Pandora’s box has been opened with the public suggestion by the United States and more quiet comments by some other governments that they are contemplating revising or withdrawing from the 1951 Refugee Convention and/or its 1967 Protocol. Despite the complaints of its critics, the humanitarian protection system created through the Refugee Convention is a remarkable accomplishment. In the seven decades since its ratification, the Convention has saved millions of lives, enshrined in national legal systems and state practice the core principle that people seeking protection cannot be returned to harm (nonrefoulement), and advanced the cause of democratic freedom—providing safety from persecution to refugees escaping Communist Eastern Europe, Christians fleeing theocracy in Iran, and Sudanese pushed out by civil war and ethnic persecution.
But this legal instrument on the cusp of its 75th year is also creaking under the weight of today’s realities. Mass displacement driven by economic collapse, conflict, gang violence, and climate change has taxed humanitarian systems, a situation worsened by the recent cratering of international aid. Meanwhile, asylum systems have become an outlet for the mobility pressures created by demographic change and economic inequality—making it hard to distinguish the deserving from the chancers. And potential asylum seekers often journey through multiple countries on their way to a final destination, raising concerns about the right venue to seek asylum. As a result, national governments have struggled to reconcile their protection responsibilities under the Convention with their domestic responsibilities to maintain security and order, particularly at borders.
It has long been taboo to suggest that the Convention should be reformed, for fear of what would be lost. But calls from states, particularly donor and destination-country ones, to address gaps left by the original text have become more difficult to ignore, particularly as some governments have chosen to openly flout Convention obligations in lieu of advancing reforms. Ignoring questions about the future of the Convention now seems naive at best, harmful at worst. While reform will not be straightforward—international law moves slowly at the best of times—there is a mounting case for debating whether to clarify some elements of the Convention and fill its gaps through the adoption of a new Protocol.
At a fundamental level, the core principles of the Convention—which even some nonsignatory states have come to respect—remain not just relevant to today’s present world but are an indispensable tool for responding to conflict, instability, and gross violations of human dignity and rights. The recognition that individuals and communities could come under threat in their home states due to their political beliefs, race and ethnicity, religion, nationality, or group membership—and that their neighbors have a duty, to the extent consistent with national sovereignty, to provide a place of refuge—cannot be replaced. This remains so even if the framework through which these principles are interpreted and implemented requires updating.
Reforming the international protection system should thus be done with a scalpel, not a chain saw. The best vehicle to accomplish a targeted effort to fix what is not working and reinvigorate the core principles for 21st century challenges is likely to be a second Protocol to the original 1951 Convention. A Protocol could allow for targeted reforms and sidestep the need for (likely lengthy and complex) debate on the core Convention text. Rather, a Protocol would focus on addressing the specific gaps in the system that have clearly emerged over the last nearly 75 years:
Establishing a set of rules around onward movement from first safe countries of asylum.
Agreeing to a mechanism for quickly meeting needs and sharing responsibility in situations of mass displacement.
Improving financial burden-sharing to compensate major hosting states and enable refugee self-sufficiency.
Making these changes is the right thing to do to reduce harm and increase the ability of those genuinely in need to access safety. They also make sense for reducing disorderly onward movements and shrinking the space in which organized crime operates, which has become a major security issue across much of the world, and will boost destination countries’ diplomatic clout.
Why Reform Is on the Agenda
The Refugee Convention and 1967 Protocol left several notable gaps. First, the Convention is silent on access to territory or the right to seek asylum. This means the only way for an asylum seeker to trigger protection is to physically reach a state’s territory or jurisdiction. With few legal routes available, many must turn to smugglers, who profit from their desperation. The Convention is also largely silent on how countries should determine whether an individual is a refugee or what should happen when individuals who are not in need of protection seek asylum.
Finally, and perhaps most critically, while the Convention recognizes that displacement is inherently a transnational issue and that international cooperation to address it is needed, it stops short of stipulating how this should be done or providing a mechanism for doing so. Without a mechanism for responsibility-sharing, most of the world’s displaced people have sought refuge in a small number of low- and middle-income countries, which thus shoulder a disproportionate share of responsibility. Some of these states have struggled (or declined) to provide basic rights for refugees, including legal status and the ability to work or receive an education. While the Global Compact on Refugees sought to address some of these issues, it was nonbinding and has not fully lived up to its own ambitions.
The omission of responsibility-sharing from the Convention also has consequences for high-income destination countries. Some displaced individuals will choose to move on from their first country of arrival, whether because basic food and shelter are lacking (as for Sudanese in Chad), because they lack the right to work legally (as in Iran), or because they wish to reunify with family or pursue better opportunities elsewhere (as for skilled Syrians in Turkey). For states outside the immediate neighborhood of a displacement crisis, this raises thorny legal and political questions about the circumstances under which refugees may leave a first country of safety and seek protection in a second or third country.
There is widespread agreement across the political spectrum in many places that the system could, and should, work better. A well-functioning protection system should prevent dangerous journeys and reduce the space for smugglers to operate, including by offering safe and orderly routes. It should avoid misuse of asylum systems by economic migrants, who instead should join the queue for labor visas or be better connected with livelihoods in their regions of origin. It should reduce irregular onward movement, where people (both with genuine protection claims and without) choose a particular destination instead of staying put in the first safe place they come to. And it should ensure that more of the world’s refugees can access not just safety but also the means to support themselves and their families, so they do not feel driven to move on.
The Case for Legal Changes
Many of these changes could come without revisions to international law. Destination states can already offer more safe pathways or pre-entry asylum processing, which replace chaotic spontaneous arrivals with predictability and control. Hosting states can give refugees more rights. And donor countries can provide more funding. There is space in the existing legal architecture for governments to negotiate regional or bilateral safe third-country agreements that require refugees to seek protection in the first safe state. And nothing is stopping states, technically, from streamlining their domestic asylum procedures and bolstering return systems.
Still, there are three key reasons to consider updating the legal framework:
First, in areas where the Convention is silent or ambiguous, such as the safe third-country concept, clear rules could regulate how states implement changes, ensure those reforms are sound and beneficial, and help shield against legal challenge. Some governments have expressed concern about the vulnerability of asylum policies to litigation, leading some to call for ignoring the courts or existing norms altogether—a clear threat to the rule of law. Legal frameworks that cannot bend will break, and it may ultimately be better to find ways to amend the framework while preserving its core, rather than seeing states walk away from the Convention entirely.
Second, while states could do many changes on their own, they lack the incentives, and the Convention does not include any enforcement mechanisms. While there is quite obviously limited political space at present for new treaty enforcement mechanisms, there may be ways to create trade-offs and incentives that make it in states’ best interests to follow the letter and spirit of the law—whether around obligations to take back their own nationals, providing legal status and work rights to refugees, or stepping up financial responsibility-sharing.
Finally, it is worth acknowledging that many of the challenges to the Convention are political. Publics, particularly in the high-income world, have become skeptical of the added value of international law to address the needs and threats they see around them. Reforming the legal basis for the humanitarian protection system could be a moment to signal that these concerns have been heard, and that governments are working to prioritize fairness and integrity and restore public trust.
The Elements of a Better System
Rather than a whole-scale reform of the Convention itself, the most prudent—and rapid—course would be to introduce a targeted set of changes through an additional Protocol, similar to the procedure used in 1967. This would allow states to focus on a narrow set of issues, rather than renegotiating the entire basis of the system, which would almost certainly be a complex, time-consuming, and risky endeavor. The challenges faced by states—and crucially, refugees themselves—also require a quicker response, and a Protocol process would be likely to move faster than a complete renegotiation.
Ultimately, delicate interstate negotiations would determine the ultimate scope of a Protocol, and states will have their own interests regarding what to bring forward. But three areas are likely ripe for inclusion (among many potential others):
Limiting asylum to situations of immediate harm. Asylum is essential, but it needs to be used in a more limited way, as an escape valve for people at immediate risk of harm and refoulement, who cannot reasonably find safety in their own country, rather than as a tool for selecting a new home. A Protocol could set out the principles and minimum standards under which safe third-country agreements could be established and returns carried out, or make clear that refugees should seek asylum in the first safe country under certain conditions. This then would lay the groundwork for a network of binding regional and bilateral safe third-country agreements that would discourage irregular secondary movements (trading financial support, safe pathways, and operational cooperation for accepting asylum seekers). As part of regional agreements, signatories would then commit to offering other channels, such as humanitarian visas, pre-entry asylum processing, and the use of complementary work or study pathways to share responsibility and to provide a credible alternative to irregular movement—including of refugees seeking to reunite with family and friends in destination countries. Other elements could also be included here, such as greater clarity around conditions for cessation of refugee status for those who no longer have protection needs.
Providing a blueprint for responding to situations of mass displacement. Many displacement situations present unique challenges. They are often driven by a wider set of circumstances, such as generalized violence and state collapse, that are not reflected in the 1951 Convention; they are ill-suited to the use of individual asylum determination; and they have the potential to quickly overwhelm the capacity of neighboring states. A Protocol could set out new rules regarding states’ obligations and the rights of displaced persons in these circumstances (possibly including a new form of temporary status, such as that used by some states in response to displacement from Syria, Venezuela, and Ukraine). It could also establish an emergency coordination mechanism that facilitates the offer of emergency resettlement pathways for onward movement for individuals with serious humanitarian needs or willing sponsors in countries further from the front lines.
Responsibility-sharing through increased financial support, with a focus on results-based conditions that promote refugee self-sufficiency. A Protocol could seek to address the responsibility-sharing gap by creating targets or incentives for non-affected states to step up and provide more financial support to frontline countries (e.g. trading off financial contributions for the implementation of safe third-country arrangements). This has a self-interested dimension for high-income countries: it is much cheaper for donor countries to support refugees closer to where they are displaced. But increased funding also could be tied to specific conditions, namely that host countries provide access to safe legal status, legal identity and documentation, rights to work, and freedom of movement. There could also be space for frontline countries to negotiate on other points in their interest, such as access to pathways for their own nationals, in exchange for more funding or expanding rights they grant refugees.
The Mechanics of Getting There
To date, the loudest calls for reforming the Refugee Convention have come from high-income destination states, including European countries and the United States. But binding international agreements are of little use if only a handful of the affected parties sign up. If these states are serious about reforming the system in workable ways, they will need to listen to and incorporate the concerns of the rest of the world. These are likely to differ considerably from the priorities of high-income destination countries. Coming to an agreement will thus require navigating trade-offs and a good deal of grown-up diplomacy.
A first step would be to conduct consultations with a geographically diverse set of states on whether a new Protocol should be negotiated and, if so, what its scope should be. In the leadup to the 1967 Protocol, this process was launched with an expert report tabled for discussion at the UN High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) executive committee (ExCom). UNHCR then conducted bilateral consultations with states around receptivity to certain provisions and potential political and technical sensitivities. This resulted in a targeted proposal that had broad endorsement and was adopted just 21 months after the process began. It may not be possible to fully replicate this process—not the least because of how divisive this set of issues is. But there would be clear value in scoping a core set of ideas before launching a formal negotiation and ensuring the process itself is well steered. Such an undertaking could be a huge win for the new High Commissioner, as yet unselected but due to take office in January 2026.
This is not to say that such a process would be easy. Multilateralism is notably floundering, and international cooperation has become increasingly transactional—admittedly not a conducive environment for difficult negotiations. And with international organizations under pressure from dramatic budget cuts, the place where the value of legal frameworks stands or falls—implementation—could be tricky. Yet attempting to push under the rug the political and practical challenges facing the humanitarian regime, including the different challenges and interests of refugee-hosting countries in various economic brackets—has also not played out well.
A Protocol is not a silver bullet, but it could help bridge the gap between a creaky-though-still-essential 20th century framework and pressing 21st century realities. It could provide the careful adjustments needed to preserve what works, repair what does not, and restore public trust in a system that has saved millions of lives. It would also be an important win for cooperation between high-, middle-, and lower-income countries that could give the humanitarian regime a fresh start.
The Refugee Convention’s core principles remain indispensable; the task now is to adapt their application to modern realities without undermining their moral force.
Mending, Not Ending, the Refugee Convention Could Save the Protection System and Restore Public Trust
Pandora’s box has been opened with the public suggestion by the United States and more quiet comments by some other governments that they are contemplating revising or withdrawing from the 1951 Refugee Convention and/or its 1967 Protocol. Despite the complaints of its critics, the humanitarian protection system created through the Refugee Convention is a remarkable accomplishment. In the seven decades since its ratification, the Convention has saved millions of lives, enshrined in national legal systems and state practice the core principle that people seeking protection cannot be returned to harm (nonrefoulement), and advanced the cause of democratic freedom—providing safety from persecution to refugees escaping Communist Eastern Europe, Christians fleeing theocracy in Iran, and Sudanese pushed out by civil war and ethnic persecution.
But this legal instrument on the cusp of its 75th year is also creaking under the weight of today’s realities. Mass displacement driven by economic collapse, conflict, gang violence, and climate change has taxed humanitarian systems, a situation worsened by the recent cratering of international aid. Meanwhile, asylum systems have become an outlet for the mobility pressures created by demographic change and economic inequality—making it hard to distinguish the deserving from the chancers. And potential asylum seekers often journey through multiple countries on their way to a final destination, raising concerns about the right venue to seek asylum. As a result, national governments have struggled to reconcile their protection responsibilities under the Convention with their domestic responsibilities to maintain security and order, particularly at borders.
It has long been taboo to suggest that the Convention should be reformed, for fear of what would be lost. But calls from states, particularly donor and destination-country ones, to address gaps left by the original text have become more difficult to ignore, particularly as some governments have chosen to openly flout Convention obligations in lieu of advancing reforms. Ignoring questions about the future of the Convention now seems naive at best, harmful at worst. While reform will not be straightforward—international law moves slowly at the best of times—there is a mounting case for debating whether to clarify some elements of the Convention and fill its gaps through the adoption of a new Protocol.
At a fundamental level, the core principles of the Convention—which even some nonsignatory states have come to respect—remain not just relevant to today’s present world but are an indispensable tool for responding to conflict, instability, and gross violations of human dignity and rights. The recognition that individuals and communities could come under threat in their home states due to their political beliefs, race and ethnicity, religion, nationality, or group membership—and that their neighbors have a duty, to the extent consistent with national sovereignty, to provide a place of refuge—cannot be replaced. This remains so even if the framework through which these principles are interpreted and implemented requires updating.
Reforming the international protection system should thus be done with a scalpel, not a chain saw. The best vehicle to accomplish a targeted effort to fix what is not working and reinvigorate the core principles for 21st century challenges is likely to be a second Protocol to the original 1951 Convention. A Protocol could allow for targeted reforms and sidestep the need for (likely lengthy and complex) debate on the core Convention text. Rather, a Protocol would focus on addressing the specific gaps in the system that have clearly emerged over the last nearly 75 years:
Making these changes is the right thing to do to reduce harm and increase the ability of those genuinely in need to access safety. They also make sense for reducing disorderly onward movements and shrinking the space in which organized crime operates, which has become a major security issue across much of the world, and will boost destination countries’ diplomatic clout.
Why Reform Is on the Agenda
The Refugee Convention and 1967 Protocol left several notable gaps. First, the Convention is silent on access to territory or the right to seek asylum. This means the only way for an asylum seeker to trigger protection is to physically reach a state’s territory or jurisdiction. With few legal routes available, many must turn to smugglers, who profit from their desperation. The Convention is also largely silent on how countries should determine whether an individual is a refugee or what should happen when individuals who are not in need of protection seek asylum.
Finally, and perhaps most critically, while the Convention recognizes that displacement is inherently a transnational issue and that international cooperation to address it is needed, it stops short of stipulating how this should be done or providing a mechanism for doing so. Without a mechanism for responsibility-sharing, most of the world’s displaced people have sought refuge in a small number of low- and middle-income countries, which thus shoulder a disproportionate share of responsibility. Some of these states have struggled (or declined) to provide basic rights for refugees, including legal status and the ability to work or receive an education. While the Global Compact on Refugees sought to address some of these issues, it was nonbinding and has not fully lived up to its own ambitions.
The omission of responsibility-sharing from the Convention also has consequences for high-income destination countries. Some displaced individuals will choose to move on from their first country of arrival, whether because basic food and shelter are lacking (as for Sudanese in Chad), because they lack the right to work legally (as in Iran), or because they wish to reunify with family or pursue better opportunities elsewhere (as for skilled Syrians in Turkey). For states outside the immediate neighborhood of a displacement crisis, this raises thorny legal and political questions about the circumstances under which refugees may leave a first country of safety and seek protection in a second or third country.
There is widespread agreement across the political spectrum in many places that the system could, and should, work better. A well-functioning protection system should prevent dangerous journeys and reduce the space for smugglers to operate, including by offering safe and orderly routes. It should avoid misuse of asylum systems by economic migrants, who instead should join the queue for labor visas or be better connected with livelihoods in their regions of origin. It should reduce irregular onward movement, where people (both with genuine protection claims and without) choose a particular destination instead of staying put in the first safe place they come to. And it should ensure that more of the world’s refugees can access not just safety but also the means to support themselves and their families, so they do not feel driven to move on.
The Case for Legal Changes
Many of these changes could come without revisions to international law. Destination states can already offer more safe pathways or pre-entry asylum processing, which replace chaotic spontaneous arrivals with predictability and control. Hosting states can give refugees more rights. And donor countries can provide more funding. There is space in the existing legal architecture for governments to negotiate regional or bilateral safe third-country agreements that require refugees to seek protection in the first safe state. And nothing is stopping states, technically, from streamlining their domestic asylum procedures and bolstering return systems.
Still, there are three key reasons to consider updating the legal framework:
The Elements of a Better System
Rather than a whole-scale reform of the Convention itself, the most prudent—and rapid—course would be to introduce a targeted set of changes through an additional Protocol, similar to the procedure used in 1967. This would allow states to focus on a narrow set of issues, rather than renegotiating the entire basis of the system, which would almost certainly be a complex, time-consuming, and risky endeavor. The challenges faced by states—and crucially, refugees themselves—also require a quicker response, and a Protocol process would be likely to move faster than a complete renegotiation.
Ultimately, delicate interstate negotiations would determine the ultimate scope of a Protocol, and states will have their own interests regarding what to bring forward. But three areas are likely ripe for inclusion (among many potential others):
The Mechanics of Getting There
To date, the loudest calls for reforming the Refugee Convention have come from high-income destination states, including European countries and the United States. But binding international agreements are of little use if only a handful of the affected parties sign up. If these states are serious about reforming the system in workable ways, they will need to listen to and incorporate the concerns of the rest of the world. These are likely to differ considerably from the priorities of high-income destination countries. Coming to an agreement will thus require navigating trade-offs and a good deal of grown-up diplomacy.
A first step would be to conduct consultations with a geographically diverse set of states on whether a new Protocol should be negotiated and, if so, what its scope should be. In the leadup to the 1967 Protocol, this process was launched with an expert report tabled for discussion at the UN High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) executive committee (ExCom). UNHCR then conducted bilateral consultations with states around receptivity to certain provisions and potential political and technical sensitivities. This resulted in a targeted proposal that had broad endorsement and was adopted just 21 months after the process began. It may not be possible to fully replicate this process—not the least because of how divisive this set of issues is. But there would be clear value in scoping a core set of ideas before launching a formal negotiation and ensuring the process itself is well steered. Such an undertaking could be a huge win for the new High Commissioner, as yet unselected but due to take office in January 2026.
This is not to say that such a process would be easy. Multilateralism is notably floundering, and international cooperation has become increasingly transactional—admittedly not a conducive environment for difficult negotiations. And with international organizations under pressure from dramatic budget cuts, the place where the value of legal frameworks stands or falls—implementation—could be tricky. Yet attempting to push under the rug the political and practical challenges facing the humanitarian regime, including the different challenges and interests of refugee-hosting countries in various economic brackets—has also not played out well.
A Protocol is not a silver bullet, but it could help bridge the gap between a creaky-though-still-essential 20th century framework and pressing 21st century realities. It could provide the careful adjustments needed to preserve what works, repair what does not, and restore public trust in a system that has saved millions of lives. It would also be an important win for cooperation between high-, middle-, and lower-income countries that could give the humanitarian regime a fresh start.
The Refugee Convention’s core principles remain indispensable; the task now is to adapt their application to modern realities without undermining their moral force.
All MPI humanitarian protection work
Refugee and Forced Displacement Initiative