The Dangers of Selective State Support for International Tribunals
An Interview with Kate Gibson
Edited by Cailan Cumming & Paul R. Williams
A Note on Defending Justice
This blog is part of the Defending Justice series, an initiative of the Public International Law & Policy Group (PILPG) to promote an eclectic array of voices within the field of international criminal law.
As part of our broader efforts to strengthen institutions of justice, this series seeks to create space for dialogue around the varied perspectives and concerns that shape these institutions. With that aim in mind, we interviewed a series of defense practitioners working in international criminal law and distilled their experiences and insights into a series of first-person blogs, preserving the spirit and voice of those interviews.
Editor’s Note
This blog presents the reflections of defense lawyer Kate Gibson, who has appeared as counsel in some of the most significant cases in international criminal law. Drawing on her extensive experience before domestic, international, and hybrid tribunals, this blog examines the critical role states play in supporting international courts and how selective support can affect investigations, security, the rights of the accused, and the overall accountability process. Gibson offers practical recommendations for strengthening state engagement and shares her perspective on the institutional reforms needed to uphold fair trial guarantees in international courts. From the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR), International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY), the Special Court for Sierra Leone (SCSL), and the International Criminal Court (ICC), Gibson’s work reveals both the promise and the deep flaws of the international criminal justice project, shedding light on some of the most overlooked aspects of the justice process.
Introduction
I have been involved in international criminal trials since 2005, representing former heads of state, military commanders, and victims in cases before a range of international criminal courts and tribunals. My former clients include the former Vice President of the Congo, Jean Pierre Bemba, Congolese militia leader Bosco Ntaganda, former Liberian President Charles Taylor, former President Radovan Karadzic of the Republika Srpska, and former Rwandan Minister Justin Mugenzi. Over the years, I have seen how international tribunals can step in to provide accountability where national systems are unwilling or unable to do so, but I have also witnessed how selective support for these justice mechanisms can undermine the goals that these institutions aim to achieve.
My path to appearing on behalf of accused before international criminal courts was not a deliberate one. Having left private practice in Australia to study international law at Cambridge University, I was fortunate enough to be offered an internship at the newly established International Criminal Court (ICC) in The Hague. Once in The Hague, I was determined to meet as many people as I could who were appearing before the Courts, and learn about what it was like to practice as an international criminal lawyer.
This led me across the path of a young Dutch lawyer, Caroline Buisman, who was working as a Defence Legal Assistant in a defense team at the ICTR in Arusha. After we became friends, she asked if I would consider filling in for her during a trial session in Arusha, while she completed another trial at the ICTY. I was reluctant. It seemed mad to get on a plane to go and meet and work for people accused of being the masterminds of the 1994 Rwandan genocide. But once I stepped into the role, I came to understand the immense responsibility—and privilege—of defending accused and contributing to the shared goals of international justice. In the defense seat, I saw what it meant to contribute to the work of international institutions by fulfilling the defense’s role of testing the prosecution’s case, and advocating for fairness in the face of overwhelming public and political pressure.
Over the course of two decades working in the defense field, international criminal justice has repeatedly proven itself to me to be imperfect. The courts are generally far from the communities affected by the crimes, and trials take place years after the events occurred in unfamiliar languages and legal cultures. Yet these institutions play a vital role, particularly in contexts where domestic judicial systems lack the capacity to conduct fair and transparent trials; in environments with insufficient political will to pursue justice; or in places in which trials could reignite conflict.
The ICTR, for example, was established because Rwanda’s judiciary was considered in the aftermath of the genocide to be unable to address crimes of such severity and scale, especially within the social and political tensions found in Rwanda’s post-conflict society. The ICTY was seen as a necessary alternative to domestic prosecutions in the newly independent states of the former Yugoslavia, where political instability and ethnic divisions made the prosecution of international crimes impossible. In this context, the ICTY was seen as a neutral forum. Likewise, the Special Tribunal for Lebanon was set up in light of judicial corruption and political threats that made impartial justice unattainable in domestic courts. In addition to these tribunals, many countries have referred investigations and prosecutions to the ICC when lacking the capacity, resources, or desire to pursue them domestically.
After many varied experiences across the different international courts, I remain an avid proponent of the international justice project. However, these experiences have shown me that accountability is weakened when support for justice is selective. Too often, states and their domestic judicial systems cooperate enthusiastically with prosecutors, but give minimal support to defense teams or those acquitted or released by international courts. Defense investigations are hampered by bureaucracy, lack of access, and political resistance. And the decreasing resources dedicated by states to legal aid programs risks relegating the defense to a procedural formality, rather than recognizing defense teams as a fundamental counterweight to the prosecution.
If international justice is to live up to its ideal, a shift in culture is needed. This will require the courts to engage with states and reinforce that their commitment to international justice must extend past the front end of the process, that of investigation and prosecution of crimes. Unless state support includes support for defense teams, and for those acquitted or released by the courts, we risk eroding the legitimacy of these institutions and the entire international criminal justice project with it. With this in mind, this blog reflects on these challenges of selective support to international criminal trials, and offers ideas for a way forward.
Selective State Support
State support is vital to the functioning of international criminal courts. These institutions depend on consistent and comprehensive state engagement, without which courts and tribunals cannot effectively pursue their mandates, enforce arrest warrants, secure evidence, or ensure the protection of witnesses. For both the defense and prosecution, support and cooperation from states is absolutely necessary in order for us to carry out our work. In practice, however, state support for international justice is often deeply selective.
On one end of the spectrum, are states who seek to actively undermine the work of international courts, when perceived to be working against the interest of the state or their allies. This opposition to international justice has manifested in many different forms, ranging from the refusal to arrest and surrender accused, to the broad-ranging sanctions placed on individual ICC Judges by the United States government in 2025. This kind of outward hostility to the work of international courts is visible, and blatant. This blog focuses not on this kind of open opposition to international criminal trials, but rather will examine the impact of states who claim to be supportive of the international justice project, but who offer that support selectively. Meaning, those states who will choose when and how to cooperate and provide assistance based on what they consider as helpful to what they view as the goals of international justice. This starts with an examination of these perceived goals, and how these color the support provided to different actors within international criminal courts and tribunals.
Accountability Culture and the Focus on Convictions
The starting point for many states, particularly for State Parties to the ICC, is the idea that the Court was established to “prevent impunity” for international crimes. In simple terms, to ensure that perpetrators of the worst atrocities in our collective modern history are no longer allowed to get away with it. With this overarching goal of preventing impunity as the starting point, it is easy to see how the purpose of international criminal trials is then seen by states as securing the conviction of these perpetrators, and facilitating lengthy prison sentences which reflect the gravity of the charged events. For this reason, we regularly see enthusiastic cooperation of states in those aspects of the courts’ work which appear to align with the goals of securing convictions; investigating and preparing cases, evidence collection, and facilitating the arrest and surrender of accused. In short, support for the “front-end” of international justice, and the work of the Office of the Prosecutor.
The problem is that criminal trials are not an exercise in convicting defendants. When conducted fairly, criminal trials are a narrow and almost clinical exercise wherein finders of fact determine whether the prosecuting authority has met its burden of proof on each of the elements of the charged crimes. This is, necessarily, an exercise that can end in one of two possible outcomes, an acquittal or a conviction. However, when convictions are considered to be the goal of international justice, acquittals are then seen as being failures, or as something having gone wrong.
I experienced this most acutely following the acquittal of the former Vice President of the Congo, Mr. Jean-Pierre Bemba. Having been convicted at first instance and sentenced to 18 years imprisonment, Mr. Bemba’s conviction was then overturned on appeal by a majority of the ICC Appeals Chamber. At the time of his release in June 2018, I had been representing Mr. Bemba for nearly a decade, in a trial and appeal process that had been long, exhausting, and rendered infamous by the prosecution and conviction of his former case manager and co-counsel for offences against the administration of justice.
The outrage that greeted Mr. Bemba’s acquittal and release was impossible to predict, and equally impossible to navigate. The poison and vitriol directed towards him, his defense team, the prosecutors who had apparently failed in their duty to secure a conviction, and even the majority Judges who had orchestrated this apparent travesty of justice, was prolonged and personal. When we reflect now years later on this reaction, it seems that much comes down to the widely held understanding that international criminal trials are successful when they result in convictions. Shortly after Mr. Bemba’s release, for example, we saw one of the ICC’s greatest supporters, Japan, expressing its deep concern about ICC acquittals, and urging the ICC to take steps “to prevent such unusual circumstances from happening again”.
When states and institutions treat any outcome short of a conviction as a failure, justice becomes distorted. There will be cases which properly result in acquittals. For these to be treated by states as a failure, means that we have moved away from a criminal trial process, and towards an exercise in simply securing convictions. Victims and affected communities deserve accountability in order to move forward, but this justice must be meaningful. The quality and independence of justice—its evenhandedness, its integrity—is what gives it meaning for victims.
Meaningful justice does not come from prosecuting the easiest targets or securing convictions at any cost. It comes from ensuring that every trial is robust, balanced, and rooted in due process—supporting not only the voices of victims, but also the rights of the accused. Rather than securing convictions, the goal of international criminal justice is fair trials—trials that include a rigorous and independent defense, and where the outcome is determined by impartial fact-finders and led by the evidence.
The Impact of Selective State Support on Fair Trials
For these reasons, state support for international justice is overwhelmingly directed towards efforts to investigate and prosecute, to the detriment of the other aspects of an international criminal trial. This impacts on the efficacy of defense teams in many ways.
Investigations
Central to the role of defense counsel is conducting effective investigations. From my own experience, I can say unequivocally: cases rise and fall depending on the quality of the investigations. Proper investigations must be able to involve gathering evidence, visiting the location of the charged crimes, interviewing witnesses, and verifying the facts that form the foundation of the trial. The ability to conduct unimpeded investigations is central to our work in defending clients. All these investigative tasks require, at a minimum, authorization from states.
States respond differently to the defense because prosecutors investigate with the weight and authority of the court behind them. A letter from the Office of the Prosecutor carries institutional power and is more likely to receive cooperation from states. Defense teams, by contrast, face enormous challenges in securing the same level of cooperation. At the ICC, defense teams are required to submit any request for investigative assistance (RFAs) through the Registry, which adds another level of bureaucracy and delay. Then, according to ICC Registry’s own statistics, 75% of defense requests for cooperation of state parties go unanswered, reflecting the reality that states do not see it as part of their cooperation with the ICC to assist the efforts of defense teams to investigate on behalf of their clients.
In simple terms, if the defense is unable to visit physical sites, interview prisoners, access archives or sensitive records, or speak to victims, we cannot adequately challenge the prosecution’s case or build a meaningful response on behalf of the accused. A huge part of our work, and our ability to contribute to the fairness of the trials, is undermined.
There is also an issue of security. In the Bemba case, for example, the defense was unable to investigate in the Central African Republic, being the country in which the crimes were alleged to have occurred. As such, we tried to speak with Central Africans who had been in the country at the time of the events, but had since moved outside the country, and were living in neighboring countries like Chad, Cameroon, or the Central African Republic. The problem being, these were not ICC States Parties, and did not recognize the authority of the Court, or the privileges and immunities of defense counsel. An official letter from the ICC stating that we are on mission carries little to no weight there, meaning that as defense lawyers we are investigating in a situation of significant personal risk.
This stands in stark contrast to investigations at earlier tribunals like the ICTY and ICTR, which were established under Chapter VII of the UN Charter. In Rwanda and the former Yugoslavia we were always safe. During official missions we had UN credentials, UN vehicles, UN security, and facilitated passage around these countries. That infrastructure does not exist for the ICC. Both prosecutors and the defense lack that level of institutional support or security. The impact is especially acute for defense as we are investigating outside of institutional infrastructures, and are often investigating actors that may be complicit in the alleged crimes.
Victim and Witness Cooperation
Another major challenge lies in engaging with witnesses and victim communities. In some situation countries, I have been overwhelmed by the willingness of victims and witnesses to meet, engage, and educate us about the conflict and atrocities they have suffered. This has not always been my experience. International criminal investigations regularly occur in the context of authority of the victor state whose narrative is being advanced through the trial process, and survivors know that there will be consequences from deviating from this official narrative, let alone from implicating the state authorities in criminal conduct. In this context, victims and witnesses have regularly refused to speak to those they perceive as working on behalf of the defense, which means we are investigating the side of the story that many are reluctant or afraid to tell.
This was my experience investigating in Rwanda. I had the privilege of representing three different accused before the ICTR in Arusha, in very different cases and contexts. In 2008, I was co-counsel to Jean-Baptiste Gatete, the former bourgmestre of Murambi commune in Rwanda during the genocide. He was accused of the murder of one of his neighbours in Murambi, and we had received credible information that he had not been involved. We managed to find and interview other direct neighbors who agreed to meet with us, and recounted in detail what had happened on the morning of the charged event, and their accounts corroborated the fact that our client was not present.
But when we asked them to provide witness statements, they refused to be involved and asked me never to tell anyone that I had spoken to them, or even to write down their names. They feared retaliation or ostracization. It was heartbreaking. I felt helpless, knowing that someone might be wrongfully convicted and I had no way to stop it. Prosecutors likely experience similar frustrations when they cannot secure needed evidence. But the regularity with which we are blocked from conducting meaningful investigations in a state which has an interest in the conviction of their former military or political adversaries is another concrete obstacle arising from selective state support.
Exclusion and Funding
Defense teams at the ICTY and ICTR received sufficient resources and funding to effectively represent their clients. This is not the case at the ICC. This is not simply a question of the dramatic decrease in the resources made available to defense teams. This stripping back of resources is part of a larger structural problem, being the marginalization of the defense within international justice institutions. Defense counsel are systematically excluded from key forums, including the Assembly of States Parties. We are denied the opportunity to speak to states about the obstacles the defense faces or to advocate for changes that would improve the fairness and legitimacy of trials. This ensures that legal aid, set by the Assembly of States Parties, remains at insufficient levels, hindering our ability to effectively do our jobs.
A solution here is for states to be sensitized to these issues and to the people and work of the defense. We are not “pro-perpetrator.” We are part of the legal process that tests the evidence, guards against wrongful conviction, and ultimately strengthens the credibility of the courts. If we are excluded from the conversations regarding the work of the Court, or not given the tools and support to do our jobs, then the entire international justice project suffers.
Forgotten Outcomes: Life Before and After Trial
When states limit their support to the front-end of international criminal trials, international courts lose the ability to secure support for other integral aspects of the trial process, such as the provisional release of suspects or defendants, or their re-integration into society after their release. This requires defense counsel to spend years providing pro bono support and assistance to clients who come out of the end of an international criminal justice process which renders them stateless, homeless, and with no hope of reuniting with their families. This has been the consistent reality for many former suspects and accused, including those who have been acquitted by the courts, or even released without charges ever having been confirmed. The international courts’ inability to secure state support for defendants is one of the overarching failures of the international criminal justice system which risks damaging the legacy of its proceedings.
Pre-Trial Detention
While states are often eager to support high-profile arrests and the detention of individuals accused of international crimes, the same level of support does not exist for other aspects of the trial process. One of these aspects is provisional release. The case of Maxime Mokom provides a stark example. Mr. Mokom was arrested on the basis of an ICC arrest warrant in March 2022, and held in pre-trial incarceration for 19 months as a suspect, despite no charges ever being confirmed against him. According to the Rome Statute, pre-trial detention requires credible concerns that a suspect might flee or interfere with the justice process.
In Mr. Mokom’s case, there was no such evidence. As such, in March 2023, he was deemed eligible by the Pre-Trial Chamber for provisional release with standard conditions: a host state to receive him and regular check-ins with local authorities. But not one of the ICC’s 125 member states saw it as their responsibility to facilitate his provisional release. As such, he remained in prison for no other reason but the selective support of ICC States Parties.
As his defense team, we contacted the Assembly of States Parties and met with individual member states, emphasizing that Mr. Mokom’s continued detention was unlawful and constituted a violation of his rights. Yet no state saw it as their role to facilitate his release. The result? A suspect who was never charged remained in ICC detention for 19 months, until the Prosecution withdrew all charges, citing an absence of available evidence, and stating that there were no longer any viable prospects for conviction. If the ICC has no ability to facilitate provisional release, then it is unable to perform one of its core functions. The result being that there is no prospect of provisional release for ICC suspects and defendants, even those who do not fulfill the statutory grounds for pre-trial incarceration. The practical impact of selective state support is concrete, and significant.
Post-Acquittal Release
In international criminal justice, there is an understandable focus on the trial itself. Yet, the full range of outcomes for accused persons goes far beyond a trial. Some suspects are held in pre-trial detention for years only to have the charges dropped. Others are acquitted of all charges, or later on appeal. Some are convicted and serve short sentences, and others long sentences. In certain cases, individuals have been first acquitted of particular charges, and later convicted of these charges on appeal. These divergent outcomes are an inherent part of any fair legal process, but what follows them reveals deep flaws in how the international community treats those it once detained.
We can see from experience that the international courts and tribunals have never consistently put in place a plan for what happens to the defendant after the trial ends, particularly where the trial ends in an acquittal or a sentence that does not result in the defendant dying in prison. The system is unresponsive to the issues of return, reintegration, and the basic protection of rights for those released. Statelessness becomes an issue, particularly for defendants who fear persecution, retaliation, or illegal detainment if they return to their country of citizenship. Many of these individuals are unable to rejoin their families, live normal lives, or access basic services. Some are left without identity documents, legal status, or any institutional support. The human cost of this apathy is significant.
Turning back, for example, to the case of Mr. Mokom, where the ICC Prosecutor withdrew the charges after 19 months of pre-trial detention. The withdrawal of charges led to Mr. Mokom’s release from the ICC Detention Facility. It did not, however, put him back in the position he had been in prior to his arrest and surrender to The Hague. Unable to safely return to the Central African Republic, Mr. Mokom is stateless, homeless, and survives only with the aid of local church groups while he waits to see if he is able to secure asylum in a safe third state. This, despite the ICC Registry sending numerous Requests for Assistance to ICC States Parties asking them to provide him with a home. Although the charges were dismissed, the stigma of being an ICC suspect remains. His release offered neither freedom nor dignity, and has exposed him to a life of poverty and insecurity, and the potential inability to ever reunite with his family. Again, states do not see they have a role to play in this back-end of international justice, despite their cooperation being the only path for former suspects and accused.
Post-Trial Resettlement
The psychological toll of prolonged detention and the deprivation of liberty cannot be overstated. For those of us who have worked closely with detainees, we have seen firsthand how detention fundamentally changes people. Years in custody can leave deep mental health issues and negatively impact how the detainee functions in society. Even after release or acquittal, individuals face immense barriers in rebuilding their lives. Psychosocial and reintegration support, including assistance with employment and reunification with family, are all essential components of post-trial assistance, however today many of those released do not enjoy even basic freedoms.
The situation of the former ICTR defendants in Niger is a particularly troubling example. Despite its significant successes, a continued obstacle to the ICTR’s legacy is the ongoing statelessness of its acquitted and released people, six of whom have been stranded under house arrest in the Republic of Niger for several years. This crisis began on 5 December 2021, when nine ICTR acquitted or released persons were transferred to Niger by the International Residual Mechanism for Criminal Tribunals (IRMCT), pursuant to a Relocation Agreement between the government of the Republic of Niger and the United Nations, signed on 15 November 2021.
These former defendants, all of whom had been acquitted or had completed their sentences, had spent years in legal limbo in Arusha, Tanzania. Among them was my client, Mr. Prosper Mugiraneza, a Rwandan lawyer and former prosecutor, who has himself studied international law in Europe and was even admitted to the ICC's List of Assistants to Counsel. After a 9-year trial process, Mr. Mugiraneza was acquitted of all charges by the ICTR Appeals Chamber in 2013. Despite this, he remained isolated in a safehouse in Arusha for years without identity documents and without the ability to work or reunite with his family. No state would accept him. France, where his wife and children live, refused to offer him asylum.
A plan was eventually brokered to relocate the men to Niger, a plan that was negotiated without any input from the nine former defendants. They were promised residence permits, a pathway to legal identity documents, and a one-time payment of $10,000 USD. Despite the obvious risks, Mr. Mugiraneza saw this as his only hope to obtain a passport that would allow him to finally see his family again, decades after they had been separated. Just two weeks after arriving, they were arrested, likely due to pressure from the Rwandan government, and stripped of their documents. They have now been detained in a house in appalling conditions for three years, with no freedom of movement, little food, no air conditioning, and in constant risk of malaria. Two of the men have died in extremely distressing circumstances. Mr. Mugiraneza, though acquitted more than a decade ago, will likely die in this house. This is a result of the ICTR having no plan for those acquitted or released after serving their sentence.
When those acquitted by an international criminal court remain incarcerated despite their acquittals, this undermines the value of convictions, and accordingly the justice process itself. If the system can deprive a person of their liberty, but cannot restore it, then the legacy of these institutions is at stake. This gap has persisted for decades, and is a direct result of the failure to make any plans for what will happen to suspects and accused before their liberty is taken away. Social reintegration and protection of human rights and dignity of those released are integral parts of justice and accountability.
There is undoubtedly hypocrisy at play: states claim to champion human rights and support international justice, but their commitment ends at the prison gates. For many states, international criminal justice is seen primarily as a mechanism for punishment. Reintegration, rehabilitation, or even basic liberty for released individuals is then someone else’s problem. The message this sends is deeply troubling—if you are not convicted, you are still not free, and your rights are still negotiable. If states support human rights and international justice, then this should include giving those released a chance at a dignified life at the completion of the justice process.
Post-Trial Proceedings
In the aftermath of trials, much of the responsibility for finding solutions to post-trial issues falls on defense lawyers. International courts, however, provide funding for post-trial work only in very limited and exceptional circumstances. This leaves defense counsel bearing the burden of post-trial legal processes on their own, often without the necessary resources or institutional support. Unfortunately, there is a widespread assumption that these post-trial challenges are the defense lawyers’ problem, not the responsibility of the Tribunals themselves.
Unlike the Tribunal’s Registry, the President, or the court itself—who possess diplomatic clout and the power to engage governments—defense lawyers have no such leverage. We cannot simply walk into embassies or demand action from governments. Despite this, the international criminal courts rarely use their institutional power to support detainees after trials conclude. The expectation that defense counsel will devote years of unpaid, unresourced work to these complex issues is unrealistic and unfair. We continue, however, to advocate for ourselves, our clients, and for legal aid that covers post-trial support through publications, events, and continuing to raise awareness about these issues with states.
Ways Forward
Ensuring the Rights of the Accused
Even putting to one side those states who actively and publicly seek to undermine the work of international courts, the work of these institutions is compromised by the selective support of its proponents. States’ focus on the front end of criminal trials, and viewing the defense as an obstacle to the goals of international criminal justice, is arguably the greatest risk to the overall fairness and legitimacy of the resulting criminal process. The deprivation of liberty without a clear plan for reintegration risks not only the wellbeing of defendants but also the legacy of the work that so many of us have dedicated our professional careers to.
Solutions are available. When tribunals arrest and detain individuals, they should also develop a long-term plan for the defendant if and when they are released. This plan should include assistance to help the former defendant rebuild their lives and reintegrate into society once their time in custody ends. Tribunals need to leverage their political and diplomatic authority to ensure that those who have been detained have access to essential support upon release. This includes assistance in securing identity documents, work permits, asylum status, psychosocial care, and housing.
A fundamental part of this process also requires adequate legal aid funding, including for post-conviction matters. Institutionalizing these protections and support mechanisms is crucial not only to uphold the rights of defendants but also to preserve the integrity and humanity of international criminal justice as a whole. The ICC’s legal aid policy must also be revised to ensure that defense teams have the necessary resources to give meaning to the equality of arms as between the Prosecution and the Defense. The international courts must dedicate resources to engaging with states about the importance of their support and cooperation to the defense, to allow it to fulfill its responsibilities effectively.
At the institutional level, greater inclusion of defense lawyers is essential, along with work to dismantle existing structural and logistical obstacles. Defense counsel must have a seat at the table, not just in the courtroom, but in policy discussions, institutional planning, and operational support. When international and hybrid courts are established, the structure and policies put in place must safeguard the ability of both the prosecution and defense teams to carry out their mandates safely and effectively. That includes protecting the security of personnel and ensuring field investigations are possible.
Equally important is a shift in how we talk about the work of international criminal justice, including its aims, culture, and the role of the defense in it. When those most affected by international crimes come to see these tribunals as biased or one-sided, the credibility of both individual trials and the Tribunals is placed at risk. What is needed is a cultural shift, both among states and within international institutions, away from a focus on convictions as the principal marker of success.
The goal must be fair trials, where the evidence is tested rigorously and impartially, and international courts are found to be neutral and independent forums capable of delivering accountability that is accepted as legitimate by all sides. This requires states to reconsider their obligations to international justice and to recognize that cooperation with the defense is just as important to the overall legitimacy of the criminal justice process as cooperation with the prosecution.
Only by addressing these structural imbalances and recalibrating the culture of international justice can we ensure that these courts fulfill their promise—not as tools of victor’s justice or symbolic punishment, but as genuine forums of accountability for victims.