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| Hodine Williams |
And yet, when the moment comes, when the stakes are high, when blood is spilled or borders are crossed or civilians are reduced to collateral language with nothing but a fleeting thought, the question hangs in the air like an unfinished monologue: Is this really law, or just a suggestion?
Because here is the plot twist no one wants to acknowledge. Law, real law, is not defined by how beautifully it is written or how many countries sign onto it. At its core, law is defined by what happens when it is broken. Law has consequences. Law has teeth. Law does not politely ask whether compliance is convenient today. And this is where international law starts to unravel under the spotlight.
International law exists in a world where the most powerful actors also serve as the final gatekeepers of enforcement. The same states that drafted the rules polarize it and are often the ones with veto power over whether those rules will ever be applied to themselves or to their allies. In the United Nations Security Council, five permanent members sit at the centre of the global stage with a single raised hand capable of stopping accountability cold.
One veto can silence outrage. One veto can halt investigations. One veto can ensure that no sanctions, no force, no meaningful response ever materializes. If this were a television drama, we would call it “a conflict of interest.” In international law, we call it structure.
And structures matter. Because enforcement under international law is not automatic. It is political. It is selective. It is negotiated behind closed doors while press releases talk about shared values and grave concern. Countries do not all stand equal before the law; they stand in tiers. Some are disciplined. Some are condemned. Some are sanctioned into economic ruin. And some, some simply do what they please and dare the rest of the world to stop them. It’s George Orwell’s Animal Farm all over — all animals are created equal, but some are more equal than others, right?
This is where the illusion becomes impossible to ignore. States invoke international law when it suits them, quoting provisions like scripture when it strengthens their position. They wave the flag of sovereignty when they want protection and abandon it when they want intervention. They demand accountability from others while exempting themselves with procedural shields, jurisdictional loopholes or political paralysis. The rules are not thrown out entirely; they are placed on a shelf and taken down selectively, like a prop reused only when the scene calls for it.
So, what then is the purpose of international law in a world where enforcement is optional for the powerful and mandatory for the weak? If consequences are uneven, if accountability depends on geopolitical alignment rather than conduct, can we still call it law? Or is it something closer to aspiration, an ethical framework masquerading as a legal system? The recent events on the global stage have surely shown us that the old rules-based order had always been a sham. The rules don’t work, they just make you worse (well, depending on who you are).
Supporters of international law will say it was never meant to function like domestic law. They will argue that it shapes behaviour over time, that it creates norms, that it constrains excess even when it cannot punish it outright. They will say that without it, the world would descend into unchecked chaos.
And no doubt, there is truth in that. International law has helped codify human rights, regulate warfare, protect refugees and establish expectations where none previously existed. It has provided language for resistance, tools for advocacy and a moral record that history can later judge.
But let us not confuse influence with enforcement. Norms without consequences are fragile. Principles without accountability are easily ignored. A legal system that cannot consistently respond to its own violations risks becoming performative — grand speeches, urgent resolutions and no real change on the ground. When international law fails to act precisely when it matters most, it teaches a dangerous lesson: that power, not principle, is the ultimate arbiter.
And perhaps this is the hardest truth to sit with. International law may not be failing accidentally. It may be functioning exactly as designed — strong enough to regulate the powerless, flexible enough to protect the powerful and ambiguous enough to preserve the illusion of fairness. It offers legitimacy without compulsion, order without equality and justice with a long list of exceptions. Perhaps that is exactly it!
So, is international law really law? Or is it a carefully written script in which some actors are never meant to lose? Maybe the better question is not whether international law exists, but for whom it exists. If law only binds those without vetoes, without armies, without economic leverage, then it ceases to be law in any meaningful sense. It becomes theatre, and in recent times, we have been well entertained with immense shock value. And everyone else — the international community, the observers, the concerned states — sit in the audience, watching, applauding at the right moments, knowing full well how the episode will end.
Until enforcement is no longer optional. Until accountability is not filtered through power. Until the rules apply even when it is inconvenient.
International law will continue to speak loudly and act softly. And the world will keep asking, again and again, whether this is justice … or just good dialogue.
Hodine Williams has over 20 years of experience in law, corporate governance and regulatory compliance across the legal, financial, hospitality and engineering sectors. A former prosecutor and expert in digital forensics, financial crimes and cyber law, he has advised corporations in Jamaica, Canada and the United Kingdom. Holding a master of laws in international business law from Osgoode Hall Law School, along with degrees in management and economics and law, Williams is also an educator, philanthropist and advocate for youth development and racialized communities. You can reach him at hodine.williams@gmail.com.
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