International Law: A Shield for the Powerful or a Rule for All?

A compelling exchange once took place between Shami Chakrabarti, former president of the UK-based human rights organisation Liberty, and the eminent jurist Lord Thomas Bingham following his lecture on 'The Rule of Law'. Lord Bingham, a staunch defender of the principle, asserted that international law is, indeed, 'law'. Yet, as recent global events starkly demonstrate to us, for many the concept is a façade—a set of rules selectively applied and easily discarded by the powerful. This raises a critical question: in a world witnessing devastating conflicts such as the military operations in Gaza, and the recent strikes against Iran by Israel and the United Staes, is international law a universal principle, or an instrument of power?

The situation in Gaza presents a profound challenge to the core tenets of jus in bello, or international humanitarian law. Proponents of Israel's initial military actions ground their arguments in the right to self-defence under Article 51 of the UN Charter. The principles of distinction (civilian vs combatant), proportionality, and precaution, enshrined in the Geneva Conventions and their Additional Protocols, are not discretionary. The decimation of Gaza's hospitals, the use of starvation as a weapon of war through the prevention of humanitarian aid, and direct attacks on women, children, and aid workers are not mere collateral damage, but potential grave breaches of international law.

Many legal experts and international bodies argue that the sheer scale of civilian casualties and infrastructure destruction goes far beyond military necessity, constituting collective punishment—a practice explicitly forbidden by the Fourth Geneva Convention. When UN agencies like UNRWA, the largest aid provider, are systematically dismantled, it signals a strategy that weaponises aid and directly contravenes the obligation of an occupying power to ensure the welfare of the occupied population.

This perceived hypocrisy is fuelled by the critique advanced by Third World approaches to international law (TWAIL), which posits that international law is not failing, but rather functioning as it was designed: as a system conceived by colonial powers to perpetuate a particular world order.

Simultaneously, the recent military strikes against Iran by both Israel and the United States test the boundaries of jus ad bellum, the law governing the resort to force. The justification of pre-emptive or anticipatory self-defence against a future, non-imminent threat is not recognised by many states and scholars in international law. Even if it were not a controversial doctrine, for such an action to be lawful, the threat must be instant, overwhelming, leave no choice of means, and allow no moment for deliberation. Critics argue that these strikes fail to meet this stringent Caroline test, a standard rooted in customary international law. They contend that without clear evidence of an imminent attack—a high bar that many scholars believe has not been met—these actions represent a dangerous expansion of pre-emptive action that threatens to normalise unilateral military force. This fundamentally undermines Article 2(4) of the UN Charter, which prohibits the threat or use of force against the territorial integrity or political independence of any state. When a permanent member of the Security Council like the US engages in such actions without Council authorisation, it corrodes the very system it is mandated to uphold.

This perceived hypocrisy is fuelled by the critique advanced by Third World approaches to international law (TWAIL), which posits that international law is not failing, but rather functioning as it was designed: as a system conceived by colonial powers to perpetuate a particular world order. From this perspective, the selective application of legal principles is a feature, not a bug. The swift mobilisation of international mechanisms to address conflicts in Ukraine or East Timor stands in stark contrast to the decades long paralysis concerning Palestine. Legal definitions that seem clear, such as what constitutes an 'occupation' under Article 42 of the 1907 Hague Regulations, become mired in semantic debate, and actions deemed illegal by the Security Council, such as the expansion of settlements under Resolution 2334, continue with impunity. This dissonance leads to the conclusion that the legal framework itself is a tool wielded by the powerful to legitimise their violence and perpetuate dominance.

In the face of systemic failure and institutional inaction, the oppressed are left with a bitter question: what recourse remains when the law itself becomes an instrument of their subjugation? Western discourse routinely ignores UN General Assembly Resolution 37/43, which affirms the Palestinian people's 'inalienable right' to 'self-determination, national sovereignty, and return'. This is not rhetoric or incitement, but an accurate legal recognition— when the international order fails to uphold its own principles, resistance becomes a sanctioned response to oppression. The struggle, therefore, is not merely for the enforcement of existing law, but a struggle against a rigged legal order that appears to have forsaken its promise of universal justice.

The writer is Assistant Professor and Chair in the Department of Law at Z.H. Sikder University of Science and Technology.