Kaum beachtet von der Weltöffentlichkeit, bahnt sich der erste internationale Strafprozess gegen die Verantwortlichen und Strippenzieher der CoronaâP(l)andemie an. Denn beim Internationalem Strafgerichtshof (IStGH) in Den Haag wurde im Namen des britischen Volkes eine Klage wegen âVerbrechen gegen die Menschlichkeitâ gegen hochrangige und namhafte Eliten eingebracht. Corona-Impfung: Anklage vor Internationalem Strafgerichtshof wegen Verbrechen gegen die Menschlichkeit! â UPDATE
Eine kĂŒrzlich veröffentlichte japanische Datenbank, in der 18 Millionen geimpfte BĂŒrger erfasst sind, hat ein erschreckendes Muster aufgedeckt, wie der Substack The Vigilant Fox berichtet. Sie zeigt einen massiven Anstieg der Sterblichkeit Monate nach der Covid-«Impfung». Zudem treten die Sterblichkeitsspitzen mit jeder zusĂ€tzlichen Dosis frĂŒher auf, was auf eine kumulative ToxizitĂ€t durch wiederholte mRNA-Injektionen hindeutet.
Am auffĂ€lligsten ist den Daten zufolge der steile Anstieg der TodesfĂ€lle nach der dritten Dosis. Er war nicht nur am höchsten, sondern erschien auch frĂŒher, und zwar drei bis vier Monate nach der letzten Injektion. Im Gegensatz zu den Geimpften zeigen ungeimpfte Bevölkerungsgruppen keine solche Spitzen in der Sterblichkeit. Dr. Yasufumi Murakami, emeritierter Professor fĂŒr Biotechnologie und Wissenschaft an der Tokyo University of Science, warnte deshalb:
«Wir haben herausgefunden, dass mit zunehmender Anzahl der Dosen der Höhepunkt der TodesfĂ€lle schneller eintritt, das heiĂt: Je mehr Dosen man erhĂ€lt, desto eher stirbt man wahrscheinlich innerhalb eines kĂŒrzeren Zeitraums. Das Risiko steigt also mit zunehmender Dosis. Wenn der Impfstoff keine ToxizitĂ€t hĂ€tte oder nicht zum Tod fĂŒhren wĂŒrde, gĂ€be es keinen Spitzenwert. Das ist der Punkt.»
Murakami hat ĂŒber 100 Studien veröffentlicht und ist weiterhin wissenschaftlich aktiv, etwa als stellvertretender Direktor am Research Center for RNA Science der der Tokyo University of Science.
Laut The Vigilant Fox wurden die Daten von den Regierungen unterdrĂŒckt und von den Konzernmedien abgetan. Sie seien aber von der Journalistin Masako Ganaha und einem japanischen Forscherteam publik gemacht worden. Ganaha schrieb auf X:
«Wenn die Regierung es nicht tun will, dann sollte das Volk das Massensterben unter Japanern untersuchen! Datenbank von 18 Millionen geimpften Menschen zum ersten Mal offengelegt!»
Der Klimawandel erwÀrmt den eisigen Boden im Schweizer Hochgebirge. Wo das Eis schmilzt können FelshÀnge instabiler werden. Neue Daten zeigen, welche VerÀnderungen drohen.
Bis zu 90 Prozent der in Europa eingesetzten Antibiotika kommen aus Asien, die meisten davon aus China. Nun will die EU-Kommission Europa bei diesen und anderen Medikamenten unabhÀngiger machen. Doch der Weg dahin ist ebenso unklar wie die Kosten.
Das natĂŒrliche Produkt Kaffee wird immer teurer, von den negativen Folgen des Anbaus fĂŒr Umwelt und Menschen ganz zu schweigen. Nun versuchen Forscher, das Genussmittel in Bioreaktoren herzustellen.
Wenn sich mĂ€nnliche Paviane um ihren weiblichen Nachwuchs kĂŒmmern, hat das einen positiven Effekt auf die Lebensdauer. Das zeigt eine aktuelle Studie aus Kenya.
The recent Opinion of Advocate General (AG) Äapeta in Case Câ769/22 European Commission v Hungary marks a key moment in the evolving case law on Article 2 TEU. The case concerns Hungaryâs controversial 2021 legislation restricting access to content portraying or promoting LGBTI identities. Äapeta argues that Article 2 TEU can serve as a stand-alone legal basis to challenge national measures.
Although the Opinionâs legal reasoning has faced criticism, I find it convincing and welcome its clear stance that Member States cannot use national identity to justify discriminatory measures violating common Union values. While Äapetaâs position on Article 2 TEU is unprecedented, I believe it reflects a broader shift in the Courtâs jurisprudence. Building upon previous contributions on Verfassungsblog (here and here), this post situates the Opinion within that development and assesses its implications for future value-based interventions.
Overview
AG Äapetaâs opinion addresses Hungaryâs 2021 âAmending Law,â (para. 20 of the Opinion) which imposed restrictions on content portraying or promoting LGBTI identities under the guise of protecting minors, by restricting access to such content that portrays or promotes gender identities that do not correspond to the sex assigned at birth, sex reassignment or homosexuality (para. 2). Following an extensive analysis, the AG concludes that Hungaryâs legislation breaches EU law on three fronts: fundamental rights, internal market freedoms, and core EU values under Article 2 TEU.
In particular, AG Äapeta supports the Commissionâs pioneering argument that Hungaryâs law violates Article 2 TEU, which safeguards the core EU values (para. 247). The AG further asserts that Article 2 TEU is justiciable as a stand-alone basis (paras 189-197). Hungaryâs legislation, she argues, institutionalizes discrimination against LGBTI communities (paras 257-264), thereby ânegatingâ EU values and posing a systemic threat to the EUâs constitutional identity, crossing a âred lineâ for EU membership (paras 155-158 and 212).
National identity and EU values: red lines in constitutional dialogue
At the centre of AG Äapetaâs Opinion lies the interpretation of Article 2 TEU, which enumerates the EUâs foundational values. The novelty of this case is that it marks the first instance where the ECJ is asked to rule on a self-standing infringement of Article 2 TEU, independent of breaches of specific Charter rights or secondary legislation. The AGâs Opinion sheds light on the ongoing discourse regarding the limitations of national identity argumentation as well as the justiciability of the normative core of EUâs constitutional identity, meaning Article 2 TEU values.
A key point in the Opinion is that while Member States may interpret how to apply EU values, they cannot negate the values themselves (paras 237-238). In this sense, the AG argues that Hungaryâs legislation crosses this boundary by institutionalizing the unequal treatment of LGBTI individuals, contravening the EUâs commitment to equality and human dignity under Article 2 TEU (paras 268-269 and 271). This conclusion aligns with broader scholarly discourse (see here, here and here) on European identity, which suggests that national and EU identities can coexist only if Member States affirm these shared core values, rather than contradict them.
The AG also draws on two recent key ECJ judgments, establishing a connection between the concept of mutual trust, which is fundamental to European cooperation, and the adherence to these shared values (C-156/21 Hungary v Parliament and Council and C-157/21 Poland v Parliament and Council). In these cases, the Court linked the concept of mutual trust to Member Statesâ adherence to the rule of law under Article 2 TEU. More specifically, the Court asserted that mutual trust is not merely assumed but is contingent upon compliance with Article 2 TEU, which defines the EUâs identity as a legal system. The Court noted that while Member States maintain the protection of their national identities, they also share and must uphold the rule of law, as a shared EU value enshrined in Article 2 TEU, constituting the normative core of EU constitutionalism.
Thus, further endorsing the AGâs argumentation at hand regarding the direct justiciability of this provision, the ECJ concluded that it authorised to intervene when EU values are jeopardized under the guise of national identity, thereby balancing national sovereignty with the principle of absolute primacy of EU law. Expanding on this claim, the AG proposes given that upholding EU values is essential for the EU legal order, that these values can be applied directly and irrespectively of other violations of EU treatiesâ provisions, according to Article 258 TFEU that enables the Court to safeguard the upholding of EU law by the Member States (paras 191-194).
In an analogous manner, in the recent golden passport judgment, the ECJ further clarified that the EU citizenship is a fundamental component in the progress of EU integration, embodying solidarity and trust among Member States. In this sense, citizenship extends beyond mere national affiliation, encompassing adherence to the shared values outlined in Article 2 TEU (para. 95). Consequently, Member States are required to confer nationality in a manner consistent with EU citizenship and these shared values. These judgments thus reveal an increasing judicial reliance on Article 2 TEU, raising the question of why it should not function as an independent legal basis. In essence, the central prominence of EU values within the EUâs constitutional framework as well as the recent case law of the Court, seem to favor the AGâs argumentation, thereby positioning Article 2 TEU at the apex of the Unionâs constitutional hierarchy.
Justiciability of Article 2 TEU: a new frontier in EU law
The ECJâs evolving case law suggests broad acceptance of invoking Article 2 TEU. However, its justiciability as a standalone legal basis remains contested (see here and here). So far, the ECJ has not ruled on Article 2 TEU as a sole justiciable ground, while progressively embracing the justiciability of this provision. This perspective was evident in the Associação Sindical dos JuĂzes Portugueses judgment, where the Court invoked Article 2 TEU for the first time as a legal foundation. The Court asserted that Article 19(1) TEU embodies the rule of law as articulated in Article 2 TEU. Furthermore, the Court elucidated the relationship between Articles 2 and 10 TEU (here and here), stating that Article 10(1) TEU reflects the Unionâs commitment to representative democracy, a value enshrined in Article 2 TEU. This interpretation implies that Article 2 TEU requires the support of other Treaty provisions for its application, as it lacks standalone normative value, since, in previous case law of the Court, Article 2 TEU has been invoked alongside breaches of specific Charter rights or EU legislation.
Contrary to that, AG Äapetaâs Opinion breaks new ground by arguing the direct justiciability of Article 2 TEU as a standalone provision. AG Äapeta, following the Commissionâs line of reasoning (paras 26, 31â32), presents Hungaryâs law as a rejection of LGBTI equality. Thereby she positions Article 2 TEU as a tool to address structural threats to the EUâs constitutional order. The AG distinguishes between permissible divergences in applying rights (e.g., through varying standards) and impermissible attacks on the values underpinning those rights.
Further, the AG draws a crucial distinction: occasional violations of specific rights do not suffice to invoke Article 2 TEU. What is required is the negation of EU valuesâa systemic level of breach (paras 248, 253). It is not the quantity, but the intensity of the violation that matters (for the opposite view see here). As for the exact level of deficit needed to be considered systemic, this requires widespread, fundamental flaws within a Member Stateâs legal system. Hence, it is for the Court to determine in concreto whether these prerequisites are fulfilled.
The ECJ, she argues, can determine on a case-by-case basis where that line lies (para.212). In doing so, the AG strengthens the ECJâs role as the ultimate arbiter of what constitutes a breach of the EUâs âred lines,â the values in Article 2 TEU. These are not merely political guidelines but the foundational legal principles of the Union. In the words of the AG (para. 215):
âThe Court of Justice is a constitutional court, and basic constitutional principles are often, at the same time, political and legal. Inasmuch as Article 2 TEU expresses the choice for a constitutional democracy which respects human rights, the Court of Justiceâs defence of those values is not its political choice, but its constitutional task.â
Finally, I incline towards the opinion (contrary to Kaiser) that the AGâs use of the term âgood societyâ (paras 157 and 177), though uncommon in legal reasoning, is not out of place. The Treaties were drafted with the vision of a European society based on these shared values. The selection of these values is primarily an ethical assessment of what constitutes a good society. Therefore, referencing the ethical foundation of the Unionâs values does not diminish but rather substantiates their invocation as an independent legal basis.
Implications for national sovereignty and EU integration
The implication of AG Äapetaâs Opinion for delineating the boundaries of national sovereignty within the EU legal framework of multilevel constitutionalism are far-reaching. Hungary defended its legislation as a legitimate exercise of its right to protect minors and uphold parental rights, which is a domain traditionally regulated by national law. AG Äapeta, however, rejects this justification, noting that the law targets âordinary lives of LGBTI peopleâ rather than explicit or harmful content (paras 88-92 and 110-114). She underscores that Member States cannot implement measures undermining EU values, especially when such measures lack any empirical evidence of harm (paras 118, 283-284).
This reasoning, building upon previous case law of the ECJ (Case C-808/18, Commission v Hungary; Joined Cases C-715/17, C-718/17, C-719/17, Commission v Poland and others; Case Câ156/21, European Parliament and Council v Hungary; Case Câ157/21, European Parliament and Council v Poland), rejects the perception that national identity can be unrestrainedly invoked to circumvent EU obligations. While the principle of subsidiarity allows Member States to tailor policies to local contexts, AG Äapeta clarifies that the erosion of the fundamental values of the Union is, in any case, not permitted. The Opinion thus reaffirms that EU membership entails an irrevocable commitment to upholding the EUâs constitutional identity, as enshrined primarily in Article 2 TEU, even in areas of shared competence (paras 180, 223).
AG Äapetaâs Opinion also has far-reaching consequences for the EUâs evolving legal and political landscape. By embracing Article 2 TEU as a stand-alone, justiciable standard, the Opinion strengthens the Courtâs ability to hold Member States accountable for systemic violations of democratic norms. This is particularly relevant in light of ongoing disputes with Poland and Hungary over judicial independence and media freedom (see here for Poland and Hungary), where Article 2 TEU could serve as a basis for future litigation. The Courtâs emerging case law thus signals a shift from a primarily economic union to a Union of values.
Conclusion
AG Äapetaâs Opinion in Commission v Hungary represents a pivotal moment in the discourse on EU values and constitutional identity. It advances a European identity that complements national identities, provided those identities operate within the framework of shared values.
Despite that, this approach raises questions about the limits of utilizing EU valuesâ legal armory in resolving cultural and political conflicts. As the EU grapples with illiberal trends, the ECJâs willingness to enforce Article 2 TEU will test its constitutional orderâs resilience. AG Äapetaâs Opinion charts a path for the EU to assert its values as non-negotiable pillars of EU membership, ensuring pluralism does not compromise fundamental principles agreed upon by Member States. Thus, the upcoming ruling will determine whether this vision becomes a binding precedent.
On May 22, 2025, the Inter-American Court of Human Rights (IACHR) held a hearing in Ramos Durand et al. v. Peru, a case that could redefine state responsibility for forced sterilizations and strengthen standards on reproductive autonomy. This is only the second forced sterilization case before the Court (after I.V. v. Bolivia) and the first addressing a widespread, state-led policy of coercion like Peruâs.
A central issue in the hearing was whether Celia gave free and informed consent to her sterilization, and how to assess it within a broader context of structural coercion. The victimsâ expert described the procedure as part of a systematic and bureaucratized policy targeting vulnerable women. In contrast, the Stateâs expert argued that Celia had given valid consent according to Peruvian civil law, framing sterilization as a public health measure.
As the Court weighs these opposing positions, this commentary situates Celia Ramosâs case within the broader historical and structural context of Peruâs sterilization policies. It outlines international human rights standards that should guide the Courtâs analysis and argues that understanding the full scope of violations requires addressing the underlying inequalities and institutional violence that enabled them.
A Systemic Policy of Reproductive Violence in Peru
Between 1980 and 2000, Peru experienced an internal armed conflict that, according to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (âTruth Commissionâ), constituted âthe most intense, extensive, and prolonged episode of violence in the countryâs republican history.â The Truth Commission documented a strong link between poverty, social exclusion, and the likelihood of victimization, noting that most victims were rural subsistence farmers.
This context of structural violence and marginalization laid the foundation for public policies that deepened inequalities, particularly in reproductive health. In 1996, President Alberto Fujimori launched the National Reproductive Health and Family Planning Program (1996â2000) (NRHFPP). Official records report at least 265,824 sterilizations, while other experts estimate the number exceeds 300,000. While no definitive count exists, the program led in practice to the mass sterilization of hundreds of thousands of women.
The program aimed to expand contraceptive coverage to between 50% and 70% of women of reproductive age, and to ensure that all patients receiving institutional care for childbirth or abortion were discharged using a contraceptive method after counseling. A key strategy to achieve these objectives was the promotion of surgical sterilization, particularly tubal ligation.
Though national in scope, the program prioritized women of reproductive age, pregnant women, and those at risk of unintended pregnancy, predominantly low-income populations. Amid post-conflict inequality, the program framed its objectives within a discourse of a âwar on povertyâ, marginalization, and lack of family planning information. It justified the policy by pointing out that low-income women had higher fertility rates and less access to contraceptive methods. Rooted in neo-Malthusian logic, the policy was presented as a means to reduce poverty.
Human rights organizations began documenting abuses as early as 1996. The Ombudspersonâs Office received its first formal complaints in 1997 and published a 1998 report highlighting the absence of safeguards to guarantee free and informed choice. Researchers and civil society groups uncovered systemic violations, including mandatory quotas for surgical contraception in health centers and among medical personnel.
A system of incentives and sanctions reinforced the policy: healthcare providers received cash or in-kind payments for each sterilized woman, while promotions, demotions, and the allocation of medical equipment were tied to the fulfillment of sterilization targets and quotas. The program was also implemented through mass campaigns. DEMUS reported large-scale operations aimed at recruiting women for tubal ligation, including so-called âligation festivals,â which promoted sterilization as a path to happiness and often offered food or money as incentives.
Deceptive practices were widespread. Many women were misinformed about the nature of the procedure or told it was minor. In other cases, they were offered debt forgiveness related to childbirth or abortion in exchange for agreeing to be sterilized. Within a broader context of poverty and exclusion, sterilization often became a transactional means of accessing healthcare or food, services the state was already obligated to provide.
The program operated in an authoritarian and militarized environment. In certain areas, military doctors participated in procedures, and soldiers were stationed outside operating rooms, reinforcing the coercive and state-driven character of the interventions.
Celia Ramos Durandâs Case
Within this broader pattern, the case of Celia Ramos is paradigmatic. A 34-year-old mother of three from a rural village in Piura, Celia fit the target profile of the program. A local nurse repeatedly pressured her to undergo tubal ligation. Her daughter testified that women were told the procedure was âas simple as pulling a toothâ and were not fully informed of the risks. On July 3, 1997, Celia underwent surgery and died from complications, as the health center lacked the equipment and medication to perform it safely.
In this case, the Inter-American Commission argues that the sterilization was rooted in gender stereotypes and structural discrimination, violating Celiaâs rights to health and reproductive autonomy. The procedure, carried out without her informed consent, amounted to arbitrary interference with her private life.
Her death was never properly investigated, and the persistent impunity has caused deep harm to her family.
Forced Sterilizations in the Inter-American System
Years later, in I.V. v. Bolivia, the Court addressed forced sterilization and developed key standards on informed consent. I.V., a Peruvian woman living in Bolivia, was sterilized without her knowledge during childbirth, learning only the next day of her permanent loss of reproductive capacity. The Court affirmed that informed consent before a medical intervention with permanent consequences on reproductive capacity is part of the rights to autonomy and private life (para. 162). It emphasized that every person must be able to make free decisions about their life plan, including whether to have children, how many, and when (para. 162).
The Court held that informed consent must be prior, free, full, and informed, interrelated elements that require a cumulative process, not a one-time acceptance (para. 166). Consent must be given without threats, coercion, inducement, or improper incentives, and only after receiving adequate, complete, reliable, and accessible information (para. 165). That information must be effectively understood, enabling an autonomous and informed decision. Health providers must explain the diagnosis, procedure, associated risks and benefits, alternatives, side effects, and the consequences of the treatment (para. 189). The IACHR also recognized that gender stereotypes and inequality deepen power imbalances in medical settings (paras. 186-7).
However, in I.V., the Court found that the facts did not reflect a state policy or a context of systematic violence (para. 297). This makes Ramos Durand a unique opportunity for the Court to rule on a stateâs international responsibility for implementing a widespread, structural, and coercive policy of forced sterilization.
International Standards on Forced Sterilization
Within the UN system, the CEDAW Committee (CEDAW), the Special Rapporteur on Violence Against Women, and the Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination (CERD) have classified forced sterilization as a form of gender-based violence that violates womenâs physical integrity and security. The Special Rapporteur has noted that the practice disproportionately affects women due to entrenched stereotypes about their reproductive role (see Report, para. 21). Non-consensual sterilizations are often justified by assumptions that women are incapable of making responsible decisions about their reproductive health, are unworthy of contraception, unfit to be âgood mothers,â or that their children are undesirable.
The CERD, CEDAW, and the Special Rapporteurs on Torture and Violence Against Women have also underscored that such practices often target ethnic and racial minorities, constituting intersectional discrimination. Depending on the circumstances, these practices may also constitute torture or cruel, inhuman, or degrading treatment. The Special Rapporteur on Torture and the CEDAW Committee have both stressed that forced sterilization is a form of violence and social control, violating the right to be free from ill-treatment. The mandate on torture specifically notes that coercive sterilizations under state-run family planning policies may amount to torture.
As UN bodies have emphasized, individuals must have the right to choose or refuse sterilization. Respecting autonomy means that any counseling or information provided by healthcare workers must be non-directive, empowering individuals to make the best decisions for themselves. It also requires that patients be fully aware that sterilization is a permanent procedure and of reversible alternatives. Consent must always come from the patient herself and can never be overridden by arguments of medical necessity or emergency if consent is still possible.
This issue has also been addressed in the Peruvian context. In October 2024, the CEDAW Committee ruled on a complaint by five victims of forced sterilizations under Peruâs national program. It concluded that the violations constituted gender-based and intersectional discrimination based on sex, gender, rural origin, and socioeconomic status (para. 8.6). The Committee recommended reparations, continued investigation, and broader reparative measures (para. 9).
Finally, under the Rome Statute, enforced sterilization is classified as a crime against humanity when committed as part of a widespread or systematic attack against civilians. The IACHR has previously qualified acts under its jurisdiction as crimes against humanity, such as in Almonacid Arellano et al. v. Chile (para. 104). Given the widespread, and large-scale nature of Peruâs sterilization program, the Court could also address this in its ruling and whether it will include references to the principle of non-applicability of statutory limitations.
Conclusion
The upcoming Ramos Durand judgment represents a critical opportunity to address a long-standing chapter of impunity in Peru. It could also redefine regional legal standards on structural reproductive violence and set a powerful precedent for Latin American women subjected to such practices. For the first time, the IACHR may explicitly characterize forced sterilizations as reproductive violence and thus as a form of gender-based violence, contributing to a broader and more inclusive understanding of reproductive rights violations within the regional human rights framework.
Central to this analysis is the question of how structural conditions affect autonomy and undermine informed consent. How does decision-making unfold in militarized and coercive environments? In what ways do state-run campaigns distort or suppress individual agency? What are the implications of transactional dynamics in contexts of poverty and exclusion? The Courtâs reasoning on how factors such as militarization, institutional coercion, poverty, and gendered stereotypes converge to erode autonomy will be essential for understanding how reproductive injustice operates, and for defining the legal contours of state responsibility in preventing and remedying such violations.
âWe do not subscribe to the widely-held belief that the affairs of nations can be successfully conducted on a military level. In the worldâs recent history there is abundant evidence to prove that neither threats of superior force nor displays of armed might have been able to create the climate in which peace can take root. The great malady which affects humanity today is fear, born of tensions following the armaments race. Fear is a bad counsellor and reduces those who fall within its grasp to a state in which no positive action is possible.â1)
Vijaya Lakshmi Pandit was born as Swarupa Kumari Nehru in the city of AllahÄbÄd, India, on August 18th 1900 into a wealthy Kashmiri family. Her father, Motilal Pandit â a successful Oxford-educated lawyer, politician and Ghandian nationalist â put particular emphasis on ensuring that Pandit would become the educated woman needed by the Indian nationalist movement at the time.2) She became literate in English before she learned how to read and write Hindi and was home-schooled by an English governess and tutors, in line with the Western way of life only accessible to the privileged classes in Colonial India.3)Â Motilal Pandit believed that Indians, in the 20th-century world order, had to become English people if they wanted to succeed globally.4)
Vijaya Lakshmi Panditâs fluent command of the English language alongside her Anglophile education certainly paved the way for her later career in international relations.
In 1921, she married lawyer Ranjit Sitaram Pandit. His family picked the name Vijaya Lakshmi Pandit for her, replacing her birthname Swarupa Kumari Nehru; a procedure customary in Hindu circles at the time.5) They had three daughters before Ranjit Pandit passed away in 1944 while serving a prison sentence for his acts of civil disobedience against British imperial rule. As they had no sons and Ranjit left no will guaranteeing her a share of his inheritance, Hindu communal law transferred the familyâs money and property to the closest male relative in her husbandâs family.6) Pandit was offered minimal widow maintenance alongside payments for their daughters until they were married by the Pandit family. She accepted this offer, relying on the support of her brother Nehru â who was himself serving a prison sentence for his nationalist activism â and Mahatma Ghandi, who urged her not to pursue a legal case against her in-laws as they âhad more important things to doâ in pursuit of an independent post-colonial India.7)
Panditâs contribution to the fight against British colonialism and securing Indian independence
Alongside her male relatives Vijaya Lakshmi Pandit herself became a prominent figure in the fight against the British colonial rule in India. She followed the Ghandian line of Indian nationalism and was imprisoned three times following acts of civil disobedience such as sit-ins.8) In the Nehru family, challenging British imperialism became a family affair â Pandit served her final prison sentence in India in 1942 alongside her then 20-year-old daughter.9)
Following her national activism, Pandit was approached by Sir Tej Bahadur Sapru, then President of the Indian Council for World Affairs, to speak on behalf of India to the United States. To assert control over her following her civil disobedience, the British had confiscated Panditâs passport to heavily restrict her international mobility. However, after meeting the chief of the Allied Air Command in the Eastern region at a consulate dinner, Pandit secured a US visa and arrived in the United States aboard a US army plane in 1944.10)
In the United States, Pandit attended an Allied-led conference in Virginia on post-war developments in Asia as a member of an Indian observer delegation. The following year, she used every opportunity to demand Indian independence and called for an indictment of the colonial system, especially in lectures all over the country.11) She attended the United Nations Conference in International Organization in San Francisco in 1945 as an unofficial representative of India (which was officially represented by three cabinet members of the British Indian government). There, she emphasised the historic importance of the UNâs stance on colonialism and imperialism â challenging the very principles of the nascent organisation.12)
Representing a newly independent nation
When India finally gained independence in 1947, Panditâs brother Nehru became the first Indian prime minister. Having proved herself on the international stage campaigning for Indian Independence in the United States, Pandit was sent to the USSR as the first ambassador for India (1947 â 49), followed by postings to the United States, Mexico, Spain and as High Commissioner to the United Kingdom.13)
In 1953, Pandit was elected President of the UN General Assembly for the eighth session. She was the first woman to be elected as president of the Assembly and remains the only Indian person to hold this position to this day.
Pandit continued to use her voice in the United Nations to draw attention to ongoing colonialism worldwide and to demand equal rights and freedom for the oppressed everywhere. In a speech at a UN plenary meeting in 1948, she stated that the
âIndian delegation, believing in the freedom of all peoples, wished to see the early termination of colonial system, and the speedy attainment of self government by all peoples inhabiting colonial or Trust Territories. It insisted on the strict observance of Chapters XI and XII [of the UN Charter], both in spirit and letter. In particular, it urged the colonial Powers to realize that the two hundred million people inhabiting the Non-Self-Governing Territories read into the provisions of the Charter relating to such territories far more than the colonial Powers were inclined to do so.â14)
After her diplomatic career, Pandit continued to serve the Indian people as a national politician. She died in 1990. Despite her challenges as both Indian and a woman in the Western and male-dominated international arena during the first half of the 20th century15), Pandit set the tone against colonialism in the newly established United Nations. In India, she is fondly remembered for her courageous stance against British colonialism.
âEnvoy Extraordinary â A Study of Vijaya Lakshmi Pandit and her Contribution to Modern Indiaâ by Vera Brittain, George Allen & Unwin Ltd., 1965; p. 41.
âIndian Women in Freedom Struggleâ by Dr. Kamlakar Suryawanshi in Special Issue No. 122 âContribution of Women in Indian Freedom Struggleâ, Aayushi â International Interdisciplinary Research Journal (AIIRJ) March 2023, p. 78.
âA New Hope: India, the United Nations and the Making of the Universal Declaration of Human Rightsâ by Manu Bhagavan, Modern Asian Studies Vol. 44, No. 2, Cambridge University Press March 2010, p. 315.
âIndia and the Quest for One World â The Peacemakersâ by Prof. Manu Bhagavan, Palgrave Macmillan 2013, p. 52; âPortraits of Women in International Lawâ by Parvathi Menon, edited by Immi Tallgren, Oxford University Press 2023, p. 244.
Summary of Panditâs remarks before the 143rd UN Plenary Meeting, 25 January 1948, in âIndia at the United Nationsâ by S. K. Madhavan, APH Pub. Corp. 1999, Vol. 1 p. 22.