In the early months of his return to power, President
Donald Trump has made a series of provocative
declarations that raise serious concerns about
his approach to international norms. He has floated
the idea of employing military force to take
control of Greenland and the Panama Canal, entertained
the notion of the United States assuming authority
over Gaza following the removal of its Palestinian
population, and urged Ukraine to surrender territory
to Russia as a condition for peace. While such
statements might initially be dismissed as part
of Trump's familiar pattern of theoretically
an incendiary rhetoric, they in fact reflect
a more deliberate pattern, one that challenges
a core tenet of international law, the prohibition
against using or threatening force to resolve
conflicts between states. Welcome back to Diplomacy
and Discourse, where we break down the global
currents shaping our world. I'm your host, AR,
and today's episode dives into a topic that sits
at the crossroads of history, law, and power.
The unraveling of post -World War II legal order,
specifically the prohibition on war and conquest.
This episode will explore how recent political
shifts, especially in the United States, threatening
the fragile system that kept great powers in
check and preserved peace for nearly eight decades.
I want to be clear, what you'll hear today is
a mix of researched facts and personal analysis.
My goal isn't to preach, but to spark dialogue.
So if you agree, disagree, or have your own take,
I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments.
Let's keep the conversation going. Before the
20th century, legal theorists believed not only
that countries could wage war to seize others'
land and resources, but also that in some circumstances,
they should. War was considered legal, the primary
way to enforce national rights and resolve disputes
between states. That all changed in 1928, when
nearly every country in the world at the time
joined the Kellogg -Briand Pact. agreeing that
wars of aggression should be illegal and territorial
conquests prohibited. The 1945 UN Charter reaffirmed
and expanded that commitment, putting at its
core a prohibition on the, quote, threat or use
of force against a territorial integrity or political
independence of another state, end quote. Having
discovered that merely agreeing to prohibit war
was not by itself enough, states then went to
extraordinary lengths to design frameworks and
institutions to cement this essential rule, leading
to the establishment of a new legal order that
elevated economic tools over military might to
ensure peace. As a result, wars between states
became far less common. In the 65 years after
the last settlements of World War II, the amount
of territory conquered by foreign states each
year plummeted to less than 6 % of what it had
been for just over a century before the World
First Outlawed War. The number of countries tripled
from 1945 to today, as states no longer feared
that they would be gobbled up by more powerful
neighbors. And countries traded more freely with
one another. knowing that the wealth they accumulated
was less likely to be plundered by other states.
The world became more peaceful and prosperous.
The influence of the prohibition on the use of
force had already eroded somewhat before Trump
returned to office. In 2003, the United States
invaded Iraq, justifying the war by claiming
that Iraq had weapons of mass destruction that
it did not possess. China has spent the last
decade building military bases in contested areas
of the South China Sea, and Russia's full -scale
invasion of Ukraine in 2022 set off the largest
land war in Europe since World War II. But Trump
is shredding what is left of the norm against
using force. Until now, the United States had
played a critical, if imperfect, role in maintaining
and defending the post -war legal order. The
resilience of that order depended less on total
compliance with international law than on shared
set of expectations about how other countries
would behave, even if a country was not itself
committed to the UN Charter's prohibition on
the use of force. It knew that violating the
norm would likely trigger condemnation, sanctions,
and perhaps even lawful intervention from the
United States and its allies. The old assumption
that the United States was served as a guardian
of the international norm against war and territorial
conquest has unraveled. Trump is not simply stepping
back from that historic responsibility. He appears
to be actively dismantling it. His posture suggests
a desire to re -legitimize war, or at least the
credible threat of it. as a routine instrument
for resolving international disputes and securing
economic advantage. Around the world, other leaders
are beginning to adjust to this new, more volatile
reality. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu
offered tactic support for Trump's comments about
Gaza. In a gesture seemingly aimed at appeasement,
Panama agreed to accept U .S. deportation flights
of non -citizens and approved the stationing
of American military forces near the Panama Canal.
Meanwhile, as Trump dangled the prospects of
permitting Russia to absorb parts of Ukraine,
Kiev moved to solidify its relationship with
Washington by granting U .S. access to its valuable
mineral reserves. Should this unraveling of legal
norms go unchallenged, the result could be a
dangerous regression. a return to an era when
brute force dictated international affairs. The
ripple effects would be severe, a resurgence
in global militarization, a spike in wars of
expansion, the contraction of global trade, and
a breakdown in the collective cooperation essential
for tackling common existential challenges. For
much of history prior to World War I, War was
not seen as a failure of diplomacy or international
order. It was the recognized mechanism by which
that order functioned. Without a central authority
or global court to resolve disputes between sovereign
nations, states relied on armed conflict as a
legitimate tool to assert their rights. War,
in this sense, was governed not by moral outrage,
but by legal reasoning. Governments routinely
issued formal war manifestos that outlined the
justifications for military action, which could
range from damage to national property, such
as attacks on ships, to unpaid debts, violations
of treaties, or self -defense. The use of force,
when backed by a legal rationale, was not only
accepted, but expected. As Hugo Grotius, the
17th century Dutch jurist widely regarded as
a foundational figure in international law, argued
in his Commentary on the Law of Prize and Booty,
a war was deemed just, quote, if it consists
in the execution of a right, end quote. Because
war was traditionally viewed as a legitimate
way to enforce legal rights, the doctrine of
conquest held a recognized place within the framework
of international law. Victorious states could
lawfully claim territory or resources as compensation
for the wrongs that justified the war in the
first place. As Hugo Grotius noted, in securing
prize or booty, a state acquires, quote, through
war that which is rightfully its own." Of course,
in practice, powerful nations often stretched
or fabricated claims to justify territorial expansion.
Yet, in a world without a higher legal authority
to arbitrate such matters, these justifications
were rarely challenged in any binding way. As
a result, The international system operated on
the assumption that conquests were lawful by
default. In essence, might conferred legitimacy.
A case in point is the US war against Mexico
in 1846, which was formally justified on the
grounds of unpaid Mexican debt. When the dust
settled, the United States compelled Mexico to
sign a treaty that transferred over half a million
square miles of territory. land that would become
much of the American Southwest, in exchange for
$15 million and the cancellation of those debts.
This pattern was by no means an anomaly. Throughout
the 19th century, powerful nations frequently
resorted to what became known as gunboat diplomacy,
the strategic use of military intimidation to
extract political or economic concessions from
weaker states. The logic was straightforward.
If going to war was considered a lawful means
of defending national rights, then threatening
war could likewise be deemed legitimate. A striking
example occurred in early 1854, when U .S. Commodore
Matthew Perry arrived in Edo Bay, modern -day
Tokyo, with a fleet of warships, asserting that
the United States had illegal entitlement to
trade with Japan. Perry made it unmistakably
clear that refusal to open Japanese ports would
be met with force. The implied threat proved
effective. On March 31st, 1854, the Treaty of
Kanagawa was signed, granting American vessels
access to two Japanese ports and marking the
beginning of Japan's forced integration into
the global trade system. Because war was historically
understood as a legitimate tool for upholding
legal rights, engaging in warfare was considered
an exercise in law enforcement, not an act of
criminality. States that waged war were not seen
as violating international norms, but rather
asserting them by force. This perspective helps
explain why After Napoleon Bonaparte's defeat
in the War of the Sixth Coalition in 1814, the
allied European powers did not prosecute him
as a war criminal. Instead, they exiled him to
the island of Elba, granting him the title of
emperor and allowing him to govern the island
with a degree of sovereign authority. Even after
his dramatic return to France and ultimate defeat
at Waterloo, Napoleon's fate was exiled once
again, not as punishment for wrongdoing, but
as a precautionary move. His removal to the remote
island of St. Helena in the South Atlantic was
intended to prevent any further destabilization
of Europe, not to hold him accountable under
any concept of international criminal justice.
In addition to the accepted right of conquest
and the widespread use of gunboat diplomacy,
states that engaged in war were shielded from
criminal accountability. But the legal framework
of the time also placed firm constraints on neutral
parties. Countries that remained outside the
conflict were expected to observe strict neutrality,
refraining from actions such as imposing sanctions.
that might hinder either side's ability to pursue
its perceived legal claims through war. Economic
penalties against warring states were viewed
not as legitimate diplomatic tools, but as unlawful
interference. In fact, if a neutral state breached
its duty of impartiality, it risksed being considered
a legitimate target of war itself. Ironically,
under this legal logic, Territorial conquest
was permissible, but economic sanctions aimed
at discouraging war could be seen as provocations
that justified it. Within this legal framework,
which prevailed well into the early 20th century,
military force was a routine tool for powerful
states to assert their interests, while weaker
nations were left with few choices, comply or
face destruction. The absence of legal restrictions
on conquest meant that borders were constantly
redrawn through violence and empires expanded
through brute force, deepening global power imbalances.
Trade routes were not negotiated but secured
through the presence of warships and colonial
territories were treated as spoils of legal disputes,
transferred through treaties signed under duress
or after defeat. In such a system, Warfare was
not an aberration, but a feature of international
life. And the perpetual threat of conflict cast
a long shadow over global economic development,
stalling progress and reinforcing inequality.
World War I introduced a scale of destruction
the world had never seen, fueled by unprecedented
technologies of warfare and the involvement of
over 20 nations. The death toll reached an estimated
20 million, with civilians making up nearly half
the casualties. As the guns fell silent, the
international community was left grappling with
how to prevent such mass devastation from reoccurring.
One of the first major efforts to address this
came with the creation of the League of Nations
in 1920, envisioned as a body that would maintain
global peace through collective security. Yet
its potential was severely undermined from the
outset. The US Senate, deeply cautious about
entangling the country in further European conflicts,
refused to ratify membership, crippling the League's
authority and diminishing its capacity to enforce
its ideals. Amid the global reckoning that followed
World War I, an ambitious new vision took shape.
The idea that war itself could be outlawed. In
late 1927, U .S. Secretary of State Frank Kellogg
advanced this bold proposal to French Prime Minister
Aristide Bryan, suggesting a formal international
agreement to renounce war as a tool of statecraft.
Remarkably, the idea gained rapid traction. By
1928, the resulting Kellogg -Bryan pact officially
known as the General Treaty for Renunciation
of War as an instrument of national policy, had
been signed by 58 nations, encompassing the vast
majority of the global community at the time.
The treaty marked a watershed moment in international
law, declaring that states would no longer resort
to war to resolve their disputes. Signatories
pledged to condemn recourse to war for the solution
of international controversies," end quote, and
to resolve their differences by, quote, passive
means, end quote, signaling a collective commitment
to a new era of diplomacy over violence. Although
the Kellogg -Briand Pact is often dismissed as
an idealistic failure, especially in light of
its inability to prevent World War II, it quietly
laid the groundwork for a transformative shift
in international law. Critics have long viewed
the pact as toothless, but its deeper impact
was more profound than even its creators likely
anticipated. By formally declaring war illegal,
the treaty forced a fundamental rethinking of
nearly every aspect of international legal practice.
When Japan invaded Manchuria in 1931, U .S. Secretary
of State Henry Stimson faced the challenge of
responding in a way that upheld the PAC's principles.
After months of deliberation, he announced that
the United States would not recognize territorial
acquisitions made through aggression. This stance,
which became known as the Stimson Doctrine, marked
a pivotal moment. It signaled the end of the
age in which conquest was legally accepted. Under
this emerging norm, even if Japan coerced China
into formalizing its gains through a treaty,
such agreements would carry no legal legitimacy.
The message was clear. Military might would no
longer validate legal claims, and gunboat diplomacy
would no longer produce binding obligations.
While both Germany and Japan, despite being signatories
to the Kellogg -Briant Pact, blatantly violated
its principles by igniting World War II, they
ultimately bore the weight of its legal and moral
consequences. The territories they seized through
military aggression were stripped away, and the
highest ranking officials were brought before
international tribunals to answer for their actions.
At the Nuremberg trials, The very first charge
leveled against the Nazi leadership was the deliberate
planning and execution of an aggressive war,
a direct violation of the Kellogg -Briant pact
of 1928. The indictment made clear that their
war making was not merely a geopolitical failure,
but a prosecutable offense under emerging norms
of international law. The principles enshrined
in the Kellogg -Briand Pact reshaped not only
the legality of war itself, but also the broader
framework of international law. One key shift
emerged in how neutrality was understood. In
1941, U .S. Attorney General Robert Jackson defended
the Lend -Lease Act, which allowed the United
States to supply arms to nations resisting Nazi
Germany without officially entering the war.
by arguing that traditional neutrality laws had
evolved. Since signatory states had pledged to
renounce war as a tool of national policy, Jackson
contended, a country that violated this agreement
forfeited any claim to equal treatment under
neutrality laws. As he put it, an aggressive
state, quote, acquires no right to equality of
treatment from other states, end quote. In this
view, neutrality no longer required strict impartiality.
Rather, it permitted states to support victims
of aggression without breaching legal norms.
In essence, the transformation of international
norms began with the signing of the Kellogg -Briant
Pact in 1928. But ideals alone proved insufficient.
Global leaders soon recognized that lasting change
required more than declarations. It demanded
enforceable rules and durable institutions. In
the aftermath of World War II, the Allied powers
took concrete steps to solidify this shift by
establishing the United Nations, which enshrined
the rejection of aggressive war into binding
international law. The UN Charter explicitly
forbids, quote, or political independence of
any state," turning the pact's moral vision into
legal obligation. Treaties obtained through coercion
were now deemed invalid. The traditional requirement
of neutrality gave way to a more principled stance
against aggression, and individuals who initiated
wars of conquest could be prosecuted as criminals
under international law. The legal revolution
that followed World War II, spearheaded in large
part by the United States, stands as one of the
most significant transformations in the history
of international relations. In the nearly 80
years since the UN Charter came into force, the
landscape of global conflict has fundamentally
changed. Interstate wars and acts of territorial
conquest, once common features of international
politics, have become strikingly rare. Since
1945, the world's great powers have avoided direct
military confrontation with one another, and
no member state of the United Nations has been
permanently erased through conquest. While violence
and conflict still persist, their frequency and
scale have diminished dramatically. To put the
shift into perspective, In the hundred years
leading up to World War II, more than 150 territorial
conquests succeeded. In the decades that followed,
that number has fallen to fewer than 10. While
some scholars attribute the post -World War II
peace to factors like nuclear deterrence, democratic
expansion, or the integration of global markets,
these explanations often overlook a critical
development. the formal outlawing of war. The
shift in legal norms fundamentally altered the
calculus of international conduct. A vivid example
came in August 1990 when Iraqi President Saddam
Hussein invaded Kuwait in direct violation of
UN Charter's prohibition on aggression. In essence,
the UN Security Council swiftly demanded Iraq's
withdrawal and, when that demand was ignored,
authorize the use of all necessary means to restore
peace and security. The United States led a multinational
coalition that forcibly removed Iraqi forces
from Kuwaiti territory. This episode sent a clear
message. Breaches of the legal ban on force would
not be ignored. The prohibition mattered not
only because states believed they should follow
it, but because it redefined their expectations.
particularly regarding how major powers like
the United States would react. The law, in effect,
changed the cost -benefit analysis of military
aggression. The ban on territorial conquest fundamentally
transformed the way nations pursued wealth and
power. Prior to its establishment, a state's
prosperity was often tied to its ability to seize
land, extract resources, or impose concessions
through force. War was not only a tool of statecraft.
It was a recognized path to economic gain. The
post -war legal order, by stripping away the
legitimacy of conquest, closed that avenue. In
its place, it incentivized peaceful methods of
growth, with international trade becoming the
primary engine of national prosperity. As military
aggression lost its legal and political utility,
states increasingly turned to economic cooperation,
competitive markets, and the unhindered movement
of goods and capital. The prohibition on war
and the rise of global trade were not parallel
trends. They were deeply interconnected, reshaping
the incentives that had long governed international
behavior. As the legitimacy of gunboat diplomacy
faded, Great powers had to adapt new strategies
to assert influence, replacing coercion through
force with what came to be known as checkbook
diplomacy. In this new era, economic and diplomatic
pressure, not military intervention, became the
principal tool for enforcing international norms.
As global economic interdependence deepened,
states developed increasingly sophisticated methods
of outcasting denying violators access to the
benefits of international collaboration. Trade
sanctions, in particular, emerged as a powerful
mechanism to penalize actions ranging from human
rights abuses and support for terrorism to unlawful
wars of aggression. This shift was underpinned
by a dramatic transformation in the global economy.
In 1945, trade represented just about 10 % of
the world's GDP. By 2023, It accounted for 58%.
Alongside this, tens of thousands of international
institutions were formed, and more than 250 ,000
treaties were drafted to govern this expanding
web of interdependence. In such a world, exclusion
from international cooperation became not only
a diplomatic setback, but a costly economic burden
few nations could afford to bear. The United
States, with its dominant share of global GDP
and unique position of the US dollar as the world's
reserve currency, acquired exceptional leverage
in shaping and enforcing the post -war legal
order. For most nations, maintaining favorable
relations with Washington was not just strategic,
it was economically essential. While the US role
in this system was far from flawless, evidenced
by controversial military interventions such
as the Vietnam War, the 2003 invasion of Iraq,
and prolonged counter -terrorism operations in
the Middle East, many of which were justified
through expansive interpretations of self -defense,
it nonetheless adhered to a crucial boundary.
It did not pursue territorial conquest. More
importantly, the United States often acted as
a guarantor of the international order. committing
to defend allies under collective security agreements
such as NATO, the Rio Treaty, and defense pacts
with nations like Japan, South Korea, the Philippines,
Thailand, Australia, and New Zealand. Its response
to Iraq's invasion of Kuwait in 1990 made a powerful
statement. Even absent from formal treaty obligations,
attempts at aggressive conquest would be met
with forceful opposition. Although the system
was imperfect, it functioned well enough to deter
major wars between powerful states and to preserve
the integrity of a global order rooted in interdependence.
Within this environment, states could focus on
building their economies without the looming
threat of conquest or being strong -armed into
surrendering wealth through unequal treaties.
That fragile order may now be on the verge of
unraveling. Past US administrations have rightly
faced criticism for inconsistencies and double
standards, but what sets the Trump administration
apart is its apparent readiness to abandon the
foundational principle that war should not be
used to resolve international disputes. The notion
that the United States could forcibly acquire
territories like Canada, Greenland, or the Panama
Canal, or assert control over Gaza, is not a
novel form of hard -nosed realism, or transactional
diplomacy. It is a revival of an older, more
dangerous logic. That power alone justifies action.
In both rhetoric and policy, Trump has revived
the pre -Khalaq -Briand worldview, one in which
the threat or use of force is once again treated
as a legitimate tool for negotiating outcomes
and extracting concessions. It marks a regression.
Not just from the norms of post -war diplomacy,
but from the legal and moral evolution that followed
the catastrophic lessons of the 20th century.
Beyond threatening territorial seizures by the
United States, the Trump administration also
appears ready to abandon the broader international
principle that states have a right not to be
conquered. In a striking episode, Trump reportedly
told Ukrainian President Vladimir Zelensky that
if he did not entertain a U .S. brokered peace
deal, one that, according to the Financial Times,
might require Ukraine to relinquish up to 20
% of its territory to Russia, he risked, quote,
losing his whole country, end quote. This posture
signals a willingness not only to ignore acts
of aggression, but to preserve vulnerable states
into accepting them. Trump has also revived gunboat
diplomacy by leveraging threats of military action
to force other nations into deals favorable to
the United States as seen in negotiations with
Canada and Mexico. Meanwhile, his erratic use
of tariffs, such as the imposition of 25 % duties
on key trading partners without clear legal justification,
further undermines the credibility of economic
sanctions as tools of lawful enforcement. Sanctions
derive their power from being used selectively
and in response to clear violations of international
norms. When wielded impulsively or punitively
outside the legal framework, As Trump's trade
policies often were, they weakened the legitimacy
of economic pressure as a response to genuine
misconduct. Trump's decision to authorize sanctions
against officials of the International Criminal
Court marked a striking reversal in the use of
sanctions as a legal tool. Rather than reinforcing
international norms, the move weaponized sanctions
against those tasked with upholding them, transforming
an instrument of justice into one of intimidation.
At a broader level, his isolationist economic
agenda undermines the very interdependence that
allows states to hold violators accountable through
nonviolent means. By weakening global ties, Trump
reduces the effectiveness of outcasting, the
practice of excluding road actors from the benefits
of international cooperation, thereby leaving
states with fewer peaceful options to respond
to breaches of international law. In this environment,
the risk grows that countries may turn back to
force or simply tolerate violations without consequences.
Though often dismissed as erratic or improvisational
Trump's rhetorical outburst and policy maneuvers
reflect a deliberate and dangerous challenge
to the legal architecture built after World War
II. This disruption is particularly alarming
given that it originates from the very nation
that helped construct and for decades sustained
that order. While some of his proposals may never
be enacted due to judicial checks or political
resistance, the damage lies in the signaling
itself. The mere threat of dismantling long -standing
norms erodes the mutual expectations that have
restrained aggression and preserved international
stability. When norms are degraded by the world's
most powerful actor, it sends a message that
the rules are negotiable, weakening their deterrent
effect for all. Those shared expectations that
states will generally act as if legal rules matter,
are what give the international system coherence
and predictability. They enable weaker nations
to make strategic decisions without fearing predation,
encouraging cross -border investment and cooperation,
and create space for collective response to lawbreaking.
If the United States, with its unparalleled influence,
begins to act as though these norms no longer
apply, others will likely follow. The resulting
unraveling will not be sudden, but it will be
steady, chipping away at the foundation of the
global legal order until it can no longer function.
What remains could be a world where power, not
principle, once again defines the limits of international
behavior. If the norm prohibiting the use of
force continues to erode, The world may revert
to a system dominated by great power spheres
of influence, one shaped less by law and more
by coercion. Leaders like Vladimir Putin, Donald
Trump and Xi Jinping could tactically agree to
divide the globe into regional zones of control,
where each would exert unchecked authority over
weaker neighbors. Within these spheres, smaller
states could face relentless pressure to offer
concessions in exchange for security. transforming
international relations into a transactional
form of subjugation. While such an arrangement
might produce short -term stability, it would
come at the cost of freedom and sovereignty.
More likely, however, the collapse of the prohibition
on war would unleash a resurgence of frequent
and localized conflicts, the very kind of instability
that the modern legal order was designed to prevent.
In Thucydides' enduring phrase, It would mark
the return of a world where, quote, the strong
do what they can and the weak suffer what they
must. There is, however, still a path forward,
but it demands bold leadership and swift coordination.
In 2022, 142 countries stood alongside the United
States in endorsing a UN General Assembly resolution
denouncing Russia's attempted annexation of Ukrainian
territory as illegal. This overwhelming support
reveals a latent global consensus that could
be harnessed to reaffirm the ban on conquest,
this time without depending on the United States
as the central enforcer. Encouragingly, Europe
has begun to fill the vacuum left by Washington's
retreat. After a controversial March meeting
in the White House, where Trump and Vice President
JD Vance openly derided Ukrainian President Vladimir
Zelensky and hinted at abandonment, European
leaders swiftly rallied behind Ukraine. British
Prime Minister Keir Starmer announced that European
nations would ramp up defense spending and forge
a coalition of the willing. to support Ukraine's
sovereignty, while European Commission President
Ursula von der Leyen committed to unveiling a
strategic aid plan on behalf of the EU. Yet Europe
cannot, and should not, be expected to simply
replace the United States as the world's de facto
guarantor of peace. It lacks the unified military
capability, global economic clout, and political
cohesion needed to carry that mantle alone. Moreover,
even if it could, substituting one hegemon for
another would repeat the structural flaws of
the old system. Any serious effort to uphold
the prohibition on force must reckon with the
inequities baked into the existing international
order. When the United Nations was created, five
dominant powers China, France, the Soviet Union,
the United Kingdom, and the United States, granted
themselves permanent seats on the Security Council
and vetoed authority over all enforcement actions.
This power imbalance, coupled with America's
outsized influence, has allowed repeated violations,
such as the US invasion of Iraq in 2003, to go
unpunished. Without structural reform and shared
accountability, any new enforcement regime risks
reproducing the very vulnerabilities that now
threaten to bring the old one down. The credibility
of the post -war legal order, particularly its
prohibition on the use of force, has been severely
weakened by its internal contradictions, especially
in the eyes of many states in the Global South.
For decades, these states have watched as powerful
countries preached legal norms while violating
them with impunity, fueling deep skepticism about
the fairness and legitimacy of the system. This
distrust risks obscuring what is truly at stake
if leaders like Donald Trump succeed in dismantling
the prohibition altogether. Acknowledging these
long -standing flaws and the inconsistencies
of the system's architects is not an act of self
-destruction. It is the necessary foundation
for building a more inclusive and resilient global
order. Preserving the legal ban on force will
require new thinking about international governance,
rooted in shared responsibility. Rather than
depending on a single dominant power, A reimagined
peacekeeping system must empower a broader array
of states to uphold legal norms, making those
norms more durable and less vulnerable to shifts
in any one nation's politics. To achieve this,
smaller and mid -sized countries must step forward
to lead. The assumption that a stable international
order requires a singular great power to act
as a guarantor has long gone unchallenged. but
it underestimates the power of coordinated action.
Collective influence, when states align their
efforts around shared legal principles, can rival
or even surpass the influence of any one hegemon.
The European Union offers a compelling model.
While none of its 27 members individually wields
global power, together they have forged one of
the world's most cohesive and influential political
blocs. This shows that by building broad -based
alliances, states that might otherwise feel powerless
in the face of global instability can shape international
outcomes and defend core legal norms. The United
Nations General Assembly, where all 193 member
states hold equal voting rights, should be positioned
to take on a more assertive role in this evolving
order. Although it lacks the enforcement authority
of the Security Council, the General Assembly
is explicitly charged with upholding peace and
security, and recent developments show its untapped
potential. In response to Russia's invasion of
Ukraine, the General Assembly activated a new
veto initiative that allows it to take up and
debate any resolution blocked by a permanent
Security Council member. Through this process,
The assembly helped legitimize international
sanctions, facilitated the delivery of weapons
and financial aid to Ukraine, and initiated a
reparations framework through a global register
of war damages. These actions illustrate how
a revitalized General Assembly can help enforce
international law, even without direct coercive
power, by coordinating collective responses and
amplifying global consensus. Regional and issue
-based coalitions also offer promising pathways
for reinforcing the prohibition on force. These
networks, forged through shared goals rather
than geographic proximity alone, are beginning
to take shape. The Council of Europe, for instance,
is establishing a special tribunal to compile
evidence and pursue legal accountability for
Russian aggression in Ukraine. Meanwhile, a block
of countries known as the Hague Group, including
Bolivia, Colombia, Cuba, Honduras, Malaysia,
Namibia, Senegal and South Africa, is actively
working to implement decisions from the International
Court of Justice and the International Criminal
Court regarding the conflict in Gaza. In May,
foreign ministers from the African Union and
the European Union pledged deeper cooperation
on peace, security and development. laying the
groundwork for a transcontinental peace coalition
that could function independently of US leadership.
These efforts underscore a growing recognition
that safeguarding international law is not the
burden of a few, but the shared responsibility
of many. While the UN Security Council remains
the only formal body authorized to sanction war
in the name of enforcing international law, its
limitations are increasingly apparent, especially
when one of its permanent members is the violator.
There is nothing preventing states from forming
an independent, outcasting council, a coalition
capable of coordinating joint economic and diplomatic
penalties against states that breach fundamental
norms, such as the prohibition on the use of
force. Sanctions have often failed to deter unlawful
behavior. largely because they are reactive,
inconsistently applied, and slow to organize.
But if countries commit to acting in unison through
pre -agreed mechanisms, they could transform
sanctions into a far more reliable and potent
tool. Institutionalizing such coordination would
give legitimacy and teeth to the enforcement
of international law, without relying solely
on the dysfunctional security council. Preserving
the prohibition on force ultimately depends on
states recognizing both its historical achievements
and the dangers posed by its unraveling. The
international community must not passively accept
the United States' retreat from its enforcement
role, but instead respond by building new institutions
to fill the void. Doing so would send a clear
signal that the commitment to legality and restraint
is broader than any one nation. and that global
norms are not subject to unilateral revision
by any single power, even one as dominant as
the United States. If Washington were to make
good on its threats to seize assets like the
Panama Canal, other nations could respond with
collective economic sanctions, diplomatic isolation,
or even the withdrawal of basing rights granted
to the U .S. military. Such actions would not
only reaffirm the international legal order,
but demonstrate that a wider array of countries
are both willing and capable of defending it.
The threat to the post -war order does not originate
solely from the United States. Russia and China
are also actively working to reshape global norms
to better serve their geopolitical ambitions.
The durability of the international legal system
will hinge on whether a more diverse group of
states, large and small, global north and south,
can take shared responsibility for upholding
its core principles. Yet, this will require difficult
shifts in global power dynamics. It is uncertain
whether historically dominant powers such as
France, Germany, and the United Kingdom are prepared
to relinquish their privileged influence, or
whether long marginalized countries can trust
a legal order that has often failed them. Still,
committing to a legal system built on the prohibition
of war remains vital. The temptation for smaller
states to play major powers off one another may
yield short -term gains, but in the long run,
It risks turning them into pawns in a renewed
era of great power rivalry, stripped of agency
and sovereignty. The post -1945 international
system, however flawed, brought the world unprecedented
stability and prosperity. But it will not endure
without intentional efforts. Its survival depends
on the recognition that peace is not self -sustaining.
It must be actively protected and reimagined
in every generation. After the outbreak of World
War II, American leaders understood that the
failure to build a stable order after World War
I had enabled catastrophe. They resolved not
to repeat that mistake. The lesson of history
is clear. Waiting until the chaos has subsided
to chart a new course guarantees failure. As
the post -war system comes under pressure from
within and without, today's leaders must act
with foresight, not only to defend what has been
built, but to design new institutions, alliances,
and mechanisms that can safeguard peace in a
rapidly changing world. Failing to do so invites
the return of an era where law yields to power
and diplomacy gives way to force. I want to leave
you with this. The international order we've
come to rely on didn't build itself, and it won't
survive passively. The idea that war is not an
acceptable tool of statecraft took generations
to construct, and it can be undone in a matter
of years or even moments. Whether it's Trump's
rhetoric, Russia's aggression, or China's ambitions,
the challenge ahead is clear. But so is the opportunity.
Countries. big and small, have the chance to
reclaim ownership of the rules, and reaffirm
that law, not force, should shape our world.
Thanks for tuning in to Diplomacy in Discourse.
If you got thoughts, whether you agree, disagree,
or want to add something new, drop a comment,
send a message, and let's keep this conversation
alive. Until next time, stay sharp, stay curious,
and stay engaged.