Peacebuilding at the Edge: Navigating Paradoxes in a World on Fire

by Luis Gómez Chow

As peacebuilders today, we find ourselves caught in four paradoxes. These paradoxes shape our work, test our principles, and stretch our models of change. They are not abstract dilemmas. They define how we organize, how we relate, and how we survive. Two recent gatherings in which I represented my organization, PartnersGlobal, offered me both insight and invitation — to reflect deeply on these paradoxes and explore how we might navigate them together.

The first was a workshop convened by the Netherlands Ministry of Foreign Affairs, PeaceNexus Foundation, Robert Bosch Stiftung, and Humanity United, focused on reimagining how international NGOs can better support locally led peacebuilding. The second was a strategic gathering of the International Steering Group of the Global Partnership for the Prevention of Armed Conflict (GPPAC), where colleagues from across the globe came together to assess the state of our global network and kick off our Strategic Planning process for the next 5 years. These conversations, though distinct, converged around a shared insight: we are navigating a moment defined not just by crisis, but by paradox.

Paradox 1: We need each other more than ever — just when it’s hardest to stay connected.

The scale and complexity of the crises we face demand interconnectedness. We need one another more than ever — for protection, for solidarity, for coordinated action, and for moral courage. And yet, the existing conditions we find ourselves operating in — rising authoritarianism, scarcity, social fragmentation, fear — make strong networks difficult to build and sustain. We know we are stronger together, but the pressures around us often drive us toward fragmentation.

Paradox 2: We are stuck between an outdated NGO model and an unformed future.

The traditional NGO model, which we inherited from an earlier era of development is collapsing. It’s too slow, too hierarchical, and increasingly disconnected from local realities. But we haven’t yet built what comes next. We’re caught between a model that no longer works and alternatives that haven’t yet taken shape. And while there’s growing interest in learning from movements — borrowing their adaptability, flexibility, and horizontal leadership — I’m not convinced the answer is for formal organizations to reinvent themselves as movements. Just as we resist the NGO-ization of movements, we must be cautious about the reverse. Networks like GPPAC and the Partners Network offer us some ideas of what could be possible, but we are navigating a transition without a map.

Paradox 3: We are holding the promise and pressure of pluralism.

Our networks are powerful because they are plural. We represent diverse geographies, political identities, strategies, and organizational forms. But that same diversity creates complexity and tension. With so many mandates, priorities, and pressures, it’s easy to fall back into silos or competition. To live up to our pluralism, we must actively invest in solidarity across difference — and rethink how we work together, recognizing our own short fallings and leveraging each other’s strengths, instead of trying to claim them as our own.

Paradox 4: We face a growing need for peace, with a shrinking space to build it.

Even as the world needs more peacebuilders, more networks, and more experiments in peaceful coexistence, funding pressures are pushing us toward consolidation. We are asked to prove our value, eliminate redundancy, and compete for ever-shrinking resources. But our value does not correspond to market logic — it lies in modelling the world we want to build: one of cooperation, care, and complexity.

These paradoxes are not theoretical — they are being intensified by a convergence of systemic crises that are reshaping the world we operate in.

The governance model is collapsing. Around the world, democratic institutions and norms are eroding. Checks and balances — national, regional, and global — are failing to contain the rise of authoritarian regimes. These governments — on both the left and right — bypass law, dismantle rights, shrink civic space, and target dissent. For peacebuilders, this means our ability to convene, speak, and build alternatives is under constant threat. Partnerships with state actors have become ethically fraught and politically dangerous.

The economic system is in crisis. The transnational extractive economy fuels inequality, displaces communities, and accelerates environmental collapse. These forces destabilize societies and deepen conflict. And the international development system — despite its intentions — has often benefited from this model, operating within and profiting from structures that reinforce dependency and exploitation. If we as peacebuilders do not confront the systems that enable this violence, we risk becoming complicit. Traditional technical interventions — such as neutral facilitation, capacity building, or mediation — are no longer sufficient in the face of structural injustice.

The social contract is unraveling. Violence is not only tolerated — it is normalized. The militarization of public life, hate speech, and dehumanization of “the other” are eroding the possibility of dialogue. In a world that is prioritizing defense and preparing for open war, peacebuilders are increasingly viewed with suspicion and/or disdain. Bridge-building has become harder and riskier.

There is a new world order. And all of this is unfolding in a shifting global landscape. Multilateral institutions are severely diminished. War is normalized as a policy tool. Nationalist and isolationist governments are eroding international peace infrastructures. Bilateral aid systems are being dismantled, putting the very survival of local and international peacebuilding organizations at risk. We are losing our allies and our support infrastructures.

So, where do we go from here?

We don’t resolve the paradoxes. We hold them. And in doing so, we root ourselves in five guiding commitments:

1. Recenter legitimacy and power in local realities. Trust is earned in relationships — not through credentials or donor mandates.
2. Embrace political consciousness. We cannot be neutral in the face of systemic injustice. Capitalism, racism, and patriarchy must be named and confronted.
3. Invest in intergenerational and horizontal collaboration. Complex problems require shared leadership and inclusive strategy-making.
4. Redefine impact. Holding space, resisting co-optation, and nurturing relationships are powerful — even if they aren’t quantifiable.
5. Stay rooted in values. Justice, dignity, and solidarity are not luxuries — they are our foundations.

These commitments won’t shield us from the storms ahead. But they will anchor us. Because in this moment, our task is not perfection — it is persistence. To build, not just structures, but the conditions for new ones to emerge. To organize, not despite the contradictions, but through them.