Humanitarian action cannot ignore politics but it can choose dignity

For all the rhetoric of neutrality, one truth is now impossible to ignore: humanitarian aid no longer moves as an independent force.

It is shaped and often distorted by geopolitics, shifting alliances and the strategic interests of those who fund it. Pretending otherwise is not an act of principle; it is self-deception. And it prevents the sector from serving the people who rely most on humanitarian action.

Recognising this reality is not a surrender. It is the first step towards transformation. If the global terrain has changed and it has  the humanitarian system must adjust without compromising the values that anchor its work. Humanity, dignity and accountability are not optional concepts to be rearranged according to political winds. They are the foundations on which the sector rests.

Across global conversations, one theme consistently rises above the rest: genuine co-creation. This is where meaningful change begins. Local organisations are not simply "first responders" who fill gaps until international agencies arrive; they are trusted institutions with contextual knowledge and networks that external actors cannot replicate. When empowered, they can lead and coordinate responses far more effectively.

Yet empowerment cannot be reduced to short-term project cycles or impact metrics tailored for donor reports. Real investment in community-led systems requires long-term capacity-building, shared standards, sustained mentoring and creating spaces for young people to shape – not merely inherit – the humanitarian landscape. Communities already hold knowledge and expertise; what they lack are recognition, access and the enabling conditions international actors take for granted.

Forced displacement adds another layer of complexity. When families are uprooted by storms, floods, conflict or economic collapse, they leave behind fragile spaces that can become ungoverned. In these moments, community networks, youth groups and local NGOs step in. They mobilise volunteers, deliver basic services and support both those who remain and those who flee. Yet, despite being the backbone of immediate response, they are consistently the last to receive flexible funding, equipment or technical education.

If localisation is to carry meaning, resources – financial and non-financial – must be shared equitably. Knowledge, standards, recognition and decision-making platforms must be accessible at all levels. Encouragingly, a few donors are now co-designing solutions with local actors, offering a glimpse of what good practice looks like. The challenge is ensuring these examples become normal rather than exceptional.

This is where the sector's own commitments must be confronted. Eight years after the Grand Bargain pledged to shift power and resources closer to crisis-affected communities, progress remains uneven and often symbolic. And as the humanitarian "Reset" gains momentum, there is a risk that localisation becomes a rhetorical flourish rather than an organising principle. If the Reset is to have substance, localisation must move from aspiration to architecture.

Preparedness is another lesson the sector seems destined to relearn. Anticipatory action is proven to save lives, yet most responses still begin only after devastation becomes visible. Communities could act sooner – many want to – if early warning systems were reliable, communication channels robust and funding released before disasters strike. Strengthening these systems is not a technical checklist; it is central to survival.

Preparedness, however, will remain limited unless the political and organisational barriers that hinder collective action are addressed. Fragmentation, overlapping mandates and territorial disputes between agencies erode trust and slow life-saving decisions. A humanitarian reset requires honest engagement with national authorities, clearer division of roles and a willingness to prioritise collective outcomes over institutional branding. Systemic change will not emerge unless collaboration becomes more valuable than organisational territory.

Even with improved systems, transformation demands a shift in mindset. Compassion must be a structural value rather than a sentimental one. A compassionate humanitarian architecture challenges the paternalistic, top-down habits that still shape decision-making. It rejects narratives that undermine the capacity of local or national authorities. It prioritises humility, openness and genuine listening. And it accepts that humanitarian action cannot solve every problem; long-term solidarity and accountability are essential.

For localisation to take root, it must exist within a supportive environment. This requires policy reforms, transparent incentives and partnership models that enable shared leadership. It also calls for introspection within local systems: addressing talent poaching, unhealthy competition and gaps in professional standards. Without alignment from global policy rooms to community-level practice, localisation will remain fragmented and vulnerable to misinterpretation.

Meanwhile, climate change is reshaping the nature of crises. Floods last longer. Cyclones strike harder. Droughts push families out of livelihoods that once sustained them. These pressures will intensify, stretching human, ecological and institutional systems already under strain. Yet communities continue to show extraordinary resilience – grounded not in romanticised notions of "strength", but in cooperation, empathy and intergenerational knowledge. These are systemic assets and should be recognised as such.

If the world becomes more complex, the humanitarian approach must become more human, more collaborative and more firmly anchored in local leadership. The sector must listen more deeply, act earlier, share resources more equitably and design systems that do not leave local actors waiting on the margins. Above all, it must protect the dignity and humanity at the centre of this work.

Transformation is not a distant aspiration. It begins with the choices made now, the partnerships cultivated and the courage shown in rethinking inherited systems. If rooted in purpose, a shifting world does not have to weaken humanitarian action. It can strengthen it.