When Pakistan’s Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif took the stage at the 80th United Nations General Assembly today, on September 26, his words carried three overlapping purposes: to bear moral witness, to press for regional diplomacy, and to reassure a domestic audience. His address was neither bland nor evasive. It was sharp, sometimes startling, and at moments deliberately contradictory.
Sharif began with Gaza, the wound at the heart of global politics. He invoked the killing of children, citing the case of Hind Rajab as a symbol of civilian suffering, and demanded an immediate ceasefire. His call for a two-state solution, with pre-1967 borders and Jerusalem as the Palestinian capital, was not new, but his tone was urgent. The UN, he argued, cannot continue to tolerate what he called “rogue behaviour” by Israel. This was less an appeal than an accusation: a warning that moral credibility is slipping away from the international system itself.
The second theme was South Asia. Sharif reminded the Assembly of the May 2025 clashes with India, framing Pakistan’s actions as lawful self-defence under Article 51 of the UN Charter. He declared, without hesitation, “We have won the war.” In the very next breath, however, he offered India “a comprehensive and result-oriented dialogue” on all outstanding disputes. To an outside listener, these statements may sound irreconcilable. Yet they were carefully crafted. At home, triumphalism reassures a sceptical public. Abroad, the invitation to talks presents Pakistan as both firm and reasonable, a state prepared to negotiate once its sovereignty is respected.
Then came the surprise that made headlines. Sharif praised Donald Trump for brokering the South Asia ceasefire earlier this year and announced that Pakistan had formally nominated him for the Nobel Peace Prize. The move raised eyebrows, but it was also a signal. Pakistan is reminding Washington, and the world, that despite the UN’s paralysis, American power remains decisive. To call Trump a “man of peace” is politically risky, but it also positions Pakistan as pragmatic enough to engage with whoever can deliver results, regardless of controversy.
Beyond these set-piece moments, Sharif placed Pakistan’s challenges in a broader frame. He declared a climate emergency and reminded delegates that his country contributes less than one percent of global emissions yet suffers disproportionately from their effects. The catastrophic floods of 2022 and again in 2025 have displaced millions, destroyed infrastructure, and set back economic development by years. His demand was blunt: if the international community truly values multilateralism, it must deliver the climate finance and technology transfers promised to vulnerable states.
Sharif also returned to the long shadow of terrorism. He reminded the Assembly that Pakistan has sacrificed more than 90,000 lives and lost $150 billion in the fight against militancy. Yet he warned that groups operating from Afghan territory, including the TTP and BLA, continue to threaten Pakistan’s security. He urged Kabul’s interim government to prevent its soil being used for cross-border attacks. This was both a diplomatic appeal and a strategic warning, placing responsibility squarely on Afghanistan while inviting international support for Pakistan’s security concerns.
What, then, should a global audience take from this address? Three lessons stand out.
First, the United Nations still matters, even if its authority has been eroded. Smaller and vulnerable states continue to use this platform because there is no alternative. Sharif’s words highlighted precisely the kind of cross-border crises, war, climate, terrorism, that no single state can resolve. If the UN cannot act effectively on these, its very relevance is at risk.
Second, international politics has become starkly transactional. The Nobel nomination for Trump was not a slip or a flourish. It was a form of currency, a reminder that middle powers like Pakistan survive by cultivating multiple patrons, praising whoever delivers. It may offend diplomatic sensibilities, but it reflects the reality of an order where rules bend to power.
Third, rhetoric itself is part of strategy. To boast of “victory” and in the same speech offer dialogue is not incoherence. It is an attempt to hold two audiences at once: the domestic voter who demands strength, and the international community that demands reasonableness. Such rhetorical balancing may calm tensions in the short term, but it also risks entrenching the pattern of unresolved conflicts celebrated as temporary wins.
Sharif’s address should not be dismissed as another set of speeches echoing in the marble chamber. It was a warning. Gaza, Kashmir, terrorism, and climate change are not separate issues. They are symptoms of the same disorder: a world where international law is enforced selectively, where vulnerable nations pay the highest costs, and where the institutions designed to protect them struggle to function.
The prime minister’s challenge was not only to Israel or to India or to Afghanistan. It was to the great powers themselves. If multilateralism is to survive, it must begin delivering tangible results. Otherwise, it will not be Pakistan or Gaza or South Asia alone that lose faith. It will be the world as a whole, and the fragile peace that still holds will finally fracture.
🇵🇰 Pakistan - Prime Minister Addresses United Nations General Debate, 80th Session | #UNGA
