President of the World: The wonderful, sad, and ultimately outrageous Kofi Annan.

If you like the U.N., you love Kofi Annan. The current secretary general represents the best of U.N. Man. He is dignified, uncorrupt, and earnest. He brings a certain calm to what can be a noxious circus. But, as we have seen in recent weeks, even the best of U.N. Man is a letdown -- because the rot lies in the organization itself.

When the Iraq war commenced, Annan remained at center stage -- or at least near it. He had done everything he could to prevent the war. He told the press, "Perhaps if we had persevered a little longer . . ." Yes, with the U.N., it was always "a little longer" -- over a period of years. Annan was pleased, however, by the prominence of the U.N. in the run-up to the war: "Over the past weeks, the peoples of the world have shown what great importance they attach to the legitimacy conveyed by the authority of the United Nations. They have made clear that, in confronting uncertainty and danger, they want to see power harnessed to legitimacy." And without the U.N. -- no legitimacy. It is a theme of Annan's speech, and career. Probably the main one.

Annan was also pleased with what he called the "popular movement" against the war: "I have never seen a situation where, before a shot is fired, you have millions taking to the streets." He seemed to show no awareness that those under tyranny did not have the right to protest at all (except as the relevant regime directed, or permitted). His "thoughts," he said, were "with the Iraqi people, who face yet another ordeal." By "ordeal," Annan meant war, and wars, and not the Iraqis' daily life under their dictator: rape, torture, children's prisons, and so on.

As the war progressed, Annan spoke as he always speaks: in perfect U.N.-ese, as a perfect neutral, looking out for the "integrity" of the U.N., mindful of the needs of the "Member States." He spoke of "the belligerents," and "both sides": the democratic Allies and Iraq (meaning Saddam Hussein). "Both sides," he said, were "responsible for the welfare and safety of the people." "Both sides" had a duty to treat prisoners of war "humanely" and "in accordance with international law" -- as if the Allies were not in conformity, and Saddam's forces were not torturing and executing prisoners.

He asked for the prompt resumption of the "oil for food" program, ignoring the fact -- confirmed by Allied soldiers -- that Saddam was hoarding any food, for the benefit of his Republican Guards and other regime favorites. Annan fretted over a "humanitarian disaster" in Basra, where water and electricity had been cut off. It was rather late in the day for the U.N. to worry about the well-being of ordinary Iraqis. Indeed, as one man in Safwan told an "embedded" reporter, "You're late. What took you so long?" His brother and son had been executed under the regime.

After the media reported that an Allied bomb had (mistakenly) hit a Baghdad market, Annan took to the microphones to express his "increasing concern" about "humanitarian casualties in this conflict." He seemed to be scolding the United States and its allies, causing apoplexy among certain supporters of the war. He issued no protestations over Iraqi bombs, which were lobbed quite deliberately at civilians. (In this, admittedly, Annan seemed less neutral.)

In the second week of the campaign, the secretary general, feeling his oats, wished for a ceasefire, wanting the Allies to stop short of reaching Saddam. "I have always said war is a human catastrophe," he explained, "and, in fact, in war, all are losers." Even the liberated, presumably. Nor had he ever "justified or supported this war." Speaking for his organization, he said, "Obviously, there is lots of unhappiness in this building." He gave the impression -- as he often does, in his sanctimony -- that only he cared about the fate of Iraqis. But Randy Scheunemann, president of the Committee for the Liberation of Iraq, in Washington, provided a sharp and truthful rebuke: "The armed forces . . . have done more to alleviate the suffering of the Iraqi people in 19 days than the U.N. has done in 19 years."

Annan called the war his "most difficult" moment -- because the prevention of war had been his highest goal, no matter what the rhetoric about "disarming" Saddam Hussein. To him, all the governments, regimes, and thugocracies in the world are "Member States," to be placated and harmonized. Sure, he now speaks of Pol Pot as a "criminal," with the old monster out of power for 25 years -- and dead, for that matter. But if Annan had been secretary general in the time of Pol Pot? Cambodia would have been just another esteemed "Member State," hardly different in U.N. eyes from New Zealand. Perhaps Saddam Hussein, in time, will become another one of Annan's "criminals."

It is hard for Americans to understand the extremely high regard in which Europeans hold the U.N. Others have a similar regard. Americans tend to view the U.N. as a curiosity, or as a nice idea, or as a nuisance to be borne. But to much of the planet, the U.N. is paramount, and Kofi Annan is president of the world -- a "secular pope," as he has been called. Other nations, feeling especially weak in the era of one superpower, seek their influence in the collectivity at Turtle Bay. It is the secretary general's job to embody that collectivity. Back in 1996, Annan remarked, "I have 185 masters." That number is higher now. And in the perverse equality of the United Nations, Iraq can head the disarmament council, whenever its spot in the alphabet comes up. Libya is now in the chair of the U.N. human-rights commission -- Quaddafi's Libya. Syria and Cuba are among the other Schweitzerian states that serve on it. The only nation that has something like pariah status in the U.N. is the only democracy in the Middle East -- you know who. It is the only nation barred from serving on the Security Council.

Annan had spent much of his tenure trying to save Saddam Hussein -- or, as he and his defenders would put it, to stave off armed conflict. In 1998, the dictator was irked at UNSCOM, the inspections body. So Annan flew over in a mission of "pure appeasement," as Scheunemann puts it. What's more, he flew over on Jacques Chirac's presidential jet. As Philip Gourevitch noted in an article for The New Yorker, Chirac asked the secretary general "to extend his personal greetings to Saddam." Once in Baghdad, Annan smoked Cuban cigars with the dictator -- six of them (Lanceros de Cohibas) -- and struck a deal. This is a deal that, in short, cut UNSCOM's legs off. Annan and Saddam praised each other's "courage." Annan further commended the dictator as a "builder." Later, he described him as "a man I can do business with." (In this, Annan was probably thinking of Margaret Thatcher, on Gorbachev.)

The inspectors, of course -- more serious in those pre-Blixian days -- understood themselves to have been betrayed. Their chief, Richard Butler, claimed that Annan had tried to "destroy" UNSCOM because it was "too independent." The secretary general was responding to Saddam's violations by "papering them over with diplomacy." Annan has said -- with simple reason -- "I know that some people have accused me of using diplomacy. That's my job. That's what I'm paid for." So this "diplomacy" went on, as it would have indefinitely.

Annan, the seventh secretary general, is a total creature of the U.N. He is the first to rise entirely within U.N. ranks. He has been there almost continuously since 1962. The U.N. is his guiding star, and his reverence for it could be touching, if it did not have such dismaying effects. His language is that of "international law," that stellar shibboleth. Asked about suicide bombers, he said that "most people" would hold their attacks to be "illegal"! As a revitalizer of the U.N., Annan is seen as a check on America, the "hyper-power" that is in urgent need of checking. For his trouble, he has received a "Profile in Courage" award from the Kennedy family, and, of course, the big one from the Nobel committee. The Peace Prize came only a month after September 11. The committee was "sending a message," as they say. One year later, they would send another one -- in the form of a prize to Jimmy Carter (who is Oslo's -- and the U.N.'s -- kind of American).

Conservatives and some others warn that there will be a reckoning with the United Nations. Annan, however, is confident. The U.N. must "recover its rightful role," he says -- and of course have preeminence in postwar Iraq. He believes that "the United Nations family" -- ah, yes, the family! The U.S., Syria, Cuba . . . -- will emerge "more relevant than ever." The cowboy war in Iraq will prove only a temporary usurpation of U.N. authority; the stars will return to their courses.

Will the Bush administration oblige Annan? A national-security official reflects, "We are of two minds on the U.N. Our gut says, 'Forget about them.' Our brain probably says, 'There may be a time when we need the U.N.: to do things that we either can't do or don't want to do.' We will probably pick and choose among U.N. bodies, supporting some and not supporting others." Ronald Reagan yanked the U.S. out of UNESCO, and, 18 years later, after significant reform, George W. Bush allowed readmission. The United Nations is chastenable, by a U.S. willing to do so.

But the U.N. will always retain its screwy amorality, whereby democratic presidents and totalitarian thugs have equal footing. This is not "the united nations," as Solzhenitsyn says, but "the united governments," for good or ill (often ill). Kofi Annan is their servant, and best face. He is less sinister than Kurt Waldheim, less nugatory than Javier Perez de Cuellar, less hapless than Boutros Boutros-Ghali. But from the point of view of "law and liberty," as Orwell put it -- real law, and real liberty -- the best of them still stinks.