From Outrage to Engagement: Might Promoting Compliance Succeed Where Condemnation Has Failed?
The mood at this year’s European Humanitarian Forum (EHF) oscillated between frustration, foreboding, and a pervasive sense of hyper-normalization. The Secretary-General of the International Federation of the Red Cross, Jagan Chapagain, was quoted as saying “I am outraged. And I am tired of being outraged.” Filipo Grandi, High Commissioner for Refugees asked “How many more panels do I have to sit in on Sudan and repeat pretty much the same stuff and nothing changes on the ground?” His proposal that next year’s EHF focus on the crisis of respect for international humanitarian law (IHL) was met with rowdy applause.
Given the current global context, a measure of resignation seems warranted. More than 305 million people require humanitarian assistance and protection, with 114 million of these in need of urgent, life-saving intervention. Systematic violations of IHL are driving such numbers higher. Powerful States openly violate core principles of international law, undermining territorial sovereignty, misapplying force, sometimes even co-opting the language of international law to legitimize violations. Meanwhile, paralysis in global peace and security mechanisms is both prolonging existing conflicts and enabling new ones. Add to this the twin crises of liquidity and confidence that has beset the UN system, and a future where belligerents continue to act with impunity seems almost inevitable.
These conditions raise a pressing question: What could be done differently to get a better outcome? As Chapagain and Grandi make clear, calling out violations is not working. It may be preventing further deterioration, but it is not reining in unlawful attacks or restoring IHL as a normative red line.
This post argues that perhaps what is needed is a pivot, away from condemning violations and towards promoting compliance. In other words, maybe it’s not louder outrage that’s needed, but a different strategy. Three points should be considered.
Building a Case for IHL Compliance
Let’s start by unpacking what advocacy for IHL compliance might realistically look like. On the face of it, such an agenda has limited appeal. It would not be practical to congratulate every instance where the rules of IHL are followed, nor would it be appropriate. And who would be well-positioned to take on such a role? In the current moment, those leading on IHL advocacy comprise left-leaning States, multilateral agencies and mandated non-governmental organizations, actors with limited leverage over the States committing the most egregious violations.
The answer might lie in reimagining who are “influencers,” looking beyond the usual suspects such as the United States over Israel, or China over Russia. Neighbouring States, for instance, are often overlooked yet powerful stakeholders. Countries on a normal development trajectory lose an estimated 0.7 percent of GDP every year for each neighbour in conflict. Border countries also host around 70 percent of the world’s refugees. Because of this “skin in the game,” neighbours tend to be more pragmatic, time-sensitive, and less constrained by geopolitical grandstanding. In short, they are well-placed to deliver timely, context-sensitive messaging with credibility and impact.
The content of advocacy also needs to be thought about differently. Neighbours inherently understand the limits of narratives that are grounded solely in international law or moral imperative. Messaging that links adherence to IHL with broader goals such as stability, recovery, and national resilience is likely to have more resonance.
This is a space where more work can be done. Many humanitarian practitioners argue that certain IHL violations—particularly those that cause deep rifts in the social fabric such as sexual violence, destruction of places of worship, or targeting schools—can prolong conflict, intensify violence, and increase the likelihood of relapse. The empirical evidence remains underdeveloped, however. Humanitarian actors can play an active role in changing this, by leveraging their experience and investing in research that connects IHL compliance with long-term peace, recovery, and development outcomes.
Operationalizing Compliance
A second entry point concerns the practical measures that promote compliance during conflict. For example, it is widely documented that training militaries in IHL during peacetime impacts how soldiers behave during conflict, including in the areas of combat ethics and norms of restraint.
Beyond this, however, the enablers of compliance remain understudied and thus illusive. For example, are certain combinations of actor types, weapons, or terrain more conducive to IHL violations? If so, might this be harnessed to craft bespoke interventions aimed at protecting civilian populations. Humanitarian actors have learned that improved lighting in areas where women and girls collect water and access latrines reduces their vulnerability to sexual and gender-based violence. Conflict theatres are undoubtedly more complex, but the logic behind such thinking is the same.
A particularly promising area of inquiry is whether monitoring, fact-finding, and investigative mechanisms can meaningfully shape the conduct of parties to conflict. Indeed, the past decade has seen a sharp rise in both the UN Human Rights Council and General Assembly mandating such mechanisms, including ones that concern active conflicts. Significantly, many of the newer mandates go beyond documenting violations; they are also tasked with sharing evidence with accountability bodies, such as international courts.
Whether the message conveyed—that future accountability is possible—deters violations and/or promotes compliance is a vital question. If the answer is yes, under what conditions and with which types of actors do these processes exert influence? After all, fact-finding and investigation mechanisms are expensive, limited in scope, and vulnerable to politicization. This raises a question concerning whether lower-cost, scalable alternatives like open-source monitoring of IHL in conflict situations—such as that led by the Geneva Academy—could be equally effective?
Navigating IHL in a Fragmented Global Order
A final point is to interrogate the international community’s current approach to advocacy. As Chapagain and Grandi point out, admonishing violations seems to be falling on deaf ears. It is incumbent on us to unpack, not only why this is, but also what a better approach might be.
One observation is that as violations of IHL have grown increasingly egregious and traditional security mechanisms have stagnated, the response has been to double down on “common messaging” such as likeminded States and organizations issuing strong, consistent condemnations of non-compliance. At first glance, this seems both principled and justified. Calling out violations is regarded by many as a moral imperative in addition to a legal obligation. Yet, this approach must be scrutinized in light of the political environment into which such messaging is projected, a context marked by deep polarization, increasing apathy toward norms such as human rights, and growing resistance to perceptions of Western liberal hegemony.
Certainly, the last decade has witnessed the quiet emergence of a movement resisting Western normative dominance. Led by powerful non-aligned States that view themselves as necessary counterweights, this movement has also found resonance across the Global South, where many see Western hegemony as a barrier to development and to the realization of a more equitable, multipolar world order. Central to this movement has been the instrumentalization—and at times the rejection—of concepts such as universality and international law.
This is where the current advocacy strategy—centered on a strong, unified narrative that reflects a strict interpretation of IHL—becomes problematic. In today’s polarized context, a “you’re either with us or against us” message risks forcing States into binary positions: either aligning fully with a purist vision or being cast as rejectionist. This leaves some States stuck between a rock and a hard place, such as States that genuinely support international norms, but object to their selective application or to the perceived hypocrisy of States that decry IHL violations while profiting from, for instance, the arms trade.
In this light, strong and aligned advocacy may inadvertently contribute to further polarization by leaving no room for nuance, complexity, or contested perspectives. This raises a further vital question: Is it better to have a small group of States standing firmly by a strict vision of IHL, or to cultivate a broader coalition that, while not fully aligned, still collectively upholds the core tenets of IHL and is capable of pushing back against the most egregious abuses?
There may be no definitive answer, and perhaps both approaches can coexist. The challenge is to find ways of preserving the integrity of IHL while also engaging those who, though critical of its selective application, are nonetheless willing to uphold its spirit and purpose.
Final Thoughts: Preserving Norms through Pragmatism
This piece has explored a discomforting yet increasingly unavoidable question: What might the international community do differently to re-strengthen IHL as a normative red line? It posits that perhaps this “something different” is not more outrage, but rather a strategic pivot toward fostering compliance, however morally ambivalent that may feel.
The entry points proposed are far from easy. Training militaries to conduct war “legally” may sound like capitulation to violence, yet it reflects an important truth: IHL was never meant to end war, only to regulate its conduct. Likewise, building an evidence base to show how compliance contributes to peace, recovery, or stability feels overly transactional, less about principle than persuasion. But in a world where appeals to morality fall flat, evidence-based pragmatism may be the most effective way to reassert IHL’s normative power.
Importantly, focusing on compliance is not a retreat from values. It is a retooling of how we defend them. This means identifying strategies that work. We may wish States followed IHL because it’s the right thing to do. But if they follow it because it serves their interests or averts consequences, that’s still a win for those forced to live through the harsh realities of war. Over time, compliance driven by incentives or deterrence may create new expectations and norms. And those, in turn, can re-legitimize IHL’s moral force.
The final—and hardest—provocation is this: What if current advocacy approaches aren’t just ineffective but counterproductive? Could a strategy rooted in rigid messaging, moral absolutism, and political exclusion be hardening divisions and obstructing pathways to change? Critics worry that accommodating nuance or political reality could weaken red lines permanently. But for those enduring the consequences of unchecked violence, that trade-off may look different.
Ultimately, the question is how best to defend IHL in a world where the ground is shifting beneath our feet. In a multipolar, ideologically fragmented world, the tools of the past may not serve the goals of the future. To preserve the spirit of IHL, we may need to shed some of the orthodoxy around its advocacy. That means embracing complexity, engaging unlikely influencers, and recognizing that progress may come not from louder condemnation, but from smarter, more strategic engagement.
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Dr Erica Harper is Head of Research and Policy Studies at the Geneva Academy of International Humanitarian Law and Human Rights.
The views expressed are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect the official position of the United States Military Academy, Department of the Army, or Department of Defense.
Articles of War is a forum for professionals to share opinions and cultivate ideas. Articles of War does not screen articles to fit a particular editorial agenda, nor endorse or advocate material that is published. Authorship does not indicate affiliation with Articles of War, the Lieber Institute, or the United States Military Academy West Point.
Photo credit: Jaber Jehad Badwan
