A chaotic week at the United Nations that proved American diplomacy isn’t what it was

This week’s stalled UN Security Council vote on sending aid to Gaza is a stark reminder of how badly the US has misjudged international public opinion on Israel’s war – and how its place in the international order has changed, says Mary Dejevsky

Members of the UN Security Council hold splinter meetings at the United Nations headquarters (Getty)

One of the most striking features of the current conflict in the Middle East is the way the United Nations is back – almost as though it had never been away.

International television is following proceedings from UN headquarters in New York. Terms that had become practically extinct are being bandied about again, almost as they were in the years after the 1967 Arab-Israeli war. We are back in the land of UN Security Council Resolution 343, the “two-state solution” that is enshrined in it, and the “Middle East peace process” that, for so long, seemed akin to a byword for diplomacy itself.

Except that the context, and the balance of advantage – or what, I seem to remember, used to be called the “correlation of forces” – are different. How different is underlined by the intensive backroom discussions that have been going on over the past week in New York in an effort to halt, or at least pause, the bloodshed in and around Gaza.

In sequences that, at times, seemed to echo the Brexit shenanigans in the UK parliament, formal votes were scheduled, called off and rescheduled. On Thursday afternoon New York time – late evening in Europe and night-time in the region whose fate hangs in the balance – the expected vote once again failed to happen.

The new delay, however, was accompanied by the clearest signals yet that the vote would indeed take place – and that when it did, the much-redrafted resolution was likely to pass. The precise wording may still change – although the very fact that diplomats and reporters are once again talking in public, as well as in private, about the finer points of a draft UN document suggests that it is well on its way.

The initial purpose of the resolution was, first, to speed up supplies of aid to Gaza in an attempt to alleviate the unfolding food and medical disaster and, second, to pave the way for a ceasefire. It would appear that the direct wording on both counts has been watered down to refer to “creating the conditions” for these things to come about, rather than dictating that they should.

Aid supplies are also to be overseen by a nominated official, rather than the actual UN. And yes, all these are dilutions; and yes, they are classic diplomatic devices to bring about agreement where otherwise there would be none.

The US was not only isolated, but what was seen as its unconditional solidarity with Israel had become a diplomatic liability on a scale the US could no longer afford

In this case, however, it can be argued that the specific wording is of less significance than the fact that the resolution is now in a form in which it is expected to pass – which would make it the first UN resolution to succeed in the more than two months since Hamas triggered the conflict on 7 October. And the reason it will pass – assuming there is no slip between cup and lip – is down to a change in the stance of just one country; and not just any country, but the United States.

In every past resolution calling for a cessation of hostilities, whether in the Security Council or the General Assembly, the US voted against, effectively applying its veto. In the General Assembly, it had been in an ever-shrinking minority; in the Security Council, it had been alone. Even the UK, generally its most stalwart ally in support of Israel, consistently abstained, in what marked quite a diplomatic departure.

Nor could the US change its stance without obtaining as much cover as possible from diplomatic language – hence all the drafting, redrafting and postponed votes in recent days. David Cameron’s call last weekend for a “sustainable ceasefire”, as opposed to a ceasefire per se, is one of the terminology changes that may have helped.

In the end, though, what we have here is a hugely significant, perhaps even epoch-making, shift on the part of the United States – and one largely forced upon it by the weight of international opinion. In the past, the US might have toughed it out, and braved all the Arab brickbats, to champion Israel. This time, however, the US was not only isolated but what was seen as its unconditional solidarity with Israel had become a diplomatic liability on a scale the US could no longer afford.

The massive marches by Palestinians and their supporters through Western capitals might have dwindled over the weeks, but the message has been heard loud and clear. A young and growing Muslim population in many European countries, and indeed the United States, a new generation that takes its news as much from the simplicities of social media as from anywhere else, and a rediscovery of the Palestinian cause after years in which it was effectively eclipsed by the US “war on terror”, have all helped to shift the centre of international gravity.

Even more important, perhaps, with the death and destruction in Gaza mounting by the day, the US administration found itself at odds not just with the preponderance of international opinion but with a growing section of opinion at home as well, less than a year out from a presidential election in which, as of now, Joe Biden is seeking a second term.

A move that was seen by the US as enhancing Israel’s security and potentially remaking the Middle East was seen by the Palestinians very differently

There was a time when the quest for peace in the Middle East was a set-piece of every US president’s ambitions. The dream was to stand on the White House lawn, as Bill Clinton did in 1993, facilitating a historic handshake between the leaders of Israel and the Palestinians. But Clinton was ultimately as incapable as anyone else of bringing that peace to fruition.

His final efforts, in the last weeks of his presidency, came to nothing. Very soon, the horrors of 9/11 were dictating Washington’s agenda abroad, and the Palestinian cause had slipped very far down the West’s list of priorities.

Donald Trump took a new approach, when he initiated what became the Abraham accords, to extend diplomatic recognition of Israel to the Gulf States and Saudi Arabia. A move that was seen by the US as enhancing Israel’s security and potentially remaking the Middle East was seen by the Palestinians very differently, with the anger and resentment it stirred surely contributing to the Hamas massacres of 7 October.

Those events, and Israel’s response, spelt the end of what remained of the US Middle East policy. Joe Biden set off on a desperate attempt at old-style shuttle diplomacy, which was almost embarrassing in its lack of effect. Since then, the US has had to accept that it is just one among many countries with an interest in the Middle East, and that its leverage with any or all of the states in the region – and that includes Israel – is limited.

This is partly how the UN has made its comeback. The UN was the original forum for attempts to settle the issue of Palestinian statehood and bring stable peace to the Middle East. That it remains so more than half a century on from the 1967 war is a measure of the failure hitherto. Until now, though, the United States could essentially propose and dispose in the UN, and apply its veto or walk away when it demurred.

How far that is no longer so has been illustrated this week. The efforts that Washington has applied to end its isolation over Gaza, whether in the negotiating rooms of the UN or the explanations it has offered in public, offer proof not only of how the US misjudged its early response to the war in Gaza, but of how its place in the international order has changed.