Editor’s Note: In this interview, Abhijeet and Garvit from Team JFIEL interview Federico Jarast, an Argentine international legal practitioner and scholar, about his unconventional path in international law—from early aspirations in diplomacy to academia and litigation. Currently an Associate at Guglielmino Derecho Internacional and a lecturer at Universidad de Buenos Aires, he shares insights on global legal scholarship, the influence of geography on legal thought, and the challenges of teaching and practicing international law across different regions.

Abhijeet: Thank you so much for joining us, professor. We are happy to finally get the opportunity to learn more about your life. How did your journey with law begin, and how did you develop a specific interest in international law? Were the two journeys different for you?

Federico: Well, initially, I was set on studying economics during high school, but my involvement in Model United Nations sparked an interest in diplomacy. This led me to a dilemma—whether to study international affairs or law. In Argentina, law offered broader opportunities, so I pursued it with the intention of specializing in international law.

During my international law course, I grew increasingly interested in the field, especially after meeting professors who were also career diplomats in the Argentine Foreign Service. But I realized that the diplomatic career often entailed political dependencies, like being subject to shifts in political leadership or relying on political appointments. This environment felt restrictive and at odds with my aspirations.

Ultimately, I chose to focus on international law as an end in itself rather than as a stepping stone to diplomacy. This decision led me to begin teaching in 2010, which cemented my passion and professional path in international law.

Abhijeet: In this time, you’ve been a farmer, a lawyer, a teacher, and more. How do these roles fit together, and do they influence each other? For example, do you ever think like a lawyer when farming or like a farmer when practicing law?

Federico: Farming wasn’t exactly a choice for me; it was part of my family legacy. Around the time I decided not to pursue diplomacy, I started teaching, researching, and working on the farm simultaneously. The farm provided financial stability while I built my academic and professional career, which at the time wasn’t profitable.

I believe that all aspects of a person’s life shape him/her holistically. For me, being active and curious—constantly seeking to learn and improve—has been a unifying factor across all my roles. Whether it’s farming, litigation, or even my studies in national defense, each experience has taught me valuable skills and perspectives.

Farming, for instance, teaches resourcefulness—making the best of limited resources and solving problems independently. This mindset is invaluable in litigation, where practical, quick decisions with significant consequences are often required. Similarly, my studies in national defense provided a structured, pragmatic approach to tackling challenges, which is crucial for a litigator.

In the long run, these varied experiences converge and enrich one’s perspective, even if they don’t seem connected at first. While pursuing non-mainstream paths might feel uncertain compared to others’ conventional successes, I’ve found that they eventually pay off. These experiences have placed me in a stronger, more versatile position over time.

Abhijeet: What brought you to India, especially considering that Argentina does not typically have many international lawyers coming to India?

Federico: Honestly, I never thought of India as a destination. I’m someone who enjoys life in my home country, and I’m not one to check off travel destinations. At the time, there were very few Argentinians in India, maybe around 300, so it wasn’t a common place for us. My journey began when I was in the U.S. pursuing my LLM. One day, Professor Raj Kumar came to campus to promote Jindal Global University in India and look for prospective people who could join the university. The proposal seemed interesting, so I thought, why not?

I discussed it with a respected human rights professor, Hurst Hannum, who encouraged me to consider the opportunity. He pointed out that as a Latin American, my experience would be unique in India. He convinced me that, as someone who had lived in the U.S. and was from Latin America, I could offer something different. This convinced me to take the leap. Although I had some reservations about leaving the U.S., I regarded it as a unique opportunity, and I ended up in India, where I’ve grown a lot.

Abhijeet: How do you navigate politically sensitive or contested topics in the classroom, especially when teaching in a context like India, coming from Argentina you were not aware of the local political controversies in the country, where even locals often struggle to make sense of developments?

Federico: This challenge isn’t unique to India; it’s universal, including here in Argentina! My approach has always been to try to teach the law objectively and encourage students to draw their own conclusions. I strive to maintain a balance, avoiding a hierarchical “teacher knows best” dynamic. Instead, I view the classroom as a space where we learn from one another through interactive discussions.

While many professors claim objectivity, some guide students toward specific conclusions, often aligned with academic or political agendas. I avoid imposing my views, particularly on sensitive topics. Instead, I aim to present various perspectives, fostering a space for critical thought. I often play the devil’s advocate—not because I believe in a particular stance, but to challenge students to refine their reasoning.

When discussing controversial issues, respect is the bottom line. Differing opinions are welcome, but everyone must listen as much as they speak. The goal is for students to leave with well-reasoned and diverse perspectives, even if those differ from mine or each other’s. Ultimately, I aim to create a classroom where every opinion is valued, and everyone respects the diversity of thought.

Garvit: I find the concept of geography quite fascinating, especially as I’m being introduced to critical approaches to international law. One of the central arguments of these approaches is that international law is shaped by diverse perspectives and literatures from different parts of the world. Given your experiences in Argentina, the U.S., and later in India, you’ve encountered both the Global North and the Global South. I’m curious about your thoughts on how international law is perceived and approached in these different contexts. Could you share your insights?

Abhijeet: Just adding to that, coming from Argentina, did you think of yourself as a Global South scholar?

Federico: I don’t identify with labels like “Global South” because I find them limiting. While there are compelling perspectives from both Global South and mainstream scholars, I prefer to engage with ideas individually rather than through categorical affiliations. I “cherry-pick” valuable arguments from different approaches without confining myself to a single ideological framework.

The international legal system is deeply flawed, inconsistent, and often unworkable. Even when you adhere strictly to mainstream rules, you can reveal its contradictions and challenge it effectively. Sometimes, adopting political labels like “Global South scholar” detracts from the strength of a legal argument. The system is fragile enough to critique within its own boundaries without need to invoke external categories.

That said, I value alternative perspectives and critical approaches. They enrich discussions and expose weaknesses in international law. However, I’m cautious of allowing political or geographical labels to overshadow the rigor of legal reasoning. I criticize arguments not because of someone’s background or geographical origin but because they may lack coherence or merit.

Ultimately, while regional perspectives bring depth to the discourse, overemphasizing them risks undermining the universality of legal arguments. My focus is always on fostering strong, reasoned critiques that challenge the system constructively, whether those critiques come from the Global South or elsewhere.

Garvit: Given your diverse teaching and learning experiences in Argentina, Boston, and India, how does the diversity—or lack thereof—in the scholarship referred to in international law course manuals affect how students learn or engage with the subject?

Federico: When students first encounter international law, the foundational texts they are referred to are often from mainstream scholars like Brownlie or Shaw. This is a global phenomenon, irrespective of whether the students are in Argentina, Boston, or India. While electives may offer alternative perspectives, the foundational course material is largely homogenous and reflects a Western-centric canon of scholarship.

Latin America, for instance, has produced many excellent international lawyers, but historically, they often conformed to Western norms—writing in French or English rather than Spanish—and sought validation from Western institutions. This phenomenon illustrates a tendency in Latin America to look to Western Europe or the U.S. for intellectual legitimacy. While India also has a colonial past, its vast and rich cultural history, along with its significant global population, situates it differently in the international law discourse.

An important issue is that many valuable, challenging, and unconventional perspectives don’t make it into the “mainstream” international law canon. Institutional politics often dictate what gets published in prestigious journals or what is recognized as authoritative. For instance, a brilliant argument or critique might be overlooked because it doesn’t align with the institution’s strategic priorities, like maintaining relationships with prominent figures or entities.

As a teacher, I see course manuals as a formal and transparent way to guide students. However, I don’t limit myself to them. My approach is student-centred. I adapt classes to their interests, even if it means diverging from the prescribed curriculum. Unfortunately, many students rely heavily on quoting established scholars, like Brownlie or Crawford, without developing or articulating their own views. This reflects a broader reluctance to engage critically with the material and produce original insights.

A stark example of systemic bias is the differential recognition given to scholars from the Global South compared to those from the mainstream. Take Judge Trindade, a brilliant jurist from the Global South with significant contributions to international law. Despite his solid scholarship, his legacy hasn’t been celebrated as extensively as mainstream figures like Crawford. The difference in recognition reveals how entrenched power dynamics shape the intellectual landscape of international law.

This issue underscores the need for students to critically engage with international law, challenge its biases, and contribute their own voices. It’s through this engagement that the discipline can evolve, becoming more inclusive and representative of diverse perspectives.

Abhijeet: Since you mentioned Judge Trindade, how was his passing received differently in the Latin American and Western international legal communities? Additionally, could you reflect on your exposure to academia across three diverse regions—Latin America, the West, and India—and how this shaped your perspectives on the field?

Federico: Trindade was an unparalleled figure in the Inter-American Court of Human Rights for his extraordinary contributions. His passing resonated profoundly within the Latin American community, where he was revered as an intellectual giant, far more than in Western Europe, despite his position as an ICJ judge at the time of his death. His unrelenting commitment to his work until his final days exemplifies his dedication to human rights and the judiciary.

Regarding academia, my experiences highlight stark contrasts between the regions. In Argentina, academia is primarily part-time, with most professors balancing multiple roles, such as practicing law or serving as judges. While the country has world-class scholars, the lack of systemic support—such as scant opportunities for full-time faculty positions—forces many to pursue academic careers abroad. Historical luminaries like Drago and Calvo set high standards, but contemporary academia in Argentina struggles to consistently produce such global influences.

Coming to the second question, in Argentina, the public education system instils resilience. Students are expected to be self-reliant; nobody spoon-feeds them. Teaching here is driven by commitment—professors juggle multiple jobs but still prioritize their love for teaching. They are approachable and deeply invested in their students’ growth, despite limited resources. This makes Argentine academia a place where struggle is inherent, but it breeds grit and passion.

In contrast, American academia feels like the “First Division”—a professional league. The academic quality is exceptional, supported by systems like tenure that ensure intellectual freedom. However, the pressure to “publish or perish” can sometimes prioritize quantity over quality. The U.S. excels in identifying and attracting global talent, which creates an intellectually diverse and competitive environment. Yet, its restrictiveness in terms of access due to high costs is a significant downside. The system’s ability to harness resources for quality is impressive, but it also highlights the stark inequalities in access to education.

India, for me, was transformative—a wake-up call. Unlike Argentina, which often views the world through a U.S.-centric lens, India offers a completely distinct worldview. It’s not just a different perspective on the same issues but an entirely different set of issues and approaches to consider. The depth of its culture and the sheer diversity of thought make it a unique space to engage with. India also has a pivotal role in the rapidly shifting global power dynamics, and I see it as a key player in shaping the future.

These experiences have helped me understand the diversity of global academic cultures and how they shape knowledge production and engagement.

Garvit: Whenever I encounter individuals interested in international law, I often ask if there’s a particular book or journal article that has significantly influenced their understanding of the field, or perhaps even shifted their perspective on it. Has there been any work like that for you?

Federico: The answer really depends on where you are in your career and what stage of development, you’re in as a scholar. For me, reading classic authors from the mid-20th century—like Charles Rousseau and Max Sorensen—was very influential. These are the figures who shaped international law in the second half of the 20th century, and I realized that many of the problems they addressed are still relevant today.

As for more specific works, I’ve turned to various authors depending on the topic. For example, if you’re interested in genocide, Lemkin is insightful; for human rights, Lauterpacht is key; and for analysing the League of Nations, Wells is brilliant. One of the most impactful authors for me was Hans Kelsen. While he’s often known for his work on constitutional law, especially in the West, his contributions to international law, especially in the 1950s, were significant. His analysis still raises relevant issues that haven’t been resolved today, and his work on positivism is often overshadowed by his reputation.

I also recommend the book Mestizo International Law by Arnulf Becker Lorca, a Chilean author. This book critiques how classical international law was reshaped by the dominant powers and is crucial for those interested in critical approaches. Another author I admire is Michael Glennon, especially his book The Fog of Law. Glennon, who was influenced by figures like Louis Henkin, offers thought-provoking ideas on international law’s evolution, particularly around the concept of the death of Article 2(4) of the UN Charter.

For more accessible reading, I also enjoy Philippe Sands’ work, like East West Street and The Ratline. Sands provides a compelling narrative that combines history and international law, making it a great way for students to engage with the field.

Ultimately, my advice is always to be sceptical and critical of what one reads. Don’t accept everything at face value—approach it with a questioning mindset.

Abhijeet: Thank you for your time, professor. This has been insightful!