When Justice Is a Joke: The ICC's Toothless Pursuit of Putin

 

The ICC has become a global laughingstock, issuing arrest warrants it knows it can never enforce. By failing to arrest leaders like Putin, the ICC proves that it is a paper tiger, roaring loudly but utterly powerless to act. Let me put it as politely as I can:  The ICC is complicit in global impunity, providing a shield for war criminals by its sheer ineffectiveness.

When the International Criminal Court (ICC) issued a warrant for Vladimir Putin’s arrest in March 2023, it was like sending a sternly worded letter to the big bad wolf, asking him not to huff and puff. The world collectively raised an eyebrow—was this international body really prepared to arrest one of the most powerful leaders on the planet? As Putin prepares to visit Mongolia on September 3, 2024, a member state of the ICC, the question looms larger than ever: Will the ICC make its move, or will it once again prove that its bite is even weaker than its bark?

The ICC, established in 2002 under the Rome Statute, was envisioned as the world’s last line of defense against impunity for the most serious crimes—genocide, war crimes, crimes against humanity, and the crime of aggression. Yet, despite its lofty ambitions, the ICC has become more of a toothless tiger than a roaring lion. The upcoming visit of Vladimir Putin to Mongolia offers a pivotal moment for the ICC to prove its relevance. If it fails to act, one must seriously question whether this institution deserves to continue its operations or if it should be disbanded entirely for its utter uselessness.

Let’s rewind a bit. The ICC issued a warrant for Putin's arrest based on allegations that he is personally responsible for the unlawful deportation of children from Ukraine to Russia, a war crime under international law. The warrant represents the first time the court has targeted a leader of one of the five permanent members of the U.N. Security Council—a bold move on paper, but is it meaningful in practice? History casts a shadow of doubt.

Consider the case of Sudan's former President Omar al-Bashir. In 2015, al-Bashir visited South Africa, an ICC member, despite facing an arrest warrant for crimes including genocide. South Africa, bound by the Rome Statute to arrest him, did nothing. Al-Bashir left the country unscathed, and the ICC was left red-faced, issuing statements of condemnation that had all the force of a wet paper towel. The failure to arrest al-Bashir was a significant blow to the ICC's credibility, leading many to question whether the court was anything more than an ineffectual, symbolic body.

Fast forward to 2024, and the ICC finds itself in a similar predicament. Mongolia, like South Africa, is an ICC member. Under the Rome Statute, it is obligated to arrest Putin the moment his plane touches down in Ulaanbaatar. But will it? The Kremlin has already made its position clear: it does not recognize the jurisdiction of the ICC, and it certainly doesn’t take kindly to the idea of its leader being arrested by what it views as a biased, Western-controlled institution.

Mongolia, meanwhile, faces its own pressures. The visit is a diplomatic event commemorating the 85th anniversary of the joint Soviet-Mongolian victory over Japan in the Battle of Khalkhin Gol, a battle that remains a significant point of pride in Mongolia's history. For Mongolia, arresting Putin would not only be an unprecedented move against a global superpower but could also strain the historical ties that have linked Ulaanbaatar to Moscow for decades.

But let’s not get caught up in Mongolia’s dilemmas. The real question is this: If the ICC cannot enforce its own arrest warrant in a member state, why does it even exist? The world doesn’t need another forum for empty condemnations and symbolic gestures. It needs an institution that can enforce international law, even when it’s politically inconvenient.

And let's be honest—the ICC’s track record is far from impressive. Since its inception, the court has secured only a handful of convictions, mostly targeting African leaders while seeming to shy away from prosecuting crimes committed by powerful Western nations or their allies. This selective application of justice has led to accusations of bias and has eroded the court’s credibility. Now, with the Putin case, the ICC has an opportunity to show that it is not just another tool for Western powers to wield against their geopolitical rivals.

The stakes couldn’t be higher. If Putin leaves Mongolia unscathed, the message will be clear: the ICC is powerless to hold the world’s most powerful leaders accountable. And if that’s the case, what’s the point of its existence? An institution that cannot enforce its own rulings is not just useless—it’s dangerous. It gives the illusion of justice while allowing impunity to flourish.

Moreover, the world will be watching. Putin’s visit to Mongolia will be a litmus test for the ICC’s effectiveness and relevance. If the court fails to act, it will confirm what many already suspect: that the ICC is nothing more than a paper tiger, roaring loudly but unable to bite. It will embolden other leaders who might consider committing similar crimes, knowing that the ICC lacks the teeth to bring them to justice.

If the ICC cannot uphold the principles it was founded upon, then it has no reason to exist. It’s time to face the hard truth: a court that cannot enforce its own rulings is not a court at all; it’s a farce. And perhaps, if Putin does walk free from Mongolia, the world should do what the ICC can’t—pull the plug on this toothless institution and start anew.

After all, what's the use of having a watchdog that only barks but never bites? Better to send it to the pound and find one that actually knows how to protect the yard.