• Erdogan’s renowned 'The world is bigger than five' is not just a critique of power concentration; it is challenging the structural inequities of the Security Council
  

The author is associate professor in Quds Studies at Social Sciences University of Ankara.

ISTANBUL

The 80th session of the United Nations General Assembly convenes under the shadow of its own legacy, a legacy stained by decades of failure to resolve what can be fittingly called "the Israeli problem." For as long as the UN has existed, Palestinians have suffered under occupation, displacement, and siege, while the institution founded to uphold peace and justice has remained paralyzed in its efforts to put an end to the injustices carried out by the Zionist state. Now, two years into the genocide unfolding in Gaza, both Palestinians and global citizens have lost faith in an organization that has watched, condemned, but has not acted. This year's assembly did not open with the usual diplomatic choreography, but with a chorus of moral urgency, where Gaza has taken center stage, from Secretary-General Antonio Guterres's stark indictment to the impassioned speeches of Turkish President Erdogan, emir of Qatar, and others, Gaza's suffering has become the defining issue of this year’s gathering, an indictment of global inaction and a test of the UN’s relevance in the 21st century.

Secretary-General Antonio Guterres set the tone for the General Assembly with a stark admission: Gaza's horrors, now entering a third monstrous year, are "the result of decisions that defy basic humanity." Despite two years of condemnation, the UN could not stop the genocide, the killing continues, famine deepens, and the ICJ's binding measures remain ignored. "Impunity is the mother of chaos," he laments, acknowledging that words alone are no longer enough. Gaza has exposed the UN’s paralysis and its failure to act; the UN has been unable to enforce its own charter. Without enforcement, without reform, and without courage, the UN stands complicit in the very suffering it was created to prevent.

This framing was echoed and amplified by leaders from across the Global South. Brazilian President Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva condemned the "ongoing genocide," and added "this massacre would not have happened without the complicity of those who could have prevented it," pointing not only to Israel but to the international system that has enabled its actions. His remarks reflect a growing sentiment: that silence and neutrality in the face of injustice is complicity.

Erdogan's searing speech: Humanity at its lowest point

Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan delivered what may be the most searing speech of the assembly. Holding up images of emaciated Palestinian children, he declared the genocide "the lowest point of humanity." His language was unflinching: genocide, massacre, barbarity. Erdogan's remarks were not just rhetorical flourishes, they were indictments. He accused the Zionist state of pursuing an expansionist policy under the guise of "The Promised Land," threatening regional peace as well as desecrating Jerusalem's holiness. He warned that this undermines the moral foundations of the international order.

South African President Cyril Ramaphosa addressed the General Assembly with measured resolve, declaring that Israel is committing genocide in Gaza, a charge now backed by the UN's own Commission of Inquiry. Even with South Africa's legal action at the ICJ, the killing continues, famine deepens and accountability remains elusive. "We have a duty to act," he insisted, invoking the Palestinian right to self-determination and condemning the erosion of the Security Council's credibility. He added: "We cannot and should not accept that members of this Organization continue to violate the Charter without consequence that we have all agreed to uphold." His words echoed a growing consensus: Gaza has shattered the illusion of UN credibility, and without enforcement, justice remains deferred.

Jordan's King Abdullah II added a sobering dimension to the debate. He warned that Israel's targeting of Al-Aqsa Mosque will "incite a religious war that would reach far beyond the region and lead to an all-out clash that no nation would be able to escape," and condemned the desecration of Muslim and Christian sites in Jerusalem. His speech underscored the spiritual stakes of the conflict and the danger of conflating ethnic cleansing and genocide with religious entitlement.

Qatar's Emir Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani denounced Israel for state terrorism following a treacherous attack in Doha targeting Hamas leaders. He charged that Israel negotiates while plotting assassinations, undermining any diplomatic efforts to end the genocide. His speech was a direct challenge to Israel's credibility as a negotiating partner and a rebuke to the international community's tolerance of duplicity. Drawing parallels with the anti-apartheid movement, Sheikh Tamim framed the global solidarity for Gaza as a moral uprising against systemic injustice.

Even US President Donald Trump, whose administration has been a staunch ally of Israel, called for the war to stop "immediately." Yet his remarks fell short of detailing any viable mechanisms. While he blamed Hamas for rejecting ceasefire offers, his own unequivocal support for Israel's military campaign has exacerbated the genocide. The contradiction of calling for peace while enabling war is no longer persuasive. The urgency of these speeches culminated in a high-level meeting convened by President Trump with leaders from Türkiye, Qatar, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Jordan, Indonesia, and the UAE. While the US president described the meeting as the "most important," it is imperative that the 57 Muslim states use their leverage over the US to put an end to the genocide.

The Security Council and 'the world is bigger than five'

The broader context of this assembly is the UN's own reckoning. The veto power of the Security Council’s permanent members has become a shield for impunity. Erdogan’s renowned "The world is bigger than five" is not just a critique of power concentration; it is challenging the structural inequities of the Security Council. His appeal for a system where "right makes might" rather than "might makes right" is not just a slogan, it is a blueprint for institutional renewal. If the UN cannot uphold its charter in Gaza, then the credibility of international law, the universality of human rights, and the promise of multilateralism all hinge on this moment. Gaza is not just a humanitarian crisis, it is a litmus test for the moral architecture of the world. The longer the UN delays decisive action, the more it risks becoming a relic of a bygone era, remembered more for its failures than its ideals.

The Gaza crisis has exposed the limits and double standards of the current international order. It has revealed the gap between the UN’s founding ideals and its operational realities. It has shown that condemnation without enforcement is hollow, and that diplomacy without justice is dangerous. As Erdogan concluded, those who "don’t take a stance against the barbarism in Gaza are complicit in this savagery." The silence of the powerful, the equivocation of allies, and the paralysis of institutions are no longer tenable. Gaza has become a mirror, reflecting not only the suffering of its people but the moral failures of the world.

Gaza has taken center stage; the question now is not whether the world sees Gaza. It does. The question is whether it will act. The images from Gaza of starving children, bombed hospitals, amputated toddlers, are not hidden. They are broadcast live, etched into the global conscience. If the UN cannot rise to this moment, then calls for reform will harden into demands for a new world order, one not built on selective justice and procedural paralysis. This is the inflection point. Visibility without action is betrayal and recognition without justice is complicity. The question is no longer whether the UN will speak. It is whether it will act, and whether it deserves to survive the moral test that Gaza has become. If these talks do not translate into protection, accountability, and peace, they will join the archive of well-intentioned but impotent rituals. And history will not forgive silence dressed as diplomacy.

*Opinions expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect Anadolu's editorial policy.