Vladimir Putin[Kremlin.ru_CC BY 4.0 Deed]; Geoffrey Robertson KC [Elizabeth Allnutt]

Every day more evidence is uncovered, every day more tragedies revealed.

As Vladimir Putin’s Russian soldiers wage war in Ukraine, crimes have been committed – and one day the perpetrators and the man who ordered the invasion will be held to account.

In his latest book, The Trial of Vladimir Putin, lawyer Geoffrey Robertson lays out how one of the most powerful men in the world must not be allowed to sleep easy at night, aware that he may live a pampered lifestyle behind the walls of the Kremlin today, international lawyers are gathering every piece of evidence they need to set out a case for Putin to be tried for crimes against humanity.

Geoffrey Robertson KC founded the Doughty Street Chambers in Holborn, now Europe’s largest human rights-focused legal practice. He has represented, among others, Salman Rushdie, Julian Assange, Gay News, Luna, the current president of Brazil, and journalists. A UN Appeal Judge and president of the war crimes court in Sierra Leone, he also is considered an enemy of the Russian state – he was “sanctioned” by the Putin government in 2022.

Here he lays out the case for trying Putin for war crimes, and how practically the head of the Russian state could possibly be brought to justice.

“Although he appears safe at present, with his generals and ministers paying him obeisance and having no political rival (Alexei Navalny having now been murdered or died from “sudden death syndrome”), change may come as it did with Slobodan Milošević and Putin may end up, years from now, shuffling into the dock like some old Nazi,” writes Robertson.

But what dock, which court and charged with what offence? This is what he sets out to answer in the book.

He begins with offences that range from the deliberate killing of civilians – by execution, bombing or other military means – the transportation of children, rape, pillage, the targeting of hospitals, churches, museums, bombarding towns, villages and buildings that are not military objectives and launching attacks that will cause long-term damage to the natural environment.

“Russian forces have been accused of committing all these crimes and more,” Robertson says.

He lays out how a fair trial could be held with Putin refusing to appear or recognise the jurisdiction of the court hearing the evidence. Drawing on precedents set at Nuremberg and more recent work by the International Criminal Court, he shows how a head of state can be tried.

And he tackles the thorny question of how it could be possible, considering the fact you cannot send police officers to the Kremlin with a warrant for his arrest and expect him to come quietly.

The UN Human Rights Committee says a suspect can be tried in their absence if they are told of what is afoot and then refuse to attend, he states.

“This is subject to a condition that there must be a retrial should the absent defendant later appear to contest their conviction,” he adds.

And it would both bring some solace to his many victims, and allow the evidence, undisputed, to be heard in public and recorded for history.

“If international law is to have any meaning, in absentia trials must be acceptable, so long as those indicted are properly defended by ‘amici curae’ – ‘friends of the court’, that is experienced advocates assigned to a defendant who refuses to be present,” he says.

Robertson points out that there is plenty of evidence straight from the suspect’s mouth: Putin’s speeches and writings show his thinking towards Ukraine.

The full invasion began on February 24, 2022 and has been carefully monitored.

“Not a day goes by without some atrocity: the bombing of homes and apartments, a drone hit on a church or on children playing outside a pizza restaurant or a direct hit on a blood transfusion centre or a public hospital clearly marked on serial maps as non-military targets but blasted nonetheless by Russian commanders well aware they are committing war crimes with the approval of a supreme commander-in-chief who is more likely to award them medals than to prosecute them,” says Robertson.

He considers the process to try heads of state and shows how a fundamental problem of charging Putin lies in there being no such court currently available to try him.

Across the world, only 44 countries have allowed themselves to be bound by the International Criminal Courts jurisdiction – and Russia is not among them. This means creating a new “aggression tribunal”, currently being worked on in The Hague. Robertson outlines what powers it would need.

“The tribunal will take time before it is open for business and it is unlikely that Putin will agree, or could be forced, to attend. So it must be given the power to try him in absentia, if international law on the use of force is vindicated,” he writes.

He lays out a background to the invasion of Ukraine and attempts to second guess the rationale Putin might use to justify his actions.

Robertson reminds of the promises made in 1990 over the reunification of Germany. Russia was told the Cold War was over: Nato would not expand eastwards and Bush, Thatcher and Major all repeated this vow to Gorbachev. In 1999, Gorbachev felt had been duped when Hungary, Poland and the Czech Republic joined Nato, soon followed by Bulgaria, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Romania, Slovakia and Slovenia.

“Nato was created as a military organisation to confront the USSR and its allies in the Warsaw Pact,” he writes. “It’s all-for-one pledge requires mutual assistance if any one member was invaded and the more its membership was expanded to include Russia’s neighbours, particularly ex-members of the USSR, the more obviously it would threaten Russia – although, as the prosecution will point out, only if Russia were to unlawfully invade them first.”

In 2022, Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelenskyy had proposed joining the alliance – but Nato did not offer membership. Putin argued Ukraine may join Nato, and Nato may launch a  pre-emptive strike on Russia at some time in the future, therefore Russia is attacking Ukraine in self-defence. It is a long-winded argument relying on a series of might-happen events, but one Robertson says had been used to justify the invasion and may be rolled out in court.

And while this cleverly argued and enlightening book lays out a route to hold Putin to account – and sends a warning to tyrants, demagogues, countries who look hungrily beyond their borders that global justice will eventually catch up with them– for Putin’s victims, it looks a long way off and riddled with political considerations.

While Robertson points out the element of hypothesis in his argument – “How could this political giant with personalised power over Russia and almost 6,000 nuclear warheads at his beck and call, be made accountable to any court set up by other countries?” – he adds it is vital Putin must not be considered beyond the reach of the law.

He can be vulnerable to legal action, and Robertson has given the international legal system an easy-to-follow manual on how to do it.
“International justice has no time limits,” he reminds us. “Radovan Karadžić and Ratko Mladić hid from it for 17 years – but ended up in its prisons convicted after fair trials.”

For every Putin – and the leaders of every other nation that wages war – this book is a timely warning that there are human rights lawyers watching, waiting and telling those who commit atrocities that they will, one day, be held accountable.

• The Trial of Vladimir Putin. By Geoffrey Robertson, Biteback Publishing, £14.99