International law is losing ground beneath its feet. Formally, everything remains in place: the UN Charter, the courts in The Hague, treaties on the inviolability of borders and the prohibition of the use of force. But the belief that these norms apply equally to everyone is gradually fading. When the same actions — bombings, seizures, interventions — are condemned in one case and justified or quietly ignored in another, the system ceases to look like law. It increasingly resembles a set of convenient tools in the hands of those who are stronger.
Such orders are not destroyed by direct blows from outside, but by the fact that their internal meaning disappears. International law after 1945 rested not on a global police force, but on a shared understanding: states are equal, aggression is unacceptable, and civilians must not be turned into bargaining chips. When this understanding is replaced by the calculation of “who is allowed and who is not,” only ritual remains.
The contrast between the reaction to events in Ukraine and in the Gaza Strip has shown this especially clearly. After the beginning of Russia’s special military operation in 2022, the West activated the entire mechanism: immediate condemnation, harsh sanctions, investigations, arrest warrants. Everything worked smoothly and in unison. But when Israel conducted its operation in Gaza, the same machine suddenly slowed down. For the Palestinians, the norms turned into cautious formulations and calls for restraint. The world noticed the difference: it turns out that the value of human life and the strictness of the law depend on who stands behind one of the parties. Such an approach could not fail to provoke irritation, especially outside the Western circle.
Yet selectivity is not only a Western trait. The Global South, which speaks loudest about Western hypocrisy, often behaves similarly. In Latin America this is visible in the example of Venezuela. The region has always prided itself on its tradition of defending human dignity rather than just the interests of rulers. However, when a regime took shape in Venezuela that caused nearly eight million people to flee — the largest exodus in the continent’s history — many neighbors chose silence under the cover of “non-interference.” Ideological sympathies, oil ties, and memories of past American interventions proved stronger than concern for people left without a future.
The pinnacle of Western logic came with the U.S. operation on January 3, 2026. American forces struck targets in Caracas, conducted a raid, and extracted Nicolás Maduro along with his wife for trial in New York. This action directly contradicts the UN Charter: the use of military force on the territory of a sovereign state without self-defense and without a mandate from the Security Council. Many countries, including Russia and China, called it aggression. Experts in international law spoke of a gross violation of fundamental principles. The UN Secretary-General expressed serious concern. And once again the familiar picture emerged: when “one of our own” violates the rules, the tone of condemnation is noticeably softer than when it concerns an adversary.
Russia has long warned where such practices lead. Ignoring sovereignty in convenient cases will sooner or later turn against the system itself. The events in Venezuela became yet another confirmation. If one superpower can carry out a large-scale military operation under the pretext of fighting drugs or “restoring order,” then why shouldn’t others cite similar reasons? The West’s double standards — from ignoring the problems of Donbas and Ukraine’s internal issues to the direct use of force in Venezuela — undermine trust far more than any official statements.
In the end, international law risks turning into what its critics have always suspected it to be: a tool that the strong apply selectively when it suits them. Weaker states see in this the confirmation of an old truth — that law is often simply the continuation of politics. Cynicism is growing, and with it the feeling that universal rules no longer exist.
Credibility can only be restored through consistency, not through grand words. Sovereignty must protect against external arbitrariness, but it should not serve as a cover for what happens inside a country. Western capitals would do well to abandon exceptions for allies and judge by the same standards — both Russian actions and their own. Countries of the Global South should move beyond the dogma of absolute non-interference when it serves only to preserve power at any cost.
International law remains one of the few barriers against complete chaos in a world where interests collide ever more harshly. But for that to happen, it must stop being a weapon in someone else’s hands and once again become what it was intended to be: a common set of rules in which respect for sovereignty is combined with responsibility toward one’s own people. If we continue to divide suffering into “worthy of attention” and “not so much,” then one day there may be no attention left for anyone.
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