Author: Aman Sen, KIIT Law School, KIIT DU, Bhubaneswar, Odisha

It all began with ruins, with silence, and with the echo of nearly six million innocent Jews who never got to speak.

The Nuremberg Trials opened in late 1945, when the world was still feeling the aftereffects from the war that scarred every continent and every soul it touched. What followed in this courtroom would later shape international law for generations to come. However, the trial did not conclude without leaving behind numerous big questions, doubts, and a fair amount of controversy.

Were the Nuremberg trials a moral reckoning? Or were they history’s grandest stage for victor’s justice?

Let’s peek upon this courtroom, not as historians, not as lawyers, but as people asking: was this justice… or just politics in robes?

The whole world was still in shock, it had never seen anything quite like Nazi Germany's crimes. Close to Six million Jews lost their lives. Millions of others dissidents, minorities, and civilians were erased. Something had to be done. Someone had to take responsibility.

The Allied powers, the United States, Britain, the Soviet Union, and France, chose to respond not with firing squads, but with trials that would go on to become one of the most important trials in human history. A courtroom over chaos, law over revenge.

The trials began in the city of  Nuremberg, a city that once echoed with Nazi chants and held Nazi rallies. This symbolism was intentional by the Allied Powers and so was the structure. 24 men, once among the world’s most feared, now sat behind glass, facing judges from the very nations they had once waged war against.

They were charged with crimes against peace, war crimes, and crimes against humanity. But beneath the surface of order, the cracks in the legal foundation began to show.

Here’s where it gets tricky.

Most of what the Nazis did wasn’t illegal under international law at the time. So how could they be punished for it?

This is where critics raise the ex post facto alarm, punishing someone for something that wasn’t technically a crime when they did it. While no decent person in this world would argue that genocide is "okay,". But the law demands clarity. You can’t be arrested today for something that becomes illegal tomorrow.

The tribunal insisted these crimes were so outrageous, so against humanity, that their criminality was self-evident. But that’s a philosophical argument, not a legal one. And in law, that matters.

Another issue was the concept of victor’s justice.

Germany’s top brass was on trial. But what about Allied bombings that killed civilians? What about the Soviet Union’s own war crimes?

None of those were on the table. That one-sidedness made people uncomfortable. Still does.

It’s hard to ignore that the very people judging the Nazis had, in some cases, blood on their own hands. When one side writes the rules and also enforces them, neutrality gets murky.

Many of the accused leaned on one common defence: I was just following orders.

It’s a valid argument, a powerful one. The soldiers follow orders; the bureaucrats are bound by the system. So, what choice did they have?

However, the tribunal was not at all convinced. It categorically held that individuals have moral agency, that “I was told to”  & “I had no choice” isn’t good enough of a defence when what you’re doing is clearly, horribly wrong.

This changed the legal landscape forever. Suddenly, people could be held responsible for doing things in an official manner, not only just nations or systems. And that now mattered.

The trials brought together different legal systems - American, British, French, Soviet. Judges spoke different languages. Proceedings required instant translation and IBM actually helped make that possible.

Yet even with the best intentions, the whole process felt uneven. Some saw it as justice done quickly, not carefully. Others believed it was justice made just enough to look legitimate.

Yes, defendants had lawyers. Yes, there was evidence. But the outcome, at least for many, felt predetermined.

Here’s a thought experiment: what if the world had taken a different route?

Some proposed summary executions. Quick and brutal. Others suggested truth and reconciliation commissions like those later seen in South Africa with less punishment and more healing.

And then there’s the model of hybrid courts, mixing international and local law. Or domestic prosecutions, where German courts themselves would’ve tried these criminals, though the political climate made that unlikely at the time.

There were no perfect options. But the Nuremberg model wasn’t the only one on the table.

Despite flaws, the Nuremberg Trials left behind a lasting legacy that shaped the world forever.

They introduced individual accountability at the global level. They carved out definitions for crimes against humanity. They lit the path for the creation of the International Criminal Court (ICC). They told future war criminals that the world is always watching.

Still, the trials weren’t perfect. They feel rushed, politically charged and legally grey in many parts.

But they were, for many, the best attempt the post-war world could make to say: “This is not okay. And we must never allow it again.”

So where do we land?

The Nuremberg Trials were groundbreaking. They were bold. They were messy. And they were necessary, but not above the criticism.

If we look back and say they were only victor’s justice, we ignore the moral power of holding tyrants accountable. If we say they were pure justice, we ignore the political fingerprints all over them.

The truth lies somewhere in between.

And perhaps, that’s the most human outcome of all.

Justice isn’t always perfect. But sometimes, even imperfect justice is better than silence.