UNGA, egg throwing, and few questions from conscious citizens

Every September, the United Nations General Assembly (UNGA) meets in New York. Heads of state and government from almost every country gather there. They present their country’s position, challenges and priorities, seek international support, and take part in various meetings. For Bangladesh too, this visit has never been an exception. Since independence, almost every government has given special importance to the UNGA trip and highlighted it heavily.

But this also raises several questions—what is the real importance of these trips? Who joins as part of the delegation? Who pays for it? And what do these visits teach us from the perspective of political economy?

This year’s trip attracted even more attention because of the egg-throwing incident targeting NCP leader Akhter Hossain. Some criticised the Chief Adviser, arguing that the security of the guests was the responsibility of the government and the Bangladesh Mission. Having people photographed on the flight and then leaving them exposed after landing was undoubtedly a careless and unreasonable decision.

The egg throwers must be condemned, as such behaviour can never be considered a civil or decent form of protest. At the same time, the negligence of government officials here is equally clear.

The UN General Assembly is not a place for binding decision-making, but it is a powerful diplomatic stage. The resolutions passed are not legally binding, but they do reflect global public opinion. On issues like Palestine or the Russia–Ukraine war, UNGA resolutions have carried significant weight in international politics.

For emerging countries like Bangladesh, this platform is vital. It creates opportunities to present positions on issues such as climate change, peacekeeping, labour migration, or sustainable development. The real attraction lies in the sideline meetings, where leaders get to negotiate and engage with the major powers. Many call the UNGA an “annual world fair”, where taking part means ensuring the country’s presence is visibly recognised.

In Bangladesh, as in many countries, heads of government travel to the UNGA with large delegations. These usually include government officials, diplomats, security personnel, media representatives, and sometimes business or NGO delegates. But in reality, although the list of delegates is often announced as limited, the actual number turns out to be much larger. Sometimes relatives or close political associates are also included.

In political economy, such practices are described as “political patronage”—a means of rewarding loyalty and distributing privileges. Ruling parties often turn international trips into tools of reward and favour.

In the 2025 visit of the Yunus government, four political leaders (from BNP, Jamaat, and NCP) were taken along in an an unprecedented step. The interim government tried to project this as a form of “national consensus”. But this move too sparked debate—since the opposition leaders knew they had no direct role in the General Assembly proceedings.

In almost every country, the state bears the expenses of the head of government and officials. The controversy arises when those with no official responsibility also travel abroad at state expense.

In Bangladesh, the state pays for business-class flights, five-star hotels, daily allowances, cars, and security for the delegates. But the details of these costs are never disclosed. Journalists rarely ask questions, because many of them also enjoy the same facilities. As a result, there is no space for accountability.

Here another political economy theory comes into view—“elite capture.” State resources and opportunities are concentrated in the hands of a small group, while taxpayers’ money is used for their luxury and indulgence. The UNGA trip is a vivid example of this theory in practice.

Corruption is not just about taking bribes; the misuse of state funds for unnecessary purposes is also corruption. When a political leader knows he has no role in the UNGA session but still travels abroad at state expense, this too should be considered corruption. This raises a bigger question: if BNP or Jamaat present themselves as honest and principled, why don’t they travel at their own expense? Why do they agree to luxurious trips funded by public money?

The same experience is seen across almost all South Asian countries. In Pakistan, Nepal, or Sri Lanka too, ruling elites use such trips to reward their close associates. In recent years, India’s Narendra Modi has not attended the UNGA. Even the President of the United States sometimes attends, sometimes not. For major powers, such visits are not essential. But for smaller states, they serve as a display of political legitimacy.

To reduce controversy over future UNGA trips, some policy measures are essential—the full list of delegates should be published in advance, with each person’s role stated; detailed expenses should be presented in parliament or made public; journalists should go beyond “who said what” and ask “how many went, why they went, and how much was spent.” The UNGA is undoubtedly an important international stage. For a country like Bangladesh, it provides opportunities to build international opinion on climate change, migration, development cooperation, and peacekeeping. But at the same time, the political and economic debates surrounding these trips make clear that what gets more attention is not our diplomacy, but the luxury enjoyed by the political elite. It becomes less about running the state and more about distributing privileges among the powerful.

If we truly want to build an accountable state, we must first ask—why should taxpayers’ money fund politicians’ luxury trips? Why should the full list and expenses be kept secret? Why should journalists remain silent? And why should opposition leaders be eager to enjoy these privileges?

The importance of UNGA trips cannot be denied, but when they are turned into political tourism, they become nothing less than corruption. To break this culture of corruption and plunder, the role of conscious citizens is vital. Political elites must know through public opinion and civic pressure that people will no longer quietly accept everything.

Just as protecting the country’s image on the international stage is important, so too is ensuring transparency, accountability, and good governance at home. If heads of government truly want to stand before the world as representatives of the people, they must first be transparent before their own citizens. Only then can real trust be built between the state and its people.

Chiroranjan Sarker: Columnist