When Geopolitics Knocks on the School Door: The Domino Effect of the US Exit

Martinho Cumbane"

First Part

Founded in 1945, UNESCO's mission is to promote peace through knowledge, culture, and science, following the principles of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Its work is especially relevant in regions with structural deficiencies, where it provides services ranging from teacher training to the protection of threatened cultural heritage sites. In recent years, however, the organization has been the target of criticism from the United States, primarily for its stance on Palestine and for allegedly adopting a progressive vision that conflicts with American foreign policy. Despite this, as Director-General Audrey Azoulay pointed out, UNESCO is now stronger financially, with voluntary contributions doubling since 2018.

The United States' decision to abandon UNESCO for the second time in less than five years is not just another diplomatic maneuver. It is a direct blow to the projects that keep hope alive in some of Mozambique's most vulnerable communities. While speeches in Washington speak of "national interests" and "pragmatic foreign policy," in Cabo Delgado, UNESCO-trained teachers are trying to rebuild the future of children who lost everything to terrorism. In Inhambane, women who learned to write their own names at age 50 can now read prescriptions and help their children with school. On the Island of Mozambique, master carpenters fight against time and erosion to preserve centuries of history. All of this is now at risk.

The problem isn't just financial, although the US withdrawal represents a significant cut to the organization's budget. The real damage is the leadership vacuum created when a global power gives up on positively influencing multilateral institutions. UNESCO isn't perfect, but it's the only global platform that places education, culture, and science at the center of peacebuilding. While the US withdraws, other global actors like China and Russia are advancing their own vision of international cooperation, often more interested in extracting resources and political influence than in empowering local communities.

In Mozambique, the effects are already visible. The teacher training program in conflict zones, essential to ensuring that an entire generation in Cabo Delgado does not grow up without education, depends directly on international funding. Adult literacy circles, which have transformed the lives of thousands of rural women, require resources to expand. The preservation of cultural heritage, which sustains not only collective memory but also local tourism, requires continuous investment. Without a strengthened UNESCO, these projects will lose momentum.

Just when Mozambique most needs global solidarity in confronting climate crises, terrorism, and deep inequalities, the developed world seems increasingly inward-looking. The US is abandoning UNESCO, citing "political bias," but what policy is nobler than ensuring that a child in Mocímboa da Praia has the right to learn? That a woman in Gaza can sign her own name? That the Island of Mozambique doesn't disappear beneath the waves?

In the end, the question that remains is not about diplomacy, but about humanity. When great powers treat organizations like UNESCO as disposable pieces in their power struggle, those who suffer are those already living on the margins: the poor, the forgotten, those who depend on every scrap of international cooperation for a chance at dignity. Mozambique deserves more than scraps. It deserves a world where education and culture are not bargaining chips, but non-negotiable foundations of peace. Continued next week

2025/12/3