Four years. That’s 1,460 days of drone footage, Telegram-fueled doomscrolling, and the steady rhythm of artillery flattening cities we couldn't find on a map in 2021. And what does the international community have to show for it? Another PDF.

The UN General Assembly just wrapped its latest session on the Russia-Ukraine war. The result was a draft resolution calling for a "just and lasting peace." It sounds nice. It’s the diplomatic equivalent of a "Thoughts and Prayers" tweet from a brand account. When the dust settled, India was among 51 countries that decided to sit this one out. They abstained. Again.

It’s a predictable ritual. Every few months, the West puts a piece of paper in front of the world and asks everyone to sign it to prove they’re the "good guys." And every time, New Delhi looks at the document, looks at its fuel bills, and gently pushes the paper back across the table.

India’s choice isn't about being indecisive. It’s a feature, not a bug. They call it "strategic autonomy," which is a fancy way of saying they don't want to break their toys. You don't dump the guy who supplies your S-400 missile defense systems—a $5.4 billion hardware commitment—just because the neighbors are shouting. Especially when those same neighbors are still trying to figure out if they can survive a winter without the very gas they’re telling everyone else to boycott.

The 51 countries that abstained aren't a monolith. They’re a messy collection of states that have realized the "Rules-Based International Order" is a subscription service they can no longer afford. For India, the trade-offs are literal. While the US and EU talk about "defending democracy," New Delhi is busy processing millions of barrels of discounted Russian Urals crude. It’s a pragmatic, if cynical, arbitrage. You buy the cheap oil, refine it, and sell it back to the Europeans who are desperate for energy but need to maintain the optics of a moral high ground. Everyone gets what they want, and the war keeps grinding.

The resolution itself is toothless. It has the same legal weight as a Change.org petition. It demands Russia withdraw, which is about as effective as shouting at a hard drive that’s already been formatted with a magnet. Moscow isn't checking the UNGA vote tally before deciding where to aim the next Iskander missile.

But the abstainers tell a deeper story about the fracturing of the global tech and defense stack. We’re moving toward a world where you have to choose your ecosystem. Do you want the Western stack—complete with NATO interoperability, Silicon Valley surveillance, and moralizing press releases? Or do you want the alternative—a patchwork of Russian heavy metal, Chinese infrastructure, and a "don't ask, don't tell" policy on human rights?

India is trying to build a bridge between the two, but the bridge is looking shaky. You can’t be the world’s back office and its moral compass at the same time. The friction is getting louder. Washington wants India to be the counterweight to China, but New Delhi knows that if they alienate Moscow, they lose their leverage. It’s a three-dimensional chess game played with live ammunition.

The fourth anniversary of this invasion isn’t just a somber milestone for Ukraine; it’s a progress report on the obsolescence of 20th-century diplomacy. We have 51 nations essentially saying that the current system of "shaming" through non-binding votes is broken. They aren't voting for war, but they aren't voting for the West's version of peace either. They’re voting for their own survival, their own supply chains, and their own defense contracts.

The UNGA floor has become a theater of the absurd where the script never changes. The diplomats deliver their rehearsed lines, the buttons are pressed, and the tally appears on the screen. Then everyone goes to lunch while the trenches in Donbas get a little deeper.

If 51 countries—representing a massive chunk of the global population and several emerging economies—refuse to sign on to the "obvious" moral choice, maybe the choice isn't as obvious as the West thinks it is. Or maybe everyone has just realized that in a world of drone warfare and hypersonic missiles, a piece of paper is a pretty poor shield.

How many more anniversaries do we need before we admit that voting "Abstain" is the only honest thing left in the building?