For decades, the United Nations was celebrated as humanity’s best attempt at crafting a global conscience— a platform where nations could talk rather than fight, where rules of international order might restrain brute force, and where the weak could at least hope for moral shelter against the strong. Every September, the General Assembly’s opening session in New York stood as a reminder that diplomacy, however imperfect, still mattered. Yet the 80th General Assembly in 2025 has told a completely different story. Instead of a renewal of faith in multilateralism, it has become an exhibition of fatigue, absenteeism, and rhetorical exhaustion.
The sense of decline is unmistakable. The UN no longer inspires awe, nor does it appear capable of restraining conflicts that are ripping across continents. Its budget is shrinking, its political leverage is minimal, and its very relevance is under doubt. This week in New York, a stark question looms: has the United Nations, akin to the League of Nations before it, reached the end of its usefulness? And if so, what will come next?
A striking feature of UNGA 2025 is the list of world leaders who chose not to attend in person. Russian President Vladimir Putin remained in Moscow, sending Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov instead. China’s Xi Jinping, once a regular voice in major multilateral settings, also stayed away, delegating to Premier Li Qiang. Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi skipped the Assembly, with External Affairs Minister S. Jaishankar speaking in his place. Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas was denied a US visa and delivered remarks remotely rather than appearing on the world’s biggest diplomatic stage. These are not mere scheduling conflicts. They are deliberate signals— statements in absence. When the leaders of some of the world’s most powerful or most aggrieved states decline to use the UN as a platform, they diminish the institution’s symbolic capital.
Once upon a time, skipping the Assembly was a diplomatic snub with consequences; today, it is a calculated irrelevance. The absences underscore how many capitals increasingly view the UN not as the place to make decisions but as a stage for secondary rhetoric, while real bargains are struck elsewhere, whether bilaterally or through ad hoc groupings. If the empty seats indicate apathy, the delivered speeches frequently lacked substance. US President Donald Trump returned to New York with familiar bravado, issuing stern warnings to Russia about continuing its war in Ukraine and to Israel about the risks of eroding global legitimacy through its Gaza campaign. He threatened tariffs, sanctions, and diplomatic consequences. Yet such warnings fell flat. The war in Ukraine grinds on with little change in Moscow’s calculus.
Israel, despite US pressure, continues its military operations, brushing aside Washington’s verbal admonitions. The spectacle reveals a fundamental problem with modern summit diplomacy: loud threats without enforceable follow-through do little to alter entrenched behavior. Trump’s rhetoric may energize domestic audiences, but on the international stage it exposes the limits of US influence when not buttressed by allied consensus, enforceable sanctions, or credible deterrence. In this, Washington mirrors the broader malaise of the UN itself— speeches without action, declarations without implementation.
The United Nations is not just suffering politically; it is haemorrhaging financially. The organization faces severe budgetary shortfalls in 2025, with major donors scaling back contributions. The USA, once the UN’s largest funder, has dramatically reduced its support. The result is a looming wave of staff cuts and the potential downsizing or outright consolidation of dozens of UN agencies.
At the same time, public opinion surveys reveal that while citizens worldwide generally support the idea of international cooperation, their trust in the UN as an institution is low. In regions most affected by conflict— the Middle East, Africa, and parts of Asia— the UN is increasingly seen as ineffective, beholden to great powers, or structurally incapable of responding swiftly to crises. The gap between aspirations and delivery has never been wider. Add to the mix the paralysis of the Security Council, where vetoes by permanent members routinely block decisive action, and the UN’s inability to enforce its resolutions becomes glaring. Security Council statements have often failed to effectively protect civilians in Syria, Myanmar, and Ukraine. The General Assembly passes symbolic resolutions, but without enforcement capacity, they remain little more than parchment declarations.
The United Nations is not dead— but it is limping, and the limp is visible. UNGA 2025 has highlighted an organization that commands less respect, attracts fewer leaders, and delivers even less practical impact. It has shown us a forum where warnings are ignored, conflicts rage unchecked, and small nations feel abandoned. The Magna Carta, the League of Nations, and even the UN itself all remind us that noble words are fragile shields. Without enforcement and political will, institutions collapse into irrelevance. The pressing question is not whether the UN has lost its charm— it has— but whether the world will allow it to lose its role. If it does, weaker nations will be left to the mercy of stronger ones, and the very idea of collective security will die a quiet death. Who will replace the UN if it fails? Today, there is no answer. That silence should terrify us more than any empty speech in New York.
The UN’s crisis is not unique in history. The Magna Carta of 1215 is remembered today as a cornerstone of liberty, but in its time it was a compact among elites, more symbolic than immediately transformative. The Westphalian treaties of 1648 promised order but could not prevent Europe from plunging into repeated wars. The League of Nations, built in the aftermath of World War I, collapsed under the weight of inaction as fascist powers trampled over its ideals. The lesson is sobering: charters and treaties embody aspirations, but without the machinery of enforcement and the willingness of powerful actors to abide by them, they falter. The UN Charter, with its ringing promise to “save succeeding generations from the scourge of war,” risks becoming another artefact of noble intent rather than a shield for the vulnerable. The issue is not just a rhetorical question. If the UN continues its slide into irrelevance, the vacuum will be filled— but not necessarily by something better. Several possibilities loom.
Regional organizations like the African Union, ASEAN, or the European Union could play larger roles, but they are geographically limited and uneven in capability. Ad hoc coalitions of the willing might step in to address specific crises, but they lack universality and often reflect the interests of dominant states rather than impartial justice. New proposals for a reformed global body— with a more inclusive Security Council, more equitable funding mechanisms, or expanded representation for the Global South— are floated regularly, but the political will to implement them is weak.
The uncomfortable truth is that nothing currently on the horizon matches the UN’s universality. Its very weakness, paradoxically, is also its unique strength: even adversaries agree to sit in the same hall, however briefly. However, sooner than later, China’s top leader Xi Jinping would come up with a solution as he has already floated his famous Global Governance Initiative this year, unveiling China’s vision to help resolve global conflicts.
The fate of the UN depends on whether the international community musters the courage to reform it meaningfully. That would require stable financing insulated from the political whims of a few donors, an expansion of Security Council membership to reflect today’s geopolitical realities, streamlined mandates for peacekeeping and humanitarian action, and credible enforcement mechanisms when states violate core principles of sovereignty and human rights. Yet none of these reforms will succeed unless the world’s major powers decide they prefer a functioning UN to a fragmented global order. At present, the evidence suggests the opposite: great powers are hedging toward spheres of influence, transactional deals, and regional dominance rather than universal cooperation.
The United Nations is not dead— but it is limping, and the limp is visible. UNGA 2025 has highlighted an organization that commands less respect, attracts fewer leaders, and delivers even less practical impact. It has shown us a forum where warnings are ignored, conflicts rage unchecked, and small nations feel abandoned. The Magna Carta, the League of Nations, and even the UN itself all remind us that noble words are fragile shields. Without enforcement and political will, institutions collapse into irrelevance. The pressing question is not whether the UN has lost its charm— it has— but whether the world will allow it to lose its role. If it does, weaker nations will be left to the mercy of stronger ones, and the very idea of collective security will die a quiet death. Who will replace the UN if it fails? Today, there is no answer. That silence should terrify us more than any empty speech in New York.
