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Responsible Sovereignty:

R2P and the Protection of Human Rights

Julian Colamedici [1]

 

Introduction

Ottawa, Canada, December 2001: the International Commission on Intervention and State Sovereignty (ICISS) formally put forward, for the first time, the Responsibility to Protect (R2P) doctrine. The mandate received by the Canadian Government was clear: to provide a response to the pivotal question “starkly and directly” posed by the then Secretary-General of the United Nations, Kofi Annan: “[…] if humanitarian intervention is, indeed, an unacceptable assault on sovereignty, how should we respond to a Rwanda, to a Srebrenica – to gross and systematic violations of human rights that affect every precept of our common humanity?”^[2]. A still unanswered question, which has nevertheless spurred an interesting and fruitful debate. But let us start from a brief historical overview of the issue.

“Historia magistra vitae”, as Cicero famously stated[3], but seldom it has proper students. Hence, it may be wise to proceed along the path of past events to explain contemporary ones. Indeed, even if history does not repeat itself the same way twice, it can still provide useful insights to better understand the present. So, returning to our subject, if we look backwards seeking for answers, it is possible to encounter something like an “interventionist” attitude deeply rooted in human annals, even if often differently labelled. It seems, in fact, that States (and, before them, monarchs and feudal lords) usually felt the need to embellish their mostly prosaic national (or political) interests with the mantle of some higher principle. Sometimes it has been the right to defend a particular population, a peculiar religious minority, some others just an (assumed) universal ideal – often presented as superior to the one of the current foe. From the heretic to the enemy combatant the step is alarmingly short^[4].

 

Lessons from the past

Arguably, indeed, similar claims and beliefs are not a discovery of the modern era, being throughout history rather frequent the resort to holy missions or abstract ideologies – apparently with innocuous and noble ends – to cover imperialistic longings and appetites for conquest. So, is it a brand-new “justa causa belli”^[5], ready to justify intrusive foreign policies and military interventions, or is it nothing less than the latest achievement of an everlasting democratic march towards a better world? Either way, when war becomes a struggle between good and evil, it just ceases to be “a duel on an extensive scale”[6] and becomes “a police action against peace disturbers, criminals and poisonous elements”[7]. No more just enemies, but criminals; no more limited warfare, but utter annihilation – “police bombing”[8]. A duel, on the contrary, means a mutual recognition of equality. A privilege not always conceded to foes: limitless destruction, criminalization of the adversary, anonymous killings from the sky – “tantum licet in bello justo”[9].

In fact, yet during the pre-modern era, something remotely referable to the current concept of R2P, with due distinctions, had been put forth by an eminent Spanish theologist among his seven “tituli idonei ac legitimi” to wage a righteous war: the so-called “jus protectionis”^[10]. But one fundamental difference stands out, on which we will come back later: Vitoria speaks about a jus, a right, to protect. A State could wage a legitimate war against an enemy under some circumstances but could also do not so. The 2001’s principle, on the contrary, is formulated as a responsibility, hence looking at the protection from an obligational point of view: a true perspective revolution.

In other words: any State, consistently with R2P doctrine, simply should intervene to protect the civil population from abuse when other means are neither feasible nor successful – which could mean to interfere with the legitimate sovereignty of another State. Inter alia, the Commission’s name itself is a remarkable sign of this contradiction: International Commission on Intervention and State Sovereignty. On the one hand, “intervention” – namely, an external action of a foreign State with the aim to compensate the internal inaction of another one; on the other, “State sovereignty” – that is, the old westphalian principle “rex in regem non habet jurisdictionem” or, in other words, that the State “superiorem non recognosens”. To say it in a different way, leaders have always struggled to find an equilibrium in what seems to be an unescapable polarity: “since justice and peace do not go together, statesmen will have to continue choosing between them”[11]. That is, as Garnett and Baylis put it: “the pursuit of justice may require […] war” just as the pursuit of peace may equally require “to put up with injustice”[12]. A fundamental choice, which in this case appears “to put justice before peace” – as the numerous interventions “in support of human rights and democratic values” have so far demonstrated[13]. But recent history has also shown the severe and numerous flaws intrinsic to such an approach. The UN harsh experience in Somalia, Bosnia-Erzegovina and Rwanda, indeed, made clear that the previous mandate-based system, established upon a formal Chapter VII authorization by the United Nations – with all its uncertainties regarding unity of command and rules of engagement – was not enough. Indeed, previously, the mere physical interposition of forces (such as “blue helmets”) had proven “uncapable to enforce manu militari the respect of the UN’s resolutions which application they were meant to guard”[14].

The second-generation peacekeeping, promoted in 1992 by UN Secretary-General in his report “An Agenda for Peace”, therefore, has proven a bitter failure, due to the lack of proportion between goals and means. Notably, in Somalia the ambitious mission to disarm the “warring factions and reconstruct the Somali state” failed painfully[15]. Likewise, in Bosnia the “reluctance to call in air strikes when land forces proved insufficient” made the peacekeepers unable to prevent ethnic cleansing[16] – as Kofi Annan famously stated: “we tried to keep the peace and apply the rules of peacekeeping when there was no peace to keep”[17]. And finally, in Rwanda peacekeepers found themselves “understaffed, under-resourced, and unauthorized to use force” while a genocide of appalling proportions was going on[18]. The Brahimi report, in 2000, was explicit on the consequences of this over-ambition by the United Nations. However, the Catholic Church insisted on the duty, by the community of nations, to act in “humanitarian interference” operations. The late Pope John Paul II was, inter alia, very clear on this point, as he said: “Peace is a fundamental right of any human being, to be continuously promoted. Often, this task, as also recent experiences have demonstrated, implies concrete initiatives to disarm the aggressor. I intend to refer here to the so–called humanitarian interference, which represents, after the failure of the political efforts and of the non–violent defence means, the extreme attempt to be made, in order to stop the hand of the unjust aggressor”[19].

Recalling the words of an ancient Roman general: “Saluberrimum in administratione magnarum rerum est summam imperii apud unum esse” ^[20]. An utterly new class of conflict was emerging from the ashes of the old-style peacekeeping, made possible chiefly by the fall of the Soviet Union and therefore of its leverage upon the Security Council. A novel dimension of warfare, which could appropriately be called, following Rupert Smith’s thesis, “war among the people”[21]. A war literally waged against an undefined enemy, “characterized by ambiguity and intricacy, where political, military and cultural aspects appear confusedly interrelated and where the solution it’s a tough gain, precisely because we are not allowed to know even the scale in which to look for it”[22]. Such a change, not surprisingly, seems to have also influenced the political legitimation to use force abroad, having bent it towards human rights protection – though only under certain conditions (e.g., major violations as mass atrocities or the unwillingness or incapacity of the State to protect its own citizens). To view it under a different light, we could bring up the evolution from peacekeeping (Chapter VI of the UN Charter) to peace enforcement (Chapter VII)[23]. An emblematic development which, Greitens believes, owes its peculiarity to the fact that “the forces involved in these operations are commonly intervening in situations where peace has not already been made”, broadening mandates to an extent unconceivable for the bipolar age[24].

Indeed, “today’s humanitarian interventions have become larger, more complex affairs” – alas, with the unintended consequence that “peacekeepers have used more force, and used it more often, than it had been expected previously”[25]. Concurrently, the same application of this force has become a vaguer concept, as organized armed violence “no longer occurs in a confined physical and mediatic space, but everywhere”[26]. And by being everywhere, war has thus become far nearer to the civilian population than ever before, causing appalling “collateral damages”[27]; the news about whose occurrence, of course, are rapidly spread worldwide by social media and international press. As a consequence, national public opinions – and the favour of local population alike – have become the real “centre of gravity”[28] of today’s peace enforcement operations.

 

A legal perspective

Nevertheless, given the political development of the concept, it is still debated whether this change of perception reflects an analogue juridical progress. To such end, R2P doctrine was launched as an evolution from the former concept of humanitarian intervention in order to ground it upon a “legal responsibility of States towards the international community for the abuses perpetrated against their own populations”[29]. Consequently, while pushing for a comprehensive reformation of the UN as a whole, the Organization – under the impulse of its Secretary-General – has drafted some documents and “implementing reports” where it is plainly argued that States, acting in the framework of the Charter, should have some specific responsibilities towards other peoples as well as their own. In the words of the Italian jurist Natalino Ronzitti: “i documenti elaborati in vista della riforma delle Nazioni Unite specificano che gli Stati hanno una responsabilità per la protezione dei diritti umani e per impedire catastrofi umanitarie, quali il genocidio (cd. Responsibility to Protect)”^[30]. In particular, he refers to the document adopted by the 2005 World Summit, which dedicates two paragraphs to R2P, where it is stated that “each individual State” shall stop genocide, war crimes and other crimes against humanity which may take place within its borders; if not able or not willing to do so, then, a “collective action” can be taken to restore peace with the approbation of the Security Council[31].

In fact, the wording adopted by the Outcome Document clearly appears more cautious than the one chosen in 2001: the use of force – an extrema ratio in the event that peaceful measures have proven unsuccessful and “national authorities are manifestly failing to protect their populations” – is formulated as a right, not a duty[32]. Furthermore, Ronzitti acutely adds that any action of the Council, if ever agreed upon by the majority, can always be vetoed by one of its permanent members: “i quali, nonostante l’auspicio in senso contrario, non hanno rinunciato alla loro prerogativa neppure quando si verificavano gravi violazioni dei diritti umani”^[33]. That suggests, Ronzitti concludes, that the so-called “humanitarian interference” of a State in the territory of another State to end a major human right violation, without consent, “non ha nessuna base giuridica nell’ordinamento internazionale”^[34]. The only way a legitimate action can presently take place, continues the quoted author, is by being embedded in the UN Charter frame or being founded upon the traditional “illicit fact” exclusion clauses.

Professor Ronzitti is not alone in his prudent approach toward humanitarian interference. Looking at it from a more geopolitical perspective, General Jean, among others, holds R2P as just another way to cover national interest. In his words: “Si sviluppano poi nuovi principi, come quello molto controverso del diritto-dovere di ingerenza umanitaria, che tendono a modificare il diritto internazionale tradizionale, fondato sugli Stati sovrani, per adeguarlo alle nuove esigenze della globalizzazione e dell’interdipendenza mondiali”[35]. Besides, he adds: “Gli interventi umanitari sono spesso semplici alibi dei governi per dimostrare alle loro opinioni pubbliche che stanno facendo qualcosa, oppure pretesti per mascherare il perseguimento di obiettivi che non si intendono dichiarare”[36].

Therefore, the so-called jus ad bellum still appears firmly anchored to article 2 and Chapter VII of the mentioned Charter[37]. Specifically, in paragraphs 3 and 4 of the cited article is established that: “All Members shall settle their international disputes by peaceful means” and, whenever possible, “refrain […] from the threat of use of force against the territorial integrity or political independence of any State”[38]. A norm, underlines Morris, “recognized as having the character of jus cogens”[39]: that is, fully binding and non-derogable. But with two remarkable exceptions: “the inherent right of individual and collective self-defence in the face of armed attack” and potential actions “for the maintenance or restoration of international peace and security authorized by the UN Security Council”[40], which apparently “remains the primary source of international legitimacy”[41].

A rather slight legitimacy. So slight that, as 1990-1991 Gulf War and Iraqi Freedom have remarkably shown, has even been claimed ex post – when not openly passed over, as NATO did to deal with the escalating crisis in Kosovo. An intervention, the latter, which arguably would otherwise have been vetoed by Russia. Nevertheless, as the Italian jurist Antonio Cassese clearly stated, such a venture – even if partially justifiable by Security Council’s inaction – was “una chiara e flagrante violazione” of the UN Charter itself[42], which does not consent in any way individual actions, even to stop human rights violations.

Moreover, the protection of those rights could even be considered as a “subsidiary” end, recessive in front of the primary interests represented by international peace and security[43]. In Cassese’s words: “la violazione della pace e quella della sicurezza internazionale sono proibite anche quando dovessero risultare necessarie allo scopo di garantire il rispetto dei diritti umani”[44]. How to react to massive violations and crimes against humanity then? The only possible answer, goes on Cassese, is a formal authorization from the Security Council under article 39. So does Ronzitti, as previously seen. But the actual practice of States not always represent the opinion of the academicians, in fact very seldom. In this sense, great powers appear to be much more interested in security competitions and geopolitical prestige rather than juridical dissertations. That is why, as Morris plainly highlights, “the general prohibition of the use of force […] is subject to numerous alternative interpretations regarding the extent of the prohibition and the permissibility of exceptions to it”; exceptions which may include, for example, “pre-emptive strike and humanitarian intervention”[45].

The responsibility to protect as nowadays intended, however, finds its roots into the wider issue of protecting civilians from war havoc. A rather dated concern, at least to the appalling massacres of non-combatant population caused by the two world wars of the last century. But which had not gone completely unnoticed even before: an alike awareness, indeed, had already risen at the time of the tremendous devastations of the Thirty Years War (a chiefly religious conflict, which brought to the well-known Peace of Westphalia in 1648 – generally considered the birth certificate of the modern international system). A mindfulness which would have then reached the wider public little more than two hundred years later, in the aftermath of the Battle of Solferino, which inspired Henry Dunant and left as legacy the Red Cross. A much-debated topic, thus, that have found new momentum in the decades after the fall of the Berlin Wall. Indeed, once the “iron curtain” had disappeared, previously repressed forces were able to emerge altogether. Losing the ground beneath its own feet, the bipolar equilibrium crushed into a multipolar disarray, preceded by a short decade of American unchallenged hegemony. A temporary, but global, unipolarity that made not few scholars believe it would have been eternal – “the end of history” was announced at the dusk of the 20th century[46].

In such a scenario, the United Nations benefited from their unprecedented prestige, being finally capable of acting without the latches of obstructive vetoes. Therefore, they “began increasingly to emphasize the importance of the protection of civilians”[47]. A first mandate in that sense was issued for Sierra Leone. Shortly afterwards, the Ottawa convention took place and R2P doctrine was born: “this emphasis […] elevated civilian protection and placed significant limits on the previous norm of state sovereignty”[48]. An emphasis that, eventually, brought to the Libyan intervention – “the first time that the UN had authorized the use of force to protect civilians against the wishes of a functional state”[49]. However, such recent praxis does not help much, having the Security Council not even referred to R2P in the compulsory part of resolution 1973 (2011), which authorized the intervention in Libya^[50].

Nevertheless, as stressed by Garnett and Baylis, the consequences of wars such as those waged in Iraq, Afghanistan and more recently in Syria – where a civil upheaval became an international conflict – have shown a rather different reality so far. A slightly unpleasant picture, which portrays the other side of the coin: that is, democratic States “have also demonstrated some enthusiasm for wars of intervention in support of human rights”[51]. Alas, add the authors, such a “fashion for waging wars in support of liberal values does not augur well for a peaceful world”[52]. And they may well be right, being war, in the well-known words of Clausewitz, “not merely a political act, but also a real political instrument […], a carrying out of the same by other means”^[53]. Indeed, “the end of the cold war created demand, opportunities, and incentives for intervention, and led to an unprecedented increase in the number and scale” of the use of military force around the world for “peace enforcement” purposes[54].

 

The geopolitical bond

So, what does R2P mean? Let us move from the basic definition provided by the same ICISS: “the idea that sovereign states have a responsibility to protect their own citizens from avoidable catastrophe – from mass murder and rape, from starvation – but that when they are unwilling or unable to do so, that responsibility must be borne by the broader community of states”^[55]. A responsibility virtually, applicable to a wide range of situations, making not so easy to decide whether or not it is appropriate for a concrete case. What is more, R2P – as formulated in 2001 – operates only when the considered State “is unwilling or unable” to do its own job; and that implies, as a consequence, that someone else shall do it. In a word: one sovereign State ought to have an explicit responsibility to impose by force to another equally sovereign State its own duties. In an ideal world, this would certainly be one crucial step towards the answer required by Kofi Annan’s question. Alas, in our unstable and divided world, geopolitical, strategical, and economical confrontations make it rather arduous to believe that such a responsibility could not be turned into the umpteenth means to gain the influence and power necessary to win hegemony over rivals^[56].

Furthermore, taking for granted that an intervention – even if limitative of another State’s sovereignty – could realistically be justified by the need to protect human rights, and legitimated by being enclosed in the UN framework, how to enshrine its actual binding nature? Some says that R2P is “morally obligatory”, i.e. that it proceeds from the “duties-generating character of human rights”[57]. In other words, since human rights are universal, also their protection should be so; in this sense, states Luke Glanville, “human rights generate duties”^[58]. But, as a predictable consequence, further questions arise from such an answer: assuming that human rights, without practice nor jurisprudence, could generate new erga omnes binding duties – and such a statement, clearly, is far from being undisputed –, how would they be implemented? Besides, even if such duties could easily be performed by some supranational body, how to balance them with the core tenet of the international system itself: the sovereignty principle?

Such questions are probably destined to remain unanswered, since a complete and wide acceptance of the superiority of human rights to State’s sovereignty would require the veto-wielding powers willingness to consent an external interference even in their own affairs under some pre-established circumstances – and that seems far from happening. Nonetheless, Glanville goes further. First, he recognises the perplexity reported above about the likelihood of such a revolution in international behaviour. Indeed, he defines the responsibility to protect an “imperfect duty”. A duty that, in other words, cannot neither be demanded to any specific actor nor enforced by any superior authority^[59]. Antonio Cassese, on the contrary, seems to be reluctant in recognising R2P as a duty, being presently absent a customary international norm which binds a State to take action to stop another from committing mass atrocities or to interfere in its sphere of sovereignty when not able or willing to prevent its occurrence[60].

As Cassese writes, both the objective element – the so-called usus – and the subjective one – opinio juris sive necessitatis – are either hardly noticeable in practice or yet not sufficiently shared by States[61]. Nevertheless, both authors eventually propose some possible solutions: on the one hand, the Italian jurist assesses that neither unilateral nor multilateral intervention should take place without a previous placet by the Security Council. But also this procedure could turn into an unsatisfying one, given the veto-wielding powers’ political discretion. How to avoid such structural limits without jeopardizing the structure? One way could be, in Cassese’s words, to put at its disposal Member States’ armed forces or to establish a “Rapid Reaction Force” directly under Council’s control[62].

But what to do if the Council itself becomes inactive due to permanent members’ reciprocal vetoes? Here Cassese brings up an example from the Cold War bipolar system, when the Security Council was stuck into an almost daily stalemate: the renowned 377(V) General Assembly’s resolution Uniting for Peace. It was 1950 and the Korean War had abruptly remembered the world that military confrontations were not yet just a haunting memory from a far past. In that occasion, the international community was nonetheless able to find – chiefly thanks to the American initiative and support – an alternative path to fulfil its mandate when the Council lacked the necessary unity to adopt any decision because of, in that specific circumstance, the Soviet veto. Recalling this episode, Cassese suggests empowering once for all the General Assembly with a specific subsidiary role in comparable cases[63].

On the other hand, also Glanville sees in further institutionalization a way to make such duty “perfect”. In this regard, he supports his thesis by explaining that “institutions assign duties to particular actors and specify their content”: in a word, they perfectionate imperfect duties^[64]. In such a perspective, then, an international organization (e.g., the United Nations) could well be the best suited authority to evenly apportion responsibilities and properly allocate the burden of intervention to the most fitting State or group of States. A distribution of duties, the one proposed by Glanville, which could also be related to geographic location and historical or cultural threads. A view confirmed, in the author’s opinion, by praxis: “international actors already behave as if duties of intervention are allocated this way”^[65]. Thus, he infers, the path towards a compulsory – that is, effective – R2P could be opened by the plain recognition of a de facto yet customary demeanour. Therefore, he concludes, “the five veto wielding permanent members of the council have a duty to refrain from impeding the council by vetoing or threatening to veto draft resolutions that would authorize the effective protection of populations”. Here we pose again the previous question: how to balance such duty with the sovereignty principle?

 

Conclusions

Are international relations just a matter of power then? Under such a perspective, to ask whether the R2P is legally binding or not could be misleading, similarly to a talk about moral appropriateness. The “law of nations” cannot simply be enforced by any supranational authority: it would entail the establishment of a “global public law” and the disappearance of States tout court[66]. Nevertheless, to infer from this statement that international law does not play any significant role would just be erroneous: it does. The world we live in is not ruled by mere anarchy. On the contrary, the international community has developed its own rules, a composite architecture but by no means lawless, as stressed by some scholars[67].

That is precisely why the establishment of a legal system which could effectively discipline relations among powers has always been a matter of the highest importance for them, at least since the birth of the modern international system. In Henkin’s words: “Almost all nations observe almost all principles of international law and almost all of their obligations almost all of the time”[68]. International law emerges here as a consistent normative system that provides, in the end, a consensual frame of rules and a common house within whose margins peaceful relations are encouraged. Even when disputes arise. But when peace and consensus lack, the vacuum can always be rapidly filled by the same old dangerous power games. International courts and tribunals have known an undoubtable success since 1945, mostly due to the renewed commitment to abolish the use of force as a legitimate means of foreign policy. However, it has to be specified that such peaceful instruments of dispute settlement are still largely dependent on governments’ acceptance of their jurisdiction. Therefore, it is ultimately remitted to States’ will the choice of how to react when law is violated or security is in peril. And what predominantly leads, or at least should lead, States’ choices in such occurrences? Virtually – and hopefully, as said – the international law. But also, and more realistically, national interest.

In the words of Mearsheimer: “great powers fear each other and always compete with each other for power. […] Their ultimate aim is to be the hegemon – that is, the only great power in the system”[69]. Hence, they will wage war against “evil axes”, invade “rough States”, bring down dictators to spread democracy and defend civilians – but only if it is in their interest to do so. In any event, the desirable goal should anyway be the progressive alignment of local interests to collective good. Preferably through law, not power.

“In an increasingly globalized and complex world, issues of low politics” like demographics, environmental damages and health issues – most of all the new coronavirus pandemic – have become central to global security and may exacerbate the effects of extant “political and military disputes”[70]. In Wirtz’s words: “The distinguishing characteristic of all of these issues, however, is the fact that either their causes or their effects are beyond the reach of any one state”[71]. Seen under this light, the Responsibility to Protect appears slightly different. It is not just a legal nor a moral issue, but also a security one: of “human security”, as the ICISS has outlined it. And security means power.

How to balance, then, the undeniable moral duty to protect fellow humans from major violations of their most basic rights with the mostly cold and cynic syntax of interest and power? On the one hand, the mentioned institutionalization of present virtuous demeanors proposed by Glanville; on the other, as suggested by Cassese, to rely more extensively on the United Nations, the only actor capable to guarantee a fair settlement of international disputes within legal boundaries and a consistent answer to humanitarian claims worldwide, thereby making the United Nations uniquely positioned to be the most suitable forum for the debate to go on. The balance is fragile and the interests at stake are pivotal. How to effectively protect human rights without compromising the principle of non-interference then? The answer is not given yet, and no general international norm appears to have consolidated so far. Hence, it seems that the crucial question posed by Kofi Annan will not be responded to anytime soon.

[1] All statements of facts or opinion are those of the author and do not reflect the official positions or views of any governmental institution. The present work was originally drafted as an exam paper during the course in Strategic Studies held by General (ret.) G. Cuzzelli at Link Campus University of Rome (a.y. 2019-2020), to whom I express my gratitude. I also thank Vice Admiral (ret.) F. Sanfelice di Monteforte for his invaluable guidance.

[2] International Commission on Intervention and State Sovereignty (ICISS), The Responsibility to Protect: Report of the International Commission on Intervention and State Sovereignty, International Development Research Centre, Ottawa, December 2001, p. VII (http://responsibilitytoprotect.org/ICISS%20Report.pdf).

[3] Cicero, De Oratore, II, 9, 36: “Historia vero testis temporum, lux veritatis, vita memoriae, magistra vitae, nuntia vetustatis”.

[4] See N. Ronzitti, Diritto internazionale dei conflitti armati, Giappichelli, Torino, 2011, p. 261.

[5] Referring to the Middle Ages’ traditional concept of “just war” as one conducted against infidels or waged with Rome’s – that is, the Pope’s – consensus (“holy war”). See Carl Schmitt, Il nomos della terra nel diritto internazionale dello «jus publicum Europaeum», Adelphi, Milano, 1991.

[6] C. v. Clausewitz, On War, Repeater Books, London, 2019, p. 35.

[7] C. Schmitt, Il nomos della terra, cit., p. 430 (translation is mine).

[8] Ibid.

[9] Ibid., p. 431.

[10] See F. de Vitoria, Relectiones de Indiis et de jure belli (1539), quoted by C. Schmitt, op. cit.

[11] J. Garnett, J. Baylis, “The Causes of War and the Conditions of Peace”, in J. Baylis, J.J. Wirtz, C.S. Gray, Strategy in the Contemporary World, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 2019, p. 87.

[12] Ibid.

[13] Ibid.

[14] G. Giacomello, G. Badialetti, Manuale di studi strategici. Da Sun Tzu alle ‘guerre ibride’, Vita e Pensiero, Milano, 2016, p. 88 (translation is mine).

[15] S.C. Greitens, “Humanitarian Intervention and Peace Operations”, in J. Baylis, J.J. Wirtz, C.S. Gray, Strategy in the Contemporary World, cit., p. 275.

[16] Ibid.

[17] Ibid., p. 276, box 16.1, where K. Annan is quoted.

[18] Ibid., p. 275.

[19] Osservatore Romano, 20–21 November 2000. See also V. Buonuomo e F. Eichberg, “L’uso della forza secondo Papa Wojtyla”, Limes, 11/01/2000 (https://www.limesonline.com/cartaceo/luso-della-forza-secondo-papa-wojtyla?prv=true).

[20] See N. Machiavelli, Discorsi sulla prima deca di Tito Livio, p. 450, reporting Agrippa’s words to justify his desire to leave the entire war conduction to Quinzio.

[21] R. Smith, The Utility of Force, Random House, New York, 2005, quoted by G. Giacomello, G. Badialetti, cit., p. 83 (the following translations are mine).

[22] Ibid.

[23] Ibid., pp. 90-92.

[24] S.C. Greitens, op. cit., p. 275

[25] Ibid.

[26] R. Smith, op. cit., p. 83.

[27] Ibid., p. 84.

[28] Ibid., p. 86, where S. quotes from Clausewitz the famous strategic notion.

[29] Ibid., p. 89.

[30] N. Ronzitti, op. cit., p. 51.

[31] UNGA, 2005 World Summit Outcome, A/Res/60/1, 24/10/2005, p. 30 (https://www.un.org/en/development/desa/population/migration/generalassembly/docs/globalcompact/A_RES_60_1.pdf).

[32] Ibid. See also A. Sinagra, P. Bargiacchi, Lezioni di diritto internazionale pubblico, Giuffrè, Milano, 2019, pp. 387-388.

[33] N. Ronzitti, op. cit., p. 51.

[34] Ibid., p. 49.

[35] C. Jean, Guerra, Strategia e Sicurezza, Laterza, Roma-Bari, 1997, p. 23.

[36] Ibid. p. 49.

[37] Morris, “Law, Politics, and the Use of Force”, in J. Baylis, J.J. Wirtz, C.S. Gray, Strategy in the Contemporary World, cit., p. 117.

[38] UN Charter, Art. 2.

[39] Morris, op. cit., p. 117.

[40] Ibid.

[41] Ibid., p. 119.

[42] A. Cassese, I diritti umani oggi, Laterza, Roma-Bari, 2010, p. 227.

[43] Ibid., p. 225.

[44] Ibid.

[45] Morris, op. cit., p. 113.

[46] See F. Fukuyama, The End of History and the Last Man, Free Press, New York, 1992.

[47] S.C. Greitens, op. cit., p. 276.

[48] Ibid., p. 277.

[49] Ibid.

[50] SC, S/Res/1973, 17/03/2011 (https://www.undocs.org/S/RES/1973%20(2011)). See also A. Sinagra, P. Bargiacchi, op. cit., p. 389.

[51] J. Garnett, J. Baylis, “The Causes of War and the Conditions of Peace”, cit., p. 81.

[52] Ibid.

[53] C. v. Clausewitz, op. cit., p. 55.

[54] S.C. Greitens, op. cit., pp. 274-275.

[55] International Commission on Intervention and State Sovereignty (ICISS), cit., p. VIII (http://responsibilitytoprotect.org/ICISS%20Report.pdf).

[56] J.J. Mearsheimer, The Tragedy of Great Power Politics. A theory, the one advocated by M., which has been criticized in both its descriptive and prescriptive accuracy by J. Kirshner, “The tragedy of offensive realism: Classical realism and the rise of China”, European Journal of International Relations, 18(1), 2012, pp. 53-75: “The fatal flaw in Mearsheimer’s argument, however, is in his failure to distinguish between being a hegemon and bidding for hegemony. […] Most great powers are extremely likely to survive; most great powers that bid for hegemony do not” – thus, if States are concerned only in their security, would it be a rational conduct for them to behave in a way that could turn in their own destruction? In Kirshner’s words: “Only a power with a complete ignorance of history would be eager to embark upon a bid for hegemony, if survival was its main goal” (https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/1354066110373949).

[57] L. Glanville, “Is Just Intervention Morally Obligatory?” in C.E. Gentry, A.E. Eckert, The Future of Just War: New Critical Essays, University of Georgia Press, Athens, 2014, pp. 48 and 51.

[58] Ibid.

[59] Ibid., p. 53.

[60] A. Cassese, op. cit., p. 226.

[61] Ibid.

[62] Ibid.

[63] Ibid., p. 227.

[64] L. Glanville, p. 55.

[65] Ibid., p. 56.

[66] G. Arangio-Ruiz, La persona internazionale dello Stato, Wolters Kluwer, Milano, 2014, p. 85: “il diritto internazionale non è il diritto pubblico dell’umanità”.

[67] A. Sinagra, P. Bargiacchi, op. cit., p. 3: “la predominante presenza degli Stati nel sistema politico westfaliano configurò i caratteri strutturali della società internazionale in senso paritario e anorganico”.

[68] Ibid., p. 20, where the authors quote L. Henkin, How Nations Behave: Law and Foreign Policy, New York, 1979, p. 47.

[69] J.J. Mearsheimer, op. cit., p. 2.

[70] J.J. Wirtz, “A New Agenda for Security and Strategy?”, in J. Baylis, J.J. Wirtz, C.S. Gray, Strategy in the Contemporary World, cit., p. 383.

[71] Ibid, p. 374.