Continuing the analysis in the previous chapter, here the author gives attention especially to the rapid growth of staff with its central question of whether a larger, internationalized staff will kill the goose that laid the golden egg. The chapter thus addresses whether more centralized and top-down management of multi-national personnel, evident in recent years, will stifle the creativity and accomplishments of heads of delegations and other staff members who in the past largely built the reputation of the organization. Some now believe the ICRC is no longer characterized by timely, flexible, and effective assistance and protection in its field activities. The chapter also studies the important subject of digital transformation at the Geneva headquarters and in the field. These two chapters on governance and management, especially difficult to construct, are central to understanding the ICRC in contemporary times.

This chapter focuses on a contemporary Movement agreement summarized as Sevilla 2.0. This 2022 agreement tries to specify a division of labor along with increased cooperation within the Movement, both longstanding concerns. Sevilla 2.0 reflects a semantic emphasis on local humanitarian actors, with much rhetoric about the importance of National RC Societies. The agreement shows a certain fatigue with establishment and Western-based (and Western-funded) organizations such as the ICRC. However, in Sevilla 2.0 the ICRC was able to protect its traditional roles and functions, while agreeing to be more of a team player. How the ICRC and its partners functioned in the Syrian armed conflict of 2011–2022 is then examined. This case shows a very complicated relationship between the ICRC and the Syrian Arab Red Crescent Society, on the one hand, and, on the other hand, between these two actors and various fighting parties, chief among which was the Assad government. The ICRC was compelled to abandon a fully Dunantist posture in the Syrian complex conflict. Comparisons are made with other organizations and conflicts.

Continuing the discussion about how the contemporary ICRC interprets its core mandate, or how it exercises its right of initiative, this chapter starts with the subject of low-level urban violence. The author understands how the organization gets drawn into situations such as Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, and Port au Prince, Haiti, but is doubtful the organization can have much impact in very large and dysfunctional urban centers such as Karachi or Lagos. Major humanitarian needs certainly exist in violent urban areas, but whether the ICRC is the right agency for addressing them merits review. Likewise, on dealing with irregular migrants, the author understands the focus on detention issues but doubts some of the other existing activities should be systematically or consistently addressed by the ICRC. There are many other actors active on irregular migration. The ICRC does indeed run the risk of losing its special niche and becoming a very broad, all purpose, do-gooder agency, as some critics fear. A dilemma is how to be a good team player within the RC Movement but not fall victim to mission creep.

Humanity and civility were established as new leading principles of international law during the last decades of the nineteenth century. But the restriction of war itself was a battlefield. Some authors conceptualised the restrictions on warfare explicitly as of a social custom quality or as ‘chivalric practices’ of ‘moral value only’. Probably the most fundamental attack on international law’s limits came from the idea of ‘military necessity’. It was limiting law’s limitations. And in its most radical variant, it was evoked not only in those cases which explicitly referred to it but in any regulation of warfare. This was a specific, particularly militaristic understanding of ‘necessity’, and its effect was unleashing: the laws of war would lose their binding force. Necessity could revocate any ties, be they moral or legal. Pre-1914 international law was in some areas pretty far away from humanisation, universalism, and also from positivism. It was relativising and legitimating excessive violence.

The principle of distinction in International Humanitarian Law sets up two entities, the civilian and the combatant, and organises the relationship between them. This socio-legal chapter draws on original research from South Sudan to explore how this principle is operationalised in humanitarian–peacekeeper interactions. Humanitarian actors routinely invoke ‘distinction’ as they navigate operational dilemmas with respect to the use of military assets, and in their relationship with the UN Mission in South Sudan more generally. Two ‘ideal types’ of humanitarian actor emerge here. The first type takes a strict approach to distinction, thinking long term and eschewing military asset use that undermines distinction. The second type interprets distinction flexibly and balances it with other goals such as reaching people in need; this exposes a hidden conflict between the principles of distinction and humanity. Through these everyday interactions – which sometimes involve drawing lines within the civilian category – humanitarian actors produce distinction in law, in practice, and in perception.

Sieges were central to the evolution of customary laws of war in early modern Europe and represented the most regularised form of warfare. They were also where civilians were most at risk of exposure to the violence of conventional war, including the phenomenon of sack. A besieging force that stormed a town had the right to put the garrison to the sword and to sack the town. Yet the long tradition of sack has been neglected by historians, only now emerging as a subject of study in its own right. This chapter explores the history of sieges, sack, and the laws of war in Western Europe over the course of the long eighteenth century (1660–1815). It highlights sieges as an important but relatively neglected place for examining changes and continuities in customary laws of war, ideals of barbarity and civility, and moral sentiment over the long eighteenth century.

This chapter explores the protections afforded under the laws of war to young women and girls who, over the course of a single conflict, may occupy the roles of a child, a civilian, a combatant, a killer, a victim of sexual violence, and/or a mother. But rather than exploring this question into relation to women and girls as a homogenous group, it focuses on one young woman in one conflict, the so-called Second Congo War. Drawing on testimony provided by this witness during the Ntaganda case at the International Criminal Court (ICC), the chapter presents a critical view on the role of law in war. It observes that even with advances in legal protections for women and girls, as demonstrated by this important ICC case, in practical terms these actors often have no one to protect them but themselves.

This chapter examines several cases of interaction between the ICRC and Bern, emphasizing ICRC President Cornelio Sommaruga’s concern to buttress ICRC independence circa 1993, an orientation continued by his successor, ICRC President Jakob Kellenberger. This is contrasted with different policies during the era of ICRC President Peter Maurer. The relationship between Bern and Geneva will always be unique, since Bern has a special status in international humanitarian law, and because Bern is a significant donor to the ICRC’s budget. But the chapter argues for more attention to the differences between ICRC humanitarian neutrality and Swiss political neutrality, whether at the United Nations or in Ukraine.

This historical chapter explains the origins of the ICRC in Geneva immediately before and after 1863 and the organization’s very early activities. It goes into some detail about the two key founding fathers, Henry Dunant and Gustave Moynier. The focus on two key persons gives flesh and blood to early developments for both the ICRC and the global Red Cross network that the ICRC initiated and helped structure. Religious origins are contrasted with secular evolution. Amateurism is contrasted with a quest for professionalization. Flexible decision-making is noted. Also mentioned are Genevan Exceptionalism and Swiss nationalism. This chapter allows a vivid contrast between the early ICRC and the organization it has become in contemporary times.

In appreciating the institutional perpetuity of war, while simultaneously acknowledging the historically informed, inherent limitations of attempts to bound its conduct by international law, this chapter introduces the three interrelated questions that serve as the organising themes of this volume: first, is there a historical continuity with legal protections in war being informed by notions of ‘civility’ and ‘barbarity’?; second, what is the relationship between the ideals and operational realities in international humanitarian law (IHL)?; and third, what are the limitations of international laws designed to restrain excess in war? Via a brief overview of the divergent evolutions of jus ad bellum and jus in bello law, this introductory chapter further explores the sub-themes present in this volume: universalism and its shortcomings; problems with punishing violations of IHL; and the degree to which modern laws of war legitimate activities that should otherwise be prohibited.

Despite its often poor reputation and the scaremongering that accompanied its growth, the private military and security industry does not threaten the content or spirit of international humanitarian law (IHL). Nonetheless, concerns remain about both the behaviour of actors within the industry – private military and security companies (PMSCs), their employees, and employers – as well as the interest and capacity of states to hold these actors to account. There is a tension, therefore, between the clear applicability of IHL to PMSCs and doubts about its enforcement. The private military and security industry illustrates the gap between the ideals of IHL and its operational reality, and how this gap has then informed the creation of new soft law frameworks. In recent decades, international efforts have sought to further establish such guidance for the behaviour and use of PMSCs. One such effort, the Montreux Document, is an initiative of the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) and Swiss Government, restating existing standards. While the Document has seen success in terms of state engagement and participation, PMSCs and their employers, as well as the broader regulatory climate around PMSCs, appear largely unaffected.