The 80th United Nations General Assembly has been not only an exercise in geopolitical science and a deeper understanding of today’s world, but also an exercise in philosophy — an existential reflection on humanity’s purpose and, by extension, the purpose of the polities that represent it.
Many representatives have rightly criticized the United Nations for its inaction as an international body, but as Finnish President Alexander Stubb reminded the Assembly, “the power of a small country lies in its ability to cooperate with others” — and there is no arena more essential to that purpose than the United Nations itself.
A common theme of this year’s Assembly was a return to the very foundations of the UN — its Charter, its origins in the aftermath of the Second World War, and the lessons humanity sought to preserve after that catastrophe. Nations such as Lithuania reflected on their own historical experiences and the enduring consequences of that war. Another thread running through many speeches was a shared paradox: while leaders openly questioned whether the UN is doing enough, many of those same statements called for reform rather than abandonment. This tension reveals something crucial — that despite frustrations, states still believe in the purpose, principles, and values of the United Nations. What they reject is not the idea of the UN itself, but the structural limitations — particularly the use of veto power — that prevent it from fully realizing its mission.
Slovenian President Nataša Pirc Musar invoked the concept of jus cogens — those fundamental principles of international law considered inviolable because they exist to prevent the worst atrocities that states can inflict upon humanity. Another recurring theme was the widespread condemnation of Israel’s actions in Gaza, with many leaders, including the Taoiseach of Ireland, describing them as acts of genocide. In a time when the authority of international law appears to be eroding, these statements serve as a vital reminder of a principle that underpins the entire postwar order: might does not make right.
Yet as words flowed in New York throughout the week, the suffering of children in Gaza, both Sudans, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and countless other conflict zones continued unabated. Children whose only “crime” is simply to exist endure forms of suffering the world can scarcely comprehend. Starvation, violence, displacement, and the unrelenting presence of death become recurring themes woven into the fabric of their earliest memories — not as exceptions, but as the conditions of their existence.
Barbados’ representative quoted Tacitus: “They plunder, they butcher, they ravish, and call it by the lying name of ‘empire.’ They make a desert and call it ‘peace.’” The words are as stirring as they are haunting. They call to mind the children of Gaza, forced to live in a man-made desert cynically called peace. It is a desert not of sand but of dukkha — suffering, as the Buddha named it in the First Noble Truth — where the most innocent are condemned to bear the weight of decisions they did not make.
What grief so many leaders have expressed, because the only “crime” the children and people of Gaza have committed is simply to exist. Yes, they exist alongside a group that committed the heinous acts of October 7th. But their only crime is to live beside them. What a damning indictment of global moral failure it is to equate an entire people with Hamas simply because Hamas operates in the territory where they dwell.
For the crimes of a few, an entire people has been condemned to suffer on a scale beyond what the human mind can truly comprehend. They know that hearts around the world break for Gaza — but heartbreak does not feed them, nor does it help them survive another day. Compassion alone cannot rebuild what has been destroyed, and grief, no matter how deep, cannot shield a child from hunger or fear.
Many world leaders, in their own words, have acknowledged the suffering — and yet, even as leaders, too often all they can do is watch. Still, a common refrain has echoed through the Assembly: never again. Again and again, speakers have condemned the failure of the Security Council to fulfill its most basic purpose — to act decisively in the face of atrocity and to reduce the suffering of the innocent.
It is also an opportunity for reflection. Against the backdrop of this General Assembly, countries such as France, the United Kingdom, Canada, and many other Western states have now recognized Palestinian statehood. Yet even with 157 nations affirming the Palestinian people’s right to self-determination, the path toward a stable and prosperous state remains immensely demanding — shaped by political divisions, historical trauma, and the immense task of building enduring institutions from the ruins of conflict.
The path of the Palestinian people toward democracy is arduous. The recognition of a Palestinian state by Israel remains absent, and the current Israeli government is firmly opposed to it. Moreover, the Palestinian Authority itself lacks many of the instruments, institutions, and foundational institutional memory necessary to build a prosperous state aligned with the democratic values upheld by the West — and by Israel itself.
Yet the Palestinian people are defined not only by their hardships but also by their resilience — by their enduring ability to survive and even to thrive despite overwhelming adversity. There remains hope that one day they may build a prosperous state of their own, where children in Gaza and the West Bank can grow up without fear, violence, or scarcity. In Buddhism, the Third Noble Truth teaches that suffering can cease, often interpreted as the cessation that comes from non-attachment. Yet one might also understand it as a call to non-attachment to the normalization of suffering — a refusal to accept injustice as inevitable. The words spoken during this year’s General Assembly may yet help lead the Palestinian people toward that path.
This year’s United Nations General Assembly, beyond the familiar cadence of geopolitical rhetoric, has stirred a deeper philosophical and humanistic synthesis. Beyond the pursuit of national interests, world leaders gather not only to represent their states and uphold the mission of the UN, but to help lift broken peoples onto a path toward dignity and prosperity. And in witnessing these words and aspirations, it inspires hope — hope that there is still faith in humanity left to be upheld.