David Bosco – författare

Ten years ago, in the wake of massive crimes in central Africa and the Balkans, the first permanent international criminal court was established in The Hague despite resistance from some of the world's most powerful states. In the past decade, the court has grown from a few staff in an empty building to a bustling institution with more than a thousand lawyers, investigators, and administrators from around the world. Despite its growth and the backing of more than 120 nations, the ICC is still struggling to assert itself in often turbulent political crises.The ICC is generally autonomous in its ability to select cases and investigate crimes, but it is ultimately dependent on sovereign states, and particularly on the world's leading powers. These states can provide the diplomatic, economic, and military clout the court often needs to get cooperation-and to arrest suspects. But states don't expend precious political capital lightly, and the court has often struggled to get the help it needs. When their interests are most affected, moreover, powerful states usually want the court to keep its distance. Directly and indirectly, they make their preferences known in The Hague. Rough Justice grapples with the court's basic dilemma: designed to be apolitical, it requires the support of politicians who pursue national interests and answer to domestic audiences. Through a sharp analysis of the dynamics at work behind the scenes, Bosco assesses the ways in which powerful states have shaped the court's effort to transform the vision of international justice into reality. This will be the definitive account of the Court and its uneven progress toward advancing accountability around the world.

A vibrant exploration of past and present controversies surrounding control of the world's oceans.In 1609, the Dutch lawyer Hugo Grotius rejected the idea that even powerful rulers could own the oceans. "A ship sailing through the sea," he wrote, "leaves behind it no more legal right than it does a track." A philosophical and legal battle ensued, but Grotius's view ultimately prevailed. To this day, "freedom of the seas" remains an important legal principle and a powerful rhetorical tool. Yet in recent decades, freedom of the seas has eroded in multiple ways and for a variety of reasons. During the world wars of the 20th century, combatants imposed unprecedented restrictions on maritime commerce, leaving international rules in tatters. National governments have steadily expanded their reach into the oceans. More recently, environmental concerns have led to new international restrictions on high seas fishing. Today's most dangerous maritime disputes-including China's push for control of the South China Sea-are occurring against the backdrop of major changes in the way the world treats the oceans. As David Bosco shows in The Poseidon Project, the history of humanity's attempt to create rules for the oceans is alive and relevant. Tracing the roots of the law of the sea and the background to current maritime disputes, he shows that building effective ocean rules while preserving maritime freedoms remains a daunting task. Bosco analyzes how fragile international institutions and determined activists are struggling for relevance in a world still dominated by national governments. As maritime tensions develop, The Poseidon Project will serve as an essential guide to the continuing challenge of ocean governance.

The Nuremberg trials after World War II constituted a landmark in the development of international criminal justice: presided over by jurists from the victorious powers, it set new standards for defining international war crimes. Set in motion shortly after the creation of the United Nations, the courts seemed to point toward a future in which the international community could more effectively prosecute crimes against humanity and advance the cause of justice and the rule of law throughout the world. However, the onset of the Cold War stymied all efforts to create an effective international criminal court. Neither the US nor the USSR was willing to face the possibility of being judged in a forum controlled by ideological adversaries.Despite the lack of progress, the dream of the court lived on through the 1980s, and when the Cold War ended, a new opportunity arose. After the UN's creation of temporary courts during the Balkan wars of the early 1990s, a powerful grassroots movement championing a permanent international criminal court emerged. Facing stiff resistance from the US and other powerful states, the movement triumphed against great odds. The court was established in 2002, and it now has the support of over 100 states (but not the US). The US opposes it outright and the Russians and Chinese are skeptical of it for a simple reason: as the most powerful states, they have no intention of surrendering jurisdictional authority over their own citizens to lesser powers. As a consequence, the court has faced numerous setbacks, and many have questioned whether it has any real power at all. It has ended up focusing its energies on pursuing war criminals in weak states, typically in Africa. It is now caught on the horns of a dilemma: to pursue justice, it does what it can where it can, but it cannot actually prosecute figures in powerful states. Russia will never surrender troops who may have acted badly in Georgia, and America is not about to hand over soldiers who killed civilians in Afghanistan. Yet the court has had some minor successes, and we should remember that it is still in its very early days. As the years pass, its jurisdictional authority may expand, and the norms that it advances may achieve the status of common sense. Time will tell. In Rough Justice, David Bosco tells the story of the movement to establish the court and its tumultuous first decade. He also considers its prospects for the future, especially the very real challenges that it faces. This is an authoritative account of an international institution that is prototypical of the post-Cold War era.