On 11 September 2001 I was in New York, on one of my frequent visits to the United Nations, to which I was tied by a consultancy contract. That morning I woke up late, around eleven, sleeping off the jet lag of the flight from Italy. I was staying at the Hyatt Park, today the Millennium. A hotel a few metres from the Glass Palace, built to serve the world of the United Nations.

Will the General Assembly Continue to be Subservient to the P-5 Refusing to Challenge the Nominee for UN Chief?
Transnational Repression: A World Without Refuge
Countries must increase AI regulation to avoid ‘existential risks’: Türk
Civilians bear the brunt, with deadly US strikes in Iran and thousands displaced in Yemen
Highly persistent toxic waste threatens ‘many, if not all, human rights’
Money sent home by migrants nearly doubles in a decade