There is a growing trend around the world towards the use of bureaucratic rules and regulations to contain and control humanitarian access. Earlier this month we saw another example of this, when the government of South Sudan announced that they would be increasing the cost of a professional-level work permit for aid workers from £80–£8,000.

This is limiting our ability to give life-saving assistance. At a time of historic humanitarian need and limited resources, this is a policy trend that the people in need and those who work to help them can ill afford.

All aid workers understand that host countries have the right to define regulations for foreign workers and civil society within their borders. Of course there will be a need for organisational registration, work permits and project approvals. We also get that there will be fees and procedures associated with these regulatory requirements. Visas and permits require applications and payment. Registrations require lawyers and paperwork. Projects require funds and approvals from technical ministries. No one questions these things.

Policies like this, disguised as good governance, serve a clear political purpose: to control humanitarian activities

But there is a worrying trend for regulatory procedures to be used as impediments rather than enablers. These procedures hinder and delay; they don’t seem to have anything to do with efficiency and accountability. Sometimes they are direct, sometimes indirect. Sometimes a new regulation will create an unreasonable cost burden, as in South Sudan. At other times governments will shut down or freeze bank accounts, as occurred in 2009 in Sudan.

Other problems are a rotating door of ministry approvals and stamps to clear essential supplies through customs. Or restricted access to displaced camps or travel within the country, where the rules for gaining approval may not be written down, or change regularly. In some countries, even going through resumes and interviews for national staff positions requires the physical oversight of a government employee. Policies like this, disguised as good governance, serve a clear political purpose: to control and/or direct humanitarian activities, sometimes with no consideration for the suffering of the populations affected.

But we carry on working within and despite these conditions. We track the impediments. We advocate for change, all the while helping as best we can within the restrictions.

We don’t speak too loudly because we fear the largest impediment of all – loss of our ability to work in a country. For this is another tactic, as witnessed in Turkey recently – the withdrawal of an organisation’s national registration, and with it their ability to continue their programming for hundreds of thousands, potentially millions, of people in need.

The man-made crises of South Sudan, Syria, Yemen and others will continue until political solutions are found and governments can establish peace and stability for their people. But until that day comes, these same governments must ensure that people’s access to essential services is not impeded through their own actions.

The humanitarian imperative that guides aid workers is intended as a common principle, to be shared with affected people and host governments. Creating impediments that purposefully hinder access instead frames it as a bargaining chip for people’s lives.

Patricia McIlreavy is the vice president of the humanitarian policy and practice at InterAction.

What impediments have you faced in your job as an aid worker? Have you ever been asked for money or other incentives by government officials or other groups? We want to investigate this issue further – please get in touch with your stories by emailing globaldevpros@theguardian.com with “aid work barriers” in the subject line.

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