On September 17, 2025, the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) delivered a sobering message to the world: the very foundation of international refugee protection is under unprecedented threat. Marking the 75th anniversary of the 1951 U.N. Refugee Convention—a landmark document that defines who qualifies as a refugee and sets out the responsibilities of countries that shelter them—the agency warned that governments, especially those in the Global North, are increasingly undermining the convention’s principles and, by extension, the lives of millions of displaced people.
Ruvendrini Menikdiwela, assistant high commissioner for protection at UNHCR, didn’t mince words during an online briefing from Geneva. “I am not exaggerating when I say that the institution of the asylum worldwide is under more threat now than it has ever been,” she told reporters, according to the Associated Press. Her warning wasn’t just a matter of rhetoric. It was a direct response to a growing trend: governments suspending or restricting asylum applications, negotiating controversial deals to offload asylum responsibilities to third countries, and, in some cases, outright threatening the existence of the international asylum system itself.
The U.N. Refugee Convention, adopted in the aftermath of World War II, and its 1967 Protocol have long been regarded as bulwarks against the horrors of forced displacement. “Those two pieces of paper have saved millions of lives in the past and will save millions of lives in the future,” Menikdiwela emphasized. Yet, the agency’s latest assessment suggests that the world’s commitment to these historic agreements is faltering at precisely the moment when the need for protection is most acute.
Much of the current anxiety centers on actions taken by countries that have the greatest resources to help. The United States, particularly under the Trump administration, and several European nations have imposed new restrictions on asylum seekers. They’ve also sought bilateral agreements with third countries—often in Africa—to deport migrants or transfer the responsibility for processing asylum claims. “Some of those agreements are actually being concluded even as we speak,” Menikdiwela noted, though she declined to specify which deals were underway.
Greece, for example, has temporarily suspended asylum processing following a surge in arrivals, especially on the island of Crete. Many of those seeking safety there are Sudanese nationals fleeing the brutal civil war that has engulfed their country. The move has left thousands in limbo, unable to access the international protection they desperately need.
While the headlines in wealthier countries often focus on the challenges posed by new arrivals, the reality is that the vast majority of the world’s refugees—about 75% of more than 43 million people—are hosted by low- and middle-income countries. Chad, an East African nation, is a stark example. Despite its limited resources, Chad currently shelters 1.5 million refugees, most of them Sudanese escaping violence and persecution. According to Menikdiwela, the situation in Chad’s refugee camps is dire: “There are people—men, women and children—wandering around with bullet wounds and shrapnel wounds.”
The suffering doesn’t end there. Women and girls in these camps face what Menikdiwela described as “unprecedented levels of sexual violence.” She recounted the harrowing story of an 80-year-old woman who was raped multiple times, a chilling reminder of the vulnerabilities faced by those displaced by conflict. “And yet, despite their dire situation, the refugees who I met wouldn’t be alive if Chad hadn’t respected the refugee convention and allowed them across its borders,” Menikdiwela said.
But Chad’s generosity has come at a steep price. The country’s ability to provide for its refugee population is being stretched to the breaking point, largely due to a global humanitarian funding crisis. More than 122 million people worldwide are currently displaced by war, persecution, or disaster, according to UNHCR figures. Yet, funding for humanitarian programs has not kept pace with the soaring need. In Chad and similar host countries, the agency’s programs are “vastly underfunded and unable to support the urgent needs of the arriving refugees,” Menikdiwela explained.
This funding shortfall has real consequences—not just for those already displaced, but for countries further north as well. Menikdiwela warned that if support isn’t increased, many refugees in Chad will have little choice but to embark on perilous journeys through Libya and eventually to Europe, risking their lives in the process. “Many of the refugees in Chad would continue to move north through Libya and eventually Europe if their needs weren’t met in the East African nation,” she pointed out.
The crisis is compounded by a growing anti-asylum and anti-migration sentiment in many parts of the world. In countries that are best equipped to shoulder the responsibility—those with strong economies and stable governments—public and political support for asylum has waned. This, in turn, has led to policy changes that threaten the very institution of asylum itself. “Asylum is under threat, but it is more under threat in the countries that are more capable of bearing that responsibility than in the countries which are actually hosting the largest number of refugees,” Menikdiwela argued.
The agency also acknowledged that not every asylum claim is legitimate. There are cases, Menikdiwela said, where individuals seek asylum for economic reasons rather than out of fear of persecution. In response, UNHCR has supported the concept of “return hubs”—a euphemism for deportation centers—that are gaining traction in the U.S. and Europe. The idea is controversial, but it reflects the political pressures governments face as they try to balance humanitarian obligations with domestic concerns.
Despite these challenges, UNHCR remains adamant that the international community must not lose sight of its commitments. Menikdiwela called on world leaders to step up donations and support for host countries, warning that the alternative is not just a humanitarian catastrophe, but a fundamental erosion of the principles that have guided the world’s response to refugees for three-quarters of a century.
As the world marks the 75th anniversary of the U.N. Refugee Convention, the question is whether governments will heed this call—or whether the institution of asylum, and the millions who depend on it, will be left to fend for themselves in an increasingly uncertain world.
