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.

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.

USA and Iran: some comments about a very complex negotiation

 

Power Without Credibility: The Improvisations of the US–Iran Crisis

Victor Ângelo

International Security Advisor. Former UN Under-Secretary-General Published on: 26 Jun 2026

Despite their political complexity, contradictions, and turbulence, the ongoing negotiations between the United States and Iran can be assessed positively. Following months of direct combat, a memorandum of understanding has been signed and a framework for a ceasefire established, with Pakistan and Qatar now acting as mediators. However, the crisis remains unresolved, and an objective analysis of its various dimensions reveals important lessons for international relations.

When the US initiated attacks against Iran in close coordination with Israel, they expected a swift resolution and the total surrender of their adversary. The outcome was quite different. Iran retaliated, disrupted traffic in the Strait of Hormuz, and demonstrated that it would not be defeated without imposing significant costs upon its attackers. The elimination of the Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, at the onset of the conflict did not precipitate the collapse of the Iranian regime that Washington had anticipated. The tactic of 'decapitating' the leadership proved fallible, contradicting certain military doctrines. Iran appointed a new leadership and maintained its capacity for resistance.

This demonstrated a failure on the American side to accurately evaluate the context, resulting in a severe impact on the political credibility of the White House—something far more difficult to rebuild than new arsenals. Credibility is not measured by the scale of military offensives. It stems from political coherence, adherence to commitments, and the trust a power inspires—above all, amongst its allies.

The withdrawal of the US from the JCPOA (the 2015 nuclear agreement), the chaotic departure from Afghanistan, and the erosion of pacts in Iraq were not isolated acts. To these, one might add the ambiguities surrounding aid to Ukraine and the future of NATO. All of this forms a pattern—and it is these patterns that other governments study when deciding upon the future of their defence alliances. For the Gulf States, the 2026 conflict confirmed the trend: an alliance with Washington is a matter of convenience and circumstance. These nations are now seeking to diversify their partnerships in order to reduce their strategic exposure. This is the direct consequence of a loss of trust.

The negotiations do not aim to secure a peace treaty. At best, the ongoing discussions will serve to maintain the status quo. For many, this will be perceived as a victory for Iranian strategy. In that event, the fear that kept numerous countries aligned with Washington will be weakened. When governments observe that a superpower presenting itself as the guarantor of their security cannot fully dictate its will to a country such as Iran, they may conclude that the time has come to seek alternatives.

The recent ASEAN summit with Russia in Kazan exemplified this shift. ASEAN member states—including Timor-Leste—signed a comprehensive cooperation plan with Russia extending to 2030, encompassing the realm of regional security. Despite reservations regarding Moscow’s conduct in Ukraine, Southeast Asian nations refused to accept the Western narrative that portrays Russia as a pariah state. The message emanating from ASEAN was unequivocal: they do not intend to subordinate their interests to a Western-led order that they view as increasingly incoherent and self-centred. When the conflict closed the Strait of Hormuz, Asian nations suffered genuine economic losses—and their interests were ignored by Washington.

For China, the lessons are equally apparent. Should Beijing employ its power in the South China Sea or Taiwan in a manner perceived by its neighbours as threatening, it could provoke a reaction akin to that faced by the US—allies becoming increasingly sceptical and reticent. China, much like the US, tends to conflate dominance with leadership. However, dominance imposes submission; leadership generates commitment. And it is commitment that endures.

Russia has realized to its own cost, and by observing the US in the Middle East, that a great power entangled in a protracted conflict suffers reputational damage and loses allies. To counter isolation and preserve influence, it is adopting various initiatives and attempting to forge new alliances—the Kazan summit and operations in the Sahel being prime examples.

There exists, however, an institution created precisely to limit instability and promote cooperation: the United Nations. The UN was born from the recognition that lasting peace cannot depend upon a single power acting of its own accord. A common framework is required—with shared rules, obligations, and consequences. A framework that establishes boundaries and allows the weakest to rely on something more solid than the goodwill and volatile moods of the powerful.

Military actions outside the rules of International Law do not merely damage the reputation of their perpetrators: they undermine the very system intended to ensure peace. Every time a power acts as though its highly subjective reading of the facts overrides universal norms, it weakens the institution upon which everyone relies.

Revitalizing the United Nations is not an idealistic ambition; it is a strategic necessity. It is vital to reiterate this truth. A UN with genuine authority to mediate conflicts and hold great powers accountable is not an obstacle to legitimate interests—it is the only reliable substitute for the continuous cycle of trust erosion that the crisis of 2026 has once again highlighted.

The verdict that emerges for those who observe international relations with a critical and independent mind is this: power exercised without principles, in an improvised manner, is like a disoriented weather vane, incapable of indicating the true course. A peace imposed by force and economic pressure is no peace at all—it is merely an interlude until the next confrontation. Lasting peace rests upon the recognition that all States, however diverse, strong or weak they may be, possess an equal right to security and sovereignty, and that the world must be governed by law, not by the will of the strongest.

The Straits and the competition between USA and China

 

---

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.

Some notes about the USA-Iran conflict and political praxis

 

USA-Iran: The Escalation, the Political Game, and the Possible Way Out

Victor Ângelo

International Security Adviser. Former UN Under-Secretary-General

Published on: 24 Apr 2026, 01:24

---

Constantly promoted by television channels and other media outlets—including digital platforms—the political spectacle functions like a fast-acting drug: it stimulates and excites, but it does not nourish; it promises a cure, but it does not treat the disease. Then, once the adrenaline subsides, the nagging question returns: where are the results? In everyday life, what remains are the exorbitant costs of fuel, healthcare, housing, and everything else, coupled with a growing sense of insecurity.

Once the effect wears off, everything remains the same—or worse. Over time, the circus ends up turning the spectator against the political actors, who fail to produce results, and against the commentators, who change their predictions as often as they change their shirts. This is politics made for the camera: the essential thing is to remain visible, at the centre of the arena.

When results fail to materialise, the strategy usually shifts: either a flurry of reforms is announced (in a "make-believe" style), or polarisation is increased and an enemy is sought to shoulder all the blame. The spectacle can mobilise crowds; it can even win elections. But it is concrete results that sustain power and, for a time, guarantee social peace.

Alternatively, to remain in power, the sinister leader attempts to destroy—or at least weaken—the institutions that sustain democratic regimes. If he is a fascist, he seeks to capture them, subjugate them, and render them entirely obedient. If he is a populist, the objective is more elementary: to reduce the capacity for oversight and scrutiny, to eliminate the checks and balances. From that point on, he rules as he pleases.

Nero, an erratic emperor, obsessively cultivated popular adulation and a cult of personality. He projected himself as a divine figure—from Apollo to the Sun—and ruled almost always in confrontation with the Senate. Trump cannot go quite so far in a system with the separation of powers and a pluralistic press. However, he has attempted to push the boundaries: minimising the role of Congress, pressuring the judiciary, attacking Democratic governors, and attempting to condition the media and social platforms. And, when convenient, he returns to the old expedient of external military operations: projecting force, dominating the news cycle, and galvanising fringes of the electorate.

Lacking results that improve the daily lives of families, he attacks the foundations of democracy and exploits nationalism: the USA is presented as the number one power on the international stage. All this is done as the electoral calendar tightens: the mid-term elections of 3 November are approaching. On that day, control of the Senate and the House of Representatives, several governorships, and other positions will be at stake. In practice, it is Donald Trump’s own power that is on the ballot. And the signs, in general, are not in his favour. Hence the urgency to contain—and, ideally, end—the escalation with Iran before it takes on a life of its own.

How will this escalation evolve, and what is the possible way out—a way out that avoids a significant electoral setback? This, I believe, is the central question, at a time when the possibility of a second round of contacts between the parties in Islamabad is once again circulating.

The answer—an agreement in Islamabad, yes or no?—does not depend on a single variable. I would summarise it as follows: Hormuz, the nuclear issue, the future of Iranian domestic politics, and, finally, the Israeli factor (with the particular weight of Netanyahu’s unacceptable hardline stance). A minimally viable understanding would have to lower the temperature in the Strait, stabilise the nuclear dossier, and create de-escalation channels that function away from the cameras and the major headlines—and not merely in communiqués for international consumption.

It would be a massive error if the authorities in Tehran concluded that it is not worth sitting down again with an American delegation. The list of Washington’s demands is known—maximalist, at the very limit of what Tehran can accept without losing domestic authority—and the Iranian position on each of these conditions is also known. Nevertheless, it is plausible that a meeting, even without formal "negotiations", could prevent a return to large-scale hostilities and allow other actors to continue the diplomatic work already underway—from China to Turkey, not forgetting Pakistan (a close ally of Beijing)—as well as in various Asian and Gulf countries.

China and Pakistan appear to be pressuring Tehran to ensure that this new round of contacts—it is too early to call them "negotiations"—happens now or in the near future.

Both sides would have something to gain from a limited agreement. For Washington, the advantage is obvious: halting an escalatory dynamic that, besides being dangerous on the ground, increases the risk of violations of International Humanitarian Law and further degrades its image in the region and Southeast Asia. And, let us be honest, the American image today is often viewed through two filters: the temptation of "muscle" and the automatic alignment with the Israeli leadership.

For Tehran, the calculation is equally clear: avoiding economic collapse and not falling into the trap of a war of reprisals against oil and natural gas installations—and against the ports of neighbouring Gulf states, where a single incident is enough to set everything ablaze.

This is a crisis that needs to be halted quickly. Under normal conditions, it would be a matter for the UN Security Council. We live, however, in a world where the great powers choose, à la carte, which precepts of International Law they take seriously.

Nevertheless, a combination of efforts of a new type—China, India, and the European Union, with a couple of countries from the South (Pakistan and Indonesia, for example)—could, in my view, make the difference where the UN is paralysed: maintaining permanent channels of contact, securing the acceptance of minimally verifiable ceasefire measures, and designing a pragmatic roadmap for Hormuz and the nuclear dossier. It is this type of diplomatic work that averts disasters. It is essential.