Archive of posts for category
I want to start off our conversation about the larger project Bianchi, Peat and Windsor have undertaken with their new book before introducing my own contribution to it. For years, the concept of interpretation has had a fairly narrow focus within the international legal landscape. It has almost uniformly been associated with a discrete set of objects — treaties. From Grotius to Oppenheim, let alone McNair to Gardiner, when international lawyers have thought about interpretation, there has been a strong push to do so almost entirely with respect to treaty instruments. Moreover, for several decades now the vehicle for interpretation has been widely accepted in the rules of the 1969 Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties. Although there was a time when the issue of how to interpret treaties garnered a really diverse range of views, modern discourse has largely devolved into claiming that the VCLT approach gives priority to (or at least endorses inclusion of) different methods of interpretation (e.g., intentional, textual, teleological). Now, to be clear, these are tremendously important issues given the role of treaties in international law today; scholarship on these topics has been, and remains, an important part of international legal discourse. Nevertheless, what I like about the Bianchi, Peat and Windsor book (putting aside my own contribution) is the editors’ willingness to deal with the traditional games of treaty interpretation while also expanding the discourse to frame interpretation as a much larger project within the international legal order. It is an important move, and one I hope to see continued in future scholarship as international lawyers begin to recognize all the ways interpretation operates within every nook and cranny of the field.
As for my own chapter (which is still up on SSRN, although you should really buy the book), its inspiration lay in one other aspect of the conventional approach to interpretation — defining interpretation simply as a process of giving meaning to treaty texts. I’ve always thought that this approach under-claimed the functions interpretation can serve. Certainly, interpretation has an expository function where its processes help interpreters ascertain what meaning to assign some treaty provision or other aspect of international law. But, interpretation can have other functions as well. For example, although still controversial in some circles, there is the idea that interpretation has an inventive or creative function where instead of simply “finding” meaning, interpreters craft one for the circumstances presented. Alternatively, interpretation may serve a relational role in delimiting not what specific things mean, but how they relate to one another (i.e. whether one treaty provision supersedes another, whether some international humanitarian law rule takes priority over a human right guarantee, etc.).
My contribution to this functional analysis is to highlight the existential potential of interpretation. My chapter explores how, in ascertaining meaning, interpretation operates to confirm—or even establish—the existence of the subject interpreted within (or outside) the corpus of international law. I argue that all interpretations have existential effects as they create, confirm, or deny the existence of the subject of interpretation. At the same time, I identify a particular structure of interpretative argument – what I call “existential interpretation” – by which interpreters ascertain the existence of their subjects. Interpreters can foreground or background existential interpretations depending on whether the existence of the subject-matter is accepted or disputed. Moreover, I find existential interpretations are not limited to the treaty-context. Rather, they are visible at all levels of international legal discourse, including which particular (i) authorities, (ii) evidence, (iii) rules, or (iv) sources exist for purposes of international law.
Some of these existential interpretations are quite prominent and should actually be familiar to most international lawyers even if not previously couched in such terms. Does the U.N. Human Rights Committee have authority to sever reservations as inconsistent with the object and purpose of the ICCPR? For purposes of identifying customary international law, is evidence of “State practice” only comprised of what States “do” or can it also count what States “say”? Is there an “unwilling or unable” test in the jus ad bellum in response to non-State actor attacks? Is R2P now a part of international law? Is the new Iran Deal a treaty or not? Are decisions of international organizations a separate source of international law? These are all examples of existential interpretative inquiries.
My chapter seeks to illuminate the existential function of interpretation and illustrate such interpretations in all the various aspects of the international legal system. But my paper is not simply an exercise in interpretative taxonomy — identifying different frames for interpretative questions. Rather, I seek to illuminate the consequences that the presence or absence of an existential interpretation may have in terms of international legal (a) discourse, (b) doctrine, and (c) theories of international law. For starters, existential interpretations delineate the boundaries for interpretative discourse, narrowing it in cases of consensus on the existence of the interpreted subject, and broadening it in cases of dispute. Where interpretative resolutions of existential questions are possible, they may impact the content of international law doctrine, either directly or indirectly. And, where resolution is not possible, existential interpretations may operate as proxies for theoretical disagreement about the nature or purpose of international law (e.g., positivists may insist interpreters exclude from their toolbox the same soft law sources that naturalists insist require effectiveness as a matter of right).
I conclude my paper by calling for further study of existential interpretation for practical and theoretical reasons. As a practical matter, it would be useful to know more about when and how actors actually foreground existential interpretations. Obviously, there may be cases where an interpreter does so in good faith, but I suspect existential interpretations might also be deployed instrumentally. Consider the possibilities when a State (or other actor) objects to an interpreter X claiming that Rule Y means Z. Of course, the State might simply disagree that Z is the correct meaning of Rule Y. But a State could expand the scope of the interpretative dispute by also questioning whether X has authority to interpret, the evidence on which Rule Y rests as well as the source of international law it is derived from. The objecting State may thus complicate the dispute by expanding its scope. In doing so, moreover, the objecting State may change the nature of the dispute itself, shifting a discussion away from the initial question (e.g., protecting victims of a humanitarian crisis) to issues of authority or procedure (does international law contain a rule requiring such protection and who has authority to invoke its mantel).
As a theoretical matter, existential interpretations can serve as a new lens for mapping the unity and fragmentation of the international legal order itself. Instead of examining fragmentation along a single axis (eg norms), mapping existential arguments offers a way to gauge the extent of unity versus fragmentation along multiple axes. Since existential interpretations are manifest throughout international legal discourse, questions of unity or fragmentation can be examined in terms of authority, the sources of international law, the rules of international law and the evidence on which they are based, the actors who may participate, or the remedies international law affords. In each area, the number and depth of existential debates offer a rough gauge for mapping unity versus fragmentation. Where existential inquiries are absent or where a consensus exists on the answers, unity may be presumed. Conversely, where there are existential disputes, they indicate a fragmentation of the legal system.
In sum, as much as I love treaties, I believe that there is significant value in thinking about interpretation as more than a process of giving treaty provisions meaning. My introduction of the concept of existential interpretation is an effort to show just how broadly interpretative processes reach and structure the international legal order. In doing so, I hope to illustrate — as the book itself does — the importance of thinking about interpretation as its own field within international law.
[An introductory post to the book symposium can be found here.]
I just learned — much belatedly — that Chinua Achebe, the great Nigerian novelist, died two years ago today at 82. Here is a snippet from his 2013 obituary in the New York Times:
Nadine Gordimer, the South African novelist and Nobel laureate, hailed Mr. Achebe in a review in The New York Times in 1988, calling him “a novelist who makes you laugh and then catch your breath in horror — a writer who has no illusions but is not disillusioned.”
Mr. Achebe’s political thinking evolved from blaming colonial rule for Africa’s woes to frank criticism of African rulers and the African citizens who tolerated their corruption and violence. Indeed, it was Nigeria’s civil war in the 1960s and then its military dictatorship in the 1980s and ‘90s that forced Mr. Achebe abroad.
In his writing and teaching Mr. Achebe sought to reclaim the continent from Western literature, which he felt had reduced it to an alien, barbaric and frightening land devoid of its own art and culture. He took particular exception to”Heart of Darkness,”the novel byJoseph Conrad, whom he thought “a thoroughgoing racist.”
Conrad relegated “Africa to the role of props for the breakup of one petty European mind,” Mr. Achebe argued in his essay “An Image of Africa.”
“I grew up among very eloquent elders,” he said in an interview with The Associated Press in 2008. “In the village, or even in the church, which my father made sure we attended, there were eloquent speakers.” That eloquence was not reflected in Western books about Africa, he said, but he understood the challenge in trying to rectify the portrayal.
“You know that it’s going to be a battle to turn it around, to say to people, ‘That’s not the way my people respond in this situation, by unintelligible grunts, and so on; they would speak,’ ” Mr. Achebe said. “And it is that speech that I knew I wanted to be written down.”
Chinua’s passing fills me with great sadness, because I had the honour of getting to know him quite well in the late 1980s — just before the car accident that left him paralyzed — when I was a graduate student at the New School for Social Research. He was a dear friend of the anthropologist Stanley Diamond, for whom I did research and whose journal, Dialectical Anthropology, I edited. I will long treasure the memories of Chinua’s kindness and warmth. He would always go out of his way to include me in conversations, and to ask me — a lowly graduate student, barely 21 — what I thought about things. And his terrible accident did not dim his spirit in the slightest; he was just as kind and warm the first time I saw him after the accident, when he was still recovering.
Chinua was also, needless to say, a remarkable novelist. I just wish he had written more — his two-decade-long writers block, which he attributed to the trauma of the Nigerian civil war (as the obituary notes), cheated us all out of so many great novels that will now never be written. I plan to re-read “Things Fall Apart” in his honour as soon as I can. It remains one of the great novels written by any writer — not just by an African one. Chinua’s fiction, though so inextricably tied to his country and to his continent, always transcended the limits of geography. I still get angry when I think about Saul Bellow’s profoundly racist comment concerning the supposed non-existence of great African literature: “When the Zulus produce a Tolstoy, we will read him.” I don’t know about the Zulus, but the Ibo certainly produced one. His name was Chinua Achebe.
Requiescat in pace, Chinua. You will be missed — and remembered.
UPDATE: I have updated the post to reflect that I only found out today about Chinua’s death. I hope these thoughts are better late than never.
Courtesy of Chris Moody, here is an actual letter written by John F. Kennedy in 1961 to a little girl in Michigan:
Santa Claus has always seemed a bit communist to me. More of the Vietnamese or Chinese nationalist variety, I guess.
Happy holidays, everyone!
Mark Kersten, creator of Justice in Conflict, long one of the most important blogs in international criminal justice, successfully defended his thesis yesterday at the LSE. Heartfelt congratulations, my friend!
And, of course, now that Mark has the word “Dr.” in front of his name, we can finally take him seriously.
Here is the question: are there any norms governing how many potential supervisors a student looking to apply for a PhD can or should approach? I get a few emails expressing interest in my supervision each month, and they generally fall into three categories: (1) proposals that are clearly directed toward me, because they discuss my work and propose topics I’ve written about; (2) proposals that have nothing to do with my work or interests and seem to be little more than academic spam; and (3) proposals that seem to be directed towards me, because they discuss my work, but propose topics that are at the very outer edge of my intellectual interests. I have little trouble with the first two categories — proposals in the first tend to be strong; proposals in the second tend to be anything but. It’s the third category that I find difficult to deal with. The students are often more than qualified and the proposals are usually quite good. But I cannot escape a sneaking suspicion that even when the proposals are addressed specifically to me, I am one of many potential supervisors to whom the student has written.
To be honest, I never know what to do in that situation. Given the uncertainties of acceptance and financial support — particularly in the UK — I understand that potential PhD students need to apply to multiple universities and thus need to approach multiple potential supervisors. But I also want there to be some kind of intellectual connection between me and my PhD students; I don’t want to work with someone just because he or she knows my name and sees the “Professor” in my title.
So, European colleagues: how do you handle situations like these? How many simultaneous approaches is too many? Is it kosher to write back to a student and ask how many others they’ve written to? Can I ask for names?
Any advice would be most appreciated…
I want to congratulate my friend — and friend of Opinio Juris — Dapo Akande on his promotion to Professor of Public International Law at Oxford University. It’s a massive accomplishment, and one richly deserved. Here is a snippet of Dapo’s impressive bio:
Dapo Akande is also Yamani Fellow at St. Peter’s College and Co-Director of the Oxford Institute for Ethics, Law and Armed Conflict (ELAC) & the Oxford Martin Programme on Human Rights for Future Generations. He has held visiting professorships at Yale Law School (where he was also Robinna Foundation International Fellow), the University of Miami School of Law and the Catolica Global Law School, Lisbon. Before taking up his position in Oxford in 2004, he was Lecturer in Law at the University of Nottingham School of Law (1998-2000) and at the University of Durham (2000-2004). From 1994 to 1998, he taught international law (part-time) at the London School of Economics and at Christ’s College and Wolfson College, University of Cambridge.
He has varied research interests within the field of general international law and has published articles on aspects of the law of international organizations, international dispute settlement, international criminal law and the law of armed conflict. His articles have been published in leading international law journals such as the American Journal of International Law, the British Yearbook of International Law and the European Journal of International Law . His article in the Journal of International Criminal Justice on the “Jurisdiction of the International Criminal Court over Nationals of Non-Parties: Legal Basis and Limits” was awarded the 2003 Giorgio La Pira Prize.
Dapo has advised States, international organizations and non-governmental organizations on matters of international law. He has worked with the United Nations on issues relating to international humanitarian law and human rights law; acted as consultant for the African Union on the international criminal court and on the law relating to terrorism; and also as a consultant for the Commonwealth Secretariat on the law of armed conflict and international criminal law. He has also provided training on international law to diplomats, military officers and other government officials. He has advised and assisted counsel, or provided expert opinions, in cases before the International Court of Justice, the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, international arbitral tribunals, WTO and NAFTA Dispute Settlement Panels as well as cases in England and the United States of America.
There are four scholars who write in my areas that I am afraid to disagree with — because when we do disagree, odds are that they are right and I am wrong. The first three are Marko Milanovic, Steve Vladeck, and my co-blogger Jens Ohlin. The fourth is Dapo. He is, quite simply, one of the finest scholars writing today.
Amal Alamuddin-Clooney, Kevin’s Doughty Street Chambers colleague, made news this week by visiting Greece as part of a legal team working for the return of the Elgin Marbles to Greece from Britain. This is not ordinarily global tabloid fodder, but Alamuddin-Clooney’s recent marriage means she will draw media attention wherever she goes.
I don’t doubt her legal credentials (as well as that of her colleagues), but I do doubt the strength of their legal case for the return of the Marbles. At the time the Marbles were removed from Greece, the Ottoman Empire had sovereignty over Greece and there is pretty decent historical evidence that Lord Elgin had their authorization to remove the Marbles, or if he did not have authorization, his removal was ratified by official acts of the Ottoman government. (John Merryman seems to have made the most complete case here).
To be sure, there are strong moral arguments for the return of the Marbles to Greece. But Alamuddin-Clooney and her colleagues are hired for their legal expertise. On this front, I think they have a very tough case (which may be why they appear to have ruled out litigation already). But I am open to counter-arguments (based on law, not on cultural nationalism) for the Greek case. .
My friends at Matrix Chambers have asked me to post the following job announcement, for established practitioners in international law:
Founded in 2000 to meet the complex challenges of law in the 21st century, Matrix Chambers has 70 members and 7 associate members supported by a dynamic and modern staff team. We have offices in London and Geneva.
Individual members of Matrix Chambers have experience and expertise in a wide range of international law areas including maritime, humanitarian, environmental, boundary disputes, oil and gas disputes, investment treaty disputes, and disputes between States. Members of Chambers attract an increasing amount of private international law work in addition to the public international law cases for which they are renowned for, along with a commitment to developing non-litigation work, including advisory work on Corporate Social Responsibility, investigatory work, and international mediation.
Members act for a full range of clients including individuals, companies, NGO’s, and States. They appear before the major international courts and tribunals, including the International Court of Justice, the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, the WTO dispute settlement bodies, and international criminal courts and tribunals, as well as before domestic courts where issues of international law arise. Members also act in ICSID, PCA and other arbitrations. Members are ranked highly in international law in all the major legal directories.
In accordance with its policy of controlled growth, and given the heavy workload of the team, Matrix wishes to recruit additional members to complement the core International Law team. Matrix invites applications from experienced barristers, lawyers, and academics who have an established and exceptional international law practice, either here in England and Wales, or in other jurisdictions.
The successful candidates will need to demonstrate that they are outstanding International Law practitioners with a strong reputation in the international arena, who support the Core Values of Matrix. You can request an application pack by e-mailing recruitment [at] matrixlaw [dot] co [dot] uk or call +44 (0)20 7404 3447. The deadline for receipt of applications is Friday 12th September 2014.
Any potential applicants who wish to discuss their application may contact Practice Manager Paul Venables (paulvenables [at] matrixlaw [dot] co [dot] uk) or the International Law group coordinator Professor Zachary Douglas (zacharydouglas [at] matrixlaw [dot] co [dot] uk). All applications will be treated in the strictest confidence.
This is an amazing opportunity for the right candidate. Matrix is obviously one of the UK’s best barrister sets, with a particularly strong international-law group — Prof. James Crawford, Philippe Sands QC, Raza Husain QC, Cherie Booth QC, Ben Emmerson QC, Michelle Butler, and many others.
Note that the deadline for applying is coming up soon — a week from today, September 12. You can download the application pack here.
The state of the international law academy in the United States is undoubtedly strong. International law and its progeny are no longer marginalized pieces of the law school curriculum as they were for much of the 20th century. U.S. Law Schools regularly offer international law, with a fair number now doing so in the first year (whether as a required course or an elective). Nor is the subject limited to a one-off class; schools often try to cover the more fragmented landscape with multiple offerings, from human rights to trade, from arbitration to international environmental law. Given this proliferation of courses, it’s not surprising to see a similar growth in the number and prominence of international law academics (there is, though, a chicken and egg question here as to which came first). Today, many schools have moved beyond the requisite “one” international law professor to incorporate faculty with a broad range of international and comparative research interests and experiences. By way of example, here, at Temple, depending on how you count, we have 11-13 international law faculty.
All that may come as cold comfort, however, to those looking to become international law professors at a U.S. law school in the coming years. It’s no secret that the U.S. legal education market is in a rather dramatic contraction right now. As applications tumble, schools are cutting the size of their entering classes, and in some cases their existing faculty. Last week, a great post by Sarah Lawsky (UC-Irvine) provided a wealth of comparative data on the impacts the market shifts are having on tenure-track hiring for U.S. law schools. The picture is not a terribly pretty one – from a high of 167 junior faculty hired in 2008 to 73 this year. I don’t know exactly how many of these 73 hires were in international law, but I’d guess not many. As schools re-trench, many will focus on hiring in domestic areas because that’s where the perceived jobs are for students (the supply for potential international lawyers having long outstripped the demand, at least for those with a U.S. J.D.). I’d welcome data that upsets my expectations, but, for now, I’m betting that international law teaching jobs (which were always pretty competitive) are now going to be very hard to get.
This situation leads me to ask three questions. For starters, is there anything aspiring international law academics can do to actually increase their chances of landing a job in the field? For example, I was asked by a PhD candidate at King’s College London a few weeks ago whether having a PhD in international law would be valued by U.S. law schools given how some law schools have been actively seeking to hire law professors who have PhDs. My answer, I’m afraid, was not terribly encouraging. A PhD without a J.D. will raise hackles on many faculties who want law professors to be lawyers. And where a candidate has both a PhD and a J.D., the pedigree of both degrees will matter more than the presence of the degrees themselves. Moreover, I’d hazard to guess that other factors may be more important to hiring committees, namely prior work experience in international law (which I think still matters), publications with an emphasis on the “s”, and having had a prior fellowship. Indeed, according to Lawsky, 84% of the 2014 hires came from a fellowship program (in contrast, 19 candidates had PhDs and none of these were in international law). And, of course, networking and ‘who knows you’ may actually be the most important aspects of a candidacy in a market that’s become so small.
Given the harsh hiring reality, my second question is what does the future hold for international law teaching, at least in the United States? Will prospective candidates simply keep their day jobs and avoid testing the market altogether? Will folks take a “wait and see” attitude, hoping for a rebound in interest and hiring in 3-5 years? Or, will candidates go abroad to try and teach? My sense is that the market in Europe for international law teaching has not suffered the same downturn currently plaguing the United States, and thus there may be more opportunities there. Similarly, I know from a number of post-docs who I’ve worked with that China, Singapore and other areas in the Far East are paying more (not less) attention to international law as well. I’d be interested to hear from more knowledgeable readers what the state of the European and Asian markets are for international law academics (and whether there are other teaching markets potential candidates should consider).
Third, and finally, I wonder if it’s a good or bad thing to have fewer new international law professors entering the profession? I’m inclined to look at it negatively on the assumption that international law work will continue to rise, not just as a stand-alone profession for lawyers, but as a component of the work all lawyers do in an increasingly globalized world. As such, there should be sufficient faculty to introduce students to this area and the legal work it involves. Others, however, I suspect might suggest the pendulum has swung too far and that U.S. law schools are devoting too much time and energy to international law in both curricular and hiring contexts, saying that the on-going re-adjustment is therefore a good outcome. Still others might argue that the issue is idiosyncratic; as law schools start to move away from uniform aspirations, a case could be made that certain law schools should become more focused on international law by virtue of their history, geography, or market placement at the same time as other law schools’ circumstances make the case for devoting less attention to international law.
What do readers think? Is there any hope for someone trying to get a U.S. law teaching job in international law in 2014-15? Are there alternative places candidates should look if, in fact, U.S. law schools are hanging out ‘no vacancy’ signs in international law? And, how worried should we be about this situation, whether in the short, medium, or long-term?
[UPDATE: With a hat tip to Peter Spiro, it seems Sarah Lawsky did track hiring candidates by subject matter, so we can actually see how many of this year’s lucky hires expressed an interest in international law. By my count it looks like there are 2 candidates who identified international law as their primary area of interest and one who did so for international trade. Three other candidates identified international as a third or fourth area of interest.]
Last week’s NETmundial conference serves as a reminder of just how much the nature of cyberspace remains (at least theoretically) undetermined. We still can’t agree on what kind of resource cyberspace “is”: Is it a global public good as Sir Tim Berners Lee proclaimed (i.e., a res communis) or just a collection of technology subject to sovereignty regulation like so many other resources? This theoretical divide may help explain the continuing back and forth between multi-stakeholder governance (which includes, but does not privilege, a role for States) versus the multilateral governance project (which most certainly does). NETmundial may have been a net plus for multi-stakeholder proponents, but I’m much less sanguine that it represents an end to claims that cyberspace can — and should — be regulated primarily by government controls over internet resources (for more on the details of NETmundial and its final statement see Milton Mueller’s take-away here).
My skepticism about how international law will draw borders for cyberspace governance leads me to think about other roles borders can play in cyberspace — that is, using international law to draw lines separating acceptable from unacceptable behavior, permitted conduct from required conduct, etc. I’ve drafted a new chapter that, in the context of cyber war, examines both the ways we draw law from borders and borders from law in cyberspace. I critique the status quo on both theoretical and functional grounds, concluding that we should seek to start a new process not just for constructing governance regimes, but normative ones as well. Consistent with the book’s central focus on cyber war, I proffer a case-study for such an approach with respect to armed conflicts, arguing international humanitarian law should adopt a Duty to Hack. My idea is that, even though it does so only occasionally now, international law should regularly require States to use cyber-operations in their military operations whenever they are the least harmful means available for achieving military objectives. You can download a copy of the paper here on SSRN.
For those looking for more details, here’s the abstract:
Warfare and boundaries have a symbiotic relationship. Whether as its cause or effect, States historically used war to delineate the borders that divided them. Laws and borders have a similar relationship. Sometimes laws are the product of borders as when national boundaries delineate the reach of States’ authorities. But borders may also be the product of law; laws regularly draw lines between permitted and prohibited conduct or bound off required acts from permissible ones. Both logics are on display in debates over international law in cyberspace. Some characterize cyberspace as a unique, self-governing ‘space’ that requires its own borders and the drawing of tailor-made rules therein. For others, cyberspace is merely a technological medium that States can govern via traditional territorial borders with rules drawn ‘by analogy’ from pre-existing legal regimes.
This chapter critiques current formulations drawing law from boundaries and boundaries from law in cyberspace with respect to (a) its governance; (b) the use of force; and (c) international humanitarian law (IHL). In each area, I identify theoretical problems that exist in the absence of any uniform theory for why cyberspace needs boundaries. At the same time, I elaborate functional problems with existing boundary claims – particularly by analogy – in terms of their (i) accuracy, (ii) effectiveness and (iii) completeness. These prevailing difficulties on whether, where, and why borders are needed in cyberspace suggests the time is ripe for re-appraising the landscape.
This chapter seeks to launch such a re-thinking project by proposing a new rule of IHL – a Duty to Hack. The Duty to Hack would require States to use cyber-operations in their military operations whenever they are the least harmful means available for achieving military objectives. Thus, if a State can achieve the same military objective by bombing a factory or using a cyber-operation to take it off-line temporarily, the Duty to Hack requires that State to pursue the latter course. Although novel, I submit the Duty to Hack more accurately and effectively accounts for IHL’s fundamental principles and cyberspace’s unique attributes than existing efforts to foist legal boundaries upon State cyber-operations by analogy. Moreover, adopting the Duty to Hack could constitute a necessary first step to resolving the larger theoretical and functional challenges currently associated with law’s boundaries in cyberspace.
Last Spring, Temple Law School was pleased to host a two day workshop on the scholarship of one of international law’s true giants — Martti Koskenniemi (simply put, I’m a big fan). Organized by my colleague, Jeff Dunoff, it was a great event with a wide-ranging conversation launching off Martti’s works in international legal theory, international legal history, fragmentation, interdisciplinary scholarship, ethics and the future of international law.
Given how great the workshop was, I could not be more pleased to note that the accompanying papers have now been compiled and published in a single volume of the Temple International and Comparative Law Journal (vol. 27, no. 2). The full table of contents for the Symposium Issue can be found here.
The papers include Jeff Dunoff’s framing introduction, a fascinating paper by Martti on the historiography of international law, and a slew of papers by renowned scholars, including Kim Scheppele, Tomer Broude, Sean Murphy, Mark Pollack, Rob Howse and Ruti Teitel, Samuel Moyn, Jan Klabbers, Andrew Lang and Susan Marks, Frédéric Mégret, and Ralf Michaels. These papers address a number of themes that run through Koskenniemi’s work, including international law and empire; the fragmentation of international law; interdisciplinary approaches to international law; reading – and misreading – the tradition; and the international lawyer as ethical agent. Both individually and collectively, the papers represent a significant effort to engage, explore, and extend the ideas found in Koskenniemi’s writings.
The special symposium issue is the first of what will be a tradition of yearly Symposia that will be organized by Temple faculty and published in the Journal. As such, the Symposia marks a new form of collaboration between Temple faculty and students, and represent an experiment in academic publishing designed to provide students the experience of editing papers on cutting-edge research, and at the same time injecting faculty expertise into the selection and substantive editing of papers.