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LifeSite News Special Report - February 1, 2002
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Ramifications of The International Criminal Court for War, Peace And Social Change

Richard G. Wilkins1 Professor of Law and Managing Director, The World Family
Policy Center J. Reuben Clark Law School, Brigham Young University

For complete version with footnotes see
http://www.lifesite.net/waronfamily/UN/ICC_Ramifications.pdf
(requires Adobe Acrobat and postscript printer driver for printer)

INTRODUCTION

The Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court (or "Rome Statute") was
adopted at a high-level diplomatic conference in Rome, Italy, on July 17,
1998. As of February 5, 2002, the statute has been ratified by 52 nations,
and will go into force once 60 nations have affirmed it. This event
culminated a decades-long effort to establish a permanent judicial body to
prosecute international crimes, and represents a dynamic shift in
international politics.2 The Rome Statute purports to create a judicial
mechanism with jurisdiction potentially reaching every individual on the
face of the earth, whether or not that individual resides in (or is a
citizen of) a country that has ratified the statute. Furthermore, the Rome
Statute is seen by many pressure groups as (perhaps) the principal means of
enforcing the multitude of human rights norms generated by the United
Nations conference system.

Whether the Rome Statute's creation of the International Criminal Court (or
"the Court") should be lauded or deplored is certainly debatable. It is
quite easy to support the general notion of an international criminal court.
After all, the Rome Statute ostensibly deals only with deplorable offenses:
genocide, war crimes, and crimes against humanity and aggression.
International Criminal Court supporters, furthermore, fervently believe that
the Court will deter and punish the commission of these detestable acts.3 It
is hard (if not impossible) to argue against such objectives. No
compassionate person wishes to increase the burden of human suffering in the
world. I wish I could report that the Rome Statute, as drafted, will end war
or greatly reduce its probability. That is undoubtedly the primary goal of
the Court's supporters. But, wanting to do the right thing is not enough.
One must also do the right thing the right way. The Rome Statute, I fear,
does not. Instead of red! ucing the likelihood of war, the Rome Statute may
make future conflict more, rather than less, likely.

This Article addresses what I perceive to be the primary problems and
dangers posed by the Court as currently structured. Despite the best
intentions of the Court founders, the Rome Statute transfers a vast amount
of decision making authority from previously sovereign nations to an
international court that will be remote (and unable to be controlled by or
accountable) to the diverse peoples and cultures of the world. It does so by
means of vague statutory language, capable of expansion to include conduct
well beyond that which (at present) is considered to be within the customary
reach of "genocide," "war crimes," and "crimes against humanity." The
Court's structure also permits pressure groups to obtain ready influence
over prosecutorial functions. The net result of this foundation is that the
Court has potential to lose its stated primary focus upon the worst crimes
of international concern and instead, as current international events
demonstrate, may only make it more di! fficult to negotiate a peaceful end
to certain crises and existing social problems without reducing the
necessity for the occasional use of force. Finally, under the Court's
universal and complementary jurisdiction, the Court can and probably will
attempt to change social norms in sometimes troublesome areas not admitting
of a single, world-wide solution. Should the Court's judges attempt to
impose values contrary to or insensitive to the various cultures of the
world - a very real possibility - the Court may well make future conflicts
inevitable.

I. GENESIS OF THE INTERNATIONAL CRIMINAL COURT

In 1951, following the conclusion of the Nuremberg and Tokyo War Crime
Tribunals, a proposal was circulated among members of the newly formed
United Nations to create a permanent standing court.4 The proposed court
would be responsible for prosecuting grave crimes of international concern
committed in armed conflict. Nations of the world initially balked at the
idea of a permanent court because of the potential ramifications on
individual state sovereignty.5 The idea, however, continued to resurface
whenever the world was confronted with serious war-time crimes. Finally, at
the conclusion of the Gulf War in February 1991, the General Assembly of the
United Nations passed a resolution calling for the official creation of a
permanent criminal court to deal with war-related atrocities.6

Public pressure for the creation of a permanent court increased in the early
1990's as the world reacted to reported atrocities in Rwanda and the former
Yugoslavia. Informal meetings on the issue, commenced early in 1990,
ultimately resulted in a draft statute for the proposed International
Criminal Court. As that draft statute emerged, however, the mandate for the
proposed International Criminal Court slowly but steadily expanded. Instead
of dealing solely with well-established customary war crimes, the draft text
became a veritable handbook on emerging human rights law, weighted with
countless provisions never envisioned by the General Assembly's initial
resolution to create the Court.7 This complex and convoluted draft statute
was presented to U.N. delegates in Rome during the summer of 1998 for
finalization.

The draft statute presented to the diplomatic conference went well beyond
the initial draft prepared by the International Law Commission (or "ILC").
The ILC draft, for example, generally restricted the jurisdiction of the
proposed International Criminal Court to nations that had become a party to
the treaty creating the Court, and limited the substantive reach of the
Court to customarily recognized international crimes.8 The adopted Rome
Statute, however, went well beyond this (by comparison) modest proposal. The
Rome Statute created a court with hitherto unprecedented jurisdictional
reach and with substantive authority to adjudicate a long list of crimes
previously unknown to the established canon of customary international law.

II. THE INTERNATIONAL CRIMINAL COURT'S INTRUSION UPON DOMESTIC LAW

The jurisdiction claimed by the Court is unquestionably novel. Not since the
Treaty of Westphalia in 1648 has a treaty ever purported to bind parties who
are not signatories to the treaty. The Rome Statute, however, does just
that.

A. Universal Jurisdiction

As adopted, the Rome Statute asserts jurisdiction over defendants so long as
either "[t]he State on the territory of which" a crime was committed or
"[t]he State of which the person accused of the crime is a national" has
ratified the statute.9 Since the "commission" of a crime is generally
perceived as having the same location as its harmful effect, a decision in
one state to engage in conduct that has an impact in a second, ratifying
state, will subject that conduct to prosecution - even though the first
state has not ratified the Rome Statute. This notion is often referred to as
"inherent" or "universal" jurisdiction.

This concept of "inherent" or "universal" jurisdiction is very broad indeed.
Such jurisdiction supposedly confers power upon a nation to prosecute an
alleged criminal for an act regardless of where that act occurred and
whether or not the alleged criminal is a citizen of (or even present in) the
prosecuting state. Proponents of the Court often argue that this broad
notion of "universal" jurisdiction is well established.10 This assertion,
however, is unfounded.

Prior to the adoption of the Statute, various international theorists had
used the term "universal" to describe a state's power to prosecute a limited
class of exceptionally serious customary offenses, such as piracy, slave
trade, genocide and war crimes.11 Any use of the term "universal" to
describe a state's customary power over these crimes is highly questionable.
While there is sound support for the notion that all nations could prosecute
an individual for the crime of piracy - no matter where the crime of piracy
occurred or what the nationality of the pirate was12 - there is virtually no
evidence that states possess such broad jurisdictional power with regard to
any other offense.13

This notion of "universal" jurisdiction as adopted in the Rome Statute,
therefore, represents a clear departure from established international legal
theory. This departure, moreover, deals a serious blow to the concept of
national sovereignty. By asserting that the Court can claim jurisdiction
over a non-signatory state and its citizens, the Rome Statute makes an
unabashed claim of international supremacy over the actions of domestic
policymakers. Inherent in this claim is the alarming conclusion that the
Court, as an organ of international government, has the power to coerce and
command a (previously) sovereign state, regardless of that state's assent to
the treaty creating the Court. It has been standard law for centuries that
"[t]reaties cannot create obligations for states who are not parties."14 By
declaring the contrary, the Rome Statute (in the words of the Government of
India on the final night of the International Criminal Ccourt diplomatic
conference) has "claimed! a victim of its own - the Vienna Convention on the
Law of Treaties."15

Reason and prudence dictate against disregarding the established boundaries
of international law. The Court's expansive jurisdiction seriously endangers
the right of the people residing in nation-states throughout the world to
govern and order their own affairs and to respect and/or alter their own
cultural and religious traditions. This threat to national
self-determination should not be dismissed lightly.

B. Complementarity

The Rome Statute, according to its terms, is designed to be "complementary
to national criminal jurisdictions."16 As such, the Court is designed to
take jurisdiction only when a nation is "unwilling or unable" to act.17 This
language appears to protect national sovereignty, and is invoked by
proponents of the Court to calm concerns that the Court might seriously
intrude upon questions (such as culture and religious practice) that,
according to the UN Charter, are "within the domestic jurisdiction" of a
nation-state.18 But, while it sounds reassuring, the notion of
"complementarity" is a legal shadow. Rather than protecting national
sovereignty and local democratic self-determination, the concept of
"complementarity" operates much like an international supremacy clause. In
essence, it is a back-hand way of saying "the Court's laws govern" because
any time a nation departs from the Court's laws, that nation could be found
"unwilling" or "unable" to follow the Court's laws, th! ereby triggering
complementary jurisdiction. The Court's law and national law are
"complementary" only as long as national law does not conflict with the
Court. Under the Rome Statute, if a conflict exists national law must
recede.

The recently issued Manual for the Ratification and Implementation of the
Rome Statute explains that "the ICC is no ordinary international regulatory
or institutional body."19 Indeed, in order to comply with the dictates of
"complementarity," the manual asserts that "modifications" must be made to a
state's "code of criminal law and procedure, mutual legal assistance
legislation, extradition laws, and human rights legislation."20 Why?
Because, if national law diverges in any important detail from the law
established by the Rome Statute, that nation will invite the Court to step
in and take action. As the manual states, "should there be a conflict
between the ICC legislation and existing [state] legislation," international
law established under the Rome Statute "takes precedence."21 Accordingly,
the manual declares that "[i]t would be prudent" for states "to incorporate
all acts defined as crimes" into their own "national laws."22

Other Court advocates are even more blunt. A booklet issued by The Women's
Caucus for Gender Justice asserts that "ratification of the treaty creating
the Court will necessitate in many cases that national laws be in conformity
with the ICC Statute."23 The caucus states that implementation of the Rome
Statute will provide an opportunity for groups "all over the world to
initiate and consolidate law reforms . . . ."24 Indeed, the gender caucus
asserts that "[i]t is this aspect of the Court - the possibility of national
law reform - which may present the most far-reaching potential" for change
"in the long run."25 According to the Caucus, "States Parties will be
required to review their domestic criminal laws and fill in the gaps to
ensure that the crimes enumerated in the ICC Statute are also prohibited
domestically."26

The Court's complementary jurisdiction also invades a nation's domestic
affairs by making it more difficult to negotiate a peaceful end to certain
crises and existing social problems. In the past several decades, a pattern
emerges when looking at nations' peaceful transitions to democracy. Most of
those peaceful transitions involved non-prosecutorial approaches where
oppressive government leaders relinquished their power only in exchange for
some sort of amnesty, power-sharing agreement, or safety-in-exile
arrangement.27 In short, often "the ability to give dictators a face-saving
way out is an essential component of democratic change."28 In many
situations, the Rome Statute's complementarity effectively diminishes a
nation's ability to use non-prosecutorial approaches to effectuate a
peaceful change in power. The Court may view a nation using
non-prosecutorial approaches as being "unwilling" or "unable" to act.
Because of this triggering of the Court's jurisdiction, dictat! ors such as
Pinochet or the former leaders of Apartheid in South Africa would likely
have been unwilling to give up high levels of control and protection if
unrestrained international prosecution awaited them.

General Agosto Pinochet came to power in Chile following a 1973 governmental
coup. His human rights abuses while in power are notorious and well
documented. He ruled over Chile for more than 16 years, finally giving up
power after allowing, and losing, a free election in 1990. But Pinochet did
not peacefully leave office without some important chips in place. He only
left power after having secured for himself the position of "senator for
life" and enjoying parliamentary immunity from domestic prosecution .29 Only
recently did that immunity fall apart after Pinochet was prosecuted under
international law by a Spanish judge who prosecuted him for committing
"crimes against humanity" under a premise of universal jurisdiction.
Nevertheless, it is clear that Pinochet would not have left power peacefully
without some form of protection and immunity. The Rome Statute's
complementarity would severely restrict a nation's ability to negotiate
peaceful ends to certain crisis situati! ons.

South Africa's Truth and Reconciliation Commission ("TRC") is another
example of a country being able to choose for itself how to accomplish a
peaceful transition of power. The TRC was formed to peacefully end apartheid
in South Africa and was the result of a difficult political compromise
between "the broad amnesty that apartheid leaders sought and the
prosecutions proposed by the African National Congress, which would have
antagonized any hope of a peaceful transition."30 The TRC kept prosecution
as an option but offered amnesty to those apartheid leaders who came forward
and told the truth about their human rights abuses. South Africa's past
would undoubtedly be much bloodier today without the ability to offer a
limited form of amnesty to its former apartheid leaders.

By mentioning Pinochet and apartheid, I am not saying that turning our backs
and not prosecuting violators of human rights is good policy. I am saying
that countries should have the flexibility to handle their own crises in
their own way, including the ability to negotiate peaceful transitions to
power by offering amnesty and other face-saving options. The Rome Statute's
complementarity strips countries of this ability because those countries
would be found "unwilling" or "unable" to enforce the Rome Statute's
provisions.

In other words, national law must mirror the terms and conditions of the
Rome Statute, and ultimately the judicial decisions of the Court itself.
Otherwise, a state will find its law being circumvented by the Court, which
will take jurisdiction because that state will be found "unable" to act.
This is the process by which "complementarity," instead of a shield, becomes
a sword.

III. PROSECUTORIAL ABUSE

One of the most important characteristics of a sound judicial structure is
judicial impartiality.31 The prosecutorial structure established by the Rome
Statute raises serious concerns in this area. As adopted, the Rome Statute
grants the prosecutor "proprio motu" powers;32 that is, the prosecutor has
the power (subject only to review by a panel of the Court's judges) to
initiate an investigation and prosecution completely on his/her own
authority and without oversight or control by any national or international
power, with the exception of limited review by the Pre-Trial Chamber.33
While this provision was purportedly designed to prevent the prosecutor from
being swayed by "political" concerns, experience in the United States
suggests that there is more to fear from a politically unaccountable
prosecutor than from a politically accountable one.

Following the resignation of President Richard Nixon, the United States
embarked upon a well-intentioned experiment with proprio motu prosecutors.
Fearing that prosecutors under the control of the President would be unable
to prosecute effectively Executive Branch wrongdoers, the U.S. Congress
passed the Ethics in Government Act of 1978, which authorized the
appointment of "independent prosecutors."34 But, rather than demonstrating a
penchant for apolitical and unsullied prosecutions, the history of the
independent prosecutor's office demonstrated just the contrary. An
"independent" prosecutor may not be answerable to established political
organs, but such a prosecutor is (in fact) readily swayed by general
political currents, popular sentiments, and personal political
predilection.35 Accordingly, America's experiment with independent
prosecutors has now been abandoned.

In conformity with this experience, the United States (along with a few
other countries) argued that the Court's prosecutor should be permitted to
proceed only upon referral of a case by a nation/state or an appropriate
United Nations body.36 That proposal was rejected and the Rome Statute, as
drafted, confers expansive investigational and prosecutorial authority on
the prosecutor.

This broad prosecutorial power - rather than being immune to political
considerations - may be particularly subject to the most corrosive kinds of
political influence. Article 44 of the Statute allows the prosecutor to
accept the offer of "gratis personnel offered by States Parties,
intergovernmental organizations or non-governmental organizations. . . ."37
"Gratis personnel" are personnel paid for by third parties. But, while their
salary is paid by a third party, such personnel are nevertheless performing
the "work . . . of the organs of the Court."38 One can expect that many of
these "gratis personnel" will be supplied by well-funded international NGOs
who are hostile to religion and traditional values.39 An independent
prosecutor's office free from any real governmental control is dangerous
enough. An independent prosecutor's office staffed by NGOs with ideological
axes to grind is positively frightening.

IV. SOCIAL POLICY AND "CRIMINAL" ACTS

One might argue, "So what?" Even if the Rome Statute and the Court's
forthcoming judicial decisions supplant all conflicting national law, the
Court will only deal with "the most serious crimes of international
concern."40 Therefore, there is no real risk that international judges will
supplant the policy decisions of national legal systems in areas of true
domestic concern. The elastic terms and vague language of the Rome Statute,
however, suggest that the Court - rather than occupying itself solely with
genocide, mass murder and other similarly egregious acts - may become the
ultimate forum for the resolution of delicate questions of social policy.

The language of the Rome Statute is sweeping. Although the Statute purports
to reach only serious crimes, the potential breadth of the crimes set out in
articles 6, 7 and 8 of the Statute is limited largely by the imaginations of
international lawyers and the judicial restraint (or lack of it) that will
be exhibited by the judges on the Court. The crime of genocide, for example,
includes not only killing members of a "national, ethnical, racial or
religious group,"41 but also "causing serious . . . mental harm to members
of the group."42 As such, the Rome Statute's machinery conceivably could be
called into play to prosecute the racially and religiously charged rhetoric
often employed by both sides of the on-going dispute regarding a Palestinian
homeland in the Middle East. While no rational person approves of rhetoric
inspired by racial or religious animus, it is far from clear whether such
name-calling-contests qualify as "most serious crimes of international
concern."43

Of much greater concern are the potentially far-reaching "crimes against
humanity" set out in Article 7. The Statute condemns as "crimes against
humanity" such acts as murder, extermination, enslavement, forcible transfer
of population, torture, sexual slavery, persecution and "other inhumane
acts."44 These crimes certainly sound terrible, but the Rome Statute gives
very little guidance as to what these words actually prohibit. The practical
effect of this ambiguous language could conceivably result in a nation's
soldiers being hesitant to follow the commands of their superiors because
they fear potential prosecution under the vaguely defined crimes in the Rome
Statute.

For example, the crime of "persecution," as set out in the Statute and as
further refined in the recently issued "Elements of Crimes," condemns the
"severe deprivation" of a group's "fundamental rights."45 The crime of
"inhumane acts" criminalizes the infliction of "great suffering, or serious
injury to body or to mental or physical health, by means of an inhumane
act."46 What do these terms proscribe? At present, it is impossible to say
definitively. But, the arguments of some proponents for the Court suggest
that the reach of these proscriptions will be far broader than a quick
reading of the Rome Statute might suggest.

For example, the crime of "inhumane acts" is committed by the imposition of
"great suffering, or serious injury to body or to mental or physical
health." Rome Statute, Article 7(1)(k). The crime of "persecution" consists
simply of "the intentional and severe deprivation of fundamental rights
contrary to international law by reason of the identity of the group or
collectivity." Rome Statute, Article 7(1)(h); 7(2)(g). At present, no
international lawyer or jurist can predict with any certainty how far this
language might sweep. Recent discussions at international meetings, however,
suggest that such language could be used to completely refashion social
policy on a world-wide scale.

At the Special session of the General Assembly on HIV/AIDS held in June
2001, for example, the Executive Director of the Joint United Nations
Programme on HIV/AIDS, Peter Piot, and the UN's High Commissioner for Human
Rights, Mrs. Mary Robinson, issued a document entitled "HIV/AIDS and Human
Rights International Guidelines" that, among other things, called for (1)
repeal of all laws condemning homosexual sodomy, (2) legalization of
same-sex marriage, (3) mandatory and graphic sexual training of children,
and (4) creation of "legal penalties" for anyone who "vilifies" homosexual
behavior.47 The Guidelines claim that these developments were mandated by
established international "human rights and fundamental freedoms."48 As a
result, it is hardly far-fetched to assume that the broad language of
Article 7 of the Rome Statute will be used to achieve the goals set out by
Mrs. Robinson. Indeed, special interest groups are already holding
workshops, seminars and publishing material! s detailing how the Rome
Statute can be used to enforce international "soft law" norms like those
contained in the UNAIDS Guidelines and the Beijing Platform for Action.

I could go on. The broad language of the crimes of "persecution" and
"inhumane treatment" could be used to dictate marital policies, social
welfare policies, educational policies, strictures and rules for religious
practices, and on and on. While these (and related) arguments unquestionably
press the outer boundaries of the Rome Statute's plain language, they cannot
be dismissed; due to the vagueness of the Rome Statute's language, these
issues might easily fall within its reach. Pressure groups in Europe, the
United States and elsewhere are already meeting routinely to consider how to
use the Court to further their social agenda. In my opinion, the
International Criminal Court could well become the leading wedge by which
failed Marxist ideals are once-again enforced upon the peoples of the world.
If so, the Court will hardly lessen tensions in the world. On the contrary,
it will vastly increase the potential for cultural conflict.

During the past decade, the United Nations System has negotiated numerous
"platforms," "agendas" and "declarations" setting out aspirational goals for
Member States in virtually every area of human life. The Women's Caucus for
Gender Justice unquestionably intends to use the International Criminal
Court to enforce these (previously) "soft law" norms. As the caucus'
publications explain, "the creation of the world's first permanent criminal
court" provides "an opportunity to codify as international law . . . many of
the strategic objectives outlined and committed to by Governments in [such
documents as the Beijing] Platform for Action."49 The Rome Statute, in
short, could transform previously unenforceable (and often broadly worded)
norms into indictable criminal conduct. In the Caucus' view, the Court is
not merely (or even primarily) a court to deal with the "most serious crimes
of international concern."50 Rather, the Court is an institution with which
to achieve "many of! the commitments in the [Beijing] Platform for Action as
well as a mechanism through which to achieve others."51

Therefore, if the gender caucus is to be taken at its word, the Rome
Statute can (and will) be used to re-engineer social policies throughout the
world. I have been a lawyer (and a law professor) long enough to know that
vague language can be used to achieve almost any goal if the lawyers (and
judges) engaged in the task are infused with enthusiasm and ingenuity. The
NGO and legal communities that support adoption of the Rome Statute have
plenty of both - and to spare.

Judicial action that refashions social norms has become quite commonplace in
the United States, Canada, and the European Union. The impact of such
judicial tinkering is now becoming clear in the decaying family and social
structures in these parts of the world. The International Criminal Court
could well become the mechanism by which the Western innovation of
judicially (rather than legislatively) crafted social policy - and its
accompanying consequences - are exported to the rest of the world. Of all
revolutions through the centuries, this is the quietest. Of all the attempts
made over the years to foist one group's will on everyone else, this is the
most subtle and simultaneously the most far-reaching - the world-wide
constitutional convention no one knew about.

CONCLUSION: SOVEREIGNTY AT THE CROSSROADS

As I have outlined above, the International Criminal Court transfers a vast
amount of decision making power to judges who will be guided by vague
language and driven by a politically unaccountable prosecutor. This
intrusion upon national sovereignty is unprecedented. As set out at the
start of this essay, whether or not this unprecedented development
constitutes "doing the right thing" the "right way" depends, in large
measure, upon the respect one holds for the very notion of sovereignty. I
also realize that, in many national and international legal circles, respect
for the notion of sovereignty is at an all-time low. Therefore, in the end,
whether or not creation of the International Criminal Court is "doing the
right thing" the "right way" depends upon whether national sovereignty,
itself, deserves preservation. I believe that it does.

Respect for national sovereignty is a bedrock principle of the United
Nations Charter. Article 2, paragraph 7 of the United Nations Charter
provides:

Nothing contained in the present Charter shall authorize the United Nations
to intervene in matters which are essentially within the domestic
jurisdiction of any state or shall require the Members to submit such
matters to settlement under the present Charter . . . .

We now stand at the historic point where an international organ will have
the inherent power to intervene in domestic social policy. Those who applaud
this development, and there are many,52 expect the nations of the world to
willingly surrender important aspects of national sovereignty in the name of
"human rights." This is a dangerous course. National sovereignty, rather
than inimical to "human rights," is fundamental to the preservation of those
rights.

Key among fundamental human rights are the rights to democratic
self-governance and self-determination, the right to maintain diverse
cultural and religious practices, and even the right, if people so choose,
to "vote their conscience" and to establish governments based on religious
principles. These rights are set forth in numerous United Nations
pronouncements, including the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, the
International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, and the International
Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights.

These human rights and individual freedoms are best served if countries
preserve their sovereignty and the right to govern their own domestic
affairs. An autonomous international court will not be responsive to the
culturally diverse peoples of the world. Moreover, governance by judges is
inherently undemocratic. The power to determine the contours of domestic
policies must be kept close to home - close to the people being governed.

The process of evolution toward democracy and greater freedom and equality
has taken and will continue to take place. This process is inevitable as
modernization occurs, communications improve, and the peoples of the world
become better educated. It is as inevitable for women as it is for men. Each
nation must have the freedom to undertake this evolution in its own manner,
in ways adapted to its own unique culture. The Western nations have had this
freedom; it must be allowed to all.

Many "human rights" issues are, fundamentally, political questions that
should be answered by the political processes within each country. The
often-difficult debates surrounding many newly established and/or emerging
"human rights"(such as family rights, abortion and same-sex marriage) should
not be resolved by giving an international court the power to declare that
its ideological opponents are "criminals."

The United Nations was not designed to possess, let alone exercise,
sovereign powers. The United Nations Charter does not give it the power to
"enforce" human rights ideas upon sovereign nations. Rather, the Charter
calls upon the United Nations merely to "promot[e] and encourag[e] respect
for human rights." It would be a tragic irony if, in the name of "human
rights," the nations of the world give potentially despotic power to a court
that will be remote from the individual people of the world, but that will
have the power to prosecute and punish them for "social crimes."

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