I’m delighted to announce the publication of two new essays. The first is “The Use and Abuse of Analogy in IHL,” which is a chapter in Jens’s edited book for CUP, “Theoretical Boundaries of Armed Conflict and Human Rights.”
I’m very proud of the essay — and all of the contributions to the book are excellent.
The second publication is my article “Radical Complementarity,” which has just appeared in the Journal of International Criminal Justice. Here is the abstract:
In March 2015, a domestic court in Côte d’Ivoire sentenced Simone Gbagbo to 20 years in prison for disturbing the peace, organizing armed gangs and undermining state security — a sentence considerably longer than any sentence imposed by the International Criminal Court (ICC) and twice as long as the Ivorian prosecutors requested. The Court has nevertheless held that Gbagbo’s case remains admissible, because her domestic prosecution was not based on the same conduct as the conduct underlying the crimes against humanity charges issued by the Office of the Prosecutor. This article argues that the Court’s decision in Simone Gbagbois inconsistent with the principle of complementarity. Section 1 criticizes the Court’s jurisprudence concerning Article 17’s ‘same person’ requirement, arguing that the test the judges use to determine whether a state is investigating a particular suspect is both inconsistent with the ICC Statute and far too restrictive in practice. Section 2 explains why the ‘same conduct’ requirement is antithetical to the goals underlying complementarity and should be rejected as a matter of law. The article thus defends what we might call ‘radical complementarity’: the idea that as long as a state is making a genuine effort to bring a suspect to justice, the ICC should find his or her case inadmissible regardless of the conduct the state investigates or the prosecutorial strategy the state pursues.
The published version differs substantially from the one I posted a while back on SSRN. You can find the article here.
July 23rd, 2016 - 1:08 PM EDT | Comments Off on Self-Aggrandizement Alert: Two New Publications http://opiniojuris.org/2016/07/23/self-aggrandization-alert-two-new-publications/ |
It is a great pleasure to contribute to this multi-blog series on the ICRC’s newly-released Commentary on the First Geneva Convention (GC I). Sean Murphy is right that GC I might seem “of lesser significance” than the Third and Fourth Geneva Conventions (GC III and GC IV) – and there is no question that IHL scholars everywhere will eagerly await the ICRC’s Commentaries on those Conventions. But that does not detract from the importance of this first Commentary, which represents a remarkable achievement in its own right. As the Introduction notes, the authors of this new Commentary had to analyze nearly seven decades of state practice, a massive and unenviable task. Moreover, they had to address some of the most contentious issues in IHL, such as the scope of application of Common Article 3 (CA 3). Indeed, I have little doubt that the Commentary’s overall Common Article 3 discussion – which runs to 907 paragraphs, approximately 800 more than its 1952 predecessor! – will attract considerable scholarly attention (and cause considerable academic controversy) in the coming years.
For my part, I generally agree with Murphy’s and Jean-Marie Henckaerts’ comments about the ICRC’s methodological approach in the Commentary. But I think Henckaerts actually underplays one of the most encouraging aspects of the ICRC’s methodology: its willingness to make liberal recourse to travaux preparatoires when interpreting provisions of GC I. Here is paragraph 49 in the Introduction:
Indeed, it seems logical for a thorough examination of all the issues to look at the preparatory work even if the general rule of interpretation yields a satisfactory result. It also helps the commentator to understand ‘the terms of the treaty in their context’ which is a requirement under the general rule (see Article 31(1) and (2) of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties). Recourse to the preparatory work is particularly important when no recent practice on a topic can be found, such as for Articles 33 and 34 of the First Convention dealing with the fate of buildings and material of medical units of the armed forces and aid societies after they fall into enemy hands.
This is a refreshing deviation from VCLT orthodoxy about travaux preparatoires being unnecessary when the “ordinary meaning” of treaty terms is ostensibly clear. As Julian Mortenson has shown, that orthodox view of the VCLT is impossible to reconcile with the treaty’s own history, because “the drafters repeatedly reiterated that any serious effort to understand a treaty should rely on a careful and textually grounded resort to travaux, without embarrassment or apology.” Indeed, scholars all too often use a treaty’s supposed “ordinary meanings” as a vehicle to substitute their own political preferences for the will of the states that drafted and concluded it.
I also agree with Henckaerts and Murphy concerning the central role that the ICRC plays in interpreting the Geneva Conventions – the “guardian and promoter of IHL,” in Henckaerts’ words. But that role poses a danger that needs to be openly acknowledged: namely, that those who use the Commentary – soldiers and scholars alike – will be tempted to uncritically accept the ICRC’s interpretation of GC I. There is no question that the authors of the Commentary are among the world’s most expert IHL practitioners and scholars, but they are neither infallible nor objective. On the contrary, both the experts and the ICRC as an institution have political and legal commitments that cannot help but influence how they interpret GC I. That does not mean that their interpretations should be discarded. It does not even mean their interpretations should always be viewed with a skeptical eye. But it does mean that IHL scholars should be willing to challenge the Commentary when they believe that the ICRC is wrong.
To be clear, I am in no way suggesting bias or bad faith on the part of the Commentary’s authors. I am simply pointing out that interpretation is an inherently indeterminate, subjective, and political activity, which means that it matters a great deal who is doing the interpreting. And there is no escaping the fact that the members of the Editorial Committee, the ICRC Project Team, and the Reading Committee come exclusivelyfrom states in the Global North – most from states in Western Europe. Again, that does not mean that the Commentary is wrong on any particular point. Moreover, to the ICRC’s credit, the Commentary’s peer-review group, who “reviewed the drafts and provided comments in their personal capacity,” included individuals from dozens of states in the Global South. But it is nevertheless regrettable that the primary authors and reviewers of the Commentary are so geographically homogenous – especially given that the states they represent rarely if ever experience the kind of conflict that is subject to Common Article 3.
Finally, I want to flag a very odd statement in the Commentary, paragraph 10 in the Introduction:
In addition, what sets the updated Commentaries mandated by the ICRC apart from other academic commentaries is that the contributors were able to draw on research in the ICRC archives, while respecting their confidential nature, to assess the application and interpretation of the Conventions and Protocols since their adoption.
I have no doubt this is true – but I find it somewhat troubling to know that the ICRC’s interpretation of GC I is based on evidence that cannot be subjected to scholarly criticism. I hope the ICRC will say more about its reliance on non-public information in future Commentaries, which will deal with even more controversial aspects of IHL.
July 22nd, 2016 - 3:49 AM EDT | Comments Off on Multi-Blog Series: First Thoughts from Academia on the Updated GCI Commentary http://opiniojuris.org/2016/07/22/multi-blog-series-first-thoughts-on-the-updated-gci-commentary-from-academia/ |
Sean D. Murphy, Professor of International Law at George Washington University and Member of the U.N. International Law Commission, considers the role of the ICRC commentaries as a matter of treaty law, customary international law, and practical lawyering.
For a crime to amount to a crime against humanity, it must be shown to have been part of a bigger picture, namely part of a widespread or systematic attack against a civilian population. The requirement that an attack be against a “civilian population” has created some uncertainty as to whether persons who are hors de combat can be victims of the crime.
Case law is peppered with discussion as to whether those who are hors de combat are “civilians” or constitute members of the “civilian population” for the purposes of crimes against humanity. Careful examination of this jurisprudence reveals that international criminal courts and tribunals, particularly the ad hoc tribunals, have taken different approaches to this issue.
The International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia’s (ICTY) case law has taken a meandering path. Some cases have endeavoured to include those who are hors de combat within the notion of “civilian” (see for example, Kordić and Čerkez (.pdf), para. 421), whereas others have sought to include them within the notion of “civilian population” (see, for example, Naletilić and Martinović(.pdf), para. 235). The issue was ultimately resolved by the ICTY Appeals Chamber in two cases: Martić (.pdf) and Mrškić (.pdf). The Trial Chambers in both cases (rightly) held that persons hors de combat are not civilian for the purposes of Article 5 of the ICTY Statute (the provision of the Statute concerning crimes against humanity). This was confirmed on appeal. However, both Appeals Chambers held that the chapeau requirement of Article 5 does not require that the individual criminal acts be committed against civilians, but rather that it serves to emphasise the collective nature of the crime. Thus, providing the chapeau requirement is fulfilled, and that there has been a widespread and systematic attack against a civilian population, individual victims who are hors de combat can be victims of the crime (Martić Appeal Judgment paras 303-314; Mrškić Appeal Judgment, para. 33).
The International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR) has taken a different approach. In Akayesu (.pdf), the Trial Chamber found that persons hors de combat are members of the civilian population for the purposes of crimes against humanity. This finding was followed, with zero to minimal discussion, in subsequent cases before the tribunal.
The different approaches of the ad hoc tribunals on this matter can lead to very different outcomes. Adopting the ICTY’s approach means that an attack directed purely against persons hors de combat does not amount to a crime against humanity. Indeed, this was found to have been the case in Mrškić, where the attack had been solely against the persons who were hors de combat and did not form part of a wider attack against a civilian population. The Appeals Chamber held that the attack did not therefore amount to a crime against humanity.
Following the ICTR’s approach, on the other hand, would mean that persons hors de combat are included within the notion of “civilian population” and constitute victims of the crime even if the attack is only against them. Thus, the persons hors de combat in the Mrškić case would have been eligible victims of the crime.
If one weighs up the two different approaches, the ICTY’s presents itself as being the most logical and thoroughly considered. Nevertheless, it leaves a certain amount of dissatisfaction, and it makes one wonder whether there is a need for a “civilian population” element within the definition of crimes against humanity at all.
As it stands at the moment, following the ICTY approach at least, the civilian population requirement means that attacks that are purely against persons hors de combat cannot amount to crimes against humanity. Certainly, such acts could be prosecuted as war crimes, as indeed happened in the Mrškić case, but this fails to adequately reflect the gravity of the offence, and ignores the symbolic nature that a charge of crimes against humanity has.
The reference to “civilian population” does help to emphasise the collective nature of the crime, but this is arguably adequately reflected in the “widespread or systematic attack” element. Future definitions of the crime could omit reference to a “civilian” population in the chapeau requirement, replacing it with “population.” Naturally, any court interpreting the chapeau requirement would have to bear IHL in mind and ensure that legitimate attacks against military personnel were not erroneously found to be crimes against humanity.
The “civilian population” requirement should no longer be considered a necessary element to find an act is a crime against humanity. Discarding the civilian population” requirement would mean that attacks that are purely against persons hors de combat can be prosecuted as crimes against humanity and can receive the recognition they deserve.
July 4th, 2016 - 8:00 AM EDT | Trackbacks(1)|3 Comments » http://opiniojuris.org/2016/07/04/is-the-requirement-that-crimes-against-humanity-be-committed-against-a-civilian-population-really-necessary/ |
To kick off the series, Jean-Marie addresses critical questions surrounding the commentaries such as: Where do the ICRC Commentaries fit into the legal landscape? What are the rules governing treaty interpretation and how do they operate in the area of IHL? Where does the ICRC’s legitimacy to interpret the Geneva Conventions stem from?
Read the full post on the ICRC’s Humanitarian Law & Policy Blog.
The updated Commentaries are an interpretive compass emerging from more than 60 years of application and interpretation of the Geneva Conventions. Over the rest of 2016, several academic blogs are hosting a joint series that brings to light the significance of the updated Commentary on the First Geneva Convention.
In March, the ICRC released an updated Commentary on the First Geneva Convention of 1949 (GCI). This is the first instalment of six new Commentaries aimed at bringing the interpretation of the Geneva Conventions and their Additional Protocols of 1977, to the 21st century.
This multi-blog venture is divided into three episodes, each of which focusing on a GCI provision – or a theme within a set of provisions – whose application and/or interpretation have evolved and give rise to debate among States and commentators. For each phase, the three blogs will invite one author to either initiate the conversation or act as respondent. The three episodes are respectively scheduled for this summer, fall and winter 2016.
The blogs will be regularly updated with past and upcoming posts, along with an evolving publication calendar. To kick off the series, Humanitarian Law & Policy will invite Jean-Marie Henckaerts, Head of the Update Project at ICRC, by locating the GCI Updated Commentary into the legal landscape and applying the rules on treaty interpretation to the Geneva Conventions. Expect the post by the end of this month on this website, or get it directly in your mailbox.
Bringing the Pictet’s Commentary’s Legacy Into the 21st Century
In 2011 the ICRC embarked on a major project intended at updating its original Commentaries, drafted under the general editorship of Jean Pictet in the 1950s (for the Conventions), and of Yves Sandoz and other ICRC lawyers in the 1980s (for the Protocols).
Since their publication, these commentaries have become an authoritative interpretative guide for States, armed forces, national and international courts, academics and civil society. However, in order to remain relevant, they needed to be updated to reflect more than 60 years of subsequent developments in applying and interpreting the Geneva Conventions. With the release of the Commentary on GCI, an important milestone has been reached, with key findings related to GCI-specific articles but also common articles governing the scope of application of the Conventions and their enforcement.
The initial edition of the Commentaries mostly provided historical context for the adoption of the Conventions and their Additional Protocols, drawing on the negotiation process of the treaties, as well as practice prior to their adoption. In this respect, they retain their historic value. The updated Commentary builds on and preserves those elements that are still relevant, while incorporating more than six decades of application and interpretation of the Conventions – 40 years in the case of the 1977 Additional Protocols. Capturing the evolution of warfare and humanitarian challenges, as well as technological and legal developments, led to many additions but also updates.
The multi-faceted nature and complexities of today’s armed conflicts have also resulted in more elaborated interpretations on the scope of application of the law in armed conflict. The new Commentary aims to capture key elements of the ongoing debate about where, when, and to whom IHL applies, setting out the view of the ICRC while also indicating other interpretations.
The Commentary provides important clarifications on key aspects of the legal regime governing the protection of the wounded and sick in armed conflict. On the obligation to respect and protect the wounded and sick, it addresses issues ranging from taking their presence into account in a proportionality assessment when planning attacks, to the general obligation to have medical services in the first place. On the protection owed to medical personnel, it gives details on the conditions under which such protection may be lost. The new GCI Commentary also captures changes in the regulation of offers of services by impartial humanitarian organizations, on the dissemination of IHL, and on criminal repression. It also adds a number of subject matters, such as the prohibition of sexual violence and non-refoulement.
For more on the updated Commentaries project, see the Humanitarian Law and Policy’s post here.
June 22nd, 2016 - 11:28 AM EDT | Comments Off on Introducing the First Multi-Blog Series on the Updated Geneva Conventions Commentaries http://opiniojuris.org/2016/06/22/introducing-the-first-multi-blog-series-on-the-updated-geneva-conventions-commentaries/ |
Liyla and the Shadows of War is a short, dark game about exactly what the title implies. You play as a father running home through a war zone attempting to collect his family and get them to safety as the bombs fall and the drone strikes mow down anything that moves.
At the start I navigated a few platforming sections, figured out how to avoid gunfire, made a couple of story choices, and even did a simple auto-run section where I had to control the jumping of two characters simultaneously. Of the 30-ish minutes of using the app, this was about 28 or so. The final two minutes (and it might have been less, I wasn’t running a timer) were spent reading.
The gaming community is mocking Apple’s decision, and rightfully so. As Hardcore Gamer points out, “Liyla and the Shadow of War is a game. Having a serious message about a real-world conflict doesn’t make it any less so, and it’s insulting not just to the developers but to gaming in general to say otherwise.” Indeed, there is no way Apple actually believes that Liyla and the Shadow of War isn’t a game; it simply doesn’t want to host a game developed by a Palestinian that encourages thinking critically about Israel’s violence toward Palestinians. But rejecting the game on political grounds would itself be seen as political — correctly — so Apple comes up with a ridiculous pretext for rejecting it and hopes nobody notices.
I know what you’re thinking: doesn’t Apple has the right to avoid “political” games? Isn’t it smart business to stay out of the Israel/Palestine conflict?
Liyla and the Shadow of War is still available for Android on Google Play. I haven’t tried it yet, but it has a 4.9 average from 333 reviews, so it’s obviously good. Check it out. Maybe you’ll have fun playing and learn something about life in Palestine in the process.
Which is precisely what Apple doesn’t want you to do.
I read with great interest Jens’s excellent post about whether the US attack on the MSF hospital in Kunduz was a war crime. I agree with much of what he says, particularly about the complexity of that seemingly innocuous word “intent.” But I am not completely convinced by his argument that reading intent in the Rome Statute to include mental states other than purpose or dolus directus would necessarily collapse the distinction between the war crime of intentionally directing attacks against a civilian population and the war crime of launching a disproportionate attack. Here is the crux of Jens’s argument:
In the civilian tradition, the concept of intent is a wider category that in some circumstances might include recklessness. This equation sounds odd to a common-law trained criminal lawyer, because to an American student of criminal law, intent and recklessness are fundamentally different concepts. But just for the sake of argument, what would happen if intent were given this wider meaning? Could the U.S. service members be prosecuted for intentionally directing an attack against the civilian population because “intentionally” includes lower mental states such as dolus eventualis or recklessness?
I worry about this argument. And here’s why. If intent = recklessness, then all cases of legitimate collateral damage would count as violations of the principle of distinction, because in collateral damage cases the attacker kills the civilians with knowledge that the civilians will die. And the rule against disproportionate attacks sanctions this behavior as long as the collateral damage is not disproportionate and the attack is aimed at a legitimate military target. But if intent = recklessness, then I see no reason why the attacking force in that situation couldn’t be prosecuted for the war crime of intentionally directing attacks against civilians, without the court ever addressing or analyzing the question of collateral damage. Because clearly a soldier in that hypothetical situation would “know” that the attack will kill civilians, and knowledge is certainly a higher mental state than recklessness. That result would effectively transform all cases of disproportionate collateral damage into violations of the principle of distinction and relieve the prosecutor of the burden of establishing that the damage was indeed disproportionate, which seems absurd to me.
I don’t want to focus on recklessness, because it isn’t criminalised by the Rome Statute. The lowest default mental element in Art. 30 is knowledge, which applies to consequence and circumstance elements — “awareness that a circumstance exists or a consequence will occur in the ordinary course of events.” So Jens’s real worry, it seems to me, is that reading the “intentionally” in “intentionally directing attacks against a civilian population” to include knowledge would mean a proportionate attack could be prosecuted as an intentional attack on a civilian population as long as the attacker was aware that civilians would be harmed “in the ordinary course of events” — a state of affairs that will almost always be the case, given that an attacker will engage in a proportionality assessment only when he knows that civilians will be incidentally affected by the planned attack on a military objective.
I’m not sure I agree. As I read it, the war crime of “intentionally directing attacks against a civilian population” consists of two material elements: a conduct element and a circumstance element. (There is no consequence element, because the civilians do not need to be harmed.) The conduct element is directing an attack against a specific group of people. The circumstance element is the particular group of people qualifying as a civilian population. So that means, if we apply the default mental element provisions in Art. 30, that the war crime is complete when (1) a defendant “means to engage” in an attack against a specific group of people; (2) that specific group of people objectively qualifies as a civilian population; and (3) the defendant “is aware” that the specific group of people qualifies as a civilian population. Thus understood, the war crime requires not one but two mental elements: (1) intent for the prohibited conduct (understood as purpose, direct intent, or dolus directus); (2) knowledge for the necessary circumstance (understood as oblique intent or dolus indirectus).
Does this mean that an attacker who knows his attack on a military objective will incidentally but proportionately harm a group of civilians commits the war crime of “intentionally directing attacks against a civilian population” if he launches the attack? I don’t think so. The problematic element, it seems to me, is not the circumstance element but the conduct element: although the attacker who launches a proportionate attack on a legitimate military objective knows that his attack will harm a civilian population, he is not intentionally attacking that civilian population. The attacker means to attack only the military objective; he does not mean to attack the group of civilians. They are simply incidentally — accidentally — harmed. So although the attacker has the mental element necessary for the circumstance element of the war crime (knowledge that a specific group of people qualifies as a civilian population) he does not have the mental element necessary for its conduct element (intent to attack that specific group of people). He is thus not criminally responsible for either launching a disproportionate attack or intentionally directing attacks against a civilian population.
To be sure, this analysis is probably not watertight. But I think it’s based on the best interpretation of the war crime of “intentionally directing attacks against a civilian population.” The key, in my view, is that the crime does not contain a consequence element — no harm to civilians is necessary. If the war crime was “intentionally directing attacks that cause harm to a civilian population,” the analysis would be very different: the crime would then consist of three material elements: a conduct element (intentionally directing an attack), a consequence element (harming a group of people), and a circumstance element (the harmed group of people qualifying as a civilian population).The applicable mental elements would then be quite different: the defendant would commit the war crime if he (1) intentionally launched an attack that harmed a civilian population, (2) knowing that the attack would harm a specific group of people, and (3) knowing that the harmed group of people qualified as a civilian population. And in that case, a proportionate attack on a legitimate military objective would qualify as “intentionally directing attacks that harm a civilian population” — a nonsensical outcome, for all the reason Jens mentions.
In the absence of the consequence element, however, this situation does not exist. As long as the defendant whose attack harms a civilian population meant to attack only a legitimate military objective, his knowledge that the attack would incidentally harm a civilian population would not qualify as the war crime of intentionally directing attacks against a civilian population. He would be guilty of that crime only if he meant to attack the civilian population itself.
Your thoughts, Jens?
NOTE: This post generally takes the same position Adil Haque took in a series of comments on Jens’s post.
AJIL Unbound has just published a fantastic symposium entitled “TWAIL Perspectives on ICL, IHL, and Intervention.” The symposium includes an introduction by James Gathii (Loyola-Chicago) and essays by Asad Kiyani (Western), Parvathi Menon (Max Planck), Ntina Tzouvala (Durham), and Corri Zoli (Syracuse). All of the essays are excellent and worth a read, but I want to call special attention to Ntina’s essay, which is entitled “TWAIL and the ‘Unwilling or Unable’ Doctrine: Continuities and Ruptures.” Here is a snippet that reflects her central thesis:
The similarities between this practice and the prominent role of nineteenth-century international legal scholars in the construction of the “civilizing” discourse of the time are striking, even if “[s]ubsequent generations of international lawyers have strenuously attempted to distance the discipline from that period.” Imperial aspirations tied to such arguments also form a “red thread” that connect “the standard of civilization” with the “unwilling or unable” doctrine. The unequal international legal structure promoted by these arguments is intimately linked to an unequal political structure, characterized by the dominance of the Global North over the Global South. More specifically, states of the Global North are enabled to use force against the sovereignty and—importantly—the life and security of the citizens of states of the Global South in pursuing the former’s “war on terror” and the political and economic agendas accompanying it. Moreover, pressure is exerted upon states of the Global South to transform themselves and adopt policies appealing to powerful states, if they want to avoid being branded “unwilling or unable.” A strong parallel can be detected between this transformative process and the pressure exerted upon peripheral states during the nineteenth century to introduce reforms that would render them “civilized” and, hence, equal to Western states.
Ntina makes a number of points in the essay that I’ve tried to make over the years — but she does so far better than I ever have or could. For anyone interested in the “unwilling or unable” doctrine, her essay is a must read.
According to a recent article in Agenda.ge, Russia has announced that it will not cooperate with the ICC’s formal investigation into the situation in Georgia:
Russia’s Ministry of Justice issued a statement confirming it would not cooperate with the investigation, reported Russian media today.
Tbilisi was not surprised by Moscow’s decision. The Georgian side believed it would not be in Russia’s best interests for this case to be investigated.
Russian officials stated it would not collaborate with The Hague Court since the Russian parliament had not ratified the Rome Statue, which Russia signed in 2000.
“As of February 1, 2016, the Russia Federation has not ratified the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court and the document has not come into power,” Russia’s Justice Ministry said.
Earlier, spokesperson for Russia’s Foreign Ministry Maria Zakharova said Moscow was disappointed with ICC’s recent activities and would be forced to “fundamentally review its attitude towards the ICC”.
Zakharova said ICC prosecutor Fatou Bensouda had taken Georgia’s side and started an investigation aimed against Russia and South Ossetia.
“Such actions hardly reflect the ideals of justice,” she said.
Assuming the article is correct — and Agenda.ge is, of course, a Georgian news organization — the statement represents a rather baffling shift in Russia’s approach to the Georgia investigation. According to the OTP’s request for authorization to open the investigation, Russia generally cooperated with the ICC during the preliminary examination, including providing the OTP with 28 volumes of evidence concerning Georgian attacks on Russian peacekeepers in South Ossetia. Given that the Pre-Trial Chamber has authorized the OTP to investigate those attacks (para. 29), Russia’s cooperation seems to have paid off, at least to some extent.
More fundamentally, though, Russia doesn’t seem to have much to fear from the ICC. The OTP’s most sensational allegation is probably that Russia had “overall control” of South Ossetia’s forces during the 2008 conflict…
Sorry for the endless self-promotion, but I thought readers might be interested in the following episode of Al Jazeera’s Inside Story, which includes a 30-minute panel on siege warfare in Syria that I participated in. It was quite a wide-ranging discussion, focusing less on international law than I expected.
As always, comments welcome! I hope readers don’t think I was too soft on either Assad or the UN…
February 6th, 2016 - 9:38 AM EDT | Comments Off on Al Jazeera Panel Discussion on Siege Warfare in Syria http://opiniojuris.org/2016/02/06/al-jazeera-panel-discussion-on-siege-warfare-in-syria/ |
If a foreign State asked you (a government official) permission to let it kill an individual on your government’s territory – an individual who the foreign State said it was fighting against in a non-international armed conflict (NIAC) but who was not in a NIAC against your government – would your human rights obligations prevent you from providing your consent? To pose the question more directly: Would you permit another state to kill someone on your territory in a manner that you yourself weren’t allowed to do?
These questions expose a rarely discussed tension that rests at the heart of the notion of a global (or transnational) NIAC. Unlike many important writings that debate this issue with a focus on the attacking State, these questions seek to reveal the legal responsibilities, namely under human rights law, that arise when a host State grants its consent to the attacking State.
The underlying assumption of a global NIAC is that the US, or any State, may chase its enemies around the world using international humanitarian law (IHL) targeting rules. John O. Brennan, when serving as assistant to the US president for homeland security and counterterrorism, articulated the notion of a global NIAC when he stated “[t]here is nothing in international law that…prohibits us from using lethal force against our enemies outside of an active battlefield, at least when the country involved consents or is unable or unwilling to take action against the threat.”
When we look at this statement from the perspective of the consenting State rather than from the perspective of the attacking State, two things become obvious. The first is that the attacking State’s claims to IHL targeting authorities are more permissive than the host State’s international human rights law (IHRL) obligations. This is because, under our scenario, the host State is not in a NIAC with the attacking State’s enemies and so the host State’s IHRL obligations still apply in full.
A second observation it that under the obligations to respect and protect the human rights of people on its territory, a State must not take part in unlawful and arbitrary deprivation of life and it must protect people in its territory from the same.
When this second observation is linked with the first one, the situation arises whereby even if the foreign State sought to carry out a killing in complete conformity with IHL, the way the killing occurred may still have gone far beyond what IHRL allows the host State to permit. That being the case, the host State would be barred from providing its consent; and, as I explain in more detail in a new article, this significantly undercuts the notion of a global NIAC.
This conclusion, however disappointing it may be for attacking States that wish to use consent as a legal sanitizer, isn’t exactly legal nuclear science. But I do think it’s an area that has largely gone unexplored and allows consenting States to get off the hook for their unlawful role in permitting killings that they have no right to permit.
The problems that IHRL poses for a State that is asked to grant its consent in the context of a global NIAC doesn’t, however, mean that a State can’t defend itself from the serious threats of non-State actors abroad. It means that such use of force must be based on other legal authorities, be them host State law enforcement measures, relying on the inherent right to self-defense, UN Security Council authorization, joining a host State’s armed conflict with a common enemy, and so on.
And while it’s true that distinguishing between using a legally permissible framework or a legally impermissible framework may lead to no material difference in the final outcome (i.e., use of lethal force and casualties may still result), the distinction remains important. A global NIAC stands for something far greater than the consequences of any single lethal attack or group of lethal attacks that a State may wish to carry out. It permits a State to engage in long-lasting armed conflict whereby human rights law is sidelined and the more permissible IHL targeting rules are routinely applied without geographic constraint. Such a legal framework dramatically expands a State’s use of force beyond what international law had envisaged to date.
But herein lays a considerable problem. It will be an uphill battle to persuade host States to respect their human rights obligations (in this case by refusing to grant consent) within the extremely politicized and highly insecure sphere of terrorism, counterterrorism, and armed conflict, especially when the request for consent comes from an attacking State that has considerable military, political, and economic resources to provide or withhold. In turn, this will require a sustained focus and intensified discussions on the legal obligations of the host State and will have to include holding the host State accountable for its breach of international law.