Defending before the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda
An Interview with Philippe Larochelle
Edited by Cailan Cumming, Kate Gibson & Paul R. Williams
A Note on Defending Justice
This blog is part of the Defending Justice series, an initiative of the Public International Law and 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
Philippe Larochelle, widely regarded as one of the leading lawyers in international criminal defense, has built his career representing clients in some of the most complex and high-profile international cases. The ability to navigate political and procedural challenges of international law quickly positioned him as a key figure in the international defense field. His commitment to due process, fairness, and the protection of fundamental legal rights, even in cases where public sentiment strongly favored conviction, has built his reputation across multiple international tribunals, including the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR), International Criminal Court (ICC), and the Special Tribunal for Lebanon. This blog explores the challenges and lessons that emerged from his particular set of cases before the ICTR. Through Larochelle’s setbacks and triumphs within the world’s second international tribunal, readers get a glimpse into the case preparation and trial process for these complex cases, and better understand the way in which these tribunals shape the legacies of conflict. Through Larochelle’s stories one thing becomes clear: uncovering the truth can only be accomplished through objective institutions, counsel, and judges; strong standards of evidence and procedure; expeditious trials; and stronger mechanisms to assess victims and witnesses.
Introduction
I became involved with the ICTR at a time when international criminal defense required both common law training and fluency in French. As a native of Quebec, I found that this combination of abilities positioned several Canadian lawyers to take on key roles as defense counsel at the Tribunal. It was in this environment that I began working alongside a group of lawyers who would go on to shape the practice of international criminal defense.
One of my most formative cases was that of my first client, Jérôme Bicamumpaka, a Rwandan government official accused of genocide, conspiracy to commit genocide, and crimes against humanity. The case was particularly challenging due to the difficulties in proving individual criminal responsibility within the broader context of mass atrocities. Prosecutors alleged that Bicamumpaka, as Minister of Foreign Affairs in the interim government during the 1994 genocide, played a role in facilitating the violence. However, after years of legal battles, he was acquitted in 2011 due to insufficient evidence, a verdict that showed a failure to establish individual culpability from broader systemic crimes. This case profoundly influenced my understanding of international criminal defense and became a defining moment in my career, shaping my approach to defending individuals accused of mass atrocities for years to come.
I then defended Callixte Nzabonimana, a former Rwandan minister convicted of genocide in 2012. The ICTR found him personally responsible for inciting and organizing killings, particularly through public speeches encouraging violence, and his conviction was upheld on appeal in 2014, reinforcing the precedent of holding political figures accountable for speech that contributes to mass atrocities. In contrast, my work with client André Ntagerura, who was acquitted of genocide charges in 2004, focused on the significant challenge of assisting Ntagerura’s relocation, as acquitted defendants often face difficulties in resettlement after trials due to political and diplomatic blocks, or threats, to their relocation.
I also represented Jean De Dieu Ndagijimana, who was charged with contempt of court related to witness protection, following his role in facilitating the recantation of prosecution witnesses who had testified against Augustin Ngirabatware, but who years later wanted to give statements saying that their testimony had been false. More recently, I have representedf Fulgence Kayishema, a Rwandan genocide suspect who was recently detained in South Africa under an arrest warrant by the International Residual Mechanism for Criminal Tribunals. His potential extradition remains uncertain and raises questions regarding jurisdiction and fair trial rights, issues the defense team is currently working through.
Other cases I have taken on underscore the continued and extensive work that defense lawyers undertake post-conviction. The case of Gérard Ntakirutimana, a Rwandan doctor convicted of genocide and crimes against humanity in 2003, remains under review and certain elements of his case are being reconsidered. I also continue to support Dominique Ntawukuriryayo’s request for a reduced sentence, who was convicted of genocide by the ICTR in 2009 and sentenced to 25 years in prison.
This blog will further explore these cases, and I hope readers will gain insight into the day-to-day realities of international criminal defense, the evolving nature of post-conflict justice, and the lasting impact these trials have on both individual defendants and the broader field of international law.
International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda
The Rwandan genocide of 1994 remains one of the most tragic periods in modern history, deeply affecting both Rwanda and the international community. Over the course of approximately 100 days, an estimated one million people—primarily Tutsi, along with moderate Hutu and others who opposed the government—were killed in a wave of violence carried out by government forces, militia groups, and civilians. The genocide was the culmination of longstanding ethnic and political tensions, exacerbated by colonial history, economic disparities, and a period of civil war.
In the aftermath of the genocide, Rwanda faced the immense challenge of rebuilding its society while ensuring accountability for crimes committed. The scale of the violence, combined with the destruction of Rwanda’s judicial infrastructure, made it difficult to prosecute cases through domestic courts alone. In response, the United Nations established the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda on November 8, 1994, through Security Council Resolution 955. Headquartered in Arusha, Tanzania, the ICTR was tasked with prosecuting individuals responsible for genocide, war crimes, and crimes against humanity, focusing on high-ranking officials, military leaders, and key organizers of the violence.
Beyond its prosecutions, the ICTR played a critical role in developing international legal precedent. In 1998, it issued the first-ever conviction for genocide in an international court with the Jean-Paul Akayesu case, which also set an important precedent by recognizing rape as an act of genocide. The tribunal also addressed the role of hate media in inciting violence, convicting individuals found to be responsible for the broadcasts of Radio Télévision Libre des Mille Collines (RTLM) and other propaganda outlets that played a role in encouraging mass killings.
In 2015, the ICTR officially completed its work, having adjudicated dozens of cases. However, its remaining functions were transferred to the International Residual Mechanism for Criminal Tribunals (UN-IRMCT), which is currently concluding its work to oversee appeals, enforce sentences, and locate fugitives. The UN-IRMCT continues to handle ongoing legal matters, including cases like that of my client Fulgence Kayishema, who was detained in South Africa and awaits potential extradition.
The ICTR’s legacy extends beyond Rwanda. It contributed to the establishment of legal principles that continue to guide international criminal law, influenced the development of the International Criminal Court, and reinforced the importance of accountability for mass atrocities in post-conflict states. At the same time, its flaws, highlighted throughout this blog, remind us that the creation and implementation of international criminal justice frameworks must continue to be reformed to fulfill the promises set out by the international justice project.
Case Preparation
I will never forget my first encounter with the case file of my first case, Jérôme Bicamumpaka. The allegations were gruesome and grave. Yet, when I met Bicamumpaka, I was presented with a polite, articulate man—well dressed and measured in speech. Reconciling this outward demeanor with the horrific accusations in the file proved difficult at first. But it was also an important first lesson regarding the nature of defense: to look beyond first impressions, confront personal preconceptions, and maintain objectivity. My role was not to react emotionally to the allegations, but to get to know the deeper truths of the client: understand his story and the conflict that led to my client’s arrest. With limited knowledge of the Rwandan genocide, I immersed myself in the complex historical, social, and legal context of the conflict, having to adapt quickly to the new context and new legal system of the ICTR.
As I began building a defense strategy, the early meetings with the client were pivotal. Working through the details of the case and walking through each charge was an important first step, and proved to be key to Bicamumpaka’s defense. Bicamumpaka claimed not to have been present at the times and places of the alleged crimes, and it became clear that he had an alibi to support these claims. In fact, Bicamumpaka maintained that he had been trying to help de-escalate the situation from abroad during key periods of the genocide. Amongst such serious allegations, I found myself drawn into the evidence, trying to understand what had really taken place. We were able to call a Belgian Minister as a witness, who testified that Bicamumpaka was in Belgium during one of the events he was accused of orchestrating and supported the fact that Bicamumpaka was actually working to garner international help for Rwanda during the genocide while he was abroad.
Examining the extensive evidence with the client can also help to identify inconsistencies and expose weaknesses in the prosecution’s evidence. For example, during Bicamumpaka’s first interview with the prosecution, he provided an alibi for specific crimes he was accused of, which the prosecution failed to remember. During the trial, the prosecution continued to present arguments that overlooked this key information—information that was later presented by the defense—leading to obvious gaps in the credibility of the prosecution’s case.
Throughout this process I benefited greatly from the support and camaraderie of the international legal community in Arusha, Tanzania, where the Tribunal was located. For a young lawyer, the weight of responsibility was immense, but the experience was transformative. I was deeply involved in the investigative aspects of the case and grew rapidly through direct engagement with witnesses, files of evidence, and defense strategy. It was in this demanding but collaborative environment that my commitment to defense work developed, and where I learned that effective defense begins not with certainty, but with humility, persistence, and the willingness to listen.
The Nature of Complex International Crimes Cases
The scope of the crimes dealt with in international tribunals is so vast that it can be difficult to comprehend. The crimes committed almost feel immaterial because of their magnitude. These cases are not isolated events but involve the horrors of genocides, mass atrocities, and the suffering of entire populations. Consequently, the evidence presented in such cases is often overwhelming, and it becomes increasingly difficult to apply the usual, rational standards of evidence typically seen in other legal proceedings.
A significant challenge in international criminal cases is the reliance on witness or victim testimony as a principal form of evidence. While these testimonies may be grounded in real, traumatic experiences, they often fail to meet the threshold of ‘beyond a reasonable doubt.’ However, rather than the prosecution having to prove ‘beyond a reasonable doubt’, the burden often falls on defense counsel to actively prove their client’s innocence to secure an acquittal. This shift in burden of proof, in my experience, creates an inherently biased environment for the accused, with presumption of guilt often outweighing the presumption of innocence.
In several of my cases the defense was faced with testimonies where the victim’s suffering was undoubtedly real, but the evidence connecting the accused to the crimes was non-existent. The Bicamumpaka case, for example, relied heavily on witness testimonies that lacked the necessary corroboration or, at its worst, was manufactured in order to fit a false narrative of the accused. The judges, in some cases, did not adhere to rules of evidence, but rather assessed evidence as the trial progressed, making it hard for the defense to anticipate how evidence would be treated and making it more difficult to build a case.
The reliability of witnesses is another major challenge that defense counsel contend with. I recall the story of one witness who, after being informed he could not seek asylum after testifying in a case in Canada, recanted his previous testimony—revealing that he had lied to further his interest in gaining asylum. This example highlights the serious issue of witness manipulation, especially when victims and witnesses are offered benefits such as reduced sentences in their home countries or asylum in exchange for testifying. Some witnesses have admitted to fabricating stories to make themselves more credible to gain access to compensation and other benefits.
What is more, many of the witnesses are anonymous, which presents difficulties in verifying their testimonies, their credibility as a witness, and tracking their testimonies across multiple cases. There have been instances where witnesses recanted their statements, yet those recantations could not be used to reopen or reassess a case unless the other testimonies also changed. This dynamic can lead to wrongful convictions, especially when false testimony goes unchecked or is shielded by anonymity.
Beyond evidentiary challenges, there is also the issue of bias towards the prosecution. Many of the judges of international tribunals are not seasoned jurists but diplomats who may not have the requisite experience to assess evidence impartially. This lack of qualification, combined with a tendency to favor the prosecution, can result in judgements that do not reflect the reality of the evidence presented. I believe there are some cases in which judges have appeared to let their personal feelings about the victims’ suffering cloud their judgment, making it harder for them to maintain the required objectivity. Faced with a flood of testimony detailing unimaginable atrocities, it is understandably difficult to remain impartial, but impartiality is precisely what justice demands.
Additionally, the long duration of these trials, with some lasting over a decade, severely impacts the integrity of the cases. Memories fade, evidence becomes stale, and the accused are subjected to years of legal uncertainty. In my experience, protracted legal proceedings often infringe on the rights of the accused. In one such example, one of my clients spent several months in prison, only to have his charges dismissed after an argument that only lasted three hours, meaning that he had been unjustly detained without sufficient grounds.
To address these issues, an independent review of evidence before indictment should be conducted, as seen in the case of Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, where ICC Chief Prosecutor Karim Khan convened a panel of external legal experts to review the evidence he ultimately used to support his application for arrest. This would ensure that charges are based on credible and verified evidence, reducing the likelihood of wrongful prosecutions. Additionally, there should be stronger standards for assessing victims and witnesses to avoid manipulation, ensure that testimonies are accurate, and verify that the testimony is linked to the client. Moreover, victim reparations should not be tied directly to the outcome of criminal trials, as this creates an inherent conflict of interest that may lead to fabricated testimonies. Lastly, I argue for the establishment of clear and fair rules of evidence, which should be consistently followed by all judges. Only by adhering to these principles can the integrity of the tribunal and the pursuit of justice be preserved.
Legacy of the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda
The International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda was established with the mandate to prosecute those most responsible for the 1994 genocide, to end impunity, and to help establish a historical record of the events. However, the legacy it leaves behind is one mired in contradiction—where the pursuit of justice became inseparable from the pursuit of political objectives.
Rwanda, under the leadership of the Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF), quickly understood how to wield the ICTR as a tool of lawfare. It used the tribunal to legitimize its own narrative of the genocide while shielding its crimes from scrutiny. When international investigators attempted to look into acts like the downing of President Habyarimana’s plane—a critical trigger for the genocide—Rwanda impeded efforts to investigate. The Rwandan Patriotic Front continually refused to provide witnesses or evidence and instead turned over only political opponents. The tribunal, lacking enforcement power and dependent on Rwanda for access, effectively became complicit in this selective justice.
International tribunals have the capacity to shape domestic and global political landscapes for decades. Once an individual is indicted, regardless of guilt, their political and social life is effectively over. The Rwandan government has long exploited this reality, feeding narratives to the media, fueling continued arrests, and portraying all members of the pre-genocide Hutu political elite—ministers, préfets, military leaders—as inherently culpable, regardless of their actual role in the genocide. While some may indeed have played a role in the genocide, the concern lies in how the Rwandan Patriotic Front, led by Paul Kagame, has fabricated or distorted evidence against those not involved to attribute a blanket collective responsibility on the Hutu political elite from before the genocide. Ultimately implicating them based not on actions but on influence and perceived political threat, hence using the tribunal to eliminate the Rwandan Patriotic Front’s main threats to power.
This manipulation hollowed out the ICTR’s intended impartiality. Rather than establishing a comprehensive factual record of the genocide, the tribunal was instrumentalized to reinforce a singular, simplistic version: one in which Hutu extremists were the sole perpetrators, and the Rwandan Patriotic Front were the liberators. The reality, however, was far more complex and the genocide was perpetrated by a diverse group of people. Atrocities were committed by a range of actors, including the Rwandan Patriotic Front, yet none of its members were ever indicted. The tribunal’s promise to hold “those most responsible” to account was not fully realized. Instead, it has been seen by some as granting a degree of impunity to the Rwandan Patriotic Front and President Kagame’s regime, effectively legitimizing their control, justifying their actions, and limiting the voices of its critics.
Rwanda has also leveraged foreign domestic jurisdictions to target its opponents. In Canada, for instance, the government prosecuted Jacques Mungwarere, an alleged Rwandan genocide suspect, under universal jurisdiction, which was Canada’s last criminal trial of this kind. Since then, Canada has largely moved away from complex criminal prosecutions, favoring administrative laws instead. By relying on lower-threshold immigration standards such as a “reasonable belief” of involvement in atrocities, authorities have deported alleged perpetrators, a shift Rwanda has capitalized on by using these mechanisms to pursue political dissidents living abroad.
These failures have lasting consequences. The selective justice, and selective narrative, perpetrated by the ICTR undermines confidence in the legitimacy of both convictions and acquittals. The ICTR’s findings are now cited to justify Rwanda’s current foreign policy, including its support for the M23 rebel group and its military presence and crimes committed in the eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo. Western states, still constrained by guilt over their inaction during the genocide, continue to give Rwanda a wide berth. The power of the narrative produced by the tribunal has outlived the tribunal itself, shaping international politics decades later.
Justice Richard Goldstone, the first Chief Prosecutor of the ICTY and ICTR, articulated five goals of the tribunals, often referred to as the ‘Goldstone Five’: deterrence, establishing a historical record, victim catharsis and justice, ending impunity, and contributing to peace and reconciliation. Overall, the ICTR has fallen short of the goals laid out by the Chief Prosecutor; however, there is hope that future tribunals can deliver on these goals if key questions are addressed and substantial reforms are implemented.
The Future of International Criminal Tribunals
Looking forward, the international justice system must confront these uncomfortable realities. The manipulation of evidence, reliance on questionable witnesses, and failure to prosecute powerful actors are not problems unique to the ICTR—they are recurring flaws that continue to plague tribunals, including the ICC. The Timor-Leste tribunal provides a compelling precedent. A special expert committee was established to assess the justice delivered, eventually reopening some cases in which they believed that justice had not been served. A similar approach should be applied to the ICTR and future international tribunals. Allowing for independent review of the work of the tribunal would be a meaningful step toward restoring legitimacy and true justice to the victims. However, international tribunals are unwilling to admit fault in order to protect their legacy, and residual mechanisms are interested in closing the work and the history books.
Today, the UN-IRMCT, the successor to the ICTR, is winding down. But the same ethical and legal questions remain unresolved. Take the case of Fulgence Kayishema. Although the UN-IRMCT has pushed for his extradition from South Africa, it has no intention of trying him itself. Instead, it seeks to send him to Rwanda, despite well-documented risks that he may not receive a fair trial. South Africa is hesitant knowing that he may be sent to Rwanda given the country’s history of assassinating political opponents on South African soil and refusing to turn those responsible over.
These dilemmas raise urgent questions about the long-term design of international justice mechanisms. I find it legally and ethically incompatible with the UN-IRMCT’s mandate and jurisdiction to arrest individuals only to transfer them over to the referral state, especially when due process cannot be guaranteed in the state. I am also concerned with the prospect of handing over the court’s archives, an essential repository of history and evidence, to a government that has shown a willingness to manipulate history and suppress dissent. As the UN-IRMCT prepares to close its doors, these unprecedented challenges have exposed the overall lack of foresight and long-term planning when first establishing the ICTR.
Looking at the long-term future of international criminal justice, I hold the same opinion as many defense lawyers, that at the ICC arrest warrants should be issued and publicized with great care, not symbolically or for political effect. Issuing warrants without realistic prospects for enforcement, such as the ICC’s warrant for Vladimir Putin, weakens the legitimacy of the entire system. Worse, the legacy of selective justice in many situation countries has eroded public trust in international tribunals, prompting some to view such warrants as politicized instruments rather than impartial legal measures, thereby reframing individuals like Putin as targets of geopolitical bias rather than perpetrators of international crimes.
Finally, and critically, we must continually reassess the very model of international criminal justice. Is a traditional courtroom—where a single suspect stands trial for atrocities affecting thousands of victims—the best structure for addressing such massive and complex crimes? So far, efforts to centralize victim suffering into one symbolic trial have not achieved the goals of victim catharsis and justice. These shortcomings should be a central consideration in the design of future international tribunals.
Justice must not operate in isolation from the societies it seeks to serve; it must work in tandem with domestic efforts and remain rooted in the lived experiences of affected communities. The international justice project is far from perfect, but its deep flaws are precisely why it must be preserved and reformed—not abandoned. Moving forward requires the humility to learn, the courage to evolve, and the resolve to repair what is broken.
Conclusion
International criminal tribunals are among the most complex and challenging legal environments in the world. The crimes they address are extraordinary in scale and scope, requiring legal practitioners to operate in equally extraordinary ways. Defense counsel, in particular, must navigate a system where traditional legal frameworks are stretched, where the political context shapes the courtroom, and where the weight of history looms over every decision.
This chapter has traced the unique legacy of the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda, highlighting how international tribunals do not merely adjudicate facts—they also shape historical memory, political narratives, and international relations. In doing so, they carry immense responsibility. Yet, as we have seen, this responsibility can be compromised when justice is politicized, when the rights of the accused are overshadowed by prosecutorial bias, or when credibility in evidence and witness testimony is sacrificed for expediency.
These challenges demand not only legal expertise, but also resilience, creativity, and ethical fortitude. They demand defense teams that can operate with extreme adaptability—developing unique strategies, cultivating deep knowledge of both law and the local context, and holding their ground in a professional landscape that is often politically charged and emotionally fraught.
Tribunals can play a vital role in building peace, establishing historical truth, and promoting reconciliation. But as the ICTR has demonstrated, they can also be weaponized for political gain, producing partial narratives and reinforcing impunity when justice is selectively applied. The cost of these failures is not merely legal—it is human. It is borne by victims denied the full truth, by accused persons denied a fair trial, and by entire societies burdened with unresolved histories.
Looking ahead, the international legal community must critically reflect on the shortcomings of the ICTR and implement reforms to improve the international justice system. Specific reforms include:
Establishing independent expert committees to assess evidence and review problematic cases.
Applying stronger and clearer standards for evaluating the credibility and testimonies of witnesses and victims.
Selecting judges with proven qualifications, legal rigor, objectivity, and sensitivity to the broader social and political dynamics at play.
Strengthening due process protections and upholding the fundamental rights of the accused.
Reducing excessive delays in trials and delivering timely judgments.
Carefully reviewing evidence before issuing indictments, rather than relying on quantity or political pressure.
Ensuring that, after release, acquitted or freed individuals can access safe relocation options, including family reunification, work, and residency rights in safe third countries.
Defense counsel will remain at the heart of this effort, not only as advocates but as guardians of justice in a system that too often struggles to balance law with politics and truth with power.