A Chinese diplomat's Geneva diary

Walking through the grand hall of the Palais des Nations, I was struck by the mix of hope and tension that defines this year's Human Rights Council (HRC) sessions.

As a young Chinese diplomat attending the HRC session for the first time, I have braced myself for heated debates, but the undercurrents of change here are palpable. The 58th HRC session has become a microcosm of a shifting global order—one where old alliances fray, new voices emerge, and ideological divides deepen.

Vacant offices

My first observation came not from the conference rooms but the streets of Geneva. Cafés near the UN district, once bustling with NGO workers, now put up "For Lease" notices.

A colleague of mine told me that after the US quit the Council again this year, many NGOs lost funding overnight and had to downsize or close down entirely. Landlords, once assured of steady tenants, were reluctantly lowering rents. American-backed NGOs, who had occupied sleek offices near the Palais, either moved their offices far away or even dissolved the whole team.

The lesson is clear: when major powers disengage, the ripple effects extend beyond politics to the livelihoods of ordinary people who depend on this ecosystem.

A house divided

The Council's side events laid bare a world in fragmentation.

In one conference room, a European delegation was hosting a forum on minority rights. The room was adorned with rainbow flags and slogan about gender equality. Yet there were few attendees from Muslim-majority nations.

Meanwhile, in another room downstairs, delegates of Muslim-majority countries gathered to discuss preserving family values in a changing world. Cultural sovereignty and traditional social structures took center stage, a clear pushback against perceived Western overreach.

The divide was unmistakable—two parallel events, held simultaneously in the same building, clashed not just in subject but in principle. Attendees rarely crossed between rooms, even coffee breaks were kept separate.

This underscored a troubling trend: human rights discourse was originally intended to unite nations, but it has now been weaponized, turning into echo chambers that isolate rather than connect with each other.

China's voice

The Resolution on the Right of the Palestinian People to Self-determination was adopted on April 4 with 43 yes votes out of a total of 47. China and most members voted for it. This outcome affirmed a global consensus: the Palestinian people's lawful rights deserve respect, and justice delayed can no longer be justified.

China's long-held principles—opposing illegal occupation, upholding the two-state solution on historical and legal grounds—resonated deeply.

"The same nations condemning Russia's actions fall silent on decades of Palestinian suffering," said a Cuban diplomat, "Hypocrisy undermines their moral authority. Principles, not power, must guide justice."

Walking Geneva's peaceful streets

On the final evening, I wandered along Geneva's cobblestoned lanes, passing the Jet d'Eau glowing over Lake Léman. History echoed in this place: It is where the first Geneva Convention was signed in 1864. It is also where the UN's founders vowed "never again" after two World Wars in 1945.

Yet, eighty years on, such aspirations remain elusive.

As I walked around the Palais des Nations at sunset, a group of schoolchildren were chasing pigeons, laughing. The Broken Chair monument stood tall with its splintered leg, a silent rebuke to violence. Eighty years after the end of WWII, Geneva remains a shrine to peace, and also a mirror reflecting humanity's unlearned lessons. The UN's 80th anniversary needs not just commemorations, but courage to deliver our promises in the UN Charter to confront today's crises.

This session reaffirmed China's role as a voice for the marginalized countries and a defender of principles over power politics. True human rights progress begins not with hegemony, but humility to listen—to the displaced, the overlooked and the Global South.

As I passed the Broken Chair, its silhouette spoke louder than any resolution: even in brokenness, there lies resilience and hope.

(The author is a junior Chinese diplomat.)