n all corners of the globe, a tsunami of tumult and division is engulfing our societies.
This chaotic landscape is rife with contradictions: Never have we, as humans, been more connected; yet we seem ever more fractured within our communities and across international borders. At no time in history has innovation generated such wealth and opportunity; yet the gap between rich and poor is alarming. More people worldwide have the right to vote than ever before; yet populist demagogues are gaining power in country after country. All of this is unfolding against a grim backdrop of transborder warfare, expansionism, and irredentism that show little sign of abating.
The rise in interethnic and interreligious tensions is fueled by a frightening normalization of incendiary rhetoric. Social media, when misused, acts as a catalyst, amplifying disinformation and conspiracy theories. The result is a toxic ecosystem in which fear, hatred and violence are proliferating.
What can be done to combat this dangerous scourge? Have we truly reached, to paraphrase Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney, a moment of “rupture”?
We write as individuals—and as friends—who represent three continents (Europe, Africa, the Americas) and the three Abrahamic faiths. Do we agree on everything? Of course not. But we do share one overarching conviction: Our common humanity is greater than the sum of its parts.
As the international community marks Human Fraternity on 4 February, it is incumbent upon us to reflect on the values of dignity and mutual respect as vital ingredients of dialogue and coexistence. These principles are not abstract ideals; they are the foundations of peaceful and prosperous societies.
The universal lessons of the Holocaust—perhaps the most devastating testament to where dehumanization can lead— as well as other atrocities that have cruelly unfolded since the end of the Cold War, teach us that hatred does not begin with violence. It begins with words, with exclusion, with the slow erosion of empathy and moral responsibility. Remembering this is not about lamenting the past: It is a warning for the present and the future, to people of all backgrounds and creeds. Most of all, it is an essential message to our youth.
Many of us feel paralyzed by the scale of today’s crises. But passivity is not an option. We must act, and we have the tools to do so.
We can help disoriented, discouraged young people forge constructive paths forward. We can invest in education that values historical awareness and moral courage. In the fight against all violent extremism—against racism, antisemitism, Islamophobia, and every form of prejudice—education is the most potent of tools.
Equally vital is human connectivity: cultural exchange, dialogue across differences and faiths, and sustained engagement among communities. When people encounter one another as individuals rather than abstractions, hatred loosens its grip. What unites us becomes more salient than what divides us.
And we can lean into our humanity. Fraternity does not mean uniformity. What it requires is humility, curiosity, and the courage to listen. It recognizes that dignity is not zero–sum—and that the security of one group cannot be built at the expense of another.
As our universe vacillates, it behooves us to summon optimism and confidence in our common humanity. Let us step out of our comfort zones and do a better job of working together, for a brighter future. In the noble spirit of Human Fraternity.
Note: All three authors have formerly served on the International Jury for the Zayed Award for Human Fraternity. Every year, 4 February is recognized by the United Nations as the International Day of Human Fraternity.
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Rekindling human fraternity in a turbulent world
Photo by أخٌفيالله on Unsplash.
February 3, 2026
In a divided world, rebuilding human fraternity through education, dialogue, and shared dignity is essential to counter hatred and extremism, writes Irina Bokova, Adama Dieng, and Leah Pisar.
I
n all corners of the globe, a tsunami of tumult and division is engulfing our societies.
This chaotic landscape is rife with contradictions: Never have we, as humans, been more connected; yet we seem ever more fractured within our communities and across international borders. At no time in history has innovation generated such wealth and opportunity; yet the gap between rich and poor is alarming. More people worldwide have the right to vote than ever before; yet populist demagogues are gaining power in country after country. All of this is unfolding against a grim backdrop of transborder warfare, expansionism, and irredentism that show little sign of abating.
The rise in interethnic and interreligious tensions is fueled by a frightening normalization of incendiary rhetoric. Social media, when misused, acts as a catalyst, amplifying disinformation and conspiracy theories. The result is a toxic ecosystem in which fear, hatred and violence are proliferating.
What can be done to combat this dangerous scourge? Have we truly reached, to paraphrase Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney, a moment of “rupture”?
We write as individuals—and as friends—who represent three continents (Europe, Africa, the Americas) and the three Abrahamic faiths. Do we agree on everything? Of course not. But we do share one overarching conviction: Our common humanity is greater than the sum of its parts.
As the international community marks Human Fraternity on 4 February, it is incumbent upon us to reflect on the values of dignity and mutual respect as vital ingredients of dialogue and coexistence. These principles are not abstract ideals; they are the foundations of peaceful and prosperous societies.
The universal lessons of the Holocaust—perhaps the most devastating testament to where dehumanization can lead— as well as other atrocities that have cruelly unfolded since the end of the Cold War, teach us that hatred does not begin with violence. It begins with words, with exclusion, with the slow erosion of empathy and moral responsibility. Remembering this is not about lamenting the past: It is a warning for the present and the future, to people of all backgrounds and creeds. Most of all, it is an essential message to our youth.
Many of us feel paralyzed by the scale of today’s crises. But passivity is not an option. We must act, and we have the tools to do so.
We can help disoriented, discouraged young people forge constructive paths forward. We can invest in education that values historical awareness and moral courage. In the fight against all violent extremism—against racism, antisemitism, Islamophobia, and every form of prejudice—education is the most potent of tools.
Equally vital is human connectivity: cultural exchange, dialogue across differences and faiths, and sustained engagement among communities. When people encounter one another as individuals rather than abstractions, hatred loosens its grip. What unites us becomes more salient than what divides us.
And we can lean into our humanity. Fraternity does not mean uniformity. What it requires is humility, curiosity, and the courage to listen. It recognizes that dignity is not zero–sum—and that the security of one group cannot be built at the expense of another.
As our universe vacillates, it behooves us to summon optimism and confidence in our common humanity. Let us step out of our comfort zones and do a better job of working together, for a brighter future. In the noble spirit of Human Fraternity.
Note: All three authors have formerly served on the International Jury for the Zayed Award for Human Fraternity. Every year, 4 February is recognized by the United Nations as the International Day of Human Fraternity.
