Complexities behind The Hague’s first full genocide case in a decade Killing of Rohingya people in Myanmar in spotlight

Nearly a decade after Myanmar’s military launched what the United Nations described as a “textbook example of ethnic cleansing,” the world’s highest court is hearing its first full genocide case in more than ten years. At the International Court of Justice (ICJ) in The Hague, the small West African nation of The Gambia has accused Myanmar of attempting to destroy the Rohingya people, a Muslim minority concentrated in the country’s western Rakhine State.

Acting under the Genocide Convention, The Gambia - with no direct ties to Southeast Asia — has brought the case against the Southeast Asian country. As highlighted in an article by Geopolitical Monitor, the significance of the proceedings extends well beyond the legal claims themselves.

The case, the article argues, is a test of the “moral weather” of the international system and of whether the promise made after 1945 still carries weight when confronted by raw power. That The Gambia — a country of just two million people - has invoked universal obligations against Myanmar, boasting a population of more than 55 million, with diplomatic backing from some of the world’s most influential actors, is in itself historically unprecedented.

The evidence laid before the court is stark. During the military’s 2016–17 “clearance operations” in Rakhine State — the term used by Myanmar’s government for the military’s actions — armed forces destroyed more than 350 villages, killed at least 6,000 Rohingya in a matter of weeks, and forced approximately 740,000 people to flee across the border into Bangladesh. Today, more than 1.1 million Rohingya live in the overcrowded camps of Cox’s Bazar, forming the largest refugee settlement in the world.

According to the publication’s analysis, what makes the Rohingya case particularly confronting is not only the scale of the violence, but its bureaucratic normality. The campaign unfolded under a civilian-led government that enjoyed broad international goodwill. In 2019, then–State Counsellor Aung San Suu Kyi, who was awarded the 1991 Nobel Peace Prize for her non-violent struggle for democracy, personally defended Myanmar before the ICJ, rejecting allegations of genocide and framing the military’s actions as counter-terrorism measures.

The subsequent collapse of Myanmar’s fragile democracy following the 2021 military coup did not alter that stance. The junta now ruling from Naypyidaw continues to deny wrongdoing, even as armed conflict has spread across the country and Rakhine State has once again descended into war.

The ICJ’s involvement highlights a deeper structural failure in the global system. Criminal tribunals target individuals, sanctions punish regimes selectively, and humanitarian responses address symptoms rather than causes. The Genocide Convention, by contrast, was designed to impose collective responsibility — the principle that genocide is a crime against all humanity and that any state has the right to act to prevent or punish it.

The Court’s provisional measures issued in 2020 were therefore a pivotal moment. Myanmar was unanimously ordered to prevent genocidal acts, preserve evidence, and submit regular reports on its compliance. Few ICJ rulings impose such continuing obligations. While the Court lacks enforcement powers, the orders established a legal and moral record that cannot easily be erased. They also raised a troubling question that continues to loom over the case, namely if a state can ignore binding orders from the world’s highest court, what does that say about the durability of international law itself?

Geopolitics further complicate the Court’s task. As the article notes, China has consistently shielded Myanmar from binding action at the United Nations Security Council, limiting international pressure.

In contrast, the Islamic world has played a decisive — if often overlooked — role. The Organization of Islamic Cooperation provided political and financial backing for The Gambia’s case, transforming widespread outrage into a coordinated legal effort. Bangladesh, which hosts more than one million Rohingya refugees at immense social and economic cost, has also pushed relentlessly for accountability, warning that prolonged displacement risks radicalization and broader regional instability.

The ICJ’s final judgment, expected months or possibly longer after hearings conclude at the end of January, will be legally binding. Whether it will ultimately strengthen or further expose the limits of international law remains one of the most consequential questions hanging over the case.

By Nazrin Sadigova