Editorial

The United Nations Security Council’s endorsement of the U.S.-led Gaza peace plan marks a rare moment of global consensus in a conflict that has, for years, defied diplomacy. After months of devastation, political stalemate, and humanitarian collapse, the resolution signals both an opportunity and a warning: opportunities for peace are fragile, and the cost of ignoring them is immeasurable. With the UN now prepared to facilitate implementation on the ground, the world stands at a crossroads where diplomatic will must finally match humanitarian urgency.

The Gaza conflict has reached an intolerable threshold—thousands dead, millions displaced, and the region’s basic infrastructure reduced to rubble. Against this backdrop, the Security Council’s backing is more than symbolic; it is a call to action. Yet history teaches us that resolutions alone cannot guarantee peace. The success of this initiative will depend on whether all parties—Israel, Palestinian groups, regional actors, and global powers—show genuine commitment rather than strategic compliance.

What makes this moment especially stark is the contrast between the modest demands of peace and the enormous resources consistently devoted to war. On the same day the resolution was adopted, the World Food Programme released a sobering figure: ending global hunger by 2030 would require $93 billion annually, less than 1% of global military expenditure in recent years. This comparison is not merely symbolic—it exposes a profound moral failure of international priorities.

The Gaza crisis embodies this contradiction. Billions have been spent on weapons, surveillance, and warfare, yet basic necessities—food, water, electricity—remain out of reach for civilians trapped in the conflict. If even a fraction of global defence budgets were redirected to reconstruction and humanitarian assistance, Gaza’s long-term recovery could shift from a distant hope to an achievable reality.

The UN’s endorsement, therefore, must be seen not just as a diplomatic milestone but as a test of global conscience. Will the world choose sustained peacebuilding over temporary ceasefires? Will humanitarian obligations finally outweigh geopolitical calculations? And can global institutions reclaim moral authority in an era where conflict often overshadows compassion?

The coming weeks will determine whether this peace plan becomes another missed opportunity or the beginning of a durable solution. For Gaza—and for a world weary of endless wars—the answer cannot come soon enough. The international community must now prove that its commitment to peace is as strong as its capacity for conflict.

India today celebrates the 76th anniversary of the adoption of its Constitution with ceremonies led by President Droupadi Murmu in the historic Central Hall of the old Parliament building. Across the nation, schools, institutions, and government offices are holding programs extolling democratic values, constitutional morality, and the legacy of November 26, 1949. Yet amid all the patriotic speeches and cultural performances, a sharper question lingers: are we truly honouring the Constitution, or merely ritualising it?

Constitution Day has increasingly become a spectacle of carefully curated symbolism. Leaders speak passionately about liberty, equality, and justice, while the ground realities tell a more uncomfortable story. Freedom of expression is under strain, parliamentary debate has shrunk, and the space for dissent has become narrower than at any time in recent memory. Courts are overloaded, institutions weakened, and the very spirit of constitutional checks and balances appears fatigued.

Ironically, this year’s celebrations take place in a Parliament whose new building has replaced the very Central Hall where India’s constitutional journey began. While heritage is evoked in speeches, the deeper heritage of deliberation, accountability, and transparency struggles for breath inside these institutions.

The Constitution demands not commemoration, but commitment. Democracy is not strengthened by annual events, but by everyday adherence to constitutional principles. When social inequalities widen, when majoritarian impulses grow unchecked, and when constitutional offices operate under pressure, the rituals of November 26 ring hollow.

Constitution Day should remind the nation that our founding document is not a symbol, but a safeguard. It must not become an annual exercise in self-congratulation. Instead, it should push the government, institutions, and citizens to introspect: Are we living up to the Constitution we so proudly celebrate? If the answer is uncertain, then today’s ceremonies must serve as a wake-up call—not a comfort.

• SAS Kirmani