The chapter assesses the effectiveness of the ICJ. The authors set out an evaluative framework for assessing the Court’s effectiveness, adopting a goals-based analysis. They identify the ICJ’s goals, and then consider the structural features of the Court that assist and hinder it from achieving those goals. By reference to specific examples, the authors then consider whether the ICJ has achieved its goals in practice, concluding that its record of achievement produces mixed results, but highlighting the Court’s success in preserving confidence in international adjudication.

This chapter explains the Court’s significant role as the ‘master of the sources’ of international law. The author considers what he defines as the ‘repressive dimension of Article 38’, before turning to consider the ways in which the Court has concretely used its role in respect of the sources of international law. Finally, the chapter critically examines how repression and mastery can often work together in international legal thought.

The International Court of Justice held its first sitting on 18 April 1946 and heard its first two cases in 1948: it heard preliminary objections in The Corfu Channel Case from late February to early March, and it held hearings in the advisory opinion on Conditions of Admission of a State to Membership in the United Nations (Article 4 of the Charter) in late April. Those first two cases were emblematic of the kinds of disputes that the Court would eventually hear and resolve as part of its ordinary caseload: they both dealt with practical issues, with significant political implications, and were an opportunity for the Court to provide guidance to the broader international community on disputed issues of international law. They provided the Court with scope to fulfil its mandate as the principal judicial organ of the United Nations; to function as a prominent interpreter of international law, as it is used and applied in practice. As international law has become more present in global policy-making and in academic and journalistic commentary, the International Court has come to occupy an essential and increasingly visible role in international relations, and has exercised jurisdiction over a significant number of international disputes addressing the same matters as are being wrestled with in the halls of the United Nations, and in ministries of foreign affairs across the world, and are being discussed as leading stories in international newspapers.

The second part concludes with a chapter on effective advocacy before the ICJ, by Samuel Wordsworth QC and Kate Parlett. It examines both written and oral advocacy before the Court, with the fundamental objective of the advocate in all cases being to persuade, making it essential to consider what will be of most utility to the judges when they come to reach a decision on the case. They also emphasise the significant role the advocate has to play in the pre-litigation stage and in early procedural exchanges: she or he must bear in mind that they have a dual function of presenting the best case for the client to the Court, while also persuading the client as to the most effective way in which to do that.

This chapter assesses the contribution of the ICJ to the law of international organisations. It emphasises the limited role of the Court in this field, setting out the multiple reasons for this: parts of the law were developed before the Court commenced its work; and the Court has only had intermittent opportunities to consider it through its cases. The author argues that the Court’s approach reflects a more general ambivalence of classic international law when it comes to international institutions: that it emphasises the centrality of States in the international legal system, notwithstanding the steps that have been taken by States to institutionalise significant areas of international law.

This chapter examines the law of treaties in the jurisprudence of the ICJ. The author highlights the Court’s position on key selected issues of interpretation: specifically the language of the treaty; time and treaty interpretation; and the role of policy. The chapter also considers issues of systemic integration, hierarchy and concurrence of rules.

The chapter provides a thorough analysis of the Court’s jurisdiction to order provisional measures and its procedure. The author identifies an evolution in the Court’s practice on provisional measures, with the Court most recently developing specific conditions for the indication of provisional measures. The author examines those conditions and their elaboration through the Court’s caselaw, together with the Court’s findings as to the binding effect of its provisional measures orders.

This chapter considers the question of Ishiguro and Japan by discussing the author’s engagement with Japanese history in An Artist of the Floating World. Ishiguro says that he is not interested in documenting detailed history in his novels: rather, history is little more than a general background against which characters’ psychological dramas are staged. Set in Japan immediately after the end of the Pacific War, Ishiguro’s second novel is intended to be no exception. However, in view of the way that the novel thematizes such a sensitive issue as artists’ war responsibility, it is important to know about the historical reality and to understand how Ishiguro adapts and fictionalizes it. The chapter focuses on the way artists’ war responsibility was debated in post-war Japan and places Masuji Ono, the narrator Ishiguro created, in that historical context. In the process, Ishiguro’s particular concerns are thrown into relief. This kind of historical reading is necessary not least because problems of the period depicted by the novel haunt the Japanese even now.

Ishiguro’s fictions are peopled by individuals for whom affect, and the expression of affect, is compromised by their own emotional opacity, by their adherence to strictly if arbitrarily constructed social codes, and by their overwhelming but therefore hardly acknowledged sense of remorse or regret. While the protagonist-butler Stevens in The Remains of the Day is the most famous instance of the dilemma, the chapter focuses on An Artist of the Floating World and The Buried Giant in order to work through the consequences of emotional upheaval in the novels. Ishiguro writes paradoxically affecting first-person narratives by individuals who pride themselves on maintaining a seemingly affectless rhetorical deportment.

This chapter revisits the classic issue of the origins of Latin American independence and questions a set of prevailing historiographic assumptions. From a review of political conspiracies and mobilizations in eighteenth-century Latin America, it argues that Spanish and Portuguese colonial sovereignty faced significant challenges well before the Napoleonic invasion of the Iberian Peninsula in 1807; that the role of popular sectors was crucial to revolutionary and counterrevolutionary politics in the eighteenth century; and that the conflicts in Iberian American territory were linked to wider political dynamics in the Atlantic world. Without adopting a determinist argument that Bourbon reform or American identity explains Latin American independence in the nineteenth century, the chapter disputes the idea that a stable and legitimate “old regime” only unraveled after 1808. It also suggests that significant patterns of political contestation in the late colonial period found new expression in the novel context of the early nineteenth century.

While not typically considered a postcolonial writer, Ishiguro’s work often engages with the question of British and Japanese imperialism and colonialism, either directly in works such as An Artist of the Floating World, When We Were Orphans, and the Ishiguro-scripted film The White Countess, or through subtle allusion to the American post-war occupation of Japan in A Pale View of Hills or the Suez Crisis in The Remains of the Day. Writing from the ‘inside’, from the perspective of individuals who are unwittingly complicit in the structures of oppression entailed by colonial rule, Ishiguro offers complex and unsettlingly sympathetic depictions of the psychological denials and displacements that allow individuals to operate within these regimes. Focusing on An Artist of the Floating World, When We Were Orphans, and The White Countess, this chapter responds to the ways in which Ishiguro’s fiction attends to the relationship between individual and collective responsibility and historico-political forces.