(Commentary) – Support for a UN-sanctioned Commission of Inquiry (CoI) against Burma’s military leadership for crimes against humanity has steadily gained adherents following the March 2010 recommendation by the UN Special Rapporteur on human rights in Burma. Earlier this year Latvia joined the supporters, bringing to16 the total number of countries calling for a CoI.
Backing for the call also took center stage in a recently conveyed and well-articulated statement by opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi to the US Congress. In her appeal to American legislators, Suu Kyi went to lengths to emphasize that a CoI should not be equated with a criminal trial. Technically speaking the point is of course valid, and the democracy icon’s stance is well intentioned. The potential pitfall, however, is the application and connection between international law and Burma’s domestic situation; or, put another way, it is a dilemma of international justice in the absence of international order.
Countries supporting CoI |
Date of voiced support |
Australia |
March 2010 |
United Kingdom |
March 2010 |
Czech Republic |
April 2010 |
Slovakia |
June 2010 |
United States |
August 2010 |
Canada |
September 2010 |
Hungary |
September 2010 |
New Zealand |
September 2010 |
Netherlands |
September 2010 |
France |
September 2010 |
Ireland |
September 2010 |
Lithuania |
September 2010 |
Estonia |
October 2010 |
Belgium |
February 2011 |
Denmark |
March 2011 |
Latvia |
March 2011 |
Burma’s military leaders are acutely aware of and interested in matters related to any paths of possible future litigation against them. And elementary lessons gleaned from recent Commissions of Inquiry against leaders at odds with Western powers paint a telling picture.
A CoI launched into the doings of Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir in 2005 led to the International Criminal Court (ICC) issuing an arrest warrant for the Sudanese strongman in 2010. Additionally, the ICC is currently preparing a probe against Libyan leader Muammar Gadaffi, for whom an arrest warrant has already been issued, for his role in suppressing this year’s unrest in the North African country. The speed with which the latter was addressed, the CoI coming into effect only in March, speaks volumes to the political and problematic machinations that impose themselves on the process of litigation.
Each of the two cases’ inquiries and subsequent ICC actions against Bashir and Gadaffi entail their own unique forebodings and lessons for Burma’s array of opposition groups and recalcitrant military authorities.
In the case of Sudan, for which Bashir’s arrest warrant concerns state activities in the western region of Darfur, there is little option, given the domestic political scene, but for protagonists in the conflict to eventually reach some sort of accommodation, including with representatives of Bashir’s government. Ongoing deliberations within the framework of the Doha Peace Forum attest to this reality.
The questions to be answered in an environment in which the accused maintains political dominance while enjoying working relations with governments less committed to existing systems of international justice are thus: Does the international justice process weaken or strengthen the prospects for a fruitful conclusion to dialogue between parties to hostilities? Can opposition outfits be expected to be realistic in their demands when the opposing side’s figurehead, President Bashir in the case of Sudan, is charged with war crimes? And is a government facing arrest warrants compelled in any way to reassess existing domestic and international policy?
Libya, on the other hand, illustrates another facet to the troubled relationship between international justice and order. As was the case with Yugoslavia’s Slobodan Milosevic, mechanisms of the international justice system are functioning in real-time with armed intervention against the state, military action paving the way for eventual changes in the domestic landscape in accord with international legal proceedings.
For Burma, cognizant of the domestic political environment and in the absence of any real threat from external intervention, the Sudanese experience offers a possible, if unwelcome, prescience. Burma’s central authorities, including its coterie of high-ranking military officers, will need to be consulted. Processes of national reconciliation do not necessarily taper well, at least initially, with programs of international justice.
While calls for national reconciliation abound in the case of Burma, the details of what the term practically entails are left wanting. Calls for reconciliation are welcome, but the truth is the general script of the dialogue needs to already have been largely written before all parties agree to the forum. And here, there is a gaping lack of trust and understanding between the players in Burma as to what form that script is to take; and specifically regarding what Burma’s military leaders can expect for engaging in any process.
Yet, while the short-term prospects of a CoI as a harbinger for meaningful change seem remote, there still exists long-term potential. This holds especially valid if the Burmese state gradually opens up to international investors amid a corresponding increase in the complexity of domestic policy-making circles. In such a scenario actors standing accused of crimes against humanity may find themselves slowly exposed to the fickle winds of justice.
Liberia’s Charles Taylor, after a suitable length of time following a deal to ease him out of power and into exile, was eventually brought before the ICC to face trial for his actions in West African wars. More recently, Bosnian-Serb military leader Ratko Mladic was sent packing earlier this year to The Hague to face responsibility for his actions during the Yugoslav civil war. Though hundreds of protesters took to the streets of Belgrade in opposition to the detention of Mladic, several analysts suspect the decision to move against the militia leader was eased with the passage of time and gradual transformations within the Serbian body politic.
Closer to Burma, Cambodia offers yet another look at the disparate and competing faces of justice. Thirty-two years after the Khmer Rouge were driven from power and some dozen years since the movement’s top echelon of leadership formally surrendered, leaders of the movement are standing trial for their parts in the deaths of some 2 million Cambodians. While backed by the UN, the trials are taking place under a branch of Cambodia’s national court system.
Referring to the court’s proceedings as ‘carthatic’, Cambodian human rights activist Ou Virak told theBBC on Monday that while the crimes ‘remain ingrained in Cambodia's collective psyche. I hope that this trial...provides all victims with some sense of justice, however delayed that justice may be’. Imperfect and time-consuming the system surely is, but few will argue that positive steps are not being taken.
The divergence between justice and pragmatism is rarely easy to disentangle. Though holding people to account for their actions is a meritorious goal it must be gauged against the complexities on the ground, especially if those indicted remain the dominant source of power and policy.
A CoI into what has taken place in Burma is well grounded in both moral and legal terms. But is it really the pragmatic strategic model needed today to assist in jumpstarting a decades-long moribund process of national dialogue?