The Bear Meets the Big Brother, the Dragon: Putin and Xi Jinping

 

An Alliance Between Unequal Powers: Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin

Victor Ângelo

Op-ed published in Diário de Notícias on 22/05/2026

 

When Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin meet—as happened once again this week—we witness a highly choreographed geopolitical display, rich in symbolism. They speak of a multipolar world and toast to a ‘new era’ and a ‘no limits’ partnership—the celebrated expression coined during their February 2022 meeting, just days before the launch of Russia’s inadmissible war of aggression against Ukraine. The messages they seek to send to the rest of the planet, particularly to Europe, are highly explicit, and they were repeated this week. First, that China and Russia are bound by an unbreakable alliance, indispensable for constructing the new world order they deem necessary. Second, they intend for this order to differ from the one established in recent decades by the Western world, especially since the era of the Reagan-Thatcher tandem and the period following the end of the Cold War. We are clearly facing a Sino-Russian project to reorder international relations in their own fashion.

 

It is, however, a flawed partnership, an unequal relationship—from an economic perspective, for instance. China is undisputedly the centre of gravity and the primary axis of its neighbour’s economy. It now accounts for between 40% and 45% of Russian imports. This is an overwhelming dependency. Conversely, barely more than 4% of China’s foreign trade is conducted with Russia, according to Bloomberg data. This is an insignificant percentage when compared to the volume of trade between China and other economies, be they the US, the EU, or ASEAN. Furthermore, the Chinese currency, the yuan, is the predominant tender in Moscow’s financial market. The yuan has virtually replaced the majority of transactions previously executed in US dollars, with the remainder settled in roubles.

 

Political inequality compounds this economic disparity. This is the most significant dimension of the asymmetry between the two countries. A tacit hierarchy exists that places the Chinese president at the top. One might say that Xi envisions, proposes, and makes things happen. Putin follows when he can, provided he sees that it does not jeopardise his domestic political image, where he still dictates the law.

 

Xi Jinping intends to be the architect of the new international structure, built with calmness, firmness, and time. He plays without unnecessary haste. He is entirely convinced that, before long, his country will be a rival on an equal footing with the US, and that global challenges will place China at the heart of multilateral responses.

 

Vladimir Putin, for his part, mistook pompous parades for military capability. He ended up bogged down in an intensely draining war, which he made the blunder of initiating with utter disregard for international law and with armed forces that recall the highly doubtful legend of Potemkin villages. Putin continues to believe he is a strategic giant, when in reality Ukraine is laying bare his feet of clay. Putin is likewise a stain on Xi Jinping’s international reputation. Xi finds himself forced to defend him in various political arenas, even though he knows this entails reputational costs for his regime, which wishes to be seen as the champion of peace and multilateral cooperation.

 

Xi’s strategic objectives are essentially twofold. On the one hand, to ensure Chinese dominance in the region defined by the Pacific and Indian Oceans. On the other, to gain the lead regarding the technologies that are shaping the twenty-first century. Achieving this requires time, and it requires China’s main rival powers to remain distracted by other matters.

 

This is where Putin’s political blunders prove to be of immeasurable value to China. Though it is seldom considered, the endless war in Ukraine keeps a significant portion of the strategic capabilities, military resources, and diplomatic attention of China’s main rivals far removed from potential criticism and measures against Chinese domestic and foreign policy. Every crisis meeting at NATO headquarters or in EU capitals represents a tactical distraction for Washington and creates rifts between Europe and the US. All of this allows President Xi to continue the process of economically and politically subordinating Russia, while modernising the People’s Liberation Army and shielding China’s economy against potential Western sanctions. Putin is thus an excellent political distraction.

 

Xi’s greatest anxiety regarding Russia concerns the martial philosophy that continues to prevail in the Kremlin. When Moscow hinted that it might use tactical nuclear weapons in Ukraine, it was Beijing—and not just Washington—that also silently but firmly drew a red line before Putin’s intentions. Xi needs a prolonged and draining conflict that bleeds the West, but he cannot afford to permit or promote an apocalyptic escalation that would destroy the global order upon which China’s rise depends.

 

Consequently, Xi’s support for Russia has strict, albeit undeclared, limits. That is the reality, despite public assertions. China buys Russian oil and gas at a discount, in yuan, and within limits—there was no agreement on the new trans-Siberian pipeline, which deeply disappointed the delegation from Moscow. And it supplies Moscow with ‘dual-use’ goods, including military-applicable items like microchips and drone components. It does so discreetly, but in vast quantities. It denies, however, any accusation of direct lethal military aid. Why? To avoid secondary Western sanctions against its economy, which relies heavily on foreign trade. The ‘architect’ knows that a direct confrontation with the West at this juncture would derail his ambitions and imperil the authority of the Chinese Communist Party.

 

The essential thing is to understand the true nature of the relationship between Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin and to respond to the serious risks it poses. Note the various agreements signed during this visit—for example, in the fields of atomic energy, space, and AI. These matters do not allow for simplistic analysis. China and Russia do not represent the same type of challenge. Yet, despite the asymmetries, a dangerous strategic convergence exists between both regimes.

Trump goes to Xi Jinping 's empire: what for?

 Trump's visit to China

(Published in Portuguese in Diário de Notícias - Lisbon - on 15 May 2026)

When the Air Force One touches down in Beijing, Donald Trump imagines that a brief two-day visit to China will be consecrated by the American electorate as a personal triumph. Yet, the reality that matters is entirely different. Beneath the handshakes and the protocol-driven photographs with Xi Jinping, a contemporary version of Thucydides’s Trap is taking shape: the clash between two superpowers—one established, attempting to preserve its hegemony (the US), and the other, emerging, in rapid ascension (China).

For Trump, the purpose of this summit is neither to redraw the security architecture of the twenty-first century nor to speak of peace, harmony, or global challenges—themes that rarely find a place on his agenda. What he seeks is a tactical spectacle. Brief and marketable as a victory, ahead of the midterm elections in November.

The American president seeks to return with results that are easy to communicate: signs of commercial detente (commitments to additional purchases in sectors relevant to the MAGA electorate) and, ideally, some Chinese gesture that reduces the risk of disruption in the Strait of Hormuz. Image management is an integral part of his strategy. The domestic media landscape in the United States has grown increasingly asymmetric: influential segments amplify partisan narratives, shaped by commercial incentives and the polarization surrounding Trump.

The problem with this transactional approach is that it exposes the true American weakness: an obsession with the short term erodes trust and alienates allies. Taipei watches, anxious, at the prospect of its security being converted into a bargaining chip. In Europe, the visit is interpreted as an indicator of volatility in Washington’s strategic orientation. This tends to reinforce debates regarding European defense autonomy, economic resilience, and technology policy.

On the other side of the table, Xi Jinping moves his chess pieces without haste and free from the constraints of electoral calendars. Beijing’s immediate interest is simple: to manage Trump’s unpredictability, to employ personal diplomacy to extract rhetorical concessions over Taiwan, and, above all, to buy time. The Chinese leadership operates on the assumption that the long-term trend—in industrial capacity, technology, semiconductors, Artificial Intelligence, and external influence—favours them, and therefore privileges strategies of attrition and the extension of the decision-making horizon.

At first glance, China appears armed with trumps that are difficult to counter. A centralized political system allows it to define priorities and mobilize resources across a multi-year horizon—as seen in the Five-Year Plans—thereby reducing coordination costs in strategic sectors. The alignment with Moscow, described by both leaderships as a partnership "without limits", grants Beijing additional leeway in matters of energy, diplomacy, trade routes, and security, though it exposes it to reputational risks and secondary sanctions. Internationally, China seeks to consolidate its influence and power among the countries of the Global South through the financing of infrastructure and logistics chains (the Belt and Road Initiative) and via expanding forums such as the BRICS.

Yet, this appearance of invincibility conceals vulnerabilities capable of altering the course of events. What Beijing projects to the outside world as "cohesion and stability" is, more often than not, an internal peace imposed by force and by an apparatus of surveillance and repression. China is far from a monolith: it is a mosaic of 1.41 billion people, 56 ethnic groups, hundreds of languages, and tens of millions of citizens belonging to minorities. In vital regions such as Xinjiang (with over 26 million inhabitants) and Tibet (around 3.6 million), forced assimilation replaces political autonomy—and tensions do not disappear; they accumulate.

The true threat to the regime dominated by the Communist Party may not come from the peripheries, but from the center: From the rising expectations of the Han majority in the megacities; From frustrated, highly educated youth struggling within an increasingly competitive society; And from the persistent asymmetry between hyper-technological coastal cities—such as Shanghai and Shenzhen—and the deeply traditional rural interior living on the brink of subsistence. 

In systems with mechanisms of accountability and mediation—a relatively free press, civic associations, room for public demonstrations, independent courts, and competitive elections—dissent tends to be channeled and absorbed through institutional avenues, reducing the probability of abrupt ruptures.

In an autocratic regime, where public expression is limited and the correction of policies depends chiefly upon those who lead the Party-State, errors can accumulate for longer and become more difficult to reverse. When economic, demographic, or legitimacy shocks converge, the management of social conflicts becomes more demanding, and the cost of maintaining stability rises.

In strategic terms, both China and the United States possess incentives for a minimum understanding to reduce potential conflicts: managing crises before they escalate, avoiding military incidents at sea and in the air, and stabilizing expectations within technological, digital, and commercial competition.

These are the themes that Trump and Xi ought to discuss—not as gestures of goodwill, but to construct an architecture of mutual restraint. Such an arrangement does not erase the rivalry. It is, however, the only way to prevent a miscalculation from ruining everything. Thucydides’s Trap could then pass definitively into history.

The Straits and the competition between USA and China

 

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Hormuz, Malacca, and the Straits of Power

By Victor Ângelo

International Security Advisor. Former UN Under-Secretary-General

Published: 30 April 2026

There are places on maps that, in times of peace, seem like mere details—curiosities. Yet, when rivalry between great powers intensifies, these details become strategic. The Straits of Malacca and Hormuz, Bab el-Mandeb (the Red Sea), and the Indian Ocean routes are now at the heart of global politics: it is through these passages that the economy flows—and it is there that Washington and Beijing test the limits of their competition.

American foreign policy has revealed an emerging pattern: an increasing focus on so-called ‘choke points’—the maritime passages through which energy, commodities, and influence circulate. Control over these points projects both force and deterrence. Consider Hormuz. The figures speak for themselves: the International Energy Agency (IEA) estimates that, by 2025, over 20 million barrels per day will have transited the strait—approximately a quarter of the world’s maritime oil trade.

For the United States, a robust presence in these corridors is not merely about maritime security; it is also a means of protecting its vital interests in the event of a severe crisis.

This is why the ‘Malacca Dilemma’ remains a strategic obsession for Beijing. China depends heavily on maritime routes that traverse this narrow, congested corridor, which is difficult to replace without colossal costs—precisely the type of vulnerability any state seeks to reduce when anticipating a prolonged period of competition.

The Strait of Malacca, though exceedingly long, is only a few kilometres wide at its narrowest point. From an energy perspective, the US Energy Information Administration (EIA) classifies Malacca as a vital choke point: in the first half of 2025, an estimated 23 million barrels of oil per day will have transited the strait. It is this volume—and the immense difficulty of diverting shipping to more expensive alternatives through more treacherous seas south of Indonesia (the Sunda and Lombok waters)—that makes Malacca a national security priority for China and several Asian states.

And it is not merely energy. It is also the container ships, carrying every conceivable type of cargo, and the infrastructure of telecommunications. The Strait of Malacca is a critical corridor for digital connectivity, possessing a high density of subsea cables that link Asia to a significant portion of the globe.

In this context, the agreements and joint exercises between the United States and Indonesia gain a special significance. For Washington, Indonesia is crucial because it sits at the hinge between the Pacific and the Indian Oceans, and its territory defines one side of the strait. For Jakarta, cooperation with the US is useful: it bolsters capabilities, signals autonomy, and helps manage frictions with China—including recurring incidents in border waters—without abandoning its tradition of non-alignment.

The Chinese response to all of this has been simultaneously maritime and continental.

The growth of the Chinese Navy—now the world’s largest by number of vessels—follows a simple logic: if trade is conducted primarily by sea, then national security must also be sea-based. Hence the investment in the naval sector, in the capacity to operate further from its shores, and in port partnerships that, even when presented as commercial, may have military utility in crisis scenarios.

The ‘New Silk Road’ reinforces this strategy: it multiplies connections with the outside world. Projects such as the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor, logistical links through Myanmar, and the pursuit of navigation through the Arctic in coordination with Russia seek to create exits that circumvent Malacca and reduce exposure to the control of rival powers. Furthermore, on the technological level, Chinese dominance in critical segments of certain value chains—for example, in the processing and refining of rare earths, where it remains globally dominant—functions as an instrument of leverage to prevent extreme situations and the risk of shocks.

The result is a rivalry that leaves less and less room for naivety—and which turns the straits into the strongholds of the geopolitical chessboard.

There is, however, a global legal framework worth recalling: the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS) and the principle of freedom of navigation. This framework regulates transit through straits used for international navigation and limits arbitrary interference. Rules do not eliminate rivalry, but they increase the political, economic, and reputational costs when restrictions lack acceptable justification.

Summit diplomacy, however theatrical it may seem, matters. The White House has signalled that Donald Trump is slated to visit Beijing in mid-May to meet with Xi Jinping. The meeting will not change geography, but it may help clarify ‘red lines’ and reduce the risk of misunderstandings in an environment where the temptation to ‘test’ the other to the limit is constant. Trump’s trip serves as a test: not of the end of competition, but of the will to define its boundaries. In an interdependent world, the stability of routes is a common interest—even when the rivalry is structural.

If Washington and Beijing transform the straits—and commercial interdependencies—into instruments of permanent pressure, international relations will enter a far more dangerous phase: that of generalised insecurity. In such a scenario, the concern with deterrence becomes a daily occurrence. A miscalculation will, inevitably, be more likely and certainly catastrophic.

USA and Iran, a very serious conflict: what's next?

A Profoundly Perilous and Complex Confrontation: The USA and Iran

Victor Ângelo

Are we on the precipice of an armed conflict between Iran and the United States? This remains one of the pre-eminent questions of our days. The answer is neither simple nor definitive. Indeed, the risk may be considered imminent. However, the costs for both parties—and for the world at large—would be so catastrophic that it is both necessary and urgent to reach an accommodation.

Mediation ought to be undertaken by regional states or the more influential members of the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation—some closer to the Sunni interpretation of Islam, others to the Shia practice—provided they are acceptable to both Washington and Tehran. Ideally, the responsibility would have been vested in the UN or India. Regrettably, neither the UN Secretary-General nor the Prime Minister of India possesses sufficient credibility in this instance. Narendra Modi squandered his political capital regarding the Middle East the moment he chose to anchor his domestic power in the marginalisation of India’s Muslim citizens. He is an autocrat who plays the ethnic card and resorts to populism to retain his grip on power.

As for António Guterres, he carries no weight in Washington and is perceived in Tehran as an outsider—a Westerner approaching the twilight of his tenure. He is regarded as a Secretary-General for humanitarian causes and little else. For many, he lacks the political stature and the requisite "vigour" for conflict resolution. The fact remains that Guterres has been plagued by misfortune. Enduring two Trump administrations, each more deleterious than the last, is a singular stroke of ill luck.

The reality is that we are witnessing a formidable military escalation in the Persian Gulf, one of the world’s most sensitive regions. This escalation could trigger an open war at any moment. This is a dispute of immense complexity. The nuclear carrier USS Abraham Lincoln is currently in the Persian Gulf, accompanied by its strike group, bristling with hundreds of Tomahawk missiles and supported by elite fighter jets, satellites, and surveillance drones that monitor every movement within Iran and its territorial waters. Furthermore, the US maintains tens of thousands of personnel across five bases in the region. They also conduct constant policing of the Strait of Hormuz—a vital artery for oil supplies, primarily to China, but also to India. Should either the US or Iran open a front in this transit zone, they would impede, or at the very least disrupt, the daily passage of approximately 20% of the world’s trade in oil and liquefied natural gas. The economic fallout of such a confrontation would be dramatic, both for the region and for the economies of China and numerous other nations.

Few stand to benefit from such a crisis. It is, however, difficult to believe that a deployment of American forces of such formidable proportions has merely deterrent objectives, regardless of protestations to the contrary.

On the Iranian side, military capacity is significantly inferior to that of the Americans. Currently, following the setbacks of its allies in Lebanon (Hezbollah), Syria, Yemen, and Gaza, its strategic strength rests primarily on three pillars: its vast and diversified ballistic arsenal, the mass production of drones, and the ability to sever navigation in the Strait of Hormuz and the Bab el-Mandeb—the maritime bottleneck connecting the Red Sea to the Gulf of Aden and, by extension, the Indian Ocean. Bab el-Mandeb is a vital route through which a significant portion of global trade traditionally flows.

In truth, when considering Iran, one must account for a fourth pillar: the religious fanaticism and the ferocious dictatorship that underpin Iranian political power. It was this volatile mixture of fanaticism and disregard for human life that formed the backbone of the barbaric repression against the populace last month, resulting in an incalculable number of victims. The conclusion is simple: by the standards of modern humanism, the Ayatollahs’ regime resides in a world of five centuries ago—the heart of the Dark Ages. It cannot be countenanced in this day and age, however much one respects national sovereignty or the internal politics of a state. This is a message Guterres ought to convey to Xi Jinping, reminding him that the sovereignty of any state begins with respect for the dignity and human rights of its citizens.

Xi Jinping might, indeed, begin by revisiting the principles adopted by Deng Xiaoping following the death of Mao Zedong in 1976. Deng was the architect of "socialism with Chinese characteristics"—the leader who modernised China, liberalised the economy beyond state control, invited foreign investment, and ended the agriculture of famine. Xi Jinping, however, wagers primarily on absolute power, reminiscent of the Maoist era, coupled with unbridled economic capitalism and a personal brand of rivalry and competition against the US. He is above all preoccupied with Chinese supremacy in military, technological, economic, and geopolitical spheres. Consequently, he errs by aligning himself with powers that view geopolitics through an archaic lens—notably Iran and Russia, another staunch ally of the theocratic dictatorship in Tehran. Xi views the future as a zero-sum rivalry between his nation and the United States, proving that he regards global challenges and international solidarity merely as pawns in China’s international geopolitical gambit.

If Iran can only rely on allies of such a kind, the answer to my initial question must be: let there be resolve, extensive diplomacy, and an absolute respect for citizens and for peace.

President Trump in Asia: Power, Adulation, and the Rearrangement of Forces in a New Era

My geopolitical calendar differs from the conventional one. The twentieth century era, marked by two major wars, the Cold War, decolonisation, and large-scale industrial expansion, ended in 1991 with the collapse of the Soviet Union. That is when, in my reading of history, the twenty-first century began. We entered a period of economic globalisation, multilateralism and international cooperation, the development of democratic regimes, and a focus on sustainability and major global challenges.

My calendar also tells me that the twenty-first century was rather short. It seems to have ended with Russia’s brutal invasion of Ukraine in February 2022. Times changed then, with a return to former practices, the undisguised use of military and economic force as determining factors in international relations. At the same time, we have witnessed an accelerated race towards the future, driven by technological transformations and the digital revolution. The concern about inequalities between peoples has given way to insensitivity regarding development issues.

We are now in a strange and ambiguous period of universal history: we live simultaneously in the past and the future. We are connected by thousands of fibre optic cables and an increasing number of satellites. Global information is instantaneous, but it seems we are rapidly returning to old nationalist ideas, to every man for himself.

Indifference has become a distinctive feature of this new era. The excess of data ends up anaesthetising us. We become oblivious to what happens outside our immediate circle. This apathy makes it easier for populist, extremist political leaders to manipulate public opinion, using digital platforms to influence citizens’ behaviour. Paradoxically or not, the manipulators themselves end up listening to their own clamour and seem to believe the narratives they create. Thus, they fuel the cycle of misinformation and collective detachment from the major issues that remain unresolved.

In this context, commitment to critical thinking becomes fundamental. It is necessary to know how to question, analyse and interpret the intentions hidden in messages. Developing the ability to ask pertinent questions and assess the credibility of sources is essential to avoid manipulation and conformity. As Socrates argued 2,500 years ago, exploring alternative ideas and challenging established opinions is politically indispensable in a democracy.

This reflection originated from a recent comment made on one of our television channels about the new Russian nuclear-powered cruise missile, known in Russia as 9M730 Burevestnik and in NATO as Skyfall. Vladimir Putin announced that on 21 October the missile had been launched and that the test was a success. He added that the device had been airborne for 15 hours, covering more than 14,000 kilometres, and could therefore be directed at a target in the most remote corner of the planet. He also emphasised that no other state has the capability to intercept it. In other words, Russia was claiming to have taken another step towards consolidating its place at the forefront of the new era, the era of confrontation and force.

The commentator, a person I respect, said that Trump had “blithely” ignored Putin’s announcement. The reason for Trump’s indifference was missing.

I think it is relevant to try to understand this apparent disdain. I say apparent because yesterday the American president ordered his armed forces to begin a programme of nuclear tests, something that had not happened for more than three decades.

In my analysis, Trump, who has spent the week in Asia, is neither afraid of Russia nor particularly interested in Putin, except regarding the Russian war against Ukraine. He wants to add peace in Ukraine to his list of supposed peace treaties, always with the obsession for the Nobel Peace Prize. At this moment, today, Friday, he is convinced that Putin is the main obstacle to a ceasefire. Saturday, we shall see.

Apart from that, it has become clear in recent days that the absolute priority of the US administration is rivalry with China. His tour of Asia sought to demonstrate the influence and power of the United States in a region increasingly close to China. That is why Trump was in Malaysia, at the ASEAN summit, then in Japan, South Korea, and showed moderation at yesterday’s meeting with the Chinese president, Xi Jinping. In addition to trade agreements, several of them linked to cutting-edge technologies that will define the coming years, the success of Trump’s presence in Asia and the adulation he received reinforced his illusion that the US has decisive influence in that part of the globe. Putin’s missile, however powerful it may be—something yet to be confirmed—does not matter to Trump nor distract him, as he considers the fundamental priority to be relations with Asia, in the context of competition with China.

He makes, I believe, a superficial and mistaken reading of reality. He needs to understand that this new century, which began in 2022, seems to be heading towards the de facto consolidation of the strategic alliance between China and Russia.

Are you talking about the UN reform?

 The future demands political courage, strategic vision, and a UN that is respected

Victor Ângelo

Eighty years ago, on October 24, 1945, the UN Charter came into force, having been approved four months earlier in San Francisco. That is why this date in October is celebrated annually as United Nations Day.

I am referring to the political part of the organization. The specialized agencies, such as FAO, UNESCO, WHO, ILO, and all the others, emerged at different times. Each has its own history, as well as its own specific governance structures, independent of the authority of the Secretary-General (SG). Over time, special programs and funds also emerged, such as WFP, UNDP, UNICEF, UNFPA, and several others—a long list of acronyms. These programs and funds are headed by individuals chosen by the SG, mostly in response to pressure from some of the more powerful states. They do not belong to the same division that includes the specialized agencies.

The system is in crisis. But if the UN did not exist, it would be necessary, even in today’s confusing times, to invent it. This is a frequently repeated idea.

The United Nations exists; there is no need for any creative exercise. But President Xi Jinping, who also contributes to the marginalization of the UN and seeks to take advantage of it, now proposes an alternative system, inspired by his vision of China’s central role in the world. He had already proposed a Global Development Initiative, another on international security, and yet another called the Global Civilization Initiative. At the recent Shanghai Cooperation Organization summit, which took place less than two months ago, Xi completed the picture and proposed the missing initiative, on global governance. That is, on the principles that should regulate relations between states. When I say he completed the picture, I am referring to four fundamental pillars of the UN: development, peace, human dignity, and now, the political one.

Xi’s proposal on international governance is little more than a restatement of the content of the United Nations Charter in other words. The five basic principles he proposes for global governance are contained in the Charter. Xi refers to respect for the sovereignty of each state, including retrograde and dictatorial regimes; subordination to the rules of international law; defense of multilateralism and the role of the United Nations—something that China itself does not practice when it is inconvenient; the value of people, who should be the main concern in political matters; and the need to achieve concrete results in solving global problems. There is certainly no significant disagreement with these ideas. The Chinese initiative is basically a political maneuver.

The problem is that these principles are often ignored by several member states, starting with the great powers such as China, Russia, and the United States of America, and by states outside international law, such as North Korea or Israel.

Thus, the United Nations ceases to be the central forum for international relations, discussion, and resolution of major conflicts. The blame lies with certain member states, and in particular, with the malfunctioning and lack of representativeness of the Security Council (SC). The UN has been completely marginalized in the cases of Ukraine, Gaza, Sudan, Myanmar, the end of the embargo against Cuba, and so on. However, the real problem lies with the SC: without a Council that represents the realities of the 21st century, the political UN will continue to live in the past and be doomed to decline.

The plan that President Donald Trump had adopted regarding the dramatic crisis in Gaza—a vague plan that is practically impossible to carry out in its key points—does not mention the UN or assign it any kind of responsibility. Even if it is discussed in the Security Council, which is not yet confirmed, the various points imposed by President Trump do not take into account the experience accumulated in similar situations. It is a plan that was not negotiated by the interested parties—Israel and Palestine—that is, it did not follow a fundamental procedure in peacebuilding. I fear that it will achieve little beyond the release of the remaining living hostages, the freedom of a group of prisoners held in Israel, and a temporary and insufficient humanitarian opening in the face of the absolutely basic needs of the civilians still surviving in Gaza.

The SG is trying to implement a process of organizational reform, which he called UN80. In reality, the effort is little more than a bureaucratic response to the organization’s financial crisis. Instead of insisting, day and night, that delinquent states pay their dues and mandatory contributions on time, and clearly defining what justifies the existence of the UN, the SG chose the option that goes over better with certain leaders and their finance ministries: eliminate jobs, reduce the scope and functioning of field missions, transfer services to cities where the cost of living is lower than in New York or Geneva. The refrain is “do less with fewer resources.” In fact, it should be another: “making peace and promoting human dignity require everyone’s contribution and respect for the UN’s courageous voice.” That assertion is the only one consistent with the defense of international cooperation and multilateralism. That is what I learned and applied over decades.