Guillaume Gouffier Valente: Defending Feminist Diplomacy in a World in Retreat

You chair the European Parliamentary Forum for Sexual & Reproductive Rights, which recently published La Nouvelle Vague, a study revealing that over one billion dollars have been invested in Europe to support movements opposed to women’s rights. How do you analyse the structuring of these networks in France? What concrete forms do their actions take, and what are the signs—visible or more diffuse—today that should alert us?

Even before the symbolic threshold of one billion dollars, the main lesson of the La Nouvelle Vague report lies in the progressive structuring of these movements and in their profound transformation. Emerging in the 1970s in the United States around the contestation of abortion rights, they consolidated during the 1990s by opposing sexual and reproductive‑health rights, before broadening their struggle to the fight against same‑sex marriage. Their ecosystem is heterogeneous: often faith‑based associations—linked in particular to conservative currents within Christianity or Islam—foundations, companies, think tanks, and, more recently, political parties.

The true rupture, however, occurred over the past decade. Long fragmented, these actors have drawn closer strategically, particularly during Donald Trump’s first term, then amplifying this trend during the Covid‑19 pandemic. Carried by the spread of conspiracy theories, intensive use of social networks, and growing distrust towards the rule of law, they now constitute a structured, transnational political movement. Since Trump’s return to power, this dynamic has accelerated further, including in France.

The 165.7 million euros identified in our country are no accident. France is one of the states most deeply engaged in defending women’s rights and sexual and reproductive rights—going so far as to enshrine abortion in the Constitution, with the support of around 80% of the population. As such, it has become a strategic target for these networks, which seek to undermine this model.

In concrete terms, these funds irrigate a wide range of organisations: foundations, associations, research centres, but also training programmes for future political leaders, often rooted in ultra‑conservative Catholicism. They also rely on powerful media relay actors. The first objective is to infuse their ideas into the public debate. When a 24/7 news channel presents abortion from a biased or alarmist angle, and in one instance a presenter described abortion as “the leading cause of death worldwide,” with “73 million deaths in 2022, or 52% of all deaths,” this is not simply an individual slip but the symptom of an ideological battle already underway within certain newsrooms.

In a second stage, these networks support structures that directly challenge access to rights, information and education. Programmes on affective, relational and sexual education (EVARS) have thus become a prime target. Collectives such as Parents Vigilants spread misleading information to elected officials in order to challenge the legitimacy of these programmes and to slow down their implementation.

Finally, the objective is clearly political: to infiltrate the centres of power. If these ideas find an echo on the far right, they are also gaining ground within a conservative right tempted by a “union of the right.” It was precisely to anticipate such developments that France constitutionalised abortion: a move that is both symbolic and protective, designed to guarantee this right regardless of political alternations.

More recently, the report of the High Council for Equality has sounded an additional alarm bell. Social media play a central role in spreading increasingly unapologetic masculinist discourse, particularly aimed at young men. State services already identify this dynamic as both serious and diffuse.

That said, this assessment must not obscure another reality: a youth increasingly mobilised in favour of equality. This engagement is full of hope, provided it is given the means to express itself and to act.

In the face of the rise of masculinism, it is now urgent for the State to put in place an ambitious multi‑annual national plan. This is a priority that is both political and democratic.

You were the rapporteur of the parliamentary report Renforcer la diplomatie féministe face au risque de backlash global (“Strengthening Feminist Diplomacy in the Face of the Risk of Global Backlash”), which rests on four pillars for countering the challenges to women’s rights. In an increasingly tense international context, what levers of action do you consider most effective for countering these dynamics? And what specific role can France play?

The report I co‑wrote with Marie‑Noëlle Battistel is built around four levers of action, which together sketch out a strategy for responding to the global backlash against women’s rights.

The first lever is political speech. It must be clear, constant and resolute. In all forums—national, European, multilateral—France and its partners must unambiguously promote gender equality, the fight against sexual and gender‑based violence, and access to sexual and reproductive rights and health. This struggle can no longer be peripheral: it must sit at the heart of our diplomacy.

The second, central lever is financing. We deliberately placed this at the top of the operational priorities, because it underpins everything else. On the other side, anti‑rights movements have considerable, well‑structured resources. To respond, we must guarantee stable public funding, embedded over time, but also mobilise private actors more effectively. Existing tools, such as the Fund Supporting Feminist Organisations (FSOF), must be consolidated and secured before they are expanded, in particular in view of major international milestones such as the G7.

The third axis rests on alliances. No effective response can be purely national. It is essential to strengthen coalitions between associations, parliamentarians, companies and States. The interministerial conference on feminist foreign policies, held in Paris in October 2025, marked an important step, with a joint political declaration signed by around thirty countries. The next edition, in Madrid, continues this dynamic and demonstrates a clear will to structure a united front.

Finally, the fourth lever concerns our own internal coherence. Feminist diplomacy can only be credible if it permeates the entire state apparatus. This entails training civil servants, disseminating a culture of equality across all relevant ministries, and safeguarding strategic positions, such as that of the Ambassador for Feminist Diplomacy. Leaving such a post vacant, especially at the end of a term, would send a particularly worrying signal of disengagement.

In this context, France’s role is both expected and closely scrutinised. In an increasingly fragmented world, where authoritarian regimes contest the very principles of multilateralism, France has a responsibility—by virtue of its membership of the Security Council—to provide strong political leadership. But this leadership cannot be merely declarative.

And it is here that a major vulnerability lies today. In recent years, France has significantly reduced certain crucial contributions, in particular to the Global Fund and to humanitarian aid. This gap between discourse and resources weakens our credibility. As an interlocutor confided to me at the One Health Summit in Lyon: “Americans sometimes have the wrong discourse, but they deliver the funding; Europeans have the right discourse, but not the resources.” In reality, it is always the funding that ultimately carries weight.

If France wishes to continue to play a driving role, it must therefore align its political ambitions with its budgetary commitments. Only then will it truly weigh in the international balance of power.

You took part in the 70th session of the Commission on the Status of Women, in March 2026 in New York, marked by an unprecedented break in the consensus around the final text, notably on sexual and reproductive rights and the concept of gender. What exactly played out in those negotiations? And what does this episode reveal about the growing politicisation of women’s rights in international fora?

This was, very clearly, a turning point—almost a moment of truth for the international community.

First, one must understand that the United States have made a strategic return within the Commission. They were absent last year; this time, they chose to sit, thanks to Argentina’s withdrawal in their favour. Their objective was clear: break the consensus and openly assert an offensive ideological line. They succeeded, drawing several states into abstention—including Francophone countries such as the Democratic Republic of the Congo and Côte d’Ivoire, whose positions sometimes surprised European diplomacy at the moment of the vote.

Shortly afterwards, Washington tabled a resolution seeking to unravel the achievements of major international conferences, in particular the Beijing and Cairo conferences. The text was rejected, but this is only a tactical defeat; it will be resubmitted at the next UN General Assembly. The strategy is clear—to politicise women’s rights in order to weaken them more effectively. The discourse promoted by Donald Trump and his allies rests on an inverted logic: according to them, equality has already been achieved, and contemporary feminist struggles now pose a threat to men’s rights.

What happened in New York therefore goes far beyond a one‑off disagreement. It reveals a profound transformation: the entry into a systematic balance‑of‑power logic within international fora themselves. In the medium term, the US objective appears to be to block the adoption of any joint conclusions—a scenario already under way in other UN bodies, such as the Commission on Population and Development. The method is gradual: multiplying abstentions, cracking alliances, and then tipping some states over into outright opposition.

Another signal, more subtle but equally worrying, concerns access to these negotiation spaces themselves. Many feminist activists and LGBTQIA+ activists are now being denied visas, or required to post high bonds in order to enter the United States. At the same time, anti‑rights movements are gaining in visibility and influence within the Commission. Some organisations, including European ones, now participate in side events organised with conservative American think tanks such as the Heritage Foundation.

In the face of these tensions, a question previously considered unthinkable is emerging: that of relocating the Commission. The hypothesis of Nairobi, Kenya, is now seriously being considered, all the more so as several UN agencies are already based there. Such a move would also help rebalance access to these spaces, facilitating the participation of activists from the Global South, who are currently particularly disadvantaged.

In essence, this episode confirms an increasingly overt and accepted politicisation of women’s rights in international arenas. What was once a common ground has now become a distinct ideological battleground. And it is precisely this that makes it a central issue for upcoming geopolitical balances.

In France, despite a relatively advanced legal framework, many associations and field actors highlight a persistent gap between formal rights and their actual implementation, particularly in the areas of violence or access to services. How do you explain this discrepancy? Is this primarily a question of resources, of the implementation of public policies, or of a deeper transformation of social norms?

The gap is real, and it stems from several factors that accumulate rather than oppose one another.

There is first and foremost a question of resources—undeniable. Grassroots associations see their workload constantly increase because needs are exploding. Violence against women and children, in particular, remain a true scourge that persists across all territories and throughout our society. Yet the State relies heavily on these associations to deliver what is, in effect, a public‑service mission: supporting women victims of violence, ensuring access to rights, fighting inequalities, and maintaining a presence in neglected areas. At the same time, these organisations must contend with growing pressure, including from anti‑rights movements.

Under these conditions, it is essential to grant them visibility and stability: this requires funding at an adequate level, but also multi‑year agreements and administrative frameworks that support their work rather than constraining it.

But the issue is not limited to resources. It is also organisational. We need to improve the efficiency of the associative fabric, for example by facilitating the pooling of certain functions at the regional level and by supporting these structures in their digital transition. Digital tools—including artificial intelligence—can be powerful levers for easing day‑to‑day management and allowing teams to refocus on their core mission, provided their independence and security are preserved.

Another key issue is the diversification of funding. Cooperation between public and private actors must be fully assumed. This is neither taboo nor a threat as long as the independence of associations is guaranteed. On the contrary, it is a condition for consolidating their business model and amplifying their impact over the long term. This is in fact one of the structuring axes of our thinking on coalitions. We must also ensure legal security for associations and their activities. We will in particular have to carefully assess the negative consequences of the new contract d’engagement républicain that have repeatedly been reported to me.

Finally, this gap also reveals a deeper problem: the concrete implementation of public policies. Too often, the time between a political announcement and the reality on the ground stretches out—sometimes to the point of draining the measure of its substance.

The example of free access to reusable menstrual products for under‑25s is particularly telling in this regard. The measure was announced by Élisabeth Borne, passed by Parliament, but three years later the implementing decree has still not been published. The result: economic initiatives weakened, such as a Breton company that had invested in anticipation, and, above all, undignified situations that persist. In some schools in Côtes‑d’Armor, young girls continue to use makeshift solutions—paper or even slices of bread—because they lack access to appropriate protection.

This case illustrates a broader reality: women’s rights are not so much lacking on paper as they are failing to be translated into practice. As long as their implementation remains hostage to budgetary or administrative trade‑offs, this gap will endure. And these are not secondary measures: they are matters of health, dignity and emancipation.

The Delegation for Women’s Rights at the National Assembly plays a role of evaluation and proposal, but remains little known. What is its role and power in shaping the law today? And more broadly, in what blind spots of public policies on women’s rights should the Parliament prioritise its action in the coming years?

The Delegation for Women’s Rights at the National Assembly plays a central role. Its strength lies in its profoundly transversal nature: it brings together parliamentarians from all committees and all political groups, enabling it to address women’s rights in all their complexity—from feminist diplomacy and access to abortion, to professional equality, the realities of rural life and even sport. It is precisely this holistic approach that gives it its value. I have always advocated for a similar interministerial structure within the government: women’s rights are not a sectoral issue; they permeate all public policies.

But this ambition runs up against very concrete limits. Resources remain insufficient, whether in terms of human capital, expert capacity or even the material conditions of work. The contrast is striking between the scale of the challenges and the modesty of the means allocated. A necessary evolution would be to strengthen the institutional weight of the Delegation, giving its opinions a status comparable to those of the standing committees—without, however, turning it into a full‑fledged committee, which would risk losing what makes it unique: its transversality.

As for public policies, several blind spots now call for a mobilisation of Parliament’s attention.

The first concerns feminist diplomacy. The work undertaken in recent years must become durable, beyond political cycles. The aim is clear: to avoid making these policies dependent on alternations and to establish them as a structuring pillar of France’s external action.

The second area is professional equality. The upcoming transposition of the EU directive on pay transparency opens a window of opportunity. But we must go further than existing tools, such as the Pénicaud index, by developing more precise and more demanding indicators. The goal is not simply to correct gaps, but to demonstrate that parity in decision‑making bodies genuinely improves the quality of decisions.

A third priority: the fight against sexual and gender‑based violence. Despite progress, the level remains alarming. It is now time to jump to a new level with an ambitious framework law, capable of articulating prevention, protection and sanctions, while integrating recent mutations, particularly the rise of masculine‑oriented discourse and masculinist violence. In this regard, the Spanish example of the Pacto de Estado against gender‑based violence—which has helped safeguard this struggle beyond political alternations—deserves close attention.

Finally, health remains a major blind spot. Inequalities between women and men persist, both in research and in prevention or access to care. This affects not only sexual and reproductive health, but also the overall management of diseases, still too often based on male standards.

In short, the struggle for women’s rights in France is far from complete. But it is a structuring struggle that affects the very quality of our democracy. And it is precisely for this reason that it must remain a political priority, collectively carried and sustained over time.