​There are several  paradoxes when discussing decolonisation.  In the book "White Saviourism in International Development," the authors discuss one such paradox of relationships in which those who have invaded, colonised, and exploited are the very people claiming a commitment to solving the problems they themselves initially created. This phenomenon is known as the "White Saviour Complex," a state of mind and unequal power structure founded on the notion that a particular worldview and knowledge system knows better than others.  This notion not only strips agency from racialised people but also perpetuates the false narrative that people in the Global South constantly need to be saved.

It is along this line that the concept of 'localisation' emerged following the World Humanitarian Summit of 2016, with much discussion about its effectiveness and whether it is merely aspirational. On the surface it seems harmless as  localisation  was set to be about enabling  meaningful engagement and leadership of local and national groups from countries in receipt of aid funding and development programmes. The apparent aim was to enhance capacity exchange, increase direct funding, and empower local groups to lead initiatives. However, and whilst it is well-intentioned, it does not transfer full decision-making authority to the recipient organisation. Peace Direct has argued in some of its work that the emphasis on the engagement of local actors still primarily implies that Global South actors remain passive recipients of the discretionary goodwill of Global North actors. The term 'local' also might be perceived as derogatory suggesting a lack of agency or that these actors are necessarily dependent on international actors. As the saying goes, "Nothing needs 'localising'. It already exists!" In addition, if aid institutions still retain significant control, then the shift to localisation is pointless as power is not transferred.

Recently, the concept of localisation has been used to refer to a wide range of issues, most notably decolonisation. Within the development and humanitarian sector, this has become a buzzword, as Themrise Khan writes, serving as a way to shift narratives. Moosavi (2020) refers to this as the "decolonial bandwagon of intellectual decolonisation," characterised by Northern-centrism. This arises from the tendency of scholarship to ignore decolonial scholars from the Global South, thereby enacting intellectual colonisation instead of dismantling it.

Thus, decolonisation is about more than improvement. If colonisation was about the restructuring of economies, political systems, societies and knowledge systems, and imposing Eurocentric ways of understanding the world, then decolonisation is the reverse.  It is about shifting power, changing forms of knowledge, and rethinking the world beyond a Eurocentric worldview. It is about changing the entire system that the sector subscribes to, presently one that oppresses Black, Indigenous, and People of Colour (BIPOC).  Decolonization necessitates a rethinking around the deeper systemic problem of asymmetric power that comes from a pedagogy that the brown and black subjects are not ready to take control of their own destinies.

In this case, localisation certainly falls short of achieving true decolonisation, often resulting in a superficial transfer of responsibilities without dismantling the underlying power dynamics. Whilst local actors may be given more prominent roles, the frameworks, funding mechanisms, and accountability structures frequently remain controlled by international organisations. This perpetuates a dependency on external validation and resources, undermining the sovereignty and autonomy of local communities. Mihlar argues that localisation does not account for the underlying logic of colonialism in the humanitarian and development sector rendering it inadequate to confront the asymmetrical power dynamic it seeks to dislodge. In other words, localisation is more about focusing on reforming the process within the existing framework of humanitarian and development work without questioning whether the system itself requires a significant rehaul from its conceptual core.

This supports the premise put forward by "White Saviourism in International Development," namely that whilst localisation is well-intentioned, it is not the definitive answer to decolonisation and is not a panacea for the deep-rooted issues of colonialism. It instead has become a distraction for discussing meaningful engagement with exploring the  agency for, and suggesting the leadership of, local and national actors in humanitarian response. Although it aims to enhance capacity exchange and increase of direct funding, and supposedly empower local actors to lead initiatives, it does not unpack the need for justice or the dismantling of the existing system.

Hence, there is a need to change the paradigm of the conversation. We must begin from a decolonial perspective, developing a new 'paradigm' of thought and approach that interrogates the localisation agenda, provides agency to the 'local,' and has a pedagogy of liberation and freedom that works in partnership with the affected communities. This entails the disruption of the existing system and upending the structure according to and with local voices, cultures, and traditions. It is about taking risks and ensuring that the right actors are at the table to hear their voices. Crucial to this conversation is to question whose expertise we value, who we listen to, who holds the levers of power, and who gets a vote. Additionally, it requires dismantling the construction of the communities we work with as the "other," that is, viewing them solely as places overseas with problems and needs rather than recognising them as places where solutions are generated and capabilities are already present.

Most importantly, decolonisation involves transforming power structures so that those in a position of authority reflect the communities where the work is conducted. We need to democratise humanitarianism and development work by creating forums and tools that facilitate the comprehensive engagement of all stakeholders, particularly national staff in the project areas, in informing and guiding decisions. Ultimately, we need to overhaul the framework to foster a better, more interdisciplinary understanding of the globalised vulnerability landscape amongst policymakers and operational decision-makers. This should provide alternatives, including ensuring a different set of funding mechanisms for locals.

The change in framework comes from a realisation that the underlying model of development and humanitarian action has emerged as the 'grandchild' of colonisation, shaped by egoistic values of paternalism with a superiority complex that upholds the notion of 'White is Right' (Zigomo 2021). This paternalism strips the local people of their agency and puts forward the notion that those from the 'West' (Western Europe, North America, Australia) come to the 'Global South' to assist, based on the 'colonial' assumption that black and brown minds cannot think for themselves (White 2002).  This colonial legacy persists in that the systems and structures adopted by 'civilising missions' and humanitarian agencies, originated from the colonial powers themselves. Thus, much of contemporary law, policies, and actions instituted in and by humanitarian and development organisations reinforce the colonial power dynamics that systemically oppress and dominate over those from the 'Global South.' These legacies influence humanitarian assistance and development activities, often leaving affected people feeling that the services provided are not tailored to their needs or developed with their input. The terminology used to describe these people tends to essentialise them as 'vulnerable,' 'powerless,' 'helpless,' 'disempowered,' or 'victims.' The sector's reluctance to discuss this issue holistically reflects what Ackah (2018) points to as the hypocrisy of the 'West' regarding the framework that underpins international relations. Whilst there are attempts to address poverty and injustice and to promote diversity and inclusion, there is no interest in examining these efforts through the lens of colonial exploitation and white supremacy. This perspective needs to change if we are to engage seriously with the conversations around localisation and decolonisation.

There are a few other paradoxes to consider  in the conversation around decolonisation which needs to be recognised following the conversation above . First, we should not view decolonisation solely as a dynamic between Western post-colonial powers controlling non-Western post-colonial states. Many former colonies have moved beyond their colonial histories but now exhibit colonial tendencies, exacerbating power inequalities within their own countries. This can manifest through discrimination—often violently— against religious and ethnic minorities, as well as through feudal control, financial corruption or through political dictatorships. Whilst it may be convenient to blame colonialism for many of the problems in these post-colonial states, issues such as corruption, crumbling infrastructure, and fiscal, economic, and social collapse are more directly linked to the greed of the elite and their thirst for wealth and power. Those of us in the 'Global South' cannot ignore abuses of power that occur outside the Global North—our poor and hungry could not care less that we were colonised by the British or anyone else. Immediate issues are more pressing, like essential services, rights, inflation, and jobs. Our past does not haunt us as much as our present does.

Second, if we are to discuss decolonisation, it cannot be simply reduced to addressing the 'colonial legacy' and paying the price for guilty European consciences. Whilst making amends for the past is important, we must also focus on the present to identify modern forms of colonialism and injustice taking place. We cannot engage in conversations around decolonisation or even localisation if we are silent on contemporary instances of  present colonisation, oppression, and injustices that need to be addressed. Ignoring current forms of colonialism—such as the expulsion of people from their lands, violent occupation, and systematic oppression—renders  any discussions about decolonisation and injustice meaningless.

Colonialism exploits this all-too-human tendency to portray the colonised as violent savages unfit for self-rule, and that thereby they should be denied agency and treated as subhuman. Decolonisation demands that we dismantle the systems of power and privilege that perpetuate inequality and injustice. It requires us to confront uncomfortable truths, challenge deeply ingrained narratives, and work towards healing and reconciliation with those who have been marginalised and oppressed. If localisation is to be considered as part of this process, it needs to start from this perspective. Otherwise, it becomes a distraction from the necessary disruption of the existing system.