Sergii Masol is Humboldt postdoctoral research fellow at the University of Cologne

On 24 August 2023, Ukrainians celebrated Independence Day. It also marked one year and a half since Russia launched the full-scale invasion of Ukraine, which is a sharp escalation of the imperialist war of aggression waged by Russia in February 2014. The President and the Board of the European Society of International Law (hereinafter, the ESIL) condemned this aggression, but their counterparts in the Asian Society of International Law (hereinafter, the AsianSIL) kept silent. In light of such contrasting messages, my blog post provides some insights into the debates on the Russo-Ukrainian war permeating the ESIL Research Forum in Tartu, Estonia, in April 2023 and the AsianSIL Biennial Conference in Bandung, Indonesia, in August 2023. These academic events were the first major conferences of the esteemed societies for which the calls for papers post-dated 24 February 2022.

Tartu

In Estonia, which itself used to be occupied by the Soviet Union, you could feel the proximity to the Russo-Ukrainian war. In addition to providing military and humanitarian aid to Ukraine, this Baltic state granted temporary protection to displaced Ukrainians. In the city of Tartu, you could hear the Ukrainian language in the streets, shops and public transport. Some buildings were decorated with the blue-and-yellow flags in solidarity with Ukrainians.

Despite the great support of Ukraine in Estonia, the spectre of Russian imperialism was haunting the ESIL Research Forum. To begin with, the concept of the ‘post-Soviet’ space appeared to be the nexus between Eastern Europe and Central Asia, as evidenced by some papers and the overall theme of the conference, namely ‘Regional Developments of International Law in Eastern Europe and Post-Soviet Eurasia’. This concept did not escape the opprobrium of participants from Eastern Europe, and rightly so, because it demonstrates the colonial way of thinking based on the flat denial of the right of peoples, particularly Ukrainians, to self-determination (for more criticism, see here and here). Moreover, two out of nine panels expressly zoomed in on the Russian approaches to international law, but there were no panels on other national approaches. For instance, my presentation, which dissected inter alia the Ukrainian understandings of genocide, could have been placed easily within a category of Ukrainian approaches to international law. Indeed, the dominance of the Russian-focused debates in the Eastern European context continues to be a burning issue not only in Eastern European Studies (see e.g. here, here and here), but also international law. This structural bias perpetuates ‘a paradigm whereby Russia’s former colonies are perceived as remaining within Russia’s orbit long after the collapse of the Russian Empire and Soviet Union’.

On the other hand, going to the opposite extreme is way off the mark as well. One presenter from a Western European university who juxtaposed the Western and Russian arguments on passportisation paid no heed to those of Ukraine, assuming that Western and Ukrainian views are identical. However, this is not necessarily the case. Again, the agency of Ukraine and the relevance of Ukrainian legal scholarship were denied outright.

As a result, the task of providing Ukrainian perspectives rested primarily on the shoulders of Ukrainian participants. Out of thirty-two presenters in Tartu, only two hailed from Ukraine, but neither of them was affiliated with Ukrainian universities. In general, the ESIL Research Forum did not bring many legal scholars from Eastern European universities together, which illustrates the enduring division of the regional academia into the Western European centre and the Eastern European (semi)periphery.

Bandung

Indonesia looked politically and culturally distant from Ukraine. Nevertheless, laypeople were disquieted by the Russo-Ukrainian war, not least because it caused a rise in food prices. For example, a taxi driver told me, ‘People in Indonesia want peace’. ‘So do people in Ukraine’, I replied, ‘And this is why Ukraine has to fight now like Indonesia did during the War of Independence’. Another thing that struck me was an abundance of national flags everywhere, commemorating the anniversary of Indonesia’s proclamation of independence from the Dutch colonial empire on 17 August 1945. Interestingly, these red-and-white flags are not about peace. As elucidated in the National Museum of Indonesia, the red colour lauds ‘the courage to fight the colonialists’ and the white colour denotes ‘the pure intentions of the national heroes in defending and fighting for Indonesia’s independence’.

The AsianSIL Biennial Conference ‘Reconstructing the Bandung Spirit for Asia to Lead in the New Era of International Law’ focused on Asia. Out of almost a hundred presenters, nobody was affiliated with Eastern European universities and I was the only person from Eastern Europe: Ukraine, to be precise. Yet, the subject of the Russo-Ukrainian war was recurrently broached, as it has significant consequences on the well-being of virtually all nations. Whereas some Asian presenters correctly called it Russia’s aggression against Ukraine, others nurtured the Kremlin’s propaganda by using the amorphous term ‘conflict’ or misled the audience by the expression ‘the Ukraine war’, which disregards the role of Russia as an aggressor (for more criticism, see here, here and here).

The overall theme of the AsianSIL Biennial Conference—dedicated to the Asian-African (Bandung) Conference of 1955—begged the question of Russian imperialism, which, however, was not addressed at the first plenary session. So, I had a stab at debating this acute problem. To my mind, the constructive ambiguities of the Bandung spirit provided a fertile ground for the growth of Russian imperialism. While declaring that ‘colonialism in all its manifestations is an evil which should speedily be brought to an end’, the Asian-African Conference did not explicitly censure the imperialist activities of the Soviet government in the Baltic region, Eastern Europe or Central Asia. Against the backdrop of Western colonialism and wrongdoings in Iraq, Afghanistan and Libya, the Global South follows the same short-sighted approach today by ignoring the anti-colonial nature of the Ukrainian struggle against Russia (but see here). During the Q&A, the non-Western panellists glossed over my inquiry and the Western legal scholar, referring to the ill-famed Australian bluntness, went through the roof and professed the complexity of the problem under discussion.

In a world of collective inertia where Asian legal scholars eschew a public discussion of non-Western imperialism and Western legal scholars are either preoccupied with criticisms of the West or deemed untrustworthy, who else, if not the peoples historically oppressed by Russia, would overtly excoriate Russian imperialism? At the second plenary session, only the legal scholars from Central Asia and Ukraine went out on a limb and candidly talked about this life-and-death issue. At the same time, the President of the AsianSIL gave a specious emphasis to peace. Nevertheless, his reasoning parted from the Bandung spirit. He did not mention the subjection of the Ukrainian people to the subjugation and domination by Russia, which constitutes ‘an impediment to the promotion of world peace’, according to the Final Communiqué of the Asian-African Conference. Nor did he stress that Ukraine’s non-bloc status, reduction of armaments and complete nuclear disarmament in the period preceding Russia’s aggression failed to ensure peace. All in all, his bombastically balanced presentation of the legal arguments of Russia and Ukraine, along with his disappointment about the absence of Russian scholars in the hall who could defend the Kremlin, sounded like a textbook example of bothsidesism in an open-and-shut case of one-sided expansionism.

Comparisons and Conclusions

The ESIL and the AsianSIL are regional societies, but the heated debates at the ESIL Research Forum in Tartu and the AsianSIL Biennial Conference in Bandung transcended the respective regions and included the Russo-Ukrainian war. A key distinction was the treatment of Russian imperialism, i.e. the root cause of this war. At the ESIL Research Forum, speakers had no difficulty in condemning Russia’s imperialist war of aggression against Ukraine. Yet, it would take long even for the ESIL members to shake off the shadows of empire. In particular, the Russian-focused debates and the injudicious choice of ‘post-Soviet’ labels prioritised the agency of Russia and its approaches to international law and concomitantly marginalised Russia’s former colonies as subaltern actors. By way of comparison, many scholars at the AsianSIL Biennial Conference steered clear of scrutinising Russian imperialism in public. Rather, they tried to hide behind a smokescreen of complexity, pseudo-neutrality, peacemongering or false balances. In both Tartu and Bandung, some presenters lacked a deep knowledge of Ukraine, which did not prevent them from foisting their preconceived analytical schemata and political opinions on Eastern Europe. The active participation of scholars from Eastern Europe and Central Asia played a pivotal role in exposing the blind spots of dominant analytical lenses, raising awareness of Russian imperialism and improving the knowledge of Ukraine. To make sense of Russia, it is imperative to lend an ear to those who experienced Russian colonial rule. To understand Ukraine, one needs to study the Ukrainian language, history, politics, legal system and culture. Since few international lawyers have such expertise, more voice should be given to specialists from the oppressed nations, notably Ukraine, seeking liberation from the russkiy mir (see here and here).

Photo collage of Tartu and Bandung, by Sergii Masol.