By: Omar Silva

National Perspective Belize

www.nationalperspectivebz.com

Belize City: Thursday 12th March 2026

EDITORIAL

In moments of global crisis, the world instinctively turns its eyes toward the United Nations. Founded in the ashes of the Second World War, the institution was meant to be the guardian of international peace, a forum where disputes would be settled by law rather than by bombs.

Yet every new conflict reminds us of a difficult truth: the UN’s moral authority is only as strong as the willingness of powerful nations to respect it.

The current escalation between the United States, Israel, and Iran exposes this contradiction with painful clarity.

The United Nations Security Council recently passed a resolution condemning Iran’s attacks against several Gulf states. The resolution demanded that Tehran halt its strikes against regional targets and warned that the conflict threatens global stability, particularly the security of the Strait of Hormuz, through which roughly one-fifth of the world’s oil passes.

But the question many people across the world are asking is simple:

Where was the United Nations when the bombs began to fall in the first place?

The Gulf countries mentioned in the resolution are not neutral ground. Several of them host major American military bases, including installations used for regional air operations, surveillance, and logistics. These facilities form part of the strategic architecture through which the United States projects military power across the Middle East.

When those bases become operational platforms in a conflict, the line between host nation and battlefield becomes dangerously thin.

Yet the international response reveals the limits of global governance. When smaller states violate international law, condemnation and sanctions often follow quickly. But when military operations involve major powers or their closest allies, the system frequently stalls.

The reason lies in the structure of the Security Council itself.

Five permanent members—the United States, Russia, China, the United Kingdom, and France—hold veto power over any binding action. This arrangement, designed in 1945 to prevent conflict among the victors of World War II, has increasingly turned the Council into a chamber of geopolitical stalemate.

When one of those powers is directly involved in a conflict, the referee is also one of the players.

This structural contradiction is not new. It has appeared in wars from Iraq to Syria, from Ukraine to Gaza. Each time, the UN speaks of international law, while power politics quietly decides how far that law will actually go.

The result is a growing perception across much of the world that international rules are not applied evenly.

For many nations in Latin America, Africa, Asia, and the Caribbean, this perception matters deeply. These regions depend on international law as a shield against the arbitrary use of power. When the rules appear selective, the credibility of the entire system begins to erode.

For a small country like Belize, the consequences are not theoretical.

Belize does not control the shipping lanes of the Persian Gulf. It does not command aircraft carriers in distant seas. Yet when conflict threatens the Strait of Hormuz, the shock waves arrive quickly at Belizean gas pumps, supermarket shelves, and electricity bills.

A spike in global oil prices translates directly into higher transport costs, rising food prices, and new pressure on a fragile economy already dependent on imports.

In other words, small nations pay the economic price for wars they did not start and cannot influence.

This is why the question of international law is not an abstract diplomatic debate. It is a matter of survival for smaller economies and developing societies.

The United Nations still matters. It provides a forum where conflicts can be debated rather than fought, where diplomacy can still function in a fractured world.

But the present crisis reminds us that moral authority without equal enforcement remains incomplete.

If international law is to retain its credibility, it must apply not only to the weak but also to the powerful.

Until that day arrives, the United Nations will continue to speak in the language of peace while the world’s most decisive actions are taken elsewhere.

And the rest of the world—especially smaller nations—will continue to live with the consequences.

My Signature Line

International law loses its strength the moment the powerful decide it no longer applies to them.