“It follows that the state which has gone to war in violation of its obligations acquires no right to equality of treatment from other states, unless treaty obligations require different handling of affairs. It derives no rights from its illegality.
“In flagrant cases of aggression where the facts speak so unambiguously that world opinion takes what may be the equivalent of judicial notice, we may not stymie international law and allow these great treaties to become dead letters. The intelligent public opinion of the world which is not afraid to be vocal, and the action of the American States, has made a determination that the Axis Powers are the aggressors in the wars today, which is an appropriate basis in the present state of international organizations for our policy.”
Thus, there is no doubt that by the time the National Socialist State of Germany had embarked upon the preparation of the war of aggression against the civilized world and by the time it had accomplished that design, aggressive war had become, in virtue of the Pact of Paris and the other treaties and declarations to which I have referred, illegal and a crime beyond all uncertainty and doubt. And it is on that proposition, and fundamentally on that universal treaty, the Kellogg-Briand Pact, that Count Two of this Indictment is principally based.
The Prosecution has deemed it necessary—indeed, imperative—to establish beyond all possibility of question, at what I am afraid may appear to be excessive length, that only superficial learning or culpable sentimentality can assert that there is any significant element of retroactivity in the determination of the authors of this Charter to treat aggressive war as conduct which international law has prohibited and stigmatized as criminal. We have traced the progressive limitation of the rights of war, the renunciation and condemnation of wars of aggression, and above all, the total prohibition and condemnation of all wars conceived as an instrument of national policy. What statesman or politician in charge of the affairs of nations could doubt, from 1928 onwards, that aggressive war, or that all war, except in self-defense or for the collective enforcement of the law, or against a state which had itself violated the Pact of Paris, was unlawful and outlawed? What statesman or politician embarking upon such a war could reasonably and justifiably count upon an immunity other than that of a successful outcome of the criminal venture? What more decisive evidence of a prohibition laid down by positive international law could any lawyer desire than that which has been adduced before this Tribunal?
There are, it is true, some small town lawyers who deny the very existence of any international law; and indeed, as I have said, the rules of the law of nations may not satisfy the Austinian test of being imposed by a sovereign. But the legal regulation of international relations rests upon quite different juridical foundations. It depends upon consent, but upon a consent which, once given, cannot be withdrawn by unilateral action. In the international field the source of law is not the command of a sovereign but the treaty agreement binding upon every state which has adhered to it. And it is indeed true, and the recognition of its truth today by all the great powers of the world is vital to our future peace—it is indeed true that, as M. Litvinov once said, and as Great Britain fully accepts:
“Absolute sovereignty and entire liberty of action only belong to such states as have not undertaken international obligations. Immediately a state accepts international obligations it limits its sovereignty.”
In that way and that way alone lies the future peace of the world. Yet it may be argued that although war itself was outlawed and forbidden, it was not criminally outlawed and criminally forbidden. International law, it may be said, does not attribute criminality to states and still less to individuals. But can it really be said on behalf of these defendants that the offense of these aggressive wars, which plunged millions of people to their death, which by dint of War Crimes and Crimes against Humanity brought about the torture and extermination of countless thousands of innocent civilians, which devastated cities, which destroyed the amenities—nay, the most rudimentary necessities of civilization in many countries—which has brought the world to the brink of ruin from which it will take generations to recover—will it seriously be said by these defendants that such a war is only an offense, only an illegality, only a matter of condemnation perhaps sounding in damages, but not a crime justiciable by any Tribunal? No law worthy of the name can allow itself to be reduced to an absurdity in that way, and certainly the great powers responsible for this Charter were not prepared to admit it. They draw the inescapable conclusion from the renunciation, the prohibition, the condemnation of war which had become part of the law of nations, and they refuse to reduce justice to impotence by subscribing to the outworn doctrines that a sovereign state can commit no crime and that no crime can be committed on behalf of the sovereign state by individuals acting in its behalf. They refuse to stultify themselves, and their refusal and their decision has decisively shaped the law for this Tribunal.
If this be an innovation, it is an innovation long overdue—a desirable and beneficent innovation fully consistent with justice, fully consistent with common sense and with the abiding purposes of the law of nations. But is it indeed an innovation? Or is it no more than the logical development of the law? There was indeed a time when international lawyers used to maintain that the liability of the state, because of its sovereignty, was limited to a contractual responsibility. International tribunals have not accepted that view. They have repeatedly affirmed that a state can commit a tort; that it may be guilty of trespass, of nuisance, and of negligence. And they have gone further. They have held that a state may be bound to pay what are in effect penal damages. In a recent case decided in 1935 between the United States and Canada, an arbitral tribunal, with the concurrence of its American member, decided that the United States were bound to pay what amounted to penal damages for an affront to Canadian sovereignty. And on a wider plane, the Covenant of the League of Nations, in providing for sanctions, recognized the principle of enforcement of the law against collective units, such enforcement to be, if necessary, of a penal character. And so there is not anything startlingly new in the adoption of the principle that the state as such is responsible for its criminal acts. In fact, save for reliance on the unconvincing argument of sovereignty, there is in law no reason why a state should not be answerable for crimes committed on its behalf. A hundred years ago Dr. Lushington, a great English Admiralty judge, refused to admit that a state could not be a pirate. History—very recent history—does not warrant the view that a state cannot be a criminal. On the other hand, the immeasurable potentialities for evil, inherent in the state in this age of science and organization would seem to demand, quite imperatively, means of repression of criminal conduct even more drastic and more effective than in the case of individuals. And insofar, therefore, as this Charter has put on record the principle of the criminal responsibility of the state, it must be applauded as a wise and far-seeing measure of international legislation.