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Al-Ahram Weekly 29 June - 5 July 2000 Issue No. 488 
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Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Al-Ahram Weekly 29 June - 5 July 2000 Issue No. 488
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| Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Egypt Region International Economy Opinion Culture Features Travel Living Sports Profile People Time Out Chronicles Cartoons Letters The rogue state
By Nyier Abdou
There was a great deal of backslapping and congratulations among United Nations delegates in Rome two years ago when a treaty long seen as overdue was finally established for the creation of an International Criminal Court (ICC) on 17 July 1998. UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan called the decision a "giant step forward in the march towards universal human rights and the rule of law," and British Foreign Secretary Robin Cook called it a "historic step," adding how delighted he was that the United Kingdom had played a "leading role" in the achievement.
But not every party state was waxing rapturous about the landmark resolution, most notably the United States, which was among the seven nations who voted against the statute. An overwhelming 120 nations voted in favour of the statute and 21 nations abstained, many because at the time their constitutions did not allow it. The vote paved the way for a permanent international court for trying war crimes along the lines of the so-called ad hoc tribunals set up for the Former Yugoslavia and Rwanda. The ICC, slated for a 2003 opening, will be based in The Hague, Netherlands -- quickly becoming a bastion of international justice.
An international war crimes court has been on the books as far back as 1948, when the post-World War II Nuremberg and Tokyo trials underscored the need for such a permanent body. Today, the ICC has gained significant momentum, with all European Union and NATO members supporting the existing statute and 13 ratifications complete. The statute needs 60 nations to ratify it before it officially comes into force, but the ICC effort gained a significant boost when earlier this month France became the first permanent member of the UN Security Council to ratify the statute. It is expected that France's move will inspire other European heavyweights, like Germany and the UK, to do the same. To date, 97 states from every notch on the human rights spectrum have signed the ICC charter -- the first step to ratification -- countries as different as Chile and Sierra Leone. The treaty is open for signature until 31 December.
This month, as delegates from 110 countries convene at the UN headquarters in New York for the three-week-long Fifth Preparatory Commission Meeting for the ICC, the commission will be honing down crucial definitions and rules of procedure for the court, but the US remains a critical thorn in the monumental undertaking. Against almost unanimous resistance, it continues its campaign to alter the court's charter. Two weeks ago, Republican Congressmen further complicated US reconciliatory efforts with legislation requiring that US personnel be granted immunity before sending any troops on peacekeeping missions and nullifying military assistance to countries that have ratified the ICC treaty. If passed, the bill would radically alter US relations with some of its most crucial allies and, assuming the ICC is established, would isolate the US from an endeavour that appears to champion many of issues the US has most ardently fought for.
The US has prided itself on being a staunch supporter of human rights and has often led the call for the apprehension and trial of war criminals like former Khmer Rouge leader Pol Pot, who died in self-imposed isolation without ever standing trial. The US State Department has also said it would award up to $5 million for information proffering the capture of Yugoslav President Slobodan Milosevic and other Bosnian Serb leaders indicted by the UN tribunal for the Balkans.
The US is fighting a losing battle. David Scheffer, the State Department's ambassador at large for war crimes, is heading a last-ditch effort at the UN commission meeting, but his hands are tied by the blunt fact that the ICC will proceed with or without the US. Recognising that it is about to be left behind by a momentous international collaboration, the US has tried everything to include itself in the affair without compromising its insistence on what amounts to a blanket exemption for the American military. Scheffer has even gone as far as to offer financial and diplomatic support, even though Congress has made it clear that it will never ratify the ICC. But other signatories, among them US allies Canada and Australia, have balked at the US's thinly-veiled reintroduction of its original amendment, as they did in Rome two years ago.
Knowing that the absence of the US on board will ultimately handicap the court's powers, the ICC relented and added a provision for functioning national courts to try their own nationals. But the US still has cold feet. According to the UN's fact sheet, the ICC holds all persons accountable for alleged war crimes, including genocide, sexual crimes and crimes against humanity, "whether he or she is a Head of State or government, a member of a government or parliament, an elected representative or a government official."
The US has broadly rejected the ICC charter on the basis that it violates international law, but this reading has been received with only a modicum of credibility. The US has flatly stated that it fears that the establishment of the ICC will open the door for now infamous "rogue states" -- a concept constructed by US policy-makers to justify elevated paranoia and egregious breaches of international weapons treaties -- to launch vendetta lynchings. Scheffer has made clear that the main concern of the US is immunity for US troops, which is not a small consideration given the number of US peace-keeping troops stationed in volatile areas. In a recent interview with The Washington Post, Scheffer again stated that "It is critical that the United States armed forces not be subject to physical surrender." Republican Senator Jesse Helms, who chairs the Senate Foreign Relations Committee that provides the go-ahead for ratifying treaties, put it in no uncertain terms: "So long as there is breath in me, the US will never -- I repeat, never -- allow its national security decisions to be judged by an International Criminal Court."
But the US proposal flies in the face of the precedent set by the Nuremberg trials, which established that no government is above the long arm of international law. The issue bears heavily on modern concerns, most recently with the case of former Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet. The US proposal says that the court should not have jurisdiction over non-party states unless the country gives its consent or the Security Council approves the trial. But the US has veto power in the Security Council and could thus obstruct the trial of any US citizen.
The US refusal to accept the tenets set up by the Rome statute eerily echoes parallel moves that have established the world's last superpower as a nation that likes to have its cake and eat it too. The US has refused to sign a nuclear-weapons test ban and its recent efforts to alter the 1972 Anti-Ballistic Missile (ABM) treaty in order to make room for its controversial National Missile Defense (NMD) system has ruffled more than Russia's feathers. The US has argued that the estimated $60 billion project, dubbed "son of Star Wars," is necessary in order to counter threats by so-called rogue states like Iraq, Iran and North Korea. In fact, the US has consistently argued a case not dissimilar to that of the very governments it claims to be its antithesis.
In disputing the Rome statute, the US had some unlikely allies in China, constantly under fire for human rights abuses, and Libya. Among other states that voted against the statute were Israel -- who objected to the definition of war crimes including the transferring of populations into an occupied territory -- and Iraq.
