Urquhart, Brian. Foreign Affairs; New York Vol. 74, Iss. 3, (May 1995): 21.
During periods of international disaster, a troubled world feels the need for an outstanding full-time supervisor. At first, with the horrors of World War I still fresh in their minds, the founders of the League of Nations considered calling the head of their organization "chancellor." When World War II was at its height, the title "moderator" was suggested for the head of the future United Nations. In both cases, the wartime mood passed, and the more bureaucratic title of "secretary-general" was chosen.
From the outset, the U.N. secretary-general has been an important part of the institution, not only as its chief executive, but as both symbol and guardian of the original vision of the organization. There, however, specific agreement has ended. The United Nations, like any important organization, needs strong and independent leadership, but it is an intergovernmental organization, and governments have no intention of giving up control of it. While the secretary-general can be extraordinarily useful in times of crisis, the office inevitably embodies something more than international cooperation--sometimes even an unwelcome hint of supranationalism. Thus, the attitude of governments toward the United Nations' chief and only elected official is and has been necessarily ambivalent.
THE ROLE
Fifty-one years ago at Dumbarton Oaks, when the Allied powers met to discuss some of the details of a future international organization, their ambivalence about the secretary-general's role was already evident. They strongly opposed a secretary-general directly elected by the General Assembly, and they defended the veto held by the Security Council's permanent members--Britain, China, France, the Soviet Union (now Russia), and the United States--over the selection process. In fact, the permanent members have always controlled the appointment of the secretary-general, a responsibility that they have often failed to live up to. The founders of the United Nations were purposely ambiguous about the secretary-general's responsibilities. Despite President Roosevelt's vision of the job as a moderator, the primary function of the secretary-general as outlined in the U.N. Charter is to act as the chief administrative officer of the organization. Secondarily, he is obligated to carry out the decisions of the main organs of the United Nations. Only Article 99 of the charter opens the door to independent political action, and then not very wide. Under Article 99, the secretary-general "may bring to the attention of the Security Council any matter which in his opinion may threaten the maintenance of international peace and security." If the secretary-general has any independent political role, this article provides the mandate for it.
When the time came to appoint the first secretary-general, governments were extraordinarily vague regarding the position's qualifications. In September 1945, for example, the U.S. representative on the preparatory commission, Adlai Stevenson, told Secretary of State Edward R. Stettinius, "We favor the choice of an outstandingly qualified individual, preferably a figure who has attained some international position and preferably a national of a small or middle power"--not exactly an overwhelming job description. (The idea of a female secretary-general was never even considered.)
After some eminent names--Dwight Eisenhower, Anthony Eden, Lester Pearson--had been bandied about and turned down by the Soviets, it became clear that the secretary-general's appointment would be a purely political decision, determined by what the United States and the Soviet Union could agree on--a lowest common denominator if ever there was one. Qualifications, stature, and leadership qualities would all be secondary considerations. This depressing reality dawned on me in January 1946, when the General Assembly was considering nominations for the first secretary-general. At that time, among other duties, I ran the speakers' list in the General Assembly. Stettinius came up to my table and asked me to identify Trygve Lie, who was then foreign minister of Norway. I pointed out Lie's ample figure to Stettinius, who then proceeded to the rostrum to nominate Lie as "a statesman well known to all." Even then, a sincere search for the best possible candidate was obviously not in the cards.
The job descriptions given by its various incumbents also show some ambivalence, born, no doubt, of bitter experience. Lie referred to it as "the most impossible job on this earth." Dag Hammarskjold said that the secretary-general was "a sort of secular pope, and, for much of the time, a pope without a church." U Thant, a courageous and modest man, said that the secretary-generalship was "the most varied, most interesting, and most challenging political job on earth." To Kurt Waldheim it was "at the same time one of the most fascinating and one of the most frustrating jobs in the world, encompassing as it does the height of human aspiration and the depth of human frailty."
The secretary-generalship, at least on paper, is indeed an impossible job. Quite apart from unrealistic public expectations, large responsibilities without significant power or resources, and the contrary attitudes of governments, the job comprises an unmanageable number of major functions. These include managing a worldwide secretariat and a global organization on a shoestring budget, a sizable part of which is usually overdue (the United Nations is not allowed to borrow); implementing the decisions of the Security Council and other organs of the United Nations; running peacekeeping and other highly sensitive field operations; being the world's mediator in an endless series of "good offices" missions involving quiet diplomacy all over the world; providing good offices in human rights and humanitarian situations; coordinating the so-called U.N. system of specialized agencies and major economic and social programs; representing the United Nations worldwide at conferences and regional meetings, and to the media and public; maintaining a watch on major developments of all kinds and alerting governments to them; generating ideas and strategies on global. problems; and being the world's number one fig leaf and scapegoat.
Comments
Post a Comment