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Professor Jens David Ohlin of Cornell Law School will be guest blogging with us over the next two weeks. Many readers may know Jens from his blogging at Lieber Code and from his many articles on international criminal law, the laws of war, cyberwar, and comparative criminal law, among other topics. Jens is also the author or editor of four books,...

[François Delerue is Ph.D. researcher in International Law at the European University Institute (EUI - Florence, Italy) and visiting scholar at Columbia University (fall term 2014)] Article 2(4) of the UN Charter was revolutionary in its extension to the explicit prohibition of the threat of force, alongside the prohibition of the use of force. No cyber operation has ever been qualified as a threat or use of force by any States or international organizations; commentators are more nuanced and some consider certain cyber operations as likely to qualify as actual uses of force (see generally: Tallinn Manual p. 45; Marco Roscini pp. 53-55; Duncan Hollis). Most of the literature applying Article 2(4) to cyber operations focuses on the use of force and, therefore, the threat of cyber force remains understudied. In this blog post I endeavor to fill this gap by analyzing inter-state cyber operations according to the prohibition of threat of force. My main argument is that for most inter-state cyber operations the qualification as the threat of force is arguably more suitable than trying to qualify them as an actual use of force at any cost. I will develop successively the two main forms of threat of force: open threat of prohibited force and demonstration of force. A Threat of Prohibited Cyber Force As a Prohibited Threat of Force The International Court of Justice, in its Advisory Opinion on the Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons, confined the prohibition of the threat of force to the prohibition of the threat of the use of the prohibited force (para. 47). In other words, an unlawful threat is a conditional promise to resort to force in circumstances in which use of force would itself be unlawful. This form of threat of force is the most obvious one and can be implied directly from the wording of the UN Charter. Formulated by Ian Brownlie in 1963 (p. 364), this approach is nowadays the prevailing one on the threat of force. Applied to cyber operations, a threat of cyber force will violate the prohibition of Article 2(4) only if the threatened cyber force amounts to an unlawful use of force in the same circumstances. This is the contemporary leading approach among scholars and is, for instance, the approach followed by rule 12 of the Tallinn Manual: A cyber operation, or threatened cyber operation, constitutes an unlawful threat of force when the threatened action, if carried out, would be an unlawful use of force. Is a general threat to resort to force enough to constitute a violation of the prohibition of Article 2(4)? The answer is unequivocally yes. Most verbal or written threats of force constitute a general threat of force, without specification on which kind of force might be use. It seems most likely that threat of force will remain mainly general, and cyber force will be one of the possible options to be used by the threatening State. Demonstration of Cyber Force As a Prohibited Threat of Force Demonstration of cyber force constitutes the second form of threat of force. In contrast to an open threat of force, a demonstration of force is constituted by acts instead of words performed by a State. Force may be demonstrated in many ways: notably in military acts – such as deployment of troops, manoeuvres, nuclear arms build-ups or testing – showing the readiness of a State to resort to force against another. In the literature on the threat of cyber force, demonstration of force is sometimes analyzed but remains for the most part neglected and understudied. Most cyber operations fail to qualify as an actual use of force; however, could they constitute a demonstration of force amounting to a prohibited threat of force? I will use recent examples of cyber operations to answer this question. Large-Scale Distributed Denial of Service Attacks As a Demonstration of Force A distributed denial of service (DDoS) attack is a cyber attack, which aims to make a machine or network resource unavailable by flooding it with requests from compromised systems. Could such a large-scale DDoS attack amount to a demonstration of force? The answer seems to be positive under certain conditions. In April 2007, Estonia faced violent street protests by a minority group of Russian descent objecting to the removal of World War II bronze statue of a Soviet soldier. Simultaneously, the country experienced multiple cyber operations, notably large-scale DDoS attacks on the websites and servers of private and public institutions. The Estonian government accused Russia of the cyber attacks; Russia, however, denied any involvement. As Estonia is highly connected and extremely dependent on its computer infrastructure, these cyber operations were able to paralyze a large part of the Estonian economy, media and government. Could these cyber operations constitute a use of force? Estonia explored initially the possibility to invoke Article 5 of the North Atlantic Treaty and thus to treat these cyber operations as an ‘armed attack’[1] triggering ‘the right of individual or collective self-defence’; however, this solution was quickly ruled out (see e.g. Mary E. O’Connell pp. 192-193; see also: here and here). While neither Estonia nor other States considered those cyber operations as a use or threat of force, could these cyber operations constitute a credible threat of force? Their consequences resulted in the partial paralysis of the State, limiting the ability of the country to respond in case of military action. Moreover, they occurred in fractured relations between the targeted State and the presumed threatening State, rendering any threat of force more credible. It seems, as a result, that those cyber operations could be considered as potential preluding measures to a use of force. They could thus be considered as a demonstration of force violating the prohibition of threat of force of Article 2(4). The Estonian example demonstrates that a large-scale DDoS attack against an Internet-dependent State could constitute a threat of force. However, not all DDoS attacks might be that easy to qualify as a demonstration of force. In the case of similar cyber operations faced by Georgia before the 2008 Russo-Georgian War, the conclusion might be more nuanced. Unlike Estonia, Georgia is not highly dependent on the Internet; therefore the consequences of cyber operations were limited and resulted mainly in the inability for the Georgian Government to access its websites and use them to communicate. As a result, the qualification of a threat of force seems difficult and probably excessive for this situation.

Your weekly selection of international law and international relations headlines from around the world: Africa Suspected Islamists raided the remote northeast Nigerian town of Damboa over the weekend, shooting dead more than 40 residents and burning down houses in a familiar pattern of killing that has forced tens of thousands to flee their homes this year. South Sudanese rebels and government soldiers clashed...

Announcements A one-day conference on the UN Migrant Workers Convention will be held at the European Inter-University Centre for Human Rights and Democratisation in Venice on Monday, 28 July. The conference, which boasts a stellar line-up of speakers, will take place in the 12th century monastery of San Nicolò and is free and open to the public.  Workshop: Foreign Investment in the Services Sector. A workshop...

This week on Opinio Juris, we kicked off the second edition of our Emerging Voices symposium with a post by Zachary Clopton on the horizontal and vertical dimensions of international law in U.S. Courts, followed by Abel Knottnerus' post on rule 134quater. Julian clarified last week's post on Taiwan and argued that "lawfare" will not deter China in the South China Sea. He...

[Abel S. Knottnerus is a PhD Researcher in International Law and International Relations at the University of Groningen.] In November 2013, the Assembly of States Parties adopted Rule 134quater. Under the pressure of African States, the ASP agreed that the Trial Chamber should be able to excuse an accused from continuous presence at trial, when the accused “is mandated to fulfil extraordinary public duties at the highest national level”.
Rule 134quater 1. An accused subject to a summons to appear who is mandated to fulfill extraordinary public duties at the highest national level may submit a written request to the Trial Chamber to be excused and to be represented by counsel only; the request must specify that the accused explicitly waives the right to be present at the trial. 2. The Trial Chamber shall consider the request expeditiously and, if alternative measures are inadequate, shall grant the request where it determines that it is in the interests of justice and provided that the rights of the accused are fully ensured. The decision shall be taken with due regard to the subject matter of the specific hearings in question and is subject to review at any time.
While this amendment was welcomed by the international community – and most notably by the UK, the US and the AU – several commentators questioned its consistency with the Statute, and in particular with Articles 27.1 (“irrelevance of official capacity”) and 63.1 (“the accused shall be present during the trial”). An amendment to the Rules of Procedure and Evidence (RPE) may not extend the scope of Statute (Articles 51.4 and 51.5), but that is exactly what Rule 134quater seemed to do by deviating from the conditions that the Appeals Chamber (25 October 2013) had laid down for the Trial Chamber’s discretion to excuse an accused from continuous presence at trial. For this reason, Kevin Jon Heller predicted that the new Rule would “probably not” survive judicial review. So what happened? Did Rule 134quater pass the scrutiny of the Court’s Judges? Submission Prosecution Almost immediately after the ASP, Ruto submitted an excusal request under the new Rule, which essentially said that the Trial Chamber should excuse him for as long as he would be Vice-President. Rule 134quater would allow the Chamber to excuse an accused who fulfils extraordinary public duties from all trial hearings, because it would omit a restriction to the duration of an excusal. The Prosecution responded by questioning the consistency of this interpretation of Rule 134quater with the Statute. Remarkably, the Prosecution did not challenge the validity of the amendment, but argued that the new Rule could not “overrule the Appeals Chamber’s interpretation” (para. 30). In applying Rule 134quater, the Trial Chamber would have to respect all the conditions that the Appeals Chamber had listed, including that an excusal must be limited to what is strictly necessary. In addition, the Prosecution claimed that Ruto’s interpretation of Rule 134quater would be inconsistent with the equal treatment principle, which is set down in Articles 27.1 and 21.3 (the Statute shall be interpreted and applied “without any adverse distinction”). If the new rule would allow an accused to skip all hearings for as long as he or she is (Deputy-) Head of State, it “would create a regime under which two accused seeking the same relief … would be treated differently, based only on official capacity” (para. 3). The Prosecution argued that Rule 134quater would only be consistent with the equal treatment principle, if the amendment would be read as emphasizing the duties of the individual instead of the office that the accused fulfils. Finally, the excusal request would fail to distinguish Ruto’s extraordinary public duties from the “normal, day-to-day duties” that the Kenyan Vice-President has to perform. The Prosecution maintained that dealing with the aftermath of a terrorist attack (like the Westgate Mall bombing) would be an extraordinary public duty, but “opening new roads or welcoming a foreign dignitary would not be” (para. 41). For all these reasons, the Trial Chamber would have to decline Ruto’s request for a “blanket excusal” (para. 38). 

On Wednesday, a Dutch Court handed down a hotly anticipated decision on the Mothers of Srebrenica case, finding the Dutch state responsible for the deaths of 300 people who were sheltering with Dutchbat in July 1995, when the safe haven at Srebrenica fell.  The English translation is available here. This ruling means the relatives of those 300 Bosniaks will be entitled...

That's the question asked by the blog of Oxford University Press. All of the short answers, provided by scholars ranging from Ruti Teitel to Bill Schabas, are worth a read. Here's mine: In my view, it is time to begin to question whether the International Criminal Court will ever play a major role in the fight against impunity. This is not...

There are many dads who have played make-believe with their little girls, perhaps taking the part of kindly king to his daughter's princess.  Not many people have turned this game into an international legal incident concerning state formation.  But  at least one man has. According to the Washington Post:
Jeremiah Heaton was playing with his daughter in their Abingdon, Va., home last winter when she asked whether she could be a real princess. Heaton, a father of three who works in the mining industry, didn’t want to make any false promises to Emily, then 6, who was “big on being a princess.” But he still said yes. “As a parent you sometimes go down paths you never thought you would,” Heaton said. Within months, Heaton was journeying through the desolate southern stretches of Egypt and into an unclaimed 800-square-mile patch of arid desert. There, on June 16 — Emily’s seventh birthday — he planted a blue flag with four stars and a crown on a rocky hill. The area, a sandy expanse sitting along the Sudanese border, morphed from what locals call Bir Tawil into what Heaton and his family call the “Kingdom of North Sudan.” There, Heaton is the self-described king and Emily is his princess.
Wow. Heaton just upped the ante for all non-royal dads. The Washington Post also reports:
Heaton says his claim over Bir Tawil is legitimate. He argues that planting the flag — which his children designed — is exactly how several other countries, including what became the United States, were historically claimed. The key difference, Heaton said, is that those historical cases of imperialism were acts of war while his was an act of love. “I founded the nation in love for my daughter,” Heaton said.
That’s sweet. Really. But let’s turn to the international legal argument…

[Zachary Clopton is the Public Law Fellow at the University of Chicago Law School.] For decades, scholars and practitioners of international law in the United States have focused on the federal courts.  The combination of diversity, alienage, federal question, and Alien Tort Statute (ATS) jurisdiction largely justified this focus.  But in the wake of decisions such as Morrison and Kiobel, some of these scholars and practitioners have turned to state courts and state law to vindicate international norms (1, 2).  To give one example, New York state courts are adjudicating foreign-law claims against the Bank of China arising from its alleged facilitation of Hamas and Palestine Islamic Jihad attacks in Israel. The attention to states may prove to be a positive development, but notably it has tended to rely on judicially created rights—common law claims under state or foreign law, or customary international law.  What about state political branches?  Is there is a role for governors and state legislatures, and should internationalists spend some of their energy lobbying these state-level political actors? From a policy perspective, as well as from a doctrinal and constitutional one, international litigation in U.S. courts raises both horizontal (separation of powers) and vertical (federalism) questions.  Although some judges and scholars object to international law in all of its forms, and others applaud any expanded role for international law, acknowledging the independent horizontal and vertical dimensions opens up more nuanced options.

Last year's inaugural Emerging Voices symposium was a big success, so today we’re kicking off our second annual edition. Through mid-August, we will be bringing you a wide variety of posts written by graduate students, early-career practitioners and academics. Tune in over the next several weeks if you'd like to read more about litigation of international law in domestic courts, interstate arbitration, statelessness, and rape as a war crime--to...