Dignity Without Power

In a huge gingerbread building in The Hague last week, 15 elderly jurists strode solemnly into the courtroom of the International Court of Justice to resume their deliberate deliberation of some of the world's less pressing problems. While the crises in Laos, Berlin, Suez and Cuba get settled--if at all--in the harsher corridors of power politics, the World Court contents itself with less basic disputes. The reason: no major power has so far entrusted the court with the decisions that most matter.

The International Court, taking up where the old League of Nations World Court left off, was born when the nations of the world gathered in San Francisco in 1945 to approve the U.N. Charter. As the U.N.'s chief judicial body, its ringing purpose was "to bring about by peaceful means . . . the settlement of international disputes or situations which might lead to a breach of the peace." Of all U.N. bodies, the Court seemed the most promising. Its membership was carefully distributed to avoid reflecting world power divisions. Its statutes were painstakingly designed to assure thorough exploration of the issues. But more and more the World Court has proved to be the court of minor resort; e.g., Britain and France amiably dispute ownership of the tiny Channel Islands--which neither really wants much. Since the Court cannot force a nation to submit to its jurisdiction, both partners to a dispute must agree to let the Court rule. In big issues, agreement is rare.

When & If. If the results have fallen short of promise, the U.S. itseif is as much to blame as anyone else. When the U.S. Senate passed a treaty resolution accepting the Court's jurisdiction, Texas' Democratic Senator Tom Connally, the chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, tacked on an eight-word rider that deprived the Court of jurisdiction over any case the U.S. chose to call a "domestic" matter. Explained Connally: "We will go to Court if we feel like it."

The Russians have never needed to formulate a "Connally clause" of their own; although supplying judges to the Court, they have simply refused to accept any rulings. In 1959, when the U.S. sought to bring the Soviet Union to the world bar for shooting down a B-29 over Japanese waters, the judges were forced to drop the matter because Moscow argued that it was none of the Court's business.

Since 1946 the Court has handled 46 cases. Most spectacular was Britain's oil dispute with Iran in 1952, when Premier Mohammed Mossadegh himself appeared at the Court to defend nationalization of the British wells and refinery. When The Hague judges handed down an interim ruling in Britain's favor, Mossadegh simply declared that Iran would no longer accept the Court's jurisdiction. Last year the Court finally, after years of arguments, ruled for Honduras in the ancient Honduras-Nicaragua border squabble, but to this day the judges have received no official word as to whether Nicaragua agreed to obey the decree. (It has.)

Awaited Day. For the World Court's 15 judges (average age: 75), it is a leisurely life at $20,000 a year taxfree. Occasionally, someone inquires huffily about those long Christmas vacations (the last one lasted from mid-December to the end of March), but no one wants to take too sharp a dig at a worthy agency that could develop into a world organization with real influence. Wistfully, its supporters await the day when the U.S. Congress might screw up its courage, kill Tom Connally's rider, and commit the U.S. to accept the Court's decisions. The 1960 Democratic platform flatly recommended repeal, and both President Eisenhower and Vice President Nixon threw their weight behind the Court. But neither party is willing to make it an issue this year, especially after election last week of the Court's new president. His name: Bohdan Winiarski, 77, an eminent jurist from Communist Poland. "What!" snorted a Republican last week. "We change the rules with a Red in the top job?"

This week Winiarski and his 14 colleagues were settling back to ponder arguments on the kind of case the Court might be hearing for years to come. It was Cambodia's 50-year-old squabble with Thailand over ownership of a 1,000-year-old Buddhist temple that sits atop a 1,500-ft. cliff in Southeast Asia's Donrek peaks.

Fundamental change must come not from the Court but from its clients. Not until more nations are prepared to accept the compulsory jurisdiction of the judges will the Court be able to serve the function its founders dreamed of.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.