Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov presiding over a U.N. Security Council meeting about international peace, respect for the U.N. Charter, and the preservation of international law sounds like it would be an old episode of The Twilight Zone. Yet this is precisely what happened on Monday when Lavrov gaveled the U.N.'s top decision-making body into session and proceeded to lecture its members about the importance of upholding multilateralism.
Lavrov's monotonous, predictable speech was the culmination of a month in which Russia held the Security Council presidency, a largely ceremonial position that rotates between its members every month. The fact that Russia, a country that invaded a neighbor in the most bellicose acts of aggression this century, was allowed to hold court over a body tasked with "the maintenance of international peace and security" was the diplomatic equivalent of a bad joke. Sergiy Kyslytsya, Ukraine's permanent representative to the U.N., called the development an absurd reflection of the U.N.'s inability to address the world's biggest conflicts. U.S. ambassador to the U.N. Linda Thomas-Greenfield called Russia's presidency of the Security Council "an April Fool's joke." Others, like Senator Richard Blumenthal of Connecticut, were so disturbed by the prospect of Moscow sitting in the big chair that they called on the Security Council to bypass Russia's presidency altogether (never mind that Moscow would be able to veto such a scheme).
Amid the terrible optics of seeing a violator of the U.N. charter heading up the organization's most important panel, Russia's presidency was on balance immaterial and ineffective. What sessions the Russians did organize, like an informal briefing about the impact of the war on Ukraine's children by Maria Lvova-Belova (who is now wanted for war crimes by the International Criminal Court alongside Russian President Vladimir Putin) was greeted with walk-outs and protests.
The outrage surrounding Russia's Security Council presidency was always a bit over the top—not because Moscow being at the head of the table wasn't unpleasant but rather because the position was essentially a powerless one, more pomp and circumstance than authority. The word "president" ordinarily connotes descriptions like "power," "influence," and "prestige." But in U.N. parlance, "president" amounts to a glorified, unelected secretariat responsible for informing the U.N. secretary general about the Security Council's deliberations and ensuring the trains run on time during the normal course of business. At most, the presiding country gets to pick a unique theme for the month and organize additional meetings other members don't even have to attend.
Looking back on Russia's brief presidency, one has to question whether all of the freak outs and gyrations were worth the time and energy. On a moral level, the answer is yes. But in terms of practicality, the answer is most assuredly no. The most outrageous meeting the Russians organized, Lvova-Belova's briefing on "evacuating children from the conflict zone," wasn't even televised by the U.N.'s webcast due to vocal opposition from the U.S. and U.K.
While Russian officials would say otherwise, the whole business of being president was probably more trouble for Russia than it was worth. Lavrov's harangue in New York against U.S. hegemony and Western arrogance will provide Russian state broadcasters some juicy TV clippings for the nightly propaganda shows, but it will do nothing to change minds in the court of public opinion. In fact, Lavrov's high-profile appearance gave the U.S. and its allies a golden, high-profile opportunity to call him out for spouting nonsense.
And that's precisely what occurred. U.N. Secretary General António Guterres, seated next to Lavrov, condemned Moscow in his own remarks, "Russia's invasion of Ukraine, in violation of the United Nations Charter and international law, is causing massive suffering and devastation to the country and its people, and adding to the global economic dislocation triggered by the COVID-19 pandemic." U.K. ambassador to the U.N. Barbara Woodward admonished Lavrov, arguing that "Russia's justifications for the war—defeating Nazis and defending against bioweapons—are obvious falsehoods." The EU ambassador to the U.N. Olof Skoog was just as forceful, "By organizing this debate Russia is trying to portray itself as a defender of the UN Charter and multilateralism. Nothing can be further from the truth."
Lavrov expected all of these rejoinders. The man, after all, is a professional diplomat, having served as Russia's foreign minister for nearly 20 years. None of this was a surprise to him, and it wasn't a surprise to his boss back in Moscow either. What he may have been surprised about, however, was the panicky kerfuffle in the West about a ceremonial position Russia was only able to grab by virtue of its place in the alphabet.
The U.N. is one of the most heavily criticized institutions in the world for a long list of reasons. Speeches are delivered on a daily basis but nothing else seems to get done. The veto and its incessant use on matters of great consequence can turn the Security Council into a glorified debating society. The U.N. Secretary General constantly asks for more money, and as the world's wealthiest nation, the United States is usually expected to pick up most of the tab for the organization's operating budget. In the U.S., the U.N. holds a lot of baggage; liberals love to tout its effectiveness, while conservatives blast it as a drain on the taxpayer.
For U.N. skeptics, Russia's time in the spotlight is one more talking point for why the entire organization could use a massive overhaul or perhaps even a downsizing. But make no mistake: Russia's presidency was a minor event, and far too much ink was spilled psychoanalyzing it.
Daniel R. DePetris is a fellow at Defense Priorities and a syndicated foreign affairs columnist at the Chicago Tribune.
The views expressed in this article are the writer's own
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