On July 23, 2025, something extraordinary happened in The Hague. Inside the Peace Palace, home to the International Court of Justice, the world’s highest judges delivered a decision that may reshape the future of life on Earth.
Their message was clear: countries have a legal duty to fight climate change—and those who fail to do so can be held accountable.
It was not a lawsuit filed by powerful nations or billion-dollar corporations. This legal revolution was sparked by the world’s most vulnerable: small island states like Vanuatu, Tuvalu, and Antigua and Barbuda—places where rising seas have already swallowed homes, poisoned fresh water, and left families wondering whether their country will still exist by the end of the century.
In Vanuatu’s capital, Port Vila, children no longer play football on parts of the coastline where they used to, because saltwater has seeped into the grass fields, turning them into marshes.
In Kiribati, families build makeshift seawalls from old car tires and broken furniture to slow down the sea.
In Fiji, government officials have drafted relocation plans for entire villages—communities that will have to move uphill or inland as their ancestral lands vanish.
Desperate and determined, these nations asked the Court a deceptively simple question: under international law, what exactly are countries required to do to stop climate change? And what are the consequences if they don’t?
The ICJ answered, unanimously and unequivocally: protecting the climate is a binding legal obligation—not a policy preference or a diplomatic favor, but a responsibility grounded in international law, human rights, and science.
The Court found that “climate change is a real and present threat to the enjoyment of human rights.” It concluded that “the adverse effects of climate change… threaten the enjoyment of the right to life and the right to an adequate standard of living, including the rights to adequate food, water, housing and health.”
The judges didn’t shy away from science either. Referring to the latest IPCC reports, the Court confirmed that “human activities have unequivocally caused global warming,” pushing temperatures 1.1°C above pre-industrial levels and placing over 3.6 billion people at high risk of devastating impacts.
These impacts are already visible—and painful—in Rwanda.
In Nyagatare District, a dry region in Rwanda’s Eastern Province, farmers speak of a land betrayed by the skies. “The seasons no longer follow the rhythm of our ancestors,” said Jean-Marie, a maize farmer from Karangazi. “You plant seeds, and then wait for rains that never come. Or they come all at once and wash away everything.”
He’s part of a growing community forced to adjust to shorter planting windows, failed harvests, and costly irrigation.
In May 2023, Rwanda experienced one of its worst climate disasters. Heavy rains in the Western Province caused deadly floods and landslides that killed over 130 people and displaced thousands.
The government has since built new homes for hundreds and resettled them in safer zones.
A mother from Rubavu, still rebuilding her home, said, “We buried entire families. Roads were gone. Fields were submerged. It was the sky’s punishment, but it was not our fault.”
These lived experiences reinforce the Court’s core argument—that the climate crisis is “an existential problem of planetary proportions that imperils all forms of life and the very health of our planet.”
But Rwanda is not only suffering. It is also acting.
The Court emphasized that “all States have the obligation to take all necessary measures to ensure that activities within their jurisdiction or control do not cause significant damage to the environment of other States or of areas beyond national jurisdiction.” This is no longer just an environmental ideal—it is now a standard of international law.
Rwanda has been among Africa’s most proactive countries in climate adaptation and mitigation. In 2021, it submitted one of the continent’s most ambitious climate pledges: to cut greenhouse gas emissions by 38 percent by 2030.
Kigali, the capital, has banned plastic bags, introduced a car-free zone downtown, and invested in cycling infrastructure.
The country is betting big on electric motorcycles and buses—offering tax incentives and pilot projects across the transport sector.
On the slopes of Gicumbi District, a project supported by the Green Climate Fund is helping farmers adopt terracing, agroforestry, and irrigation tanks to withstand erratic rainfall. “We now plant trees that help bind the soil, and water tanks that save us during dry months,” said a farmer named Alphonsine. “We are learning how to fight the climate without fighting nature.”
At Lake Kivu, Rwanda is turning danger into opportunity. Methane gas trapped beneath the lake—potentially deadly if released—is now being extracted safely and turned into electricity.
The effort not only contributes to national energy goals but also prevents a future natural catastrophe.
The ICJ ruling requires nations to meet a “stringent” standard of due diligence. This means using all available means to reduce emissions and protect people, updating national climate plans to reflect “the highest possible ambition,” and ensuring those plans actually help limit global warming to 1.5°C.
Rwanda’s NDC revision aligns with these principles.
The judges also clarified that “States that fail to meet their obligations… incur responsibility under international law.”
Such failures may require reparations—restoring damaged ecosystems, compensating for climate-related losses, or issuing formal apologies. Because these duties are owed “to the international community as a whole,” any country—not just the victims—can demand accountability.
This strengthens the hand of vulnerable countries like Rwanda, whose per capita emissions are minimal but whose climate exposure is severe.
The Court also acknowledged unequal responsibility. “Developed countries have contributed the most to climate change and must therefore take the lead in addressing it.”
The principle of “common but differentiated responsibilities” requires equity: while every country must act, the weight of that responsibility must fall where the damage originated.
In Bangladesh’s river delta, where schools float on rising waters, or in Rwanda’s tea-growing hills where landslides now kill more than they nurture, this ruling is more than a legal landmark—it is a moral victory.
It affirms that the suffering of the poorest is not just unfortunate collateral damage, but a breach of global justice.
As one island representative said outside the court: “The water may keep rising. But now, so does the law.”
The ICJ closed its opinion with a sobering truth. “Above all… a lasting and satisfactory solution requires human will and wisdom—at the individual, social and political levels—to change our habits, comforts and current way of life in order to secure a future for ourselves and those who are yet to come.”
Now that the law has spoken, it is up to the world—including Rwanda and the nations that have long powered industrial emissions—to follow its call.
