The selection of the new UN Secretary-General in a complex international context

 

UN: A New Secretary‑General in a Fragmented World

Victor Ângelo

The United Nations Security Council will next week enter a new phase in selecting the next Secretary‑General. The vote will be informal, and each candidate will receive one of three assessments: encouragement, discouragement, or no opinion. This step unfolds against an international landscape marked by political fragmentation, strategic rivalry, and a growing scepticism about the capacity of multilateral institutions to respond to shared global challenges. The successor to António Guterres will inherit not only an agenda crowded with crises, but also the responsibility of demonstrating that global problems can only be confronted through some degree of collective cooperation.

For decades, and until the early years of this century, there existed a minimal consensus around the need for a shared international development agenda. That spirit animated the Millennium Development Goals (2000) and re‑emerged, with greater ambition, in the Sustainable Development Goals (2015). Today, however, that consensus has weakened. The rhetoric of cooperation persists, but the political action that once sustained it has been profoundly eroded.

Three structural factors help explain this deterioration.

The first is the intensification of competition among major powers. Development, infrastructure, technology, and global governance have ceased to be mere domains of cooperation; they have become instruments of power. The most influential states now compete over norms, markets, strategic dependencies, and institutional spaces. The Security Council — which should be the principal forum for building compromise — has proved increasingly unable to produce the necessary and lasting agreements.

China seeks to occupy this space through its global initiatives on Development, Security, Civilisation and, since September 2025, Global Governance, recently complemented by the creation of the World Artificial Intelligence Cooperation Organisation (WAICO). These initiatives follow the Belt and Road framework launched by Xi Jinping in the previous decade. China’s official vocabulary is multilateralist, yet in practice these proposals compete with Western initiatives — such as the G7 Partnership for Global Infrastructure and Investment (2022) — and with the UN itself. What is at stake is not merely the financing of roads, ports, digital networks, or energy systems, but the definition of standards, the establishment of financing criteria, the shaping of political choices, and the moulding of the international environment in which developing countries make decisions.

The second factor is the governance of technology. Robotics and artificial intelligence can free labour from repetitive or dangerous tasks, accelerating progress in health, education, science, and public administration. But without common rules and shared oversight mechanisms, these technologies risk concentrating economic and political power, deepening inequalities, and reducing the autonomy of entire societies. The Sino‑Western dispute over AI norms makes the creation of multilateral forums capable of setting minimum standards even more urgent.

The third factor is the digital transformation of societies. Social media have profoundly altered how citizens perceive the world, relate to one another, and participate in public life. The philosopher Byung‑Chul Han — an exceptionally original thinker and recipient of the Princess of Asturias Award for Communication and Humanities (2025) — argues that digital capitalism fosters an individualism centred on self‑exposure and egocentrism. This “society of the self” erodes empathy and generates indifference towards collective causes: distant poverty, other people’s wars, the climate crisis, or institutional fragility. A kind of civic anaesthesia has taken hold. Added to this is the impact of transnational disinformation, which crosses borders at digital speed and shapes public perceptions, political decisions, and even the legitimacy of multilateral institutions.

Faced with this landscape of public apathy and interstate rivalry, the next Secretary‑General will need to define priorities that are both realistic and politically sustainable. Even before doing so, he or she must redesign the UN’s relationship with the expanding ecosystem of regional organisations and cooperation platforms led by Global South states. Bodies such as the African Union, ASEAN, CELAC, the Arab League, the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation, BRICS+, WAICO, and the Belt and Road Initiative now shape strategic decisions on security, infrastructure, technology, and finance. They are not merely complementary forums: they are instruments of political and economic influence that sometimes compete with the UN’s universal coordinating role. The challenge for the next SG will be to cooperate with these entities without allowing them to replace the UN’s normative and universal function, ensuring that institutional fragmentation does not become normative fragmentation.

The first priority should be a proposal for reform of the Security Council. Without a composition more representative of contemporary geopolitical realities, without greater presence of emerging powers, and without some limit on the paralysing effect of the veto, the Council will continue to lose legitimacy and effectiveness. Bringing it closer to the General Assembly and making it more accountable to the international community will be equally essential.

The second priority should be the protection of multilateral mechanisms that still produce globally beneficial consensus: public health, food security, climate action, humanitarian assistance, migration, sustainable development, and conflict prevention. These are areas where cooperation remains possible and where the UN retains clear added value.

The third priority will require particular attention to the definition of minimum standards for technological governance, especially in the field of artificial intelligence. The aim is not to impose a single model, but to avoid normative fragmentation that leaves the most vulnerable countries at the mercy of private interests or strategic pressure from major powers.

Rebuilding trust means identifying concrete areas where cooperation remains viable, creating incentives for it to prevail over rivalry, and demanding greater political responsibility from those who weaken institutions serving common interests. It also requires clearer rules for digital platforms, whose impact on public opinion and democratic quality can no longer be treated as a secondary matter.

The choice of the next Secretary‑General matters, but it will not be sufficient. Equally decisive will be the quality of the team that accompanies him or her, its independence from the pressures of its countries of origin, and its ability to build bridges without becoming captive to any bloc. The central challenge is not to restore a lost faith in international solidarity, but to construct more modest, pragmatic, and persistent forms of collaboration in a world where interests diverge, power is more dispersed, and trust is becoming an increasingly scarce resource.

Europe and the big powers: be strategic

 

Europe and the Illusion of Permanent Allies

Victor Ângelo

International Security Advisor. Former UN Under-Secretary-General

Published on: 17 Jul 2026

This week, yet another uncomfortable question arose regarding the Hormuz crisis. What legitimacy does a big power have to treat the chokepoints of global trade – and the States that depend upon them – as mere means to its own ends? On Monday, the President of the United States proclaimed himself the "Guardian of the Strait of Hormuz" and imposed a 20% tax on commercial transit through this maritime corridor. On Tuesday, he backtracked and annulled the measure. He did so under pressure from his Gulf allies.

The episode revealed a lack of strategic discernment – an essential quality in any leadership. Acumen is not hesitation, cowardice, or tactical calculation. It is the ability to assess the consequences of a decision before announcing it; to distinguish between what is legally possible, politically acceptable, and strategically sustainable; and to act in a manner that preserves credibility, rather than squandering it on incongruous gestures. A leader with discernment knows that power is not solely measured by the capacity to impose a measure, but also by the aptitude to foresee the resistance it will trigger.

The ephemeral tax of the self-proclaimed "guardian" was an example of imprudence: imposed as a fait accompli, without a recognised legal basis, without consulting the directly affected partners, and without a serious assessment of the Gulf States' reaction. The measure collapsed not out of generosity, but because the affected countries possessed the power to reverse it. The International Maritime Organisation confirmed there was no legal basis for this levy. The problem was not merely the decision; it was the public demonstration that a great power can announce a global measure and discover the following day that it lacks the conditions to sustain it. Consequently, it undermines trust in its word.

President Trump’s decision should not be read as an isolated episode or a personal eccentricity. It belongs to a broader pattern: that of great powers transforming interdependence into instruments of pressure. It is in Africa that this pattern is most clearly visible. All promise protection, investment, security, or development. All invoke the sovereignty of their partners. Yet, in far too many cases, the outcome is an asymmetrical relationship: African countries surrender resources, strategic positions, or decision-making leeway; great powers reap the advantages; and political promises remain contingent upon convenience.

In February 2025, the President of the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) offered Washington access to the country's critical minerals in exchange for security guarantees. Partnership agreements between the two followed, signed in December of that year: the United States gained preferential access to Congolese mineral concessions and assumed the obligation to protect the sovereignty of the eastern DRC. On the American side, the pact did not translate into action. Washington limited itself to approving sanctions against Rwanda, which it accuses of sponsoring the rebels.

In Zimbabwe, the Chinese conglomerate Huayou Cobalt inaugurated the continent's first lithium sulphate plant in 2026. Zimbabwe banned the export of raw lithium to force local processing; it was China, not Zimbabwe, that built the processor – thereby capturing the enormous value of this project.

In Mali, Sudan, and the Central African Republic, the Russian Africa Corps protects military regimes in exchange for gold. These pacts are presented as exercises in sovereignty and protection of these States, but the result is akin to that observed in Kinshasa and Harare. Local partners pay with natural resources, dependence, and a loss of autonomy; great powers extract value; and the promised protection rarely equates to enduring security for the populations.

Europe must draw a clear warning from these examples. No great power is a full, automatic, and unconditional ally of Europe. Each acts according to its own interests:

• Washington seeks to preserve its geopolitical primacy.

• Beijing wishes to control value chains, markets, and critical technologies.

• Moscow aims to limit European autonomy and exploit its fundamental vulnerabilities.

Europe may cooperate with all powers when interests align. However, it must do so with the necessary political vision.

Thus, it is fundamental to abandon strategic naïvety. Strategic discernment demands that Europe maintain open channels, but reduce critical dependencies; cooperate when advantageous, but prepare alternatives; negotiate with seriousness, but without submission.

Washington may remain an indispensable partner in matters of security, but it must no longer be treated as the automatic guarantor of the European order. China may be a commercial and mutual investment partner, but it must equally be viewed as a systemic political competitor in industry, technology, and the control of raw materials. Russia may one day return to being an interlocutor, but as long as it employs coercion, threats, and military aggression as political methods, it must be viewed with suspicion.

European autonomy cannot be a mere rhetorical formula. The only alliances upon which Europe can rely in a stable manner are, first and foremost, those it manages to build within itself – on a foundation of genuine, not merely declarative, unity – and, subsequently, with blocs and economies of comparable weight.

It is not a matter of exchanging dependence on Washington for dependence on Beijing or Moscow. Nor is it about fostering unnecessary enmities with the great powers. It is about recognising that, in an order dispersed among rival poles, without a single authority capable of enforcing international rules, Europe must face the great powers as what they structurally already are: competing entities whose interests may align with European ones at certain moments and diverge profoundly at others.

For Europe, this means one cannot confuse diplomatic proximity with peace; markets with dependence; and protection with tutelage. If Europe fails to learn these distinctions, it risks finding itself in the same league as those illusorily sovereign States, where the essential decisions regarding their security, digital systems, energy, industry, and prosperity run the risk of being made outside their own capitals.

The NATO Summit and the defence of the European geopolitical space

 Europe 2030: Anticipating the Unthinkable and Guaranteeing Peace

Victor Ângelo 

International Security Advisor. 

Former UN Under-Secretary-General

Published on: 10 Jul 2026

The NATO Summit in Ankara has made it impossible to continue ignoring the possibility of a Russian aggression against the European space by the end of the decade. It has become a strategic hypothesis that demands preparation, deterrence, and political will. Europe faces a concrete threat and must build a genuine, coordinated, and maximally autonomous Defence capability. Ankara also confirmed a second self-evident truth: the support of the United States, whilst indispensable, can no longer be treated as an automatic guarantee.

European States must correct an error of judgement: interpreting Moscow as if the Kremlin calculated its actions according to a rational economic logic of costs and benefits. This is not the case. Its strategic vision is shaped by other forces: regime survival, historical resentment towards the West, an obsession with a lost sphere of influence, and the need to project strength to prevent any perception of weakness.

That is why the continuation and intensification of the Russian war against Ukraine increase the European risk. This crisis, triggered by the Kremlin, must end without further delay. As Kyiv demonstrates the capacity to strike critical infrastructure within Russia, the vulnerability of Vladimir Putin's power becomes more visible. These attacks erode an autocracy centred on a single face, whose authority depends on internal repression and the appearance of external invincibility. The greater danger is that the Kremlin, should it feel backed into a corner, might seek to regain the initiative through an escalation against NATO countries, pressuring the West to yield and attempting to force Ukraine into capitulation.

This threat would not be a massive territorial invasion in the image of the wars of the 20th century. The technological context has changed the nature of aggression and reduced the time available for decision-making. The risk may arise from surgical, localized operations of great political impact. Russia possesses missile systems, including hypersonics, capable of striking infrastructure in Western Europe in a matter of minutes. Under a logic of controlled escalation, a precision strike against a port, a power station, a communications hub, or a military base would not necessarily mean the onset of a total war. It could suffice to paralyse the Alliance's political decision-making. Every missile would also be a coercive message.

In parallel, the aggression could take the form of rapid operations in vulnerable points: Svalbard, in northern Norway, essential for monitoring the Arctic; Gotland, in Sweden, decisive for controlling the Baltic Sea; or the Suwałki Gap, between Poland and Lithuania, squeezed between Kaliningrad and Belarus. A lightning occupation, albeit limited in space and time, would have a clear objective: to sever access, create faits accomplis, and force NATO to choose between responding, negotiating, or hesitating.

The target would be allied cohesion. If Russia were to advance and NATO were to hesitate, Article 5 would not disappear from paper, but it would lose political substance. The Alliance would continue to exist; however, it would be left with diminished credibility. And an alliance that no longer intimidates the aggressor approaches the old Chinese image, taken up by Mao, of a paper tiger.

The transition to a sort of “NATO 3.0”, in which Europe will have to assume a much greater share of its own Defence, creates a period of critical vulnerability. The summit made it clear that Europe cannot organize its security on the assumption of a constant, predictable, and politically unconditional American presence.

Furthermore: any American insistence on territorial claims or control over Greenland – a topic once again stirred up by Donald Trump in Ankara – would introduce severe tension into the heart of the Alliance. Moscow would tend to interpret a transatlantic fracture of this nature as an opportunity to test NATO's solidity, exploit divisions, and accelerate its operations in the grey zone.

In my preceding article – “NATO and the trap of red lines”, of 3 July 2026 – I emphasized that one of the most dangerous responses would be to announce “red lines”. Linear thinking fails in the face of hybrid warfare and the manoeuvres that take place in the twilight of the grey zone. By proclaiming absolute ultimatums, the Alliance would risk being pushed into an escalation it does not desire or, worse still, exposing its hesitations. What is required is strategic ambiguity: genuine military capabilities, demonstrable readiness, and response options sufficiently unpredictable to render the adversary's calculations more difficult. Europe must invest in a coordinated manner in its Armed Forces and, simultaneously, preserve the language and practice of peace.

Recognizing that Russian aggression is a real possibility on the 2030 horizon is not alarmism. It is strategic prudence. European rearmament should not be presented as a march towards confrontation, but as a condition for avoiding it. When one's neighbour is a power that transforms history into imperial claims and force into a diplomatic argument, peace comes at a high price. But the price of unpreparedness would be incomparably higher. It is this that must be explained to citizens, without euphemisms or useless dramatizations.

Deterrence and defence do not substitute diplomacy; they lend it weight. A fragile Europe may suggest the opening of a dialogue, but it will hardly be heard. A strong, coherent, and autonomous Europe can propose to Moscow a credible, sustained negotiation, oriented towards stability. Dialogue with Russia will always be sterile if conducted from a position of dependence, division, or fear.

Preparing for the unthinkable does not mean desiring war. It means preventing others from considering it advantageous. To guarantee peace – and this remains the paramount objective –, Europe must be ready to respond to scenarios that until recently seemed inconceivable. Peace depends on the credibility of our resolve.

Reflecting about the forthcoming 2026 NATO Summit

NATO and the Red Lines Trap

Victor Ângelo

International Security Advisor. Former Under-Secretary-General of the UN

Published on: 3 July 2026, Diário de Notícias, Lisbon

  

Next week, the heads of state and government of 32 countries will gather in Ankara for the Annual NATO Summit. The meeting will take place in a complex international context, marked by new regional crises and historic defence commitments—following the demanding budgetary targets approved last year in The Hague. Added to this is a more intense internal debate on how to respond to a Russia that, in addition to its illegal invasion of Ukraine, threatens Western Europe.

The Clash of Two Visions 

Regarding Moscow, the meeting is expected to reflect the clash between two visions: 

The End of Ambiguity: One side demands an end to NATO's policy of "strategic ambiguity", arguing that the Alliance must draw clear red lines against Russian sabotage.

The Trap of Confrontation:The other warns that doing so means falling into a trap that could drag Europe into a catastrophic confrontation. 

For NATO to respond effectively to the challenges of the coming decade, the summit will have to forge a synthesis: political clarity about the threat we face and the Alliance's role, combined with a deliberate and asymmetrical ambiguity regarding the types of possible responses.

A Defensive Alliance and Sovereign Choices 

Any synthesis must start from a fact so often silenced: NATO is, by treaty, an alliance of collective defence whose founding purpose is the security of its members. It must be made clear that it is not an offensive pact directed against Moscow or any other state. When it participated in operations outside its area, it did so because it considered, rightly or wrongly, that Euro-Atlantic stability was at stake. Experience has taught us, now, that these operations require a demanding political and legal justification. 

The Kremlin has refused to recognize the right of every sovereign state to choose its alliances. By way of example, it should be noted that Finland and Sweden did not join NATO because it was imposed by the Alliance, but rather because their citizens democratically decided that membership would decisively reinforce their security. 

Ukraine's aspiration to closer integration into European and Euro-Atlantic structures is no different—it is a sovereign choice. Russia has no right of veto over the independent decisions of its neighbours. Treating NATO's open-door policy as an act of hostility is not a legitimate attitude; it is an obsolete claim based on the theory of spheres of influence that International Law does not recognize and which the defensive character of NATO contradicts. 

The Limits of Ambiguity vs. The Reality of Deterrence 

The defenders of clarity are right in their diagnosis: ambiguity, when confused with a lack of response, fails. NATO's strategy has consisted of leaving the boundaries of the tolerable undefined. Thus, Moscow seems to have viewed this restraint as hesitation and weakness. Therefore, in recent years, it has intensified its destabilization campaigns against several Western European states, utilizing drones, cyberattacks, naval assets, as well as elimination operations and assassination attempts on European figures and former spies who have taken refuge in the EU and the UK. 

These are not mere incidents in the grey zone. They are hostile acts that, in certain cases, can approach the threshold of war. Refusing to name them can convey the perception that these acts have not yet crossed the political barrier that would trigger a harsher response. Remaining silent to avoid aggravating the situation is false prudence. 

On the other hand, the pragmatists are equally right. Demanding that NATO define public and unequivocal red lines for a hybrid confrontation ignores the fundamental principle of deterrence: a red line only has credibility if member states are prepared to respond, including, as a last resort, with military means, to a deliberate violation. 

If NATO declares that sabotaging critical telecommunications infrastructure constitutes an act of war, what happens the next morning? Responding with military force could trigger a wider conflict. Failing to respond forcefully exposes the red line as a bluff. That outcome would be a disaster, capable of severely compromising NATO's credibility. Strategic ambiguity does not reveal weakness; it provides the flexibility to decide on the most appropriate retaliation and leaves the adversary in doubt as to the limits they must not cross. 

A Path Forward for the Summit 

A strong declaration from the 32 member states—that clandestine operations constitute hostile actions against the security of the allies—will give governments the political mandate to mobilize resources, reinforce infrastructure, and explain to citizens what is at stake. This must reaffirm, in the same breath, that NATO seeks nothing from Russia other than respect for the sovereignty and security of its members. 

The summit will have to focus on three essential political strands: 

1. Strengthening cooperation within NATO.

2. Intensifying the support of the various allied states for Ukraine.

3. Having the courage to take diplomatic initiatives that serve peace. 

At the operational level, certain lines require equal attention: 

- Refining analytical capacity, based on unreserved cooperation with allied intelligence services.

- Increasing maritime surveillance.

- Protecting critical infrastructure.

- Investing substantially in the cyber domain. 

None of this requires NATO to become something different from what it has always been. The Alliance does not need rigid red lines, nor proclamations that force it to choose between escalation and a loss of credibility. It must state, in no uncertain terms, that it does not seek to encircle Russia or threaten its security, but that it will not accept intimidation, sabotage, or subversion as normal instruments of relations between states. Its strength will lie in that equilibrium: political firmness, strategic prudence, and a determination that the adversary can neither measure nor anticipate.