If the United Nations were human, turning eighty this year, it might be pictured teetering on a frayed armchair, a lukewarm cup of tea forgotten beside it. Glasses perched on its nose, it would thumb through a worn copy of its own charter—pages creased from decades of selective use. Its pension, long squandered on noble but fruitless ventures, would leave it staring down an inevitable reckoning with the great beyond. Thankfully, the UN, founded on October 24, 1945, isn’t human. It’s an organisation—a sprawling, often baffling construct born from the ashes of a world war, fueled by idealism but burdened by age. Aging it is, though not with the grace of a life well-lived. Its joints creak under unmet promises, its vision blurs with the weight of time. As it nears this octogenarian milestone, the UN feels less like a dynamic force for global good and more like a relic—well-meaning but increasingly sidelined. Has it failed to do enough, or has the world it was built to govern morphed beyond recognition? Today’s world crackles with conflict—wars in the Middle East, tensions in Eastern Europe, neglected crises in Africa, and rising unease in Asia. These fractures mock the UN’s core ideals of cooperation and peace. Where is its decisive voice? Too often, it’s lost in a haze of diplomatic platitudes, drowned by the self-interest of powerful nations, or stifled by its own tangled structure—perhaps even a web of corruption. When confronting superpowers, the UN waddles like a lame duck. It issues stern rebukes ignored with impunity, passes resolutions that gather dust, and convenes committees whose reports molder on shelves. A veto in the Security Council—wielded by one of the privileged few—dissolves its authority like mist. It becomes a stage for posturing, not a driver of change. This weakness reflects a broader malaise. The UN is a bureaucratic behemoth—agencies, departments, and programs sprawling in all directions, each with its own fiefdom. What should be a strength—global reach—becomes a liability. Aid stumbles over red tape, peacekeeping falters for lack of resources or clarity, and diplomacy bogs down in procedural quicksand. Size breeds inertia. Then there’s corruption. Most within the UN are likely dedicated idealists, but its scale and cash flow invite abuse. Misused aid, rigged contracts, and exploitation of the vulnerable persist—denied, investigated, yet recurring. This cancer erodes trust and moral credibility. Worse, incompetence and nepotism fester alongside it. Tales of unqualified appointees—installed by favour, not merit—abound, dragging down expertise and decision-making. Mediocrity thrives; talent withers. These failures—impotence in conflict, deference to power, bureaucratic paralysis, corruption, and incompetence—fuel disillusionment. The UN no longer shines as a beacon of hope or guarantor of peace. To many, it’s a costly talk shop, gobbling resources while delivering little. So, at eighty, does it still matter? Is it an outdated shell in a world it can’t grasp? Some defend it, citing humanitarian aid, sustainable development goals, human rights advocacy, and its role as a diplomatic forum. They argue it’s flawed but essential—without it, chaos would reign. Yet this feels like grasping at straws. Aid is laudable but hobbled by inefficiency; development goals are bold but lack teeth; dialogue drags on while national interests trump collective good. More damningly, the UN’s very existence might hinder progress. Its presence fosters complacency—why act decisively when a global body supposedly has it covered? It’s a scapegoat for tough choices. Imagine a world without it. Fearful at first—who would coordinate aid or diplomacy?—but perhaps liberating. Nations might take real responsibility, forging agile alliances. Regional groups could rise, unencumbered by UN bureaucracy. New governance models, better suited to today’s borderless challenges, might emerge. Dismissing the UN isn’t trivial. Its early wins—decolonization, setting global norms—mattered. But 1945 is distant; the world has outgrown it. At eighty, it faces a choice: fade into irrelevance or reinvent itself. Transformation demands political will—rare today—and a purge of inefficiency, corruption, and privilege. Possible? Doubtful, given its inertia and the grip of member states. The UN at eighty mirrors the gap between our dreams of peace and the reality of power politics. Its demise might jolt us from complacency, forcing sharper solutions. It embodies humanity’s yearning for cooperation but proves intent alone falls short. It must either become a true force for good or step aside for something better. The world deserves more than polite words and half-measures. The time for radical change is now. The writer is an African scholar, analyst, and commentator on economic and political affairs.
