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Contextualizing the Debate on First Strikes

by Charles Kels

[Charles Kels is a major in the U.S. Air Force. His views do not reflect those of the Air Force or Department of Defense.]

The fascinating and edifying debate between Adil Haque (see here, here, here, and here) and, respectively, Deborah Pearlstein (see here), Jonathan Horowitz (see here and here), and Kevin Heller (see here and here) over the criteria for non-international armed conflict (NIAC) risks overlooking the proverbial elephant in the room: what to do about the phenomenon of states, notably the United States, invoking jus ad bellum principles to both justify and regulate the use of force?

One way of looking at Adil’s “first strike” proposal is as a solution to the problem of so-called “self-defense targeting” or “naked”/“robust” self-defense: it preserves the distinction between the jus belli branches by ensuring, in Daniel Bethlehem’s formulation, that “any use of force in self-defense [is] subject to applicable jus in bello principles governing the conduct of military operations.” Adil’s framework would, at least presumably, complicate the current White House’s efforts to distinguish between “the use of force in armed conflict or in the exercise of the nation’s inherent right of self-defense,” since the very fact of a military strike against certain non-state actors would automatically trigger a NIAC.

Of course, solving one problem can engender others. As Kevin notes, the lex lata is clearly on the side of Adil’s critics in insisting upon a substantive organization and intensity test for NIACs. Perhaps more to the point, the traditional critique of post-9/11 U.S. counterterrorism operations—particularly of the targeted killing variety—has been that a geographically unbounded conflict, whether framed as a war on terrorism or against specific terrorist groups, is essentially asserting the right to render the entire world a warzone. There is at least some (and maybe more than some) validity to this concern, as evidenced by the malleability of extralegal terms such as “areas of active hostilities” that the president can apparently turn on or off depending upon policy preferences.

This is the problem that Jonathan highlights with his Trojan horse analogy: lowering the NIAC threshold triggers humanitarian protections, but also invites wartime rules for targeting and detention. In this view, Adil’s proposal threatens to undo the hard work of those in academia and elsewhere who have persistently rejected the notion of a transnational NIAC without territorial limitations, or what they perceive as powerful states playing fast and loose with the concept of armed conflict in order to inflict lethal force with relative impunity.

Adil’s response to this critique is as brilliant as it is unsettling. Essentially (and to oversimplify), he maintains that the only real consequence of applying international humanitarian law (IHL) to first strikes is to create war crimes accountability for flagrant violations. Otherwise, the co-application of human rights law (IHRL) operates to negate deadly force as a first resort except where states have formally derogated from applicable treaties and such derogating conduct proves necessary (necessity here can only be understood in the IHRL, rather than IHL, sense). Central to Adil’s argument is the notion that IHL does not authorize conduct which it fails to prohibit: comportment with IHL is a necessary, but not sufficient, condition of lawful killing in armed conflict.

It probably comes as no surprise that as a military practitioner, I have deep misgivings about Adil’s cramped reading of IHL (or put another way, his rendering of IHL-IHRL co-application in a manner that appears to swallow IHL in seemingly every case but pitched battle on Napoleonic terrain). His conception of IHL as solely constraining, and never enabling, seems to cut against the way law in general works. To borrow Adil’s driving analogy, is a speed limit of 75 miles per hour not, at least in some way, permission to drive 70?

More specifically, while Adil astutely emphasizes that IHL does not confer “affirmative” legal authorities on states, it does privilege and immunize certain conduct that would otherwise be illegal. This is the point that Deborah made in her colloquy with Adil: IHL provides the legal framework for status-based targeting in armed conflict, not necessarily because it grants the power to kill, but because it removes the presumption that killing is unlawful in virtually all cases besides self-defense. “War,” as Telford Taylor famously wrote, “consists largely of acts that would be criminal if performed in time of peace.” (To Adil’s point that combatant immunity is inapplicable in NIACs anyway, I would only proffer that the convergence of IAC/NIAC norms may increasingly cut against this, and that better minds than mine—notably Ian Henderson and Jen Ohlin—have taken this issue head-on.)

Indeed, what Adil terms the “mistaken view” of states is, in my estimation, the very key to IHL’s cogency and moral force as a self-contained system of licenses and limitations regulating armed conflict and “alleviating as much as possible the calamities of war.” In my own limited experience and understanding, it is hard to overstate the significance of IHL as not just a set of restrictions overlapping and complementing IHRL, but as a moral lodestar critical to defining what it means to be an honorable warrior. Military lawyers tend to perceive IHL less as a barrier or obstacle telling the client what it cannot do—although it serves this function as well—and more “as a prerequisite to the meaningful exercise of power” in the first place. As Geoffrey Corn recently reminded us, IHL “serves to mitigate the potential moral corrosion that is often produced by mortal combat,” in large part by “providing the warrior with a rational and morally grounded framework” undergirding their actions.

It is notable in this regard that many of the pivotal developments in IHL have “owed less to professors, statesmen, or humanitarians, than to soldiers” themselves, resulting in a set of rules both by and for warriors that reflects the accrued wisdom of history and hardship. Armed conflict denotes a specially-defined space wherein soldiers can act effectively, decisively, justly, and—yes—violently pursuant to a unique code of conduct.

This is why it was important to rebut Ryan Goodman when he admirably, but erroneously, argued for a duty to capture under IHL by offering novel conceptions of military necessity and humanity. Under Adil’s proposal, it is worth noting, whether or not IHL imposes a least-restrictive-means requirement wouldn’t terribly matter, since IHRL would sweep in to impose such a requirement in nearly all cases. The difference between Ryan and Adil’s contentions is mostly the locus of the duty to capture—IHL for Ryan and IHRL operating in parallel with IHL for Adil—but the practical effect of undermining clarity in status-based targeting would be similar.

Adil has done us a great service with his erudite discussion shaking up the sometimes stale debate over NIAC definitions. Personally, I find his proposal to lower the NIAC threshold preferable to any suggestion of raising or complicating the categorical IAC threshold, as erring on the side of some realistically effective regulation of violence seems preferable to the prospect of an enforcement vacuum. But we shouldn’t lose sight of the fact that IHL matters, and not just because it puts war crimes culpability on the table. Armed conflict brings into play both the aspects of IHL that human rights lawyers tend to like, and also those that they don’t. Eroding the boundaries between war and peace can’t help but yield this result.

Protection of Civilians Symposium: Protecting Civilians from Explosive Ordnances-An Example of Operational and Legal Challenges

by Kjetil Mujezinovic Larsen

[Kjetil Mujezinović Larsen is Professor of Law, Director of Research, and Deputy Director, at the Norwegian Centre for Human Rights at the University of Oslo. He is the author of «The Human Rights Treaty Obligations of Peacekeepers» (Cambridge, 2012). This post is a part of the Protection of Civilians Symposium.]

By way of introduction, let me state that I agree with Marten’s analysis of the legal obligations of peacekeepers. Therefore, rather than rehearsing the arguments raised by the other contributors to this Symposium, I want to address a concrete issue that illustrates many of the challenges, while also being of great practical importance: The removal of anti-personnel landmines, unexploded cluster munitions, and other explosive ordnances in the area of deployment of a peacekeeping operation. Such explosive ordnances represent a considerable and continuous threat to the civilian population in the affected area, and to protect civilians from this threat clearly falls within the «protection of civilians» paradigm. But does there exist any legal obligation to remove any such ordnances?

There exist a range of international treaty provisions concerning removal and destruction of explosive ordnances. For anti-personnel landmines, Article 5 of the 1997 Mine Ban Treaty requires each State Party to «destroy or ensure the destruction of all anti-personnel mines in mined areas under its jurisdiction or control, as soon as possible»; for cluster munition remnants, Article 4 of the 2008 Cluster Munitions Convention similarly requires States Parties to «clear and destroy, or ensure the clearance and destruction of, cluster munition remnants located in cluster munition contaminated areas under its jurisdiction or control»; and for (other) explosive remnants of war, Article 3 of the 2003 CCW Explosive Remnants of War Protocol (Protocol no. 5) provides a similar rule. All of these provisions also set out requirements to identify and mark contaminated areas, and to take all feasible measures to protect the civilian population against the threat that these ordnances represent.

In 2006, Norwegian media reported allegations that Norwegian military personnel who were involved with removing and destroying anti-personnel mines in the American-led operation “Enduring Freedom” in Afghanistan had omitted removing mines in order to protect American soldiers against attacks. It was further alleged that Afghan civilians were killed by these mines. This was not a United Nations peacekeeping operation, and the allegations were most vehemently denied by Norwegian authorities. But even without considering the veracity of the allegations or the validity of drawing an analogy to peacekeeping operations, one may ask: If a Troop Contributing Nation in this manner omits removing explosive ordnances in an area under its control, and civilians are killed or injured because of the omission, has there then been committed an internationally wrongful act? Has any de jure obligation been violated, and, if so, by whom? Can anybody be held accountable under international law?

The informed reader will here think about the European Court of Human Rights’ inadmissibility decision in the Behrami case. The case concerned an incident where some children while playing found a number of undetonated cluster bomb units, which had been dropped during the NATO bombardment in 1999. When a cluster bomb unit exploded, one boy was killed and another was seriously injured. It was alleged that UNMIK personnel were aware of the location of the units. The application was brought against concrete Troop Contributing Nations, but the Court declared the application inadmissible because the relevant omission was attributable to the United Nations, which fell outside the Court’s jurisdiction ratione personae. Accordingly, the Court didn’t consider whether the European Convention on Human Rights was applicable, and in any case it wouldn’t have had jurisdiction to consider the other conventions mentioned above.

The International Society for Military Law and the Law of War is presently developing a Manual of the International Law in Peace Operations, where this issue has arisen. After consultations with representatives from the UN Department of Peacekeeping Operations, it has become clear that the United Nations does not accept any legal obligation to remove explosive ordnances in areas within the control of an operation. The UN insists that the primary responsibility for demining and removal of explosive remnants lies with the host State, and it is necessary for the mandate to stipulate it if a peace operation should have any responsibilities for demining and removal of explosive remnants. It is worth noting in that regard that peacekeeping operations are rarely given a mandate to actively remove explosive remnants, but that mandates instead focus on providing assistance to other actors that perform the actual demining. By way of example, UN Security Council resolution 1244 (1999) gave KFOR the responsibility of «supervising demining until the international civil presence can, as appropriate, take over responsibility for this task», while resolution 1990 (2011) mandated UNISFA to «provide … de-mining assistance and technical advice». But if the mandate of an operation doesn’t specify a duty, what then applies? The conventions refer to the responsibility of States Parties, but if the United Nations is the responsible entity, then the conventions don’t apply. The United Nations position is that there doesn’t exist enough evidence to establish as a rule under customary international law that any actor that exercises jurisdiction or control over a contaminated area has an obligation to clear that area.

Even with regard to the duty to make feasible efforts to clear, remove or destroy anti-personnel mines, cluster munition remnants and other explosive remnants in affected areas under their control, the UN position is that any legal obligation to do so must stem either from the mandate or from the treaty obligations of a Troop Contributing Nation. The applicability of these treaty obligations for Troop Contributing Nations is a contentious issue that has not been authoritatively solved, and it may be argued that current operational practice does not support a claim that legal obligations to this effect exist during peace operations. If not, a responsibility to clear, remove or destroy anti-personnel mines, cluster munition remnants and other explosive remnants only applies to the extent that the mandate of the operation states this as a responsibility, and even then it may not qualify as a legal obligation.

Protection of civilians in peace opertions is a multifaceted issue. It is not only about the legal right or obligation to use force to protect civilians, it is much more. In the case of removal of explosive ordnances, the question is whether anyone has the positive obligation to protect the civilian population from threats. It can quite plausibly be argued that the United Nations has no such obligation since it’s not a party to any convention and since the relevant rules don’t qualify as customary international law, and that Troop Contibuting States can’t be held accountable when it participates in a UN peacekeeping operation, even if they would otherwise be bound by their treaty obligations. The legal challenges with regard to protection of civilians in peacekeeping operations remain considerable.

Protection of Civilians Symposium: Some Thoughts on the Use of Force by UN Peacekeeping Operations to Protect Civilians

by Marten Zwanenburg

[Marten Zwanenburg is legal counsel at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Netherlands. The views expressed herein are his own and do not necessarily reflect the views of the ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Netherlands.This post is a part of the Protection of Civilians Symposium.]

In this post, I will focus on Mona’s chapter in “Protection of Civilians”, in which she addresses the issue of the use of force by UN peacekeeping operations for the protection of civilians.

Mona’s main point is that the mandate to use force to protect civilians is broad and deeply founded. However, a number of factors may have an inhibiting effect on the use of force by UN peacekeepers beyond self-defence and for the protection of civilians.

She points to a number of legal considerations that may impede carrying out a PoC mandate. While these undoubtedly play a role, I cannot escape the thought that the main obstacle appears to be unwillingness of TCC to put their troops in harm’s way, as well as the limited capabilities and resources available to many missions.

One of the factors Mona argues contributes to peacekeeping operations not fulfilling their PoC mandate is “complacency regarding the legal consequences of failure to fulfil the mandate.” This refers to the ultimate accountability of the Force Commander for both acts of commission and acts of omission when it comes to the use of force by military contingents under the mandate and ROE. This forms an interesting parallel to the question discussed by Siobhan whether the UN mandate imposes a positive obligation on a peacekeeping operation to protect civilians, In this context, Mona states when discussing self-defence that UN forces have not only the right but also the duty, under Chapter VII of the UN Charter, to use force where and when necessary and appropriate to pre-empt, prevent, deter and/or respond to targeted or systematic attacks on civilians within the limits of their capabilities and deployment. She thus appears to see the mandate as imposing a duty to use force in certain circumstances. This in contrast to Siobhan, who argues that a Chapter VII mandate authorizing use of force to protect civilians does not create an obligation to use force (although it may create an obligation to provide protection).

Another consideration Mona mentions is an inhibition to use force arising from fear of criminal accountability or loss of protected status (under IHL). Personally I wonder whether fear of loss of protected status plays an important role. This would assume that peacekeepers have an expectation that their opponents will act in accordance with IHL and respect their protected status under IHL as long as they do not directly participate in hostilities. I wonder whether they really do have such an expectation, for example vis-a-vis armed groups in the DRC or in Mali. Fear of criminal prosecution on the other hand seems a plausible factor in the minds of peacekeepers, judging from my own experience talking to military personnel. Although she doesn’t say to explicitly, Mona probably has fear of prosecution for the use of force in mind. Interestingly, the more protection of civilians is propagated as an obligation, the more likely that not using force may lead to prosecution. In this context, an interesting development in recent years was the (unsuccessful) attempt by relatives of men killed by the Bosnian Serbs in Srebrenica to have three members of Dutchbat prosecuted for not protecting those men.

A final consideration that Mona refers to is unwillingness to use force due to perceived contravention of the basic principles of peacekeeping. Her argument, with which I agree, is that the interpretation and application of these principles have evolved, to varying degrees, in a similar and corresponding manner as operations have evolved to become increasingly robust and operate in volatile environments. I find the development of a nuanced interpretation of consent particularly interesting in this regard. Traditionally, consent of the parties was seen as a fundamental principle of peacekeeping. As the High Level Independent Panel on Peace Operations stated: “In conflict management settings today, where fighting continues and is not confined to two parties, there may be practical obstacles to obtaining consent beyond that of the government. Clearly the consent of the government is fundamental for the deployment of a mission, and this should be reinforced. Obtaining and maintaining the consent of the other parties remains an important objective of any mission and should be pursued to the extent possible.” Even consent of the government is not always as black-and-white as this statement might suggest, however. Such consent may be equivocal and be manifested only to a limited degree in practice. This is illustrated by the recent initial refusal of the government of South Sudan to accept the deployment of additional UNMISS personnel, even though this increase was already part of a resolution adopted by the UN Security Council.

Protection of Civilians Symposium: Some Thoughts on Legal Obligations for UN Peacekeeping Operations to Protect Civilians

by Marten Zwanenburg

[Marten Zwanenburg is legal counsel at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Netherlands. The views expressed herein are his own and do not necessarily reflect the views of the ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Netherlands.This post is a part of the Protection of Civilians Symposium.]

Let me start by saying that the publication of “Protection of Civilians” is very timely. As Ralph says in his introductory post, this topic is a well-established topic in international law but controversial in practice. The latter is particularly true in the context of peacekeeping operations.

In this post, I will focus on Siobhan’s chapter in the book. I will return to Mona’s chapter in a separate post.

Siobhan’s main proposition, with which I fully agree, is that relevant to peacekeeping operations are legal obligations to protect that are largely derived from international human rights law (IHRL), International Humanitarian law (IHL), and the law of international responsibility. I also agree with her that these obligations are relatively weak, but have important operational implications for UN missions. Siobhan’s contribution is especially important because it tries to tease out the latter, thus making the issue concrete.

One very interesting question that she raises, is whether the mandate of a UN mission creates obligations for the mission. In other words, if the mission fails to carry out its PoC task, can it be held responsible for failure to carry out the mandate?

UNSC resolutions clearly are not treaties, and thus a “breach” of a resolution is not a non-performance of a treaty obligation. An alternative could be to regard the mandate as a unilateral undertaking by the UN. Siobhan states that the majority view is that mandates provide an authorization to act but do not, in themselves, create any legal obligation to do so. However, she adds that some provisions in peacekeeping mandates do imply that at least those particular paragraphs are intended to be obligatory, such as e.g. an obligation report gross violations of human rights “immediately”. I have some doubts concerning the latter conclusion, however. For one, I would be very surprised if the drafters of the relevant resolutions considered that if e.g. UNMISS does not “immediately” report gross violations of human rights to the UNSC, this would constitute an internationally wrongful act. Another consideration is that the examples Siobhan gives all relate to things that the operations must do vis-a-vis the organization itself. In other words, they say that one part of the UN must do something vis-a-vis another part of the UN.

A very important conclusion that Siobhan draws from this is that, even in the absence of a specific task in its mandate, a UN peace operation has an obligation to protect. She does not pursue this thought further, but it is nevertheless interesting to do so. It makes me wonder whether it can be argued that this would mean that the UNSC must give every peace operation the task of protecting civilians, or that the UNSC must provide a peace operation with sufficient capabilities to enable a peace operation to carry out its PoC mandate/responsibility.

Siobhan discusses IHRL and IHL as possible sources of legal obligations on UN peace operations to protect civilians. In doing so, she focuses mostly on specific rules under these regimes and their interpretation. The legal basis for the UN being bound by these rules in the first place is discussed only very briefly, and almost seems to be taken for granted. This is of course a perfectly legitimate choice, since a book chapter does not lend itself to detailed analysis of every aspect, but it does make me interested in her underlying argumentation. This question will however probably become increasingly theoretical, as the notion that the UN is bound is increasingly accepted and the UN increasingly implicitly or even explicitly says so itself. In this sense the emphasis that Siobhan places on peremptory norms as those norms by which the UN is bound at a minimum, comes across as quite conservative.

Her reliance on articles 14 and 42 of the DARIO, on the other hand, seems somewhat too liberal. My own feeling is that state and organizational practice may not be sufficient to conclude that these articles have a customary law status (yet).

Another important question raised by Siobhan is the relationship between the obligations of the UN and those of the troop contributing states (TCC). Siobhan states that according to a number of courts, human rights violations of a UN Peacekeeping force may be attributable to the TCC, and possibly to both the UN and the contributing state. In discussing this issue, she focuses primarily on the exercise of (extraterritorial) jurisdiction, rather than on attribution issues. The attribution question is however highly interesting. Siobhan refers inter alia to the Nuhanovic and Mustafic cases. In these cases, the Dutch Supreme Court held that in the very specific circumstances of that case, conduct of Dutch peacekeepers could be attributed to the TCC. One may wonder whether courts would be willing to go even further and hold a TCC responsible for conduct that is a priori attributable to the UN. Arguably, the Bosphorus line of case law of the ECtHR could form the basis for such a finding.

The most important part of Siobhan’s contribution to me is the section on accountability. The usefulness of establishing whether or not the UN has legal obligations to protect civilians loses much of its relevance if there is no forum where a breach of those obligations can be invoked, Siobhan points to the extensive immunity of the UN, which as it is practically applied arguably goes beyond what is reasonable and necessary for the independent functioning of the organization. She rightly stresses that it is important that the Organization establishes mechanisms that promote accountability beyond legal and claims processes. This does not take away from the importance of also having adequate claims processes that take into account the human right of access to a judge. A recent statement by a UN spokesman relating to the Haiti cholera crisis might mean that the UN is looking at ways to increase its accountability but it is clear that it has a long way to go.

Without adequate mechanisms, it may be that judges will start chipping away at the immunity of the UN. Although hitherto judges have been very reluctant to set aside the immunity of the UN in particular, it may be that they will become increasingly willing to do so if the situation persists. Alternatively, claimants may try to turn to TCC, which they may perceive as easier to hold responsible than the UN itself. The Dutch Srebrenica cases could be seen as a first manifestation of this. If this would indeed become the trend, it could have precisely the result that then UNSG Kofi Annan invoked for an expansive reading an application of UN immunity and that is cited by Siobhan: “if we allowed our peacekeepers to be brought to courts and tried over matters like this, that would be the end of peacekeeping.”

Protection of Civilians Symposium: Will an Improved Legal Framework Affect the Situation on the Ground?

by Ray Murphy

[Ray Murphy is a Professor at the Irish Centre for Human Rights, School of Law, National University of Ireland Galway. This post is a part of the Protection of Civilians Symposium.]

Although there have been many pronouncements and reports on the need to protect civilians, it is debatable if this has translated into increased security on the ground. The emphasis seems to have been placed on the principle of protection rather than the actual result. This is a consequence of the gap between rhetoric and reality in many instances.

The legal framework for the protection of civilians in armed conflict can be found in international humanitarian law and international human rights law. I agree with the legal analysis outlined by Prof. Wills. Much of what she outlined was qualified, as many of the legal issues are not so clear-cut. Although it is evident that peacekeeping operations must comply with international human rights obligations, the scope and extent of the obligations is ambiguous. Nevertheless, human rights law has potentially more relevance for the protection of civilians.

I am not convinced that a ‘paper trail’ of security assessments and responses will necessarily have a huge impact. My fear is that it will be manipulated by military and other mission components and a policy of ‘cover yourself’ will be adopted by those on the ground. In this way a paper trail could even facilitate inertia rather than spur components to real action.

At the same time, the issues raised by Mona Khalil have much validity. Command and control of multinational operations and the related issue of attribution or responsibility also remain fundamental to UN peacekeeping. Operations can also be characterised by bureaucracy and a top-down approach to decision making that is cumbersome and inefficient. This can often be invoked as an excuse for inaction.

Obviously we all want to see a more effective PoC policy implemented. The UN human rights due diligence policy and launch of Human Rights Up Front campaign have helped. However, some of the confusion might be resolved by a Secretary-General’s bulletin setting out the applicability of human rights provisions to peace operations. Military components prefer to evaluate situations through the prism of international humanitarian law as this is more familiar territory in most cases. However, mainstreaming human rights in peace operations should be the priority and an international human rights framework outlined governing all UN operations. A bulletin could help clarify a range of issues, including the use of force and the positive obligation to protect, along with detention and reporting, and investigating violations and abuses.

When the UN finds itself confronting armed criminals, the human rights framework is the most appropriate. This does not preclude the triggering of international humanitarian law if and when a situation escalates to that of armed conflict.

Robust forms of peacekeeping involving the use of force, whether in self-defence or defence of the mandate, are common today. While there is a link between neutralizing armed groups and protection of civilians, they are not the same thing and offensive military operations risk retaliation against vulnerable civilians.

The so called Brahimi report had expressed dissatisfaction with the inability of peacekeepers to prevent violence and attacks on civilians. It deployed the ‘mismatch between desired objectives and resources’ and recommended the adoption of a PoC mandate and the capacity to enforce this in future operations (United Nations, Report of the Panel on UN Peacekeeping Operations, UN, A/55/305-S/2000/809, 23 August 2000, paras. 62-63). In so doing it was also blurring the distinction between traditional peacekeeping and peace enforcement operations. Many of the major contributing states were open to such a policy shift as it had become evident that they would no longer agree to participation in inadequately prepared and supported operations. This was especially so among the powerful states that had traditionally avoided participation in UN led operations and had a preference for UN approved missions led by NATO or a selected lead nation.

Any reasonable interpretation of the mandate and series of UN resolutions prior to the creation of the Force Intervention Brigade (FIB) in the DRC provide ample authority for coercive measures beyond the traditional self-defence mode. Unlike the creation of the FIB, the special measures (e.g. joint protection teams, community alert mechanisms, mobile operating bases) adopted by MONUC/MONUSCO, albeit with limited effectiveness, did not meet with opposition from humanitarian agencies or other third parties and did improve the situation for civilians.   It will be interesting to see how the Regional Protection Brigade in South Sudan interprets its PoC mandate and implements this on the ground. How will it distinguish itself from the FIB in the DRC?

A recurring flaw in missions to date has been the lack of commitment of the troop contributing states to the mandate. There appears to be a similar situation with regard to some contingent part of UNMISS in South Sudan. Furthermore, as discussed by Mona Khalil, contingent commanders consult with national governments before carrying out military operations or following the orders of the Force Commander. Such behaviour is common in all peacekeeping operations and is often to ensure that the action being pursued by the UN operation is not inconsistent with national policy as much as interests. Separate or parallel chains of command are not conducive to military effectiveness.

I am not sure that making commanders and other senior personnel criminally accountable for their failure to act would work in practice. But I would suggest adopting the human rights mechanism of naming and shaming contingents or components that failed to take appropriate action to fulfil the PoC mandate when they had the means and opportunity to do so. I would suggest that national authorities take disciplinary measures against commanders for dereliction of duty where appropriate, but looking at the response to sexual abuse and exploitation to date, this is not likely to be very successful.

After the widespread killings at the village of Mutarule in the DRC in 2014, the MONUSCO Force Commander was reported to have become very engaged and instructions were issued telling contingents that such atrocities were not acceptable and should be stopped. Such inaction reflects the broader culture of lack of commitment and even indifference displayed by military contingents part of the Force.

What is most needed is engagement and commitment by all those military, police and civilians in positions of authority. Without that, an improved legal framework is unlikely to change the situation on the ground.

Protection of Civilians Symposium: Why are UN Peacekeepers Failing to Protect Civilians?

by Mona Khalil

[Mona Khalil is a Legal Advisor with Independent Diplomat (ID) and formerly a Senior Legal Officer in the UN Office of the Legal Counsel; the views expressed herein are her own and do not necessarily represent the views of either ID or the UN. This post is a part of the Protection of Civilians Symposium.]

The protection of civilians (POC) mandate in UN peacekeeping was borne out of the failed UN mandates and genocidal massacres in Srebrenica and Rwanda.  Since the first POC mandate was entrusted to UNAMSIL in 1999, the Security Council (UNSC) has consistently authorized UN peacekeeping operations (UNPKOs) with explicit POC mandates and with explicit Chapter VII authority to use force to fulfill that mandate. UNPKOs no longer lack the authority, and in fact have a responsibility, to protect civilians from threats of physical violence.

Despite the POC mandates’ intended message that, never again, would UN forces stand by while civilians are being massacred in their areas of deployment, both the  UN Office of Internal Oversight Services and more recently the High-Level Panel on Peace Operations expressed serious concerns regarding the failure of UNPKOs to fulfill their POC mandate. The most recent events  in Malakal and Juba in South Sudan tragically highlight these failures and underline these concerns.

Both the relevant UNSC resolutions and the applicable rules of engagement (ROE) confirm the authority to use force, up to and including deadly force, to protect civilians against physical violence and the threat thereof.  Commanders and contingents alike have too often  failed to exercise their authority or to fulfill their duties in this regard. Such failures may, at least in part, be attributable to the following legal considerations.

A. Confusion regarding the legal terminology of the POC mandate

Several parts of the standard formulation authorizing UNPKOs to use force to protect civilians have been the subject of differing interpretations in the field — including a degree of confusion and possible conflation of three related but distinct protection concepts: R2P, the protected status of civilians under IHL, and the POC mandate.  While R2P is limited to genocide, war crimes, ethnic cleansing, and crimes against humanity, the POC mandate covers any and all forms of physical violence. While IHL imposes a negative obligation to avoid harming civilians,  the POC mandate involves an affirmative responsibility to proactively protect them from harm.   Moreover, while the proviso ‘within its capabilities and areas of deployment’ is intended to recognize the constraints on the ability of UNPKOs to deploy throughout the entire territory, the proviso has been misused as an excuse for unwilling military contingents to remain on their bases or in the immediate vicinity thereof fearing or failing to go to where the danger is.

B. Undue reliance on the primary responsibility of the host State

The phrase “without prejudice to the responsibility of the host Government” is intended to confirm that the UNPKO’s POC mandate does not relieve the host Government of its ultimate responsibility for the protection of civilians.  While the POC mandate includes assisting host governments to fulfill their responsibility, it also requires UNPKOs to act independently when the host Government is unable or unwilling, and even to take action against host Government forces where and when they pose a threat to civilians.  The POC mandate therefore applies “irrespective of the source of the threat”.  The first explicit reference to this understanding of the POC mandate appeared in UNSC resolution 2155 (2014), which mandated UNMISS to protect civilians under threat of physical violence “irrespective of the source of such violence’. Accordingly, the UNMISS forces cannot rely on any such legal obstacle to explain their failure to protect civilians from South Sudanese government forces in Malakal and Juba.

C. Failure to respect the command authority of the UN Force Commander

Pursuant to the UN ROE, the Force Commander has command responsibility to order the necessary and permissible use of force to fulfill the POC mandate.  To the extent that UN military contingents continue to be subject to their national command and exclusive criminal jurisdiction,  however, many contingents and their commanders do not fully accept the unified command and operational control of the UN Force Commander..  The resulting dual lines of authority undermine the authority of the UN Force Commander, the responsiveness of national contingents to his or her orders, and ultimately the credibility and effectiveness of the UNPKO. National caveats imposed by the TCCs further undermine the unified command and impede the uniform application of the ROE.

D. Lack of accountability

Under the POC operational concepts and strategies,  UNPKOs are intended to be constantly assessing threats and proactively taking measures to prevent, pre-empt or respond to those threats. The consistent reluctance or failure to use authorized force leads to escalation by virtue of the consequent perception that UN forces are unwilling or unable to act thereby undermining the UNPKO’s deterrent capacity and inviting further attacks against civilians as well as against the UNPKO itself. There has been little to no accountability for the failure of UNPKOs to fulfill their POC mandates or for the failure of UN Force Commanders to fulfill their command responsibility.  Equally disturbing is the lack of accountability for failures to obey the UN Force Commander’s lawful orders when and where they are duly given.

E. Inhibition to use force arising from fear of losing protected status under IHL

A UNPKO may indeed become a party to an ongoing non-international armed conflict where and when it engages in sustained or intensive armed hostilities, whether acting in self-defense or in furtherance of the POC mandate. In reality, when peacekeepers are deployed to neutralize threats in operating environments were there is no peace to keep, the likelihood of that eventuality is exponentially increased. The eventuality becomes an inevitability where the mandate itself places the UN forces in direct opposition with named actors, as was the case with MONUSCO in the DRC.

F. Constraints arising from traditional principles of UN peacekeeping

Many TCCs often invoke the traditional principles of UN peacekeeping to avoid using force in a manner consistent with the demands of the POC mandate failing to recognize the evolving nature of UN peacekeeping and the related principles which have evolved with it.

Consent: Host country consent continues to be the primary distinction between peacekeeping and peace enforcement. While the Security Council must invoke Chapter VII in the operative paragraphs authorizing UNPKOs to use force beyond self-defence, by referring to Chapter VII in the chapeau of an establishing resolution, the Security Council obfuscates the fact that the UNPKO and its mandate are being established with the consent of the Government further blurring the distinction between UNPKOs and the Chapter VII enforcement operations.

Impartiality: To the extent that the POC mandate requires UN peacekeepers to protect civilians regardless of the source of the threat, as a matter of policy, the POC framework arguably upholds the principle of impartiality. As a matter of practice, however, the unwillingness or inability of UN forces to respond to clear violations by host government forces, as we have seen most recently in South Sudan, calls into question both  the impartiality and the credibility of UNPKOs.

Self-defense: The inherent right of self-defence remains the primary basis for the use of force by UN peacekeepers and the use of force  remains a last resort in carrying out the  POC mandate. While the UNSC does not expect, and the levels of troops authorized do not allow, UNPKOs to prevent or respond to every threat within the territory, the UNSC, at a minimum, expects UNPKOs to act in the face of large scale and/or systematic attacks against civilians. Along with the mandate and authority given to them, the UN forces acquire a responsibility to use all necessary means including deadly force, to pre-empt, prevent, deter and/or respond to targeted or systematic attacks on civilians within their areas of deployment.

Conclusion

In addition to heinous acts of commission, including sexual exploitation and abuse by UN peacekeepers, which destroy the moral credibility of UNPKOs, acts of omission, such as the repeated failures to protect civilians from physical violence, undermine their operational credibility. More than fifteen years after the first explicit POC mandate was authorized by the UNSC, legitimate questions linger regarding UNPKOs readiness, willingness and ability to effectively carry out the POC mandate. While the willingness of TCCs to put their troops in harm’s way in the service of peace is noble, it cannot be taken for granted where and when such peace is absent or elusive. Nonetheless, POC is not only an explicitly mandated authority accorded to UN peacekeepers but also an affirmative duty expected from them.

Protection of Civilians Symposium: The Obligation to Protect Civilians     

by Siobhan Wills

[Siobhán Wills is a Professor of Law at the Transitional Justice Institute, Ulster University, Northern Ireland. This post is a part of the Protection of Civilians Symposium.]

In 2014 the UN Office of Internal Oversight Services published an ‘evaluation of the implementation and results of Protection of Civilians mandates in United Nations peacekeeping operations’ which:

noted a persistent pattern of peacekeeping operations not intervening with force when civilians are under attack…Partly as a result…civilians continue to suffer violence and displacement in many countries where United Nations missions hold protection of civilians mandates.

One of the many questions arising from this report is whether UN peacekeepers that have a mandate authorizing them to use force to provide protection are legally obliged to take action to protect civilians that are being attacked or about to be attacked.

My chapter in Protection of Civilians (eds Haidi Willmot, Ralph Mamiya, Scott Sheeran, and Marc Weller), argues that peacekeepers do have protection obligations but they are not obliged to use force to protect civilians even if the Security Council resolution mandating the mission authorizes them to do so, and even if the mission is well positioned to be able to use force in the particular circumstances. This is not a shortcoming in the legal regulation of peacekeeping. If peacekeepers routinely avoid using force to protect civilians when to do so would save lives, host state residents are unlikely to hold the mission in high regard; but to legally oblige a commander to use force to protect civilians on every occasion on which it would be feasible to do so, would likely cause serious operational problems and might prompt attacks on civilians in order to tie up mission personnel.

Traditionally peacekeeping mandates have been regarded as having a powers-creating character that does not create any obligation to act. Some peacekeeping mandates contain paragraphs that it would be difficult to interpret as merely powers-creating. For example S/Res 1996 authorized the UN Mission in South Sudan (UNMISS) to ‘report immediately’ gross violations of human rights to the Security Council. It makes no sense to interpret ‘report immediately’ as purely powers-creating unless the addressee is normally prohibited from reporting immediately – otherwise the adverb ‘immediately’ would be redundant.  But, such inconsistences notwithstanding, Security Council resolutions as a whole do not appear to be drafted with a view to creating obligations. The phrase ‘all necessary means,’ which is used to authorize force, is a euphemism and hence inherently opaque as to the scope and nature of the obligations that follow from its use. But the fact that a Chapter VII mandate authorizing use of force to protect of civilians does not create an obligation to use force (even if it is the only means of saving lives), does not mean that the mission has no obligation to provide protection pursuant to the ‘all necessary means’ authorization set out in the mandate.

Although the UN is not a party to any international treaties, it has a duty to uphold the human rights principles promulgated through the human rights regime it has created. At a minimum the UN is bound by peremptory norms, by its Charter, and by its own human rights undertakings as reflected in the resolutions and bulletins it has promulgated concerning itself. Troop-contributing states are directly bound by the human rights treaties to which they are party but a troop contributing state’s positive obligations under those treaties only apply extraterritorially to the extent that the state’s jurisdiction extends to the situation, which for the most part is based on whether the state has control over territory or over persons. But the human rights obligations of the UN itself (as distinct from the obligations of its member states) are not limited by territory – it has none. Provided the UN’s protection activities do not exceed the authorization set out in the mandating resolution, the Security Council mandate counters any ‘sovereignty’ based objections from the host state.

The Aide Memoire to the Secretary-General’s Human Rights Up Front (HRUF) Plan of Action states that  ‘[p]rotecting human rights is a core purpose of the United Nations and defines our identity as an organization.’ The HRUF Plan of Action ‘is designed primarily for settings where the UN does not have a political or peacekeeping mission’ but ‘its spirit can and should also be applied to “mission settings”’. The HRUF Plan of Action states that the UN will ‘put the imperative to protect people, wherever they may be, at the heart of UN strategies and operational activities.’ This is a clear positive commitment on the part of the UN to protecting human rights and protecting people from gross violations of those rights. In the case of Chapter VII mandated peacekeeping missions this commitment is usually backed up by Security Council authorizations to use ‘all necessary means.’ S/Res1894 states that ‘mandated protection activities must be given priority in decisions about the use of available capacity and resources.’

The existence of a protection of civilians mandate gives rise to the presumption that the mission is aware that civilians are at risk. In the event of a mission’s failure to protect, it will not be enough for the UN to say after the event that it tried to uphold the commitment it has made to ‘protecting people wherever they may be:’ it must be able to show it by producing evidence of the protection plan drawn up in response to the know threat to civilians and the efforts made to implement it. UN missions, as traditionally conceived, were thought of as having predominantly negative obligations, essentially to do no harm – and therefore they had considerable flexibility within the confines of its mandate as to how that mandate should be implemented, and also as to how decisions relating to the mandate are made, documented, and communicated. But an obligation to protect cannot be achieved simply by refraining from action. In order to fulfil a positive obligation to protect, in a situation where it is known that that attacks on civilians are likely, the mission must assess the probability, seriousness, and location of likely attacks; draw up plans to counter the risks to civilians that it has concluded are likely; document those plans; and pass that information up the chain of command to a level of seniority that can take responsibility for approving the effectiveness of the plans in light of the scale of likely harm. The mission is not obliged to use force; but it is obliged to carry out its protection plans, unless there is some intervening reason that renders the original response plan ineffective or harmful. Therefore, if the UN undertakes to protect people from violence and the Security Council has mandated the mission to use ‘all necessary means’ to provide that protection, that undertaking should shape the way the mandate is carried out both at the macro level (e.g. initial assessment of risks and operational planning in light of them) and at the micro-level (e.g. documenting and reporting of protection plans and of the steps taken to implement them at local level), and the continuous updating of protection plans in light of the continuous assessment of risks, assessed at both local and general level.

Human Rights Hypocrisy — Special Rapporteur for Torture Edition

by Kevin Jon Heller

PassBlue published a very disturbing article yesterday about nominations for five vacant UN Special Rapporteur positions. According to the article, although the President of the Human Rights Council, South Korea’s Choi Kyonglim, has endorsed four of the selection committee’s five first choices, he has refused to endorse its first choice for Special Rapporteur on Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment, Karim Khan QC, in favour of the committee’s second choice, Nils Melzer. There is no question Melzer is a wonderful choice — he’s an accomplished scholar, has vast practical experience with the ICRC, and is a great person. The article suggests, however, that there may be a darker reason for Choi not endorsing Khan — Khan’s defence work at various international tribunals:

Khan has worked in the prosecutor’s office of the international criminal tribunals for the former Yugoslavia and Rwanda, two courts created to try perpetrators of grave crimes in the Yugoslav wars and Rwandan genocide of the 1990s. He has also represented victims in the Extraordinary Chambers of the Courts of Cambodia formed to prosecute culprits of the Cambodian genocide of the late 1970s.

Khan also has a rich history of defending suspects of mass atrocity crimes. His current clients include William S. Ruto, deputy president of Kenya, who until April was on trial at the International Criminal Court in The Hague, charged with crimes against humanity. Khan has also worked on the defense of Jean-Pierre Bemba, a former vice president of the Democratic Republic of the Congo. In June, Bemba was found guilty by the court of war crimes and crimes against humanity.

One academic critic, based in Britain, who spoke on condition of anonymity, said that Khan had not showed enough dedication to protecting victims, given his defense of alleged criminals. This work, the person said, could clash with Khan’s role as special rapporteur if he had been nominated by the council president, should accusations be made against Ruto or other potential clients of his. (The Ruto case was vacated because of witness interference, but could be reopened if new evidence surfaces.)

In his application for the UN role, Khan wrote that “having acted for all sides in cases where torture is alleged, not only helps demonstrate my independence and ability to be impartial, but I believe that it can lend additional credibility to my role as Special Rapporteur.”

The case involving Ruto was deeply marred by witness intimidation, according to Fatou Bensouda, the chief prosecutor of the International Criminal Court, and judges who heard the case. Fergal Gaynor, who represents victims in the court’s case against Uhuru M. Kenyatta, the president of Kenya, has also questioned the extent of Khan’s commitment to justice for victims of violence.

“Bribery and intimidation of witnesses can and does collapse legitimate cases,” he said. “It is fair to question whether Mr. Khan appreciates how interference with witnesses can completely deprive torture victims of the ability to know the truth about the crimes committed against them, to have the wrongfulness of the torture publicly acknowledged, and to receive fair compensation for that torture.”

In an interview in 2014, Khan said of witness problems in the case, “I’m not sure witnesses have been and are being intimidated in this case. As I said, I have prosecuted and defended and represented the victims, and every single case I’ve been involved in has been headlined by ‘This is unprecedented witness intimidation’ and ‘unprecedented’ this and that.”

John Washburn, convener of the American Non-Governmental Organizations Coalition for the International Criminal Court, based at Columbia University, said the issue was “whether Khan’s actions as Ruto’s defense counsel displayed values and judgments that reflect on his suitability as rapporteur.”

The article is careful to avoid directly attributing these ideas to Choi. But given that Khan is the only first-choice candidate Choi has refused to endorse, it seems highly likely that Khan’s defence work is the reason. If so, that’s shocking. Defending individuals accused of serious international crimes is not inconsistent with human-rights work — it is human-rights work. It’s not an accident that Art. 14 of the ICCPR protects a defendant’s right to a fair trial. After all, show trials are a hallmark of repressive states, from Bangladesh to the United States.

This should be Human Rights 101. For some reason, though, the same “human-rights activists” who condemn unfair domestic criminal trials — special courts in Bangladesh and military commissions in the United States alike — fall silent when it comes to international trials. The tacit assumption — which should embarrass anyone who claims to care about human rights — is that an effective defence is unnecessary at international trials, because investigators always do a good job, the OTP is always motivated by a profound love of justice, judges are always infallible, and defendants are always guilty. All of those things are sometimes true. Perhaps even usually true. But not always. Sometimes an international tribunal doesn’t do its job and an innocent person is prosecuted. And it is precisely the job of skilled advocates like Khan to make sure those defendants are not convicted — or convicted only for crimes they actually committed.

I would say this about any defence attorney. (And of course I’m biased, having been one myself.) But it’s particularly appalling that Khan would be vilified for doing his job — anonymously, of course, because the British academic quoted above is a coward who wants to ensure his slander has no professional consequences. (As if anyone really cares what we academics think!) Khan has a sterling reputation as a defence attorney, no matter how contentious some of his trials might have been. I have never seen anyone claim — nor is there even the slightest evidence — that Khan was involved in the Kenyan government’s misconduct in Ruto. And I say that despite being completely convinced that the Kenyan government did, in fact, commit serious misconduct. The comments by Gaynor and Washburn are thus completely misplaced — and all too typical of the tendency, possessed by people who should know better, to conveniently forget that the right to a defence is a human right. But at least Gaynor and Washburn have the courage to attach their names to their opinions!

Finally, although it shouldn’t matter, it is worth remembering — as the article points out, to its credit — that Khan had a distinguished career as an international prosecutor before moving to the other side of the courtroom. He even has experience representing victims. Does he suddenly forget the importance of victims whenever he is retained to act for a defendant? Or does he simply understand that the rights of defendants are no less important than the rights of the other parties to a criminal trial?

I have no doubt Melzer, whom I’ve had the pleasure to know for more than a decade and think the world of, will make an excellent Special Rapporteur. But Khan would have made a great one, as well — and we are left to simply speculate how skilled Khan would have been at convincing states to cooperate with him, given his rich experience defending senior government officials. I hope, despite how it appears, that Choi preferred Melzer for reasons other than Khan’s work as a defence attorney. But if that is why he bypassed Khan, anyone who cares about human rights — all human rights — should be appalled.

Protection of Civilians Symposium: An Overview of Legal and Practical Challenges of Protecting Civilians in Peacekeeping

by Ralph Mamiya

[Ralph Mamiya is team leader for the Protection of Civilians Team in the UN Department of Peacekeeping Operations but writes here in a purely personal capacity, and the views expressed do not represent official positions of his Department or the United Nations.]

The protection of civilians is both a well-established topic in international law and also a relatively new and controversial phenomenon in practice. It incorporates aspects of international humanitarian law, international human rights law, international refugee law, as well as the law of jus in bello and the use of force.

Protection of Civilians, a new volume from Oxford University Press co-edited by Haidi Willmot, Scott Sheeran, Marc Weller and me, examines the range of law of practice that impact this topic. The book brings together a number of respected scholars and practitioners, including Jean-Marie Guéhenno, Andrew Clapham, Patrick Cammaert and Hugo Slim, to discuss the protection of civilians from a variety of perspectives. An important aim of this volume is to provide a comprehensive set of views on civilian protection, gathering together views from the often-disparate worlds of international law, humanitarian practice, diplomacy and peacekeeping, and to forge greater coherence.

The full spectrum of civilian protection, however, may be too much to cover in a brief symposium, and we chose to focus discussion on a highly topical but rarely discussed (from a legal perspective) issue: the protection of civilians by peacekeepers. This is topic particularly important to me in work on peacekeeping, though everything in this symposium is written in a personal capacity and does not necessarily reflect the views of the United Nations.

The Security Council first provided a mandate “to protect civilians from the imminent threat of physical violence” in 1999 for the UN Mission in Sierra Leone. Since that time, the Council has provided nearly every UN peacekeeping mission with a protection mandate and today more than 95 per cent of the approximately 100,000 blue helmets around the world work in missions with this mandate. The UN, the United States and NATO have all recently adopted protection of civilians doctrine.

Recent years have highlighted the challenges posed by the protection of civilians mandate, however. Incidents in South Sudan have highlighted the potentially devastating consequences for civilians when peacekeepers are unable to protect them. A 2014 evaluation of the UN Office of Internal Oversight Services found challenges in command and control and confusion over roles and responsibilities. Many of these challenges are practical and operational, as detailed in a recent report from the High-level Independent Panel on Peace Operations; they challenges are inherent to assembling an expansive and diverse set of military and civilian actors from different countries, often working in hugely difficult situations.

Legal aspects of the protection of civilians mandate are rarely discussed, however. Does the Security Council’s language, which is often emphatic, create legal obligations for peacekeepers? If so, of what kind? Recent cases in European courts (see here) have begun to address failures by peacekeepers, including the Mothers of Srebrenica decision that held Dutch peacekeepers responsible under national jurisdiction. Notably, however, these cases did not involve the modern protection of civilians mandate.

Our panelists will address these issues in the coming week. We will begin with posts from two contributors to the book, Siobhan Wills, Professor of Law at the University of Ulster, and Mona Khalil, Legal Advisor to the diplomatic advisory firm Independent Diplomat and a former UN Senior Legal Officer. We will also hear from Professor Ray Murphy of NUI Galway, Marten Zwanenburg, Legal Counsel for the government of the Netherlands, and Professor Kjetil Mujezinović Larsen of the University of Oslo.

On behalf of the other editors, let me express my gratitude to Opinio Juris for what I have no doubt will be an interesting symposium, and many thanks to the esteemed panelists we will have with us for the next few days.

Protection of Civilians Symposium

by Jessica Dorsey

This week, we are hosting a symposium on the Protection of Civilians, a volume recently published by Oxford University Press, edited by Haidi Willmot, United Nations Department of Peacekeeping Operations; Ralph Mamiya, team leader, Protections of Civilians at the United Nations’ Department of Peacekeeping Operations; Scott Sheeran, Senior Lecturer, Director of the LLMs and MAs in International Human Rights, School of Law and Human Rights Centre, University of Essex; and Marc Weller, Professor of International Law and International Constitutional Studies, at the University of Cambridge, and the Director of the Lauterpacht Centre for International Law.

The volume’s description:

The protection of civilians is a highly topical issue at the forefront of international discourse, and has taken a prominent role in many international deployments. It has been at the centre of debates on the NATO intervention in Libya, UN deployments in Darfur, South Sudan, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and on the failures of the international community in Sri Lanka and Syria. Variously described as a moral responsibility, a legal obligation, a mandated peacekeeping task, and the culmination of humanitarian activity, it has become a high-profile concern of governments, international organisations, and civil society, and a central issue in international peace and security.

This book offers a multidisciplinary treatment of this important topic, harnessing perspectives from international law and international relations, traversing academia and practice. Moving from the historical and philosophical development of the civilian protection concept, through relevant bodies of international law and normative underpinnings, and on to politics and practice, the volume presents coherent cross-cutting analysis of the realities of conflict and diplomacy. In doing so, it engages a series of current debates, including on the role of politics in what has often been characterized as a humanitarian endeavour, and the challenges and impacts of the use of force.

The work brings together a wide array of eminent academics and respected practitioners, incorporating contributions from legal scholars and ethicists, political commentators, diplomats, UN officials, military commanders, development experts and humanitarian aid workers. As the most comprehensive publication on the subject, this will be a first port of call for anyone studying or working towards a better protection of civilians in conflict.

In addition to Ralph Mamiya’s introductory and concluding remarks, there will be posts from Siobhan Wills, Mona Ali Khalil, Ray Murphy, Marten Zwanenburg and Kjetil Mujezinović Larsen. We look forward to the discussion from our contributors and the ensuing commentary from our readers.

Emerging Voices Symposium 2016 Comes to a Close

by Jessica Dorsey

The summer is coming to a close and so is our fourth annual Emerging Voices Symposium. We have featured fantastic posts from emerging scholars, practitioners and students over the course of the summer and a roundup follows of what it is that they have covered.

Alexandra Hofer started our 2016 edition off with her post on assessing the role of the European Union as an enforcer of international law in the Ukranian crisis, concluding that both the EU and Russia ought to change their practices in order to escape the stalemate in which they currently find themselves. Wolfgang Alschner weighed in on a novel approach to dealing with the complexities of international law in his post on computational analysis of international law, specifically focusing on text-as-data tools for investigating international investment agreements.

Our next post featured an analysis by Andrea Bowdren of the trial of Ahmed Al Faqi Al Mahdi before the International Criminal Court, which represented a series of firsts for international law and justice. as Al Mahdi is the first individual from Mali brought before the ICC, the first Islamic extremist to face charges at the ICC, the first individual to be prosecuted solely for cultural destruction as a war crime, and the first individual who indicated an intention to plead guilty to an ICC charge (which he subsequently did). John Coyle asked whether foreign investors can enforce international investment law in U.S. courts, and after a careful analysis concluded that the government should at least consider the possibility that an FCN treaty might impose legally enforceable limitations on its freedom of action.

The Symposium continued with Jenny Poon’s insightful contribution discussing whether the margin of appreciation accorded to European Union Member States is too wide, which may lead to violations of international law and used the topic of asylum as a lens in which to analyze this question, ultimately calling for more clarification on the margin of appreciation in order to protect the rights of the vulnerable. Myriam Feinberg weighed in with a thoughtful analysis of the role of international organizations in the context of sovereignty in the age of global terrorism, contending that this can be examined in the wider context of state sovereignty, even though a number of international law analyses consider the concept of State sovereignty obsolete or in need of reform.

Amina Adanan discussed the role of national prosecutors in the context of domestic regulation of universal jurisdiction, concluding, in particular, a balance must be struck between prosecutorial discretion and the need to prevent impunity for the worst atrocities, after a thorough analysis. Finally, Grazyna Baranowska analyzed the European Court of Human Rights and women affected by the disapperance of their relatives, positing several alternatives for action and concluding that actions that countries should take in order to address specific needs of female relatives of disappeared persons face could be included in ECtHR judgments.

Thank you again to all of our participants. We hope you have all enjoyed reading and interacting with the contributions in our fourth annual Emerging Voices Symposium.

Emerging Voices: The European Court of Human Rights and Women Affected by Enforced Disappearances of Their Relatives

by Grazyna Baranowska

[Grazyna Baranowska is a Senior Researcher at the Poznań Human Rights Centre of the Institute of Law Studies of the Polish Academy of Sciences.]

The nature of enforced disappearances is that it affects whole families, rather than only the individuals who disappeared. While the majority of the forcibly disappeared are men, these disappearances have a strong economic, socials and psychological effects on the wives/partners of the disappeared.

The impact of enforced disappearances on women has been recognized by the Working Groups on Enforced and Involuntary Disappearances. In the Preamble to the General comment on women affected by enforced disappearances it is stated that:

“(…) gender equality and the empowerment of women are essential tools to address the situation that women victims of enforced disappearances face. A gender perspective is crucial in explaining, understanding and dealing with unique disadvantages and obstacles that women face in the exercise of their human rights and to outline solutions to try and address these issues. (…)The experience of the Working Group demonstrates that the effects of enforced disappearances are lived and faced in different ways by women and girls due to gender roles, which are deeply embedded in history, tradition, religion and culture (…).”

International law considers the ‘victims of enforced disappearances’ to be both the disappeared persons and any individuals who have suffered harm as a direct result of a disappearance (art. 24.1 International Convention for the Protection of All Persons from Enforced Disappearance, ICPPED). Even though ICPPED does not have a gendered perspective, the effects of disappearances on women had been discussed since the second session of the Committee of Enforced Disappearances in March 2012. The results of these discussions have been included in the document on relationship with NGO’s: the Committee encouraged integration of a gender perspective in submissions and consultation of women’s organization and women human rights defenders.

The European Court of Human Rights also recognizes that disappearances violate  the rights of a disappeared persons’ families As stated by the ECtHR: “The phenomenon of disappearances imposes a particular burden on the relatives of missing persons who are kept in ignorance of the fate of their loved ones and suffer the anguish of uncertainty” (Varnava v. Turkey). In Çakıcı v. Turkey, the ECtHR  found that art. 3 of the ECHR was violated with regard to the disappeared persons’ relatives when their suffering has a character and dimension distinct from the emotional distress stemming inevitably from the violation itself.

The court established ‘special factors’ in this context, covering: (1) the proximity of the family tie, (2) the particular circumstances of the relationship, (3) the extent to which family members witnessed the events, (4) their involvement in the attempts to obtain information and (5) the way in which the authorities responded to those enquiries (Çakıcı v. Turkey, par. 98).

Those factors have been developed in subsequent judgments. Recently, the ECtHR has tended to focus on the last aspect – the authorities’ reaction and attitude to the situation when it is brought to their attention (Khachukayevy v. Russia, par. 73; Khava Aziyeva v. Russia, par. 96).

During the first decade of disappearance cases before the ECtHR, the Court attached great importance to the involvement of the applicant in the attempts to obtain information and direct contact with authorities (see for example Nenkayev and others v. Russia, par. 168).  However, this has changed over time. In the applications against Russia, which currently constitute the vast majority of disappearances cases, very often whole families are applicants and the ECtHR has in most cases not differentiated between the applicants, even when some of them were more involved in the inquiries. Nevertheless there are still cases when all of the ‘special factors’ are brought up by the ECtHR.

The “special factors” established by the ECtHR are not gender-sensitive: requiring involvement in the attempts to obtain information might be difficult for a woman especially when – after the disappearance of her partner – she is the single parent of small children. This is further exacerbated in patriarchal societies, were male relatives traditionally represent women in their contact with authorities. Furthermore the illiteracy rate is higher among women in the countries from which the enforced disappearance cases to the ECtHR origin from and in minority communities (such as Kurds and Chechens) the language barrier is an additional obstacle, especially for women.

Due to these factors, a  substantial number of applicants before the ECtHR in cases against Turkey are men. These cases thus result in finding that men– often the brothers of disappeared—as opposed to the wives, are thevictims of violations of article 3 of the ECHR. When the wife is an applicant, she is usually accompanied by male members of the family, as has been the case in the majority of applications against Russia. There is a very limited number of cases submitted solely by women.

Therefore, although women are strongly affected by enforced disappearances of their male relatives/partners, they are less often authors of applications and if men are representing them in contact with authorities due to the ‘special factors’, they are less likely to be found victims of violation of art. 3 of the ECHR. A striking example of such a way of reasoning was a judgment, in which the ECtHR found no violation of article 3 of the ECHR because the wife of the disappeared failed to demonstrate that she was involved in the ongoing investigation pertaining to the disappearance of the husband (Nesibe Haran, 83).

In order to recognize the suffering of women relatives of disappeared persons, it would be beneficial to rethink the “special factors.” This could be done through resigning from the requirement of involvement in the attempts to obtain information. Alternatively the ECtHR could analyze how the applicant is affected by the disappearance and its consequences. This would make it possible for the applicants and their representative to show the particularly difficult situation for the female relatives of the disappeared person. The Court could also – just like other international bodies – completely abandon the “special factors.”

Second, the ECtHR could reconsider analyzing a violation of the rights of family members of a disappeared person under article 8 of the ECHR, guaranteeing right to respect for private and family life. This has been raised previously by a number of applicants, but it has rejected by the ECtHR. Article 8 of the ECHR could be used to recognize the vulnerable situation of female relatives of disappeared persons.

A third possibility would be to recognize at the enforcement stage the particular effect enforced disappearances of family members have on women. In the judgment Alakhanova and others v. Russia the ECtHR provided “guidance on certain measures that had to be taken by the Russian authorities to address the systemic failure to investigate disappearances in the Northern Caucasus.” Currently the Committee of Ministers expects Russia to address those measures in order to implement the disappearances judgments. Therefore, actions that countries should take in order to address specific needs of female relatives of disappeared persons face could be included in the ECtHR judgment.