Tracing a line from Prague in 1948 to Rabat in 2027 has an almost cinematic quality. One organization is subtly bridging the gap between two cities, two eras, and nearly eight decades apart. The early childhood education community took notice when the World Organization for Early Childhood Education, or OMEP, announced that it would host its World Conference in Morocco’s capital for the first time in its existence. It’s the kind of choice that makes a statement even before the meeting starts.
In 1948, OMEP was founded in Prague during the first World Conference on Early Childhood, which brought together representatives from only 17 nations amid the shaky optimism of a post-war world. After UNESCO assisted in its founding, the organization established itself firmly within the international system by obtaining Special Consultative Status with the UN Economic and Social Council, appointing representatives to UNICEF and UNESCO, and creating what is now a truly global network of educators, activists, and policymakers with a focus on children from birth to age eight. When attempting to comprehend why Rabat 2027 seems like more than just a practical decision, that foundation is important.
For a long time, North Africa has been on the periphery of discussions regarding international educational policy; it is present but not always at the center, involved but seldom given a voice. This geometry is slightly altered when OMEP’s World Conference is brought to Africa for the first time. The decision may be the result of the organization’s conscious consideration of whose opinions have traditionally influenced statements and position papers. Geographical location has an impact on who feels entitled to participate in a conversation, according to observers who closely monitor these circuits, at least.
This is further complicated by the context of migration and mobility along the Africa-Europe corridor. Just a few months ago, senior representatives from 39 partner nations convened in Abuja to discuss long-term displacement, movement caused by climate change, and the very real challenges that families and children along migration routes face. These realities are an integral part of early childhood education. Children are part of mobile families. These kids require learning environments that travel with them in one way or another, as well as safety and stability. Whether or not every conference participant views it that way, OMEP’s mandate—defending the rights of children ages 0 to 8—lies squarely within this humanitarian domain.
It is worthwhile to pause on Rabat itself. It’s a city of contrasts, with government ministries next to historic medina walls and a capital that has constructed real infrastructure for global communication without losing its distinctively local character. The city’s history as a regional crossroads—North African, Mediterranean, Francophone, and increasingly linked to international policy circuits—is evident when you stroll around it. The background isn’t neutral.
World Declarations, position papers, and national committee endorsements are the means by which OMEP functions; these instruments necessitate confidence, agreement, and persistent political will. Hosting in Rabat conveys something about the organization’s perception of its future. Although it’s still unclear if the conference will spur long-term policy change in the area, the decision’s symbolic significance appears deliberate. Organizations such as OMEP hardly ever make mistakes.
As this develops, it’s difficult to avoid the conclusion that Rabat 2027 is more about a question OMEP is finally asking itself aloud: whose early childhood are we really organizing for?
