Experience report 2025/2026: A hall. Marble. Chandeliers. A lectern. Seven empty seats. Pure tension.

By Lennart Schröter

“All rise. The International Court of Justice is now in session.” After such a long journey, you can’t help but get goosebumps when those words ring out one last time. That silence before you walk up to the lectern and, for the millionth time, begin your opening remarks with “May it please the Court.” 21 minutes of full attention, full concentration, full tension until the mic-drop moment: “Thank you, Your Excellencies!”

What culminates in this moment begins months earlier—quieter, less spectacular, but no less intense. The Jessup is an international law moot court in which students take on the role of litigants before the International Court of Justice. Based on a new, complex case each year, they represent fictional states—sometimes on the plaintiff’s side, sometimes on the defendant’s side. This year, the multifaceted case involved questions regarding the rights of indigenous peoples, the immunity of state-controlled enterprises, the intervention of third states in proceedings, and the extension of the prohibition against double jeopardy. The goal is not to find a “correct” solution, but to argue persuasively, to penetrate opposing positions, and to work at the highest legal level.

It doesn’t begin with a courtroom argument, but with a glance at a document on the screen. A case that seems confusing at first glance, appears even more complex upon closer inspection, and only gradually reveals itself. That is precisely where the appeal lies. You aren’t simply presented with knowledge; instead, you are forced to think your way through it, recognize connections, and develop your own sound line of reasoning.

It quickly becomes clear that this is not about recalling familiar patterns. Instead, a phase of reading, discarding, and rethinking begins. Decisions are not merely cited, but dissected. Arguments are not merely formulated, but tested for their robustness. And often enough, after hours of research, you sit there and realize that the supposedly secure position still has a weak point. It is precisely these moments when one begins to truly work as a lawyer.

Over time, this initial searching evolves into a structured, precise way of working. Ideas become lines of argument, bullet points become fully developed briefs. Every sentence carries weight, every phrase serves a purpose. One refines, discards, and rewrites. Not because of external expectations, but out of one’s own standards.

The transition from the written to the oral phase brings a whole new dynamic. Suddenly, it’s no longer just about having good arguments, but also about presenting them convincingly. The first attempts are rarely perfect. You speak too quickly, lose your train of thought, or let questions throw you off balance. With each practice session, you become more confident, clearer, and more focused. Questions are no longer interruptions but offer a chance to shine. That is precisely where progress lies.

And then, at some point, comes that moment when everything comes together. When you stand at the lectern, are asked a question—and realize that you can not only answer it, but that you understand it, contextualize it, and use it to your advantage. Whether through pleadings at law firms on the 27th floor of a skyscraper or in our beloved JUR5, our office, during a feedback session with our passionate coaches on the train back to Münster at night. This confidence doesn’t come suddenly, but is the result of all the hours, the discussions, the doubts, and the small steps of progress in between.

But on a personal level, too, the Jessup Moot Court is not just an opportunity—it’s an experience. What begins with four students who know very little about this once-in-a-lifetime experience evolves into a team where the absence of even one person feels a bit off. We laughed, ate, took quizzes, played games, debated, sang, and locked ourselves in a hotel room together to read the opposing team’s memorials.

The Jessup Moot Court was a journey—a journey that only works when we’re together and that ultimately ends with us becoming a small family. This special bond isn’t just about sharing rice cakes or buying someone a coffee! It’s the conversations in between, the team-building weekend spent together, the trip to The Hague—all of which bring us together even outside the competition and all the legal stuff. And so the Jessup debutants Eva, Charlotte, Marlene, and Lennart became a little Jessup family. And let’s not forget the coaches: Anna, Paula, and Friederike supported the team with so much passion, motivation, and sound advice. So you are by no means alone on this journey.

In the end, you stand in this hall. Marble. Chandeliers. Lectern.
And you know exactly how you got there.