UN General Assembly hall during high-level week, Photo by Ashley Gagné
Eighty years ago this January, the first United Nations General Assembly began in Westminster Central Hall in London. The world was picking up the shattered pieces of two World Wars, leaders were grappling for power to remake the new world order, and civilians were trying to achieve a new normal and rebuild their lives. Fifty-one member states attended and addressed the newly established General Assembly and the world, laying bare their vision for a peaceful tomorrow.
The UN charter, ratified just six months earlier in June of 1945, laid out the terms and conditions on which this new international entity would operate. Among other aims, the Charter states, “We the peoples of the United Nations determined: to save succeeding generations from the scourge of war, which twice in our lifetime has brought untold sorrow to mankind, and to reaffirm faith in fundamental human rights, in the dignity and worth of the human person, in the equal rights of men and women and of nations large and small (...) and for these ends, to practice tolerance and live together in peace with one another as good neighbors (...) have resolved to combine our efforts to accomplish these aims.”
Sounds a bit like Scripture to me.
Eighty years later, it’s hard not to feel like we’ve lost some of that faith – in respect for fundamental human rights, in the right to live in peace and security, in the dignity of our global siblings. At eighty, the UN faces an inflection point. As the General Assembly high-level debate opens this week and 195 national leaders face the world, armed conflict is spreading, not resolving. Climate patterns are intensifying, displacing millions. Global leaders have wavered in their duty to humanity and institutions that hold the powerful accountable.
What then, can the 193 speakers say this week, during their fifteen-minute address to General Assembly delegations? What will they say to their peers and people, when faced with these failings? How will they espouse their commitment to the UN, and the charter their nations ratified, while so many openly break it? Some have even attacked employees of the very institution they have pledged to uphold. How will we respond to them, as citizens of the world and nations?
Many of us have probably seen (or possibly worn) an accessory emblazoned with the letters “WWJD”, for “What Would Jesus Do?”, but as our office attends General Assembly high-level week, I often find myself thinking, “What would Jesus say?”
If He were sitting in the General Assembly hall in New York City, what and who would He feel moved to mention? Looking each leader in the eye, confronting their idolatry of weapons, wealth, and power ― how would He speak to them? Would it be a whisper, a pleading for the people of Gaza who are livestreaming their own genocide? Would it be a logical, thoughtful defense of the people in eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo, who have faced the violence of armed groups? Would it be a loud, passionate argument, defending the people of Kiribati, and other small Pacific Islands, whose daily lives are dictated by the existential threat of rising oceans?
It’s often hard to find the words, while sitting on the fourth-floor balcony of the General Assembly hall, listening to leaders’ empty platitudes, their droning condemnation of atrocities instead of actions to address them. Some leaders, of course, speak with hope, compassion, and joy in their commitment to humanity, demonstrating the power of collective action to right wrongs and prevent war.
Many people I’ve met through MCC are surprised to learn of our United Nations office. Likewise, I’ve met many diplomats who are struck by the scope of our work as a relatively small organization. Since I joined MCC two years ago, I’ve had numerous meetings about humanitarian issues, technical talking points, and specific language suggestions for use in member states’ communication, but my favorite conversations are those that delve into faith.
One private briefing ended in a diplomat asking, “The world is crazy. How do you keep your faith?” I responded by talking about the work of our partners, like Al-Najd Developmental Forum in Gaza, who continue to deliver food to their communities even as they themselves are relentlessly bombed and starved. I talked about MCC peace camps, nurturing new generations of peacemakers, and our partners and staff in over 40 countries who continue to show up through chaos and unrest.
At eighty, the UN is certainly showing its age. The liquidity crisis means that some entrances to the General Assembly building are closed because security staff cannot be paid to cover all doors. OCHA, the UN humanitarian agency, has laid off 20% of its staff because of budget shortfalls. Printed in stark, black text on the white wall of the disarmament wing of UN headquarters is a quote from the second UN Secretary General Dag Hammarskjöld: “The United Nations was not created to take mankind to heaven, but to save humanity from hell.”
The UN alone cannot solve all that ails our world. We shoulder that responsibility collectively. When I enter the General Assembly hall during high-level week, ready to sit through five days of speeches, I’ll think again about that image of Jesus, face to face with each world leader. A parent-teacher conference of sorts. A literal come-to-Jesus moment.
As we celebrate 80 years of the United Nations, may we restore and bolster our endurance and our abiding faith: in humanity, in a multilateral system, and in a God of peace.