Jaffar HasnainLast September, during the high-level week of the 79th United Nations General Assembly, I interviewed the UN Secretary-General’s spokesperson, Stephane Dujarric, while walking through the Rose Garden at the UN headquarters in New York.
Inside the UN building, speeches were being delivered on the topics of peace, multilateralism, and shared responsibility. Outside, the mood was very different: a few blocks away, protestors lined the sidewalks, traffic was paralysed by motorcades, and there was a palpable sense of cynicism in the air.
I had spent the day speaking with local New Yorkers, diplomats, aid workers, and observers who all expressed the same feeling: a loss of faith in the United Nations.
With wars raging in Gaza, Sudan, and Ukraine, people I interviewed questioned whether the UN was even relevant anymore.
So, as Stephane and I walked, I asked him pointedly: “Do you think people expect more from the United Nations than it can actually do?”
He said, “One of the important things — and that is a responsibility of you and the media, in a way — is to explain what the UN is, right? The Secretary-General of the UN is not an omnipotent, powerful person who starts conflicts and ends conflicts, right? On the political and security issues, which are really led by the Security Council, it is the member states. And those powerful member states are at a deadlock.”
That conversation stayed with me. At the time, I took his words as a challenge. Over the past year, in my reporting and analysis, I have tried to do what he asked—explaining to audiences that the UN is a forum of 193 member states, not a world government with unlimited powers.
I’ve reminded people that its successes and failures ultimately reflect the willingness—or unwillingness—of nations to act.
And yet, a year later, I can’t shake the feeling that even these explanations fall short. The public’s trust in the UN feels lower today than ever before, and no amount of context can change the reality that people are deeply disillusioned.
A stark moment of distrust
I saw that disillusionment up close just before the high-level week of the 79th session of the General Assembly.
A day before world leaders gathered in New York, I hosted a town hall discussion with two former presidents of the General Assembly, Maria Fernanda Espinosa and Vuk Jeremic.
The discussion was filled with students from Columbia University’s Journalism School, eager to engage and ask questions.
During the live transmission, I did something spontaneous.
“If you have faith in the United Nations,” I asked, “raise your hand.”
Not a single hand went up.
Maria Fernanda Espinosa winced and said softly, “Ouch.”
I believe that single moment captured a truth experts have been echoing in refugee camps, war zones, and diplomatic circles alike: a growing generation simply doesn’t believe in the UN anymore.
This sentiment isn’t limited to one group of students. Global survey data paints a similar picture.
According to a recent analysis by the Global Observatory, trust in the UN declined in 23 of 27 countries tracked between 2021 and 2024.
The Edelman Trust Barometer shows that while a majority—58 percent of people worldwide—still say they trust the UN, that number has been steadily eroding over the past few years.
The Pew Research Center’s latest survey, released ahead of the 80th session of the United Nations General Assembly, shows a world still divided in its view of the UN.
Six in ten adults across 25 countries (61 percent) have a favourable opinion of the organisation, while nearly a third (32 percent) view it unfavourably.
Support remains strong in countries like Canada, Germany, Indonesia, South Korea, Nigeria, and Kenya, but scepticism persists in regions such as the Middle East, Eastern Europe, and Latin America, where many question whether the UN can meaningfully address ongoing crises.
Paradoxically, despite these frustrations, the UN is still trusted more than many national governments and regional organisations, a sign that while people may be angry, they haven’t completely given up on the institution—at least not yet.
The expectations gap
Here lies the paradox: the UN was founded to “save succeeding generations from the scourge of war”.
But it was also built on a structure that gives its most powerful members—the five permanent Security Council nations—the ability to veto action.
When the US, Russia, or China blocks resolutions, the UN becomes paralysed at precisely the moment it is needed most.
This structural flaw has fueled growing calls for reform, including frequent appeals from Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan, who has long argued that “the world is bigger than five” — a reference to the five permanent Security Council members whose veto power can stall action even in the face of global crises.
In March 2024, I sat down with Dennis Francis, who was then president of the UN General Assembly’s 78th session. I asked him about what the UN can do, and must do, even when the Security Council is deadlocked.
He said: “Let me start by saying first of all that the UN is not the problem. The UN’s mission is to fix the problem. Admittedly, the United Nations Security Council, which has primary responsibility under the Charter for matters of peace and security, has not lived up to its expectations in delivering its mandate. The council had not been able to agree on a resolution on Gaza in particular.
But that is not the case with the General Assembly. The General Assembly has passed two resolutions on Gaza and six on the war in Ukraine. These resolutions have been very strong and very clear — calling for an immediate ceasefire, the release of hostages, and repeated access for humanitarian aid and support for the people of Gaza.”
However, for families trapped in conflict zones, these political nuances don’t matter. They see suffering, and they expect action.
When that action doesn’t come, they direct their anger at the UN. It becomes the visible symbol of failure, even though the root cause lies with the governments behind the flags in the General Assembly Hall.
That is what I now think of as the expectations gap: the distance between what people want the UN to be—a saviour—and what it actually is—a mediator with limited tools.
The way forward
As journalists, we try to bridge that gap. We stand in front of cameras, explaining why a peacekeeping mission can’t deploy without a Security Council mandate or why sanctions fail without unanimous agreement.
But there are moments when those explanations feel hollow.
It’s one thing to explain geopolitics from a studio desk. It’s another to stand in a refugee camp in Gaza or Sudan and tell families that the world’s premier peacekeeping body cannot protect them because five powerful nations thousands of miles away couldn’t agree on a vote.
I believe that is the burden Dujarric spoke of during our walk.
The surveys suggest there is still time to turn things around. A majority still believes in the UN’s mission, even if trust is slipping.
But the clock is ticking. Yes, the UNSC and the UN in general must reform internally. But just as importantly, there needs to be a more honest conversation with the public about what the organisation can and cannot do.
Perhaps the real challenge isn’t just fixing the UN, but fixing how we understand it.
One year after that conversation with Dujarric, I did what he asked — I tried to inform.
But when I think back to that TRT World town hall I hosted with former UNGA presidents and a room full of Columbia University journalism students, where not a single hand was raised, I find myself wondering if informing is enough.
If the world continues to expect miracles from an institution built on compromise, disappointment will keep echoing in rooms like that one.
And Espinosa’s unmistakable “ouch” that day captured exactly how painful that gap between expectations and reality has become.
