The Protection of Civilians (PoC) in peacekeeping and the Responsibility to Protect (R2P) populations from atrocity crimes are two norms that emerged at the turn of the new millennium with the aim of protecting vulnerable peoples from mass violence and/or systematic and widespread violations of human rights. To date, most scholars have analysed the discourses over the status, strength and robustness of both norms separately. And yet, the distinction between the two has at times been exceptionally fine. In this article, we analyse the constitutive relationship between PoC and R2P, and the impact of discursive and behavioural contestation on their joint evolution within the UN system and state practice over three phases (1999–2005; 2006–10; 2011–18). In so doing, we contribute to the International Relations literature on norms by illuminating ideational interplay in the dynamics of norm evolution and contestation. More specifically, we illustrate how actors may seek to strengthen support for one norm, or dimension of a norm, by contrasting it or linking it with another. Our analysis also reveals that while the two norms of R2P and PoC were initially debated and implemented through different institutional paths and policy frameworks, discursive and behavioural contestation has in more recent years brought them closer together in one important respect. The meaning ascribed to both norms—by representatives of states and institutions such as the United Nations—has become more state-centric, with an emphasis on building and strengthening the capacity of national authorities to protect populations. This meaning contrasts with the more cosmopolitan origins of R2P and PoC, and arguably limits possibilities for the external enforcement of both norms through any form of international authority that stands above or outside sovereign states. This article forms part of the special section of the May 2019 issue of International Affairs on ‘The dynamics of dissent’, guest-edited by Anette Stimmer and Lea Wisken.

A profusion of international norms influences state behaviour. Ambiguities and tensions in the normative framework can give rise to contestation. While research on norm contestation has focused on open debates about norms, we identify a second type of norm contestation where norms are contested through particular forms of implementation. We therefore distinguish between contestation through words and actions, that is, discursive and behavioural contestation. Discursive contestation involves debates about the meaning and/or (relative) importance of norms. Behavioural contestation, by contrast, eschews such debates. Instead, different norm understandings become apparent in the different ways in which actors shape the implementation of norms. Despite being a potentially powerful mechanism of challenging and changing norms, behavioural contestation has fallen outside the purview of the literature in part because it frequently remains below the radar. The two forms of contestation overlap when the practices of behavioural contestation are brought to the attention of and discussed by the international community. Thus, discursive and behavioural contestation are not mutually exclusive but can happen at the same time, sequentially or independently of each other. This introduction to a special section of the May 2019 issue of International Affairs, on ‘The dynamics of dissent’, develops the concept of behavioural contestation and outlines triggers and effects of this hitherto under-researched expression of dissent.

Summary

• Although sieges may conjure up images of medieval warfare, they are still used by armed forces today, in international and non-international armed conflicts.
• International law does not define sieges, but their essence is the isolation of enemy forces from reinforcements and supplies. Sieges typically combine two elements: ‘encirclement’ of an area for the purpose of isolating it, and bombardment.
• Questions of the compatibility of sieges with modern rules of international humanitarian law (IHL) arise when besieged areas contain civilians as well as enemy forces.
• Sieges are not prohibited as such by either IHL or other areas of public international law.
• Three sets of rules of IHL are relevant to sieges. The first comprises the rules regulating the conduct of hostilities. The second is the prohibition of starvation of civilians as a method of warfare, along with the rules regulating humanitarian relief operations. The third comprises the rules on evacuation of civilians.
• The application of IHL to sieges is unsettled in some respects. This briefing does not purport to resolve all the difficulties or address all the issues in detail.
• While it may go too far to say that it is now impossible to conduct a siege that complies with IHL, the significant vulnerability of civilians caught up in sieges puts particular emphasis on the need for both besieging and besieged forces to comply scrupulously with the legal provisions for the protection of civilians and to conclude agreements for their evacuation.

Does the rule of law matter to maritime security? One way into the question is to examine whether states show a discursive commitment that maritime security practices must comply with international law. International law thus provides tools for argument for or against the validity of certain practices. The proposition is thus not only that international law matters to maritime security, but legal argument does too. In this article, these claims will be explored in relation to the South China Sea dispute. The dispute involves Chinese claims to enjoy special rights within the ‘nine-dash line’ on official maps which appears to lay claim to much of the South China Sea. Within this area sovereignty remains disputed over numerous islands and other maritime features. Many of the claimant states have engaged in island-building activities, although none on the scale of China. Ideas matter in such contests, affecting perceptions of reality and of what is possible. International law provides one such set of ideas. Law may be a useful tool in consolidating gains or defeating a rival's claims. For China, law is a key domain in which it is seeking to consolidate control over the South China Sea. The article places the relevant Chinese legal arguments in the context of China's historic engagement with the law of the sea. It argues that the flaw in China's approach has been to underestimate the extent to which it impinges on other states' national interests in the maritime domain, interests they conceptualize in legal terms.

The UK Supreme Court’s ruling last Wednesday has, at least temporarily, scuppered the prime minister’s plans to limit parliamentary debate before the looming Brexit deadline. Some of the prime minister’s allies have attacked the ruling as a ‘constitutional coup’. But a close reading reveals that the court has stayed within its remit to interpret, rather than make, the law.

In a carefully reasoned judgment, the court emphasized that the case was not about Brexit. But the judges certainly did not shy away from the extraordinary nature of the matters before it, noting that such factual situations have ‘never arisen before and are unlikely ever to arise again… But our law is used to rising to such challenges and supplies us with the legal tools to enable us to reason to a solution.’

The key question before the court was whether the prime minister’s decision to seek prorogation was ‘justiciable’ – i.e. amenable to being reviewed by a court. The English and Scottish courts earlier on in these proceedings had come, dramatically, to opposing views on this.

The Supreme Court was not dissuaded by the inherently political considerations involved in the prime minister’s decision, stating that while ‘courts cannot decide political questions, the fact that a legal dispute concerns the conduct of politicians, or arises from a matter of political controversy, has never been sufficient reason for the courts to refuse to consider it’.

The court went on to emphasize that the Crown’s remaining prerogative powers (exercised on the advice of the government or directly by ministers) have long been subject to judicial scrutiny; such oversight is essential to guarding the separation of powers underpinning the UK’s constitution.

So far, so conventional. The full bench of the Supreme Court was required to grapple, though, with a prerogative power that had never been tested before in the courts. And so they delved back to the 1611 Case of Proclamations: ‘the King hath no prerogative, but that which the law of the land allow him’. In the court’s view, the legal issue to be resolved was the scope of the power to prorogue (the existence of this particular prerogative not being in dispute).

With no case law available to provide direct guidance on this question, the court, instead, relied on two fundamental principles of the UK’s constitution – parliamentary sovereignty and parliamentary accountability. What would be the logical consequence of an unlimited power to prorogue? The ability to shut parliament permanently.

The conclusion: this particular prerogative power had limits. The court held that:

‘A decision to prorogue Parliament (or to advise the monarch to prorogue Parliament) will be unlawful if the prorogation has the effect of frustrating or preventing, without reasonable justification, the ability of Parliament to carry out its constitutional functions as a legislature and as the body responsible for the supervision of the executive. In such a situation, the court will intervene if the effect is sufficiently serious to justify such an exceptional course.’

Having come to this conclusion, the court was left to examine what justification had in fact been given, noting that the prime minister’s motives were irrelevant. It noted that no clear reason had been given – the relevant documents were all concerned with preparing for the Queen’s speech.

Noting evidence on normal practice for such preparations, including from a former prime minister, the court found it ‘impossible… to conclude…that there was any reason – let alone a good reason – to advise Her Majesty to prorogue Parliament for five weeks’.

The court’s decision was neither inevitable nor a radical departure from legal tradition. It represents the gradual evolution of the long-established legal principle that the crown’s powers are set by the law and supervised by the courts.

Courts have traditionally been reticent to rule on prerogative powers which are ‘high politics’ by nature – classic examples include declaring war and negotiating treaties. In recent years, though, the judiciary has shown a growing confidence to grapple with the contours of those prerogative powers that remain. Deference is still shown when looking at how those powers have been used as opposed to the limits of the prerogative in question.

The Supreme Court ruling won’t reassure those who worry about the emergence of an activist court willing to wade (improperly) into the political arena. Nor will it necessarily bring comfort to those anxious about an unwritten constitution in an era where political conventions are fast unravelling.

But divisive court rulings are nothing new, nor are ministerial outbursts about inconvenient judgments. In the current environment, politicians should take particular care not to send mixed messages which undermine the independence of the UK’s judiciary. Public trust in British institutions is dangerously low and the UK can ill-afford further damage to its reputation as a country steeped in democracy and the rule of law.

International law applies to cyber operations – but views differ on exactly how. Does state-sponsored interference in another state's affairs using cyber means – for example,  disinformation campaigns in elections, disabling government websites, or disrupting transport systems – breach international law? If so, on what basis and how are the principles of sovereignty and non-intervention relevant? States are increasingly attributing cyber operations to other states and engaging in the debate on how international law applies, including circumstances that would justify countermeasures.

As states meet to debate these issues at the UN, the panel will explore how international law regulates cyberoperations by states, consider the prospects of progress at the UN, and assess the value of other initiatives.

This event coincides with the launch of a Chatham House research paper which analyses how the principles of sovereignty and intervention apply in the context of cyberoperations, and considers a way forward for agreeing a common understanding of cyber norms.

This event will bring together a broad group of actors, including policymakers, the private sector, legal experts and civil society, and will be followed by a drinks reception.

 

About the Conference

At a time of geopolitical uncertainty and with multilateralism under pressure, this conference brought together diverse actors to explore the evolving role of international law on critical security and economic issues in the Asia-Pacific. From trade agreements to deep-sea mining, cyberwarfare to territorial disputes, the breadth of the discussion illustrated the growing reach of international law in the region.

Hosted by the International Law Programme and the Asia-Pacific Programme at Chatham House on 27 March 2019, the conference focused on three themes: trade and investment, maritime security and governance, and emerging security challenges. What trends are emerging in terms of engagement with international law in the region, and how can international standards play a greater role in encouraging collaboration and reducing tensions? And, with the eastward shift in geopolitical power, how will Asia-Pacific states shape the future of international law?

Summary

• Online political campaigning techniques are distorting our democratic political processes. These techniques include the creation of disinformation and divisive content; exploiting digital platforms’ algorithms, and using bots, cyborgs and fake accounts to distribute this content; maximizing influence through harnessing emotional responses such as anger and disgust; and micro-targeting on the basis of collated personal data and sophisticated psychological profiling techniques. Some state authorities distort political debate by restricting, filtering, shutting down or censoring online networks.
• Such techniques have outpaced regulatory initiatives and, save in egregious cases such as shutdown of networks, there is no international consensus on how they should be tackled. Digital platforms, driven by their commercial impetus to encourage users to spend as long as possible on them and to attract advertisers, may provide an environment conducive to manipulative techniques.
• International human rights law, with its careful calibrations designed to protect individuals from abuse of power by authority, provides a normative framework that should underpin responses to online disinformation and distortion of political debate. Contrary to popular view, it does not entail that there should be no control of the online environment; rather, controls should balance the interests at stake appropriately.
• The rights to freedom of thought and opinion are critical to delimiting the appropriate boundary between legitimate influence and illegitimate manipulation. When digital platforms exploit decision-making biases in prioritizing bad news and divisive, emotion-arousing information, they may be breaching these rights. States and digital platforms should consider structural changes to digital platforms to ensure that methods of online political discourse respect personal agency and prevent the use of sophisticated manipulative techniques.
• The right to privacy includes a right to choose not to divulge your personal information, and a right to opt out of trading in and profiling on the basis of your personal data. Current practices in collecting, trading and using extensive personal data to ‘micro-target’ voters without their knowledge are not consistent with this right. Significant changes are needed.
• Data protection laws should be implemented robustly, and should not legitimate extensive harvesting of personal data on the basis of either notional ‘consent’ or the data handler’s commercial interests. The right to privacy should be embedded in technological design (such as by allowing the user to access all information held on them at the click of a button); and political parties should be transparent in their collection and use of personal data, and in their targeting of messages. Arguably, the value of personal data should be shared with the individuals from whom it derives.
• The rules on the boundaries of permissible content online should be set by states, and should be consistent with the right to freedom of expression. Digital platforms have had to rapidly develop policies on retention or removal of content, but those policies do not necessarily reflect the right to freedom of expression, and platforms are currently not well placed to take account of the public interest. Platforms should be far more transparent in their content regulation policies and decision-making, and should develop frameworks enabling efficient, fair, consistent internal complaints and content monitoring processes. Expertise on international human rights law should be integral to their systems.
• The right to participate in public affairs and to vote includes the right to engage in public debate. States and digital platforms should ensure an environment in which all can participate in debate online and are not discouraged from standing for election, from participating or from voting by online threats or abuse.

Summary

• The vast majority of state-to-state cyberattacks consist of persistent, low-level intrusions that take place below the threshold of use of force. International law, including the principle of non-intervention in another state’s internal affairs and the principle of sovereignty, applies to these cyber operations.
• It is not clear whether any unauthorized cyber intrusion would violate the target state’s sovereignty, or whether there is a threshold in operation. While some would like to set limits by reference to effects of the cyber activity, at this time such limits are not reflected in customary international law. The assessment of whether sovereignty has been violated therefore has to be made on a case by case basis, if no other more specific rules of international law apply.
• In due course, further state practice and opinio iuris may give rise to an emerging cyber-specific understanding of sovereignty, just as specific rules deriving from the sovereignty principle have crystallized in other areas of international law.
• Before a principle of due diligence can be invoked in the cyber context, further work is needed by states to agree upon rules as to what might be expected of a state in this context.
• The principle of non-intervention applies to a state’s cyber operations as it does to other state activities. It consists of coercive behaviour by one state that deprives the target state of its free will in relation to the exercise of its sovereign functions in order to compel an outcome in, or conduct with respect to, a matter reserved to the target state.
• In practice, activities that contravene the non-intervention principle and activities that violates sovereignty will often overlap.
• In order to reach agreement on how international law applies to states’ cyber operations below the level of use of force, states should put their views on record, where possible giving examples of when they consider that an obligation may be breached, as states such as the UK, Australia, France and the Netherlands have done.
• Further discussion between states should focus on how the rules apply to practical examples of state-sponsored cyber operations. There is likely to be more commonality about specific applications of the law than there is about abstract principles.
• The prospects of a general treaty in this area are still far off. In due course, there may be benefit in considering limited rules, for example on due diligence and a prohibition on attacking critical infrastructure, before tackling broad principles.

In discussions to date about how international law applies in cyberspace, commentators have tended to focus their attention on how the rules on the use of force, or the law of armed conflict, apply to cyber activities conducted by states that give rise to physical damage, injury or death.

But in practice, the vast majority of state cyberattacks fall below this threshold. Far more common are persistent, low-level attacks that may leave no physical trace but that are capable of doing significant damage to a state’s ability to control its systems, often at serious economic cost.

Such cyber incursions might include network disruptions in the operation of another government’s websites; tampering with electoral infrastructure to change or undermine the result; or using cyber means to destabilize another state’s financial sector.

For these kinds of cyber operation, the principle of sovereignty, and the principle of non-intervention in another state’s internal affairs, are the starting point.

A UN Group of Government Experts (GGE) agreed in 2013 and 2015 that the principles in the UN Charter, including sovereignty and the prohibition on intervention in another state’s affairs, apply to states’ activities in cyberspace. The 2015 GGE also recommended eleven (non-binding) norms of responsible state behaviour in cyberspace.

However, states have not yet reached agreement on how to apply these principles. Until recently, there has also been very little knowledge of what states actually do in cyberspace, as they usually conduct cyber operations covertly and have been reluctant to put their views on record.

A new Chatham House research paper analyses the application of the principles of sovereignty and non-intervention to state cyberattacks that fall below the principle of use of force. As well as analysing the application of the law in this area, the paper also makes recommendations to governments on how they might best make progress in reaching agreement in this area.

Existing rules or new rules?

As the research paper makes clear, there is currently some debate, principally between countries in the West, about the extent to which sovereignty is a legally binding rule in the context of cyberspace and, if so, how it and the principle of non-intervention might apply in practice.

In the last few years, certain states have put on record how they consider international law to apply to states’ activities in cyberspace, namely the UK, Australia, France and the Netherlands. While there may be some differences in their approaches, which are discussed in the paper, there also remains important common ground: namely, that existing international law already provides a solid framework for regulating states’ cyber activities, as it regulates every other domain of state-to-state activity.

There is also an emerging trend for states to work together when attributing cyberattacks to hostile states, enabling them to call out malign cyber activity when it violates international law. (See, for example, the joint statements made in relation to the NotPetya cyber attack and malicious cyber activity attributed to the Russian government).

However, other countries have questioned whether existing international law as it stands is capable of regulating states’ cyber interactions and have called for ‘new legal instruments’ in this area.

This includes a proposal by the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (led by Russia and China) for an International Code of Conduct on Information Security, a draft of which was submitted to the UN in 2011 and 2015, without success. The UN has also formed a new Open-Ended Working Group (OEWG) under a resolution proposed by Russia to consider how international law applies to states’ activities in cyberspace.

The resolution establishing the OEWG, which began work earlier this year, includes the possibility of the group ‘introducing changes to the rules, norms and principles of responsible behaviour of States’ agreed in the 2013 and 2015 GGE reports. In the OEWG discussions at the UN in September, several countries claimed that a new legal instrument was needed to fill the ‘legal vacuum’ (Cuba) or ‘the gap of ungoverned areas’ (Indonesia).

It would be concerning if the hard-won consensus on the application of international law to cyberspace that has been reached at past GGEs started to unravel. In contrast to 2013 and 2015, the 2017 meeting failed to reach an agreement.

On 9 December, a renewed GGE will meet in New York, but the existence of the OEWG exploring the same issues in a separate process reflects the fact that cyber norms have become an area of geopolitical rivalry.

Aside from the application of international law, states are also adopting divergent approaches to the domestic regulation of cyberspace within their own territory. The emerging trend towards a ‘splinternet’ – i.e. between states that believe the internet should be global and open on the hand, and those that favour a ‘sovereignty and control’ model on the other  – is also likely to make discussions at the GGE more challenging.

Distinct from the international law concept of sovereignty is the notion of ‘cybersovereignty’, a term coined by China to describe the wide-ranging powers it assumes under domestic law to regulate its citizens’ access to the internet and personal data within its territory. This approach is catching on (as reflected in Russia’s recently enacted ‘Sovereign Internet Law’), with other authoritarian states likely to follow suit.

The importance of non-state actors

In parallel with regional and UN discussions on how international law applies, a number of initiatives by non-state actors have also sought to establish voluntary principles about responsible state behaviour in cyberspace.

The Global Commission on the Stability of Cyberspace, a multi-stakeholder body that has proposed principles, norms and recommendations to guide responsible behaviour by all parties in cyberspace, recently published its final report. The Cybersecurity Tech Accord  aims to promote collaboration between tech companies on stability and resilience in cyberspace. President Macron’s ‘Paris Call for Trust and Security in Cyberspace’ has to date received the backing of 67 states, 139 international and civil society organizations, and 358 private-sector organizations.

It remains to be seen in the long term whether the parallel processes at the UN will work constructively together or be competitive. But notwithstanding the challenging geopolitical backdrop, the UN GGE meeting next week at the least offers states the opportunity to consolidate and build on the results of past meetings; to increase knowledge and discussion about how international law might apply; and to encourage more states to put their own views of these issues on the record.

The decision by the International Court of Justice (ICJ) that Myanmar should take all measures available to prevent acts of genocide against the persecuted Rohingya minority is truly ground-breaking. The case shows how small states can play an important role in upholding international law and holding other states accountable. 

The Gambia, acting with the support of the Organization of Islamic Cooperation, skilfully used Article IX of the Genocide Convention, which allows for a state party to the convention to pursue cases against another state party where it is felt there has been a dispute regarding the ‘interpretation, application or fulfilment’ of the convention.

Seventeen states have entered reservations against this specific provision but Myanmar is not one of them. It was on this basis that The Gambia was able to take its case to the ICJ. This exciting development expands the possibilities of international accountability at the state-to-state level.

But it should be noted that the current ruling is focused on provisional measures – the central case could still take years to conclude. There is still a long road ahead on the court determining whether the Myanmar authorities committed acts of genocide.

And, while the decision was unanimous and binding, the ICJ cannot enforce its ruling. Myanmar has shown itself resistant to international criticism and there is a real risk they will fail to comply.

One way forward, should Myanmar not respect the ruling, is that the UN Security Council could agree a resolution to compel action. However, it seems unlikely that China would ever vote for such a resolution, given its strong stance on non-intervention and its economic interests in the country. 

The International Criminal Court cannot act when crimes are being genuinely prosecuted in a state. The meeting will discuss whether the ICC complementarity rules apply when a state puts restrictions on the prosecution of war crimes committed in particular circumstances or within a particular time period. In this context, the discussion will also cover the extent to which such restrictions are precluded by international obligations such as those in the Geneva Conventions with regard to the investigation and prosecution of war crimes.

Summary

• The 70th anniversary of the adoption of the 1949 Geneva Conventions was commemorated in 2019. But violations of the Conventions and of the 1977 Additional Protocols are widespread.
• Contemporary conflicts have been marked by violations of some of the foundational rules of international humanitarian law (IHL) relating to the protection of the wounded and sick and of providers of medical assistance.
• A further area of IHL that has come under strain and scrutiny are the rules regulating humanitarian relief operations and their application to sieges and blockades.
• War has a huge impact on children, and the treatment of children in armed conflict is another area of the law that requires further attention.
• In the current political climate, it is unlikely that new treaties will be negotiated to address emerging issues or uncertainties in the law.
• Other measures must be explored, including the adoption of domestic measures to implement existing law; support for processes that interpret the law; and initiatives to promote compliance with the law by organized armed groups.
• One overarching challenge is the interplay between IHL and counterterrorism measures. It can undermine the protections set out in IHL, and hinder principled humanitarian action and activities to promote compliance with the law by organized armed groups.

Russia’s ongoing occupation of Ukraine’s Crimean peninsula and support of separatist hostilities in the eastern provinces of Donbas have resulted in 1.5 million internally displaced persons, 3,000 civilians killed, and a growing list of alleged violations of international law and socio-economic hardship.

But Ukraine is struggling in its efforts to hold Russia accountable – either as a state or through individual criminal responsibility - as it cannot unilaterally ask any international court to give an overall judgment on the conflict.

So it focuses on narrower issues, referring them to authorised adjudication and arbitration platforms such as the International Court of Justice (ICJ), European Court of Human Rights, UNCLOS arbitration, and the International Criminal Court (ICC). These options are limited, but still worth taking - and their relevance is proving to be far wider than the Russia-Ukraine conflict.

Policy of cultural eradication

In 2017, Ukraine initiated proceedings against Russia at the ICJ on the basis of two international treaties: the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination (CERD), with regard to Crimea; and the International Convention for the Suppression of the Financing of Terrorism (ICSFT), with regard to Donbas.

Under the CERD, Ukraine alleges Russia has carried out a policy of cultural eradication of ethnic Ukrainians and Crimean Tatars in Crimea, including enforced disappearances, no education in the Ukrainian and Crimean Tatar languages, and the ban of the Mejlis, the main representative body of the Crimean Tatars.

Under the ICSFT, Ukraine alleges Russia has supported terrorism by providing funds, weapons and training to illegal armed groups in eastern Ukraine. In particular Ukraine alleges Russian state responsibility - through its proxies - for downing the infamous MH17 flight.

Both these treaties are binding upon Ukraine and Russia and entitle an individual state party to refer a dispute concerning them to the ICJ, but certain procedural pre-conditions must first be exhausted. These include a failed attempt to settle a dispute either through negotiations or the CERD Committee (for the CERD) or unsuccessful negotiations and arbitration (for the ICSFT).

Russia challenged Ukraine’s compliance with the pre-conditions, but the ICJ disagreed with Russia’s submission that Ukraine had to resort both to negotiations and to the CERD Committee. For the first time, the court clarified these procedures under the CERD were two means to reach the same aim, and therefore alternative and not cumulative.

Requiring states to avail of both procedures before going to the ICJ would undermine the very purpose of the CERD to eliminate racial discrimination promptly, and ensure the availability of effective domestic protection and remedies.

The relevance of this clarification transcends the Ukraine-Russia dispute. With the rise of discriminatory practices, from populist hate-filled rhetoric endangering vulnerable communities to large-scale persecution such as that of the Rohingyas, the UN’s principal judicial body is sending a clear larger message to the world: such practices are unacceptable and must be dealt with expeditiously and efficiently. If states fail to do so, there are now fewer procedural impediments to do it internationally.

The ICJ also confirmed Ukraine had complied with both procedural preconditions under the ICSFT and that it would give judgement on the alleged failure of Russia to take measures to prevent the financing of terrorism. The outcome of this will be of great importance to the international community, given the general lack of international jurisprudence on issues of terrorism.

The court’s interpretation of knowledge and intent in terrorism financing, as well as clarification of the term ‘funds’, is particularly relevant both for the Ukraine-Russia case and for international law.

As the final judgement may take several years, the ICJ granted some provisional measures requested by Ukraine in April 2017. The court obliged Russia to ensure the availability of education in Ukrainian and enable the functioning of the Crimean Tatar representative institutions, including the Mejlis.

When Russia contested Ukraine’s references to the alleged Stalin-ordered deportation of the Crimean Tatars and the rule of law in the Soviet Union being hypocritical, by arguing that history did not matter, the court disagreed.

In fact, Judge James Crawford emphasised the relevance of the ‘historical persecution’ of Crimean Tatars and the role of Mejlis in advancing and protecting their rights in Crimea ‘at the time of disruption and change’.

These conclusions are important reminders that the historical inheritance of injustices inflicted on vulnerable groups should be taken into account when nations address their imperial legacies.

The court’s provisional measures and Judge Crawford’s position are particularly relevant in light of Russia’s policy of the total - territorial, historical, cultural – ‘russification’ of Crimea, as they highlight the role of the historical background for assessing the alleged discriminatory and prosecutorial policy of Russia’s occupying authorities against the Crimean Tatars.

The ICJ’s judgement on the merits of this as well as other human rights, and terrorism issues of Crimea and Donbas will be an important consideration for the international community in its view of the Russia-Ukraine armed conflict and the sanctions policy against Russia.

The development of this case also has a mutually catalysing impact on Ukraine’s efforts to establish those individually criminally responsible for atrocities in Crimea and Donbas, through domestic proceedings and through the International Criminal Court.

Ukraine’s attempts to seek individual criminal responsibility for gross abuses in Donbas and Crimea at the International Criminal Court (ICC) are assessed in part two of this series, coming soon.

In April 2020, UN Secretary General Antonio Guterres called for a global ceasefire in order for communities and states to focus efforts on responding to the coronavirus outbreak. The consequences of armed conflict – including displacement, detention, lack of access to health services and disrupted social infrastructures – mean that those in conflict-ridden areas are amongst the most vulnerable to the virus. Observing international humanitarian law (IHL) could be one way of safeguarding against, at least, the provision of vital medical supplies and personnel for vulnerable groups. Against the backdrop of a growing health and economic emergency that is otherwise dominating government agendas, how do we emphasise the importance of humanitarian action and guarantee - or improve - compliance?

The panellists will discuss the remit and limitations of international humanitarian law and how the pandemic might complicate compliance. What is the framework for humanitarian action under international humanitarian law? What are the challenges to delivering relief? And how has COVID-19 impacted humanitarian action in conflict-ridden areas?

This event is for Chatham House members only. Not a member? Find out more.