Ever since my friends at Wronging Rights flagged the upcoming NBC series Crossing Lines, which is about an ICC police unit, I’ve been scouring the internet for more information about what will no doubt be an absolute train-wreck of a TV show. Tonight I found this:

Set in exotic locations around Europe, “Crossing Lines” follows a disgraced New York cop, played by William Fichtner, who finds redemption after joining an international police unit based at the Intl. Criminal Court in the Hague that investigates cross-border crimes and hunts down brutal criminals.

[snip]

“Fans of procedural crime shows will feel very much at home with this new team, but at the same time, the global setting will add a color and flavor to the show that will take audiences on a new and exciting ride.

“Crime has gone global like everything else in our lives and now there is a weekly procedural that dives into this world. At the end of the day, we’re all frightened and concerned about the same things and problems no longer tend to stay regionally contained for too long anymore.”

The series will tackle topical crimes and illicit global trades such as plutonium poisonings, serial killings, kidnappings, human trafficking and drug smuggling, added Bauer.

Where to begin? First, the ICC doesn’t have a police force, international or otherwise. (Perhaps the show should have been set in the OTP — which at least has investigators.) Second, international crimes do not have to be transnational. (Which is the whole point of genocide and crimes against humanity.) Third, the ICC does not have jurisdiction over poisonings (except in armed conflict), serial killing (unless its like Srebrenica), kidnappings (unless they’re like during the Dirty War), or drug smuggling (sorry, Trinidad & Tobago). Fourth, and finally, it will be a very chilly day in the bad place when the ICC investigates a crime committed in Europe.

Other than that, the show sounds completely accurate.

The Kenyan government has asked the Security Council to pass a resolution deferring the prosecution of Uhuru Kenyatta and William Ruto, the newly-elected President and Deputy President of Kenya. That’s not surprising; the Kenyan government has been doing everything in its power to undermine the ICC. What is surprising, though, is that Ruto has explicitly disavowed the request:

Through lawyer Karim Khan, Ruto says that the application neither represents government policy nor his personal wishes. In an interview with Capital FM News, Khan says that his client never had input in the application.

“His Excellency the Deputy President would like to dissociate himself with the application by ambassador Macharia Kamau as it does not represent his desire. He was never consulted in the making of the application and not in the presentation.

He said that Ruto who was sworn into office last month was committed to upholding the Constitution which included respect for independent institutions.

Khan said that President Uhuru Kenyatta – also indicted by the ICC – had also given his word on honoring international obligations.

Khan reiterated that the United Nations Security Council had no power to terminate proceedings saying that the ICC was an independent court. He said that it is only the ICC judges could make a decision on the termination of the cases or otherwise as the court, which he said had independent judges fully seized of the matter.

“The application is a distraction from the reality which is that no institution can interfere with the independence of the court. The judges have sworn an oath and they are the only ones who can make a decision on the matter,” he said.

He maintained that Ruto who had cooperated with the court since he was named among the suspects who have the greatest culpability in the 2007/08 post poll chaos will continue to cooperate with the court until he is vindicated.

Khan is wrong, of course, when he says that the Security Council cannot terminate the case. Article 16 of the Rome Statute gives the Security Council just that power — although it would have to pass a new deferral resolution each year, because Article 16 limits individual deferrals to 12-month increments.

That aside, Ruto’s statement raises some interesting questions. First, if Kenyatta agrees with Ruto, how can the “Kenyan government” be asking the Security Council to intervene? Reports indicate that the request was signed by Kenya’s ambassador to the UN — who presumably works for Kenyatta and Ruto. So it would seem that Kenyatta and Ruto would be well within their rights to withdraw the request. Does their failure to do so indicate that, in fact, Kenyatta and Ruto are not actually on the same page?

Second, why has Ruto disavowed the request? Color me skeptical that his opposition is motivated by a principled belief in the authority and legitimacy of international organizations. More likely, he simply believes that he is unlikely to be convicted — a not unreasonable assumption, given the many problems that have plagued, and continue to plague, the Kenya cases. If Ruto is confident of acquittal, his opposition to deferring the prosecution makes perfect sense: he will have much more freedom to operate as an acquitted war criminal than as an accused one. (See, e.g., Omar al-Bashir.)

We’ll see how this plays out.

UPDATE: Kenya’s Attorney General has now also disavowed the request. What is this, a UN Ambassador gone rogue?

Baher Azmy, the legal director of the Center for Constitutional Rights (CCR), has flagged a very interesting ATS case that is due to be re-argued in light of the Supreme Court’s recent — and much discussed here at Opinio Juris — decision in Kiobel. Here is CCR’s description of the case, Al Shimari v. CACI:

Al Shimari  v. CACI was originally brought against L-3 Services Incorporated (formerly Titan Corporation), CACI International Inc., and Timothy Dugan, a former employee of CACI.  CACI and L-3 Services were the U.S. government contractors responsible for interrogation and translation services, respectively, at Abu Ghraib prison and other facilities in Iraq. L-3 Services and Timothy Dugan have since been dismissed as Defendants in the case. The complaint alleges that CACI directed and participated in illegal conduct, including torture, at the Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq where it was hired by the U.S. to provide interrogation services.   The four Plaintiffs had all been held at the “hard site” in Abu Ghraib prison.

The suit, brought under the Alien Tort Statute (ATS) and federal question jurisdiction, brings claims arising from violations of U.S. and international law including torture; cruel, inhuman, or degrading treatment; war crimes; assault and battery; sexual assault and battery; intentional infliction of emotional distress; negligent hiring and supervision; and negligent infliction of emotional distress. There are also civil conspiracy and aiding and abetting counts attached to most of these charges.  Through this action, Plaintiffs seek compensatory and punitive damages.

Among the heinous acts to which the four Plaintiffs were subjected at the hands of the Defendant and certain government co-conspirators were: electric shocks; repeated brutal beatings; sleep deprivation; sensory deprivation; forced nudity; stress positions; sexual assault; mock executions; humiliation; hooding; isolated detention; and prolonged hanging from the limbs.

All of the Plaintiffs are innocent Iraqis who were ultimately released without ever being charged with a crime. They all continue to suffer from physical and mental injuries caused by the torture and other abuse.

CCR makes a strong argument in the relevant brief that Al Shimari is precisely the rare ATS lawsuit that can survive Kiobel. First, CCR argues that Kiobel‘s presumption against extraterritorial application of the ATS should not even apply in Al Shimari, because the conduct in question occurred in Iraq during the US occupation, a period in which (quoting Rasul) the US had “complete jurisdiction and control” over Abu Ghraib (recall that the Coalition Provisional Authority had “all executive, legislative, and judicial authority” over Iraq at this time), making it effectively US territory. The fact that the US was functioning as the sovereign in Iraq at the time of the relevant conduct, CCR also points out, means that allowing the lawsuit to proceed would be unlikely to result in “international discord” between the US and Iraq.

Second, CCR argues that the relevant conduct does indeed “touch and concern” the US “with sufficient force to displace the presumption against extraterritorial application.” It notes that CACI is a US corporation headquartered in the US; that CACI’s immunity from Iraqi legal process made it subject to US law; and that the conduct in question was directed from the US. It also notes that the US’s control over Abu Ghraib is — or should be — relevant to the “touch and concern” analysis.

Third, and finally, CCR claims that ATS lawsuits involving war crimes and torture should always be deemed to satisfy Kiobel, especially where — as in Al Shimari — the perpetrators of those crimes are present in the US. It argues that the potential for “international discord” is minor in such lawsuits, because war crimes and torture are types of conduct that all states are obligated to prevent and punish.

I am skeptical that CCR’s third argument will convince many federal courts post-Kiobel. Its first and second arguments, however, seem very compelling. I hope our resident and extraterritorial experts on the ATS will weigh in.

[Ingrid Wuerth is Professor of Law and Director of International Legal Studies at Vanderbilt University Law School.  You can reach her at:  Ingrid [dot] wuerth [at] vanderbilt [dot] edu.]

This post examines two aspects of the Fourth Circuit’s 2012 decision on remand in Yousuf v. Samantar.  Samantar has petitioned the Supreme Court for certiorari again, and the initial briefing on the cert. petition should conclude soon.  Now is accordingly an opportune time to examine the Fourth Circuit’s decision, which has attracted excellent blog commentary from John Bellinger and Curt Bradley at Lawfare and Bill Dodge here.  A Swiss criminal case against Khaled Nezzar raising some related issues is discussed by Gabriella Citrone at EJILTalk! and by Evelyne Schmid at intlawgrrls.

This post disagrees with some of the foregoing commentary, but it also endeavors to point readers to at least some of the arguments and scholarship on all sides of the debate.  It will not introduce the Samantar case or the basics of immunity, which have been discussed by other bloggers and here. This post discusses the role of executive immunity determination in U.S. litigation and some aspects of conduct based immunity (ratione materiae) before foreign national courts for alleged jus cogens violations.

1.  The Executive Branch and Immunity

The Fourth Circuit reasoned that with respect to head of state immunity the executive branch is entitled to absolute deference, but it receives only “substantial weight” for its determinations on conduct-based immunity. 699 F.3d at 772-73.   The executive branch has argued here (as in other cases) that for both kinds of immunity its determinations are binding on the courts, based in part on admiralty cases from the 1940’s.  Affording the government the power to control the outcome of litigation in federal court is in tension with Article III and inconsistent with many foreign relations cases in which the government is given little or no deference, including another area of federal common law:  the act of state doctrine. One potential basis for power to make determinations binding on the federal courts, however, is the President’s constitutional power to “receive Ambassadors and other public Ministers” which includes the power to recognize foreign heads of state.   The Fourth Circuit concluded that the President’s recognition power includes the power to make dispositive determinations of status but not conduct based immunity.    The court’s decision on conduct-based immunity is very significant and clearly right, I believe, for reasons set out here.

The Fourth Circuit’s conclusion that the executive does control status-based determination is wrong, in my view, despite the arguments by Chimene Keitner and Lewis Yelin.  The recognition power is a weak basis upon which to rest a general power over immunity because they are two very different determinations.  Recognition includes…

[Milena Sterio holds a dual J.D./maitrise en droit degree, and she is Associate Professor of Law at the Cleveland-Marshall College of Law, where she specializes in International Law and International Criminal Law.]

The Court of Appeal of Versailles, France, ruled last week on an important case regarding the civil liability of French companies for their role in the construction of a light rail tramway system in the Israeli-controlled West Bank.  The Versailles Court determined that the French companies’ participation in this construction project did not violate international law.  As this case has already sparked academic debate in the blogosphere (click here for excellent posts by Eugene Kontorovich and by Kevin Jon Heller), I will take this opportunity to discuss in more detail some of the legal issues involved, as well as to weigh in on the significance of the Versailles Court’s ruling.

The Jerusalem light rail system began operating in August 2011.  A French building conglomerate, Alstom Transport (as well as another company, called Veolia Transport; for the purposes of this post, I will refer to both of these as “Alstom” or “Alstom Transport” because the court’s discussion of legal issues and its ultimate ruling concerns both of these companies equally), had participated in the light rail’s construction, despite protests and political opposition to such participation in France.  The transaction, relevant for the purposes of the legal discussion below, was structured as follows: Alstom had formed an Israeli company, called Citypass, which then signed a general concession contract with the State of Israel.  Additionally, Alstom signed a series of separate construction contracts with Citypass.  Alstom was thus not a party to the general concession contract.  A pro-Palestinian group, Association France Palestine Solidarité (AFPS), filed a lawsuit against Alstom Transport in 2007 in a French lower court (Tribunal de Grande Instance de Nanterre); another pro-Palestinian organization, l’Organisation de Libération de la Palestine (OLP), later joined the lawsuit as co-plaintiff.

Plaintiffs argued that the French court should void Alstom’s construction contracts, because the general concession contract’s (between Citypass and Israel) object or purpose (“cause” in French) was illicit (because the State of Israel’s true motivation in the construction project was…

[Jordan Wells is a third-year law student at New York University School of Law.]

The discussion up to this point naturally has centered on the “touch and concern” language of the majority opinion and what that opinion and the concurrences mean for ATS cases involving law of nations violations that occur abroad.  Relatively little analysis has focused on the original questions on which the Supreme Court granted certiorari—namely, whether corporations are immune from suit under the ATS and whether that immunity is an issue of subject matter jurisdiction or an inquiry going to the merits.  Remember, the Second Circuit dismissed the case sua sponte based on these two premises.  In contrast, the D.C., Seventh, Ninth, and Eleventh Circuits have rejected corporate immunity under the ATS.

While many commentators quickly observed that the Court did not explicitly rule on corporate liability, the majority opinion at least tacitly assumes the existence of corporate liability.  As specific evidence of the Court’s recognition of corporate liability, some have pointed to one of the majority opinion’s concluding lines:  “Corporations are often present in many countries, and it would reach too far to say that mere corporate presence suffices.”  This sentence was quoted with approval in Justice Breyer’s concurrence.  The statement that a corporation’s mere presence does not suffice suggests that the inverse proposition is also likely to be true:  A corporation that is more than merely present in the United States – say, one that is domiciled in the United States or one that authorizes or ratifies a law-of-nations violation – could present a different case.  It would be pointless to draw this distinction unless, under some circumstances, the ATS countenanced corporate liability.

Whatever one’s take on corporate liability following Kiobel, I want to suggest that it probably is not an issue of subject matter jurisdiction (SMJ).  Although the Second Circuit’s dismissal was for lack of SMJ, and although the Supreme Court “affirmed” the judgment of the Second Circuit, it explicitly did so on other grounds. If those other grounds were non-jurisdictional, instead going to the merits, then the Court necessarily found SMJ.  See Steel Co. v. Citizens for a Better Env’t, 523 U.S. 83.  The question thus is whether the Supreme Court’s affirmance constituted a dismissal for lack of SMJ, or instead was a dismissal on the merits.

Contextual clues in the Chief Justice’s opinion—in particular, the application of the presumption against extraterritoriality (PAE)—indicate that the Court went beyond the issue of SMJ and reached aspects of the merits.  The Court concluded that “[o]n these facts,” the PAE barred relief in this case.  There are certain limited circumstances in which a federal court may dismiss on the basis of threshold issues before ascertaining its SMJ, see, e.g., Sinochem Int’l Co. Ltd. v. Malaysia Int’l Shipping Corp., 549 U.S. 422 (2007) (dismissal on ground of forum non conveniens), Ruhrgas AG v. Marathon Oil Co., 526 U.S. 574 (1999) (dismissal on grounds of personal jurisdiction), but the Supreme Court generally has treated the application of the PAE as going to the merits.  See, e.g., Morrison v. Nat’l Australia Bank Ltd., 130 S. Ct. 2869, 2877 (2010) (“[T]o ask what conduct § 10(b) reaches is to ask what conduct § 10(b) prohibits, which is a merits question.”); c.f. Burks v. Lasker, 441 U.S. 471, 476 (1979) (“[W]hether a cause of action exists is not a question of jurisdiction.”).  The Kiobel majority opinion does not depart from this understanding of the presumption’s application. See slip. op. at 5 (citing Morrison for proposition that “question of extraterritorial application was a ‘merits question,’ not a question of jurisdiction”).  The Court therefore appears to have dismissed the case on the merits, not for lack of SMJ.[1]

The fact that the ATS is “strictly jurisdictional” appears not to transform application of the PAE into a jurisdictional inquiry.  Although the Court does not use…

This according to the Commission of Inquiry on Syria, which has considerable investigative ability. Reuters:

(Reuters) – U.N. human rights investigators have gathered testimony from casualties of Syria’s civil war and medical staff indicating that rebel forces have used the nerve agent sarin, one of the lead investigators said on Sunday.

The United Nations independent commission of inquiry on Syria has not yet seen evidence of government forces having used chemical weapons, which are banned under international law, said commission member Carla Del Ponte.

“Our investigators have been in neighboring countries interviewing victims, doctors and field hospitals and, according to their report of last week which I have seen, there are strong, concrete suspicions but not yet incontrovertible proof of the use of sarin gas, from the way the victims were treated,” Del Ponte said in an interview with Swiss-Italian television.

“This was use on the part of the opposition, the rebels, not by the government authorities,” she added, speaking in Italian.

Recent news reports indicate that the Obama administration has been rethinking its opposition to arming the Syrian rebels. The Commission’s revelations, if true, not only complicate that idea but also deprive those who (in my view misguidedly) want to invoke the responsibility to protect to justify military intervention in Syria of one of their most potent rhetorical weapons. It’s easy to justify intervening in a civil war when one side is “good” and the other is “bad.” The situation is much more complicated, however, when a civil war involves two bad sides, even if one side — here, clearly the Syrian government — is worse than the other.

PS. As Ty McCormick points out at FP.com, the Commission’s findings would seem to validate Obama’s unwillingness to conclude — as demanded by the British, French, and Israelis — that the Syrian government has been responsible for using chemical weapons.

I’ve seen some strange reality TV in my time, but (mock) picking the next Palestinian head of state?

The hit show, called simply The President, has grown out of widespread frustration among Palestinians at their own moribund politics in the real world.

The current president of the Palestinian Authority, Mahmoud Abbas, remains in office four years after his mandate expired.

His party, Fatah, rules over the West Bank while in Gaza, Hamas, the Islamist movement labelled a terrorist organisation by many countries in the West, reigns – also years beyond the mandate it won in 2006.

The Palestinian assembly hasn’t met for many months. The roster of leaders hasn’t changed for decades.

Part Apprentice part X-Factor, viewers are gripped by a show in which they get to chose who should be their next president.

Enter Raed Othman, the director general of the Ma’an broadcast network.

“I thought of this programme because we have to show that the Palestinian people understand and want real democracy. We want elections – real elections. But if we cannot have them then we can do our own,” he said backstage during the filming of the latest episode of his show which has whittled 1,200 potential presidents to 16.

He added:  “There are a lot of people who say we don’t have leaders, so we need to prove to them that there are a lot of leaders in Palestine. We want to teach the people that democracy is possible whenever we want”.

Contestants are filmed taking on tasks – being an ambassador to a European country for a day, running a major corporation, taking questions from foreign and local journalists, even how to inspect guards of honour.

They are then put through the ringer by a panel of judges, among them leading politicians like Hannan Ashrawi, a former spokeswoman for the Arab League. Viewers combine votes sent in by text message with the judges’ marks in early rounds.

The winner doesn’t actually become President; he or she just gets a car. Then again, considering the sorry state of Palestinian politics, that’s probably a more desirable outcome.

Ari Fleischer, former Bush press secretary, explaining why terrorists are more dangerous than Nazis:

They [the Nazis] followed the law of war. They wore uniforms and they fought us on battlefields. These people are fundamentally, totally by design different. And they need to be treated in a different extrajudicial system.

Noted with horror but without comment.

Peter beat me to the punch in commenting on Samuel Moyn’s interesting take on the ATS and Kiobel in Foreign Affairs, but I’m going to add a somewhat different point from Peter’s about what the body of ATS law has meant over the past few decades. I didn’t intervene in the earlier discussion about Kiobel because that discussion seemed to me properly focused mostly on the internal legal aspects of the decision – everything from jurisdiction to state courts, and much else besides.  I want to raise something external to Kiobel and the ATS as “law” – the distinction between international law and what (in various postings here and there) I’ve referred to as the “law of the hegemon.”

One way of looking at the ATS, including the body of cases built up over the years, is that it is “international law.”  Of course that’s not literally true; it is a domestic statute that refers to international law as the basis of some form of liability; violations of treaties or the law of nations.  But in a broader sense – the sense in which its supporters have long seen it – the ATS offers a domestic law vehicle by which to work out, interpret, express and, perhaps most important, make effective the requirements of international law.

This is surely the sense that, for example, Judge Jack Weinstein had when he opened the ATS hearing in the Agent Orange case ten years ago – this court sits, he said, in some fashion as an international court.  Sitting in the courtroom, it was entirely plain that he both took seriously and took real pleasure in seeing this District Court as sitting in judgment on the same types of crimes as raised at Nuremberg. There are several practical problems for this broader view, of course – how to figure out the relationship between the domestic law piece of the statute and the international law piece, for one.

Another, however, is that if this is supposed to be the working out in some broad sense of “international law” in American courts and using the tools available to American law, how does one keep the link between international law and its sources, processes, standards of interpretation, etc., as they exist in the international arena – and the application of this in an American law setting that has its own sources of authority, standards of interpretation, etc.  It’s fine to say that the ATS is the working out of international law in US courts, but international law is made in the international framework and evolves according to things that are different from and quite alien to the American legal system.  A telling example of the problem is found simply in the status of US court cases interpreting the ATS and, in the process, interpreting features of international law in ways that bear little relationship to how the international community might do it, now or in the future.  Yet in an American domestic law system, those distinctively US cases have greater authority than the international authorities.

One can say that this is precisely the problem of the American court system in dealing with human rights cases; it ought to recognize the international law sources and authorities as such, rather than privileging its own processes.  But this is hard, given that plaintiffs want simultaneously to reach to the special features of the US litigation system to achieve their aims; those special features of the US litigation system include many things, such as civil liability, corporate liability, etc., that don’t obviously exist in the international system.  It isn’t likely that one can pick and choose in the most favorable way – whether one is the plaintiff or the defendant – and if you go with the American system, you take its doctrine of sources, methods of interpretation, and much else besides, even as it applies to international law questions.  But those don’t match up very well with how the “international” actors in international law see those fundamental questions.  The questions are not substantive or procedural in the usual sense – they are, rather, the fundamental doctrines of authority, precedent, methods of interpretation.

A better way of seeing the law of the ATS, it has long seemed to me, is to treat it not as a particular state’s working out of international law in its courts, but rather a quite different category.  It seems to me best understood as the hegemonic power working out the law of the hegemon in ways that are intended to be somewhat parallel to “international law” on these issues.  There is a shared impulse rooted in morality, but what the hegemon does is within the terms of its own legal system.  It depends in large part upon the extent to which the hegemonic power is willing to allow the capital of its power to be exercised roughly to these ends – and the extent to which other important actors are willing to go along as a sort of rough way of getting international law actually enforced. (more…)

I have no desire to get into an argument with Eugene Kontorovich about the ostensibly “landmark” decision of a French intermediate court — especially because, like him, I am far from fluent in French and the decision strikes me as quite legally complicated. But it is important to push back against claims like these (emphasis mine):

This is an extraordinarily important holding in light of the decades old-debate about the meaning of 49(6) in the context of Israeli civilian migration into the West Bank. It is in direct opposition to the political and international law position on settlements. In the standard narrative, any migration of Israeli Jews past the Green Line, or the expansion of their residences and communities once there, is a war crime. Thus when private citizens decides to buy or build a house across the Green Line, or even expand an existing one, it is a war crime.

Moreover, Israeli citizens who migrate to the West Bank are often said to be guilty of war crimes themselves as aiders-and-abettors. The Versailles decision would seem to reject such a position.

There are two significant problems here. First, despite emphasizing war crimes, Eugene’s post focuses solely on the Fourth Geneva Convention’s prohibition on the transfer of civilians into occupied territory; it simply ignores the Rome Statute’s very different war crime of direct or indirect transfer. Here is Art. 49(6) of GC IV (emphasis mine):

The Occupying Power shall not deport or transfer parts of its own civilian population into the territory it occupies.

And here is Article 8(2)(b)(viii) of the Rome Statute (emphasis mine):

(viii)     The transfer, directly or indirectly, by the Occupying Power of parts of its own civilian population into the territory it occupies, or the deportation or transfer of all or parts of the population of the occupied territory within or outside this territory.

To begin with, it’s worth noting that it is anything but self-evident that Art. 49(6) requires “actually organizing and moving population en masse (compare to individual transfers in 49.1),” as Eugene claims in the comments to his post. His analogy to the Nazis’ colonization of Poland and Ukraine — in which civilians “weren’t merely encouraged, but rounded up” — is misplaced, because unlike Art. 49(1), Art. 49(6) does not require the transfer of civilians to be forcible. Moreover, the war crime in question — Art. 8(2)(b)(viii) — even more clearly does not require “actually organizing and moving population en masse,” because it prohibits both direct and indirect transfer. Art. 8(2)(b)(viii) thus prohibits a much broader range of actions than Art. 46(1). And, of course, a violation of Art. 8(2)(b)(viii), unlike a violation of Art. 49(6), gives rise to individual criminal responsibility.

The second significant problem with Eugene’s post is that, in fact, the French intermediate court’s decision appears to say nothing at all about whether settlement activities qualify as war crimes. Given my French, I am loathe to conclude unequivocally that it does not. But the decision does not mention either the Statut de Rome or Art. 8(2)(b)(viii), nor does it mention crimes de guerre (war crimes) or transfert… indirect (indirect transfer) — two obviously critical expressions in the French version of the Rome Statute.

The French intermediate court’s decision may well be a landmark concerning corporate responsibility; I’m sure Eugene will tell us in his next post. But I think it is to safe to say that the decision tells us little, if anything, about whether Israel’s settlement activities qualify as the war crime of direct or indirect transfer of civilians into occupied territory.

Note: I have restructured the post for clarity.

I want to take a moment to spruik (if you don’t know the word, look it up!) Jeffrey Kahn‘s new book, Mrs. Shipley’s Ghost: The Right to Travel and Terrorist Watchlists, which has just been published by the University of Michigan Press. Here is the publisher’s description:

Today, when a single person can turn an airplane into a guided missile, no one objects to rigorous security before flying. But can the state simply declare some people too dangerous to travel, ever and anywhere? Does the Constitution protect a fundamental right to travel? Should the mode of travel (car, plane, or boat) or itinerary (domestic or international) make a constitutional difference? This book explores the legal and policy questions raised by government travel restrictions, from passports and rubber stamps to computerized terrorist watchlists.

In tracing the history and scope of U.S. travel regulations, Jeffrey Kahn begins with the fascinating story of Mrs. Ruth Shipley, a federal employee who almost single-handedly controlled access to passports during the Cold War. Kahn questions how far national security policies should go and whether the government should be able to declare some individuals simply too dangerous to travel. An expert on constitutional law, Kahn argues that U.S. citizens’ freedom to leave the country and return is a fundamental right, protected by the Constitution.

As an American who lives abroad but likes to see his family, I will avoid casting aspersions on terrorist watchlists. I’ll leave that to Jeff. Make sure to check out his book!