INTRODUCTION
2016 and early 2017 was what could, and arguably should, have been the dawning of a watershed period in the relationship between the International Criminal Court (ICC or the Court) and Africa. During this period, the strained relationship between the ICC and Africa, initiated in 2009 with the Court's decision to issue an arrest warrant for Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir, reached its highest points of tension when South Africa, Burundi and Gambia announced, in unprecedented moves, that they would each withdraw from the Court, and the African Union (AU) signalled regional dissatisfaction by adopting an ‘ICC withdrawal strategy’.
This period in the relationship should be taken very seriously by ICC supporters, even though the immediate negative consequences of the strain may be less grave for the Court than initially feared. The African continent has a unique and significant relationship with the Court as African states were early supporters of the ICC and all of the cases before the Court in its nascent years have been from the African continent. Troubled relations between the Court and Africa challenge the Court's legitimacy as an arbiter of international justice. The Court is both a working international institution capable of prosecuting some of the worst atrocities committed by individuals against their fellow human beings, and arguably an important symbol of international consensus on the denial of impunity for individuals who commit such crimes. The global symbolic value of the Court exists, some argue, despite the fact that not all states are members (Gegout Reference Gegout2013; Moffett Reference Moffett2014: 282–6; Jacobs Reference Jacobs2016). In fact, as the ICC matures as an institution, and problems that might have been dismissed as the growing pains of a new institution persist (very few trials in its first years, for example), supporters of the Court are pointing more and more to its symbolic significance (Kersten Reference Kersten2016b). The symbolic nature of the Court and its work is, in some ways, becoming its raison d’être and global power – signalling an international norm promoting, at least in theory, universal denial of impunity for atrocity crimes. Therefore, the power of the Court – grounded both in international political support and the perception that it transcends international and national politics to deny impunity for crimes that illustrate a specific kind of evil (Vernon Reference Vernon2002) – is challenged by the changing relationship it has with some African states, and the growing feeling that it is, as expressed by the Sudanese representative to the United Nations more than a decade ago, ‘a tool for those who believe that they have a monopoly on virtues in this world, rife with injustice and tyranny’ (United Nations 2005: 12).
This article considers challenges facing the legitimacy (normative and perceived) of the ICC in light of recent complaints from and withdrawal (and subsequent reversal of withdrawal) of some African states over the Court's denial of head-of-state immunity, and it explores how the relationship between the ICC and Africa within a global system of unequal state actors is both representative of a systemic problem that deserves attention and also an opportunity for a group of traditionally less-powerful states to collect allies in a cause to challenge the Court's operations. The true reach and the symbolic value of the Court as an instrument of objective denial of impunity globally is threatened significantly as African states, which once were the Court's early and eager backers, level charges of Western imperialism and withdraw their support. African states, then, together as a regional voice on the ICC, have a uniquely powerful role in supporting or weakening the legitimacy of the Court, and therefore a uniquely powerful position to influence other global actors who want to maintain the existence and legitimacy of the Court.
Immunity for heads of states from prosecution in foreign domestic courts exists in two forms (personal – immunity ratione personae, and functional – immunity ratione materiae),Footnote 1 is a matter of customary international law and treaty law, and is contentious when the crimes of which a head of state is accused are international crimes (Akande & Shah Reference Akande and Shah2011; Wardle Reference Wardle2011; Akande Reference Akande2012; Iverson Reference Iverson2012). Immunity of this sort is important for the functioning of effective and peaceful international politics that requires the travel and meeting of state leaders, and is tied to the notion of independence and equality of states under international law. Immunity from prosecution in domestic foreign courts allows for ‘the peaceful conduct of international relations between senior government officials and to avoid spurious allegations driven more by politics than facts’ (Murphy Reference Murphy2014: 47). In the Arrest Warrant case, the International Court of Justice upheld personal immunity – the customary law that serves to shield a small number of state officials from the jurisdiction of foreign domestic courts for the duration of their holding their position – even for atrocity crimes, stating that ‘it has been unable to deduce … that there exists under customary international law any form of exception to the rule according immunity from criminal jurisdiction and inviolability to incumbent Ministers for Foreign Affairs, where they are suspected of having committed war crimes or crimes against humanity’ (ICJ 2002: para 58). However ‘most immunities to which such officials are entitled under international law have been set aside in the statutes establishing the international courts’, arguably because a state can waive immunity if it so chooses (Foakes Reference Foakes2011). It is argued by some that immunity for international crimes such as genocide and crimes against humanity is not possible and ‘the characterization of certain crimes as jus cogens places upon states the obligatio erga omnes not to grant impunity to the violators of such crimes’ (Bassioni Reference Bassioni1996). Denying immunity to heads of states, however, seems to also require other states to detain and arrest indicted foreign heads of states who visit, erecting obstacles to effective and peaceful interstate relationships. As a matter of law and of morality, immunity before the ICC is a contentious issue, a balancing of a need to avoid impunity for atrocity crimes on the one hand and the maintenance of rules that promote peaceful international relations on the other.
While an African call for head-of-state immunity can be seen to originate from a valid concern over international relations, global power imbalances, and the unequal burden of upholding international criminal justice as administered through the ICC, threats to withdraw based on this issue fail to take advantage of what could be an opportunity presented to African states to highlight the ways in which unequal power before the Court and within the global referral system further hampers the most vulnerable states and reinforces global hierarchies in an institution that is meant to eschew them. African leaders are in a significant moral and practical position to help steer ICC and global governance policy as major stakeholders in this institution and they have the opportunity to stay the withering of an institution that was intended to deny impunity for horrific crimes, an institution that they once enthusiastically supported. To date, those African leaders who have chosen to publicly criticise the Court have, at best, expressed dissatisfaction and at worst, compounded genuine problems by introducing solutions that would contribute to injustice and impunity. Rather, this article argues, the current climate of international criminal law (ICL) offers African states an opening to play a more significant and normative role. The dialectic of legitimacy offers an opportunity to African leaders to make a positive contribution to the progress of ICL. They can choose to disrupt the Court by weakening the legitimacy it gets from a combination of state support (international democratic authority) and its role as a human rights protecting institution by following the path of arguing for head-of-state immunity for atrocity crimes, or they can choose to raise a broader moral argument, universal in scope, one with which it would be in the best interest of all politically weak states to engage.
THE ICC, THE WORLD AND AFRICA
For some, the ICC, the most recent iteration of the international institutionalisation of ICL, is considered to be a bright light in the global fight to end impunity for perpetrators of pervasive and purposeful mass political violence, atrocities that ‘shock the conscience of humanity’ (Rome Statute 2002). To others, it represents the deeply flawed and unequal international political system and modern imperialism, a tool of superiority and imposition. The relationship between the Court and many African countries epitomises this ambivalence and mixture of opposing hopes and fears for the Court's promise to bring justice to a continent, and a world, fraught with atrocity and impunity. After 15 years of existence, the Court faces some real challenges regarding its ability to administer objective justice with its foundation solidly established and constrained by an unequal global system.
While the Court is playing an increasingly significant role in global politics and issues of global security, the international system is still one ruled by states, and the Court occupies an uneasy role both grounded in this system and at the same time aimed at pushing back against it. The Rome Statute was negotiated by states;Footnote 2 therefore, the ICC is an institution created out of, and reflective of, an international system in which there is unequal power, with some states exerting far more influence than others to shape international norms and behaviour to their favour. The Court's aim is, in some ways, to undermine this unequal power and the unique political privilege of powerful states over others that are less so, and of state leaders over their citizens. It occupies a unique space in which it was founded and is supported by states, states willingly giving up some of their own sovereignty to place themselves under its jurisdiction.
Unlike the United Nations, which was created when African states were still under colonial rule, the ICC was created at the turn of the 21st century, when African states could fully participate in the negotiations of the scope and activities of the institution. With the aim that it would be objective and independent from politics and state interests, and despite what some powerful states desired – namely that it not ‘encroach upon their historic prerogatives’, the Court was created as an entity separate from the UN and independent of Security Council (UNSC) oversight (Schabas Reference Schabas2016: 23). Unlike the USA, which wanted to see ultimate control over the Court lie with the UNSC (of which the USA is a permanent member) (Schabas Reference Schabas2004), many African states were early and continuous supporters of an independent Court, recognising the need for such an institution to address grave abuses domestically and with hopes that the international institution would propel support for human rights globally and combat impunity (Mills Reference Mills2012: 405). Indeed, African states were some of the first to support the Court. In February 1999, Senegal was the first state to ratify the Rome Statute, and 17 African states were among the first 60 to ratify it, ‘thus contributing to the achievement of the threshold necessary for the statute to become effective’ (Procopio Reference Procopio2017). Today, more than two-thirds of the members of the AU are ICC member-states. African states were also the first to engage the Court, with Uganda, the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), and the Central African Republic (CAR) all referring crimes committed within their own borders.
Most of the situations that have been investigated by the ICC were self-referrals, demonstrating to some ‘how the Court was deemed, by Africans themselves, a legitimate tool of justice’ (Procopio Reference Procopio2017). It is important, however, not to forget that these self-referrals were made by state leaders and make no pronouncement on the views of citizens or members of specifically affected communities. It is important not to minimise the possibility, in fact the likelihood, that the Court has been viewed as a political tool by some of the leaders of these states. As I and a colleague have argued elsewhere, while in theory self-referrals can do much to bolster the legitimacy of the Court, each self-referral to date has, in its own way, negatively impacted the Court's legitimacy (Fisher & Stefan Reference Fisher and Stefan2016). Nevertheless, in the first 15 years of its existence, the only cases to come before the Court were from the African continent. Furthermore, all but two of the resulting investigations have arisen from requests or grants of authority by governments of the very countries in which the crimes were committed: CAR, Côte d'Ivoire, DRC, Kenya, Mali and Uganda. The UNSC referred the others: Darfur and Libya.Footnote 3
Despite continued support from the continent, the ICC faced growing backlash from some African leaders, both for the Court's seemingly narrow focus on African countries and for the charges laid against sitting heads of state, such as Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir in 2009, and Kenyans Uhuru Kenyatta and William Ruto in 2011.Footnote 4 At the highest point of tension, South Africa, Burundi and Gambia announced in 2016 their separate intentions to withdraw from the Court, and at its annual heads of state summit in Addis Ababa in 2017 the AU adopted a non-binding ‘ICC withdrawal strategy’ (BBC 2017).
These moves, however, while potentially devastating to the Court, had relatively minor immediate real effect. Actual withdrawal from the Court comes one year after a state formally notifies the ICC of its intention. Since its notification, South Africa's High Court has judged the government's decision to withdraw from the ICC unconstitutional and, in March 2017, the state formally withdrew its notification of withdrawal. Gambia also reversed its decision to withdraw; newly elected President Adama Barrow reversed the decision to withdraw made by former President Yahya Jammeh, who himself was ‘accused of leading a government that tortured and killed opponents during his more than 22 years in power’ (Dakar Reference Dakar2017). Only Burundi pushed forward with its intention to withdraw; despite open ICC preliminary examinations, in October 2017 Burundi was the first state to officially withdraw from the Court (Janssens Reference Janssens2017). The implementation of the AU ‘ICC withdrawal strategy’, a push for a collective withdrawal by a large group of African states if African heads of state are not granted immunity for as long as they remain in office, could be catastrophic for the Court. However, the strategy only calls for African states to consider how to implement the decision and does not bind them to it (BBC 2017). As Canadian journalist Geoffrey York reasonably surmised, the strategy, with its ‘vague and unclear’ rhetoric, is not likely to succeed as a mass withdrawal, but ‘it's the latest noisy shot across the bow of the court, escalating the political pressure against it’ (York Reference York2017).
The current relationship between the continent and the ICC is fraught with concern, uncertainty and suspicion. The ICC's legitimacy – which was seemingly positively underpinned by early African support and cases – has been negatively affected as scepticism grows. The AU led a call for deferral of ICC proceedings in the al-Bashir case (Oette Reference Oette2010) and subsequently, as mentioned, has voted for a mass withdrawal from the ICC when its original concerns and proposed solution were not heeded. Negative local attitudes towards the Court in Kenya might have been instrumental in the popular vote that brought to power ICC indictees Kenyatta and Ruto in 2013 (Wamai Reference Wamai2013), and months after Kenyatta and Ruto assumed office, the Kenyan Parliament voted to withdraw from the ICC and a bill is currently pending in parliament seeking to repeal the Rome Statute's implementation statute, the International Crimes Act. Ugandan President Yoweri Museveni, despite his invitation to the Court in 2004 to investigate crimes committed in Uganda, has subsequently had a complicated relationship with the Court, both siding with it (Musisi Reference Musisi2015) and disparaging it, calling for African states to withdraw, and accusing the ICC of being a tool of Western states targeting African nations (Walubiri & Lumu Reference Walubiri and Lumu2014). It is also presently unclear what South Africa's intentions are toward the Court since its abandonment of its notice to withdraw in response to its High Court's ruling (Goldstone & Kersten Reference Goldstone and Kersten2018). However, the positions of African states regarding the ICC represent stark divisions. While there are those pushing for withdrawal, a counter-balance group of African states has voiced support for the Court and its work (CICC 2017). The ICC is now at a point in both its development and its relationship with Africa where forthcoming decisions and events could either support positive movement forward or result in the demise of the Court and the global justice it promised.Footnote 5
LEGITIMACY AND THE FOUNDATIONS OF INTERNATIONAL CRIMINAL LAW
Legitimacy refers to both the normative claim that the moral and legal foundation of the system is just (normative legitimacy), and the perception that the system is legitimate – the popular acceptance of a governing system (perceived legitimacy). These two aspects of legitimacy are intertwined. This is the dialectic of legitimacy: the fact that the perceived legitimacy and the normative legitimacy of the institution are dependent on each other and that each aspect can only be understood by examining it in relation to the other. Legitimacy is based not only on the legal system's accordance with particular just foundations and principles, but also on the perception of legitimacy by both the international and the local populations (Fisher Reference Fisher2012; Kiyani Reference Kiyani2015a). Perceived legitimacy is not ‘whether or not a particular criminal justice approach can be justified as legitimate on a theoretical level [but] … whether or not various local and international communities are likely, as a practical matter, to “buy in” to the approach and treat the activities of the institutions involved as legitimate’ (Dickenson Reference Dickenson2003: 301). ICL, in particular, operates according to this dialectic, with perception feeding normative legitimacy and vice versa.
Perception can feed normative legitimacy in a number of ways but is especially powerful when an institution's moral foundation is at least partly grounded in democratic authority, as is the ICC with states ceding some of their sovereign authority by ratifying the Rome Statute. This is problematic for an institution like the ICC which combines democratic normative legitimacy with power derived from an international system that lacks democratic legitimacy and that privileges the interests of some actors over others, especially when the UNSC is involved. This is particularly the case with articles 13(b) and 16 of the Rome Statute, which allow the UNSC to refer cases that would not otherwise be within the jurisdiction of the Court or to defer an ICC investigation or prosecution for a renewable period of 12 months. Thus, the Court is viewed by some as simply another expression of a profoundly undemocratic – and therefore illegitimate – international order and an instrument for power politics (Morris Reference Morris2002; Fichtelberg Reference Fichtelberg2006; Gegout Reference Gegout2013; Clarke & Koulen Reference Clarke and Koulen2014).
As du Pleissis et al. (Reference Du Pleissis, Maluwa and O'Reilly2013) claim, ‘there is a genuine problem, which has to do with perception and the need for the ICC to be seen to be acting in a just manner in order to maintain its authority’. That a criminal justice system is deemed legitimate by those under its jurisdiction is imperative to its purposes of being expressively significant and normatively legitimate (Fisher Reference Fisher2012: 121–44).Footnote 6 The growing concern in recent years among some of the Court's earliest and strongest supporters, that it is partial and an instrument of the world's powerful actors, can have dire affects on the legitimacy of the Court, whether the charges are supported by empirical evidence or not. The perception erodes the Court's normative legitimacy as early proponents, acting on and promoting this perception, begin to push away and retract their support.
Historically, criticisms of ICL are typically based on two sets of questions. The first concerns authority and deals with the legal and moral basis for the judicial institution's existence and to prosecute those it deems in violation of promulgated criminal law. The second is comprised of questions regarding the objectivity and justness of the legal structure as a legitimate system of law. The two are connected, especially in regards to how normative legitimacy is affected by questions of objectivity and concerns of Western imperialism and the unjust, unequal application of ICL globally, increasingly voiced by some of those interested in the relationship between the ICC and the African continent.
ICL has, over its short existence, faced numerous challenges to its legitimate existence and its ability to pursue ‘justice’ in a just and objective manner. Today, challenges that were once touted as being the result of growing pains are less convincingly dismissed as the enterprise of ICL is increasingly regarded as a political tool and an instrument of the world's more powerful states. Despite having received growing recognition as a system of law that exists under positive authority, ICL is the subject of many debates that question its compatibility with pursuits of peace in situations of ongoing conflict, and its ability to complement national pursuits of justice (Baines Reference Baines2005; Hovil & Lomo Reference Hovil and Lomo2005; Allen Reference Allen2006; Kersten Reference Kersten2016a). However, while the peace versus justice debate continues, the issues of most pressing concern to some vocal African leaders, as mentioned in the preceding section, are the Court's narrow focus on Africa and its refusal to listen to concerns regarding head-of-state immunity, which arguably ties to the region's ability to conduct international politics.
The ICC will be challenged and might have difficulty recovering if widespread distrust were to take root, especially if it were geographically concentrated in Africa. Such distrust is blossoming but not yet overwhelmingly widespread in Africa; attention must be paid to resolving concerns, for both moral and practical reasons. This attention is important both because some concerns are appropriate – such as the international imbalance of power over the Court (Clarke & Koulen Reference Clarke and Koulen2014; Fisher Reference Fisher, Fisher and Stewart2014; Fisher & Stefan Forthcoming) – and because even warranted dismissal of growing dissatisfaction of the Court in Africa, if it is done in a disrespectful manner, leads to political and moral challenges to the Court's foundation. Even when criticisms are overstated, the perception that the Court ought to be criticised and/or that criticisms are not taken seriously is itself problematic. There is an important balance to be achieved between objective justice that does not bend to the powerful (either powerful states within the international system or powerful individuals within a single state) and respecting the political and practical realities that make up the system upon which international relations and the Court itself rely.
Historically, ICL has had a hard time achieving a good balance and has come under significant and persistent attack for privileging some international actors over others – specifically, more powerful international actors (Benvenuti Reference Benvenuti2001; Chesterman Reference Chesterman2001: 121; Pal Reference Paln.d.). The ICC, a fundamentally different court from earlier ICL institutions, faces the same criticism as its predecessors, that of politics in an unjust global system. Despite purporting to operate outside the political realm (Neuwen & Werner Reference Neuwen and Werner2010), because it relies on states as principal actors, the Court is restricted to reflecting the interests and politics of states and their leaders. Especially problematic seems to be its special relationship with the UNSC, becoming increasingly scrutinised as the latter initiates, or fails to initiate, investigations into situations in which crimes defined in the Rome Statute appear to have been committed that could not otherwise be opened by the Court.
In theory, the Court intervenes where a state is unable or unwilling to address genocide, crimes against humanity, or war crimes, but can only do so in the case of states that have accepted the Court's jurisdiction – unless the Court is referred the matter by the UNSC. The treaty-based foundation of the Court provides both a morally strong and morally weak foundation. It is stronger than preceding international criminal institutions as there is no concern over the Court applying ex post facto (retroactive) law, nor is there question of legitimate authority to intervene in a realm usually shielded by state sovereignty in member states. These states have willingly ceded some sovereign authority to this institution. The moral foundation of the Court is, however, weak in the sense that it is shaped by an unequal global structure and, arguably, continues to perpetuate global inequalities in the interests of powerful states. This is particularly evident when we look at the relationship between the ICC and the UNSC.
If the UNSC refers a situation to the ICC for investigation, the membership status of the state is extraneous and such a case is theoretically open to the same criticisms levelled at the international tribunals. Furthermore, the UNSC is then in the position of affecting the work and reputation of the Court in that its caseload is shaped by the concerns and self-interests of permanent members of the UNSC – some of whom are not parties to the Rome Statute. Clarke & Koulen (Reference Clarke and Koulen2014: 315) argue that ‘the drafting history of the Rome Statute, which resulted in a considerable role for the UNSC, illustrates the political origins of the law and the manner in which foundational inequalities are woven into the very fabric of the Rome Statute’. And yet, the UNSC referral represents, at least in theory, the denial of impunity for perpetrators of international crimes committed not within the territory of a member state.
An important aspect of the Court's legitimacy, it seems, therefore rests in the resolution of a tension: the Court obtains legal and moral legitimacy by (democratic or representative) state support and yet, in seeming contradiction and tension, its core aim is to deny impunity to those who were able to shield themselves in the statist system, thereby symbolising that no individual can get away with grave abuses against their fellow human beings in a world that respects basic human rights. The Court espouses the idea that there is a higher authority than state leaders when it comes to the most egregious offences, and yet this system rests upon and operates according to procedures set out in the Rome Statute, a constitution negotiated by states. As the legitimacy of the ICL system is based, as mentioned above, on both the real justness of the foundation of the system and the popular acceptance of the governing system, these factors, alongside the Court's own acts of partiality or acts that may appear partial, hamper the Court's standing. The next section examines specific African concerns in light of these conditions.
THE MORAL WEIGHT OF AFRICAN CRITICISMS
For both moral and practical reasons, it is both right and wrong to dismiss the concerns and tactics of African states and also pay them serious attention. The main criticisms levelled at the Court are that it is an instrument of Western imperialism, that it is a Western-led institution focused on bringing ‘justice’ to Africa; and that, in not granting head-of-state immunity, it does not respect the will and needs of Africans or African leaders. This section examines these charges separately and shows how dismissing them outright would be wrong but taking them seriously does not mean that the Court should surrender to the demands of particularly vocal African leaders.
Western justice for Africa
There is good reason for concern over the charge that the ICC brings ‘justice’ to ‘society's outsiders’ and shields more powerful, Western states (Simpson Reference Simpson2007: 17). Because of the ICC's unique referral system, the cases that make it before the Court reflect not necessarily the worst or most deserving of all situations globally; rather the Court's caseload reflects the membership of the Court and the judgement of the international community expressed through UNSC votes. This condition leaves the Court's legitimate authority in question, especially in cases that are referred by the UNSC, and is one of the foci of many Third World Approaches to International Law (TWAIL) scholars who argue that international law engages and enables the processes of marginalisation and domination (Kiyani Reference Kiyani2015b) and who explore the ‘politics of inclusion and exclusion when it comes to who, and what, is ultimately prosecuted’ (Reynolds & Xavier Reference Reynolds and Xavier2016: 961).
The differential treatment by the Court of Libya and Syria demonstrates one repercussion of this arrangement. Because neither country is a member-state, the only way for the ICC investigation into these situations to be initiated would be by means of UNSC referral. In February 2011, the UNSC unanimously voted to refer the actions of the Muammar el-Gaddafi-led government in Libya to the ICC (UNSC 2011). No such referral was forthcoming for Syria, despite arguably similar conditions and 57 states – including the UK, Germany, Botswana, Tunisia, Japan and Costa Rica – calling for one (Human Rights Watch 2013). This lack of UNSC attention to Syria may be partly because of the country's ties to permanent members of the UNSC that possess veto power and who are also not members of the ICC, specifically China and Russia. To some critics, this state of affairs reeks of politics in the absence of objective justice (Chulov Reference Chulov2011; Proudman Reference Proudman2013), where legal principles become ‘subservient to political agendas’ (Arbour Reference Arbour2014: 199).
There continues to be reasonable concern about the unequal treatment of these two similar cases and, more generally, about the UNSC's relationship with the Court. The Western imperialism critique, which originated from Western involvement and lack of local ownership of processes that are internationally driven, was arguably weakened by strong American opposition to the Court. However, as has been shown in practice, as a permanent member of the UNSC, the USA is in a position to guide and determine ICC involvement in situations without itself submitting to its jurisdiction. The USA did abstain from voting on the first UNSC referral, that of Darfur in 2005 (Resolution 1593); it has since, however, become more involved, voting for the referral of both Libya and Syria. The referral of Syria has been continuously blocked by the veto power of Russia and China (United Nations 2014). This contradictory stance, that UNSC members have the power to refer or veto while not being themselves within the jurisdiction of the Court, is arguably far more detrimental to the legitimacy of ICL than the USA's previously antagonistic position toward the Court's existence.
Furthermore, there are examples of bias within the referrals themselves that undermine the credibility of the Court, demonstrating again how powerful states are able to shield themselves from Court censure. In the cases of both Darfur and Libya, the influence of the UNSC and other powerful global actors is evident in the manner in which non-Sudanese and non-Libyan actors were treated. UNSC Resolution 1593, adopted in 2005, referring the situation in Darfur, Sudan, to the ICC includes an operative paragraph 6, which excludes investigations of non-state parties, with the exception of Sudan. This paragraph has been dubbed ‘the most controversial aspect of the referral’ (Cryer Reference Cryer2006: 208). It is troubling since ‘the exclusion of some states’ nationals … makes it difficult to reconcile the resolution with the principle of equality before the law. Some states’ nationals … are more equal than other’ (Cryer Reference Cryer2006: 217).
Similarly, the UNSC resolution referring the Libyan situation specifically excludes the nationals of any state not party to the Rome Statute – except Libya – from the Court's jurisdiction (UNSC 2011: Resolution 1970, para. 6). Excluding citizens of non-state parties (other than the referred state) hinders the ability of the Court to investigate all crimes committed within its jurisdiction in the geographic and temporal situation referred, and also acts to shield UNSC member states’ interests. Despite an investigation by the International Commission of Inquiry on Libya into allegations that NATO was responsible for violations of international humanitarian law, any crimes judged to have been committed by NATO personnel would almost certainly not be addressed by the ICC because of the operative paragraph 6 restrictions. Such selectivity diminishes the ICC's perceived impartiality and legitimacy, and portrays it as a political tool of the UNSC (Birsall Reference Birsall2015).
In both referrals, operative paragraph 6 illustrates the intentional obstructions of the pursuit of ICL by the UNSC (Fisher & Stefan Reference Fisher and Stefan2016). UNSC referrals are the only option that leaves the relevant state's membership to the Rome Statute extraneous, and therefore expand the reach of international criminal justice into states unwilling to sign into the Court. UNSC referrals, like those of the Darfur and Libya situations, are thus problematic because their selective use undermines the idea of impartial international justice, posing challenges for the international community to support equitable treatment globally. The legitimate moral authority of these referrals, then, seems questionable.
In regard to the criticism levelled against the ICC by African state leadersFootnote 7 claiming that the Court is an instrument of Western imperialism bringing ‘justice’ to Africa, the process by which situations are brought forth creates concern for the justness of case selection. It is not that the crimes on the African continent should not be addressed, nor that any of the African-based situations currently before the Court do not merit ICC attention; rather, there are other situations globally that also warrant Court attention and have been neglected or purposefully ignored. It has been argued that although the ICC ‘has gone where it is most needed, its traditional defenders conceded that its enthusiasm to investigate cases in Africa was not matched by similar action elsewhere’ (Makokha Reference Makokha2016). This situation demonstrates real failings in the Court's ability or interest to pursue justice unfettered, at least partly because of the realities of international politics, and is a real concern for the legitimacy of the Court. These real problems form the basis of concern over the legitimacy of the Court as a just arbiter; there is a genuine need to address constraints that result in the Court being influenced or directed by the interests of powerful states or actors.
Head-of-state immunity
Aside from the question of authority and selectivity of the Court, concern has also been voiced by African leaders that the Court should grant head-of-state immunity for leaders accused of committing crimes within the jurisdiction of the Court. Arrest warrants issued for heads of state, arguably, force African leaders to choose between obligations to the Court to arrest (if their states are member states of the ICC)Footnote 8 and obligations under customary international law to respect official immunities, a choice that makes international politics challenging. Members of the AU have pushed for head-of-state immunity since Sudanese President al-Bashir was first indicted by the ICC in 2009. In 2013, when Uhuru Kenyatta – who at the time was also under indictment by the ICC – was elected President of Kenya, there was again increased pressure to invoke immunity for leaders of states who must be able to participate in international forums and meetings with foreign dignitaries.
As expressed earlier in this article, the idea that heads of state should be immune from criminal prosecutions is not new, nor does it originate with African states. Such immunity has a long history of conferring protection on individuals performing acts of state and shields individuals from prosecution for domestic crimes or civil liability. The idea is that heads of state must have some latitude to perform acts and participate in international politics on foreign soil without fear of foreign domestic law. However, as mentioned earlier, there is debate about whether immunity can be conferred for international crimes such as genocide, crimes against humanity, and war crimes, especially before the ICC (Ssenyonjo Reference Ssenyonjo2018). Generally, the position taken by the ICC, although not definitive, is that ‘customary international law creates an exception’ and no immunity can be conferred for these types of crimes because genocide, war crimes and crimes against humanity cannot be acts of state and because they are jus cogen norms – that is, they are norms from which no derogation is permitted, not even by state leaders (Decision on Malawi, ICC-02/05-01/09 2011: para. 43). Denying immunity for heads of state seems reasonable, especially since the ICC was established as an international institution to bring justice where states are unable or unwilling to, at times in reaction to violence to citizens from their own governments; arguably, ICL is based on a normative foundation that recognises the need to protect citizens from a state's infliction of some of the worst harms imaginable (Vernon Reference Vernon2002; Fisher Reference Fisher2012).
The decision to issue an arrest warrant for al-Bashir marked a significant point in Africa–ICC relations, as subsequent to the issuing of the warrant many states on the continent ran afoul of what is arguably their commitment to the Court in failing to arrest him. The fact that the ICC lacks a police force with which to enforce its rulings and arrest suspects and is therefore dependent on diplomatic pressure and the cooperation of members to carry out such tasks puts states that would most regularly interact with the newly indicted head of state in an awkward position. Cases in which heads of state are indicted arguably ask countries to balance the obligations owed to the ICC with the customary international law immunities that are traditionally accorded such officials, thereby hampering some African states from conducting international politics as usual (Du Pleissis & Tladi Reference Du Pleissis and Tladi2017).
In 2016, the ICC referred Chad, Djibouti and Uganda to the UN for failing to meet their obligations to cooperate with the Court and arrest al-Bashir when he visited their countries. Other African states, including Kenya and Nigeria, have also allowed the Sudanese President to visit and leave, as has South Africa. In April 2017, South Africa defended itself before an unprecedented ICC hearing for its failure to arrest al-Bashir in 2015. Al-Bashir, who was in South Africa to attend an AU meeting, boarded his plane and departed ‘unhindered by the South African authorities who had already been ordered over the weekend by South Africa's High Court to prevent him from departing’ (Onishi Reference Onishi2015). South Africa, despite its High Court ruling that the government's failure to arrest al-Bashir was inconsistent with the country's constitution, defended its decision to allow him to leave claiming that it was stuck between two conflicting commitments: its commitment to the ICC and its commitment to historical international law and head-of-state immunity. South Africa argued that the ICC warrant did not outweigh a South African law granting sitting heads of state immunity from prosecution and that ‘there is no duty under international law and the Rome Statute to arrest a serving head of state of a non-state-party such as Omar al-Bashir’ (van den Berg Reference van den Berg2017).
While the legal arguments play out, there is good reason to push back against the claims of those who promote immunity for heads of state from ICC attention. Nevertheless, any act of pushing back must be sensitive to the environment in which the ICC operates in Africa and must be careful not to further entrench ideas of Western exceptionalism. As noted, there is a genuine problem with a system that holds itself up as an arbiter of global justice but allows some actors to dictate who should be judged and who should not. There is no reason to believe that Asad Kiyani is incorrect in saying ‘states would support the ICC in pursuing al-Bashir and other heads of State, for example, if they believed in the moral authority and fairness of the Court’ or that the fact that states are increasingly questioning the moral authority and fairness of the Court is unreasonable (Kiyani Reference Kiyani2015a: 11).
The problem is seemingly one of justice-as-democracy and how we understand the legitimacy of the ICC in relation to it. As mentioned earlier, to judge its legitimacy, one can consider different aspects of a legal system – the administration and procedure of law must be fair and objective and the system must be based on legitimate authority. These two aspects are intertwined and distinct. To get at the latter, one might argue that the system ‘must be “democratic” in nature; or it must vigorously pursue those who commit human rights atrocities, even if the trials are procedurally deficient’ (Kiyani Reference Kiyani2015a: 7). Arguably, while the moral foundation of ICL is at least partly grounded in human rights (Fisher Reference Fisher2012), ‘there are likely to be multiple normative legitimacy frameworks at play’ (Kiyani Reference Kiyani2015a: 9). For the ICC, one must be the equality of states under the Rome Statute and the democratic structure of the Assembly of State Parties. As a treaty-based international organisation, the ICC is seen as a democratic institution of sorts, with state leaders representing the interests of their citizens.Footnote 9
That actors representing those most affected by the Court see their interests as being negatively affected by Court procedures is worthy of attention. We must ask, however, a couple of important questions regarding democracy understood as popular control over policies and decision and regarding democracy understood as a system of fundamental rights:Footnote 10 why are these demands being made? And, can a decision to grant head-of-state immunity ‘lie within some generally agreed on boundaries as to rights, liberties, minimal standards of justice, and so on’ (Dahl Reference Dahl, Shapiro and Hacker-Cordon1999: 26)? Arguably, for those African leaders who are not pursuing the call for heads-of-state immunity from a self-interested position of someone within (or potentially within) the sights of ICC prosecution, reasons for this appeal can stem from concerns over the unjust burden borne by African states for the administration of ICL. However, instituting heads-of-state immunity as the solution would result in reinstating the very type of injustice that the ICC was created to combat, as well as entrenching – rather than alleviating – selectivity by introducing selectivity built into the structure of the Court to shield certain (domestically powerful) perpetrators (Kersten Reference Kersten2014), and therefore contravene the Court's moral foundation of human rights protection and promotion and the denial of impunity for atrocity crimes.
Some of the most fervent advocates of head-of-state immunity are those pursuing their own personal self-interests rather than those of their citizens. In an AU vote to grant immunity from prosecution to all African heads of states and senior officials before the African Court of Justice and Human Rights – a Court for now a ‘long way … [from] an operational reality’ (Bradfield Reference Bradfield2014) but often flagged as Africa's answer to its problems with the ICC – ‘the vote reflected a concerted push on the part of a minority of leaders, two of whom have been charged by the ICC’: Kenya's Kenyatta and Sudan's al-Bashir (Oakford Reference Oakford2014). Likewise, Kenyatta was the ringleader of the call by the AU to its member states to withdraw from the ICC (Killander Reference Killander2016). And Uganda's President Museveni, who criticises the Court for ‘being used to push “the hegemonic post-colonial agenda targeting African leaders”’, is a good example of an early African supporter of the ICC who referred his own state for his own political purpose and then turned on the Court (Wanambwa Reference Wanambwa2014). Museveni's motivation for the self-referral was to discredit the government's opponent in its conflict with the Lord's Resistance Army, ‘to delegitimize and remove … troublesome insurgents that could not be defeated militarily’ (Tiemessen Reference Tiemessen2012). Uganda's subsequent relationship with the Court has been troubled and troubling. Like al-Bashir, Museveni came to power in the 1980s in a military coup and has been accused of abuses against his own people.
And yet, it is not enough simply to use the histories of these advocates to dismiss the arguments that African sitting heads of state deserve immunity from prosecution before the ICC or that the ICC is part of a system that unfairly judges African leaders. As du Pleissis et al. argue, ‘failure to take [problems] seriously has provided some African politicians and officials with ammunition to argue that the ICC is selectively biased against Africa. This distracts from the very real plight of victims of war crimes and crimes against humanity which have taken place on the continent’ (du Pleissis et al. Reference Du Pleissis, Maluwa and O'Reilly2013: 3), but it also distracts from very real power differentials within the global system that greatly affect the ability of all African states to conduct regional politics. And, while the world continues to point fingers at the leaders, their records, and their methods of taking power, the populations of these countries (and others) become more and more disillusioned, and perhaps rightly so. One could argue that Kenyatta's election demonstrates the will of Kenyans and their distaste for the ICC's attention on him. Similarly, it has been reported that after al-Bashir's return from South Africa, escaping the arrest it was argued was South Africa's duty to execute, he was met with similar support in the form of expressed victory over the ICC (Onishi Reference Onishi2015). It seems many individuals who may once have believed in the Court as both a mechanism of accountability at home and a great equaliser globally, now regard the Court as impotent and biased.Footnote 11 This is a genuine problem for the Court where perceived legitimacy and normative legitimacy are intertwined.
It is not only those with self-interested conflicts with the Court who are supporting the call for immunity. As mentioned, the AU as a whole made statements and voted in ways intended to reaffirm ‘the principles deriving from national laws and international customary law, by which a sitting Head of State or Government or other Senior State Officials are granted immunities during their tenure of office’ (South African Government News Agency 2014). If we acknowledge that the growing dissatisfaction on the continent with the ICC might best be explained, at least in part, by its uneven treatment of leaders of different states and the extra burden that African states shoulder, then there is hope for a solution that can save the Court and the expectations it inspired for international justice. Arguably, it is a product of the problem explored above that al-Bashir and Kenyatta were called to answer for their suspected roles in international crimes, but that Tony Blair or George W. Bush will likely never be required to answer for any they may have committed. It is not, perhaps, the fact that warrants for these African leaders were issued (although to some no doubt this is the problem as all bad men have their own supporters and many have an interest in maintaining the old status quo that shielded heads of states), but that these warrants represent again the uneven distribution of justice globally. Perhaps, in finding a solution to the first problem, we will better be able to address and relieve concerns regarding the second.
Until the Western-imperialism charge that international justice only applies to some states and some actors is acknowledged and serious attempts are made to resolve it, the issue of head-of-state immunity may justly be seen as a request by leaders of politically weaker states for the de facto protections granted to the leaders of more powerful ones. It can also be seen as a request for relief from the uneven burden put on African states to not only alter the way in which regional international relations are conducted, but also detain and arrest heads-of-state that attempt to attend regional governance meetings. Immunity, especially of the de jure form that would be written into international law, would not, in the opinion of this author, be just, and it would be counter to the aims and proclamations of the Court and its supporters, but the larger issue is one of privilege and protection under the law for select actors, and deserves more than simply a terse dismissal.
A ROLE FOR AFRICAN STATES
It may be possible to save the Court's legitimacy and its democratic foundation by strengthening its realisation of democracy as a system of fundamental rights. In fact, it was this foundation, combined with democracy as popular control in the form of a treaty, from which the ICC originally arose. It is for promoting this cause of reinterpreting the UNSC's role in ICC referrals that African states, and the AU, are well-placed to adopt a strong moral and practical position. As the region of particularly and strongly implicated stakeholders, Africa could develop a role as a regional voice from a morally strong standing: (many) African states have accepted ICC jurisdiction, thereby surrendering some of their own sovereignty to the international institution, and are the most affected by its operations. They have the greatest interest in the Court's pursuit of objective justice and have signalled their own willingness, at least in theory, to put aside self-interest to support its work. The AU resolution calling for mass withdrawal also calls for African states to continue to push for court reforms (Igunza Reference Igunza2017), signalling both their uneven support for the withdrawal strategy and political will for advocating change, in this case specifically ‘a bid to amend the court's statute to exempt sitting leaders implicated in widespread atrocities’ (Keppler Reference Keppler2017). However, the specific recourse suggested by African states – advocating head-of-state immunity – is morally problematic, unlikely to develop global allies for ICC reform in general, and is highly unlikely to be met by the Court itself. Rather, there exists an opportunity for African states to work constructively towards changes that would not dismantle an avenue of protection for individuals against attacks by their own governments and to build upon the like-understanding of other states globally for the need for amendments in the operations of the Court, most pressingly perhaps the relationship between the UNSC and the ICC, to address the uneven application of justice in ‘a manner that extends, rather than curtails, accountability, so that victims have recourse to justice, no matter where atrocities are committed’ (Keppler Reference Keppler2012).
As mentioned, the AU's current voice on the ICC seemingly reflects those most vocal and negative about the Court. Those states supportive of the Court have been much quieter, signalling their support but doing little more, which is both a lost opportunity and also itself a distraction. Rather than threatening withdrawal over the issue of head-of-state immunity, which would further entrench global injustices, African states could collectively promote enhanced international objective justice by pushing for reforms to the ICC–UNSC relationship. Nothing in this article should be taken to suggest that African states are exceptional in their attempt to shield themselves from the burdens or unwelcome interventions from the Court. Politics and self-interested non-normative positions are employed by many states, not least the P-5 members of the UNSC. African states, however, have an opportunity to do better, to be champions of the ICC and ‘seek to improve the institution into which [they have] already invested so much … to be a leader [rather than] a laggard in international justice’ (Goldstone & Kersten Reference Goldstone and Kersten2018), to transform their unique relationship with the Court into a position of strength from which to make much needed moral arguments about the Court's operations.
Of course, recognition that the ICC–UNSC relationship is problematic is not new; nor is it novel to suggest that changes are possible and necessary (and difficult to achieve). International law scholarship has offered countless analyses and ranges of recommendations for solutions to the Article 16 ‘problem’, that the UNSC can stay ICC procedures with a resolution adopted under Chapter VII of the UN Charter (Clarke & Koulen Reference Clarke and Koulen2014: 299–300). What much of the recommendations have in common, though, is a fairly passive role for African state leaders. For example, Makau W. Mutua, not inappropriately, suggests that state parties and other stakeholders ‘should more seriously engage these African states – and key stakeholders within them – to facilitate the work of the ICC to stem impunity’ (Mutua Reference Mutua2010: 1) and that ‘Security Council member-states must resist the pressure to politicise the work of the ICC’ (Mutua Reference Mutua2010: 8). There is, however, a much larger role for African states, via the AU, to take: to strengthen the Court, and to bolster their own global moral standing at the same time. The agency of African states and other African actors to influence global norms and international institutions is often understated (Coleman & Tieku Reference Coleman and Tieku2018). It is possible for those AU member states that support the ICC – and these are many (Keppler Reference Keppler2016) – to not only reaffirm their support, but also to work to strengthen the legitimacy of the Court.Footnote 12 ICC reform may be an area in which African states can build upon the international influence they have.
For there to be hope for the ICC as an institution of global justice, what seems needed is a ‘practical push towards geopolitical egalitarianism in who or what is prosecuted’ (Reynolds & Xavier Reference Reynolds and Xavier2016: 963). Such ICC reform is an area where African voices, if regarded as originating legitimately (non-self-serving motivations of individual leaders), have a chance of making an important impact. It would seem African participation is both needed and valued in developing global norms and perceptions in areas of issues seen to be prevalent in African states, because local knowledge and allies are crucial to the credibility of international mobilisation efforts (Coleman & Tieku Reference Coleman and Tieku2018: 4). While ICC reform is a challenging issue, African states may be in the best position to take a stand as significant stakeholders and make demands on the institution or demands on those who influence its unequal enforcement of international laws.
Recognition of flaws of the Court and how its operations reflect the balance of power within the international order is increasing. And yet, it is still far from the ‘relatively weak International Criminal Court (ICC) that would serve as an agent of the Security Council’ first proposed in the International Law Commission's 1994 draft statute (Goodliffe & Hawkins Reference Goodliffe and Hawkins2009: 977). Despite expectations and strong-state (USA) opposition (Schabas Reference Schabas2004; Goodliffe & Hawkins Reference Goodliffe and Hawkins2009: 989), between 1994 and 1999 states pushed for a more robust ICC than was initially expected because ‘countries considered [their] commitments to human rights’ and their ‘relationships’ during negotiations (Goodliffe & Hawkins Reference Goodliffe and Hawkins2009: 994). There is no guarantee that stripped of their arguments on the insistence of head-of-state immunity, arguments on the inequalities of international justice and the performances of the Court would find solutions in the international community, but now – especially now, when the global community is dividing along the lines of anti- and pro- cosmopolitan stances (Fisher & Stefan Forthcoming) – there is a greater chance of support for substantial changes in how the ICC represents global power differentials.
As mentioned, African leaders who argue for head-of-state immunity for reasons other than to shield themselves from prosecution before the Court are not taking an unreasonable position; they have a legitimate grievance in that they are shouldering a greater regional burden by the requirement that they arrest travelling heads of state. An easy solution seems within grasp and in line with what many believe is the right interpretation of international law. Nevertheless, pursuing this solution of head-of-state immunity is neither in the interests of global justice and human rights protection nor likely to garner these traditionally less-powerful states global allies in their cause. But, by shouldering a larger burden in implementing international justice, African states are in a strong position to argue for more influence in what is determined to be just and what goals are pursued by the ICC within their continent and beyond. This influence is not likely, however, to bear fruit if used to pursue head-of-state immunity; nor would it be an advancement of international justice in the protection and promotion of human rights globally. Pushing for head-of-state immunity, especially in the current climate, with the most vocal advocates of the position being those who are making arguments for their own self-preservation, is not likely to attract the positive attention and buy-in needed for any real change. Pursuit of other reforms, perhaps, including the relationship between the ICC and the United Nations, might, with some strategy, attract strong allies from outside the continent, and from a position of moral strength. At this particular moment, African states may be in a uniquely powerful position to influence other global actors who want to maintain the existence and legitimacy of the Court.
CONCLUSION
At the fifth anniversary of its founding, Judge Philippe Kirsch, President of the ICC, issued a statement about the prospects and promise of the Court and its initial successes (Kirsch Reference Kirsch2007). In his statement, Kirsch alluded to the trend of African cases without speaking directly of it, and, while he was right to be pleased and optimistic about the Court's initial steps, one should question the repercussions to ICL and the Court of a caseload that was (and still for the most part is) exclusively focused on cases from a particular geographic area. This is especially appropriate when the Court is situated so far – physically, economically, perhaps culturally – from the contexts in which the crimes took place and in which the victims still reside. Gerry Simpson writes, ‘the choice of potential defendants raises suspicions that the Court has been vested with the task of applying international justice to international society's outsiders’ (Simpson Reference Simpson2007: 17).
The concerns voiced by African actors (and others) that the Court has focused too narrowly on the continent is reflective of a real problem – that the Court is not an institution capable of objectively administering global criminal justice. The Court is challenged by the tension created by its treaty foundation and the realities of international politics: it must attempt to deny impunity globally or be seen (and rightly so) as unjustly selective, while being shackled by the restraints of a state-negotiated founding statute. To summarily deny the concerns of the states most affected by the Court is to do real and continuous damage to the normative and perceived legitimacy of the ICC. On the other hand, threats of withdrawal and public statements of support do little to alleviate systemic problems that affect the legitimacy of a Court once supported as a necessary institution. Since African states can, particularly on this issue and at this time, command attention because of their substantial proportion of the Court's support and therefore their influence on the legitimacy of the institution, they have a unique opportunity. It is in the interests of weaker states globally, those states which are not permanent members of the UNSC or which enjoy strong relationships with these P-5 members, to find solutions to the problems that African states currently face in regards to the pursuit of ICL through the ICC. With the right message and focus, African state leaders may be in a position to harness the power of allies in their cause to challenge the Court's operations, thereby exerting a positive normative influence on this institution of global governance.
