The most revealing votes at the United Nations are often the ones cast in silence. When the General Assembly convened on June 3 in New York to elect the next slate of non?permanent members to the Security Council, there was no dramatic denunciation of Berlin, no public reprimand, no veto and no visible rupture. However, as Austria and Portugal secured the two Western seats with 131 and 134 votes, respectively, Germany, Europe’s largest economy and one of the UN’s most dependable institutional backers, finished with 104 votes. For a country that has served six previous Council terms, speaks fluently in the language of multilateralism and still sees itself as a plausible future permanent member, the result was anything but a routine defeat.
Security Council elections are often described as procedural, but that is precisely why they matter. The contest is held by secret ballot in the General Assembly, where small island states, middle powers and heavily courted developing countries carry the same formal vote as major powers. Candidate countries need a two-thirds majority of those present and voting. There is no permanent-member privilege to fall back on, no friendly regional communiqué that can substitute for actual support. A state either has the votes, or it does not.
Ukraine could not explain the defeat because Portugal and Austria are also supportive of Kyiv.
The Council is the only UN body with authority to impose sanctions and authorise the use of force. While only its five permanent members – the United States, Britain, France, Russia and China – hold vetoes, the 10 elected members still wield influence through committee chairmanships, consensus?building and procedural votes.
Germany entered the race with a case that looked persuasive on paper. It had experience, money, diplomatic reach, a large UN footprint and a claim to moral seriousness. Foreign Minister Johann Wadephul had presented Germany as ready to take on “even more responsibility” as a “strong, reliable and independent voice” at the UN, promising commitment to the Charter, international law, diplomacy and dialogue. Berlin’s pitch was not lightweight. It was built around the assumption that Germany’s record, generosity and European centrality would still carry weight in a fractured Assembly.
That assumption failed.
For the first time in decades, Germany could not secure one of the Western European seats it had grown used to winning every eight years.
The first explanation lies in timing and campaign craft. Austria and Portugal had announced their candidacy much earlier, and no matter how lavish a reception Wadephul may have hosted, votes are not collected five minutes before the clock strikes midnight. They are cultivated over the years through visits, committee work, quiet support for appointments and regional sensitivities. Austria had the advantage of Vienna’s UN identity and a posture of neutrality that travels well in a polarised chamber. Portugal arrived with a softer diplomatic profile, less burdened by great-power ambition and helped by networks across Europe, Africa and the Lusophone world.
The second, and more politically charged, explanation is Gaza. It would be too crude to say Germany lost only because of Israel. It would be even cruder to pretend Gaza was peripheral. As Wadephul told reporters after the loss, Germany had “always taken a clear stance on certain issues” that other member states did not share and singled out the country’s “firmer support for Ukraine” and “special responsibility for Israel” as possible reasons for its defeat. Since the Holocaust, support for Israel’s security has been treated in Berlin not as an ordinary policy preference but as a moral inheritance.
In the wake of October 2023, German diplomats have taken a cautious line on Israel-Palestine at the UN, abstaining on four of at least seven Gaza- and Palestine-related General Assembly resolutions, including early texts calling for a humanitarian truce or ceasefire, Palestine’s enhanced UN membership bid, and a resolution demanding that Israel end its unlawful presence in occupied Palestinian territory. Berlin later voted for ceasefire resolutions, but by then the political damage had been done.
Trita Parsi of the Quincy Institute has argued that Ukraine could not explain the defeat because Portugal and Austria are also supportive of Kyiv. In this reading, the decisive issue was Germany’s support for Israel and Berlin’s willingness to undermine international law on Israel’s behalf. Craig Mokhiber, a former senior UN human rights official, went further, linking the defeat to Germany’s position on Palestine, Iran and the treatment of pro-Palestinian activists inside Germany.
Berlin’s difficulty was deepened by its conduct beyond UN voting. Chancellor Friedrich Merz visited Israel and met Benjamin Netanyahu despite the International Criminal Court’s arrest warrant against the Israeli prime minister and the International Court of Justice’s orders in the genocide case brought by South Africa. Merz also said Germany had no plans to recognise a Palestinian state “in the foreseeable future.” Germany lifted a temporary suspension on arms-export approvals for weapons that could be used in Gaza. Added to criticism over police handling of pro-Palestinian activism at home, the picture presented to many UN voters was not of a balanced defender of international law but of a state asking to be trusted despite visible exceptions in its own doctrine.
Russia’s role still matters. Wadephul said it was “no secret” that Moscow worked against Germany because Berlin has been one of Ukraine’s most important European backers. That is plausible. Russia understands the UN’s corridors, committees and grudges. It knows how to turn Western contradictions into diplomatic currency. But Russia alone could not have produced this outcome. Its campaign needed an audience, and Gaza gave many states a reason to listen.
This is where Pakistan’s experience on the Council offers a useful contrast. Pakistan’s current term has not given it veto power, nor has it allowed Islamabad to remake the Council. But it has shown what elected membership can still do: place issues on the table, press legal language, request consultations, chair committees, and make permanent members respond to arguments they would rather avoid. During its presidency, Pakistan framed its role around dialogue, peaceful dispute settlement and a “principled and balanced perspective.” Its envoy’s repeated warnings on Gaza that “words of concern are no longer enough” spoke to precisely the mood that hurt Germany: the impatience of member states with diplomacy that mourns civilians but avoids political cost. Kyrgyzstan’s election to replace Pakistan now changes the regional tone. Bishkek will bring Central Asian concerns – water, borders, terrorism, connectivity and great-power competition – into a Council already crowded with Iran, Gaza, Ukraine, Sudan and climate insecurity. Once the term ends, influence must be sustained through coalition-building outside the chamber.
Germany’s defeat, therefore, belongs to a wider UN moment. Just a day earlier, the General Assembly elected Bangladesh’s foreign minister, Khalilur Rahman, as its next president. Meanwhile, UN Secretary?General António Guterres is pushing an UN80 reform agenda that aims to streamline the organisation, cut duplication and relocate posts out of expensive hubs. Discussions on selecting Guterres’ successor are already beginning behind the scenes. Gaza and Ukraine have simultaneously paralysed and politicised the Security Council. In such a climate, elected seats matter more because they are among the few tools through which the wider membership can register discomfort without rewriting the Charter.
The writer is OpEd Editor (Daily Times) and can be reached at durenayab786 @gmail.com. Shetweets@DureAkram.