It was September 24, 1960. Commander-in-Chief Fidel Castro, newly arrived in New York for the 15th UN General Assembly, couldn't find a hotel to stay in. The United States government had pressured all establishments in Manhattan to deny lodging to the Cuban delegation.
It was then that Malcolm X, the leader of the Nation of Islam, invited him to Harlem , to the African American-owned Hotel Theresa, where the Black community welcomed him like a hero. "In Harlem, we're not addicted to all the propaganda the U.S. government puts out," Malcolm X said. "As long as Uncle Sam is against you, you know you're a good man and you're on the right track."
Thousands of African Americans gathered in front of the hotel, twenty-four hours a day, to support Fidel, and therefore, the Cuban people.
That scene, which today seems like something from another era, summarizes better than any treaty what the UN should be: a space where sovereign nations, regardless of their size or military power, can meet, dialogue, and challenge imperialist powers. Sixty-six years later, that promise lies shattered in the very building where Fidel once held court with his speeches.
This 81st session of the United Nations General Assembly, still underway in September 2026, has been a stage where hypocrisy has reached levels that not even the most cynical screenwriters could have imagined. From the podium once occupied by Fidel Castro to denounce the blockade and demand justice for the Global South, two war criminals paraded, flaunting their impunity without the slightest shame.
Benjamin Netanyahu, with his hands stained with the blood of more than 70,000 Palestinians killed in Gaza, dared to declare that "accusing Israel of genocide is the biggest lie of the century" and that "Israel's army is the most moral in the world."
Not content with such obscenity, the Israeli prime minister insulted the representatives of the countries who, in a gesture of dignity, left the room before hearing his speech: "If there are any other moral cowards who haven't left this room, please do so now." His contempt for the international community could not have been more blatant. And yet, there was the UN, granting him the platform, allowing him to laugh in the face of the victims and their families.
Days earlier, Donald Trump, the same one who ordered the kidnapping of a sovereign president, the same one who launched a war of aggression against Iran, the same one who turned hunger into an instrument of blackmail against Cuba , took to the podium to threaten to "quickly annihilate Iran, plunge it into hell with no possibility of survival or hope for future generations."
Not even Hitler dared to go that far. And to leave no doubt about his intentions, the tycoon boasted that "with Venezuela, we have more than 60% of the world's oil," adding that "the riches of the losing country belong to the victor of the war." In other words, he declared the Monroe Doctrine before the entire planet, without any anesthesia or shame.
How did the Assembly react? Half the delegates left the room during Netanyahu's speech. It was a symbolic gesture, certainly, but insufficient. Because what was truly revealing was not the exodus of those who left, but the passivity of those who remained.
The same countries that year after year vote in the General Assembly to demand an end to the blockade against Cuba—187 votes in favor, barely two against—were unable to stand up and tell Netanyahu to his face: “You are a genocidal maniac.” They left, yes, but they didn’t confront him. They left the stage clear for the criminal to continue his monologue.
And as for Trump, there was no stampede. There was no protest. There was, at best, an uncomfortable murmur, a few subsequent statements of "concern," a few condemnations that were lost in the sea of diplomatic bureaucracy. Because no one dares to challenge the empire when it holds all the cards. And that is precisely the tragedy of the UN, since it is not a space of equals, but a mirror of the world as it is, with its hierarchies, its fears, and its complicity.
The United Nations was founded in 1945 with the promise to "save succeeding generations from the scourge of war." But that promise has been systematically violated by the very powers that drafted it. The Security Council, with its five permanent members and its veto power, is the clearest example of how the postwar international order remains a club of victors.
The United States has vetoed more than 80 resolutions condemning Israel. Russia and China have vetoed those condemning their allies. And the Global South—Africa, Latin America, Asia—continues to wait for some of those resolutions to be implemented.
The UN, as it is currently designed, cannot respond to the interests of the peoples of the Global South because it was not created for that purpose. It was created to manage the order imposed by Western powers after World War II. And within that order, the countries of the Global South are suppliers of raw materials, captive markets, and, when they rebel, targets of intervention.
The UN Charter itself enshrines the sovereignty of states, but practice has shown that this sovereignty is a privilege of the powerful. Cuba has been blockaded for 67 years. Venezuela has been invaded. Iraq was destroyed with lies. Libya was dismembered. And the UN, the great guardian of peace, has been unable to prevent it.
What remains is a space for moral posturing and empty rhetoric. The same leaders who order bombings gather annually in New York to deliver speeches about human rights, democracy, and peace.
Netanyahu calls those who leave the room "moral cowards" while his soldiers abduct more than a thousand Palestinian children each year in the West Bank. Trump threatens to "annihilate" a country while his administration blocks 65% of the humanitarian aid entering Gaza. It's an absurd charade where the main actors are the executioners, and the audience, the victims, has no right to respond.
The contrast between words and deeds is so grotesque it borders on the surreal. While Netanyahu proclaimed that Israel is "the most moral army in the world," his forces were destroying more than 90% of Gaza's wells and desalination plants, leaving two million people without access to clean water.
While Trump promised "peace and prosperity" for the Western Hemisphere, his agents were kidnapping the president of Venezuela and stifling the development of the Cuban people. While both spoke of "security" and "freedom," their armies were killing children in Gaza and the Sahel, training terrorists in Ukraine, and financing coups in Africa.
And amidst all this, the UN—the same UN that in 1960 was unable to secure a hotel for Commander-in-Chief Fidel Castro—continues to function as a machine for producing resolutions that no one heeds. The General Assembly votes time and again against the blockade of Cuba, and the blockade continues. The General Assembly condemns the occupation of Palestine, and the occupation expands. The General Assembly demands a cessation of hostilities, and the hostilities escalate.
It is a cycle of good intentions without consequences, a mechanism designed to give the illusion that the world governs itself, when in reality it is governed by the powers that control oil, finance and weapons.
This is not about demonizing the idea of a supranational body. Humanity desperately needs a space where differences can be addressed without resorting to war, where people can develop common strategies to overcome centuries of underdevelopment and dependency, where multilateralism is a reality and not just a facade. The problem is not the UN as a concept, but the UN as a concrete structure, captured by the very powers that created it to manage their hegemony.
A UN that responds to the interests of the Global South should have a Security Council without veto power, a General Assembly with binding authority, an International Criminal Court that tries everyone equally—Netanyahu, Trump, Ben Gvir, those responsible for the blockade against Cuba—and a funding mechanism that does not depend on voluntary contributions from wealthy countries. But none of that will happen as long as the world order remains unipolar or, at best, multipolar with hierarchies.
Sixty-six years after Fidel was received in Harlem as a liberation hero, the lesson remains relevant. Solidarity among oppressed peoples is stronger than imperialist propaganda. The UN can be a hostile space, but it can also be a platform for denouncing injustice, for highlighting struggles, for building alliances. Fidel did so in 1960, and he did it again every time he took to that podium.
Today, as war criminals take the podium and representatives of the Global South silently leave the room, the question is not whether the UN is useful or not. The question is what we, the people, do with that space.
Because as long as empires dictate the rules, the UN will remain a club for the rich where the poor have the right to speak, but not to be heard. And as long as that continues, peace, justice, and dignity will remain empty words in the vocabulary of the powerful.