
By M. Yamin Nasution, S.H. – Legal Counselor
“If the law cannot stop missiles, then only conscience remains.”
Writer, Reflections on the Israel-Iran conflict
The skies over Tel Aviv are on fire.
Hundreds of Iranian ballistic missiles and drones have pounded Israel’s urban centers. In response, Israel has launched precision strikes against Iran’s nuclear facilities in Natanz, Isfahan, and Tehran. Iron Dome, David’s Sling, and Arrow interceptors roar over Tel Aviv like furious guardians, but even they cannot stop everything. Nor can they stop the unraveling of law. This is not just another flare-up. It is the start of a new chapter in the gradual death of international law.
The High Cost of Deterrence: Exhaustion as Strategy
Israel claims that its June 2025 strike was a legitimate act of preemptive self-defense under Article 51 of the UN Charter. Iran retaliated with massive volleys of Zolfaghar missiles and Shahed-136 drones, targeting Tel Aviv, Haifa, and even Jerusalem. Though over 90% were intercepted, the cost was staggering: US$285 million in a single night, just to defend the sky as always.
Iron Dome can intercept warheads, but not intentions. Arrow-3 may block missiles, but it cannot contain political escalation.
Iran has adopted a saturation tactic, flooding Israeli defenses with low-cost drones and rockets designed to overwhelm radar and interceptor systems. This is not simply war; it is strategic fatigue, a form of warfare where the goal is economic and moral attrition.
When the Law Is Dragged into the Bunker
According to legal doctrine, self-defense under international law must meet the strict tests of necessity, immediacy, and proportionality. But who decides what is “proportional” when the judges are Air Force generals and drone operators?
The International Court of Justice (ICJ), in Nicaragua v. United States (1986), declared that “armed reprisals are not lawful responses under international law, even if politically or morally justified.”
Even more troubling, the Israeli Prime Minister has been formally named in a request for indictment by the ICC prosecutor for war crimes against civilians and children in Gaza. Yet, nothing changed. The airstrikes continued. The rockets kept falling. International law became a murmur lost beneath the thunder of war.
What is the meaning of law if it is ignored by those with the most power? What is the purpose of international courts if hospitals can be bombed with impunity?
A World That Watches, A World That Numbs
The United States continues to support Israel with satellite intelligence and emergency interceptor resupply. Russia and China remain strategically silent. The UN, paralyzed by veto politics, mumbles its concern while diplomacy is drowned out by guided munitions.
The European Union, Oman, and Qatar have attempted mediation. But diplomacy is pointless when the law is no longer feared. And today, the law inspires no fear.
“When law fails to restrain power, power reshapes the law,” Hans Kelsen once warned. That is no longer a theory; it is our present reality.
A Precedent for a Lawless Century?
This war is more than a regional conflict. It is a global precedent, a warning of what the 21st century could become. If Israel can launch preemptive strikes without irrefutable evidence of imminent attack, what stops India from attacking Pakistan’s nuclear sites? Or North Korea from “preemptively” hitting Seoul?
International Humanitarian Law (IHL), once a moral compass, now feels like a map that was burned before the journey even began.
Tel Aviv, Tehran, and Gaza: One Inferno, Shared Blood
Photos from Tel Aviv and Gaza mirror one another: children clutching stuffed animals in ruins, families sheltering underground, fire consuming the sky. With every explosion, law dies twice: first in courtrooms, then in human conscience.
We are not witnessing an ordinary war. We are watching the slow collapse of the international legal order, where powerful states redefine morality, and civilian deaths are excused as “strategic necessities.”
Conclusion: When the Moral Compass Shatters
Is the law still alive? Or has it become a tool used only against the weak, and conveniently silenced for the strong?
We, as a nation that has pledged itself to peace and constitutional justice, must keep asking, must keep resisting, and must keep remembering:
If law can die in the Middle East, it can die anywhere, including here.





















