Having grown up in Erzurum, a city that was once a crucial stronghold against Russian advances on the Caucasian front of the Russo-Turkish war, I am acutely aware of how history leaves imprints on places and people. The wars of the past are not mere chapters in books; they shape the identities of nations and the foundations of political institutions. The Russo-Turkish War of 1877-1878 was a prime example of this. This war was not only a turning point in governance and diplomacy for the Ottoman Empire – giving birth to the first constitutional monarchy and Ottoman Basic Law – it also shaped the life of famed pacifist activist Bertha von Suttner.

What has Bertha von Suttner got to do with it?

It was in the same Caucasus, during that very war between the Russians and the Turks, that Bertha von Suttner witnessed the horrors of conflict, an experience that would shape her lifelong commitment to pacifism. A baroness by birth but a revolutionary in thought, she was the first woman to be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. She was a leading figure in the early 20th-century peace movement, and she resisted with ‘feminine practices’. Her seminal work, Lay Down Your Arms!, not only condemned the glorification of war, but also inspired the Russian Tsar Nicholas II to convene the First Hague Peace Conference in 1899. Von Suttner's tireless advocacy led her to Andrew Carnegie and secured his support for the Peace Palace, which today houses the International Court of Justice, the Permanent Court of Arbitration, and other institutions dedicated to upholding international law.

The City of Peace

Now, as I walk through The Hague, the city that I temporarily call home, and which has become synonymous with international peace and justice, I cannot help but reflect on how history and geography are intertwined. Living here, in the very place where Von Suttner’s vision materialised, reinforces the undeniable truth that peace is not merely the absence of war; it is the presence of justice. Yet peace, like justice, remains an elusive and deeply gendered concept.

Men make war

War has long been the business of men. Although today we see both men and women fighting, for example in Ukraine, the structures of war – from ancient battlefields to modern military-industrial complexes – have been shaped by ideals that emphasise aggression, dominance, and strategic brutality, qualities historically associated with masculinity. Military institutions cultivate hyper-masculine traits, while diplomacy and negotiation, often labelled ‘soft’ and ‘feminine’, are sidelined. The military-industrial complex, which dictates defence policy and arms production, is overwhelmingly controlled by men and shapes the world’s conflicts through a patriarchal lens. The political, economic, and social architectures of war have ensured that masculinity dictates both its conduct and its consequences. This gendered nature of conflict raises a critical question: if war is built on masculine ideals, could peace be inherently feminine?

Women make peace

If peacebuilding is seen as naive and feminine, then perhaps it should be entrusted to women. Studies show that when women participate in peace negotiations, the likelihood of an agreement lasting at least two years increases by 20%, and the likelihood of it lasting 15 years increases by 35%. Women’s leadership in peace processes prioritises inclusivity, reconciliation, and long-term stability, in stark contrast to the short-term, power-driven approaches typical of militarised diplomacy. In recognition of this, UN Security Council Resolution 1325 formally calls for the inclusion of women in peace and security efforts. Yet, their representation remains minimal. Despite empirical evidence of the effectiveness of women-led peacebuilding, they are often relegated to the margins of formal negotiations.

Dismantling gender hierarchies of war

Pieter Kooijmans, former professor of Public International Law at Leiden University and former judge at the International Court of Justice, once asked the sculptor Ingrid Rollema, who was making the statue of Bertha von Suttner’s for the Peace Palace, ‘What kind of woman would she have been today?’ The answer might be that she would still be fighting, not only against war but also against the structures that exclude women from building peace. Sustainable peace requires more than the cessation of violence; it requires dismantling the deeply-rooted gender hierarchies of war and ensuring that those most affected by conflict have a voice in its resolution.

Bringing women to the forefront

Peace is neither naive nor feminine. But if it is dismissed as such, it is all the more reason for it to be led by women. Not because peace is ‘weak’, but because it is necessary, and because those who have long been excluded from shaping it must finally take their rightful place at the table. At a time when war is glorified, international law and justice need women.