The comfortable refuge of “international law”

In every international crisis the same scene repeats itself. When the moment arrives to position oneself, the same formula always appears: “we appeal to respect for international law”.

The phrase sounds impeccable. No one can be against international law. But precisely for that reason it has become the most comfortable refuge to avoid a more uncomfortable discussion: the nature of the regimes with which one is dealing.

Not all international actors are equal. And pretending to evaluate them with exactly the same political categories can become an elegant form of self-deception.

The liberal democracies (with all their flaws) operate under systems of institutional control, political pluralism, and accountability. Their decisions can be criticized, reviewed, and, if necessary, punished electorally.

But that same scheme cannot be applied mechanically to political systems designed precisely to prevent any form of democratic control.

A narco-state like Venezuela or an oligarchic theocracy like Iran are not simply “States with which we disagree”. They are power structures built to shield themselves against any form of political alternation.

For years, the Venezuelan case was the most evident example. The Chavista regime progressively dismantled all institutional counterweights: the judicial system, the parliament, the electoral arbiter, or the media. The result was a system where elections formally existed, but where real power was completely controlled by the apparatus of the narco-state.

For a long time, a part of the international community (the left wing) sold the negotiation with the regime, and the other part trusted that that model would end up collapsing under its own weight. But that collapse never came on its own.

The turning point came when the political, economic, and finally military pressure from the United States altered the equation. The capture of Nicolás Maduro in a U.S. operation earlier this year opened a new stage in Venezuela and caused a reconfiguration of internal power.

Since then, some significant movements have occurred: an interim presidency led by former vice president Delcy Rodríguez, the approval of an amnesty law (with many loopholes) and the partial release of political prisoners.  At the same time, key opposition figures like María Corina Machado have announced their return to the country in the coming weeks to promote the political transition.

All of this reflects an uncomfortable reality for those who for years insisted that change would come only through the formal mechanisms of the system. In Venezuela, international law alone did not overthrow the regime, despite the effort to demand respect for the most basic human rights.

But Venezuelan history also shows another lesson: even when a regime begins to crack, change is not immediate nor linear. The country is experiencing today an uncertain transition, full of internal tensions and enormous social expectations.

For millions of Venezuelans, the fall of Maduro has opened a window of hope, but also a period of short-term frustration. The structures of the old system are still present and the path towards a full democracy will be long.

The Iranian case now presents a different scenario, although with some underlying similarities.

Iran is not simply another autocracy within the complex chessboard of the Middle East. It is a power structure dominated by a clerical elite and by the Revolutionary Guard that combines internal political control, geopolitical ambition, and a militant interpretation of political Islam. In other words, an oligarchic jihadist theocracy with state capacity. This explains both its foreign policy and its capacity for internal repression.

For decades, the Iranian regime has built a network of militias and armed organizations in different countries of the region, from Lebanon to Yemen, and with active operational presence worldwide, even in Latin America and Europe, using indirect violence as a strategic instrument.

But it has also generated deep discomfort within Iranian society itself. In Parliament, I have received in these years dozens of opposition leaders in exile, whose lives are in danger, a danger that we, who are on their blacklists, know well, or the former vice president of the European Parliament himself, Alejo Vidal-Quadras, who was shot in the middle of a Madrid street.

The recent protests have shown to what extent broad sectors of the population (especially young people and women) aspire to a deep political change.

And the American and Israeli attacks against the regime's structures, along with the elimination of the leadership, have significantly altered the internal balance of the system.

For the first time in many years, something that seemed impossible reappears: the real expectation that the regime could weaken or even collapse. And it is here where the European debate on international law once again reveals its limits.

"What most influences its outcome is not a legal formula, but the political clarity of the international community"

Because when some European leaders take refuge in legal formulas to avoid positioning themselves clearly, they are actually ignoring a deeper reality: international law was conceived to regulate relations between States that share certain basic rules of coexistence. Not to indefinitely protect regimes that have built their power precisely by destroying those rules.

Recent history shows that when an authoritarian system begins to crack, what most influences its outcome is not a legal formula, but the political clarity of the international community.

In Venezuela that clarity arrived late and in a fragmented way. In Iran, the people are now beginning to glimpse an opportunity that seemed unthinkable just a few years ago.

And when a people begins to regain the hope of its freedom, the worst thing democracies can do is hide behind comfortable phrases. History shows that authoritarian regimes fear many things. But few as much as an international community that is clear about which side it is on. And that is the best service we can do for those who fight for their freedom which, in the long run, is everyone's.