It’s 4:30 a.m. and in a windowless chamber at United Nations Headquarters, dozens of delegates erupt into applause. Over weeks of closed-door negotiations, countries have dueled over “may” becoming “must” until nightfall. But, as the photo-op of exhausted faces signals, it’s over – at least for the 2022 session of the Commission on the Status of Women. That is, until next year.
Established in 1946, the CSW convenes member states annually to negotiate “Agreed Conclusions,” a set of non-binding recommendations on gender equality intended to influence national policies.
But the cooperative tone of “Agreed” does little to capture the divisiveness of the negotiations. Prior to taking their seats, even countries without diplomatic relations aren’t averse to a friendly schmooze, and representatives speak unequivocally – including one ex-Iran envoy labelling the Ayatollah Khamenei as being a “psychopathic.” Once microphones shine red, however, language shifts to political doublespeak, and semantic battle lines are drawn.
Why lock horns over “people” instead of “persons”? The cynical answer: deprived of arms in the UN arena, countries must assert their agenda via alternative means, namely, by weaponizing language. However, mindful of the optics, it’s politically inexpedient to explicitly assert one’s rationale for specific lexicon, even when off the record – so, countries get creative.
Reading between the lines
Professionalizing categories subtly narrows the scope of terms. For this reason, Country-C substituted “media workers” – which implicitly legitimizes irregular media – with “media professionals.” To a similar effect, Country-H swapped out technical language with value-based synonyms: unlike “health services,” “health care” does not accept abortion as a medical procedure.
In addition, countries replace dynamic verbs with static ones to dilute their level of commitment. Country-I preferred “Noting” rather than “welcoming... gender equality” while Country-E supported “gender-sensitive” against Coalition-E’s “gender-responsive,” as the former term only acknowledges gender issues without obligating action.
Another strategy involves falsely framing rights as zero-sum. Officially, Country-H objected to mentioning “women’s rights defenders” on the grounds that this prioritizes female activists’ rights over other women. In all likelihood, however, the term’s endorsement of activism comprised the real issue.
Finally, countries circumscribe the types of accepted contributors. Country-S1 would accept hearing from “civil society organizations with consultative status of the ECOSOC” (Economic and Social Council) but not “civil society, young people, and other stakeholders.” ECOSOC empowers member states to vet and veto civil society organizations, thereby incentivizing self-censorship – a perfect arrangement for authoritarian regimes. Likewise, Country-E inserted “relevant” before “stakeholders”; without stipulating criteria, anyone can be arbitrarily excluded for “irrelevance.”
How the UN process shapes negotiation tactics
The logic of the UN system further explains delegations’ intransigence. First, adding a new paragraph constitutes a more major change than editing an existing paragraph, hence the reason that changes are often gratingly pernickety.
Second, once incorporated, new phrasing becomes more difficult to extricate in CSW’s ensuing iterations; “previously agreed language” is quoted verbatim as proof of its legitimacy. As such, a hyperfixation on only a few words – or a word – is driven by reasonable concern about future ramifications.
Third, elections can transform today’s allies into tomorrow’s adversaries. Brazil under Bolsonaro or Lula, and the US under Biden or Trump, are very different beasts. Therefore, maximizing present possibilities is crucial – before it’s too late.
Fourth, words’ inherent malleability provokes suspicions about how seemingly agreeable language can be manipulated to serve an opponent’s agenda. For instance, adding the quantifier “all” before “women and girls” shifts the parameters to include transgender individuals. Attempts to surreptitiously insert removed language into later paragraphs equally sows a degree of paranoia. As a result, trust is not forthcoming.
The facilitator’s balancing act
During the first and second readings, states make their displeasure with proposed amendments known. Country-U1 and Country-U2 complained about “a small but vocal minority wanting to roll back progress... It is alarming that CSW has nearly sunk below the benchmark of previously agreed language. One delegation even sought to undermine language on women with disabilities.”
Notwithstanding their strongly-worded criticisms (by UN standards), which bloc prevails hinges on the facilitator. In 2022, the German facilitator refused recess until countries broke deadlocks, and demanded straight answers from stubborn delegates, thereby enabling progress.
That said, it’s a delicate balancing act: acquiesce to progressives’ demands and appear biased, or overcompensate in favor of conservatives and appear weak – either of which could invite a vote. Still, this assumes the facilitator sympathizes with CSW’s objectives; Tunisia served as facilitator in 2002 and 2003 despite the republic’s “marry your rapist” law – not repealed until 2017.
Courting the facilitator
Nonetheless, quarrelling with the facilitator is an unflattering look. In order to avoid appearing argumentative and disingenuous, delegates either keep a low profile while a country with the same agenda does the dirty work of speaking up, or they sugarcoat defiance with evasive explanations.
For example, representatives portray animosity as motivated by respect for the different thematic and linguistic traditions of UN institutions, claiming that “These subjects could be addressed elsewhere” or “The General Assembly’s agreed language differs from ECOSOC’s… messing with language takes us out of the agreed formulation.”
Alternatively, states reject a term for “lack[ing] an internationally-agreed legal definition” or simply being “hard to understand.” If all else fails, intentional filibustering is excused as a timezone-related delay; diplomats’ hands are tied until their bosses wake up: “I’m awaiting instructions from my capital.”
Glimpses of genuine collaboration
Still, inter-state interactions don’t all involve verbal headbutting. Multilateral negotiations provide an opening for countries with fraught bilateral relations to collaborate on topics of mutual agreement, momentarily setting aside rifts on other matters. At CSW, Country-I cooperated with Country-S2 on women’s rights despite clashing on the Palestinian issue. In doing so, building blocks for improved relations – contacts and goodwill – are put in place.
A disappointing finale
So what’s ultimately to show after weeks of linguistic gymnastics? A final draft, which is publicly available.
Yet, the reality falls short. Ironically, “Agreed Conclusions” are not necessarily “agreed.” To avoid blame for destroying weeks of negotiations and forcing a vote – a diplomatic faux pax – select missions “agree” yet disassociate from problematic language. Indeed, Country M2 approved the text “in each and every one of its parts which are not contrary to Islamic Sharia.” Other countries “agree” but fail to ratify the text in their national legislative bodies, as the US demonstrated in 2024: “We note these Agreed Conclusions do not change the current state of conventional or customary international law and do not create new legal obligations.”
In a world of all talk and no action, the nuances of language become the axis around which the UN globe turns. By perpetuating an illusion of consensus through carefully-chosen phrasing, the world’s premier diplomatic forum achieves neither normative nor de facto progress. It’s a complaint I saw repeatedly levelled against the UN by the diplomats themselves – all behind closed doors, of course.
The writer reads War Studies at King’s College London and serves as a Policy Fellow at the Pinsker Centre.