When rules exist, but fail to stop war
When observing Gaza, Ukraine, or Iran, a question quickly arises: what is the point of international law if strikes continue regardless? The answer is not “nothing.” But it is more difficult. The problem is not only the violation of rules. It is also the weakening of those who should still defend them.
The foundation exists, however. The United Nations Charter mandates respect for state sovereignty, the prohibition of the use of force, and the peaceful settlement of disputes. In theory, everything starts from there. In practice, everything depends on a very political thing: the willingness of states to treat these principles as real constraints, not just useful slogans when they suit them.
It must also be remembered that international law is not only used to regulate wars. It structures diplomacy, treaties, trade, navigation, and communications between states. It is not often visible when everything is functioning smoothly. It becomes glaringly apparent when a conflict blocks a sea route, when humanitarian aid is cut off, or when sanctions disrupt entire economies. In these cases, the first ones affected are not the diplomatic offices. They are civilians, NGOs, small businesses, and countries without the military strength to enforce their version of events.
The law does not disappear. It faces execution
To say that international law is powerless because it is violated is too hasty. The system still produces decisions. On March 16, 2022, the International Court of Justice ordered Russia to immediately suspend its military operations in Ukraine. On July 19, 2024, the same Court ruled that Israel’s continued presence in the occupied Palestinian territory was illegal under international law. Therefore, the law still exists. It speaks. It judges. It qualifies.
The real challenge comes after. Who enforces it? Who applies pressure? Who bears the political cost of a clear condemnation? At the Security Council on June 4, 2025, a draft resolution calling for a permanent ceasefire in Gaza failed after a U.S. veto. A few months earlier, on March 18, 2025, UN humanitarian officials warned that the resumption of hostilities and the blockage of aid were destroying the meager gains made during the ceasefire. In the case of Ukraine, on February 24, 2025, the General Assembly reaffirmed the sovereignty and territorial integrity of the country within its recognized borders. The normative framework still stands. But its impact depends on the political follow-up it receives.
In other words, international law does not die suddenly. It wears away when states cease to invoke, defend, and translate it into sanctions, diplomatic isolation, or concrete measures. A text that remains in the archives does not deter anyone. A rule that is no longer invoked becomes one less reference point for weaker states, judges, mediators, and humanitarian workers.
Who benefits when security prevails over the rule?
The most powerful discourse today often boils down to a simple formula: national security comes first, or at least it takes precedence over legal considerations. This reasoning primarily benefits states with military power and strong political allies. It allows them to act quickly, justify urgency, and shift the discussion away from legal grounds. It also benefits their allies, who sometimes prefer a tactical victory over a long and embarrassing legal battle.
But this choice has an immediate counterpart. It weakens states that cannot retaliate alone. It reduces the protection for civilians. It makes the position of diplomats who are still trying to build coalitions around a common rule more fragile. And it muddles the message sent to violators: if aggression, blockades, or annexations end up being treated as fait accompli, then the rule does not vanish, it becomes selective.
On the contrary, staunchly defending international law primarily serves the most vulnerable countries. Small states need a framework that limits the use of force. NGOs need rules to protect humanitarian access. Civilian populations need safeguards when war looms. That is why the UN Charter emphasizes peaceful dispute resolution and the prohibition of the threat or use of force. Without this common minimum, everyone reverts to their ability to cause harm.
The realists, however, have a valid argument: law alone does not disarm an army or open a humanitarian corridor. They are right. A rule without political cost or enforcement mechanism remains fragile. But this limit does not justify abandonment. It simply underscores the need for institutions to embody the law, governments to uphold it, and partners to be willing to expose themselves to keep it alive.
The silence of states weighs heavier than violations
The real tipping point is reached when a violation is no longer called a violation. When a bombing, military operation, or blockade is not described as a breach of the rule but merely a strategic option, the landscape changes. Vocabulary matters. Saying that an action is “outside the law” does not carry the same weight as saying it violates it. In one case, a gray area is maintained. In the other, it is reminded that there is still a norm, hence a responsibility.
It is here that silence becomes more dangerous than the transgression itself. A violated but denounced rule remains a rule. A violated rule, excused and then forgotten, begins to lose its force. This holds true for war and for humanitarian aid, occupation, annexation prohibition, and refusal to aggress another state.
Therefore, the system remains alive but vulnerable. It relies on a minimal belief: states still agree to act as if the law matters, even when it inconveniences them. If this belief erodes, international law does not collapse overnight. It fades gradually. And in this kind of erosion, the first harm is not to grand speeches. It is to those who have no control over force but bear all its consequences.
What to watch for in the coming weeks
The next test will play out first in New York and The Hague. At the Security Council and the General Assembly, each new text on Gaza or Ukraine will indicate whether states still want to pay the price of a clear legal stance. Before the International Court of Justice, ongoing procedures will also continue to serve as a benchmark: not because they stop a war, but because they establish what the law accepts or rejects tolerating.
The real question is simple. Will the major powers continue to treat these decisions as constraints, or only as diplomatic accessories? The answer to this will determine the future. Not just the credibility of institutions. The practical survival of international law itself.
