Elusive Allusions
The architecture of the new International Criminal Court in The Hague
The architecture of the new International Criminal Court in The Hague
Sometimes metaphors can be unfaithful. Such is the case at the International Criminal Court’s (ICC) new permanent premises in The Hague, which officially opened this April. The complex is dominated by six glistening glass towers of varying heights rising from a collective rectangular concourse, and the conceit advanced by both the court and its architects –that the material’s potential for transparency mirrors institutional disclosure – is not only shallow, it is perceptually and functionally paradoxical.
schmidt hammer lassen architects have banded the structure, which is situated near the North Sea coast, with a set of artificial beach-like dunes from which the aforementioned towers bloom. Obscuring public visibility from the street, the dunes attempt to blend the site into its natural surroundings, yet the mounds should really be seen as a form of military camouflage, or in the words of the project’s landscape architects of record, SLA, it is the ‘world’s most advanced’ use of landscaping as a deterrent against car bombs and other forms of attack.
Buried beyond this first perimeter, a foreboding yet masked, reinforced concrete rampart rings the compound, while a reflecting pool is layered just after. In order to actually eye the court’s activities, the general public must file for a visitor pass in advance, then walk through a checkpoint and present ID, before passing through an airport-like security feature. Following such movements, visitors move over a small bridge-like walkway that spans the pool, and enter a plaza cut-off from the city entirely before heading into the actual court area. In effect such planning transforms the office towers into ostensible medieval castle keeps—bastions of besieged justice at times of aggravated international terrorism perhaps?
Once inside the protected area, more contradictions abound. The highly reflective nature of the cladding of the façade renders a more or less opaque surface, while several glass gates throughout the court’s halls present barriers that are as invisible as they are real. They greatly complicate the idea that literal transparency reifies universal access. In addition, a byzantine network of tunnels and corridors segregate the accused from witnesses, and judges from everyone else. In addition to the entry procedures, such policing is extended to a designated ‘protest’ area that is actually a corral situated outside the walls and to the side of the site. While normally the various sections of court bureaucracy are referred to as ‘chambers’, ICC nomenclature refers to these as ‘divisions’ instead. This designation seems to bespeak the structure’s true parti: control.
Each of the towers themselves house different court functions respectively. The prosecution resides in their own spire, as do the judges, the archives, and the courtrooms themselves; not surprisingly these separations afford an information barrier curtailing communication between some departments. Interspersed between each of these towers are the various circulatory circuits as well as a series of gardens.
As a gesture to the court’s internationalism, each of the gardens represent constituents; there is a pantomimed ‘African’ setting of desert brush, a monastic-like ‘Asian’ meditation garden, a ‘Western’ planting with local trees, and oddly, a plot for Eastern Europe. Although each differs in plan, pains were taken so that each covered the same volume as an overture toward cultural equality. Nevertheless, privilege and patrimony still creep in. Situated nearest to the canteen, the garden signifying the ‘West’ functions as an ostensible outdoor café and is one of the few spots in which personnel – excluding the judges – collectively mingle under shade and away from their desks. Pride of place is also given to the three courtrooms, which are stacked, one on top of the next, within the central and tallest tower.
Resembling something in-between an assembly and a closed-set TV studio, each of the courtrooms are furnished as neutral beige boxes bathed in the soothing natural light afforded by the glass skin. Visitors are allowed to watch court proceedings from a viewing balcony; however, a glass wall separates them for security purposes, and likewise isolates the court sonically as well as physically. So as to protect witnesses, only the judges, clerks, and legal councils are seated within full view of the live public audience, as testimony is given from a bench situated below the viewing balcony’s tier. Under direction, a broadcast feed is sent to monitors placed within the public seating area, and it is only here that a witness’ actions can be seen by the visitors – the image can be distorted to preserve anonymity, and often is. Sound is equally controlled and can only be accessed through headphones provided within the balcony replete with voice-distorting features when required. If a judge deems it necessary, the audio can be shut entirely.
The façade of the central tower supports a set of vines; like the gardens and the rolling dunes out front, the appeal to nature is an attempt to heighten a sense of ‘openness’ and comfort through welcoming greenery. Although sustainable design might promote an idea of ecological rationalism and peace of mind, it doesn’t easily advance notions of due process nor does it mitigate the security features. While the warmness of the site’s flora lends a friendly visage to the strict confines and promotes a feeling of calmness in spite of the seriousness of the proceedings, the combination with glass also is reminiscent of greenhouses – nurturing incubators.
Keeping in mind that the court’s jurisdiction is granted by an international treaty of member states, it is also limited to the orbits of those nations, which ratified the agreement: The United States, China, India, Indonesia, Turkey, Pakistan, Israel, Saudi Arabia and others are not bound by the court and as such, war criminals and other human rights violators from these territories, totaling a vast majority of the world’s population and several of its offences, are beyond the court’s reach. While this state of affairs vastly undermines the ICC’s authority, and has led to accusations of bias by the African Union – led by Sudanese president Omar al-Bashir and Kenya’s president Uhuru Kenyatta, who have been charged by the ICC – the noble optimist could make the argument that there is still ample room to grow.