September 13th marks what is known as World Law Day, an occasion intended to remind us of the rule of law, the protection of rights and freedoms, and the achievement of justice and peace. However, given what is happening in our world today, I do not know if we are supposed to celebrate the law or stand for a minute of silence for the state it has reached. What have we prepared for this day other than words? And which law are we celebrating while international laws, charters, and treaties are being violated in full view and hearing of the world? Perhaps the state of Law Day has become much like the occasions we celebrate every year only to forget their purpose the next day; we celebrate Mother's Day, while a mother in Gaza carries her martyred child, another searches for her children under the rubble, and a third does not know if she will find food or shelter for her family. We celebrate Children's Day while children are killed, wounded, displaced, and deprived of the most basic rights of childhood. Then comes Law Day for us to talk to people about justice, the rule of law, and international humanitarian law. So where is justice when the application of the law becomes linked to the name of a state, its power, and its alliances? And where is the rule of law when one state can do whatever it wants, while another is held accountable for much less? This is precisely where the tragedy lies; the world does not suffer from a lack of laws. We have the UN Charter, the Geneva Conventions, the International Court of Justice, the International Criminal Court, and hundreds of agreements, treaties, and resolutions. We have international humanitarian law that established clear rules to protect civilians during armed conflicts, primarily the distinction between civilians and combatants, the prohibition of indiscriminate attacks, and the obligation to respect the principle of proportionality. The problem, therefore, is not that the world does not know the law, but that it knows it well and then disagrees on its application when it reaches the doors of the powerful. Perhaps Palestine is the clearest test for this international system; on July 19, 2024, the International Court of Justice said in its advisory opinion that the continued Israeli presence in the Occupied Palestinian Territory is illegal, that Israel must end this presence as rapidly as possible and stop all new settlement activities immediately. It also affirmed that the occupation of territory does not grant the occupying state sovereignty over it and that security concerns cannot override the principle of the prohibition of the acquisition of territory by force. Well, the court has had its say, so what next? Here begins the problem that many do not want to face. What is the value of the law having its say if the implementation of that word remains subject to the balance of power? And what is the value of the court if the weak wait for its ruling, while the strong can wait for political circumstances to change? And what is the meaning of international legitimacy if adherence to it is mandatory for some and subject to political calculations when it comes to others? The issue here is bigger than Palestine, although Palestine encapsulates the entire tragedy; it is the issue of a world that has begun to gradually lose the distinction between the "rule of law" and the "rule of force." In our region, we do not need law books to realize the scale of this paradox; look at Palestine, look at Lebanon and Syria, at the assaults on sovereignty and borders, and at the civilians who pay the price of wars, then listen to international statements: we call for restraint, we are concerned, we demand respect for international law, we call on the parties to comply. Phrases that have become memorized from repetition, while the blood that flows is real, the houses that are demolished are real, the land that is occupied is real, and the human being who loses their life cannot live on the "concern of the international community." What makes the matter more dangerous is that silence is no longer always helplessness; in many cases, it is governed by interests. States know there is a violation but calculate the price of their position before calculating the price of the violation, and states raise the banner of the law when it serves their interests and then put it aside when the law becomes a burden on an ally. Thus, justice turns from a principle into a tool, and the law turns from a scale before which everyone is supposed to stand equal into a scale whose weights change according to the identity of the one standing on it. This, in my opinion, is the most dangerous crime that can be committed against the law itself, because when you convince peoples that the law does not protect them, that international resolutions are only implemented against those who cannot resist them, and that the power of the state is more important than the power of right, you are not just destroying people's trust in an institution or an international organization, but you are destroying the idea that the world tried to build after wars in which millions of people paid with their lives as the price for the absence of law. We are not asking for a perfect world, nor do we imagine that politics will one day be separated from interests, but there is a huge difference between states having interests and interests becoming a license to disable the law. And there is a difference between the international system being unable to prevent every crime and its inability becoming selective; strong against the weak, hesitant against the strong, and silent when the price of justice is high. Therefore, on Law Day, I do not want to congratulate anyone. I only want to ask: what have we prepared for the law? Have we prepared more conferences, speeches, and commemorative photos for it, or have we prepared a will to protect it when its application is difficult? What have we prepared for the mother for whom the name of an international convention matters less than her child staying alive? What have we prepared for the child who hears about children's rights while learning the names of weapons before learning the school alphabet? What have we prepared for the peoples who hear about the right to self-determination while major powers decide their fate for them? And what have we prepared for the states that hear about sovereignty and territorial integrity only to discover, at the first real test, that there is a distance between the texts of international law and the reality of politics measured by the size of power and influence? The law does not need a holiday if we are going to leave it alone for the rest of the year, and it does not need a new speech about justice as much as it needs justice that does not ask the victim about their nationality and does not ask the aggressor about their allies. The real Law Day will be the day when the strong becomes subject to the law just like the weak, the day when the influential cannot buy political silence, and the day when the life of a child in Gaza or anywhere else is truly equal to the life of any child in the world, not just in the texts of agreements. As for raising a glass today to celebrate the law, only to put the law itself on the shelf of international interests tomorrow, it might be more honest not to call September 13th a day to celebrate the law, but a day to ask ourselves and the world one question: if the law is respected only when the powerful allow it to be respected, then who is actually ruling the world... the law or force?