By Qamar Bashir
Press Secretary to the President (Rtd)
Former Press Minister, Embassy of Pakistan to France
Former Press Attache to Malaysia
Former MD, SRBC | Macomb, Michigan, USA
The United Nations General Assembly this year became the stage for one of the most dramatic reversals of American diplomatic influence in modern memory. Sponsored jointly by Saudi Arabia and France, the extraordinary emergency conference convened to debate Israel’s naked, blatant, and cruel aggression on Gaza and the West Bank. For decades, the United States, with its vast economic, military, and diplomatic clout, had compelled nations to fall in line—whether by promises of aid, threats of sanctions, or pressure through investment and trade. But this time, before the eyes of the world, Washington’s narrative failed.
The global mood was unmistakable. Israel’s policies of ethnic cleansing, occupation, and near-genocidal assault on the Palestinian people were denounced with unprecedented unity. Trump, standing at the podium, echoed Benjamin Netanyahu’s language of “security” and “self-defense,” but those words fell flat. What was once the unchallenged script for Western allies now sounded hollow, archaic, and dangerous. Far from rallying behind the United States, the overwhelming majority of nations broke away, defiantly recognizing Palestine as a sovereign state and announcing they would deal with it directly in bilateral and multilateral forums. This was not only a symbolic rebuke but also a practical shift: future investment, aid, and diplomatic engagement would now flow through Palestinian authorities, bypassing Israel.
What made the session even more remarkable was that not a single major leader spoke in favor of the United States or Israel. From Brazil’s Lula da Silva to Turkey’s Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, from Jordan’s King Abdullah II to France’s Emmanuel Macron, from Australia’s Anthony Albanese to Britain’s Keir Starmer, from Canada’s Mark Carney to South Africa’s Cyril Ramaphosa, and from South Korea’s Lee Jae-myung to leaders across Asia, Africa, and Latin America—the verdict was universal. Israel’s narrative, supported and promoted by Trump, had collapsed. The applause in the chamber made clear that the United States, for the first time in UN history, stood alone.
Trump did not hide his contempt. He lashed out not only at the leaders present but at the institution itself. Climate change, he declared, was the “greatest con job in history,” dismissing decades of scientific evidence on rising seas, melting glaciers, intensifying hurricanes, and the planetary threat of unchecked emissions. Gasps rippled through the assembly as he accused the UN of peddling fear and lies. He mocked international agreements on climate, insisting that America would burn coal, drill oil, and expand nuclear power without apology. To many, it was more than denial—it was an open invitation to environmental catastrophe.
Nor did Trump stop at Gaza or climate change. He derided the United Nations as useless, ineffective, and irrelevant. He promised to pull U.S. representatives out of key agencies, and he vowed to slash funding—funding that, for decades, Washington had leveraged as its ultimate instrument of control. But instead of weakening the UN, Trump’s threat spurred others into action. Within hours, China, the European Union, and several emerging economies pledged to fill the financial gap, signaling that they would seize the leadership America was relinquishing. It was a symbolic passing of the torch: power, influence, and responsibility were no longer to be monopolized by Washington.
For Trump, the United States remained the indispensable nation. He warned that no country could survive without its blessing, invoking America’s military might and economic reach. Yet his words rang hollow against the backdrop of near-total isolation. In the past, weaker nations might have bowed to U.S. pressure, clinging to trade deals or fearing the loss of aid. But now, emboldened by collective strength, they no longer needed to. The unifying cause of Palestine’s recognition had given the world a new confidence. America’s threats sounded less like the dictates of a superpower and more like the frustrated cries of a bully whose grip was slipping.
This shift was not sudden; it was the culmination of years of resentment. Trump’s doctrine of “America First” had alienated allies, embittered partners, and emboldened adversaries. By weaponizing tariffs, sanctioning friend and foe alike, and dismantling international agreements, Washington had eroded the very leverage it once wielded. Countries that once tolerated American dominance out of necessity now saw little reason to comply. As one European delegate noted privately, “When the U.S. withdraws, others rush in. They may have forgotten, but we have not.”
The recognition of Palestine marked a decisive moment. It was not simply a diplomatic statement; it was a strategic realignment. Humanitarian aid would bypass Israel. Sanctions would be imposed directly on Tel Aviv. Military sales would be withheld. Pension funds and sovereign wealth investments would be divested. These measures, adopted with overwhelming consensus, marked the first time Israel faced comprehensive, global punitive action. For decades, its occupation had been shielded by U.S. vetoes and Western complicity. Now, the shield was shattered.
Trump, furious, accused the assembly of hypocrisy and cowardice. He mocked the idea of collective will, insisting that only the United States could lead. But the chamber had already moved on. Leaders from every continent had made clear that the era of American dictates was over. The collective will of nations would no longer bow to one country’s interest. The loudest message of the day was not in the words of presidents or prime ministers but in the silence that followed Trump’s speech—an emptiness where once applause would have echoed.
Perhaps the greatest irony is that America’s own power remains immense. Militarily, economically, technologically, it still towers over much of the world. But power without legitimacy is fragile. Influence without trust is fleeting. Respect cannot be commanded by force alone. Those nations that are weak or dependent may still flatter America out of fear, but those that are strong from within—confident, stable, and united—see no reason to follow. They do not mistake America’s bluster for leadership.
What was witnessed at the UNGA was not just a rejection of a speech; it was the exposure of a failing doctrine. The belief that America could dictate terms, ignore science, crush weaker nations, and shield Israel indefinitely has collapsed. The world has spoken, not in whispers but in unison, and it has chosen a different path—one of defiance against aggression, of recognition for Palestine, of collective resistance to unilateralism.
The United States, under Trump, has forgotten the wisdom of humility, gratitude, and forgiveness. A truly strong nation does not alienate the world; it unites it. A truly great power does not cling to dominance; it earns respect through fairness and justice. By abandoning these principles, America has not only lost leverage but has endangered its own place in history. The verdict from the UN General Assembly is clear: the world will no longer be dictated to by a single power, no matter how mighty. The future will be shaped not by one nation’s arrogance but by the collective will of many.
