August 2014

Reasonable people can disagree about the legal merits of U.S. court judgments against Argentina requiring it to pay holdout creditor hedge funds. But I can’t say the same about Argentina’s recently announced claim against the United States at the International Court of Justice. Based on Argentina’s own description of its legal arguments, I stand by my earlier assessment: Argentina’s international...

Last November, I wrote a post entitled "Terrorism Is Dead, and Britain Has Killed It." I chose that title because I couldn't imagine a conception of terrorism more absurd than the one argued by the British government and accepted by a Divisional Court: namely, that David Miranda's mere possession of documents illegally obtained by Edward Snowden qualified as terrorism under the Terrorism Act 2000. I obviously...

Just keeping up with the news on international terrorism/counterterrorism this summer could be a full time job. Among many other potentially significant reports, I wanted to highlight this statement recently released by Al Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula (AQAP), often described by U.S. officials as the branch of Al Qaeda that currently poses the greatest threat to the United States....

[Mélanie Vianney-Liaud is a PhD Candidate in International Law at the Aix-Marseille University in France.] Many international Human Rights authorities, including the United Nations General Assembly talked about the “Cambodian genocide” to designate the atrocities of the Khmer Rouge. Yet, while the term “genocide” undoubtedly has considerable appeal, it turns out to be legally inappropriate to describe the massacre of 1.7 million of Cambodians from 1975 to 1979. At the Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia (ECCC) - the court in charge of trying the Khmer Rouge - the indictment of the last surviving Khmer Rouge senior leaders, known as “Case 002”, includes very limited genocide charges, only with respect to crimes committed on two minority groups: the Cham and the Vietnamese. Predictably, this decision disappointed many victims. The trial began in June 2011. However, in September 2011, the Trial Chamber decided to sever Case 002 into smaller trials and limited the scope of the first trial to the evacuation of Phnom Penh on 17 April 1975 and movements of population in other regions of Cambodia. The genocide charges were excluded from the scope of this first trial. On August 7, 2014, the Chamber found the Accused guilty to have committed the crimes against humanity of murder, political persecution and other inhumane acts through their participation in policies to forcibly displace people. It sentenced them life imprisonment. The Accused are currently trying within a second trial whose scope includes the genocide charges. Since this trial has started on July 30, 2014, it seems appropriate to clarify some of the complexities of the crime of genocide, generated by the specificities of the Cambodian context and the legal framework of the ECCC. Genocide has been defined in the 1948 Convention on the Prevention and Repression of the Crime of Genocide as requiring the intentional destruction of “a national, ethnical, racial or religious group as such”. The enumeration of specific protected groups implies that the perpetrators’ conception of the victim group bears some relation to one of these protected groups. The Khmer Rouge regime is known for its system of terror and arbitrariness. Conditions of living were so extreme that a substantial part of the population died without that seemed to be directly imputable to group-based persecutions. However, indications of the targeting of particular groups undeniably exist in the case of the Khmer Rouge. This is the case for example, and among others, of the group of educated people and city dwellers referred to as “new people” by the Khmer Rouge. Contrary to “base people,” “new people” did not join the Khmer Rouge revolution prior to April 17, 1975 when Phnom Penh fell into Khmer Rouge’s hands. Forcibly transferred from cities to countryside, “new people” members were often targeted based on this identity (Indictment, § 227). This group however, does not fall under the listed classification defined in the Genocide Convention as the distinction made by the Khmer Rouge was based on an individual’s socioeconomic background. Thus, although the Khmer Rouge had policies of group discrimination, both in regard to ethnic minorities as well as with respect to groups identified within the ethnic Khmer- majority, the characterization of genocide within the definition of the Convention only applies to crimes committed on minority groups. Many victims have therefore seen the crimes for which they have suffered be excluded from the characterization of the “crime of crimes,” even though they are victims of crimes of the same gravity as those committed against the minorities. The definition introduced by the Genocide Convention is too narrow to mirror the historical analysis of the Khmer Rouge criminal phenomenon. The fact that the Khmer Rouge targeted groups within the Khmer-majority population shows that the strict enumeration of protected groups is inappropriate. The question that arises then is whether it would be conceivable to have this definition evolved to correspond with the social reality of the “Cambodian genocide”. Cambodia ratified the Genocide Convention in 1949. Consequently, since its entry into force in 1951, Cambodia has been submitted to the conventional obligation to “enact (…) the necessary legislation to give effect to the provisions of the Convention” (Convention, Article V). However, under the Khmer Rouge, the Convention had not been received into national law yet. This reception only occurred in 2001, with the creation of the ECCC. The 2003 international agreement between the United Nations and Cambodia and the 2004 amended domestic law which establish the court, provide both for its jurisdiction over the crime of genocide “as defined in the 1948 Convention.” However, and despite these provisions, the domestic law then gives a definition of the crime of genocide that differs in key points from the definition set out in the Convention. A state is not prohibited by the 1948 Convention from adopting a broader definition of genocide. The Convention only adopted by a convention a principle which already existed in international customary law. Thus, the reception of the Convention into national legal orders has often resulted in a broadening of the definition of the crime. France, for instance, has gone further adding the “group determined by any (…) arbitrary criterion” to the groups protected by the Convention (French Penal Code, Article 211-1). In the particular case of the ECCC however, the differences between the Convention and the Law have important implications for its subject-matter jurisdiction. In the English version of the ECCC Law, with regard to the list of underlying crimes, the Law indeed replaces the expression “any of the following acts” with “any acts” and the phrase ‘as such’ referring to “group” in the Genocide Convention with ‘such as’ but referring to “acts”.

[caption id="attachment_31019" align="alignnone" width="300"] Map credit: Wikimedia Commons via Radiolab[/caption] Radiolab has  posted an informative and entertaining essay entitled "How to Cross 5 International Borders in 1 Minute without Sweating." It describes the intertwined municipalities of the Dutch town Baarle-Nassau and the Belgian town Baarle-Hertog. Here's the evocative description by Robert Krulwich of Radiolab: The hunky yellow bit labeled "H1" (for Hartog)...

[Tamar Meshel is an SJD Candidate at the University of Toronto Faculty of Law.] In the early 1990s, a trend emerged among international legal scholars and practitioners aimed at reviving the Permanent Court of Arbitration (PCA) and, by extension, the use of arbitration to resolve interstate disputes peacefully. The PCA was created during the 1899 Hague Peace Conference, following a century of successful interstate arbitrations such as those between the United States and Great Britain under the Jay Treaty and the Treaty of Ghent, and it reflected the high hopes of the conference participants that the institution would bring about world peace through arbitration. However, after a decade or two of glory, the PCA gradually fell into disuse as states lost interest in arbitration as a dispute resolution mechanism, and it became aptly known as the “Sleeping Beauty of the Peace Palace” (Sam Muller & Wim Mijs, “The Flame Rekindled” (1993) 6(2) Leiden Journal of International Law). There are many political, historical, and legal rationales for this downturn, including the outbreak of the two World Wars, changes in the international political system, and the creation of the PCIJ and ICJ. This post focuses on another development that, while perhaps less recognized, is arguably responsible in part for the decline of interstate arbitrations during the 20th century, and is still relevant today. This development is the gradual ‘judicialization’ or ‘legalization’ of interstate arbitration to the point of being effectively equated with judicial settlement and both its original nature and distinctive qualities becoming imperceptible and inconsequential. The evolution of interstate arbitration The origins of arbitration can be traced back to ancient Greece, where arbitrators were seen as quasi-diplomats rather than judges, and could therefore “consider the equity of the case, whereas a judge is bound by the letter of the law” (Aristotle, cited in M.C.W. Pinto, “The Prospects for International Arbitration: Inter-state Disputes” in A.H.A. Soons, ed, International Arbitration: Past and Prospects (Martinus Nijhoff Publishers, 1990)). Arbitration continued to be used during the Middle Ages to end wars by reconciling the warring parties, and when the modern era of interstate arbitration began with the signing of the 1794 Jay Treaty between Great Britain and the United States, it was perceived as a hybrid process that combined legal proceedings with diplomatic negotiations. For instance, some of the disputes submitted to arbitration under the Jay Treaty were to be decided according to “justice, equity, and the laws of nations”, and their successful settlement was largely credited to the commissioners’ “spirit of negotiation and compromise”. While they rendered binding decisions and applied legal principles, the commissioners also “act[ed] to some extent as negotiators rather than as judges … temper[ed] justice with diplomacy [in order] to give a measure of satisfaction to both sides” (Pinto, 1990). This perception of interstate arbitration persisted in the first decades of the 20th century. Some states, for instance, distinguished between judicial settlement, designed to resolve “legal disputes”, and arbitration, designed to resolve all other disputes ex aequo et bono while “having regard to the general principles of international law” (e.g., the 1928 Geneva General Act for the Pacific Settlement of International Disputes (.pdf); the 1957 European Convention for the Peaceful Settlement of Disputes). Arbitrators were also “prepared to waive a strict application of the law in order to achieve an acceptable settlement” in interstate disputes, such as the 1909 Casablanca case and the 1910 North Atlantic Fisheries case (M.C.W. Pinto, “Structure, Process, Outcome: Thoughts on the ‘Essence’ of International Arbitration” (1993) 6 Leiden Journal of International Law). However, as a result of the growing global quest during the 20th century for “orderly” interstate dispute settlement through the application of law, this quasi-diplomatic use of interstate arbitration gradually fell into disuse, and the dominant perception became that of the International Law Commission, which viewed it as “a procedure for the settlement of disputes between States ... on the basis of law” (Pinto, 1990 (.pdf)). Accordingly, states increasingly restricted or excluded the power of arbitrators to decide disputes on the basis of equity or non-legal considerations and in all but a few rare, yet successful, cases (e.g., the 1968 Rann of Kutch arbitration; the 1986 Guinea-Guinea Bissau arbitration) arbitrators followed suit. The perception that only ‘judicial’ arbitration based on law should be “arbitration properly so called” thus became the conventional wisdom, even though in some cases, such as the 1977 Beagle Channel arbitration, it failed to resolve the parties’ dispute (Pinto, 1990, 1993).

Your weekly selection of international law and international relations headlines from around the world: Africa Kenya is closing its borders to travellers from Guinea, Liberia and Sierra Leone, the three countries worst hit by the Ebola outbreak, the government has announced. Two U.N. peacekeepers were killed and nine others injured in a suicide attack on a patrol base in northern Mali, the U.N....

Calls for Papers A reminder: the AALS has announced a call for papers on International Human Rights New Voices Panel for the AALS Annual Meeting taking place January 2-5, 2015, in Washington, D.C. The deadline to submit a paper is September 15, 2014. More information can be found here. The Australian International Law Journal, published by the International Law Association (Australian Branch), calls for papers of...

This week on Opinio Juris, we started with follow-up on last week, with Julian raising more issues with the emerging Article II humanitarian intervention power and Kevin sharing his final thoughts on the Bar Human Rights Committee's letter to the OTP in relation to the situation in Gaza. More on the Gaza situation in a post by Kristin Hausler and Robert McCorquodale, who asked whether attacks on schools,...

[Marcos D. Kotlik is a Lawyer, University of Buenos Aires, School of Law –UBA– This post is a part of his ongoing research as a Masters in International Relations candidate and as a research scholarship holder at UBA.] In 2000, Kofi Annan submitted that “decision-making structures through which governance is exercised internationally must reflect the broad realities of our times”. He explained that better governance is achieved through greater participation and accountability and argued that the international public domain must be opened up to many actors, including those from the private sector and civil society organizations. A few years earlier, discussions had begun within the UN that would lead to the conclusion in 2006 of the International Convention for the Protection of All Persons from Enforced Disappearance (ICPAPED). During its negotiation process, non-governmental organizations played a very active role on many levels, most notably on the treaty’s design. Whether we call them “NGOs”, “civil society organizations” or “human rights organizations” (I will not discuss the scope of each category), I propose to examine their involvement in the negotiation of the ICPAPED as an example of global policy networks. Further, I believe that this type of dynamic throughout the treaty’s design process enabled these organizations to ensure their own enhanced participation in the decision-making processes to come, mainly through their intervention before the Committee on Enforced Disappearances. The design of the ICPAPED The interest of civil society organizations on the issue of enforced disappearance has much to do with several countries’ tragic histories and can be traced some decades back (as depicted here (.pdf)by Manfred Nowak). After the UN General Assembly issued the Declaration on the Protection of All Persons from Enforced Disappearance in 1992 and the OAS General Assembly adopted the Inter-American Convention on Enforced Disappearance of Persons in 1994, human rights organizations focused their lobbying in favor of a draft UN Convention. In 1998, the Sub-Commission on Prevention of Discrimination and Protection of Minorities of the UN Commission on Human Rights approved the draft Convention in its fiftieth session (.pdf). Resolution 1998/25 requested to “invite […] non-governmental organizations to provide comments on the draft convention” along with governments and intergovernmental organizations. In consequence, the OHCHR held a two-year long consultation process, and by the end of 2000 the Commission collected the comments of eight NGOs (see document 2001/69). Civil society organizations continued to participate in the elaboration of the Convention, as reported between 2003 and 2006 by the Inter-sessional open-ended working group on a draft legally binding normative instrument for the protection of all persons from enforced disappearance, led by Bernard Kessedjian. Even without considering NGOs’ informal lobbying, these documents demonstrate how they participated in formal debates side-by-side with State delegations, issuing statements and submitting written proposals to modify the final text. The Convention still depended on its final approval by States, but the serious influence of NGOs cannot be ignored. As early as 2000, Witte, Reinicke & Benner already explained here that “international organizations do at times act as norm entrepreneurs by using networks as platforms to advance norms in such areas as sustainable human development or human rights”. The design process of the ICPAPED suggests that the UN system was able to provide the formal governance structure in order to adopt the treaty, although nurturing an informal “coalition for change” (Annan). It seems that the idea of different sectors coming together and collaborating “to achieve what none of the single actors is able to achieve on its own” was accomplished taking advantage of civil society’s “voluntary energy and legitimacy” and of the “enforcement and rule-making power and coordination and capacity-building skills” of states and international organizations. The main characteristics of global policy networks –as described by the former Secretary-General (.pdf)– emerged throughout the negotiation of the ICPAPED: a non-hierarchical process gave voice to civil society almost at every stage; it set a global policy agenda, framed debates and raised public consciousness, developing and disseminating knowledge at the universal level concerning enforced disappearance; it seemingly made it easier to reach consensus and negotiate agreements on new global standards; and it most definitely determined the creation of new kinds of mechanisms for implementing and monitoring those agreements. This last feature will be the focus of the next section. The seed of enhanced participation

Peacekeeping missions such as the UN’s intervention brigade in the DRC (established within MONUSCO by Security Council resolution 2098) have important legal implications. In particular, if the Brigade is considered a party to the conflict in the Congo, do peacekeepers become combattants?   Can they be captured and detained? For an overview of the main issues see the ASIL analysis by...

[Priya Urs has recently received a Master of Law (LL.M.) with a specialisation in International Law from the University of Cambridge, U.K.] The recent Whaling in the Antarctic decision of the International Court of Justice (ICJ) has unraveled existing debates about the propriety of whaling today, illustrated by the pivotal determination of whether the Japanese Whale Research Program under Special Permit in the Antarctic (JARPA II) was in line with the object and purpose of the International Convention for the Regulation of Whaling 1946, and what that object and purpose might be. This issue, in turn, raises less discussed questions about the nature of the obligations the Convention imposes on contracting states; specifically, whether it includes an obligation erga omnes to refrain from commercial whaling. In this brief post I describe what the dispute does and does not tell us about the increasingly multilateral quality of state obligations, allowing even non-injured states like Australia to hold others accountable for obligations owed to the international community as a whole. Multilateralism in International Law Australia in its application to the Court alleged that the Japanese Government’s authorization of commercial whaling under the guise of scientific research was a violation of its obligations under international law - the Convention in particular, as well as ‘other obligations’ for the preservation of marine mammals and the marine environment. New Zealand (intervening) went a step further, suggesting that Japan’s actions were a challenge to the system of collective regulation established by the Convention, including contracting parties’ duty of ‘meaningful co-operation’. Japan on the other hand insisted that JARPA II was in line with the treaty’s Article VIII exception for scientific research, also claiming that there exists in customary international law a freedom to engage in whaling. Considered collectively, the tenor of these various arguments raises a larger question about the very nature of state obligations: have multilateral ‘law-making’ treaties become the dominant source of obligations among states in contemporary international law? Professor James Crawford in a recent publication argues that to a large extent, they have. This trend is evident not only from the pleadings of Australia and New Zealand that conservation is a collective interest among states, but from the framework of the Convention itself. The Court’s discussion of the system of regulation set up by the Convention alludes to the cooperative effort among states contemplated during its drafting. In particular, the majority opinion notes the ‘significant role’ accorded to the Whaling Commission in regulating the activities of contracting states. In sum, whether the Convention amounts to a prohibition on or merely the regulation of commercial whaling, its law-making effect is well established. The obvious conclusion to be drawn, then, is that multilateral agreements - such as the present Convention - are not merely aggregations of bilateral relationships. Their multilateral effect is manifested in the interest of states like Australia and New Zealand in ensuring mutual compliance irrespective of their ability to make claims to specific injury arising out of Japan’s violation. As a result, irrespective of whether the Convention was intended to prohibit commercial whaling as a conservationist effort, or simply to regulate states’ access to a common resource, this emphasis by the Court reaffirms this trajectory in the development of international law. Obligations Erga Omnes What is interesting about the proceedings in this dispute, then, is an issue that was not debated at all. Japan made no challenge to Australia’s standing before the Court (only making a challenge to ICJ jurisdiction using Australia’s reservation to the Convention), seemingly accepting as law the proposition that even though Australia was not an injured state in a bilateral relationship with Japan, it had a legal interest in ensuring widespread compliance among contracting states. This conclusion is purely conjecture, yet, regardless of whether this omission was a conscious decision or a glaring mistake by Japan, it is indisputable that all three parties’ positions in the Whaling dispute fall in line with the ICJ’s gradual recognition of obligations erga omnes over the last half-century. Quick to offer an apology for its rejection of Ethiopia and Liberia’s public interest claim against South Africa in the South West Africa Cases, in 1970 the Court in its famous dictum in Barcelona Traction identified obligations erga omnes for the first time as obligations owed to the international community generally. It was only in 2012, however, that the question of standing was addressed by the Court directly, affirming in Obligation to Prosecute or Extradite that all states – including Belgium, a non-injured state – had a legal interest in ensuring Senegal’s compliance with the Convention Against Torture 1984. This trend is reflected most clearly in Article 48 of the ILC’s Articles on the Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts 2001 (ARSIWA), a progressive development of the law in which, instead of diluting the definition of an injured state, the ILC ultimately chose to recognise the right of a non-injured state to invoke the responsibility of a state in violation of its international obligations. Though not formally, the ICJ has affirmed the text of Article 48(1)(a) in its 2012 decision in Belgium v Senegal. It is worth noting, however, that the Court indulged Belgium as a complaining state in a situation where the obligations involved were erga omnes partes only. As a result, its position on the broader category of obligations erga omnes in Article 48(1)(b) – owed to the international community as a whole - remains uncertain. It would appear that Article 48(1)(a) might have been similarly applied in the Whaling decision as involving obligations erga omnes partes on the basis of which Australia could defend its standing before the ICJ. Indeed, the Court seems to have subconsciously restricted itself to its position in 2012, determining the whaling dispute entirely on the basis of the Convention and choosing not to address Australia’s claims to Japan’s ‘other obligations’ outside of it.    The ICJ’s silence on these developments in the law of standing in the Whaling decision is perhaps an unfortunate result of Japan’s failure to challenge to Australia’s locus standi. It might have been worthwhile for Japan to have argued that Australia had no legal interest in its alleged non-compliance with its treaty obligations, refuting Australia and New Zealand’s characterization of the dispute as involving multilateral obligations of the sort contemplated by Article 48(1)(a). Conversely, Japan could have taken greater advantage than it did of Australia’s characterization of the Convention as a ‘multilateral regime for the collective management of a common resource’ in its jurisdictional challenge, precluding the need for the ICJ’s resolution of the dispute in the first place. Judges Owada and Bennouna hint at this in their dissenting opinions, each arguing that the self-contained institutional framework created by the Convention should be allowed to take effect in the interest of genuine multilateral cooperation, but stopping short of challenging Australia’s right of standing before the Court. Is it possible to conclude that the ICJ is inclined towards expanding the content of obligations erga omnes to include efforts towards conservation of common resources? While the peremptory norm against torture might have been persuasive in recognizing Belgium’s claim to locus standi in Obligation to Prosecute or Extradite, strictly speaking, the peremptory status of the norm in question is irrelevant to the determination of whether the obligation to adhere to it is erga omnes. Consequently, it would be inaccurate to suggest that the Court in the Whaling decision has recognized the existence of an international norm against whaling.