Links between water and conflict seem to crop up everywhere one looks these days. The Horn of Africa will soon face a sixth consecutive failed rainy season in 2023—its worst drought on record. Not only is this drought a consequence of global climate change, but it has also led to widespread food shortages and local civil conflicts. And over the past year in Ukraine, Russian troops have directly damaged that nation’s already vulnerable water systems, including pipelines, pumping stations, and treatment facilities. These repeated attacks on water infrastructure have not only undermined local livelihoods in Ukraine, but they have also polluted surface waters and threatened biodiversity.

In recent decades, the international system has undergone profound changes—especially in terms of the types of threats that destabilize international peace and security. As new threats emerge, a focus on new dimensions of the concept of security is now reaching the top of the international agenda. In this context, the global freshwater crisis is beginning to be perceived as an existential threat to states requiring extraordinary measures to alleviate or solve the problem.

Waters that cross international political borders can drive the countries that share them to conflict—or encourage cooperation between them. Indeed, since the 1940s, overall trends point to a tendency for countries to cooperate over shared water resources, which stands in stark contrast to media portrayals of “water wars.”

Yet instances of conflict over water have increased slightly since 2000. Why? Most of them are fueled by water quantity disputes or the unilateral development of dams or other infrastructure. Institutions often play a key role in facilitating cooperation (and reducing conflict) over shared waters, but their growth and adoption have slowed over the last two to three decades.

The Horn of Africa now faces an unprecedented drought, with conditions not seen in the last 40 years. The implications of this looming catastrophe reach beyond the most recent severe drought periods in the region, which occurred in 2010 and 2011 and again in 2016 and 2017.

As of November 2022, over 36 million people in the Horn were affected by drought, including 24.1 million in Ethiopia, 7.8 million in Somalia, and 4.2 million in Kenya. More than 20 million children in Djibouti, Ethiopia, Kenya, and Somalia need immediate water and food assistance. In addition, nearly 1 million pregnant and lactating women are acutely malnourished. Since mid-2021, more than 9.5 million livestock have perished in the region due to a lack of water, starvation, and disease.

Global demand for copper has climbed dramatically in recent years, a trend that is likely to continue apace. Peru is the world’s second largest producer of copper. Yet the clamor for copper is an opportunity that the nation is unable to seize upon at present. Peru is now undergoing severe political upheaval and protests that have brought new attention to the underlying risks in extractive industries and supply chains. Production cuts stemming from protests and blockades could amount to 3 percent of global copper output.

One can see—and feel—tides shifting significantly on numerous fronts across the globe, especially in the area of climate security. Opportunities and challenges abound—especially for urban communities.

But are those who shape and carry out U.S. foreign policy ready for these extraordinary changes? And how can the growing movement to integrate diversity, equity, inclusion, and accessibility (DEIA) become vital in U.S. foreign affairs?

On July 28, 2022 the United Nations General Assembly (UNGA) voted—by a count of 161 in favor, with 8 abstentions — that living in a clean, healthy, and sustainable environment is a human right. Building on the similar declaration by the UN Human Rights Council in October 2021, the UNGA has now reinforced the notion that the growing assaults on human health through environmental hazards are transgressions against the basic rights and freedoms of people.