compensation owing from Greece – with Greece to place 50 million lire in a Swiss bank pending the Court’s ruling.  Greece agreed to these measures.

The Conference of Ambassadors, however, proceeded to make some changes in these arrangements that were unwelcome to the Greeks.  On the basis of a preliminary report by the commission of inquiry, the Conference concluded that there had been negligence on the part of Greece – though not direct responsibility – and that, accordingly, the entire 50 million lire deposit be paid straightaway to Italy, with no consideration by the World Court.  Greece complied with this finding, with great reluctance; and Italy duly evacuated its troops from Corfu, after an occupation of about four weeks.  Mussolini also, interestingly, gave part of the payment to the Armenian refugees.  At the League headquarters, there were loud and ill-tempered objections over the brusque sidelining of the organisation in the face of great-power deal-making.

There remained, however, some general legal issues to be disposed of – though not by the World Court.  Instead, a special commission of jurists was set up, with one member selected by each state of the League Council.  Five questions were put to the panel.  Three concerned matters about League jurisdiction, which can be neglected here.  The other two were of more general import.  One was the question of state responsibility for offences against foreigners in the state’s territory.  In its opinion of September 1923, the commission ruled firmly against strict liability, in favor of a general duty on a state’s part to take “all reasonable measures” to prevent crime and to apprehend criminals who injure foreigners.  Interestingly, though, the commission also stated that, regarding foreigners of a “public character,” such as those involved in this incident, there is a duty of “special vigilance” on the part of host countries.

The final legal issue concerned the vexed question of the legal status of coercive measures, reprisal or punitive actions which were not intended by the party taking them to institute a state of war. In particular, the question was whether such measures could amount to a “resort to war” within the meaning of the League Covenant.  On this key point, there was a certain delphic quality to the commission’s holding.  Such coercive measures, it was stated, “may or may not be consistent” with the Covenant.  In other words, the commission accepted that, at least in some circumstances, measures such as armed reprisals would not be considered to be acts of war and hence would not trigger the League’s sanctions for unlawful resort to war.  At the same time, though, it appears to have been envisaged that it was not the prerogative of the acting state unilaterally to determine that issue.  Rather, the League Council was to consider “all the circumstances of the case and the nature of the measures adopted,” in arriving at a decision as to “whether it should recommend the maintenance or the withdrawal” of the measures in question.

The effect, then, was to confirm the existence of a potentially large loophole in the League’s collective-security system.  The League’s automatic sanctions would be mobilised against a resort to war as such – but not against what are called measures short of war such as armed reprisals or punitive actions.  The United Nations Charter, in this key respect, offers an instructive contrast, in that it prohibits not (or not merely) the resort to war per se, but, more broadly, the “use of force” in general.  And that broader prohibition is generally accepted to cover measures of armed coercion short of war such as the Italian occupation of Corfu.

For those in search of a full account of this largely forgotten crisis, a valuable resource is a book by James Barros, The Corfu Incident of 1923: Mussolini and the League of Nations (1965).  More briefly, and specifically on the legal issues, is an article by Quincy Wright in volume 18 of the American Journal of International Law.

As a final note, it cannot be said that the League played a very glorious or prominent role in this inaugural crisis.  There was also disturbing evidence of genuine popular support in Italy for an aggressive foreign policy.  But at the same time, some comfort may be drawn from the fact that, in the immediate term, the escapade marked a defeat for Mussolini.  He had clearly intended to take Corfu permanently and had been frustrated.  Victories for collective security, it would appear, often come in very meagre doses.  But they are none the less welcome for that.