Symposia

[Joost Pauwelyn is Professor of International Law at the Graduate Institute of International and Development Studies in Geneva and Manfred Elsig is Associate Professor of International Relations and Deputy Managing Director of the World Trade Institute of the University of Bern.] In principle, the Vienna Convention rules on treaty interpretation apply equally to all treaties and all international tribunals.  In practice, however, we...

[Ed Swaine is Professor of Law at George Washington University Law School] Larry Helfer is the perfect author for a chapter on the topic of treaty flexibility mechanisms: he writes from both theoretical and empirical perspectives, has a wide range of substantive expertise (including in human rights and trade, two fields that are central to this topic), and has a penetrating and remarkably clear style of analysis.  He deliberately provokes a number of questions in his chapter and post; because I’m conscious that blog readers themselves have numerous “exit” options, like closing this tab, I will try to be brief and touch on only a few. This topic includes a wide variety of behaviors – reservations, denunciations, suspension, differentiated treatment, amendment, withdrawal, and so forth – and one set of issues concerns nomenclature and taxonomy.  Larry has a state-of-the-art table in his chapter laying out and sorting the flexibility options.  Personally, I have never been happy with describing certain formal flexibility mechanisms (those involving temporary relief from treaty obligations) as “escape” clauses, supposedly as distinct from “exit” clauses that entail permanent cessation of status as a treaty party.  Prisoners do not “escape” from Alcatraz with a view to returning; a word like “avoidance” better captures the idea in this context.  More generally, the categorization of flexibility mechanisms has certain routine difficulties – the basic problem of trying simultaneously to sort on when a state seeks flexibility and what its legal consequences are; conflicting tendencies both to include and exclude certain noncompliance acts as informal flexibility mechanisms; and an inherently unsatisfying distinction between so-called unilateral mechanisms (not always exploited in a completely autonomous fashion) and collective mechanisms (frequently, one suspects, prone to exploitation or capture by particular states).  Typology is rarely gripping, and I don’t want to mislead anyone into thinking that Larry’s chapter is focused on these questions or has unique difficulties with them.  However, they matter because we are concerned with the relationship among these mechanisms, principally in order to describe the choices states confront and make; he highlights this in his post as well.  In addition, beyond worrying whether these descriptions have formal integrity, we should also try to explore whether these are in fact the way state representatives think about the alternatives.  It might be the case, for example, that they focus predominately on collective rather than unilateral forms of flexibility, or informal rather than formal avenues, either of which might marginalize other kinds of inquiries. A second set of issues concerns the proper perspective on these questions. 

[Larry Helfer is the Harry R. Chadwick, Sr. Professor of Law Professor of Law at Duke University School of Law] I am delighted to participate in this Opinio Juris book symposium on Jeff Dunoff and Mark Pollack’s excellent edited volume. My chapter on “Flexibility in International Agreements” was improved by their many helpful comments and suggestions. This brief post summarizes a few of the chapter’s major themes.  Citations to all references can be found in the online and print versions of the chapter. Government officials, international lawyers, and diplomats have long been interested in shaping the form and content of treaties to manage the risks of international cooperation. These actors have responded to these risks with an diverse array of flexibility mechanisms, including unilateral reservation and declaration clauses; entry-into-force requirements; limitations on territorial application; duration provisions; amendment and revision procedures; and rules governing suspension, withdrawal, and termination. In addition to these formal mechanisms, a range of informal practices can enhance the flexibility of treaties.  Such practices include ad hoc supplementary accords, understandings, traditions, conventions, gentleman’s agreements, de facto modification of treaty obligations through conduct, auto-interpretation of ambiguous terms, and nonparticipation in treaty activities. A principal challenge facing treaty negotiators is to select an appropriately constrained suite of flexibility mechanisms that facilitate agreement among states ex ante while deterring opportunistic uses of those mechanisms ex post after the treaty enters into force. Flexibility tools that are too easy to invoke will encourage self-serving behavior and lead to a breakdown in cooperation. Tools that are too onerous will discourage such behavior, but may prevent the parties from reaching agreement in the first instance, or, if agreement is reached, may lead to widespread violations if the costs of compliance increase unexpectedly. Over the last decade, international law and international relations scholars have devoted growing attention to treaty flexibility tools.

[Jeffrey L. Dunoff is the Laura H. Carnell Professor of Law at Temple University Beasley School of Law and Mark A. Pollack is professor of Political Science and Jean Monnet Chair ad personam at Temple University] One of the most difficult choices in our book, and one of the most contentious discussions at two book workshops, was about how to approach the question of “theory.”  Our approach was to identify four research traditions in IR that had been invoked productively by IL/IR scholars – namely, realism, institutionalism, liberalism, and constructivism – and ask four leading scholars to review and identify how each tradition had been adapted and developed to explore the making, interpretation and implementation of international law. Doing so, however, posed two problems.  First, it privileged IR theory over international legal theories.  We agreed with this critique, but we felt that the centrality of IR theories in the IL/IR literature in fact reflected our view of the literature more broadly, which is that what was labeled IL/IR scholarship was not primarily interdisciplinary in nature, but represented the application of IR theory and methods to international law as a subject.  We see this imbalance between IR and legal theory as a lamentable feature of contemporary IL/IR scholarship – a point to which we will return in a subsequent post – but one that accurately reflects the current state of the field. Second, a number of our participants were concerned that, in selecting these four theories and asking our authors for canonical statements of each, we were reifying distinct, non-overlapping theories, and thus aggravating a decades-long “isms war.”  Far better, some contributors suggested, to do away with the isms altogether, in favor of a “non-paradigmatic approach.”  Despite such concerns, our own view was that realism, institutionalism, liberalism and constructivism, as distinct theoretical research programs, have been the intellectual nurseries within which scholars have developed and refined theories and testable hypotheses about factors such as power and distribution (realism), information and institutions (institutionalism), domestic and transnational society (liberalism) and norms and ideas (constructivism).  In this symposium, for example, Richard Steinberg makes a strong case for the distinctive contributions of realist theories focusing on states, state interest, and state power.

[Richard H. Steinberg is Professor of Law at the University of California. Los Angeles; Visiting Professor of International, Comparative & Area Studies at Stanford University; and Director of the Sanela Diana Jenkins Human Rights Project.] I am grateful for Ian Hurd’s thoughtful comment on my book chapter partly because it supports my claim that that everyone borrows from the realist tradition.  Moreover, Hurd’s comment inadvertently recapitulates a narrow structural realist view of international law (recalling the associated dysfunctional debate of the 1980s) that I intended my chapter to supersede, offering me the opportunity here to underscore the approach of my chapter, which sees the utility of employing a longer-lived realist tradition for understanding international law . . . First, Hurd expresses apparent disappointment that most of my claims are completely acceptable to him and constitute orthodoxy among international relations scholars.  My claims are “so encompassing that there is little to disagree with.”  For example, Hurd agrees with me that analysts of international politics should take into account states, state power, and state interests, and that states strive to use their power to create a legal order that favors their interests.  Apparently, my clear restatement of concepts rooted in the realist tradition, going back two and a half millennia, is not disagreeable—except to the extent that Hurd thinks my restatement is not realism.  “The problem here,” Hurd writes, “is that few scholars of any stripe would deny these premises or empirical patterns” and so Hurd is “doubtful” that “this is ‘realism.’”  But the fact that these premises and patterns are broadly accepted does not negate the fact that they are rooted in the realist tradition—the mode and level of analysis common to people like Thucydides, Machiavelli, and Morgenthau.  These premises and patterns are certainly not the preoccupation of the liberal tradition, with its focus on individuals and nonstate actors as drivers of state interests and action, nor of constructivism, with its focus on the social roots of epistemologies, norms, and interests. Hurd’s declaration that these realist premises and patterns are broadly accepted is gratifying to those who have identified themselves with the realist tradition in their understanding of international law—but who in the last thirty years have been intellectually flogged for doing so by those who have attacked a straw-man version of realism described in my chapter.  For Hurd, the shortcoming with my chapter seems to be that a correct distillation of the realist tradition offers little to disagree with.  Sorry to disappoint.  As stated in the last line of my chapter:  Perhaps everybody is still a realist. So, what does Hurd disagree with? 

[Ian Hurd is an Associate Professor in Political Science at Northwestern University] Steinberg opens his chapter with the line that “realism is the theory that international lawyers love to hate.” But he goes on to present a version of realism that is so encompassing that there is little to disagree with. Realism, he says is about “the state, state power, and state interests” (147). He emphasizes that state power plays a role in making international law and in shaping states’ responses to international law. Among other things: “powerful states (or their rulers) conclude treaties to advance state interests…. Hence, powerful states could sometimes impose international law on weaker states, and sometimes states could agree among themselves on issues of common interest” (147). He also notes that powerful states use law to shape the capacities of others, which implies that they gain some advantage from this (157). International law is therefore a product of state power, and a contributor to it. IR/IL scholarship must focus on the complex dynamics among power, interests, and law. As a description of some key elements of international politics this has much to recommend it. What is left of international politics if one leaves out states, state power, or state interests? There are many non-state forces in international relations but many are interesting for how they connect with or contradict state power. Who would deny that powerful states often evade their legal obligations, or that they strive to use their power to create a legal order that favors their interests? State agency is not absolute and it is shaped by international legal forms among other things, but one cannot deny that it exists. But therein lies the problem -- it takes on so much that it is hard to see what a non-realist approach to IR/IL could be. Steinberg sets out to make essentially two points: first, that scholars of international law should pay more attention to power, especially state power, and its relation to international law; and second, that to do is called ‘realism.’

[Richard H. Steinberg is Professor of Law at the University of California. Los Angeles; Visiting Professor of International, Comparative & Area Studies at Stanford University; and Director of the Sanela Diana Jenkins Human Rights Project.] “Realism” is the theory international lawyers love to hate. Dozens of commentators have attacked realism or written its epitaph. Some commentators have even asked: is anybody still a realist? Many international law (IL) scholars challenge “realism” because most think it means that international law is epiphenomenal and so devoid of meaning – which could make their jobs irrelevant, wasteful, and quixotic.  But they also seem to love realism – or a version of it – because the misunderstood and mischaracterized structural realist straw-man claim that “international law does not matter” serves for them as the perfect foil for arguments that international law (IL) is important.  It is the null hypothesis that enables international lawyers to show that their argument and life’s work does have meaning.  There’s another reason IL scholars may dislike realism: it is seen as an amoral theory, at best.  And it offers a basis for attacking the feasibility of much of the normative work that espouses changing the status quo in international law.  In IL, a field that remains driven largely by normative agendas, realists constantly raise annoying facts and analyses that spoil the party.  Finally, realists don’t see nearly as much customary law in the world as most international lawyers who aspire to build a more legalized world order.  What’s not to hate? This book chapter argues that realism remains very much alive, not only because international lawyers have kept it alive by attacking a straw-man misinterpretation of the structural realist variant, but also because it is a useful tool for positive analysis of international law: even its structural realist variant (correctly understood) has heuristic power, and realist concepts may be hybridized with insights of other approaches – for example, cooperation theory in economics, liberalism, social construction theory, or empiricism – to constitute a valuable research program in international law, with substantial explanatory and predictive power. Finally, realism is critical for the advancement of normative agendas in international law.  Realism’s epitaph is premature. Realism in international law remains alive and vibrant.

[Jeffrey L. Dunoff is the Laura H. Carnell Professor of Law at Temple University Beasley School of Law and Mark A. Pollack is professor of Political Science and Jean Monnet Chair ad personam at Temple University] We are very grateful to our friends at OJ for hosting this symposium, which we trust will continue the work begun in our recent edited volume, namely providing a critical assessment of the innovations and contributions, as well as the lacunae, biases and blind spots, of international law and international relations (IL/IR) scholarship.  In this post, we kick off the discussion by providing a brief introduction to international law/international relations literature; discussing the motivation behind, and aims of, Interdisciplinary Perspectives on International Law and International Relations: The State of the Art; and identifying one significant conceptual shortcoming found in much IL/IR scholarship.

The Fall and Rise of IL/IR

The disciplines of international law (IL) and international relations (IR) both seek, albeit in different ways, to understand the causes and consequences of international cooperation, in general, and international legalization, in particular.  Perhaps not surprisingly, then, for several decades prior to World War II, practitioners from both fields pursued common research interests. However, the cataclysm of World War II brought this era of disciplinary convergence to a crashing halt.  Influential political scientists, such as Morgenthau, Kennan and Carr, argued that state actions were driven by national interests, and that, as Kennan wrote, international law was “too abstract, too inflexible, too hard to adjust to the demands of the unpredictable and the unexpected” that mark international affairs. A dominant school of “realism” argued that “law,” as understood in the domestic sense, could not serve as a meaningful constraint on states’ pursuit of the national interest in an anarchic international system, and for many years thereafter IR scholars paid little attention to international law or international legal scholarship.  One consequence was a decades-long mutual estrangement between the two disciplines. This period of mutual neglect began to ebb only with the end of the Cold War, and the increased salience of international norms and institutions. 

This week, we are hosting a symposium on Interdisciplinary Perspectives on International Law and International Relations: The State of the Art, edited by Jeff Dunoff and Mark Pollack. Jeff and Mark will introduce the book later today, but here is the abstract: Interdisciplinary Perspectives on International Law and International Relations: The State of the Art brings together the most influential contemporary writers in the...

[Sondre Torp Helmersen teaches at the University of Oslo and is an LLM candidate at the University of Cambridge.] Stephanie Carvin recently contributed to the Syria Insta-Symposium with a post titled “A Legal Debate Devoid of Consequences (or Bringing Practical Judgment Back In)”. Her call for a practical perspective is timely. The decision of whether or not to attack must be necessarily be a political decision, on which political scientists such as herself may offer sound advice. However, she apparently does not take full account of the fact that international law is (at least supposed to be) law. She “crudely paraphrases” her position as follows: “if 15 men sitting around a table in New York say it is okay to strike, then somehow it is fine. If 15 men do not, then it’s not okay. This seems to be an incredibly poor way to decide how to respond to the attack.” This line of reasoning is applicable to any legal regulation, domestic or international. Try replacing “attack” with any other matter regulated by domestic or international law,

We have invited several academic luminaries to post here at Opinio Juris over the next few days about the ongoing situation in Syria. We also are going to follow in our own footsteps from our Kiobel symposium, by inviting young academics and practitioners to submit guests posts for possible publication. We can’t guarantee we will publish every post submitted, but we...

Good thing nothing much happened while I was away on summer vacation… So as I wrote here last spring, there’s no clear basis under international law for a U.S. use of force in Syria – no UN Security Council resolution, and no apparent claim at this stage that the United States is acting in self-defense. The only theory of legality in play seems to be the one put forward by the British government, right before Parliament voted to reject the use of force in Syria. Namely, that force may be justified as part of an emergent customary norm permitting humanitarian intervention (see, e.g., NATO intervention in Kosovo). The statement from the UK Prime Minister’s Office says a state may take “exceptional measures in order to alleviate the scale of the overwhelming humanitarian catastrophe in Syria by deterring and disrupting the further use of chemical weapons by the Syrian regime. Such a legal basis is available, under the doctrine of humanitarian intervention, provided” a set of conditions hold. Those conditions: (1) “convincing evidence, generally accepted by the international community as a whole, of extreme humanitarian distress on a large scale, requiring immediate and urgent relief;” (2) it is “objectively clear that there is no practicable alternative to the use of force if lives are to be saved;” (3) the force used is “necessary and proportionate to the aim of relief of humanitarian need…” But it just can’t support U.S. action here. Here’s why.