Conflict is spreading across multiple continents. U.S. and Israeli attacks on Iran have sparked retaliatory strikes. Crimes under international law continue to be committed in Gaza, Myanmar, Sudan, and Ukraine. Law seems powerless to constrain armed conflict and civilians pay the ultimate price. Rules are invoked when convenient and ignored when costly. The temptation is to conclude that international law has failed.

International law cannot guarantee compliance, but it does something else. It establishes standards so that violations carry political, diplomatic and sometimes legal costs. Even those who break international law tend to frame their actions in legal terms, seeking justifications that might mitigate international scrutiny. Those constraints matter. Therefore, the question facing states now is whether they will strengthen them or allow them to erode.

Strengthening international law would mean filling a critical gap in efforts to constrain the worst behaviors by states. The world has conventions for genocide, war crimes, torture, and enforced disappearances. Yet no such dedicated treaty exists for crimes against humanity, such as those seen in the repression of Uyghurs, Kazakhs and other ethnic groups in Xinjiang, China; in Myanmar’s treatment of the Rohingya and other populations; or in the “war on drugs” in the Philippines, to name just a few examples. In 2024, the United Nations General Assembly authorized negotiations on a new convention. A first preparatory session concluded in January. With formal state comments due by April 30, South Korea has a chance to lead in defining the treaty’s scope, standards and ambition.

South Korea’s understanding of crimes against humanity is etched into national memory – Gwangju and Inhyeokdang were lived realities. In May 1980, the military killed hundreds of civilians demanding democracy in Gwangju, many of them students, as thousands more faced imprisonment and torture. Five years earlier, eight people had been executed within 18 hours on fabricated charges in the Inhyeokdang case, where the government used courts to eliminate political opponents. These attacks aimed to terrorize entire populations into silence.

South Korea eventually reclaimed accountability. Victims and families demanded truth, while civil society pushed for prosecutions and courts that had once served repression instead issued convictions. The state acknowledged harm and provided reparations, but the process took decades. Justice arrived too late for many who had waited years as perpetrators retained power. The harm was already done. 

From that long struggle for accountability came credibility, which today South Korea brings to the negotiations.

With the April deadline approaching, it remains unclear what position South Korea will take. Its history gives it both standing and responsibility. Will South Korea deploy its authority to support a strong and modern convention?

Three factors give South Korea distinct standing to advocate for progressive standards.

First, the country’s trajectory from victim to architect of accountability provides unique credibility, derived from demonstrated practice. The courts that once served authoritarian power now protect human dignity and constrain executive and military authority. 

Second, regional representation strengthens the convention’s legitimacy. Global treaties require diverse support and Asia-Pacific voices matter. South Korea’s history of accountability can strengthen the region’s voice in these negotiations.

Third, South Korea’s domestic jurisprudence validates the direction the convention should take. Courts here established that human dignity requires accountability regardless of political cost. The Constitutional Court recognized that delay itself inflicts harm on victims, establishing this principle even when political consensus was incomplete.

South Korea remains cautious, however, reluctant to advocate beyond the baseline of the 1998 Statute of the International Criminal Court (ICC), and aiming instead for “widest possible acceptance.” But South Korea’s history and standing should weigh toward a treaty that goes further, enshrining the highest standards of international law and protection for victims. 

In January, South Korea stated that proposals should “reflect existing law and jurisprudence from international courts.” This means that South Korea should, for example, advocate for gender justice standards the ICC and other international courts have already recognized, including forced marriage and reproductive violence as distinct crimes against humanity. Likewise, the crime of slave trade and definitions of “victims” are firmly recognized in existing international law.

In the present international landscape, looking for “widest possible acceptance” risks achieving only the lowest common denominator. Moreover, it allows a small number of obstructionist governments that are only interested in self-preservation to dictate the terms.  

South Korea faces this choice at a critical moment. In a time when law appears ineffective at constraining systematic violence, abandoning accountability frameworks may seem pragmatic. That assessment is mistaken. This convention will not prevent every atrocity. But it can refuse to normalize violations. It will establish binding obligations where none exist. It will provide vocabulary and procedures to identify and expose violations and to cooperate across borders. It will ensure justice remains available even when delayed or denied elsewhere.

The treaty’s name is deliberate: crimes against humanity. Not crimes against states or governments, but against humanity itself. These violations target human dignity directly and “shock the conscience of humanity.” They require accountability that functions rather than rhetoric that fails.

South Korea’s transition demonstrates that combatting impunity requires effective legal frameworks, rules that constrain how violators justify their actions and increase potential costs. South Korea can leverage the moral capital it earned through painful transformation to take a leading role and help create a convention to be proud of.