International Law and Accountability: The Case of the Israel-Palestine Conflict

By: Nilufer Molla

The purpose of international law is to establish the responsibilities of each state in relation to its conduct toward other countries and its treatment of national and international citizens. The current Israel-Palestine conflict demonstrates the consequences when legal obligations are outlined on paper, but have no real power from major international bodies to enforce or support them.   

The 2023 hostilities started when Hamas launched an attack on Israeli settlements, taking 254 hostages and prompting the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) to take retaliatory action. Since October 7th, 2023, Israel has made continuous efforts to target Hamas; however, the victims have primarily been the civilian population of Palestine, with no assurance of justice or security. What followed has been a conflict that has further escalated into the systematic erasure of the Palestinian people.

Forced displacement, starvation, and bombings that amount to war crimes, crimes against humanity, and, according to legal scholars, genocide, must be addressed. However, we see little to no action taken to hold the perpetrators accountable for such violations. In fact, ceasefire agreements and other international laws continue to be broken by both nations, with one causing more humanitarian damage than the other. For example, after establishing a ceasefire in mid-January 2025, Israel launched surprise attacks in Gaza in March, violating yet another ceasefire agreement. The attacks killed and injured over 1000 civilians, demonstrating the fragility of these agreements when little enforcement exists.

Article 50 of the Fourth Geneva Convention prohibits not only the denial of humanitarian aid, but also the obstruction of its passage. Article 54 of Additional Protocol 1 prohibits starvation as a weapon of war. 

However, since May 2024, the UN World Food Programme has reported that roughly 85% of aid convoys to Gaza have been intercepted or blocked by Israeli authorities. And, famine has been confirmed. Ross Smith, the WFP’s Director of Emergencies, described the situation as “clearly a disaster unfolding in front of our eyes, in front of our television screen.” Including numerous other violations, the resulting damage includes but is not limited to the destruction of hospitals, irrevocable malnutrition, long-term famine, and loss of innocent life. 

Present international law violations are not an aberration. The Israel-Palestine conflict stretches back generations before October 2023, and ceasefire violations date as early as 1949. Specifically, since its creation, there has been a visible pattern of Israel breaking ceasefire agreements and truces with other countries. Immediately after the Israeli state was created in 1948, it violated the Armistice Agreement by attacking demilitarized zones, resulting in the deaths of numerous Palestinian civilians. Though it must be considered that these actions may have been preemptive in anticipation of an attack, the broader argument is that the absence of enforcement and action towards accountability leads to cyclical violations and violence. 

The absence of international humanitarian law is not the main issue; instead, the persisting failure to enforce it is. This pattern of continuous violations is not unique to the Israel-Palestine conflict. The United Nations (UN) often limits itself to condemnation while violence escalates on the ground. Other countries, in the past and present, have also experienced human rights violations without the United Nations’ intervention.  

When addressing several present and past Israel-Palestine human rights violations, the United Nations has appeared to only produce reports and non-legally-binding resolutions while urging that Israel’s “military operations must be conducted in strict accordance with international humanitarian law.” While condemnation is a positive step, addresses are not sufficient, especially within such a major international body. 

The International Criminal Court (ICC) had finally issued arrest warrants for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and the former defense minister in November 2024, after about a decade since the start of the investigation. The warrant was issued over war crimes and crimes against humanity in Gaza; however, no further action has been taken by the ICC. ICC member states are now obligated to arrest those charged when they are in their territory. UN powers appear to be limited, but a modern and more active stance must be taken while lives are at risk.

Since the creation of the UN, the question of Palestine has always existed. The main aspect of the UN offers a forum for discussion on conflict prevention. But even these efforts have experienced continuous pushback from Israel with United States support. While global leaders wait to come to a consensus, thousands of lives have already been lost in the process. 

This conflict makes one thing clear: if a country can violate international law, even striking UN agencies themselves, with no consequence, the entire system meant to promote and preserve global peace and security becomes, to an extent, meaningless.

Trump's Contradictory Stance on Foreign Policy

By: Jacob Rabin

For better or for worse, the early days of President Trump’s second term have consisted of an intense shakeup of the United States’ foreign policy priorities. Although some of the administration’s measures are still pending legal challenges, widespread actions including vast trade deals, foreign aid cuts, and tariffs have rattled the international status quo.

Trump has sought to claw back at least $8 billion previously allotted for foreign aid. He also blocked another $4.9 billion in aid approved by Congress already. His administration has claimed to have reached trade deals with dozens of countries, although the number of finalized agreements likely remains in the single digits. Trump has imposed some level of tariffs on nearly all nations, although it has been tough to decipher exactly how many countries are affected and at what level. Either way, he has moved beyond the handful of trade disputes typical of recent administrations and instead initiated a near-global tariff regime.

The most fascinating parts of Trump’s decisions are the actions directed at our long term allies, namely Canada and the United Kingdom. Canada alone accounts for roughly $762 billion in annual trade with the United States, including nearly $350 billion in American exports and $28 billion in agricultural goods. The United Kingdom absorbs about $85 billion in U.S. exports each year. Yet, both countries, who have long been integral security and economic partners, have been publicly scolded for unfair trade and subjected to new tariff frameworks. Trump’s complex web of tariffs on British and Canadian goods, among others, has already raised prices for key sectors of the economy like aluminum, autos, and machinery.

But amidst these widespread changes, one nation has been on the receiving end of American generosity and aid: Argentina. On October 9th, the U.S. announced an agreement with Argentina to provide a $20 billion currency swap lifeline to Argentina to prevent a collapse of the peso, which would have triggered widespread economic distress. This investment was followed just a few days later by another $20 billion, reportedly focused on the debt market. This move was catalyzed by the Trump administration but is to be funded by private actors and sovereign funds. Additionally, in July the Trump administration announced they were working on a plan to reinstate visa-free travel for Argentine passport holders, a strong diplomatic gesture. 

All of this for what? Just $16.5 billion in exports? When compared to the $350 billion in goods sent to Canada, it is clear that these are not economic decisions; they are ideological ones. Trump has called Argentina’s conservative leader, Javier Milei, his “favorite president” and the timing of the aforementioned financial bailout, just days before Argentina’s October 26 legislative elections, was unmistakable. The goal of these actions was immediately clear. Trump wanted to prop up Milei’s conservative party rather than risk losing ground to the left-leaning Peronist opposition movement.

This aid has come at the expense of Americans, many of whom have been longtime supporters of Trump. The beef industry has been hit particularly hard. Senator Fischer, a Republican from Nebraska who has supported Trump on nearly everything urged the administration to prioritize America’s ranchers. She warned, warned that Trump's policies are not “the way” to address rising beef prices; she asserts that government intervention in the beef market will hurt cattle ranchers and urges the Trump administration to “focus on trade deals that benefit [American] [agricultural] producers” rather than “imports that will do more harm than good.” Justin Tupper, the President of the United States Cattlemen's Association went further, saying, “A deal of this magnitude with Argentina would undercut the very foundation of our cattle industry.” 

Other Republicans were critical, or at the very least skeptical. Josh Hawley, a Republican senator from Missouri said, “My intuitive response to bailouts in general, whether talking about bank executives or foreign countries, is to be very skeptical.” In fact, 48% of Trump voters expressed disapproval of the net $40 billion package for Argentina.

Trump’s foreign policy decisions make little sense currently, but this isn’t a new revelation. People far smarter than me have been making this argument since day one. However, we must continue to ask why. Americans deserve to know why their government is underwriting the success of a foreign leader while farmers and manufacturers at home face rising costs and shrinking markets. Asking that question isn’t disloyal—it’s patriotic. In the end, holding our government accountable is far more American than bailing out a far-right ruler half a world away.

Mirrored Corruption in Southeast Asia

By: Margaret Jane Piatos

In Southeast Asia, political reform is like a game of musical chairs. In the past year alone, both the Philippines and Indonesia have faced waves of public outrage over corruption and governance failures, and each time, their leaders responded by rearranging it.

In early 2024, the Philippines was submerged: literally and politically. A massive ₱500-billion (US$10.15 billion) flood control program, designed to protect provinces from typhoon damage, became the center of a national scandal after reports revealed that much of the funding had become “ghost projects.” Entire floodwalls existed only on paper, and many communities in Pampanga and Bulacan watched their homes drown again during the rainy season. Days later, President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. announced a sweeping cabinet reshuffle, replacing several high-profile leaders in what he called a “renewal of government integrity.” But few believed that new faces meant new ethics. 

The Philippines reshaped nearly every branch of government. The Department of Public Works and Highways (DPWH) Secretary Manuel Bonoan stepped down amid investigations, replacing former Department of Transportation Secretary Vince Dizon, who swiftly demanded courtesy resignations from senior officials and filed graft complaints against implicated contractors.

The Senate, too, saw upheaval. Francis “Chiz” Escudero was ousted as Senate President, accused of delaying impeachment proceedings and linked to firms that profited from flood projects, and Vincent “Tito” Sotto III reclaimed the presidency. In the House of Representatives, Speaker Martin Romualdez, a cousin of the president, resigned following allegations of budget insertions, succeeded by Faustino “Bojie” Dy, who vowed “zero tolerance” for corruption. 

To many Filipinos, this felt more like repositioning than reform. The symbolism was clear: in a country where corruption routinely erodes public trust, reshuffling the cabinet may avoid the headlines, but it cannot rebuild the foundations of integrity. 

Across the sea, Indonesia was living through its own spectacle. In October of 2025, mass protests erupted across Jakarta, Surabaya, and Yogyakarta after police killed a motorcycle taxi driver during a labor demonstration. The protests, initially about police brutality, soon grew into a broader indictment of corruption and elite privilege. Lawmakers’ generous housing allowances, rising food prices, and the widening gap between politicians and citizens fueled resentment. Just a week later, President Prabowo Subianto unveiled his second major cabinet reshuffle since taking office. 

Purbaya Yudhi Sadewa, former head of the Deposit Insurance Corporation, became Finance Minister. Djamari Chaniago replaced Budi Gunawan as Coordinating Minister for Political and Security Affairs. The Minister of Youth and Sports, Dito Ariotedgo, was replaced by Erick Thohir, a businessman and former Minister of State-Owned Enterprises. President Prabowo also announced a new Hajj and Umrah Ministry, expanding what he called the “Merah Putih Cabinet,” although it had the opposite effect.

Indonesians were unconvinced. For many, the reshuffle symbolized not renewal, but repetition, not addressing the public’s demands. Instead of reform, it appeared to be a disguise to project control while preserving political loyalty: the same robust networks, merely rearranged.

Both Prabowo and Marcos rely on reshuffling as a political strategy rather than a governance tool. It suggests responsiveness, even if nothing changes beneath the surface. What makes this cycle so dangerous is not merely the corruption itself, but the illusion of progress it sustains. Each reshuffle is framed as a cleansing measure, yet it reinforces the same networks of patronage and elite exchange that enabled the corruption to begin with. 

This illusion of reform carries beyond politics. Foreign and domestic confidence wavers as fiscal accountability weakens. Inequality deepens when funds intended for infrastructure or welfare are diverted into private interests. Most dangerously, public cynicism grows. The more leaders rely on reshuffles to manage outrage, the more fragile their democracies become. 

In this way, the Philippines and Indonesia are mirror images of one another: vibrant democracies on paper, but systems still driven by personal loyalty and patronage. Each government appointment rewards alliances, and each scandal threatens them. But corruption is not just tolerated; it becomes institutionalized. Until they stop playing musical chairs, every promise of reform will sound the same.