The Eternal U.N.: Is there anything America can do?

'One thing is certain," runs the magnificent old journalistic cliche, "things will never be the same again." The correct response, usually, is a dry "Oh, really?" But the war that is about to burst upon us almost certainly justifies this prediction. The unique status of the United States as a quasi-imperial power; the Atlantic Alliance and NATO; relations with Russia, China, France, and Germany; the future of Iraq and other Middle Eastern regimes; nuclear proliferation; the world's attitude toward "rogue states"; the war on terrorism -- all are likely to be transformed by the Anglo-American invasion of Iraq. Will the war also transform that shimmering mirage of international comity on the East River, the United Nations? If the alternative is its own disappearance, the U.N. will certainly accept transformation. Ever since its inception in 1944, the U.N. has been a reflection of the prevailing international power struggle -- a distorted reflection, to be sure, but a reflection nonetheless.

From 1948 to 1956, the U.N. was dominated by America and its allies -- to the point that when the Soviets threatened to veto intervention in Korea in the Security Council, the U.S. persuaded the General Assembly to authorize it via a controversial and probably illegal "Uniting for Peace" resolution. From 1956 to circa 1968, the U.S. shifted sideways from its European allies to join the gaggle of newly arrived Third World states in condemning semi-colonial ventures such as Suez; there was some loose talk about America's really being a "revolutionary" power.

Vietnam brought that alliance to an end, and from 1968 to 1989, the U.S. shifted back to its European allies to resist a de facto Third World-Soviet axis over such issues as South Africa and the "Zionism is Racism" resolution. The General Assembly became a theater for the psychodrama of Western guilt and Third World accusation; Yasser Arafat addressed the chamber in guerilla fatigues with a revolver tucked into his waistband. Since 1989, the U.N. has been confused -- especially in its attitude toward the U.S.

For practical purposes, the Security Council has wanted the cooperation of the sole remaining superpower in peacekeeping operations, such as Kosovo; meanwhile, the secretary-general has been organizing non- governmental organizations into an "international civil society" as a kind of moral counterweight to American power. Other things being equal, Kofi Annan -- who has desired, for some years, an independent military force under his command -- would like the Security Council to order military action against a notorious war criminal. But using U.S. forces against an Arab dictator arouses all the usual anti-colonial hackles on the left; so, in the recent diplomatic bargaining, an ambivalent U.N. has looked nervous and increasingly irrelevant. In the end a divided Security Council was stymied by the threat of a French veto, and Annan was reduced to muttering halfhearted warnings that U.S. action without U.N. approval would be tainted with illegitimacy. The final sad impression was of exhausted contestants in a carnival speech marathon from which the fickle crowd was drifting away to the strong man next door. If the war turns out well for the U.S. and Britain, the U.N. will have to find a role that suits these new realities.

But which U.N.? There are really four U.N.'s, and the U.S. might reasonably take four different attitudes toward them. First, there is the Security Council, which is occasionally useful to the great powers because it enables them to reach compromises on delicate problems under cover of collective diplomacy. Its veto exists for good, conservative reasons -- namely, to prevent one great power from using the U.N. to bless its intrusion into the vital interests of another great power. And when the great powers agree, the Security Council can actually do good. For instance, if they want to halt genocide in a situation like Rwanda, they can arrange for the Security ...