Next US Democrat president likely holds the key to ushering in a Palestinian state with teeth after Albanese's act of 'empty symbolism'

Sky News AU

a day ago

When Anthony Albanese and Penny Wong announced that Australia would join France, Canada and the UK in recognising the State of Palestine, sceptics dismissed the move as empty symbolism, a naive flourish.
What does it actually mean in practical terms?
Will anything change on the ground, and if not, how might this decision still shape the course of events in the months and years ahead?
The answers lie less in the immediate impact than in the momentum it builds toward the one decision that really could alter the diplomatic map of the Middle East: recognition of Palestine by a United States president.
When France, Canada, the UK, and now Australia announce they are recognising the State of Palestine, it does not redraw a single border, dismantle a single settlement, or end a single blockade.
On the ground, the Israeli army remains in control of the West Bank, Hamas still rules Gaza, and East Jerusalem is still annexed to Israel in all but international law.
And yet, the political significance of this wave of recognition is hard to overstate.
For decades, the Western democracies that most loudly call for a 'two-state solution' have largely stopped short of recognising the second state.
That taboo is breaking.
Every time a big player such as France or the UK crosses the line, it chips away at the perception that recognising Palestine is an act of defiance against the Western diplomatic consensus.
It also does something subtler: it builds the moral and political scaffolding for the one decision that really could change the geopolitical map: recognition of Palestine by a United States president.
In international law, 'statehood' is not just a matter of waving a flag and issuing passports.
Under the widely cited Montevideo Convention of 1933, a state needs four things: a permanent population, a defined territory, a functioning government, and the capacity to enter relations with other states.
Palestine ticks most of these boxes, though the 'defined territory' is precisely the point of contention.
Recognition by other states is political, not legal.
It does not, in itself, create a state.
The real prize is full membership in the United Nations, which gives a state formal equality in the world's diplomatic arena.
That is where the roadblock has always been.
UN membership requires approval from the Security Council: nine of fifteen votes, and no veto from any of the five permanent members - the US, UK, France, Russia, and China.
For decades, the US has been a reliable veto against Palestinian membership, shielding Israel from resolutions that could impose timetables, sanctions or withdrawal requirements.
With France and the UK now onboard, the US is effectively the last P5 holdout, because Russia and China already support Palestinian statehood.
Moscow's support has roots in the Cold War.
The Soviet Union armed and trained Palestinian factions as part of its competition with the US for influence in the Arab world.
Today's Russia keeps the position out of both habit and calculation: it costs nothing domestically and buys goodwill in the Middle East, Africa, and the broader Global South.
China's stance is older still.
Beijing recognised the PLO as far back as 1965 and was among the first to recognise the State of Palestine in 1988.
For China, it is a straightforward play: align with the Arab League, appeal to developing nations, and present itself as a counterweight to Washington.
Palestinian statehood fits neatly into its 'multipolar world' pitch and into its Belt and Road energy diplomacy in the Gulf.
Both Russia and China consistently vote in favour of pro-Palestinian resolutions at the UN.
The obstacle has never been them.
It has been Washington.
Here is the part that often surprises people: recognition of a foreign state in the US is solely the president's prerogative.
Congress can cheer or fume, but the courts have made it clear in cases like 'Zivotofsky v. Kerry' that recognition is an executive power.
That means a future president, almost certainly a Democrat, could walk into the East Room on Day one and declare: 'The United States recognises the State of Palestine.'
The State Department could open an embassy in Ramallah, exchange ambassadors, and direct the US mission to the UN to vote in favour of Palestine's admission.
If the US flipped its vote, all five permanent members of the Security Council would suddenly be aligned.
Without a veto, Palestine's membership application would sail through to the General Assembly, where a two-thirds vote is a formality given that well over 140 countries already recognise it bilaterally.
Overnight, Palestine would become a full UN member state.
Diplomatically, full UN membership gives Palestine equal footing to Israel in international forums and courts.
It could pursue binding cases at the International Court of Justice, press war crimes allegations at the International Criminal Court, and sign treaties as a sovereign equal.
Economically, US recognition could also open or close crucial channels.
The United States has outsized influence over global financial plumbing: the SWIFT payments network, IMF voting shares and the dollar's role in clearing transactions.
While the US could still wield sanctions against a Palestinian state, recognition would reverse the current presumption that Washington's power is being used only to shield Israel.
Symbolically, it would be the biggest diplomatic rupture in US–Israeli relations since Eisenhower forced Israel to withdraw from the Sinai in 1957.
Recognition does not fix the thorniest question: where Palestine begins and Israel ends.
The diplomatic baseline is the 1967 'Green Line', before Israel captured the West Bank, Gaza, and East Jerusalem.
Most international plans envisage land swaps to accommodate large Israeli settlement blocs near the line, in exchange for equivalent territory elsewhere.
But that still leaves the fact that some 700,000 Israeli settlers now live beyond the Green Line - about 500,000 in the West Bank and 220,000 in East Jerusalem.
On paper, if Palestine became a state tomorrow without a land deal, those settlers would be foreign nationals under Palestinian law, subject to its taxes and regulations.
In practice, Israel would never permit that and no realistic peace plan leaves large numbers of Israelis under Palestinian jurisdiction.
Instead, blocs would be annexed to Israel, remote settlements dismantled, and perhaps a handful of Israelis allowed to remain as permanent residents under Israeli, not Palestinian, law.
If it is so straightforward, why has a Democratic president not already pulled the trigger?
First, domestic politics.
American Jews vote overwhelmingly Democratic - about 70 per cent in the 2020 election - and while their views on Israel vary widely, a presidential recognition of Palestine would be seen by many as a hostile act toward a close ally.
That does not mean it would not be popular among younger progressives, Arab-American voters, or much of the international community, but it would open a new rift inside the Democratic coalition.
Second, the geopolitical cost.
Once you recognise Palestine, you own the consequences.
If Hamas launches rockets the next week, the political right will present it as a direct rebuke to US policy.
Any new outbreak of violence would become, in part, the White House's problem.
Third, leverage.
Washington's traditional stance is that recognition should be the result of a negotiated peace, not the opening move.
Recognising early takes away a bargaining chip, though that logic grows weaker as settlement expansion steadily erodes the viability of a two-state solution.
While Washington hesitates, Israeli politics has been drifting ever further toward religious nationalism and territorial maximalism.
The current governing coalition, the most right-wing in Israel's history, openly talks about annexing large swathes of the West Bank and tightening Jewish religious influence over public life.
In demographic terms, the settler population grows faster than Israel's overall average, and religious-nationalist parties are rising accordingly.
That means every year that passes makes a land-for-peace deal harder to sell in Israeli politics.
For a US president, waiting for a friendlier government in Jerusalem is starting to look like waiting for Godot.
For a Democratic president, recognising Palestine would be an act of political risk at home, but one with potentially historic consequences abroad.
It would not end the conflict, but it would remove the single most effective diplomatic shield Israel has enjoyed for half a century.
It would allow the Security Council to pass resolutions with teeth.
It would open the door to a truly multilateral push for a negotiated border, backed not just by the Arab world and Europe, but by all five permanent members of the Security Council, including the US.
The momentum is building.
France, Canada, the UK and Australia have now crossed the recognition threshold.
With Russia and China already there, the US is becoming the last major power blocking Palestine's full entry into the international system.
All it would take to change that is the signature, and the political will, of one person.
Nicholas Sheppard is an accomplished journalist whose work has been featured in The Spectator, The NZ Herald and Politico. He is also a published literary author and public relations consultant