In Conversation with Peace Strategist Sanam Naraghi Anderlini, Part Three: Lessons from the Global South for Peacebuilding in a Polarized World
Check out Sanam’s podcast series #IfYouWereinCharge
Sanam Naraghi Anderlini is the founder and CEO of the International Civil Society Action Network (ICAN) and leads the Women’s Alliance for Security Leadership (WASL), a coalition of women-led organizations across 40 countries dedicated to preventing violence and advancing peace, rights, and pluralism. Sanam has over two decades of experience as a peace strategist working globally on conflicts, violent extremism, and peacebuilding with civil society, governments, and the UN. Her academic contributions include teaching at Columbia University and holding an Andrew Mellon Fellowship at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst. She holds an MPhil from Cambridge University and is an Iranian-born UK and US citizen. She recently joined the advisory board of the Democracy and Belonging Forum.
Lara Habboub, the Communications Associate at the Democracy & Belonging Forum, recently spoke with Sanam about her impactful work as a peace strategist, highlighting the unique contributions of women in peacebuilding efforts and the valuable lessons learned from peace initiatives in the Global South.
The following is Part 3 of the interview. You can read Part 1 and Part 2 of this interview on our website.
What can peace activists and bridgers in the Global North learn from the approaches and experiences of those in the Global South? Are there any specific strategies or practices that you believe are particularly effective?
I’ve recently spent six months in Germany studying issues of polarization and the rise of neo-fascism, and it’s clear that this is a critical area of focus both there and elsewhere. From my experience, one key takeaway is the importance of engaging with local community organizations and trusted figures—whether they are teachers, religious leaders, or other respected individuals. These local actors have genuine access to marginalized spaces and understand their communities’ grievances and aspirations. Instead of relying on large national organizations with centralized structures, it’s more effective to support independent, locally rooted partners. These organizations might be connected globally, but their work is deeply embedded in the local context. Community-led groups collaborate and learn from each other rather than being managed as branches of a larger organization. This model respects the unique context of each community while promoting collective learning and solidarity.
Moreover, it’s essential to identify and support those individuals and groups within communities who are trusted and willing to engage in difficult conversations. The idea is to avoid simply reinforcing existing grievances but instead to step back to challenge assumptions, ask the right questions, and ultimately bring people together. Going back to the idea of quantum identities, one of the most important things we must do is create spaces for such experiential connectivity where people can engage in meaningful dialogue.
Another important strategy is to create spaces for shared experiences. This can be through community service projects, social events, or collaborative activities. The goal is to move beyond mere dialogue to experiences that bring people together in meaningful ways. For instance, organizing joint activities like cleaning up a park, playing sports, or having a communal dinner can help push past some of the assumptions that we have about each other.
For example, some of our partners work on security issues, focusing on community safety and collaborating with local police. In some areas, like here in the United States, the police are often incredibly predatory, violent, and mistrusted. In Mombasa, for example, one of our partners has addressed this by reaching out to women police officers and creating “police cafés.” These cafés offer a safe space, often within a police station, where women can come for a cup of tea or coffee and discuss their concerns. These concerns may include domestic violence, fears of their children being radicalized by extremist groups, or other issues. The goal is to build trust so that the police are actually serving the community effectively rather than being predatory.
In Uganda, one of our colleagues was concerned about election violence and started a program to address this issue. We supported their initiative to create youth boot camps. These camps invited young people, both men and women, to learn about the principles of the Women, Peace, and Security agenda, as well as the Youth, Peace, and Security agenda. Participants were taught about conflict resolution, the role of women and men in peacebuilding, and nonviolence. The discussions were anchored in local issues, such as upcoming elections, and explored how politicians could potentially fuel disputes. They also addressed other local conflicts, like land and water disputes, and the influence of gangs in certain areas of Kampala.
During my visit last year, I met some graduates of these boot camps. One young woman had successfully resolved a land dispute in her community by applying the skills she had learned. Another young man talked about how his group had engaged with local gangs to clean up and secure a water source in a shantytown, improving access for the community. This is what community activism looks like—believing that you can make a difference and taking action. For peacebuilders, it’s about reaching out and creating bridges between the police, authorities, and communities that are in conflict, finding common ground to work together.
I was talking with my colleagues in Germany, and they expressed uncertainty about how to engage with the alt-right. We face a similar challenge here in the U.S. I have friends with families who are diehard Trump supporters, and no one talks to each other because political discussions are avoided. But we’re reaching a dangerous point—there are a lot of guns involved.
There’s another crucial aspect to this. When we first started our work, particularly in addressing violent extremism, we observed a significant rise in jihadi movements like Boko Haram, Al-Shabaab, and ISIS. These groups are locally rooted but globally connected, sharing similar worldviews and visions, yet they are very active within their own communities. The alt-right operates in much the same way. What we’re seeing here in the U.S. is mirrored in Germany, England, and France—they’re all connected. Steve Bannon has openly discussed this.
The alt-right’s strategy is to be local and deeply connected to their communities, allowing them to tap into emerging grievances and issues. They engage people emotionally and viscerally, but they also have a global vision for what they want to achieve. On the other hand, the progressive side has been so caught up in these layers of onion peels of identity that we’ve inadvertently created more division among ourselves instead of focusing on a shared vision of where we want to go.
Looking ahead, what do you see as the most significant opportunities and challenges for the future of peacebuilding and conflict resolution? What is giving you hope at this moment?
The challenges we’re facing right now are very present right now. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has drastically altered how the West, including the U.S., perceives global dynamics, pulling us back into an old Cold War mindset where superpowers are once again at odds. This shift has led to a surge in military spending, with an unprecedented $2.2 trillion allocated to defense in 2022, and 2023 is likely to see even higher numbers. While the majority of this spending is coming from the U.S., other countries are also contributing, fueling a new arms race.
This escalation in military budgets has a direct impact on domestic services, as governments are cutting back at home to fund defense efforts. These cuts create gaps that are quickly exploited by right-wing groups, who use the opportunity to claim that the government doesn’t care about its people. The real challenge here is how we frame and address this situation—a new Cold War and arms race that is diverting resources from essential social services and allowing these extremist groups to thrive. The right-wing is not just benefiting from these conflicts; they are actively exploiting the unrest to further their own agendas.
The second point, which could be seen as both a challenge and an opportunity, is the current state of multilateralism, particularly at the highest levels like the UN Security Council. The system is basically not working properly. The U.S. blames Russia for every violation of international law, but the reality is that all five permanent members—Russia, China, France, the U.K., and the U.S.—have abrogated their responsibilities. The U.S. and U.K. disregarded the Security Council’s vote with the Iraq War, effectively breaking international law by occupying Iraq. Subsequent conflicts like the Libya war, French interventions in Mali and West Africa, the Russian actions in Syria and Ukraine, and China’s role in Myanmar, show that all five are equally to blame for the horrors that we're seeing globally.
They all point fingers at each other, and the narrative being pushed, particularly in the West, is that multilateralism is failing and everything is going downhill. But if you look at the system from a different perspective, you’ll see that it was actually designed to give smaller states a voice and to limit the bullying of the major powers. For instance, The Gambia took Myanmar—and by extension, China—to the International Court of Justice (ICJ) over the Rohingya crisis, which is a positive development. Similarly, countries like South Africa, Mexico, and Namibia took Israel to the ICJ, which is another good sign. The International Criminal Court (ICC) has declared that the situation in Gaza is akin to a war crime, and we’re eagerly waiting to see the outcome regarding arrest warrants.
Contrary to what some Western media and think tanks suggest, the system isn’t completely broken. Take the Ukraine case: 143 out of 193 UN member states voted against Russia, supporting Ukraine’s territorial integrity. The world came together in overwhelming support of Ukraine, and the U.S. and its allies were quick to highlight this unity. Similarly, in the case of Gaza, 153 countries called for a ceasefire. The system is indeed under a significant stress test, but it’s still doing what it needs to do. Instead of buying into the narrative pushed by the U.S., U.K., and other Western powers that things aren’t working, we should recognize that the system is, in fact, holding its ground and it’s the big powers that are the outliers.
What’s even more remarkable is the level of consensus within the UN. I’ve worked with the UN for many years, and I’ve never seen such uniformity in their stance on a particular issue. From the Secretary-General to the World Food Programme, UN Women, the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights—every part of the UN system has repeatedly identified the situation in Gaza as genocidal violence. The fact that the system is withstanding this stress and maintaining its principles should give us hope. But this hope is only meaningful if we recognize it and enable the system to function as intended.
If the ICC issues its arrest warrants, it’s crucial that these are respected. I’d like to see Kamala Harris, as a former prosecutor, stand up for the rule of law. Even though the U.S. isn’t a signatory to the ICC, we have universal jurisdiction in the U.S. This means that if someone is accused of war crimes, our policymakers, lawmakers, and citizens have the right and responsibility to act on those arrest warrants. If, for instance, a warrant were issued for Netanyahu while he’s in the U.S., our courts could technically arrest him. These systems were designed for moments like this, and I’d like to see them in action.
On one hand, this gives me hope; on the other, I’m concerned about whether we’re in the midst of a second geopolitical tsunami—will it last or not? It’s a critical moment. But despite the challenges, what really gives me hope is that, regardless of the mess the international community or these powerful states find themselves in, and despite the pessimism they may indulge in, people around the world—my partners in various countries—don’t have the luxury of pessimism. They continue to push forward, driven by the need to create change in their own communities.
If you’re living in Gaza and trying to feed your kids, you don’t have the luxury of worrying about the UN or international politics. You wake up each morning, and like everyone else, you just keep going. That’s human nature. And I think this is the future we’re moving toward—multilateralism in a new form, driven by civic engagement. The network model we’ve established, where everyone is independent yet interconnected, is like an orchestra where each person plays their own instrument. Sometimes, we come together for a jam session, creating something bigger than the sum of its parts.
At the local level, this is crucial. When you’re local, you care deeply about your community because you’re part of it. You don’t have an exit strategy like an international NGO that can pack up and leave when things get tough. You are of the community, and the more we see this local engagement, the more we can rebuild. It’s like thinking of multilateralism as an umbrella that’s been battered and broken, with its spokes sticking out while we’re drenched by storms. But beneath that, we have a safety net—a network of locals who stand up and care for their communities. I see this happening, and it gives me hope. This is what we need to amplify, especially for those who feel hopeless.
Another source of hope for me is Gen Z. I love this generation. My kids are part of it, and I see a different kind of understanding of connectivity in them. Issues of identity that were once divisive now seem almost irrelevant. There’s a remarkable depth of knowledge among them about complex issues like the military-industrial complex, police violence, and Gaza. The reactions we’re seeing on U.S. university campuses regarding Gaza are unprecedented, and young people are incredibly informed. This gives me hope.
But hope alone isn’t a strategy. We need structures, vision, tactics, and organization. We also need to engage in multiple spaces—political, legal, narrative, and storytelling—to shift perceptions and narratives. One of the challenges in the peacebuilding world is that we aren’t visible in the public sphere. People don’t know what we do because our stories aren’t being told. If we had spent the last 20 years with TV series about peacebuilders, the public’s understanding would be very different. We know about lawyers, doctors, police officers, bankers, and billionaires because their stories are out there. Yet, our community, doing incredible work in various places, often remains invisible.
Part of our task is to bring these stories to light, to decolonize the narrative—especially in platforms like Netflix—so that the extraordinary people working in all these different areas are recognized. This is especially true for women, who are so often erased from history. We need to bring their leadership back into the spotlight. So, while there are challenges, there’s also hope. And we must carry both forward.