Nationalia - Sapienti sat

The Gorani Community: Emigration and Identity in the Frozen Conflict Between Serbia and Kosovo

Thu, 04 Jun 2026 11:39:03 +0000

Author: Miguel Fernández Ibáñez

In the village of Brod, in the municipality of Dragash, at Kosovo’s rugged south-western tip, there are cafés where men while away the hours. In one of them, Sinan, 38, who has lived in Belgium for more than two decades, and Semin, 23, who will soon emigrate to Germany, lament the lack of employment opportunities. They criticise politicians and patronage networks, and regret that, in the face of a system that suffocates hope, young people have no option but to leave – taking with them the future of their community.

La comunitat gorani: emigració i identitat en el conflicte congelat entre Sèrbia i Kosovo Author: Miguel Fernández Ibáñez

“Young people are leaving. Ninety per cent of my friends have already gone. There are no well-paid jobs and no prospects for starting a family,” says Semin, lean, hoarse-voiced and a smoker. “In 20 or 30 years there won’t even be 200 people left in Brod. It’s a shame, but there’s nothing I can do – I have to leave if I want a better life,” he admits. He fears that his place will be taken by ethnic Albanians, the majority population in Kosovo, and that the Gorani community will become so diluted that it may one day disappear from its stronghold of Gora.

Semin, 23, is a Brod gorani, in Kosovo, who will soon emigrate to Germany // PHOTO: Miguel Fernández Ibáñez

The Gorani, or Nashentzi, are a Slavic Muslim people who inhabit the mountains straddling the borders of Kosovo, Albania and North Macedonia. In Kosovo, they are one of the nations granted constitutional recognition following the dissolution of Yugoslavia, and are even represented by one of the stars on the national flag. Their historic heartland lies in the far south-west of the country, in the municipality of Dragash, a rugged strip between North Macedonia and Albania that is home to 7,828 Gorani and comprises 18 Gorani-majority villages in the Gora region and a further 18 Albanian-majority villages in Opoja.

The Gorani Community in Kosovo

As a result of sustained migration, which affects all communities, the population of Dragash municipality has fallen from 39,435 to 28,896 over the past 25 years. Most Gorani now live elsewhere in Kosovo, in cities such as Prizren, Pejë and Pristina, or abroad in North Macedonia, Albania, Serbia, elsewhere in Europe and the United States. The same trend can be observed among the Gorani of North Macedonia and Albania. Although they are not recognised in official censuses there, migration and assimilation are believed to have significantly reduced their numbers, which two decades ago were estimated at 4,000 people in the Macedonian villages of Urvich and Jelovjane, and 7,500 across nine villages in Albania’s Kukës region.

“Living conditions have never been better in Dragash. There is more development and infrastructure than ever before: new water systems have been built, and there is not a single village without a paved road. Yet people are leaving the villages for the towns; in Opoja, half the population has moved to Prizren or Pristina,” says Hilmi Dauti, an ethnic Albanian from Dragash, a father of two, retired for the past seven years and a honey producer in his spare time. “My children, despite their education, cannot find work in Dragash. Here you can survive by looking after a single cow. There are farms, livestock, around a hundred people employed by the municipality, and jobs in cafés and supermarkets,” he says, listing the local options.

In another café in Brod, Ramadan, the owner, and Mirsad, a shepherd, believe there is “no future” in Dragash. Mirsad laments his bachelorhood, which he partly attributes to his profession. Shepherding, he says, has become stigmatised; it is seen as “a job for older people” and “not something women like”. “These days it’s almost shameful to have this profession, but I don’t have any other skills,” admits the Gorani shepherd before describing the lack of opportunities in the sector. “Livestock farming isn’t stable because there’s no market. Lamb is €12 a kilo, and people can’t afford it. I could keep 1,000 sheep, but I have nobody to sell them to, or middlemen want to make money by buying them from me cheaply.”

Sinan, who has lived in Belgium for more than twenty years, is the founder of the Belgian burger franchise Beastie, where the meat is seasoned according to his grandfather’s recipe. His grandfather also had to emigrate, though he headed south to Thessaloniki in Greece. It worked out well for him, just as it has for Sinan – tall, broad-shouldered and self-assured – who is spending his holidays in Brod. “We want industry. We want economic capacity. Cheese from the Šar Mountains has won many awards, but we have no way of distributing it. We need solutions,” he says, calling for measures to halt the exodus from a community renowned for its pastries, flaky dough and börek.

Unlike Semin, Sinan believes that roots always call people back, and he is convinced that the Gorani will never completely abandon Brod. He points to himself as an example: he returns every year and hopes that his daughters will do the same in future. It is an idyllic image of gatherings and celebration, one that belongs to spring and summer, when the diaspora returns, marriage proposals are made, weddings take place, and local residents earn some extra income. Winter, by contrast, is harsh and grey, with scarcely any people – and very few young people – left behind. Many are forced into a cycle of circular labour migration, spending these months working elsewhere in Europe so that they can live in Brod for the rest of the year.

Ethnic Patronage

Across the Balkans, and not only in Kosovo, the most talented people are invariably drawn to foreign companies or universities, while many others end up as cheap, itinerant labour in Europe’s fields and factories. After all, three months’ wages in Germany are equivalent to an entire year’s income in the Balkans. People also have little faith that politicians, who perpetuate a corrupt system, will change the status quo. As a result, they face two choices: adapt to a clientelist system or emigrate. In Kosovo, however, the problem has an additional dimension: because of Serbian interference, patronage also carries ethnic overtones.

“The political situation is a problem. In a village like Brod there are five parties: Gorani, Serbian, Albanian, Bosniak and Turkish. Their aim is to divide us. If we were united, we could demand more rights,” says Sinan. “It’s our own fault. For money, we side with either Serbs or Albanians. If you say you’re Bosniak, you get money and jobs from Kosovo; if you say you’re Gorani, you get them from Serbia,” adds Semin.

He points out that in winter the only work available is at a nearby ski resort, which attracts around 2,000 visitors every weekend. Yet Brod benefits very little from it: it is the Albanian community that runs the slopeside hotel equipped with all the necessary services.

Since the end of the Kosovo war in 1999, Serbia has no longer governed the territory, but it continues to exert influence in Kosovo’s ten Serb-majority municipalities, in Mitrovica and the various enclaves, as well as in territories inhabited by Roma and other minorities such as the Gorani. As a result, parallel education and healthcare structures still exist and are used by different communities. In Brod, Semin estimates that 60% of the community attends Serbian schools and therefore may never learn Albanian or fully integrate into Kosovo’s institutions. That is precisely Serbia’s objective. In order to maintain the frozen conflict, it provides public-sector jobs, influences the private sector and distributes subsidies, pensions and other benefits through a highly politicised patronage system.

“Even today, Serbia continues to fund communities. People remain connected through economic interests, access to pensions and social benefits. Serbia finances schools and hospitals, and in the negotiations [between Kosovo and Serbia] it is not only Serbian interests that are at stake, but also those of the Gorani and other minorities in Kosovo,” says Uzair Hamza, who has spent the past 25 years heading the office responsible for protecting community rights in Dragash municipality.

“A child attending a Kosovo-system school will learn that the KLA/UÇK liberated Kosovo, while a child attending a Serbian school will learn that it was a terrorist organisation. Moreover, as someone working to promote integration, I cannot employ people with Serbian secondary-school diplomas in the municipality because those qualifications are not recognised.”

The pressure exerted by both sides has its most obvious and painful consequences in integration, but there are also more mundane examples of how everyday life is made more difficult. In its efforts to curb Serbian influence, Albin Kurti’s Kosovo government has banned the withdrawal of Serbian salaries, pensions and social benefits within Kosovo, forcing recipients to travel to the border. This carries a financial cost that is particularly burdensome in Dragash, where residents must cross the entire country in order to reach Serbia.

As a result, new problems are piled on top of old, entrenched and frozen ones, making daily life increasingly difficult. For young people, emigration often appears to be the only viable solution.

“My father had to choose a side – the Bosniak one – in order to find a job and start a family. I don’t want that life, which is why I’m leaving,” says Semin, visibly weary. He explains that an agency charging him 10% of his salary for six months has arranged everything for his new life in Germany, from accommodation to employment.

A Contested Identity

In religious terms, the Gorani are one of the Slavic Muslim communities of the Balkans. In Bulgaria, Greece and Turkey they are known as Pomaks. In North Macedonia, as Torbeši. In Bosnia and Herzegovina, they are Bosniaks. Owing to the geographical distance separating them, among other factors, these Slavic Muslim communities were not historically one people or tribe, beyond sharing a South Slavic ethnic origin and the Islamic faith.

Before the arrival of Turkic peoples and the Ottomans in the Balkans, most of these communities were Christian. Some of them, as is believed to have been the case with the Gorani, embraced Bogomilism, a Christian sect persecuted by the orthodoxy of the Byzantine Empire and by the Bulgarian and Serbian kingdoms. This repression, which forced the Gorani into mountainous, rugged and isolated areas such as Brod, helped pave the way for their gradual conversion to Islam from the fifteenth century onwards, particularly to the heterodox and syncretic Bektashi Sufi tradition on which the Ottoman Empire relied in the Balkans.

Today, these Slavic Muslim communities each possess their own distinct characteristics in the countries where they live, although they share disputes linked to competing identity projects and assimilation. In Kosovo, the Gorani enjoy recognised rights, but they also suffer the consequences of the frozen conflict with Serbia and face an identity dispute with the Bosniak community, which argues that the Gorani are Bosniaks who drifted apart under Serbian influence. Uzair Hamza is adamant on this point: they are one people; they are all Bosniaks.

“In 1993, during the Bosnian war, Milošević sought to create ethnic groups in order to divide us. Since it was not easy to be Bosniak in Serbia, the Gorani identity emerged in Gora. Later, UNMIK blindly accepted this division, and the Serbs achieved their objective: dividing us,” Hamza recalls. “Political interests have led to the recognition of a group based on a geographical region, Gora, but we are one nation. We are Bosniaks,” he insists.

Officially, Dragash is home to 2,900 Bosniaks and 7,828 Gorani. The Gorani community also speaks of an identity shift, although in the opposite direction to Hamza’s account: following the Kosovo war, some Gorani began identifying as Bosniaks out of fear.

“We simply want to live in peace and enjoy our rights. We are not Bosniaks, we are not Serbs, we are not Bulgarians. We are Gorani, and we have been here for a very long time. We began embracing Islam in the thirteenth century; in Mlikë there is a mosque that predates the Ottoman Empire. Bosniaks, by contrast, did not convert to Islam until the fourteenth century. So how can we be Bosniaks?” asks Sinan.

His remarks point to another actor in the dispute: Bulgaria, which considers the Gorani – like the Macedonians and the Pomaks – to be part of the Bulgarian nation.

During the Ottoman Empire, with a few exceptions, communities were organised around the Abrahamic faiths. Later, in Yugoslavia, censuses recognised certain identities but included neither a Bosniak nor a Gorani category, subsuming them into other groups or under the designation “Muslims”. As Yugoslavia began to collapse, many communities sought official recognition. Some had longstanding historical claims, while others were more recent; some were highly politicised, while others emerged more organically. Among them was the Gorani community, which, like the Balkan Egyptians and the Ashkali, seized the moment to secure recognition in Kosovo.

https://www.nationalia.info/new/11765/the-gorani-community-emigration-and-identity-in-the-frozen-conflict-between-serbia-and-kos

One language relay race ends and another begins: Ar Redadeg takes over in Brittany

Wed, 20 May 2026 12:24:20 +0000

The Correllengua Agermanat came to an end this week in Alghero after covering 1,500 kilometres over 17 days and passing through more than 500 towns and villages across all Catalan-speaking territories. Just three days later, on 8 May, a new edition of Ar Redadeg got under way in Brittany, with the major grassroots mobilisation for the Breton language effectively taking up the baton from the Correllengua in the Catalan Countries.

The relay race will cross Brittany’s five departments between Lannion and Nantes until 16 May. Over eight days, thousands of participants will carry a flame and a secret message inside a baton, to be revealed only at the finish line. Inspired by the Basque Korrika and the Catalan Correllengua, Ar Redadeg – literally “the race” – has established itself since 2008 as one of Brittany’s leading language revitalisation initiatives.

Covering 2,226 kilometres, Ar Redadeg combines political advocacy, culture and popular celebration to raise the profile of the Breton language (brezhoneg) and fund educational, social and cultural projects linked to its promotion. As with other language relay movements across Europe, runners symbolically buy the kilometres they complete in order to finance language initiatives.

From Alghero to Brittany

The start of Ar Redadeg comes immediately after the conclusion of the Correllengua Agermanat, which this year mobilised around 180,000 people and 30,000 torchbearers in one of the largest language mobilisation campaigns seen in the Catalan Countries in recent years. The initiative travelled across all Catalan-speaking territories, from Prada to Alghero, with the aim of drawing attention to the linguistic emergency facing Catalan and calling for a shared future for the language.

According to Josep Buades, spokesperson for Joves de Mallorca per la Llengua, the Correllengua Agermanat represents “the people’s determination to emerge from the linguistic emergency and begin moving towards the full normalisation of the Catalan language”. Organisers also stressed that the mobilisation “was not simply a relay race, but a collective cry” in defence of the language, demonstrating that “the language is alive because there is a people willing to defend it”.

The Correllengua Agermanat’s international stage in Barcelona. PHOTO: Albert Salamé

One of the most significant moments of the route was the international stage organised by CIEMEN in Barcelona on 21 April, bringing together representatives of several stateless nations in an act of linguistic and cultural solidarity. The initiative strengthened ties between European movements facing similar challenges in defending minoritised languages.

The Correllengua Agermanat’s international stage in Barcelona. PHOTO: Víctor Cárdenas Ruiz (@puntorawstudio)

The next stop for the Correllengua Agermanat flame will be Brussels, where campaigners will call for Catalan to become an official language of the European Union institutions.

The Correllengua Agermanat’s international stage in Barcelona. PHOTO: Víctor Cárdenas Ruiz (@puntorawstudio)

A European network of linguistic resistance

The handover between the Correllengua and Ar Redadeg symbolises the vitality of a wider European movement in defence of linguistic diversity. From the Catalan Countries to Brittany, via The Basque Country and Galicia, these popular relay races have become tools of social mobilisation and national affirmation for stateless linguistic communities.

In Brittany, Breton still lacks co-official status and its institutional and educational use remains limited. Even so, initiatives such as Ar Redadeg highlight the ability of Breton civil society to keep the language alive and pass it on to new generations.

As the flame of the Correllengua Agermanat is extinguished in Alghero, another is lit in Brittany. A symbolic relay crossing borders and connecting European peoples in defence of their languages and collective rights.

https://www.nationalia.info/new/11760/one-language-relay-race-ends-and-another-begins-ar-redadeg-takes-over-in-brittany

The Azawad board is flipped once again

Thu, 30 Apr 2026 10:25:21 +0000

The main independence movement drives Malian forces out of large swathes of territory in an unlikely alliance with a jihadist organisation

An alliance between the leading independence movement in Azawad and a Sahel-based jihadist organisation has expelled the Malian army and the Russian paramilitaries backing it from large areas of this northern Malian territory. The operation is striking in scale: it suggests careful joint planning between sovereigntists and jihadists, deals a heavy blow to Mali’s military junta, and calls into question the real value of Bamako’s rapprochement with Moscow.

What has happened?

On 25 April, the FLA (Azawad independence fighters, mainly Tuareg with some Arab factions) and JNIM (a jihadist coalition) forced Malian troops and the Africa Corps — a Russian state-controlled paramilitary group supporting the junta of Assimi Goïta, Mali’s strongman since the August 2020 coup — out of Kidal. The FLA announced it had “taken” the city in a statement on 26 April, while images circulated showing the withdrawal of Russo-Malian contingents. The Africa Corps has acknowledged the retreat.

On 27 April, footage emerged showing FLA and JNIM control of the town of Tessalit, north of Kidal region. Further south, some reports suggest a Russo-Malian withdrawal from Aguelhok as well.

Why does Kidal matter?

Kidal is one of the nerve centres of Tuareg nationalism and the most important city in the desert north of Azawad. In all four Tuareg rebellions against the Malian state (1962–64, 1990–95, 2007–09 and 2012), the town has played a central role.

Tuareg forces claim that Malian and Russian troops have killed “hundreds” of civilians across Azawad since 2021. The FLA accuses them of further “atrocities”, including the destruction of villages and infrastructure. Human Rights Watch documented the deaths of seven civilians — five of them children — in August 2024 following a Malian drone strike in Tinzaouaten, in Kidal region. Outside the region, Radio France Internationale reported, citing local witnesses, that around ten people were killed by Malian and Russian forces near Gao in 2023.

Kidal is one of Azawad’s provincial capitals, within a vast territory that — according to Tuareg and Arab movements — covers roughly the central and northern two-thirds of Mali. These movements argue the region has been subjected to the “tyranny” of Malian centralism since independence in 1960.

Azawad is not only home to Tuaregs but also to Arabs, Songhai and Fulani populations, all present in its two main cities, Timbuktu and Gao. Support among Songhai and Fulani communities for independence has never clearly materialised.

Kidal region is also a key node along drug trafficking routes crossing the Sahel. The tolls levied along these routes constitute a major source of funding for whoever controls them.

200 km

Republic of Mali

Kidal Region

Azawad, following segons la reivindicació del FLA

Main area of Tuareg population

Creat amb Datawrapper

What are the FLA and JNIM?

The FLA (Front de Libération de l’Azawad) is a coalition of several Tuareg political-military factions, along with some Arab groups, founded in November 2024. It is led by Alghabass Ag Intalla, a veteran Tuareg figure who has moved between Tuareg nationalism and Islamism over the years. Its spokesperson is Mohamed Elmaouloud Ramadane, who in a 2025 interview with France 24 described independence as the organisation’s goal, while leaving the door open to “concessions” negotiations within the framework of a negotiation.

Among the groups that gave rise to the FLA are the secular-leaning National Movement for the Liberation of Azawad (MNLA), which proclaimed Azawad’s independence in 2012 and briefly took Timbuktu and Gao, and the Islamist High Council for the Unity of Azawad (HCUA), led by Ag Intalla.

The Group for the Support of Islam and Muslims (JNIM, by its Arabic acronym) is an al-Qaeda-affiliated jihadist organisation operating mainly in Mali and Burkina Faso. Its ranks include members of Mali’s main communities — Fulani, Songhai, Arab, Tuareg, Bambara and Dogon. Its leader, Iyad ag Ghali, is a Tuareg from the same Ifoghas confederation as Ag Intalla, though from a different branch. Over the years, the two have alternated between rivalry and tactical cooperation in their Kidal stronghold, illustrating the fluid links between the FLA, JNIM and their predecessor organisations.

The FLA has acknowledged that the offensive to retake Kidal was coordinated with JNIM. This pragmatic alliance between independence fighters and Islamists against a common enemy — the Malian army — echoes the one forged in 2012 between the MNLA and Ansar Dine. Then, the MNLA swiftly seized northern Mali and declared Azawad’s independence in April 2012. Within months, however, Ansar Dine — one of the groups that would later form JNIM — sidelined the MNLA, took control of the main cities and imposed a strict Islamist regime, which collapsed in 2013 when Malian forces, backed by France’s Operation Serval, retook the urban centres except Kidal. The Tuareg city, abandoned by jihadists, returned to MNLA control. Given this history and the divergent agendas of the actors involved, it remains unclear how long the FLA–JNIM alliance can endure or how coexistence might function.

What changed after Mali’s 2020 coup?

Since 2020, Mali has moved away from France’s orbit and towards Russia, which has provided heavy weaponry, on-the-ground military support via the Africa Corps, and diplomatic backing. Goïta has framed this pivot as “anti-colonial”, echoing the rhetoric of neighbouring juntas in Niger and Burkina Faso, with whom Mali has formed the Alliance of Sahel States.

Russian support was a key factor enabling Mali’s offensive on Kidal in November 2023, when it recaptured the city from the MNLA.

Two and a half years later, Kidal’s fall — accompanied by the killing of defence minister Sadio Camara in a JNIM attack in Kati, just 15km from Bamako — is a severe setback for this strategy. It underscores that Mali remains unable to prevent a familiar pattern: Tuareg insurgents regaining control over large parts of Azawad, while jihadist groups continue to operate across the country. Indeed, joint action between Tuareg fighters and JNIM has precedent, notably in the battle of Tinzaouaten in July 2024, when they defeated Malian forces and their Russian backers near the Algerian border.

Algeria is watching developments closely. Kidal region stretches along more than half the Algeria–Mali border, and Algiers views stability in Mali as crucial, particularly to prevent the spillover of secessionist tensions and jihadist threats. In 2015, Algerian mediation helped secure a peace deal between the Malian government and Tuareg and Arab armed groups. But relations have deteriorated since 2023, with Mali’s junta accusing Algeria of interference.

In January 2024, Mali’s junta withdrew from the 2015 accords, helping to explain why Azawadian independence armed groups have resumed their offensives against the army. Since then, the two countries have shot down each other’s drones near the border. Finally, this April, Mali recognised Morocco’s sovereignty over Western Sahara — with Rabat offering the Sahelian country investment and a logistical corridor to the Atlantic — a move that has, unsurprisingly, angered Algeria, the main backer of the former Spanish colony’s right to self-determination.

Multiple crises in a complex setting

Events in Azawad reflect the convergence of four interlinked dynamics.

The first is the enduring fracture between centre and periphery: since independence, the Malian state has failed to integrate the north politically or economically, and recurring Tuareg rebellions are the cyclical expression of this failure.

The second is jihadist expansion: JNIM is not merely an imported phenomenon but also a product of the marginalisation of local populations by the Malian state. Its recruitment success among Fulani communities in central Mali is a clear example.

The third is the geopolitical contest playing out in the Sahel, where external powers exploit instability and weak state structures. Alongside Russia, France and Morocco, actors such as China — focused on infrastructure and access to natural resources — and Turkey — also active in infrastructure and a supplier of military drones to Mali — have become increasingly involved.

The fourth dynamic is the involvement of virtually all armed actors in the region — the FLA, JNIM, pro-government militias and even elements of the Malian army — in the struggle to control trans-Saharan routes used for both legal trade and illicit trafficking: drugs (particularly cocaine moving from South America to Europe), arms, fuel and migrants. All derive revenue from these flows, whether directly or through tolls.

Control of Azawad has thus become more than a question of national sovereignty — for both separatists and the Malian state — or religious project, in the case of JNIM. It is also a means of securing economic self-sufficiency and strengthening leverage in any future negotiations.

https://www.nationalia.info/new/11759/the-azawad-board-is-flipped-once-again

Thirty years on: why the Universal Declaration of Linguistic Rights must be updated

Wed, 15 Apr 2026 12:29:07 +0000

The Universal Declaration of Linguistic Rights, proclaimed in Barcelona in 1996, remains a landmark in the defence of linguistic diversity. Yet the profound social, technological and political transformations of recent decades make clear the need to update it to meet the challenges of the 21st century.

In 1996, the Universal Declaration of Linguistic Rights was proclaimed in Barcelona, a document that would become one of the leading international references in the defence of linguistic diversity and in the articulation of the rights of language communities. Driven by a broad network of academic institutions, cultural organisations and civil society groups, the declaration helped to place linguistic rights firmly within the wider framework of human rights.

The initiative was led by PEN Català and the Centre Internacional Escarré per a les Minories Ètniques i les Nacions (CIEMEN), with the moral and technical support of UNESCO. Since its foundation, CIEMEN has worked to promote recognition of the rights of peoples and national minorities, consistently advocating for the protection and development of minoritised languages. Its role in shaping the Declaration reflects this longstanding commitment to linguistic and cultural diversity.

Nearly thirty years after its proclamation, the Declaration remains an important conceptual reference for academics, institutions and social movements working in the field of linguistic rights. However, the global context in which languages evolve has changed profoundly. Technological transformation, cultural and economic globalisation, and increasing human mobility have given rise to new sociolinguistic realities that were not fully visible at the time the document was drafted.

A pioneering document in the defence of linguistic diversity

When the Universal Declaration of Linguistic Rights was drafted, international debate on minority rights was only beginning to gain traction in multilateral institutions and academic circles. The document was built on a fundamental premise: languages are not merely tools of communication, but essential expressions of collective identity and vehicles of cultural transmission.

On this basis, the Declaration sets out a broad range of rights and principles. These include the right to use one’s own language in both public and private spheres, the right to education in the language of one’s linguistic community, the right to access media in that language, and the obligation of public authorities to guarantee the conditions necessary for the development and transmission of languages.

Despite its normative and symbolic value, the Declaration is not legally binding under international law, which has limited its direct impact on state language policies. Even so, it has exerted considerable influence on academic and political debate, helping to consolidate a shared conceptual framework for the defence of linguistic rights.

New challenges for languages in the 21st century

In recent decades, new challenges have emerged that directly affect the vitality of many languages. One of the most significant is the intensification of cultural and economic globalisation. In many fields—particularly science, technology and international markets—a small number of global languages have become increasingly dominant. This concentration of linguistic power can drive processes of language shift that threaten the survival of many minoritised languages.

This is compounded by growing human mobility. International migration and the transformation of contemporary societies have created increasingly multilingual social environments. Major cities, in particular, have become spaces where diverse languages and cultural identities coexist, raising new challenges for public policy and for the very definition of linguistic rights.

Another key factor is the digital revolution. When the Declaration was drafted, the internet was only beginning to expand. Today, digital environments are central to communication, cultural production and the transmission of knowledge. The presence—or absence—of a language in these spaces can largely determine its future vitality. Yet many minoritised languages remain underrepresented on digital platforms and lack adequate technological resources, particularly in areas such as language technologies and artificial intelligence.

Oriol Ramon at the ELEN General Assembly organised by CIEMEN in November 2025. // PHOTO: Gerard Magrinyà

Why the Declaration needs to be revised

In light of these developments, PEN Català and CIEMEN argue that while the conceptual framework of the Universal Declaration of Linguistic Rights remains fully valid, it requires updating to reflect the sociolinguistic realities of the 21st century and to strengthen its capacity for impact. The aim is for it to serve as the basis for a future declaration by the United Nations Human Rights Council that would expand international mechanisms for protecting endangered languages.

Such an update should, first, strengthen the relationship between linguistic rights and the international human rights system, potentially enabling broader institutional recognition within global bodies.

Second, it should explicitly incorporate the digital dimension of linguistic rights. Access to technology in one’s own language, the development of linguistic resources for artificial intelligence, presence on digital platforms, and support for digital content creation are all increasingly crucial to ensuring the vitality of languages.

Finally, the revision should deepen the collective dimension of linguistic rights. The survival of many languages depends not only on the individual rights of speakers, but also on the capacity of linguistic communities to maintain institutional, cultural and educational spaces in which their languages can develop and thrive.

Who can take part and how

The two leading organisations and their partners intend to focus the update on the Preamble, the Preliminary provisions and the general framework of the text. To this end, they will open a participatory process aimed at organisations, institutions, PEN centres and specialists in the field of linguistic rights, with the goal of gathering contributions to adapt the Declaration’s principles and provisions to the new contexts threatening language use and survival.

Any institution, organisation, collective or community worldwide working to defend, promote and ensure equality between languages may take part through representatives. Individual contributions from experts in the field will also be welcomed.

The consultation period will open on 15 April 2026, coinciding with the public presentation of the project in Barcelona, and will close on 31 December of the same year.

An important step in the international recognition of linguistic diversity

The Universal Declaration of Linguistic Rights marked an important step in the international recognition of linguistic diversity. Today, nearly three decades on, the challenge is to update this instrument so that it remains effective in a profoundly transformed world.

Updating the Declaration does not mean questioning its historical value, but reinforcing its founding spirit. In a global context shaped by interdependence and cultural diversity, safeguarding the vitality of languages is not only a cultural issue, but a democratic one. The task now is to take a further step and turn this framework into a more effective tool for protecting linguistic diversity worldwide.

https://www.nationalia.info/opinion/11757/thirty-years-on-why-the-universal-declaration-of-linguistic-rights-must-be-updated

Gilles Simeoni’s gesture: symbol and warning amid the deadlock over Corsican autonomy

Thu, 02 Apr 2026 12:49:16 +0000

The political leader chooses not to wear the tricolour sash at a time when recognition of Corsica’s autonomous status remains a distant prospect

At the investiture session in Bastia following the 2026 French municipal elections, the autonomist leader Gilles Simeoni made a gesture laden with political meaning: he chose not to wear the tricolour sash — the institutional symbol of the French Republic — traditionally worn by mayors and councillors at official ceremonies.

Far from being a mere protocol anecdote, the decision forms part of a political strategy consistent with the Corsican autonomist project. The blue-white-red sash represents the authority of the French state; dispensing with it at a moment as solemn as a municipal inauguration symbolically calls that centrality into question and asserts a distinct political legitimacy rooted in the territory.

A gesture at the right moment

Simeoni’s move comes at a particularly delicate time. The constitutional reform project that is meant to recognise an autonomous status for Corsica is facing fresh delays in Paris. Consideration of the text, initially scheduled for the spring, has been postponed due to a crowded legislative agenda and may not reach the Senate until well into the political term. It will still require a lengthy approval process.

This delay is fuelling frustration among Corsican representatives, who have spent years negotiating a differentiated institutional settlement within France. In this context, Simeoni’s gesture can be read as a warning: faced with the state’s slowness — or lack of political will — the autonomist movement is maintaining both political and symbolic pressure.

The draft in question, approved by the French government in July 2025, provides that Corsican authorities “may be empowered” to adapt state laws and regulations, always within limits to be set by a future organic law. The Corsican government, led by autonomists, welcomed the proposal, while the Council of State warned that the wording could grant too much autonomy to Corsica. Independence supporters, for their part, pointed to its limitations and shortcomings.

A message beyond Bastia

The gesture in Bastia goes beyond the local sphere. It not only addresses the French government, but also sends a message to Corsican society: the autonomy project remains alive, but it will not advance without sustained political pressure.

In this sense, the rejection of the tricolour sash is less an institutional rejection than an assertion of symbolic sovereignty. And at a time when constitutional reform has stalled, symbols have once again moved to the centre of the political stage.

https://www.nationalia.info/brief/11755/gilles-simeonis-gesture-symbol-and-warning-amid-the-deadlock-over-corsican-autonomy

Nephew could unseat uncle in the Faroe Islands

Sat, 28 Mar 2026 12:56:05 +0000

The Løgtingið in Tórshavn, the Feroese capital Author: Helle Kettner

The sovereignist conservative party Fólkaflokkurin has emerged as the clear winner of the parliamentary elections in the Faroe Islands on 26 March 2026, securing 9 out of 33 seats (26.7%), its best result in more than seven decades. Its leader, Beinir Johannesen, just 29, could become the youngest løgmaður (prime minister) in the history of the Faroe Islands, symbolising a generational shift in Faroese politics. The current løgmaður is his uncle, Aksel V. Johannesen, of the Social Democratic party Javnaðarflokkurin.

The conservative bloc is also bolstered by Unionist Liberals Sambandsflokkurin (7 seats), while the previously largest party, the Social Democrats of Javnaðarflokkurin, fall back to 6 MPs. The Republicans of Tjóðveldi, one of the main openly pro-independence forces, obtain the same result.

The results confirm the centrality of the national question in Faroese politics. Up to five parties with representation, including Fólkaflokkurin itself, advocate expanding self-government or moving towards greater sovereignty, particularly in areas such as foreign policy and the management of fisheries resources. This reflects the persistent tension within the Kingdom of Denmark between institutional dependence and the desire for self-determination.

Inside the Løgtingið // PHOTO: Helle Kettner

Negotiations to form a government will be key: a centre-right coalition (the conservatives of Fólkaflokkurin, the liberal unionists of Sambandsflokkurin and the centrist Christian party Miðflokkurin) could secure a narrow majority (18 seats). Alternatively, a broader and more stable grand coalition of Fólkaflokkurin, Sambandsflokkurin and Javnaðarflokkurin (22 seats) is also being considered. In any case, the new executive will have to address not only socio-economic issues — such as access to housing or economic development — but also the national positioning of this Arctic territory which, despite not being an independent state, is increasingly acting as a political subject in its own right.

The youth elections

These elections have undoubtedly belonged to the young. The leader of the most voted party has been head of his party since the age of 25 and, at just 29, has delivered Fólkaflokkurin’s best results in decades. Meanwhile, Bjørg Brynhildardóttir, 20, of the pro-independence party Tjóðveldi, was the most voted candidate within her party (with more personal votes than the party leader himself) and has become the youngest MP ever elected to the Løgting. The party has described her as the voice of youth and, according to former leader Høgni Hoydal, “she is a social profile who has brought the roots back to our party, namely the working class, which we have been missing for some time. It is the renewal we have been waiting for, both in Faroese politics and within our party.”

Now attention turns to the showdown between uncle and nephew for control of the Faroese government, which will determine whether a genuine generational shift in Faroese politics takes place.

https://www.nationalia.info/brief/11754/nephew-could-unseat-uncle-in-the-faroe-islands

No clear majority in Denmark

Thu, 26 Mar 2026 10:12:52 +0000

After four weeks of campaigning and an election day marked by high drama, Denmark has its results — but no clear majority. With turnout reaching 84%, voters have produced a highly fragmented parliament comprising 12 parties. The outgoing government has failed to convince the electorate, suffering its worst-ever results for the two main parties in the coalition.

One of the key figures in the coming negotiations will be the outgoing foreign minister, Lars Løkke Rasmussen. With his Moderates holding 14 seats, he is likely to play a decisive role in government formation, with the ability to tilt a majority either to the left or to the right.

No bloc reaches 90 seats

It has been a bruising night for the government’s two main parties. The Social Democrats, led by prime minister Mette Frederiksen, have won the election but recorded their worst result since 1903. Meanwhile, Venstre (the liberal party), the largest force on the right, has also suffered the worst result in its history.

Neither bloc has secured a majority, and for now no one can count on reaching the 90 seats required in a parliament that breaks down as follows:

Left-wing parties: 84
Right-wing parties: 77
Centre party (Moderaterne): 14

Percentage of the seats in the Danish Parliament (Danmarks Statistik)

Social Democrats 38 (-12); Socialist People’s Party (SF) 20 (+5); Venstre (liberals) 18 (-5); Liberal Alliance 16 (+2); Danish People’s Party 16 (+11); Moderates (centre) 14 (-2); Conservatives 13 (+3); Red-Green Alliance (Enhedslisten) 11 (+2); Social Liberals 10 (+3); Denmark Democrats 10 (-4); The Alternative 5 (-1); and the New Right 4 (+4).

Three leaders vie to lead negotiations

Mette Frederiksen, Venstre leader Troels Lund Poulsen, and Lars Løkke Rasmussen have all signalled their intention to lead negotiations, which will be conducted through the figure of the den kongelige undersøger (“royal investigator”).

This role is central to Denmark’s government formation process in the absence of a clear majority. Following the election, the monarch convenes a kongerunde (“round of consultations”), during which party leaders indicate whom they believe should lead negotiations. Based on these recommendations, a figure — typically a political leader with relative parliamentary backing — is tasked with exploring possible majorities and steering talks to form a government.

Although not formally codified in the constitution, this has been an established political practice since the 1960s. The royal investigator effectively acts as chief negotiator until a viable candidate for prime minister emerges who does not face a parliamentary majority against them.

Denmark’s well-known institutional efficiency usually extends to government formation, but this time the process may prove more complex. The outgoing government holds the current record, having taken 42 days to form amid an unusually broad coalition. The previous record dated back to 1975, when it took 35 days. The royal consultations begin today, and the clock is now ticking.

The North Atlantic seats

In such a fragmented parliament, the four North Atlantic seats — from the Faroe Islands and Greenland — can become highly influential despite their limited number. Over the past 25 years, the left bloc has traditionally been able to rely on three or four of these seats, but that may not be the case this time. Attention now turns to how the four North Atlantic MPs will position themselves.

From Greenland, the elected representatives will be Qarsoq Høegh-Dam of the pro-independence protest party Naleraq and Naaja H. Nathanielsen, a naalakkersuisoq (minister) from the left-wing pro-independence party Inuit Ataqatigiit (IA). While IA won the largest share of the vote, Høegh-Dam emerged as the top individual vote-getter.

This result will also have consequences for Greenland’s government, the Naalakkersuisut, as IA will need to appoint a new minister for trade, raw materials, energy, justice and equality — a portfolio previously held by Nathanielsen. Neither MP has yet indicated whom they would support as Denmark’s next prime minister.

In the Faroe Islands, the social democrat Sjúrður Skaale (Javnaðarflokkurin) and the unionist Anna Falkenberg (Sambandsflokkurin) have both retained their seats, each securing strong results and record personal votes.

Another vote in the Faroe Islands

Voters in the Faroe Islands will return to the polls on 26 March for elections to the Løgting, the Faroese parliament. Recent polling suggests a victory for the right-wing opposition parties, projected to win 19 seats, compared with 14 for the current governing coalition.

According to these polls, a coalition between the unionist party and the People’s Party could secure a majority with 17 seats. The outcome will not only shape Faroese politics but may also influence the islands’ national aspirations and the broader sovereignty debate in the North Atlantic.

https://www.nationalia.info/brief/11753/no-clear-majority-in-denmark

Cabinda sovereignty movement tries to keep half a century of struggle alive by declaring independence

Sat, 14 Mar 2026 10:53:51 +0000

FLEC-FAC says it will not stop until it expels Angolan army · Angola maintains firm control over Cabinda, which produces 60% of the country’s oil · NGOs report serious violations of civil and political rights

The main pro-independence politico-military group in Cabinda has proclaimed the independence of the enclave in northern Angola and says it will not halt armed operations until Angolan troops withdraw from the territory. With only limited operational capacity inside Cabinda, the separatists are increasingly trying to shift the conflict onto the international stage. Allegations of human rights abuses and disputes over the exploitation of the territory’s rich natural resources lie at the heart of a conflict whose roots stretch back to the Portuguese colonial era.

What is Cabinda and why is there an independence movement?

Cabinda is a territory of about 7,300 square kilometres with a population of roughly 900,000 people, located north of the mouth of the Congo River. It belongs to Angola but is geographically separated from the rest of the country by a strip of land belonging to the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

Despite its small size, Cabinda is strategically crucial to Angola: roughly 60% of the country’s oil production comes from the enclave.

Independence supporters argue that in 1885, during the era of European colonial expansion in Africa, Portugal and the local Cabindan kingdom of N’Goyo agreed in the Treaty of Simulambuco that Cabinda would become a Portuguese protectorate. According to this interpretation, Cabinda and Angola were separate administrative entities within the Portuguese Empire.

The later administrative integration of Cabinda into Angola—gradually carried out by Portugal during the colonial period, particularly in the 1950s and 1960s—is therefore considered by the separatists to have violated the treaty and to be legally invalid. Angola rejects this interpretation, and no international organisation has formally recognised the Cabindan independence claim.

Since 1975, the Angolan army has maintained a strong military presence in the territory. Academics and human rights organisations say the government restricts freedom of association and expression there, citing the banning of civic groups such as Mpalabanda, arbitrary arrests and prison sentences for people who peacefully advocate independence or even discuss autonomy.

The independence movement also argues that most of the revenue from oil extraction flows to the Angolan state rather than benefiting local development or employment. This is despite a 2006 agreement between the government and part of the independence movement that promised a degree of political and fiscal autonomy—provisions that critics say were never implemented.

Who proclaimed independence?

Cabinda’s independence was proclaimed on February 2 by the Front for the Liberation of the State of Cabinda – Armed Forces of Cabinda (FLEC-FAC), the enclave’s main politico-military group and one of the successors of the original FLEC, founded in 1963 under Portuguese colonial rule.

Today’s FLEC-FAC is a relatively loose organisation that has experienced several internal splits over the decades. It operates with an unclear chain of command divided between several exile centres in Europe—mainly in Belgium, France and Portugal—and small guerrilla units operating from the forests of inland Cabinda, including the Maiombe forest, or from areas near the borders with the Republic of the Congo and the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

The declaration of independence was presented at a press conference in Brussels, led by FLEC president Emmanuel Nzita and introduced by the organisation’s head of international relations, André Quinta.

Representatives of the High Council of Cabinda, a pro-independence political body created in 2019 to coordinate the FLEC-FAC with other Cabindan actors and strengthen the international profile of the independence cause, were also present.

During the event, organisers played a video they said had been recorded inside Cabinda. In the footage, FLEC-FAC secretary-general Jacinto António Telica proclaimed independence and declared that the armed struggle would continue until Angolan troops withdrew from the enclave.

The independence declaration event in Brussels. From left to right: José Luís Luemba Veras, Jean-Claude Nzita, Emmanuel Nzita, André Quinta and Francisco Sebastião Sumbo. / Image: screenshot from a video on the Brussels Press Club TV Youtube channel.

Is this the first time independence has been proclaimed?

No. In 1974, shortly after the Carnation Revolution, Portugal announced that it would decolonize its African territories.

In January 1975, Portugal reached an agreement to withdraw from Angola with the three main Angolan independence movements (the MPLA, the FNLA and UNITA), but held no negotiations with the FLEC.

On 1 August 1975, the FLEC proclaimed the Republic of Cabinda, attempting to create a fait accompli that would precede Angolan independence, scheduled for 11 November. FLEC, however, was operating mainly from exile and its actual control over Cabindan territory was limited.

In the following months, coinciding with Angolan independence, the MPLA sent forces into the enclave with Cuban support and occupied Cabinda without encountering any resistance capable of stopping it.

What has changed on the ground since the February 2 declaration?

Information about FLEC-FAC movements in rural areas is limited. In the cities and along major transport routes, however, there are no signs that the situation has changed.

Cabinda remains firmly under Angolan control, and no military or other actions by Cabindan separatists have been reported since the declaration.

The day before the announcement, however, Angolan police arrested five people who were demonstrating to commemorate the Treaty of Simulambuco.

There has been a rise in fatalities linked to the conflict in recent months. By mid-2025, the conflict-monitoring organisation ACLED had recorded 80 deaths involving Angolan soldiers, FLEC-FAC fighters and civilians—the highest figure since 2016.

Even so, analysts agree that the imbalance of power between the two sides is vast. FLEC-FAC does not have the capacity to control Cabinda, let alone establish a functioning independent state.

Why proclaim independence now?

When such declarations cannot be translated into tangible control on the ground, their main aim is usually to keep the issue alive internationally, attract attention and potentially prompt reactions from foreign governments or institutions that might pressure the parent state—in this case, Angola.

One of FLEC-FAC’s spokespeople in exile, Jean-Claude Nzita, used the occasion to make an offer to US President Donald Trump, proposing to “share” Cabinda’s natural resources “in exchange for the right to self-determination”.

There has been no response from Washington. During the Brussels event, however, André Quinta said a FLEC-FAC delegation “had been received at the [U. S.] State Department and the Senate”, without specifying when.

How has the Angolan government reacted?

The government has said little publicly, likely to avoid giving the declaration visibility or international legitimacy.

There is little indication that Angola’s strategy will change: tight control over any independence or autonomy activism inside Cabinda, combined with continued investment in large infrastructure projects—ports, airports, refineries and power networks—designed to bind the enclave more closely to the Angolan economy.

Angolan President João Lourenço has announced that the deep-water port of Caio will be inaugurated in April. The facility is intended to become a logistics hub combining maritime transport and oil-sector operations and competing with other ports along the central and southern Atlantic coast of Africa.

Are there other independence or autonomy movements in Angola?

Yes, though none have the same intensity or continuity as the movement in Cabinda.

For around two decades, some groups have called for self-determination in eastern Angola, referring to the region as Lunda Tchokwe. In some academic circles and on social media, there are also calls for Angola to recognise the distinct identity of the northern provinces of Zaire and Uíge, which—like Cabinda—are part of the Bakongo cultural sphere.

https://www.nationalia.info/new/11749/cabinda-sovereignty-movement-tries-to-keep-half-a-century-of-struggle-alive-by-declaring-i

Rojava in Transition: From War to a Vigilant Routine

Wed, 11 Mar 2026 13:56:44 +0000

On the streets of Qamishlo, Hasakah and Kobane, life has returned to an almost everyday rhythm after months marked by uncertainty and military tensions. Markets are operating with relative normality, taxis move along the main roads, and many families are trying to reorganise their homes and recover habits that for a long time had been put on hold. In the cafés of central Qamishlo, young people once again gather in the afternoons while shopkeepers raise their shutters each morning. They are ordinary scenes that, until recently, seemed difficult to imagine.

Women’s protest following the publication of a video by a member of the Syrian government displaying the severed braid of a Kurdish fighter after killing her. Author: Amina Hussein

“Life had been suspended. Qamishlo looked like an abandoned city,” says Ahmed Darwish, owner of a small grocery shop in the city. According to him, the improvement in security has gradually brought people back to the streets and local markets. “People are buying again, talking with their neighbours and spending time outside. It may seem like a small thing, but for us it is very important because it means the city is breathing again,” Darwish adds.

A Cautious Eye on the Situation

The political agreement of 29 January between the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) and the Syrian government, together with the ceasefire announced shortly afterwards, has helped reduce military tensions across much of north-east Syria. After days of clashes, mass displacement and the constant presence of multiple armed actors, residents are beginning to perceive a gradual change in the security situation. This shift has not removed concerns entirely, but it has restored a degree of stability that makes it possible to resume everyday activities that had been interrupted for weeks.

Despite these improvements, many residents continue to observe the situation with caution. More than a decade of conflict has fostered a wary attitude among the population, who prefer to wait before declaring the new phase secure. “When you have lived through so many years of war, you learn not to trust calm too easily,” explains Nazir Hassan, a resident of Hasakah. “But this time people want to believe it could be different, and that maybe, slowly, we will be able to return to a normal life,” he says.

The arrival of Syrian security forces in the city of Hasakah.
Photo: Amina Hussein

Humanitarian Aid Begins to Arrive

Advances in security, together with the gradual integration of the SDF into the new structure agreed with the Syrian government, have contributed to this climate of relative stability. At the same time, the arrival of humanitarian aid in several parts of the region has partially eased the situation for many families who, in previous months, had faced shortages of basic goods and difficulties accessing essential services.

One of the most visible effects of the recent agreements has been the reduction in armed clashes and the implementation of humanitarian measures such as the release and exchange of prisoners and displaced persons — an initiative many families had long awaited. These measures have helped create a sense of relief among the population, particularly in communities directly affected by the fighting.

Image from a demonstration in support of the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) in the city of Qamishlo.
Photo: Amina Hussein

Kobane: A Symbol of Kurdish Resistance

In Kobane, a city that for years symbolised Kurdish resistance against the Islamic State group, the situation has also begun to improve after particularly difficult weeks. Several humanitarian aid convoys have reached the city carrying food, medicines and medical supplies, easing pressure on hospitals and care centres.

“In the first days almost nothing was arriving and people were very worried,” recalls Halima, a resident of Kobane. According to her, the situation began to change with the arrival of the first aid trucks. “Now convoys are coming in with food and medicine. It is still not enough for everyone, but at least we know the city is no longer completely isolated and that things are changing.”

Despite these improvements, local authorities acknowledge that the logistical situation remains complicated. The roads connecting Kobane with other towns in north-east Syria are not fully open, and the transport of goods continues to be irregular. This limits the steady flow of supplies and forces many humanitarian organisations to rely on alternative routes or partial access.

Calls to Preserve the Women’s Brigade

The improvement in security is also being reflected on the military front through a gradual reorganisation of the armed forces present in the region. Under the framework agreed between Kurdish authorities and the Syrian government, the SDF will be integrated through four brigades of more than 1,300 fighters each — a structure intended to redefine the role of Kurdish forces within the new security system.

At the same time, several Kurdish security forces have been deployed in Kurdish-majority towns and cities following the withdrawal of SDF units to previously agreed positions. This redistribution aims to reduce the risk of direct confrontations and establish a more stable security system capable of protecting civilians while the political process continues to unfold.

“We are doing everything possible to ensure the agreement succeeds and that this new phase is stable,” says Rohilat Afrin, commander of the Women’s Protection Units (YPJ). Afrin stresses that many Kurdish fighters have spent years defending the region and now hope their efforts will not be lost in the reorganisation process. “We want peace to prevail and for the achievements of these years to be preserved. After so many sacrifices, we want the YPJ to continue to exist and for there to be a brigade made up of women.”

Photo from a military parade by the Women’s Protection Units (YPJ) marking International Women’s Day on 8 March.
Photo: Amina Hussein

Learning in One’s Mother Tongue

Alongside the military changes, the process of administrative integration is also advancing gradually. The Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria (AANES), which has governed much of the region for years, has begun incorporating its institutions into Syrian state structures under the framework of the recent political agreements.

In this context, delegations from the Syrian government have recently visited Qamishlo airport and several oil fields in the north-east — strategic areas previously under the control of the SDF. These visits form part of a coordination process aimed at establishing joint mechanisms for administrative management, particularly in key sectors such as infrastructure, energy and public services.

One area where this process is already beginning to have an impact is the education system. In Hasakah and other cities, local authorities have initiated talks to reintegrate schools into unified state structures while attempting to preserve some of the elements developed during the years of self-administration.

“AANES education certificates will be recognised by the state, and students who wish will be able to continue receiving classes in their mother tongue,” explains Aya Yousef, a teacher at a school in Qamishlo. According to her, ensuring educational continuity is one of the main priorities after years in which many students have grown up amid instability.

Between Relief and Caution

With the improvement in security and the gradual restoration of services, daily routines have progressively returned to many cities in Rojava. Children are going back to school — at least to those not currently occupied by displaced families — markets are regaining activity, and many households are beginning to plan for the future with a slightly longer horizon.

“Now we can go out into the street without immediate fear, and that allows us to think about things that once seemed impossible,” says Halima, who is still staying with her family in a school turned into a shelter in Kobane. Despite the improvement, her goal is to return home soon. “We have been here for two months. Now we want to go back to our villages and rebuild our lives.”

Image from a demonstration in support of the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) in the city of Qamishlo.
Photo: Amina Hussein

Despite recent progress, significant challenges remain. Basic infrastructure still requires repairs, many roads are not functioning normally, and the process of political and military integration remains complex. For many residents, the current situation represents more a transitional phase than a definitive solution.

For now, the population lives with a mixture of relief and caution. The war has not disappeared entirely, but it has entered a different phase — less defined by active fighting and more by institutional reorganisation and the gradual reconstruction of everyday life. “After so many years, people just want stability,” says Kamil, a resident of Qamishlo. “We are not asking for miracles. We simply want to live, work and watch our children grow up without having to flee again.”

https://www.nationalia.info/new/11750/rojava-in-transition-from-war-to-a-vigilant-routine

Wales votes in a contest framed as “humanity or indifference, Plaid or Reform”

Wed, 04 Mar 2026 09:00:21 +0000

The leader of Wales’s pro-independence party – which could top the poll for the first time in its history – has cast May’s election as a stark, binary choice. Greens, Labour and the Conservatives, however, have yet to say their final word

Plaid leader Rhun ap Iorwerth. Author: Plaid Cymru

With just two months to go before voters head to the Senedd, Plaid Cymru has staked its strategy on portraying the campaign as an almost epic struggle between “tolerance or division, progress or decline, culture or ignorance, humanity or indifference” – embodied, respectively, by Plaid itself and Reform UK, the hard-right party led by Nigel Farage.

That was the framing set out this weekend by Plaid’s leader, Rhun ap Iorwerth, at the party’s conference in Newport. Polling appears to sustain the narrative of a two-horse race: Plaid and Reform are each on 30% of voting intentions, while other parties struggle to break into double digits.

If borne out at the ballot box, such projections would amount to a historic political earthquake in a Welsh system that has been relatively stable since the first devolved elections in 1999:

Welsh Labour has always finished first and has led every Welsh government.
Plaid Cymru has never surpassed 30% of the vote and, when in government, has done so as Labour’s junior partner.
To the right of the Conservative Party, parties have played little to no role.

At the last Senedd election, in 2021, Labour fell just short of an outright majority, while Plaid was overtaken by the Conservatives in both votes and seats.

Seats obtained at the Welsh Parliament election, May 2021

The Labour Party formed a single-party government after the elections, with the Conservatives serving as the leaders of the opposition. Plaid Cymru maintained a cooperation agreement with Labour until May 2024.

Polling at the start of 2026 points to a markedly different landscape. A Labour party in crisis – not only in Wales but across the UK – would cede leadership of the left to Plaid and, perhaps, even second place to the Green Party of England and Wales, which last week defeated Labour in a Manchester by-election for a seat in the UK parliament. On the right, Reform would emerge as the dominant force, taking more than twice as many votes as the Conservatives.

Vote percentage prediction. May 2026 election

Polls published since the beginning of the year predict a Plaid victory, but they do not rule out the possibility that Reform could be the most voted party. The higher combined vote share of the left places Plaid, a priori, as the clear favourite to lead the Welsh government.

Plaid Cymru: moderation and contrast as a path to victory

Plaid Cymru is an independence party positioned to the left of Labour on socio-economic policy. Yet it has entered the 7 May contest with calculated moderation. Party strategists appear mindful that they should avoid proposals voters might deem too radical, while knowing that even a relatively cautious platform on national and social questions will stand in sharp contrast to Reform’s reactionary pitch.

On its website, Plaid sets out pledges for its first 100 days in office, should it be able to form a government. The emphasis is on centre-left social policy, including:

improving the quality of care within the NHS in Wales;
raising standards across the education system;
creating a new body, Unnos, to implement an affordable housing strategy.

On constitutional relations with Westminster, there is no mention of independence in the immediate programme. While Plaid continues to advocate full sovereignty as its long-term objective, it has placed that goal beyond the scope of a first term and instead prioritises a gradual expansion of devolved powers.

The party promises a “reset”, centred on three key measures:

Continuing to press London to transfer further powers to Cardiff, bringing Welsh self-government into line with Scotland’s;
opening talks with the UK government to define a new funding model that allocates resources according to Wales’s needs rather than population share;
establishing a National Commission to launch a “national conversation” on Wales’s next steps in its relationship with the United Kingdom.

As might be expected, Reform UK portrays Plaid as “left-wing extremists” intent on dragging Wales out of the UK. Though Reform has yet to publish its manifesto, Reform Senedd member James Evans has made clear that his party wants “no more devolution, no more powers”.

And the rest?

There is little to suggest that any party will govern alone if the polls prove accurate. A crucial variable will be the performance of the Green Party in England and Wales, which is experiencing exponential growth across the UK, having tripled its membership in six months to 200,000.

Since 2020, the Greens have backed Welsh self-determination, although they remain organisationally tied to their English counterparts, reflecting their non-nationalist roots. The party could win its first-ever seats in the Senedd and become pivotal to the formation of a left-leaning administration. Given Plaid and the Greens’ record of cooperation at local level and their proximity on both national and social questions, a post-election pact would be plausible.

Labour’s role in a deal is harder to predict, though not inconceivable. The obstacle may be less ideological – Labour and Plaid have governed together before – than psychological: a historic slump could sap the party’s appetite for office. A more likely scenario might be an explicit or tacit understanding among left-of-centre parties around a non-confrontational programme. The Labour first minister, Eluned Morgan, has not ruled this out “if needs must”, and has indicated support for seeking additional powers from Westminster.

For the right, the path to government looks steeper. It would likely require a clear-cut Reform victory coupled with an agreement with the Conservative Party. Yet the Tories would face an acutely uncomfortable and risky dilemma: propping up the very party that is cannibalising their support not only in Wales but across the United Kingdom.

https://www.nationalia.info/new/11748/wales-votes-in-a-contest-framed-as-humanity-or-indifference-plaid-or-reform