Starting from the middle of the nineteenth century, the principles governing the processing of corpses and the accounting of those deceased on the battlefield were inscribed in military codes. The military and civil authorities carried out the official collection and recording of the effects of the dead: the bodies were to be searched for, identified, and protected from plundering and ill treatment. In Europe and in the United States, tombs were constructed containing non-identified remains under the name of “unknown soldiers”. Gradually, intelligence services and resources were mobilized to ensure as far as possible an individualized processing of the bodies of those killed in war. These procedures were extended little by little to civilian victims. Today in the Balkans, or in Argentina, pits are being opened, human remains are exhumed, and anthropologists and physicians examine bodies, remains and bones in order to establish the identity of the dead and the circumstances of the death. In this regard, the tombs of unknown soldiers are likely to be replaced by monuments to the memory of non-identified civilian victims of war.

There is a persistent belief in the power of media images to transform the events they depict. Yet despite the instant availability of billions of images of human suffering and death in the continuous and connective digital glare of social media, the catastrophes of contemporary wars, such as in Syria and Yemen, unfold relentlessly. There are repeated expressions of surprise by some in the West when the dissemination of images of suffering and wars, particularly in mainstream news media, does not translate into a de-escalation of conflict.

In this article I consider today's loosening of the often presumed relationship between media representation, knowledge and response under the conditions of “digital war”. This is the digital disruption of the relationship between warfare and society in which all sides participate in the uploading and sharing of information on, and images and videos of, conflict.

Is it the case that the capacity of images of human injury and death to bring about change, and the expectation that they would stir practical intervention in wars, is and has been exaggerated? Even if we are moved or shocked upon being confronted by such images, does this translate into some form of action, individual or otherwise? In this article I contend that the saturation of information and images of human suffering and death in contemporary warfare has not ushered in a new era of “compassion fatigue”. Rather, algorithmically charged outrage is a proxy for effects. It is easy to misconstrue the velocity of linking and liking and sharing as some kind of mass action or mass movement.

Humanitarian catastrophes slowly unfold in an age of continuous and connective digital glare, and yet they are unseen. If the imploded battlefield of digital war affording the most proximate and persistent view of human suffering and death in history cannot ultimately mobilize radically effective forms of public response, it is difficult to imagine what will.

At the end of 2008, the number of people internally displaced by conflict, generalized violence or human rights violations across the world stood at 26 million, a record high since the IDMC started to monitor internal displacement in 1998. This high figure remains in spite of the growing recognition and implementation of the Guiding Principles on Internal Displacement. This article presents the findings of the latest IDMC survey on trends in internal displacement, challenges faced by displaced populations, and the measures taken to address these.

This article assesses the causes of the crisis of detention in Latin America. It is argued that this crisis, which manifests itself in overpopulation of the region's prison systems, deficient infrastructure, prison informality and violence propelled ultimately by political processes, is mostly related to, on the one hand, disastrous human rights conditions inside Latin American prisons, and on other, the political denial of these conditions. This denial produces a state of institutional abandonment that is preserved by the interests of politicians and bureaucrats, who are engaged in denying prison violence and human rights abuses while simultaneously calling for more punishment and imprisonment.

• International humanitarian law cannot serve as a basis for armed intervention in response to grave violations of its provisions; the use of force is governed by the United Nations Charter.

• It is not for the ICRC to pronounce on the legality or legitimacy of such intervention.

• International humanitarian law applies when intervention forces are engaged in hostilities with one or more of the parties to the conflict.

• The ICRC seeks to promote the term “armed intervention in response to grave violations of human rights and of international humanitarian law”.

Little attention is paid to the obligation of ‘care’ in Article 55(1) of Additional Protocol I. Beyond a general principle of upholding environmental value in times of armed conflict, what is the scope and content of the obligation? If it is worthless, what makes it so? Since the care provision includes the same high threshold of harm found elsewhere in the environmental provisions, has this stumbling block now been removed by state practice? Rule 44 of the Customary Law Study might appear to suggest that this is so, or does it? Ultimately then, is the care obligation worth caring about?

“What is an ICRC delegate?” Here, in a sentence, is the focus of this article. Going through the in-house perception, which highlights the extraordinary and singular nature of this humanitarian player, and through the view of the public, which oscillates between the missionary of humanity and the mere holder of a temporary job, the authors attempt to give the reader the key to unveil and discover this peculiar profession.

The risks of the use of nuclear, radiological, biological or chemical (NRBC) weapons are heterogeneous. Each risk has its own implications for developing and deploying any capacity to assist victims of an NRBC event and, in parallel, for the health and security of the people bringing this assistance. At an international level, there are no plans for assisting the victims of an NRBC event which are both adequate and safe. Recognizing the realities of the contexts associated with each risk throws up numerous challenges; such recognition is also a prerequisite for addressing these challenges. The realities that have to be considered relate to:

1. 1. developing, acquiring, training for and planning an NRBC response capacity;

2. 2. deploying a response capacity in an NRBC event;

3. 3. the mandates and policies of international organizations pertaining to NRBC events.

The challenges that will pose the greatest difficulty for a humanitarian organization are those for which the solutions are ‘non-buyable’ and which involve making extremely difficult decisions. Attempting to assist victims of an NRBC event without a reality-based approach might generate ineffective and unacceptably dangerous situations for those involved.

The Responsibility to Protect is being touted as a new approach to protecting populations from mass atrocities. Certainly it would be encouraging to believe that an end to genocides, large scale ethnic cleansing and large scale loss of life were within humanity's reach. However, whilst the holistic approach of the doctrine is to be commended, the legality of the proposal requires further analysis. This paper specifically addresses the evolution of the legality of humanitarian intervention and looks at whether the Responsibility to Protect doctrine advances the legality of the use of force for humanitarian ends.

The Libyan crisis of 2011 has again raised the crucial problem of the choice of means in protecting civilians. Authorized by the international community as part of military operations in Libya, the use of force in protecting civilians has revived the concept of ‘humanitarian war’ and has raised a number of issues for humanitarian organizations, in particular concerning the notion of neutral, impartial, and independent humanitarian action.1 The article focuses on these humanitarian issues and, inter alia, on the possible impact on humanitarian action of the concept of the Responsibility to Protect (R2P), which was at the basis of the intervention in Libya.

The trauma of coming face to face with the horrors of a battlefield and witnessing first-hand the abandonment of the war-wounded led Henry Dunant to two ingenious concepts: the creation of permanent volunteer relief societies and the adoption of a treaty to protect wounded soldiers and all who endeavour to come to their aid. On the initiative of Gustave Moynier, a committee was established in Geneva to implement Dunant's proposals. That committee – which soon took the name ‘International Committee of the Red Cross’ (ICRC) – convened two international conferences, the first of which laid the foundation for the future relief societies while the second adopted the initial Geneva Convention. This article considers the circumstances that led to the founding of the ICRC and then to that of the International Red Cross and Red Crescent Movement, starting with Solferino and culminating in the adoption of the Geneva Convention.

It has rightly been said that the International Red Cross and Red Crescent Movement does not stand for any specific philosophy or moral doctrine. Neither the fundamental principles nor international humanitarian law (IHL) provide a methodical interpretation of human nature or an inventory of the moral rights and obligations of the Movement's members. The Movement adheres to no particular ideology or political system. On the contrary, its universality enables it, with varying degrees of success, to adapt to or even influence various political regimes or tendencies in order to promote humanitarian aims. This ability can be attributed in particular to its respect for the principle of neutrality.

Si la population civile est trop souvent la cible principale des hostilités, notamment lors des conflits armés non internationaux, les femmes, elles, sont régulièrement les victimes les plus durement affectées. Les traités de droit international humanitaire contiennent des dispositions spéciales destinées à protéger les femmes dans la guerre, en particulier contre les actes de violence sexuelle. L'auteur de cet article élargit le débat pour examiner également la situation de la femme en sa qualité de mère ou de chef de famille, car, lorsque les hommes sont au combat, ce sont les femmes qui assurent la survie de la famille et de la communauté. Les dispositions des Conventions de Genève et de leurs Protocoles additionnels sont passées en revue, tant pour les conflits armés internationaux que non internationaux. Pour conclure, l'auteur donne une information intermédiate sur l'étude y relative, en cours d'élaboration au CICR, à la demande de la XXVIIe Conférence Internationale de la Croix-Rouge et du Croissant-Rouge.

Cash transfers have changed the way the humanitarian sector delivers assistance, and at the same time, digitalization is changing the way our world works in fundamental ways. The digitalization of cash means that the simple click of a button can put money in the hands of hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of people within minutes. Digital payments have been a game changer, opening the door to faster and more efficient delivery of life-saving assistance. Although physical currency will not disappear with the rise of digital payments, it is essential to balance the benefits of these digital processes with the risks. As humanitarians, we need to articulate what “do no harm” means in the digital age, applying this equally to the way we use digital payments to support people affected by armed conflicts and other situations of violence.

In terms of its disruptive impact and intensity of violence, banditry is the gravest security threat that Nigeria currently faces, and it is driving her worst national humanitarian crisis in decades. There are contests about the origin, nature and the drivers of banditry and how well bandits by their modus operandi fit into the various definitional frameworks of an organized criminal group. The article examines what is known about bandits and banditry in light of existing definitional and conceptual paradigms of organized crime and criminal groups, and interrogates the applicability of international humanitarian law to this security crisis that characterizes the current face of conflict in the West African Sahel.

Transitional justice is a conspicuous feature of responses to mass atrocities. Rooted in accountability and redress for victims, transitional justice mechanisms influence and are influenced by collective memory of conflicts. This article looks at the dynamics between memory, trauma and forgiveness in Cambodia. Thirty years after the Khmer Rouge regime, Cambodians expressed limited knowledge of the past, a strong desire for the truth, and lingering feelings of hatred. The Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia (ECCC) created or renewed demand for truth, along with some desire for harm to come to the wrongdoers. Although the ECCC was set up several decades after the mass atrocities, the data suggest that the ECCC and the civil society movement associated with it may have had positive outcomes on addressing the legacy of the violence.

Three main arguments may explain why few cases in international (and national) criminal law include charges for attacks against civilians or civilian objects. The law may be not sufficiently clear, there may be a lack of evidence or the selection of military targets may be based on mainly subjective considerations, which make it very hard to establish individual culpability. This article examines some legal and practical reasons for the difficulties the prosecutor faces when trying to charge individuals with such crimes. Although there are few examples, the ICTY has shown that it is generally possible to hold individuals responsible for such crimes.

Attacks on health workers, clinics, hospitals, ambulances and patients during periods of armed conflict or civil disturbance pose enormous challenges to humanitarian response and constitute affronts to the imperatives of human rights and civilian protection. Violence inflicted on humanitarian aid workers is gaining the global attention it warrants. While the number of attacks on aid workers has decreased in recent years, in a handful of places, notably Sudan, Afghanistan, and Somalia, they have become more spectacular and frightening, with aid agencies targeted for kidnapping and subjected to use of explosives because of their perceived affiliation with Western governments. The assaults have galvanised the humanitarian aid community to track attacks and to engage in intensive and sophisticated discussion of means to increase operational security. After worldwide consultation, in 2011 the United Nations (UN) Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA) issued a report that summarised the fruits of experience and stimulated consideration of security strategies for aid providers. By contrast, however, until very recently the far larger number of incidents of violence inflicted on and interference with indigenous health services and on international and local development agencies by state and armed groups has received comparatively little attention.