Teaching the UNHRC accountability

• Human rights law, by contrast, is founded on the concept of universal rights which the international community is duty-bound to uphold
• International human rights institutions become vulnerable to manipulation by powerful states seeking to bypass traditional sovereignty safeguards in order to impose their political will on weaker nations
• An organisation is only as credible as the officials who operate it. If officials know they may be held accountable for violating the organisation’s principles, they are more likely to resist politicisation
• At the heart of this problem lies a fundamental tension between the principles of international law and those of human rights law
• Human rights law is among the most rapidly developing areas of contemporary law 

By Dharshan Weerasekera     

The acceptance by the UN Office of Internal Oversight Services (OIOS) of a complaint against the UNHRC’s external mechanism on Sri Lanka should be welcomed by anyone who values the rule of law in international affairs. The OIOS is the UN’s internal watchdog, mandated to investigate financial and administrative misconduct within the organisation and its subsidiary organs. The complaint — filed in mid-September 2025 by an international NGO and three Sri Lankan citizens (including the present author) — alleges that the Office of the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR), which oversees the “Sri Lanka Accountability Project” (SLAP), is guilty of such misconduct. In late October, the OIOS informed one of the complainants that it had reviewed the matter and “taken appropriate action.” (The complaint, along with all relevant documents, is available as an e-book on www.ceehale.org.)

This response offers a ray of hope, particularly to people in the Global South, that there remains at least one avenue within the UN system through which the concerns of private citizens can be heard. At the same time, it underscores the urgent need for reform within the UNHRC itself, so that private citizens may challenge the Council’s actions when they consider them harmful to their countries.

The complainants turned to the OIOS because no such mechanism exists within the UNHRC. While one of the Council’s founding instruments — UNHRC Resolution 5/1 (Institution-building within the Human Rights Council) — provides for a “Complaint Procedure,” this mechanism is limited to examining allegations of gross human rights violations by states, not complaints against the Council or its officials. This gap urgently calls for scholarly attention and institutional reform.

The problem that gave rise to the complaint goes far beyond Sri Lanka. It reveals a deeper lacuna in both international law and human rights scholarship. Human rights law is among the most rapidly developing areas of contemporary law. Much of this development focuses on expanding its scope to include groups and issues previously neglected — women, children, indigenous peoples, minorities, and enforced disappearances during conflicts. Yet little attention is paid to what happens when powerful states use the UN and its subsidiary organs as instruments to interfere in the internal affairs of weaker states under the banner of human rights. They often do so by securing UN resolutions that provide the moral and legal justification for such interventions. The invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan illustrate this practice.

At the heart of this problem lies a fundamental tension between the principles of international law and those of human rights law. International law is ultimately based on the consent of sovereign states, making respect for sovereignty a cornerstone of the system. Article 2(7) of the UN Charter, which prohibits undue interference in the internal affairs of states, reflects this principle.

Human rights law, by contrast, is founded on the concept of universal rights which the international community is duty-bound to uphold. This implies that where gross violations occur, the international community has a moral obligation to intervene. In such a framework, international human rights institutions become vulnerable to manipulation by powerful states seeking to bypass traditional sovereignty safeguards in order to impose their political will on weaker nations.

It is unlikely that the power dynamics underpinning international relations will fundamentally change. As Thucydides observed, “The strong do what they will, and the weak suffer what they must.” Since the root cause cannot be eliminated, the rational response is to mitigate its effects. One way of doing this is to establish procedures for holding UN officials accountable when they assist in formulating policies, preparing reports, or conducting fact-finding missions that facilitate politically motivated country-specific measures. An organisation is only as credible as the officials who operate it. If officials know they may be held accountable for violating the organisation’s principles, they are more likely to resist politicisation.

The difficulty, of course, lies in the doctrine of immunity, which is essential for the functioning of international organisations. If every decision of the UNHRC could be challenged by affected individuals, the Council’s ability to act would be paralysed. It would become impossible for it to fulfil its mandate.

There is, however, a conceptual solution. Since enforcement of human rights often constitutes an exception to sovereignty, it should be possible to limit immunity where such enforcement is demonstrably unfair, discriminatory, or unjust. The key issue, therefore, is not whether immunity should be limited, but under what conditions. Guidance can be found in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights itself — a source rarely invoked for this purpose. Article 30 of the UDHR states:

“Nothing in this Declaration may be interpreted as implying for any State, group or person any right to engage in any activity or to perform any act aimed at the destruction of any of the rights and freedoms set forth herein.”

This provision clearly implies that no individual or institution may use human rights as a pretext to destroy other fundamental rights. This is sufficient to form the basis of a legal doctrine for limiting immunity where human rights mechanisms are abused.

Politicisation of the UNHRC manifests itself most clearly in the unequal application of its resources. The SLAP, for instance, has operated since 2021 despite being rejected by successive Sri Lankan Governments, including the present one. Each time its mandate comes up for renewal, a group of states led by the UK and Canada — the so-called “Core Group” on Sri Lanka — applies sustained pressure to push the relevant resolution through. The most recent such resolution was adopted at the UNHRC’s 60th session. It was reported at the outset that forty-three states opposed a new resolution on Sri Lanka, with some explicitly objecting to the extension of the SLAP’s mandate. Yet both the resolution and the extension were approved.

Supporters of the SLAP argue that it is necessary to hold accountable those responsible for war crimes and other violations allegedly committed during the conflict with the LTTE. The material in its repository, however, remains secret. Neither the Sri Lankan government nor the public can scrutinise it or challenge its contents before it is transmitted to third parties for action against the country.

The defeat of the LTTE in May 2009 brought peace and security to Sri Lanka. Without peace and security, the meaningful enjoyment of human rights is impossible. The High Commissioner has stated that the SLAP contains evidence of crimes against humanity. If such evidence is used to justify international endorsement of a right to self-determination for Tamils in Sri Lanka — led, for example, by the UK or Canada — any attempt to pursue secession would almost inevitably result in renewed violence.

In that scenario, the persistent promotion of the SLAP by these states would effectively amount to an attempt to deprive the majority of Sri Lankans of their right to live in peace and security. Such conduct would, on its face, fall within the type of behaviour that Article 30 of the UDHR seeks to prohibit. The SLAP thus provides an ideal platform for scholarly examination of the relevance of Article 30 to the functioning of the UNHRC.

The acceptance by the OIOS of the complaint against the SLAP demonstrates that there are legitimate grounds for concern regarding this mechanism. Yet if this process triggers a serious discussion on accountability and reform within the UNHRC, it may ultimately serve a constructive purpose. In that sense, one might even say that some good has come from it.