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Weekend Roundup: December 13-19, 2014

by An Hertogen

This week on Opinio Juris, our regular bloggers touched on a variety of topics again with Kevin rejecting Ashley Deeks’ evidence that the international response to ISIS supports the “unwilling or unable” test under article 51 UN Charter and Kristen expanding the UN’s list of 13 things to know about UN sanctions to 16. Prompted by Christopher Kutz’ essay, Julian asked whether the norm against torture is indeed dying in the US.

In guest posts this week, Bede Sheppard discussed new guidelines to protect schools and universities from military use during armed conflict, and Rick Lines and Damon Barrett pointed to an interesting question of international law posed by the US’ four pillar approach to international drug control.

Finally, Kevin welcomed Points of Order to the blogosphere and, as every week, you could count on Jessica to wrap up the international news headlines and list the events and announcements.

Many thanks to our guest contributors and have a great weekend!

Why Doesn’t the U.S. Public Agree with International Law’s Absolute Ban on Torture?

by Julian Ku

I don’t have much useful to add to the already voluminous online debate on the legality or morality of the U.S. Senate Intelligence Committee’s report on the CIA’s “enhanced interrogation” or “torture” program.  In this post, I want to focus on an interesting data point coming out of this debate.  As best as I can tell, international law’s position that torture can never be legally justified doesn’t seem to be shared by a majority (or even close to a majority) of the U.S. public.  This doesn’t mean that the CIA program was legal.   But international lawyers need to also consider the fact that U.S. public support for international law’s absolute prohibition of torture has only declined over the past 13 years, despite the much greater awareness and public discussion of these issues, especially by international lawyers.

I don’t think I am wrong in stating that the CAT is essentially an absolute ban on torture, no matter what the circumstances or justification.  (From CAT Art. 2(2): “No exceptional circumstances whatsoever, whether a state of war or a threat of war, internal political instability, or any other public emergency, may be invoked as a justification of torture.”).  There might be some debate as to whether there is an implicit necessity defense in U.S. law, but I don’t think there is much international support for this view.  This absolutist position would seem to limit or perhaps eliminate the “necessity” defense that has drawn so much attention in the U.S. political debate. I think international law’s prohibition on torture in any circumstances explains why international lawyers are among the most vehement critics of the CIA program.

For instance, the U.N.’s Ben Emmerson is calling again for prosecutions, and experts continue to suggest foreign countries may prosecute Bush-era officials for torture international international law.  The ICC may open an investigation, although as Eugene Kontorovich outlines here, there are pretty serious jurisdictional obstacles including questions as to whether the CIA program involving 39 detainees would even satisfy the murky Art. 17 “gravity” requirement.  In any event, I think it is safe to say there consensus among most international lawyers that many if not all of the methods in the CIA program were indeed “torture”  or at least “cruel, inhuman, or degrading” treatment as defined in the Convention Against Torture.  Furthermore, there is strong support for “accountability” via prosecutions of Bush-era officials.

However, it is worth noting that reliable public opinion surveys show that U.S. public opinion has actually shifted away from the international law “absolute ban on torture” view toward a more flexible “torture is OK in some circumstances” view.  FiveThirtyEight.com points out that the Pew Research Survey, which has polled Americans on whether torture can be justified since 2004, has found a decline in support for the absolute ban on torture.  Indeed, in its last survey back in 2011, 53% of those surveyed said torture could “sometimes” or “often” (!!) be justified.  Another nearly 20% were willing to allow torture in “rare” cases.  Only 30% or so of those polled supported an absolute ban on torture, which is the position taken by international law.  This means nearly 70% of the U.S. public seems to be willing to tolerate torture in some exceptional circumstances.

An overnight poll after the Senate report was released has not shown drastically different numbers. When asked specifically about waterboarding and the other tactics described in the Senate report, 47% of the “likely voters” surveyed said they agreed the tactics should have been used, with 33% disagreeing and 20% unsure.  It is likely that many of the 20% are unlikely to support an absolute ban on torture, but might agree that waterboarding and other tactics in this particular case were unjustified.

Again, I am not claiming that public opinion should determine whether the CIA program was legal.  But international lawyers cannot ignore the disconnect between US public opinion and international law’s absolute ban on torture.   This disconnect may explain why, despite international law’s rejection of a necessity defense, the U.S. public debate is almost all about whether the CIA program was effective or not. This divergence will probably explain why there will be no prosecutions or truth commissions in the U.S. over the CIA program.  And it should remind international lawyers that even the most widely shared and unquestioned of international treaties can diverge sharply from the general public’s views.

Why the Philippines’ Arbitration Against China is Doomed to Fail

by Julian Ku

Over at The National Interest, I have an essay considering the strategic implications of the Philippines arbitration claim against China.  I argue that the Philippines made a mistake by trying to force China into an arbitration under the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea, and that their “lawfare” strategy is probably going to backfire.

Due in part to domestic pressures for a robust nationalism in defense of all territorial claims, China has not yet reached the point where arbitration seems like a reasonable way to settle its maritime disputes.  And since it has now spent months denouncing the Philippines arbitration as illegal and illegitimate in its domestic press and internationally, it will be even harder to accept any form of international dispute resolution in the future.

This is why the Philippines’ effort to force China to accept arbitration now is doomed to fail and will probably backfire. The Philippines will be in no stronger position vis-à-vis China than it was before the arbitration, even if it wins an award.  Meanwhile, the overall credibility and effectiveness of the UNCLOS dispute resolution system will be called into question.  And the U.S. goal of a China that “abides by and reinforces” international law and norms will be even farther off.

 

The Senate Torture Report as a Truth Commission

by Roger Alford

It so happens that I have been researching the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission at the same time that the Senate has published an alarming report of abuse and torture committed by Americans in the name of national security. Without equating South African apartheid with the Bush Administration’s policies and practices, I thought that a few insights from the South African TRC are worth highlighting.

First, the Senate Report is a transition point for the United States. Following early revelations of torture, we have had a decade of obfuscation, but now we are moving in the direction of truth-telling. Whatever one thinks of it, the Senate’s actions represent a type of truth commission. Flawed and partisan, but nonetheless a truth commission. Of course, the South African TRC was not simply a truth commission, but also a commission committed to reconciliation and prosecution of key perpetrators. The next step for the United States will be to consider whether and how we approach the next stage in this sad saga, which will involve questions of reconciliation and responsibility.

Second, while the Senate Report has focused on the question of efficacy, we should first and foremost recognize that information released yesterday underscores the moral failure of those who committed unspeakable acts of torture. It will take some time, but we must come to accept that the acts committed in the name of protecting our nation have weakened it. Our standing in the world has been irretrievably diminished. A poem by Desmond Tutu, head of the South African TRC, which he read during the opening session of the TRC in 1996, bears repeating:

The world is wept.
Blood and pain seep into our listening; into our wounded souls.
The sound of your sobbing is my own weeping;
Your wet handkerchief my pillow for a past so exhausted it cannot rest–not yet.
Speak, weep, look, listen, for us all.
Oh, people of the silent hidden past,
let your stories scatter seeds into our lonely frightened winds.
Sow more, until the stillness of this land can soften, can dare to hope and smile and sing;
Until the ghosts can dance unshackled, until our lives can know your sorrows and be healed.

Third, regardless of whether there are prosecutions, at some point those responsible for the policies that led to torture will be invited to apologize. If the South African TRC is any guide, they will refuse. During the South African TRC, in the kindest way possible Desmond Tutu invited former Prime Minister P.W. Botha to apologize. Tutu said to Botha:

I speak on behalf of people who have suffered grievously as a result of policies that we carried out by governments, including the government that he headed. I want to appeal to him. I want to appeal to him to take a chance … to say that he may not himself even have intended the suffering…. He may not have given orders or authorised anything…. I am just saying that the government that he headed caused many of our people deep, deep anguish and pain and suffering…. If Mr. Botha was able to say: I am sorry that the policies of my government caused you pain. Just that. Can he bring himself to say I am sorry that the policies of my government caused you so much pain? That would be a tremendous thing and I appeal to him.

Botha heard this appeal in a court of law, and sat there unmoved and unresponsive. Later, former Prime Minister F.W. de Klerk–the one responsible for freeing Nelson Mandela and setting South Africa on a path toward democracy–was also asked to apologize. He admitted that there were “bad apples” and that security forces committed acts of murder, torture, rape, and assault. But he denied that his administration ever directly or indirectly authorised such actions. Tutu said of de Klerk:

To say I did not know… I find that hard to understand. I have … got to say that I sat there and I was close to tears. I feel sorry for him. I am devastated. [For him] to make an impassioned apology … and then to negate it. All that is required is to say that ‘we believed in this policy but it is a policy that brought about all of this suffering. It is a policy that killed people. Not by accident, deliberately. It was planned.’

His failure to apologize permanently altered Tutu’s estimation of de Klerk.

He would have gone down in history as a truly great South African statesman… What a great man he would have been…. He is a very bright lawyer who qualifies his answers carefully to protect his position, but in doing this he has steadily eroded his stature, becoming in the process a small man, lacking magnanimity and generosity of spirit.

So this is where we are. We are beginning to understand the truth of what happened. Our souls are heavy as we learn of the silent, hidden past. Eventually we will pursue more than just truth. We will discuss a formal truth and reconciliation commission, and will investigate who and how to prosecute the perpetrators of torture. We will hope upon hope for a sincere apology from statesmen, but have little confidence that one will be forthcoming.

What We Fight About When We Fight About Torture

by Jens David Ohlin

Right now we are locked in a complex dispute over the claims in the SSCI Torture Report that the CIA’s torture program was ineffective (as well as illegal). Part of the dispute can be frustrating because I think we are conflating a number of more distinct questions when we ask whether the torture was effective or not. Consider the following article from John Yoo who says that the torture report should be confined to the “dustbin” of history because it is inaccurate. He claims that torturing the detainees helped the CIA find Osama Bin Laden plain and simple.

We need to be more precise in order to have this conversation. Effectiveness or ineffectiveness are actually cluster concepts composed of more specific elements. I will try to tease apart the components here (there are at least five).

First, there is the issue of whether the CIA received intelligence from torture. In evaluating the dueling claims from the SSCI report and the CIA, it seems clear to me that the CIA did receive some intelligence about Bin Laden’s courier from the detainees who were tortured. The real question is evaluating the significance of that intelligence as compared to the other data points in the overall intelligence assessment of the CIA. That’s a complicated question and simply asking whether or not the CIA received intelligence about the courier from the tortured detainees does not tell you anything about the significance of the information. For that you need to ask some different questions which I now elaborate.

Second, there is the question of whether that intelligence was also received from other sources. Even if the tortured detainees provided intelligence about the courier, the more relevant question is whether that information was also received from our sources. That makes a huge difference. The critics of the report (including the CIA) make it sound as if the information from the courier came exclusively from the tortured detainees, but in fact this might have been a situation of overdetermination. The CIA already knew about the courier. If they received the information again from a tortured detainee, it is literally true that they received intelligence from the tortured detainee but the significance of that information is substantially reduced (perhaps to zero).

Third, there is the question of whether the intelligence could have been received from a non-torture source, either by non-coercive interrogation or some non-interrogation method. This question is important because it is relevant to the issue of “unavoidability” that plats a part in the legal analysis of necessity. At least some of the information came from multiple sources including detainees who provided the information before they were tortured. This suggests that torturing the detainees was avoidable because there were other non-torture avenues available for the CIA to get the information. It is also important to ask — and not enough people are asking and discussing this — whether the CIA could have used methods other than interrogation to get information about the courier. Of course, this discussion is stymied by the fact that the public does not have access to CIA methods and practices, which are classified. But how can we determine that the torture was indeed “necessary” without making explicit reference to the lack of other avenues? Unfortunately the CIA does not discuss these other avenues, but they really need to if they want anyone to accept their conclusion that the torture was truly necessary.

Fourth, there is the question of whether the torture saved lives. This is a counterfactual question because it requires imagining a world without torture and asking which terrorist attacks would — and would not — have occurred. This is guess work. When the CIA and their surrogates argue that the torture saved lives, they are asking everyone to engage in a mighty big thought experiment and what the world would have looked liked if they had followed the legal prohibition against torture. This is closely connected to the issue of unavoidability but it really is a separate question. Did it save lives? I have no idea. But at the very least the SSCI report shows that the CIA has failed to make the case that it saved lives.

Fifth, there are the first-order normative questions that are allegedly separate from effectiveness entirely, i.e. regardless of the answers to (1)-(4), was tortured legally or morally appropriate? Obama says that torture is wrong but he refuses to say whether it was effective or not. But these questions are linked in an interesting way. If we are debating whether the necessity defense should apply to torture (which I’ve written about extensively), at least part of the analysis is whether the torture is unavoidable. If torture is ineffective and useless, then it is clearly avoidable and the necessity argument does not apply — regardless of the rest of the legal argument. Of course, there might be other moral and legal reasons to reject torture, but the application of the necessity argument seems central to me.

The present discussion in Washington, DC, is conflating all of these questions into one incoherent mess.

Star Wars, Indeed: US Navy Will Deploy Its First (Hopefully Legal) Laser Cannons to Persian Gulf

by Julian Ku

It looks like the US Navy is going to go ahead and start deploying its new laser cannons to the Persian Gulf next year, according to this Washington Post report.  The Navy has been developing this weapon for years as a cheaper alternative to missiles for attacking smaller targets, especially drones (My 2005 self is still kind of amazed at my 2014 self for writing this last sentence in all seriousness and not as part of a science fiction fantasy).  But you have to watch this video…

Is there any legal limitation on this new weapon?  Well, the Navy is planning to limit it to self-defense for now, according to this WSJ($) report.

“We have the authorities right now to use it in self-defense,” Adm. Klunder said. “If someone was coming to harm the USS Ponce, we could use this laser system on that threat and we would intend to do so.”

The U.S. is also party to the Protocol on Blinding Laser Weapons, ratified by the U.S. back in 2008.  The Protocol limits the U.S. Navy’s lasers in this way:

Article 1

It is prohibited to employ laser weapons specifically designed, as their sole combat function or as one of their combat functions, to cause permanent blindness to unenhanced vision, that is to the naked eye or to the eye with corrective eyesight devices. The High Contracting Parties shall not transfer such weapons to any State or non-State entity.

The scope of this provision is limited by Article 3, which appears to allow blinding via lasers if it is an incidental or collateral effect.

Article 3

Blinding as an incidental or collateral effect of the legitimate military employment of laser systems, including laser systems used against optical equipment, is not covered by the prohibition of this Protocol.

This would seem to give the US Navy enough room to use its laser cannons, which are not intended just to blind, but to actually destroy targets (take a look at that video one more time).  Still, it is possible that blinding would be one of its effects, since it is intended to be used against small targets, including small boat attacks favored by Iran.  Soldiers in these open boats could be “blinded” by a laser attack, and Article 2 requires the U.S. to take all feasible precautions to avoid the incidence of permanent blindness to unenhanced vision.” Still, I think Article 3 is enough cover for the U.S. Navy to justify its use in combat.  And just in case, the U.S. added a declaration upon accession:

“It is the understanding of the United States of America with respect to Article 2 that any decision by any military commander, military personnel, or any other person responsible for planning, authorizing or executing military action shall only be judged on the basis of that person’s assessment of the information reasonably available to the person at the time the person planned, authorized or executed the action under review, and shall not be judged on the basis of information that comes to light after the action under review was taken.”

Star Wars is here, and no treaty is going to stop it….

 

 

Alfred P. Rubin: The Best Professor I Ever Had

by Duncan Hollis

For those of us fortunate enough to end up with a career in international law, we all have our mentors, our guiding lights.  Mine was Professor Alfred P. Rubin of the Fletcher School.  He died last week.  I write to express my condolences to his family and friends and offer a few words on his influence on my life as well as the whole Fletcher community, where he taught for 30 years.  Simply put, I would not be an international lawyer — let alone a professor of international law — had Professor Rubin not pushed, encouraged, and inspired me onto my current path.  He was the best professor I ever saw grace a classroom.

Truth be told, when I arrived at Fletcher in the Fall of 1993, I had no expectations of a career in international law.  I had enjoyed studying it as an undergraduate at Bowdoin with Allen Springer (a former student of Professor Rubin as it turned out).  But I’d applied to Fletcher to study Japan, not law; I had four years of Japanese language classes under my belt and had just finished a summer internship in Osaka.  To complete my joint degree, however, I still needed four law-related courses. LAW 200: The International Legal Order looked interesting.  I was a bit wary of an early morning class 3 days a week, including Fridays, plus an unusual year-long course structure. Still, Rubin’s classes were legendary so I decided to take it during my first semester.

In what was a trademark for his contrarian demeanor, Professor Rubin started off our first class with a simple, but powerful, challenge — insisting that there is no such thing as human rights.  An Australian classmate took the bait, and responded that they must exist, to which Professor Rubin pushed back, asking if human rights existed as law or morality.  That generated a fairly intense discussion on what law “is”, who should decide the law’s contents and by what processes.  Fifty minutes later, I was hooked.  LAW 200 became my favorite class. I would actually wake up happy on class days, eager to see what the morning’s discussion might hold — the Trent Affair’s illumination of customary international law, the divine law origins of treaties (which I’ve made use of subsequently), or one of my favorite casesMortensen v. Peters. We wrestled with the (in)consistency of the ICJ’s approach to the South Africa question, the meaning of “genuine and effective links” for citizenship, plus older chestnuts like the Lotus case. Along the way, Professor Rubin moved us beyond doctrine to legal theory, asking us to work through various iterations of positivist and naturalist methods in original and neo-formulations.  We didn’t just read Hart, we went back to Kelsen (reading Kelsen being fairly atypical in American legal education).

The Spring semester brought piracy and thornier topics like recognition, succession, jurisdiction, and conflicts of law.  A few years later, Monroe Leigh (who along with Cynthia Lichtenstein were my other early mentors) took me on as his associate in part because I’d invoked the Fruehauf case from Rubin’s class to advise a client.  As the semester progressed, my classmates and I debated whether Professor Rubin’s tears in discussing the legality of the bombing of Hiroshima were real (they were) and marveled at how he cared about the “law” as a concept and detested hypocrisy in any form.  None of us will ever forget how Rubin ended the year — re-enacting the scene from A Man for All Seasons where Sir Thomas More responds to William Roper’s call for an arrest even if it means cutting a road through the law to get after the Devil:

Oh? And when the last law was down, and the Devil turned ’round on you, where would you hide, the laws all being flat? This country is planted thick with laws, from coast to coast, And if you cut them down, do you really think you could stand upright in the winds that would blow then? Yes, I’d give the Devil benefit of law, for my own safety’s sake!

Two decades later, I’m still trying to figure out Professor Rubin’s secret ingredient — the persistent Socratic dialogues, the deep dives into doctrine, the marshaling of legal theory in concrete cases, or that undeniable passion for his subject-matter. It may have been something as simple as his gentle voice — a slight hesitancy in speech with an ever-present inquisitive tone.  I confess that my study group spent hours imitating that voice (one of us who shall remain nameless with much success).  We did so without any sense of hostility or meanness — but rather as a mark of our affection for his teaching and our sense that his class was a shared experience.  And it was not by any means an easy one — the reading assignments were enormous with Rubin assuming we all knew the material so we could take the class discussion to a more critical level. I still have my notes (the only ones that I’ve kept). I was amazed to revisit them yesterday to see just how much we covered that year in history, doctrine and theory.  I’ve never had another class like it.

Beyond the classroom, Professor Rubin was a thoughtful adviser.  Conveniently located on the way to the cafeteria, his office door was always open.   He welcomed students in to ask questions about class or the oft-discussed career question – “So, exactly, how does one become an international lawyer?”  He never rushed students off (even if we’d interrupted one of his many Minesweeper computer games). I treasured those conversations, and the chance to soak in his knowledge, his experience, and his many, many books. I have a shelf-long collection of green volumes of the American Journal of International Law in my office today for no other reason than Rubin had one.  In later semesters our conversations deepened and I gained insights into key sources and research methods.  To this day, I’m reluctant to cite a secondary source when a primary one is at hand since I picture Professor Rubin watching over me and shaking his head, reminding me he expects nothing less.

I will always be most indebted to Professor Rubin for his willingness to go beyond advice to action. In the summer of 1994 I was (unhappily) a temporary secretary in Suffolk University’s physical plant. The job was in the sub-basement below the actual basement.  It was hard to see how this was going to advance my dreams of becoming an international lawyer until I got a call from Jeffrey Bates, a partner at Goodwin Proctor at the time.  Another former student of Rubin’s, he needed a legal clerk to do some research, and Professor Rubin had recommended me. Overnight, I transferred onto a large and intensive research project that laid the foundations for all that followed.  I have no doubts that the Goodwin clerkship made it possible for me to join Steptoe and Johnson as an associate, which in turn led me to the State Department, and eventually Temple Law.  All this from one recommendation by Professor Rubin (a recommendation I’d not even asked him to make).  Nor am I alone in this experience.  Generations of Fletcher students sought out the Rubin experience and found themselves entering the field of international law in one way or another. From that introductory class alone, four of us spent time in the Legal Adviser’s office at the U.S. Department of State; others ended up at the United Nations, in foreign ministries, and private practice.  At least three of us followed his path into the academy to teach international law.

Having been a member of international law’s “invisible college” for a few years, I know that Professor Rubin was regarded by other law professors as an academic, known for his work on piracy and unilateral declarations, and some ferocious commentary from the floor at the American Society’s Annual Meeting.  For my part, however, I choose to remember Professor Rubin as a teacher.  In later years, we kept in touch until his health began to fail.  He’d ask me to call him by his first name, Al.  I couldn’t do it.  He was and will always be my professor of international law.  A gentleman, a scholar, but above all a teacher.  May he rest in peace.

The Senate Torture Report

by Jens David Ohlin

At long last, the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence has released the executive “summary” of its report into torture conducted by the CIA. The report is available here.

Here are some first reactions.

The nature and conditions of the interrogations are indeed horrendous. The report specifically concludes that the CIA interrogations were harsher than previously recognized and the report’s allegations certainly back up this finding. Not only did CIA officers use waterboarding more often than was generally known, but other techniques were brutal. I found it shocking that one detainee was shackled to the floor of a cold facility for so long that he died of hypothermia. The report describes the COBALT black site as a “dungeon.”

Some detainees were subject to “rectal rehydration or rectal feeding without documented medical necessity.” The report is hedging a bit by including the phrase “documented.” If the procedures were medically necessary that’s one thing. But if they were not necessary and performed without the consent of the detainee, then they constituted an assault and arguably a sexual assault.

Parts of the report could be used as an apology for the Office of the Legal Counsel in the Justice Department, which authored the torture memos. The report focuses on the fact that the CIA misled the White House and other executive agencies over the nature of the interrogations and the usefulness of the intelligence gleaned from these sessions. The OLC argued that the necessity defense could exculpate CIA officers accused of unlawfully committing torture because the torture was “necessary to save lives.” According to the Senate report, the torture program saved no lives whatsoever, so the OLC argument on necessity was essentially based on a lie. But the report seems to fault the CIA for this, since the OLC opinion was based on the information it received from the CIA. Although clearly the CIA should be criticized if they provided inaccurate information, the report makes it sound as if the OLC was duped by the CIA — which I find highly unlikely. In any event, there are plenty of problems with the OLC’s legal work even if you assume (which I don’t) that torture can yield actionable and reliable intelligence.

Finally, the report documents the use of trained psychologists who were called in to design and oversee aspects of the interrogation program. There has been a lot of scrutiny in the psychology profession over whether this type of work was appropriate for psychologists. The report documents that the design was based on the concept of “learned helplessness” or the idea that detainees would eventually become so compliant out of a sense of helplessness that they would start assisting their interrogators. This is a fiction and a fanciful one at that. It strikes me as pseudo-science (as applied to interrogational torture). The psychologists formed a corporation to provide these services to the CIA on an outsourced basis and were paid $81 million.

The ACLU Endorses Blanket Amnesty for Torture

by Kevin Jon Heller

I am very rarely shocked, but that was my response to yesterday’s editorial in the New York Times by Anthony Romero — the Executive Director of the ACLU — arguing that Obama should pre-emptively pardon all of the high-ranking officials responsible for the Bush administration’s systematic torture regime at Guantanamo Bay, Bagram, Abu Ghraib, various Eastern European black sites, etc. Here is a painful snippet:

Mr. Obama could pardon George J. Tenet for authorizing torture at the C.I.A.’s black sites overseas, Donald H. Rumsfeld for authorizing the use of torture at the Guantánamo Bay prison, David S. Addington, John C. Yoo and Jay S. Bybee for crafting the legal cover for torture, and George W. Bush and Dick Cheney for overseeing it all.

[snip]

The spectacle of the president’s granting pardons to torturers still makes my stomach turn. But doing so may be the only way to ensure that the American government never tortures again. Pardons would make clear that crimes were committed; that the individuals who authorized and committed torture were indeed criminals; and that future architects and perpetrators of torture should beware. Prosecutions would be preferable, but pardons may be the only viable and lasting way to close the Pandora’s box of torture once and for all.

I struggle to discern even the basic logic of this argument. I guess the key is that “[p]ardons would make clear that crimes were committed,” the idea being that you can’t pardon someone for doing something legal. But Romero’s argument has an obvious fatal flaw: “pre-emptive pardons” might make clear that Obama believes Bush administration officials committed torture, but they would say nothing about whether the Bush administration officials themselves believe they did. Romero is not calling for a South-African-style Truth and Reconciliation Commission that would condition amnesty on confession of wrongdoing; he wants to skip the confession part and go right to the amnesty. And the Bush administration’s torturers continue to believe that they did nothing wrong. To the contrary, they still cling to their puerile belief that they were the true patriots, Ubermenschen willing to do what lesser men and women wouldn’t to save the US from the existential threat of terrorism. No amount of evidence will pierce the veil of their self-delusion — and no pardon will have any effect whatsoever on their own perceived righteousness.

That Romero fails to see this is baffling enough. But I’m flabbergasted by his assertion that a blanket amnesty for torture — the correct description of his proposal — is necessary to make clear “that future architects and perpetrators should beware.” Beware what? Not prosecution, unless we are naive enough to believe that there is deterrent value in saying to the Bush administration’s torturers, “okay, we’re giving you a free pass for your international and domestic crimes this time — but next time will be a different story.” I’m sure future Bushes, Cheneys, Rices, Rumsfelds, Yoos, and Bybees will be positively quaking in their boots.

It’s also important to note something that Romero completely fails to address in his editorial — the message blanket amnesty for torture would send to the rest of the world. It’s bad enough that the US portrays itself as a champion of human rights abroad while it simply ignores its obligations under the Torture Convention. But there is a significant difference between lacking the political will to prosecute the Bush administration’s torturers and having the political will to offer them a blanket amnesty. If Obama “pre-emptively pardons” those who committed torture, how could the US ever criticise another government that decides to choose “peace” over justice? Some states in the world can at least plausibly argue that amnestying the previous regime’s crimes is necessary to avoid political destabilisation and future conflict. But the US is not one of them. Republicans and Democrats will not start killing each other if Obama does not pardon the Bush administration’s torturers. Ted Cruz will not lead a convoy of tanks emblazoned with the Texas flag on Washington.

But if Obama does issue Romero’s pardons, you can guarantee that future government officials will turn once again to torture the first time it seems “necessary” to counter a serious threat to the Republic. (Such as ISIS, which will no doubt be exploding Ebola-ridden suicide bombs in downtown Chicago any day now.) That’s the logic of criminality, at least when the crimes are perpetrated by the powerful — impunity simply emboldens them further. Give them an inch, they will take Iraq.

The bottom line is this: you want to make clear that torture is wrong, that torturers are criminals, and that future torturers should beware? You don’t offer blanket amnesty to the Bush administration officials who systematically tortured.

You prosecute them.

Guest Post: The Courts’ Misunderstanding of IHL is Deeper than You Think – A Response to Kevin Jon Heller

by Eric Sigmund

[Eric C. Sigmund is a legal advisor for the international humanitarian law program at the American Red Cross.  He is a 2012 graduate of Syracuse University College of Law and the Maxwell School of Citizenship and Public Affairs at Syracuse University.  All opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author and should not be attributed to the American Red Cross.]

Recently, Kevin Jon Heller published a short piece on Opinion Juris entitled Why Can’t US Courts Understand IHL?  The piece, which addresses Al Warafi v. Obama, suggests that the United States District Court for the District of Columbia, as well as the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals misunderstood and misapplied international humanitarian law as it denied Al Warafi’s habeas petition.  Heller, who seems both exasperated by the misapplication of the law but also sobered by the inevitability of this fact, posits that the Courts ignore clear language governing whether Al Warafi’s was required to carry or wear official identification demonstrating that he was protected as “medical personnel exclusively engaged in the search for, or the collection, or treatment of the wounded or sick, or in the prevention of disease…” as provided in Article 24 of the First Geneva Convention of 1949 (GC I).  While noteworthy, it is Michael Schmitt’s short comment to the post which raises a bigger question about the misapplication of the law and suggests that the Courts weren’t looking in the right place to begin with.

A more comprehensive description of the facts of the case can be found elsewhere but I’ll recap a few to provide context.  Mukhtar Yahia Naji Al Warafi was detained shortly after the invasion of Afghanistan by U.S. and Coalition forces in October 2001.  The U.S. government claimed that Al Warafi was a member of the Taliban who served on the frontlines against the Northern Alliance.  Al Warafi denied this claim, contending that he only provided medical assistance to wounded fighters.  Citing Article 24 and other supporting articles of GC I, petitioner Al Warafi argued that his prolonged detention was unlawful since he was exclusively engaged in the provision of medical care at the time of the invasion and therefore should have been repatriated upon capture.

At first glance, Al Warafi’s reliance on Article 24 seems misplaced as this provision is only applicable in situations of international armed conflict.  Common Article 2, which governs the application of the Geneva Conventions of 1949, states that the treaties are applicable to conflicts between High Contracting Parties or to situations of occupation.  While Afghanistan was a High Contracting Party to the Conventions at the time of the US invasion, the Taliban had not been recognized as the legitimate governing authority of the country.  As a result, the coalition invasion of Afghanistan did not amount to an international armed conflict since force was being directed against a non-state actor even though al-Qaeda and the Taliban were located in a foreign territory and the Taliban exerted control over much of the country.  Accordingly, the status and protections afforded to members of a nation’s armed forces during international armed conflict were not available to members of the Taliban regime.

Assuming for the sake of argument that the legitimacy of the Taliban’s rule was in question, Article 13 of GC I may come into play.  Specifically, Article 13(3) establishes protective status for “[m]embers of regular armed forces who profess allegiance to a Government or an authority not recognized by the Detaining Power.” This article mirrors the language in Article 4 of the Third Geneva Convention of 1949 (GC III) which is an authoritative list of persons who receive combatant immunity and/or prisoner of war status once captured.

While an analysis of this rule would not be used as a basis to classify the conflict, the Commentary to this provision reveals that the framers of the Conventions declined to extend combatant status to groups like the Taliban.  The Conference of Government Experts sought to limit the scope of this clause to prevent “any abusive interpretation which might have led to the formation of armed bands such as the “Great Companies””. The Commentary further notes that the “provision must be interpreted, in the first place, in the light of the actual case which motivated its drafting — that of the forces of General de Gaulle which were under the authority of the French National Liberation Committee”.  It concludes that only those forces which resemble the armed forces of a state Party to the conflict, which are recognized by third party states, and which assume obligations of the government subject to the Conventions may gain belligerent rights and protections afforded to members of the national armed forces.  None of these conditions were met by the Taliban.

The appeal of Al Warafi’s argument is easy to see.  Those who fall into one of the categories enumerated in Article 24 are provided a unique status of “retained personnel”.  Upon capture, such persons should be repatriated unless they are needed to provide medical care to prisoners of war and only for such time as their services are necessary.   With regards to those falling within the purview of Article 24 “repatriation is the rule; retention the exception [p.53]”.

Unfortunately for Al Warafi, the Commentary to Article 24, as well as Army Regulation 190-8 §3-15, specifies that only medical personnel of the armed forces of a nation are entitled to this protection.  Therefore, while the lack of proper identification is not dispositive as to whether Al Warafi was exclusively engaged in the provision of medical aid, the issue becomes moot as the Taliban lacked the proper authority to issue the credentials necessary for Al Warafi to obtain protection under Article 24.  (more…)

So Ukraine May Sue Russia for Violating Anti-Terrorism Financing Convention

by Julian Ku

Things are not going well for Ukraine these days as Russia has managed to solidify its control over Crimea and is continuing support for breakaway regions in Eastern Ukraine. It is very hard to justify the legality of Russia’s actions, so it is not surprising that Ukraine is looking for any and all international fora to sue Russia.

As usual, the great challenge is to find an international court with jurisdiction. Ukraine has added a bunch of new cases to the already crowded Russia docket of the European Court of Human Rights. But I had been wondering how Ukraine planned to bring Russia to other courts like the International Court of Justice since Russia has not accepted the compulsory jurisdiction of that court.

Well, according to this report, it looks like Russia has accepted the compulsory jurisdiction of ICJ for disputes under the International Convention for the Suppression of the Financing of Terrorism.   Article 24(1) of the Convention states:

Any dispute between two or more States Parties concerning the interpretation or application of this Convention which cannot be settled through negotiation within a reasonable time shall, at the request of one of them, be submitted to arbitration. If, within six months from the date of the request for arbitration, the parties are unable to agree on the organization of the arbitration, any one of those parties may refer the dispute to the International Court of Justice, by application, in conformity with the Statute of the Court.

Although Russia could have avoided jurisdiction under paragraph 2 (as the United States did), Russia did not do so. So Russia could face an ICJ case, which I imagine it will ignore.  But I am not sure it could brazenly claim the ICJ lacked jurisdiction, so it will be interesting to see whether Russia decides to litigate (and maybe even file counterclaims)?

Is the Kenyatta Case the End for the ICC?

by Julian Ku

I haven’t had time to comment on the collapse of the ICC Kenyatta prosecution last week.  But friend of blog and Northwestern University law professor Eugene Kontorovich has some interesting thoughts over at National Review.  Read the whole thing, but suffice to say, Eugene thinks this is pretty big body blow to the whole idea that the ICC can be an effective institution at deterring international atrocities.  Not that it is exactly shocking that a head of state accused of atrocities would use every lever in his tool box to block his own prosecution.

In his requiem for the ICC, Eugene writes:

The ICC was born of a Whiggish belief that in the 21st century, a shared commitment to law could end impunity; that telecommunication makes people care more empathetically about distant tragedies; that bad guys will act like Western democratic leaders; and that impartial international bureaucrats could evenhandedly prosecute both sides.

The Kenyatta case reminds us that the alternative to victor’s justice is not super-neutral international justice, but rather no justice.

Ouch!