The Diplomacy of Taking Sides: Are Countries Trading Neutrality for Influence?
The mass walkout during Benjamin Netanyahu's UN speech looked like a dramatic diplomatic statement.
But behind the theatre lies a more complicated question: when governments publicly choose sides, what does it do to their ability to negotiate with everyone else?
On 24 September 2026, Benjamin Netanyahu began addressing the United Nations General Assembly in New York.
Within moments, dozens of delegates began leaving the chamber.
The scene was highly visible: representatives stood, gathered their papers and filed out as the Israeli prime minister approached the podium.
Reuters described dozens of delegates walking out, while other reporting identified delegations from countries including Türkiye, Palestine, Tunisia, Syria, Algeria, Yemen, Egypt, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Iran, Qatar, Lebanon, Malaysia, Indonesia and Kuwait among those participating in the protest. Some countries reportedly left only some representatives behind, while others were not present for the address.
Netanyahu responded by accusing those who left of moral cowardice.
But the more interesting question may not be what happened inside the UN chamber. It is what happens afterwards. Because modern diplomacy increasingly appears to involve two parallel games.
One is conducted behind closed doors: negotiations, ceasefires, intelligence exchanges, hostage discussions, security guarantees and attempts to prevent wars from spreading.
The other happens in public: votes, speeches, recognition of states, sanctions, joint declarations, diplomatic boycotts and highly visible gestures such as walking out of an opponent's speech.
The two games are not necessarily compatible.
The rise of public positioning
Governments have always made public statements about international conflicts. What appears to be changing is the scale and importance of those statements.
The Gaza conflict has produced increasingly explicit diplomatic blocs. Countries have issued joint declarations, recognised Palestine, condemned Israeli policies, criticised Hamas, backed ceasefires, imposed or discussed sanctions and publicly associated themselves with particular diplomatic initiatives.
The September 2026 UN week provided a particularly striking example.
On 21 September, foreign ministers from Pakistan, Egypt, Jordan, Qatar, Indonesia, Türkiye, Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates met in New York and issued a joint statement concerning Gaza.
They called for humanitarian access, implementation of the Gaza roadmap, Israeli withdrawal, rejection of forced displacement and progress towards a Palestinian state. They also criticised Israeli settlement expansion and called for accountability over settler violence.
But the same statement contained something potentially more significant; the eight governments welcomed continued American involvement.
They explicitly described the United States as having an indispensable role in implementing the plan and called for sustained US engagement with the parties involved.
That is diplomacy in its modern form: publicly criticising one party while simultaneously acknowledging that another power may be indispensable to achieving a settlement.
It is not necessarily contradictory. It may be the point.
Pakistan provides an intriguing case study
Pakistan is particularly interesting because of the country's simultaneous diplomatic roles. Pakistan has positioned itself as an intermediary in the conflict involving Iran and the United States.
Earlier in September, Pakistan's UN ambassador said Islamabad was pressing both Washington and Tehran to return to negotiations. He described distrust on both sides as a major obstacle and argued that negotiations remained the sustainable route out of the confrontation.
Pakistan therefore wants access to both sides. Yet on Gaza, Pakistan has adopted a very public position alongside a group of Arab and Muslim-majority states.
And then came the Netanyahu speech. Pakistan was among the delegations reported to have joined the walkout.
That raises an uncomfortable diplomatic question: Can a government simultaneously present itself as an impartial intermediary in one conflict while publicly demonstrating that it has chosen a side in another?
The answer is probably yes—but neutrality is not the only ingredient required for mediation.
Mediation isn't necessarily neutrality
A common misconception is that a mediator must be neutral. That isn't necessarily how international diplomacy works. A mediator can have strong political preferences while still being useful to both sides.
The real requirement may be something closer to access and credibility.
Can the mediator speak to everyone?
Will opposing governments answer its telephone calls?
Does each side believe that confidential conversations will remain confidential?
Does the mediator have something the participants want—money, military influence, diplomatic recognition, intelligence, geography, economic access or relationships with other powers?
Pakistan's Iran-US role demonstrates this distinction. Pakistan does not need to be ideologically neutral on every Middle Eastern question in order to communicate with Washington and Tehran.
But there is a potential cost if its public positions become so entrenched that one side no longer believes it can trust Islamabad.
That is where public diplomacy becomes strategically important.
The problem with permanent public positioning
Imagine a hypothetical country that repeatedly declares: "Country A is the aggressor." It does this in speeches, it votes accordingly at international organisations, it joins sanctions, and, its politicians appear at demonstrations.
Its diplomats walk out of Country A's leader's speeches. Its media celebrates the government's position.
Domestically, this can be politically useful. Internationally, however, the country has created a record.
If six months later Country A needs somebody to negotiate with Country B on its behalf, Country A may reasonably ask: Why should we trust you?
The answer might still be convincing. But the diplomatic cost of the earlier public positioning cannot simply be erased.
Statements remain online. Votes remain recorded. Sanctions remain in force. Photographs remain. And diplomatic gestures become part of a country's reputation.
But taking a side can also increase influence
There is another side to this. Public alignment can create credibility with the countries on the other side.
A government that consistently supports the Palestinian position may be considered more trustworthy by Arab and Muslim governments. A government that consistently supports Israel may have greater credibility with Israel and its closest allies.
A government that strongly supports Ukraine may be more trusted in Kyiv and several European capitals. And a government that maintains close relations with Russia may retain access to Moscow that other countries have lost.
In other words, taking sides can close some doors while opening others.
Diplomatic influence is not necessarily maximised by being neutral everywhere. Sometimes it comes from becoming the person who one particular group knows will reliably stand with them.
That reliability itself can become an asset.
The new currency: credibility
This may mean that international diplomacy is developing a new form of currency. Not simply money or military power, but credibility with particular networks of countries.
Consider three hypothetical diplomats:
- the first has excellent relations with everybody but is trusted by nobody
- the second has poor relations with half the world but is deeply trusted by the other half
- the third has publicly positioned his country on certain issues but has maintained private channels with its opponents
Which is most useful?
There is no universal answer. It depends on the dispute. And that is why the Netanyahu walkout is more interesting than the images suggest.
The walkout tells us something about public positioning. It tells us much less about what those governments are saying privately.
The public and private diplomacy gap
This distinction is crucial. A government can condemn another country publicly while privately maintaining diplomatic channels. It can vote against a country at the UN while maintaining trade. It can impose sanctions while negotiating behind the scenes.
It can walk out of a speech while still answering the telephone.
Diplomacy has always contained this contradiction. The difference today is that the public component is much harder to control. A single photograph of dozens of diplomats leaving a room can travel around the world within minutes.
The gesture becomes a political message for domestic audiences, foreign governments and international organisations simultaneously.
The walkout therefore has value even if it changes nothing at the negotiating table. It demonstrates where a government stands.
And governments increasingly appear to understand the value of that demonstration.
Does this make future diplomacy harder?
Possibly. The danger is diplomatic lock-in. The more strongly a government publicly identifies itself with one position, the harder it may become politically to compromise later.
Suppose a government has repeatedly demanded that another country withdraw completely from a territory. It later negotiates a settlement involving a partial withdrawal.
The government may have to explain why its previous position has changed.
The same applies to ceasefires, territorial compromises, prisoner exchanges and recognition. Public rhetoric can create domestic expectations. Those expectations can restrict diplomats.
In this sense, social-media-era diplomacy can produce something paradoxical: the more loudly a government demonstrates its position, the less room its diplomats may have to change it.
And there is another problem: everyone is watching everyone else
Countries aren't only communicating with their adversary. They are communicating with their allies.
A government that refuses to condemn an ally may be accused of hypocrisy. A government that condemns an ally too strongly risks damaging the alliance. A government that remains silent may be interpreted as supportive. A government that walks out may be interpreted as taking a side.
Even staying in the room becomes a message.
That was particularly apparent during Netanyahu's speech. The empty seats attracted almost as much attention as the speech itself.
And countries that remained could equally be scrutinised;
- Why did they stay?
- Was it support for Israel?
- Respect for diplomatic protocol?
- A desire to hear what Netanyahu had to say?
- A decision to keep communication channels open?
- Or simply because the government didn't want to participate in the protest?
The same physical action can have completely different diplomatic meanings.
The UN is becoming part theatre, part negotiation
There is a broader lesson here. The United Nations General Assembly is simultaneously:
- a diplomatic forum
- a public stage
- a place for coalition-building
- a platform for domestic political messaging
- a mechanism for recording international opinion
- and, occasionally, a venue for actual negotiation
Those functions can conflict.
A government may make a speech knowing perfectly well that the other side will reject every word. The purpose may be to persuade its own population, strengthen an alliance, influence undecided countries or establish a position that can later be used in negotiations.
The walkout works in a similar way. It may not alter Netanyahu's policy. But it communicates something to the countries that organised or participated in it.
So is it virtue signalling?
Sometimes it probably is. But that phrase can obscure the strategic calculation. A government may simultaneously be:
- signalling to its domestic population
- signalling solidarity to allies
- signalling opposition to an adversary
- building credibility within a diplomatic bloc
- preserving private channels for future negotiations
Those objectives can coexist. The real question is whether the public gesture produces a diplomatic benefit greater than the flexibility it sacrifices.
And that is impossible to determine simply by watching the walkout.
The Pakistan paradox
Pakistan may therefore provide one of the most interesting examples.
On Gaza, it joined seven other countries in demanding implementation of a roadmap involving Israeli withdrawal and a pathway towards Palestinian statehood. At the same time, Pakistan has been trying to bring Iran and the United States back to negotiations.
Its diplomats have argued that distrust between Washington and Tehran is an obstacle and that Pakistan can help keep communication alive.
Then its representatives participated in the highly visible protest against Netanyahu.
None of those actions necessarily prevents Pakistan from mediating. But they do create a diplomatic record.
And that record will be remembered.
If Pakistan eventually finds itself sitting across a negotiating table from Israel—or needs Israel's cooperation on a wider regional settlement—the question becomes whether today's public positioning has increased Islamabad's influence or reduced its room for manoeuvre.
That is the real experiment taking place.
The bigger question
The Netanyahu walkout is therefore less interesting as a piece of political theatre than as evidence of a changing diplomatic environment.
Countries are increasingly required to show their position publicly. Their citizens now come to expect it. Their allies expect it. Social media amplifies it. And once a position has been publicly demonstrated, changing that position becomes harder.
Diplomacy, however, often depends upon precisely the opposite quality: the ability to change position.
The best negotiators sometimes need to retreat from yesterday's rhetoric, accept something they previously rejected, speak to someone they publicly condemned, or make a compromise that would have been politically impossible six months earlier.
That creates a fundamental tension. Public diplomacy rewards certainty, yet private diplomacy requires flexibility.
The countries that navigate the next decade successfully may not necessarily be those that shout the loudest.
They may be the countries capable of doing both: taking a public position when they need to—and keeping enough doors open to negotiate with the people on the other side.
The empty seats at the UN therefore tell only half the story. The more consequential question is: Who was still talking to whom after the cameras stopped rolling?
Confirmed walkouts — 24 September 2026
🇦🇫 Afghanistan
🇩🇿 Algeria
🇧🇩 Bangladesh
🇧🇳 Brunei Darussalam
🇮🇩 Indonesia
🇮🇷 Iran
🇮🇶 Iraq
🇰🇬 Kyrgyzstan
🇲🇾 Malaysia
🇲🇻 Maldives
🇲🇪 Montenegro
🇲🇲 Myanmar
🇵🇰 Pakistan
🇸🇦 Saudi Arabia
🇱🇰 Sri Lanka
🇸🇩 Sudan
🇹🇳 Tunisia
🇹🇷 Türkiye
🇹🇲 Turkmenistan
🇺🇿 Uzbekistan
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