Statement by Mr. Alvaro de Soto

Assistant Secretary-General for Political Affairs

United Nations Department of Political Affairs

I am honoured indeed to be given the opportunity, in such eminent company, to offer a few very personal reflections on the address of His Holiness Pope John Paul II to the United Nations on the occasion of the Fiftieth Anniversary of the Organization. I thank the Holy See Observer Mission and the Path to Peace Foundation for their invitation.

Let me begin with a very personal observation. It is that as I listened to the Pope's address, I had the distinct impression that I was witnessing nothing less that the building of a cathedral.

Perhaps I was influenced in this by the physical fact of my privileged perch, together with the President of the General Assembly and the Secretary-General, on the podium of the Assembly Hall. I had, as it were, a bird's eye view of this architectural feat as it was being performed.

But in fact, the Pope's speech, upon careful scrutiny, does indeed resemble a cathedral in many ways:

-the strength of its intellectual and spiritual foundations;

-the broad, civilizational range of its ambition;

-the beauty of its structure; and

-the divine aspirations that it enshrines.

It is an epochal statement, rising high above the topical, and yet intimately related, as in a diorama to the historical backdrop against which it was delivered and to the problems of our time. It is dense with meaning, far reaching in its vision. In this, it resembles the UN Charter itself. At the same time, its underlying message is utterly simple, while retaining its essential mystery.

It is hard to distill such a rich and pithy statement: while it is brief, I would venture that it is almost encyclical in its importance and in its breadth. The Pope covered vast territories - vast as the reach of the Church he heads.

Thus, even while refraining from dwelling on "any particular social, political or economic question," the Holy Father in fact delved into the farthest reaches of the United Nations' agenda. Everyone involved in the work of this Organization, in whatever capacity, at whatever level, can feel touched by the Pope's words.

He made, almost literally, a monumental contribution to - as he put it - "that thoughtful meditation on the history and role of this Organization which should accompany and give substance to the anniversary celebrations." It is a contribution that, if ignored, would result in a loss to us all.

I have not been asked to describe the core or essence of His Holiness' speech. This holistic responsibility behooves all of us together in this exercise in deconstruction that we are jointly undertaking. But I cannot resist the temptation to say that, if I were asked to do so, I would pluck from the speech a single sentence which I believe reverberates through the nave and transepts and up the tower and the spire of this great edifice: "Inspired by the example of all those who have taken the risk of freedom, can we not recommit ourselves also to taking the risk of solidarity - and thus the risk of peace?" This is, in my view, the main thrust of the speech; its kernel. It contains what I must describe as a dynamic appeal to the international community - "the whole family of peoples living on the face of the earth" whom he felt he was addressing as he spoke to the Assembly.

As it happens, the first reference to taking the risk of freedom appears in those paragraphs that have been assigned to me for particular examination: "Men and women throughout the world, even when threatened by violence, have taken the risk of freedom, asking to be given a place in social, political and economic life which is commensurate with their dignity as free human beings."

The Pontiff describes this longing for freedom as "truly one of the distinguishing marks of our time". The foundation for this surge, he tells us, lies in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, formulated under the aegis of the United Nations, which "remains one of the highest expressions of the human conscience of our time."

The Pope goes on to tell us that the universal moral law written on the human heart provides this global movement for freedom with its inner structure. Universal human rights remind us that we do not live in an irrational or meaningless world. Rather, there is a moral logic built into human life which "makes possible dialogue between individuals and peoples."

It is this "grammar" which is needed, the Holy Father tells us, "if we want a century of violent coercion to be succeeded by a century of persuasion."

In a paragraph of his written statement which he did not read, the Pope, while echoing the Vienna conference's reaffirmation of the universality of human rights, clearly made allowance for the plurality of models for organizing the politics and economics of human freedom. Plurality and universality do not exclude each other: indeed, the universality of human rights, immovable as it is, is sufficiently capacious to shelter a variety of practical modalities.

The Pope is the head of a two thousand year-old Church which has withstood the test of time. Yet he addressed the world - through you, through us - respectfully, as a witness. He did so "on the threshold of a new millennium".

No one, least of all within these walls, would question the global acceleration of the dynamic, universal quest for freedom that appears, albeit in a variety of manifestations, wherever we look.

No one would gainsay the fact that we are poised at the cusp of a new era, at a moment of transition. The Secretary-General has often said that this transition is as important as that which followed the Napoleonic wars, World War I and World War II.

It is a moment of great hope. At least so it seemed when the Security Council met, for the first and only time ever at summit level, only fifty-two months ago, to bury the Cold War and embark on a promising new era for this Organization and for the world.

But this transition - which has already lasted more than any of us would wish - is also one of portent. We are all witnesses to the dashed hopes that it would be possible to cure all ills through international cooperation, and particularly through the United Nations, with the Cold War behind us.

We are all excruciatingly aware of the plethora of new problems that have arisen after the end of the Cold War. Indeed. We are all conscious of the fact that, in too many cases, the appearance of these problems is attributable precisely to the end of the cold war and to the lifting of the constraints and of the artificial buttresses that accompanied it. Hence the trail of explosion, implosion and collapse that is there for all to see: thanks to the revolution in modern communications, as a pioneer of computer technology has told us, we are effectively rid of the tyranny of geography.

We are all acutely aware as well of the rise in expectations and the mirror-image crisis of political will that affects the capacity of the international community, as organized and embodied in the United Nations, to minister to the crises of the day.

All in this room are sensitive to the criticisms leveled against this Organization, whether for doing too little, for doing too much, for acting too late, or for playing favourites or applying double standards.

Transitions are inherently difficult. This is as true in history as it is in entomology: the pupa stage, in which the larva rests before emerging as an adult, is the most tender and vulnerable in the process from which emerges a butterfly. These are the laws of nature.

The difference is that in the transition to the era that will succeed the crippling Cold War, men and women, equipped with a knowledge of history and the will to be free from the shackles they shed, can make a difference and avoid all-too-familiar pitfalls.

The difference that men and women can make -- not just leaders, but ordinary people as well -- is to ensure that, in the process of reform that is underway, the essential goals as set out in the Charter are adhered to, while taking care to lay down with absolute clarity what it is that the international community is prepared to do. That is to say, parameters must be established, for people have a right to know what they can expect of international institutions, created by men and women and ultimately answerable to them.

What the Holy Father is telling us in this regard is, as I see it, that we should look toward the future in this effort, and persevere in our ambitions. I come back to the driving theme that I have taken the liberty of identifying in His address: the risk of freedom should be matched by the risk of solidarity and equaled by the risk of peace.

Or to state it otherwise: the first and overriding goal of the United Nations is peace. Peace must be understood comprehensively. To achieve it, to maintain it, to consolidate it, solidarity is needed in order to avert the spiral of exclusion and marginalization referred to earlier by the Secretary-General. Hence also the Holy Father's admonition that we should not be satisfied with mere coexistence with others, but strive to live for others. And solidarity is the essential means to support all who would be free.

The answer to the rhetorical question posed by the title of this seminar can only be yes: the United Nations should remain a family of nations. Only thus can a century of violent coercion be succeeded by a century of persuasion.