Who Writes the Rules?

02-02-2026

When Western leaders refer to the idea of a rules-based international order, they do so with the certainty of priests reciting doctrine. The phrase appears repeatedly in speeches, press conferences, and diplomatic communications. It promises a world governed by impartial principles, where violations are condemned regardless of who commits them. It is an attractive idea. It is also, in practice, a fiction. What is described as the rules-based order functions less as law and more as a narrative. It disciplines weaker states while allowing stronger ones room to maneuver, all under the appearance of neutrality.

Postmodern political thought helps explain how this works. In the contemporary world, power rarely operates through open conquest or formal empire. Instead, it functions through language, norms, institutions, and moral claims. The rules-based order is one such framework. It offers a shared account of how global politics is supposed to function and, in doing so, legitimizes certain actions while rendering others unacceptable.

Jean-François Lyotard famously argued that modern societies were held together by grand narratives: sweeping stories about progress, reason, and universal emancipation. These narratives legitimized political authority and gave history a sense of direction. Postmodernity, Lyotard suggested, is defined by skepticism toward such totalizing stories.

Yet the rules-based international order is itself a grand narrative. It tells a comforting story about the postwar world: sovereign states bound by law, cooperating through institutions, resolving disputes peacefully, and protecting human rights. The United Nations, international courts, and global treaties are presented as evidence that power has finally submitted to law.

The legitimating force of this story is immense. Military actions are framed as enforcement rather than aggression. Sanctions are presented as moral punishment rather than economic coercion. Alliances appear as guardians of stability. Through this narrative, power is transformed from self-interest into responsibility.

The problem emerges when this story is measured against practice. The same rules are enforced strictly in some cases and interpreted generously in others. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine is treated as an existential threat to international law. Israel’s military operations in Gaza are justified as self-defense, despite the scale of civilian suffering. Serbia is disciplined, while NATO is accommodated. The language remains consistent, but its application does not.

Michel Foucault’s work on power and discourse is particularly instructive here. He showed that law does not merely limit power; it also produces legitimacy. Legal frameworks define what counts as normal, acceptable, and punishable. Law does not stand outside politics. It is one of its most effective instruments.

International law operates in much the same way. It presents itself as universal and impartial, yet it functions within an unequal global distribution of power. Concepts such as sovereignty, aggression, proportionality, and humanitarian intervention form a shared legal vocabulary through which political decisions are justified.

The International Criminal Court offers a revealing example. The ICC has indicted numerous individuals, the overwhelming majority of them from African states. Sitting heads of state targeted by the court have almost exclusively come from weaker countries. Meanwhile, major powers and their allies remain largely beyond its reach, protected by geopolitical influence or by their refusal to accept the court’s jurisdiction.

This pattern cannot be explained solely by technical legal limitations. It reflects the structure of power within which international law operates. Some actors are implicitly understood as enforcers of the order, while others are cast as potential violators. This distinction is not written into treaties, but it profoundly shapes how those treaties are interpreted and applied.

Jacques Derrida argued that justice can never be fully contained within law. Laws are general rules, but every real case is particular. Applying a rule always involves interpretation and judgment. What justice demands in any specific situation cannot be determined mechanically in advance.

This tension runs throughout the rules-based order. International law is filled with competing principles. Sovereignty conflicts with human rights. Non-intervention clashes with the responsibility to protect. Self-determination sits uneasily alongside territorial integrity. These contradictions cannot be resolved by legal formulas alone.

Political decisions are therefore unavoidable. Which principle is emphasized in a given crisis depends less on legal reasoning than on strategic interest. Russia invokes the protection of minorities. Western states emphasize the defense of sovereignty. Both claims draw on international law. What ultimately determines success is not jurisprudence, but power.

Selective enforcement is often dismissed as hypocrisy. This explanation is too shallow. Selective enforcement is not a failure of the system; it is how the system sustains itself. If international rules constrained powerful states as strictly as they constrain weaker ones, those states would simply abandon the framework.

Economic sanctions illustrate this clearly. The United States and its allies impose sanctions frequently, sometimes without United Nations authorization. These measures are presented as legitimate tools for enforcing global norms. When other states attempt similar actions, they are accused of violating international law or engaging in economic warfare. The instrument does not change. Only the identity of the actor does.

Humanitarian intervention follows a similar logic. NATO’s intervention in Kosovo was justified as a moral necessity despite lacking UN authorization. When Russia later used humanitarian language to justify interventions in Georgia or Ukraine, those claims were dismissed as cynical pretexts. The difference lies not in the logic of the argument, but in the geopolitical position of the speaker.

The contrast between international responses to recent conflicts makes this dynamic difficult to ignore. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine triggered sweeping sanctions, military assistance to Kyiv, diplomatic isolation, and legal action against Russian officials. These measures were justified as a defense of the international order itself.

By contrast, Israel’s war in Gaza has resulted in extensive civilian deaths, widespread destruction, and a severe humanitarian crisis. Yet Western governments continue to supply arms, block ceasefire resolutions, and question the authority of international courts. Actions that would provoke condemnation if carried out by an adversary are defended when undertaken by an ally.

This is not merely a moral failure. It is the rules-based order functioning according to its internal logic. Legal language provides the framework through which power distinguishes between legitimate and illegitimate violence. Allies are interpreted generously, while adversaries are judged harshly.

The rules-based order endures because it serves important purposes. For powerful states, it offers moral cover and institutional legitimacy. For weaker states, it provides a language through which to make claims, appeal to norms, and sometimes mobilize international pressure. Narratives matter, and they can constrain behavior at the margins.

But narratives do not replace power. They shape how power appears and how it is justified in a world that no longer openly accepts empire. The rules-based order is best understood not as an impartial legal system, but as a discursive framework within which global politics is contested.

Recognizing this does not require abandoning international law. It requires seeing it clearly. The powerful are not governed by the rules in the same way as the weak. The rules are written, interpreted, and enforced within an unequal world. Acknowledging this reality is the first step toward any serious discussion of justice in international politics.