Climate change is a risk multiplier in weak states
A diplomat who spent five years translating Israel's desert-born ingenuity into a global climate language now carries that work southward, trading one frontier for another. Gideon Behar, departing as Israel's special climate envoy, arrives in East Africa as ambassador, bringing with him a conviction that technologies forged from scarcity — drip irrigation, desalination, circular water systems — are not merely national achievements but answers to questions the whole world is only beginning to ask. His transition reflects a broader truth: that the most durable environmental diplomacy is not conducted in conference halls alone, but in the soil, the solar field, and the slow work of building trust across borders.
- The Middle East and North Africa are enduring the worst droughts in recorded history, and the window for regional climate cooperation is narrowing as geopolitical tensions freeze collaborative projects.
- A promising trilateral energy-and-water deal between Israel, Jordan, and the UAE — solar power exchanged for desalinated water — sits suspended, a casualty of the same conflicts that climate change is likely to worsen.
- Behar does not shy from Israel's own shortcomings: the State Comptroller and the OECD have both criticized the country's pace on emissions reduction, and he concedes more ambition is needed.
- Yet Israel's circular water economy — recycling ninety percent of treated water back into agriculture — and its renewable energy start-ups represent survival strategies that arid regions worldwide are desperate to adopt.
- Now ambassador to five East African nations, Behar is learning Swahili and preparing to open doors for Israeli civil society and development cooperation, treating the posting as climate diplomacy by another name.
Gideon Behar did not arrive at climate diplomacy by accident. As a child he collected litter on school trips and grew vegetables outside his apartment building. The deeper turn came during his ambassadorship to Senegal, where he led a drip irrigation project and watched desertification consume the landscape. At fifty, he asked himself what he still wanted to give the world. The answer was climate change. He proposed the role of special envoy to Israel's Foreign Ministry, they accepted, and in December 2019 he began.
His five years in the role were defined by two parallel efforts: education and export. He lectured government officials, municipal leaders, and teachers across Israel, explaining what climate change is and why it threatens the country. He installed solar panels and a beehive on the Foreign Ministry roof and banned disposable plastics from its cafeteria. But he also asked a harder question — what could Israel, as a nation, actually contribute? The answer lay in what necessity had already built. Israel pioneered solar water heating, invented drip irrigation, and operates the world's only fully circular water economy, recycling ninety percent of treated water back into agriculture. Its companies now work across solar energy, agrovoltaics, energy storage, and hydrogen. These were not inventions for export; they were survival strategies that had become blueprints.
Regionally, Behar understood that no country could build climate resilience alone. He participated in a Cyprus-led Eastern Mediterranean initiative and supported a U.S.-brokered plan for the UAE to supply Israel with solar power while Israel provided Jordan with desalinated water. That plan remains suspended. The 2011 Syrian drought, which helped ignite a civil war, haunts his analysis — climate change, he argued, is a risk multiplier that destabilizes fragile states and drives displacement. The conditions today are worse than they were then.
When pressed on Israel's own emissions record, Behar did not deflect. He acknowledged the country needed to move faster on both mitigation and adaptation. But he also pointed to what Israel had achieved: water security where neighbors have almost none, local food production, and uninterrupted electricity. He remained committed to the UN climate conferences despite their limitations, insisting that international cooperation, however imperfect, is the only path that exists.
On August 14, Behar flew to Nairobi to begin his ambassadorship to Kenya, Uganda, Tanzania, Malawi, and the Seychelles. He has added Swahili to the seven languages he already speaks. He sees the posting not as a departure from climate work but as its continuation — a chance to bring Israel's hard-won knowledge to a region facing intensifying pressures. His successor as climate envoy, Raphael Singer, steps in from the Israeli Embassy in Rome. For Behar, the geography has shifted; the conviction has not.
Gideon Behar spent more than five years as Israel's special envoy for climate change, a role he shaped into something far larger than a title. He installed solar panels and a beehive on the Foreign Ministry roof. He banned disposable cups and cutlery from its cafeteria. He traveled across Israel delivering lectures on climate change to government officials, municipal leaders, and anyone willing to listen. He elevated Israel's presence at the UN's annual climate conferences, positioning the country's innovations as solutions the world desperately needs. On August 14, he boarded a plane to Nairobi to become ambassador to Kenya, Uganda, Tanzania, Malawi, and the Seychelles—a transition that, in his view, simply combines two of his deepest commitments: Africa and the environment.
Behar's path into climate work was not inevitable. As a boy, he collected trash on school trips and grew vegetables outside his building. The turning point came during his tenure as ambassador to Senegal from 2006 to 2011, when he led a major drip irrigation project with Israel's Agency for International Development Cooperation. He witnessed firsthand the severity of desertification and biodiversity loss across the region. At fifty, he asked himself what he wanted to contribute to the world. The answer was climate change. He proposed the position of special climate envoy to the Foreign Ministry, and they accepted. When he began in December 2019, he already possessed deep knowledge of what needed to be done.
His focus as envoy centered on explanation and demonstration. He spent considerable time teaching government officials, municipal leaders, and the public what climate change is, how it threatens Israel and the world, and what must be done in response. He worked extensively with the Education Ministry, delivering dozens of lectures to teachers and students. But beyond awareness, he asked a more practical question: how could Israel, as a country, contribute to the global struggle against climate change? The answer lay in exporting what Israel had learned through necessity. Created in desert conditions with severe water scarcity, Israel had developed technologies and practices the world now urgently needs. The country pioneered solar panels for water heating. It invented drip irrigation and reverse osmosis desalination. It operates the only circular water economy on earth—cities use desalinated water, which is then treated and purified, with ninety percent recycled back into agriculture. Israel's start-ups and established companies now work in solar energy, energy efficiency, energy storage, agrovoltaics, and hydrogen technology. These are not theoretical innovations; they are survival strategies that have become global blueprints.
Regionally, Behar participated in the Eastern Mediterranean and Middle East Climate Change Initiative, led by Cyprus. He understood that climate resilience could not be built in isolation. The Middle East and North Africa face the worst droughts in recorded memory. He believed 2024 and 2025 would mark a historical turning point, with extreme heat waves and floods intensifying across the world. The region's vulnerability ran deeper than weather. In 2011, a prolonged drought contributed to the outbreak of Syria's civil war. This year, conditions are worse. Climate change acts as a risk multiplier, he explained, amplifying dangers in states where central governments are already fragile. The result would likely be displacement and instability. The only path forward was regional cooperation—yet current geopolitical tensions have frozen collaborative projects. A U.S.-brokered plan for the United Arab Emirates to build solar fields in Jordan to supply Israel with power, and for Israel to build desalination stations to provide Jordan with water, remains suspended. Behar acknowledged fewer contacts exist behind the scenes, but he held firm to Israel's vision: using climate and environmental issues as bridges toward regional peace.
When asked about Israel's failures on emissions reduction—a subject of criticism from the State Comptroller's Office and the OECD—Behar did not deflect. He acknowledged the country needed to be more ambitious on both mitigation and adaptation. But he also insisted on perspective. Israel has succeeded in water management where neighboring countries have almost none. It produces local food, avoids widespread imports, and maintains electricity supply around the clock. These achievements matter. Yet he recognized that climate change is dynamic and unpredictable. Every time you think you are prepared, something else emerges—more sandstorms, unexpected shifts. The annual UN climate conferences, which many dismiss as talk without action, remain necessary in his view, though they must become more practical, make clearer decisions, and keep politics at a distance. Global emissions continue rising, but international cooperation remains the only viable path.
In his new role as ambassador to East Africa, Behar plans to work closely with Israel's Agency for International Development Cooperation on development projects. He intends to open doors for Israeli civil society organizations that have begun working across the continent over the past decade. He has added Swahili to the seven languages he already speaks, including Wolof from his years in Senegal. He sees the posting not as a departure from his climate work but as its continuation—a chance to bring Israel's hard-won knowledge of survival in harsh conditions to a region facing intensifying climate pressures. His replacement as climate envoy, Raphael Singer, takes over the role from his previous position as head of economy and trade at the Israeli Embassy in Rome. For Behar, the transition marks not an ending but a shift in scale and geography, carrying the same conviction: that innovation born from necessity can reshape how the world responds to its most pressing crisis.
Citações Notáveis
Climate change is a risk multiplier, increasing dangers in states where central governments are weak, such as those in the Middle East. We are likely to see displacement and volatility.— Gideon Behar
Israel is a living example of climate innovation and how to survive in harsh climatic conditions, which are becoming more relevant across the globe.— Gideon Behar
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
You spent five years as climate envoy, and now you're moving to East Africa as ambassador. Why does that feel like the right next step?
Because I've always believed climate solutions come from lived experience. Israel survived in the desert by innovating—drip irrigation, desalination, circular water systems. Africa faces the same pressures now, intensifying. I can bring those lessons directly.
But there's a gap between having solutions and getting people to adopt them. What makes you think African governments will listen?
They're already listening. The droughts are real. The water shortages are real. When you can show a country how to recycle ninety percent of its water back into agriculture, you're not selling theory—you're offering survival.
You mentioned that climate change was a factor in Syria's civil war. That's a heavy claim. How does that shape your thinking about the region?
It's not just Syria. Drought creates instability. Instability creates conflict. Climate change is a risk multiplier in weak states. If we don't build regional cooperation on water and energy, we'll see displacement and volatility spread. That's not speculation—it's already happening.
Yet the UAE-Jordan solar project is frozen because of the war in Gaza. How do you keep pushing for cooperation when politics keeps shutting the door?
You keep the vision alive. You work behind the scenes. You understand that the need doesn't disappear just because contact becomes difficult. Climate doesn't wait for peace. But peace is harder to build without addressing climate together.
What's the one thing you want people to understand about Israel's role in all this?
That we're not lecturing from comfort. We built these solutions because we had to. We have no margin for error. That's what makes our experience valuable—it's tested, it's real, and it works in the hardest conditions.