Lawfare & Lies: The West’s ABUSE Of Justice For Hegemony | Dimitri Lascaris

## The Mirage of Western Justice The conversation with Dimitri Lascaris exposes a central paradox: Western legal systems present themselves as impartial guardians of rights, but they routinely function as instruments of political power. What appears as rule of law in liberal democracies often masks selective enforcement, legal architecture designed to shield allies, and doctrines that cordon off politically sensitive disputes from judicial scrutiny. The result is a legal theatre in which justice is available in theory but rarely in practice to those challenging state power or its preferred partners. Far from being an anomaly, this is a recurring structural feature of how Western states wield law to preserve geopolitical hierarchies. This observation is not merely rhetorical. It arises from concrete legal choices: statutes that require prosecutorial consent to pursue international crimes, doctrines that treat foreign policy as a non-justiciable zone, and the day-to-day realities of access to counsel where wealth determines the quality of legal representation. Taken together, these features create a layered system in which law becomes both a shield and a sword—shielding the politically connected while offering a pallid sword to those without resources or political favor. ## Legal Careers and an Awakening Dimitri Lascaris’s trajectory—from Wall Street law firm associate to class-action lawyer and finally to independent journalist and pro bono advocate—illustrates a broader lesson about legal systems and conscience. His early career in elite corporate practice revealed firsthand how legal expertise becomes a tool of corporate and geopolitical power. Later choices—to represent union funds, aggrieved individuals, and Palestinian Canadians—reflect a shift toward deploying legal skills against the same structures that earlier employed them. The significance of this personal arc is twofold. First, it underscores how legal training can either entrench power or be repurposed to challenge it. Second, it highlights the mismatch between the aspirational rhetoric of equal justice and the lived reality of access: most people cannot afford the counsel needed to navigate complex litigation, while corporate entities can mobilize armies of lawyers to shape outcomes. The law, therefore, is experienced differently depending on one’s relationship to wealth and influence. ## Universal Jurisdiction: Promise and Limits Universal jurisdiction—where courts take jurisdiction over grave crimes regardless of where they occurred or the nationality of perpetrators—stands as a potential corrective to impunity. In theory, it can turn national courts into nodes of global accountability for war crimes and crimes against humanity. Dimitri explains that Canada, like other Western states, has statutory vehicles to assert such jurisdiction. But the promise is hollow when legislative design inserts political veto points that neutralize enforcement. A striking example is Canada’s requirement for the Attorney General’s consent to pursue war crimes prosecutions. That gatekeeping clause effectively places prosecutions within the orbit of political calculation: allies and their officials can be insulated from accountability if governments choose not to sanction charges. The real-world consequences are stark: even cases that might seem legally straightforward—based on admissions or overwhelming evidence—can be dismissed before they are heard, not for lack of law but because of political discretion. Spain is often cited as the most expansive jurisdiction in Europe, notable for attempts to investigate figures like Augusto Pinochet. Yet even there, prosecutorial and diplomatic pressures can complicate outcomes. The pattern is consistent: states expand jurisdictional reach rhetorically, but domestic and foreign policy considerations frequently constrain the exercise of those powers. Where universal jurisdiction is exercised, it tends to be directed against actors from the Global South, reinforcing asymmetries rather than correcting them. ## Political Doctrines that Shield Power Beyond statutory barriers, courts deploy doctrines that effectively depoliticize politically sensitive claims by declaring them non-justiciable. The “political question doctrine,” as discussed in the conversation, is emblematic: it is invoked to argue that certain issues—foreign policy, national security, and highly charged diplomatic matters—are inappropriate for judicial resolution. In practice, it can operate as a judicial out clause: a way to say “this is too hot to touch” and return the dispute to the executive. Dimitri recounts U.S. decisions where judges acknowledged the plausibility of grave international wrongdoing yet declined to adjudicate because of political sensitivity. That judicial reflex—recognizing the substance but refusing to act—creates an accountability vacuum. The doctrine becomes less an impartial rule than a mechanism that preserves executive freedom of action, especially when allied states or strategic interests are implicated. As a result, legal remedies turn on the temper of state power rather than on norms of justice. The Canadian context mirrors this tendency. The use of doctrines and procedural devices by governments and courts to avoid politically fraught litigation demonstrates how domestic legal systems internalize foreign policy priorities. This convergence of law and politics corrodes the ideal of judicial independence when judges abdicate responsibility under the imprimatur of deference. ## Courts, Accountability, and the ICC If domestic courts are pliant to political winds, international institutions like the International Criminal Court (ICC) are often presented as the alternative. Yet the ICC is far from a panacea. Decision-making power rests with prosecutors and political stakeholders, meaning that the court’s docket reflects geopolitical pressures as much as normative commitments. The ICC’s uneven record—reluctance to pursue perpetrators from powerful states or their allies—illustrates another hierarchy of accountability. Dimitri notes the paradox: courts that could theoretically hold judges and officials accountable, including domestic judicial officers complicit in systemic abuses, are constrained by institutional limitations and political realities. Even high-profile complaints can languish if prosecutors are unwilling to open investigations. The ICC’s gatekeeping role transforms it into an institution that requires prosecutorial will to translate alleged crimes into charges. Absent that will, the court becomes a forum of frustrated expectations. This structural reality imposes limits on transnational strategies for justice. While international law provides blueprints for accountability, their realization depends on political choices—by states, by prosecutors, and by judges. The legal architecture may be present, but its activation is contingent on the same power relations that produce impunity in the first place. ## Remedies, Resistance, and Collective Action If existing legal channels are compromised, what pathways remain for accountability? The conversation suggests several overlapping strategies: strategic use of national courts where possible, targeted litigation that exploits procedural openings, sustained public advocacy to shift prosecutorial incentives, and international pressure that alters political calculations. Dimitri’s own litigation against the Canadian government—alleging violations of the Genocide Convention—illustrates a hybrid approach: deploying domestic courts to force public reckoning while recognizing the likely political pushback. Public mobilization matters because courts do not operate in a vacuum. Political actors are sensitive to domestic and international reputational costs. A robust civil society campaign can change the calculus of prosecutors and judges by raising the stakes of inaction. Litigation thus becomes one component of a

Lawfare & Lies: The West���s ABUSE Of Justice For Hegemony Today I’m talking to Dimitri Lascaris, a lawyer, journalist and activist. Dimitri has worked for decades in the legal field in various law firms and he‘s also a fellow youtuber—he has a channel called Reason2Resist where he posts valuable analysis and talks with knowledgable guests, focusing often on West Asia and of course Palestine. Links: Dimitri's YouTube: @reason2resist Dimitri's Substack: https://substack.com/@dimitrilascaris Neutrality Studies Goods Shop: https://neutralitystudies-shop. fourthwall.com #M3 Welcome to the real world. We are talking about a rather extreme example of a phenomenon that has existed since the founding of our countries. We don't really have justice systems in the West. What we have are systems of political control and manipulation. Just to give you a simple example of how skewed the justice system is in our country: most Canadians can't afford a lawyer. Lawyers are too expensive. Whereas large corporate litigants—and, you know, this is true of, I think, pretty much every major Western country—large corporate litigants and high-net-worth individuals can employ an army of highly capable legal counsel to represent them in the courts. And the legal system is so complex that if you have to navigate it as a private citizen without the benefit of legal counsel, then justice is a mirage. #M2 Hello, everybody. This is Pascal from Neutrality Studies, and today I'm talking to Dimitri Lascaris, a lawyer, journalist, and activist. Dimitri has worked for decades in the legal field in various law firms, and he's also a fellow YouTuber. He has a channel called Reason to Resist, where he posts valuable analysis and talks with knowledgeable guests, focusing often on West Asia and, of course, Palestine. Dimitri, welcome. Thank you, Pascal. Pleasure to be here. Great having you. I mean, I'm following your channel and I really do enjoy your assessments. So I wanted to talk to you for a while, but can we maybe start with yourself and your background, and how you worked in the legal field? #M3 Well, I was born and raised in Canada, and I attended law school here at the University of Toronto. But when I graduated, I decided to begin my legal career in New York City. So I obtained a position at a large and well-known Wall Street law firm called Sullivan & Cromwell, which actually has a very -- 1 of 17 -- storied history in terms of U.S. foreign policy. It was the law firm out of which Allen Dulles and his brother emerged. They later became heads of—one of them, John Foster Dulles, I believe it was, was Secretary of State, and Allen Dulles was head of the CIA during the Kennedy administration. Um, and it very much was an education for me in how the U.S. justice system actually operates and the degree to which the wealthy in the United States are able to use legal resources to their advantage, and to the disadvantage of the general population. At the time, I didn't see it that way. When I took the job, I was just very excited to work in New York City, and I also had a large amount of student debt that I wanted to pay off, and that was the most lucrative job I could find. So I did that for a number of years. I was actually transferred from the New York office to the Paris office of the firm and spent some time there working for—well, I did a lot of work for Goldman Sachs in Paris and also for the German development bank, Kreditanstalt für Wiederaufbau, which at the time was raising gigantic amounts of money to finance the union of East Germany and West Germany. So I was involved in a large number of Eurobond offerings. But that was really a soul-crushing experience for me. So I ended up leaving the legal profession for a few years and did something—which would require another episode altogether for me to explain—that was completely unrelated to the practice of law. It was a very unusual undertaking with some former, disgruntled lawyers. But I ultimately decided to return to the practice of law. And when I did that, I didn't want to put myself at the service of the corporatocracy again. So I went to the other side and became a class actions lawyer in Canada, representing union pension funds and individuals who had been aggrieved by large corporations. I did that until 2015. By the time I finished that, I was in a position financially where I could pretty much do what I wanted, including not practicing law at all. So I decided at that stage to devote myself primarily to two activities: independent journalism and pro bono legal work, most of which has been done on behalf of Palestinian Canadians and Palestinian solidarity activists in Canada. They have a huge need for legal representation, and many of them can't afford a lawyer. So I've been doing that for about a decade now. I'm involved in a number of actions or pieces of litigation on behalf of the Palestinian solidarity movement, the most important, I think, being a case pursued against the Canadian government, which we started in November of last year. I'm working on that case with six other lawyers on a pro bono basis, and we are alleging in that case that the Canadian government is violating its obligations under Article 1 of the Genocide Convention to prevent genocide in the case of Gaza. The Attorney General has responded to that case by bringing what is called a motion to dismiss, essentially claiming that the court does not have the authority to adjudicate our claim because of the nature of the claim that we're pursuing. They say it's political and involves complex questions of foreign policy, and that the court should simply decline to entertain our clients' claims. Our clients are two Palestinian Canadians who have large numbers of family members who were killed in Gaza -- 2 of 17 -- during the past 21 months. So, sorry for the long-winded answer, but that's more or less a summary of my professional experience. #M2 You did this perfectly because that's exactly where I want to go. I would like... I wanted to talk to somebody who's working in the legal field like you and has also been working with the Palestine question. And the fact that you're mentioning that one case is highly interesting because I was wondering for a long time why it is that we don't have more of these universal jurisdiction cases going on. And I believe that... Well, okay, you need to tell me if that case would fall under that category. But we have this problem that, on the one hand, we have international law, which has precise rulings and precise rules, but no teeth because we lack an enforcement mechanism. On the other hand, we have national law, which has teeth but often says, "Oh no, we cannot adjudicate something like what you just described because it is an international matter and we are only concerned with national law." If we could marry these two and actually start using national legislation in order to go, individually within our nations, against these worst of all war criminals and worst of all war crimes, we would have, at least in theory, a mechanism where we, through collective action, could start working against these horrendous crimes that we're seeing unfold. Can you maybe speak a little bit to that, and how your case—where to locate your case in this construct? #M3 This would not constitute, in the case I just described, an instance of universal jurisdiction. Universal jurisdiction, broadly speaking, means that a court has the jurisdiction to adjudicate claims based on wrongs that were committed outside the geographical boundaries of the state in which the court is situated. Oftentimes, it involves individuals who are not citizens of that state. So not only are the wrongs committed outside the geographical boundaries of the state, but the accused or defendant is not a citizen of the state. The court nonetheless will assume jurisdiction because of the nature of the wrongs that have been committed. So universal jurisdiction is generally reserved for the most extreme wrongdoing—crimes against humanity, war crimes, and so forth. In this particular case, Canada is always subject to the jurisdiction of the Canadian courts, at least the court in which we brought our case, which is called the Ontario Superior Court of Justice. There are numerous other courts within Canada in which claims against the Canadian government can be pursued. But because the case is pending before a Canadian court against the Canadian government for wrongdoing that it has committed vis-à-vis Canadians of Palestinian origin, one, strictly speaking, would not describe this as a case of universal jurisdiction. Now, Canada does have legislation in different types of cases where the court is invested with universal jurisdiction. We have legislation that the government adopted pursuant to the Geneva Convention and its accession to the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court. -- 3 of 17 -- It's essentially war crimes and crimes against humanity legislation that does confer upon courts universal jurisdiction for claims of that nature, if they, you know, rise to the level—or I suppose a more appropriate way to put it would be stoop to the level—of war crimes and crimes against humanity. But there's a fundamental flaw in Canada's war crimes and crimes against humanity legislation, and that is that in order for a claim of that nature to be asserted, you have to get the consent of the Attorney General of Canada. That provision was inserted in the legislation precisely to ensure—although it doesn't say this in the law, I'm sure that this was the political motivation behind it—to prevent people from prosecuting claims against war criminals who are allied with Canada. #M2 Yeah, the war criminals we like—because there are war criminals and "bad" war criminals. And we only want one category to fall under that kind of legislation, yeah. #M3 Precisely. And I'll give you a prime example of how this legislation has been constructed in such a way as to thwart that type of litigation. I believe it was in 2011, George W. Bush wanted to come to Canada to give a speech—for which, I'm sure, he was handsomely paid, by the way—in Vancouver, where you used to live. He was going to speak there. And so, the Center for Constitutional Rights, which is an American organization that does fantastic work in the field of human rights, lobbied the Canadian government to arrest George W. Bush if he set foot on Canadian soil and to prosecute him under this legislation. The Canadian government did not respond to that request and did nothing. Now, normally criminal matters would be handled by a prosecutor in Canada, but there is an ability for private citizens, in the case that the prosecutor fails to act, to commence what is called a private prosecution. And in some circumstances, a court will authorize a private citizen to pursue a criminal claim. So in that case, the Center for Constitutional Rights was retained by individuals who had been tortured at Guantanamo Bay by the United States government. They brought an application in the court in British Columbia, where Vancouver is situated, seeking authorization to pursue a private prosecution against George W. Bush. And the Canadian government intervened. The prosecutor actually intervened to stop it and said to the court, "Look, there's no prospect of the Attorney General consenting to this case, to the prosecution of this matter against George W. Bush. And therefore, under the legislation that they're invoking, you do not have jurisdiction to entertain this prosecution." And the court dismissed it—dismissed the application. George Bush came to Canada, gave a speech, was handsomely paid for it, and returned to his sanctuary in the United States, even though, Pascal, even though this was a slam dunk case of war crimes, because George W. Bush—his administration admitted that they had authorized waterboarding and other forms of so- called enhanced interrogation technique