The Munyaneza Decision

In a perfect world, every war criminal would see their day in court. But the world of practical politics is not a perfect one.

Earlier this year, a Montréal court issued a groundbreaking decision convicting Desiré Munyaneza, a failed Rwandan refugee claimant, of genocide, war crimes, and crimes against humanity. The charges stemmed from his role in the genocide in Rwanda in 1994. According to witnesses, Mr. Munyaneza, a Rwandan Hutu, was a leader of the local child soldier militia. The court also learned that he was involved in a number of killings, rapes, beatings, and lootings of his Tutsi neighbours.

This case was the first successful prosecution for these types of crimes in Canada. It conveys the message that Canada is not a safe haven for war criminals – a message the government has been unsuccessful at sending in the past.

Canada unsuccessfully attempted another prosecution in the early ‘90s of Imre Finta, a Hungarian Nazi, for war crimes and crimes against humanity committed during the Second World War. Since then, the government has looked to the immigration process to deal with such “undesireables.”

While the Munyaneza prosecution is undoubtedly a great step forward for Canada in its commitment to uphold international law, it has received mixed reviews.

It has been correctly observed that the choice of Canada and other countries to take African warlords to court, while allowing developed-world leader who participate equally in international crime to escape prosecution is a glaring double standard. This is most notable in the case of the United States and Britain.

International criminal tribunals, meanwhile, have been criticized as examples of victor’s justice. These tribunals, such as the ones established after the conflict in the former Yugoslavia in the 1990s and, most famously, the court established in Iraq following the successful ousting of Saddam Hussein, demonstrate a selective use of the law.

But, is this so wrong?

Since the Second World War, international law has developed in interesting and important ways. For example, rape has been recognized more recently as a tool of war and, as such, has been considered a war crime and crime against humanity.

The prosecution of war criminals gives voice to victims and provides them with a sense of closure. War crime convictions in this context send the message that these actions will be at a minimum noticed and disapproved of, and at a maximum severely punished.

It puts would-be international criminals on notice that the world takes a dim view of these acts and will act decisively to prosecute the perpetrators. While the law may have come into being at the behest of various “victors,” it has developed and has enunciated important principles nonetheless.

Simply because the law hasn’t been applied equally to all sides does not necessarily mean that such endeavours are less important. It is easy to forget that the law is just one tool at our disposal to address perpetrators of such atrocities. Politics is another powerful tool. And, when prosecuting the nationals of other countries, it is extremely important for a prosecuting state to ensure positive international relations with their friends and allies.

Does that mean that we ignore the crimes of American or British political or military bosses? No. Does this mean that we must pursue each perpetrator with equal vigour? Not necessarily. To do so without regard to the politics is to act at one’s own peril.

It’s tempting to criticize prosecutions such as the one against Mr. Munyaneza as examples of paternalism or even developed-world imperialism. Perhaps in some ways, it is. However, to focus only on the unequal application of these laws is to see only part of the story and to lose sight of the larger picture.

If we all agree that war criminals ought to be pursued and punished for their actions, then we must also accept that the law is not the only way to address this problem. If we attempted to prosecute every last perpetrator of war crimes, we may end up with even larger problems on our hands – a world where countries may be less willing to assist each other militarily in the aim of peace and stability.

A perfect outcome? Maybe not. A realistic one? Yes.