{"id":22567,"date":"2024-06-11T14:00:10","date_gmt":"2024-06-11T12:00:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/voelkerrechtsblog.org\/?p=22567"},"modified":"2024-06-12T22:11:57","modified_gmt":"2024-06-12T20:11:57","slug":"a-journey-for-understanding","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/voelkerrechtsblog.org\/de\/a-journey-for-understanding\/","title":{"rendered":"A Journey for Understanding (Part I)"},"content":{"rendered":"

This is Part I of the Book Review on Johannes Socher\u2019s \u201cRussia and the Right to Self-Determination in the Post-Soviet Space\u201d (Oxford University Press, 2021). You can read Part II here<\/a>.<\/p>\n

In international law\u2019s complex landscape, few issues elicit as much debate as the elusive concept of self-determination \u2013 not least due to Russia\u2019s contentious state practice. In his incredibly timely book, published already in 2021, Johannes Socher has delved deep into this very topic, offering a thorough analysis of Russia\u2019s self-determination stance. As we venture into the depth of Russia\u2019s engagement with international law, the echoes of historical legacies, imperial ambitions, and conflicting narratives emerge. While Socher\u2019s book offers a guiding light, one ponders: What aspects will the author highlight through selected frames, and how will these choices inform and shape our understanding of the subject?<\/p>\n

The book begins with an epigraph from Dostoyevsky\u2019s \u2018The Brothers Karamazov\u2019, quoting a defense speech. Dostoyevsky, whose work we owe the cultivation of the \u2018mysterious Russian soul\u2019 (see Williams (1970)<\/a>, p. 582), wrote a story about Karamazov, accused of murdering his father. In the quote, a literary device used by Socher, Karamazov\u2019s advocate refers to the preceding prosecutor\u2019s speech:<\/p>\n

\u201cI was warned in Petersburg, and was myself aware, that I should find here a talented opponent whose psychological insight and subtlety had gained him peculiar renown in legal circles of recent years. But profound as psychology is, it\u2019s a knife that cuts both ways (\u2026)\u201d (p. XXV).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The reader immediately wonders, will Socher act as a prosecutor or the defender of the Russian stance on self-determination?<\/p>\n

Taking sides, however, is not Socher\u2019s intention. His goal is to fill a gap in the literature which, as Socher would have it, mostly focused on \u201cjudging\u201d Russia\u2019s involvement in self-determination conflicts and did not aim at \u201cunderstanding\u201d a specific Russian approach (p. 11). Socher endeavors to genuinely engage with Russian claims vis-\u00e0-vis European perspectives as an object of investigation (p. 7). In the conclusions, he suggests that it is \u201cmore insightful\u201d to see that Russian references to international law differ from Western approaches, signifying not just power politics but a regional fragmentation of international law (p. 206). To provide a rationale for contrasting Russia\u2019s position with the Western or European viewpoint, Socher employs the fragmentation framework and refers in particular to Koskenniemi\u2019s well-known critique of Eurocentric international law, heavily influenced by European values and originally designed for \u2018civilized nations\u2019 (p. 7).<\/p>\n

Given the significance and richness of the questions prompted by the book\u2019s approach which extend beyond the specific legal concept of self-determination, our review will be divided into two parts. The first part will focus on the book\u2019s framing and discuss the issues of \u2018understanding\u2019 and international law\u2019s Eurocentrism, particularly concerning self-determination. In the review\u2019s second part, we will leave the bird\u2019s eye perspective and explore Socher\u2019s rich empirical work and analysis of the Russian state practice on self-determination, as well as their Soviet legacy. Socher\u2019s extensive work also illuminates the complicit roles of Soviet and Russian academia in shaping the self-determination right in line with the state foreign policy. These insights are further contextualized with developments post-book\u2019s release.<\/p>\n

\u0423\u043c\u043e\u043c \u0420\u043e\u0441\u0441\u0438\u044e (\u043d\u0435) \u043f\u043e\u043d\u044f\u0442\u044c?<\/strong><\/p>\n

One can (not) understand Russia with the mind, or can they? At the book\u2019s outset, Socher challenges readers to move beyond \u201cjudging\u201d and towards \u201cunderstanding\u201d Russia\u2019s approach to self-determination. The pursuit of \u201cunderstanding\u201d is a recurring theme throughout the book. Socher explores various frames of references, in which inconsistencies of Russia\u2019s stance could make sense: Those reach from understanding their approach through the lens of \u201cassumed spheres of influences\u201d, Schmitt\u2019s Gro\u00dfraum<\/em> theory, and Koskenniemi\u2019s differentiation between classic and romantic conceptions of self-determination (pp. 207-209). Yet, despite these attempts, Socher notes, Russia\u2019s state practice remains inconsistent (ibid).<\/p>\n

The author further addresses the perceived language barrier hindering understanding of Russian scholarship, urging Western scholars to self-reflect (p. 211) (as reviewers, we add that self-reflection shall be certainly available to Russian scholars too). He underscores that during the Cold War, understanding Soviet thinking was essential, and warns against viewing Russia as an \u201cexotic Other\u201d (pp. 211-212). Here one might ask themselves: is the problem Socher takes with \u201cexoticizing\u201d about not taking Russian viewpoints seriously or about applying double standards due to the perceived difference of these views?<\/p>\n

While Socher aspires to be able to understand<\/em> Russia, the reader misses the author\u2019s reflection on what understanding<\/em> \u2013 beyond the challenges presented in comprehending the Russian stance \u2013 truly means. Exploring and contextualizing the (different) meanings and dimensions of understanding<\/em> would have surely been helpful. Especially, insights drawn from Hans-Georg Gadamer and Vittorio H\u00f6sle could have informed this quest.<\/p>\n

What Does It Mean \u2018To Understand\u2019?<\/strong><\/p>\n

Unsurprisingly, the term understanding<\/em> is multifaceted. As the ordinary meaning of \u201cunderstanding\u201d is ambivalent and thus not immediately helpful we might look to adjacent disciplines to acquire deeper and more comprehensive knowledge. In philosophy, understanding broadly implies deep comprehension of phenomena, crucial for achieving scientific epistemic goals (de Regt and Dieks (2005)<\/a> pp. 139-140, Stocker (1980)<\/a> pp. 329-330, Friedman (1974)<\/a> p. 15). H\u00f6sle (2018)<\/a> identified another dimension that is, \u2018understanding as excusing\u2019 (pp. 20-22), stemming from Terence<\/a> and Madame de Sta\u00ebl<\/a>. While understanding must not necessarily lead to forgiveness (cf Brattvoll (2023)<\/a>), it offers interesting insights into the Russian use of the term, reflected in Dostoyevsky\u2019s \u2018Crime and Punishment\u2019 and Tolstoy\u2019s \u2018War and Peace\u2019 which cites \u2018tout comprendre c\u2019est tout pardonner\u2019 (Book I, Part I, Chapter XXV). In fact, the Russian equivalent, \u2018\u043f\u043e\u043d\u044f\u0442\u044c \u0438 \u043f\u0440\u043e\u0441\u0442\u0438\u0442\u044c\u2019, appears in various contexts, including a 2014 interview<\/a> with a Crimean official post-staged referendum.<\/p>\n

Gadamer<\/a> (1960), on the other hand, carves out the intimate connection of understanding with interpreting and discerning which aspects to highlight (pp. 250-251, 306, 388). His idea of \u2018fusion of horizons\u2019 illustrates gaining an understanding as entering another one\u2019s viewpoint and navigating familiar and unfamiliar elements in an \u2018I-Thou\u2019 interaction (ibid., pp. 179-181, 237-242, 370). For Gadamer genuine understanding requires both parties to meet on the same level, engage in a \u2018conversation\u2019 without applying distorting frames, and be open to adjusting their viewpoints (ibid., pp. 360-387).<\/p>\n

Applying this conversational lens illustrates the challenge that trying to understand Russia\u2019s stance on international law poses. Russia\u2019s frequent questioning of rules\u2019 universality and its weaponization<\/a> of the language of international law for foreign policy defeats the possibility of a Gadamerian dialogue. Therefore, Socher\u2019s application of sophisticated frames to interpret Russia\u2019s actions, while offering a captivating read, risks skewing the meaning of understanding by trying to understand the other better than they do understand themselves (cf Gadamer, pp. 194, 352-353; H\u00f6sle, pp. 175-176). Socher appears to overlook a straightforward message from Russia: their belief is not in their arguments, but in that they can get away with them.<\/p>\n

The forthcoming sections of our review are guided by two insights from the above analysis: the challenge of understanding with distorted frames, which we will discuss through the \u2018Russian soul\u2019 and Eurocentrism frames; and the importance of highlighting in understanding which will be exemplified by Socher\u2019s depiction of the Crimea case-study.<\/p>\n

The Frame of the \u2018Russian Soul\u2019<\/strong><\/p>\n

Attempts to understand Russia frequently involve the misguided use of the \u2018Russian soul\u2019 concept, effectively exoticizing the subject. The frame is notably absent in Socher\u2019s direct analysis. What is noteworthy is that Socher bookends his analysis with a quote from Dostoyevsky in the epigraph and concludes the book with a caution against exoticizing Russia. Wishing to contextualize and continue the discussion begun by Socher, given the significance of this frame in the context of understanding, and its relevance for the Russian self-determination discourse, we will now delve into it.<\/p>\n

Robert C. Williams\u2019 in-depth investigation of the history of the \u2018Russian soul\u2019 concept \u2013 an idea embodying complexities of understanding Russia \u2013 reveals that the term emerged in Russian vocabulary mid-19th<\/sup> century after the Crimean War, disastrous for the Russian Empire (Williams (1970)<\/a>, p. 582). As an alternative to what could have been classified as a failed state, the \u2018Russian soul\u2019 embodied Russian nationalism and zeal for self-determination centered on its people \u2013 good, innocent peasants destined for a triumphant future (Williams, pp. 573-578, 582).<\/p>\n

Interestingly, suggesting Russian superiority over the materialistic West \u2013 which sold its soul in a Faustian way \u2013 was not a Russian invention, but an idea borrowed from German idealism (ibid., pp. 573-576). Dostoyevsky interpreted the \u2018Russian soul\u2019 as anti-European, with the twist that Russia would save Europe with brotherly love (ibid., p. 584). Even as Russia\u2019s industrial efforts weakened its position to make claims of moral superiority, the myth of the \u2018Russian soul\u2019 was kept alive in the West (ibid., p. 585). Lenin, for instance, was described as symbolic of the Russian soul\u2019s reaction to Western civilization (ibid., p. 587).<\/p>\n

The \u2018Russian soul\u2019 idiom\u2019s persistence in Western narratives is striking. We only have to browse through the archives of The New Yorker magazine<\/a> (hereinafter \u2013 TNY) to see that since its debut in 1925, the magazine has employed it in myriad realms: ballet critiques linking it to the character of a \u2018little [powerless] man\u2019, literature and cinema reviews depict souls \u201cpickled in Hunter\u2019s vodka\u201d and the indescribable \u201cRussian soul-thirst\u201d (TNY, 22 January 1979, p. 99; 23 October 1995, p. 36; 04 May 1968, p. 163). Yeltsin\u2019s comments during the Communist Party Case underscored the yearning for expansion in the \u201cconsciousness of the Russian\u201d and \u201ca powerful image in the Russian soul: the idea of breadth as wealth-the more, the better\u201d (TNY, 30 November 1992, p. 118). Needless to say, in these examples the term is used with little to no explanation, thus promoting a romanticized view of Russia and its people. Only in 2023, TNY\u2019s piece<\/a> emerged, contemplating the impact of everyday romanticization on foreign policies, reflecting on Dostoyevsky\u2019s expansionist rhetoric mirrored in modern-Russian propaganda, on Russian literature in Putin\u2019s invocations of the \u2018Russian world\u2019 and the lack of post-colonial criticism of Russian legacies, unlike British or French, due to non-overseas imperial expansion.<\/p>\n

Ukrainian writers have been even more straightforward in critique<\/a> of what they see as Western need to rationalize evil and Russian normalization of it. They explain the weaponization of Russian culture<\/a>, the impact of Dostoyevskism<\/a> on the Russia\u2019s 2022 invasion of Ukraine, and the intellectual roots of events in Chechnya, Moldova, and Georgia<\/a> in Russia\u2019s revered literary works (see also Plokhy (2015)<\/a>, p. 152). As Russian literature largely evaded post-colonial scrutiny with its writers not being seen as \u2018troubadours of the empire\u2019<\/a>, <\/u>similarly, the saltwater test further shielded the USSR from being identified as a colonial power, sparing it from self-determination claims (Socher, pp. 29-32, 54-55; cf. Sparks (2023)<\/a>, p. 90).<\/p>\n

As such, the \u2018Russian soul\u2019 frame, commonly used outside the context of exploring the origins of Russia\u2019s own self-determination claims, proves inadequate in understanding Russia. This frame leads to exoticizing the subject, a pitfall Socher also cautioned against (Socher, p. 212).<\/p>\n

The Frame of Eurocentricity<\/strong><\/p>\n

While Eurocentricity is an important debate<\/a>, its utility in understanding a Russian approach is constrained. As will be shown below, this limitation stems from the difficulty in reconciling critiques of Eurocentricity with Russia\u2019s own colonial history, active role in shaping \u2018Eurocentric\u2019 norms, especially with a view to self-determination, and its responsibility as a UN Security Council permanent member to uphold peace within those rules. This discussion gains particular significance considering the 2022 Russian invasion of Ukraine and many global responses that weaponized the Eurocentricity critique, overlooking imperial rationale of the Russian aggression and Ukraine\u2019s anti-colonial struggle for self-determination (Labuda (2023)<\/a>, pp. 2-22; cf Plokhy (2015)<\/a>, pp. 349-350).<\/p>\n

Eurocentrism Critique<\/strong><\/p>\n

Eurocentrism is criticized, among others, for the projection of its vision of international law through imperialism and colonialism (cf Socher, p. 7; Nollkaemper (2011<\/a>), para 11). In fact, during the 19-20th<\/sup> centuries, colonial conquests and territorial expansions were not limited to (Western) European states: examples also include Russia\u2019s occupation of Siberia (K\u00e4mmerer (2018), para 4<\/a>) and the USSR\u2019s imperialist formation through invasion, occupation, and staged referendums (cf Friedmann<\/a> (1965)<\/a> p. 870).<\/p>\n

Socher notes that despite Soviet claims to distinct international law based on Marxism-Leninism, Soviet doctrine was arguably never Marxist, and might be better understood through the hegemony concept, (p. 8) a view extending to modern Russia\u2019s conceptualization of self-determination right in its self-defined sphere of influence that arguably support \u201cthe idea of a greater Russian Reich or derzhava\u201d (pp. 9-19, 207).<\/p>\n

At this juncture, the reader begins pondering about the value of turning to the Soviet\/Russian hegemonic view, given that it faces criticism similar to the Eurocentrism challenge. If we accept the need for it, and having Gadamer in mind: can a meaningful conversation and reciprocal influence between views exist if one party refuses to engage in good faith and manipulates the language of law, while the other attempts to reconcile the differences? Is the utility of this dialogue further undermined when considering observations by both Socher (pp. 71-76) and Butler<\/a> (2020)<\/u> (pp. 59-61, 214-220) that Russian jurisprudence and doctrine symptomatically do not get the basics of international law right (as seen in cases like Tatarstan)? In other words, without addressing these issues, one is left wondering: Can understanding be reached at all, and if so, what exactly can be learned from the Russian perspective on international law?<\/p>\n

Russia\u2019s Role in Shaping Mestizo International Law<\/strong><\/p>\n

Socher situates his study within broader research of regional perspectives on international law, referencing Becker Lorca (2006)<\/a> among others (p. 7). What Socher does not explore is Becker Lorca\u2019s (2014)<\/a> lens of international law\u2019s mestizo (mixed) origins, shaped by central and peripheral interactions leading to universal norms, which in our view offers a more comprehensive understanding of Russia\u2019s role in shaping legal regimes (pp. 9-23).<\/p>\n

Historically, after the 1709 Battle of Poltava, Russia emerged as a formidable European power, later contributing to the European collective hegemony through the 1815 Vienna Congress (Plokhy (2015)<\/a>, pp. 127-134, Th\u00fcrer (2011)<\/a>, para 3). Yet, the 19th<\/sup> century saw Russia striving to reaffirm its standing among \u2018civilized\u2019 nations, and Becker Lorca\u2019s study covering 1842-1933 period, reveals Russia\u2019s semi-peripheral position during these years, with lawyers like Martens, contributing to universal rule creation (Becker Lorca, pp. 118-128).<\/p>\n

Friedrich (aka Fyodor Fyodorovich) Martens actually exemplifies the difficulty with placing Russia against the Eurocentric perspective. Socher\u2019s book footnotes M\u00e4lksoo\u2019s (2014)<\/a> work \u201cF.F.\u00a0Martens and His Time: When Russia Was an Integral Part of the European Tradition of International Law\u201d, but in a different context (p. 41). Importantly here, Martens, a representative and legal advisor for Russia, utilized the \u2018civilized\u2019 benchmark both to argue for Russia\u2019s inclusion in the international community and to justify its expansionist policies (M\u00e4lksoo (2006)<\/a>, pp. 388-389, M\u00e4lksoo (2014)<\/a>, pp. 813-825). Marten\u2019s apologetic rhetoric behind Russia\u2019s 1877 intervention in the Ottoman Empire, was labelled by Koskenniemi (2005)<\/a> as emblematic of a \u2018European tradition\u2019 (pp. 113-114).<\/p>\n

The above shows that understanding historical contingencies of international rule development is critical in assessing Russia\u2019s attempts to carve out special norms. Ultimately, it is essential to differentiate between appreciating diverse perspectives and subjecting different actors in similar situations to distinct rules (Peters (2019)<\/a>). In other words, criticism \u201ccannot stop at Europe\u2019s boundaries\u201d (see Koskenniemi\u2019s interview with Obreg\u00f3n (2017)<\/a>, p. 383).<\/p>\n

Shaping the Right to Self-Determination<\/strong><\/p>\n

Socher argues that the history of the self-determination principle in international law starts with the Russian Revolution, not Woodrow Wilson\u2019s Fourteen Points (p. 12, Chapter 1). This duality, commonly used as a heuristic<\/a>, may overlook the role played by other actors and deny their agency. In this context, Becker Lorca\u2019s book again offers a different frame, while providing space to accommodate Russian contribution.<\/p>\n

Becker Lorca highlights non-Eurocentric stories (pp. 8-9) and demonstrates how semi-peripheral States in the early 20th<\/sup> century shifted from the civilized standard to statehood arguments, facilitating recognition of self-determination as an international right (pp. 226-287). Socher\u2019s book, by addressing the USSR\u2019s role in codifying the right to self-determination (Chapter 1), in this sense continues the discussion.<\/p>\n

Yet, while to Socher the USSR\u2019s role has been \u2018the<\/em> decisive\u2019 (p. 12), Becker Lorca, who generally positions Russia as semi-peripheral to the Western center, does not include USSR\/Russia in numerous examples of semi-peripherals contributing to the formulation of the right to self-determination (pp. 227-239). In fact, it is illuminating that his examples include claims by Ukraine and Azerbaijan to join the League of Nations, that were rejected due to the instability of their borders caused by Soviet invasions (pp. 263-273).<\/p>\n

Becker Lorca focus is not on Russia\u2019s central-peripheral role in self-determination, but by revealing the mestizo heritage of the self-determination concept, he enables to see a perspective that goes beyond the typical \u201cWest vs Russia\u201d binary, and to question Russian interactions with nations it views as colonies. This approach also helps to address the challenge posed by Socher\u2019s approach: if readers accept the USSR\/Russia\u2019s decisive role in formulating the self-determination right, how do we reconcile this with an assumption that Russia holds a different, legitimate view from the (dominant) Eurocentric one? This question is even more pertinent considering the structure of international law in the field of international peace and security, where self-determination cases land, and Russia\u2019s responsibility as a UN Security Council\u2019s permanent member to maintain peace under those allegedly Eurocentric rules.<\/p>\n

Understanding as Highlighting \u2013 The Crimea Case<\/strong><\/p>\n

Socher analyses Russia\u2019s state practice through seven case-studies: Tatarstan, Chechnya, Nagorno-Karabakh, Transnistria, South Ossetia, Abkhazia, and Crimea (Chapters 2-4). Each case-study summarizes the conflicts\u2019 origins, Soviet and post-Soviet developments. This approach offers readers a digestible context, but to achieve clarity, certain facts and narratives are emphasized while others are inevitably omitted.<\/p>\n

The Crimea case-study firmly asserts the annexation\u2019s illegality and powerfully criticizes Russian justifications (pp. 147, 159-176). Yet, some case-study parts require further attention, and within the limits of this review, a few examples are provided.<\/p>\n

The book\u2019s mention of pre-annexation \u201cvigorous policy of Ukrainization\u201d followed by \u201cincreasing radicalization and xenophobia on the peninsula\u201d (p. 156) lacks contextualization and is troublingly vague. An unmentioned 2012 OSCE report<\/a> provides context (p. 303) of Russian nationalism with anti-Tatar sentiment, alongside many ethnic Russians\u2019 refusal to integrate into Ukrainian society. The reality of \u2018vigorous Ukrainization\u2019 was 89% of Crimean pupils studying in Russian before annexation (see OSCE HCNM Report of August 2013<\/a>, p. 27 and of September 2015<\/a>, Sections 4.2-4.4). Post-annexation, Ukrainian-language schooling plummeted further to only 0.1% studying in Ukrainian by 2021, despite the ICJ\u2019s 2017 calls on Russia (see ICJ, Order on Provisional Measures (Ukraine v Russia)<\/a>, paras 97-106; Report of the Council of Europe of May 2022<\/a>, para 34; and of June 2021<\/a>, para 4.7).<\/p>\n

It is surprising to find in the book the rather simplistic narrative of Crimea\u2019s transfer as Khrushchev\u2019s \u201cgift\u201d (p. 153), despite the author footnoting sources debunking the myth, such as Sasse\u2019s detailed analysis, showing broad political and economic motives behind the 1954 decision (Sasse, 2007<\/a>, pp. 6, 95-125). In fact, what could enrich understanding of the Crimean transfer is considering it in the broader context of common USSR reorganizations \u2013 for instance, the dissolution of the Karelian SSR and its absorption into the Russian SFSR. Additionally, referencing a by now<\/a>–sanctioned<\/a> Russian media source on Crimea\u2019s transfer (p.\u00a0153) calls for caution; and even that source notes the transfer\u2019s prosaic economic, geographical, and cultural reasons \u2013 context absent from Socher\u2019s description.<\/p>\n

Finally, the portrayal of Crimea\u2019s Soviet history as a \u201cdispute\u201d contrasts with the \u201cresistance\u201d themes in all other case-studies (cf Socher, pp. 70, 82, 152). This framing is puzzling as the text does not detail any dispute over Crimea\u2019s transfer in Soviet times, and sidelines resistance of Crimean Tatars, the indigenous people, throughout the Soviet era<\/a> and nowadays<\/a>, which is clearly relevant in self-determination discussions.<\/p>\n

This reoccurring linkage between Soviet and contemporary self-determination practices, coupled with a role played by Soviet-Russian doctrine, is the next point we address in Part II<\/a> of our review.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This is Part I of the Book Review on Johannes Socher\u2019s \u201cRussia and the Right to Self-Determination in the Post-Soviet Space\u201d (Oxford University Press, 2021). You can read Part II here. In international law\u2019s complex landscape, few issues elicit as much debate as the elusive concept of self-determination \u2013 not least due to Russia\u2019s contentious […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":8,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[6639],"tags":[3597,4771],"authors":[7010,4856],"article-categories":[5080,3572],"doi":[],"class_list":["post-22567","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-russia","tag-self-determination","authors-polina-kulish","authors-tero-lundstedt","article-categories-book-review","article-categories-symposium"],"acf":{"subline":"Navigating Eurocentrism and the \u2018Mysterious Russian Soul\u2019"},"meta_box":{"doi":"10.17176\/20240612-005014-0"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/voelkerrechtsblog.org\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22567","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/voelkerrechtsblog.org\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/voelkerrechtsblog.org\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/voelkerrechtsblog.org\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/8"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/voelkerrechtsblog.org\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=22567"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/voelkerrechtsblog.org\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22567\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":22601,"href":"https:\/\/voelkerrechtsblog.org\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/22567\/revisions\/22601"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/voelkerrechtsblog.org\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=22567"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/voelkerrechtsblog.org\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=22567"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/voelkerrechtsblog.org\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=22567"},{"taxonomy":"authors","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/voelkerrechtsblog.org\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/authors?post=22567"},{"taxonomy":"article-categories","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/voelkerrechtsblog.org\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/article-categories?post=22567"},{"taxonomy":"doi","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/voelkerrechtsblog.org\/de\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/doi?post=22567"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}