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Roger Alford

Using Investment Arbitration to Enforce WTO Commitments

by Roger Alford

plainpackagingI would like to continue the theme of the emerging convergence of investment arbitration and international trade. In my previous posts (discussed here and here) I discussed the prospect of using trade remedies to enforce investment arbitration awards. Another key example of convergence addresses the emerging trend of relying on investment arbitration to enforce international trade rights. As discussed in my recent article, despite the assumption that international trade disputes must be resolved before the WTO DSB, the existence of broad umbrella clauses in BITs present a promising vehicle for enforcing investment commitments in trade agreements.

Of course, the scope of umbrella clauses is dependent on the language in particular BITs, which varies widely from one treaty to the next. Accordingly, there is no uniform understanding as to the meaning of umbrella clauses. Narrow umbrella clauses are unlikely vehicles for vindicating international trade rights. A treaty commitment such as that addressed in SGS v. Philippines to observe any obligation a Contracting State “has assumed with regard to specific investments” is unlikely to encompass legislative measures or treaty commitments. By contrast, broad umbrella clauses are better candidates for vindicating trade rights, such as the BIT clause at issue in Noble Ventures, Inc. v. Romania, which committed Romania to “observe any obligation it may have entered into with regard to investments.”

ICSID tribunals have interpreted broad umbrella clauses to give investors treaty rights with respect to unilateral undertakings of the State embodied in municipal law. In CMS Gas Transmission Co. v. Argentina, the tribunal concluded that utility tariffs designed to attract foreign investment were “legal … obligations pertinent to the investment.” In LGE v. Argentina, the tribunal concluded that abrogation of guarantees made to investors in a statutory framework gave rise to liability under the umbrella clause. In Enron v. Argentina, another tribunal concluded that the umbrella clause referred to “any obligations regardless of their nature.” This included not only contractual obligations, but also “obligations assumed through law or regulation” that are “with regard to investments.” In Sempra Energy International v. Argentina, a tribunal found that major legal and regulatory changes introduced by the State as part of its public function constituted treaty violations under the umbrella clause. Finally, in SGS v. Paraguay, a tribunal interpreted a broad umbrella clause as creating “an obligation for the State to constantly guarantee observance of its commitments entered into with respect to investments of investors of the other party. The obligation has no limitations on its face—it apparently applies to all such commitments, whether established by contract or by law, unilaterally or bilaterally.”

Note that these sweeping pronouncements do not require that a State’s commitment reference a specific investment or contract. As long as legislative or executive measures relate to the promotion or regulation of investments, they constitute unilateral undertakings covered by a broad umbrella clause. Such ICSID jurisprudence has led María Cristina Gritón Salias to conclude in this book that “tribunals overwhelmingly accept the application of umbrella clauses to obligations assumed unilaterally by host States,” whether those undertakings are “made through legislation or otherwise.” Likewise, Darius Chan has opined here that “the current tide of jurisprudence concerning umbrella clauses is in favor of such clauses encompassing host State commitments of all kinds.”

Assuming such interpretations are correct—which is by no means clear—this has significant implications for the WTO. If trade obligations are subject to investment arbitration, it would authorize private parties to initiate trade cases. Private rights of action through investment arbitration would supplement the diplomatic espousal of claims before the WTO.

This is precisely what one foreign investor has argued with respect to alleged WTO violations as a result of Australia’s plain-packaging laws. On November 21, 2011, Philip Morris Asia Ltd. filed an investment arbitration claim against Australia pursuant to the Hong Kong-Australia Bilateral Investment Treaty. The central contention of Philip Morris is that Australia’s plain packaging legislation violated various international obligations. Among the claims it filed is one under the broad “umbrella clause” in the BIT, which provides that “[e]ach Contracting Party shall observe any obligation it may have entered into with regard to investments of investors of the other Contracting Party.” According to the Notice of Arbitration:

This [umbrella clause] obligation is broader than specific obligations … made by the host State to investors…. It also encompasses other international obligations binding on the host State that affect the way in which property is treated in Australia…. [T]he relevant obligations are those enshrined in TRIPS, the Paris Convention, and TBT. [Claimant] as an owner of the investments is entitled to expect Australia to comply with its obligations pursuant to those treaties. By adopting and implementing plain packaging legislation, Australia has failed to observe and abide by those obligations.”

In response, Australia argued that:

The meaning and scope of such provisions is a matter of great controversy. However it is clear in the instant case that … the “umbrella clause” in Article 2(2) cannot be understood as encompassing general obligations in multilateral treaties…. Rather … the “umbrella clause” … only covers commitments that a host State has entered into with respect to specific investments…. [T]he obligations under the multilateral treaties … are not “obligations” which have been entered into with regard to investments of investors” of Hong Kong, but are rather obligations that operate on the inter-State level, with their own particular inter-State dispute resolution procedures.

It is too early to assess the likely success of such claims, but if the recent “umbrella clause” jurisprudence is accurate the claims are at least colorable.

This potential convergence of trade and arbitration has profound implications for the resolution of WTO violations. An arbitration panel liberally construing a broad umbrella clause could transform how WTO obligations are adjudicated. Exactly how would the adjudication of WTO obligations through investment arbitration alter the landscape? Here are a few thoughts.

First, umbrella clauses in BITs could create a private right of action for resolving WTO disputes. Investment arbitration circumvents the traditional barriers to initiating a WTO dispute. Diplomatic espousal is no longer a reliable check on the pursuit of unmeritorious claims. Through umbrella clauses foreign investors could seek recourse for violations of investment obligations that form part of WTO disciplines.

Second, with WTO dispute settlement the Member States control all decisions with respect to adjudication and resolution of the dispute. Investors may prefer an alternative dispute settlement process that places such decisions within their control. The incentives to settle an investment dispute depend on satisfying investors concerns rather than satisfying the disputing Member States’ concerns.

Third, with limited exceptions, the WTO prohibits unilateral trade remedies. Article 23 of the DSU provides that Member States “shall not make a determination to the effect that a violation has occurred … except through recourse to dispute settlement in accordance with the rules and procedures of this Understanding.” Investment arbitration is not a unilateral remedy imposed in response to a WTO violation, but neither is it WTO dispute settlement. Investment arbitration may provide a vehicle for compensating or attenuating the harm caused to investors without offending the WTO restrictions on unilateral trade remedies.

Fourth, WTO remedies are prospective, while investment arbitration remedies may be retroactive. The goal of the WTO adjudication is to bring Member States into conformity with their trade obligations. The goal of investment arbitration is, consistent with traditional understandings of state responsibility, to “wipe-out all the consequences of the illegal act and reestablish the situation which would, in all probability, have existed if that act had not been committed.”

Fifth, under the WTO dispute settlement process, any losses an investor suffers as a result of a Member State’s WTO violation are not compensable. WTO remedies contemplate compensation directly to a Member State or, failing that, the suspension of concessions paid directly to the Member State in the form of increased duties. With investment arbitration, international law violations result in monetary compensation due directly to the investor.

Thus, liberal interpretations of broad umbrella clauses that encompass investment commitments in WTO undertakings may prove to be an attractive avenue for future investment arbitration.

Using Trade Remedies to Enforce Arbitration Awards: The WTO-Compliance Question

by Roger Alford

Simon Lester has a thoughtful response to my earlier post about using trade remedies to enforce arbitration awards. He questions whether conditioning GSP benefits on compliance with arbitration awards is consistent with WTO obligations. My answer is essentially yes. Because there are so many issues at play, I thought it best to respond in a new post rather than respond in the comment section to his post.

First, there is no question that granting preferential treatment for developing countries does not violate MFN rules. That was settled with the so-called Enabling Clause. The real question is whether a particular GSP-scheme is consistent with the Enabling Clause. The Enabling Clause provides that Member States may accord differential and more favorable treatment to developing countries, provided (a) such treatment is non-discriminatory as between similarly-situated developing countries; and (b) is designed to promote the development, financial and trade needs of the developing countries.

As to the first requirement, the Enabling Clause requires GSP benefits to be conferred in a non-discriminatory manner among similarly-situated developing countries. This, according to EC-Tariff Preferences, requires that the relevant preference be made available to all beneficiaries that share that need. (EC-Tariff Preferences, para. 180). That requirement appears to be met. The U.S. obligation on compliance with arbitration awards is applied to all GSP beneficiaries alike. Argentina might have a discrimination argument if other beneficiary countries refuse to honor arbitration awards but still enjoy GSP benefits. But I am not aware of any such examples, and if anything, it appears that other developing countries like Ecuador will soon face a similar fate as Argentina.

Second, the GSP conditional benefit must be imposed to meet particular development, financial or trade needs. In other words, if you are granted benefits with strings attached, those strings must be for the benefit of the developing country. Simon Lester questions whether conditional tariff benefits can ever meet that requirement. I disagree. If you look at the various GSP schemes, the list of such needs are legion, addressing issues such as drug-trafficking, communism, terrorism, human rights, environmental protection, expropriation, contractual compliance, intellectual property protections, etc.

At one level one might view many of these concerns as primarily about protecting developed countries’ interests more than promoting the developing country needs. But, of course, these goals are mutually-beneficial. Goals such as promoting the rule of law, creating a safe and stable legal climate, encouraging foreign investment, good governance, reducing crime and corruption, guaranteeing human rights, and encouraging environmental sustainability are all legitimate objectives that developed countries legitimately can ask developing countries to pursue.

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Using Trade Remedies to Enforce Arbitration Awards

by Roger Alford

As I discuss in a recent article published in the Santa Clara Journal of International Law, one of the most significant developments signaling the convergence of trade and arbitration is the use of trade remedies to enforce arbitration awards. This is done primarily when a developed country threatens to remove preferential trade benefits to a developing country if that country does not honor its international arbitration commitments.

The WTO allows (but does not require) developed countries to grant preferential trade benefits to “promote the development, financial and trade needs of developing countries.” Many developed countries—including Australia, Canada, the European Union, and the United States—have established such “Generalized System of Preferences” or GSPs to promote trade with developing countries. The major benefit of GSP schemes is the unilaterally lowering of tariff bowers for products from beneficiary countries without a corresponding reduction in tariffs for the developed country’s products.

The discretionary nature of these schemes means that the trade benefits come with strings attached. In the United States and the European Union, for example, developing countries are subject to performance obligations with respect to matters such as drug trafficking, international terrorism, democracy, human rights, environmental protection, government corruption, unlawful expropriation, the rule of law, and good governance.

The United States imposes a number of conditions on beneficiary countries, including that they recognize and enforce arbitral awards in favor of United States nationals. Any country that wishes to secure beneficiary status under the GSP scheme must satisfy this criterion, and any country that fails to maintain this commitment jeopardizes their beneficiary status. The provision was added to the Trade Act of 1974 because of concerns that it was “contrary to sound U.S. policy to give…any… developing nation the favored treatment contemplated by the present legislation in the face of unwillingness to abide by solemn agreements to recognize as final and binding arbitration awards rendered in disputes between it and American parties.” (120 Cong. Rec. 39831).

The use of trade remedies to enforce arbitration awards is best illustrated by the ongoing dispute over Argentina’s refusal to honor adverse investment awards. On March 26, 2012, the Obama Administration announced that Argentina’s GSP beneficiary designation would be suspended “because it has not acted in good faith in enforcing arbitral awards in favor of United States citizens.” It was the first time in American history the United States denied GSP trade benefits to a developing country for its failure to honor arbitration commitments.

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Does the Presumption against Extraterritoriality Apply to the ATS or the Underlying Federal Common Law Claims?

by Roger Alford

I just completed a draft essay on Kiobel for the Notre Dame Law Review (the symposium will include luminaries such as A.J. Bellia, Doug Cassel, William Castro, Bradford Clark, Bill Dodge, Eugene Kontorovich, Thomas Lee, Michael Ramsey, Ralph Steinhardt, Beth Stephens, and Carlos M. Vázquez). To my surprise after careful reflection there remains an important question that I have not seen discussed anywhere thus far: Does the presumption against extraterritoriality apply to the statute only or also to the underlying federal common law claims recognized in Sosa? If it only applies to the ATS, then does it follow that the underlying federal common law claims can be pursued elsewhere, such as in federal courts exercising diversity jurisdiction or in state courts exercising general jurisdiction?

To test the hypothesis, let’s assume that following Kiobel Congress immediately amended the ATS to make it clear that the statute applied extraterritorially. The amendment made no mention of the underlying common law claims one way or another. What impact would that amendment have on the extraterritorial application of the federal common law claims? If the jurisdictional statute suddenly applied extraterritorially by congressional mandate, would the underlying federal common law claims be cognizable for extraterritorial conduct and injury?

If the answer to that question is yes, then does it also follow that the only extraterritorial limitation that Kiobel recognized was with respect to the statute, not the underlying federal common law claims? Reading Kiobel in light of Sosa presents the following possible syllogism: if (1) there is a limited category of federal common law claims actionable for violations of the law of nations; and (2) the statutory canon limits the extraterritorial reach of the ATS, not the underlying common law claims; then (3) the common law claims may be pursued in federal courts exercising diversity jurisdiction or state courts exercising general jurisdiction.

The first uncontroversial premise is that the ATS does not create a cause of action for violations of the law of nations, the common law does. In Sosa the Court held that the ATS, although only a jurisdictional statute, was “enacted on the understanding that that the common law would provide a cause of action for the modest number of international law violations with a potential for personal liability….” It then held that “no development in the two centuries from the enactment of § 1350 … has categorically precluded federal courts from recognizing a claim under the law of nations as an element of common law. Congress has not in any relevant way amended § 1350 or limited civil common law power by another statute.” For such a common law claim to be actionable, however, it must be “based on the present-day law of nations” and “rest on a norm of international character accepted by the civilized world and defined with a specificity comparable to the features of the 18th-century paradigms we have recognized.” The Court in Kiobel reinforced this understanding of a “modest number” of “federal common law claims” actionable for violations of the law of nations. In other words, both Sosa and Kiobel confirm that the ATS is not the source or the limit for common law claims involving international law violations.

The second more controversial premise is that the ATS is a jurisdictional statute and that the presumption against extraterritoriality applies only to the statute, not to the underlying federal common law claims. In Kiobel the Court declared that “the presumption against extraterritoriality constrains courts exercising power under the ATS.” That presumption, the Court said, is “a canon of statutory interpretation” that assumes “when a statute has no clear indication of an extraterritorial application, it has none.” The purpose of the canon is to avoid unintended clashes between our laws and those of other nations by requiring Congress to manifest a clear intent to regulate conduct abroad. Although the ATS “does not directly regulate conduct or afford relief” the Court concluded that “we think the principles underlying the canon of interpretation similarly constrain courts considering causes of action that may be brought under the ATS.” The Court then looked to the text, history and purpose of the ATS to determine whether Congress intended for the ATS to apply abroad, and found “nothing in the statute to rebut the presumption.” Had there been such evidence, the jurisdictional statute would apply extraterritorially without altering the content or reach of the underlying common law claims. Likewise, as noted above, should Congress amend the ATS so that it applies extraterritorially, this too would not alter the content or reach of the underlying common law claims. Thus, the presumption against extraterritoriality applies to limit Congress’ grant of jurisdictional authority to adjudicate federal common law claims for violations of the law of nations.

The surprising conclusion one draws from these two premises is that federal common law claims actionable for violations of the law of nations still may be pursued in federal courts exercising foreign diversity jurisdiction or state courts exercising general jurisdiction. As for the former, foreign diversity jurisdiction pursuant to 28 U.S.C. § 1332 requires a $75,000 amount in controversy and the inclusion of a U.S. citizen either as a plaintiff or defendant. The typical “foreign-cubed” facts pursued in ATS claims would be foreclosed under this grant of jurisdiction. However, where a U.S. citizen is involved in a diversity action, the federal common law claims recognized in Sosa may survive Kiobel’s presumption against extraterritoriality. The presumption against extraterritoriality will apply to the diversity jurisdiction statute as well, but as Anthony Bellia and Bradford Clark argue in their forthcoming essay “[i]t is uncontroversial that federal courts may exercise foreign diversity jurisdiction over tort claims by aliens against U.S. citizens for acts occurring outside the United States.”

This conclusion also means that state courts sitting as courts of general jurisdiction may resolve the federal common law claims recognized in Sosa. Unless one interprets the presumption against extraterritoriality articulated in Kiobel as limiting the underlying common law claims rather than the jurisdictional statute, the international law claims that heretofore were pursued in federal court under the ATS still could be pursued in state court as federal common law claims. There is nothing unusual in suggesting that federal common law claims may be adjudicated in state courts. State courts routinely apply and make federal common law, including claims involving admiralty and implicating the rights and obligations of the United States.

But let’s assume that this syllogism is wrong. If the Court’s application of the presumption against extraterritoriality applies both to the ATS and the underlying federal common law claims, there remains the possibility that state courts could fashion state common law claims based on the criteria established in Sosa. State law routinely mirrors comparable federal law. There is nothing in Sosa or Kiobel that prevents a state court from recognizing a state cause of action for violations of “a norm of international character accepted by the civilized world and defined with a specificity comparable to the features of the 18th-century paradigms,” such as piracy, violations of safe conducts, or offenses against ambassadors. Courts applying the common law already have established gradations of torts that embrace negligence, gross negligence, intentional torts and strict liability. There is no logical reason that an international law violation could not be a state common law cause of action, or at a minimum a critical factor in the determination of liability or damages under state law.

To suggest that the statutory presumption against extraterritoriality does not apply to federal common law claims (or similar state common law claims) is not to suggest the absence of territorial limits. As with the extraterritorial application of state laws, the constitutional limits of the Due Process Clause set forth in Allstate Ins. Co. v. Hague prevent state courts from applying common law claims in the absence of any “significant contact or significant aggregation of contacts, creating state interests, with the parties and the occurrence or transaction.” Nor is there any reason to think courts resolving common law claims for international law violations would go so far as to violate international limits of prescriptive jurisdiction. Both constitutional and international law impose obligations of a territorial nexus separate and apart from the statutory presumption against extraterritoriality. The territorial limits of common law claims for international law violations are derived from constitutional and international law, not canons of statutory interpretation.

I’m not convinced that all of this reasoning is correct, and even less convinced that lower courts will buy these arguments. But I thought it was important enough to flag for our readers.

Guests Posts on Jones v. United Kingdom

by Roger Alford

We are happy to announce that Opinio Juris and EJIL:Talk! will be providing reactions to the European Court of Human Rights decision in Jones v. United Kingdom over the coming days. The critical question in Jones was whether Saudi Arabia and Saudi officials enjoyed immunity from suit for allegations of torture. The Court denied petitioners claims, holding that “The weight of authority at international and national level therefore appears to support the proposition that State immunity in principle offers individual employees or officers of a foreign State protection in respect of acts undertaken on behalf of the State under the same cloak as protects the State itself.” (Para. 204).

Here at Opinio Juris, Chimène Keitner, Bill Dodge (both at the University of California, Hastings College of Law) and Ingrid Wuerth (Vanderbilt) will provide commentary. Over at EJIL:Talk! Lorna McGregor (Essex University), who worked on the case while she was Legal Adviser at Redress (an NGO that helps torture survivors), and Philippa Webb (Kings College London) will discuss the case from across the pond. They all have written influential pieces on the relationship between immunity and human rights.

“We Have Waited Too Long for Our Freedom. We Can No Longer Wait.”

by Roger Alford

The drive from Paarl to Cape Town was only forty-five minutes. The plan was for Nelson Mandela to address the world at the Grand Parade, the great public square adjacent to the Fort of Good Hope, where South Africa’s founding father Jan van Riebeck had established a toehold for the Dutch East India Company in the 17th century. As Mandela drew near to the Grand Parade an enormous crowd enveloped his car. A massive hailstorm of joyous fists hammered down on the boot and bonnet. Well-wishers jumped on the car in celebration, and it began to shake violently. “I felt as though the crowd might very well kill us with their love,” Mandela recalled. Attempts to clear a path were futile and Mandela sat there, stranded in his vehicle for hours. After over ten thousand days of imprisonment, Mandela was now imprisoned by tens of thousands of his most ardent supporters.

Parade marshals eventually came to the rescue, and Mandela finally reached his destination several hours late. Standing on the balcony of the City Hall overlooking the Grand Parade, he looked down on “a boundless sea of people cheering, holding flags and banners, clapping and laughing.” He began his speech in his native Xhosa tongue, leading the massive crowd in the responsive chant that was a regular feature of anti-apartheid gatherings.

“Power!” Mandela bellowed with his fist raised.

“It is ours!” replied the cheering crowd.

“Power!” Mandela repeated.

“It is ours!” yelled the throngs.

“Africa!” chanted Mandela.

“Let it come back!” they chanted back.

“Let it come back!” Mandela replied.

“Africa!” they answered, in a crescendo that was decades in the making.

As the crowd settled down, Mandela embarked on a militant speech that embraced the battle against apartheid on all fronts. “Our struggle has reached a decisive moment,” Mandela said. “We call on our people to seize this moment so that the process toward democracy is rapid and uninterrupted. We have waited too long for our freedom. We can no longer wait.” Saluting communists and combatants, embracing international sanctions, and vowing to continue the armed struggle against apartheid, Mandela catered to his swelling ranks and flamed the fears of his nervous opponents. After twenty-seven years of internal exile, Mandela knew that the first step toward peace was to restore his leadership within the African National Congress.

White South Africans were shocked by Mandela’s fiery speech. The day before President F.W. de Klerk had assured them that Nelson Mandela was “committed to a peaceful solution and a peaceful process.” After hearing the speech, de Klerk felt deceived. “I realized once again that the road ahead would be extremely difficult.”

The great question that had vexed South Africa for decades was, “Not if, but when?” When would the dawn come? The sun-tipped mountains shone bright, but the great valleys, the valleys where old men and women scratched the red blood soil to survive, remained in darkness. “When,” in the words of Cry the Beloved Country, would “that dawn … come, of our emancipation, from the fear of bondage and the bondage of fear?” “Why, that,” Alan Paton concluded, “[was] a secret.” Forty years after that forlorn question was asked it remained an unanswered secret.

The answer did not come on February 11, 1990, the day of Mandela’s release. Nothing Mandela said that day assuaged white fears or emancipated black bondage. At most one could glimpse the first lights of the new dawn on the tips of the mountain. “The road ahead may be long and hazardous,” wrote Archbishop Desmond Tutu, “but at long last it seems what so many have prayed and fasted for … seems more attainable than ever before.”

President F.W. de Klerk, the one responsible for Mandela’s freedom, was more sanguine: “I was struck by an inescapable truth: an irreversible process had begun—and nobody could predict precisely how it would end.”

Morality Play at the WTO

by Roger Alford

“[N]othing in this Agreement shall be construed to prevent the adoption or enforcement by any contracting party of measures … necessary to protect public morals.” Article XX(a), GATT 1994

The long-awaited WTO panel decision on the EU’s ban of seal products is now available. The case raises one of the most interesting unanswered questions regarding WTO jurisprudence: to what extent may Member States impose trade restrictions based on moral or ethical concerns? Can a Member State impose a trade ban because the manner in which a product is produced violates the State’s own subjective understanding of public morals? The answer from the WTO panel is a resounding yes.

The case arose out of the EU’s concern for animal welfare. Seal hunting often involves the inhumane killing of seals resulting in needless suffering. The EU banned the importation of seal products, but exempted hunting by Inuit communities (IC hunts) and in furtherance of marine resource management where seals threatened fishing stocks (MRM hunts). Canada and Norway objected to the ban on seal products, and filed a case before the WTO. A WTO panel issued their report last week.

The case required the WTO to assess whether public morals can justify the ban on seal products. Under WTO jurisprudence, the standard for what constitutes “public morals” is exceedingly easy to satisfy. As stated in US–Gambling, “public morals” are “standards of right and wrong conduct maintained by or on behalf of a community or a nation.” The content of public morals “can vary in time and space, depending upon a range of factors, including prevailing social, cultural, ethical and religious values.” (See para. 7.380). In essence, the WTO panel must assess whether there is public concern about a particular issue and whether that concern is animated by that particular Member State’s public morals. (See para. 7.383).

In EU–Seal Products, the WTO panel examined the text of the regulation and the legislative history as evidence that there was public moral concern about the issue. Ethical concerns expressed in the text of a regulation combined with legislative debate about the morality of the issue appeared to be sufficient for the panel. (The panel dismissed public surveys as inconclusive). On finding that there was a EU concern, the panel held that the:

EU seal regime’s objective is to address the moral concerns of the EU public with regard to the welfare of seals, including the incidence of inhumane killing of seals and EU participation as consumers in and exposure to economic activity which sustains the market for seal products derived from inhumane hunts. EU public concerns on seal welfare appear to be related to seal hunts in general and not to any particular type of seal hunts. In other words, all inhumane seal hunts are of concern, not just commercial hunts. (See para. 7.410).

The key holding was that seal welfare is a matter of EU public morals that justifies the ban on seal products. (See para. 7.505; 7.631). As for the exceptions, the WTO panel rejected the EU’s exemptions for IC hunts, finding that Inuit hunts in Greenland were large-scale commercial operations that were similar to the Canadian and Norwegian commercial hunts covered by the rule. In addition, the exception for MRM hunts was rejected because the EU did not apply the exception in an even-handed way as compared to Canadian and Norwegian hunts. (See 7.650).

Several points are worthy of emphasis. First, the WTO has embraced moral pluralism. This includes what Rob Howse and Joanna Langille describe in this YJIL article as “noninstrumental moral beliefs” grounded in philosophical or religious beliefs. Islamic countries may ban alcohol, Hindu countries may ban bovine meat, and Israel may ban non-kosher meat. Not because there is anything inherently harmful about those products, but simply because they violate the public ethic of that community. As Howse and Langille put it, “public morals” may be justified either as “instrumental regulation designed to counter certain social ills, or as expressive regulation designed to express or give force to intrinsic moral intuitions or shared values.” The fact that there is not universal concern for seal welfare, or that Canada and Norway do not share EU’s concerns, is irrelevant for WTO purposes.

Second, the public moral concerns may derive from conduct that is wholly extraterritorial to the Member State. Under this reasoning, a Member State should be free to impose a ban on products that destroy the rainforest in the Amazon, harm child laborers at rubber plantations in Africa, or advance blatant government corruption in Asia. Personally, that makes sense to me in light of the prison labor exception (Art. XX(e)) included in the original GATT 1948 to address extraterritorial evils such as products manufactured in concentration camps and gulags. But it is nonetheless a controversial proposition.

Third, satisfying a WTO panel that a matter is of ethical concern requires little more than the sponsor of the legislation making sure to include appropriate language in the preamble of the draft regulation and raising moral concerns on the floor of the legislature. The test is easily met in the hands of a skillful legislator. The indeterminacy of establishing a genuine moral or ethical public concern regarding a particular practice is fraught with uncertainty.

Fourth, determining whether a restriction is “necessary” to protect public morals requires the WTO panel to determine the efficacy of a means in pursuit of an intangible goal. How does one determine whether a trade ban is necessary to further moral objections to inhumane hunting? The WTO panel indicated that as long as the trade restriction materially contributed to the objective of reducing demand and avoiding exposure, it satisfied the “necessity” requirement. (7.636-7637).

Fifth, the public morals exception may become the new battleground for WTO litigation. Rather than consistently ignoring this exception and rushing to litigate Article XX(b) (protection of human, animal, or plant health or life) or Article XX(g) (protection of exhaustible natural resources), the new litigation strategy may be to identify how a trade restriction advances ethical concerns of the Member State. In the future, we may see IP piracy restrictions justified as a reflection of public concern about the morality of stealing, a carbon tax implemented out of moral concerns for the ethics of sustainable development, and restrictions on any number of Chinese products justified out of concern that Chinese workers are subjected to a mandatory one-child-per-family policy implemented through forced abortions. After EU–Seal Products the public morals argument is open for creative interpretation.

To be clear, I support a liberal reliance on public ethics to justify legitimate trade restrictions. But the difficulty is how to cabin the morality exception to avoid abuse. EU–Seal Products is now before the WTO Appellate Body for review and clarification.

Omit Needless Words

by Roger Alford

Watching my youngest son draft and redraft his high school essays under the watchful eye of his English teacher, who is smitten by the inerrant wisdom of Strunk and White’s Elements of Style, I was curious how the best legal scholarship in the country fares by classic rules of writing.

To simplify my task, I have chosen one rule that is easily quantifiable. In discussing elementary principles of composition, Strunk and White admonish writers to omit needless words:

Vigorous writing is concise. A sentence should contain no unnecessary words, a paragraph no unnecessary sentences, for the same reason that a drawing should have no unnecessary lines and a machine no unnecessary parts…. Many expressions in common use violate this principle…. In especial the expression “the fact that” should be revised out of every sentence in which it occurs.

So how do the top law journals perform under the microscope of William Strunk and E.B. White? In the countless hours of drafting and editing, do the top scholars and top student editors adhere to this elementary principle of composition?

The results are not encouraging. (Alas, I too plead guilty in my own scholarship). A ten-year search of the number of occurrences “the fact that” appeared in the flagship journals of the top law schools reveals the following:

Harvard Law Review: 869
Michigan Law Review: 496
Yale Law Journal: 459
Columbia Law Review: 436
Chicago Law Review: 431
NYU Law Review: 428
Penn Law Review: 408
California Law Review: 406
Stanford Law Review: 388
Virginia Law Review: 364

So on average the top journals misuse this phrase almost fifty times a year, and the Harvard Law Review misuses it over eighty times a year.

In our obsession with rankings, we can take solace in “the fact that” the Harvard Law Review is the best among the best at using this needless expression.

Lower Courts Narrowly Interpret Kiobel

by Roger Alford

It’s been over five months since the Supreme Court rendered its landmark decision in Kiobel v. Royal Dutch Petroleum. A quick review of lower court decisions suggests that Kiobel marks the end of the Filartiga revolution in the United States.

The most significant lower court ruling to date is Balintulo v. Daimler AG where the Second Circuit rejected plaintiffs’ argument that Kiobel did not preclude claims based on foreign conduct when the defendants are Americans. Nor did the claims “touch and concern” the territory of the United States based on American interests to support the struggle against South African apartheid. In other words, according to the Second Circuit domestic conduct is required for an ATS claim to proceed under Kiobel.

The Supreme Court expressly held that claims under the ATS cannot be brought for violations of the law of nations occurring within the territory of a sovereign other than the United States…. If all the relevant conduct occurred abroad, that is simply the end of the matter under Kiobel…. In all cases, therefore the ATS does not permit claims based on illegal conduct that occurred entirely in the territory of another sovereign.

There are numerous district court cases that are in accord, dismissing ATS claims based on the absence of domestic conduct, regardless of the nationality of the defendants. There is not a single case in which the defendant’s American nationality has been sufficient to displace the presumption.

A few cases further clarify whether claims “touch and concern the territory of the United States … with sufficient force to displace the presumption against extraterritoriality.”

A magistrate judge in Mwani v. Bin Laden held that an attack on the U.S. embassy in Kenya plotted in part within the United States could overcome the presumption. “If any circumstances were to fit the Court’s framework of ‘touching and concerning the United States with sufficient force,’ it would be a terrorist attack that (1) was plotted in part within the United States, and (2) was directed at a United States Embassy and its employees.” By contrast, a federal court in Kaplan v. Central Bank of Iran held that a foreign terrorist attack that killed Americans but targeted another country would not be sufficient to overcome the presumption.

The case of Sexual Minorities Uganda v. Lively, involving an American defendant who allegedly led a campaign of persecution against the LGBT community in Uganda, represents a rare example of substantial conduct within the United States sufficient to displace the presumption. A federal district court in Massachusetts held that where an American defendant engaged in tortious acts that “took place to a substantial degree within the United States, over many years, with only infrequent actual visits to Uganda…. Defendant’s alleged actions in planning and managing a campaign of repression in Uganda from the United States are analogous to a terrorist designing and manufacturing a bomb in this country, which he then mails to Uganda with the intent that it explode there.” In other words, territorial conduct with extraterritorial injuries are sufficient.

Another district court emphasized that it was not sufficient to simply find some conduct within the United States. In Giraldo v. Drummond Company, Inc., a federal district court in Alabama held that even if certain corporate decisions were made within the United States to support human rights abuses abroad, the focus is not on finding some domestic conduct, but what type of conduct occurred at home and abroad. “Where a complaint alleges activity in both foreign and domestic spheres, an extraterritorial application of a statute arises only if the event on which the statute focuses did not occur abroad. Of course, the ATS focuses on the torts of extrajudicial killings and war crimes and … the tort at issue occurred abroad in Colombia, and not in the United States.” This opinion seems to follow Justice Alito’s concurrence, requiring the domestic conduct to violate the law of nations.

As to what constitutes the territory of the United States, a federal court in Al Shimari v. CACI International, Inc. suggested but did not decide that de facto sovereignty might be enough. “The Court finds inconclusive, at best, Plaintiffs’ support for their contention that the United States held de facto sovereignty over Iraq during the relevant period in this case…. It would be difficult to conclude that the United States, to the exclusion of all other involved nations, exercised complete jurisdiction over Iraq.” One wonders whether a claim based on human rights violations in a location where the United States did exercise de facto sovereignty, (i.e., Guantanamo Bay) might be enough.

So there you have it. It is still too early to reach any serious conclusions about Kiobel‘s progeny. But the early scorecard does not look promising for plaintiffs.

Forty Years Ago Today: Pinochet’s Coup in Chile

by Roger Alford

PinochetI have been in Santiago, Chile for the past few days keynoting an international law conference at the Pontifical Catholic University of Chile. It’s an impressive law school in one of the most beautiful cities in South America.

I was fortunate to arrive on the eve of the fortieth anniversary of the defining moment in Chilean history: Augusto Pinochet’s coup d’état on September 11, 1973. Protests are planned throughout the country to memorialize the detained and disappeared. I’m not sure what the norm is in Santiago, but this week Pinochet was very much on the minds of Chileans, with television and newspapers filled with stories on the Pinochet era. An estimated 3,200 were murdered and 38,000 tortured during his reign. I spoke at length with students and professors about their reflections on Augusto Pinochet.

Pinochet’s reputation has plummeted in the past two decades. Almost everyone I spoke with said that the Pinochet extradition trial in the United Kingdom was the turning point. At the time he was arrested in London in October 1998, the country was divided, with as many defending as condemning him. But the international condemnation that ensued in 1999 altered pubic opinion in Chile. Now the vast majority of Chileans view Pinochet as a dictator, and he has precious little support among the the younger generation. Only with the older generation is there a significant minority that defends the Pinochet era.

I raise this because I think many outsiders view the Pinochet trial as an inconclusive failure. He was never extradited to Spain. Despite numerous attempts, he was never convicted at home or abroad for his human rights violations. But the legacy of the extradition trials in Britain and criminal investigations in Chile have left a lasting impact on Pinochet’s reputation. The law students I had the privilege to interview uniformly condemned the man. The names of his victims are memorialized around the country. He was never convicted, but he stands condemned by the Chilean public.

“I Have a Dream”

by Roger Alford

Fifty years ago today, on the morning of August 28, 1963, Martin Luther King looked out from his suite at the Willard Hotel as crowds began mulling around the Washington monument. He had stayed up until four in the morning drafting and redrafting his speech. As King looked on, his aides were furiously typing the finished draft for distribution to the press. King’s greatest fear was that the march would turn violent. “If that happens,” King told Ralph Abernathy, “everything we have done in Birmingham will be wiped out in a single day.” Turn-out was a close second on King’s list of concerns. He had hoped for 100,000 marchers, but at the scheduled start date of 9:30 a.m., less than 25,000 had gathered at the Washington monument.

Within an hour the numbers surged to 90,000 with many more on the way. By the time entertainers had finished their warm-up act and the formal speeches began, the crowd exceeded 200,000. The following day the New York Times described it as “the greatest assembly for a redress of grievances that this capital has ever seen.”

The program called for ten speakers representing many of the leading civil rights, religious, and labor groups in the nation. The program started late and progressed slowly, with several spotty and uninspired speeches. The first speaker to capture the audience was young John Lewis, who gave a defiant jeremiad indicting “politicians who build their careers on immoral compromises and ally themselves with open forms of political, economic, and social exploitation.” Lewis demanded federal legislation that would provide real protection. “We are tired of being beaten by policemen. We are tired of seeing our people locked up in jail over and over again, and then you holler ‘Be patient.’ How long can we be patient? We want our freedom and we want it now.”

Roy Wilkins, executive-secretary of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, used humor to praise Kennedy’s bill by promising to “emancipate” Southern politicians from office if they did not support the civil rights bill. Mahalia Jackson, the Queen of Gospel, sang a Negro spiritual that brought the crowd to tears. Finally, Martin Luther King took the podium to a thunderous applause.

King began the speech by proclaiming that today would “go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.” He recalled the broken promises of the Emancipation Proclamation. “We’ve come to our nation’s capital to cash a check…. America has defaulted on this promissory note in so far as her citizens of color are concerned…. And so we’ve come to cash a check, a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of peace.” He warned of future civil rights demonstrations until these demands were met. He admonished his followers against “drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.” He praised redemptive suffering. He urged his listeners to go back home with the confidence, without “wallowing in the valley of despair.”

Then, midway through his speech, King went off script. He embarked on a theme he had preached many times before: the prophetic dream of a future harmonious America. For members of the civil rights movement, it was nothing new; King routinely preached that God would redeem America. But on this day, millions of Americans watched for the first time as a black preacher, the most eloquent one in the country, prophesied about a future day of racial reconciliation:

So I say to you, my friends, that even though we must face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed—we hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are equated equal.

I have a dream that one day one the red hills of Georgia, sons of former slaves and sons of former slave-owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day, even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, … one day, right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers. I have a dream today!

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places shall be made plain, and the crooked places shall be made straight and the glory of the Lord will be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.

The crowds were on their feet in thunderous applause. Millions watched that day, and the country was transfixed by the peaceful demands for racial equality. What could have been a day of violence and riots was a day of dignity and hope.

President Kennedy, after meeting with civil rights leaders, issued a statement praising the march. “One cannot help but be impressed with the deep fervor and the quiet dignity that characterizes the thousands who have gathered in the nation’s capital from across the country to demonstrate their faith and confidence in our democratic form of government.”

Linos Book Symposium: Comments by Roger Alford

by Roger Alford

I commend Katerina Linos’ book to our readers and echo the many positive comments that others in this book symposium have shared. Her theory of bottom-up democratic diffusion of norms addresses many of the concerns that have been voiced regarding the democracy deficit that occurs when policy elites borrow from abroad.

I want to push Katerina a bit on the question of actors involved in the diffusion process. She notes that “many academics, judges and commentators emphasize how references to foreign law reflect elite predilections antithetical to the views of ordinary voters, especially ordinary Americans.” (p.26). The context of that criticism, of course, is constitutional comparativism by the Supreme Court in cases such as Roper v Simmons and Lawrence v. Texas.

Almost ten years ago I too expressed concern about the countermajoritarian difficulty of the Court adopting international and foreign norms that run counter to American majoritarian values. As I put it in this article, “the international countermajoriatian difficulty would suggest that international norms cannot be internalized within our Constitution unless such norms are first internalized by our people as our community standards…. To conclude otherwise would grant countermajoritarian international norms constitutional relevance as a community standard.” (p. 59).

Katerina does not address constitutional comparativism per se, but she clearly voices her support for the democratic diffusion of norms. Her book presumes that “international norms and democracy are mutually reinforcing” and that “democratic processes are an engine, not an obstacle, for the spread of policies across countries.” (p.2). The book also presumes political rather than judicial avenues for the diffusion of norms, with elected politicians constrained to borrow from and reference large, rich, and proximate countries and prominent international organizations to advance their own policy preferences.

So my question for Katerina Linos is whether her theory of democratic diffusion supports or undermines arguments for constitutional comparativism. She explains at length how democratic diffusion occurs, but does not clearly indicate her preference for this type of diffusion over alternatives. Does her convincing case for democratic diffusion undermine undemocratic diffusion by policy elites in the judiciary who are unresponsive to and unconstrained by majoritarian preferences?

In short, does her theory posit that policy diffusion is better when it occurs through democratic processes than when it is imposed by judicial elites? To take concrete examples, is it better with controversial questions such as juvenile death penalty (Roper v. Simmons) or gay marriage (United States v. Windsor) for policy preferences to be advanced through democratic diffusion or judicial diffusion?

My own sense is that the Supreme Court experimented with policy diffusion of global norms through constitutional adjudication ten years ago, but has since retreated from that approach, and that democratic diffusion of global norms is the new normal. Indeed, just yesterday in Windsor the Court expressed its sensitivity to the democratic diffusion of norms with respect to gay marriage:

In acting first to recognize and then to allow same-sex marriages, New York was responding ‘to the initiative of those who [sought] a voice in shaping the destiny of their own times’…. The dynamics of state government in the federal system are to allow the formation of consensus respecting the way the members of a discrete community treat each other in their daily contact and constant interaction with each other…. For same-sex couples who wished to be married, the State acted to give their lawful conduct a lawful status. This status is a far-reaching legal acknowledgement of the intimate relationship between two people, a relationship deemed by the State worthy of dignity in the community equal with all other marriages. It reflects both the community’s considered perspective on the historical roots of the institution of marriage and its evolving understanding of the meaning of equality. (pp. 19-20).