Voices, Vetoes, and the Weight of Peace: 5 New Voices at UNSC—the World’s Most Tense Table

From Ukraine’s frontlines to fragile ceasefires in Africa, the world’s conflicts converge in one room. That room sits on the East River in New York, wrapped in glass, ritual and contradiction. The United Nations Security Council is often criticised, frequently paralysed, yet never irrelevant. It has begun another year with new members, old rivalries and an agenda heavier than ever. War, peace, diplomacy and deadlock all arrive at the same horseshoe-shaped table.

January signals a reset of sorts. Five countries, Bahrain, Colombia, the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), Latvia and Liberia, have stepped into the Security Council as non-permanent members. They replace Algeria, Guyana, the Republic of Korea, Sierra Leone and Slovenia, whose terms ended quietly in December.

The transition is procedural, almost ceremonial. Yet beneath the handshakes and flag-raisings lies a deeper question. Can fresh voices shift conversations in a chamber increasingly defined by hardened positions and political vetoes?

New Faces at a Familiar Table

The Security Council is where global crises are debated in real time. It is where draft resolutions are negotiated line by line, often late into the night. It is also where disagreements are most visible, especially among the five permanent members, China, France, Russia, the United Kingdom and the United States.

These P5 countries retain veto power, a privilege that shapes every outcome. Alongside them sit ten non-permanent members, elected for two-year terms by the General Assembly. This year’s configuration blends continuity with change.

Denmark, Greece, Pakistan, Panama and Somalia continue their terms through 2026. The newcomers bring distinct regional experiences. Africa gains two voices through DRC and Liberia. Latin America returns with Colombia. Europe adds Latvia. The Middle East enters through Bahrain.

Fifteen chairs. Five vetoes. One world’s worth of conflicts. That arithmetic defines the Council’s rhythm. Every member has a vote, but not every vote carries equal weight. Still, participation matters. Even without veto power, non-permanent members can influence language, frame debates and force issues onto the agenda.

What the Security Council Actually Does

The Security Council’s authority flows directly from the UN Charter. It carries primary responsibility for maintaining international peace and security. Unlike other UN bodies, its decisions are legally binding on all 193 Member States.

This power is vast, at least on paper. The Council can investigate disputes, urge peaceful settlements, impose sanctions, authorise peacekeeping missions and, in rare cases, approve the use of force. Its resolutions have shaped responses to wars, terrorism, nuclear proliferation and humanitarian crises for nearly eighty years.

Its working methods are a study in contrast. Public meetings project transparency, with diplomats speaking for the record. Closed consultations, by contrast, are where the real bargaining happens. In those quiet rooms, alliances shift, language softens, and red lines emerge.

The chamber itself tells a story. A mural of a phoenix rising from ashes looms above the delegates, a reminder of humanity’s repeated attempts to climb out of its own destruction. The horseshoe table has no head, symbolising formal equality, even when reality says otherwise.

Despite its limitations, the Security Council table remains one of the most potent symbols of collective human conscience which is a place where power, responsibility and moral choice collide, imperfectly but visibly, before the world.

Prestige Isn’t Free: The Cost of Membership

Winning a seat on the Security Council is neither easy nor cheap. Non-permanent members are elected through secret ballots, requiring a two-thirds majority in the General Assembly. Regional groupings determine who can run, but competition is often fierce.

Membership brings prestige, visibility and influence. It also brings relentless demands. Delegations must staff round-the-clock negotiations, respond to emergencies and engage continuously with allies and adversaries alike. For smaller states, the logistical and diplomatic burden can be immense.

More than fifty UN Member States have never served on the Council. Latvia’s arrival this year is historic, marking its first-ever term. For others, service becomes almost habitual.

Some countries return to the Council again and again, not for prestige alone, but to shape outcomes. Even states outside the Council can be invited to participate in discussions when their interests are affected. They may speak, argue and persuade, but they cannot vote. Decision-making, ultimately, remains tightly held within those fifteen chairs.

A Body Under Pressure

If authority defines the Security Council, tension defines its present moment. Conflicts in Ukraine and Gaza have exposed deep fractures among permanent members. Draft resolutions stall. Emergency meetings end without a consensus. Statements grow sharper, trust thinner.

For all its sweeping mandate, the Security Council’s greatest struggle today may be internal. The veto tells that story clearly. In the immediate post–Cold War years, vetoes were rare. Some years passed without a single one. That era is gone. Since the mid-2010s, veto use has surged, reflecting strategic rivalry rather than shared purpose.

Seven vetoes were cast in 2023. Eight followed in 2024. Each one halted action, delayed response or froze diplomacy. For critics, this is evidence of irrelevance. For defenders, it is proof that the Council mirrors the world as it is, not as it should be. History suggests that even paralysis has value. Debate forces positions into the open. Silence, by contrast, resolves nothing.

When the Council Shaped History

The Security Council’s legacy is uneven but undeniable. Its most visible role has been peacekeeping. From early observer missions in the Middle East in 1948, operations have evolved into complex deployments in places like DRC, South Sudan and Lebanon.

These missions protect civilians, support fragile governments and stabilise post-conflict societies. They also expose peacekeepers to danger and criticism, highlighting the gap between ambition and reality.

The Council has authorised force only sparingly. In 1991, it backed a US-led coalition to expel Iraqi forces from Kuwait. In 2011, it approved intervention in Libya to protect civilians, a decision that still shapes debates on humanitarian action and regime change.

Sanctions have been another preferred tool. Measures against Iran and North Korea over nuclear programmes, and against groups like Al-Qaeda and ISIL, show the Council’s attempt to pressure without war.

Its quieter achievements matter too. The Council endorsed the Dayton Accords, ending the Bosnian war. It created tribunals for Rwanda and the former Yugoslavia, setting precedents for prosecuting genocide and war crimes.

In October 1962, as the world edged toward nuclear war during the Cuban Missile Crisis, the Security Council chamber became one of the few places where US and Soviet ambassadors spoke directly. Behind the scenes and in public debate, those exchanges helped slow escalation while leaders searched for a diplomatic exit. The missiles were eventually withdrawn without a single shot fired.

India and the Art of Being Heard

India’s relationship with the Security Council spans decades and eight non-permanent terms: 1950–51, 1967–68, 1972–73, 1977–78, 1984–85, 1991–92, 2011–12 and 2021–22. Across those tenures, a consistent thread emerges—faith in dialogue over force.

In 1953, amid the chaos of the Korean War, India, which was then a young republic and a non-permanent Council member, was tasked with leading the Neutral Nations Repatriation Commission. Indian officers stood between hostile armies, overseeing the return of prisoners who refused to go home. For many diplomats, it was the first proof that non-permanent members could shape outcomes, not just observe them.

During the Cold War, India championed decolonisation and non-alignment, opposing apartheid and supporting independence movements across Africa and Asia. In 1972–73, it pushed humanitarian concerns following the Bangladesh war, focusing on refugees and recovery.

Later terms saw India engage with crises in the Middle East, Afghanistan and the Balkans. Its role as one of the UN’s largest troop contributors lent credibility to its positions. In 2011–12, it warned against mandate overreach in Libya. In 2021–22, it chaired key committees on terrorism and sanctions.

India’s approach has been that of a bridge-builder, advocating inclusivity and long-overdue reform of the Council itself.

The Monthly Gavel and the Meaning of Rotation

Every month, the presidency of the Security Council rotates alphabetically. In January, Somalia holds the gavel. The role appears modest, yet it carries quiet influence.

The President sets the programme of work, chairs meetings and speaks for the Council. Diplomats often describe it as wearing two hats: neutral facilitator and national advocate. In tense times, even procedural decisions can become political signals.

Every month, the gavel passes to a new country, irrespective of whether it is large or small. For diplomats, that simple ritual is a reminder that while power may be uneven, participation is universal, and the chance to shape outcomes never fully disappears.

What the New Members Mean for India—and the World

The arrival of Bahrain, Colombia, DRC, Latvia and Liberia reshapes the Council’s tone, if not its power structure. Regional diversity deepens. Voices from Africa and Latin America grow stronger.

For India, even outside the Council, this matters. DRC and Liberia align with India’s long-standing engagement in African peace and security. Colombia’s experience with negotiated peace resonates with India’s preference for political solutions. Bahrain opens space on Middle East stability and maritime security. Latvia brings European and NATO perspectives into debates on Ukraine and cyber threats.

These members may influence discussions on peacekeeping reform, counter-terrorism and development-linked security. Consensus remains hard. Conversation, however, remains possible.

Continuity, Change and the Unfinished Question

The Security Council has always been a paradox. It is both indispensable and insufficient. It reflects global power imbalances while offering the only forum where all major powers must at least speak to one another.

As wars grind on and humanitarian needs grow, expectations of the Council rise, even as faith in its effectiveness wavers. Yet no alternative has emerged with comparable authority or legitimacy.

As new flags are raised outside the UN headquarters, old questions remain unanswered. Can fresh voices soften entrenched positions? Can dialogue survive vetoes? Can that one room still matter when the world feels so divided?

History suggests it can. Sometimes slowly, sometimes imperfectly, but often when it matters most. And so the world keeps watching the horseshoe table, waiting for the next moment when words, not weapons, change the course of events.