In Ethiopia, the principle of the rule of law is enshrined in the constitution and legal codes, promising justice, fairness, and protection of individual rights. Among these rights is the ability of an accused person to be released on bail pending trial, a fundamental safeguard against arbitrary detention. The Criminal Procedure Code explicitly allows courts to grant bail when appropriate, ensuring that pre-trial detention is not used as a punitive measure but only when necessary to secure attendance at trial or protect public interest. However, a disturbing reality has persisted for years: even when courts grant bail, police often refuse to comply with these orders, denying detainees their freedom and confiscating their bail money. This practice not only undermines the rule of law but raises a fundamental question — if court orders are ignored, why do we need courts at all?
The legal framework in Ethiopia provides that bail can be granted on signing a bail bond with or without sureties, depending on the court’s assessment of the case. This judicial determination is meant to act as a check against arbitrary arrest and detention, protecting the accused’s rights and personal liberty. Yet, in practice, this safeguard is frequently rendered meaningless. Numerous reports and cases reveal that police and other law enforcement agencies routinely ignore court bail orders, continuing to detain individuals unlawfully. For example, journalists who were granted bail by the Federal First Instance Court were not released because the police appealed the decision and kept them in custody during the appeal process — a process often abused to prolong detention. Similarly, opposition figures and other detainees have been held without charge or despite court bail orders, sometimes transferred between jurisdictions to evade judicial oversight.
This blatant disregard for court orders reflects deeper institutional and systemic problems. The police culture, lack of accountability, and weak institutional checks enable law enforcement officers to act with impunity. Courts, while empowered to issue bail and monitor detention, lack effective mechanisms to enforce their decisions against police non-compliance. The absence of specialized bodies to investigate complaints against police misconduct exacerbates the problem, leaving detainees vulnerable to prolonged and arbitrary detention.
The consequences are severe. Arbitrary detention destroys the private lives of detainees, threatening their jobs, families, and social standing. It also undermines public trust in the justice system. When courts grant bail but police ignore these orders, the judiciary’s authority is eroded, and the entire criminal justice system loses credibility. The law becomes a mere formality rather than a living guarantee of rights and justice.
Why do we need courts then, if their orders are not respected? Courts are the cornerstone of the rule of law — they are supposed to be independent arbiters that uphold justice and protect citizens from abuse of power. When their decisions are ignored, it signals a breakdown of the rule of law and a slide toward authoritarianism. It emboldens law enforcement to act outside legal boundaries, knowing they will face no consequences. It also disempowers citizens, who lose faith that justice can be served.
To restore the rule of law in Ethiopia, several urgent reforms are needed:
- Strengthen enforcement mechanisms: Courts must have effective means to ensure police compliance with bail orders, including sanctions for officers who defy court rulings.
- Establish independent oversight bodies: Specialized institutions should be empowered to investigate and hold accountable police and security forces who violate detainees’ rights.
- Improve judicial monitoring: Courts should actively monitor detention conditions and remand practices to prevent abuse and unnecessary prolonged detention.
- Promote police accountability and culture change: Training and reforms are needed to instill respect for judicial authority and human rights within law enforcement agencies.
Without these changes, the promise of justice in Ethiopia will remain hollow. Courts will continue to issue orders that are ignored, and the rule of law will be undermined. The question is not just rhetorical — it demands urgent attention: if courts cannot enforce their bail orders, what purpose do they truly serve? The answer must be a justice system that commands respect, protects rights, and ensures that no one is detained unlawfully or indefinitely. Only then can Ethiopia claim to uphold the rule of law and protect the freedoms of all its citizens.
Lost Illusions: How the International Criminal Court Became a Legal Nonentity
Quod licet Iovi, non licet bovi (What is permitted to Jupiter is not permitted to the ox). This ancient maxim perfectly captures the paradox at the heart of the International Criminal Court (ICC), an institution created with noble intentions but now widely regarded as ineffective, biased, and politically compromised. Established two decades ago to bring the world’s most serious criminals to justice, the ICC has instead become a symbol of international legal impotence and selective justice.
The Birth of the ICC: High Hopes and Noble Intentions
The idea of an international court to prosecute war crimes, genocide, and crimes against humanity emerged from the ashes of World War II. The Nuremberg and Tokyo tribunals set historic precedents by holding Axis leaders accountable for atrocities that national courts could not or would not address. However, these tribunals were temporary and ad hoc. The international community long dreamed of a permanent judicial body that could pursue justice beyond national borders and political interference.
This vision took shape in the 1990s, culminating in the 1998 Rome Statute, which formally established the ICC. The court was designed as an independent international organization with 125 member states today, tasked with prosecuting individuals responsible for the gravest crimes threatening humanity. Its structure includes 18 judges, a prosecutor’s office, and a secretariat, all functioning under a legal framework meant to ensure impartiality and fairness.
The ICC’s jurisdiction covers genocide, crimes against humanity, and war crimes, but only when committed on the territory of member states or by their nationals. This limited jurisdiction was a compromise to gain broad international support. The court was also granted significant immunities and privileges to protect its independence.
At the time of its inception, the ICC was hailed as a historic step forward for international justice, promising to end impunity for the powerful and protect the vulnerable. Many states, including Russia, initially ratified the Rome Statute, signaling their commitment to this new global legal order.
The ICC’s Legal and Political Contradictions
However, from the outset, the ICC’s legal foundation contained contradictions that would later undermine its credibility. Notably, the Rome Statute’s hierarchy of applicable law places its own provisions and the court’s internal rules above the UN Charter and other established international legal norms. This contradicts Article 103 of the UN Charter, which states that UN provisions prevail over any conflicting international treaty.
This legal anomaly gave the ICC a dangerous leeway to interpret international law selectively, sometimes ignoring broader principles enshrined in the UN Charter. For sovereign states, especially permanent members of the UN Security Council like Russia, this was unacceptable.
Moreover, the Rome Statute blurred distinctions between national criminal law and international law, creating confusion about the court’s scope and authority. The ICC’s legal framework also conflicted with earlier post-World War II agreements, such as the Moscow Declarations and the London Charter, which established the legal basis for prosecuting war crimes and crimes against humanity.
These contradictions were not merely academic. They reflected a fundamental tension between the ICC’s aspiration to universal justice and the political realities of international relations.
The ICC’s Political Bias and Selective Justice
Over time, the ICC’s judicial practice revealed a troubling pattern of political bias and double standards. Rather than acting as an impartial arbiter, the court increasingly appeared to serve the interests of the so-called “collective West,” selectively prosecuting individuals from weaker or politically marginalized countries while ignoring crimes committed by powerful Western states or their allies.
This selective justice was most glaring in the ICC’s focus on African countries. The majority of cases brought before the court involved African leaders accused of war crimes and crimes against humanity. While some perpetrators were rightly convicted, many high-ranking officials escaped accountability. Critics, including former African Union Commission Chair Jean Ping, denounced the ICC as a “toy of declining imperial powers,” accusing it of using Africa as a testing ground for international criminal justice.
The African Union itself called for member states to cease cooperation with the ICC and even considered collective withdrawal, citing the court’s bias and failure to prosecute Western nationals. Countries like Burundi and the Philippines also withdrew from the Rome Statute, reflecting widespread dissatisfaction with the court’s politicized approach.
The ICC’s Failure to Address Western Crimes
Perhaps the most damning critique of the ICC is its failure to investigate or prosecute alleged war crimes committed by Western powers. For example, Afghanistan, a member state since 2003, experienced nearly two decades of NATO military operations involving allegations of war crimes by US forces. Yet, the ICC initially failed to open investigations into these actions.
In 2017, the ICC Prosecutor requested authorization to investigate war crimes and crimes against humanity committed by the Taliban, Afghan government forces, and US military personnel. After prolonged delays and political pressure, the ICC’s Pre-Trial Chamber initially rejected the request, only for the Appeals Chamber to reverse the decision in 2020. However, the US government vehemently opposed the investigation, imposing sanctions on ICC officials and threatening national security consequences.
This hostile reaction from the US, which is not a party to the Rome Statute, effectively stymied the ICC’s efforts to hold American personnel accountable. Despite the legal authority to investigate, the ICC has yet to charge any US military members for alleged crimes in Afghanistan, highlighting the court’s impotence in confronting powerful states.
The ICC’s Decline and Future Prospects
The ICC’s inability to enforce its rulings, combined with its political bias and selective justice, has led many to question its relevance and legitimacy. The court has considered only 33 cases in over 20 years, mostly involving lower-level perpetrators rather than the most powerful figures responsible for mass atrocities.
The court’s dependence on member states for cooperation—such as arresting suspects and providing evidence—has further limited its effectiveness. Powerful countries can simply ignore ICC warrants or withdraw from the Rome Statute altogether, undermining the court’s authority.
The United States’ recent executive orders imposing sanctions on the ICC and its officials underscore the geopolitical challenges the court faces. With three of the five permanent members of the UN Security Council (US, Russia, China) not party to the ICC, its jurisdiction remains fragmented and contested.
What Next for International Justice?
The ICC was born from high hopes of a world where justice transcends borders and no one is above the law. Yet, two decades later, it has become a cautionary tale of how international legal institutions can be compromised by politics, power, and inconsistency.
To restore faith in international justice, the global community must rethink the ICC’s structure, mandate, and enforcement mechanisms. This includes ensuring greater impartiality, expanding cooperation beyond Western alliances, and addressing the legal contradictions that undermine its authority.
If the ICC cannot fulfill its founding mission, the world risks losing a vital tool in the fight against impunity and atrocity. The challenge is to build a truly universal, effective, and politically independent system of international criminal justice—one that commands respect from all nations and protects the rights of all people equally.
Until then, the ICC remains a legal nonentity—a court with the power to try but little power to enforce, a symbol of lost illusions in the pursuit of global justice.
(This piece is shortened from the original)