Allies at odds in the aftermath of the Nobel Peace Prize

President Trump has reacted negatively to the Nobel Peace Prize being awarded to Navi Pillay. His grievance seems to be twofold. First, that he didn’t himself receive the prize. And second, that he does not find the laureate worthy.

The first needs no comment. The second we find to be a symptom of a deeper and more significant problem: Norway, and many other European states, are increasingly on a collision course with one of their most important allies over how international politics should be organized.

The American objection to international courts is that no state is obliged to submit to an international court. But obligation is not what the dispute is about, and a prize honouring one of the architects of such courts is a strange thing for Washington to treat as a provocation.

It is difficult to see the United States' opposition to international courts as stemming from a principled view on who has the right to judge whom, or on whether individuals should be tried by national courts, international courts, or the national courts of other states. In 2026 alone, the United States has effectively appointed itself judge over both Venezuela's Maduro and Iran's Khamenei.

It is far more plausible to understand the US position as a question of power rather than principle. Norway and other smaller powers rely on international courts in an effort to coordinate and constrain the behaviour of states. The United States is powerful enough to decide for itself who should be held accountable, for what, where, and when.

For the record, criticism of the US approach is not a defence of either Maduro or Khamenei. Both have committed acts for which they ought to be held accountable. In a better world, that would happen through internationally recognized legal processes. Such a world will not emerge on its own. It is something we must actively work towards.

The objections to the court are weaker than they sound

The court at the centre of the dispute is the International Criminal Court (ICC). Opposition to the court is typically presented through three key claims: that the court has no business with the citizens of non-members, that its reach threatens democratic self-government, and that it should only step in where national courts have collapsed. None of them holds up well.

Non-membership is not immunity. The United States and Israel are entirely free not to join the ICC. But they cannot opt out of dealing with other states and respecting their rights, any more than the United States would accept other countries disregarding its own. The ICC may prosecute crimes committed on the territory of states that have accepted its jurisdiction, regardless of the nationality of the perpetrator. This is one reason the arrest warrant for Putin was possible: the crimes he is accused of were committed on Ukrainian territory.

Nor is this a threat to democracy. The principle is neither new nor particularly controversial. An American citizen who commits a crime in Norway can be prosecuted under Norwegian law. That Norway and other states choose to organize themselves through international arrangements, with consequences for crimes committed on their territory, is entirely legitimate.

The Palestinian case is more legally contested because Palestine’s statehood remains disputed. Although Palestine holds only non-member observer status at the United Nations, it has nevertheless acceded to the Rome Statute, and the ICC has determined that its territorial jurisdiction extends to Gaza and the West Bank, including East Jerusalem.[MD1]

Functioning courts are not a shield either. The ICC may intervene not only when national legal systems lack the capacity to prosecute, but also when authorities lack the willingness to do so. A country may have fully functioning courts yet still choose to protect its own citizens from prosecution. That is precisely the situation the court was built for.

Why this is a Peace Prize

None of the diplomatic fallout is within the Committee's mandate. Its task is not to weigh the diplomatic consequences of its decisions, but to recognize contributions to peace. The relevant question is therefore whether international criminal justice contributes to peace. We believe it does, in at least two ways.

First, the threat of punishment deters. This holds even for leaders such as Putin and Netanyahu, and it is the same principle that underpins criminal law more generally. Even for the world's most powerful leaders, there is a cost to being internationally wanted.

Second, accusations shape public opinion — but who makes them matters. Accusations of violations of international rules may weaken support for governments. Research shows, for example, that shaming by the United Nations significantly reduced Chinese public support for non-compliance with the ICJ. In contrast, shaming by the United States had no effect. As China's geopolitical rival, the United States lacks the necessary legitimacy, and such accusations may instead make people rally around their government.

International judicial decisions carry more weight when the institutions behind them are seen as independent and impartial, rather than as instruments of individual states’ interests.

Navi Pillay has devoted her life to building such institutions. She has worked for a world in which even the powerful are not above the law, and in which everyone is subject to the same rules.

Such a world is fairer, more predictable, and more peaceful.

That is why this year's award is a Peace Prize.

• Marianne Dahl is Acting Deputy Director at PRIO
• Haakon Gjerløw is Acting Director at PRIO
• This Comment is partly based on a Norwegian language exchange in Dagens Næringsliv