Posted Tuesday, 10 Feb 2026 by Chris Coulter
Last year marked two important anniversaries: twenty-five years since the adoption of UN Security Council Resolution 1325 (UNSCR 1325) on Women, Peace and Security and ten years of the Nordic Women Mediators Network. Anniversaries invite celebration, but they also invite honest reflection. They force us to examine not only what we have achieved, but where we truly stand.
Twenty-six years ago, I was part of a group of young Swedish women contributing to what would become UNSCR 1325. It was exhilarating to be part of this historic moment. Women from conflict zones, civil society, and UN agencies came together to demand the inclusion of women and gender provisions in peace and security.
What stayed with me the most was this sense of momentum, that once the door opened, it felt as if it would stay open. Many of us believed progress would keep moving forward, even if it was slow. We did not expect how fragile that progress could be. We assumed that once something was agreed, it would be automatically defended. Yet, we are learning that progress must be protected, again and again.
Many of us built our careers on a promise: that rules would matter more over time, that institutions would strengthen, and norms around inclusion, human rights, and gender equality would expand. This promise is cracking. For some, it already feels broken. We need to acknowledge grief around this, but without nostalgia.
There is loss here, but there is also a responsibility to adapt rather than retreat. Grief is not a sign of weakness; it is a normal reaction when life does not turn out the way we were led to expect. But longing for how things used to be can leave us stuck. If we hold on too hard to a past that’s gone, we might fail to notice or shape what is next.
We find ourselves in a situation where progress has stalled, words have not always been translated into action, and challenges are mounting. Across the world, we see a rise of authoritarianism and a clear backlash against gender equality. Some governments now openly reject feminist agendas, while others quietly step back from commitments they once proudly endorsed. The language remains, but the substance thins out.
At the same time, peace efforts are shifting from comprehensive agreements to short-term, fragile ceasefires – often negotiated by all-male teams and easily broken. Even before this regression we have seen that women peacebuilders are under-recognised and under-resourced. But this lack of recognition is not accidental. It is built into systems that privilege formal authority over community trust, speed over sustainability, and visibility over longevity.
Women mediators, especially at community level, usually operate in informal, relationship-based spaces over long periods of time, which is exactly where trust is built and conflicts are stopped before they turn violent. Much of this work happens quietly and rarely fits into neat project timelines or clear success indicators. But without this work, formal agreements struggle to hold. This is heartbreaking because everything we have learned tells us that peace cannot be sustained without women. There is no evidence that excluding women leads to better outcomes. From Colombia to Northern Ireland, the evidence is consistent: agreements are more durable, communities are more resilient and implementation is more credible when women are meaningfully involved. Exclusion persists not because it is effective, but because it is convenient for those who already hold power. This is not simply turbulence, but a deeper shift in the operating system of international politics. Our task is not to fight for what we know and to defend yesterday’s order, but to shape and build tomorrow’s.
We have to be honest: we have been selective about who the concept of liberal peace has protected, and who it has left behind. Perhaps we in the Nordic and European countries are only catching up to what many others have long known. For large parts of the world, the so-called liberal peace often arrived with conditions attached, with assumptions embedded and with power asymmetries left largely untouched. It is hard for me to say this, as I belong to a generation that grew up in the height of the promise of international order, human rights, and the emergence of women’s rights. I am afraid that what I understood as “normal” was perhaps only a blink in human history.
Liberal peacemaking rested on several assumptions: that conflicts could be “managed” into stability through institutions, elections, markets, and technocratic packages; that rules would constrain power; and that “engagement” would tame coercion. These beliefs influenced how people were trained, how money was allocated, and how careers were built. When these assumptions no longer hold, it can feel deeply unsettling. But that discomfort is also a signal that we need to rethink our tools, not abandon our goals.
What’s collapsing is not the desire for peace, but the illusion that peace is guaranteed by architecture. Maybe the end of liberal peace is not the end of peace, but the end of this autopilot. At this year’s World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland, Mark Carney, Prime Minister of Canada, said we are in a “rupture, not a transition.” I would add that although a rupture is scary - it is also clarifying. It forces us to make choices, to think strategically rather than rely on habits.
I have been thinking a lot about what this shift changes in practice. We all want to end violent conflicts. If deal-making is what we have, we will have to work with it and around it, knowing that it can only go so far. It might end a violent war, but will it build sustainable peace? We have seen that the logic of transactional power politics shifts from values and rules to leverage, threats, tariffs, and bilateral wins. Most importantly, power politics treats uncertainty as a tool. It keeps others reactive, not proactive.
We have also seen that in power politics relationships are treated as monetisable transactions. In transactional politics, it is not that values disappear, but they become bargaining chips unless we defend them. This kind of politics rewards speed and strength, which makes careful, inclusive work harder and increases the cost of failure when deals fall apart.
We cannot live a lie and pretend the rules-based order works the way the brochure says when its gaps are visible to everyone. So, what about middle powers? Middle powers have agency; they are not powerless. Middle powers shape norms through alignment, not dominance, they work through agenda-setting, convening powers, and persistence that matter more than size. Agency today is less about veto power, but more about “staying power.” I believe that we can weather the storm, learn from it, and get stronger as a consequence of this new normal. I feel energy and determination in the face of this opposition. I think we can build a new order around sovereignty, human rights, and solidarity. The ability to last over time comes from relationships. It depends on trust built slowly on a reputation of being reliable and on continuing to show up even when attention fades. These are things networks like Nordic Women Mediators are already very good at, even if that work is not always officially acknowledged.
I believe in networks, but I believe even more in coalitions. Coalitions that work, but different coalitions for different issues – pragmatic, values-aware cooperation. Carney said, “if we’re not at the table, we’re on the menu.” We already know what happens when women are not at the table. We’ve been talking about it for more than 30 years. We must face reality: in this era of rising conflict and resurgent authoritarianism, women are being invited less to the table, not more. This exclusion is a shortcut in a system obsessed with speed and optics. It delivers short-term deals and privileges those with guns over those who carry social legitimacy. Every voice left out means missing information, every community ignored becomes a possible source of conflict. Women mediators understand this well because they are often the ones dealing with the fallout of failed agreements. But we also know that exclusion creates blind spots, and that blind spots become grievances, and grievances can become spoilers. That is why women’s participation is not “nice to have”, it is risk reduction.
So what do we do now? I want to emphasise three things:
The goal is not to rebuild the old system, but to decide who we build the future with and who gets real power. Women mediators are not just invited in, they help design the system and come up with new ways forward when old structures fail.
I want to end with a story I heard recently from Chloé Zhao, the second woman and first woman of color to win an Oscar for best film director. Recently in an interview, she said that being a woman in the film industry is like walking into a house and never reaching the highest floor. But what if you leave that house and build your own? Yes, you must cut down the trees, build the foundation, and it takes time. But when you have finished, it is your house!
The task at hand is not to restore the old house, but to decide who we build with and who gets keys. Women mediators are not guests in the future order – they are architects.