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I'm extraordinarily pleased to be able to announce that today marks the start of the Opinio Juris symposium on my recently-edited volume, The Oxford Guide to Treaties (you can buy your copy here and there's even a discount for Opinio Juris readers!). The Oxford Guide provides a current and comprehensive guide to treaty law and practice. It does this in two parts.  First,...

Attentive readers will note our calendar had indicated that we were supposed to start a new symposium today on The Oxford Guide to Treaties.  It appears, however, that we are not immune from hurricane Sandy’s effects.  I've received several requests for postponement from participants given this week's events and I'm also told that much of New York City and other areas in...

[Ozan Varol is Assistant Professor of Law at Lewis & Clark Law School.] This post is part of the Harvard International Law Journal Volume 53(2) symposium. Other posts in this series can be found in the related posts below. I would like to thank David Landau, William Partlett, Brad Roth, and Joel Colón-Ríos for their kind words and insightful comments about my article, The Democratic Coup d’Etat, 53 Harv. Int’l L.J. 291 (2012). These scholars have been instrumental in enhancing our knowledge of constitutional transitions, and I very much appreciate the time they have taken to share their thoughts on my article. In this reply, I will first provide a brief summary of the article’s central claims and then respond individually to the comments. The article examines the typical characteristics and constitutional consequences of a largely neglected phenomenon that I call the “democratic coup d’état.” To date, the academic legal literature has analyzed all military coups under an anti-democratic framework. That conventional framework considers military coups to be entirely anti-democratic and assumes that all coups are perpetrated by power-hungry military officers seeking to depose existing regimes in order to rule their nations indefinitely. Under the prevailing view, therefore, all military coups constitute an affront to stability, legitimacy, and democracy. This article challenges that conventional view and its underlying assumptions. The article argues that, although all military coups have anti-democratic features, some coups are distinctly more democracy-promoting than others because they respond to popular opposition against authoritarian or totalitarian regimes, overthrow those regimes, and facilitate free and fair elections.

[Brad Roth is Professor of Political Science & Law at Wayne State University.] This post is part of the Harvard International Law Journal Volume 53(2) symposium. Other posts in this series can be found in the related posts below. Ozan Varol’s article, “The Democratic Coup d’Etat,” performs a crucial service in reorienting assessments of extra-constitutional changes in government so as to emphasize substance over form. He refutes the commonplace idea – most recently championed by Richard Albert – that coups are inherently and inevitably undemocratic and illegitimate, “Democratic Revolutions,” forthcoming Denver U. L. Rev. 89:2 (2012), at 20, and demonstrates that under some conditions, seizures of power by military elites may lay the groundwork for the establishment of liberal-democratic participatory processes. He does so without any naïveté about coup-makers’ agendas, fully acknowledging the distortions that even “democratic” putschists introduce into post-coup constitution-making processes in order to entrench prerogatives for the military and/or its favored constituencies. But as he notes, the coup leaders may actually fail at engineering such reserves of power – especially when they attempt it directly and overtly – because, as in the Portuguese case (and, one might hope, in the current Egyptian case), they set in motion democratic dynamics that they cannot contain. Varol’s account, however, replaces one exaltation of form over substance with another, reducing democracy itself to a narrow set of institutions and procedures that a coup may or may not work to promote. Such ascription is hardly unique to Varol – empirically-oriented political scientists tend to favor reducing democracy to elements that the tools of social science research can operationalize – but it neglects both the normatively loaded nature of the term and the extent to which competing conceptions of democratic ends animate political conflicts. See, e.g., Samuel Huntington, The Third Wave: Democratization in the Late Twentieth Century (Norman, Okla.: Univ. of Oklahoma Press, 1991), 5-13. Relatedly, Varol refers repeatedly to “the regime,” “the military,” and (most problematically) “the people” as unitary actors, whereas competing players frequently act in the name of these entities. (Instructive on the divisions within these groups is a book that Varol himself cites: Giuseppe Di Palma, To Craft Democracies: An Essay on Democratic Transitions (Berkeley: Univ. of Calif. Press, 1990), at 44-75.)

[David Landau is an Assistant Professor and Associate Dean for International Programs at Florida State University.] This post is part of the Harvard International Law Journal Volume 53(2) symposium. Other posts in this series can be found in the related posts below. Professor Varol’s article “The Democratic Coup d’Etat” is an important piece of work and a key contribution to the newest wave of literature on democratic transitions. In addition, the piece is nicely crafted and carefully researched -- both Professor Varol’s theoretical foundation and his case studies are persuasive. Professor Varol rightly points out that the role of the military during democratic transitions is not uniformly negative, but in fact is complex, and uses a simple assumption, which is that the military will generally try to increase or entrench its own power during transitions, to explain military behavior during transitions. Finally, he presents a series of case studies across both time and place which would otherwise appear to have little in common (Turkey in 1960, Portugal in 1974, and Egypt today) to show that his assumption about military behavior seems to hold broadly. My comments here are not a critique of his central thesis, which I basically share, but rather build off of two of the major points in the piece. A first key finding is that “coups” are hard events to classify – contrary to conventional usage, they do not always have antidemocratic intent or effects. As Professor Varol shows, sometimes militaries engage in “coups” precisely in order to put in place or restore a democratic order. This raises a broader point: our vocabulary about democratic transitions remains pretty crude. Revolutions, as Richard Albert has argued in recent work, are not uniform events, but often have little in common; the same seems true of events we call “coups.” At the same time, these are loaded terms: to call something a coup is universally to condemn it. The term does not get thrown around in a neutral way, but is used by opponents to classify an event to which they are hostile. Meanwhile, supporters avoid the label like the plague. This is particularly true in regions, like Latin America, with long and largely (but not entirely) negative experiences with military involvement in politics. A recent example occurred in Honduras, where both sides following the removal of President Zelaya in 2010, as well as international institutions like the OAS, were obsessed with a fight over how to classify the event, even though there was agreement about most of the relevant facts. Supporters of Zelaya argued that the event was a classic coup because the military had taken Zelaya away, flying him to Costa Rica, without any legal authority. The proponents of the removal, in contrast, argued that it was a congressionally ratified action against a dangerous, undemocratic president. The sheer amount of energy put into the label suggests that it is obscuring rather than illuminating important questions. And I am uncertain whether adding the label “democratic coup” to the vocabulary does much to clarify things. Opponents of Zelaya would characterize the removal as a “democratic coup,” if a coup at all, because it had the effect of ousting a president who they argue was on a path to dictatorship and replacing him with another civilian regime that did not have such aims. Supporters of course would argue that it was undemocratic because it removed a democratically-elected president who was governing according to the popular will.

[Joel Colón-Ríos, Senior Lecturer at Victoria University of Wellington, Faculty of Law, responds to Ozan Varol, The Democratic Coup d'Etat.] This post is part of the Harvard International Law Journal Volume 53(2) symposium. Other posts from this series can be found in the related posts below. Ozan Varol has written an important article. In arguing that some military coups may not only have democratic features but that they may also result in the adoption of democratic constitutions, Varol invites us to reconsider two of the most persisting questions in contemporary constitutional theory. First, what makes a legal revolution (understood in Kelsenian terms, that is, as the creation of a new constitution in violation of the rules of change of a previous constitutional order [see Hans Kelsen, General Theory of Law and State 116-118 (1949)]) democratic? Second, what makes a constitution democratic? Even though mostly engaging in a discussion about legal revolutions, about military coups that result in important structural changes (i.e. the transformation of authoritarian or totalitarian regimes into democratic ones), Varol seems to be examining only the latter of these questions. In fact, he suggests that he is not interested in looking at the “process by which the coup takes place” (the legal revolution), but at the democratic character of the “resulting change” (the constitution it produces) (p. 298). For the purposes of his article, Varol operates under Samuel Huntington’s definition of democracy: “a regime in which political leaders are selected through free and fair elections”. (p. 305). Varol does not engage in an open defence of this (low-intensity) conception of democracy, but uses it to determine whether a military coup can be categorized as democratic. Briefly put, if a military, with the support of the population, topples an authoritarian or totalitarian regime, facilitates free and fair elections within a short span of time, and transfers power to the democratically elected leaders, we have a democratic coup. (p. 300). In this short note, I would like to look at ‘democratic coups’ from a strong conception of democracy. In so doing, my aim is not to put forward a different conception of ‘democratic coups’, but to show that the questions posed above are interrelated in important ways; they are, put shortly, questions about the democratic legitimacy of a constitutional regime. If we look at these two questions together, we still might be able to talk about ‘democratic coups’, but in a much more restricted way that Varol’s approach suggests.

[Ozan Varol is Assistant Professor of Law at Lewis & Clark Law School.] This post is part of the Harvard International Law Journal Volume 53(2) symposium. Other posts in this series can be found in the related posts below. This article examines the typical characteristics and constitutional consequences of a largely neglected phenomenon that I call the “democratic coup d’état.” To date,...

[Jason Webb Yackee is an Assistant Professor of Law at the University of Wisconsin School of Law.] This post is part of the Virginia Journal of International Law/Opinio Juris Symposium, Volume 52, Issue 3. Other posts in this series can be found in the related posts below. It’s a pleasure to receive such thoughtful (and in Professor Wong’s case, humorous) feedback on my short VJIL Essay, and I greatly appreciate their engagement with the piece. I intended the Essay to be provocative but not absurd in its policy recommendations. My main suggestion (that states should think seriously about incorporating “corruption defense” in their investment treaties) is, I think, not inconsistent with the views of either commenter. Neither is my more basic suggestion, which is that even in the absence of corruption-specific BIT language, the fact of an investor’s involvement in public corruption related to its investment is likely to be of legal relevance to the investor’s ability to fully access the procedural and substantive protections of BITs. In other words, I think that we would all probably agree that there is already a viable “corruption defense,” and also that it might be useful to better specify the contours of the defense through explicitly corruption-related treaty language. Where we primarily differ is on the desirable contours of the defense. My scheme is self-consciously pro-state. It imposes serious consequences on the investor who engages in corruption. It is, as Professor Bjorklund accurately points out, supply-side in its focus, just as are the U.S. Foreign Corrupt Practices Act and its non-U.S. equivalents. This supply-side focus bothers Professors Wong and Bjorklund. It seems unfair to them to exclusively punish investors when corruption, by its nature, takes two to tango. It doesn’t bother me as much to sanction one partner and not the other. My premise — unstated in the essay, I admit — is that the supplier of corruption (here, the investor) is probably in some meaningful sense the “least cost avoider” of corruption. The tort law equivalent is a liability regime that places the full cost of compliance on the person who throws a banana peel on the sidewalk, rather than on the inobservant pedestrian who slips on it and falls. My sense (and it is just that at this point) is that it is comparatively difficult for developing countries already afflicted with corruption to prevent it, let alone to eradicate it. It is hard for states to monitor and control the actions of their agents, or to adjust incentive structures to discourage corruption. In contrast, corporations have an advantage in implementing effective training and compliance programs, in disciplining corporate actors who violate corruption laws, and in rewarding those who abide by corporate anti-corruption policy. Indeed, corporations are already spending heavily to implement effective corruption-prevention programs in order to avoid violations of or liability under the US and UK anti-bribery statutes, the penalties for violation of which can be immense. I would suggest, in effect, that the BIT regime should piggyback on these efforts by imposing on companies whose compliance systems fail the additional cost of the loss of their BIT privileges, rather than insisting that the high-cost avoider — the state — be expected to successfully duplicate the already expensive anti-corruption investments of multinational corporations.

[Jarrod Wong is an Associate Professor of Law at the University of the Pacific McGeorge School of Law.] This post is part of the Virginia Journal of International Law/Opinio Juris Symposium, Volume 52, Issue 3. Other posts in this series can be found in the related posts below. This intriguing Essay by Jason Yackee proposes that host states may well have a corruption defense against claims brought by investors under bilateral investment treaties (BITs) based on underlying investment contracts that, while facially unobjectionable, have been procured by bribing public officials. The argument extrapolates nicely from the denial of claims in an arbitration, decided in 1963 by Judge Lagergren, involving a politically well-connected Argentine seeking to enforce a “commission” contract guaranteeing some percentage of state contracts awarded by Argentina to the foreign investor, and in the World Duty Free ICSID case, in which the investor sought compensation for expropriation by Kenya of a concession acquired by bribing the then President of Kenya. While neither claim arose under BITs, both were denied on grounds of violating international public policy, which one --- or least these tribunals --- might conceivably extend to BIT claims. However, I wondered whether Yackee, in his determination to clear a path to the promised land, sufficiently acknowledges the perils on the road. For instance, neither tribunal above was expressly authorized to apply international law; indeed, ICSID tribunals --- which determine many BIT claims --- are to apply “applicable” international law only “in the absence of [the parties’ agreement on applicable law].” While noting this fact, Yackee was prepared to interpret the willingness of both tribunals to invoke (with how much deliberation?) international law as indicating an inherent authority to do so, rather than question the assumption. All the more troubling when the supposed “rule” of international law applied is of the nebulous variety conveniently labeled “international public policy.” (The wry among us might freshly inquire as to how this description differentiates other international law rules.) Shouldn’t we require such policy to crystallize into something akin to customary international law before permitting its application under these tenuous circumstances? Further, should the host state bear no responsibility when a state official accepts the bribe and is equally culpable? The World Duty Free tribunal neglected to weigh this fact in the context of international public policy, although it considered the issue under applicable national laws, only to hide behind Latin maxims ---- the in pari delicto and ex turpi causa principles --- in refusing to calibrate the equities more precisely. (Really? The President of Kenya walks off with $2 million, and the best the Tribunal’s got is a dead language?) Would the World Duty Free outcome not perversely incentivize host states to encourage bribery behind dummy anticorruption legislation since this gives license to flout BIT obligations?

[Andrea K. Bjorklund is currently the Visiting Professor (Guest of the L. Yves Fortier Chair in International Commercial Arbitration), McGill University Faculty of Law; she is also a Professor of Law at the University of California, Davis. Daniel Litwin is a B.C.L./LL.B. Candidate, McGill University Faculty of Law.] This post is part of the Virginia Journal of International Law/Opinio Juris Symposium, Volume 52, Issue 3. Other posts in this series can be found in the related posts below. Thank you very much to the Virginia Journal of International Law and Opinio Juris for hosting this series of discussions. We are very happy to participate. Jason Yackee’s Essay takes what might be described as an orthodox position on corruption. It rests on a long line of international commercial arbitration precedents whose focus has consistently been on the “supply” side of corruption and not on its “demand” side. (We are grateful to McGill student David Rapps for this nomenclature). This focus on the “bribe payer” (supply side) is reminiscent of the approach taken by the US Foreign Corrupt Practices Act and the OECD Convention on Combating Bribery of Foreign Public Officials in International Business Transactions. Professor Yackee adopts this same focus in suggesting that an investor’s corrupt or fraudulent behavior should prevent it from taking advantage of the protections afforded by any applicable investment treaty. Yet experience in the fight against drug trafficking suggests that seeking to limit supply without eradicating demand will never be successful. The UK apparently takes this view: its recently-adopted Bribery Act penalizes both bribing (supply side) and receiving bribes (demand side). The same even-handed approach to fighting corruption is present in the anti-bribery laws of Germany and of China. We too believe that if both an investor and a host state engage in corrupt behavior, sanctioning both is the best way to achieve the goal of eradicating corruption that has animated the international community (at varying levels of enthusiasm) for the past several decades. Like Professor Yackee, we agree with the position taken by the tribunal in World Duty Free v. Republic of Kenya that corruption is properly viewed as a violation of transnational public policy or truly international public policy. We cannot, however, agree with his refusal to adopt a balanced approach that would proportionally ascribe blame to all parties involved in a corrupt exchange. Penalizing only the party actively committing the wrong is reminiscent of the approach taken in the investor misconduct cases cited by Professor Yackee. But in both Inceysa Vallisoletana S.L. v. Republic of El Salvador and Plama Consortium Ltd. v. Republic of Bulgaria the investors were guilty of misrepresentation, a unilateral offense involving a single guilty party. Since corruption is normally bilateral, any parallels between cases involving misrepresentation and corruption should be properly nuanced.