

We’ve long known about sexual atrocities committed by UN peacekeeping forces—which often go unpunished. But a new investigation by The Cut exposes a toxic culture of sexual abuse within the institution—where powerful officials are let off the hook by a system that protects its own.
We’ve long known that UN peacekeeping forces have been involved in horrific cases of sexual assault and exploitation—and have largely escaped any consequences. The reason: The home countries who send these forces are unwilling to take action. The New Humanitarian lays out a chilling 25-year timeline of the innumerable incidents of violence, dating back to sex trafficking in the Balkans in the 1990s. The most recent: serious sexual abuse claims in Gabon—due to which the UN has been forced to withdraw its troops.
But recent developments show that the violence against women is an institutional problem—and endemic within the UN’s own culture.
In December, Purna Sen—appointed at UN Women in 2018 to address harassment, assault and discrimination—resigned after she was told her role would not be renewed. After quitting, Sen said:
"The system lacks independence and there is a real problem with accounts being taken seriously. Managers are instructed to start with the presumption of innocence but this has translated to a starting position of distrust of those making complaints… When victims make disclosures they are often unjustly treated and there is too much onus on protecting those in power.”
This week, The Cut published an in-depth investigation into UN’s sexual harassment problem—based on accounts of 43 workers: “Eighteen reported experiencing violence that the UN would classify as a sexual assault. Eight said they were raped, including two who said they had been raped more than once.”
It is worth noting who the victims are:
“UN workers described being sexually harassed or assaulted at a workshop on emergency management in Norway, during an internship in Spain, on missions in Ethiopia and Somalia, and in the UN-headquarter cities of Vienna, Nairobi, Geneva, and New York. The victims of harassment and assault, the vast majority of whom were women with precarious employment status, included an administrative assistant in Pakistan and a legal intern in Cambodia.”
Also noteworthy: the official roles of many of their alleged abusers:
“They identified the alleged perpetrators as UN workers investigating human-rights violations in Syria, expanding women’s access to reproductive health care in South Sudan, negotiating the Paris climate agreement, and building cases against war criminals at the Hague. They named security officers, spokespeople, hiring managers, and human-rights lawyers.”
Point to note: The Guardian did a similar investigation back in 2018—based on accounts of dozens of workers. Of those interviewed, 15 said they had experienced or reported sexual harassment or assault within the past five years. Only seven of them had filed a complaint. Three of them were forced out of their jobs or threatened with the termination of their contract—while the alleged abusers remained in their positions.
The UN’s institutional processes and culture are virtually designed to protect sexual abusers.
Institutional indifference: The UN is big on making statements about tackling sexual harassment—but devotes very few resources to doing so. The Office of Internal Oversight Services only has nine investigators for all sexual assault claims. And the system is so convoluted that it is almost designed to avoid taking action:
“The internal justice system answers to the General Assembly, which appoints the secretary-general, who does not have authority over the goings-on at UN agencies, some of which avail themselves of the International Labour Organization for settling disputes, while others use the dispute and appeals tribunals, which in turn draw on findings from the Office of Internal Oversight Services, which can only investigate—not sanction—employees accused of misconduct.”
There has been no serious attempt at reform. And as in the case of Sen’s exit, any new position created to tackle the problem soon disappears.
Protecting the powerful: What is most shocking is an internal culture that unabashedly protects the abusers. Investigations are sloppy or worse, rigged. In cases uncovered by The Guardian, investigators failed to interview key witnesses and included transcripts with errors. One former investigator says: “As an investigator I was told I should ‘never ask questions just to satisfy my curiosity.’ The only rule is not to publicly embarrass the organisation.” In one case, the person accused was allowed to interview the woman who filed the complaint against him. And in multiple cases, the ombudsman who received the complaint even told the victim he was helpless to act against powerful officials.
The ‘never guilty’ standard: But the most egregious is the lack of any criteria to establish guilt—which is why most of the cases are thrown out due to “insufficient evidence.” As The Cut notes:
“Some UN agencies abide by the standard of ‘beyond a reasonable doubt,’ while others have a lighter burden of proof: that of providing ‘clear and convincing evidence.’ The system has been criticized as unfair by alleged perpetrators as well: In the words of one staffer, who was accused of sexual assault and denied the allegation, ‘The UN’s system has no clear standards for adjudicating guilt or innocence.’”
Women complain that investigators never clearly explained to them the standards of proof or why, exactly, their claims were rejected. And they were never allowed to access details of the investigation into their complaint.
Point to note: For decades, the UN has behaved like the Catholic Church—often moving the accused around to avoid scandal: “If someone was a bad egg, you offered them up to another division or promoted him… There is no real penalty for committing sexual harassment.”
The all-powerful provider: Women who work at the UN have little recourse to outside help. They have no access to the local courts in the country they serve—and far away from the legal system back home. Hence, they are entirely at the mercy of the UN’s internal system. As one lawyer points out:
“The state owes you health care, education, legal protection, and other things. When we work for the UN, the UN takes over those responsibilities. We become global citizens. We become citizens of the UN.”
UN employees often rely on the organisation not only for employment, but for working visas and other UN benefits, such as school fees. And pointing fingers at the system that is your sole provider can be hazardous: “If you report it, your career is pretty much over, especially if you’re a consultant. It’s like an unsaid thing.” The position of women who are local or contract hires is even more precarious.
The bottomline: Survivors of sexual violence have to fight a long and difficult battle for justice—be it in courts or inside companies. But it is almost impossible in an organisation that has no borders, government and, therefore, no accountability. As one lawyer says bluntly: “The UN is its own judge. You can’t be the judge in your own case. That is a fundamental aspect of any developed legal system. The UN doesn’t abide by that.”
The two must-reads on this are the investigations by The Cut and The Guardian. Also in The Guardian: a good interview with Sen on her exit from the UN. Worth a look: The New Humanitarian timeline of sexual abuses committed by UN troops.
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