International Court of Justice

Based on Wikipedia: International Court of Justice

The World's Supreme Court Has No Police Force

Here's a strange thing: the highest court on Earth, the one that settles disputes between nations, has no way to enforce its own rulings. The International Court of Justice can declare that one country has wronged another, that borders have been violated, that wars are illegal. And then? Then it's up to politics.

The court sits in a grand building called the Peace Palace in The Hague, Netherlands. It's the only major organ of the United Nations not located in New York City, which tells you something about how international law developed—through European diplomacy, peace conferences, and the peculiar optimism that followed devastating wars.

Since 1947, nations have brought over two hundred cases to this court. Its rulings are technically binding. But when the United States lost a case brought by Nicaragua in the 1980s—the court found America's covert war there violated international law—the United States simply walked away. It withdrew from the court's compulsory jurisdiction entirely. The court could declare what was right. It couldn't make anyone listen.

Born from the Ashes of Two World Wars

The International Court of Justice, sometimes called the World Court, wasn't humanity's first attempt at building a global tribunal. That distinction belongs to an earlier experiment born from the idealism of the late nineteenth century.

In 1899, Russian Tsar Nicholas II convened what became known as the Hague Peace Conference. The major powers gathered—along with smaller nations—and produced something remarkable: the Permanent Court of Arbitration. Despite its grand name, this wasn't really a court at all. It was more like a list of respected jurists that disputing countries could pick from when they wanted to settle a fight without going to war.

The arbitrators weren't permanent. They came and went as cases required. But the idea stuck: maybe nations could resolve their conflicts through law instead of bloodshed.

A second conference in 1907 tried to go further. The United States, Great Britain, and Germany jointly proposed a real permanent court with full-time judges. The delegates loved the concept but couldn't agree on how to choose those judges. Whose lawyers would sit in judgment of the world? The matter was tabled, supposedly for a future conference that never came. World War I intervened.

The League's Experiment

The unprecedented slaughter of the First World War shattered the old certainties. Out of that horror came the League of Nations, the first genuine attempt at a worldwide organization for keeping peace. And Article 14 of the League's founding document called for creating a real international court.

In December 1920, the League established the Permanent Court of International Justice. This was something genuinely new in human history.

Unlike the earlier arbitration panels, this court had permanent judges who served fixed terms. It had a permanent registry—essentially a bureaucracy that maintained records and handled communications with governments. Its proceedings were largely public, with written briefs, oral arguments, and documentary evidence all open to scrutiny. Most radically, countries could declare in advance that they accepted the court's authority to decide certain types of disputes, making its jurisdiction compulsory rather than voluntary.

The court sat in the Peace Palace in The Hague, sharing space with the older arbitration tribunal. Its fifteen judges were selected through an elegant compromise: both the League's Council and its Assembly voted independently, and only candidates who won majorities in both bodies could serve. This prevented either the great powers or the smaller nations from dominating the bench.

The statute required judges to represent "the main forms of civilization and the principal legal systems of the world." This phrase, deliberately vague, meant that the bench would include jurists trained in common law traditions (like those of Britain and America), civil law traditions (like those of France and Germany), and other legal systems. No single approach to justice would monopolize the court.

Success, Then Collapse

From 1922 to 1940, the Permanent Court of International Justice handled twenty-nine disputes between nations and issued twenty-seven advisory opinions on legal questions. Hundreds of international treaties specifically granted it jurisdiction over potential conflicts. The court helped clarify ambiguities in international law and settle serious disputes peacefully.

But there was a glaring absence. The United States had helped design this court—American jurists and diplomats shaped its structure—yet America never joined. Presidents Wilson, Harding, Coolidge, Hoover, and Roosevelt all supported membership. None could muster the two-thirds Senate majority required to ratify the treaty. American isolationism proved stronger than American idealism.

By the 1930s, the League itself was failing. Japan invaded Manchuria and simply walked out when criticized. Italy attacked Ethiopia. Germany rearmed and began its march toward war. The court's caseload peaked in 1933, then declined as nations turned from law toward force.

The court held its last public session in December 1939, three months after World War II began. It issued its final orders in February 1940. Then silence.

Building Again

Even as the war raged, planners began thinking about what would come after. In 1942, the United States and United Kingdom jointly declared their support for establishing or re-establishing an international court once peace returned. By 1943, a panel of jurists from around the world was meeting in London to discuss the details.

Their recommendations were practical: base the new court's statute on the old one, since that had worked well enough; keep the advisory jurisdiction; make acceptance voluntary. The major Allied powers—the United States, the United Kingdom, the Soviet Union, and China—agreed that some kind of new international organization was necessary.

At the Dumbarton Oaks conference in 1944, representatives sketched out what would become the United Nations. An international court was part of the plan from the beginning. In April 1945, forty-four jurists from around the world gathered in Washington to draft the court's statute. The document they produced looked remarkably similar to its predecessor's.

This raised an obvious question: why create a new court at all? Why not simply revive the old one?

The answer was political symbolism as much as substance. The old court belonged to the failed League. The new United Nations needed its own institutions, its own fresh start. When the San Francisco Conference established the UN in June 1945, it created the International Court of Justice as one of the organization's six principal organs, alongside the General Assembly, the Security Council, and others. The court's statute became part of the UN Charter itself.

The old court formally dissolved in October 1945, transferring its archives and its home in the Peace Palace to its successor. The judges resigned in January 1946. The following month, the new UN General Assembly and Security Council elected the first judges of the International Court of Justice. In April 1946, the new court held its first meeting. Its inaugural president was José Gustavo Guerrero of El Salvador—who had also been the last president of the old court. Continuity in revolution.

How the Court Works

Fifteen judges sit on the International Court of Justice, each elected to a nine-year term. The elections are staggered so that five seats come up every three years, ensuring the court never faces a complete turnover. Both the General Assembly and the Security Council must approve each judge, voting independently—the same elegant compromise the earlier court used.

No two judges may come from the same country. The bench must represent the world's major legal traditions and civilizations. In practice, this has evolved into an informal geographic allocation: roughly five seats for Western nations, three for Africa, two for Eastern Europe, three for Asia, and two for Latin America and the Caribbean.

The five permanent members of the Security Council—the United States, Russia, China, France, and the United Kingdom—have historically always had a judge on the bench. This isn't written in any statute; it's simply understood. When Britain's candidate failed to win election in 2017 (the Security Council supported him but the General Assembly didn't), it marked a rare exception. India's Dalveer Bhandari took that seat instead.

Judges must be persons of "high moral character" who either qualify for the highest judicial positions in their home countries or are recognized as experts in international law. Once elected, they're supposed to be independent—not representatives of their governments but servants of international justice. The court's rules prohibit judges from holding political or administrative positions, from working as lawyers on the side, or from participating in cases where they have prior involvement.

In practice, these independence requirements have been interpreted loosely. Judges have continued to participate in outside arbitration and hold professional positions, as long as no obvious conflict arises. Some current and former judges have publicly acknowledged that such moonlighting probably should be more restricted.

The only way to remove a judge is by unanimous vote of the other fourteen. This has never happened.

The Court's Peculiar Jurisdiction

Here's the fundamental limitation: the International Court of Justice can only hear cases between nations that consent to its authority. This consent can come in several forms.

Countries can sign special agreements submitting a specific dispute to the court. They can include clauses in treaties saying the court will decide any disagreements arising under that treaty. Or they can make broader declarations accepting the court's compulsory jurisdiction for whole categories of disputes.

But no nation can be dragged before this court unwillingly. If a country refuses to participate, the court can proceed anyway and issue a judgment—but enforcing that judgment becomes even more problematic than usual.

The UN Security Council is technically responsible for enforcing the court's rulings. Chapter XIV of the UN Charter authorizes this. But the Security Council operates by its own political logic, and any of its five permanent members can veto any enforcement action. When Nicaragua won its case against the United States in 1986, the Americans simply vetoed the Security Council resolution that would have enforced the judgment.

This arrangement strikes some observers as absurd—a court whose decisions can be ignored by any major power. Others argue it reflects the reality of international relations: there is no world government, no global police force, and pretending otherwise would be dangerous fantasy. The court's authority rests ultimately on the willingness of nations to submit to it, and on the moral and political costs of defying international law publicly.

Two Kinds of Cases

The court does two distinct things. First, it adjudicates contentious cases—actual disputes between nations seeking a binding resolution. These make up the core of its work. One country sues another, both sides present arguments and evidence, the court deliberates and issues a judgment.

Second, the court provides advisory opinions on legal questions referred to it by the UN General Assembly, the Security Council, or other authorized international bodies. These opinions aren't technically binding on anyone, but they carry enormous weight. When the court says what international law means, that interpretation shapes how nations and other courts understand the rules.

The first contentious case came in May 1947, just a year after the court opened. The United Kingdom brought a complaint against Albania over incidents in the Corfu Channel, a narrow strait between Albania and the Greek island of Corfu. British warships had struck mines in Albanian waters, killing sailors. Albania denied responsibility. The case touched on fundamental questions: Could a nation be held responsible for damage caused by mines in its territorial waters? What rights did ships have to pass through international straits?

The court found Albania responsible for the damage, though the amount of compensation remained disputed for years. More importantly, the case established precedents about innocent passage through international straits that still matter today.

The Nicaragua Case and American Withdrawal

The most dramatic confrontation between the court and a major power came in the 1980s. Nicaragua, then governed by the leftist Sandinista movement, accused the United States of illegally mining its harbors and supporting armed rebels seeking to overthrow its government.

The United States argued that the court lacked jurisdiction. When that argument failed, America boycotted the proceedings entirely. The court heard the case anyway and, in 1986, ruled that the United States had violated international law by using force against Nicaragua and intervening in its internal affairs.

The judgment was sweeping. The court found that the mining of harbors, the attacks on Nicaraguan ports and oil installations, and the support for the Contra rebels all constituted unlawful use of force. The United States owed Nicaragua reparations.

The United States refused to pay. When Nicaragua sought enforcement through the Security Council, America vetoed the resolution. And in the aftermath, the United States withdrew from the court's compulsory jurisdiction entirely. It would no longer accept the court's authority over cases unless it specifically agreed to that particular case.

This was, depending on your perspective, either a principled stand against a biased institution or a great power announcing that international law applied only to the weak.

What Does the Court Actually Accomplish?

Despite its limitations, the International Court of Justice has done significant work over its nearly eighty years. It has resolved border disputes, clarified the rules of the sea, interpreted treaty obligations, and established principles that courts and diplomats worldwide now take for granted.

Its judgments and opinions are treated as authoritative statements of international law. When the court speaks, it doesn't just decide a particular case—it helps define what the law is for everyone. This makes the court something like a global supreme court, though one without the enforcement powers that domestic supreme courts possess.

The court's advisory opinions have addressed some of the most contentious issues in international affairs. Can nuclear weapons ever be lawfully used? What are the legal consequences of building a wall in occupied territory? Do colonial peoples have a right to self-determination? The court's answers to these questions don't force anyone to do anything, but they shape the terms of debate and the moral landscape of international politics.

Climate Cases and the Future

In recent years, small island nations facing rising seas have begun bringing climate-related cases to international tribunals, including requests for advisory opinions from the International Court of Justice. The question these cases pose is profound: Are major polluting nations violating international law by continuing to emit greenhouse gases that threaten the very existence of other countries?

The court hasn't yet fully answered this question, but its engagement suggests the institution remains relevant to the great challenges of our time. If the court were to clearly articulate that greenhouse gas emissions causing serious harm to other nations violate international legal obligations, that finding wouldn't force any country to change its behavior. But it would establish a legal and moral baseline that could influence negotiations, domestic courts, and public opinion worldwide.

The Paradox of International Law

The International Court of Justice embodies a central paradox of the international system. There is no world government, no global sovereign, no ultimate authority that can compel nations to obey rules. And yet there is law—real law, with institutions, procedures, and judges. Nations submit disputes to this court, argue cases according to established procedures, and usually comply with judgments even when they lose.

Why? Partly because reputation matters in international relations. A country that flouts court judgments faces diplomatic costs, damaged relationships, and weakened credibility when it tries to invoke international law in its own favor. Partly because many disputes involve nations that genuinely want a peaceful resolution and need a neutral arbiter to provide one. Partly because law, even unenforceable law, shapes expectations and legitimizes certain actions while delegitimizing others.

The court's power is real, even if it's not the kind of power we usually associate with courts. It cannot send police to arrest violators or marshals to seize property. But it can declare what the law is, and in a world where nations constantly invoke law to justify their actions, that declaratory power matters enormously.

The Peace Palace still stands in The Hague, its towers visible across the Dutch landscape. Inside, fifteen judges from around the world continue the work that began over a century ago—the work of imagining a world where disputes between nations could be settled by argument rather than arms. That world hasn't fully arrived. But the court keeps working toward it, one case at a time.