Prosecuting Putin will take years, but it’s possible—Wayne Jordash explains how

2 July 2025, 04:30 PM

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Demian Shevko:
You’ve spent years working in some of the world’s most complex legal and human rights environments. What first motivated you to pursue a career in international humanitarian and human rights law?

Wayne Jordash: Honestly, it was the desire to see the world in all its complexity—its virtues and its flaws. Working in international criminal law gives you a front-row seat to both.

Yes, you travel extensively, but more importantly, you witness the best and worst of human nature—and everything in between. I’ve always found that gray area especially fascinating.

As I’ve grown professionally in the human rights field, I’ve also developed a deeper sense of personal responsibility. I believe individuals have an obligation to try to improve the world, even in small ways. You don’t need to make grand gestures; sometimes it’s enough to avoid contributing to the worsening of things. That’s what drew me to this line of work—trying, at the very least, to do some good.

Demian Shevko:
You’ve worked in countries across the globe. For the past few years, you've been involved in Ukraine. How does Ukraine compare to other places you’ve worked—like Afghanistan, Chad, or Sierra Leone? Is there something that makes Ukraine particularly distinct?

Wayne Jordash KC:
Every country, every conflict, has its own context. The cultural and political dynamics are always different. But the suffering is remarkably similar.

Whether it’s civilians in a Sierra Leonean village burned down by rebels, women being stoned in Afghanistan, or Ukrainian families losing their homes and children to missile strikes—the grief and trauma are the same.

I think it’s a mistake to focus too heavily on a place’s uniqueness. What’s more important is recognizing the common humanity in these experiences. The pain of losing a child is no less devastating in Ukraine than it is anywhere else.

Demian Shevko:
Your organization, Global Rights Compliance Foundation, plays a key role in the Atrocity Crimes Advisory Group. Could you explain the mission of this group and how it collaborates with Ukrainian authorities?

Wayne Jordash KC:
Yes, this group was established at my suggestion shortly after the full-scale invasion began. I was in contact with officials from the U.K., the EU, and the U.S., and I argued that Ukraine needed a structured mechanism to manage incoming support. Otherwise, dozens of organizations would flood in—well-meaning, but disorganized—leading to procedural errors, retraumatization of victims, duplicated efforts, and general chaos in an already volatile environment.

That kind of breakdown is common in conflict zones when international actors rush in without coordination. So we proposed a framework to bring multiple organizations together under a common mandate to support Ukraine’s Office of the Prosecutor General in investigating and prosecuting atrocity crimes.

Our mandate—backed by the EU, U.S., and U.K.—is not to investigate or prosecute ourselves, but to provide technical and operational support to those who do: the prosecutors, the National Police of Ukraine (NPU), and the Security Service of Ukraine (SBU).

Global Rights Compliance runs mobile teams throughout the regions where about 80% of the war crimes investigations are happening. We’ve also assigned dedicated teams to each of the 10 prosecution subunits responsible for these cases. Our job is to assist with legal assessments, identify investigative gaps, review case files, and evaluate readiness for issuing notices of suspicion. In essence, we provide behind-the-scenes support to help prosecutors build strong, legally sound cases. But the prosecution leads the process—our role is purely supportive.

Demian Shevko:
Just recently, Ukraine and the Council of Europe signed an agreement to establish a tribunal to investigate Russian war crimes. This comes after years of debate on how such a court should be structured. How do you assess this model? Is it, in your view, the right path to justice?

Wayne Jordash KC:
This tribunal is ultimately a political compromise. It establishes what is essentially a regional court, based on an agreement between Ukraine and the Council of Europe.

What Ukraine had hoped for—and understandably so—was a fully international tribunal, endorsed by a broad coalition of UN member states. Only such a court would have had the legal authority to pierce the immunity of senior Russian officials like President Putin, Foreign Minister Lavrov, and the Prime Minister. Under international law, only a genuinely international tribunal can prosecute sitting heads of state and top officials.

Instead, we now have a regional tribunal, supported by about 54 countries. That’s a meaningful number, but not enough to make it a truly international court in legal terms. Much will depend on how the judges interpret their mandate—and that remains to be seen.

Still, I’d say this model reflects the principle of not letting the perfect be the enemy of the good. It’s the most that could realistically be achieved under the current political conditions. And it matters—symbolically and practically. If this kind of aggression isn’t met with a tribunal, then when would it be?

Of course, there's a long road ahead. Historically, both international and regional tribunals have often underperformed. But we’ll see. As the saying goes, the jury is still out.

Demian Shevko:
How would you assess the evolution of Ukraine’s legal and bureaucratic systems in response to the war? How well have they adapted to the current situation?

Wayne Jordash KC:
My organization, Global Rights Compliance, has been working with Ukrainian prosecutors since 2015. And I have to say, from 2015 until the full-scale invasion in 2022, it was a frustrating experience. Progress was limited, and prosecutors largely showed little interest in pursuing cases related to Crimea or the occupied eastern territories.

Demian Shevko:
You mean Ukrainian courts weren’t actively prosecuting these crimes?

Wayne Jordash KC:
Exactly. Between 2016 and 2022, only two or three war crimes cases were fully prosecuted—that’s it. That low number reflects both the difficulty of gathering evidence and apprehending suspects, and, frankly, a lack of institutional enthusiasm.

All of that changed after the full-scale invasion. Since 2022, we’ve seen a dramatic shift. Prosecutors, the National Police, and the Security Service of Ukraine (SSU) are now deeply committed. It’s a sea change.

In the regions, you’ll find some of the most dedicated prosecutors and investigators working in extremely challenging conditions—often without prior experience in war crimes cases. They’re contending with ongoing conflict, limited resources, and the complexity of international humanitarian law. Yet they’re adapting remarkably quickly.

The system itself is still bureaucratic and often slow, but significant structural reforms have been implemented. For example, Ukraine quickly established 10 regional subunits focused on war crimes. It also set up a dedicated unit for conflict-related sexual violence, which now serves as a model of best practice. There’s also a juvenile division focused specifically on the deportation and indoctrination of Ukrainian children.

Regional prosecutors are now actively building cases against senior Russian commanders operating in their areas. So while the system remains cumbersome, it’s being navigated by hardworking, innovative individuals who are making real progress—despite the odds.

Demian Shevko:
In that context, what does the documentation chain currently look like—from frontline incidents to prosecution? How is that process structured?

Wayne Jordash KC:
In war crimes investigations, the process always begins at the ground level. You have to establish what happened: which unit or individual committed the crime—whether it’s torture in a basement, the rape of a civilian, or a missile strike on a non-military target.

This stage takes time because identifying individual incidents isn’t enough. You need to demonstrate patterns of behavior. These patterns are crucial for building cases that link crimes to higher-level commanders.

There’s a common misconception that top commanders sit around issuing direct orders to commit war crimes. That’s rarely how it works. More often, they set military objectives that knowingly lead to criminal acts. They issue orders fully aware of the consequences—and do nothing to prevent or punish those acts. That’s how you establish criminal knowledge and intent at the command level.

For the first two or three years of the war, Ukrainian prosecutors have focused on documenting these patterns—building the foundation. Now, they’re starting to move up the chain of command, developing cases against senior officers operating in specific regions.

The next phase will involve national-level cases that span multiple regions. Those cases will be necessary to establish the responsibility of top figures like Putin, Gerasimov, and Shoigu.

This is a long-term process. International tribunals typically take many years to investigate and prosecute these kinds of crimes. In Ukraine’s case, with limited resources and an ongoing war, moving from frontline documentation to indictments against senior leaders will understandably take time.

Demian Shevko:
Russia is a permanent member of the UN Security Council and holds seats on numerous international bodies. From your perspective, has Russia ever tried to obstruct war crimes investigations? How does it leverage its international presence and influence?

Wayne Jordash KC:
Absolutely. The most prominent method Russia uses is through misinformation and disinformation. This is their most comprehensive and effective tool to undermine investigations and prosecutions.

They promote several false narratives: that they don’t commit war crimes, that they only target military objectives, that any evidence to the contrary is fabricated, or that these are Ukrainian setups. You see this messaging everywhere—from the UN Security Council and General Assembly to mainstream media and Telegram channels.

Second, as a permanent member of the Security Council, Russia can veto initiatives such as the creation of an international tribunal for the crime of aggression. It also pressures other states in the General Assembly or Security Council to oppose such efforts. That’s part of why we ended up with a regional tribunal rather than a fully international one.

So yes, Russia plays a very strategic game, using its institutional power and information operations to construct a false narrative—one that seeks to portray its actions in Ukraine as both justified and lawful. Neither is true.

Demian Shevko:
In that false narrative, Russia also conducts sham trials against Ukrainian POWs, including Marines and Azov brigade soldiers. Can the Russian judges and officials involved in these trials be held accountable under international law?

Wayne Jordash KC:
They absolutely can—and should be.

People often overlook that Common Article 3 of the Geneva Conventions lays out the minimum standards for the treatment of individuals in armed conflict. This includes the right to a fair trial and a prohibition against arbitrary detention or punishment without due process.

Russian judges, prosecutors, and officials from the federal penitentiary system are all complicit in violating these standards. By knowingly designing and conducting trials based on evidence obtained through torture—or by punishing Ukrainian soldiers and civilians for crimes they clearly did not commit—they are directly implicated in war crimes.

These aren’t complex legal thresholds. They’re the most basic principles of international humanitarian law. And Russia is systematically violating them.

Demian Shevko:
Is there a specific unit within Ukraine’s legal system that’s investigating these sham trials?

Wayne Jordash KC:
Yes, the Security Service of Ukraine (SBU) is primarily leading those investigations, in coordination with the Office of the Prosecutor General. The SSU is handling many of the cases related to the treatment of prisoners of war, and these fraudulent trials are a key part of that abuse. So yes—they are being actively investigated.

Demian Shevko:
I’d like to ask about a different category of cases—perhaps you're familiar with them.

Several Russian soldiers who allegedly took part in war crimes have fled the Russian army and are now seeking asylum in Europe. To my knowledge, three of these cases have been public.

One is Andrei Medvedev, a former Wagner commander who fled to Norway. Another is Pavel Filatov, a Russian paratrooper who fled to France and even published a book. The most notorious might be Igor Salikov, a former Russian intelligence colonel who publicly admitted to ordering artillery strikes that killed hundreds of Ukrainian soldiers.

These men have given interviews, and now they're asking for protection in Europe. In some cases, they appear to be using asylum as a way to evade accountability. And we don’t know how many more similar cases remain unreported.

In your view, should these individuals be prosecuted or extradited to Ukraine? How should host countries handle such situations?

Wayne Jordash KC:
I’m vaguely familiar with these cases through media coverage, but I haven't reviewed them in detail. That said, it does surprise me that any country would grant asylum to individuals who have publicly admitted to war crimes—or are credibly suspected of committing them.

Most European countries, including France and Norway, have domestic laws enabling them to investigate and prosecute foreign nationals for war crimes committed abroad. These laws have been used before. France has pursued cases related to the Rwandan genocide, and the Netherlands has prosecuted individuals involved in crimes in Syria, for instance.

So if there is credible evidence—especially in cases where individuals have made confessions—then these governments not only have the authority but the legal obligation under international law to investigate and, where appropriate, prosecute.

War crimes fall under the principle of universal jurisdiction. That means states have a duty to act, regardless of where the crimes were committed or the nationality of the perpetrators. If these governments are not pursuing investigations, that raises serious concerns.

Ultimately, the first step is to review the evidence carefully. But if that evidence is there, then national authorities must follow through in accordance with both their domestic legal frameworks and international obligations.

Demian Shevko: Given the position you're in—and the extraordinarily difficult work you do—is there anything that gives you hope? Do you see a light at the end of the tunnel, either for Ukraine or globally, when it comes to justice and accountability for atrocity crimes?

Wayne Jordash KC:
That’s a tough question. Because, to be honest, things do look bleak. We’re living through an era dominated by authoritarian leaders and escalating human rights violations.

But there’s another side to this moment that we shouldn’t overlook: we’re also living through a global wave of civilian mobilization.

Look at Ukraine. Since 2014—and especially since 2022—Ukrainian civil society has stood up against a brutal, rights-violating aggressor. That resistance has been nothing short of remarkable.

And it’s not just Ukraine. Look at the protests in Serbia against Vučić, another ally of Putin. In Hungary as well. Across the world, wherever authoritarianism rises, you see civilians pushing back—people fighting for their rights and demanding accountability.

That’s where my optimism comes from. Human rights work is fundamentally about supporting those societies—helping them resist, rebuild, and ultimately overcome repression.

And they will win. The question is not whether justice prevails, but how much damage is inflicted in the meantime—how many lives are shattered, how deeply the rule of law is undermined before we reach that point.

We are, I believe, facing a generational struggle. But we will win. It’s just a matter of how long it takes—and how high the cost will be.

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