Justice Beyond Borders? Australia and the International Criminal Court

The International Criminal Court (ICC) came into being on 1 July 2002. A four-person team opened an office in The Hague and will collect reports and allegations of genocide, war crimes and crimes against humanity until judges and a prosecutor are appointed towards the end of 2003. Although the court was heralded by many states and international lawyers as the most important positive development in international law since the formation of the United Nations, it did not get off to an auspicious start. The Bush administration was concerned that US military forces operating overseas would be particularly vulnerable to what it described as 'politicised' prosecutions. It therefore insisted that not only would it not be a part of the ICC, but also that it would not sanction the continuation of UN peacekeeping operations. Closer to home, the Australian Senate only ratified the ICC's founding treaty, the Rome Statute, after a bitter debate that split both the Liberal and National parties. This was the case even though the Howard government-and Foreign Minister Alexander Downer in particular-had been a leading advocate of the court and ratification of the Rome Statute had been a Liberal Party election promise in 2001. The cost that Downer, and pro-ICC Attorney-General Daryl Williams had to pay in order to appease restive conservative backbenchers, the National Party, and an increasingly reluctant (and pro-US) Prime Minister and secure the ratification was a declaration that reaffirmed the primacy of the Australian judicial system over the ICC. The declaration insisted that no Australian would be prosecuted by the court without the consent of the Attomey-General, and asserted Australia's right to define what is meant by the crimes of genocide, war crimes, and crimes against humanity. We argue that although Downer and Williams should be commended for their commitment to international justice, the declaration attached to Australia's ratification was unnecessary and unhelpful. The first and third aspects of the declaration were unnecessary: the principle of complementarity enshrined in the Rome Statute means that the ICC already recognises the primacy of domestic jurisdiction, and the crimes covered are already considered to fall under universal jurisdiction, as the Nuremberg, Tokyo and more recent Pinochet trials showed (see Weller 1999). The second is unhelpful because it contravenes both the letter and the spirit of the Rome Statute. We will begin, then, by tracing the development of the ICC debate in Australian politics. In 1998, the government was an enthusiastic advocate of the court but by 2002 an alliance of an ardently pro-US Prime Minister, vocal right-wing parliamentarians and their supporters, and The Australian (and its foreign affairs editor Greg Sheridan in particular) combined to put ratification in doubt. Contrary to Prime Minister John Howard's claims, this debate was not well informed. Instead, it was characterised by hearsay, inaccuracy and scare-mongering. The subsequent section of the article demonstrates this by focusing on the background to, and creation of, the Rome Statute

Whose names count? Jacques Rancière on Alfredo Jaar’s Rwanda Project

This article focuses on Jacques Rancière’s reflections on Alfredo Jaar’s The Rwanda Project in the context of wider discussions of the politics of naming the dead. Against the claim that his reflections reveal a depoliticizing, universalist commitment to naming all the dead, it contends that foregrounding the relation between naming and counting in this discussion shows Rancière’s focus to be the policing and politics of naming. In an original argument, it focuses specifically on how, for Rancière, in this context, individualized proper names function politically and dissensually. To do so it explores (i) Rancière’s analysis of the role of the mainstream media during the Rwandan genocide in perpetuating the police order (or order of grievability) which divided nameable individuals from anonymous masses, thereby constituting living and dead Rwandans as of little or no account, and (ii) his account of how Jaar’s art is able to disrupt the ‘partition of the sensible’ underpinning this count. The article concludes by considering how Rancière’s ideas about the relationship between naming and counting and between politics and police serve as a useful supplement to and extension of existing discussions of grievability

From urban catastrophe to 'model' city?: politics, security and development in post-conflict Kigali

In the years immediately after the 1994 Rwandan genocide, Kigali was a site of continuing crisis amid extraordinary levels of urban population growth, as refugees returned to Rwanda in their millions. Yet unlike many post-conflict cities that spiral into endemic crime and instability, it was rapidly securitised in the context of political consolidation and large amounts of foreign aid, and hailed by the UN as a ‘model, modern city’. This paper analyses the government’s approach to securitising Kigali, interrogating how its rapid trajectory from epicentre of conflict to carefully planned showcase for development has been achieved. It is argued that Kigali bears the weight of many of Rwanda’s development aspirations and keeping it secure and orderly is viewed as critical by the government. After examining the national and local processes through which the government has aimed to achieve ‘secure urbanisation’, the potential longer-term implications of its urban development strategy are considered

Us and Them: Identity and Genocide

Genocide is commonly deemed to be either inexplicable or the result of special hatreds. I argue instead that genocide is an extreme result of normal identity processes. Four overlapping phases are proposed. (1) Dichotomization elevates one dimension of identity over others and, within that dimension, sharply distinguishes two categories: us and them. This may lead to (2) dehumanization, in which “they” come to be seen not just as different from “us” but as outside the human universe of moral obligation. (3) Destruction may result, accompanied and followed by processes of (4) denial that enable the perpetrators to maintain their moral self-conceptions. These phases are illustrated with examples from the Holocaust, the 1994 genocide in Rwanda, the Latin American dirty wars of the 1970s and 1980s, and the European conquest of the Americas