Putin’s Red Carpet: How the ICC Became a Global Joke

 

The ICC’s failure to hold Putin accountable proves it is nothing more than a diplomatic puppet show, and its existence serves no purpose other than to give the illusion of global justice. Also, by refusing to arrest Putin, Mongolia has aligned itself with war crimes, making it complicit in the suffering of Ukrainian children—an unforgivable betrayal of humanity.

Talk about a mockery of justice. The International Criminal Court (ICC) is like a toothless lion roaring in the distance while the prey continues to stroll undisturbed. The ICC, established to bring war criminals to justice, now stands as an international joke. And what better way to illustrate this than Vladimir Putin’s red carpet welcome in Mongolia—despite an ICC arrest warrant hanging over his head? It’s hard to believe that a man accused of war crimes received flowers and a ceremonial guard instead of handcuffs. Yet, here we are.

Putin’s lavish reception in Ulaanbaatar should have been a moment for international justice to triumph. Instead, it turned into an international embarrassment. The ICC, founded in 2002, is supposed to hold criminals accountable for atrocities like genocide, war crimes, and crimes against humanity. It has 124 member states—including Mongolia—that are legally bound to arrest individuals like Putin when they enter their borders. Yet, despite the arrest warrant issued in 2023 accusing Putin of illegally deporting Ukrainian children, Mongolia not only failed to arrest him, but warmly welcomed him like an honored guest.

This is not just an oversight. It’s an open defiance of justice. Ukrainian officials were understandably outraged. Ukrainian Foreign Ministry spokesperson Heorhiy Tykhyi condemned Mongolia’s actions, calling it “a heavy blow to the International Criminal Court and the system of criminal law.” He added that by allowing Putin to evade justice, Mongolia shares the responsibility for his war crimes. But Mongolia’s betrayal of justice runs deeper than just this one incident—it exposes the ICC’s inability to enforce its own mandates.

It’s ironic that the United States, a non-member of the ICC, criticized Mongolia for its actions. U.S. State Department spokesperson Matthew Miller said the U.S. “doesn’t believe any country should give Putin a platform to promote his war of aggression against Ukraine.” But the truth is, Mongolia was never going to arrest Putin. The country is sandwiched between two powerful neighbors—China and Russia—and relies heavily on its relationship with Russia, particularly for strategic projects like the Power of Siberia 2 gas pipeline, which aims to deliver 50 billion cubic meters of Russian gas to China annually. Arresting Putin would jeopardize Mongolia’s vital economic interests, which, as we see, clearly take precedence over international law and justice.

What’s even more laughable is the Kremlin’s confidence in Mongolia’s loyalty. Dmitry Peskov, Putin’s spokesperson, nonchalantly dismissed concerns about the arrest warrant, saying that Moscow had “great dialogue” with Mongolia and that all aspects of Putin’s visit had been discussed in advance. That’s right—the ICC’s legal obligations were nothing but a footnote in the grand scheme of bilateral trade and economic cooperation.

The ICC itself is not blameless here. For years, it has faced criticism for selective justice, often targeting African leaders while ignoring crimes in powerful countries. But its impotence in dealing with Putin is perhaps its most glaring failure yet. What use is an international criminal court if it can’t enforce its own arrest warrants? It is akin to having a fire alarm that never rings when there’s a fire. The ICC's warrant against Putin might as well be a piece of paper—Mongolia certainly treated it that way.

Let’s not forget what the ICC is accusing Putin of. The court claims that he orchestrated the illegal deportation of hundreds of Ukrainian children—a crime that fits squarely within its jurisdiction. But the Kremlin, of course, denies these accusations, calling them politically motivated. Russia has long rejected the legitimacy of the ICC, pulling out of its membership in 2016. As a result, the ICC’s power over Russia is almost non-existent. The same could be said for any leader powerful enough to ignore the court’s judgments without facing real consequences.

It is painfully clear that the ICC is no longer a credible institution. The United Nations, the international community, and even the ICC’s own member states have shown little willingness to enforce its rulings. The Mongolian government was not concerned about defying the ICC, nor were they worried about international backlash, because they know the court has no teeth. The fact that Putin could travel freely to a country that should be bound by ICC rules proves that the court has become irrelevant. It cannot perform the very function it was created to do—enforce international justice.

So why does the ICC even exist if it cannot arrest the world’s most notorious war criminals? Why should we continue to pretend that it is an effective institution? Disbanding the ICC would at least spare us the embarrassment of watching it fail time and again. An organization that cannot enforce its laws is worse than useless—it’s a farce. Putin’s warm reception in Mongolia is just the latest example of how the ICC’s impotence makes a mockery of international law. If justice is truly blind, the ICC seems to be groping in the dark.

In the end, the ICC has become the laughingstock of international justice, and Mongolia’s betrayal has only solidified its irrelevance. Putin walked away from Ulaanbaatar not only free but celebrated. The ICC, meanwhile, has done nothing but issue more empty statements. And why not? In the grand theatre of international politics, the ICC is merely an actor playing the fool.