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.

China’s adherence to the rules-based international system is selective, prioritizing certain rules in favour of others. States supportive of that ‘system’ – or, as some argue, systems[1] – should identify areas of mutual strategic interest so that they can draw China further into the global rules-based order and leverage China as a constructive player that potentially also contributes to improvements in such areas. This is particularly apposite at a time when the US is in retreat from multilateralism and Russia seems bent on disrupting the rules-based international order.

Supportive player

There are many reasons for actively engaging with China on mutual areas of interest. China is a committed multilateralist in many areas, recognizing that often international cooperation and frameworks hold the key to its domestic problems, for example in the fields of environmental sustainability and financial regulation.

China’s economic power is valuable in upholding international institutions: China is the UN’s third-largest donor (after the US and Japan) at a time when the UN is facing budgetary shortfalls. China is also the second-highest contributor to the UN peacekeeping budget, and the largest contributor of peacekeeping forces among the five permanent members of the UN Security Council.

China also has a valuable role to play in the settlement of international disputes over trade and investment. China is a big supporter of the World Trade Organization (WTO)’s dispute settlement mechanism, and one of its most active participants;[2] China is currently playing an active role in negotiations to save the WTO’s appellate mechanism from folding in the wake of the US’s refusal to nominate new judges.

The last 15 years have also seen a major shift in Chinese attitudes to investment arbitration, from a general suspicion and limitation of arbitration rights to broad acceptance and incorporation of such rights in China’s trade and investment treaties. China is actively engaged in multilateral negotiations through the UN Commission on International Trade Law (UNCITRAL) on reforms to investor–state dispute settlement.

China has shown leadership on global climate change diplomacy, urging nations to remain committed to the Paris Agreement in the wake of the US decision to pull out, and has been an important interlocutor with the UK and the EU on these issues. As a strong supporter of the Paris Agreement, but also as the world’s top emitter of carbon dioxide, China has a crucial role to play in pushing forward implementation of the Paris targets. Despite its high emissions, China remains one of the few major economies on track to meet its targets,[3] giving it greater leverage to peer review other parties’ efforts.

A recent report by the UK parliament’s Foreign Affairs Committee (FAC), on China and the rules-based international order, noted that where a body of trust and goodwill is developed with China, there is the possibility of discovering interests that coincide and the ability to work together on issues mutually regarded as of global importance. The report refers to a number of success stories from UK partnership with China in multilateral forums, including in counterproliferation and global health.[4]

Developing areas of global governance

As well as working with the current system, China is increasingly involved in the shaping of newer areas of international law – whether it be submissions to the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea (ITLOS) on procedural rules for the emerging deep-sea mining regime or pitching for a greater role in Arctic governance.[5]

This enthusiasm should be harnessed to promote the international rule of law, but at the same time there needs to be recognition of the strategic goals that drive China’s engagement. China’s interest in the Arctic, while including the desire to protect its ecology and environment, is also about access to marine resources, as well as about the Arctic’s strategic potential for China’s military.

China’s submissions to ITLOS on the rules of procedure for deep-sea mining are constructive, but also reflect an ambition to secure first-mover advantage when commercial mining eventually takes place. Like other major powers working in this policy area, China’s actions are guided by self-interest, but that doesn’t mean its goals can’t be pursued through multilateral rules.

China is also interested in creating new international structures and instruments that further its strategic aims. For example, with Russia (through the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation) it has proposed an International Code of Conduct for Information Security in the UN.[6]

China is also pondering an array of options for dispute-resolution mechanisms for its Belt and Road projects, including the possibility of an Asian version of the international Convention on the Settlement of Investment Disputes, which might sit under the auspices of the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank (AIIB).[7]

The creation of new instruments and institutions need not be a threat to the rules-based international order in itself. We have already seen a combination of the creation of parallel complementary regimes alongside the reform of existing institutions, for example in development financing through the AIIB or the New Development Bank (often referred to as the ‘BRICS Bank’); these two banks are relatively conventionally structured along the lines of Western-dominated institutions, albeit with greater Chinese control. Based on these examples, selective adaptation seems more likely than a hostile ‘Eastphalian’ takeover.[8]

Risks

There is, however, a real risk that in certain areas China may promote a rival authoritarian model of governance, assisted by an opportunistic convergence with Russia on issues such as human rights, development and internet governance. In areas where China’s core interests clash with those of the rules-based international order, China has shown itself to be unbending, as in its refusal to abide by the July 2016 decision of the Permanent Court of Arbitration in its dispute with the Philippines over the South China Sea.[9]

China is becoming more assertive at the UN, but while it seeks to project itself there as a responsible emerging global leader, it is promoting a vision that weakens international norms of human rights, transparency and accountability,[10] while also carrying out practices domestically that raise serious human rights concerns (not least the detention of hundreds of thousands of Uighurs in re-education camps in Xinjiang).[11]

China’s increased dominance geographically and geopolitically through its Belt and Road infrastructure projects carries with it a number of social and economic risks, including smaller states becoming trapped in unsustainable financial debts to China.

But at a recent Chatham House conference on Asia and international law, participants highlighted the limitations on how far China can shape an alternative governance model.[12] China currently lacks soft power, cultural power and language power, all of which are needed in order to embed an alternative model abroad. China also currently lacks capacity and confidence to build coalitions with other states in the UN.

Where it has tried to get buy-in from the international community for its new institutions, such as the China International Commercial Court (CICC) announced in July 2018, there has been scepticism about the standards to be applied.[13] Unless the court can demonstrate sufficient due process, international parties are likely to prefer other centres with a strong reputation for upholding the rule of law, such as those in London, Dubai and Singapore.

Where China does promote its own governance model at the expense of the rules-based international order, states are starting to push back, often in concert. EU member states so far have adopted a joined-up approach to the Belt and Road Initiative. With the exception of Italy, they have refused to sign a Memorandum of Understanding on participation unless China provides much greater transparency on its compliance with international standards.

The EU also recently presented a coordinated response to China on the situation in Xinjiang.[14] Similarly, members of the so-called ‘Five Eyes’ intelligence-sharing alliance (comprising Australia, Canada, New Zealand, the UK and the US) have acted together in relation to certain incidents of cyber interference attributed to China.[15]

There are also signs of pushback from smaller states closer to home in relation to challenges to national sovereignty, debt diplomacy and financial viability arising from Belt and Road projects. The Sri Lankan government recently reversed the award of a $300 million housing deal to China, instead opting for a joint venture with an Indian company.

China has been downscaling its investments as a way to counter some of the backlash it has received: the most recent Belt and Road summit put forward a more modest set of aspirations. This suggests that there is some scope for states to stand up to China and use leverage to secure better deals.

Many international institutions have been Western-dominated for years;[16] China, together with many emerging and middle powers, has felt for some time that the international architecture does not reflect the world we live in. Given that context, states that champion the rules-based international order should acknowledge China’s desire to update the international order to reflect greater multipolarity, globalization and technological change, while being clear-eyed about their engagement with China. This involves investing in a proper understanding of China and how it works.[17]

Where possible, cooperation with China should lead to outcomes that are backed up by international standards and transparency. The above-mentioned FAC report cites evidence that the UK’s support, and that of other developed countries, had a positive impact in shaping the governance and standards of the AIIB.[18] China has brought in international experts to advise on disputes before the CIIC, which may reassure would-be litigants.

China’s relationship with the rules-based international order needs to be assessed pragmatically and dynamically. China can be a valuable partner in many areas where its objectives are closely aligned with those of the international community – from trade to climate change to peacekeeping.

But where the country’s core interests are at odds with those of the wider international community, an increasingly confident China will strongly resist pressure, including on the South China Sea and human rights. In these areas, states supportive of international law can most powerfully push back through alliances and by ensuring that their own core values are not compromised in the interests of economic benefits.

Notes

[1] Chalmers, M. (2019), Which Rules? Why There is No Single ‘Rules-Based International System’, RUSI Occasional Paper, April 2019, London: Royal United Services Institute, https://rusi.org/occasional-papers/Which-Rules-Why-There-Is-No-Single-Rules-Based-International-System.

[2] See, for example, Moynihan, H. (2017), China’s Evolving Approach to International Dispute Settlement, Briefing, London: Royal Institute of International Affairs, https://www.chathamhouse.org/publication/chinas-evolving-approach-international-dispute-settlement.

[3] UN Environment (2018), Emissions Gap Report 2018, p. XVII, https://www.unenvironment.org/resources/emissions-gap-report-2018.

[4] House of Commons Foreign Affairs Committee (2019), China and the Rules-Based International System: Sixteenth Report of Session 2017–19, p. 32, https://publications.parliament.uk/pa/cm201719/cmselect/cmfaff/612/612.pdf.

[5] Moynihan, H. (2018), ‘China Expands Its Global Governance Ambitions in the Arctic’, Expert Comment, 15 October 2018, https://www.chathamhouse.org/expert/comment/china-expands-its-global-governance-ambitions-arctic.

[6] Updated version proposed 9 January 2015.

[7] Moynihan, H. (2018), ‘Exploring Public International Law Issues with Chinese Scholars – Part Four’, Meeting Summary, 3 June 2018, https://www.chathamhouse.org/publication/exploring-public-international-law-issues-chinese-scholars-part-four.

[8] Chatham House (2019, forthcoming, ‘Security and Prosperity in the Asia-Pacific: The Role of International Law’, conference summary, https://www.chathamhouse.org/event/security-and-prosperity-asia-pacific-role-international-law.

[9] Permanent Court of Arbitration Case No. 2013-19 (Philippines v China), Award of 12 July 2016, https://pca-cpa.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/6/2016/07/PH-CN-20160712-Award.pdf.

[10] Piccone, T. (2018), China’s Long Game on Human Rights at the United Nations, Washington, DC: Brookings Institution, https://www.brookings.edu/wp-content/uploads/2018/09/FP_20181009_china_human_rights.pdf.

[11] Wye, R. (2018), ‘‘The entire Uyghur population is seemingly being treated as suspect’: China’s persecution of its Muslim minority’, LSE Religion and Global Society blog, 18 September 2018, https://blogs.lse.ac.uk/religionglobalsociety/2018/09/the-entire-uyghur-population-is-seemingly-being-treated-as-suspect-chinas-persecution-of-its-muslim-minority/.

[12] Chatham House (2019, forthcoming, ‘Security and Prosperity in the Asia-Pacific: The Role of International Law’.

[13] Walters, M. (2018), ‘Jury is out over China’s new commercial court, say lawyers’, Law Society Gazette, 1 November 2018, https://www.lawgazette.co.uk/law/jury-is-out-over-chinas-new-commercial-court-say-lawyers/5068125.article.

[14] The Economist (2019), ‘Hope remains for Western solidarity. Look at embassies in Beijing’, 17 April 2019, https://www.economist.com/china/2019/04/20/hope-remains-for-western-solidarity-look-at-embassies-in-beijing.

[15] In December 2018, the Five Eyes attributed the activities of a Chinese cyber espionage group targeting intellectual property and sensitive commercial property to China’s Ministry of State Security.

[16] Roberts, A. (2017), Is International Law International?, Oxford: Oxford University Press.

[17] Parton, C. (2019), China–UK Relations: Where to Draw the Border Between Influence and Interference?, RUSI Occasional Paper, February 2019, London: Royal United Services Institute, p. 30, https://rusi.org/publication/occasional-papers/china-uk-relations-where-draw-border-between-influence-and.

[18] House of Commons Foreign Affairs Committee (2019), China and the Rules-Based International System, p. 15.

This essay was produced for the 2019 edition of Chatham House Expert Perspectives – our annual survey of risks and opportunities in global affairs – in which our researchers identify areas where the current sets of rules, institutions and mechanisms for peaceful international cooperation are falling short, and present ideas for reform and modernization.

The European Union is the ultimate ‘rules-based order’. Since the end of the Cold War, the world has become increasingly integrated, in a process that Dani Rodrik has called ‘hyper-globalization’ to distinguish this from the more moderate form of globalization that occurred during the Cold War period.

But Europe, which was already more integrated than the rest of the world, has gone even further in removing barriers to the internal movement of capital, goods and people. The consequence of this has been the need for a more developed system of rules to govern this deep integration.

For much of this period, many Europeans – and also many outside Europe who had a liberal view of international politics – believed that the EU was a kind of blueprint for global governance.

They believed that the rest of the world would simply catch up with the enlightened and apparently successful approach that Europeans had taken. In short, Europeans were showing the way forward for the world.

However, after a decade of crisis, it now seems as if Europe may have overreached. In particular with the creation of the single currency, European rules increasingly extended into areas of life in which member states had previously had relative autonomy.

Since the beginning of the euro crisis in 2010, there has been a backlash against EU rules, which has raised the difficult question of whether international rule-making can go too far.

What makes international rules problematic is that they depoliticize – that is, they take the policy areas they cover out of the realm of democratic contestation. This can be a good thing when applied to policy areas that we think should be non-negotiable, like human rights.

But since the 1980s, and especially since the end of the Cold War, international rules have increasingly applied to areas of policy that not only should be contested but that should be at the centre of contestation – in particular, economic policy areas that have distributional consequences (that is, they create winners and losers).

The EU’s rules constrain its member states even more than global rules – for example, those of the World Trade Organization (WTO) – or rules associated with other regional integration projects constrain nation states elsewhere in the world. In particular, the EU’s fiscal rules – created along with the euro – set strict limits on the ability of member states to run budget deficits and accumulate debt.

Since the beginning of the euro crisis, these fiscal rules have been further tightened, which in turn has magnified the political backlash against the EU system and fuelled tensions between member states.

In democratic nation states, rules are made through a process that gives them what is sometimes called ‘input legitimacy’. International rule-making, by contrast, is essentially the product of power relations between states and therefore lacks this specific kind of legitimacy.

Supporters of European integration as currently constituted – whom one might term ‘pro-Europeans’ – would argue that EU rules are more like domestic rules than international rules: after all, they are agreed through a process involving democratic institutions such as the European Parliament. But even within the EU, power matters – as notably illustrated by Germany’s prominent (and controversial) role in driving the development of fiscal rules since the beginning of the euro crisis.

In addition, because European integration is meant to be an irreversible process, it is extremely difficult to change or abolish rules that have already been agreed. To do so would be ‘disintegration’ in the sense that powers would be returned to member states.

For example, there are good economic and political arguments for abolishing the ‘debt brake’, based on a German model, that EU member states agreed to incorporate into their national constitutions as part of the Fiscal Compact in 2011. But anyone making those arguments is labelled as Eurosceptic or ‘anti-European’.

There is also insufficient differentiation between EU rules. Any decision taken at a European level – even those decisions, such as on the Fiscal Compact, that are outside the EU treaties – becomes part of the EU’s system of rules. To challenge such a decision is therefore to violate the rule of law and therefore the EU’s ‘values’.

As Dieter Grimm has shown, legislation that would normally have the status of secondary law in a nation state has constitutional status in EU law and is therefore ‘immunized against political correction’.[1]

Though European leaders still often speak of the EU as a model for the rest of the world, the reality is that it now illustrates what other regional integration projects should avoid as much as what they should emulate. Even before the euro crisis, few other regions were thinking of creating a common currency.

But they will now think even more carefully about how far to follow Europe down the route of economic integration it has taken – and in particular will be unlikely to introduce EU-style fiscal rules.

The difficult question is where exactly the limits of international rule-making should be set. The European experience in the past decade suggests that rules on economic policy are particularly problematic because of the distributional consequences they have.

But European integration focused on economic policy from its beginnings with the European Coal and Steel Community in the 1950s. Moreover, because globalization is to a large extent an economic phenomenon, economic policy is precisely where international rules are needed.

A good place to start in thinking about where to set the limits of international rule-making may be in terms of the objectives of rules. During the early phase of European integration and the more moderate phase of globalization in the 30 years after the end of the Second World War, integration strengthened nation states – indeed, Alan Milward argued that integration ‘rescued’ the nation state in Europe.[2]

But since the end of the Cold War, rules at both the global level and a European level have been driven by the maximization of economic efficiency. This has undermined the nation state. As Rodrik has argued, a reprioritization is now needed – rules should be made above all with their impact on democracy in mind.[3]

In order to regain legitimacy, Europe should apply this idea of democracy-enhancing rules to its own approach to integration. It should begin by differentiating more clearly between rules that are fundamental to the European project and those about which Europeans can – and should – disagree.

The consequence of thinking of rules above all in terms of legitimacy may be that in some policy areas, particularly those with distributive consequences, rules should be abolished and power returned to member states.

‘Pro-Europeans’ should be open to this kind of ‘disintegration’ as a way to help the EU regain legitimacy and thus be sustainable in the medium term. It is also only by successfully recalibrating the balance between rules and democracy that the EU will once again be seen as a model for regional integration projects in the rest of the world, and for global governance more generally.

Notes

[1] Grimm, D. (2015), ‘The Democratic Costs of Constitutionalisation: The European Case’, European Law Journal, Volume 21, Issue 4, July 2015, https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1111/eulj.12139.

[2] Milward, A. (1999), The European Rescue of the Nation State, London: Routledge.

[3] Rodrik, D. (2006), ‘Put Globalization to Work for Democracies’, New York Times, 17 September 2006, https://www.nytimes.com/2016/09/18/opinion/sunday/put-globalization-to-work-for-democracies.html.

This essay was produced for the 2019 edition of Chatham House Expert Perspectives – our annual survey of risks and opportunities in global affairs – in which our researchers identify areas where the current sets of rules, institutions and mechanisms for peaceful international cooperation are falling short, and present ideas for reform and modernization.

On 3 and 4 June, Chatham House will host a major conference in partnership with the UN Association (UK), supported by the Bill and Melinda Gates and Open Society Foundations, to reflect on the lessons learned from the remarkable life of Kofi Annan, who served as UN secretary-general from 1997 to 2006 and passed away almost a year ago, on 18 August 2018.

The conference will fall on the same days as Donald Trump’s state visit to the United Kingdom, which, though unplanned, brings into stark relief the ways in which current changes in international relations are affecting Kofi Annan’s legacy of UN-led multilateralism that Ban Ki-moon and now Antonio Guterres have carried forward.

A vision of multilateral governance

Kofi Annan advocated a vision of multilateral governance anchored in shared responsibility for global challenges and in promoting the rights and dignity of the individual. He placed the importance of individual freedom and justice alongside the global challenges of poverty and health. The launch of the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs) and the UN Global Fund on HIV/Aids, which brought together both strands of his approach to global governance, stand among his landmark contributions to international affairs.

Kofi Annan’s time as secretary-general also saw him involved in managing numerous crises. The 2003 US-led military intervention in Iraq raised acute questions about the purpose and future of the UN Security Council. The aftermath of the conflict also exposed serious failings in the broader UN system under his leadership.

It was to his credit that he leveraged the investigation into the corruption surrounding the UN’s 1995–2003 ‘oil-for-food’ programme in order to introduce procedures for greater scrutiny over UN financial programmes and personnel appointments. In 2000, he set up and then took on board the criticisms of the Brahimi Report into the failed UN peacekeeping operations in Rwanda and Srebrenica during his tenure as undersecretary-general for peacekeeping.

Global governance on the defensive

One can look back at Kofi Annan’s term as UN secretary-general as a period when ideas for how to improve global governance were in the ascendant, despite the persistence of civil wars and interstate disputes. Today, the persistence of long-standing conflicts and growing competition between the world’s major powers appear to be overwhelming the global agenda, putting ideas for global governance on the defensive.

America’s purposeful disengagement from and disruption of the multilateral institutions that it helped establish during the 20th century is a major factor in this shift. The principal difference with the Cold War is that China’s rise might divide America from its allies rather than unite them. 

China has become embedded in the global economy that America championed, creating new webs of interdependence. On the other hand, China is promoting a system of domestic and international governance that gives primacy to the state over the rights of the individual. In recent years, China has not only supported the world’s most repressive regimes, like North Korea, Venezuela and Zimbabwe, but also corrupt and opaque practices in countries in southeast Asia and Africa. And it is offering new digital surveillance tools that leaders in these countries can use to suppress popular dissent.

Despite concerns over its direction, most states around the world continue to engage China, even US allies in Europe and Asia. America, however, has decided to challenge it. With the world’s two most powerful states in confrontation, and Russia happy to play a disruptive role in between, there is little scope for state-led multilateralism to regain its momentum.

This rise of a more competitive international system has had a negative effect on Kofi Annan’s legacy, eroding some of its highlights, such as expectations for Responsibility to Protect, and weakening multilateralism and respect for human rights in general.

The question for the future is whether Annan’s successors can build on the more radical, transformative aspects of his tenure and bypass this state-led confrontation. The shift from the MDGs to the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) could prove critical in this respect.

A more inclusive approach to complex problem-solving

In order to have a chance of achieving the SDGs, the world needs to deploy a more inclusive approach to complex problem-solving of the sort that Kofi Annan promoted with his Global Compact. Bringing the private sector and civil society proactively into multilateral responses offers the only prospect to end poverty and reduce inequality, build sustainable cities, and shift to responsible production and consumption, along with the other SDGs.

A more inclusive approach also means giving a greater sense of agency to individuals, who can now mobilize digitally and engage in responding to global challenges, such as creating more energy-efficient and climate-friendly lifestyles, with minimal government support. Annan was a pioneer of this more bottom-up approach to development and rights issues after leaving the UN, through his work on youth leadership against violent extremism and on transforming agriculture in Africa.

Thinking of systemic change as a more societal rather than government-led process demands leaders capable of mobilizing mass individual action towards public policy goals, as reflected, for example, in Secretary-General Guterres’ High Level Panel on Digital Cooperation.

The fact that Kofi Annan was dubbed by some ‘the secular pope’ points to people’s search for leadership towards shared global challenges that goes beyond what can be achieved by national action alone. If an important part of his legacy is the idea of more inclusive forms of global governance, then Kofi Annan has provided an essential starting point for the debates that will accompany the UN’s upcoming 75th anniversary.

The 1998 treaty which established the International Criminal Court (ICC) was adopted at a time when the world (or most of it) was willing to reach multilateral agreements on a variety of topics and was encouraging the development of international criminal justice. The two tribunals, set up by the UN Security Council, for the former Yugoslavia and for Rwanda had been relatively successful. The time was ripe for states to agree together to set up a permanent international court with wider scope than the two tribunals.

So the ICC was created, with jurisdiction over the international crimes of genocide, crimes against humanity and war crimes; its jurisdiction for the crime of aggression developed later. The court was given the power to prosecute nationals of states that were parties to the ICC Statute, and also to prosecute where the crime was committed in the territory of a state party, whatever the nationality of the alleged criminals. The court had further jurisdiction when the Security Council referred a situation to it.

That was some 20 years ago. There is now a perception in many quarters that the ICC has not fulfilled the expectations of its founders. The court’s proceedings are cumbersome and lengthy. Many of the accused are still at large, including Omar al-Bashir, the former president of Sudan. Some €1.5 billion has been spent, and there have been only three convictions for the core international crimes.

There have been criticisms of the judges, the former Prosecutor and other officials, as well as concern over particular decisions of the court. The allegation that the court is only interested in crimes in Africa[1] is perhaps heard less frequently now than it once was (most of the African governments concerned referred the situations in their countries to the ICC themselves), and there has not been the mass walk-out of African states that was once predicted.

But in other quarters there is serious unease about the situation in the court. As the UK representative said at a meeting last year, ‘We cannot bury our heads in the sand and pretend everything is fine when it isn’t.’[2]

The negative assessment of the ICC’s work may be countered by the fact that it is the failure of states to cooperate with the court that causes many of the problems. Further, the expectations of states and civil society about the possibilities of international criminal justice have been so high that no court would be able to meet them. It is not possible for one court actually to ‘end impunity’ for international crimes,[3] nor to prevent war-related violence and mass atrocities, nor to satisfy all victims.

Moreover, the criticisms of the ICC come against the background of the global crisis for multilateralism more generally. The present US administration is notoriously hostile towards this international institution.[4]

On the plus side, the establishment of the court has encouraged states to revise their own laws on international crimes and to institute their own prosecutions where it is possible to do so. It is also claimed that the very existence of the court can be a deterrent to potential perpetrators of international crimes. The court has begun to add to the body of international criminal law and has increased the possibility that mass atrocities will be investigated.

But there is indeed some truth in the criticisms made of the internal workings of the court. One problem is that the particular combination of the civil and common law systems that has developed has produced cumbersome procedures regarding the representation of victims at most stages of the proceedings. It has also resulted in endless appeals from huge numbers of small decisions made by one chamber or another.

Then there are the management failures which have led to officials of the court being awarded compensation by the administrative tribunal of the International Labour Organization (ILO) because of the way they were treated by the court, and finally the decision of a few of the judges to take proceedings themselves at the ILO to have their salaries increased. 

Some ICC decisions have been met with surprise. For example, a former vice-president of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Jean-Pierre Bemba, who was in the custody of the ICC for 10 years, was convicted by a unanimous trial chamber of various crimes and then succeeded on his appeal. Following this and the acquittal of former Côte d’Ivoire president Laurent Gbagbo,[5] there are concerns about the ability of the prosecution to succeed in cases against high-level alleged perpetrators.

Most recently, there has been criticism of the reasoning behind the appeal court decision regarding the immunity – or, rather, lack of immunity – of former president Bashir. And a decision of a chamber of the ICC not to authorize the opening of an investigation in Afghanistan has been seen as shielding the US from possible proceedings (though it has been welcomed by others as a pragmatic approach).

The message that certain problems with the ICC need fixing is coming not just from the writings of academics and the legal blogs,[6] but from governments too, including those, like the UK, which are among the foremost supporters of the court.

The former presidents of the ICC’s Assembly of States Parties (which comprises the representatives of all states parties) say that they ‘are disappointed by the quality of some of [the court’s] judicial proceedings, frustrated by some of the results, and exasperated by the management deficiencies that prevent the Court from living up to its full potential’.[7] 

Changes to remove the worst excesses of the procedures that have evolved could be effected without amendments to the treaty incorporating the ICC Statute. It may be that a change in culture is also needed. More modesty by the court, along with more realism from governments and civil society, is needed.

And, attractive as it might seem to push at the boundaries of the law, the court should be realistic in what it can achieve. It is next to impossible to prosecute a case effectively where there is no cooperation from the state on whose territory the crimes were committed.

What is needed is a court that can undertake efficient and effective criminal proceedings, delivering fair and impartial justice in the small number of cases which it is reasonable to expect it to address, in the light of the evidential challenges, limited resources and limited state cooperation.

Governments should decide together at the Assembly of States Parties to set in hand a review of the ICC’s operations. It has been suggested that a group of experts might be mandated to assess the management of the court;[8] on the basis of their report, governments could agree on the necessary improvements.

Not everything, however, can come within the remit of such a group. Governments should adopt new rules and practices to address matters such as the election process for judges and their training; governments might consider reaching their own understandings on how some provisions of the ICC Statute should be interpreted in practice. Governments should reach out to the many civil society organizations which have supported the court over the years, to ensure that they are involved in the process.

Measures of this kind cannot detract from the fact that the ICC is fundamentally sound and that its role is as necessary as when it was first established. As Richard Goldstone, former chief prosecutor of the United Nations International Criminal Tribunals for the former Yugoslavia and Rwanda, has said, ‘If there were no ICC in existence today, many people in many countries would be agitating for and demanding one. That we have one is a singular achievement. It behoves us to make it the best possible and to assist it, as States, civil society, and individuals, in the best and most productive way possible.’[9]

Notes

[1] See, for example, du Plessis, M., Maluwa, T. and O’Reilly, A. (2013), Africa and the International Criminal Court, London: Royal Institute of International Affairs, July 2013, https://www.chathamhouse.org/publications/papers/view/193415.

[2] GOV.UK (2018), ‘UK statement to ICC Assembly of States Parties 17th session’, 5 December 2018, https://www.gov.uk/government/speeches/uk-statement-to-icc-assembly-of-states-parties-17th-session.

[3] As the preamble to the ICC Statute desires. See ICC (2011), Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, p. 1, https://www.icc-cpi.int/resource-library/Documents/RS-Eng.pdf.

[4] See the speech of John Bolton, US National Security Advisor. Just Security (2018), ‘Bolton’s Remarks on the International Criminal Court’, 10 September 2018, https://www.justsecurity.org/60674/national-security-adviser-john-bolton-remarks-international-criminal-court/.

[5] Gbagbo was accused of various crimes which took place after Côte d’Ivoire’s election in 2010, in which Gbagbo lost power to Alassane Ouattara. The case was terminated by the court following a year’s hearings in which the prosecution put forward its evidence.

[6] See, for example, Guilfoyle, D. (2019), ‘Reforming the International Criminal Court: Is it Time for the Assembly of State Parties to be the adults in the room?’, EJIL:Talk! blog post, 8 May 2019, https://www.ejiltalk.org/reforming-the-international-criminal-court-is-it-time-for-the-assembly-of-state-parties-to-be-the-adults-in-the-room/.

[7] Al Hussein, Z. R., Stagno Ugarte, B., Wenaweser, C. and Intelman, T. (2019), ‘The International Criminal Court Needs Fixing’, Atlantic Council, 24 April 2019, https://www.atlanticcouncil.org/blogs/new-atlanticist/the-international-criminal-court-needs-fixing.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Goldstone, R. (2019), ‘Acquittals by the International Criminal Court’, EJIL:Talk! blog post, 18 January 2019, https://www.ejiltalk.org/acquittals-by-the-international-criminal-court/. Richard Goldstone is also a former justice of the Constitutional Court of South Africa.

This essay was produced for the 2019 edition of Chatham House Expert Perspectives – our annual survey of risks and opportunities in global affairs – in which our researchers identify areas where the current sets of rules, institutions and mechanisms for peaceful international cooperation are falling short, and present ideas for reform and modernization.

The most vexing, complicated and elusive question in international relations is how to achieve an order, based on rules, that enjoys legitimacy, rewards investments in cooperation, reconciles clashing interests and deters conflict. It is not a problem over which a magic wand can be waved. But in our own time, immense and patient efforts have been made towards that general goal, however imperfect the result.

The concept of the ‘rules-based international order’ refers today in its most general sense to arrangements put into place to allow for cooperative efforts in addressing geopolitical, economic and other global challenges, and to arbitrate disputes. It is embodied in a variety of multilateral institutions, starting with the United Nations and running through various functional architectures such as the Bretton Woods system, the corpus of international law and other regimes and treaties, down to various regional instances where sovereignty is pooled or where powers have been delegated consensually by states on a particular issue.

Some aspects of the rules-based order are heavily informed by distinct values, such as those contained in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. But, more often than not, they simply prescribe a set of basic principles for how the business of international political and economic relations is to be transacted. The parameters of legitimate and illegitimate behaviour are specified. Compliance is incentivized, and some scope to sanction transgressors is provided for.

For some, the rules-based international order is a politically highly charged concept. Indeed, the absence of a common standardized definition of it is perhaps a by-product of the controversy which the mere notion of a rules-based order often attracts – among those who had no or little part in its shaping; those who regard multilateralism as an infringement of sovereignty and a straitjacket on national ambitions; and those who sense in it a presumption of universal values and shared interests that jars with their own particular historical experience and political preferences. And in a world in which each country occupies its own place on the spectrum of attraction to, tolerance of and resistance to multilateralism, it is inevitable that the present system should be a patchy and incomplete one.

If that patchiness seems increasingly apparent today, then this reflects the proliferation of problems on a truly global scale that multilateral initiatives have as yet failed to keep up with. This is partly because of the sheer pace of change and the deep complexity of problems, and partly because any significant programme of coordinated action requires a focus and consensus that today is in shrinking supply.

More than that, some of the sharpest challenges – climate change; the lack or weakness of rules in the sea, space and cyber domains; the dilemmas thrown up by technological change – are problematic precisely because they are areas in and through which geopolitical competitions are being contested. The policy challenges may be new, but the pattern of behaviour currently surrounding them presents some dangerous echoes from the past.

Throughout history, most attempts to form international orders have been conceived in a coercive way. From classical antiquity to the 20th century, the dominant form of order has been that imposed or attempted by successive territorial empires, or by predominant powers who made the rules by fiat and were deferred to by their neighbours and satellites.

Significant attempts at more collaborative conceptions of order, aimed at coexistence and minimizing risk through rules and accepted conventions, have been far rarer. And the key point about them is that they have been attempted only after competition has spilled over in an uncontrolled, exhausting and ruinous conflict that has called for mechanisms and understandings to prevent a recurrence of disaster. That, in any case, has been the European experience, and subsequently the result of the engulfing crises that radiated out globally from Europe in the 20th century.

Early efforts at order-building focused on mutual recognition and the management of what were felt to be inevitable rivalries. The Westphalian Peace of 1648 emerged from a 30-year period of religious war in Europe. It emphasized the sanctity of sovereignty and non-interference in the internal affairs of other states as a precondition for order, but relied on a jostling balance-of-power approach to the preservation of a basic stability.

A tolerance of conflicts to correct imbalances was implicit to the scheme. But its acute sensitivity to shifts in alignments of power contributed to the later conflicts – from the wars of the Spanish Succession and Austrian Succession to the Seven Years’ War – that ravaged Europe in the 18th century and occurred in an increasingly global theatre of military operations, tracing the development of European imperial projects.

Despite these shortcomings, the balance-of-power model was produced again as a remedy to uncontrolled conflict, at the Congress of Vienna in 1814–15, following more than 20 years of French Revolutionary and Napoleonic wars. A Concert of Europe, accommodating a rehabilitated France, was instituted to regulate the system and periodically decide major geopolitical issues. But it fell into disuse. And although Europe did not suffer a general war for the rest of the 19th century, the salient geopolitical facts were ones not of power balances but of the sharp relative decline of France and the vertiginous rise of Prussia, which defeated Austria and France on the path to German unification.

These dynamics produced convoluted and ever-widening balancing manoeuvres that by the eve of the First World War in 1914 had congealed and hardened into the opposing Triple Alliance and Triple Entente systems, which trapped their respective members into tangled commitments to fight at the trigger of a crisis.

The peacemaking efforts, in Paris in 1919, that followed the war entailed conscious efforts to overturn the balance-of-power model. The tone was set by US President Woodrow Wilson’s Fourteen Points, with their emphasis on transparency and openness, while the concepts of egalitarianism among states, the drive towards disarmament and the practice of collective security were central to the revolutionary creation of a League of Nations in 1920.

But the peacemaking also included a punitive dimension – the designation of German culpability, the demand of economic reparations and territorial adjustments – imposed by victor on vanquished. To its critics, the international order being evolved, and the rules drafted to underpin it, had the attributes of an involuntary settlement more than those of a construct built by equals.

Lacking a comprehensive membership – crucially, the US had demurred, while other major powers progressively withdrew or were thrown out – and the military means to impose itself, a divided and often circumspect League faltered in meeting a succession of international crises. It then collided fatally with the revanchism of Germany, Italy and Japan that produced the Second World War.

The ambitiousness and eventual institutional intricacy of the UN system founded in 1945 marked a response to the scale of the ordeal through which the world had passed, and sought to correct the deficits of the League. The UN’s membership and the activity of its main organs and specialized agencies all grew prodigiously in succeeding decades, as did its efforts to advance the spirit and culture of multilateralism.

But by giving special privileges to the victors, principally through veto rights held among a small group of permanent Security Council members, the UN reflected and perpetuated a certain historical circumstance: there was no formal institutional adaptation in its highest structures to account for a progressive redistribution of international power, the rehabilitation of defeated countries, the rise of the decolonized world or the desire of emerging powers to assume international responsibilities commensurate with their heft. Rather than a mechanism for international governance, it remained an intergovernmental body through which states pursued their specific or collective priorities.

Indeed, the dominant questions around order in the first five decades of the UN’s existence were those posed by the Cold War conducted by the US and the Soviet Union and their respective allies and satellites, while the UN in effect was a prominent arena in which this global antagonism was carried out.

The world order was bipolar in concentrating power in two camps, with a swath of neutrals, non-aligned and swing players in between; and bi-systemic in the complete contrast in the ideological affinities and economic models that were promoted. Nuclear weapons raised the stakes associated with direct conflict to an existential level, and so pushed armed contests to peripheral theatres or on to skirmishing proxies.

The collapse of communism in the early 1990s ushered in a new dispensation. Those who divined the arrival of a ‘unipolar moment’ for the US were perhaps more accurate in their choice of epithet than they knew. At least on the surface, the US became by far the preponderant power. The decline and 1991 dissolution of the Soviet Union, in consequence of its economic decrepitude and strategic overstretch, not only removed the US’s peer competitor, but also opened up avenues for promoting economic liberalization and democratic government.

This shift was manifest in particular in changing dynamics in Europe. The US had sponsored the reunification of Germany and was a patron of its subsequent embedding in an integrating, democratic and liberal region. Over time, this drew the former Warsaw Pact members into EU and NATO structures (albeit at a pace and with a completeness that Russia’s strategic calculations could not be accommodated to).

And yet, despite these advances, in retrospect the chief development of the 20 years after the Cold War was a different one: globalization had at a gathering pace prompted a redistribution of political power, while its interlocking economic structures created a dense web of interests and dependencies that moved in all directions. It was likely in these circumstances that the appearance of any major emergency would produce insistent voices demanding what they saw as a more inclusive, legitimate and effective form of international order.

Crises duly arrived, first in the shape of the 2003 US-led invasion of Iraq, which strained alliances and stirred controversial debates about the justice and permissibility of military interventions and the need for constraints on US power; and then in the form of the financial meltdown of 2008, seen by many as a principally Western debacle calling for new global economic governance structures as instanced in the improvised G20. Neither set of debates was conclusively resolved, but each persisted against the backdrop of quickening systemic change.

The dilemmas about the shape and maintenance of a rules-based order with multilateralism at its core have since only deepened. The world is pulling in different directions. The ‘America First’ posture of the Trump administration has upturned the central feature of the system. It entails a distaste for multilateral agreements, a disavowal of traditional notions of US leadership, and an insistence on the unimpeded exercise of American power in pursuit of defined national interests.

China asserts the centrality of multilateralism, and practises it selectively, but on the whole favours binary diplomatic transactions where it holds asymmetric advantages; it has used this approach in the construction of its Belt and Road Initiative, as well as on other fronts.

Europe has created in its continent a rules-based order par excellence in the shape of the EU, but its energy has been sapped and its introversion fed by a succession of crises, of which the amputation of the Brexit-bound UK is simply one. The EU has yet to chart its future course or define a global strategy to uphold and advance the multilateralism which has been at its core.

Russia unabashedly is subverting the rules-based order as part of a programme of aggrieved self-aggrandizement. Japan champions the principle of a rules-based system, but the country has been disoriented by its abrupt detachment on this issue from its traditional US partner; while Japan has sought to engage like-minded countries in the West, they have not forged a concerted practical plan of action together.

Among other regional powers, Brazil has a populist government that echoes many of the Trump administration’s instincts, and India, whatever its preferences, has yet to acquire a foreign policy or presence on the global stage equal to its demographic weight and economic potential.

Prominent points of risk in this fragmenting picture are the multilateral trade system, efforts to address climate change, and collective measures to deal with entrenched conflicts.

One obvious consequence of the attrition of the rules-based system through the indifference or ambitions of the great powers is that it will leave smaller states much more exposed and hostage to the vagaries of geopolitical competition. A key question therefore is whether such states will choose and be able to defend a system which gives them a measure of protection.

Over recent decades, a variety of regional groupings – ASEAN, the African Union, the Gulf Cooperation Council, the Organization of American States – have evolved as species of rules-based mechanisms and in order to gather their collective weight. They make a ready constituency for those who would build a coalition for multilateralism. But it is also clear that the support of smaller regional players for such an approach depends on a revision of the rule-making system towards greater inclusivity and a broader say as to the issues it should address.

It is in the context of these trends and structural shifts that Chatham House Expert Perspectives 2019 offers ideas for how to modernize and adapt elements of the rules-based international order. As the title of this opening essay indicates, the imperative to ‘adapt’ reflects the gravity of contemporary challenges, and the inability of many existing structures to underpin ever-more-essential cooperation. Chatham House experts do not offer a master plan, but they attack the problem from a variety of indicative angles.

Suggestions are offered as to where gaps in international rules – regarding economic governance, the global health architecture and in respect of under-regulated domains such as space, for example – need to be filled to address immediate problems and advertise the relevance of multilateralism.

Other ideas demonstrate how logjams affecting some aspects of the system can be worked around; how key powers with scope to shape the system should be engaged; how a broader variety of actors beyond national governments need to be drawn into the effort; how rule-breakers might be tackled; and how imposing order on some chaotic situations requires the fundamental premises of existing policies to be rethought.

Chatham House, which celebrates its centenary in 2020, is a child of efforts after the Great War to reconceive the conduct of international relations and fulfil a mission that is today defined as the creation of a ‘sustainably secure, prosperous and just world’. The historical record shows that international orders not built on these attributes will fail.

This essay was produced for the 2019 edition of Chatham House Expert Perspectives – our annual survey of risks and opportunities in global affairs – in which our researchers identify areas where the current sets of rules, institutions and mechanisms for peaceful international cooperation are falling short, and present ideas for reform and modernization.

The development of governance in a wide range of digital spheres – from cyberspace to internet infrastructure to emerging technologies such as artificial intelligence (AI) – is failing to match rapid advances in technical capabilities or the rise in security threats. This is leaving serious regulatory gaps, which means that instruments and mechanisms essential for protecting privacy and data, tackling cybercrime or establishing common ethical standards for AI, among many other imperatives, remain largely inadequate.

A starting point for effective policy formation is to recognize the essential complexity of the digital landscape, and the consequent importance of creating a ‘common language’ for multiple stakeholders (including under-represented actors such as smaller and/or developing countries, civil society and non-for-profit organizations).

The world’s evolving technological infrastructure is not a monolithic creation. In practice, it encompasses a highly diverse mix of elements – so-called ‘high-tech domains’,[1] hardware, systems, algorithms, protocols and standards – designed by a plethora of private companies, public bodies and non-profit organizations.[2] Varying cultural, economic and political assumptions have shaped where and which technologies have been deployed so far, and how they have been implemented.

Perhaps the most notable trend is the proliferation of techno-national regimes and private-sector policy initiatives, reflecting often-incompatible doctrines in respect of privacy, openness, inclusion and state control. Beyond governments, the interests and ambitions of prominent multinationals (notably the so-called ‘GAFAM’ tech giants in the West, and their ‘BATX’ counterparts in China)[3] are significant factors feeding into this debate.

Cyberspace and AI – two case studies

Two particular case studies highlight the essential challenges that this evolving – and, in some respects, still largely unformed – policy landscape presents. The first relates to cyberspace. Since 1998, Russia has established itself as a strong voice in the cyberspace governance debate – calling for a better understanding, at the UN level, of ICT developments and their impact on international security.

The country’s efforts were a precursor to the establishment in 2004 of a series of UN Groups of Governmental Experts (GGEs), aimed at strengthening the security of global information and telecommunications systems. These groups initially succeeded in developing common rules, norms and principles around some key issues. For example, the 2013 GGE meeting recognized that international law applies to the digital space and that its enforcement is essential for a secure, peaceful and accessible ICT environment.

However, the GGE process stalled in 2017, primarily due to fundamental disagreements between countries on the right to self-defence and on the applicability of international humanitarian law to cyber conflicts. The breakdown in talks reflected, in particular, the divide between two principal techno-ideological blocs: one, led by the US, the EU and like-minded states, advocating a global and open approach to the digital space; the other, led mainly by Russia and China, emphasizing a sovereignty-and-control model.

The divide was arguably entrenched in December 2018, with the passage of two resolutions at the UN General Assembly. A resolution sponsored by Russia created a working group to identify new norms and look into establishing regular institutional dialogue.

At the same time, a US-sponsored resolution established a GGE tasked, in part, with identifying ways to promote compliance with existing cyber norms. Each resolution was in line with its respective promoter’s stance on cyberspace. While some observers considered these resolutions potentially complementary, others saw in them competing campaigns to cement a preferred model as the global norm. Outside the UN, there have also been dozens of multilateral and bilateral accords with similar objectives, led by diverse stakeholders.[4]

The second case study concerns AI. Emerging policy in this sector suffers from an absence of global standards and a proliferation of proposed regulatory models. The potential ability of AI to deliver unprecedented capabilities in so many areas of human activity – from automation and language applications to warfare – means that it has become an area of intense rivalry between governments seeking technical and ideological leadership of this field.

China has by far the most ambitious programme. In 2017, its government released a three-step strategy for achieving global dominance in AI by 2030. Beijing aims to create an AI industry worth about RMB 1 trillion ($150 billion)[5] and is pushing for greater use of AI in areas ranging from military applications to the development of smart cities. Elsewhere, the US administration has issued an executive order on ‘maintaining American leadership on AI’.

On the other side of the Atlantic, at least 15 European countries (including France, Germany and the UK) have set up national AI plans. Although these strategies are essential for the development of policy infrastructure, they are country-specific and offer little in terms of global coordination. Ominously, greater inclusion and cooperation are scarcely mentioned, and remain the least prioritized policy areas.[6]

Competing multilateral frameworks on AI have also emerged. In April 2019, the European Commission published its ethics guidelines for trustworthy AI. Ministers from Nordic countries[7] recently issued their own declaration on collaboration in ‘AI in the Nordic-Baltic region’. And leaders of the G7 have committed to the ‘Charlevoix Common Vision for the Future of Artificial Intelligence’, which includes 12 guiding principles to ensure ‘human-centric AI’.

More recently, OECD member countries adopted a set of joint recommendations on AI. While nations outside the OECD were welcomed into the coalition – with Argentina, Brazil and Colombia adhering to the OECD’s newly established principles – China, India and Russia have yet to join the discussion. Despite their global aspirations, these emerging groups remain largely G7-led or EU-centric, and again highlight the divide between parallel models. 

The importance of ‘swing states’

No clear winner has emerged from among the competing visions for cyberspace and AI governance, nor indeed from the similar contests for doctrinal control in other digital domains. Concerns are rising that a so-called ‘splinternet’ may be inevitable – in which the internet fragments into separate open and closed spheres and cyber governance is similarly divided.

Each ideological camp is trying to build a critical mass of support by recruiting undecided states to its cause. Often referred to as ‘swing states’, the targets of these overtures are still in the process of developing their digital infrastructure and determining which regulatory and ethical frameworks they will apply. Yet the policy choices made by these countries could have a major influence on the direction of international digital governance in the future.

India offers a case in point. For now, the country seems to have chosen a versatile approach, engaging with actors on various sides of the policy debate, depending on the technology governance domain. On the one hand, its draft Personal Data Protection Bill mirrors principles in the EU’s General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR), suggesting a potential preference for the Western approach to data security.

However, in 2018, India was the leading country in terms of internet shutdowns, with over 100 reported incidents.[8] India has also chosen to collaborate outside the principal ideological blocs, as evidenced by an AI partnership it has entered into with the UAE. At the UN level, India has taken positions that support both blocs, although more often favouring the sovereignty-and-control approach.

Principles for rule-making

Sovereign nations have asserted aspirations for technological dominance with little heed to the cross-border implications of their policies. This drift towards a digital infrastructure fragmented by national regulation has potentially far-reaching societal and political consequences – and implies an urgent need for coordinated rule-making at the international level.

The lack of standards and enforcement mechanisms has created instability and increased vulnerabilities in democratic systems. In recent years, liberal democracies have been targeted by malevolent intrusions in their election systems and media sectors, and their critical infrastructure has come under increased threat. If Western nations cannot align around, and enforce, a normative framework that seeks to preserve individual privacy, openness and accountability through regulation, a growing number of governments may be drawn towards repressive forms of governance.

To mitigate those risks, efforts to negotiate a rules-based international order for the digital space should keep several guiding principles in mind. One is the importance of developing joint standards, as well as the need for consistent messaging towards the emerging cohort of engaged ‘swing states’. Another is the need for persistence in ensuring that the political, civic and economic benefits associated with a more open and well-regulated digital sphere are made clear to governments and citizens everywhere.

Countries advocating an open, free and secure model should take the lead in embracing and promoting a common affirmative model – one that draws on human rights principles (such as the rights to freedom of opinion, freedom of expression and privacy) and expands their applications to the digital space.  

Specific rules on cyberspace and technology use need to include pragmatic policy ideas and models of implementation. As this regulatory corpus develops, rules should be adapted to reflect informed consideration of economic and social priorities and attitudes, and to keep pace with what is possible technologically.[9]

Notes

[1] Including but not limited to AI and an associated group of digital technologies, such as the Internet of Things, big data, blockchain, quantum computing, advanced robotics, self-driving cars and other autonomous systems, additive manufacturing (i.e. 3D printing), social networks, the new generation of biotechnology, and genetic engineering.

[2] O’Hara, K. and Hall, W. (2018), Four Internets: The Geopolitics of Digital Governance, Centre for International Governance Innovation, CIGI Paper No. 206, https://www.cigionline.org/publications/four-internets-geopolitics-digital-governance.

[3] GAFAM = Google, Amazon, Facebook, Apple and Microsoft; BATX = Baidu, Alibaba, Tencent and Xiaomi.

[4] Carnegie Endowment for International Peace (undated), ‘Cyber Norms Index’, https://carnegieendowment.org/publications/interactive/cybernorms (accessed 30 May 2019).

[5] Future of Life Institute (undated), ‘AI Policy – China’, https://futureoflife.org/ai-policy-china?cn-reloaded=1.

[6] Dutton, T. (2018), ‘Building an AI World: Report on National and Regional AI Strategies’, 6 December 2018, CIFAR, https://www.cifar.ca/cifarnews/2018/12/06/building-an-ai-world-report-on-national-and-regional-ai-strategies.

[7] Including Denmark, Estonia, Finland, the Faroe Islands, Iceland, Latvia, Lithuania, Norway, Sweden and the Åland Islands.

[8] Shahbaz, A. (2018), Freedom on the Net 2018: The Rise of Digital Authoritarianism, Freedom House, October 2018, https://freedomhouse.org/report/freedom-net/freedom-net-2018/rise-digital-authoritarianism.

[9] Google White Paper (2018), Perspectives on Issues in AI Governance, https://www.blog.google/outreach-initiatives/public-policy/engaging-policy-stakeholders-issues-ai-governance/.

This essay was produced for the 2019 edition of Chatham House Expert Perspectives – our annual survey of risks and opportunities in global affairs – in which our researchers identify areas where the current sets of rules, institutions and mechanisms for peaceful international cooperation are falling short, and present ideas for reform and modernization.

With international trade discourse taking an increasingly transactional and sometimes belligerent tone, it would be easy to overlook the quiet revolution currently under way to bring new voices into trade policy development and monitoring. The traditional division of responsibilities between the executive and legislature – whereby treaties are negotiated and signed by the executive, and the legislature does what is necessary to implement them – may be undergoing some change.

Growing awareness of the implications of trade and investment treaties for many aspects of day-to-day life – food standards, employment opportunities, environmental quality, availability of medicines and data protection, just to name a few – is fuelling demands by people and businesses for more of a say in the way these rules are formulated and developed.

Various options for enhancing public and parliamentary scrutiny of trading proposals have recently been examined by two UK parliamentary select committees.[1] The reason for this interest is obviously Brexit, which has presented UK civil servants and parliamentarians with the unusual (some would say exciting) opportunity to design an approval and scrutiny process for trade agreements from scratch.

Doubtless, EU authorization, liaison and approval procedures (which include a scrutinizing role for the European Parliament) will be influential,[2] as will the European Commission’s experience with stakeholder engagement on trade issues.[3] The recommendations of both UK select committees to include human rights impact assessment processes as part of pre-negotiation preparations[4] echo calls from UN agencies and NGOs for more rigorous and timely analysis of the human rights risks that may be posed by new trading relationships.[5] Again, EU practice with what it terms ‘sustainability impact assessment’ of future trade agreements provides a potential model to draw from.[6] 

However, process is no substitute for action. Human rights impact assessment is never an end in itself; rather, it is a means to a positive end, in this case a trade agreement which is aligned with the trading partners’ respective human rights obligations and aspirations. It bears remembering, though, that the idea of assessing trade proposals for future human rights risks is a relatively recent one. Do we have the tools and resources to make sure that this is a meaningful compliance and risk management exercise?

Thus far there is little evidence that human rights impact assessment and stakeholder engagement exercises are having any real impact on the content of trade agreements.[7] This is the case even in the EU, where practice in these areas is the most advanced and systematic.[8]

There are several possible reasons for this. First, the methodological challenges are enormous. Aside from the crystal-ball gazing needed to forecast the social, economic and environmental effects of a trade intervention well into the future, demonstrating causal links between a trade agreement and a predicted adverse impact is often highly problematic given the number of other economic and political factors that may be in play.[9]

Secondly, there are many challenges around the need to engage with affected people and listen to their views.[10] The sheer number of possible impacts of a trade agreement on different individuals and communities, as well as the range of rights potentially engaged, makes this a difficult (some would say impossible) task. Some prioritization is always necessary.

This makes for difficult decisions about who to engage with and how. Perceived bias or an apparent lack of even-handedness – favouring business compared to civil society, for instance – can sow mistrust about the true aims of such a process, undermining its future effectiveness as participants begin to question whether it is genuine or worthwhile.[11]

The challenges are even more acute where impact assessment practitioners are tasked with investigating potential human rights impacts in other countries. Even if it is possible to get past the inevitable political sensitivities,[12] the sort of in-depth consultations required will be beyond the budget and time constraints of most assignments.[13]

There are good reasons why trade policy should be subject to greater public and parliamentary scrutiny, and why there should be more opportunities for public participation in the formation of new trading regimes. By building more opportunities for stakeholder consultation at these stages, we can acquire perspectives on trade that are not available from other forms of assessment and analysis.

However, policymakers should be wary of overstating the benefits of existing procedural models. Human rights impact assessment processes are still struggling to provide compelling analyses of the relationships between trade agreements and the enjoyment of human rights, let alone a roadmap for policymakers and trade negotiators as to what should be done.[14]

And financial and practical barriers to participation in stakeholder engagement exercises mean that, at best, these will provide only a partial picture of stakeholder impacts and views.

Experiences with human rights impact assessment of trade agreements so far demonstrate the need for realism about two things: first, the extent to which one can sensibly anticipate and analyse human rights-related risks and opportunities in the preparation stages for a new trading agreement; and, second, the extent to which problems identified in this way can be headed off with the right form of words in the treaty itself.

Both recent UK select committee reports place considerable faith in the ability of pre-project transparency and scrutiny processes to flush out potential problems and prescribe solutions. Of course, there may be cases where frontloading the analysis in this way could be useful, for instance where the human rights implications are so clear that they can readily be addressed through upfront commitments by the parties concerned, whether by bespoke or standardized approaches.

More often, though, for a trade agreement running many years into the future, human rights impacts and implications will take time to emerge, suggesting the need for robust monitoring and mitigation frameworks designed with longevity in mind. Ideally, pre-signing approval and assessment processes would lay the groundwork for future action by both trading partners, either jointly or separately (though preferably both).

To this end, as well as developing ideas for more robust substantive provisions on human rights, policymakers should consider the institutional arrangements required – whether pursuant to the trade agreement or by complementary processes – to ensure that human rights-related risks identified during the planning stages are properly and proactively followed up, that emerging risks are tackled in a timely fashion, and that there are opportunities for meaningful stakeholder contributions to these processes.

Notes

[1] UK Joint Committee on Human Rights (2019), ‘Human Rights Protections in International Agreements, Seventeenth Report of Session 2017–19’, HC 1833 HL paper 310, 12 March 2019, https://publications.parliament.uk/pa/jt201719/jtselect/jtrights/1833/1833.pdf; and House of Commons International Trade Committee (2018), ‘UK Trade Policy Transparency and Scrutiny, Sixth Report of Session 2017-2019’, HC 1043, 29 December 2018.

[2] European Parliament and Directorate General for External Policies (2019), Parliamentary scrutiny of trade policies across the western world, study paper, March 2019, http://www.europarl.europa.eu/RegData/etudes/STUD/2019/603477/EXPO_STU(2019)603477_EN.pdf.

[3] European Commission (2019), ‘Trade policy and you’, http://ec.europa.eu/trade/trade-policy-and-you/index_en.htm.

[4] See UK Joint Committee on Human Rights (2019), ‘Human Rights Protections in International Agreements’, para 12; and House of Commons International Trade Committee (2018), ‘UK Trade Policy Transparency and Scrutiny’, paras 124–34.

[5] OHCHR (2003), Report of the High Commissioner for Human Rights on Human Rights, Trade and Investment, 2 July 2003, E/CN.4/Sub.2/2003/9, Annex, at para 63; UN Economic and Social Council (2017), ‘General Comment No 24 (2017) of the Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights on State obligations under the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights in the context of business activities’, UN Doc. E/C.12/GC/24, 10 August 2017, para 13; and UN General Assembly (2011), ‘Guiding principles on human rights impact assessment of trade and investment agreements’, Report of the Special Rapporteur on the Right to Food, Olivier De Schutter, UN Doc. A/HRC/19/59/Add.5, 19 December 2011.

[6] European Commission (2016), Handbook for Sustainability Impact Assessment (2nd ed.), Brussels: European Union, http://trade.ec.europa.eu/doclib/docs/2016/april/tradoc_154464.PDF.

[7] Zerk, J. (2019), Human Rights Impact Assessment of Trade Agreements, Chatham House Research Paper, London: Royal Institute of International Affairs, https://www.chathamhouse.org/publication/human-rights-impact-assessment-trade-agreements.

[8] Ibid., pp. 11–13. For a detailed explanation of the EU’s approach to human rights impact assessment, see European Commission (2016), Handbook for Sustainability Impact Assessment.

[9] Zerk (2019), Human Rights Impact Assessment of Trade Agreements, pp. 14–21.

[10] Ibid., pp. 21–22.

[11] Ergon Associates (2011), Trade and Labour: Making effective use of trade sustainability impact assessments and monitoring mechanisms, Final Report to DG Employment, Social Affairs and Inclusion European Commission, September 2011; and Gammage, C. (2010), ‘A Sustainability Impact Assessment of the Economic Partnership Agreements: Challenging the Participatory Process’, Law and Development Review, 3(1): pp. 107–34. For a civil society view, see Trade Justice Movement (undated), ‘Trade Justice Movement submission to the International Trade Committee inquiry into UK Trade Policy Transparency and Scrutiny’, https://www.tjm.org.uk/resources/briefings/tjm-submission-to-the-international-trade-committee-inquiry-into-uk-trade-policy-transparency-and-scrutiny, esp. paras 23–32.

[12] Zerk (2019), Human Rights Impact Assessment of Trade Agreements, pp. 20–21.

[13] Ibid., pp. 21–22.

[14] Ibid.

This essay was produced for the 2019 edition of Chatham House Expert Perspectives – our annual survey of risks and opportunities in global affairs – in which our researchers identify areas where the current sets of rules, institutions and mechanisms for peaceful international cooperation are falling short, and present ideas for reform and modernization.

With more protracted and urbanized conflicts, the character of warfare is changing in a manner that is having a greater impact on children. Aside from physical harm, they face the trauma of family separation and displacement, are vulnerable to sexual abuse and recruitment as soldiers and suffer severe disruption to their education. This event will discuss how international humanitarian law applies to the protection of children. Are offences against children in armed conflict being prosecuted adequately? Are there better ways of ensuring compliance with the law?

This meeting is the second in a series of three commemorating the 70th anniversary of the 1949 Geneva Conventions.

This event, which is supported by the British Red Cross, will be followed by a drinks reception.

THIS EVENT IS NOW FULL AND REGISTRATION HAS CLOSED.

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.

In this introduction to a special section of the September 2019 issue of International Affairs, we revisit the main themes and arguments of our article ‘Beyond seablindness: a new agenda for maritime security studies’, published in this journal in November 2017. We reiterate our call for more scholarly attention to be paid to the maritime environment in international relations and security studies. We argue that the contemporary maritime security agenda should be understood as an interlinked set of challenges of growing global, regional and national significance, and comprising issues of national, environmental, economic and human security. We suggest that maritime security is characterized by four main characteristics, including its interconnected nature, its transnationality, its liminality—in the sense of implicating both land and sea—and its national and institutional cross-jurisdictionality. Each of the five articles in the special section explores aspects of the contemporary maritime security agenda, including themes of geopolitics, international law, interconnectivity, maritime security governance and the changing spatial order at sea.

Since assuming office, President Donald Trump’s many encounters with litigation have exposed significant irregularities of the American legal system as it applies to the president.

These encounters – including but not limited to accusations of defamation, obstruction, perjury and non-disclosure agreements – have shown President Trump to hold a particular interpretation of how the rule of law should apply to someone holding the highest elected office in the United States of America.

However, an analysis of Trump’s legal history prior to his assumption of office reveals a tried and tested method of using litigation – or the threat of it – to quieten criticism and opponents. As Trump faces possible impeachment in the House of Representatives, what – if any – influence might his combative approach towards legal battles have on the political proceedings?

Drawing on New York attorney James Zirin’s new book, Plaintiff in Chief, this event examines the relationship between President Trump’s litigation history and his approach to the presidency.

How has the American legal system facilitated Trump’s attitude towards litigation? How can his litigation toolkit be countered?

And what impact has the president’s approach to litigation had on the domestic and global reputation of the American legal system and the office of the president as accountable and credible institutions?

 

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.

Following just over one year in office, UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, Michelle Bachelet, outlines her ongoing priorities at a tumultuous time for fundamental rights protections worldwide.

She discusses the rights implications of climate change, gender inequality including the advancement of sexual and reproductive rights, the protection of vulnerable groups and the need to work closely with states, civil society and business to protect and advance human rights.

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.

Marysia Zalewski's work has taught us, as a collective of feminist scholars, to be cautious of neat instruction manuals and coherently set out plans of action; of claims to sure knowledge about danger, violence, and its subjects and remedies; of the fanfare of grand arrivals; and of the quieter staking of ground that has been seemingly won. Zalewski has persistently reminded us in different ways that we/she does ‘not even know what gender is or does’. Far from a flippant response to the emptiness of gender mainstreaming policies, this seemingly simple statement instead serves as a glaring post-it note on the margins of our texts about International Relations theory, feminism, sex/gender and violence— both those that we read, as well as those that we write. However, this lesson is often forgotten in our rush to understand and establish gendered harms as valid and important, and to seek their redress. Gleaning insights from Zalewski's work, this article critically considers possible responses to the 2018 Nobel Peace Prize. Its aim is not to delve into a discussion of the politics or effects of the Peace Prize as such, but to instead use the 2018 Peace Prize as a marker—a moment to consider the possibility for critique in relation to sexual violence.

Feminist interventions in international politics are, more often than not, understood (and visible) as interventions in relation to policy documents. These policies—in this case the United Nations Security Council's resolutions on Women, Peace and Security—often feature as the end point of feminist advocacy efforts or as the starting point for feminist analysis and critique. In this article the author responds to the provocations throughout Marysia Zalewski's work to think (and tell) the spaces of international politics differently, in this case by working with the concept of feminist failure as it is produced in feminist policy critique. Inspired by Zalewski's Feminist International Relations: exquisite corpse, the article explores the material and imaginary spaces in which both policies and critique are produced. It picks up and reflects upon a narrative refrain recognizable in feminist critiques on Women, Peace and Security policy—that we must not make war safe for women—as a way to reflect on the inevitability of failure and the ostensible boundaries between theory and practice. The author takes permission from Zalewski's creative interventions and her recognition of the value of the ‘detritus of the everyday’—here a walk from New York's Grand Central Station to the UN Headquarters, musings on the flash of a particular shade of blue, and the contents of a footnoted acknowledgement, begin to trace an international political space that is produced through embodied and quotidian practice.