trajectories? Proposing the option for women to retire at age 55 should not be understood as a call for women to withdraw from the labour market. Rather, it is an approach that recognises the structural differences between men’s and women’s life paths, and the accumulated, often invisible burdens women carry over decades. Research literature in occupational health, economic sociology, and social protection policy suggests that making retirement at age 55, or flexible retirement starting from that age, an available option for women rather than a mandatory rule, can be part of a fairer and more life-course-sensitive design. This argument is grounded in a set of interconnected considerations: A health and psychological consideration: reducing chronic stress and cumulative exhaustion after decades of combining paid work with unpaid care responsibilities, which can improve quality of life and support preventive health in midlife. An economic and professional consideration: enabling a gradual transition from full-time employment to more flexible and productive forms of work suited to this stage (consulting, community work, small entrepreneurship), rather than an abrupt exit from the public sphere. A family and care consideration: supporting women’s ability to provide care for ageing parents or family members whose needs often increase at this stage, without care becoming a politically or economically unrecognised burden. A labour market consideration: contributing to the redistribution of opportunities in labour markets facing high youth unemployment, through gradual solutions such as partial retirement or reduced working hours, rather than a zero-sum trade-off between generations. To understand these considerations within a coherent explanatory framework, the literature draws on several theoretical approaches that help interpret “early retirement” as a life-course transition rather than a withdrawal from productivity. Among the most prominent are the following. First: The Life Course Perspective, Reading Invisible Accumulation Life Course Theory emphasises that major decisions in midlife are not isolated from the historical and social context that preceded them. In the Arab region, women often begin their professional lives under strong family expectations, then enter motherhood and caregiving stages without a fair redistribution of roles within the household. International Labour Organization data show that women perform three times as much unpaid work as men, including childcare, care for elderly parents, and household management. This invisible labour is not counted in GDP calculations, nor is it recognised in pensionable years of service. Yet it steadily depletes women’s physical and psychological capital. By the time women reach their mid-fifties, they have not only completed “30 years of work,” but 30 years of double work. Second: Midlife Health, a Neglected Dimension in Public Policy Age 55 roughly coincides with a significant biological transition in women’s lives: the period before and after menopause. World Health Organization reports indicate that this phase may be associated with higher rates of anxiety and sleep disorders, as well as increased risks of heart disease under chronic stress. Occupational health studies also show that long-term exposure to work-related stress increases the likelihood of burnout and depression, particularly among women who carry additional caregiving responsibilities. In this context, reducing work-related pressure at this stage should not be treated as a luxury, but as an investment in public health and a way to reduce the costs of treatment and healthcare later in life. Third: Redefining Productivity, From Employment to Purpose Socioemotional Selectivity Theory (Laura Carstensen) explains that as individuals age, they tend to reorder priorities, shifting from long-term institutional achievement toward meaning, relationships, and quality of life. This shift does not mean lower productivity; rather, it reflects a change in its form. Many women at this stage move into advisory roles, volunteering, community engagement, or establish small initiatives grounded in accumulated experience. Accordingly, retirement at 55 should not be understood as an exit from the public sphere, but as a transformation in the nature of participation. Fourth: Social Justice Between Women and Men and Social Security Systems Pension systems in most Arab countries were historically designed around the “male breadwinner” model, assuming continuous and uninterrupted career paths. Women’s trajectories, however, often include periods of interruption due to motherhood or caregiving. As a result, many women receive lower pensions despite their greater overall social contribution. From the perspective of social justice between women and men, it becomes legitimate to consider policies that recognise this structural gap, such as: Counting care periods within years of service. • Allowing flexible retirement without harsh penalties. • Providing professional transition programmes after age 55. Fifth: The Macroeconomic Dimension, Between Sustainability and Flexibility The financial dimension cannot be ignored. Social security funds in a number of Arab countries face real sustainability challenges. However, the solution does not lie in raising retirement ages uniformly without accounting for differences between women and men. A more balanced approach includes: Adopting partial retirement models. • Allowing reduced working hours before full retirement. • Providing incentives for voluntary retirement savings for women from an early age. In this way, financial sustainability can be protected while respecting the specificity of women’s labour market trajectories. Sixth: From Protection to Empowerment At its core, this debate is not about exempting women from work, but about empowering them to choose the timing and form of their transition from formal employment to a more flexible stage of life. Policies that are attentive to differences between women and men are not an emotionally driven form of positive discrimination. They are, rather, a correction to historical imbalances in the design of economic systems. When the state grants women the option to retire at 55 within a safe and sustainable framework, it does not diminish women’s productive value. It recognises that economic dignity includes the right
A Talk with Francesca Albanese
The Renaissance Strategic Center at the Arab Renaissance for Democracy and Development (ARDD), in cooperation with Landmark Hotel, cordially invites you to attend A Talk with Francesca Albanese, United Nations Special Rapporteur on the situation of human rights in the Palestinian Territory occupied since 1967. The discussion will feature Dr. Anis Kassim, international lawyer, Chief Editor of the Palestine Yearbook of International Law, and member of the Global Network on the Question of Palestine It will be moderated by Adv. Samar Muhareb, Executive Director of the Arab Renaissance for Democracy and Development (ARDD). The event will be presented by Adv. Mary Nazzal Batayneh, Justice activist, barrister, and impact-driven entrepreneur. To register for the event, please follow the Link (press here), bring the confirmation letter, and attend half an hour ahead of the event
Women in STEM in the Arab World
Blog by Paola Noguera RSC – ARDD intern In 2013, the UN General Assembly adopted a resolution encouraging equal development in technology, science, and innovation for women and girls (United Nations). This year, the International Day of Women and Girls in STEM, celebrated on February 11th, will focus on the role of artificial intelligence (AI) in science and the crucial contribution of women, while also addressing the dangers and risks of their exclusion from this field. This emphasis is vital because women continue to be underrepresented in many sectors, largely due to negative social norms and structural inequalities that have historically limited their access to education, resources, and professional opportunities. Despite the increasing number of women pursuing STEM education in the Arab region, this growth is actually not yet mirrored in the workforce. Scholars attribute this discrepancy to various factors, with societal expectations dictating that women prioritize family responsibilities. Women often find themselves in roles that align with traditional gender norms. After marriage, it is estimated that they spend around 17 hours per week on housework (Aspadmin, 2023), which can significantly hinder their access to STEM careers. Many women gravitate towards academia for its flexibility compared to the corporate sector. Consequently, men are often promoted to senior positions more swiftly and at higher salaries, partly also because they typically take shorter paternity leaves. Furthermore, pervasive gender bias creates significant barriers for women entering the STEM workforce, which has historically been perceived as a male domain. This bias is evident in research publication rates, where it has been observed that men publish between 11% and 51% more than women (El-Ouahi & Larivière, 2023). Nonetheless, women are increasingly making their mark also in STEM fields once considered male-only domains. There has been a notable rise in higher education opportunities for women, with greater representation in STEM disciplines at universities across the region. The Arab world is actually recognized for having one of the highest percentages of women in STEM careers globally (Islam, Samira Ibrahim, 2019), with UNESCO reporting that up to 57% of STEM graduates in Arab countries are women (Raising Gender Equality in STEM Careers, n.d.). One factor contributing to this trend is the region’s rich natural mineral and hydrocarbon resources, which may drive women’s interest in STEM (El-Ouahi & Larivière, 2023). This shift can also be attributed to ongoing efforts by organizations and governments to engage women across various sectors and women’s determination to challenge traditional roles while pursuing personal interests in their academic and professional lives. Notable figures like Zaha Hadid, Anousheh Ansari, and Reem Hamdan exemplify the success women can achieve in these fields. Zaha Hadid, from Iraq, is renowned as the “diva of world architecture” for her major architectural projects, and Reem Hamdan, from Jordan, is currently the Director of Jordan’s electrical distribution company, EDCO, responsible for managing the electrical grid in southern Jordan. However, the underrepresentation of women in the STEM workforce remains a pressing concern, especially as AI technologies rise, which could displace jobs, unequally affecting women. A report by the Jordan Strategy Forum warns that while AI can create new opportunities, it poses risks to human capital, particularly for women in STEM, making them more vulnerable in the evolving job market (The Jordan Strategy Forum, 2025). Civil Society Organizations such as ARDD are actively working on projects to advance women’s development and enhance their leadership roles. One of their recent initiatives, Nidaa´ for Change, was launched in 2025, and aims to empower girls and grassroots networks to advocate for inclusive and transformative education. It has already launched 4 initiatives to promote inclusive education in Amman and Mafraq, among other activities. The “Investing in the Future 2” project explores how AI can support education in Jordan to become more inclusive and higher quality, while also focusing on equity, accessibility, and the ethical use of AI tools. The project also aims to assess AI’s impact, identify potential risks, and develop context-appropriate strategies for integrating AI into schools. Moving forward, it is crucial to continue addressing these issues by combating gender bias and challenging societal expectations surrounding women’s roles within family, academic, and professional contexts. As we celebrate the International Day of Women and Girls in STEM, we must recognize the strides made while also acknowledging the work that remains. By fostering an inclusive environment for women in STEM, we not only empower individual women but also enrich the fields of science and technology with diverse perspectives and ideas. This approach can lead to innovative solutions and advancements that benefit society as a whole, ultimately creating a more equitable future for everyone.
The Story of the Sudanese Camel Corps in Ain Shams
Dr. Ayman Zahry Population and Migration Studies Expert, Member of the Migration and Refugee Forum for the Arab World (MARFA) When we contemplate the map of Cairo’s informal and working-class neighborhoods, the dominant explanation tends to attribute their emergence to poverty, rural-to-urban migration, or demographic pressure. Yet some neighborhoods cannot be understood through such simplification. They were not born solely from the social margins, but from another, less visible margin: the state’s own functional margins. Among the most striking of these cases is the story of the Sudanese Camel Corps soldiers who settled in Ain Shams, one of the most telling narratives of the complex relationship between the military institution, migration, and urban settlement. The Camel Corps were semi-regular military unit that relied on riding camels. They were tasked with securing borders, guarding desert roads, and maintaining security in remote areas. Sudanese soldiers formed the backbone of these forces, drawing on their environmental knowledge, their ability to adapt to desert conditions, and a long history of Sudanese involvement in the Egyptian army. During the early decades of the twentieth century, these units were an essential part of the state’s tools for extending its influence beyond cities, at a time when the civilian bureaucracy had not yet fully matured. At the beginning of the twentieth century, Ain Shams was not the densely populated residential district we know today. Rather, it was a peripheral, semi-desert area on the edge of Cairo. This location made it suitable for establishing military camps: far from residential clusters, yet close to desert movement routes. There, the state set up camps for the Camel Corps as a temporary functional deployment—not as a permanent urban development project. But the city, by its nature, does not always abide by what is temporary. The paradox begins with the end of military service. Between the 1920s and 1930s, the importance of Camel Corps units declined as border-control patterns changed and transportation developed. The missions of some camps ended, without any clear policies accompanying this shift to return soldiers to their original homelands. Many Sudanese soldiers found themselves in an ambiguous position: no longer active soldiers, not returning home, and with no official mechanism to integrate or resettle them. At this moment, the silent transformation began: the camp became a home, temporary residence became permanent, and the soldier became a civilian worker, without announcement or administrative decision. Over the following decades of the twentieth century, some of the Camel Corps men married Egyptian women or Sudanese women residing in Cairo. Networks of kinship and work emerged, and the residential areas around the former camps expanded. Gradually, an informal residential cluster took shape, popularly known as “Al-Haggana” (the Camel Corps). This neighborhood did not arise from an urban plan, nor was it officially recognized in its early stages, but it became rooted in the land through human accumulation and endured out of necessity. The neighborhood, especially in its early stages, retained certain Sudanese cultural features: in physical appearance, in some social customs, in music and celebrations, and in a hybrid dialect combining Sudanese and Egyptian speech. Yet this distinctiveness did not become institutional recognition; it remained present as a form of “difference” within the margins. The residents were not viewed as a group with a specific history, but rather as part of the informal settlements—stripped of their social and military context. The story of the Camel Corps in Ain Shams reveals a truth often overlooked in public debate: the state is not always a victim of informal settlements; it may also be one of their makers. When the state uses a human force for a long period and then abandons it without a post-service vision, it leaves a vacuum that can only be filled by informal settlement. In this case, the neighborhood is not the result of rebellion against the state, but a direct outcome of its neglect. This story illustrates a different trajectory of migration and settlement. The Camel Corps did not come to Cairo in search of work; they arrived through the military institution. Soldiering here is not merely a job, but a channel of resettlement, even if it was not designed that way. This pattern differs from traditional rural-to-urban migration: it began with a clear legal status, continued through long-term residence, and ended in an ambiguous legal and social condition. This story matters today because many discussions about popular neighborhoods treat them only as a present-day problem, detached from their roots. Yet the case of the Camel Corps shows that some neighborhoods are living archives of old decisions, and that understanding today’s urban reality requires returning to the state’s own social history. Place is not merely a built form, but an accumulation of policies, functions, and lives whose official roles ended while their human traces remained. The story of the Sudanese Camel Corps in Ain Shams is not merely the story of a neighborhood. It is a reminder that a city is not built only by maps and decisions, but also by soldiers whose service ended while their lives did not, and by a state that knew how to use them, but did not know how to reintegrate them. Perhaps this short article will inspire a graduate student in sociology, anthropology, history, political science, or even urban planning to conduct a deeper study of this important subject, one that has not received sufficient attention from rigorous academic research.
The Evolution of Inclusive Education in Jordan’s Digital Age
By Abigail Harper, Intern at RSC The theme for this year’s International Day of Education, celebrated annually on 24 January, is “The Power of Youth in Co-creating Education.” As the global community strives to achieve UN Sustainable Development Goal 4 – to “ensure inclusive and equitable quality education and promote lifelong learning opportunities for all” – young people under 30 now make up more than half of the world’s population. As the main beneficiaries of education systems and the majority of the global population, young people must be meaningfully involved in shaping the future of education. This is especially key at a time when global systems and technology evolve at an ever-increasing rate. The theme of last year’s International Day of Education was “Artificial Intelligence and Education: Human Agency in an Automated World.” A year on, the international community continues to witness rapid technological change, raising urgent questions about the purpose, accessibility, and quality of teaching and learning. AI and other emerging technologies offer unmissable opportunities to strengthen education systems. However, they must be introduced thoughtfully, with strong safeguards and clear regulations, to ensure they support learning rather than undermine it. In Jordan, recent investments in education signal growing momentum towards digital transformation. The Jordanian Digital Transformation Strategy and Implementation Plan 2026–2028 outlines the government’s plans to enhance education programmes to equip future generations with the skills needed to excel in the digital age. At the same time, Jordan’s education system continues to face significant challenges. These include high dropout rates linked to socioeconomic pressures, outdated teaching methodologies, and limited infrastructure. Rapid urban growth and the influx of a large refugee population have placed additional strain on already stretched resources. These challenges disproportionately affect girls and displaced children, who often face further barriers such as early marriage, violence, and insecurity. When used responsibly, AI could help ease some of these pressures. In December 2025, Arab Renaissance for Democracy and Development (ARDD) launched “Investing in the Future: Building Sustainable, AI-Enabled Learning Systems in the Jordanian Education Sector.” Built on a comprehensive feasibility study conducted with students, teachers, parents, and the Ministry of Education, the initiative aims to support sustainable, inclusive, and context-responsive AI integration within Jordan’s education system. Zainab Alkhalil, ARDD’s program manager, asserts that “Investing in AI-enabled education is, at its core, an investment in people. When young women and men are empowered to engage critically with technology, they become active co-creators of inclusive, equitable, and future-ready education systems.” Beyond AI-specific initiatives, ARDD continues to invest in youth-led, inclusive education programmes. These projects encourage young people to build up their skill set, equipping them to enter an increasing complex digital labour market. The “Nidaa for Change” Initiative was launched in December 2025 to promote inclusive education for young women. The project aims to support an inclusive, equitable, and accessible educational system in the governorates of Amman and Mafraq, by bringing together students and teachers at one table to discuss on-the-ground challenges and propose participatory solutions that enhance the quality of education in both governorates. It encourages girls to act as a driving force for change, to become advocates and inspiring leaders who can help create a more inclusive educational future for all. Similarly, a 2024 research project explored the role of Technical and Vocational Education and Training (TVET) for young people in Jordan. TVET programmes equip Jordanians and refugees with practical and personal skills that support labour-market integration and self-reliance. For refugees in particular, access to TVET reduces vulnerability to exploitation by opening pathways to economic independence. The research underscores the importance of investing in high-quality TVET systems that benefit both refugees and host communities – strengthening the workforce and contributing to sustainable economic growth. In all of these youth-led initiatives AI plays an increasingly important role, as it filters through to every aspect of day-to-day living. However, the introduction of AI is not without risks. UNESCO warns that rapid technological developments have outpaced policy debates and regulatory frameworks. This is the case, not only for AI in education, but for every area of life in which technology plays an increasingly important role. A recent case study by ARDD examined how Technology-Facilitated Gender-Based Violence (TFGBV) functions as a mechanism of democratic exclusion, further marginalising women by pushing them out of public online spaces. This report demonstrates how widespread digital access can cause harm, rather than bring benefit, to already vulnerable individuals. Gender bias in AI is therefore a serious concern. When LLMs replicate existing stereotypes, they risk reinforcing discrimination against women and girls. “AI systems, learning from data filled with stereotypes, often reflect and reinforce gender biases,” says Zinnya del Villar, the Director of Data, Technology, and Innovation at Data-Pop Alliance. “These biases can limit opportunities and diversity, especially in areas like decision-making, hiring, loan approvals, and legal judgments.” Many Large Language Models (LLMs) also reflect extensive Western bias. Historically, AI research and innovation have been concentrated in Western countries, leading to the dominance of English-language datasets, academic publications, and technological frameworks. Consequently, many AI systems fail to reflect the diversity of global cultures and lived experiences which exist across the world. This can reinforce harmful assumptions and deepen pre-existing systemic inequalities. For example, an AI tool may accurately recognise Western cultural references but struggle to respond meaningfully to questions rooted in local traditions or non-Western contexts, reflecting the system’s lack of global cultural awareness. This challenge extends beyond culture to linguistic access. Languages are deeply tied to cultural memory, identity, and community, yet AI systems often fail to reflect this diversity. Most AI tools, including virtual assistants and LLM chatbots, operate in a limited number of widely spoken languages. Regional dialects and minority languages are often ignored, limiting access and further excluding already marginalised communities. Clearly, without a clear ethical foundation, AI risks deepening existing inequalities in many ways. As such, AI in education must first and foremost be guided by the principles of inclusion, equity, and human agency. Addressing these challenges requires both systemic and human-centred solutions.
Education Under Fire: Hope and Resilience in Gaza on the International Day of Education 2026
By Abigail Harper, RSC Intern “Education for all” is a commitment the global community renews every year on 24 January – the International Day of Education. Established by the United Nations General Assembly Resolution 73/25 in 2018, the day emphasises the central role of education in achieving equality, resilience, and long-term well-being, particularly for communities suffering from displacement, violence, and instability. By marking the day, the UN seeks to raise awareness and encourage global action and investment to ensure inclusive, equitable, and quality education for all. Observed annually, this day underscores that access to education is not merely a policy objective but a fundamental human right and a cornerstone for building inclusive societies. This year, the International Day of Education coincides with global efforts to rebuild education infrastructure in Gaza, where 408 000 school-aged children (62% of the total population) have been unable to access any form of learning in the past two years. What little education is on offer for the remaining 250 000 has been provided by Temporary Learning Spaces, including those managed by UNRWA, as well as the UNRWA Remote Learning Programme. The official beginning of the school year in the Occupied Palestinian Territory in September marked the beginning of the third consecutive school year in which some 658 000 children in Gaza will be deprived of their right to a complete education. The impact of this deprivation cannot be overstated. A recent international study by the University of Cambridge, in partnership with the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestinian Refugees, has warned of the risk of a “lost generation” of children in Gaza. The study, released in early 2026, highlights the real scale of the education crisis in the conflict zone. As of 1 October 2025, OCHA had reported the deaths of 18 069 students and 780 education workers, as well as injuries to 26 391 students and 3 211 teachers. Moreover, approximately 92% of all schools in Gaza require complete physical reconstruction as a result of damage from airstrikes. The two years of conflict in the Occupied Palestinian Territory have had serious educational, physical, and psychological effects on students and teachers, such that even during a ceasefire, reopening schools is not straightforward. In September, at the start of the school year, the UNRWA Commissioner General stated: “Today, instead of going back to school, like most children around the world, around 660 000 girls and boys in Gaza will be sifting through the rubble, desperate, hungry, traumatized, and mostly bereaved. The longer they stay out of school with their trauma, the higher the risk they become a lost generation, sowing the seeds for more hatred and violence.” Lack of infrastructure is not the only barrier to education. Other factors that limit access include the fear that causes thousands of teachers to abandon their posts, or prevents parents from sending their children to school out of fear of the physical danger their children face, both when travelling and while in the classroom. Despite the dangers, many families persist in sending their children to schools, aware that education is the key to unlocking their future. This is the case in Gaza’s “yellow zone”, where families have been forced to create makeshift “tent schools” in dangerous proximity to Israeli forces, which are often exposed to gunfire, forcing the children to interrupt their learning to lie on the ground until the shooting stops. “The destructive impact of conflict is being felt by children right across the region,” said Peter Salama, Regional Director for UNICEF in the Middle East and North Africa. “It’s not just the physical damage being done to schools, but the despair felt by a generation of schoolchildren who see their hopes and futures shattered.” It is important to note that the destruction of education infrastructure is not a side-effect of the conflict. Scholasticide– the systematic and deliberate annihilation of the education system in a region – is part of a long-term plan to erase Palestinian knowledge, culture, and people’s capacity to rebuild both physically and intellectually. UN experts expressed concerns about the pattern of attacks on schools, universities, teachers, and students in April 2024, calling for parties to comply with the measures ordered by the ICJ in January. Despite this, over a year and a half later, the international community has done little to prevent Israeli forces from targeting educational facilities in an attempt to hobble the cultural and intellectual development of a generation of Gazans. As recently as 6 January, eleven Palestinian students were injured when Israeli forces raided the campus of Birzeit University north of Ramallah, firing live ammunition and tear gas. Nonetheless, amid the gloom, there is some cause for hope. Flagship initiatives such as the Better Learning Programme, funded by Education Cannot Wait, are bringing together teachers, caregivers, and counsellors to create safe, supportive learning environments that can help children to cope. Combining basic education – including Arabic and mathematics – with therapeutic tools like breathing techniques, storytelling, and guided drawing helps children to process trauma and stress, restore a sense of normalcy, and nurture hope. During the ceasefire at the start of 2025, schools reopened with remarkable speed. In September, despite overwhelming challenges, 28 200 students in Gaza sat their Tawjihi exams for high school graduates online. Achieving this milestone, which one teacher described as “a miracle”, is a testament to the extraordinary resilience of young Palestinians. There is also positive news in the realm of higher education. At the end of December, a graduation ceremony was held for 170 newly qualified doctors in the remains of Al Shifa Hospital in Gaza City. Despite the extensive damage – most of the hospital’s buildings and equipment destroyed or rendered inoperative by Israel’s attacks during the genocide – friends and families gathered to celebrate the achievement – the Palestinian Board Certification, the highest medical specialty credential in the Occupied Palestinian Territories. These successes are evidence that hope persists in Gaza. Yet three key challenges continue to block students’ access to education:
Realizing the Palestinian Right of Return in a Time of Genocide and Dispersal
Introduction This analysis article examines the Palestinian right of return not simply as a legal clause in international instruments, but as a central pillar of a long anti-colonial struggle over land, belonging, and political imagination. It argues that the right of return is best understood as a justice claim grounded in Indigenous attachment to place, in collective memory, and in decolonial visions of the future, rather than as a technocratic “final status issue” to be deferred to the end of negotiations. The argument proceeds from three related observations. First, when one centers Palestinian and Arab scholarship and political practice, the right of return emerges not as a residual humanitarian demand, but as a constitutive element of any just post-colonial order in Palestine. Authors such as Salman Abu Sitta, Nur Masalha, Rosemary Sayigh, Karma Nabulsi, and Leila Farsakh have insisted that return is inalienable, collective as well as individual, and structurally tied to questions of sovereignty, citizenship, and restitution (Abu Sitta 1997; 2005; 2016; Masalha 1992; Sayigh 1979; Nabulsi 2006; Farsakh 2021). Second, the current conjuncture, marked by an even more brutal phase of genocide in the Gaza Strip and colonial violence in the West Bank with coordinated repression on Palestinians in 48 as well as control arrests and threat of deportation for many Palestinians in the different geographies of the shataat (diaspora), must be read as part of a longer settler-colonial project aimed at erasing Palestinians from their land and making return materially, institutionally and imaginatively impossible. More than 90 per cent of Gaza’s population has been displaced at least once since October 2023; approximately 92 per cent of homes and other structures have been damaged or destroyed (OCHA 2024–25; UNRWA 2024–25). These are not isolated humanitarian crises but structural assaults on the population that holds the right of return. Third, contemporary schemes of coerced emigration, including recent charter flights transporting Palestinians from Gaza to South Africa and other third countries under opaque and monetized arrangements, represent a new modality of forced displacement. Investigations by South African authorities and international media indicate that these flights—organized by a shadowy entity known as Al-Majd Europe—require Palestinians to pay substantial sums to leave Gaza, and may form part of broader efforts to “empty” the Strip under humanitarian cover (Le Monde 2025; Al Jazeera 2025; Anadolu Agency 2025; Financial Times 2025). Such schemes directly target the bearers of the right of return. At the same time, the institutional infrastructure of Palestinian refugeehood—UNRWA—is under escalating attack. Funding suspensions, Israeli legislation banning UNRWA in all of historic Palestine, and forced evictions from premises in occupied East Jerusalem are widely interpreted by Palestinian and regional organizations as attempts to erase refugeehood as a recognized legal category (ARDD 2024; BADIL 2025). The question this article seeks to address is therefore not simply whether the Palestinian right of return exists in international law—a point extensively analyzed elsewhere (Albanese and Takkenberg 2020)—but how we might think about its realization now, at a moment when Palestinians are being killed, displaced and dispersed on a massive scale and when the institutional frameworks that have historically recognized and supported refugeehood are under sustained attack. The first section reconstructs how the right of return has been conceptualized in Palestinian and Arab thought as an anti-colonial principle. The second reads the Gaza genocide and new forms of coerced migration as contemporary expressions of a long-standing project of elimination. The third examines the war on UNRWA as a struggle over the infrastructure of refugeehood itself. The fourth reflects on the ambivalent role of international law, which functions both as a resource and as a constraint. The final section sketches some elements of what “realizing the right of return” might mean in practice, beyond a single diplomatic event. Throughout, the article adopts a justice-based and decolonial lens, treating international law as one repertoire among others rather than the sole or ultimate arbiter of legitimacy. 1. The Right of Return as an Anti-Colonial Principle Palestinian and Arab scholarship approaches the right of return first and foremost through the experience of expulsion and enduring attachment to land, not through abstract readings of treaty texts. 1.1 Analytical approaches: the settler colonial project and the political and material significance of return Salman Abu Sitta’s work is paradigmatic in this respect. Over several decades, he has reconstructed the geography of the Nakba, mapping more than 500 depopulated villages and towns, documenting their lands and analyzing their present-day uses. On this basis he argues that the Palestinian right of return is “sacred, legal and possible”: sacred, because it inheres in an Indigenous relationship between a people and their land; legal, because it is grounded in multiple strands of international law; and possible, because the spatial distribution of current populations in historic Palestine allows for large-scale return without reproducing mass expulsion of others (Abu Sitta 1997; 2005; 2016). In his reading, the common assertion that return is “demographically impossible” is less an empirical statement than an ideological one: what is at stake is not physical capacity but the refusal to relinquish a project of demographic engineering characteristic of settler colonialism. Nur Masalha’s work brings this colonial structure into focus. In Expulsion of the Palestinians (1992), he traces the idea of “transfer”—that is, the removal of the Indigenous population from Palestine—as a persistent theme in Zionist political thought and planning from the late nineteenth century onwards. On this view, the expulsions of 1948 are not accidental by-products of war but the implementation of a long-standing blueprint. Post-1948, policies of denial—to refuse the term “Nakba”, to deny responsibility, to insist that the refugees are an external humanitarian problem—function to stabilize the new demographic order. The right of return appears, in this light, as a direct refusal of transfer: an insistence that those who were meant to be eliminated or rendered permanently external remain the land’s rightful inhabitants. If Abu Sitta and Masalha foreground land and planning, Rosemary Sayigh’s classic oral histories focus on the subjective experience of exile. Working in the camps of Lebanon and
Gazan Women’s Mental Health in the Shadow of a Genocide
By Nermin Walid Hussein As we reflect on World Mental Health Day, observed globally on October 10, it is crucial to recognize its significance for those suffering in conflict zones. In fact, wars inflict wounds that go far beyond physical injuries, leaving enduring scars on mental health that can last a lifetime. Since the outbreak of the war on Gaza in 2023, over 67,000 Palestinians have been killed, with women and children constituting 70% of the victims. At least 20,000 children are among the dead, with one child killed every hour for the past 24 months. However, the true number is unknown, and it is likely to be much higher, because the official death data do not include those who perished under rubble or are missing. Nevertheless, the emotional and psychological toll of this conflict extends far beyond physical injuries, manifesting in a mental health crisis of alarming proportions, compounded by the widespread and unprecedented destruction of houses, infrastructures, collapse of services, loss of food and water resources. Gazan women bear a disproportionate burden. Their mental health has been severely impacted, and studies show that over the 75% of them suffers from chronic anxiety and depression. They often report feeling scared and exhausted, with limited access to mental health support, coping with psychological distress alone and in isolation. Women’s sense of stability has been further eroded by displacement and overcrowded shelters. The lack of privacy, basic necessities, and safety in these conditions has contributed to their heightened emotional distress. Additionally, their caregiving responsibilities have increased. They report sacrificing their own health to care for their families and often they are the primary or sole caregivers for their children. Hunger, coupled with the inability to provide food for their loved ones, creates an emotional burden that is difficult to bear. Moreover, the constant exposure to violence and loss has exacerbated their trauma, categorized as Complex Continuous Traumatic Stress (CCTS) due to the chronic, unrelenting nature of it. The war has also severely disrupted access to essential reproductive healthcare services. The simplest necessities like menstrual hygiene products, are no longer readily available, highlighting the catastrophic nature of the humanitarian situation. Women often resort to makeshift solutions and face severe infections due to lack of hygiene or simply lack of clean water. With more than the 85% of healthcare facilities destroyed, women have been also forced to giving birth in overcrowded shelters, often lacking proper medical care. Many have been discharged just hours after delivery, leading to serious complications. Reports indicate significant increase in miscarriages (about the 300%) linked to trauma and inadequate care, and birth losses driven by stress, malnutrition, lack of medical assistance and essential medical supplies. The inability to access fundamental health rights not only challenges individual wellbeing but threatens the rights of an entire population. The systematic targeting of reproductive autonomy as well as the denial of essential reproductive healthcare can be classified as reproductive violence under international law. From the bombing of maternity hospitals and fertility clinics to the forced births in tents and surgeries without anesthesia, reproductive violence is being used as a weapon of domination and erasure and the International Criminal Court (ICC) should recognize and prosecute these acts as forms of persecution. Despite these overwhelming obstacles, women in Gaza display incredible resilience, supporting their families and communities through a combination of social and community-based strategies, like relying on strong family and community networks, engaging in religious and spiritual practices, even in the direst circumstances. Reports from the ground reveal adaptive coping methods, including stories of mothers organizing educational activities for their children or working within community networks to provide mental health support. Some women also use formal methods like peer support groups, professional psychosocial support, and culturally adapted interventions, creating safe spaces for healing anxiety and fears. This resilience is a testament to their strength and the critical role they play in rebuilding society. In this way they literally embody the Palestinian ethos of sumud (steadfastness) and contribute to rebuild a sense of normalcy amidst chaos. As we are marking the 25th Anniversary of United Nations Security Council Resolution 1325 on Women, Peace, and Security to uplift the voices and leadership of Arab women in peace-building efforts, we must recognize that sustainable peace cannot be achieved without addressing the unique challenges faced by women in conflict zones. Gazan women have demonstrated remarkable strength in the face of adversity, often stepping into leadership roles within their communities. In light of the recent political steps towards peace in Gaza, we must uplift and support Gazan women’s voice. Promoting the rights of Gazan women goes beyond mere advocacy; it involves actively creating spaces where their voices are heard and respected, giving them opportunities to recover. This means investing in mental health resources that are accessible and culturally sensitive, empowering women to seek the support they need to heal and thrive. When women’s mental health is prioritized, they are better equipped to support their families and communities, laying the groundwork for a more peaceful and just society.