Suing the USA for 70 Years of Interventionism | Ali Borhani

The conversation recorded with Ali Borhani confronts a striking paradox: a nation that venerates litigation and the rule of law at home behaves with near‑impunity abroad. The exchange moves beyond moralizing and asks practical questions—why are systemic transgressions by powerful states so rarely litigated, under what fora could they be adjudicated, what hidden costs accrue from decades of intervention, and how might legal architecture be redesigned to restore accountability? What emerges is not a simple indictment but a strategic challenge: if law is to constrain great‑power conduct, it must be reconceived to match the scale, temporality, and diffuse harms of modern interventionism. ## Why Are There No Class Action Lawsuits Against the Government? The idea that injured groups could bring mass claims against a powerful state seems at once intuitive and fantastical. Domestically, litigation saturates public life: tens of millions of cases each year, an industry woven into the economy and civic imagination. Yet when harms are exported—regime change, covert operations, bombing campaigns—the same instinct to litigate vanishes. The conversation exposes two layers of explanation. First, structural barriers: sovereign immunity doctrines and political‑legal doctrines insulate states from being hauled into foreign courts. Second, geopolitical asymmetry: individual states, especially those in the Global South, lack the diplomatic leverage and prosecutorial resources to sustain prolonged suits against a hegemon. Ali Borhani frames the problem as a mismatch between domestic practice and international restraint. Within U.S. borders, suing is both culturally normalized and institutionally enabled; abroad, collective norms findered on immunities and geopolitics. Historical examples—interventions from Iran 1953 to the coups and covert operations across Latin America—illustrate patterns of sustained foreign policy conduct that are rarely converted into legal redress. The scarcity of class actions is therefore not solely a legal accident but a political equilibrium: wealthy, litigiously adept societies can afford to shield their foreign policy from legal scrutiny, while the millions most affected lack both access and voice. This does not mean that litigation is impossible; the conversation points to sporadic precedents where international law compelled reparations or accountability. Yet those precedents have three key limitations. They often arise only after clear interstate aggression, they depend on international institutions whose enforcement power is politically constrained, and they typically serve states rather than aggregated individual claimants. A truly transformative class action against systemic interventionism would therefore need to bridge these gaps: aggregating dispersed victims, converting political grievances into adjudicable legal claims, and overcoming immunity doctrines that were not designed for transnational torts spanning decades. ## What Court Would Have Jurisdiction? The question of jurisdiction is the fulcrum on which any accountability project rests. The conversation candidly acknowledges that, today, no ready forum exists to adjudicate a global class action against a superpower for decades of foreign interventions. The International Court of Justice has been used—Nicaragua v. United States being the canonical example—but the ICJ’s remedial and enforcement mechanisms are weak in the face of veto politics and great‑power resistance. Domestic courts, meanwhile, are cut off by statutes like the U.S. Foreign Sovereign Immunities Act and similar state immunity laws that preclude suits against sovereign conduct. Yet the dialogue also points toward plausible routes rather than dead ends. First, precedent matters: international arbitration and post‑conflict compensation schemes (for example, the Iraq‑Kuwait compensation experience) show that multilateral political pressure can produce financial redress. Second, creative jurisdictional strategies have worked against corporations and individuals under doctrines such as universal jurisdiction or liability in national courts for transnational harms. Extending that architecture to states will require doctrinal innovation: reinterpreting or carving exceptions to sovereign immunity where illicit conduct produces widespread civilian harm; recognizing persistent violation or continuous tort doctrines that treat ongoing environmental and socio‑political damage as an actionable series of harms rather than isolated acts; and anchoring claims in human rights, environmental law, and customary norms. The conversation is realistic about the obstacles. Political will is the decisive variable. For a global legal strategy to succeed, a coalition large enough to neutralize vetoes and marshal legal resources—BRICS Plus, the Global South, or a climate justice caucus—would likely be necessary. That coalition could choose to bring claims in hybrid tribunals, newly chartered courts, or even leverage U.S. domestic litigation by pairing American law firms with foreign claimants. The remarkable litigious capacity of U.S. lawyers, paradoxically, might become the tool by which systemic grievances are made justiciable—if legal doctrines and political mobilization permit it. ## The Environmental & Mental Health Costs of Intervention 00:26: 45 How Can We Force the System to Change? The costs of intervention extend far beyond immediate death and destruction; they cascade through environments, economies, and psyches in ways that conventional litigation tends to undervalue. The discussion foregrounds two categories of long‑term harm: environmental degradation and mental health trauma. Military campaigns and covert operations scar landscapes—soil contamination, destroyed infrastructure, and altered ecosystems that produce refugee flows and sustained public‑health burdens. Environmental footprints of war also accelerate climate vulnerability in already stressed regions, compounding migration pressures that are then securitized by recipient states. Equally profound are the mental‑health legacies. The conversation pushes us to appreciate that trauma is not confined to combatants. Whole societies endure collective PTSD: disrupted institutions, fractured trust in governance, and intergenerational psychological damage. Veterans’ PTSD is widely recognized, but the conversation insists on an expanded empathy—acknowledging civilians whose life chances, family structures, and social bonds are irreversibly altered by foreign interventions. These diffuse consequences complicate the task of monetizing harm for litigation, yet they also make legal redress more urgent: compensation, if plausible, would need to account for ecological remediation, public‑health rebuilding, and long‑term psychosocial support. How to force change? The speakers propose a combination of strategic litigation, political coalition‑building, and normative reframing. Litigation must be accompanied by narrative work that reframes intervention as a transnational public‑health and environmental catastrophe, not merely a foreign‑policy malfeasance. By aligning climate justice movements, refugee advocacy, and human‑rights campaigns, a legal strategy could convert moral outrage into legal claims with measurable damages. The conversation underscores timing: multipolarity’s rise alters incentives. States that once defaulted to unilateralism might be more susceptible to reputational and economic costs in a world where alternative financial and legal infrastructures are emerging. ## Potential Solutions: A Global Liability Ledger Perhaps the most concrete and imaginative proposal from the exchange is the idea of a Global Liability Ledger: an institutional mechanism that catalogs harms, attributes responsibility, and creates transparent liabilities across states and non‑state actors. This ledger is not merely an accounting exercise; it is a governance architecture that woul

Suing the USA for 70 Years of Interventionism “The rule of law” is a fundamental concept to the modern West and especially to the United States. In fact, my guest today calls the U.S. “the most litigious nation on Earth” and asks why it is that while internally, the rule of law has an almost religious flavor to it, in the international realm, the U.S. —and Western nations more generally—behave as if rules are made for others only? I’ve got with me again Ali Borhani, a Geopolitical Strategist and the author of the FuturEaly Substack. Links: FuturEaly Substack: https://futurearly.substack.com/ Neutrality Studies substack: https://pascallottaz. substack.com Goods Store: https://neutralitystudies-shop.fourthwall.com Timestamps: 00:00:00 Introduction: The Rule of Law Paradox 00:03:37 A Litany of US Interventions Without Accountability 00:06:48 Why Are There No Class Action Lawsuits Against the Government? 00:11:48 What Court Would Have Jurisdiction? 00:19:39 The Environmental & Mental Health Costs of Intervention 00:26: 45 How Can We Force the System to Change? 00:36:41 Potential Solutions: A Global Liability Ledger #Pascal The rule of law is a fundamental concept in the modern West, especially in the United States. In fact, my guest today calls the United States the most litigious nation on earth, and asks why it is that, while internally the rule of law has an almost religious flavor to it, in the international realm the United States—and Western nations more generally—behave as if rules are made for others only. I've got with me again Ali Borhani, geo-political strategist and author of *The Future Early* Substack. Ali, welcome back. #Ali Borhani Nice to be with you. #Pascal Well, thanks for coming on again. We said we wanted to discuss this topic that you actually wrote about on your Substack, and I recommend everybody check it out there as well—“Rules for Me, but Not for Thee.” How do you interpret this syndrome that the United States exhibits? #Ali Borhani First of all, it's wonderful to be back on *Neutrality Studies* at a time when this litigious spirit is on full display. As we speak, President Trump is suing the BBC over a mis-edited piece of speech. I've been preoccupied with this thought for a long time. But to give a bit of background and context -- 1 of 13 -- about litigation and the spirit of litigation—I was shocked when I found out that every year there are about 50 million litigation cases in the United States. Fifteen? One five? No, no—five zero. Five zero? Yes, five zero. Every year there are 50 million cases of litigation in the United States, equal to the entire population of Spain being in court as plaintiffs or defendants. Litigation at large accounts for about 2% to 3% of America’s GDP domestically, believe it or not. Mind-boggling. That means one out of six or seven people in the United States are involved in some sort of litigation. When you think about that, you realize that this spirit is deeply ingrained domestically. And yet, when it comes to global accountability, it baffles me that the United States has hardly ever been, you know, a counterparty to a global case, as far as I can remember. There are even cases within the U.S., Pascal—the famous McDonald’s coffee case, where a lady bought coffee that was too hot and sued the franchise, or the story of the burglar who breaks into a house, injures himself, and then sues the homeowner. So the United States is not unfamiliar with litigation. But when it comes to global responsibility, it’s a paradox—it has dodged, or maybe hardly anybody has taken the United States to court. And that’s been on my mind, this whole spirit of intervention and forever wars, regime changes, covert and now plainly overt, like with Venezuela, which we’ll talk about. And the fact that nobody says, “Hey, United States, buddy, what is this? I’m going to take you to court.” It started back in 1953 in Iran— the overthrow of Mossadegh and the democratically elected government there. And then from there, it went all the way to, you know, Guatemala—the covert operations backed by United Fruit Company’s interests—then to Cuba, which wasn’t successful, then to Bolivia with Che Guevara, then to Chile, then to Ecuador, then to Venezuela, and now Brazil, as part of the 1970s interventions in Latin America. But now it’s out. There’s no pretense anymore that, hey, we’re just trying to bring democracy. No—we’re going to send the warship, and if we’re not happy, we’re going to topple the regime. The veils of the emperor are off. And that brings up this question: shouldn’t there be accountability for changing the course of nations’ histories? Where do we stand in terms of these interventions of the past and what comes to the surface from time to time—where, as the United States has openly acknowledged, for instance, the issue in Iran and the toppling of its regime? So it’s not like something that’s a myth. It’s an open admission by Madeleine Albright, who said, yes, we toppled the regime in 1953—bad consequences, but still. So that’s where I think the premise of my paper lies: in exceptionalism. #Pascal Yeah. So the thing is, this exceptionalism reigns, and impunity reigns in the international sphere. And it's not as if there had never been a court case. I mean, the most famous one is probably Nicaragua against the United States, in which Nicaragua actually dragged the U.S. in front of the -- 2 of 13 -- International Court of Justice over the Contra affair and the U.S. sponsoring an overthrow—a regime change—in Nicaragua. And actually, a lot of things were not great with that case, including some of the rulings, but the court did establish that some accountability is due, right? Such cases in front of international law courts don’t happen often. We currently have one again against Israel and so on, and every once in a while also against the U.S. But overall, they’re few and far between. And the consequences are more than dubious, because the ICJ, of course, in order to implement any decision, needs the Security Council—if the parties don’t do it themselves. And of course, in the Security Council, you have the United States. But at the same time, we have local, domestic U.S. courts. Do you know why there are no class action lawsuits against the U.S. government by U.S. interest groups? #Ali Borhani I think, to be honest with you, the example you brought up is a very isolated case. In the majority of cases, it's the U.S. versus the world, and the U.S. preempts. You know, it's like—again, to be honest with you, if one wants to draw a metaphor—like a burglar who breaks into a house, gets injured, and then sues the owner. The behavior of the United States has been one of exceptionalism—from Hiroshima to Nagasaki, to the campaign of shock and awe in Iraq, to Operation Midnight Hammer. There’s no sense that any of this is wrong. And I think nations alone have very little bandwidth or capacity to act effectively, individually, against the United States. But where we’ve arrived, Pascal, is—I think there’s a growing global unease with U.S. behavior, among both allies and adversaries. And that’s why I think a global class action lawsuit isn’t about trying to push the United States just to drag it in for compensation. It’s not just, you know, “Hey, come and pay us.” Here’s another number for you and your audience: there are roughly 3 million car crashes every year that result in whiplash injuries in the United States. The average compensation for a whiplash or neck injury is about $20,000—it ranges from $10,000 to $50,000. Multiply that, and it comes to around $60 billion in compensation for whiplash injuries every year in the U.S., right? You apply seventy years of interference—a kind of geopolitical hit-and-run—toppling regimes and governments around the world, and all of that adds up to about $4.2 trillion in compensation. This isn’t just about financial redress; it’s about better rules of driving. It’s about saying, “Hey, United States, you come in and topple a regime.” But there’s much more to it than that. It’s not just that you change a government—the ramifications last for decades. It affects millions of people. You know, there was a case in the United States when the U.S. took Canada to court between 1938 and 1941. It was called the Smelter Arbitration, in which Canada’s sulfur emissions were discharged into the United States, and the U.S. claimed environmental harm and held Canada accountable. So there are even precedents at that level—like, hey, you came and damaged my environment. As a nation-state, you have to be held accountable, even if you’re my friendly neighbor, Canada. So what happens to all those footprints of emissions that come from wars and regime-change operations? We’ -- 3 of 13 -- re at the cusp of COP30 and the climate era, right? So it’s not just that the United States came and took Mossadegh out, then you had the era of the Shah, then the revolution, and then eight years of war with Iraq that the United States was directly supporting. These are decades-long operations that leave permanent scars on the psyche of millions of people. So for a nation that is so, you know, attached to litigation and the rule of law—and committed to it to the point that President Trump, over the past four days, has said, “I have an obligation to sue the BBC for a clip,” right?—shouldn’t other nations have an obligation to band together as a Global South, a global majority community? Because in stand‑alone cases, they don’t stand a chance. There’ s no way. Shouldn’t BRICS Plus, shouldn’t the Global South, say, “This is a list of our grievances. Can we tie it to a dialogue in which the United States at least will visualize what it has done to the course of our destiny, our history, and our populace?” #Pascal Yeah, I agree with you. The question is, what court would actually have jurisdiction? #Ali Borhani At the moment, sadly, there is none. But I think there are precedents, you know, and there are alignments that are taking shape. It reminds me of this conversation about TINA—there is no alternative to the dollar, right? So we can say, oh, there is no alternative other than the UN course and all of that. But I think with the climate justice movements we see, it’s still vibrant. If you look at what happened at COP30 yesterday, people came and said, “Our jungles are not for sale.” If you look at the advisory opinions of the ICJ, as you rightly said, on loss and damage funds under the Paris Agreement—and I think, you know, strategic litigation in international and national courts— there’s no shortage of very capable American law firms that I’m sure would pick this up. I mean, trust me, if anyone’s going to take this on, it would be an American law firm or an American lawyer, or I’d say a civically conscious, litigation‑oriented arbitrator, you know, because it’s not going to happen in the courtrooms of Delhi or—I don’t know. #Pascal No, it would also be the most efficient way to actually use the U.S. court system for this. But I’m pretty sure that something in the rule books of the United States stands in the way of that. Because, in theory, what would keep an Iraqi victim of a U.S. cluster bomb from suing the military that dropped that cluster bomb on them, right? But I’m pretty sure there’s some paragraph somewhere in the rule books of the U.S. that says, “Oh, by the way, actions done by the military cannot be used in court cases against the U.S. government.” Something like that, probably, right? #Ali Borhani -- 4 of 13 -- Well, you're absolutely right, because there’s this codified statute—the U.S. Foreign Sovereign Immunities Act of 1976—and also the U.K. State Immunity Act of 1978, which say that a sovereign state cannot ordinarily be sued in another state’s courts without its consent. And that is so mind‑boggling. Basically, it’s like saying that, in principle, a burglar could declare in advance that you can’t sue them if they break into