Coexistence, Cooperation and Solidarity

Volume I
Coexistence, Cooperation
and Solidarity

Liber Amicorum
Rüdiger Wolfrum

Volume I

Edited by

Holger P. Hestermeyer
Doris König
Nele Matz-Lück
Volker Röben
Anja Seibert-Fohr
Peter-Tobias Stoll
Silja Vöneky

LEIDEN • BOSTON
2012
This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Coexistence, cooperation and solidarity : liber amicorum Rüdiger Wolfrum / edited by Holger
Hestermeyer ... [et al.].
p. cm.
ISBN 978-90-04-18893-8 (set : hardback : alk. paper) -- ISBN 978-90-04-21468-2 (v. 1 : alk.
paper) -- ISBN 978-90-04-21469-9 (v. 2 : alk. paper) 1. International law. I. Hestermeyer,
Holger. II. Wolfrum, Rüdiger.
KZ3410.C635 2011
341--dc23
2011034843

ISBN 978 90 04 18893 8 (hardback, set)

ISBN 978 90 04 21468 2 (hardback, volume I)
ISBN 978 90 04 21469 9 (hardback, volume II)
ISBN 978 90 04 21482 8 (e-book)

Copyright 2012 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands.

Koninklijke Brill NV incorporates the imprints Brill, Global Oriental, Hotei Publishing,
IDC Publishers, Martinus Nijhoff Publishers and VSP.

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Fees are subject to change.
 CONTENTS

Volume I

List of Contributors and Editors............................................................... xv

A Tribute to Rüdiger Wolfrum............................................................... xxv

Part I
Coexistence, Cooperation and Solidarity
in International Law

The International Obligation to Cooperate–An Empty

Shell or a Hard Law Principle of International Law?–
A Critical Look at a Much Debated Paradigm of Modern
International Law..................................................................................... 3
Jost Delbrück
State Debt Crisis, Private Creditors, and
the IMF Articles of Agreement............................................................17
Werner F. Ebke
Reality or Aspiration?–Solidarity in International
Environmental and World Trade Law.................................................45
Holger P. Hestermeyer
Der lange Weg zur doppelten Mehrheit im Rat der
Europäischen Union nach dem Vertrag von Lissabon: Vom
Völkerrecht zum genuinen Europäischen Verfassungsrecht
vor dem Hintergrund nationaler Erfahrungen..................................65
Jürgen Jekewitz
The Post-Globalization Travails of Legal Education..............................99
Rahmatullah Khan
Solidarity: Evidence of an Emerging International
Legal Principle......................................................................................103
Abdul G. Koroma
vi contents

The Solidarity Principle, Francisco de Vitoria and the

Protection of Indigenous Peoples......................................................131
Vicente Marotta Rangel
Solidarität, Souveränität und Völkerrecht: Grundzüge
einer internationalen Solidargemeinschaft zur Hilfe bei
Naturkatastrophen...............................................................................141
Nele Matz-Lück
From Coexistence to Détente and Cooperation. Some
Lessons from the Cold War for a Contemporary Era of
Clashing Cultures or Colliding Civilisations....................................167
Edward McWhinney
Customary International Law in Action: From
the International Minimum Standard to Fair and
Equitable Treatment............................................................................181
Francisco Orrego Vicuña
The Roles of Proportionality in Maritime Delimitation:
State of Jurisprudence..........................................................................199
Jin-Hyun Paik
Some Reflections on Factors Exerting Influence on
Maritime Boundary Delimitation......................................................223
Stanislaw Pawlak
Land and Maritime Tripoints in International
Jurisprudence........................................................................................245
Alain Pellet
Reflections on the Cogency of Fragmentation: Statutes of
Limitation and “Continuing Violations” in Investment and
Human Rights Law..............................................................................265
W. Michael Reisman & Mahnoush H. Arsanjani
About the Sense and Direction of Multilateralism in
International Trade Law......................................................................281
Hélène Ruiz Fabri
Where Should Nefertiti Go? Reflections on International
Cultural Law.........................................................................................303
Peter-Tobias Stoll
 contents vii

Part II
Human Rights in the Global Society

Environmental Migration and International Law................................319

Ulrich Beyerlin
Institution Building in the UN-Human Rights-System–
The Committee on the Elimination of Racial
Discrimination (CERD)......................................................................333
Brun-Otto Bryde
Labour Relations before the Strasbourg Court.....................................343
Lucius Caflisch
The Protection of Property in International Law:
The Missing Pieces...............................................................................367
Thomas Cottier, Katja Gehne & Maria Schultheiss
Wirtschaftliche, soziale und kulturelle Rechte:
Menschen- oder auch Grundrechte?.................................................397
Constance Grewe
The Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on
Economic, Social and Cultural Rights–Towards a More
Effective Implementation of Social Rights?......................................417
Rainer Grote
Human Dignity–Basis of Human Rights...............................................437
Eckart Klein
International Human Rights Law and Transnational
Corporations: Responsibilities and Cooperation............................453
Robert McCorquodale
The Protection of Indigenous Peoples in International
Law Revisited–From Non-Discrimination to
Self-Determination..............................................................................477
Stefan Oeter
Sleeping Beauty or Let Sleeping Dogs Lie? The Right of
Everyone to Enjoy the Benefits of Scientific Progress and
its Applications (REBSPA)..................................................................503
Eibe Riedel
viii contents

The International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights:

Moving from Coexistence to Cooperation and Solidarity.............521
Anja Seibert-Fohr
The Legal Status of Normative Pronouncements of
Human Rights Treaty Bodies..............................................................553
Dinah Shelton
Human Rights Before the International Court of Justice:
Community Interest Coming to Life?...............................................577
Bruno Simma
Rassismusbekämpfung im Europäischen Rechtsraum:
Neue Impulse durch den Europäischen
Gerichtshof für Menschenrechte.......................................................605
Daniel Thürer & Nina Burri
The Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination
and International Humanitarian Law...............................................633
David Weissbrodt
Part III
Global Commons

The Principle of Reasonableness in the Law of the Sea.......................657

David Anderson
Polar Science in the North and South: Tailoring Lessons
from Antarctica to Improve Reliability of Legal Access for
Marine Scientific Research (MSR) to the Arctic Ocean..................671
Betsy Baker
Strengthening Compliance with Climate Change
Commitments.......................................................................................693
Edith Brown Weiss
The Global Climate Regime: Wither Common Concern?..................721
Jutta Brunnée
Enforcement Jurisdiction under the United Nations
Convention on the Law of the Sea. An Overview...........................737
Hugo Caminos
Compliance Mechanisms in the International Law
of the Sea: From the Individual to the Collective............................777
Robin Churchill
 contentsix

The Dual Function of Base Points..........................................................807

Jean-Pierre Cot
Divided We Stand: The Legal Issues Concerning the
International Whaling Commission..................................................829
Malgosia Fitzmaurice
On the Classification of Obligations in
International Law.................................................................................853
Philippe Gautier
Conceptualizing Global Natural Resources:
Global Public Goods Theory and International
Legal Concepts.....................................................................................881
Ellen Hey
The Altiplano Silala (Siloli): A Watercourse
under Scrutiny......................................................................................901
María Teresa Infante Caffi
Protection and Preservation of the Marine Environment
in the Area under UNCLOS...............................................................919
James L. Kateka
Cable and Pipeline Surveys at Sea..........................................................933
Rainer Lagoni
The Contribution of Trinidad and Tobago
to the Development of the Regime
of the Continental Shelf......................................................................957
Anthony A. Lucky
The Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf
and Coastal States’ Submissions.........................................................971
L. D. M. Nelson
Textual Interpretation of Article 121 in the
UN Convention on the Law of the Sea.............................................991
Myron H. Nordquist
Water in the Contemporary World......................................................1037
Helmut Türk
A Question of Sovereignty? Submissions to the
Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf
and Marine Protected Areas.............................................................1065
Ingo Winkelmann
x contents

Volume II

Part IV

Peace, Security and State-Building

Individual Remedies for Victims of Armed Conflicts

in the Context of Mass Claims Settlements....................................1085
Eyal Benvenisti
Die Einbindung der Bevölkerung in
Verfassungsänderungsprozessen – ein Überblick.........................1107
Markus Böckenförde
Piracy Jure Gentium...............................................................................1125
Yoram Dinstein
Policing the Oceans–New Issues..........................................................1147
Jochen Abr. Frowein
Maritime Security (Case of Piracy)......................................................1157
Vladimir Golitsyn
The Impact of Law on Contemporary Military
Operations–Sacrificing Security Interests on the Altar
of Political Correctness?....................................................................1177
Wolff Heintschel von Heinegg
Frieden und Friedensvoraussetzungen – Ihre
Gewährleistung durch Staat und Staatengemeinschaft.................1203
Paul Kirchhof
Is There a Role for Law in a World Ruled by Power?.........................1235
Tommy Koh
The Return of Piracy: Problems, Parallels, Paradoxes.......................1239
Hanspeter Neuhold
The Crime of Aggression before the International
Criminal Court...................................................................................1259
Kirsten Schmalenbach
Risk and Security in International Law...............................................1283
Christian Tomuschat
 contentsxi

Das Ende der Unschuld? Völkerrechtliche Aspekte des

Einsatzes militärischer Gewalt durch Truppen der
Bundeswehr am Beispiel Afghanistans...........................................1309
Silja Vöneky
Hybrid Peacekeeping: Is UNAMID a New Model for
Cooperation between the United Nations and Regional
Organizations?....................................................................................1327
Christian Walter
International Law and the War on Terrorism.....................................1341
Georg Witschel

Part V
Global Governance and United Nations

Konstitutionalisierung – Was heißt das eigentlich?...........................1369

Rudolf Bernhardt
Thoughts on International Democracy...............................................1377
Armin von Bogdandy
Private Normunternehmer im Völkerrecht: Gedanken
zur Fortentwicklung des Völkerrechts durch nicht-staatliche
Institutionen.......................................................................................1399
Michael Bothe
The Governance of the Global Ocean Observing
System (GOOS)..................................................................................1413
Peter Ehlers
The UN-Oligarchs and Their Privileges..............................................1439
Tono Eitel
Headquarters Agreements and the Law of
International Organizations.............................................................1463
Thomas A. Mensah
The Importance of Generality in Law-Making International
Agreements.........................................................................................1497
Fred L. Morrison
Legitimacy of UN Member States........................................................1507
Volker Röben
xii contents

Too “Smart” for Legal Protection? UN Security Council’s Targeted

Sanctions and a Pladoyer for Another UN Tribunal.....................1527
Torsten Stein
Self-Determination of Peoples–A Chronic Problem of
Humankind.........................................................................................1543
Budislav Vukas
The United Nations Collective Security System in the
21st Century: Increased Decentralization through
Regionalization and Reliance on Self-Defence..............................1553
Erika de Wet
Japan’s Contribution to International Peace and its
Political and Legal Background........................................................1569
Shunji Yanai
Part VI

Dispute Settlement and Conflict-Resolution

Jurisprudence of the International Tribunal for the Law

of the Sea in Prompt Release Proceedings......................................1591
Joseph Akl
A “Footnote as a Principle”. Mutual Supportiveness and
its Relevance in an Era of Fragmentation.......................................1615
Laurence Boisson de Chazournes & Makane Moïse Mbengue
Affected Individuals in Proceedings before the ICJ,
the ITLOS and the ECHR.................................................................1639
Burkhard Hess & Astrid Wiik
Judges ad hoc in the International Tribunal for
the Law of the Sea..............................................................................1661
José Luis Jesus
Between Contemporaneous and Evolutive Interpretation:
The Use of “Subsequent Practice” in the Judgment
of the International Court of Justice Concerning the
Case of Costa Rica v. Nicaragua (2009)..........................................1675
Georg Nolte
Use and Abuse of Interim Protection before International
Courts and Tribunals.........................................................................1685
Karin Oellers-Frahm
 contentsxiii

The International Proliferation of Criminal Jurisdictions

Revisited: Uniting or Fragmenting International Law?................1705
Fausto Pocar
ITLOS: The Conception of the Judicial Function..............................1725
P. Chandrasekhara Rao
Provisional Measures in the International Tribunal for
the Law of the Sea..............................................................................1763
Peter Tomka & Gleider I. Hernández
Cross-Fertilization between Different International
Courts and Tribunals: The Mangouras Case..................................1787
Tullio Treves
Die Errichtung des Internationalen Seegerichtshofes
und die Rolle Deutschlands..............................................................1797
Gerd Westdickenberg
Der „Backlog“ (Rückstand in der Fallbehandlung) des
Europäischen Gerichtshofs für Menschenrechte...........................1825
Luzius Wildhaber
Advisory Jurisdiction: Lessons from Recent Practice.......................1833
Michael Wood
Part VII
National Law in Context

“Berlin bleibt Berlin”..............................................................................1853

Anthony Aust
Die private Haftung aus Seedelikten zwischen Völkerrecht
und Internationalem Privatrecht.....................................................1869
Jürgen Basedow
Die Staat-Kirche-Modelle von Trennung, Gleichheit
und Nähe.............................................................................................1897
Winfried Brugger
Zu den Implikationen der EU-Mitgliedschaft für die Stellung und
Anwendung des Völkerrechts im innerstaatlichen Bereich.........1909
Astrid Epiney
Zur Verfassungsmässigkeit unilateraler
Pirateriebekämpfung durch die Deutsche Marine........................1935
Ulrich Fastenrath
xiv contents

Macht und Ohnmacht –

Das Bundesverfassungsgericht und die Politik..............................1959
Evelyn Haas
Die neue Tierversuchsrichtlinie 2010/63/EU der
Europäischen Union im Lichte der Binnenmarktkompetenz......1981
Wolfgang Löwer
Norway in the Dynamics of European Legal Integration.................2019
Peter-Christian Müller-Graff
Das Bundesverfassungsgericht im Kräftefeld zwischen
Karlsruhe, Luxemburg und Straßburg............................................2041
Hans-Jürgen Papier
German Jurisdiction Clauses in Anti-cartel Cases
before English Courts–and some Remarks Relating
to the Interpretation of Foreign Laws..............................................2057
Thomas Pfeiffer
Das Steuerrecht der Hohen See............................................................2071
Ekkehart Reimer
Reform der steuerstrafrechtlichen Selbstanzeige im
Rechtsstaat oder: Vom Beruf unserer
Zeit zur Gesetzgebung.......................................................................2099
Erich Samson
Ansätze zur Internationalisierung des
verwaltungsgerichtlichen Rechtsschutzes.......................................2119
Eberhard Schmidt-Aßmann
Stauffenberg –
Zur Rechtfertigung von Eidbruch und Tyrannenmord................2145
Wolfgang Graf Vitzthum
The Idea of the Holy: Nomos as Holiness............................................2165
Joseph H. H. Weiler
List of Publications of Rüdiger Wolfrum............................................2175
 List of Contributors and Editors

Joseph Akl, Judge of the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea
David Anderson, Former Judge of the International Tribunal for the
Law of the Sea (1996–2005)
Mahnoush H. Arsanjani, Director, Codification Division, Office of
Legal Affairs, United Nations (ret.); Secretary of the International Law
Commission (ret.); associate member of the Institut de Droit
international
Anthony Aust, Consultant, Edwards Angell Palmer & Dodge UK LLP;
Deputy Legal Adviser, British Diplomatic Service (ret.)
Betsy Baker, Associate Professor, Vermont Law School, U.S.A.
Jürgen Basedow, Professor, University of Hamburg; Director of the
Max Planck Institute for Comparative and International Private Law,
Hamburg
Eyal Benvenisti, Anny and Paul Yanowicz Professor of Human Rights,
Tel Aviv University, Israel; Director of the Cegla Center for Interdis­
ciplinary Research of the Law
Rudolf Bernhardt, Former President and Vice-President of the
European Court of Human Rights, Strasbourg; former Director of the
Max Planck Institute for Comparative Public Law and International
Law, Heidelberg; member of the Institut de Droit international
Ulrich Beyerlin, Professor emeritus of Public Law and International
Law at the Max Planck Institute for Comparative Public Law and
International Law, Heidelberg
Markus Böckenförde, Leader of the Advisory Team to the Policy
Planning Staff of the Federal Ministry for Economic Cooperation and
Development; Senior Researcher at the German Development Institute,
Bonn
Armin von Bogdandy, Director of the Max Planck Institute for
Compar­ative Public Law and International Law, Heidelberg; Professor,
University of Frankfurt/Main; President of the OECD Nuclear Energy
Tribunal
xvi list of contributors and editors

Laurence Boisson de Chazournes, Professor at the Faculty of Law,

University of Geneva, Switzerland
Michael Bothe, Professor emeritus of Public Law and International Law
at the Universities of Heidelberg, Hannover and Frankfurt (1977–2003);
Chair, Commission for International Humanitarian Law, German Red
Cross; President, International Humanitarian Fact-Finding Commission
Edith Brown Weiss, Francis Cabell Brown Professor of International
Law, Georgetown University Law School, U.S.A.
Winfried Brugger†, Professor, University of Heidelberg; Director of
the Institute for Constitutional Law and Philosophy of Law, University
of Heidelberg
Jutta Brunnée, Professor and Metcalf Chair of Environmental Law,
University of Toronto, Canada
Brun-Otto Bryde, Former Justice of the (German) Federal Constitu­
tional Court, 1st Senate, Karlsruhe (2001–2011); Professor emeritus of
Public Law and Political Science, University of Gießen; former mem-
ber of the UN Committee on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial
Discrimination (2000–2001)
Nina Burri, lic. iur., PhD Student and Research Assistant at the Institute
for Public International and Comparative Constitutional Law, Univer­
sity of Zurich, Switzerland
Lucius Caflisch, Professor emeritus, the Graduate Institute of Interna­
tional and Development Studies, Geneva; former Judge of the European
Court of Human Rights, Strasbourg; member of the International Law
Commission of the United Nations; member of the Institut de Droit
international
Hugo Caminos, Judge of the International Tribunal for the Law of the
Sea; member of the Institut de Droit international
Robin Churchill, Professor of International Law, University of Dundee,
United Kingdom
Jean-Pierre Cot, Judge of the International Tribunal for the Law of the
Sea; Professor emeritus, University of Paris I Panthéon-Sorbonne, France
Thomas Cottier, Professor of European and International Economic
Law and Managing Director, World Trade Institute, University of Bern,
Switzerland
 list of contributors and editors xvii

Jost Delbrück, Professor emeritus of International Law and German

Constitutional Law and former Director of the Walther Schücking
Institute for International Law, University of Kiel
Yoram Dinstein, Professor emeritus of International Law and former
President, Rector and Dean of Law, Tel Aviv University, Israel; member
of the Institut de Droit international
Werner F. Ebke, Professor of German, European and International
Corporate Law, Director of the Institute of German and European
Corporate and Business Law, University of Heidelberg
Peter Ehlers, Honorary Professor, University of Hamburg; President of
the Federal Maritime and Hydrographic Agency, Germany (ret.);
Director of the International Max Planck Research School for Maritime
Affairs, Hamburg; German delegate to IOC and member of the Execu­
tive Council (1997–2008); Chairman of EuroGOOS
Tono Eitel, Former Ambassador of the Federal Republic of Germany
to the United Nations; former President of the Security Council;
Honorary Professor, University of Bochum
Astrid Epiney, Professor, University of Fribourg; Director of the Insti­
tute for European Law at the University of Fribourg, Switzerland
Ulrich Fastenrath, Professor of Public Law, European Union Law and
Public International Law, Technical University of Dresden; Director of
the School of International Studies of the Technical University of
Dresden; member of the Advisory Board on International Law of the
German Federal Foreign Office
Malgosia Fitzmaurice, Professor of Public International Law, Queen
Mary University of London, United Kingdom
Jochen Abr. Frowein, Professor emeritus of International Law, Univer­
sity of Heidelberg; Director emeritus of the Max Planck Institute for
Comparative Public Law and International Law, Heidelberg; former
Vice-President of the Max Planck Society; former Vice-President of the
European Commission of Human Rights; member of the Institut de
Droit international
Philippe Gautier, Registrar, International Tribunal for the Law of
the Sea; Professor, Catholic University of Louvain (Louvain-la-Neuve),
Belgium
xviii list of contributors and editors

Katja Gehne, PhD, BASF Ludwigshafen; former research fellow NCCR,

WTI, University of Bern, Switzerland
Vladimir Golitsyn, Judge of the International Tribunal for the Law of
the Sea; Professor of International Law at the Moscow State University
of International Relations, Russia
Constance Grewe, Professor, Université de Strasbourg in research del-
egation to the Max Planck Institute for Comparative Public Law and
International Law, Heidelberg; Vice-President of the Constitutional
Court of Bosnia and Herzegovina
Rainer Grote, Professor, University of Göttingen; Senior Research
Fellow at the Max Planck Institute for Comparative Public Law and
International Law, Heidelberg
Evelyn Haas, Justice of the (German) Federal Constitutional Court,
1st Senate, Karlsruhe (ret.); Honorary Professor, University of Tübingen
Wolff Heintschel von Heinegg, Professor of International Law,
European Law and Comparative Constitutional Law, University of
Frankfurt/Oder
Gleider I. Hernández, Lecturer in Law, Durham University (2007–
2010); Associate Legal Officer at the International Court of Justice, first
in the Legal Department (2007–2008) and then as law clerk to Vice-
President Peter Tomka and Judge Bruno Simma (2008–2010)
Burkhard Hess, Professor of Civil Law and Law of Civil Procedure,
Private International Law and International Civil Litigation, University
of Heidelberg
Holger P. Hestermeyer, Head of Research Group at the Max Planck
Institute for Comparative Public Law and International Law, Heidelberg
Ellen Hey, Professor of Public International Law, Erasmus School of
Law, Rotterdam, Netherlands
María Teresa Infante Caffi, Professor of International Law, University
of Chile; Co-Director of the Joint Master of Laws Programme,
University of Chile and University of Heidelberg; associate member of
the Institut de Droit international
Jürgen Jekewitz, Ministerialdirektor (ret.); former Head of Division,
Federal Ministry of Justice, Berlin, responsible for Public International
and European Law
 list of contributors and editorsxix

José Luis Jesus, President of the International Tribunal for the Law of
the Sea (2008–present); Chairman of the Preparatory Commission for
the International Seabed Authority and for the International Tribunal
for the Law of the Sea (1987–1995); President of the United Nations
Security Council (1992–1993); Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs
and Cooperation (1996–1998); Minister of Foreign Affairs and
Communities (1998–1999)
James L. Kateka, Judge of the International Tribunal for the Law of
the Sea; former member of the International Law Commission
(1997–2006)
Rahmatullah Khan, President and Secretary-General of the Indian
Society of International Law; former Professor of International Law at
the International Legal Studies Division; former Jawaharlal Nehru
Professor for International Environmental Law at the School of
International Studies, Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi, India
Paul Kirchhof, Professor of Public Law; Director of the Institute of
Finance and Fiscal Law, University of Heidelberg; former Justice of the
(German) Federal Constitutional Court, 2nd Senate, Karlsruhe
Eckart Klein, Professor emeritus of Constitutional Law, Public
International and European Law; former Director of the Human Rights
Centre of the University of Potsdam; Judge of the Constitutional Court
of the Land Bremen; former member of the UN Human Rights
Committee
Tommy Koh, Ambassador-at-Large of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs
of Singapore; Director of the Institute of Policy Studies Singapore; for-
mer Permanent Representative of Singapore to the United Nations,
New York
Doris König, Professor of Public Law, European Law and International
Law, Bucerius Law School, Hamburg; member of the Advisory Board
on International Law of the German Federal Foreign Office
Abdul G. Koroma, Judge of the International Court of Justice; former
member of the International Law Commission (1982–1993); member
of the Institut de Droit international
Rainer Lagoni, Professor emeritus of Public International Law, Law of
the Sea and Constitutional Law; former Director of the Law of the Sea
and Maritime Law Institute, University of Hamburg
xx list of contributors and editors

Wolfgang Löwer, Professor, University of Bonn; Judge of the

Constitutional Court of North Rhine-Westphalia
Anthony A. Lucky, Judge of the International Tribunal for the Law of
the Sea; former Judge of the Supreme Court of Trinidad and Tobago;
Justice of Appeal in the Court of Appeal in Trinidad and Tobago
Vicente Marotta Rangel, Judge of the International Tribunal for the
Law of the Sea; member of the Institut de Droit international
Nele Matz-Lück, Professor for the Law of the Sea, University of Kiel
Makane Moïse Mbengue, Associate Professor, Catholic University of
Lille; Lecturer, Faculty of Law of the University of Geneva, Switzerland
Robert McCorquodale, Director of the British Institute of International
and Comparative Law, London; Professor of International Law and
Human Rights Law, University of Nottingham, United Kingdom
Edward McWhinney, Q.C., Professor emeritus of International Law,
Simon Fraser University, Vancouver, Canada; member and Past
President (1999–2001) of the Institut de Droit international
Thomas A. Mensah, Former Judge (1996–2005) and President (1996–
1999) of the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea; former
Assistant of the Secretary-General, International Maritime Organiza­
tion; former High Commissioner, Ghana High Commission in South
Africa; member of the Institut de Droit international
Fred L. Morrison, Popham, Haik, Lindquist & Vennum Professor of
International Law and Comparative Public Law, University of Minne­
sota Law School, U.S.A.
Peter-Christian Müller-Graff, Professor of Civil Law, Commercial
Law and Economic Law; Director of the Institute for German and
European Company and Economic Law, University of Heidelberg; for-
mer Justice, Court of Appeals, Cologne
L. D. M. Nelson, Judge and former President (2002–2005) of the
International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea
Hanspeter Neuhold, Professor emeritus of International Law and
International Relations, University of Vienna, Austria
Georg Nolte, Professor of German and Comparative Public Law, Public
International Law and European Law, Humboldt University Berlin;
former member of the Venice Commission (2000–2007); member of
 list of contributors and editorsxxi

the International Law Commission; member of the Advisory Board on

International Law of the German Federal Foreign Ministry
Myron H. Nordquist, Professor of Law and Associate Director of the
Center for Oceans Law and Policy, University of Virginia School of
Law, U.S.A.
Karin Oellers-Frahm, Senior Research Fellow at the Max Planck
Institute for Comparative Public Law and International Law, Heidelberg
Stefan Oeter, Professor of German and Comparative Public Law and
Public International Law; Managing Director of the Institute of
International Affairs, University of Hamburg
Francisco Orrego Vicuña, Professor of Law, University of Chile;
member and Past President (2005–2007) of the Institut de Droit
international
Jin-Hyun Paik, Judge of the International Tribunal for the Law of the
Sea; Professor of Law and Director, Institute of International Affairs,
Seoul National University, Korea
Hans-Jürgen Papier, President of the (German) Federal Constitutional
Court, 1st Senate, Karlsruhe (ret.); Professor of Law, University of
Munich
Stanislaw Pawlak, Judge of the International Tribunal for the Law of
the Sea; former member of the International Law Commission (1987–
1991); Professor of International Relations and Public International
Law, Faculty of Journalism and Political Science, University of Warsaw,
Poland
Alain Pellet, Professor of Public International Law, Université Paris-
Ouest, Nanterre-La Défense, France; member and former Chairman of
the International Law Commission; associate member of the Institut
de Droit international
Thomas Pfeiffer, Professor, University of Heidelberg; Director, Institute
for Foreign and International Private and Economic Law, University of
Heidelberg
Fausto Pocar, Professor of International Law, University of Milan,
Italy; ICTY and ICTR Appeals Chamber Judge (since 2000); former
President of the ICTY (2005–2008); former member and Chairman of
the UN Human Rights Committee; member of the Institut de Droit
international
xxii list of contributors and editors

P. Chandrasekhara Rao, Judge and former President (1999–2002) of

the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea
Ekkehart Reimer, Professor; Director of the Institute for Finance and
Tax Law, University of Heidelberg; Judge of the Administrative Court
of Appeals for Baden-Württemberg
W. Michael Reisman, Myres S. McDougal Professor of International
Law, Yale Law School, New Haven, U.S.A.; member of the Institut de
Droit international
Eibe Riedel, Professor emeritus of Law, Faculty of Law and Economics,
University of Mannheim; Swiss Chair of Human Rights, Geneva Acad­
emy of International Humanitarian Law and Human Rights, Switzer­
land; member of the UN Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural
Rights; member of the Advisory Board on International Law of the
German Federal Foreign Office
Volker Röben, Professor of International Law, European Union Law
and Comparative Public Law, Swansea University, United Kingdom
Hélène Ruiz Fabri, Professor of International Law and Dean of the
Law School, University of Paris I–Panthéon Sorbonne; Director of the
UMR de Droit Comparé de Paris, France; President of the European
Society of International Law
Erich Samson, Professor emeritus, Director of the Centre of Legal
Didactics, Bucerius Law School, Hamburg
Eberhard Schmidt-Aßmann, Professor emeritus, Director (ret.) of the
Institute for German and European Administrative Law, University of
Heidelberg
Kirsten Schmalenbach, Professor of International Law and European
Law, University of Salzburg, Austria
Maria Schultheiss, Former Junior Research Fellow, Department of
Economic Law, University of Bern
Anja Seibert-Fohr, Head of Minerva Research Group, Max
Planck Institute for Comparative Public Law and International Law,
Heidelberg
Dinah Shelton, Manatt/Ahn Professor of Law, The George Washington
University Law School, Washington D.C., U.S.A.; President of the
Inter-American Commission on Human Rights
 list of contributors and editorsxxiii

Bruno Simma, Judge of the International Court of Justice; Profes­

sor emeritus, University of Munich; William H. Cook Global Law
Professor, University of Michigan Law School (on leave during ten-
ure at the Court); former member of the International Law Com­
mission (1997–2002); associate member of the Institut de Droit
international
Torsten Stein, Professor of European Law and European Public Law,
Director of the Europa-Institut, University of Saarbrücken
Peter-Tobias Stoll, Professor of Public International Law; Director at
the Institute for International Law and European Law, University of
Göttingen
Daniel Thürer, Professor emeritus of Public International European,
Swiss and Comparative Constitutional Law, University of Zurich; Swiss
Chair at the Academy of International Humanitarian Law, Geneva; Swiss
member of the European Commission against Racism and Intolerance
(ECRI) of the Council of Europe; member of the International Com­
mittee of the Red Cross; Director of the European Institute, University
of Zurich, Switzerland
Peter Tomka, Vice-President of the International Court of Justice; for-
mer member of the International Law Commission (1999–2003)
Christian Tomuschat, Professor emeritus of Public Law, European
Law and Public International Law, Humboldt University Berlin; for-
mer member of the UN Human Rights Committee; former member of
the International Law Commission (1985–1996); former Chairperson
of Guatemala’s Commission for Historical Clarification; member of the
Institut de Droit international
Tullio Treves, Professor of International Law, University of Milan,
Italy; Judge of the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea; mem-
ber of the Institut de Droit international
Helmut Türk, Ambassador (ret.); Judge and Vice-President of the
International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea
Wolfgang Graf Vitzthum, Professor of Law (ret.), University of
Tübingen
Silja Vöneky, Professor of Public Law, International Law, Public Com­
parative Law and Ethics of Law, University of Freiburg
xxiv list of contributors and editors

Budislav Vukas, Professor of International Law, University of Zagreb,

Croatia; member of the Institut de Droit international; former Judge of
the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea (1996–2005)
Christian Walter, Professor of Public Law and International Law,
University of Munich
Joseph H. H. Weiler, Joseph Straus and Jean Monnet Professor of Law,
New York University; Chairman, Hauser Global Law School Program,
New York University; Director, Jean Monnet Center for International
and Regional Economic Law and Justice, New York University, U.S.A.
David Weissbrodt, Regents Professor and Fredrikson & Byron
Professor of Law, University of Minnesota Law School, U.S.A.
Gerd Westdickenberg, German Ambassador (ret.) to the Holy See and
to the Republic of Austria; former Legal Adviser of the German Federal
Foreign Office
Erika de Wet, Professor of International Constitutional Law at the
Amsterdam Center for International Law, University of Amsterdam;
(Co-) Director of the Institute for International and Comparative Law
in Africa, University of Pretoria, South Africa
Astrid Wiik, Research Assistant, Chair of Private International Law
and International Civil Litigation, University of Heidelberg
Luzius Wildhaber, Former Professor at the Universities of Fribourg
(1971–1977) and Basel (1977–1998); Rector, University of Basel
(1992–1994), Switzerland; former Judge (1991–2007) and President
(1998–2007) of the European Court of Human Rights, Strasbourg;
member of the Institut de Droit international
Ingo Winkelmann, Head of Division, Directorate-General for Legal
Affairs, German Federal Foreign Office
Georg Witschel, Ambassador of the Federal Republic of Germany to
Canada; former Legal Adviser of the German Federal Foreign Office
Sir Michael Wood, KCMG, Senior Fellow of the Lauterpacht Centre
for International Law, University of Cambridge; Barrister at 20 Essex
Street, London; member of the International Law Commission
Shunji Yanai, Judge of the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea
 A Tribute to Rüdiger Wolfrum

Rüdiger Wolfrum is not only an eminent international law scholar and

practitioner, but also an inspiring, open-minded and caring person–a
stimulating Lehrer (teacher) and a friend. It is, therefore, a pleasure and
a privilege to present him on his 70th birthday with this Festschrift
(Liber Amicorum) containing a collection of essays by his colleagues,
friends and academic Schüler.
The title of this Festschrift–Coexistence, Cooperation and Solidarity–
reflects the development of public international law from a law of coex-
istence to a law of cooperation between states–as Wolfgang Friedman
pointed out as early as in 1964–to an emerging principle of solidarity
within an international community the legal order of which is based on
common values. This fundamental change of paradigm in international
law has been the most obvious underlying theme, the leitmotif of
Rüdiger Wolfrum’s research interests and scholarly work. Even in his
Habilitationsschrift (post-doctoral thesis), which had the title “Die
Internationalisierung staatsfreier Räume” (The Internationalization of
Common Spaces Outside National Jurisdiction), he analysed the dif-
ferent legal approaches to accommodating the common interests of the
international community in Antarctica, Outer Space, the High Seas
and the Deep Sea-Bed. Although the subjects of his research and writ-
ing have been extremely diverse, the issues of cooperation and, within
the past decade, solidarity play an important role in his legal analyses.
One of the most recent books he edited consequently dealt with
“Solidarity: A Structural Principle in International Law”, and in it he
states, “…, I consider the principle of solidarity … as a mechanism for
a better understanding of the international law and in the medium-
term, perhaps as a means for progressive development of international
law”.
Rüdiger Wolfrum belongs to the generation of Germans who in
their early childhood grew up in a country in ruins after World War II,
but who in the 1950s–1960s experienced not only an economic upswing
but the stabilization of democracy and universities where a change to a
more open and critical society was underway. He was born in Berlin on
13 December 1941 and grew up in Bavaria, Frankfurt and Bonn. After
serving in the German navy, he studied law at the universities of Bonn
xxvi a tribute to rüdiger wolfrum

and Tübingen from 1964–1969. At the University of Bonn he met his

Lehrer Karl Josef Partsch who became his Doktor- und Habilitationsvater
(supervisor of his dissertation and post-doctoral thesis), and with
whom he always maintained a close personal relationship. In 1973 he
finished his doctoral thesis “Die innerparteiliche demokratische
Ordnung nach dem Parteiengesetz” (The Democratic Structure of
Political Parties according to the Law on Political Parties) and passed
his Second State Examination. From 1973 to 1980 he was assistant pro-
fessor at the Institute of International Law in Bonn. At this early stage
in his academic career he published, together with Norbert J. Prill and
Jens A. Brückner, the first comprehensive handbook on the United
Nations in Germany called “Handbuch Vereinte Nationen” which was
updated and extended in a 2nd edition in 1991 and published in an
English version called “United Nations: Law, Policies and Practice” in
1995. After a two-year research sojourn at the Center for Oceans Law
and Policy of the University of Virginia he finished his Habilitation
(post-doctoral thesis) in 1980 and obtained the venia legendi for
National Public and International Public Law.
After a short intermezzo at the University of Mainz he was appointed
Professor of Public Law and International Law at the Christian-
Albrechts-University of Kiel and became Director of the Institute of
International Law (since 1995 the Walther Schücking Institute of
International Law) in 1982–a position he held for 11 years (1982–1993).
Together with Jost Delbrück he took on the task of writing a completely
new second edition of Georg Dahm’s well-known treatise on interna-
tional law. The extensive first volume was published in three sub-vol-
umes in 1989 and 2002. The second volume still awaits its completion–a
task for the future. He actively took part in the legal and administrative
affairs of the law faculty and the university as a whole, and from 1990
to 1993 he served as Vice-Rector of the University of Kiel. In addition,
he was appointed Judge at the Court of Appeals for Administrative
Matters for Niedersachsen (Lower Saxony) and Schleswig-Holstein
from 1986 to 1991 and at the Court of Appeals for Administrative
Matters for Schleswig-Holstein from 1991 to 1993. The cases he dealt
with in court gave him many ideas for case studies his students later
had to work on in their examinations.
Rüdiger Wolfrum always succeeded in establishing a close and fruit-
ful relationship between his academic career and his activities in legal
practice. His participation in the negotiations at the Third United
Nations Conference on the Law of the Sea as legal adviser to the Federal
 a tribute to rüdiger wolfrum xxvii

Ministry of Economics and member of the German delegation from

1980 to 1982 became groundbreaking for his professional life. Here he
experienced international law in the making and learned how to nego-
tiate treaty provisions in a multilateral and multicultural setting. He
met many law of the sea experts from all over the world, some of whom
later became his colleagues at the International Tribunal for the Law of
the Sea. He also took part in the work of the Preparatory Commission
for the International Sea-Bed Authority and for the International
Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, not knowing at that time that one day
he would serve as the latter’s Vice-President and President. When in
the late 1980s it became apparent that most of the industrialized coun-
tries would not ratify the Law of the Sea Convention because of their
objection to Part XI (Deep Sea-Bed Mining), he brought together
international law scholars, legal advisers and diplomats at a conference
in 1990 in Kiel called “Law of the Sea at the Crossroads: The Continuing
Search for a Universally Accepted Regime”. It may be assumed that this
conference, among other things, helped pave the way for the legal and
political compromise to modify Part XI which was finally adopted in
1994.
Building upon his practical experience, he also participated in the
negotiations on the Convention on the Regulation of Antarctic Mineral
Resource Activities from 1983 to 1988 and became chairman of the
Legal Working Group in 1985. After difficult negotiations, this conven-
tion was signed in 1988, but never entered into force because the States
Parties later decided to prohibit all commercial activities relating to
Antarctic mineral resources. Nevertheless, this convention has become
a model for the attempt to balance carefully the interest in commercial
activities on the one hand and the protection of the environment on
the other, as can be seen from the current rules and regulations on
deep-seabed mining. During the negotiating process he organized
three large symposia in Kiel which had considerable influence on the
further development of the Antarctic treaty regime, namely “Antarctic
Challenge I-III” (1984, 1986 and 1988). From 1992 to 1998 he partici-
pated in the Consultative Meetings of Antarctic Treaty Parties and in
1993 was appointed Chairman of the Legal Working Group of the
Antarctic Treaty Consultative Meetings for five years, preparing an
annex to the Protocol on Environmental Protection to the Antarctic
Treaty on responsibility for environmental damage.
He was, however, not just fascinated by the oceans and Antarctica,
but also entered the field of human rights law. From 1990 he served as
xxviii a tribute to rüdiger wolfrum

a member of the UN Committee on the Elimination of Racial

Discrimination. In this capacity, he visited countries where racial dis-
crimination and the suppression of minorities were daily routine. After
two re-elections he resigned from that post in 1999, but his vital inter-
est in the protection of minorities, the rights of indigenous people and
anti-discrimination law has never faded. Given his experience in inter-
national negotiating processes, his advice was sought by several
German government agencies, and he has been a member of the
Advisory Board on International Law at the German Foreign Office for
many years.
After a successful decade in 1993 he left the Kiel Institute of
International Law to become Director of the Max Planck Institute for
Comparative Public Law and International Law (MPIL) in Heidelberg
and Professor at Heidelberg University. He continued to establish close
contacts with many colleagues from all over the world, wrote books,
gave expert advice and organized international symposia on a wide
variety of legal issues in international law. Within the last few years, the
subjects of these symposia have focused on the development of a value-
oriented international legal order based on international institutions
dealing, for example, with “American-European Dialogue: Different
Perceptions of International Law” (2004), “Legitimacy in International
Law” (2006), “Solidarity in International Law” (2008) and “International
Dispute Settlement: Room for Innovations” (2010). As English has
become the common language in the international law community, he
initiated the publication of a second journal of the Institute called the
“Max Planck Yearbook of United Nations Law” which started in 1997.
Moreover, since 2006, the Institute has been editing the “Journal of the
History of International Law”, of which Rüdiger Wolfrum is one of
the editors. As one of his major projects he also edited the seven-
volume Max Planck Commentaries on World Trade Law.
The most audacious project, though, is the publication of the Max
Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law (MPEPIL) under his
general editorship. This encyclopedia is the successor to the well-
known EPIL volumes published by Rudolf Bernhardt between 1992
and 2001. This entirely new addition pursues a new concept and com-
prises more than 1,700 keywords written by more than 800 authors
from about 80 countries. The online version, which will be updated at
regular intervals, was launched in August 2008, and the publication of
the print version is planned for the second half of 2011. He is, however,
not only the general editor of the new MPEPIL–and a very energetic
 a tribute to rüdiger wolfrumxxix

and demanding one–but also the author of numerous keywords, e.g. on

internationalization, the international law of cooperation, the common
heritage of mankind and solidarity in international law.
Among the many international contacts Rüdiger Wolfrum has been
able to maintain are close academic contacts with Israel–he is Managing
Director of the Minerva Foundation which supports the Minerva
Center for Human Rights of the University of Tel Aviv and Hebrew
University of Jerusalem–with Poland and with the United States of
America. He has several times been Visiting Professor at the University
of Minnesota Law School, and together with his friend Fred Morrison
he published a book on “International, Regional and National
Environmental Law”. He has also kept close contact to John Norton
Moore and Myron H. Nordquist from the Center for Oceans Law and
Policy of the University of Virginia. They regularly organized symposia
on law of the sea issues, and in 1995, together with other institutions,
they established the Rhodes Academy of Oceans Law and Policy where
Rüdiger Wolfrum has given lectures almost every summer. Furthermore,
he contributed to an international humanitarian law project at Harvard
University aimed at codifying the customary law rules of air and mis-
sile warfare. And in February 2011 he was invited by his friend Michael
Reisman to lecture at Yale Law School. He also maintained fruitful rela-
tionships with Russian and Asian colleagues. From 1994 to 2003 he was
a member of the Executive Board of the Center for German Law at the
Institute of State and Law at the Russian Academy of Sciences, where
he taught German constitutional and administrative law. As one of
the first European international lawyers he also lectured in Mongolia
and advised Mongolian government authorities. Furthermore, he has
close ties to Latin American colleagues. A few years ago he established,
together with Francisco Orrego Vicuña and María Teresa Infante Caffi,
an LL.M. programme on international (economic) law which is run
jointly by the University of Santiago de Chile and the University of
Heidelberg.
Apart from bilateral academic cooperation, Rüdiger Wolfrum is
committed to several Global Knowledge Transfer projects carried out
by the Max Planck Institute for Comparative Public Law and
International Law. He was particularly engaged in the peace negotia-
tions between North and South Sudan and the constitution-making
process in both parts. In addition, the Heidelberg Darfur Dialogue was
established in 2008, providing a neutral forum for discussion between
lawyers, academics and other representatives of the civil society in
xxx a tribute to rüdiger wolfrum

Darfur. He was also involved in the peace process in Afghanistan.

Under his supervision the Institute significantly supported the re-
construction and stabilization of the Afghan judicial and administra-
tive systems, focusing on the training of law students and profession-
als and on proposals for administrative reforms. Since 2004 several
symposia have been held in Heidelberg and elsewhere to discuss
the complex relationship between international, constitutional and
Islamic law in Islamic countries. Against this backdrop, it is not sur-
prising that his advice was also sought in the state-building process in
Somalia. Building upon his ample experience, last year Rüdiger
Wolfrum organized the symposium on “Shari’a Law in Constitutions of
Muslim Countries: Challenges for the Somali Constitution-Building
Process” which was held in Djibouti and offered a forum for a dialogue
between various Somali political actors. This conference was a success-
ful first step on the long and tedious road to drafting a constitution for
Somalia.
In addition to his many activities at the Max Planck Institute, he still
found the time to participate actively in a number of international law
associations. From 1994 to 1997 he was Chairman of the Board of
the United Nations Association of Germany, and from 2005 to 2009
he served as President of the Deutsche Gesellschaft für Völkerrecht
(German Association for International Law). He also was a member of
the Executive Council of the American Society of International Law
and still is a Board member of the European Society of International
Law. For the latter he organized its third biennial conference in 2008
on the subject of “International Law in a Heterogeneous World” at
the Heidelberg Max Planck Institute. In 2007 he was invited to join the
prestigious Institut de droit international. Moreover, he always
worked for adequate framework conditions guaranteeing the free-
dom of scientific research in general. As early as in the 1970s he wrote
on the protection of marine scientific research, and in the 1990s he
contributed to the Denkschrift “Forschungsfreiheit – Ein Plädoyer für
bessere Rahmenbedingungen der Forschung in Deutschland” (Freedom
of Research–Pleading for Improved Research Conditions in Germany)
published by Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft (German Research
Foundation). From 1992 to 1996 he was a member of the Senate
and from 1996 to 2002 Vice-President of the German Research
Foundation. Subsequently he was appointed Vice-President of the Max
Planck Society for the Advancement of Sciences, Germany’s most suc-
cessful research organization. Promoting independent and ethically
 a tribute to rüdiger wolfrumxxxi

responsible research, he worked, inter alia, on legal questions concern-

ing the use of genetic resources, human dignity and human cloning,
and the politically sensitive issue of research with human pluripotent
stem cells. On these issues he also testified on various occasions before
the pertinent committees of the German Bundestag (House of
Parliament). In 2003 he became one of the Founding Members of the
Humanities Section of the prestigious German Academy of Natural
Sciences (Leopoldina) in Munich.
Against this backdrop, it is not surprising that he participated in a
number of interdisciplinary research projects. At the University of Kiel
he, together with Erich Samson and others, initiated the first interdis-
ciplinary graduate school in cooperation with the Alfred Wegener
Institute for Polar and Maritime Research (AWI). Since 2002 he has
been one of the Directors of the interdisciplinary International Max
Planck Research School for Maritime Affairs in Hamburg. He also
closely cooperated with the Leibniz Institute of Marine Sciences (IFM-
GEOMAR) in Kiel. For many years he was a member of the Execu­
tive Board of GEOMAR (1995–2003) and of the AWI (2000–2006)
respectively. And since 1998 he has been a member of the Working
Group “Biodiversity” of the European Academy for the Research on
Consequences of Scientific-Technological Developments. He has
always been of the opinion that lawyers should not only think within
the categories of their own discipline but enter into a continuous dia-
logue with scientists in order to understand better the underlying
causes of legal problems.
Although Rüdiger Wolfrum’s research interests are, as has been
demonstrated, extremely broad, for many people his name is first and
foremost associated with the law of the sea. This is mainly due to the
fact that he became the first German judge at the International Tribu­
nal for the Law of the Sea (ITLOS) when that Tribunal was inaugurated
in Hamburg in 1996. He was re-elected twice, in 1999 and in 2008, and
he served as Vice-President from 1996 to 1999 and as President of the
Tribunal from 2005 to 2008. With his thorough knowledge of general
international law and his academic approach he exerted a considerable
influence on the jurisprudence of ITLOS, either by working on the
drafts of the Tribunal’s decisions or by writing separate or dissenting
opinions. Under his presidency the Tribunal started to organize
regional workshops in different parts of the world to raise awareness of
the various dispute settlement mechanisms and proceedings the
Tribunal offers States and individuals to solve law of the sea disputes.
xxxii a tribute to rüdiger wolfrum

He has also firmly supported the establishment of the Summer

Academy on the law of the sea and maritime law which, starting in
2007, is organized annually at the Tribunal by the International
Foundation for the Law of the Sea. For his many achievements con-
cerning the Tribunal’s work he is held in high esteem by his fellow
judges, a fact which is documented by the many contributions by his
colleagues on the bench to this Festschrift. His qualities as a learned and
impartial judge have also been appreciated outside the Tribunal. Since
2001 he has been a member of the International Environmental Board
of Arbitration at the Permanent Court of Arbitration in The Hague. In
2009 he was appointed President of the arbitral tribunal in the mari-
time delimitation case of Bangladesh v. India and he is a member of the
arbitral tribunal in the case of Mauritius v. United Kingdom concern-
ing the Chagos archipelago which was established in March 2011.
For his many activities in academic life and as a practitioner of
international law he has earned respect and gratitude at home and
abroad. In 1999 he was awarded a Doctor honoris causa of both the
Russian Academy of Sciences and Shihutug Law College in Ulan Bator,
Mongolia, and since 2006 he has been an Honorary Member of the
Mongolian Academy of Sciences. In 2002 he was appointed Honorary
Professor of the University of Hamburg, and in 2003 he joined the
university’s Hochschulrat (Board of Trustees). In 2008 he was hon-
oured by the German Government with the Commander’s Cross of
the Order of Merit of the Federal Republic of Germany (Großes
Bundesverdienstkreuz).
Rüdiger Wolfrum is, however, not just a renowned international
law scholar and judge, but also an inspiring teacher. In his seminars
he enjoys thorough discussions of legal issues and he succeeds in shar-
ing with his students his own enthusiasm for a value-based interna-
tional legal order. He has lectured at many foreign universities as
visiting professor, and one of the highlights was certainly his lecture on
“Means of Ensuring Compliance with and Enforcement of International
Environmental Law” at the Hague Academy of International Law in
1998. He has been a demanding Doktorvater for generations of young
German and foreign lawyers, and he took the time to organize meet-
ings of his former and current PhD students in Kiel and in Heidelberg.
In this context it should be noted that he has especially encouraged
young female lawyers to follow an academic career. Not surprisingly,
four out of his seven Habilitanden are women–an unusually high per-
centage in German academia.
 a tribute to rüdiger wolfrumxxxiii

And, last but not least, it needs to be said that Rüdiger Wolfrum
would not have been the man he is without his wonderful wife Hilde to
whom he has been married for more than 40 years. They have two sons
and five grandchildren whose company he thoroughly enjoys. Hilde
and Rüdiger Wolfrum have always held open house, and countless col-
leagues, visiting lecturers, research fellows and students have been reg-
ular guests in their family homes in Kiel and Heidelberg. Their
hospitality has always been impressive and the annual feast in spring
for his Heidelberg academic staff at which they cater for a company of
about 40 people with asparagus and their own wine from the Saale-
Unstrut region is legendary.
This Festschrift is a means for his Schüler, colleagues and friends to
thank Rüdiger Wolfrum for his activities, his advice, support, hospital-
ity and friendship. It is divided into seven parts covering the main areas
of law he has written and taught about. The first part (edited by Peter-
Tobias Stoll) focuses on cooperation and solidarity in international law
in general and international economic law in particular; the second
part (Anja Seibert-Fohr) on human rights protection; the third (Nele
Matz-Lück) on the global commons; the fourth (Silja Vöneky) on secu-
rity issues, peace-keeping and state-building; the fifth (Volker Röben)
on global governance and the role of the United Nations; the sixth
(Doris König) on dispute settlement, international courts and proceed-
ings; and the seventh (Holger P. Hestermeyer) deals with various
aspects of national law in different contexts. We want to express our
gratitude to all those who have assisted us for their dedicated support
of the editing process, native speaker check, correspondence and
proofreading.
We hope that Rüdiger Wolfrum will enjoy reading the contributions
written in his honour, and we wish him good health, joy at work, time
to spend with his wife and family, and that he may continue to work for
cooperation and solidarity within the international community for
many more years to come!

April 2011    For the editors

Doris König
 Part I

Coexistence, Cooperation and Solidarity in

International Law
 The International Obligation to Cooperate–An
Empty Shell or a Hard Law Principle of
International Law?–A Critical Look at a Much
Debated Paradigm of Modern International Law

Jost Delbrück

A. Introduction

Fifteen years ago, Rüdiger Wolfrum contributed to the Encyclopedia of

Public International Law an authoritative article on the International
Law of Cooperation.1 The article was written at a point in time when–
due to the rising influence of the Third World countries within and
outside the United Nations, particularly in the UN General Assembly–
the problem of how to cope with the growing economic and social dis-
parities between the developed and less developed countries became
the dominant focus of politicians and many international legal schol-
ars. It stands to reason that such a gigantic task as the development of a
just economic and social international order could be brought about
only by a collective effort of the international community of States, i.e.
by close international cooperation. And, indeed, the necessity of inter-
national cooperation as a way to reach the goal of a more just economic
and social order has been continuously emphasized in a great number
of universal and regional multilateral treaties–notably the Charter of
the United Nations–and in solemn declarations adopted by the UN
General Assembly, such as the Friendly Relations Resolution of 1970,2
the Declaration on the Establishment of a New Economic Order and
the relevant Programme of Action3 and the Charter of Rights and
Duties of States.4 However, the seemingly broad consensus with regard
to the necessity of international cooperation does not mean that there
was and is now a consensus with regard to the question whether the

1
 See R. Wolfrum, in: Rudolf Bernhardt (ed.), Encyclopedia of Public International
Law (EPIL), Vol. II (1995), 1242–1247.
2
GA Res. 2625 (XXV) of 24 October 1970.
3
 See GA Res. 3201 and 3202 (S-VI).
4
 See GA Res. 3281 (XXIX).
4 jost delbrück

various declarations and treaties on international cooperation have

established a binding general obligation on the States to cooperate.
While Third World states have insisted that such general obligation to
cooperate as expressed in the various declarations and treaties has been
established, Western states in particular have rejected this position. In
his article, Wolfrum convincingly argued that such a general obligation
to cooperate had not emerged, but he pointed out that in some instances
treaties of universal reach, such as, for instance, the Antarctic Treaty,5
the Outer Space Treaty,6 and the UN Convention on the Law of the
Sea,7 have indeed established an obligation to cooperate. Wolfrum’s
conclusion that–as of the time when he wrote his article–a general obli-
gation on States to cooperate did not exist–and it does not exist today
-, but that States could–and actually did–agree to an obligation to
cooperate in specific treaties raises an important point: It appears that
a general obligation to cooperate is not feasible in the present interna-
tional system, but that obligations to cooperate may be–and actually
are–acceptable in specific treaties and contexts. And, indeed, a look
into state practice with regard to obligations to cooperate shows these
are obviously acceptable and are not seen as an undue burden on State
sovereignty. In the following sections, it will be attempted to survey the
subject areas where obligations to cooperate play an important role in
State practice. But it will also be shown where the limitations of the
concept of obligations to cooperate are still evident.

B. A Survey of State Practice with regard to Undertaking

Obligations to Cooperate in Selected Areas

I. The Term “Cooperation” Defined

Before surveying state practice with regard to undertaking obligations
to cooperate it is necessary to give an at least rough definition of the
term cooperation. According to a minimal definition of cooperation
the term could mean that states are to enter into contact with each

5
The Antarctic Treaty of 1 December 1959, UNTS Vol. 402, 71 et seq.
6
The Treaty on Principles Governing The Activities of States in the Exploration and
Use of Outer Space, Including the Moon and Other Celestial Bodies of 27 January
1967, UNTS Vol. 610, 205 et seq.
7
 UN Convention on the Law of the Sea of 10 December 1982; International Legal
Materials Vol. 21, 1261 et seq.
 the international obligation to cooperate5

other. Thus far, it could be argued that under general international law
states are under an obligation to cooperate. Although none of the
relevant documents like the UN Charter or the Friendly Relations
Declaration and others have defined the term “cooperation”, following
Wolfrum in his article–one can derive a definition from these docu-
ments that reads as follows: the term cooperation “describes the volun-
tary coordinated action of two or more States which takes place under
a legal régime and serves a specific objective” and to “this extent marks
the effort of States to accomplish an object by joint action, where the
activity of a single State cannot achieve the same result”.8 However, this
definition is nothing but the description of the technical process of
cooperation, as Wolfrum rightly states, “cooperation as such has no
inherent value”. Indeed, cooperation for the sake of cooperation does
not make sense. Therefore the meaning of the operational meaning of
the term “cooperation” can only be derived from the specific goal to be
pursued by cooperation. In line with the dominant concerns of the
Third World States and many international politicians and interna-
tional legal scholars at the time when his article was written, Wolfrum
concluded that in this context the term “cooperation” means “coopera-
tion among States for the purposes of development to increase the
social welfare of the world community”. While this particular defini-
tion of the term “cooperation” in the context of development seems to
be widely accepted, a corresponding general obligation to cooperate in
the sense of this definition is still not established, but, as mentioned
before, States parties to the Antarctic Treaty and the Convention of the
Law of the Sea have accepted such obligation.
Meanwhile, the question whether obligations to cooperate exist in
other areas of State practice and–if so–to what extent has received the
attention of international legal scholarship in recent years. As areas
where international cooperation is essential the international protec-
tion of human rights, the duty to cooperate in international economic
law and related areas, and the duty to cooperate in international
dispute settlement have become the focus of international legal
scholarship.9

8
 Wolfrum (note 1), at 1242.
9
 See J. Delbrück (ed.), International Law of Cooperation and State Sovereignty,
Proceedings of an International Symposium of the Kiel Walther Schücking Institute of
International Law (2001).
6 jost delbrück

II. The Duty to Cooperate in the International Protection

of Human Rights
1. Traditionally, the protection of human rights has been a strictly
internal matter for the States. In the course of the constitutionalization
of the internal legal order of states–beginning with the American
Declaration of Independence of 4 July 1776 and the adoption of the
Constitution of the United States of 4 March 1789, the French revolu-
tion of 1789 and the Déclaration des Droits de l’Homme et du Citoyen
of 26 August 1789–the difficult struggle for the recognition of funda-
mental human rights of the individual by States was the hallmark of
politics throughout the 19th century and well into the middle of the
20th. This is not to say that the struggle for the protection of human
rights ended in the middle of the 20th century. On the contrary, the
protection of fundamental human rights won more support than ever
before. What did change at that time was that the dogma according to
which the protection of human rights was a strictly internal matter of
the States was no longer accepted. For, after the end of World War II,
when the full extent of the massive human rights violations committed
by the German National-Socialist regime and to some extent by associ-
ated Fascist regimes as well as the forced relocation and expulsion of
peoples from their home countries became known, in the post war
years, the protection of human rights became an international concern.
For the first time in history an international organization, the newly
established United Nations, proclaimed in its Charter as one of its main
purposes “to achieve international cooperation […] in promoting and
encouraging respect for human rights and for fundamental freedoms
for all without distinction as to race, sex, language, or religion” (Article
1 para. 3). The Charter empowers the General Assembly “to initiate
studies and make recommendations for the purpose of […](b) pro-
moting international cooperation […] (in) assisting in the realization
of human rights and fundamental freedoms for all without distinction
as to race, sex, language or religion” (Article13 para. 1 lit. b).
Furthermore, according to Article 55 lit. c the United Nations shall
promote “universal respect for, and observance of, human rights and
fundamental freedoms for all without distinction as to race, sex, lan-
guage, or religion”. To underline that Article 55 was not of merely
exhortatory nature, Article 56 states that “[a]ll Members pledge them-
selves to take joint and separate action in cooperation with the
Organization for the achievement of the purposes set forth in Article
55”. These Charter articles were reaffirmed by the Universal Declaration
 the international obligation to cooperate7

of Human Rights,10 adopted by the UN General Assembly in 1948, and

further elaborated by the UN General Assembly in the already men-
tioned Friendly Relations Declaration that affirms the “duty of States to
co-operate with one another in accordance with the Charter”, i.e. that
they “shall co-operate in the promotion of universal respect for, and
observance of, human rights and fundamental freedoms for all, and in
the elimination of all forms of racial discrimination and all forms of
religious intolerance”. Granted that the Friendly Relations Declaration
as a resolution adopted by the UN General Assembly is not binding,
the Declaration, adopted 25 years after the UN Charter entered into
force, is an important indication by the UN Members of their resolve to
stand by their obligations under the UN Charter.11 Given the fact that
the obligation to cooperate for the protection of human rights today
possesses a firm legal basis in international law, the question remains
how this obligation is implemented in State practice.
2. State practice in implementing the obligation to cooperate for the
protection of human rights shows a wide range of modes and tech-
niques.12 To name only the most common of the approaches to human
rights cooperation, bilateral diplomacy, regional institutional coopera-
tion, cooperation with the United Nations and non-governmental
organizations, and unilateral or multilateral sanctions to induce a state
to comply with human rights obligations come to mind. Although the
last, at first sight, does not seem to fit the concept of cooperation–and
indeed using sanctions to induce a State to comply with human rights
obligations by itself is not a cooperative action vis-à-vis a State violat-
ing human rights, but it is a joint operation by States, i.e. an act of
international cooperation to promote respect for, and observance of,
human rights and fundamental freedoms as provided for in Article 55
UN Charter. Regional institutional cooperation for the protection of

10
 See GA Res. 217 A (III) of 10 December 1948, which in its preamble reiterates the
pledge of the UN Members to “achieve, in co-operation with the United Nations, the
promotion of universal respect for and observation of human rights and fundamental
freedoms”.
11
Curiously, of the two International Covenants on Economic, Social and Cultural
Rights (ESCR) and on Civil and Political Rights (CCPR), adopted by the UN General
Assembly in 1966, only the first refers to international cooperation as a means of
“achieving progressively the full realization of the rights recognized in the present
Covenant” (Article 2 section 1): see the text of the ESCR in UNTS Vol. 993, 3 et seq.
and of the CCPR in UNTS Vol. 999, 171 et seq.
12
 For a thorough analysis of ways and means of cooperation for the protection of
human rights see Lori Fisler Damrosh, Obligations of Cooperation in the International
Protection of Human Rights, in: J. Delbrück (note 9), 15 et seq.
8 jost delbrück

human rights has been successfully established–to a varying degree–in

Europe, in the Americas, and in Africa. The most advanced regional
institutional human rights protection has been established in Europe
due to the rather homogeneous value orientation shared by the
European States–an indispensable precondition for the successful pro-
tection of human rights on an institutional basis.13 Within the frame-
work of the Council of Europe, founded in 1949, the European
Convention on Human Rights of 195014 led to the creation of the
“machinery of collective enforcement through the Convention organs
on the basis of individual or State application”,15 that–in order to be
effective–implicitly obligates the states parties to the Convention to
cooperate with the European Court of Human Rights. While the
Council of Europe remained a project of Western European States
throughout the Cold War period, the so-called Helsinki process–
beginning with the Conference on Security and Co-operation in
Europe that opened in Helsinki on 3 July 1973 and ended there on 1
August 1975–brought about not only gradual improvements of
East-West political relations, but also the commitment to respect for
human rights and fundamental freedoms by the member States of
the Eastern and Western political camps. This commitment was reaf-
firmed in the Charter of Paris for a new Europe of 1990 and ultimately
became the basis for the human rights protection efforts of the
Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) when
the Conference on Security and Co-operation (CSCE) was transformed
into a permanent international organization in 1995.16 Similar interna-
tional regional legal human rights instruments and organizations
were adopted in the Americas beginning as early as 1948, and in Africa
in 1981.17
3. This, in the present context, necessarily short survey of the results
of the cooperative endeavours of the international community of States
to provide the regional international legal and institutional framework

 See W. Friedmann, The Changing Structure of International Law, at 63 (1964).

13

 UNTS Vol. 213, 221/ETS No.5.

14
15
 See J.A. Frowein, European Convention of Human Rights, in: EPIL Vol.II, 190.
16
 For more details see S. Hobe / O. Kimminich, Einführung in das Völkerrecht, 141
et seq. (8th ed. 2004).
17
Cf. The Charter of the Organization of American States of 30 April 1948, in:
UNTS Vol. 119 (1952), 3 et seq., and the American Convention on Human Rights of 22
November 1969, O.A.S, Treaty series No.36,1; African (Banjul) Charter on Human
Rights and Peoples Rights of 27 June 1981, in: International Legal Materials Vol. 21
(1982), 58 et seq.
 the international obligation to cooperate9

for the protection of human rights shows a remarkable common effort

of almost all states to live up to their pledges to promote respect for and
observance of human rights. However, at a closer look it becomes clear
that there is a regrettable difference between the recognition of the
duty to cooperate in providing the legal institutional framework for the
protection of human rights and actual compliance with the human
rights norms in practice. For instance, time and again States do not
cooperate with other States in their efforts to induce a State to comply
with human rights, arguing that human rights are an exclusively
domestic matter and that therefore intervention would violate the sov-
ereignty of the Violator State. In other cases, their refusal to cooperate
with other States in their effort to induce States to comply with their
human rights obligations may be due to overriding interests, such as
the interest not to endanger good neighbourly relations with the
Violator State. Admittedly, non-forcible measures to induce States vio-
lating human rights to comply with their obligations under the various
human rights treaties are preferable,18 but the post-World War II his-
tory shows that enforcement actions to secure compliance with the
most fundamental human rights may be necessary and legal, provided
they are undertaken in cooperation with the universal or regional
international organizations.

III. The Obligation to Cooperate in International Economic Law

1. As mentioned before, the meaning of the concept of cooperation
depends on the goals that cooperation is to achieve. While coopera-
tion in the area of international human rights protection is ulti-
mately aimed at promoting respect for and observance of the human
rights of individuals living within particular States, international
cooperation in economic areas is “necessary in order to ensure coher-
ence in international economic law”, i.e. to bring about a coherence in
international economic law that “per se is concerned with a global
public good: the general global welfare”.19 It is not surprising that–
given the broad scope of subjects covered by international economic
law in general and the law of the World Trade Organization (WTO) in

18
 See the forceful argument in favour of non-forcible measures to achieve compli-
ance with human rights obligations by A. Chayes / A. Handler Chayes, The New
Sovereignty: Compliance with International Regulatory Agreements (1995), 3 et seq.
19
 See C. Tietje, The Duty to Cooperate in International Economic Law and Related
Areas, in: J. Delbück (note 9).
10 jost delbrück

particular–cooperation in these fields shows a variety of modes and

mechanisms to implement obligations to cooperate.
2. Because of the wide range of subjects that the WTO is bound to
deal with and that necessarily affect the actions of other international
organizations such as the World Bank, the International Monetary
Fund (IMF) and a number of other important international organiza-
tions institutional cooperation is not only desirable but obligatory. The
obligation of international economic organizations to cooperate has
found a firm legal basis in a number of agreements between, e.g., the
Bretton Woods Institutions and the United Nations, amongst the
Bretton Woods Institutions themselves, and between the WTO and the
United Nations, which in turn are based on the founding instruments
of the cooperating institutions, e.g. the Agreement Establishing the
WTO (Article III.5) or the IMF Agreement (Article X) and the World
Bank Agreement (Article V section 8a).20 These examples of institu-
tional cooperation in the international economic area only highlight
the ongoing process of the development of a close network of coopera-
tion that increasingly takes on an administrative structure and could
also be seen as an emerging “international administration” in its own
right.21
Next to cooperation between international institutions, coopera-
tion between institutions and States plays an important role in the
international economic order. For instance, duties to cooperate derive
from the membership of States of organizations like the WTO. The
Agreement Establishing the WTO obliges the Member States to bring
their national laws, regulations, and administrative procedures into
conformity with WTO law. To comply with this obligation States and
the WTO are required to cooperate closely. Another example of coop-
eration between international institutions and States is the obligation
of Member States of the General Agreement on Trade and Services
(GATS) under Article VI para. 1 GATS “to ensure that all measures of
general application affecting trade in services are administered in a rea-
sonable, objective and impartial manner”. In other words, States and
GATS have the duty to cooperate in order to comply with GATS law.22

20
 For a more complete survey of the cooperation agreements between the leading
institutions in the international economic area see Tietje (note 9), at 49 et seq.
21
 See Tietje (note 9), at 55.
22
 For further details see Tietje (note 9), at 57 with additional references.
 the international obligation to cooperate11

Finally, a third mode of cooperation in international economic rela-

tions is interstate cooperation. Interstate relations in the economic area
are particularly prone to stirring up conflicts because states–pursuing
their trade policies primarily in their national interest–may negatively
affect the trade policies of other States or run counter to internationally
agreed goals like the protection of the environment or, vice versa, a
State may undertake unilateral measures aimed at the protection of the
environment which–given the necessarily extraterritorial effect of
these measures–would have a negative effect on the economic policies
of other States. Under traditional international law such unilateral
extraterritorial measures were regarded as incompatible with the prin-
ciple of State sovereignty, and therefore illegal. However, as the
Appellate Body of the WTO ruled in the Shrimp Case,23 in order to be
able to justify an extraterritorial measure aimed at protecting the envi-
ronment, States first have to try to solve the underlying global environ-
mental problem through efforts at global negotiations, i.e. the States
concerned have a duty to cooperate in the effort to achieve the desired
goal.24 It appears that–despite the often divergent national interests of
the States–the legal basis of the duty to cooperate in the international
economic area could be developed because the States recognized the
necessity to develop international economic policies and the respective
legal rules for the common global good.

IV. Cooperation in International Dispute Settlement

1. International dispute settlement is one of the cornerstones of the
international legal and political peace order, as envisaged by the found-
ing fathers and mothers of the United Nations Organization, and was
laid down in Article 1 para. 1 and Article 2 para. 3 UN Charter. In view
of the several important Declarations adopted by the UN General
Assembly that have re-affirmed the obligation of States in general and
UN Member States in particular to cooperate in dispute settlement,
one can safely conclude that the principle of peaceful settlement of
international disputes is accepted as a binding principle of customary

23
 United States–Import Prohibition of Certain Shrimp and Shrimp Products,
Report of the Appellate Body of 12 October 1998, WT/DS58/AB/R, paras.164 and 166
et seq.
24
 For further details see Tietje (note 9), at 63 et seq.
12 jost delbrück

international law.25 The question remains what the term “international

dispute” means. Does it cover disputes only among States or does it
cover disputes between e.g. non-State entities like non-governmental
organizations or individuals, as well. It has been convincingly argued
that–given the important role that non-State actors play in interna-
tional relations–the term “international dispute” covers any dispute
that is based on international law.26
2. The modes and means of cooperation in international dispute set-
tlement are as diverse as the modes and means of international dispute
settlement themselves. As mentioned earlier, the concrete meaning of
cooperation can only be derived from the specific goal to be pursued by
it.27 In the context of the international settlement of disputes coopera-
tion means that the parties to a conflict–which by its nature “implies
disagreement and non-cooperation”- are obliged to enter into “some
kind of cooperation, in procedure or in substance, between the parties”
that “is needed to overcome the conflict”.28 Article 33 para. 1 UN
Charter enumerates the canon of means for the peaceful settlement of
international disputes: so-called political means such as negotiations,
fact-finding, mediation and good offices and assistance by regional
agencies or arrangements, as well as legal means such as arbitration
and adjudication by arbitral tribunals and courts, from which the par-
ties to a dispute can choose the means to which they will submit them-
selves. However, in practice the free choice principle entails the problem
that parties to a dispute may disagree on which mode of dispute resolu-
tion should be applied. In such an impasse the duty to cooperate comes
into play. The duty requires the two parties to negotiate with the aim of
reaching agreement on one of the means of dispute settlement, and to
do so in good faith, which is an intrinsic element of international coop-
eration in general.29

25
 See A. Peters, Cooperation in International Dispute Settlement, in: J. Delbrück
(note 9), 108 et seq.,with reference to the Friendly Relations Declaration (note 2), the
Manila Declaration on the Peaceful Settlement of International Disputes of 15
November 1982 (GA Res. 37/10), in: ILM XXI (1982), 449 et seq., and the numerous
treaties on the peaceful settlement of international disputes concluded by states ever
since the Hague Convention on the Peaceful Settlement of International Disputes of 29
July 1899.
26
 See Peters (note 25).
27
 See supra page 9.
28
Peters (note 25), at 112.
29
Peters (note 25), at 131; for a list of duties to cooperate ensuing from the principle
of good faith see id., at 131–132.
 the international obligation to cooperate13

Numerous duties to cooperate can be identified within adjudication

procedures. Thus, States parties to an arbitration or court proceedings
are obliged to cooperate with courts and arbitration panels by provid-
ing them with documents and other evidence, which is particularly
important in cases before the International Criminal Court or before
the International Criminal Tribunals for the Former Yugoslavia and
the International Tribunal for Rwanda. Also, parties to such proceed-
ings have the duty not to frustrate the functioning of the court or panel
by, e.g., non-appearance or–in arbitration proceedings–failure to
appoint the national arbitrator. Though still not complete, the preced-
ing array of legally constituted duties of states to cooperate in different
international contexts seems to indicate that much progress has been
made beyond the references to obligations to cooperate in the UN
Charter and in the important, but initially non-binding Declarations
adopted by the UN General Assembly on the necessity of international
cooperation. And progress appears to have been made as compared
with the standard or principle of international cooperation as described
by Wolfrum in his 1995 article.30 The question whether much progress
has been made in the recognition of the duty or duties to cooperate, not
only in theory but also in state practice, remains to be discussed.

C. Duties to Cooperate, Compliance and State Sovereignty

The seemingly closely knit network of obligations to cooperate in many

areas of international relations shows, however, a number of loopholes
that seriously impair the effectiveness of the duties to cooperate. First,
as mentioned before, there is no general customary law-based obliga-
tion to cooperate.31 International duties to cooperate are based on trea-
ties made by sovereign States. This obviously trivial observation is not
trivial at all. For it implies that States as sovereign actors may make
treaties meant to create duties to cooperate or they may not do so. Or–
if some States do make such a treaty–others may refuse to become
party to that treaty. In plain words, this means that basing duties to
cooperate on a treaty may help to strengthen inter-State cooperation,
on the one hand, but on the other hand, this approach leaves it in the
discretion of the sovereign States whether they adhere to that treaty or

 See supra note 1.

30

 See supra page 2.

31
14 jost delbrück

not. Furthermore, even if States have accepted and ratified, for exam-
ple, a treaty on cooperation for the protection of human rights “there is
often a second level of discretion with regard to cooperation in treaty
bodies on the basis of optional clauses”,32 i.e. that States may refuse to
submit themselves to the jurisdiction of a court or to an arbitration
panel. In only one area, the international protection of human rights,
have States parties to the European Convention on Human Rights
strengthened the duty to cooperate with the adoption of 11th Additional
Protocol by which submission to individual petitions and to the Court
is no longer within the discretion of the Parties. However, aside from
the example just mentioned, it has been shown that States generally
still have a good deal of discretion, for instance, in the course of the
peaceful settlement of a dispute, when it comes to making the choice
between the several means of dispute settlement. Given the latitude of
discretion that States have, failure to come to an agreement is a real
possibility. Such failure to agree on one of the means of dispute settle-
ment may be due to insurmountable differences despite bona fide
negotiations or to the deliberate obstruction of an agreement by one of
the disputing parties, or even by both.
The effectiveness of duties to cooperate is also impaired by non-
cooperation–an option that is still used by States as sovereign actors.
When a State is not cooperating in the field of the protection of human
rights, the international community of States may react to such non-
cooperation by making human rights violations public. Publication of
human rights violations–be it by Non-governmental organizations
(NGOs) or by Human Rights Courts in their judicial findings–has had
a strong impact on State behaviour–actually stronger than traditional
means like the application of sanctions.33 A particularly problematic
way to react to non-cooperation is unilateralism. For instance, power-
ful States may turn to unilateralism when they decide that they may
achieve their foreign policy goals by unilateral action rather than by
cooperation. In other words, because the international system is “based
on the fiction of sovereign equality”, the system is in fact characterized
“by gross inequalities in power that are a structural obstacle to coop-
eration”34 and thus encourages the powerful States “to go it alone”. Their

32
 See C. Schreuer, State Sovereignty and the Duty of States to Cooperate–Two
Incompatible Notions? in: J. Delbrück (note 9), at 172 et seq.
33
 See Schreuer (note 32), at 175.
34
 See Schreuer (note 32), at 177 et seq.
 the international obligation to cooperate15

allegedly legal basis for their unilateral actions is State sovereignty,

which appears to be interpreted not in terms of the “international law
of cooperation”, but in terms of the traditional “law of coexistence”, at
best. However, the concept of state sovereignty has undergone substan-
tial change. The traditional, almost mythical hypostasis of the concept
of state sovereignty in the 19th and well into the first half the 20th cen-
turies has given way to a much more temperate perception of the con-
cept. Sovereignty today describes the status of States as subjects of
international law, and their capacity to act within the bounds of inter-
national law, i.e. to interact with other states by diplomatic means or by
joining international organizations. As has been aptly observed, coop-
eration by States actually is “the most important manifestation of sov-
ereignty”.35 Thus, one might be inclined to conclude that sovereignty
per se is not–as was assumed in earlier times–an obstacle to interna-
tional cooperation. Rather, one has to realize that the effectiveness of
the numerous binding duties to cooperate is, time and again, impaired
or even completely frustrated by the failure of States to comply with the
existing body of binding international duties to cooperate–or at least
parts of it. And they do so fully convinced that it is their sovereign
right. Repeated non-compliance with the norms of international law,
in general, and with the obligations to cooperate in the three areas
described earlier, in particular, may not necessarily be a breach of
international law,36 but–on a different level–they are also a clear sign
that the international community still lacks a badly needed ethic of
compliance with the law (Ethos der Rechtsbefolgung).37
In view of the rather mixed picture of progress in terms of the
growing number of duties to cooperate, on the one hand, and the still
unsatisfactory degree of implementation of such duties because of
non-compliance, on the other hand, answering the question posed
in the title of this essay is not easy. First of all, there appears to be
widespread consensus among international law scholars that a general

35
 Schreuer (note 32), at 179.
36
 Schreuer (note 32), at 175.
37
 On this concept see J. Delbrück, Gewaltfreie Konfliktregelung und Sicherheits-
partnerschaft–Erfahrungen und Möglichkeiten (Conflict Resolution without Violence
and Security in Partnership–Experiences and Possibilities), in: E. Lohse / U. Wilckens
(eds.), Gottes Friede den Völkern, at 344 et. seq. (1984); also J. Delbrück / K. Dicke, The
Christian Peace Ethic and the Doctrine of Just War from the Point of View of
International Law, 28 German Yearbook of International Law, at 196 et seq, at 208
(1985).
16 jost delbrück

obligation to cooperate does not exist. However, given the rather

impressive array of specific duties to cooperate in several important
areas of international relations, one may conclude that the concept of
an international obligation to cooperate is not a completely empty
shell. And it can also be concluded that in the process of developing
international obligations to cooperate a number of specific duties to
cooperate have reached the status of hard law. But it must also be
admitted that the hard law obligations to cooperate share the fate of
other binding rules of international law, i.e. that some States still prefer
not to comply with the hard law obligations.
 State Debt Crisis, Private Creditors, and
the IMF Articles of Agreement

Werner F. Ebke

A. Prologue

This Festschrift pays tribute to an extraordinary man, a distinguished

professor, a superb scholar, an internationally recognized judge and
an excellent teacher who has inspired many academics, judges, lawyers
and students throughout the world. As former Vice-President (1996–
1999) and President (2005–2008) and Judge (1996-present) of the
International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, Rüdiger Wolfrum is a
member of an international tribunal which functions as one of four
dispute resolution mechanisms in matters concerning the United
Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea. The International Tribunal
for the Law of the Sea is the central forum established by the United
Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea for the peaceful settlement
of disputes. The jurisdiction of the Tribunal comprises all disputes and
all applications submitted to it in accordance with the United Nations
Convention on the Law of the Sea and all matters specifically provided
for in any other agreement which confers jurisdiction upon the
Tribunal. In addition, the Tribunal has exclusive jurisdiction, through
its Seabed Disputes Chamber, with respect to disputes relating to activ-
ities in the international seabed area. These matters include disputes
between states concerning the interpretation or application of the pro-
visions of the Convention, along with those of the Agreement Relating
to the Implementation of the Part XI of the Convention, concerning
the deep seabed area, as well as other categories of disputes as men-
tioned in Article 187, section 5, part XI of the Convention. While natu-
ral and juridical persons having seabed contracts may also resort to the
Tribunal’s special Seabed Disputes Chamber under Articles 187 and
189 of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, the
Tribunal has not had the opportunity to resolve disputes involving
private parties.
Nevertheless, Rüdiger Wolfrum, who is a member of the Seabed
Disputes Chamber, has always understood the significance of public
18 werner f. ebke

international law for, and its impact upon, international matters involv-
ing private parties. It is, therefore, against the backdrop of Rüdiger
Wolfrum’s contextual and multifaceted understanding of the relation-
ship between public international law and private international busi-
ness and finance matters and of his deep interest in the legal system
as a whole that this Article on the role of international monetary law
in the current international state debt crisis is presented as a modest
tribute.

B. Bretton Woods: The International Monetary System

The modern international monetary system is rooted in the Articles of

Agreement of the International Monetary Fund (IMF Articles of
Agreement or Fund Agreement) which were negotiated in Bretton
Woods, New Hampshire, in July of 1944. The Bretton Woods confer-
ence was to lay the ground for a post-World War II international mon-
etary system. On December 27, 1945, the Articles of Agreement took
effect and the International Monetary Fund (IMF) came into being as
an international organization. In his book The Rules of the Game,
Kenneth Dam rightly calls the constitutionalization of the international
monetary system in the IMF Articles of Agreement “the key interna-
tional monetary policy decision of the [20th] century.”1 The present
essay analyses the contribution, both actual and potential, of public
international law in general2 and the IMF Articles of Agreement in par-
ticular3 to the resolution of disputes between states and private credi-
tors in connection with the current international state debt crisis.
In this context, Article VIII, section 2(b) of the IMF Articles of

1
Dam, The Rules of the Game, at 71 (1982). For a brief historical account of the
genesis and development of the IMF see Lowenfeld, The International Monetary
System: A Look Back over Seven Decades, 13 Journal of International Economic Law
575 (2010).
2
For the role of public international law see, e.g., Szodruch, Staateninsolvenz und
private Gläubiger. Rechtsprobleme des Private Sector Involvement bei staatlichen
Finanzkrisen im 21. Jahrhundert (2008); Tietje, Die Argentinienkrise aus rechtlicher
Sicht: Staatenanleihen und Staateninsolvenz (2005); Kämmerer, Der Staatsbankrott
aus völkerrechtlicher Sicht, 65 Zeitschrift für ausländisches öffentliches Recht und
Völkerrecht 651 (2005). For further references, see infra note 60.
3
 Ebenroth, The Changing Legal Framework for Resolving the Debt Crisis:
A European’s Perspective, 23 The International Lawyer 629 (1989); Ebke, Der
Internationale Währungsfonds und das internationale Devisenrecht, 37 Recht der
Internationale Wirtschaft 1 (1991).
state debt crisis, private creditors, and the imf agreement 19

Agreement plays a central role.4 The provision deals with the question
whether and, if so, to what extent a Member State of the IMF is to give
effect to exchange controls maintained or imposed by other Member
States.5 Article VIII, section 2(b) is applicable not only to disputes
between states and private creditors but also to controversies between
private parties whose legal relationship is affected by exchange controls
imposed by an IMF Member State.
The primary objective of this essay is to suggest that Article VIII,
section 2(b) of the IMF Articles of Agreement is not only entrusted
with the maintenance of the existing and future systems of exchange
restrictions carrying the Fund’s endorsement and with preserving the
smooth functioning of these systems by means of mutual recognition
of the restrictions, but that the IMF Articles of Agreement in general
and Article VIII, section 2(b) in particular can also be used to encour-
age and stimulate progressive developments within the Fund and in the
relations between the IMF Members and non-Members towards ever
closer international monetary cooperation and collaboration.6 While
Article VIII, section 2(b) as a principally transaction-related provision

4
The first sentence of Article VIII, section 2(b) of the IMF Articles of Agreement
provides:
“(b) Exchange contracts which involve the currency of any member and which are
contrary to the exchange control regulations of that member maintained or imposed
consistently with this Agreement shall be unenforceable in the territories of any
member.”
Article VIII, section 2(b) remained unchanged in the course of the Fund Agreement’s
amendments in 1969, 1978, 1992 and 2009.
5
For details of Article VIII, section 2(b) in English see, e.g., Edwards, International
Monetary Collaboration, at 477–490 (1985); Gold, The Fund Agreement in the Courts,
Vol. 1 (1962); Vol. 2 (1982); Vol. 3 (1986); Lowenfeld, The International Monetary
System, at 322–404 (1984); Mann, The Legal Aspect of Money, at 364–396 (5th ed.
1992). See also Ebke, Internationales Devisenrecht, at 158–311 (1990); Gianviti, Le
contrôle des changes étranger devant le juge national, Part 1, 62 Revue critique de droit
international privé 471 (1973); Part 2, 62 Rev.crit.d.i.p. 629 (1973); Huguenin,
L’application du contrôle des changes étranger par le juge national. Etude comparé de
l’article VIII (2) (b) des Statuts du F.M.I., de la théorie américaine de l’Act of State et de
la loi suisse de droit international privé, en particulier les articles 13 et 19 LDIP (2000);
Klein, De l’application de l’Article VIII (2)(b) des Statuts du Fonds Monétaire
International en Suisse, in: Études de droit international en l’honneur de Pierre Lalive,
at 261 (1993); Marty, Ausländische Devisenkontrollregulierungen gemäss Art. VIII
Abschn. 2 lit. b IWF-Abkommen und die “unenforceability” der Verträge nach sch-
weizerischem Recht (2009).
6
See generally Carreau, Souveraineté et coopération monétaire internationale
(1970); James, International Monetary Cooperation Since Bretton Woods (1996);
Tchakarov, The Gains from International Monetary Cooperation Revisited (2004)
(IMF Working Paper).
20 werner f. ebke

may not ultimately transform the institutional objectives of the IMF,

it may well be able judicially to create a normative atmosphere within
which an acceptance of the objectives of the IMF can grow. It was the
perception of the drafters of the Bretton Woods Agreement in 1944
that only global thinking and planning well ahead into the future can
achieve a perspective on international monetary problems and pros-
pects. The same unconstrained reformist thinking is also needed within
the courts and administrative agencies of the 187 IMF Member States
to revitalize the idea of international monetary cooperation and col-
laboration in connection with private international business and
finance transactions.

C. The Rise of Article VIII, Section 2(b) of the IMF

Articles of Agreement

The rise of Article VIII, section 2(b) of the IMF Articles of Agreement
is an unparalleled phenomenon in international law. The history of
international law reveals no other provision that has had such an
impact upon private parties and states alike. In some sixty-five years,
the provision has carried along with it academics who were once dis-
missive and judges who once rejected, misconstrued or overlooked it.
Article VIII, section 2(b) is no longer a conflict solution device associ-
ated solely with the capital exporting countries of the Western
Hemisphere.7 Instead, countries on every Continent including devel-
oping and capital importing countries are now subject to Article VIII,
section 2(b), and many of them implement the provision judicially and
administratively, though with substantial variation. There are numer-
ous court decisions reviewing Article VIII, section 2(b), and many
publications that analyse the provision and the case law interpreting
and applying it. More and more frequently, arbitration tribunals, too,

7
 In the European Union, Article VIII, section 2(b) applies only to exchange con-
trols of non-EU countries (accord Cranshaw, Fragen der gerichtlichen Durchsetzung
von Forderungen aus ausländischen Staatsanleihen in der Krise des Schuldners, 17
Deutsche Zeitschrift für Wirtschafts- und Insolvenzrecht 133, at 138 (2007)) because
pursuant to Articles 63 to 66 of the Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union,
all restrictions on the movement of capital and payments between EU Member States
and between EU Member States and non-EU countries are, as a general rule, prohib-
ited. For details see Ebke, in: Staudinger, BGB, Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO), at 2–3
(14th ed. 2011); Kemmerer, Kapitalverkehrsfreiheit und Drittstaaten (2010); Scharf,
Die Kapitalverkehrsfreiheit gegenüber Drittstaaten (2008).
state debt crisis, private creditors, and the imf agreement 21

take Article VIII, section 2(b) into consideration.8 Most importantly,

the Restatement (Third) of the Foreign Relations Law of the United
States of 1988 included a provision on the enforcement of foreign
exchange controls which paraphrases Article VIII, section 2(b).9 As has
been correctly pointed out, this was a significant development at a time
when exchange controls were revived by numerous countries as part of
the effort to alleviate the burden of external debt.10
When we deal with Article VIII, section 2(b), we deal with a judicial
oak that has grown from little more than a legislative acorn. Neither
the drafters of the IMF Articles of Agreement in 1944 nor the legisla-
tures of the IMF Member States when giving effect under their
national law to Article VIII, section 2(b), foresaw, I suppose, the pre-
sent state of the law with respect to Article VIII, section 2(b). During
the past sixty-five years, we have witnessed a rapid increase in actions
in which Article VIII, section 2(b) has been invoked by debtors.11
Infrequent in the 1950s, such actions have ripened into a complex
body of law. During the Latin American debt crisis in the 1980s,
Article VIII, section 2(b) gained rapid attention.12 Many of the court
decisions handed down in the 1980s profoundly shaped the scope of

8
See, e.g., Arbitration Award of March 23, 1981, ad hoc Arbitration Tribunal, 131
Journal des Tribunaux 727, at 729 (1983). See also Lew, Applicable Law in International
Arbitration: A Study in Commercial Arbitration Awards, at 405–409 (1978); Gold,
The Iran-United States Claims Tribunal and the Articles of Agreement of the
International Monetary Fund, 18 George Washington Journal of International Law &
Economics 537 (1985). For a thorough analysis of the arbitrability of Article VIII,
section 2(b), see Sandrock, Are Disputes Over the Application of Article VIII, Section
2(b) of the IMF Treaty Arbitrable?, 23 Int’l Law. 933 (1989); Sandrock, Is International
Arbitration Inept to Solve Disputes Arising out of International Loan Agreements?,
11 Journal of International Arbitration 33 (1994). For a discussion of the general role
of overriding mandatory rules (Eingriffsnormen) in international arbitration see,
e.g., Beulker, Die Eingriffsnormenproblematik in internationalen Schiedsverfahren
(2005); Bermann / Mistelis (eds.), Mandatory Rules in International Arbitration
(2011).
9
See Restatement (Third) of the Foreign Relations Law of the United States § 822
(1988). For a critical analysis of § 822 of the Restatement see Gold, The Restatement of
the Foreign Relations Law of the United States (Third) and Monetary Law, in: Ebke /
Norton / Balch (eds.), Commentaries on the Restatement (Third) of the Foreign
Relations Law of the United States, 3 (1992).
10
Silkenat, The Restatement and International Monetary Law: The Practitioner’s
Perspective, 22 Int’l Law. 31, at 32 (1988).
11
 Ebke (note 5), at 171–177 & 191–202.
12
See, e.g., Gold, Algunos Efectos de los Articulos del Convenio Constitutivo
del Fondo Monetario Internacional en el Derecho Internacional Privado, 14 Jurídica
295 (1982); Fuchs, Lateinamerikanische Devisenkontrollen in der internationalen
Schuldenkrise und Art VIII Abschn 2 b) IWF-Abkommen (1995).
22 werner f. ebke

the provision. This is particularly true for American and English court
decisions.13
Article VIII, section 2(b) must, no doubt, rate as a powerful instru-
ment in the hands of courts and administrative agencies of the IMF
Member States,14 designed to foster, within the IMF,15 the institutional
objectives of international monetary cooperation and collaboration at
each stage of international business and finance transactions. Without
belittling the role of the judiciary, it is fair to say that legal scholars have
contributed greatly to the extraordinary development of the law on
Article VIII, section 2(b).16 The emerging theories of the enforcement
of exchange controls under Article VIII, section 2(b) demonstrate how
persuasive and influential legal scholars can be in the intellectual
upheaval and further development of the law of the recognition of
exchange controls.17

D. The Raging Controversy: Macro Objectives versus

Micro Motives

Before the gap that exists between the institutional objectives of

the IMF and their implementation within the framework of private
international business and finance transactions is addressed, a closer

13
See, e.g., Lichtenstein, The Battle for International Bank Accounts: Restrictions
on International Payments for Political Ends and Article VIII of the Fund Agreement,
19 New York University Journal of International Law and Politics 981 (1987); Zamora,
Recognition of Foreign Exchange Controls in International Creditors’ Rights Cases:
The State of the Art, 21 Int’l Law. 1055 (1987); Bogdanowicz-Bindert, The Debt Crisis:
The Case of the Small and Medium Size Debtors, 17 N.Y.U. J. Int’l L. & Pol. 527 (1985);
Ebke (note 5), at 206–228.
14
 Article VIII, section 2(b) of the Fund Agreement is binding upon both courts and
administrative agencies of the IMF Member States. Unfortunately, however, our
knowledge of the practice of the Member States’ agencies in relation to Article VIII,
section 2(b) is rather limited, partly because of the lack of public reports of the agencies
with respect to the enforcement of exchange restrictions. For this reason, the essay
analyses only the practice of the courts of the IMF Member States.
15
 Article VIII, section 2(b) does not apply in relations between IMF Member States
and non-members. See Delaume, Law and Practice of Transnational Contracts, at 72
(1988); Ebke (note 5), at 258 & 312.
16
For details see Ebke, Das Internationale Devisenrecht im Spannungsfeld völker-
rechtlicher Vorgaben, nationaler Interessen und parteiautonomer Gestaltungsfreiheit,
100 Zeitschrift für Vergleichende Rechtswissenschaft 365, at 367–368 (2001).
17
For the role of the writings of Sir Joseph Gold, the IMF’s General Counsel (1960–
1979), see Ebke, Sir Joseph Gold and the International Law of Exchange Controls,
35 Int’l Law. 1475 (2001); Zamora, Sir Joseph Gold and the Development of
International Monetary Law, 23 Int’l Law. 1009 (1989).
state debt crisis, private creditors, and the imf agreement 23

look at Article VIII, section 2(b) of the IMF Articles of Agreement and
the legal environment within which it operates may be helpful.

I. The Revolution in the Conflict of Laws

Article VIII, section 2(b), of the Fund Agreement is a truly revolution-
ary provision. It constitutes a radical departure from the traditional
(i.e., pre-Bretton Woods) views of the courts of most countries, namely
that exchange control regulations, like tax and penal laws, are entitled
to recognition only in the territory of the state that promulgated them
(the so-called “revenue rule”).18 Under Article VIII, section 2(b), by
contrast, a court of an IFM Member State may not disregard another
Fund Member’s exchange controls even if an “exchange contract” is, by
its terms or by virtue of the conflict-of-laws rules of the forum, not
subject to the laws of the Member State maintaining or imposing the
exchange controls in question.19 Furthermore, a Fund Member may
not, as a general rule,20 refuse to enforce another Member’s exchange
controls on the ground that recognition and enforcement of them
would be contrary to the public policy (ordre public) of the forum.
Also, enforcement of another IMF Member State’s exchange controls

18
The pre-Bretton Woods common law rule, never precisely analysed but quite
regularly followed, was derived from Lord Mansfield’s famous dictum in Holman v.
Johnson, 1 Cowp. 341, 58 ER 1120 (1775). For the modern view see, e.g., Briggs, The
Revenue Rule in the Conflict of Laws: Time for a Makeover, Singapore Journal of
Legal Studies 280 (2001); Mallinak, The Revenue Rule: A Common Law Doctrine
for the Twenty-First Century, 16 Duke Journal of Comparative and International Law
79 (2006).
19
See Ebke, Article VIII, Section 2(b), International Monetary Cooperation, and
the Courts, 23 Int’l Law. 677, at 683 (1989), referring to the Decision of the Executive
Board of the IMF of June 10, 1949.
20
 An exception to the general rule should be recognized if, but only if, an exchange
control regulation carrying the Fund’s endorsement is applied, by the Member State
that has maintained or imposed it consistently with the IMF Articles of Agreement,
in a manner which aims to discriminate, or in effect discriminates, against individuals
or groups of people on the ground of race, colour, creed, religion, nationality or age.
An exception may also apply if the exchange control regulation in question constitutes
a confiscation without fair and just compensation. For a more detailed exposition of
this highly controversial issue see Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) para. 14;
Seidl-Hohenveldern, Article VIII, Section 2(b) of the IMF Articles of Agreement and
Public Policy, in: Festschrift in Honor of Sir Joseph Gold, 379 (1990). The case of
J. Zeevi & Sons v. Grindlays Bank (Uganda) Ltd., 37 N.Y.2d, 371 N.Y.S.2d 892, 333
N.E.2d 168 (1975), cert. denied, 423 U.S. 866 (1975), is an unfortunate example of the
proposition that courts of many IMF Member States tend to resort too easily and pre-
maturely to public policy (ordre public) to cope with foreign exchange controls that are
discriminatory or confiscatory in nature. For details see Ebke (note 5), at 184.
24 werner f. ebke

does not depend upon whether that State is diplomatically recognized

by the forum state.21 Last but not least, Article VIII, section 2(b) binds
all Member States of the IMF, whether or not they are availing them-
selves of the transitional arrangements in accordance with article XIV,
section 2, of the IMF Articles of Agreement.22 Thus, even Members that
have notified the Fund that they are not yet prepared to undertake the
obligations set out in Article VIII, sections 2, 3 and 4 of the Fund
Agreement are bound by the obligations under Article VIII, section
2(b) of the Fund Agreement; provided, of course, all of the numerous
prerequisites to the provision are met.23 Where Article VIII, section
2(b) applies, it preempts other statutory or judicially created rules of
choice of law under national law.24
Article VIII, section 2(b) reflects the international acceptance of the
significance of the macro objectives that the IMF is intended to foster.
As set out in Article I of the IMF Articles of Agreement, the Fund aims
to promote international monetary cooperation, to facilitate the expan-
sion and balanced growth of international trade, stability and equity in
the exchanges, the convertibility of currencies, the availability of
resources to give members the opportunity to correct imbalances in
their balances of payments, and to shorten the duration and lessening
the degree of disequilibrium in balances of payments. Additionally,
Article IV, section 1 recognizes that it is an essential purpose of the
international monetary system “to provide a framework that facilitates
the exchange of goods, services, and capital among countries, and that
sustains sound economic growth”. It also recognizes as a principal
objective of the IMF the “continuing development of the orderly under-
lying conditions that are necessary for financial and economic stabil-
ity”. While the various purposes stated in Article I and Article IV, sec-
tion 1 are to a considerable extent interdependent and overlapping and,
in some cases, conflict with each other, a principled and considered

21
 Ebke (note 5), at 159.
22
 Ebke (note 19), 23 Int’l Law. 677, at 684 (1989). For details of the “transitional
arrangements” see Siegel, Legal Aspects of the IMF/WTO Relationship: The Fund’s
Articles of Agreement and the WTO Agreements, 96 American Journal of International
Law 561, at 565 (2002); Simmons, The Legalization of International Monetary Affairs,
54 International Organization 573 (2000).
23
The most important elements are “exchange contracts”, “which involve the
currency of any member”, “exchange control regulations”, “maintained or imposed
consistently with this Agreement”, “which are contrary to” and “unenforceable”.
The most recent comparative analysis of these elements can be found in Ebke (note 7),
Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) paras. 23–80.
24
 Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) para. 1.
state debt crisis, private creditors, and the imf agreement 25

evaluation of each of them at the various stages of governmental, judi-

cial, or administrative action or inaction will eventually contribute to
the attainment of those purposes.

II. The Key Element: “Exchange Contracts”

Despite their general acceptance of the need for international mone-
tary cooperation and collaboration and their general support of the
Fund’s macro objectives, the Member States of the IMF are apt to be
deflected by national interests. The events preceding and immediately
following the “closing of the gold window” in 197125 are classic exam-
ples in support of this proposition.26 The deflection is not, however,
confined to the institutional level of international monetary coopera-
tion and collaboration. At the transactional level, too, the courts of the
IMF Member States occasionally have not been sympathetic to the
macro objectives when, at least for a certain period of time, they should
have taken precedence over micro interests of the forum. While they
seem to realize that the objectives of international monetary coopera-
tion and collaboration may require, at least temporarily, the enforce-
ment of exchange restrictions that have been approved by the Fund or
are authorized under the IMF Articles of Agreement, national selfish-
ness and special interests, such as the desire to strengthen their domes-
tic financial markets and to protect local creditors against exchange
controls of other IMF Member States, can become so dominant as to
lead courts of the IMF Member States to take a rather restrictive view
with respect to Article VIII, section 2(b).27 The highly controversial
debate over the proper interpretation of the term “exchange contracts”,
a key element of Article VIII, section 2(b) of the Fund Agreement, viv-
idly illustrates this point.28

25
See, e.g., Gold, Strengthening the Soft International Law of Exchange
Arrangements, 77 Am. J. Int’l L. 443, at 447–450 (1983).
26
See generally, Gold, The Legal Structure of the Par Value System, 5 Law and Policy
in International Business 155 (1973); Gold, Unauthorized Changes of Par Value and
Fluctuating Exchange Rates in the Bretton Woods System, 65 Am. J. Int’l L. 113 (1971).
27
See Zamora (note 13), 21 Int’l Law. 1055, at 1065 (1987). In reviewing U.S. cases
that have favoured a narrow interpretation of the phrase “exchange contracts”, Professor
Zamora concludes that “[t]his creditor-oriented view may be seen to strengthen U.S.
financial markets, but it does not necessarily accord with the goal of international
monetary cooperation that the Fund Agreement was intended to foster.”
28
For a thorough historical and comparative analysis of the debate concerning the
“narrow” versus the “broad” interpretation of the term “exchange contracts” see Ebke
(note 5), at 203–246.
26 werner f. ebke

Although Judge Meyer, in his dissenting opinion in Western Banking

Corp. v. Turkiye Garanti Bankasi,29 is sympathetic to a broad interpreta-
tion of the phrase “exchange contract”, which would include interna-
tional lending transactions, no court in the United States of America
has adopted such a view. It is well settled today in United States case
law that the phrase “exchange contracts” is to be construed narrowly.
Thus, for example, insurance contracts,30 contracts for the sale of
goods,31 letters of credit32 and international loan agreements and other
lending transactions33 are seen not to fall within the ambit of Article
VIII, section 2(b). English courts, too, have argued strongly in favour
of a narrow, creditor-oriented construction of Article VIII, section
2(b).34 As a result, in most international business and finance transac-
tions, including international lending cases, exchange controls of IMF
Member States cannot expect the protection in the United States or
England that Article VIII, section 2(b) arguably was intended to grant
even if the controls carry the Fund’s endorsement.35 If it is determined

29
Weston Banking Corp. v. Turkiye Garanti Bankasi, 442 N.E.2d 1195, 1204
(N.Y. 1982) (Meyer, J., dissenting).
30
See, e.g., Theye y Ajuria v. Pan American Life Insurance Co., 245 La. 755, 161 So.2d
70, cert. denied, 377 U.S. 997, reh’g denied, 379 U.S. 872 (1964); Pan American Life
Insurance Co. v. Raij, 156 So.2d 785 (Fla.Dist.Ct.App. 1963), cert. denied, 379 U.S. 920
(1964).
31
John Sanderson & Co. (Wool) Pty. Ltd. v. Ludlow Jute Co. Ltd., 569 F.2d 696, 699
(1st Cir. 1978).
32
J. Zeevi & Sons, Ltd. v. Grindlays Bank (Uganda) Ltd., 37 N.Y.2d 220, 229, 371
N.Y.S.2d 892, 900, 333 N.E.2d 174 (1975), cert. denied, 423 U.S. 866 (1975).
33
Libra Bank Ltd. v. Banco Nacional de Costa Rica, 570 F.Supp. 870, 900 (S.D.N.Y.
1983) (Chief Justice Motley held that “a contract to borrow US currency, which requires
repayment in US currency, and which designates New York as the situs of repayment,
is not an exchange contract within the meaning of Article VIII, Section 2(b)”.). See also
Allied Bank International v. Banco Credito Agricola de Cartago, 566 F.Supp. 1440
(S.D.N.Y. 1983), aff ’d, 733 F.2d 23 (2d Cir. 1984) (withdrawn), vacated, 757 F.2d 516
(2d Cir. 1984), cert. dism’d, 106 S.Ct. 30 (1985), 473 U.S. 934 (1986).
34
See infra text accompanying notes 49–52. For a more detailed exposition of this
view see Ebke (note 5), at 206–213 (with a list of further references).
35
For a critical comment see Lowenfeld, International Economic Law, at 668 (2003)
(“The better view, favored by F.A. Mann, Sir Joseph Gold, and the staff of the IMF, is
that an exchange contract for purposes of Article VIII(2)(b) is any contract that affects
the exchange resources of the country imposing the exchange controls, including a
contract for the purchase of goods, charter of a ship, payment of a commission, and
deposit of funds.”). Cf. Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) paras. 28–37. The
narrow construction of the term “exchange contracts”, especially the exclusion of
international lending transactions from the scope of Article VIII, section 2(b), made
New York law an attractive choice of law for international lending transactions.
To facilitate the process, the New York legislature in 1984 enacted a law that permits
parties to substantial commercial contracts, including loans and other lending transac-
tions, to stipulate the application of New York’s substantive law to the parties’ rights
state debt crisis, private creditors, and the imf agreement 27

that a transaction is not an “exchange contract” within the meaning of

Article VIII, section 2(b), a court will normally proceed in accordance
with the traditional choice-of-law rules of the forum. These rules were
typically developed before international monetary cooperation and
collaboration became a fundamental principle of international law
and, consequently, are generally less favourable than Article VIII, sec-
tion 2(b) to foreign exchange controls and more favourable towards
national creditors and other interests of the forum.36
The courts of the Federal Republic of Germany, by contrast, have
traditionally been more receptive to defences based upon Article VIII,
section 2(b). The vast majority of the more than thirty cases under
Article VIII, section 2(b) reported in Germany since 1952, when
Germany became a member of the IMF, favour a broad debtor-oriented
interpretation and application of Article VIII, section 2(b), especially
of its key element “exchange contract”.37 As early as 1954, the Court of
Appeal (Oberlandesgericht) of the State of Schleswig-Holstein stated
that only a broad construction of the phrase “exchange contracts” is
consistent with the objectives of the IMF Articles of Agreement.38 The
Court of Appeal (Kammergericht) of Berlin, too, made it clear that only
a broad reading of Article VIII, section 2(b) “takes adequate account of
the economic rationale of the Fund Agreement”.39
In 1993, however, the German Supreme Court (Bundesgerichtshof)
followed the view expressed by the courts of other major capital export-
ing countries, such as the United States and the United Kingdom.
In its Bulgaria decision, the Court held that Article VIII, section 2(b) of
the Fund Agreement applies only to payments for current transac-
tions but not to international capital transfers.40 Thereby the Court

and duties, the parties’ submission to the jurisdiction of New York courts, and the
entertainment of the case by the New York courts whether or not the forum non con-
veniens doctrine might, without this legislation, dismiss the action. See Ebke (note 19),
23 Int’l Law. 677, at 690 (1989).
36
 Ebke (note 16), 100 ZVglRWiss 365, at 379 (2001); Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu
Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) para. 23. See also Marty (note 5), at 56 (arguing that a narrow
construction of the words “exchange contracts” would increase the “flexibility”
[Bewegungsfreiheit] of the Swiss courts).
37
For details see Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) paras. 28–35 (with a
complete list of references).
38
 OLG Schleswig-Holstein, Die deutsche Rechtsprechung auf dem Gebiete des
Internationalen Privatrechts 463, at 465 (1954–1955).
39
KG, IPRspr 364, at 366 (1974).
40
 BGH, 40 RIW 151 (1994). For a discussion of this case see Ebke, Article VIII,
Section 2(b) of the IMF Articles of Agreement and International Capital Transfers:
Perspectives from the German Supreme Court, 28 Int’l Law. 761 (1994); Ebke,
28 werner f. ebke

remedied what many commentators had regarded as a comparative

disadvantage of creditors in Germany.41 A few months later, another
Panel (Zivilsenat) of the German Supreme Court expressly confirmed
the view, holding that Article VIII, section 2(b) does not apply to
restrictions on the transfer of capital as opposed to current interna-
tional payments.42 As a result, Article VIII, section 2(b) will be applied
by German courts only to current international payments, but not to
international capital transfers, including substantial international
lending transactions.43
It is difficult to draw an exact line between current international pay-
ments and capital transfers. The starting point is Article XXX(d) of the
IMF Articles of Agreement. This provision lists certain transactions
that qualify as current international payments. Article XXX(d) reads as
follows:

Kapitalverkehrskontrollen und das Internationale Privatrecht nach der Bulgarien-

Entscheidung des Bundesgerichtshofs, 48 Zeitschrift für Wirtschafts- und Bankenrecht
1357 (1994).
41
See, e.g., von Bar / Mankowski, Internationales Privatrecht, at 282 (2nd ed.
2003) (“letztlich … retaliative, vergeltende Reaktion auf die [anglo-amerikanische
Rechtsprechung], um Wettbewerbsnachteile deutscher Unternehmen zu beseitigen”).
42
 BGH, 40 RIW 327 (1994). Three years later, the Panel expressly confirmed its
holding in BGH, 43 RIW 426 (1997). Cf. Article VI, section 3 of the IMF Agreement
which recognizes that “[m]embers may exercise such controls as are necessary to
regulate international capital movements”. This exclusion reflects the view–prevalent
when the Fund was established–that speculative capital movements had contributed
to the instability of the pre-war system and that extensive capital controls would be
in place for the foreseeable future, with the future growth in the global economy
being driven by trade flows. See Ebke (note 5), at 90–91. Since that time, however,
international capital movements have come to play a critical role in the global econ-
omy, presenting IMF Member States with significant benefits–but also significant
risks. For a thorough discussion see Hagan, Enhancing the IMF’s Regulatory Authority,
13 J. Int’l Econ. L. 955, at 964–968 (2010); Lastra, The Role of the IMF as a Global
Financial Authority, 2 European Yearbook of International Economic Law 121 (2011).
It is important to note, however, that the right of the IMF Member States to regu-
late capital movements under Article VI, section 3 is subject to some limitations.
See, e.g., Article IV, section 1 of the IMF Agreement, which found its way into the
Fund Agreement in the course of its second amendment in 1978. For details see
Ebke (note 5), at 244–246 & 270–271; Hagan (supra), 13 J. Int’l Econ. L. 955, at 968
(2010).
43
See Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) para. 43 (with a list of further
references). Accord Lowenfeld (note 34), at 509 (arguing that it is “important to note
that the prohibition on exchange controls does not include controls on capital trans-
fers, and indeed Article VI (3) of the Articles of Agreement expressly provides that
‘Members may exercise such controls as are necessary to regulate international capital
movements’.”).
state debt crisis, private creditors, and the imf agreement 29

“Payments for current transactions means payments which are

not for the purpose of transferring capital, and includes, without
limitations:
(1) all payments due in connection with foreign trade, other current
business, including services, and normal short-term banking and
credit facilities;
(2) payments due as interest on loans and as net income from other
investments;
(3) payments of moderate amount for amortization of loans or for
depreciations of direct investments; and
(4) moderate remittances for family expenses.”
Accordingly, under Article XXX(d)(2)-(3) of the Fund Agreement,
payments of moderate amount for amortization of loans and payments
due as interest on loans qualify as current international payments and
are subject to Article VIII, section 2(b).44 Interest payments would
seem to be within the ambit of Article VIII, section 2(b) regardless of
whether the interest is due on “normal short-term bank and credit
facilities” or economically substantial, long-term loans.45 This follows
from the unambiguous language of Article XXX(d)(2) of the Fund
Agreement, according to which all payments due as interest on “loans”
qualify as “payments for current transactions” within the meaning of
Article XXX(d) of the IMF Articles of Agreement. However, it also fol-
lows from Article XXX(d)(1) of the Fund Agreement that economi-
cally substantial, long-term loans (as opposed to “normal short-term
bank and credit facilities”) and other lending transactions, including

44
 Accord Pfeiffer, Zahlungskrisen ausländischer Staaten im deutschen und interna-
tionalen Rechtsverkehr, 102 ZVglRWiss 141, at 178 (2003); Schefold, Moratorien aus-
ländischer Staaten und ausländisches Devisenrecht, 18 Praxis des Internationalen
Privat- und Verfahrensrechts 313, at 316 (2007); Ziegler, Russische Kapitalverkehrs-
und Kulturgüterschutzbestimmungen im deutschen Internationalen Privatrecht, at
190 (2006). For the opposite view see Szodruch (note 2), at 280 (arguing that “[d]ie
Aufspaltung von Zahlungen auf die Hauptforderung und Zinszahlungen erscheint
indes kaum gerechtfertigt und ergibt sich auch nicht zwingend aus dem Wortlaut von
Art XXX(d)(2) IWF-Übereinkommen”); a similar view has been expressed by Tietje
(note 2), at 11–12.
45
See Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) para. 31 (with a list of further refer-
ences); Baars / Böckel, Argentinische Auslandsanleihen vor deutschen und argentini­
schen Gerichten, 16 Zeitschrift für Bankrecht und Bankwirtschaft 445, at 456 (2004).
For the opposite view see OLG Frankfurt am Main, 59 Neue Juristische Wochenschrift
2931 (2006), aff ’g, LG Frankfurt am Main, 57 WM 783, at 785 (2003).
30 werner f. ebke

state bonds, do not fall within the ambit of Article VIII, section 2(b) of
the Fund Agreement.46
If one accepts this interpretation of Article XXX(d), it follows that
restrictions for example by a debtor state on interest payments and pay-
ments of moderate amounts for amortization of loans are enforceable
under Article VIII, section 2(b), if the restrictions in question are in
conformity with the IMF Articles of Agreement.47 Restrictions on pay-
ments for amortization that are not “moderate” within the meaning of
Article XXX(d)(3) of the Fund Agreement as well as restrictions on
economically substantial, long-term loans (as opposed to “normal
short-term bank and credit facilities”), by contrast, are not caught by
Article VIII, section 2(b), which opens the door for courts to resort to
the conflict-of-laws rules of the forum. Thus, the aforementioned con-
struction of Articles XXX(d) and VIII, section 2(b) of the Fund
Agreement leads to the application of different conflict-of-laws rules
and, consequently, potentially different results depending upon which
aspect (e.g., interest payments, payments for amortization, repayment
of the principal) of the international lending transaction is being
restricted by a debtor state.48

III. Possible Effects

Courts of IMF Member States that are not receptive to defences based
upon Article VIII, section 2(b) of the Fund Agreement apparently
assume that the economic, political, institutional and normative frame
of the international monetary system will prove to be durable enough
to cope with judicial decisions that may be seen to further private inter-
ests and give weight to micro motives of the forum, but do not neces-
sarily accord with the macro objectives of the Fund. Yet, no matter how
noble the motives of the judiciary may be, a court’s decision in a given

46
See OLG Frankfurt am Main, 59 NJW 2931 (2006). This view is generally recog-
nized today. See, e.g., Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) paras. 31 & 43 (with a
list of further references); Ziegler (note 44), at 185; Szodruch (note 2), at 279.
47
Thus, for example, the restrictions in question must have been imposed or main-
tained consistently with the Fund Agreement. See Baars / Böckel (note 45), 16 ZBB
445, at 456–457 (2004) (re Argentina state bonds). For details of the conformity issue
(Abkommenskonformität), see Ebke (note 5), at 264–275.
48
For critical comments on the effects of the interpretation mentioned above
see Seuss, Exterritoriale Geltung von Devisenkontrollen. Art VIII 2 b) S 1 des
Übereinkommens über den Internationalen Währungsfonds, at 38 (1991); Schefold,
in: Schimansky / Bunte / Lwowski (eds.), Bankrechts-Handbuch, Vol. III, at 1755
at para. 115 (3rd ed. 2007) (“anomaly”).
state debt crisis, private creditors, and the imf agreement 31

case affects not just the parties involved in that particular case. Rather,
when they decide cases in which the existence of exchange controls
carrying the Fund’s endorsement is raised as a defence, judges are con-
tributing to the formation of a jurisprudence that is likely to affect sim-
ilar cases in the future, not only in the jurisdiction in which the decision
was delivered but also in other Member States of the IMF.
English cases interpreting Article VIII, section 2(b) of the IMF
Articles of Agreement are probably the best example in support of this
point. In Wilson, Smithett & Cope Ltd. v. Terruzzi, Lord Denning, sit-
ting on the English Court of Appeal, endorsed the narrow interpreta-
tion of the term “exchange contracts”.49 His qualifying statement that
“monetary transactions in disguise” should be “caught by section 2(b)”
has not proved to be particularly helpful if viewed from the perspective
of debtors, the Fund, and IMF Member States that have felt it necessary
to impose exchange restrictions. Cases like United City Merchants
(Investments) Ltd. v. Royal Bank of Canada50 and Mansouri v. Singh51
demonstrate that the potential for public interest considerations which
is seemingly inherent in the concept of “monetary transactions in dis-
guise” has not been implemented by English courts with the macro
objectives of the Fund in mind. On the contrary, English courts, like
their American counterparts, have limited the scope of Article VIII,
section 2(b) “almost to the point at which the provision vanishes”.52
The judiciary places emphasis upon “technical” aspects (such as the
situs of the debt for purposes of the Act-of-State doctrine)53 and law-
yers prefer to try a case on the basis of familiar concepts and theories of
national law that take account of perceived interests of the forum and

49
[1976] Q.B. 683, 713–714; [1976] 2 W.L.R. 418, 424 (C.A.); [1976] 1 All E.R. 817,
822 (per Lord Denning) (“The words ‘exchange contracts’ in article VIII, section 2(b),
refer only to contracts to exchange the currency of one country for the currency of
another.”). For a critical review of this decision see Gold, “Exchange Contracts”,
Exchange Control, and the IMF Articles of Agreement: Some Animadversions on
Wilson, Smithett & Cope Ltd. v. Terruzzi, 33 International and Comparative Law
Quarterly 777 (1984).
50
[1982] 2 W.L.R. 1039; [1982] 2 All E.R. 720.
51
[1986] 2 All E.R. 619.
52
 Gold, Exchange Controls and External Indebtedness: Are the Bretton Woods
Concepts Still Workable?, 7 Houston Journal of International Law 1, at 11 (1984).
53
See, e.g., Reinisch, Sachverständigengutachten zur Frage des Bestehens und der
Wirkung des völkerrechtlichen Rechtfertigungsgrundes “Staatsnotstand”, 68 ZaöRV 3,
at 36 (2008) (“Diese sehr technische Frage der Belegenheit der Schuld als Voraussetzung
für die Anwendung der act-of-state-Doktrin [in den Rechtssachen Allied Bank
International und Libra Bank Ltd.] führte in anderen Fällen zu entgegengesetzten
Ergebnissen.”).
32 werner f. ebke

frequently appease local creditors, but may disregard the normative

goals and overriding economic or political ends of the international
monetary system. Allied Bank International v. Banco Credito Agricola
de Cartago54 and Libra Bank Ltd. v. Banco de Costa Rica55 are classic
examples to illustrate this point. In both cases, the defendants’ attor-
neys were more confident in advancing the Act-of-State doctrine, not-
withstanding the uncertainties surrounding it, than they were in
dealing with Article VIII, section 2(b) of the IMF Articles of
Agreement.56 In the end, however, the Act-of-State doctrine, like the
principles of sovereign immunity and comity (comitas), proved not to
be successful defences in these international lending cases.57 And the
trend continues.58 In a recent court decision, the United States District
Court for the Southern District of New York held that neither the Act-
of-State doctrine nor the principle of sovereign immunity can be relied
upon as a defence in a case involving the failure of the Republic of
Argentina to make payments on bonds held in another country.59
Article VIII, section 2(b) was not even mentioned in the decision.
Similarly, in a case involving state bonds issued by Argentina
and held by creditors in Germany, Germany’s Constitutional Court

54
566 F.Supp. 1440 (S.D.N.Y. 1983), aff ’d, 733 F.2d 23 (2d Cir. 1984) (withdrawn),
vacated, 757 F.2d 516 (2d Cir. 1984), cert. dism’d, 106 S.Ct. 30 (1985), 473 U.S. 934
(1986). For an excellent discussion of this case see Rendell, The Allied Bank Case and
Its Aftermath, 20 Int’l Law. 819 (1986); Zaitzeff / Kunz, The Act of State Doctrine and
the Allied Bank Case, 40 Business Lawyer 449 (1985).
55
676 F.2d 47 (2d Cir. 1982), on remand, 570 F.Supp. 870 (S.D.N.Y. 1983).
56
For details of the Act of State doctrine in international lending transactions
see, e.g., Ebenroth, Banking on the Act of State (1985); see also Ebke, Bestechung aus-
ländischer Amtsträger und Act of State Doctrine: Anmerkungen zur Kirkpatrick-
Entscheidung des United States Supreme Court, 11 IPRax 148 (1991).
57
See, e.g., Coyne, Allied Bank III and United States Treatment of Foreign Exchange
Controls: The Effect of the Act of State Doctrine, the Principles of Comity, and
Article VIII, Section 2(b) of the International Monetary Fund Agreement, 9 Boston
College International and Comparative Law Review 409 (1986); Ebenroth / Teitz,
Winning (or Losing) by Default: The Act of State Doctrine, Sovereign Immunity and
Comity in International Business Transactions, 19 Int’l Law. 225 (1985); Gold, Control
de Cambios: Acto de Estado Interés Público, los Articolos del Convenio con le Fondo
Monetario Internacional y Otras Complicaciones, 6 Revista del Tribunal Fiscal de la
Federación 1053 (1985).
58
See generally, Litvak, Why IMF Article VIII(2)(b) May Nullify the Enforceability
of Financing Contracts When Spiraling Oil Prices Prompt the Use of Exchange
Controls, 13 Fordham Journal of Corporate and Financial Law 805 (2008).
59
See, e.g., Lightwater Corporation Ltd. et al. v. The Republic of Argentina, 2003 U.S.
Dist. LEXIS 6156 (S.D.N.Y. 2003): “An act of a nation in failing to make payments on
bonds held in other countries does not constitute an act of state dealing with property
located within the nation. Thus, …, the act of state doctrine is not a defense to plain-
tiffs’ claims in this case”.
state debt crisis, private creditors, and the imf agreement 33

(Bundesverfassungsgericht) recently held that “presently” there is no

general principle of public international law that would permit a state
vis-à-vis private creditors unilaterally to refuse, due to its inability to
pay, insolvency or state of emergency (Staatsnotstand), to make pay-
ments on state bonds held in another country.60 As a result, under pub-
lic international law, restrictions on international lending transactions
that do not fall within the ambit of Article VIII, section 2(b) of the IMF
Articles of Agreement61 do not have to be enforced or given effect to,
even temporarily, by other states.62
In this situation, courts of IMF Member States will be tempted to
resort to public policy (ordre public) to block the enforcement of judg-
ments or arbitral awards that, because of their narrow creditor-oriented
construction of Article VIII, section 2(b), are considered by the juris-
diction in which enforcement is sought to be so offensive to its own
views as well as generally accepted principles of international monetary
cooperation and collaboration as to warrant a denial of recognition.
The unsuccessful attempts of the British plaintiff in Wilson, Smithett &
Cope Ltd. v. Terruzzi63 to enforce the English judgment against the
Italian defendant in Italy is the most prominent example in support of
this proposition.64 Yet, the procedural device of public policy (ordre
public) is not in and of itself strong enough to ensure compliance, on
the part of all IMF Member States, with the institutional objectives of
the Fund in the interpretation of Article VIII, section 2(b). In the

60
 BVerfG, BVerfGE 118, 124, 134. For a detailed analysis of this decision
see, e.g., Mayer, Staateninsolvenz nach dem Argentinien-Beschluss des
Bundesverfassungsgerichts – Eine Chance für den Finanzplatz Deutschland?, 62 WM
425 (2008); Tietje / Szodruch, Staatsnotstand bei Staateninsolvenz – Individualrechte
und Gemeinwohlbelange im transnationalen Wirtschaftsrecht, 19 ZBB 498 (2007);
see also Kleinlein, Rechtsfragen staatlicher Auslandsanleihen: Odious Debts,
Staatsnotstand und Immunität, 44 Archiv des Völkerrechts 405 (2006).
61
Whether or not Argentina’s moratorium falls within Article VIII, section 2(b) of
the IMF Articles of Agreement is hotly debated. See, e.g., Tietje / Szodruch (note 60),
19 ZBB 498, at 500 (2007) (“Das Zahlungsmoratorium ist in Deutschland nicht
als Devisenkontrakt über Art. VIII Abs. 2 Buchst. b des IWF-Übereinkommens
anwendbar”); Mayer (note 60), 62 WM 425, at 426 (2008) (“Auf Art. VIII Abschnitt
2(b) IWF-Abkommen kann sich der Schuldnerstaat nicht berufen”); for the opposite
view see Pfeiffer (note 44), 102 ZVglRWiss 141, at 178 (2003). For the background see
Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) para. 43.
62
See, e.g., LG Frankfurt am Main, 57 WM 783, at 785 (2003) (re Argentina state
bonds), aff ’d, OLG Frankfurt am Main, 59 NJW 2931 (2006).
63
[1975] 2 All E.R. 649; [1976] 1 All E.R. 817; [1976] 1 Q.B. 683; [1976] 1 Q.B. 703
(C.A.).
64
See Corte cass., 22 Rivista di diritto internazionale privato e processuale 148
(1986).
34 werner f. ebke

famous words of Justice Benjamin Nathan Cardozo, public policy is an

“unruly horse”. In the cases under discussion here, its success will
depend almost entirely upon the location (situs) of the property of the
unsuccessful defendant. If the defendant’s property is located, at least
in part, in the state in which the judgment or the arbitral award was
delivered, public policy is a blunt knife.
Regardless of how one looks at the responsibility of the judiciary and
the perspectives of international monetary cooperation and collabora-
tion, interpretations of Article VIII, section 2(b) of the Fund Agreement
that do not accord with the Fund’s overall objectives or, in the words of
Sir Joseph Gold, the “economic rationale” of the Articles of Agreement65
may impair the stability of the international monetary system and
lessen not only the confidence in the judicial system of the country
delivering the judgment, but also respect for the IMF itself. Those who
advocate international monetary cooperation and collaboration and a
public-interest approach to Article VIII, section 2(b) as well as those
who favour a system which stresses national sovereignty and the resort-
ing to traditional, more creditor-oriented conflict-of-laws rules will
agree that a gradual loss of confidence and respect will ultimately do
more harm than good to monetary cooperation and collaboration.
International cooperation and collaboration in monetary matters con-
stitute one of the pillars of the post-World War II international mone-
tary system.
Needless to say, the uniform interpretation and application of Article
VIII, section 2(b) in the IMF Member States is virtually impossible,
given the numerous textual and contextual difficulties inherent in
Article VIII, section 2(b), the multifarious differences between the sub-
stantive and procedural laws of the IMF Member States, and the need
to transform the elements of the provision into the law of the Member
State to give legal effect to Article VIII, section 2(b).66 Thus, the goal of
Article VIII, section 2(b) cannot be uniformity, but functional equiva-
lence on the basis and in light of the macro objectives of the IMF
Articles of Agreement as set out in its Articles I and IV, section 1.
It may be easier to reach a mutual understanding of what may be
necessary to achieve the desirable degree of functional equivalence at a

65
See Ebke (note 17), 35 Int’l Law. 1475, at 1482 (2001).
 Ebke (note 16), 100 ZVglRWiss 365, at 379–380 (2001). See also, OLG Frankfurt
66

am Main, IPRspr Nr 116a, 358, at 361 (1971) (“Übertragung und Anpassung an die
innerstaatlichen Rechtsbegriffe der jeweiligen Vertragsstaaten”).
state debt crisis, private creditors, and the imf agreement 35

time when Article VIII, section 2(b) of the IMF Articles of Agreement
is not needed so much in practice to solve actual problems, such as an
international state debt crisis. As is well known, hard cases make bad
law. It has been correctly observed that, in the 1980s, the narrow inter-
pretation of the key elements of Article VIII, section 2(b) such as
“exchange contracts” could not be dissociated from the then existing
problem of international indebtedness, especially in Latin America but
also in other parts of the world.67 When the international debt crisis
was solved in the 1990s, the number of cases involving Article VIII,
section 2(b) decreased dramatically. Thus, judges, legislatures, and
commentators did not feel the need to revisit the meaning, scope and
objectives of the provision. Yet, the current international state debt cri-
sis could soon give rise to a new line of cases involving issues of Article
VIII, section 2(b).68 Recent decisions concerning Argentina’s default on
some of its state bonds held by creditors in the United States69 and
Germany70 may foreshadow what may come in the not too distant
future. Thus, the question remains: “2(b) or not 2(b)”–Article VIII,
section 2(b) that is.

E. “2(b) or not 2(b)”: That is the Question

The tension that exists between the need to implement the objectives of
the IMF and the temptation of the Member States’ courts to give weight
to the micro motives of the forum is rooted in the two-tier concept of
international monetary cooperation and collaboration as created by
the IMF Articles of Agreement. From the outset, the Articles of
Agreement left it to the courts and administrative agencies of the IMF
Member States to give effect to the fundamental objectives of the Fund
in the context of private international business and finance transac-
tions. Conceptually, the courts and administrative agencies of the
Member States have a de facto monopoly of ensuring implementation

67
 Gold, The Fund Agreement in the Courts: Some Problems of the Uniform
Interpretation of Multilateral Treaties, at 31 (1989).
68
For the applicability of Article VIII, section 2(b) of the Fund Agreement in the
European Union see supra note 7.
69
See supra note 59.
70
See supra notes 60 & 62. For details, see Baars / Böckel (note 45); Mayer (note 60);
Kolling, Aktuelle Entwicklungen in Sachen “Argentinien-Anleihen-Klagen deutscher
Gläubiger”, 7 Zeitschrift für Bank- und Kapitalmarktrecht 481 (2007); Tietje (note 2),
passim.
36 werner f. ebke

of the Fund’s institutional objectives at the transactional level of inter-

national business and finance. In this regard, the Member States are the
sole guardians of the IMF Articles of Agreement. The fact that Article
VIII, section 2(b) is not directly applicable71 is consistent with the con-
cept stated. By requiring the Member States to take the necessary steps
to carry out or give effect, under their national law, to the Fund
Agreement, the IMF Articles of Agreement underscore the special
responsibility that Member States and their courts have assumed
regarding the implementation of the macro objectives of the Fund in
connection with the enforcement of exchange restrictions.
To enable the courts to fulfill their difficult task, the Executive Board
of the IMF has made it clear that it will lend its assistance regarding the
interpretation of Article VIII, section 2(b) and that it is “prepared to
advise whether particular exchange control regulations are maintained
or imposed consistently with the Fund Agreement”.72 In addition,
Article XXIX of the IMF Articles of Agreement confers upon the
Executive Board the power to issue interpretations of the IMF Articles
of Agreement.73 Yet, the Board has been extremely reluctant to use its
interpretative power. This fact should come as no surprise to those who
are familiar with the nature, scope, and requirements of interpretations
within the meaning of Article XXIX of the IMF Articles of Agreement.
The promulgation of an interpretation is a political step to which the
Fund seems to resort only cautiously and in special cases. Also, one
should not forget that the Executive Board’s decisions are not consid-
ered to be binding upon the courts of the IMF Member States, but are
viewed by most courts as “persuasive” authority only.74 As a result,
there is no assurance that the Board’s views will ultimately be given
effect to by the judiciaries of the Member States.
Unfortunately, Article VIII, section 2(b) itself does not facilitate the
desirable movement toward uniformity on the basis of the Fund’s
macro objectives.75 The language of the IMF Articles of Agreement in
general and of Article VIII, section 2(b) in particular has contributed

71
For a more detailed exposition of this view see Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9
(Rom-I VO) para. 18.
72
Cf. Ebke (note 19), 23 Int’l Law. 677, at 696 (1989).
73
For details see Edwards (note 5), at 37–39.
74
See, e.g., Callejo v. Bancomer, 764 F.2d 1101, 1119 n. 26 (5th Cir. 1985); Braka v.
Bancomer, 589 F.Supp. 1465, 1473 (S.D.N.Y. 1984). For details see, e.g., Ebke (note 5),
at 203; Lowenfeld (note 34), at 670.
75
See Ebke (note 17), 35 Int’l Law. 1475, at 1486–1487 (2001).
state debt crisis, private creditors, and the imf agreement 37

much to the disparity of interpretations.76 Thus, for example, the phrase

“exchange contract” is not a term of art, either in the common law tra-
dition or in the civil law world. Like other similarly broad terms of
multilateral treaty law, the words “exchange contract” derive their con-
tours in and through the judicial processes of the IMF Member States.
The search by the courts of the IMF Member States for the “true” mean-
ing of the term “exchange contracts” is complicated by the fact that
English is the only authentic language of the Fund Agreement.77
Accordingly, a comparison of various versions of the Articles of
Agreement, which is a commonly accepted method of interpretation of
multilateral treaties, is not available.78 In addition, the meaning of the
various elements of Article VIII, section 2(b) does not become clearer
in light of the history of the provision, because the historical back-
ground of Article VIII, section 2(b) is not well documented.79 In their
endeavour to shape the law with respect to Article VIII, section 2(b),
courts of the IMF Member States should, therefore, interpret the provi-
sion “autonomously” (autonome Auslegung) on the basis of the authen-
tic English text and by means of the comparative law method, taking
the objectives of the provision into consideration.80
While this proposition is theoretically sound, it is difficult to imple-
ment in practice, as is illustrated by the term “unenforceable” in Article
VIII, section 2(b).81 Thus, for example, German courts, after trial and
error, had come to the conclusion that the phrase “unenforceable” is
best effectuated under German law if viewed as a “pre-condition to
suit” (Sachentscheidungsvoraussetzung), rather than a defence
(e.g., voidability).82 As a result, the plaintiff has the burden of proving
that the exchange restrictions invoked by the defendant are inconsist-
ent with the IMF Articles of Agreement or that Article VIII, section

76
 Ebke (note 19), 23 Int’l Law. 677, at 698–703 (1989); Ebke (note 16), 100
ZVglRWiss 365, at 379–380 (2001).
77
 Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) para. 7.
78
Cf. Ebke (note 19), 23 Int’l Law. 677, at 699 (1989).
79
See Gold (note 5), Vol. 2, at 429–438.
80
 Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) para. 20.
81
See, e.g., Drakidis, Du caractère “non exécutoire” de certains “contrats du change”
d’après les Statuts du Fonds Monétaire International, 59 Rev.crit.d.i.p. 363 (1970).
82
 Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) paras. 49–51. As early as in 1986,
Sir Joseph Gold (The Fund Agreement in the Courts, Vol. III (note 5), p. 268) noted
that “[t]he negation of the right to sue is not the true equivalent of the English word
‘unenforceable’. That word normally connotes an inability to succeed in a suit that has
been entertained and not a procedural shortcoming connected with the institution of
a suit”.
38 werner f. ebke

2(b) does not apply for other reasons.83 The courts of other IMF
Member States, by contrast, are of the opinion that Article VIII, section
2(b) provides a defence. Accordingly, the burden of proving that the
exchange restrictions in question are maintained or imposed consist-
ently with the Fund Agreement and that all other conditions of the
provision are satisfied lies with the party invoking Article VIII, section
2(b) as a defence. As a further consequence of the procedural classifica-
tion of the term “unenforceable”, German courts are required ex officio
to take cognizance of Article VIII, section 2(b) even if it is not invoked
by the defendant. This is in stark contrast to the law of most IMF
Member States that treat “unenforceable” as a defence, where the par-
ties would seem to be able to set aside the application of Article VIII,
section 2(b) at their discretion. Yet, the single most unfortunate conse-
quence of the procedural qualification of “unenforceability” from the
plaintiff ’s point of view, no doubt, is that an “exchange contract” which
did not violate foreign exchange restrictions when entered into can
become “unenforceable” as a result of a subsequent modification or
introduction of exchange restrictions or the accession of a restriction-
imposing state to the IMF.84
The detrimental effects of the German jurisprudence on creditors
became apparent when Eastern European countries joined the IMF
after the fall of the Soviet Union, maintaining existing exchange restric-
tions or imposing new exchange controls with the Fund’s endorse-
ment.85 It was not until the mid-1990s, however, that the German
Supreme Court, in an important obiter dictum, indicated its willing-
ness to change its view and no longer to treat “unenforceability” as a
“pre-condition to suit” but as unvollkommene Verbindlichkeit (“imper-
fect obligation”).86 The substantive law concept of unvollkommene

83
 Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) para. 59.
84
For details see Ebke (note 19), 23 Int’l Law. 677, at 701–702 (1989); Ebke (note 7),
Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) para. 55.
85
For details see Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) para. 57.
86
 BGH, 40 RIW 151 (1994); see also BGH, BGHZ 116, 77, 84. For a more detailed
analysis of these decisions see Ebke, Die Rechtsprechung zur “Unklagbarkeit” gemäß
Art. VIII Abschn. 2(b) Satz 1 IWF-Übereinkommen im Zeichen des Wandels, 47 WM
1169 (1993). The new interpretation of the term “unenforceable” is based upon a pro-
posal advanced by Ebke (note 5), at 293–311. The response of legal commentators to
the proposal and the Bundesgerichtshof ’s obiter dictum has been overwhelmingly posi-
tive. For references see Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) paras. 66–70.
Unfortunately, however, the Court has not had an opportunity expressly to rule on this
issue.
state debt crisis, private creditors, and the imf agreement 39

Verbindlichkeit, if implemented properly,87 would, in effect, bring the

interpretation of the term “unenforceable” in line with that of the juris-
prudence of courts of common law jurisdictions such as the United
States and the United Kingdom.88

F. The Future of Article VIII, Section 2(b) of the

IMF Articles of Agreement

In light of the circumstances discussed thus far, it is fair to conclude

that a coherent solution to the extraterritorial recognition of exchange
controls under Article VIII, section 2(b) is not likely to come from the
IMF or from the courts of the IMF Member States.

I. A Pragmatic Approach
Therefore, judges, legislatures, and academics need to be both realistic
and pragmatic. They need to accept the current state of the law under
Article VIII, section 2(b) of the IMF Articles of Agreement as a fact
and move on from there. This is particularly true regarding the ques-
tion whether or not restrictions on international capital transfers, espe-
cially international loan agreements and other lending transactions
(e.g., state bonds), fall within the ambit of Article VIII, section 2(b).89 If
they accept that the courts of many IMF Member States have come to
the conclusion that Article VIII, section 2(b) does not apply to restric-
tions on international capital transfers in general and international
lending transactions in particular, they will realize that they have the
responsibility to develop a conflict-of-laws rule that is consistent with
the principles of international monetary cooperation and collaboration
as set out, inter alia, in the IMF Articles of Agreement and takes the
legitimate interests of the forum into account as well.90 Whether such a

87
For details of the legal and economic consequences of the new approach to the
interpretation and application of the term “unenforceability” see Ebke (note 7), Anh.
zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) paras. 74–80.
88
Martiny, Book Review, 26 Int’l Law. 255, at 257 (1992) (“If this approach were to
be followed by German courts, it would bridge at least a part of the existing gap
between the Anglo-American and the German interpretation.”).
89
For details see supra text accompanying notes 44–48.
90
See also Article VIII, section 2(b), sentence 2 which reads as follows: “In addition,
members may, by mutual accord, cooperate in measures for the purpose of making the
exchange control regulations of either member more effective, provided that such
measures and regulations are consistent with this Agreement.”
40 werner f. ebke

rule can be created by the judiciary or whether it must be wrought by

legislation is a question which, ultimately, can be answered only by
each and every IMF Member State in light of its own constitutional law.

II. The Rome I Regulation

The European Union provides an interesting example of a conflict-of-
laws rule that allows courts to take the institutional objectives of the
IMF into consideration, yet is flexible enough for the courts to take
legitimate interests of the forum state into account as well. The rule is
laid down in the European Union’s Regulation (EC) No. 593/2008 on
the Law Applicable to Contractual Obligations of June 17, 2008 (“Rome
I Regulation”).91 The Regulation applies directly in all EU Member
States except Denmark and is applicable not only to contractual rela-
tionships within the European Union but also to contracts having per-
sonal or other contacts with non-EU countries (loi uniforme).92 The
Regulation addresses, inter alia, the question whether and, if so, to
what extent a court is required to apply, or may at least give effect to,
overriding mandatory rules (Eingriffsnormen) in the context of private
international transactions.
Contracts entered into after December 17, 2009, are subject to the
Regulation’s Article 9. According to Article 9, section 1, “[o]verriding
mandatory provisions are provisions the respect for which is regarded
as crucial by a country for safeguarding its public interests, such as its
political, social or economic organisation, to such an extent that they
are applicable to any situation falling within their scope, irrespective of
the law otherwise applicable to the contract under this Regulation.”
A similar definition was used by the European Court of Justice several

91
 Regulation (EC) No. 593/2008 of the European Parliament and the European
Council of 17 June 2008, on the law applicable to contractual obligations, O.J.E.C.
July 4, 2008, L 177, p. 6. See also Regulation (EC) No. 864/2007 of the European
Parliament and the European Council of July 11, 2007, on the law applicable to non-
contractual obligations, O.J.E.C. July 31, 2007, L 199, p. 40
92
 Ebke, Das Internationale Privatrecht der Haftung des gesetzlichen
Abschlussprüfers nach der Rom I-VO und der Rom II-VO, 109 ZVglRWiss 397, at 408
(2010); see also Ebke, Der Einfluss des US-amerikanischen Rechts auf das Internationale
Gesellschaftsrecht in Deutschland und Europa: Rezeption oder Abwehr?, in: Ebke /
Elsing / Großfeld / Kühne (eds.), Das deutsche Wirtschaftsrecht unter dem Einfluss des
US-amerikanischen Rechts, 171, at 174 (2011). For a thorough discussion of the highly
controversial question whether or not the Rome I Regulation is applicable in interna-
tional arbitration cases see Mankowski, Rom I-VO und Schiedsverfahren, 57 RIW 30
(2011).
state debt crisis, private creditors, and the imf agreement 41

years ago in Arblade v. Leloup.93 However, while the focus of the

European Court of Justice in Arblade v. Leloup is primarily upon “the
political, social or economic organisation” of the promulgating state,
Article 9, section 1 of the Rome I Regulation emphasizes the “public
interests” of the promulgating state, using “its political, social or eco-
nomic organisation” as possible examples (“such as”). In any event, it
has been emphasized correctly that the “public interests” of the state in
question must be of some magnitude.94 Exchange control regulations
are, as a general rule, “overriding mandatory rules” within the meaning
of Article 9, section 1 of the Regulation because they are adopted pri-
marily in the public interest of the promulgating state, in particular its
economy, its balance of payments, and the stability of its currency.
Article 9 of the Rome I Regulation differentiates between overriding
mandatory rules of the forum (section 2) and those of foreign jurisdic-
tions (section 3).
According to Article 9, section 2, the Regulation does not affect
application of the mandatory rules of the forum.95 That does not neces-
sarily mean, however, that exchange control regulations of the forum
are applicable automatically and without more, i.e., without any further
prerequisites. Rather, exchange control regulations of the forum can be
applied to a contract subject to a law other than that of the forum only
if their application is necessary to safeguard material public interests of
the forum, e.g., its balance of payments or the stability of its currency.96
Moreover, a genuine link between the forum and the case in question is
necessary in order for the forum’s exchange control regulations to be
93
 ECJ, Joined Cases C-369/96 and C-376/96, Arblade v. Leloup, 1999 ECR I-8498,
at 8512, para. 30: The Court held that the term “must be understood as applying to
national provisions compliance with which has been deemed to be so crucial for the
protection of the political, social or economic order in the Member State concerned as
to require compliance therewith by all persons present on the national territory of that
Member State and all legal relationships within that State”.
94
Pfeiffer, Neues Internationales Vertragsrecht – Zur Rom I-Verordnung,
19 Europäische Zeitschrift für Wirtschaftsrecht 622, at 627 (2008); see also Martiny, in:
Münchener Kommentar zum BGB, Vol. 10, Art. 9 Rom I-VO para. 13 (5th ed. 2010)
(“… entscheidend (crucial) für die Wahrung seines öffentlichen Interesses …”).
95
 Article 9, section 2 of the Rome I Regulation reads as follows: “Nothing in this
Regulation shall restrict the application of the overriding mandatory provisions of
the law of the forum.” Article 9, section 2 is not pre-empted by Article VIII, section
2(b) of the Fund Agreement because Article VIII, section 2(b) does not apply
to exchange control regulations of the forum. See Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9
(Rom I-VO) para. 2.
96
See Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) para. 91 (with a list of further
references). See also Rauscher Internationales Privatrecht, at 276 (3rd ed. 2009) (“von
überragender wirtschafts- oder sozialpolitischer Bedeutung”).
42 werner f. ebke

applicable to a contract that is governed by a law other than that of the

forum.97 The fact that the debtor is residing in the forum state will, as a
general rule, not be sufficient in and of itself to establish the necessary
link. Instead, some additional nexus or contact(s) may be required for
a forum to apply its own overriding mandatory rules to a contract that
is governed by a foreign law. It is also important to note that, within the
European Union, mandatory rules of the forum are applicable only if
they are in conformity with European law, both primary and
secondary.98
Under Article 9, section 3 of the Rome I Regulation, overriding
mandatory rules of a country other than the forum state “may be given
effect” to;99 provided, they are part of the law of the country “where the
obligations arising out of the contract have to be or have been per-
formed, in so far as those overriding mandatory provisions render the
performance of the contract unlawful”.100 In considering whether to
give effect to those provisions, “regard shall be had to their nature
and purpose and to the consequences of their application or non-
application”.101 As has been argued elsewhere, a court, in weighing the
various factors, should take into consideration the generally accepted
principles of international monetary cooperation (“coopération moné-
taire international”)102 as set out, for example, in the IMF Articles of
Agreement.103 A court may also want to take into account whether
or not the foreign state imposing exchange controls is availing itself of

97
See Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) para. 91; Kropholler, Internationales
Privatrecht, at 498 (6th ed. 2006); Rauscher (note 96), at 276.
98
 Accord Martiny, Europäisches Internationales Vertragsrecht in Erwartung
der Rom I-Verordnung, 16 Zeitschrift für Europäisches Privatrecht 79, at 104 (2008).
For the applicability of Article VIII, section 2(b) of the IMF Agreement within the
European Union see supra note 7.
99
For the meaning of the phrase “giving effect to” see Pfeiffer (note 94), 19 EuZW
622, at 628 (2008). See also generally Freitag, Die kollisionsrechtliche Behandlung aus-
ländischer Eingriffsnormen nach Art. 9 Abs. 3 Rom I-VO, 29 IPRax 109 (2009).
100
See Article 9, section 3 of the Rome I Regulation. Cf. the leading English
case Ralli Bros. v. Compañia Naviera Sota y Aznar, [1920] 2 K.B. 287. Whether or not
overriding mandatory rules of the state the law of which governs the contract in ques-
tion may be given effect to as well is still an unresolved issue. For details see Ebke
(note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) para. 93 (with further references).
101
See Article 9, section 3 of the Rome I Regulation.
102
See generally Carreau (note 6); James (note 6); Tchakarov (note 6).
103
See Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) para. 92. For a discussion of the
question whether the forum should take into account whether the forum and the state
imposing the exchange restrictions share the same or at least similar values (so-called
“shared values approach”) see Ebke (note 16), at 394 (with further references).
state debt crisis, private creditors, and the imf agreement 43

modern mechanisms and instruments for the restructuring of (sover-

eign) debt.104 In addition, a court will apply an overriding mandatory
rule of a foreign law only if the rule is designed to apply to international
as opposed to only national transactions.105 Also, the application of a
foreign overriding mandatory rule within the meaning of Article 9,
section 3 of the Rome I Regulation must not violate the forum’s public
policy (ordre public). In Germany, this would be the case, for example,
if the foreign provision’s application were to lead to a result that is obvi-
ously contrary to fundamental principles of the German Constitution
(i.e., Grundrechte).106 Thus, for example, a foreign exchange control
regulation the application of which would have discriminatory or con-
fiscatory effects would, as a general rule, be neither applicable nor given
effect to under Article 9, section 3 of the Rome I Regulation.107 Finally,
a genuine link between the case and the state that has promulgated the
overriding mandatory rule in question is also required.108 For the ques-
tion whether or not a particular link is close and substantial enough,
courts could resort to the case law interpreting the phrase “which
involve the currency” in Article VIII, section 2(b) of the IMF Articles
of Agreement.109

III. Final Thoughts

The brief discussion illustrates that Article 9 of the Rome I Regulation
may well be able judicially to create a normative atmosphere within

104
For details of sovereign debt restructuring mechanisms see, e.g., Hartwig-Jacob,
Die Vorteile der Anwendung von “Collective Action Clauses” bei Staatsanleihen, in:
Festschrift für Norbert Horn, 717 (2006); Kolling (note 70), 7 BKR 481, at 487–488
(2007); Bolton, Toward a Statutory Approach to Sovereign Debt Restructuring: Lessons
from Corporate Bankruptcy Practice Around the World (2003) (IMF Staff Paper);
Krueger, A New Approach to Sovereign Debt Restructuring (2002); Schwarcz,
Sovereign Debt Restructuring: A Bankruptcy Reorganization Approach, 85 Cornell
Law Review 956 (2000).
105
See Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) para. 87.
106
See Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) para. 87.
107
See Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom-I VO) paras. 91 & 87. See also supra
note 20.
108
See Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom I-VO) paras. 91 & 87. For a comparative
analysis of the role of a genuine link as to the extraterritorial application of law see
Ziegenhain, Extraterritoriale Rechtsanwendung und die Bedeutung des Genuine-Link-
Erfordernisses: Eine Darstellung der deutschen und amerikanischen Staatenpraxis
(1992); see also generally Sloane, Breaking the Genuine Link: The Contemporary
International Legal Regulation of Nationality, 50 Harvard International Law Journal 1
(2009).
109
For details see Ebke (note 7), Anh. zu Art. 9 (Rom I-VO) paras. 38–40.
44 werner f. ebke

which an acceptance of the objectives of the international monetary

system can grow in the context of conflicts of laws and the extraterrito-
rial recognition of exchange controls. If interpreted and applied prop-
erly, Article 9 of the Rome I Regulation has the potential to revitalize
the idea of international monetary cooperation and collaboration in
connection with private international business and finance transac-
tions, and thereby to gain the respect of the IMF, IMF Member States,
and private creditors.

G. Epilogue

Ad multos felicissimos annos, Rüdiger Wolfrum!

Reality or Aspiration?–Solidarity in International
Environmental and World Trade Law

Holger P. Hestermeyer*

The changing structure of international law has occupied scholars time

and again. Grewe formed our way of thinking about early modern
international law: the Spanish age in the 16th and beginning of the
17th century, the French age until the 19th century and the English age
until the first World War.1 Friedmann explained more recent deve­
lopments, namely the shift from a law of co-existence to a law of co-
operation, and finally a law of community values.2 But the introduction
of community values in international law is not a simple process.
It is hampered by international law’s consensual mode of law-making,3
under which the creation of obligations for states against their will is
problematic,4 ironically more so than under outdated natural law
notions such as those of Vitoria or Vattel.5
The honoree of this Festschrift has, over many years, devoted much
effort to the analysis of legal regimes protecting community values
and interests. Recently, he has turned his attention to the study of soli-
darity as a structural principle of international law, regarding it as

* The author would like to thank Victoria Reuter and Dominik Rennert for research
assistance and Prof. Dr. Sergio Dellavalle, Prof. Dr. Eibe Riedel, Dr. Nele Matz-Lück
and Angela Condello for helpful criticism. Any remaining mistakes are mine.
1
W. Grewe, Epochen der Völkerrechtsgeschichte, at 43 (1984).
2
W. Friedmann, The Changing Structure of International Law (1964). On commu-
nity values see A. Paulus, Die internationale Gemeinschaft im Völkerrecht (2001).
3
L. Henkin, International Law: Politics, Values and Functions, 216 Receuil des
Cours 9, at 45 (1989); P. Weil, Towards Relative Normativity in International Law?,
77 American Journal of International Law 413, at 420 (1983), criticizing the voluntarist
position: A. Cançado Trindade, International Law for Humankind: Towards a New Jus
Gentium, 316 RdC 13, at 45–50 (2005).
4
C. Tomuschat, Obligations Arising for States without or against Their Will, 241
RdC 195–374 (1993).
5
According to Vitoria (1483–1546) norms binding the international community
could emanate from the demands of moral coexistence. Vattel (1714–1767) wrote: “La
première loi générale, que le but même de la société des Nations nous découvre, est que
chaque Nation doit contribuer au bonheur et à la perfection des autres”. E. de Vattel,
Le Droit des gens ou principes de la loi naturelle appliqués à la conduite et aux affaires
des nations et des souverains, at Préliminaires § 13 (1838); A. Dempf, Christliche
Staatsphilosophie in Spanien, at 46 et seq. (1937); J. Délos, La société internationale
et les principes du droit public, at 185 et seq. (2nd ed. 1950).
46 holger p. hestermeyer

characteristic of a legal system (also) protecting community interests.6

Where such interests are at stake, states with their limited jurisdictional
powers can only respond by cooperating in the spirit of solidarity.7
Much of the discussion of the principle of solidarity focuses on soli-
darity with developing countries. This contribution will further pursue
that focus and analyze the implementation of solidarity with develop-
ing countries in two different areas of international law: international
environmental law (B) and world trade law (C). While both areas imple­
ment the concept of solidarity, they do so to clearly varying extents.
I argue that the reason for this difference is that different types of soli-
darity are relevant in the different areas. The treatment of develop­
ing countries in international environmental law is characterized by
self-centered solidarity; developing countries in world trade law bene-
fit from altruistic solidarity. The former type of solidarity is more likely
to be implemented, whereas the latter type all too often remains an
aspiration (D). The discussion is preceded by an introduction defining
the relevant terms, namely the term “principle” often used to refer to
solidarity, “solidarity” itself, as well as the newly coined terms “self-
centered” and “altruistic solidarity” (A). The article will not cover the
issue of solidarity in human rights law, discussed elsewhere in this
Festschrift.

A. Terminology

I. Principles
Most authors use the term “principle”, with or without further qualifi-
cation, when discussing solidarity in international law. Wolfrum uses
the term “structural principle”,8 Wellens calls solidarity a “constitutional
principle”9 and the late Macdonald referred to solidarity as a “principle”

6
R. Wolfrum, Solidarity amongst States: An Emerging Structural Principle of
International Law, in: B. Fassbender et al. (eds.), Völkerrecht als Wertordnung, 1087, at
1100 (2006); see also R. Wolfrum / C. Kojima (eds.), Solidarity: A Structural Principle
of International Law (2010); R. Wolfrum, Solidarity amongst States: an Emerging
Structural Principle of International Law, 49/1 Indian Journal of International Law
8–20 (2009).
7
R. Wolfrum, in: B. Fassbender et al. (eds.) (note 6), at 1087.
8
Id.
9
K. Wellens, Revisiting Solidarity as a (Re-)Emerging Constitutional Principle:
Some Further Reflections, in: R. Wolfrum / C. Kojima (eds.) (note 6), at 3; K. Wellens,
Solidarity as a Constitutional Principle: Its Expanding Role and Inherent Limitations,
in: R. St. J. Macdonald / D. Johnston (eds.), Towards World Constitutionalism, 775
(2005).
solidarity in international environmental and trade law 47

tout court.10 The term has gained traction in other languages, too, as
illustrated by German scholarship on the “Solidaritätsprinzip”11 and
French references to the “principe de solidarité”.12
The identical term used by the authors obfuscates potential disa­
greement, as the term “principle” can have several meanings. Interna­
tionalists may first think of general principles of law as a source of
international law under Art. 38 (1) (c) of the Statute of the ICJ.13 Such
general principles can arise in two ways: by transposing principles
accepted in foro domestico (such as the principle of good faith) into
international law or by directly creating principles in international
relations. Principles in the latter category are also referred to as “gen-
eral principles of international law” and sometimes considered as part
of customary law.14 The identification of general principles is subject to
great methodological difficulties.15
Legal theorists distinguish “principles” from “rules” as sub-­categories
of norms.16 According to Dworkin, a rule applies in an all-or-nothing
manner. If its conditions are fulfilled, the rule is triggered and its com-
mand applies. In contrast, principles favour one side of an argument,

10
R. St. J. Macdonald, Solidarity in the Practice and Discourse of Public International
Law, 8 Pace International Law review 259 (1996).
11
P. Hilpold, Solidarität als Rechtsprinzip–völkerrechtliche, europarechtliche
und staatsrechtliche Betrachtungen, 55 Jahrbuch des öffentlichen Rechts 195 (2007);
K. Frauenkron, Das Solidaritätsprinzip im Umweltvölkerrecht (2008); C. Riemer,
Staatengemeinschaftliche Solidarität in der Völkerrechtsordnung (2003).
12
J. Lebullenger, Accords commerciaux régionaux Euro-sud et principe de solidar-
ité dans le respect des principes du droit de l’OMC, in: Le droit de l’Union européenne
en principes: Liber amicorum en l’honneur de Jean Raux, 689 (2006) (referring to the
principle as an emerging principle of EU law).
13
General principles are also a source of EU law: see Art. 6 (3) TEU; Art. 340
TFEU.
14
P.-M. Dupuy / Y. Kerbrat, Droit international public, at 372–381 (10th ed. 2010);
I. Brownlie, Principles of Public International Law, at 15–19 (6th ed. 2003); G. Gaja,
General Principles of Law, in: R. Wolfrum (ed.), Max Planck EPIL (4th ed. 2010);
H. Lauterpacht, Private Law Sources and Analogies of International Law with Special
Reference to Arbitration (1927).
15
For EU law see Case C-411/05, Palacios de la Villa v. Cortefiel Servicios SA,
Opinion of Advocate General Mazák, 2007 ECR I-08531, para. 86; M. Herdegen,
General Principles of EU Law–the Methodological Challenge, in: U. Bernitz et al.
(eds.), General Principles of EC Law in a Process of Development, 343 (2008).
16
The Bundesverfassungsgericht seems to disagree, as its use of the phrase “Normen
und Prinzipien des Grundgesetzes” would be pleonastic if it regarded principles as a
sub-category of norms. See BVerfG Neue Juristische Wochenschrift (NJW) 51, at
52 (2002); BVerfG NJW 2349, at 2351 (1979). Some authors propose other dichoto-
mies, e.g. rules and standards. L. Alexander / K. Kress, Against Legal Principles,
82 Iowa Law Review 739, at 740 (1996–1997).
48 holger p. hestermeyer

but do not impose a particular result.17 Alexy has thus characterized

principles as demands for optimization which can be abided by to a
greater or lesser extent and lead to a weighing exercise if they come into
conflict.18
Finally, some authors use the term “principle” without implying a
specific technical meaning. In that context “principle” means, amongst
other things, a “fundamental truth or law; motive force” or “a general
law or rule adopted or professed as a guide to action; a settled ground
or basis of conduct or practice”.19
With respect to solidarity, authors refer to the first or third of these
categories, often without explicitly saying so. The use of qualifiers like
“structural” or “constitutional” implies that solidarity is a trait underly-
ing the international legal order20 rather than referring to one of the
three different meanings. The difference between the first and the
third meaning is highly significant: those regarding solidarity as a gen-
eral principle of law assign to it some legally binding value.21 Those
using the term “principle” in a colloquial sense do not always do so.22
At the current stage of development of international law it seems
precipitate to consider solidarity as a legally binding principle for all
of international law. All too often its content is too uncertain for it to
work as an applicable legal norm. However, it is a useful category for
analysing international law. Thus, this contribution will use “principle”
in the colloquial sense. This is not to deny that solidarity cannot ever
be a legally binding norm. In fact, the notion has started to appear
in the operative parts of treaties. Thus, e.g. Art. 3 lit. b of the UN
Convention to Combat Desertification states that parties should
improve cooperation and coordination “in a spirit of international

17
R. Dworkin, Taking Rights Seriously, at 22 et seq. (1978). In contrast, Raz consid-
ers the difference to lie in the specificity of the acts prescribed, i.e. to be a difference
in degree. J. Raz, Legal Principles and the Limits of Law, 81 Yale Law Journal 823,
at 838 (1971–72).
18
R. Alexy, Theorie der Grundrechte, at 72–79 (1994).
19
J. Simpson (ed.), Oxford English Dictionary, (3rd ed.).
20
Wellens in the discussion of his contribution in R. Wolfrum / C. Kojima (eds.)
(note 6), at 39, 40.
21
Macdonald (note 10), at 262, 289 (by implication); Wolfrum, Indian J Int’l L
(note 6), at 9 (referring to “principles having their origin directly in international legal
relations”); Wellens, in: Macdonald / Johnston (note 9), at 775–777.
22
Hilpold (note 11), at 213 (stating that the principle articulates the inner system
of the law without itself being capable of application (subsumtionsfähig)); Riemer
(note 11), at 352.
solidarity in international environmental and trade law 49

s­ olidarity and partnership”;23 the Constitutive Act of the African Union,

much like the OAU Charter before it,24 makes achieving “greater unity
and solidarity between the African countries and the peoples of Africa”
one of the Union’s objectives;25 and under the Agreement Establishing
the Common Market for Eastern and Southern Africa “solidarity and
collective self-reliance among the Member States” are principles
Member States agree to adhere to.26

II. Solidarity
“Solidarity” itself is a complex term with often unclear content. Its ety-
mologic root is the obligatio in solidum of Roman law, from which the
term was transferred to wider usage starting in the 18th century,
becoming popular in such different fields as sociology under Comte
and Durkheim and moral philosophy under Scheler. At the core of the
concept is the idea of the interdependence of members of a self-
identified and legitimate group who expect and are willing to help each
other in need to some extent.27 In international law that group is the
community of states; its members are primarily the states, but with
some justification could include individuals, international organiza-
tions and several other legal entities. Thus, claims for intergenerational
equity28 could be subsumed under “solidarity” just like claims to assist
individuals and weaker states.29 This contribution will focus exclusively
on the last mentioned aspect, i.e. claims to assist developing countries.
Two facets of solidarity play a role in this respect: achieving common
objectives through differentiated obligations and actions in favour of

23
United Nations Convention to Combat Desertification in those Countries
Experiencing Serious Drought and/ or Desertification, Particulary in Africa,
14 October 1996, 33 ILM 3 (1994).
24
Art. II (1) (a) of the Charter of the Organization of African Unity, 25 May 1963,
Art. 479 UNTS 69.
25
Art. 3 (a) of the Constitutive Act of the African Union, 11 July 2000, 2158
UNTS 3.
26
For details see Art. 6 (b) of the Treaty Establishing the Common Market
for Eastern and Southern Africa, 5 November 1993, 33 ILM 1072. Note that “solidarity
of the world socialist community” was a common term in treaties between commu-
nist states. See e.g. Treaty of Friendship and co-operation between Mongolia and
Czechoslovakia of 18 June 1973, Art. 5, 929 UNTS 77 (1974).
27
K. Bayertz, Begriff und Problem der Solidarität, in: K. Bayertz (ed.), Solidarität,
11 (1998).
28
R. Wolfrum, in: B. Fassbender et al. (eds) (note 6), at 1094.
29
Wellens, in: Macdonald & Johnston (note 9), at 783, 786, 789, 794.
50 holger p. hestermeyer

particular states.30 These two facets are reflected in the UN General

Assembly’s definition of solidarity in the UN Millennium Declaration:
“Global challenges must be managed in a way that distributes the costs
and burdens fairly in accordance with basic principles of equity and
social justice. Those who suffer or who benefit least deserve help from
those who benefit most.”31 The importance of solidarity has been reaf-
firmed numerous times by the General Assembly.32
The Commission on Human Rights and later the Human Rights
Council attempted to move the agenda of solidarity further, repeatedly
calling for more assistance to be given to developing countries and
appointing an independent expert on human rights and interna­
tional solidarity who adopted a broad approach to solidarity.33 The
Human Rights Council’s work interconnects with the debate on “third-
generation rights” and in particular the right to development.34 How­
ever, the Council’s resolutions in the area of solidarity failed to receive
the approval of the developed world. Attempts to implement notions of
solidarity with the developing world against the will of the developed
world are bound to fail–no matter how laudable they may be.

III. Self-centered v. Altruistic Solidarity

This contribution argues that the level of implementation of solidarity
depends on the type of solidarity at issue. It has already been men-
tioned that solidarity is a trait of a legal system protecting community
interests. But the community interests are not all of the same type.

30
Wolfrum, Indian J Int’l L (note 6), at 8.
31
UNGA Res. 55/2, para. 6 (adopted without vote).
32
UNGA Res. 64/157 of 8 March 2010, para. 4, lits e, f (referring to both solidarity
among states and as a right of peoples and individuals, adopted with 127 votes to 54
and 5 abstentions), similarly UNGA Res. 63/189 of 18 March 2009 (124 to 55, 7 absten-
tions). See also UNGA Res. 61/160 of 21 February 2007 (124 to 56, 4 abstentions).
33
Commission on Human Rights Res. 2005/55 of 20 April 2005 (adopted 37 votes
to 15 with the developed country members voting against); Human Rights Council
Res. A/HRC/RES/15/13 of 6 October 2010, para. 2 (adopted 32 votes to 14); A/HRC/
RES/12/9 of 12 October 2009 (adopted 33 votes to 14). The independent expert’s latest
report was published on 5 July 2010 as A/HRC/15/32. He defined solidarity as “the
union of interests or purposes among countries, and social cohesion between them,
based upon the dependence of States and other international actors on each other, in
order to preserve the order and very survival of international society, and in order to
achieve collective goals, which require international cooperation and joint action.”
(Id., at 20)
34
On the right to development see F. Piovesan / I. Prado Soares (eds.), Direito ao
Desenvolvimento (2010). On third-generation rights: E. Riedel, Menschenrechte der
dritten Dimension, EuGRZ, 9, at 13–21 (1989).
solidarity in international environmental and trade law 51

Some community interests involve problems clearly and directly affect-

ing each member of the community. Cooperating with others towards
the common goal constitutes an act of “self-centred solidarity”: the
benefits of the co-operation to the cooperating state are clear and
direct. “Self-centred solidarity”, i.e. showing solidarity with respect to
goals which are also directly in one’s own interest is not a contradiction
in terms. As described above, the very notion of solidarity implies the
interdependence of members of a group. An example of self-centred
solidarity is cooperation to combat global warming. States are aware of
the direct impact of global warming on each of them. Even though
cooperation to tackle it leaves much to be desired (as explained by the
theory of the tragedy of the commons), it is obviously in the interest of
all cooperating states.
The situation is different with respect to other community interests
such as the development of least-developed countries (LDCs). Here
only the developing state benefits directly and clearly, whereas imme-
diate benefits to other states are indirect and less apparent. To avoid any
risk of being ambiguous: realizing these interests is also in the long-
term enlightened self-interest of every state. Development produces
states which both are stable and contribute productively to the world
economy. But the advantages require a long-term, enlightened per-
spective. Solidarity in these instances will be referred to as “altruistic
solidarity”.35

B. Solidarity in International Environmental Law

In no area of law are the common interests of mankind clearer, the

threats to the very existence of humanity more obvious, than in inter-
national environmental law. Whether reading through the climate
change reports of the IPCC,36 the FAO’s stock-taking with regard to
the overexploitation of straddling fish stocks,37 or reports on declining
biodiversity in the CBD Secretariat’s global biodiversity outlook,38

35
Schütz and Macdonald offer a different distinction: according to them, solidarity
rights are effective only where there are obligations on both sides. R. Schütz, Solidarität
im Wirtschaftsvölkerrecht: Eine Bestandsaufnahme zentraler entwicklungsspezi­
fischer Solidarrechte und Solidarpflichten im Völkerrecht (1994); Macdonald
(note 10), at 280.
36
Most recently: IPCC, Climate Change 2007. Synthesis Report (2007).
37
FAO, The State of World Fisheries and Aquaculture, at 35 (2008).
38
Most recently: CBD, Global Biodiversity Outlook 3 (2010).
52 holger p. hestermeyer

the conclusion the reader draws is identical: conservation is clearly a

common goal for all states, a goal which mankind must pursue to
ensure its own survival. If solidarity is a corollary of an international
system protecting community interests, the principle of solidarity
should be clearly recognizable in international environmental law. In
most cases the interests of every state are directly and clearly involved,
making cooperation a case of self-centred solidarity.

I. Background
From its very beginnings international environmental law was marked
by concern for common objectives and consideration for neighbouring
states. From the Trail Smelter Arbitration to principle 21 of the
Stockholm Declaration of 1972 and principle 2 of the Rio Declarations
of 1992 it has become clear that states may not cause damage to the
environment of neighbouring states and thus have to take their inter-
ests into account.39 But taking account of the concerns of neighbour­
ing states constituted only a first step towards the protection of global
common concerns such as the climate, air and–even though more
localized–biodiversity. For these common concerns new approaches
were needed, such as the imposition of different obligations on devel-
oped and developing countries.40 Differentiated obligations are not just
an imperative of global justice reminiscent of the “polluter pays”
principle,41 given that developed countries have played a larger role in

39
H. von Heinegg, in: K. Ipsen (ed.), Völkerrecht, at 854 et seq. (4th ed. 1999);
S. McCaffrey, International Watercourses, in: R. Wolfrum (ed.), Max Planck EPIL (4th
ed. 2010); Trail Smelter Arbitral Tribunal, 11 March 1941, reprinted in R. Bratspies /
R. Miller (eds.), Transboundary Harm in International Law. Lessons from the Trail
Smelter Arbitration, 326, at 331 (2006); United Conference on the Human Environment,
Stockholm Declaration of the United Nations Conference on the Human Environment,
16 June 1972, 11 ILM 1416 (1972); United Nations Conference on Environment and
Development, Rio Declaration on Environment and Development, 14 June 1992,
31 ILM 874 (1992); OECD Principles Concerning Transfrontier Pollution, 14 ILM 242
(1975); ICJ, Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons, Advisory Opinion, ICJ
Reports 1996, 226, para. 29; ICJ, Case Concerning Pulp Mills on the River Uruguay
(Argentina v. Uruguay), paras. 190–266.
40
E. Hey, Common but Differentiated Responsibilities, in: R. Wolfrum (ed.), Max
Planck EPIL (4th ed. 2010); C. Stone, Common but Differentiated Responsibilities
in International Law, 98 AJIL 276 (2004); L. Rajamani, Differential Treatment in
International Environmental Law (2006); B. Kellersmann, Die gemeinsame, aber
differenzierte Verantwortlichkeit von Industriestaaten und Entwicklungsländern für
den Schutz der globalen Umwelt (2000).
41
On the principle see A. Boyle, Polluter Pays, in: R. Wolfrum (ed.), Max Planck
EPIL (4th ed. 2010).
solidarity in international environmental and trade law 53

causing global environmental problems. They are also without any

alternative: developing countries do not have the financial resources or
technical know-how to undertake the same obligations as developed
countries. Insisting on formally equal treatment would prevent devel-
oping countries from participating in environmental regimes. In the
pursuit of vital interests developed states have to compromise if they
want cooperation. Accordingly, states adopted differentiated responsi-
bilities in the realization of common goals,42 a reflection of solidarity
with weaker states. The principle, alluded to in several declarations43
and implemented in many environmental treaties,44 is known as that of
“common but differentiated responsibilities” pursuant to principle 7 of
the Rio Declaration, which states: “States shall cooperate in a spirit of
global partnership to conserve, protect and restore the health and
integrity of the Earth’s ecosystem. In view of the different contributions
to global environmental degradation, States have common but differ-
entiated responsibilities. The developed countries acknowledge the
responsibility that they bear in the international pursuit to sustainable
development in view of the pressures their societies place on the global
environment and of the technologies and financial resources they
command.”45

II. Common but Differentiated Responsibilities

Solidarity with developing countries clearly shows in the doctrine of
common but differentiated responsibilities, which implements both

42
There is some room for argument on what exactly “differentiated” means: explic-
itly different legal obligations or legal obligations with a different impact on different
states. See Stone (note 40), at 277.
43
Principles 12, 23 of the Stockholm Declaration; principle d of the Hague
Declaration on the Environment, 11 March 1989, 28 ILM 1308, at 1309 (1989).
44
Explicitly e.g. in Art. 3 Nr. 1 of the United Nations Framework Convention on
Climate Change, 9 May 1992, 1771 UNTS 107 and Art. 10 of the Kyoto Protocol to the
United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, 10 December 1997, 37
ILM 32 (1998). The principle is applied implicitly in many other treaties, such as the
Montreal Protocol on Substances that Deplete the Ozone Layer, 16 September 1987,
1522 UNTS 3 (see Arts 5, 10, 10A), the Convention on Biological Diversity, 5 June
1992, 1760 UNTS 79 (see Arts 6, 8 (m), 9 (e), 15 (7), 16 (2), 17(1), 18(2), 19–21), the
United Nations Convention to Combat Desertification in those Countries Experiencing
Serious Drought and/ or Desertification, Particularly in Africa, 14 October 1996, 33
ILM 3 (1994) (see Arts 3 (d), 4, 6, 18, 20 (2)) and the United Nations Convention on
the Law of the Sea, 10 December 1982, 1833 UNTS 3 (see e.g. Arts 61 (3), 62 (2, 3), 82
(3, 4), 144, 202–203).
45
Rio Declaration (note 39).
54 holger p. hestermeyer

relevant facets of solidarity: achieving common objectives through dif-

ferentiated obligations and actions in favour of particular states.
Agreements use various methods to differentiate obligations for the
benefit of developing countries.46 Obligations may be subject to the
consideration of the particular circumstances of states, demanding,
e.g., action “to the utmost of [a state’s] own resources”47 or “in so far as
possible, and as appropriate for each country”.48 The group of countries
benefiting from such differentiation is at times named explicitly, usu-
ally developing countries as such.49 More concrete differentiation takes
the form of explicitly spelled out different levels of obligations for
developing and developed countries,50 including special transition
periods for developing countries51 or a release from obligations alto-
gether.52 Even though differentiated obligations in favour of developing
countries have thus become common, recourse to such differentiated
obligations is not consistent.53
Often, differentiated levels of obligations alone do not suffice for
the creation of an effective regime. Action in favour of developing
countries, the second facet of solidarity, is needed to guarantee the
regime’s success by building the capacity of developing countries
required to fulfill their obligations. Common tools for this purpose
are the transfer of technology and/or financial means to developing
countries.54 Provisions on the transfer of technological knowledge
have been included in many modern multilateral environmental

46
Scholars have developed different taxonomies for the methods of differentiation.
See e.g. Stone (note 40), at 284.
47
See Art. 4 UNESCO Convention for the Protection of the World Cultural and
Natural Heritage, 16 November 1972, 1037 UNTS 151.
48
Ibid. Art. 5. Treaties use various wordings, see e.g. Art. 2 of the Convention on the
Prevention of Marine Pollution by Dumping of Wastes and other Matter, 29 December
1972, 1046 UNTS 138.
49
Thus, e.g. Art. 13 (3) of the Convention for the Protection and Development of
the Marine Environment of the Wider Caribbean Region, 24 March 1983, 1506 UNTS
157, demands cooperation in the provision of technical and other assistance in par-
ticular areas “taking into account the special needs of the smaller island developing
countries and territories”.
50
E.g. Art. 5 (3) of the Montreal Protocol on Substances that Deplete the Ozone
Layer.
51
E.g. Art. 5 (1) of the Montreal Protocol on Substances that Deplete the Ozone
Layer.
52
E.g. Art. 3, Annex I to the Kyoto Protocol to the United Nations Framework
Convention on Climate Change.
53
See e.g. Kellersmann (note 40), at 287–289.
54
See principle 9 of the Stockholm Declaration.
solidarity in international environmental and trade law 55

a­ greements.55 They demand e.g. that state parties take all steps to
ensure that “the best available” or “environmentally sound” relevant
technology is transferred to developing countries, at times providing
for this to take place “under fair and most favorable conditions”.56
Technology transfer raises significant practical questions: governments
rarely possess the relevant knowledge. The private sector does, but it is
not bound by international law. On the contrary it may benefit from
the protection of knowledge under national intellectual property laws,
bolstered in turn by states’ obligations under the TRIPS Agreement.
Home states of technology holders have shown little enthusiasm when
it comes to putting their technological leadership at risk by implement-
ing aggressive approaches to technology transfer including compul-
sory licences. Technology transfer has often remained limited to vague
references to “setting incentives” for the transfer of technology. The
second tool for action in favour of developing countries offers a way
out of this conundrum: the transfer of financial means.57 In 1990, when
amending the Montreal Protocol, states agreed for the first time to the
creation of a meaningful financial mechanism tackling development
problems in the pursuit of environmental goals. Such financial mecha-
nisms have since become both a helpful element of multilateral envi-
ronmental treaties and a common cause for conflict in treaty
negotiations. Unlike development aid,58 the transfer of financial means
in environmental law is connected to a particular environmental pro-
ject. The Montreal Protocol provides, e.g., that the mechanism “shall
meet all agreed incremental costs” to enable compliance by developing
states with the agreement and, to prevent a simple relabelling of devel-
opment aid, that contributions to the fund shall be “additional to
other financial transfers” to such states.59 The Multilateral Fund set up
as part of that financial mechanism60 provides financial and technical

55
Technology transfer was also one of the demands of the New International
Economic Order. See Declaration for the Establishment of a New International
Economic Order, GA Res. 3201 (XXIX), para. 4 (p).
56
Art. 10 A of the Montreal Protocol on Substances that Deplete the Ozone Layer;
Art. 4 (5) of the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change; see also
Art. 16 of the Convention on Biological Diversity.
57
E.g. Art. 16 (2) and (3), 20, 21 of the Convention on Biological Diversity.
58
On development aid as an expression of solidarity see P. Dann, Solidarity and
the Law of Development Cooperation, in: R. Wolfrum / C. Kojima (eds.), Solidarity:
A Structural Principle of International Law, 55 (2010).
59
Art. 10 of the Montreal Protocol.
60
Art. 10 (2) of the Montreal Protocol.
56 holger p. hestermeyer

assistance in the form of grants or concessional loans. By July 2009 it

had received funding of US $ 2.34 billion and, through its work, helped
“virtually all” parties to the protocol to meet their targets.61 Later agree-
ments, the financial mechanisms of which are generally operated by
the Global Environment Facility (GEF),62 often fail clearly to define
what costs are the incremental costs that are to be covered.63
Commentators sense growing resistance by contributing countries64
and have noted that the reluctance to contribute is greater where funds
tackle multiple vaguely defined problems than where they are ear-
marked for specific issues.65
This short overview shows that solidarity with developing countries
has by now become pervasive in international environmental law.
Many environmental agreements concern self-centred solidarity: cli-
mate change and the depletion of the ozone layer, e.g., have a direct and
clear impact on all states. The fact that solidarity is reasonably well
implemented in environmental law supports the thesis of this chapter
that self-centred solidarity is implemented better than altruistic soli-
darity. But even within environmental law there are differences: thus,
the transfer of financial means and tackling environmental problems
which are more localized (e.g. biodiversity issues) invoke more altruis-
tic solidarity than differentiated levels of substantive obligations when
combating global problems. Funds with multiple, less clearly defined
purposes or obligations of technology transfer can arguably be catego-
rized as instances of altruistic solidarity. Anecdotal evidence, such as
the difficult negotiations relating to a financial mechanism in the
climate change context, the poor implementation of technology trans-
fer or the perceived lack of willingness to contribute to funds with mul-
tiple purposes, seems to support the thesis that in these instances
solidarity–namely altruistic solidarity–proves harder to implement.

61
See http://www.multilateralfund.org/about_the_multilateral_fund.htm and
http://www.multilateralfund.org/achievements.htm.
62
The GEF serves as a financial mechanism for the CBD, the UNFCCC, the
Stockholm Convention on Persistent Organic Pollutants and the UNCCD.
63
The United Nations Convention to Combat Desertification contains only
commitments as to efforts to ensure “adequate” financial resources. The word
“incremental” is used only with respect to funding from the GEF. See Art. 20 of the
UNCCD.
64
N. Matz, Environmental Financing: Function and Coherence of Financial
Mechanisms in International Environmental Agreements, 6 MPYUNL 473, at 531
(2002).
65
Macdonald (note 10), at 289.
solidarity in international environmental and trade law 57

More research, particularly on localized environmental treaties and

solidarity, could further support the thesis.

C. Solidarity in World Trade Law

World trade law is another core area requiring analysis when one is
examining the principle of solidarity with developing countries. After
all, despite disagreement on what exactly “development” means, many
of the indicators used to determine whether a country is developing or
developed are economic ones.66 Wolfrum has pointed out that world
trade law, too, promotes community goals, namely the enhancement of
economic development.67 That goal was not yet included in the pream-
ble to GATT 1947, but was added to the preamble to the WTO
Agreement.68 Development demands altruistic solidarity as opposed to
the self-centred solidarity often at stake in environmental law: global
warming has a potentially devastating, perceivable impact on every
country. Development is first of all in the interest of the developing
country itself. This is not to deny that development also has positive
welfare effects for already developed countries. But these effects tend to
be more indirect and long-term–and are at times overlooked by a pub-
lic focused on the creation of new competitors. A closer look at world
trade law sadly shows that accordingly solidarity is poorly imple-
mented. The flaw is not in WTO law itself: WTO law allows developed
countries to act in favour of developing countries. But developed coun-
tries can choose not to implement relevant exceptions and too often
implement them poorly, confirming the hypothesis that solidarity in
international law works better if it is self-centred.

I. Background
The General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT) was drafted after
World War II to prevent the economically disastrous policies of the late

66
The WTO uses a mechanism of self-identification of developing countries. Two
relevant criteria are mentioned in Art. XVIII:1 of the GATT: Members the economies
of which can only support a poor standard of living and which are in the early stages of
development. See H. Hestermeyer, Human Rights and the WTO: The Case of Patents
and Access to medicines, at 71 (2007).
67
Wolfrum, in: B. Fassbender et al. (eds.) (note 6), at 1097.
68
For details see H. Hestermeyer / A. Grotto, in R. Wolfrum / P.-T. Stoll /
H. Hestermeyer (eds.), Max Planck Commentaries on World Trade Law, Vol. 5,
Preamble GATT, paras. 21–28 (2011).
58 holger p. hestermeyer

1920s and the 1930s from reoccurring. Suffering from the great depres-
sion, states struggled to protect their industries by raising tariffs to
(almost) unprecedented levels,69 which in turn led their trading part-
ners to raise their tariffs. World trade plummeted and pulled states’
economies further down, worsening rather than alleviating the effects
of the depression.70 To prevent states from falling into this trap the
GATT system channels barriers to trade into tariffs by prohibiting
restrictions other than duties, taxes or other charges.71 Contracting
parties bind their tariffs72 and negotiate them down on the basis of reci-
procity in trade rounds.73 A tariff concession made to one party is auto-
matically accorded to all others under the most-favoured-nation
clause74 and an imported product cannot be discriminated against
after importation under the national treatment clause.75 These rules
effectively addressed the pre-war beggar thy neighbour policies of
raising tariffs but, aside from the neglected Art. XVIII of the GATT,76
did not address development issues. The reason for this failure is
obvious: only 11 of the original 23 contracting parties were developing
countries. Development concerns were taken up by the Economic
and Social Council of the UN, and led to the establishment of the
UN Conference on Trade and Development in 1964. The 1970s saw a
major push towards more solidarity in the world economic system.
Under the heading of the establishment of a “New International
Economic Order” of UN General Assembly Resolution 3201,77 numer-
ous demands for reform were made, including the extension of active
assistance to developing countries, the creation of favourable condi-
tions for the transfer of financial resources, access to modern science

69
The most (in)famous of these tariff increases was the U.S. Smoot-Hawley Tariff
Act of June 1930; see B. Eichengreen, The Political Economy of the Smoot-Hawley
Tariff, 12 Research in Economic History 1 (1989).
70
On the history of the GATT see J. Jackson, World Trade and the Law of GATT,
at 1–57 (1969); D. Irwin / P. Mavroidis / A. Sykes, The Genesis of the GATT (2008).
71
Art. XI of the GATT. The provision also sets out exceptions to that rule.
72
Art. II of the GATT. The tariff bindings can be found in the schedules of contract-
ing parties.
73
Art. XXVIII bis of the GATT.
74
Art. I of the GATT.
75
Art. III of the GATT.
76
No developing country has ever invoked Art. XVIII Secs A, C and D of the GATT.
Section B has been invoked by at least twelve developing countries. See H. Jessen, in:
R. Wolfrum / P.-T. Stoll / H. Hestermeyer (eds.), Max Planck Commentaries on World
Trade Law, Vol. 5, Art. XVIII, paras. 83–86 (2011).
77
UN GA Res. A/RES/S-6/3201 of 1 May 1974.
solidarity in international environmental and trade law 59

and technology as well as technology transfer.78 But the movement

towards a New International Economic Order failed, even though
many of the individual agenda items reappear from time to time.79
Nevertheless, the growing importance of developing countries in the
GATT (by May 1970 52 of 77 GATT contracting parties were develop-
ing)80 guaranteed the inclusion of development issues in the GATT
agenda and led to the introduction of Part IV of the GATT in 1964 and
the so-called “Enabling Clause”–a GATT decision–in 1979.81 These
changes, carried over into the WTO set up in 1995 and completed by
provisions on special and differential treatment in other agreements
such as the TRIPS Agreement82 as well as later decisions,83 form the
core of the WTO’s rules on “special and differential treatment” of devel-
oping countries. The strengthening of these rules is expected in the
current negotiation round under the title of the “Doha Development
Agenda”.84

II. Special and Differential Treatment

It has already been pointed out that the promotion of development in
world trade law demands altruistic solidarity. Hence, according to the
thesis of this contribution, states should be more reluctant to adopt
binding obligations in this respect than in areas of self-centered soli-
darity in international environmental law.
At first glance, though, the WTO order seems to be a model of
implementing solidarity. In 2010 the WTO Secretariat identified a
grand total of 148 provisions in the WTO Agreements and 16 decisions

78
Id., para. 4. See also Charter of Economic Rights and Duties of States, UN GA Res.
3281 (XXIX) of 12 December 1974.
79
J. Bhagwati (ed.), The New International Economic Order (1978);
80
M. Matsushita / T. Shoenbaum / P. Mavroidis, The World Trade Organization:
Law, Practice and Policy, at 765 (2nd ed. 2006).
81
Differential and More Favourable Treatment Reciprocity and Fuller Participation
of Developing Countries, Decision of 28 November 1979 (L/4903). Similar provisions
had already been agreed on in 1971 on a temporary basis.
82
J. Watal, Intellectual Property Rights in the WTO and Developing Countries
(2001).
83
E.g. General Council, Preferential Tariff Treatment for Least-Developed
Countries, Decision on Waiver, WT/L/304 of 17 June 1999; prolonged by General
Council, Preferential Tariff Treatment for Least-Developed Countries: Decision on
Extension of Waiver, WT/L/759 of 29 May 2009.
84
On the topic of special and differential treatment see R. E. Hudec, Developing
Countries in the GATT Legal System (1987); A. Mitchell, Legal Principles in
WTO Disputes, at 238 et seq. (2008); S. Panitchpakdi, in: R. Wolfrum / P.-T. Stoll /
H. Hestermeyer (eds.), Max Planck Commentaries on World Trade Law, Vol. 5,
Introduction to Part IV (2011).
60 holger p. hestermeyer

providing for special and differential treatment in favour of developing

and/or LDC Members. It distinguished six types of such provisions:
provisions to increase the trade opportunities of developing Members;
provisions under which Members should safeguard the interests of
developing Members; provisions providing for flexibility of commit-
ments, of action, and use of policy instruments; provisions relating to
LDC Members; transitional time periods; and, finally, technical assis-
tance.85 Almost a guiding principle of special and differential treat-
ment, Art. XXXVI:8 of the GATT provides that developed Members
“do not expect reciprocity for commitments made by them in trade
negotiations to reduce or remove tariffs and other barriers to the trade
of less-developed” Members.
A more thorough analysis, however, reveals significant shortcom-
ings. Often, provisions providing for special and differential treatment
are formulated less forcefully than other WTO obligations, and merely
speak of according “high priority”, making “every effort” or even just
recognizing a “need” without providing for concrete obligations.86
Where provisions do grant rights to developing Members, these
Members can be convinced not to exercise them by the offer of conces-
sions elsewhere, the threat of withdrawal of voluntarily granted aid or
outright imposition of obligations in other settings.87 An attempt to
reduce such pressure was undertaken during the Hong Kong Ministerial
in 2005 which decided to “urge donors, multilateral agencies and inter-
national financial institutions … to ensure that LDCs are not subject to
conditionalities on loans, grants and official development assistance
that are inconsistent with their rights and obligations under the WTO
Agreements”.88
Many other provisions allow developing Members to be granted
special treatment, but do not mandate it.89 The effectiveness of these
provisions is entirely dependent on their implementation by other

85
WTO Secretariat, Special and Differential Treatment Provisions in WTO
Agreements and Decisions, TN/CTD/W/33 of 8 June 2010, paras 2–5.
86
See Arts XXXVI–XXXVII of the GATT.
87
A particularly blatant example is the pressure exercised on developing Members
in the area of pharmaceutical patents, ultimately leading to the adoption of the “Doha
Declaration” reconfirming several rights. Hestermeyer, (note 66), at 256–261.
88
Ministerial Declaration, WT/MIN(05)/DEC of 22 December 2005, Annex F,
para. 38.
89
Some authors suggest that the discretion of developed Members at times is
reduced so that special treatment becomes a right. Schütz (note 35), at 296. It would be
unrealistic to expect any such claim to be raised in dispute settlement.
solidarity in international environmental and trade law 61

WTO Members.90 The foremost example is the Enabling Clause. It

allows Members to accord “differential and more favourable treat-
ment to developing countries” under the conditions set down in the
clause notwithstanding the most-favoured-nation clause of Art. I of
the GATT. One instance of more favourable treatment under the
Enabling Clause is the “Generalized System of Preferences” (GSP),
preferential tariff treatment accorded by developed Members to
products originating in developing Members.91 Under a GSP scheme
developed Members can (but need not) impose tariff rates lower
than the most-favoured-nation rate applicable to other WTO Members
for products from developing Members. Many developed countries
have established GSP schemes.92 But the effectiveness of such schemes
depends on a number of factors. First of all, they can be effective only
if they include products which the relevant countries actually export.
While under the EU’s “everything but arms” scheme for LDCs93 99.4%
of imports from LDCs were covered in 2001, the US scheme, for the
same period, covered only 44.1% of imports and the Canadian one
12.1%.94 Developed countries tend to impose the highest tariffs in areas
which are of most interest to developing countries (e.g. agricultural
products and textiles), leading one study to estimate that LDCs essen-
tially do not gain from 97% product coverage.95 Secondly, developing
country producers often cannot make use of GSP schemes because
of their lack of knowledge about such programmes, restrictive rules
of origin or non-tariff barriers. In 2001 the proportion of goods
actually receiving GSP preferences to those eligible was 70.2% for
Canada, 46.9% for the EU and 95.8% for the US.96 As a positive sign,
during the Hong Kong Ministerial developed countries agreed to pro-
vide duty-free and quota-free market access for all products or, in case
of difficulties, 97% of the products originating from all LDCs starting

90
Arguably this is even the case with respect to the principle of non-reciprocity.
91
The conditions a GSP scheme must fulfill are explained in G. Sacerdoti /
K. Castren, in: R. Wolfrum / P.-T. Stoll / H. Hestermeyer (eds.), Max Planck
Commentaries on World Trade Law, Vol. 5, Art. I GATT, paras. 37–41 (2011).
92
UNCTAD lists 36 initiatives by 23 countries to improve market access for
least-developed countries. UNCTAD, The Least Developed Countries Report 2010,
at 59 et seq. (2010).
93
For the current GSP scheme see Council Regulation (EC) No. 732/2008 of July
2008.
94
UNCTAD, The Least Developed Countries Report 2004, at 251 (2004).
95
UNCTAD (note 92), at 62.
96
UNCTAD (note 94), at 251.
62 holger p. hestermeyer

in 2013.97 The solidarity aspect of GSP programmes is further impaired

where they become subject to political pressure. In the US, the presi-
dent ultimately determines the eligibility of countries and products for
GSP treatment, but any person may petition for the amendment of the
list of countries eligible for GSP treatment and any “interested party”
(including domestic producers) may petition for modification of the
list of eligible articles. Countries have been removed from the list
because of findings of violations of worker rights, intellectual property
rights or other statutory concerns. When deciding whether products
should be on the list, the anticipated impact on US producers of directly
competing products is explicitly taken into account.98 The impact of
domestic industry pressure on US GSP decisions is not easy to gauge,99
but it is clearly relevant according to the architecture of the system.100
The system thus fails to implement the altruistic solidarity which would
be required for it to work effectively. Where we import products which
have no domestic competition or which are simply not produced in
LDCs we are happy to grant preferential treatment to such countries.
Where the products compete with our own products we are much
more reluctant to do so.101

97
Ministerial Declaration, WT/MIN(05)/DEC of 22 December 2005, Annex F,
para. 36. For the implementation period see L. Bartels / C. Häberli, Binding Tariff
Preferences for Developing Countries under Article II GATT, 13 Journal of
International Economic Law 969, at 975 (2010).
98
Office of the US Trade Representative, US Generalized System of Preferences
(GSP) Guidebook, at 6–10 (2010). Ironically, sometimes the mere fact that the devel-
oping country producer is able to compete with the developed producer is used as an
argument by US industry in its petition to strike a product from the list (or the industry
threatens to move production overseas). See Testimony Heard on Petition to End
Indonesia’s GSP Benefits for Plastic Tape, 27 BNA International Trade Reporter 1890–
1891 (2010); U.S. Producer Seeks Removal of Bangladesh Sleeping Bag Imports from
Eligibility for GSP, 27 BNA Int’l Trade Reporter 1849–1850 (2010).
99
For an early attempt see J. DeVault, Political Pressure and the US Generalized
System of Preferences, 22(1) Eastern Economic Journal 35 (1996).
100
Bartels and Häberli have identified the problem and proposed an elegant
solution: binding preferences under Art. II GATT. The political will to do so is
lacking–confirming the lack of will to implement altruistic solidarity. Bartels / Häberli
(note 97).
101
See also C. Dowlah, The Generalized System of Preferences of the United States:
Does It Promote Industrialization and Economic Growth in Least Developed
Countries?, 1 The Law and Development Review 72 (2008); UNCTAD (note 92), at 45
et seq. (listing further weaknesses of GSP programs like the reduced preference margin
in light of Regional Trade Agreements).
solidarity in international environmental and trade law 63

D. Conclusions

Solidarity has long been invoked as a strong moral claim. But solidarity
is also a value reflected in international law. However, it is implemented
to varying degrees. Whereas it is clearly visible in many parts of envi-
ronmental law, it is all too often reduced to an aspiration in world trade
law. Its implementation in that area falls short in many respects. This
difference is explained, according to the theory advanced in this contri-
bution (and subject to the naturally inherent risk of oversimplifying
certain archetypes), by the fact that different types of solidarity are
prevalent in environmental and in world trade law. International envi-
ronmental law often tackles problems which are of direct and clear
concern to the states showing solidarity, e.g. climate change or the
depletion of the ozone layer. Cooperation in these instances is a matter
of self-centred solidarity: the benefits to the cooperating state are
apparent; there is the political will to act accordingly. This is exempli-
fied by binding rules containing different levels of obligations. Where
environmental law invokes altruistic solidarity, e.g. in the field of tech-
nology transfer, implementation falls behind. Special and differential
treatment in world trade law addresses the economic development of
developing countries. While this development is in the long-term, edu-
cated interest of the developed world, short-term, direct benefits are
less apparent. Solidarity in that area thus is altruistic. An analysis of the
rules on special and differential treatment in the WTO reveals their
weakness: many provisions merely speak of according a high priority
to development goals or allow but do not require the preferential treat-
ment of developing countries. The schemes adopted under these per-
missions leave much to be desired. In particular, benefits can be
withdrawn where they threaten the interests of national industries.
This less than satisfactory implementation of solidarity confirms the
thesis advanced in this contribution: whereas international law has
made significant steps towards implementing self-centred solidarity, it
still lags behind where altruistic solidarity is at stake.102

102
It should be noted that Macdonald followed an approach reminiscent of the one
pursued here by concluding that reciprocal approaches in economic law are more suc-
cessful than non-reciprocal approaches as represented by the New International
Economic Order.
 Der lange Weg zur doppelten Mehrheit
im Rat der Europäischen Union nach dem Vertrag
von Lissabon: Vom Völkerrecht zum genuinen
Europäischen Verfassungsrecht vor dem
Hintergrund nationaler Erfahrungen

Jürgen Jekewitz

A. Einleitung

Zum institutionellen Teil des Kanons klassischer Völkerrechtsregeln

gehörte lange Zeit als Selbstverständlichkeit, dass in völkervertraglich
begründeten Staatenverbindungen oder sonstigen internationalen
Organisationen jedem Mitglied ungeachtet seiner Größe, seiner
Einwohnerzahl oder seiner wirtschaftlichen und politischen Bedeutung
das gleiche Stimmgewicht zuerkannt war. Darüber hinaus wurde die
Ausübung von Mitgliedschaftsrechten in ihnen früher in der Regel ein-
fach als nicht ausdrücklich geregelter Unterfall der auswärtigen Gewalt
als der Regierung ohne institutionalisierte Mitwirkung etwaiger
Volksvertretungen vorbehalten zugerechnet.1 In erster Linie ökono-
misch induzierte Veränderungen in Bezug auf die erste dieser beiden
Grundannahmen hat Rüdiger Wolfrum schon früh für einige interna-
tionale Wirtschaftsorganisationen nachgezeichnet.2 Bei der zweiten
sind solche Veränderungen weniger außengesteuerten Entwicklungen
des Völkerrechts als der Binnenstruktur derartiger Organismen
geschuldet, wobei nationales und supranationales Verfassungsrecht
zusammenwirken, indem mit der Zunahme föderaler Elemente
die Forderung nach der Verstärkung demokratischer Legitimation
auf beiden Ebenen wächst. Denn wie ein Kennzeichen jeden

1
So noch J. Delbrück / R. Wolfrum, Völkerrecht I/1, 248 (1989). Vgl. auch Ch. Rath,
Die „unionswärtige Gewalt“ des Deutschen Bundestages, Demokratie in Europa: Zur
Rolle der Parlamente. Sonderheft Zeitschrift für Parlamentsfragen 1 114, 117 (1993).
2
R. Wolfrum, Neue Elemente im Willensbildungsprozess internationaler
Wirtschaftsorganisationen, Strukturelle Neuerungen in den Satzungen von IFAD,
UNIDO und Gemeinsamen Fonds, Vereinte Nationen 29, 50, 52 (1981); vgl. auch
ders., The Decision Making Process According to Sec.3 of the Annex to Implementation
Agreement. A Model to be followed for other International Economic Organisations?,
55 Zeitschrift für ausländisches öffentliches Recht und Völkerrecht 310 (1995).
66 jürgen jekewitz

Exekutivföderalismus die funktionale Kompetenzverflechtung zwi-

schen den Ebenen und die exekutive Besetzung des föderalen Organs
sind, besteht die Eigenart eines derartigen Exekutivrats dann wiede-
rum in einer Spannung zwischen Struktur und Funktion, wobei die
spezifische Systemlogik im Exekutivföderalismus Voraussetzung und
Bedingung für die jeweilige Lage der – nationalen wie organschaftli-
chen – volksgewählten Vertretungskörperschaften in einem solchen
System ist.3
Derartige Entwicklungen und Bedingungen verdrängend oder auch
nur übersehend scheint, nunmehr ausdrücklich auf die Europäische
Union gewendet, ein orthodoxes Verständnis der genannten beiden
Grundannahmen erneut in der Entscheidung des Bundesver­
fassungsgerichts (BVerfG) vom 30. Juni 2009 zum Vertrag von Lissabon
bzw. zu den ursprünglichen nationalen deutschen Begleitgesetzen auf,4
der jenseits aller inhaltlichen Kritik5 zurecht auch eine „quasi-völker-
rechtliche Argumentation“ vorgehalten worden ist,6 bei der die vom
Bundesverfassungsgericht entwickelte „Brückentheorie“ „im weitesten
Sinne … nichts anderes als eine etatistisch fokussierte Anverwandlung
der dualistischen Völkerrechtslehre im Kontext der europäischen
Integration“ sei.7 Das zeigt sich auch daran, dass, obwohl die
Entscheidung nicht nur in der Presse8 etwas voreilig als europäische
Sternstunde9 parlamentarischer Kontrolle gefeiert wurde, vor allem die
Parlamente darin eher schlecht wegkommen. So wird den Abgeordneten
des Europäischen Parlaments attestiert, „auf unabsehbare Zeit nicht
mehr zu sein als Ständevertreter, die sich als Vertreter territorial
fragmentierter Gruppen (der nationalen Völker) zusammenfinden“10,

    3
Ausführlich P. Dann, Parlamente im Exekutivföderalismus. Eine Studie zum
Verhältnis von föderaler Ordnung und parlamentarischer Demokratie in der
Europäischen Union (2004); vgl. auch die Besprechung in: 65 Zeitschrift für ausländi-
sches öffentliches Recht und Völkerrecht 795 (2005).
    4
2 BvE 2/08, 2 BvE 5/08, 2 BvR 1010/08, 2BvR 1022/08, 2 BvR 1259/08, 2
BvR 182/09, BVerfGE 123, 267 (2010), zit. mit den Randnummern der Internet-
Veröffentlichung.
    5
Vgl. nur die Beiträge von C. Schönberger, F. Schorkopf, D. Halberstam, C. Möllers
und C. Tomuschat, 10 German Law Journal 1201 (2009).
    6
R. Lhotta / J. Ketelhus, Integrationsverantwortung und parlamentarische
Demokratie: Das Bundesverfassungsgericht als Agent des „verfassten politischen
Primärraums“?, 40 Zeitschrift für Parlamentsfragen 864, 868 (2009)
    7
Id., 871.
    8
Vgl. etwa H. Prantl, Karlsruhe gibt Bundestag Macht über Europa, in: Süddeutsche
Zeitung vom 1. Juli 2009, 1.
    9
Id., 4.
10
So M. Nettesheim, Wie der König ersetzt wird, in: Frankfurter Allgemeine
Zeitung vom 14. Januar 2010, 8.
 der lange weg zur doppelten mehrheit im rat67

wenn schlicht verkündet wird, auch in Zukunft stelle das Parlament

nicht ein „durch gleiche Wahl aller Unionsbürger zustande gekomme-
nes politisches Entscheidungsorgan mit der Fähigkeit zur einheitlichen
Repräsentation des Volkswillens“11 dar. Wohlwollender werden auch
die Vertretungskörperschaften der Mitgliedstaaten nicht eingeschätzt,
wenn es in Bezug auf sie heißt, insgesamt sei die Stellung der nationa-
len Parlamente „durch die Verminderung von Einstimmigkeitsents­
cheidungen und die Supranationalisierung“ teilweise „erheblich
gemindert“, was durch „verfahrensrechtliche Einwirkungsmög­
lichkeiten und juristisch verfolgbare Beteiligungsansprüche“ nicht
kompensiert werden könne.12 Deutsches Verfassungsrecht in Form
einer aus einer Kombination von Art.79 Abs.3 mit Art.20 GG abgelei-
teten unaufgebbaren Staatsidentität verbiete zudem nicht nur allen
Staatsorganen grundsätzlich die Übertragung der Kompetenz-
Kompetenz: „Auch eine weitgehende Verselbständigung politischer
Herrschaft für die Europäische Union durch die Einräumung ständig
vermehrter Zuständigkeiten und eine allmähliche Überwindung noch
bestehender Einstimmigkeitserfordernisse oder bislang prägender
Regularien der Staatengleichheit kann aus der Sicht des deutschen
Verfassungsrechts allein aus der Handlungsfreiheit des selbstbestimm-
ten Volkes heraus geschehen“.13
In beiden Fällen ist es neben dem Argument der grundsätzlichen
Staatengleichheit das des Einstimmigkeitserfordernisses für Abstim­
mungsvorgänge im Rat der Europäischen Union als deren Exekuti­
vorgan, die vom Bundesverfassungsgericht als essentiell herausgestellt
werden. Dabei bezieht sich die beklagte „allmähliche Überwindung“
aktuell, das heißt im Kontext dieser Entscheidung, auf die besonde-
ren Brücken- und Flexibilisierungsklauseln, für deren Aktivierung
jeweils Einstimmigkeit im Rat erforderlich ist, und die nach ihrer
Inanspruchnahme dann teilweise als vertraglich als solche angelegte
institutionelle Einzelmaßnahme „verbraucht“ sind, im übrigen außer-
halb des ordentlichen Vertragsänderungsverfahrens die Zahl der ein-
stimmig zu treffenden Entscheidungen zugunsten der nach Art.16.
Abs.3 EUV in der Fassung von Lissabon ausdrücklich als „normal“
gewollten mit qualifizierter Mehrheit vermindern. Dass derartige
„Übergänge“ im Schnittpunkt zwischen völkervertragsrechtlicher
Souveränitätsübertragung und in dem einzelnen Mitgliedstaat dafür

11
S.o. Fn. 4.
12
Id., Rn. 293.
13
Id., Rn. 233.
68 jürgen jekewitz

vorgegebenen nationalen verfassungsrechtlichen Voraussetzungen kri-

tisch sind und besonderer Legitimation bedürfen, ist keine neue eigene
Erkenntnis des Bundesverfassungsgerichts, sondern bereits mit dem
Vertrag von Amsterdam von Europavertragsrechts wegen anerkannt
und durch Lissabon nur erneut und besonders hervorgehoben: Wenn
damals – etwa in Art. 190 und 269 EGV (alt) – für einige dieser
Maßnahmen ausdrücklich die Empfehlung an die Mitgliedstaaten aus-
gesprochen wurde, einen solchen Beschluss gemäß ihren verfassungs-
rechtlichen Vorschriften anzunehmen, so heißt es jetzt mehrfach,
dass ein entsprechender Beschluss „erst nach Zustimmung der
Mitgliedstaaten im Einklang mit ihren jeweiligen verfassungsrechtli-
chen Vorschriften in Kraft“ tritt, oder wie in Art.42 Abs.2 UAbs.1
EUV für die gemeinsame Verteidigung empfohlen wird, „einen
Beschluss in diesem Sinne im Einklang mit ihren verfassungsrechtli-
chen Vorschriften zu erlassen“. Das Bundesverfassungsgericht hat
lediglich die nach seiner Interpretation der von ihm so genann-
ten Integrationsverantwortung des Parlaments nach deutschem
Verfassungsrecht zwingend darunter fallenden Anwendungsbereiche
auch dort, wo kein entsprechender Hinweis in den Vertragstexten ent-
halten ist, akribisch herausgearbeitet; dem Deutschen Bundestag ist es
zu danken, dass er in kürzester Zeit als Kernstück eines nach der
Entscheidung des Gerichts erforderlich gewordenen neuen Gesetzes
über die Ausweitung und Stärkung der Rechte des Bundestages und
des Bundesrates in Angelegenheiten der Europäischen Union mit
einem eigenen Integrationsverantwortungsgesetz14 eng angelehnt an
die entsprechenden Passagen der Urteilsbegründung die Behandlung
der möglichen Anwendungsfälle institutionell und verfahrensmäßig
geregelt hat.15
Die Veto- und damit negative Gestaltungsmacht des einzelnen
Mitgliedsstaates, von der das Bundesverfassungsgericht bei der Unter­
werfung der meisten der nach dem Vertrag von Lissabon noch ein-
stimmig zu treffenden vertragsgestaltenden Entscheidungen unter
die Integrationsverantwortung des deutschen Parlaments offenbar

14
Gesetz über die Wahrnehmung der Integrationsverantwortung des Bundestages
und des Bundesrates in Angelegenheiten der Europäischen Union vom 22. September
2010, Bundesgesetzblatt I 2009, 3022.
15
Ausführlich dargestellt bei S. Hölscheidt / S. Menzenbach / B. Schröder, Das
Integrationsverantwortungsgesetz – ein Kurzkommentar, 40 Zeitschrift für Parla­
mentsfragen 758 (2009).
 der lange weg zur doppelten mehrheit im rat69

a­usging, ist allerdings nur bedingt gegeben. Auf der Linie der
Entwicklung des Völkergewohnheitsrechts, das Lockerungen bzw.
Modifikationen des strengen Einstimmigkeitserfordernis schon länger
kennt16 und freiwillige Stimmenthaltungen etwa im UN-Sicherheitsrat
nicht erst seit dem Namibia-Gutachten des Internationalen
Gerichtshofs17 als rechtlich gültige Zustimmung wertet, hatte das
Europäische Vertragsrecht in Bezug auf Abstimmungen im Rat für die
neben der Entscheidung mit einfacher Mehrheit und der mit qualifi-
zierter Mehrheit dritte Möglichkeit der Einstimmigkeit erneut in der
Fassung des Vertrags von Amsterdam unverändert in Art.205 Abs.3
EGV festgelegt, dass die Stimmenthaltung von anwesenden oder
vertretenen Mitgliedern dem Zustandekommen von Beschlüssen nicht
entgegensteht. Derselbe Wortlaut findet sich jetzt in Art.238 Abs.4
AEUV des Vertrages von Lissabon, der ihn in Art.235 Abs.1 UAbs.3
AUEV für entsprechende Beschlüsse des Europäischen Rates wieder-
holt. Eine diese Folge relativierende Modifikation war dann allerdings
in Bezug auf stets die Einstimmigkeit erfordernde Beschlüsse im
Rahmen der mit dem Amsterdamer Vertrag eingeführten Gemein­
samen Außen- und Sicherheitspolitik der Europäischen Union vorge-
sehen: Für diese galt nach Art.23 Abs.1 UAbs.1 EUV zwar dasselbe; ein
sich der Stimme enthaltendes Mitglied konnte aber zu seiner Enthaltung
eine förmliche Erklärung abgeben, dass es nicht verpflichtet sei, den
Beschluss durchzuführen, ihn jedoch als bindend für die Union
akzeptiere, hatte dann allerdings „im Geiste gegenseitiger Solidarität“
alles zu unterlassen, was dem auf dem Beschluss beruhenden Vorgehen
der Union zuwiderlaufen oder es behindern könnte. Wurde eine derar-
tige qualifizierte Stimmenthaltung von mehr als einem Drittel der
nach Art.205 Abs.2 EGV gewogenen Stimmen, also einer qualifizier-
ten Minderheit der qualifizierten Mehrheit der zweiten Abstim­
mungsregel der EU, in Anspruch genommen, war der Beschluss nicht
angenommen. Der Vertrag von Lissabon hat in Art.31 Abs.1 EUV
diese Bestimmung perpetuiert, Gesetzgebungsakte nunmehr aber aus-
drücklich davon ausgeschlossen, die Sperrminorität an den neuen

16
Vgl. die Nachweise bei C. Thiele, Regeln und Verfahren der Entscheidungsfindung
innerhalb von Staaten und Staatenverbindungen, 278 ff. mwN (2008).
17
 Legal Consequences for States of the Continued Presence of South Africa in
Namibia (South- West Africa) notwithstanding SC Res. 276 (1970), Advisory Opinion
of 21 June 1971, ICJ Reports 1971, paras. 21, 22. Vgl. dazu auch S. Azadon Tiewul,
Namibia and the Unanimity Principle in the Security Council, 11 University of Ghana
Law Journal 20 (1974).
70 jürgen jekewitz

Berechnungskriterien der Quoren für eine qualifizierte Mehrheit aus-

gerichtet und die Bedeutung der die Stimmenthaltungen begleitenden
Erklärungen als konstitutiv für das Nichterlassen des entsprechenden
Beschlusses bei Erreichen dieser Sperrminorität klargestellt.18
Mag in dem Nebeneinander der Regeln für Abstimmungen im Rat
der Europäischen Union von der einfachen Mehrheit mit einer einzi-
gen Stimme für jeden Mitgliedsstaat über die qualifizierte Mehrheit
mit gewogenen Stimmen und festgelegten Quoren für Abstim­
mungsmehrheiten wie Vetominderheiten bis hin zur Einstimmigkeit
auch eine gewisse Bedeutungshierarchie der auf die jeweils von
den Verträgen vorgeschriebenen eigenen Weise zu treffenden
Entscheidungen angelegt gewesen sein, so ist diese spätestens mit der
Aufgabe der Säulenstruktur durch den Vertrag von Lissabon unter
dem vom Bundesverfassungsgericht entwickelten Kriterium der
Integrationsverantwortung fragwürdig geworden. Bei allen jetzt noch
geforderten Einstimmigkeitsbeschlüssen könnte – außer im dargestell-
ten Sonderfall der Gemeinsamen Außen- und Sicherheitspolitik –
theoretisch eine einzige Ja-Stimme bei 26 Enthaltungen einen Beschluss
zustande kommen lassen.19 Wo das deutsche Parlament nach der
Entscheidung des Bundesverfassungsgerichts und dem sie umsetzen-
den Integrationsverantwortungsgesetz vorgängig beteiligt werden
muss, kann seine „Instruktion“ nur lauten, dass der deutsche Vertreter
im Rat dem Beschlussentwurf zustimmen kann bzw. darf, wozu der
Vorschlag regelmäßig von der Bundesregierung kommen wird, die
sich dazu ihrer Mehrheit im Parlament sicher sein muss. Es mag zwar
denkbar sein, dass auch eine Stimmenthaltung vorgeschlagen und
beschlossen wird.20 Das würde politische Meinungsunterschiede inner-
halb der Bundesregierung, wie sie wenige Tage vor dem Inkrafttreten
des Vertrags von Lissabon mit der Stimmenthaltung im Justiz- und
Innenrat durch den in dieser Frage nach der internen nationalen
Kompetenzverteilung zuständigen Bundesinnenminister bei der
Beschlussfassung über einen Vertrag der Europäischen Union
mit den USA über die Überlassung von grenzüberschreitenden
Kontenführungsdaten, das sogenannte Swift-Abkommen, zum Ärger

18
Ungenau und missverständlich insoweit Thiele (Fn. 16), 278.
19
So für die Situation vor Lissabon schon J.-P. Hix, in: J. Schwarze (Hrsg.),
EU-Kommentar, Art.205 EGV Rn. 10 (2000).
20
Vgl. am Beispiel der Inanspruchnahme der Flexibilitätsklausel Hölscheidt /
Menzenbach / Schröder (Fn. 15), 769.
 der lange weg zur doppelten mehrheit im rat71

der vom kleineren Koalitionspartner gestellten Bundesjustizministerin

überspielt wurden, zwar ins Parlament tragen, die Bundesregierung
aber eines politischen Instruments berauben.
Ohnehin waren die Vorgänge um das Zustandekommen dieses
zunächst befristeten Abkommens erhellend für den durch den Vertrag
von Lissabon herbeigeführten Paradigmenwechsel in der
Willensbildung der Europäischen Union. Eine Verschiebung der
Beschlussfassung im Rat um wenige Tage hätte den politischen Druck
von den Mitgliedstaaten genommen, wegen des jetzt nicht mehr
geltenden Einstimmigkeitserfordernisses trotz innerer Bedenken
oder gar Ablehnung in einer Stimmenthaltung Zuflucht vor dem
Blockadevorwurf zu suchen, sondern ihren Regierungen stattdessen
erlaubt, mit dem Risiko, im Bereich der gesamten Innen- und
Justizpolitik auf europäischer Ebene auch einmal überstimmt zu wer-
den, politisch ehrlicher zu argumentieren und zu entscheiden. Das ist
untrennbar verbunden mit der Verstärkung des Einflusses des
Europäischen Parlaments, das mit dem Vertrag von Lissabon auch in
den Politikfeldern der bisherigen Dritten Säule entscheidend mitbe-
stimmt. Nicht von ungefähr ist das durch Art.189b EGV der Verträge
von Maastricht eingeführte und in Art. 251 EGV der Fassung des
Vertrags von Amsterdam nur unwesentlich modifizierte besondere
„Kodezisionsverfahren“ von Rat und Europäischem Parlament durch
Art.289 Abs.1 AEUV zum „ordentlichen Gesetzgebungsverfahren“
geworden und hat in Art. 294 AEUV dafür seine eigene Ausgestaltung
einschließlich der im Konfliktsfall möglichen Anrufung eines am deut-
schen Vorbild orientierten Vermittlungsausschusses21 erhalten. Das
erklärt zunächst einmal die ablehnende Reaktion eben dieses
Parlamentes auf den noch rasch vor Wirksamwerden der neuen
Entscheidungsstrukturen getroffenen Beschluss des Rates, die nicht
allein als aus einer „institutionellen Stimmungslage heraus“22 entstan-
den erklärt werden kann, weil es sich durch den Termin der
Beschlussfassung um die Möglichkeit zur Wahrnehmung seiner Rechte
geprellt gefühlt hätte; es verdeutlicht aber auch, dass in Zukunft

21
Vgl. den Hinweis schon 1996 in dem Bericht der Bundesregierung über ihre
Bemühungen zur Stärkung der gesetzgeberischen Befugnisse des Europäischen
Parlaments, Bundestags-Drucksache 13/4212, zit. bei J. Jekewitz, Der Vermitt­
lungsausschuß, 32 Recht und Politik 171 (1996).
22
Vgl. dazu N. Busse, Die Mindestforderung. Das Europäische Parlament stellt
Bedingungen für ein neues Swift-Abkommen, in: Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung
vom 19. Dezember 2009, 10.
72 jürgen jekewitz

Debatten in diesen Politikfeldern grenzüberschreitend geführt und für

anschließend zu treffende Entscheidungen dazu zugleich Mehrheiten
im Europäischen Parlament organisiert werden müssen.23 Vor allem
macht es klar, dass die mit dem Vertrag von Lissabon neu einge-
führte „doppelte Mehrheit“ auch doppelt verstanden werden will,
nämlich einmal als endgültige institutionelle Verknüpfung der
Entscheidungsebenen Ministerrat und Europäisches Parlament und
dann als besondere Ausgestaltung der Mehrheitsfindung und
Mehrheitsbildung im Rat als solchem. Hier wird der eigentliche
Paradigmenwechsel stattgefunden haben, wenn ab 2014 die qualifi-
zierte Mehrheit neu definiert sein und ihre Hervorbringung neuen
Regeln folgen wird.
Das ist auch eine Frage der „gerechten Demokratie“,24 die
allerdings im Kleide der (Neu)Gestaltung der innereuropäischen
Machtverhältnisse daherkommt. Von daher rechtfertigt sich ein ver-
gleichender Blick auf die deutschen Verfassungsstrukturen und ihre
Entwicklung. Mag sich der deutsche Bundesrat in seiner aktuellen
Einbettung in das föderale Institutionengefüge des Grundgesetzes
auch nur sehr bedingt für eine Parallelsetzung mit dem Ministerrat der
Europäischen Union und dessen Stellung eignen, und lässt sich als
Schablone und Vorbild für dessen Zuordnung bis zu den Verträgen
von Maastricht und Amsterdam und in weiten Teilen auch noch bis zu
dem von Lissabon eher das Verfassungssystem der deutschen
Reichsverfassung von 1871 mit seiner zögerlichen, bis zu seinem
Untergang 1919 unvollkommenen Parlamentarisierung heranziehen,
so ist diese Vergleichsgröße inzwischen entfallen, weil der Rat in
Zukunft in einem neuen eigenen europäischen Kraftfeld mit
einem eigenen Weg zur stärker demokratischen Legitimation von
Entscheidungen tätig werden wird. Insoweit gibt es durchaus doch bei
beiden Institutionen Parallelen in Entstehung und Entwicklung, die
den nachstehenden ausführlichen historischen Rückblick rechtferti-
gen. Gemeinsam ist ihnen, dass die gefundenen Gewichtungen nie
alle Betroffenen befriedigten, mit Anwachsen der Zahl der Beteiligten
die Binnendifferenzierung und damit Spreizung immer schwieriger
wurde, und Diskussionen über eine Veränderung stets auch mit Blick

23
Vgl. etwa S. Leutheusser-Schnarrenberger, Liberale Rechtspolitik 2.0 – Das
Programm der neuen Bundesregierung, 46 Recht und Politik 1 (2010).
24
So R. Zippelius in seinen – wortgleichen – Leserbriefen, in: Frankfurter
Allgemeine Zeitung vom 18. Juni 2007, 8, und in: Die Welt vom 25. Juni 2007, 9.
 der lange weg zur doppelten mehrheit im rat73

auf rechnerisch mögliche Mehrheitsverhältnisse und potenzielle

Vetogruppierungen geführt wurden.

B. Der Bundesrat des deutschen Grundgesetzes und seine

Vorgänger in der deutschen Verfassungsgeschichte25

Von den Reichstagen des Deutschen Reiches des ausgehenden

Mittelalters über die Bundesversammlung beziehungsweise den
Bundestag des Deutschen Bundes der Zeit nach 1815, die General­
konferenz des deutschen Zollvereins, den Bundesrat des Norddeutschen
Bundes von 1867 und den des Bismarckschen Kaiserreichs von 1871
sowie schließlich den Reichsrat der Weimarer Republik von 1919
lässt sich eine Linie zu der organschaftlichen Vertretung der Länder
im Bundesrat des Grundgesetzes ziehen.26 Auf dieser Linie sind
auch schon früh bei aller grundsätzlichen Gleichwertigkeit und
Gleichrangigkeit der einzelnen Mitglieder institutionelle Abstufungen
in der Zuordnung und Gewichtung des Einflusses bei der institutiona-
lisierten gemeinsamen Willensbildung nachzuweisen.
So standen in der Bundesversammlung der Deutschen Bundesakte
als Gesandtenkongress der Fürsten und der Senate der Freien Städte
bei Abstimmungen im Plenum Österreich, Preußen und den ande-
ren beteiligten Königreichen je vier Stimmen, den freien Städten
dagegen nur jeweils eine Stimme zu; in der engeren Versammlung
beziehungsweise dem engeren Rat war in der Weise differenziert,
dass den großen Mitgliedstaaten je eine Stimme, insgesamt elf soge-
nannte Virilstimmen, den übrigen, jeweils in Gruppen zusammenge-
fassten Mitgliedstaaten wiederum nur insgesamt sechs Kurialstimmen
zukamen. Außerdem war der Einfluss der Mitgliedstaaten durch
die Zuerkennung unterschiedlicher Stimmenquotienten gesteuert,
indem in jenen Angelegenheiten, in denen die engere Versammlung
zur Beschlussfassung zuständig war, allein die absolute Mehrheit, im

25
Die Darstellung nimmt im Folgenden den Text bei J. Jekewitz, Gewichtet und
gewogen. Die Diskussion um Verteilung und Gewichtung der Stimmen im Ministerrat
der EU: Ein typisches Konfliktsfeld des Exekutivföderalismus, 43 Recht und Politik
202, 203 (2007) noch einmal auf.
26
J. Jekewitz, in: R. Wassermann (Hrsg.), Alternativ-Kommentar zum Grundgesetz
– AK-GG -, vor Art.50 Rn.2 mwN. (2002). Vgl. zum Folgenden auch aktuell K. Reuter,
Praxishandbuch Bundesrat, Teil II: Vorläufer des Bundesrates Rn. 1 bis 53 (2. Aufl.
2007).
74 jürgen jekewitz

Plenum dagegen eine Zweidrittelmehrheit der Abstimmenden erreicht

werden musste; in einigen, für die Gesamtheit als besonders wichtig
hervorgehobenen Entscheidungsthemen wie der Annahme und
Abänderung der Grundgesetze und Aufnahme neuer Mitglieder war
sogar Einstimmigkeit gefordert, bestand also ein Vetorecht eines jeden
Mitgliedstaates.27
Entsprechend dem Selbstverständnis als auf der Ebene des
Völkerrechts organisiertem Staatenbündnis kannte die Generalkon­
ferenz der „Conferenz-Bevollmächtigten“ des Deutschen Zollvereins
von 1833 dann wieder allein die Einstimmigkeit bei einer Stimme für
jeden Bevollmächtigten, die nach Weisung der jeweiligen Regierung
abzugeben war. Eine differenzierte Abstufung enthielt dagegen wieder
die Paulskirchenverfassung von 1849 in ihrem Vorschlag für das
zusammen mit einem das gesamte Staatsvolk repräsentierenden
Abgeordnetenhaus aus direkt gewählten Volksvertretern den Reichstag
konstituierenden Staatenhaus aus Vertretern der deutschen Staaten,
die zur Hälfte von deren Regierungen bestimmt, zur anderen Hälfte
von den dortigen Volksvertretungen gewählt werden sollten: Von 40
Mitgliedern für Preußen und 38 für Österreich über 18 für Bayern, je
zehn für Sachsen, Hannover und Württemberg, neun für Baden, je
sechs für Kurhessen, das Großherzogtum Hessen und Holstein sowie
vier, drei oder zwei Mitglieder für eine Reihe kleinerer Staaten bis zu 23
Staaten, darunter die verbliebenen Freien Städte, mit nur einem
Mitglied staffelten sich die vorgesehenen insgesamt 192 Sitze. „Solange
die deutsch-österreichischen Landes an dem Bundesstaate nicht teil-
nehmen“, sollten die für sie reservierten Stimmen nach einem festge-
legten Schema auf neun andere Staaten von Bayern bis Hamburg
verteilt werden.28
Nicht bei diesem Staatenhaus, sondern über die zwischenzeitli-
che Verfassungsdiskussion zurückgreifend bei der alten Bundesver­
sammlung29 knüpfte der in der Absicht einer institutionellen und

27
 H.U. Erichsen, Verfassungsrechtsgeschichtliche Prolegomena zur Bestimmung
von Standort und Funktion des Bundesrates, in: Der Bundesrat als Verfassungsorgan
und politische Kraft, 14 mwN. (1974). Vgl. auch schon J. Jekewitz, Die Stimmenver­
teilung im Bundesrat nach dem Einigungsvertrag, 27 Recht und Politik 97 (1991).
28
Vgl. den Wortlaut von Art.87 FRV, abgedruckt etwa bei S. Henrichs, in: I. von
Münch / P. Kunig (Hrsg.) Grundgesetz. Kommentar, Art.51 (5.Aufl. 2001). Bei J.-D.
Kühne, Die Reichsverfassung der Paulskirche. Vorbild und Verwirklichung im späte-
ren deutschen Rechtsleben (2. Aufl. 1997) ist dieser Aspekt durchgehend nicht
angesprochen.
29
 T. Eschenburg, Bundesrat – Reichsrat – Bundesrat. Verfassungsvorstellungen und
Verfassungswirklichkeit. In: Der Bundesrat (Fn. 27), 39.
 der lange weg zur doppelten mehrheit im rat75

organisatorischen Verdichtung der Zentralgewalt gegründete

Norddeutsche Bund von 1867 – und in seinem Schlepptau der revi-
dierte Zollverein – an, wenn er als Träger der Bundesgewalt die Gesamt­
heit der einzelnen Mitglieder des Bundes, das heißt der Souveräne der
monarchischen Staaten und der Senate als Verkörperung der souverä-
nen Gewalt der Freien Städte, verstand, die sie durch ihre Vertreter in
einem Bundesrat ausübten.30 Entsprechend kleiner war dessen
Gesamtstimmenzahl. Im Verhältnis der Mitgliedstaaten zueinander
wurde der Bedeutung Preußens durch Zuerkennung von insgesamt 17
der 48 in diesem Föderativorgan vorgesehenen Stimmen Rechnung
getragen, indem ihm unter Berufung auf die – angeblichen –
Vorschriften „für das Plenum des ehemaligen Deutschen Bundes“ die
früheren Stimmen von Hannover, Kurhessen, Holstein, Nassau und
Frankfurt zugeschlagen wurden.31 Der Bundesrat entschied zwar mit
einfacher Mehrheit, so dass Preußen mit seinem Stimmenpaket nicht
allein Entscheidungen herbeiführen konnte; jedoch war ihm mit dieser
Stimmengewichtung und der der mit ihr verbundenen Sperrminorität
bei Verfassungsänderungen die Führungsrolle garantiert.
Daran änderte sich auch nichts, als durch die Novemberverträge in
Verbindung mit dem Gesetz betreffend die Verfassung des Deutschen
Reiches der Norddeutsche Bund 1871 um die süddeutschen Staaten
erweitert und zum Deutschen Reich umgewandelt wurde. Das Prinzip,
durch eine Stimmwägung im Bundesrat eine Gewichtung der in die
Willensbildung eingehenden partikularen Interessen zu gewährleisten,
blieb unberührt. Allein die Verteilung der jetzt 58 Stimmen verschob
sich: Preußen behielt seine 17 Stimmen; Bayern erhielt sechs,
Württemberg vier und Baden drei Stimmen, so dass mit zusammen 14
Stimmen auch die übrigen drei Königreiche über eine eigene
Sperrminorität verfügten, aber ebenso wenig wie Preußen allein eine
Entscheidung treffen oder verhindern konnten.32 Obwohl im Verhältnis
zu seinem Bevölkerungsanteil stark unterrepräsentiert, dominierte
Preußen jedoch weiter beziehungsweise jetzt erst recht, weil es durch
die politische Abhängigkeit der nord- und mitteldeutschen Kleinstaaten
faktisch über mehr als die auf dem Papier zuerkannten Stimmen ver-
fügte. Trotzdem oder gerade deswegen tauchte in der Endphase des
Kaiserreichs noch einmal ein Gedanke auf, wie er später in anderer

30
Jekewitz (Fn. 26), Rn. 3.
31
Erichsen (Fn. 27), 20; S. u. Fn. 72 mit Nachweisen zur zeitgenössischen Kritik an
einem solchen Vorgehen.
32
Erichsen (Fn. 27), 23; Eschenburg (Fn. 29), 40.
76 jürgen jekewitz

Form auf der europäischen Ebene eine Rolle spielen sollte. Bei der
Debatte über eine Änderung des Art.11 der Reichsverfassung und die
damit intendierte Einführung parlamentarischer Verantwortung der
Reichsregierung in der letzten Sitzung des Reichstags im Oktober 1918
wurde auch mit den Stimmverhältnissen im Bundesrat argumentiert:
Die preußischen Stimmen seien der Zahl nach sehr ungünstig im
Bundesrat festgesetzt; sie machten nur drei Zehntel der gesamten
Bundesratsstimmen aus, während Preußen drei Fünftel der
Bevölkerung des Deutschen Reiches umfasse; soweit als „Gegen­
leistung“ der preußische Ministerpräsident stets zugleich in
Personalunion Reichskanzler sei, werde das konterkariert, wenn letzte-
rer in Zukunft von einer Mehrheit im Reichstag abhängig sei.33
Nachdem sich bereits in der Zeit zwischen Revolution und
Zusammentritt der Nationalversammlung, auch als Reaktion der
Länder auf die unitarischen Bestrebungen eines ersten Entwurfs für
eine neue Reichsverfassung, mit Duldung der Volksbeauftragten ein
vorläufiger „Staatenausschuss“ nach Art des früheren Bundesrates und
mit dessen Stimmenverhältnissen konstituiert hatte,34 rechtfertigte
auch Hugo Preuß als maßgeblicher Verfasser die in § 22 des Gesetzes
über die vorläufige Reichsgewalt35 enthaltene gleichnamige Institution
mit ihrer Ähnlichkeit mit dem Vorgänger, allerdings nicht ohne einzu-
schränken: „Das Stimmverhältnis, das für den Staatenausschuss vorge-
sehen ist, kommt zwar auch dem im früheren Bundesrat ungemein
nahe, ist aber auf die Bevölkerungszahl im großen ganzen gegründet
und wird also einige Abweichungen von der Stimmverteilung, wie sie
früher im Bundesrat war, mit sich bringen, aber unbedeutende
Abweichungen“.36 In Wirklichkeit war durch die Umstellung auf
mindestens eine Stimme für jeden „Freistaat“ als Reminiszenz an völ-
kerrechtliche Strukturen, bei den größeren Gliedstaaten dann aber
schon auf je eine Stimme für jede Million Landesbewohner, „wobei
ein Überschuss, der mindestens der Einwohnerzahl des kleinsten

33
Abg. von Graefe, Stenografische Berichte des Reichstags XIII Legislaturperiode
2.Session/197.Sitzung/28. Oktober 1918 6283A.
34
Eschenburg (Fn. 29), 43.
35
Gesetz über die vorläufige Reichsgewalt, vom 10. Februar 1919, Reichsgesetzblatt
169 (1919).
36
Stenografische Berichte der Nationalversammlung, 3.Sitzung/8. Februar
1919/14C. Zur Vorgeschichte vgl. W. Jellinek, Die Nationalversammlung und ihr Werk,
in: G. Anschütz / R. Thoma (Hrsg.) Handbuch des Deutschen Staatsrechts Bd. I, 119,
124 (1930).
 der lange weg zur doppelten mehrheit im rat77

Freistaates gleichkommt, einer vollen Million gleich gerechnet wird“,

durchaus eine Veränderung der Zusammensetzung bedingt. Denn der
kleinste Freistaat zählte nur 46.000 Einwohner. Zwar gab es die gegen
Preußen gerichtete weitere Bestimmung, dass kein Freistaat durch
mehr als ein Drittel aller Stimmen vertreten sein dürfe. Trotzdem ver-
fügte Preußen so über zwei Stimmen mehr als im alten Bundesrat,
Bayern und Sachsen über je eine zusätzliche Stimme, während das
Stimmgewicht von Württemberg, Hessen, Mecklenburg-Schwerin und
Braunschweig sich um je eine Stimme verringerte.37
Entgegen den Intentionen von Hugo Preuß, dessen Pläne für einen
dezentralisierten demokratischen Einheitsstaat nicht nur ein
Staatenhaus mit von den Landtagen zu wählenden Vertretern nach
dem Muster der Frankfurter Reichsverfassung vorgesehen hatten,38
sondern auch von einer Neugliederung Deutschlands durch Aufteilung
Preußens und Zusammenlegung kleinerer Mitgliedstaaten ausge­
gangen waren, wurde dieser „Staatenausschuss“ in der Weimarer
Reichsverfassung als „Reichsrat“ zur Vertretung der jetzt so genannten
Länder festgeschrieben. Dabei wurde die Rolle Preußens dadurch wei-
ter neutralisiert, dass die Höchststimmenzahl für das einzelne Land
auf zwei Fünftel aller Stimmen festgesetzt wurde und damit jetzt über
der Schwelle der Sperrminorität lag, Preußen aber nicht mehr als
zwei Drittel der nichtpreußischen Stimmen haben durfte. Zusätzlich
wurde auf Antrag der Linken in Anknüpfung an die Frankfurter
Reichsverfassung und die ursprüngliche Absicht von Preuß in einer
eigenen Verfassungsbestimmung niedergelegt, dass die Hälfte der
Preußen nach dieser Berechnungsmethode zustehenden Vertreter
von den dortigen Provinzverwaltungen zu wählen seien und dem
Instruktionsrecht der preußischen Regierung damit entzogen waren.
Eine im ersten Entwurf enthaltene Bestimmung, wonach nach
einer Respektsfrist von drei Jahren die kleinen Länder unter einer
Million ihr Stimmrecht verlieren sollten, wurde dagegen im
Verfassungsausschuss gestrichen; stattdessen wurde eine in dritter
Lesung von der Nationalversammlung übernommene Resolution
beschlossen, welche die Reichsregierung ersuchte, alsbald in eine
Prüfung und Verhandlung einzutreten, ob und inwieweit die kleinen
Staaten unter einer Million Einwohner durch verfassungsänderndes

37
Jellinek (Fn. 36), 25.
38
Ausführlich W. Jellinek, Insbesondere Entstehung und Ausbau der Weimarer
Reichsverfassung, in: Anschütz / Thoma (Fn. 36), 127.
78 jürgen jekewitz

Reichsgesetz beseitigt werden könnten, und diese Vereinigung der

kleineren Staaten von Reichs wegen zu vermitteln.39
Lediglich die acht thüringischen Kleinstaaten schlossen sich jedoch
bei gleichzeitiger Angliederung Coburgs an Bayern im Mai 1920 zu
einem Land Thüringen zusammen,40 wodurch die Zahl der Länder von
25 auf 17 sank. Bei Anwendung einer allein auf der Einwohnerzahl
basierenden Berechnung hätte Preußen von den jetzt 55
Reichsratsstimmen mehr als die Hälfte zugestanden; durch die
Kappungsregelung wurde das auf 22 reduziert, was wiederum nicht
ausreichte, jede der 13 preußischen Provinzen an deren hälftiger
Besetzung zu beteiligen. Deshalb wurde durch verfassungsänderndes
Gesetz vom 24. März 1921 in Art.61 Abs.1 Satz 2 und 3 der Weimarer
Reichsverfassung der Zahlenquotient für die größeren Länder von eine
Million auf 700.000 herab- und die Gleichsetzungsgrenze bei einem
Überschuss auf 350.000 Einwohner heraufgesetzt. Dadurch stieg die
Zahl der preußischen Stimmen auf 26, nach der Volkszählung 1925
sogar auf 27, um nach der Vereinigung Waldecks mit Preußen im
Dezember 1928 und der dadurch bedingten Verminderung der
Gesamtstimmenzahl erneut auf 26 zu sinken. Denn Mecklenburg-
Schwerin, Oldenburg, Braunschweig, Anhalt, Bremen, Lippe, Lübeck,
Mecklenburg-Strelitz und Schaumburg-Lippe als die neuen kleinsten
Länder führten je zwei, auf Baden entfielen drei, auf Württemberg vier,
auf Sachsen sieben und auf Bayern elf Stimmen. Da die höchste ganze
Zahl, die zwei Drittel von 40 nicht übersteigt, 26 ist, blieb Preußen
auf diese Stimmenzahl beschränkt, wodurch wiederum die Gesamt­
stimmenzahl im Reichsrat auf 66 festgelegt war.41 Durch die Zweifünftel-
Schranke und die häufig eintretende Spaltung seiner Stimmen als Folge
der Sonderstellung der von seinen Provinziallandtagen bestellten
Vertreter konnte Preußen beziehungsweise die preußische Staats­
regierung sich als „doppelt zurückgesetzt“ empfinden.42
Durch die Gesetze zur Gleichschaltung der Länder mit dem Reich
vom 31. März und 7 April 1933, das Gesetz über den Neuaufbau des
Reiches vom 30. Januar 1934 und das über die Abschaffung des

39
O. Meißner, Das neue Staatsrecht des Reiches und der Länder, 101 (1921).
40
O. Koellreuther, Die neuen Landesverfassungen, in: Anschütz / Thoma (Fn. 36),
138, 141.
41
G. Anschütz, Weimarer Reichsverfassung. Kommentar, 339 (14. Aufl. 1933).
42
Einzelheiten bei C. Bilfinger, Der Reichsrat. Bedeutung und Zusammensetzung.,
in: Anschütz / Thoma (Fn. 36), 545, 553.
 der lange weg zur doppelten mehrheit im rat79

Reichsrats vom 14. Februar 1934 fanden die Diskussionen um dessen

Struktur und Zusammensetzung ein abruptes Ende.43 Aktuell wurde
die Frage nach Organisation und Stellung eines Föderativorgans in
Deutschland erst wieder44 mit den Beratungen zum Grundgesetz,45 für
die als Konsequenz aus der gespaltenen Interessenlage quer durch
die westdeutschen Länder der Herrenchiemseer Konvent zwei
Varianten vorschlug, nach denen sich auch die Kompetenzen und
Befugnisse richten würden: Eine für eine Bundesratslösung nach
dem Vorbild des Kaiserreichs und eine für eine Senatslösung in
einer Kombination von Elementen des Reichsrats der Weimarer
Verfassung und des Staatenhauses der Verfassung der Frankfurter
Nationalversammlung. Das bedingte Unterschiede in Zusammen­
setzung und Rekrutierungsverfahren: In einem Bundesrat sollten bei
einem „Grundmandat“ von mindestens einem Mitglied je Land Länder
mit mehr als zwei Millionen Einwohnern durch drei Mitglieder, Länder
mit mehr als vier Millionen Einwohnern durch drei Mitglieder ihrer
jeweiligen Landesregierung vertreten sein: in einem Senat sollte jedes
Land mindestens einen, höchstens fünf auf die Dauer der Wahlperiode
des Bundestages als der nationalen Volksvertretung in den Landtagen,
also den Volksvertretungen auf Länderebene, nach den Verhältnissen
der in ihnen vertretenen Parteien zu wählende Senatoren entsenden,
wobei auf 1,5 Millionen Landeseinwohner ein Senator entfallen und
ein Überschuss, der sich auf mehr als 750.000 Einwohner belief, dieser
Zahl gleichgerechnet werden würde. Groß-Berlin sollte nach beiden
Modellen das Recht haben, bis zur Aufnahme in den Bund zwei
Mitglieder in den Bundesrat zu delegieren.46
Die bewegte Geschichte der Entscheidung im Parlamentarischen
Rat zugunsten der Bundesratslösung einschließlich der legendären
„Frühstückseinigung“ zwischen dem bayerischen Ministerpräsidenten
Hans Ehard für die CSU wie zugleich für die CDU als deren größerer
Schwesterpartei und dem in einer Koalition mit eben dieser CDU wir-
kenden nordrhein-westfälischen Innenminister Walter Menzel für
die SPD, also den beiden damals bedeutendsten politischen

43
Nachweise bei Erichsen (Fn. 27), 31; Eschenburg (Fn. 29), 51.
44
Zu Zwischenregelungen für die vier Länder der amerikanischen Besatzungszone
und dann das Vereinigte Wirtschaftsgebiet aus amerikanischer und britischer Zone
vor 1948 vgl. Jekewitz (Fn. 27), 100.
45
Zu den Vorgaben von außen und innen dazu statt vieler Id., 101.
46
Vgl. die Nachweise in Jahrbuch des öffentlichen Rechts Bd.1, 318 (1950).
80 jürgen jekewitz

Gruppierungen, ist immer wieder geschildert worden.47 Ebenso streitig

diskutiert wie die Grundfrage wurde dabei die Zusammensetzung:
Weil über einen Bundesrat allein die jeweilige Mehrheit in den einzel-
nen Ländern, das heißt die von ihr gestellte Regierung unabhängig von
ihrer Zusammensetzung und ihrem Gewicht Einfluss auf die
Bundespolitik nehmen können würde, war von der SPD eine für alle
Länder unabhängig von ihrer Größe gleiche Sitz- beziehungsweise
Stimmenzahl gefordert worden, während CDU und CSU die
Zustimmung von einer an der Bevölkerungszahl orientierten, gestaf-
felten und nach oben nicht durch eine Kappung begrenzten
Zusammensetzung abhängig gemacht wurde. Als Kompromiss, der
auch durch die nüchterne Einschätzung der damals noch gegebenen
Vorrangstellung der großen Parteien in den unterschiedlich großen
Ländern beziehungsweise Stadtstaaten befördert war, wurden schließ-
lich jedem Land drei Stimmen zuerkannt, die sich für Länder mit mehr
als zwei Millionen Einwohnern auf vier, mit mehr als sechs Millionen
Einwohnern auf fünf erhöhten. Mit dieser dann in Art. 51 Abs.2 des
Grundgesetzes festgeschriebenen Regelung war eine völlige, die unter-
schiedlichen Ländergrößen außer acht lassende Gleichstellung vermie-
den, durch die verhältnismäßig hohe Grundstimmenzahl aber erstmals
das numerische Gefälle zwischen großen und kleinen Ländern gemil-
dert.48 Dabei sollte die in Art. 51 Abs.3 des Grundgesetzes verankerte
Pflicht zur einheitlichen Stimmabgabe für jedes Land garantieren, dass
bei unterschiedlichen Regierungskoalitionen in den einzelnen Ländern
oder in Bund und Ländern politische Kontroversen nicht zu Lasten des
eigenen Landes im Bundesrat ausgetragen, sondern bereits vorher in
der Landesregierung entschärft würden.49 Vor Verwirklichung des
Neugliederungsauftrages in Art.118 des Grundgesetzes für den

47
Aus der Frühzeit vgl. Id., 384; sowie H. Schäfer, Der Bundesrat 15, 24; vor allem
aber R. Morsey, Die Entstehung des Bundesrates, in: Der Bundesrat (Fn. 27), 63; auch
ders., Verfassungsschöpfung unter Besatzungsherrschaft. Die Entstehung des
Grundgesetzes im Parlamentarischen Rat, Die öffentliche Verwaltung 471, 477 (1989);
ausführlich dann K.-H. Niclauß, Der Weg zum Grundgesetz: Demokratiegründung in
Westdeutschland 1945–1949, 211, 224 (1998).
48
Jekewitz (Fn. 26), Art. 51, Rn. 7.
49
Zu den Verfahren vgl. Id., Rn. 10. Dass das nicht immer gelang, führte 2002
beim Zuwanderungsgesetz zu der Entscheidung des Bundesverfassungsgerichts in
BVerfGE 106, 310, 330. Vgl. dazu einerseits H. Bauer, Verfassungspoker im Bundesrat,
38 Recht und Politik 70 (1992); andererseits J. Jekewitz, Der Streit um das
Zuwanderungsgesetz, 38 Recht und Politik 83, beide auch abgedruckt in: H. Meyer
(Hrsg.), Abstimmungskonflikt im Bundesrat im Spiegel der Staatsrechtslehre (2003).
 der lange weg zur doppelten mehrheit im rat81

Südwestraum und vor Wiedereingliederung des Saargebietes als

Saarland ergab sich damit ein relatives Stimmgleichgewicht zwischen
kleinen, mittleren und großen Ländern wie zwischen Nord- und
Süddeutschland,50 aber auch zwischen den großen politischen
Gruppierungen: Es gab vier Länder, nämlich Baden. Bremen, Hamburg
und Württemberg-Hohenzollern, mit je drei Stimmen, fünf Länder,
nämlich Berlin, Hessen, Schleswig-Holstein, Rheinland-Pfalz und
Württemberg-Baden, mit je vier sowie drei Länder, nämlich Bayern,
Nordrhein-Westfalen und Niedersachsen, mit je fünf Stimmen; poli-
tisch verteilten sich die Gewichte zwischen einem eher sozialdemokra-
tisch geprägten Norden und einem etwas stärkeren und damit die
Bundesratsmehrheit stellenden christdemokratisch-liberal dominier-
ten Süden.
Eine erste Verschiebung trat 1952 durch die Vereinigung der Länder
Baden, Württemberg-Baden und Württemberg-Hohenzollern zum
Land Baden-Württemberg ein: Die Gruppe der kleinsten Länder ver-
ringerte sich von vier auf zwei, die der mittleren um eins auf vier
Mitglieder bei Zuwachs der Gruppe der großen um ein weiteres Land.
Dabei halbierte sich das regionale Stimmgewicht des Südwestens: Statt
bisher mit zusammen zehn Stimmen war er jetzt nur noch mit fünf im
Bundesrat vertreten. Bereits damals wurde deshalb argumentiert, das,
wenn etwa die Neugliederung des Bundesgebietes nach dem damali-
gen Art.29 des Grundgesetzes dazu führen werde, dass eine Gruppe
völlig verschwinden oder die Gruppe der großen Länder im Verhältnis
zu den anderen übermächtig würde, die Regelung des Art. 51 Abs.2 des
Grundgesetzes einer Revision unterzogen werden müsse.51 Ein erstes
Neugliederungsgutachten einer Kommission unter Vorsitz des frühe-
ren Reichskanzlers Luther wie sechs erfolgreiche von insgesamt acht
1956 als Konsequenz daraus eingeleitete Volksbegehren verliefen
jedoch im Sand: Die von der Verfassung jetzt eigentlich vorgeschriebe-
nen Schritte seitens des Bundesgesetzgebers unterblieben, wie auch
spätere Bemühungen um eine Neugliederung keinen Erfolg zeitigten.52
Eine Veränderung der Zusammensetzung des Bundesrates brachte in
der Folge zunächst nur 1957 die Rückgliederung des Saarlandes, durch
die die Gruppe der kleinen Länder um ein Mitglied und die Gesamtzahl
der Stimmen im Bundesrat um drei auf nunmehr 45 anstieg. Da nach

50
Schäfer (Fn. 47), 41, dort auch Nachweise früher Kritik.
51
Id., 41.
52
Zu Einzelheiten vgl. Jekewitz (Fn. 27), 103.
82 jürgen jekewitz

den alliierten Vorbehalten von 1949, die auch bei den Verhandlungen
über das Viermächteabkommen 1971 nicht hatten abgelöst werden
können, die Berliner Vertreter bei Akten der Ausübung von
Bundesgewalt nicht stimmberechtigt waren, verringerte sich die Zahl
der ausschlaggebenden Sitze auf 41, so dass 21 Stimmen genügten, um
im Bundesrat eine Mehrheit zu erreichen.53
Diese Situation änderte sich mit dem Mauerfall und in seiner
Folge der Wiedervereinigung im Jahre 1990. Die Alliierten erkannten
das volle Stimmrecht der Vertreter Berlins an, und die Vereinigung
der beiden deutschen Staaten erfolgte auf der Grundlage der
Inanspruchnahme des Beitrittrechts des damaligen Art.23 Satz 2 des
Grundgesetzes durch fünf auf dem Gebiet der bisherigen DDR wieder-
errichtete Länder.54 Deren Zuschnitt machte bereits deutlich, dass bei
Beibehaltung des geltenden Berechnungsmodus die bisherigen 45
Stimmen im Bundesrat sich nicht höchstens fünf neuen für eine als
Ganzes beitretende DDR, sondern dem Mehrfachen davon gegenüber-
sehen würden, obwohl die Gesamteinwohnerzahl dort in etwa nur der
von Nordrhein-Westfalen als dem bevölkerungsstärksten Bundesland
gleichkam. Das musste die westdeutschen Ministerpräsidenten auf den
Plan rufen, die in Ziffer 5 einer Gemeinsamen Erklärung vom 5. Juli
199055 eine Korrektur der Stimmverteilung im Bundesrat forderten;
parallel dazu sprach ein Grundsatzpapier einer Unterkommission
der Rechts- und Innenpolitischen Kommission beim Parteivorstand
der SPD die Option zur Bildung größerer, leistungsfähigerer Länder,
und in diesem Zusammenhang auch die Änderung des Art.51 des
Grundgesetzes und damit der Stimmenzahlen im Bundesrat an.56
Noch in die Verhandlungen über den Einigungsvertrag hinein
brachten Baden-Württemberg und Bayern einen entsprechenden
Gesetzentwurf im Bundesrat ein,57 dem sich Hessen später anschloss.
Mit der Begründung, dass bei Beibehaltung des geltenden Maßstabs
die vorhandene Ausgewogenheit der Stimmen zwischen großen,
mittleren und kleinen Ländern entscheidend verändert, vor allem
die großen bevölkerungsreichen Flächenstaaten unverhältnismäßig an

53
Jekewitz (Fn. 48), Rn. 8.
54
Zu Einzelheiten, auch zur Vorgeschichte der Länder in der DDR, vgl. Jekewitz
(Fn. 27), 104 mwN; auch E. Busch, Die Stimmenverteilung im Bundesrat, Zeitschrift
für Gesetzgebung 307 (1990); sowie Reuter (Fn. 26), Rn. 53.
55
Abgedruckt in: 21 Zeitschrift für Parlamentsrecht 461, 463 (1990).
56
Abgedruckt in: 36 Recht und Politik 207 (1990).
57
Bundesrats-Drucksache 551/90 (1990).
 der lange weg zur doppelten mehrheit im rat83

Stimmgewicht einbüßen und ihre Sperrminorität gegen Verfassungs­

änderungen verlieren, die neu gebildeten Länder auf dem Gebiet der
bisherigen DDR zusammen mit den unveränderten vier Stimmen für
Berlin eine derartige Sperrminorität dagegen erhalten würden, war
darin eine stärkere „Spreizung“ dergestalt angestrebt, dass bei einer
unveränderten Mindestzahl von drei Stimmen ein Land bei zwei bis
drei Millionen Einwohnern – wie bisher – vier Stimmen, bei einer –
neuen – Zwischenstufe von drei bis fünf Millionen bereits sechs und
bei mehr als sieben Millionen sogar sieben Stimmen erhalten sollte.
Nach den aktuellen Einwohnerzahlen und darauf basierenden
Berechnungen hätte sich die Gesamtstimmenzahl im Bundesrat auf 79,
eventuell 80 oder 81 erhöht; profitiert hätten davon in erster Linie die
vier großen Altländer, die jeweils auf sieben Stimmen gekommen
wären. Da Nordrhein-Westfalen sich dabei nicht angemessen berück-
sichtigt sah, brachte es einen eigenen Antrag ein, der bei identischer
Begründung sich enger an die geltende Regelung anlehnte und deren
Staffelung lediglich nach oben erweitert sehen wollte, indem ein Land
mit mehr als sieben Millionen Einwohnern sechs, mit mehr als zehn
Millionen sieben und mit mehr als 15 Millionen acht Stimmen erhal-
ten sollte.58 Bei einer dann nur auf 71 Stimmen steigenden Gesamtzahl
hätten zwar ebenfalls vor allem die großen Länder ihren Anteil erwei-
tert, aber Baden-Württemberg und Niedersachsen nur um je eine,
Bayern um zwei und Nordrhein-Westfalen dagegen um drei Stimmen,
was wiederum den anderen nicht gefallen konnte.
Die Lösung sollte ein Kompromiss zwischen beiden Anträgen brin-
gen, indem der zuerst eingebrachte Entwurf zugrunde gelegt, seiner
Staffelung aber eine weitere Stufe hinzugefügt wurde, so dass Ländern
mit mehr als zwölf Millionen Einwohnern in Zukunft sogar acht
Stimmen zugestanden hätten. Da inzwischen der 3. Oktober 1990 als
Beitrittsdatum und der 14. Oktober 1990 als Tag der Landtagswahlen
in den fünf neuen Bundesländern feststand, und die Arbeiten an dem
Einigungsvertrag auf einen Abschluss zuliefen, drängte die Zeit: Der
Bundesrat beschloss zwar noch die Einbringung eines entsprechenden
Gesetzentwurfs;59 im Einigungsvertrag wurde unter den „beitrittsbe-
dingten Änderungen des Grundgesetzes“ des Art.4 als Nr.3 jedoch eine

58
Bundesrats-Drucksache 557/90 (1990).
59
Bundesrats-Drucksache 551/90 (Beschluss) (1990). Zur Argumentation der –
alten – Bundesländer in diesem Zusammenhang vgl. erneut Jekewitz (Fn. 27), 106
mwN.
84 jürgen jekewitz

solche des Art.51 Abs.2 des Grundgesetzes aufgenommen, die, anders

als von der Bundesratsmehrheit gewünscht und eher in Anlehnung an
den ursprünglichen Antrag von Nordrhein-Westfalen, allerdings
diesem gegenüber wiederum „gekappt“, nur eine Ergänzung des
Bemessungsmaßstabs um eine weitere Bevölkerungsstufe von mehr als
sieben Millionen Einwohnern mit einer neuen Höchstzahl von sechs
Stimmen einführte.60 Da die Verhandlungsführer auf Seiten der DDR
insoweit „keinen besonderen Handlungsbedarf “ gesehen hatten –
„verständlicherweise (?), da die Neuregelung die nach der bisherigen
Fassung des Art.51 GG den fünf neuen Bundesländern sonst zugefalle-
nen Stimmenanteile verringert“61 – konnten sich die „alten“ Bundes­
länder diese Änderung ebenso wie die gesonderte Ermöglichung einer
erleichterten Neugliederung für den Raum Berlin/Brandenburg in
einem neu gefassten Art.118 des Grundgesetzes als ihren Beitrag
zurechnen. Zu dieser Neugliederung ist es mangels ausreichender
Unterstützung in Brandenburg bisher nicht gekommen, so dass sich
insoweit an dem durch die Neufassung des Art.51 Abs.2 des
Grundgesetzes geschaffenen abstrakten Kräfteverhältnis der Länder
nichts geändert hat: Bei Anstieg der Gesamtstimmenzahl des
Bundesrates auf 68 fielen von den 23 hinzugekommenen Stimmen 19
an die fünf „neuen“ Bundesländer, davon drei an Mecklenburg-
Vorpommern (wie Hamburg, Bremen und das Saarland) und je vier an
Sachsen, Sachsen-Anhalt, Brandenburg und Thüringen (wie Hessen,
Schleswig-Holstein, Rheinland-Pfalz und Berlin); die übrigen vier
erhöhten das Gewicht der großen „alten“ Flächenländer Nordrhein-
Westfalen, Bayern, Baden-Württemberg und Niedersachsen von bis-
her je fünf auf nunmehr je sechs Stimmen. Soweit die Kategorie der
Länder mit fünf Stimmen damit zeitweise nicht mehr besetzt war,
änderte sich das um die Jahreswende 1995/96, als in Hessen nach den
Ergebnissen der amtlichen Bevölkerungsfortschreibung die Schwelle

60
Gesetz zu dem Vertrag vom 31. August 1990 zwischen der Bundesrepublik
Deutschland und der Deutschen Demokratischen Republik über die Herstellung der
Einheit Deutschlands – Einigungsvertrag – und der Vereinbarung vom 18. September
1990, Bundesgesetzblatt II, 1990, 885 (1990).
61
 K.-D. Schnappauf, Der Einigungsvertrag – Überleitungsgesetzgebung in
Vertragsform, Deutsches Verwaltungsblatt 1249, 1252 (1990). Vgl. dagegen K. Stern,
Der verfassungsändernde Charakter des Einigungsvertrages, Deutsch-Deutsche
Rechts-Zeitschrift 289, 290 (1990), die Änderung habe „zu größeren Diskussionen
Anlass gegeben, nicht zuletzt deshalb, weil die Entscheidung ohne die fünf neu hinzu-
tretenden Länder der DDR getroffen wurde“.
 der lange weg zur doppelten mehrheit im rat85

von sechs Millionen Einwohnern überschritten wurde,62 und die

Gesamtstimmenzahl so auf 69 stieg. Die einfache Mehrheit betrug –
und beträgt – damit weiter 35, die verfassungsändernde Mehrheit des
Art.79 Abs.2 des Grundgesetzes 46 Stimmen: Mit seiner verhältnismä-
ßig hohen Grundstimmenzahl für jedes Land und der „Kappung“ bei
höchstens sechs Stimmen spiegelt der Bundesrat zwar ebenso wenig
wie seine Vorgänger in der deutschen Verfassungsgeschichte die
Bevölkerungsstärke seiner Mitglieder exakt wider, lässt aber gerade
deswegen Landtagswahlen und als ihre Folge Regierungswechsel in
den Ländern in Deutschland zu einem Faktor der Bundespolitik wer-
den. Während es unter dem Grundgesetz dabei jedoch darum geht, auf
Dauer oder zumindest bis zu den nächsten Wahlen eine Mehrheit par-
allel zu der, die die jeweilige Bundesregierung im Bundestag trägt, zu
installieren, muss in der Europäischen Union eine für eine bestimmte
Sachentscheidung zusammengeführte qualifizierte Mehrheit im Rat
jedes Mal neu dazu ansetzen, punktuell, das heißt auf den betreffenden
Sachgegenstand bezogen eine korrespondierende politische Mehrheit
dafür im Europäischen Parlament zu organisieren

C. Der Ministerrat der Europäischen Union und seine

Abstimmungsverfahren

Als von Anfang an auf eine Vertiefung und Erweiterung angelegte

organisierte Staatengemeinschaft – ein vom deutschen Bundesverfas­
sungsgericht seit seiner Maastricht-Entscheidung63 so genannter
Staatenverbund – stand das europäische Einigungswerk bei seiner
Gründung vor der Frage, nach welchen Prinzipien seine Mitgliedstaaten
in den gemeinsamen Organen, hier vor allem und zunächst dem
Ministerrat, vertreten sein sollten.64 Denn im Verhältnis und der
Verschränkung dieser in sich gegenläufigen Grundstrukturen mit

62
Vgl. dazu ausführlich C. Deecke, Verfassungsrechtliche Anforderungen an die
Stimmenverteilung im Bundesrat (1998). Dort auch zu der Frage, ob es sich bei den
„Einwohnern“ um deutsche Staatsangehörige handeln muss, oder ob auch EU- oder
sonstige melderechtlich erfasste Personen darunter fallen. Zu möglichen ähnlichen
Folgen der Volkszählung 2011 vgl. P. Carstens, Im Mai 2011 zählt es in Deutschland.
in: Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung vom 23. August 2010, 4; dann auch T. Kaiser, Die
letzte deutsche Volkszählung. in: Die Welt vom 24. April 2011, 36/7.
63
BVerfGE 89, 155.
64
 K. H. Friauf, Die Staatenvertretung in supranationalen Gemeinschaften. Ein
Beitrag zur Rechtsstellung des Ministerrats in der EGKS, der EWG und der EAG
(1960).
86 jürgen jekewitz

einem undifferenzierten, auf die juristische Egalität als Folge der

beibehaltenen Souveränität abstellenden, von der Größe und
Macht unabhängigen völkerrechtlichen Gleichheitsprinzip auf der
einen und einem diesen Unterschieden Rechnung tragenden
Proportionalitätsprinzip auf der anderen Seite verkörpern sich Struktur
und Charakter einer zwischenstaatlichen Organisation. Bei den später
zur Europäischen Union zusammenwachsenden Europäischen
Gemeinschaften lassen sich insofern als Ausgangslage drei Merkmale
herausstellen: Von Anbeginn an waren alle Mitgliedstaaten, unabhän-
gig von ihrer Größe und internationalen Bedeutung, in allen
Gemeinschaftsorganen vertreten; diese Vertretung beschränkte sich
nicht auf die Regierungen, sondern bezog darüber hinaus verschie-
dene andere staatliche Gremien und gesellschaftlichen Kräfte mit ein;
sie beruhte zudem nicht auf einem reinen, an geografischer Größe,
Einwohnerzahl oder Wirtschaftspotential orientierten Proportio­
nalitätsprinzip, sondern eher auf einem durch eine relativierende
Gewichtung – im französischen Sprachgebrauch: Ponderierung65 –
teilweise korrigierten Gleichheitsprinzip:66 Für die Vertretung der
Mitgliedstaaten im Rat und für dessen Beschlussfassung im Normfall
der einfachen Mehrheit bei Routinegeschäften wie im Sonderfall der
Einstimmigkeit bei Beschlüssen von grundsätzlicher politischer oder
rechtlicher Bedeutung galt und gilt die Gleichheit uneingeschränkt;
das damit bei letzteren im Kern jedem Mitgliedstaat eingeräumte
Vetorecht war und ist allerdings dadurch gemildert, dass eine
Stimmenthaltung, wie eingangs dargestellt, das Zustandekommen
eines einstimmigen Beschlusses nicht hindert, ein solcher also nur
dann nicht getroffen werden kann, wenn ein Mitglied ausdrücklich
widerspricht oder bewusst oder unfreiwillig fehlt und sich auch nicht
vertreten lässt. Bei der zunächst nur für bestimmte, mit dem Ende der
Übergangszeit Mitte der 1960er Jahre zunehmende Fälle vorgesehenen
Beschlussfassung mit qualifizierter Mehrheit entschied man sich in der
Gründungsphase jedoch – ähnlich wie dann beim Europäischen
Parlament – für eine Korrektur des Gleichheitsprinzips durch eine
ansonsten zugunsten der kleinen und mittleren Mitgliedstaaten in
der Regel fehlende Gewichtung in diesem Falle der Ratsstimmen,
begleitet und verstärkt durch die zusätzliche Abweichung, dass nicht

65
B. Ljubisavljevic, Les problèmes de la pondération dans les institutions européen-
nes (1959).
66
 L.-J. Constantinesco, Das Recht der Europäischen Gemeinschaften I, 356 (1977).
 der lange weg zur doppelten mehrheit im rat87

die einfache rechnerische Mehrheit der auf die einzelnen Mitglied­

staaten entfallenden, unterschiedlich vielen Stimmen genügen sollte,
sondern als weitere Qualifizierung eine bestimmte absolute Zahl der so
zustande kommenden Gesamtstimmen gefordert war, die bei
Vorschlägen, die nicht von der Kommission ausgehen, zusätzlich von
einer Mehrheit der Mitgliedstaaten stammen mussten.
Von den sechs Gründerstaaten wies bis zu den diese Beschluss­
verfahren generalisierenden Römischen Verträgen und auch noch
einige Zeit danach nur die Bundesrepublik Deutschland eine föderale
Struktur und Erfahrungen im Umgang damit auf. Ob deshalb Vorbilder
aus der deutschen Gegenwart und Vergangenheit bei der Schaffung
dieses gestaffelten Beschlussfassungssystems eine Rolle spielten, kann
trotz gewisser Ähnlichkeiten dahingestellt bleiben. Es waren europa-
politische Beweggründe, die insbesondere die Regierungskommission
unter dem belgischen Außenminister Paul-Henri Spaak 1956 in
Konsequenz der Systemlogik eines Exekutivföderalismus zur
Verfeinerung anregte: Mit der grundsätzlichen Zulässigkeit von
Mehrheitsentscheidungen als besonderes und neues Element der
Europäischen Gemeinschaften sollte deren Supranationalität, die par-
tielle Übertragung und Teilung souveräner Rechte, zum Ausdruck
gebracht werden. Zwischen der strikten Einstimmigkeit und der
Entscheidung mit absoluter Mehrheit bei strikt gleichem Stimmgewicht
wurde ein Abstimmungsmodus geschoben, der mit unterschiedlicher
Stimmenzahl das politische Gewicht der Mitgliedstaaten, also ihre
materielle Ungleichheit, berücksichtigte, dabei aber durch ein gleich-
zeitig gefordertes Quorum eine einseitige Dominanz bestimmter
Mehrheiten verhinderte oder zumindest erschwerte. Eine solche quali-
fizierte Mehrheit gestattete eine gewisse Ausbalancierung zwischen
Stimmenzahl und Gewicht der Mitgliedstaaten, ohne dass dabei ein
streng mathematisches oder absolutes Verhältnis besteht, wie auch die
Grunderwägung bei der Stimmenverteilung auf Gründen rein politi-
scher Opportunität beruhte:67 Anfangs sollte schlicht ausgeschlossen
werden, dass einer der drei großen Mitgliedstaaten eine
Mehrheitsentscheidung der anderen allein oder nur mit einem kleinen
Mitgliedstaat an seiner Seite zu verhindern in der Lage war. Die großen
Mitgliedstaaten würden aber auch keinen gemeinsamen Beschluss
gegen die kleineren herbeiführen können, weil sie stets die Stimmen

67
Id., 429.
88 jürgen jekewitz

von mindestens einem von ihnen für die qualifizierte Mehrheit benö-
tigten. Und schließlich wäre kein Beschluss mit qualifizierter Mehrheit
gegen die Stimmen von zwei großen Mitgliedstaaten möglich, die
damit also über eine Sperrminorität verfügten.
Das war in dem kleinen Kreis der ursprünglichen Beteiligten noch
übersichtlich und bei aller Relativität auch verhältnismäßig ausgewo-
gen, eben „ponderiert“. Die Römischen Verträge sahen in Art.148
Abs.2 EWGV und inhaltsgleich Art.118 Abs.2 EAGV, etwas modifi-
ziert dann in Art.28 Abs.6 EGKSV, für diesen Fall der Abstimmung für
Deutschland, Frankreich und Italien je vier, Belgien und die Niederlande
je zwei und Luxemburg eine Stimme vor; für einen Beschluss mit
qualifizierter Mehrheit waren zwölf dieser insgesamt 17 Stimmen
erforderlich. Mit dem Beitritt von Großbritannien, Irland und
Dänemark zum 1. Januar 1973 musste sich zur Beibehaltung dieser
Grundüberlegungen die Spreizung bereits komplizieren: Die ursprüng-
lichen drei „großen“ Mitgliedstaten und das neue „große“ Mitglied
Großbritannien erhielten jetzt je zehn, Belgien und die Niederlande
je fünf, die neuen Mitglieder Dänemark und Irland als neue
Zwischengruppe je drei und Luxemburg nunmehr zwei Stimmen; die
qualifizierte Mehrheit wurde durch Art.14 der Beitrittsakte in der
Fassung des Anpassungsbeschlusses auf 41 von nunmehr insgesamt
58 Stimmen festgesetzt. Dieses Schema wurde auch bei den folgen-
den Beitritten fortgeführt, wenn sie die neu hinzukommenden
Mitgliedstaaten in Bezug auf ihr Stimmgewicht im Ministerrat bei
Abstimmungen mit qualifizierter Mehrheit in diese Grobeinteilung
einordneten und gleichzeitig das Quorum im Verhältnis zu der neuen
Gesamtstimmenzahl heraufsetzten. So erhielt Griechenland bei sei-
nem Beitritt 1981 fünf und damit eben so viele Stimmen wie Belgien
und die Niederlande. 1986 eröffnete Spanien eine neue Gruppe mit
acht Stimmen, wobei das gleichzeitig aufgenommene Portugal bei fünf
Stimmen eingeordnet wurde, und das neue Quorum auf 54 von 76
Stimmen stieg. Bei Beitritt der Dreiergruppe aus Österreich, Schweden
und Finnland 1995 erhielten die beiden ersteren mit je vier Stimmen
einen neuen Zwischenquotienten, während Finnland der Gruppe der
Dreierstimmen zugeordnet wurde. Das Quorum lag jetzt bei 62 von 87
Stimmen; die Sperrminorität stieg entsprechend von 23 auf 26
Stimmen.
Damit blieb zwar der rechnerische Satz von knapp über 70 v.H. für
eine Entscheidung mit qualifizierter Mehrheit und entsprechend 30
v.H. für ein Veto, wenn auch mit geringen Ausschlägen, durchgehend
 der lange weg zur doppelten mehrheit im rat89

erhalten;68 die ursprünglichen schlichten Berechnungen in Bezug auf

Größenzuordnung, mögliche Interessenkoalitionen und Vetoalli­
anzen waren aber weitgehend inhaltslos geworden. Gab es anfangs
rechnerisch nur 64 Varianten, wie die damals sechs Mitglieder
jeweils mit Ja oder Nein stimmen konnten,69 so hatten sich die
Kombinationsmöglichkeiten mittlerweile vervielfacht. Zudem litt das
gesamte System immer noch unter den Folgen der schweren Krise, die
Frankreich zwischenzeitlich mit seiner Forderung nach einer Ersetzung
des Mehrheitsprinzips durch die Einstimmigkeit für Fälle „sehr wich-
tiger Interessen eines oder mehrerer Partner“ und damit der
Zuerkennung eines Vetorechts nicht erst für eine ganze rechnerische
Gruppe, sondern für jeden einzelnen Mitgliedstaat herbeigeführt hatte.
Die „Luxemburger Vereinbarung“70 von 1966 kaschierte nur die
Gegensätze; tatsächlich führte sie zu einem nahezu gänzlichen
Verschwinden von Mehrheitsentscheidungen im Rat in den folgenden
Jahren, bis 1982 zum ersten Mal der Versuch eines Mitgliedstaates, in
diesem Fall Großbritanniens, ein Veto einzulegen, nicht mehr akzep-
tiert wurde.71 Im Zusammenhang mit der Norderweiterung wurde
dann 1994, als Großbritannien und Spanien an der Sperrminorität vor
dem Beitritt der drei neuen Mitglieder festhalten wollten, als Vehikel
zur Wahrung zentraler nationaler Interessen wieder ein Kompromiss,
dieses Mal der von „Ioannina“ mit der Möglichkeit einer zeitlichen
Verschiebung und erneuter Verhandlung entsprechender Entschei­
dungen im Falle knapper Mehr- oder korrekter: knapper Vetomin­
derheiten und damit erneut einer Einschränkung des Prinzips der
Abstimmung mit qualifizierter Mehrheit gewichteter Stimmen
notwendig.72

68
Vgl. die Nachweise bei Thiele (Fn. 16), 329, Fn. 352.
69
Das war der Ansatzpunkt für die Quadratwurzelrechnung bei W. Kirsch, Europa,
Nachgerechnet, in: Die Zeit vom 9. Juni 2004, 13, die in den Auseinandersetzungen im
Vorfeld des Vertrages von Lissabon vor allem von Polens Präsident L. Kaczynski ins
Feld geführt wurde; vgl. den Hinweis anlässlich seines Unfalltodes im April 2010 bei
K. Schuller. Auf dem Wege nach Katyn, in: Frankfurter Allgemeine Sonntagszeitung
vom 11. April 2010, 3; dann auch ders. in seiner Würdigung der Verleihung des
Karlspreises an D. Tusk, in: Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung vom 12. Mai 2010, 10.
70
ABl. C 1 v. 1.1. 1994. Dazu statt vieler Constantinesco (Fn. 66), 431; auch
B. Beutler / R. Bieber / J. Pipkorn / J. Streit, Die Europäische Gemeinschaft –
Rechtsordnung und Politik, 126 (3. Aufl. 1987).
71
Dann (Fn. 3), 98.
72
Einzelheiten bei V. Götz, Mehrheitsbeschlüsse des Rates der Europäischen Union,
in: O. Due / M. Lutter / J. Schwarze (Hrsg.), Festschrift U. Everling, 339, 352 (1995); vgl.
auch G. Poensgen, Das Paradox von Ioannina: Betrachtungen zu einem Ratsbeschluss,
in: Due / Lutter / Schwarze (Hrsg.) Festschrift U. Everling. 1133 (1995).
90 jürgen jekewitz

Obwohl nie förmlich angewandt, hat dieser Ioannina-Kompromiss

seine Spuren bis in die Verhandlungen über eine Verfassung für
Europa und dann in den Vertrag von Lissabon hinein gezogen.73. Zur
Zeit seiner Verabschiedung hatten sich die Größenunterschiede in
den Bevölkerungszahlen der Mitgliedstaaten durch die deutsch-
deutsche Einigung weiter verschoben, ohne dass das in den
Vertragsreformverhandlungen Berücksichtigung gefunden hätte. Der
Vertrag von Maastricht hatte zwar den Grundstein für die Europäische
Union gelegt und den Fahrplan für die Europäische Einigung bis zum
Jahre 2000 vorgezeichnet, sich aber bewusst zu den daraus erwachsen-
den organisationsrechtlichen Fragen ausgeschwiegen. Der auf ihn fol-
gende Amsterdamer Vertrag von 1997 konsolidierte die institutionellen
Veränderungen in der Architektur dieser Union, ließ jedoch mangels
Einigung eine so wichtige Frage wie die der künftigen Zusammensetzung
der Kommission, der Stimmenverhältnisse und Abstimmungsverfahren
im Ministerrat und im Zusammenhang damit der Ausweitung der
Politikfelder für Beschlüsse mit qualifizierter Mehrheit unbeantwortet.
Charakteristisch dafür war die (50.) Erklärung zum Protokoll über die
Organe im Hinblick auf die Erweiterung der Europäischen Union, mit
der die Geltungsdauer des Ioannina-Kompromiss bis zum Inkrafttreten
der ersten Erweiterung verlängert und bis zu diesem Zeitpunkt eine
Lösung für den „Sonderfall Spaniens“ versprochen wurde. Dabei han-
delte es sich längst nicht mehr um einen Sonderfall eines einzelnen
Landes. Gerade in Bezug auf die beiden letztgenannten Punkte
hätte sich – Konsequenz des Exekutivföderalismus – die generelle
Bereitschaft manifestieren können, unter Verzicht auf die nationale
Souveränität „die angenommenen Rechtsakte auch als unterlegene
Minderheit – und unter Umständen gegen den Willen der nationalen
Parla­mentsmehrheit – umzusetzen“.74 Der vorsichtig eingebrachte
Gedanke des Umschwen­kens auf ein System der doppelten Mehrheit
von – jetzt nicht mehr nach unterschiedlichem Stimmgewicht differen-
zierten – Mitgliedstaaten und von diesen Mitgliedstaaten vertretenen

73
M. Deja / H. Baddenhausen, Der Vertrag von Lissabon und die Ioannina-Klausel,
Deutscher Bundestag – Wissenschaftliche Dienste Nr.29/07 vom 19. Oktober 2007.
74
A. Maurer, Reformziel Effizienzsteigerung und Demokratisierung – Die
Weiterentwicklung der Entscheidungsmechanismen, in: M. Jopp / O. Schmuck (Hrsg.),
Die Reform der Europäischen Union, 32 (1996); ders., Entscheidungseffizienz
und Handlungsfähigkeit nach Nizza: die neuen Anwendungsfelder für
Mehrheitsentscheidungen, Integration 133, 135 (2001).
 der lange weg zur doppelten mehrheit im rat91

Unionsbürgern als eines von vielen bereits diskutierten Modellen75

konnte sich jedoch – noch – nicht durchsetzen. Er wurde aber immer-
hin schon in einem (7.) Protokoll über die Organe im Hinblick auf die
Erweiterung der Europäischen Union angesprochen, in dem die
zukünftige Zusammensetzung der Kommission davon abhängig
gemacht war, dass zu dem entsprechenden Zeitpunkt „die Stim­
menwägung im Rat – sei es durch Neuwägung oder durch Einführung
einer doppelten Mehrheit – in einer für alle Mitgliedstaaten annehm-
baren Weise geändert ist“. Dazu sollte spätestens ein Jahr vor dem
Zeitpunkt, an dem die Zahl der Mitglieder 20 übersteigen würde, eine
Regierungskonferenz einberufen werden.
Das machte schon deshalb Sinn, weil in die Zeit zwischen
Verabschiedung und Inkrafttreten des Amsterdamer Vertrags die
förmliche Eröffnung der Beitrittsverhandlungen mit zwölf weiteren
Mitgliedschaftskandidaten fiel. Eine mit 27 Mitgliedern zahlenmäßig
fast verdoppelte Europäische Union wäre mit dem bisherigen, lediglich
fortgeschriebenen Beschlussfassungssystem im Ministerrat aber nicht
nur nicht mehr entscheidungsfähig gewesen, sondern hätte das
Verhältnis von Stimmgewichtung und vertretener wie betroffener
Bevölkerung weiter verzerrt. Mit dieser zeitlichen wie politischen
Belastung entstand der Vertrag von Nizza, der auf Biegen und Brechen
zum Jahresende 2000 fertig werden musste und die künftigen neuen
Mitglieder und deren Interessen schon förmlich zu berücksichtigen
hatte. Wieder kam es zu einem Kompromiss: In der hier interessieren-
den Frage blieb der Vertragstext selbst zunächst unverändert; die
demnächst beitretenden Länder sollten proportional in das beste-
hende System gewichteter Stimmen eingeordnet werden. In Art.3 eines
neuen Protokolls über die Erweiterung der Europäischen Union,
das ausdrücklich an die Stelle des bisherigen trat, wurde für die Zeit
ab dem 1. Januar 2005 jedoch eine Neufassung der Art.205 EGV,
Art.118 EAGV und Art.23 EUV festgelegt, die die alte „Rangfolge“ mit
nunmehr 29 Stimmen für die vier „großen“ Mitgliedstaaten und
einer entsprechenden proportionalen Vervielfältigung für die übrigen
auf insgesamt 237 schlicht weiter spreizte, das Quorum auf 169
Stimmen anhob und in den Fällen, wo bis dahin bei nicht von der
Kommission stammenden Vorschlägen diese Stimmen aus der Hälfte
der Mitgliedstaaten kommen mussten, künftig eine Zweidrittelmehrheit

75
Beispiele bei J. Janning, Politische und institutionelle Konsequenzen der
Erweiterung, in: W. Weidenfeld (Hrsg.), Reform der Europäischen Union, 276 (1995).
92 jürgen jekewitz

verlangte. Als zusätzliches drittes, erstmals den Bevölkerungsquotienten

ins Spiel bringendes Gültigkeitserfordernis wurde in einem neuen
Art.205 Abs.4 EGV als Element der doppelten Mehrheit der auf
Verlangen schon eines einzelnen Mitglieds zu erbringende Nachweis
einer Repräsentation von mindestens 62 % der Gesamtbevölkerung
der Union durch dieses Quorum eingeführt. In einer mit dem Vertrag
von Nizza verbundenen (20.) Erklärung zur Erweiterung der
Europäischen Union war die neue Stimmgewichtung und -staffelung,
an deren Erarbeitung die zukünftigen neuen Partner bereits beteiligt
gewesen waren, und gegen die Widerstand vor allem bei Spanien und
Polen, die sich mit je „nur“ 27 Stimmen zu gering berücksichtigt
gefühlt hatten, überwunden werden musste, schon um die noch förm-
lich vertraglich festzuschreibenden auf das Europa der dann 27
Mitgliedstaaten ausgelegt: Bei dann für die qualifizierte Mehrheit
zugrunde zu legenden insgesamt 345 Stimmen waren für das Quorum
in der Endstufe 258 Stimmen angegeben.76
Dass diese „Lösung“ und damit ein Großteil der sie bestimmenden
theoretischen Spekulationen von der Frage bestimmt war, welche
Bedingungen zur Erreichung einer Blockademinderheit nach einem
der drei Kriterien erreicht sein müssten,77 wurde an der darauf folgen-
den (21.) Erklärung zur Schwelle für die qualifizierte Mehrheit und zur
Zahl der Stimmen für die Sperrminorität in einer erweiterten Union
deutlich, die für den Fall sukzessiven Beitritts der aufgeführten und in
der Neuzuteilung berücksichtigten neuen Mitgliedstaaten einen pro-
zentualen Anstieg dieser Schwelle bis zu einem Höchstsatz von 73,4 %
vorsah, für die Endstufe mit 27 Mitgliedstaaten aber ausdrücklich von
einer Sperrminorität von 91 Stimmen ausging. Es ist deshalb zu Recht
von der komplizierten und strukturlosen Arithmetik der Bestimmungen
zur Stimmgewichtung als dem herausragenden Fehler von Nizza
gesprochen worden, bei dem das Fehlen jeglicher Grundsätze das
Verfahren als einen Rückfall in die reine Machtpolitik zwischen Staaten
habe erscheinen lassen.78 Die Verhandlungen und Ergebnisse von

76
Aufstellung der Entwicklung der Stimmgewichtung und ihres Verhältnisses
zur jeweiligen Einwohnerzahl bzw. deren relativen Einfluss bei Thiele (Fn. 16), 240,
Übersicht V.5. Das dort in Fn. 98 erwähnte (36.) Protokoll über die Übergangsbe­
stimmungen zum Vertrag von Lissabon nennt in Art.3 Abs.3 UAbs. 3 bei sonst unver-
änderten Zahlen als Quorum 255 Stimmen; vgl. dazu unten.
77
 H. Wallace, Stimmen und Stimmungen aus Nizza: Entscheidungen der
Regierungskonferenz 2000 zum Rat, Integration 124, 128 (2001).
78
J. Pinder, Der Vertrag von Nizza – Wegbereiter eines föderalen oder intergouver-
nementalen Europa?, Integration 77, 80 (2001).
 der lange weg zur doppelten mehrheit im rat93

Nizza hatten offen gelegt, dass sich hinter qualifizierenden Mehr­

heitsregeln vor allem im Exekutivföderalismus, je stärker sie gekoppelt
oder hintereinander geschaltet werden, bei aller vordergründigen
Tendenz zur Konsensverbreiterung an erster Stelle meist die Sicherung
möglicher Vetokonstellationen verbirgt. Deshalb in Bezug auf das drei-
fach gestufte System des Vertrags von Nizza von einem faktischen
Abschied von Mehrheitsentscheidungen auszugehen,79 wäre aller-
dings der europäischen Wirklichkeit nicht gerecht geworden, die –
demokratietheoretisch formuliert – von ihrer Systemlogik her
konkordanzdemokratisch agiert.80 Trotzdem war klar, dass mit dieser
Hypothek die in der (23.) Erklärung zum Vertrag von Nizza angespro-
chene Zukunft der Union nicht bewältigt werden könnte. Konkretisiert
wurde das aber erst im Dezember 2001 durch den Europäischen Rat in
Laeken, der zugleich einen Konvent zur Vorbereitung einer Verfassung
der Europäischen Union einberief. Der von diesem Konvent unter
Vorsitz des ehemaligen französischen Staatspräsidenten erarbeitete
Entwurf eines Vertrages über eine Verfassung für Europa war dann
konsequent und kehrte das bisherige Verfahren um: Der Ministerrat
sollte, soweit die Verfassung nichts anderes vorschrieb, grundsätzlich
mit qualifizierter Mehrheit beschließen. Diese qualifizierte Mehrheit
sollte nach Art.I-24 des Entwurfs ohne Unterschied in der
Stimmgewichtung aus der – einfachen – Mehrheit der Mitgliedstaaten
bestehen, die zugleich mindestens drei Fünftel der Bevölkerung der
Union zu repräsentieren hatten; wenn die Beschlussfassung auf eine
Initiative nicht von außen – konkret der Kommission oder des für die
Zukunft vorgesehenen Europäischen Außenministers –, sondern aus
den Mitgliedstaaten erfolgte, sollte eine Zweidrittelmehrheit bei identi-
schem Quorum der Unionsbürger erforderlich sein.
Das war zwar nicht ganz die schlichte Mehrheit, von der viele
geträumt haben mochten, berücksichtigte aber stärker die Bevölke­
rungskomponente und hätte das Verfahren damit – auch in der
Systemlogik des Exekutivföderalismus – demokratischer gemacht. Bei
den Beratungen der Vertreter der Mitgliedstaaten, die daraus eine
Beschlussvorlage für die folgende Regierungskonferenz formulieren
mussten, setzte aber erneut das ebenfalls exekutivföderalistische

79
So aber W. Weidenfeld, Europa nach Nizza, Internationale Politik 1, 2 (2001).
80
Vgl. dazu Dann (Fn. 3), 100; zur Begrifflichkeit auch J. Jekewitz, Deutscher
Föderalismus – Fehlentwicklung oder Vorbild in Europa?, 39 Recht und Politik 89, 90
(2004).
94 jürgen jekewitz

Rechnen mit möglichen Vetopositionen und – gruppierungen ein.

Hier noch Einfluss zu nehmen, war das erklärte Ziel von
Veröffentlichungen wie der mit dem von Polen81 bis zuletzt favorisier-
ten Vorschlag zur Übernahme des Quadratwurzelsystems.82 Der im
Oktober 2004 in Rom unterzeichnete Vertrag kehrte dann trotzdem
nicht zur ursprünglichen Stimmgewichtung zurück, sondern definierte
in seinem Art.I-25 die qualifizierte Mehrheit jetzt als „eine Mehrheit
von mindestens 55 % der Mitglieder des Rates, gebildet aus mindestens
15 Mitgliedern, sofern die von diesen vertretenen Mitgliedstaaten
zusammen mindestens 65 % der Bevölkerung der Union ausmachen“;
in den Fällen der Beschlussfassung über einen Vorschlag von
Kommission oder Außenminister wurden als Mehrheit sogar mindes-
tens 72 % der Ratsmitglieder, also der Mitgliedstaaten, gefordert.
Zugleich wurde aber als Sperrminorität und damit vetoberechtigt eine
Gruppe von mindestens vier Mitgliedern ausdrücklich genannt und
vertraglich festgeschrieben. Kaum einfacher, aber immerhin transpa-
renter und demokratischer folgte ein solcher Verfahrensmodus weiter
der Systemlogik eines Exekutivföderalismus; seinen Charakter als
Systemwechsel würde er aus der gleichberechtigten Mitwirkung des
mit einfacher Mehrheit abstimmenden Europäischen Parlaments am
endgültigen Zustandekommen seiner Entscheidungen gewinnen.

D. Der Lissabonner Vertrag als eingeschränktes

Versprechen für die Zukunft

Es war diese Neugestaltung der Verfahrensregeln im Rat, gegen die

sich der späte, nur von Tschechien unterstützte Widerstands Polens,
das im Konvent und beim Europäischen Rat in Rom beiden dort vor-
liegenden Vorschlägen bzw. Fassungen durchaus zugestimmt hatte,
richtete, als nach dem vorläufigen Scheitern des Ratifikationsverfahrens
als Folge der ablehnenden Referenden in Frankreich und den
Niederlanden nach Wegen gesucht werden musste, das Reformprojekt
doch noch zu retten.83 Gerade an diesen neuen Verfahrensregeln war

81
Zu dessen bis zuletzt „hart und reichlich uncharmant vorgetragenen Haltung“
vgl. K. H. Fischer, Der Vertrag von Lissabon, 22, 39, 46 (2.Aufl. 2010).
82
S.o. Fn. 69; Fischer (Fn. 81), 46, Rn. 100 spricht in diesem Zusammenhang
von „politischer Produktpiraterie“, da das Modell bereits 2000 in Nizza von Schweden
vorgeschlagen, von den anderen Mitgliedstaaten damals aber verworfen worden
sei; vgl. auch K. H. Fischer, Der Vertrag von Nizza, 190, Rn. 6 (2. Aufl. 2003).
83
Darstellung bei Fischer (Fn. 81), 23 ff.
 der lange weg zur doppelten mehrheit im rat95

die Europäische Union jedoch weiter festzuhalten gewillt, wie die –

wiederum auch von Polen nach hartem Ringen nicht in Frage
gestellten – Schlussfolgerungen des Europäischen Rats unter deut-
scher Präsidentschaft im Juni 2007 deutlich machten, die eine
Regierungskonferenz zur Überarbeitung des in Rom beschlossenen
Verfassungsvertrags mit dem Ziel der Vorlage einer ratifizierbaren
Form und Fassung vorsahen.84 Nach Ziffer 12 des als Anlage zu diesen
Schlussfolgerungen dafür ausformulierten Mandats waren die auf der
Regierungskonferenz 2004 – also in Rom – vereinbarten institutionel-
len Änderungen unter ausdrücklicher Nennung der Einführung des
Systems der Abstimmung mit doppelter Mehrheit im Rat in einen –
neuen – Vertrag über die Arbeitsweise der Union einzuarbeiten. Nach
der dortigen Ziffer 13 sollte dieses „Verfahren der Beschlussfassung mit
doppelter Mehrheit am 1.November 201485 in Kraft treten; bis zu die-
sem Zeitpunkt wird weiter das derzeitige Verfahren der Beschlussfassung
mit qualifizierter Mehrheit (Artikel 205 Absatz 2 EG-Vertrag) gelten.
Danach kann während eines Übergangszeitraums bis zum 31. März
2017 ein Mitglied des Rates bei der Annahme eines Beschlusses mit
qualifizierter Mehrheit beantragen, dass der Beschluss mit der qualifi-
zierten Mehrheit gemäß Artikel 205 Absatz 2 des geltenden
EG-Vertrages angenommen wird“.
War diese doppelte zeitliche Verschiebung und damit Relativierung
bereits ein Zugeständnis an Polen, so war mit der Wiederbelebung
des Ioannina-Kompromissesl86 aus dem Jahre 1994 eine weitere
Einschränkung vorgesehen: Bis zum 31. März 2017 sollte nach einer
angepassten Ioannina-Klausel – die Opposition umfasst 75 % der
Bevölkerung oder der Mitgliedstaaten, die zur Erreichung einer
Sperrminoriät erforderlich sind – im Falle eines knappen Beschlusses
mit qualifizierter Mehrheit die Frage erneut vom Rat erörtert werden
müssen, der in diesem Falle alles in seiner Macht Stehende zu unter-
nehmen hätte, innerhalb einer angemessenen Frist eine zufrieden stel-
lende Lösung zu finden. Ab dem 1. April 2017, also dem endgültigen
Wirksamwerden des Systems der doppelten Mehrheit, würde dann die
Klausel in einer erneut modifizierten Fassung, nämlich bereits bei
Ablehnung durch eine nur 55 % der Bevölkerung oder der Anzahl der

84
Doc.11177/07 CONCL 2.
85
In dem Dokument (Fn. 84) steht irrtümlich die Jahreszahl 2004.
86
Vgl. Fn. 72.
96 jürgen jekewitz

für eine Sperrminorität notwendigen Mit­gliedstaaten repräsentierende

Minderheit, und diesmal auf Dauer Anwendung finden.
Polens Drohung, trotz dieses Konsenses die Frage der Stimmge­
wichtung im Rat auf der Regierungskonferenz generell erneut zur
Diskussion zu stellen, machte während der Vorarbeiten der Versteifung
auf die Forderung Platz, die Ioannina-Klausel von der Ebene einer blo-
ßen Erklärung auf die des Primärrechts in Form eines Protokolls zu
heben; zusätzlich verlangte es, darin den zwischenzeitlich vorgesehe-
nen Aufschub um zwei Jahre durch eine „angemessene Frist“ zu erset-
zen. Dem portugiesischen Vorsitz gelang hier „beinahe die Quadratur
des Kreises, indem er einerseits die Protokolllösung verwarf, sie ande-
rerseits aber doch vorsah:“87 Der Ioannina-Mechanismus wurde in
einem dem Reformvertrag als (7.) Erklärung beigefügten Ratsbeschluss
festgeschrieben; in einem (9.) Protokoll wurde festgehalten, dass dieser
Ratsbeschluss nur im Konsens, d.h. einstimmig geändert werden kann.
Art.16 Abs.4 EUV in der Fassung des Vertrages von Lissabon verankert
nunmehr zwar erneut und endgültig das in den gescheiterten Verträgen
von Rom erstmals enthaltene Prinzip der doppelten Mehrheit bei
Abstimmungen mit qualifizierter Mehrheit im Rat, schränkt sein
Wirksamwerden aber gleich zweifach, nämlich zeitlich wie institutio-
nell ein, wobei sich die eigentliche – negative – Brisanz erst aus der
Verbindung mit Abs.5, dem (36.) Protokoll über die Übergangs­
bestimmungen, dem (9.) Protokoll über den Beschluss des Rates über
die Anwendung des Artikels 16 Absatz 4 des Vertrags über die
Europäische Union und des Artikels 238 Absatz 2 des Vertrages über
die Arbeitsweise der Europäischen zwischen dem 1. November 2014
und dem 31. März 2017 einerseits und ab dem 1. April 2017 anderer-
seits sowie der (7.) Erklärung zu Artikel 16 Absatz 4 des Vertrages über
die Europäische Union und zu Artikel 238 Absatz 2 des Vertrags über
die Arbeitsweise der Europäischen Union ergibt: Bis zum 31. Oktober
2014 gilt für Entscheidungen mit qualifizierter Mehrheit im Rat weiter
das System der Stimmgewichtung, wie es durch den Vertrag von Nizza
ausgestaltet wurde; die dortigen Sperrminoritäten werden durch
die ausdrückliche Reaktivierung der Ioannina-Klausel mit ihrem
ursprünglichen Inhalt verstärkt. Am 1. November 2014 wird dieses
System der Stimmgewichtung zwar von dem System der doppelten
Mehrheit abgelöst, aber durch eine auf die neuen Sperrminoritäten
abgestellte Ioannina-Klausel überlagert; überdies ist bis zum 31. März

87
Fischer (Fn. 81), 81.
 der lange weg zur doppelten mehrheit im rat97

2017 auf Verlangen bereits eines einzelnen Mitgliedstaates das alte

Nizzaregime einschließlich der Möglichkeit des Rekurses auf den
Ioannina-Mechanismus anzuwenden. Ab dem 1. April 2017 kommt
dann endlich ausschließlich das System der doppelten Mehrheit zur
Anwendung, sieht sich aber einer Ioannina-Klausel gegenüber, bei der
die erforderliche Schwelle zur Auslösung des Mechanismus von 75%
auf 55% der für die Sperrminorität erforderlichen Bevölkerungs- oder
Mitgliedstaatenzahl abgesenkt ist.
Daraus erhellt, dass ein wesentliches Ziel der Reformbemühungen
im Lissabonner Vertrag zwar nicht gescheitert, aber doch nur in ver-
wässerter Form realisiert worden ist. Von einer Mogelpackung zu spre-
chen, erscheint trotzdem zu hart. Richtig ist, dass die adaptierte
Ioannina-Formel insbesondere nach dem 1. April 2017 die Anwendung
dieser Klausel eher leicht machen und damit den Vorteil der dann aus-
schließlichen Anwendung des Systems der doppelten Mehrheit nahezu
aufheben wird.88 Auch ohne Horrorszenen auszumalen, liegt die Vor­
stellung nicht fern, dass künftig im Rat jenseits aller Konsensualität
und Konkordanz89 zu den strategischen Überlegungen in Bezug auf
Vetopositionen als Verhinderungs- oder auch nur Verzögerungs­
optionen bei ungeliebten Entscheidungen auch die Abstimmungs­
systemwahl gehört. Trotzdem gilt, dass für die Zeit nach 2017 es keine
ehernen, weil festgeschriebenen Stimmgewichtungen mehr geben
wird, weil dann die Bevölkerungsstatistik zum Politikfaktor wird, und
Durchsetzungs- wie Verhinderungsallianzen auch davon beein-
flusst sein werden, in welchen Mitgliedstaaten die Einwohnerzahl
geschrumpft und in welchen sie gewachsen ist.90 Europäische Politik
wird damit vielleicht doch transparenter und demokratischer, wenn
auch nicht einfacher werden. Aber einfach ist das deutsche System der
Reproduktion politischer Kräfteverhältnisse in den Bundesländern im
Bundesrat und ihre Auswirkungen auf die Bundespolitik auch nicht.
Bei aller Unvollkommenheit der jetzt getroffenen Regelungen hat sich
mit dem Lissabonner Vertrag das Abstimmungsverfahren im Rat der
Europäischen Union vor allem jedoch von allen völkerrechtlichen
Wurzeln gelöst und einen eigenen europaverfassungsrechtlichen Weg
gefunden.

88
Fischer (Fn. 81), Art.16 EGV Komm. Rn. 9.
89
Zur Häufigkeit von Kampfabstimmungen in der EU in diesem Zusammenhang
N. Busse, Viel Lärm um nichts?, in: Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung vom 28. Mai
2007, 10.
90
Anschaulich A. Rinke, Demografie wird zum Machtfaktor, in: Handelsblatt vom
19./20./21. Oktober 2007, 9.
 The Post-Globalization Travails
of Legal Education

Rahmatullah Khan

A. Introduction

In a globalized world, the quest for modern sources of international

law takes one beyond the confines of those listed in the Statute of the
International Court of Justice. The jurisprudential reach, similarly,
of law-formation transcends state-centric structures. I have argued
elsewhere that the drama of law-creation sometimes appears to be
enacted outside the intellectually surcharged court and legislative
chambers and is being played out in the streets of the global metropo-
lis. Fearful of being accused of flippancy in a sombre assignment such
as this, I move over to the self-assigned mission of highlighting the
unorthodox and daring law making and application in societies where
law and order have broken down (I refrain from using that distasteful
designation-failed or failing state). The thus avoided description
reflects a strong desire to be non-judgmental in a situation which is
already saturated with uncalled-for application of half truths, manipu-
lated misinformation and so on.

B. Constitution-Making in Fractured States

Rüdiger Wolfrum has made a profound contribution to seeking to

cement fractured states by bringing together culturally and ethnically
diverse groups and individuals. This is a formal tribute. At a social
“do”, as the younger generation calls it these days, an admirer half-
in-humour called him the modern-day Hammurabi. I unabashedly
endorse the view. For he has dared to hold constitution-making talks in
Afghanistan, Iraq, Somalia and Sudan. Amidst the fratricidal blood-
letting, the Max-Planck Institute has sought an opportunity to hold
workshops on law-making in the abovementioned countries. In a
country where the judiciary decided cases orally and had no written
records of cases, MPI thought fit to uphold the principle of stare decicis.
The judiciary was getting acquainted with the Common Law writs.
100 rahmatullah khan

The unique and noble venture in which Max-Planck audaciously visu-

alizes Sharia law acting as a cementing force joining fractured states is
just audacious.
While the whole world was exposed to the marauding, horse-borne
Jhanjavi and the suicidal, heavily-armed pirates of the seas, unhidden
negotiations were being held with the ministry for constitution making
in Heidelberg. Wolfrum’s monumental effort to restore and establish
constitutional structures in those crisis-ridden states will surely go
down in the history of international constitution making. Globalization
has rocked the boat of law and law-making. It has also had a profound
effect on law teaching.

C. The India-Germany Collaboration

Globalization has had an incredible impact on the way Law is taught,

studied and practised. Law faculties are obviously unable to cope with
the demands of out-sourced litigation. Family law institutions, like
marriage, divorce, adoption etc., have spun out of shape with fast mov-
ing men, money and material across international boundaries. Cross-
national trade disputes, the WTO and intellectual property rights have
thrown up unimagined opportunities and challenges to the legal
community.
The traditional university establishments are rattled and sit sulking
in the corner of the globalized world. The more enterprising have
started offering courses which meet the demands of the market place.
But they seem to be stuck with the gluttonous appetite of the market
and the acute shortage of the qualified and the competent. The crisis
has been aggravated by the predatory recruitment practices of the so-
called National Law Schools (NLS).
The NLS phenomenon has swept India. At the last reckoning, some
16 of them compete to cater to what unhappily has morphed into an
elite clientele. Established as centres of excellence at the state level,
NLSs have sullied their standing by rapacious levies for tuition and
maintenance. The quality of the course offerings regretfully has not
risen with the costs. Elitism attracts the ambitious young, the best and
the brightest. But where does one get competent communicators of the
subtleties and the legal nuances of globalization?
Historical legal traditions have helped India steer clear of the ambu-
lance chasers and the huge commercial law firms. The latter do exist,
 the post-globalization travails of legal education101

but only in the trading centres of the metropolis. The doctrinally rich
and more modernized legal culture of Germany will mesh well with
that of India, if properly pruned and offered with a becoming sensitiv-
ity. A number of academic institutions spread through the vibrant
country come together in planning a joint enterprise of legal studies.
A semblance of collaboration between India and Germany already
exists.
The collaboration started in 1983 with an exchange of international
lawyers between the two countries. The representation was high-level.
World Court judge Nagendra Singh led the Indian team, with the Chief
Justice of India and half a dozen top lawyers of India. The German
team consisted of all three Directors of the Max-Planck Institute and
other well-known German academics. The German team visited India
in 1983 and the Indian team went to Germany the following year for an
exchange of views on issues of mutual concern.
The exercise could be repeated with benefits to both. This proposal
visualizes a broader but focused interaction. It suggests:
– Careful selection of the leading law schools and university faculties
of India and Germany
– Harmonization of their course curricula
– Promotion of individual and group teaching and joint research by
their students and teachers
– Interactive workshops at state (Land), regional, national and inter-
national levels.
The bilateral exchange in Delhi and Heidelberg between Indian and
German scholars, jurists and practitioners generated a fund of good-
will which has lasted for a quarter of a century and more. As a host
institution headed by Judge Nagendra Singh, the Indian Society of
International Law and, as a massive spin-off, the excellent scholars of
the Centre of International Law of Jawaharlal Nehru University con-
solidated the interaction. The last such interaction took place in 2009
when a Max-Planck sponsored symposium was held in Heidelberg on
Solidarity as a Principle of International Law in which the venerable
President Ram Niwas Mirdha (who tragically is no more) participated
with the Secretary-General of ISIL. The Indian scholars are warmly
received at the MPIL. At one point, a few years ago, there were 5 Indian
international lawyers working at MPIL at the same time.
The appreciation has been earned over the years by assiduous indi-
vidual research and collaborative ventures. Much of the Indian research
102 rahmatullah khan

was conducted at MPIL and other centres of advanced learning in

Germany. Michael Bothe’s book on Trends in Environmental Law had
an Indian contribution. A monograph was jointly produced by the
same Indian scholar and a German Environmental lawyer working
then at MPIL. Risking a charge of immodesty, one is tempted to cite
another display of appreciation which led to the Humboldt Research
Award conferred on the present writer in 2004. The Award was cited as
recognition of the conferee’s life-time achievement in teaching and
research in international law, and for striving to secure institutional
collaboration between India and Germany.

D. The Alleged Obstacles

The oft-cited obstacle to cooperation between India and Germany

is the language of the latter. It is a wholly exaggerated assumption.
Thanks to the Max-Mueller, Goethe and other University establish-
ments, the language barrier has been broken in India. Floodgates would
be an exaggeration, but the upsurge in Indian enrolment for higher
education in Germany has been quite impressive. And German stu-
dents are seen more often in India these days. For obvious reasons, the
exchange has been significant amongst scientists and technologists.
A healthy trend in the non-scientists’ cooperation is visible in the
German language establishments. Jawaharlal Nehru University Centre
for German Language and Literature has earned quite a reputation in
India, as has the one in Goa and other universities.
The whole idea is to forge a legal culture which will spurn crass com-
mercialization of legal studies in two of the most representative democ-
racies of the world. The cooperative interaction of legal bodies in the
two countries is imperative.
 Solidarity: Evidence of an emerging
International legal principle

Abdul G. Koroma

The notion of solidarity–both of interdependence, from which social

laws and obligations can emerge, and of communities working towards
a common goal or in the common interest–has long been central to
international law. Indeed, to the extent that solidarity is used in the
general sense to represent a commitment to work towards the common
good,1 the idea is represented in some form in the preamble to practi-
cally every international instrument. For example, while the term ‘soli-
darity’ is not itself used in the United Nations Charter, the preamble
lists as goals of the Organization “to practice tolerance and live together
in peace with one another as good neighbours, and to unite our strength
to maintain international peace and security”. Similarly Article 1(3) of
the Charter provides that one of the purposes of the United Nations is
“[t]o achieve international co-operation in solving international prob-
lems of an economic, social, cultural, or humanitarian character”. More
recently, the concept of solidarity has on multiple occasions been
explicitly listed by the General Assembly as a “fundamental value”
required in a democratic and equitable international order,2 and as
a principle which is “enshrined in the Charter”.3 The present contri­
bution, therefore, examines the content of this fundamental value–
aiming in particular to show that the concept of solidarity in current
international law represents more than a general notion of ‘neighbour-
liness’ but in fact an emerging structural principle which in many cases
creates negative obligations on States not to engage in certain activities,
and in an increasing number of contexts establishes concrete duties on
States to carry out certain measures for the common good. To this end,
the present contribution examines how the notion of solidarity has

1
See, e.g., M. Bedjaoui, International Law: Achievements and Prospects, at 14
(1991).
2
GA Res. 56/151 of 19 December 2001, para. 3(f); GA Res. 57/213 of 18 December
2002, para. 4(f).
3
Preambles to these resolutions.
104 abdul g. koroma

developed in various international legal contexts, including collective

security, international humanitarian law, human rights, environmental
law, international development, refugee law, the responsibility to
protect, the international law of disaster relief, and the law of State
responsibility.

A. Collective Security

A cornerstone of the United Nations Charter paradigm,4 the notion of

collective security is perhaps the first and most obvious manifestation
of the principle of solidarity in the post World War II era. Indeed, the
system of collective security depends on the collective solidarity of
United Nations member States to assure its very functioning. As
Professor Wolfrum has noted, “[s]ince the State lending its support to
a State which has become the victim of an armed attack does not have
to pursue an interest of its own, it performs, when intervening for the
protection of another State, an act of solidarity by making the case of
that State its own”.5 Wellens even argues that “it is in the UN law on the
maintenance of international peace and security that the principle
of solidarity has reached its highest degree of constitutionalization”6
and that “[t]he principle of solidarity forms the political and legal
foundation for the collective security system established by the UN
Charter”.7
The principle of solidarity operates both ‘negatively’ and ‘positively’
in the paradigm of collective security: In its negative form, States agree
“not to commit, acquiesce in or support, directly or indirectly acts or
courses of conduct which may constitute or result in a threat to inter-
national peace and security”.8 In other words, the motivation for the

4
B. Simma, From Bilateralism to Community Interest in International Law, Receuil
des Cours de l’Académie de La Haye, Vol. 250, 217, at 236 (1994).
5
R. Wolfrum, Solidarity Among States: An Emerging Structural Principle of
International Law, in: P. M. Dupuy/B. Fassbender/M. N. Shaw/K. P. Sommermann
(eds.),Völkerrecht als Wertordnung: Common Values in International Law: Festschrift
für Christian Tomuschat, at 1087 (2006).
6
K. Wellens, Solidarity as a Constitutional Principle: Its Expanding Role and
Inherent Limitations, in: R. St. J. Macdonald/D. M. Johnston (eds.), Towards World
Constitutionalism: Issues in the Legal Ordering of the World Community, 775,
at 779 (2005).
7
Id.
8
K. Wellens, The UN Security Council and New Threats to the Peace: Back to the
Future, in: Journal of Conflict and Security Law, 15, at 54 (2003).
 solidarity105

prohibition on the use of force in Article 2(4) must be the principle of

solidarity, as that Article represents collective non-action by States
(non-use of force) for their common good, even if such action might in
some cases seem advantageous to certain individual States.
In its positive manifestation, States have agreed under the Charter to
multiple active forms of participation with a view to the resolution of
threats to international peace and security, including the obligation
under Article 41 to implement “measures not involving the use of
armed force … to give effect to [Security Council] decisions”;9 the obli-
gation under Article 43 to “undertake to make available to the Security
Council … armed forces, assistance, and facilities, including rights of
passage”;10 the obligation under Article 45 to “hold immediately avail-
able national air-force contingents for combined international enforce-
ment action”;11 and the obligation under Article 49 to “join in affording
mutual assistance in carrying out the measures decided upon by the
Security Council”.12 It is this last, positive, manifestation which pro-
vides tangible evidence of an emerging principle of solidarity, because
the notion is represented by actual duties upon States.

B. International Humanitarian Law

The principle of solidarity is reflected in numerous provisions of inter-

national humanitarian law which set out the responsibilities of various
actors to provide humanitarian assistance to victims of armed con-
flict.13 First, the right of victims to humanitarian assistance is firmly
established in conventional international humanitarian law, including
through Article 38 of the Fourth Geneva Convention, which provides
that protected persons on the territory of a party to a conflict “shall be
enabled to receive the individual or collective relief that may be sent to

UN Charter, Article 41.

    9
10
UN Charter, Article 43.
11
UN Charter, Article 45.
12
UN Charter, Article 49.
13
See, e.g., D. Schindler, The right to humanitarian assistance: right and/or
obligation?, Paper presented at the International Colloquium on the Right to
Humanitarian Assistance, UNESCO House, Paris, at 25–27 January 1995; F. Kalshoven,
Assisting the Victims of Armed Conflict and Other Disasters: Papers delivered at
the International Conference on Humanitarian Assistance in Armed Conflict, the
Hague, 22–24 June 1988 (1989); Y. Beigbeder, The Role and Status of International
Humanitarian Volunteers and Organizations: The Right and Duty to Humanitarian
Assistance (1991).
106 abdul g. koroma

them”.14 Second, numerous provisions of international humanitarian

law create a duty on States to provide humanitarian assistance to vic-
tims of armed conflict on their territory or under their control. For
example, Protocol I, Article 69 requires the occupying power to “ensure
the provision of clothing, bedding, means of shelter, other supplies
essential to the survival of the civilian population of the occupied ter-
ritory and objects necessary for religious worship”.15 Third, all States
have a duty to facilitate, to the best of their ability, humanitarian assis-
tance provided by other States, inter-governmental organizations, or
non-governmental organizations. For example, Protocol I, Article 70
provides that “[t]he Parties to the conflict and each High Contracting
Party shall allow and facilitate rapid and unimpeded passage of all relief
consignments, equipment and personnel provided in accordance with
this Section, even if such assistance is destined for the civilian popula-
tion of the adverse Party”.16 Fourth, there is an emerging practice in
international humanitarian law that States have a duty to admit human-
itarian assistance furnished by other States, inter-governmental organ-
izations, and non-governmental organizations in accordance with
international law. For example, Security Council resolution 688 of 5
April 1991 “[i]nsists that Iraq allow immediate access by interna-
tional humanitarian organizations to all those in need of assistance in

14
 Fourth Geneva Convention of 1949, Article 38(1). See also id., Article 62 (“Subject
to imperative reasons of security, protected persons in occupied territories shall be
permitted to receive the individual relief consignments sent to them.”); id., Article 108
(providing that internees “shall be allowed to receive, by post or by any other means,
individual parcels or collective shipments containing in particular foodstuffs, clothing,
medical supplies, as well as books and objects of a devotional, educational or recrea-
tional character which may meet their needs”); First Protocol Additional to the Geneva
Conventions of 12 August 1949, and Relating to the Protection of Victims of
International Armed Conflicts, Article 70, 8 June 1977, 1125 U.N.T.S. 3; Protocol addi-
tional to the Geneva Conventions of 12 August 1949, and Relating to the Protection of
Victims of Non-International Armed Conflicts, Article 18(2), 8 June 1977, 1125
U.N.T.S. 609 (“If the civilian population is suffering undue hardship owing to a lack of
the supplies essential for its survival, such as food-stuffs and medical supplies, relief
actions for the civilian population which are of an exclusively humanitarian and impar-
tial nature and which are conducted without any adverse distinction shall be under-
taken subject to the consent of the High Contracting Party concerned.”).
15
Protocol I, 8 June 1977, Article 69 (1). See also Geneva Convention III, 1949,
Arts. 26, 72 (concerning duties towards prisoners of war); Geneva Convention IV,
Article 108 (concerning duties towards internees); Protocol II, Article 18 (2) (concern-
ing duties towards the civilian population in non-international armed conflicts).
16
Protocol I, 8 June 1977, Article 70(2). See also Geneva Convention IV, 1949, Arts.
23, 59–61, 108.
 solidarity107

all parts of Iraq and to make available all necessary facilities for their
operations”.17 More recently, Security Council resolution 1564 of 18
September 2004 “[d]emand[ed] all armed groups, including rebel
forces … cooperate with international humanitarian relief and moni-
toring efforts”.18
Building on this strong foundation of solidarity established by inter-
national humanitarian law, the solidarity principle is clearly apparent
in the growth of modern international criminal law. With the establish-
ment of the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia
(ICTY) in 1993, the international community reaffirmed its commit-
ment to joint international action to redress the world’s most atrocious
crimes,19 and required “all States … [to] cooperate fully with the
International Tribunal and its organs … [and to] take any measures
necessary under their domestic law to implement the provisions of the
present resolution and the Statute, including the obligation of States to
comply with requests for assistance or orders issued by a Trial
Chamber”.20 This was followed in 1994 by the establishment of the
International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda, which reiterated this joint
obligation on States evidencing the emerging principle of solidarity.
Perhaps the most important moment of all in terms of solidarity, how-
ever, was the entry into force of the Rome Statute in 2002 and the
resulting establishment of the International Criminal Court. The crea-
tion of a permanent criminal court, whose jurisdiction is global in
scope (albeit requiring a territorial or nationality link, or a referral
from the Security Council), may perhaps one day be considered as sig-
nificant an achievement for international law as the Charter itself.
Thus, while international humanitarian law provides perhaps the first
systematic example of solidarity in the positive sense (establishing
State duties), the international criminal law mechanisms which have
grown from the basis of that law provide the most tangible and striking
modern example of solidarity in both its negative and positive
manifestations.

17
SC Res. 688 of 5 April 1991, para. 3.
18
SC Res. 1564 of 18 September 2004, para. 10.
19
See SC Res. 827 of 25 May 1993, Preamble (“Believing that the establishment of
an international tribunal and the prosecution of persons responsible for the above-
mentioned violations of international humanitarian law will contribute to ensuring
that such violations are halted and effectively redressed”).
20
Id., para. 4.
108 abdul g. koroma

C. Human Rights

Human rights law has historically placed a strong emphasis on the

individual, leading scholars Henry Steiner and Philip Alston to con-
clude that “observers from different regions and cultures can agree that
the human rights movement … stems principally from the liberal tra-
dition of Western thought … [and n]o characteristic of the liberal tra-
dition is more striking than its emphasis on the individual”.21 In the
past few decades, however, it has been increasingly recognized that the
effective realization of individual rights is a community interest which
requires international solidarity. Indeed, the Institut de droit interna-
tional stated in article 1 of its resolution on “The Protection of Human
Rights and the Principle of Non-intervention in Internal Affairs of
States” in 1989 that the obligation of States to protect human rights
“implies a duty of solidarity among all States to ensure as rapidly as
possible the effective protection of human rights throughout the
world”.22
In addition to this general recognition of the importance of solidar-
ity to the human rights movement in the negative sense, solidarity in
the positive sense gained its own place in the human rights paradigm
with the advent in 1979 of the concept of “solidarity rights”. In his inau-
gural lecture at the International Human Rights Institute in Strasbourg,
Karel Vasak proposed the concept of “solidarity rights” (also known as
“third generation” rights), including the right to development, the right
to a healthy environment, and the right to peace.23 He explained that
such rights:
“are new in that they may both be invoked against the State and demanded
of it; but above all (and herein lies their essential characteristic) they can

21
H. J. Steiner / P. Alston, International Human Rights in Context: Law, Politics,
Morals, at 361–362 (2000).
22
Institut de droit international, The Protection of Human Rights and the Principle
of Non-intervention in Internal Affairs of States, Resolution at the session of Santiago
de Compostela, Article 1 (1989).
23
See, e.g., K. Vasak, Pour une troisième generation des droits de l’homme, in:
C. Swinarski (ed.), Studies and Essays on International Humanitarian Law and Red
Cross Principles, at 837 (1984); S. P. Marks, Emerging Human Rights: A New
Generation for the 1990s?, 33 Rutgers Law Review 435, at 441 (1981); C. Wellman,
Solidarity, the Individual, and Human Rights, 22 Human Rights Quarterly 639 (2000);
J. Donnelly, Third Generation Rights, in: C. Brolmann et al. (eds.), Peoples and
Minorities in International Law, at 119 (1993); D. Sanders, Collective Rights, 13 Human
Rights Quarterly 368 (1991).
 solidarity109

be realized only through the concerted efforts of all the actors on the
social scene: the individual, the State, public and private bodies and the
international community.”24
Considering this complete cooperation between individuals and
groups, the term “solidarity rights” is indeed appropriate.
A closer look at the legal structure of solidarity rights is useful in
understanding the complexity of solidarity in the current international
legal order. First, such rights impose joint obligations among States, as
opposed to the mere several obligations of the so-called first generation
(civil and political) and second generation (economic, social, and cul-
tural) human rights.25 Second, solidarity rights involve a group right
that is different from and additional to the classic individual right para-
digm.26 Third, in addition to the group (State) duty present in tradi-
tional human rights, solidarity rights recognize an individual duty
towards their fulfilment. Thus, while other human rights impose obli-
gations primarily upon States, third generation solidarity rights can
“not be realized without the concerted efforts of all the actors on the
social scene [including] the individual”.27 An important characteristic
of solidarity rights, therefore, is the emphasis on obligations (duties)
within the rights paradigm.28 Indeed, this emphasis on reciprocal and
inter-related duties is a hallmark of solidarity in the positive sense dis-
cussed above.
From these aspects of solidarity rights, we can develop a clearer
understanding concerning the general principle of solidarity in inter-
national law. Like solidarity rights, the emerging principle of solidarity
imposes joint obligations on States to address international problems,
whether they be environmental problems, refugee flows, threats to
peace and security, or otherwise. Secondly, and perhaps most impor-
tantly, the principle of solidarity, like solidarity rights, embodies a
changing notion of the importance of duty, be it individual or State
(group) duty. Just as solidarity rights are only realizable through a

24
 Vasak (note 23), at 839. Many additional solidarity rights have since been pro-
posed. See S. P. Marks, id. (suggesting other potential third generation rights such as
the right to food, the right to humanitarian assistance, the right to the satisfaction of
basic needs, and the right to disarmament).
25
Wellman (note 23), at 643.
26
Id., at 648.
27
Id., at 642–643.
28
J. Morgan-Foster, Third Generation Rights: What Islamic Law Can Teach the
International Human Rights Movement, 8 Yale Human Rights & Development Law
Journal 67, at 87–88 (2005).
110 abdul g. koroma

c­ ombination of individual and State (group) duties towards their fulfil-

ment, so the principle of solidarity in international law has at its core a
recognition of the duty that States have to both other States and the
individuals living in those States (positive solidarity).

D. Environmental law

The importance of international solidarity to the pursuit of effective

regimes for environmental protection is clear: The natural environ-
ment knows no borders and environmental pollution in one State will
affect neighbouring States and, ultimately, the entire international
community. Protection of the environment is a global problem which
demands an effective, coordinated and joint effort. The historical devel-
opment of international environmental law evidences a marked growth
in the recognition and application of the concept of solidarity. As we
have seen with respect to other areas, solidarity in environmental law
has followed a clear path comprised first of negative obligations and
increasingly made up also of positive State duties.
The first generation of environmental law imposed primarily
negative obligations on States to prevent harm towards neighbour-
ing States.29 For example, the Trail Smelter arbitral award concluded
that:
“no State has the right to use or permit the use of its territory in such a
manner as to cause injury by fumes in or to the territory of another or the
properties or persons therein, when the case is of serious consequence
and the injury is established by clear and convincing evidence”.30
Similarly, Principle 21 of the Stockholm Declaration of 1972 provides:
“States have, in accordance with the Charter of the United Nations and
the principles of international law, the sovereign right to exploit their
own resources pursuant to their own environmental policies, and the
responsibility to ensure that activities within their jurisdiction or control
do not cause damage to the environment of other States or of areas
beyond the limits of national jurisdiction.”31

29
Wellens (note 6), at 789.
30
Trail Smelter Case (United States v Canada), Decision of 11 March 1941, 3 RIAA.
1938, at 1965.
31
Stockholm Declaration on the Human Environment, document A/Conf. 48/14
(1972), Principle 21.
 solidarity111

At this stage, the concept of solidarity in the negative sense is clear:

States should avoid action which would cause environmental harm not
only to themselves, but also to their neighbours.
In the 1990s, international environmental law entered an important
second stage of development where the notion of solidarity in the posi-
tive sense became more clearly defined.32 First, recent environmental
provisions incorporate ‘positive’ solidarity through the “principle of
common but differentiated responsibility”.33 For example, Principle 7 of
the 1992 Rio Declaration provides:
“States shall cooperate in a spirit of global partnership to conserve, pro-
tect and restore the health and integrity of the Earth’s ecosystem. In view
of the different contributions to global environmental degradation, States
have common but differentiated responsibilities. The developed coun-
tries acknowledge the responsibility that they bear in the international
pursuit of sustainable development in view of the pressures their socie-
ties place on the global environment and of the technologies and finan-
cial resources they command.”34
Thus, according to the principle of common but differentiated respon-
sibilities, developed countries bear a certain financial responsibility to
developing countries to assist in sustainable development for the ulti-
mate benefit of all countries. In this way, modern environmental provi-
sions have moved beyond simple solidarity towards neighbouring
States to recognize the true interconnectivity of environmental prob-
lems and their required solutions: by assisting developing coun-
tries, developed countries help not only those developing countries,
but the international community as a whole, including their own
environment.
Secondly, recent environmental provisions have emphasized soli-
darity through their recognition of the principle of sustainable devel-
opment, which can be defined as “development which meets the need

32
R. St. J. Macdonald, Solidarity in the Practice and Discourse of Public International
Law, 8 Pace International Law Review 259, at 284 (1996).
33
Wolfrum (note 5), at 1094–1095 (citing Framework Convention on Climate
Change, 1992, Article 3(1) (requiring States parties to “protect the climate system for
the benefit of present and future generations of humankind, on the bases of equity and
in accordance with the common but differentiated responsibilities and respective
capabilities”)).
34
Rio Declaration on Environment and Development, UN Doc. A/CONF.151/26
(Vol. I) Principle 7 (1992),.
112 abdul g. koroma

of present and future generations”.35 Professor Wolfrum notes that the

principle of sustainable development is comprised of four elements:
“the need to preserve natural resources for the benefit of future genera-
tions, the aim of exploiting natural resources in a manner which is
rational, the equitable use of natural resources which means taking into
consideration the needs of other States, and, finally, the need to ensure
that environmental considerations are integrated in development plans
or policies.”36
It should be clear that each of these elements reflects the notion of soli-
darity. The element of intergenerational equity represents solidarity
between the current and future generations. The element of rational
exploitation of natural resources involves solidarity between all States,
which come under this same duty. The element of equitable use clearly
involves solidarity, since it requires cooperation for overall equality
at potential individual expense. The element concerning the integra-
tion of environmental considerations into development policies is
another example of solidarity between developing and developed
countries, because it requires them to consider a group interest–the
environment–even while addressing another concern: States’ develop-
ment needs.
Thirdly, and most importantly, the notion of positive solidarity has
been increasingly represented through concrete State duties to protect
and preserve the environment. For example, the 1990 Montreal
Protocol on Substances that Deplete the Ozone Layer provides for a
staged reduction in the consumption and production of chlorofluoro-
carbons,37 and limits trade with non-parties in such substances.38
Similarly, the Kyoto Protocol establishes legally binding commitments
for the reduction of greenhouse gases.39
Through the combination of these three developments, the notion
of solidarity has reached a new level in international environmental
law. Moving beyond a negative obligation simply not to harm one’s
immediate neighbours, it is now increasingly understood as a positive

35
Wolfrum (note 5), at 1094 (adopting the definition used in the Brundtland
Report, Our Common Future, 1987).
36
Id.
37
Montreal Protocol on Substances That Deplete the Ozone Layer, 16 September
1987, Article 3.
38
Id., Article 4.
39
Kyoto Protocol to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate
Change, 11 December 1997, Article 3.
 solidarity113

obligation towards the international community as a whole. Moving

beyond mere aspirational goals, the notion of solidarity in interna-
tional environmental law now manifests itself in concrete State duties.
Looking beyond the present generation, the principle of intergenera-
tional equity exemplifies a solidarity between the current generation
and future generations. Finally, the principle of sustainable develop-
ment represents an important solidarity between developing and
developed countries in environmental law, leading Patrick Széll to note
(referring to the 1990 amendment to the Vienna Convention for the
Protection of the Ozone Layer) that “[w]hen the history of interna-
tional environmental law comes to be written, 19 June 1990 will stand
out as a critical date” because “a large number of the world’s States
agreed, for the first time, on a financial regime to tackle, in a really
meaningful way, the interrelationship between environment and devel-
opment”.40 It is to this other important manifestation of solidarity–
international development law–that we now turn.

E. International development

The principle of solidarity has been considered “the very cornerstone”

of the international law of development.41 In the words of the
International Law Association’s 1986 Seoul Declaration on the
Progressive Development of Principles of Public International Law
relating to a New International Economic Order, “[t]he principle of
solidarity reflects the growing interdependence of economic develop-
ment, the growing recognition that States have to be made responsible
for the external effects of their economic policies and the growing
awareness that underdevelopment or wrong development of national
economies is also harmful to other nations and endangers the mainte-
nance of peace”.42 This principle was put into concrete terms in the
development context during the Second United Nations Development
Decade through General Assembly resolution 2626 of 24 October 1970

40
P. Széll, Ozone Layer and Climate Change, in: W. Lang et al (eds.), Environmental
Protection and International Law, at 167 (1991) (cited in Macdonald (note 32),
at 284).
41
W. Verwey, The principle of solidarity as a legal cornerstone of a new international
economic order, 12 North-South dialogue : a new international economic order, at 487
(1982).
42
International Law Association, Report of the Sixty-Second Conference Held at
Seoul, 24–30 August 1986, 5.
114 abdul g. koroma

calling on all developed countries to contribute a minimum of

0.7 per cent of their gross domestic product in official development
assistance.43
After this important milestone, the principle continues to play a cen-
tral role in development texts. The sixth special session of the General
Assembly in 1974 was dedicated entirely to the New International
Economic Order (“NIEO”), and “[t]he record of its oral debates evi-
dences a will to establish a new cooperative system of economic rela-
tions formed by the principle of solidarity”.44 The Preamble to the
Declaration Concerning the Establishment of a New International
Economic Order identifies the principles of equity, interdependence
and cooperation as bases for the NIEO.45 The Charter of Economic
Rights and Duties of States provides that “developed countries should
grant generalized preferential, non-reciprocal and non-discriminatory
treatment to developing countries”,46 while the latter may “grant trade
preferences to other developing countries without being obliged to
extend such preferences to developed countries”.47 Finally, the
Millennium Declaration of the United Nations General Assembly
counts the principle of solidarity as one of the six “fundamental values
… essential to international relations”.48 Its explanation of this principle
states:
“Solidarity. Global challenges must be managed in a way that distributes
the costs and burdens fairly in accordance with basic principles of equity
and social justice. Those who suffer or who benefit least deserve help
from those who benefit most.”49
Thus, the declaration views the principle of solidarity in the rather nar-
row sense of wealth distribution. At the same time, another of the six
fundamental values it identifies is “shared responsibility”, which it
defines as the sharing among nations of the responsibility for respond-
ing to international peace and security.50 Yet another is “respect for

43
GA Res. 2626 of 24 October 1970, para. 43.
44
Macdonald (note 32), at 263.
45
GA Declaration of 1 May 1974 Concerning the Establishment of a New
International Economic Order, 6th Special Session, Preamble.
46
 Charter of economic Rights and Duties of States, Article 19, annexed to GA Res.
3281 of 12 December 1974.
47
Id., Article 21.
48
GA Res. 55/2 of 8 September 2000, para. 6.
49
Id.
50
Id.
 solidarity115

nature”, which it defines as the management of living species and natu-

ral resources “in the interest of our future welfare and that of our
descendants”.51 Thus, taken together, one finds within this declaration
focused on development a definition of solidarity which is significantly
broader in scope, including solidarity in the context of collective secu-
rity and environmental law.
The principle of solidarity has also been increasingly present in
the international trade law regime. As Verwey explains, while inter­
national trade law has been traditionally based on rules concerning
trade restrictions, including most-favoured-nation treatment and
reciprocity,
“it is increasingly becoming marked by a third principle, that of co-
operation; indeed of solidarity, to the extent that the former two princi-
ples are being made subject to the demand that they should be prevented
from harming the particular interests of the less developed members of
the international community”.52
For example, the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT) was
amended as early as 1955 to provide developing contracting parties
with the right “to maintain sufficient flexibility in their tariff structure
to be able to grant the tariff protection required for the establishment
of a particular industry” and “to apply quantitative restrictions for bal-
ance of payments purposes in a manner which takes full account of the
continued high level of demand for imports likely to be generated by
their programmes of economic development”.53 In 1965, provisions on
Trade and Development were incorporated into the GATT, providing
that “[t]he developed contracting parties do not expect reciprocity for
commitments made by them in trade negotiations to reduce or remove
tariffs and other barriers to the trade of less developed contracting par-
ties”.54 In 1971, a general waiver was passed entitling developing coun-
tries to enforce the Generalized System of Preferences affording them
trade preferences on a non-reciprocal basis,55 and in 1979 the GATT
contracting parties voted unanimously that developing countries

51
Id.
 Verwey (note 41), at 489.
52
53
General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade, Basic Instruments and Selected
Documents, 3rd Supp., at 79 (1955).
54
Agreement No. 89 of the Contracting Parties, entered into force June 1966.
55
General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade, Basic Instruments and Selected
Documents, 18th Supp., 25 (1970/1971).
116 abdul g. koroma

should always be allowed such trade preferences under the extended

General System of Preferences.56
With the creation of the World Trade Organization, a special
Committee on Trade and Development was designated within the
Ministerial Conference to provide developing countries with a forum
to monitor and address the effects of the Agreements on their develop-
ment.57 Certain provisions within the WTO agreements also reflect the
principle of solidarity in the world trade regime. For example, article
IV of the General Agreement on Trade in Services provides that the
“participation of developing country Members in world trade shall be
facilitated through negotiated specific commitments” concerning “the
strengthening of their domestic services capacity … through access to
technology”, “the improvement of their access to distribution channels
and information networks” and “the liberalization of market access” in
sectors of export interest to developing countries.58 In the area of agri-
culture, the Decision on measures concerning the possible negative
effects of the reform programme on least-developed and net food-
importing developing countries provides that developing countries are
to be granted differential treatment in agreements relating to agricul-
tural export credits.59 In the area of intellectual property, the Agreement
on Trade Related Aspects of Intellectual Property Rights states that
intellectual property rights should be “conducive to social and eco-
nomic welfare”60 and provides that members may “adopt measures nec-
essary to protect public health and nutrition, and to promote the public
interest in sectors of vital importance to their socio-economic and
technological development”.61 Moreover, developing countries are
given increased time to comply with the agreement in the form of
“transition periods”.62
Thus, the notion of solidarity is a fundamental driving force in
international development and, since 1970, it has been evidenced by a

56
 Verwey (note 41), at 495–496.
57
Macdonald (note 32), at 272.
58
General Agreement on Trade in Services, entered into force January 1995,
Article IV.
59
World Trade Organization, Decision on measures concerning the possible nega-
tive effects of the reform programme on least-developed and net food-importing
developing countries, para. 4.
60
Agreement on Trade Related Aspects of Intellectual Property Rights, 15 April
1994, Article 7.
61
Id., Article 8.
62
Id., Arts. 65–66.
 solidarity117

concrete commitment by developed States to contribute 0.7 per cent of

their gross domestic product in official development assistance (posi-
tive solidarity). In the area of international trade, by contrast, solidarity
was perhaps not a formative principle of the regime as it was with
development assistance, but it has entered into the paradigm from an
early stage. The notion of negative solidarity was present in the GATT,
and is even more evident in the WTO regime.

F. Refugee law

The notion of international solidarity underpins efforts to protect the

world’s refugees. Indeed, the very creation of the post of High
Commissioner for Refugees is a cogent example of the international
community’s belief that the question of refugees was too large for any
one State to handle alone, necessarily requiring a joint effort under-
taken in solidarity.63 More recently, it has been noted that “[t]he sheer
intensity, scale and magnitude of the Rwandan tragedy … brought into
sharp focus the paramount moral duties of the international commu-
nity in terms of international solidarity and burden-sharing”.64
Although the 1951 Convention does not mention solidarity by
name, it does provide in its Preamble that “the grant of asylum may
place unduly heavy burdens on certain countries, and … a satisfac­
tory solution … cannot … be achieved without international co-
operation”.65 The principle of cooperation here thus serves a similar
role to that of solidarity: it premises the system of refugee protection on
the joint efforts of States, acknowledging that the problem is too large
for any one State. Other instruments for the protection of refugees,
including the United Nations Declaration on Territorial Asylum66 and

63
A. Grahl-Madsen, International Solidarity and the Protection of Refugees, 19
AWR Bulletin 4 (1981); J.-P. L. Fonteyne, Burden-Sharing: An Analysis of the Nature
and Function of International Solidarity in cases of Mass Influx of Refugees,
8 Australian Yearbook of International Law 162, at 179–180 (1978–1979).
64
G. Martin, International Solidarity and Co-operation in Assistance to African
Refugees: Burden-Sharing or Burden-Shifting?, International journal of refugee law,
special issue summer 1995, 250, at 251.
65
 Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees, 28 July 1951, Preamble.
66
GA Res. 2312 (XXII) of 14 December 1967, Article 2(2) (“Where a State finds
difficulty in granting or continuing to grant asylum, States individually or jointly or
through the United Nations shall consider, in a spirit of international solidarity, appro-
priate measures to lighten the burden on that State.”).
118 abdul g. koroma

the OAU Convention Governing the Specific Aspects of Refugee

Problems in Africa, have mentioned solidarity explicitly.67
Guy Martin has divided solidarity in refugee law into three
components:
“A basic principle of refugee law is international solidarity. It is the prin-
ciple of solidarity which establishes (1) that the refugee is a person of
concern to the international community; (2) the obligation to extend
refugee status/accord protection to those compelled to flee persecution
or communal violence and to treat them with dignity; and (3) that States
have an obligation to share the responsibility of finding durable solutions
for the people who have been deprived of a community.”68
This principle is illustrated, for example, by the principle of non-
refoulement, according to which “[n]o Contracting State shall expel or
return (‘refouler’) a refugee in any manner whatsoever to the frontiers
of territories where his life or freedom would be threatened on account
of his race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social
group or political opinion”.69 Saito concludes that “the strict observance
of the principle of non-refoulement, cannot work appropriately without
appeal to international solidarity”70 because the principle acts as a
guarantee to the admitting State that the international community will
provide assistance to the afflicted State, such that the admitting State is
only required to provide a temporary and not permanent refuge.71
In the case of large-scale refugee movements, “the significance of …
international solidarity and assistance … is especially apparent”72 and
“burden-sharing is a virtual prerequisite to the effective operation of a
comprehensive non-refoulement policy”.73 Because of the magnitude of
the influx and the great variety of refugees each with different legal
situations, solidarity requires States to adopt “a generous admissions
policy for a satisfactory overall response”.74

67
 OAU Convention Governing the Specific Aspects of Refugee Problems in Africa,
10 September 1969, Article 2(4) (“Where a Member State finds difficulty in continuing
to grant asylum to refugees, such Member State may appeal directly to other Member
States and through the OAU, and such other Member States shall in the spirit of African
solidarity and international cooperation take appropriate measures to lighten the bur-
den of the Member State granting asylum.”).
68
Martin (note 64), at 253.
69
 Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees, 28 July 1951, Article 33(1).
70
 Y. Saito, Refugee Rights, in: M. Bedjaoui, International Law: Achievements and
Prospects, 1131, at 1141 (1991).
71
Id., at 1142.
72
Id.
73
Martin (note 64), at 253.
74
Saito (note 70), at 1142.
 solidarity119

The Executive Committee on the International Protection of Refu-

gees clearly highlighted the importance of solidarity to international
refugee law in its Conclusion No. 22 (XXXII), in which it included a
section entitled “International solidarity, burden-sharing and duties of
States”.75 Therein it stated that:
“A mass influx may place unduly heavy burdens on certain countries; a
satisfactory solution of a problem, international in scope and nature,
cannot be achieved without international co-operation. States shall,
within the framework of international solidarity and burden-sharing,
take all necessary measures to assist, at their request, States which have
admitted asylum-seekers in large-scale influx situations.”76
It also stated that governments should act “[i]n a spirit of international
solidarity” to ensure that causes for large-scale refugee influxes are
removed.77
Thus, solidarity manifests itself in international refugee law both as
a commitment and as a guarantee for that commitment. It begins with
the acknowledgment of all States that the refugee crisis transcends
boundaries and requires a global response. It is a commitment, in the
context of non-refoulement, by States not to return a refugee to a State
where his or her life or freedom would be threatened on account of his
race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or
political opinion (negative solidarity). At the same time, it is a guaran-
tee to that commitment in the sense that other States–both the home
State and third States–work to resolve the root cause of the crisis (posi-
tive solidarity) so that the receiving State’s contribution to the refugee’s
temporary well-being will not necessarily entail a permanent commit-
ment. It is this reciprocal element entailing duties held by multiple
States that is the true hallmark of the more mature, positive, form of
solidarity.

G. Responsibility to Protect

Perhaps the newest and most controversial manifestation of the

notion of solidarity in international law is the emerging doctrine of the

75
Executive Committee on the International Protection of Refugees, Conclusion
No. 22 (XXXII), Thirty-Second session (1981), in: Conclusions Adopted by the
Executive Committee on the International Protection of Refugees (1975–2004), 36,
at 39.
76
Id., at 39, para. 1.
77
Id., at 39–40, para. 6.
120 abdul g. koroma

responsibility to protect. The concept of responsibility to protect was

developed by the International Commission on Intervention and State
Sovereignty in September 2000, after Secretary General Kofi Annan
emphasized the grave failure of the international community to handle
gross and systematic violations of human rights such as those perpe-
trated in Rwanda and Srebrenica.78 Building on the work of Francis
M. Deng,79 as well as the concept of a devoir d’ingérence developed in
the French academic literature in the 1990s,80 the responsibility to pro-
tect doctrine derives the basis for State sovereignty from a responsibil-
ity to its inhabitants,81 rather than from control over those inhabitants
or from sovereign equality with other States. From this point of depar-
ture, responsibility to protect re-conceives the controversial doctrine of
humanitarian intervention as a responsibility (to protect) rather than a
right (to intervene).82
The responsibility to protect concept has been subsequently adopted
or referred to in multiple contexts. First, in July 2004, the language of
responsibility to protect was invoked in the Security Council debate
concerning resolution 1556 on Darfur. In particular, the Philippines
made direct reference to the responsibility to protect concept, stating,
“Sovereignty also entails the responsibility of a State to protect its peo-
ple. If it is unable or unwilling to do so, the international community
has the responsibility to help that State achieve such capacity and such
will and, in extreme necessity, to assume such responsibility itself.”83
The United Kingdom similarly referred to “the most basic of a Govern­
ment’s obligations to its own people: the obligation to protect them–
something that the Government of Sudan has so far failed to do”.84

78
Report of the Secretary-General on the Work of the Organization, document
A/54/1, at 48 (31 August 1999).
79
 F. M. Deng / S. Kimaro / T. Lyons / D. Rothchild / I. W. Zartman, Sovereignty as
Responsibility: Conflict Management in Africa (1996); F. M. Deng, Frontiers of
Sovereignty, 8 Leiden Journal of International Law 249 (1995).
80
See, e.g., M. Bettati / B. Kouchner (eds.), Le Devoir D’Ingérence: Peut-On les
Laisser Mourir? (1987).
81
International Commission on Intervention and State Sovereignty, The
Responsibility to Protect: Report of the International Commission on Intervention
and State Sovereignty, para. 2.14 (Ottawa: International Development Research
Council, 2001).
82
Id., para. 2.29.
83
5015th meeting of the Security Council, Friday, 30 July, 10 a.m., UN Doc. S/
PV.5015, 10–11.
84
Id., at 5.
 solidarity121

France emphasized that “[t]he primary responsibility of the

Government of Sudan is to protect its population”.85
Second, in December, 2004, the report of the High-Level Panel on
Threats, Challenges and Change referred to an “emerging norm of col-
lective international responsibility to protect” and elaborated that:
“there is a growing acceptance that while sovereign Governments have
the primary responsibility to protect their own citizens from such catas-
trophes, when they are unable or unwilling to do so that responsibility
should be taken up by the wider international community–with it span-
ning a continuum involving prevention, response to violence, and
rebuilding shattered societies.”86
Third, in March 2005, the Secretary-General referred to the High-Level
Panel’s statement of an emerging norm of collective international
responsibility to protect and emphasized: “I believe that we must
embrace the responsibility to protect, and, when necessary, we must act
on it”.87 Fourth, in September 2005 the World Summit Outcome
Document took up the concept, stating:
“Each individual State has the responsibility to protect its populations
from genocide, war crimes, ethnic cleansing and crimes against human-
ity. This responsibility entails the prevention of such crimes, including
their incitement, through appropriate and necessary means. We accept
that responsibility and will act in accordance with it. …. The interna-
tional community, through the United Nations, also has the responsibil-
ity to use appropriate diplomatic, humanitarian and other peaceful
means, in accordance with Chapters VI and VIII of the Charter, to help
to protect populations from genocide, war crimes, ethnic cleansing and
crimes against humanity.”88
Fifth, on 28 April, 2006, the Security Council in resolution 1674 “[r]
eaffirm[ed] the provisions of paragraphs 138 and 139 of the 2005 World
Summit Outcome Document regarding the responsibility to protect
populations from genocide, war crimes, ethnic cleansing and crimes
against humanity”.89 Sixth, in Security Council resolution 1706 of

85
Id., at 9.
86
A More Secure World: Our Shared Responsibility, Report of the High-Level Panel
on Threats, Challenges and Change, UN Doc. A/59/565 (2004), paras. 201–202.
87
In Larger Freedom: Towards Development, Security and Human Rights for All,
Report of the Secretary-General, UN Doc. A/59/2005 (2005), para. 135 (emphasis in
original).
88
2005 World Summit Outcome document, UN Doc. A/RES/60/1 (24 October
2005), at 30, paras. 138–139.
89
SC Res. 1674 of 28 April 2006, para. 4.
122 abdul g. koroma

31 August 2006, the authority granted to the UN force in Sudan

(UNMIS) under Chapter VII of the UN Charter was “without
prejudice to the responsibility of the Government of the Sudan … to
protect civilians under threat of physical violence”.90 Seventh, several
States, including Portugal,91 Sierra Leone92 and Morocco,93 have voiced
support for the codification of the responsibility to protect doctrine by
the ILC.
The concept of responsibility to protect has been criticized in some
circles as constituting nothing more than humanitarian intervention
by another name, repackaged as a responsibility rather than a right so
as to be more palatable to the international community. To the extent
that solidarity constitutes a principle of international law, however,
responsibility to protect is indeed legally distinguishable from humani-
tarian intervention. As in the other areas of international law discussed
in this contribution, the notion of solidarity in its more mature, ­positive
manifestation is represented in the legal paradigm by the presence of
inter-related international duties, and that is precisely what one finds in
the emerging doctrine of responsibility to protect. The question which
remains for the international community–and upon which the legiti-
macy of responsibility to protect rests–is whether the doctrine can be
applied in a consistent manner to the four threats mentioned in the
2005 World Summit Outcome document.94 It is only upon evidence of
a consistent practice with regard to each occurrence of such threat–
rather than the selective practice typical of humanitarian intervention,

90
SC Res. 1706 of 31 August 2006, para. 12(a).
91
UNGA, Sixth Committee, summary record of the twenty-fourth meeting, held
at Headquarters, New York, on Monday, 8 November 2004, at 2.30 p.m., UN
Doc. A/C.6/59/SR.24, 2, para. 4 (18 November 2004) (“With regard to new topics
for inclusion in the Commission’s current and long-term work programmes, the
question of whether and under what conditions the international community and
States had a responsibility to protect in cases of massive violations of human rights
would be an appropriate item to add to the agenda.”).
92
UNGA, Sixth Committee, summary record of the seventeenth meeting, Held at
Headquarters, New York, on Monday, 31 October 2005, at 11 a.m., UN Doc. A/C.6/60/
SR.17, at 4, para. 17 (28. November 2005) (“[The Commission] should … include in its
work programme the topic of … the doctrine of responsibility to protect.”).
93
UNGA, Sixth Committee, summary record of the eleventh meeting, held at
Headquarters, New York, on Monday, 24 October 2005, at 10 a.m., UN Doc. A/C.6/60/
SR.11, at 9, para. 48 (23 November 2005) (“The Committee should consider whether
the Commission should be requested to examine various important topics that had
arisen in connection with United Nations reform, such as the responsibility to
protect.”).
94
See supra note 88.
 solidarity123

all too often as a function of the intervening State’s self interest–that we

can assess whether the emerging principle of solidarity has indeed cre-
ated a doctrine of responsibility to protect legitimately distinguishable
from humanitarian intervention. In such a case, the emphasis on a
responsibility to protect instead of a right to intervene could be consid-
ered a direct legal consequence of the paradigm created by the addition
of the principle of solidarity rather than mere ‘window-dressing’ to
ease sovereignty concerns traditionally raised with respect to humani-
tarian intervention.

H. International law of disaster relief

Perhaps nowhere is the growing importance of the notion of solidarity

more evident than in the developing international law of disaster relief.
Unlike other areas of international law and international relations–
where States frequently act in their own self-interest, even if it is in
cooperation–the entire premise of disaster relief is that States and other
actors will endeavour to act in favour of another State, not out of self
interest but rather motivated by what could only be called solidarity.95
Nowhere could there be a more transparent example of the growing
principle of solidarity in international law. Indeed, almost every mod-
ern disaster relief effort involves multiple actors cooperating in solidar-
ity towards the ultimate goal of relief for victims, including assisting
State(s), transit State(s), the receiving State, non-governmental relief
organizations, and inter-governmental relief organizations.
The growth of this area of international law has been phenomenal.
Following the dissolution of the International Relief Union96 at the
conclusion of the League of Nations,97 there was no multilateral treaty

95
Indeed, in his comprehensive study on the international law relating to disaster
relief prepared during the drafting of the Draft Convention on Expediting the Delivery
of Emergency Assistance of 1984, Dr. J. Toman called the principle of cooperation “a
fundamental dynamic force for the promotion of international relief ”. Convention for
Expediting Emergency Relief: Report presented by J. Toman (UNDRO, 1983), at 93.
The same could be said for the principle of solidarity.
96
 Convention and Statute Establishing an International Relief Union, opened for
signature 12 July 1927, 135 LNTS 247 (entered into force 27 December 1932); Tampere
Convention on the Provision of Telecommunication Resources for Disaster Mitigation
and Relief Operations, opened for signature 18 June 1998 (entered into force 8 January
2005).
97
P. Macalister-Smith, International Humanitarian Assistance: Disaster Relief
Actions in International Law and Organization, at 18–21 (1985).
124 abdul g. koroma

of universal scope relating to the protection of persons affected by

natural disasters. Despite–or perhaps because of–this lack of an over-
arching universal text, the international law of disaster relief has devel-
oped rapidly in other ways. First, it is now estimated that there are over
150 bilateral treaties and memoranda of understanding concerning
disaster relief assistance.98 Second, important multilateral conventions,
such as the Tampere Convention on the Provision of Telecommuni­
cation Resources for Disaster Mitigation and Relief Operations of 1998,
have been concluded which cover certain aspects of disaster relief.99
Third, multiple significant regional agreements have been concluded,
including the Agreement Establishing the Caribbean Disaster Emer­
gency Response Agency (1991),100 the Inter-American Convention to
Facilitate Disaster Assistance (1991),101 and the ASEAN Agreement on
Disaster Management and Emergency Response (2005).102 Fourth,
model rules or declarations have been developed in a number of set-
tings, including the International Law Association Draft Model
Agreement on International Medical and Humanitarian Law of 1980;103
the UNITAR Model Rules for Disaster Relief Operations of 1982;104 the
Institut de droit international Resolution on Humanitarian Assistance
of 2003;105 and the Inter-Agency Standing Committee Operational
Guidelines on Human Rights and Natural Disasters, finalized in
2006.106
Fifth, the General Assembly has addressed the issue of disaster relief
in several key resolutions, including resolution 43/131 on Humanitarian

    98
See Secretariat Study, UN Doc. A/CN.4/590, Annex II for a complete listing.
 Tampere Convention on the Provision of Telecommunication Resources for
    99

Disaster Mitigation and Relief Operations, 1998.

100
Agreement Establishing the Caribbean Disaster Emergency Response Agency,
26 February 1991.
101
Inter-American Convention to Facilitate Disaster Assistance, 7 June 1991.
102
ASEAN Agreement on Disaster Management and Emergency Response, 26 July
2005, ASEAN Documents Series 2005, at 157.
103
Reproduced in Report of the 59th Conference of the International Law
Association, held at Belgrade, 17 to 23 August 1980, at 520–527.
104
M. El Baradei et al., Model Rules for Disaster Relief Operations, Policy and
efficacy studies, no. 8 (New York: United Nations Institute for Training and Research
(UNITAR), 1982).
105
Adopted at the Bruges Session, 2 September 2003, Annuaire de l’Institut de Droit
International, vol. 70-I, 2002–2003, at 399–576, Annuaire de l’Institut de Droit
International, vol. 71-II, 2004, at 133–250, following ten years of work on the topic.
106
 Operational Guidelines on Human Rights and Natural Disasters, approved by a
Working Group of the Inter-Agency Standing Committee, of the United Nations, on 9
June 2006.
 solidarity125

assistance to victims of natural disasters and similar emergency situa-

tions in 1988,107 and resolution 45/100 on Humanitarian assistance to
victims of natural disasters and similar emergency situations in 1990.108
After emphasizing the “primary role” of affected States “in the initia-
tion, organization, coordination, and implementation of humanitarian
assistance within their respective territories”, these resolutions reflect a
notion of positive solidarity by recognizing the contribution to disaster
relief made by inter-governmental and non-governmental organiza-
tions,109 appealing to all States to support the efforts of such organiza-
tions,110 and urging neighbouring States in particular to work closely in
disaster relief efforts.111
As with other areas discussed in this contribution, the international
law of disaster relief reflects the concept of solidarity through its
emphasis on combined efforts to solve a problem that is bigger than the
capacity of any one State (negative solidarity). Moreover, it appears to
create an inter-related set of duties to this end, with various and differ-
ing responsibilities lying with the affected State, the neighbouring
States, other assisting States, intergovernmental organizations, and
non-governmental organizations (positive solidarity). Now that this
topic has been taken up by the International Law Commission,112 one
of the primary challenges in the work of the Commission on the topic–
and one of the greatest contributions it could make to the topic–would
be to more clearly delineate the legal scope of the responsibility lying
with each of these various actors. This task is a daunting one, but refer-
ence can be made to the previous effort of Professor Schindler,113 based
in large part on presumed parallels with the various duties existing
under international humanitarian law discussed above.114 If the differ-
ent responsibilities of the various actors involved in the international
provision of disaster relief can be further clarified, not only will the
provision of disaster relief be simplified, but the true meaning of the
notion of solidarity in this context can be understood.

107
GA Res. 43/131 of 8 December 1988.
108
GA Res. 45/100 of 14 December 1990.
109
GA Res., para. 3; GA Res. 45/100, para. 3.
110
GA Res. 43/131, para. 5; GA Res. 45/100, para. 5.
111
GA Res. 43/131, para. 6; GA Res. 45/100, para. 7.
112
Report of the International Law Commission on the Work of its fifty-ninth ses-
sion, at 230, para. 375 (2007).
113
Schindler (note 13).
114
See supra notes 14–18 and accompanying text.
126 abdul g. koroma

I. State responsibility

While this contribution has thus far discussed the notion of solidarity
within the primary rules of international law, the growing relevance of
solidarity within the secondary norms is not to be underestimated. As
is well known, this question was debated over the course of many years
in the International Law Commission in the context of its discussion of
the definition of ‘injured State’115 within its Draft Articles on State
Responsibility. The I.L.C. draft adopted at first reading in 1996 pro-
vided an extremely broad definition of ‘injury’. In particular, draft arti-
cle 40 stated that “if the right infringed by the act of a State arises from
a multilateral treaty or from a rule of customary international law, any
other State party to the multilateral treaty or bound by the relevant rule
of customary international law” could consider itself injured by its
breach, if, inter alia, “it is established that … the right has been created
… for the protection of human rights and fundamental freedoms”.116
Because of the multiple concerns raised with such a broad definition,117
the new Draft Articles developed towards second reading split the
totality of States that had been defined as ‘injured’ in the 1996 Articles
into two categories: (1) ‘injured States’ and (2) ‘States other than injured
States’ in the case of violation of obligations owed to a group of States
or to the international community as a whole, that is, obligations erga
omnes.118 The latter group could resort to countermeasures only in
cases of ‘serious breach’, that is, “gross or systematic failure by the
responsible States to fulfil the obligation, risking substantial harm
to the fundamental interests protected thereby”,119 “at the request and
on behalf of any State injured by the breach”120 or “in the interest of
the beneficiaries of the obligation breached”.121 Because even these

115
See, e.g., A. Gattini, A Return Ticket to ‘Communitarisme’, Please, 13 European
Journal of International Law 1181 (2002).
116
Report of the International Law Commission, Forty-eighth Session, General
Assembly Official Records, Fifty-first session., Suppl. No. 10, UN Doc. A/51/10.
117
See, e.g., Third Report on State Responsibility by Mr. James Crawford, Special
Rapporteur, UN Doc. A/CN.4/507, para. 87 (4 August 2000) (arguing that such a broad
definition would serve “to translate human rights into States’ rights”).
118
See Draft Articles provisionally adopted by the Drafting Committee on second
reading, U.N. GAOR Int’l L. Comm’n, 52d Sess., UN Doc. A/CN.4/L.600, Arts. 43, 49
(2000).
119
Id., Article 41 (2).
120
Id., Article 54 (1).
121
Id., Article 54 (2).
 solidarity127

l­ imitations on the actions of States other than the directly injured State
could not quell criticism,122 the final version of the draft articles reduced
the provision to a saving clause reserving to such States the right to take
“lawful measures”.123
Although this formal recognition of solidarity in the Articles on
State Responsibility was gradually reduced over the course of the
Commission’s work, when one looks behind the saving clause which
ultimately resulted, a growing practice can be discerned. In his recent
study on the enforcement of obligations erga omnes, Christian Tams
has undertaken an exhaustive examination of State practice on collec-
tive countermeasures in order to “answer the question left open by arti-
cle 54”,124 concluding “that in at least thirteen cases, States not
individually injured have taken countermeasures in response to previ-
ous wrongful acts of another State”.125 To cite just a few of the many
examples he offers, in 1995 European and Commonwealth States
adopted a variety of measures against Nigeria–including a sports boy-
cott, travel restrictions, and suspension from the Commonwealth
Organization–in response to the execution of Nigerian dissident Ken
Saro-Wiwa and eight of his associates; in 1996 East African States took
several countermeasures against Burundi–including the adoption of a
trade embargo, the cutting of air links, and the imposition of a travel
ban on its new leaders–in response to the banning of opposition par-
ties; and in 2003, the European Community and the United States
adopted economic sanctions against Zimbabwe, and the Commonwealth
suspended Zimbabwe from membership in response to the perceived

122
As Crawford noted: “A number of governments were concerned at the possibility
of freezing an area of law still very much in the process of development. For others,
Article 54 raised controversial issues about the balance between law enforcement and
intervention. It reopened questions about the linkage between individual State action
and collective measures under the United Nations Charter or regional arrangements.
Thus the thrust of government comments, both from those generally supportive of and
those hostile to countermeasures, was that Article 54, and especially paragraph 2, had
only a doubtful basis in international law and would be destabilizing.” J. Crawford, The
International Law Commission’s Articles on State Responsibility, 56 (2002).
123
Draft Articles on the Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts,
adopted by the International Law Commission at its fifty-third session, 2001, annexed
to GA Res. 56/83 of 12 December 2001, Article 54.
124
 C. Tams, Enforcing Obligations Erga Omnes in International Law, 200 (2005).
Special Rapporteur Crawford also provided a more extensive elaboration of State
practice in his Third Report, UN Doc. A/CN.4/507/Add.4, at 14–16, paras. 391–392
(4 August 2000).
125
Id., at 229.
128 abdul g. koroma

efforts of the Zimbabwean Government to undermine democratic pro-

cesses in the country and contribute to the deliberate breakdown of the
rule of law.126
These developments have been paralleled by a growing recognition
of the principle of solidarity within State responsibility at the
International Court of Justice. This process traces its roots to the judg-
ment of the International Court of Justice in Barcelona Traction, which
has come to be considered an important foundation for the concept of
erga omnes–and hence solidarity–in international law.127 In that case,
the Court found occasion to enforce the concept of erga omnes norms
in international law, and in perhaps its most famous dictum, the Court
said:
“[A]n essential distinction should be drawn between the obligations of a
State towards the international community as a whole, and those arising
vis-à-vis another State in the field of diplomatic protection. By their very
nature the former are the concern of all States. … [A]ll States can be held
to have a legal interest in their protection; they are obligations erga
omnes.”128
The Court then provided a non-exhaustive list of such obligations,
including the prohibition of aggression, genocide, and “principles and
rules concerning the basic rights of the human person, including pro-
tection from slavery and racial discrimination”.129 This recognition of
obligations which are “the concern of all States”, combined with the
recognition one year earlier of jus cogens norms in the final version of
the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties,130 constitutes an essen-
tial foundation for the concept of solidarity in international law.
As we have seen in multiple areas discussed above, the development
of the emerging principle of solidarity is evident in the gradual move
from negative to positive obligations, and State responsibility is no
exception. In this regard, the Advisory Opinion of the Court on the
Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied
Palestinian Territory131 provided important details on the precise duties

126
Id., at 220–225.
127
Barcelona Traction, Light and Power Company, Limited, Second Phase, ICJ
Reports 1970, at 3.
128
Id., at 32, para. 33.
129
Id.
130
 Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, 23 May 1969, 1155 UNTS 331,
Article 53.
131
Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian
Territory, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Reports 2004, at 136.
 solidarity129

of various States which together comprise the principle of solidarity in

State responsibility. After concluding that the construction of the wall
constituted violations of Israel’s obligations under the International
Covenant on Civil and Political Rights and the International Covenant
on Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights,132 and that “the obligations
violated by Israel include certain obligations erga omnes”,133 the Court
stated:
“Given the character and the importance of the rights and obligations
involved, the Court is of the view that all States are under an obligation
not to recognize the illegal situation resulting from the construction of
the wall in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including in and around
East Jerusalem. They are also under an obligation not to render aid or
assistance in maintaining the situation created by such construction. It is
also for all States, while respecting the United Nations Charter and inter-
national law, to see to it that any impediment, resulting from the con-
struction of the wall, to the exercise by the Palestinian people of its right
to self-determination is brought to an end.”134
Thus, the Court was clear that violations of human rights law by Israel
created obligations on the part of other States, a point which is specifi-
cally reiterated in the dispositif.135 This constitutes clear recognition of
the notion of positive solidarity in the secondary norms of interna-
tional law by the United Nations’ principal legal organ.

J. Concluding remarks

This tour through many important areas of international law leaves lit-
tle doubt that the notion of solidarity to the development of which
Rüdiger Wolfrum has contributed greatly, has become a consistent and
meaningful presence in the current international legal order. Indeed, in
virtually every area under review, solidarity often began as an oblique
reference–to community, neighbourliness, or the common good–but
has since given way to concrete, interrelated negative and even positive
State obligations.

132
Id., paras. 134, 137.
133
Id., para. 155 (citing Barcelona Traction (note 128), para. 33).
134
Id., paras. 159–160.
135
Id., para. 163(3)(D).
 The Solidarity Principle, Francisco de Vitoria
and the Protection of Indigenous Peoples

Vicente Marotta Rangel

One of the main tasks envisaged by Rüdiger Wolfrum for himself and
for other scholars is to “fathom where we stand in respect to this prin-
ciple referred to as solidarity, in so far it is mentioned in statements of
international organizations, regional system and very much in litera-
ture”.1 In view of this precise commitment, the distinguished author
has clarified his purpose in an article in which after an introduction
(Chapter A), he envisages solidarity as a structural principle in the
international system either on the protection of peace (Chapter B) and
international environmental law (Chapter C), or in Part XI of the
Convention on the Law of the Sea (Chapter D). By “principles” is meant
those originating directly from international legal relations. Later, the
following was raised and discussed: “humanitarian assistance (inter-
vention) as a form of solidarity?” (Chapter E). In the concluding
remarks (Chapter F), the author notes that “some modern parts of
international law are being based upon common values of the interna-
tional community or have an objective to ameliorate disputes among
States”, although “the corresponding procedural rules necessary to fully
implement the ensuing obligations and responsibilities are still to be
developed”.2
In a section of the same article, dealing with “some historical remi-
niscence”, Wolfrum notes that “the principle of solidarity as a structural
principle is actually not a new one”, since it “was discussed in the 17th
to the 19th century, significantly influenced by the perception of a uni-
versitas christiana based upon Christian values”. Mention was made, in
this respect, of Samuel von Pufendorf, Christian Wolff and Emery de
Vattel and their respective books: De Officio Hominis et Civis (1673),
Gentium Methodo Scientifica Pertractatum (1794) and Le Droit des
Gens ou Principes de la Loi Naturelle (1.758).3

1
R. Wolfrum / C. Kojima (eds.), Solidarity: A Structural Principle of International
Law, 255 (2009).
2
R. Wolfrum, Solidarity amongst States: An Emerging Structural Principle of
International Law, 49 Indian Journal of International Law, 20 (2009).
3
Id., at 10–11.
132 vicente marotta rangel

In order to elucidate this historical background on the solidarity

principle, may I refer specifically to another author, even a precursor to
those already mentioned. I mean Francisco de Vitoria, included, of
course, in the previous and general allusion to “the perception of a uni-
versitas christiana based upon Christian values”, and not there specifi-
cally named, for the simple reason that he lived before the seventeenth
century, just in the formative period the modern State. Now, certainly,
the principle of solidarity, after the passing of many years, “has become
a catalyst, triggering both a normative and an operational dynamic,
although the degree of its penetration varies between the branches”,4
and has also concretely been the origin of, in recent times, the so-called
“solidarity rights” encompassing those relating to development, peace,
the environment, humanitarian assistance, often labelled human rights
of the third generation.5
Mention of Francisco de Vitoria is made by Wolfrum in another
essay, dealing with indigenous peoples in international law, that is to
say peoples who “have lost rights concerning the land they tradition-
ally occupied, and the possibility to develop and sustain a community
reflecting their particular values”. “Apart from that”, Wolfrum adds,
“these people face the danger of losing their identity or, at least, they
face difficulties adjusting their traditional values or customs to new
conditions of life”, just for saying further that attempts “to provide an
adequate protection of indigenous peoples date back to the 16th cen-
tury when Francisco de Vitoria suggested the legal principles of indig-
enous peoples had to be respected”.6 It is, of course, an example of the
solidarity principle recognized and proclaimed at the beginning of the
Modern Age.

A. Francisco de Vitoria: Life and Impact

Recent criticism has been addressed to these ancient and illustrious

authors, as reported by Georg Cavallar,7 in order to suggest that their

4
K. Wellens, Revisiting solidarity as a (re-) emerging contitutional principle: some
further reflections, in: Wolfrum / Kojima (note 1), at 36.
5
C. Tomuschat, Solidarity Rights, in: R. Bernhardt (Ed.), Encyclopedia of
International Law, Vol. 4, 422 (1st Ed. 2000).
6
R. Wolfrum, The Protection of Indigenous Peoples in International Law, 59
Zeitschrift für ausländisches öffentliches Recht und Völkerrecht 369, at 370 (1999).
7
C. Cavallar, Vitoria, Grotius, Pufendorf, Wolff and Vattel: Accomplices of European
Colonialism and Explotation of True Cosmopolitans?, 10 Journal of History of
International Law, 181 (2008).
 the solidarity principle133

theoretical contribution was not entirely destituted of ideological and

political factors relating to their contemporary society. Even so, their
contribution deserves recognition and praise. Restricted to Francisco
de Vitoria’s doctrine, this paper intends to acknowledge that, even of
course circumscribed by the political and social problems of his life-
time, the celebrated University theologist deserves up to now to be
qualified as one of international law’s eminent founders.
Doubts have arisen, nevertheless, in relation to some aspects of his
teaching and even of his life; for instance, as to the date and place of his
birth. According to a recent and accurate research, we learn that he was
born on the same year as the discovery of a foreign continent and not
in Vitoria, the chief town of Alava, but in Burgos.8 Other facts in his
biography remain well established. Fourteen years later, for instance,
he entered the Dominican Order. After the conclusion of the novitiate
and having been sent by his superiors to Paris, where the Order had a
college, he obtained the degree of licentiate in theology on 24 March
1521. After becoming professor at the University of Paris, he was
appointed first regent of the College of Saint Gregory at Valladolid.
From 7 September 1526 until his death (12 August 1546), he occupied
the primary chair of theology at the University of Salamanca. His
courses as well as his lectures, named relectiones, have come down to us
in part. He did not write them. Some former students collected and
printed them under the title Relectiones Theologicae, the first edition of
which appeared at Lyon in 1557, followed by many others.
The more recent edition seems to have been published in 1960, in
Madrid, by the editor BAC (Biblioteca de Autores Cristianos), Madrid,
under the Friburg University Professor Teofilo Urdanoz’s supervision.
The Dominican Francisco de Vitoria, followed by the Jesuit Francisco
Suarez, was nominated as the greatest among the scholastics of his
time. Both were versed not only in theology but also in legal science,
with theology in the lead. Francisco de Vitoria, for instance, was
well known by Hugo Grotius, who referred to him either in Mare
Liberum and De Jure Praedae or in De Jure Belli ac Pacis.9 He was
also mentioned by Alberico Gentili in De Jure Belli, published in 1612,
and by Samuel Pufendorf in De Jure Naturae et Gentium, edited in

8
T. Urdanoz, Obras de Francisco de Vitoria, 5 (1960).
9
E. Nys, in: J. Brown Scott (ed.), The Classics of International Law, 15 (1916). See
also A. Getino, Relecciones Teológicas del Maestro Francisco de Vitoria, at XI ss.
(1935), L. Garcia Arias, Los Internacionalistas clásicos extranjeros, 72 Ciencia Tomista,
151 (1947).
134 vicente marotta rangel

1672.10 The Dominican contributed, as Wolfrum noted,11 to the defense

of the of legal principles of indigenous peoples. He lived, indeed, in the
glorious years of the sixteenth century, when took place, the greatness
of an event, “in others words, the addition of an immense field to the
theatre of human activity and the inclusion of the whole globe within
the scope of man’s political activities”.12

B. The Historical Context

Because of his experience and knowledge as theologist and professor in

Paris and mostly at the University of Salamanca where he remained for
twenty years, Vitoria acquired prestige and authority within and
beyond the circle of his colleagues and students. Although circum-
scribed by the ambit of his personal duties, he was impelled to be
acquainted with the main contemporary problems relating to his coun-
try and the whole globe. These problems were circumscribed in a spe-
cial way by four events: the discovery of America; the rise of national
States; the Reformation; and the relationship between, on one side, the
Spaniards and, on the other side, the Indians then recently discovered
in America. In his lifetime, hegemony among the European nations
indeed fell to Spain, which, with the conquest of Granada (1492),
became a unified kingdom; and after the discovery of America,
immensely increased its possessions and wealth.13
As is known, the function of the American colonies at that time was
to provide wealth for the crown. The Board of Trade (Casa de
Contratación), founded in 1503, supervised the imperial economy,
which operated through a Castilian monopoly. All trade was funneled
through the port of Cadiz, where it could be closely supervised. The
colonies provided mineral and agricultural products, extracted using
the labour of Indians and black slaves. So, the crown perpetuated
European feudalism by making grants that included both land and the
Indians who lived on it.14

10
 Getino (note 9), at 151.
11
Wolfrum (note 6), at 369.
12
 Nys (note 9), at 82.
13
A. Nussbaum, A Concise History of the Law of Nations, 62 (1954).
14
C. A. Endress, History of Europe (1500–1848), 87 (1975).
 the solidarity principle135

When the Spanish reached mainland America, “they encountered”,

among others, “three different civilizations: those of the Aztecs, the
Mayas, and the Incas. They were greatly impressed not only by the gold
to be looted, but also by the sophisticated, metropolitan character of
these peoples of Mexico and Peru”. Notwithstanding the initial reac-
tion, they did not hesitate progressively to conquer “these large, far-
flung, culturally advanced, and warlike civilizations”.15 The reduction of
some members of these three and others Latin American civilizations
to a servile condition was then a consequence of the European arrival
in the new continent, in spite of some economic and cultural progress
then occurred.
Slavery was unfortunately then a common practice in Africa, so that
“from 1528 to 1685, the King of Spain granted asientos allowing indi-
viduals to introduce African slaves to Spanish America”.16
Since the beginning, opposition to this inhuman regime had been
expressed, among others, by Spanish missionaries set to the colonies.
One of them, Bartolomé de las Casas (1474–1566), for instance, began
in 1514 to work for the abolition of Indian slavery and the force labour
of the Encomienda. He devoted the rest of his life to that cause, going to
Spain to urge the government to action, converting uncivilized tribes,
and striving to break the power of Spanish landholders over Indian
labourers. A sense of solidarity linked, in the same period, Las Casas
and Vitoria.

C. Victoria’s Writings on International Law

Among Victoria’s posthumous publication, a distinction is made

between the Lecturas, that is the Santo Thomas’ Suma Teologica
explanation, which lasted for seven or eight years, and the Relecciones,
lectures given at special ceremonies at the University, dealing specifi-
cally with matters then considered of particular opportuneness and
relevance. Thirteen Relectiones were saved by Vitoria’s colleagues and
students. Among them are three of particular interest to international
jurists, those entitled De Potestate Civili (On the Civil Power); De Indis

15
L. Hanke, Aztec and Inca Civilizations, The Columbia History of the World, 646
and 651 (1987).
16
A. M. Trebilcock, Slavery in: Bernhardt (note 5), at 422.
136 vicente marotta rangel

recenter inventis relectio prior (First lesson on the Indians recently dis-
covered); and De Indis, sive de jure belli Hispanorum in barbarous, relec-
tio posterior (Posterior lesson on the Indians, or on the law of war of
Spaniards against the barbarians). Vitoria recognized–as a general
principle–the Indians as the legal and legitimate owners of public and
private lands established in their regions. So, it was up to the Spaniards
the duty to demonstrate the legality of their purposes and actions in
America.17
Because of its prominence in the framework of all relectiones and
particulary in relation to those just mentioned, let us refer to the relec-
tio De Potestate Civili, delivered at the Christmas 1528, the first in
chronological order given by Vitoria.
He tried then to understand and explain the changes which had
occurred in the political structure of his time, when feudal law van-
ished from the international sphere and the position of the city-states
and other small communities became for the most part untenable. The
relectio contains premises which he developed further. One premise,
for instance, is that a State is a natural society; another underlines the
distinction between State and mankind as well as focusing on the
higher level of the law of nations in relation to State law level. The relec-
tio also asserts that the human nature explains the origin of society as
well as State power and purposes.
In relation to these two different laws (State law and jus gentium),
Vitoria argued against the alleged European titles in relation to those of
the aborigines in the New Word. Contrary to this allegation and its
consequent practice, strong opposition was then formed by the mis-
sionaries sent to the American continent, opposition supported by
Vitoria, who then repudiated theories based on the alleged superiority
of the Christians, on their right to punished idolatry, or on the mission
which might have been given to Europeans to propagate the true reli-
gion. In reality, the notion of mankind (totus orbis) served for Vitoria
as a starting-point, the premise for the development of a global doc-
trine, as explained in his subsequent statements.18

17
C. B. Trelles, Francisco de Victoria et l’école moderne du droit international, 17
Recueil des Cours, Académie de Droit International, 109, at 129 (1927-II).
18
A. Truyol y Serra, Genèse et Fondements Spirituel de l’idée d’une Communauté
Universelle, 117 (1958). Id., El derecho de gentes como orden universal, in: La Escuela
Internacional en America Del Pasado al Futuro, 17 (1998).
 the solidarity principle137

D. Vitoria and the Rights of Indigenous Peoples

Let us turn our attention to the second statement (relectio) mentioned

above: De Indis recenter inventis relectio prior. It refers to a relectio prior,
in order to distinguish itself from a posterior statement on the Indians
(De Indis, relectio posterior). Vitoria delivered them in the prime of his
life, probably during the courses related to the periods 1537–38 and
1538–39, respectively.
The relectio prior contains three sections. The first one discusses
issues of legal and religious character, in order to arrive at firm conclu-
sions such as: that mortal sin does not preclude civil ownership; a her-
etic may lawfully live off his own property and is able to make a
gratuitous conversion of his property, as by way of gift; the Indian abo-
rigenes were true owners in both public and in private law before and
after the Spaniards’ arrival among them.
In the second section, Vitoria focused on the alleged illegitimate
titles for the reduction of the aborigenes of the New World under
the power of the Spanish people or governor. His conclusions are at the
end, among others, as follows: the Emperor was not the lord of the
whole world; he would not be entitled either to seize the provinces of
the Indian aborigenes or to erect new lands or levy taxes; the Pope
was not the civil or temporal lord of the whole world so he had no
power over Indian aborigenes or over other unbelievers; the refusal by
these aborigenes to recognize any domination of the Pope or the
Emperor was no reason for making war against them and for seizing
their goods; and if the faith was simply announced and proposed to
them and they did not immediately embrace it, this was not a ground
for the Emperor to make war on them or to proceed against them
under the laws of war.
Lastly, the third section on De Indis deals with the lawful titles
whereby the Spaniards could get in contact with native people located
in the new continent, on the basis of natural society and fellowship.
On this basis, the Spaniards had, for instance, the right to travel to the
lands of the Indians and to sojourn there so long as they did no harm
them. The Spaniards might also carry on trade among the aborigenes,
so long as they did not injure their country. Therefore, the princes of
the Indians could not prevent their subjects from trading with the
Spaniards. Christians have also the right to preach and publish the
Gospel in the lands of barbarians.
138 vicente marotta rangel

While the relectio prior is mainly concerned with the occupation of

the American continent, its legitimacy or not, there were also–accord-
ing to Vitoria–some questions to be elucidated, as for instance those
relating to the legitimacy of the war itself. He maintained that not every
kind and degree of wrong could suffice as a pretext for commencing
the war. It was necessary to analyse the causes of war. This is the reason
Vitoria intended to study and lecture his students at University in the
relectio posterior on the Indians, or, in other words, on the law of war.
For this purpose, he raises four issues to be considered, those relating
to: a). the legality of the war; b). the qualified or legitimate authority to
declare the war; c). the legitimacy of causes of war; d). general ques-
tions dealing with the jus in bello.
In the global context of all these issues, the analysis of the causes of
the war prevailed. Among the possible real or false, just or unjust causes
of war, the following were listed: extension of an Empire; the Prince’s
personal glory or other advantage; diversity of religion. In any case, as
Vitoria indicated, the justice of war should be thoroughly and carefully
examined, as well as the rules of warfare.19

E. Vitoria’s Lasting Achievements and Contemporary

Developments

Taking into account his contribution to the law of nations doctrine

within the perspective of his life period, Vitoria then clearly demon-
strated, as currently asseverated, “a remarkably progressive attitude
for his time towards the Spanish conquest of the South American
Indians and, contrary to the views prevailing until then, maintained
that the Indian peoples should be regarded as nations within their own
legitimate interests.”20 The question to be raised is the concrete conse-
quence of the Vitorian and similar doctrine.
Unfortunately, the Vitorian doctrine did not entirely prevail, either
on the American continent or abroad. As is known, the question of the
protection of indigenous peoples did not become restricted to the
American continent and has assumed a global scale since these peo-
ples, in several regions of the world, have been in contact with foreign

19
 Nys (note 9), at 115–116, 150–151, 491–492.
20
M. N. Shaw, International Law, 20, at 22 (5 th ed. 2008). Also Hanke (note 15),
at 658.
 the solidarity principle139

peoples and States. However, this fundamental question, from the

beginning, when it was first raised, has not received adequate treat-
ment. It is meaningful, in this regard, to see that neither the Charter of
the United Nations nor the Universal Declaration of Human Rights of
1948 contains rules on the protection of indigenous peoples in interna-
tional law. Since the Declaration, however, a progressive and successful
effort has been made, as analised by Rüdiger Wolfrum in his study
on “the protection of indigenous peoples in international law”.21
Fortunately, this effort and its eventual positive result have continued
in the course of the last decade.
Special mention should be made, in this regard, of a progressive
reinforcement of indigenous rights: ILO Convention n°107; the estab-
lishment of the UN Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues (which
first met in 2.002); the conclusion of the ILO Convention n°169 (1989);
and the Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) by
the General Assembly on 13 October 2007 (143 in favour, 4 against
with 7 abstentions).22 The preamble to UNDRIP refers indeed to the
urgent need to affirm these rights in treaties, agreements and other
arrangements concluded with States or their successors. One of the
main innovations of the Declaration “is the recognition of the legal
personality of indigenous people, and the respective entitlement of col-
lective and individual rights, as well as the right to self-determination”.23
This personality and these rights are now fortunately recognized in dif-
ferent countries and regions of the world, but require, of course, addi-
tional improvement.

21
See supra note 6.
22
See G. Marks, Rights of Indigenous People, First Report, International Law
Association, Rio de Janeiro Conference, 2008, at 954.
23
F. Oliveria Godinho, The United Nations Declaration on the Rights of indigenous
Peoples and Protection of Indigenous Rights in Brazil, in: A. von Bogdandy /
R. Wolfrum (eds.), Max Planck Yearbook of United Nations Law, Vol. 12, 247 (2008).
 Solidarität, Souveränität und
Völkerrecht: Grundzüge einer internationalen
Solidargemeinschaft zur Hilfe bei
Naturkatastrophen

Nele Matz-Lück

A. Naturkatastrophen und Solidarität

Schilderungen von Naturkatastrophen – allem voran von Fluten,

kan­
Vul­ ausbrüchen, Stürmen und Erdbeben – und Versuche ihrer
Erklä­rung gehören seit der Antike zu den Zeugnissen der Menschheit.1
Einzelne Ereignisse werden in literarischen Berichten beschrieben2
oder als Ausgangspunkt für fiktive Erzählungen verwendet.3 Auch das
Medium des Films nutzt die Faszinationskraft von Katastrophen.4
Nicht zuletzt sind Naturkatastrophen und ihre Auswirkungen regel­
mäßiger Gegenstand der Berichterstattung der Medien.
Wird ein Staat von einer Naturkatastrophe betroffen, bieten nicht
betroffene Drittstaaten regelmäßig entweder direkt oder über natio­
nale und internationale Regierungs- und Nichtregierungsinstitutio­
nen humanitäre Hilfe an, die von der Bereitstellung von technischem
Rettungs- und Bergungsgerät, Transportmitteln, infrastrukturellen

1
Aus der Antike ist von Seneca, De terrae motu erhalten. Für eine Übersicht antiker
Erdbebentheorien vgl. G. H. Waldherr, Erdbeben – Das außergewöhnliche Normale,
Zur Rezeption seismischer Aktivitäten in literarischen Quellen vom 4. Jahrhundert v.
Chr. bis zum 4. Jahrhundert n. Chr (1997). Allgemeiner H. Sonnabend, Naturka­
tastrophen in der Antike (1999). Vgl. aus der Fülle der Literatur auch zu anderen
Epochen nur K. P. Jankrift, Brände, Stürme, Hungersnöte: Katastrophen in der mittel­
alterlichen Lebenswelt (2003).
2
Vgl. von den zahlreichen Beschreibungen des Erdbebens von Lissabon 1755 die
Darstellung bei I. Kant, Geschichte und Naturbeschreibung der merkwürdigsten
Vorfälle des Erdbebens, welches an dem Ende des 1755sten Jahres einen großen Theil
der Erde erschüttert hat, in: I. Kant, Gesammelte Schriften (Akademie-Ausgabe),
Abt.1, Bd.1, 434 (1910) und J. W. Goethe, Aus meinem Leben – Dichtung und Wahrheit
(Hamburger Ausgabe), Bd. IX, 30 (14. Aufl. 2002).
3
Auch der Erzählung von H. von Kleist, Das Erdbeben in Chili (1807) liegt das
Erdbeben von 1755 zu Grunde.
4
Vgl. nur Filme wie „Die letzten Tage von Pompeji“ (1959); „Erdbeben“ (1974);
„Der Sturm“ (2000). Ein durch Klimawandel ausgelöstes Naturkatastrophenszenario
entwickelt „The Day After Tomorrow“ (2004).
142 nele matz-lück

Anlagen, z.B. zur Trinkwasseraufbereitung, der Lieferung von

Lebensmitteln, dem Aufbau von Einrichtungen zur medizinischen
Versorgung bis zu teilweise erheblichen finanziellen Hilfs- und
Wiederaufbaumitteln reicht.5 So genannte Geberkonferenzen spielen
eine wesentliche Rolle bei der Bereitstellung der Mittel zur unmittelba­
ren humanitären Hilfe und für den längerfristigen Wiederaufbau.
Trotz der internationalen Dimension der Katastrophenhilfe stellt
sich die Sorge für die Sicherheit der Menschen in Gestalt von
Schutzmaßnahmen, Evakuation, medizinischer und infrastruktureller
Versorgung im Katastrophenfall und für den Wiederaufbau von
Gebieten aus rechtlicher Perspektive in erster Linie als eine Frage der
innerstaatlichen Verantwortlichkeit6 und des nationalen Rechts7 dar.
Wenn man aber die Solidarität unter Staaten betrachtet, wie dies
Rüdiger Wolfrum in eigenen Schriften8 und durch die Ausrichtung
eines Symposiums am Max-Planck-Institut für ausländisches öffentli­
ches Recht und Völkerrecht im Jahre 2008 zum Thema „Solidarity: a
Structural Principle of International Law“9 getan hat, liegt eine
Befassung mit dem zwischenstaatlichen10 Umgang mit Ursachen und
Folgen von Naturkatastrophen aus völkerrechtlicher Perspektive nahe.

5
Vgl. die Zusicherung der EU und ihrer Mitgliedstaaten von 1,2 Mrd. Euro
für Hilfe und Wiederaufbau nach dem Erdbeben in Haiti 2010 bei der internati­
onalen Geberkonferenz „Towards a New Future for Haiti“ in New York, Pressemit­
teilung IP/10/393 vom 30. März 2010, verfügbar unter http://europa.eu/rapid/
pressReleasesAction.do?reference=IP/10/393&format=HTML&aged=0&language=en
&guiLanguage=en.
6
Assistance in Cases on Natural Disaster, Report of the Secretary General, 13. Mai
1971, UN Doc. E/4994, Abs. 100. Hilfe durch die internationale Gemeinschaft dient
danach nur der Ergänzung („can only supplement“), id.
7
Nach dem Preliminary report on the protection of persons in the event of
disasters, UN Doc. A/CN.4/598, Abs. 36 (2008, im Folgenden: Preliminary Report),
hat fast jeder Staat der Welt nationale Gesetzgebung, die sich mit Katastrophen befasst.
Eine kritische Betrachtung dieses Gebiets im deutschen Recht findet sich bei H-H.
Trute, Katastrophenschutzrecht – Besichtigung eines verdrängten Rechtsgebiets,
Kritische Vierteljahresschrift für Gesetzgebung und Rechtswissenschaft (KritV) 342
(2005).
8
Siehe R. Wolfrum, Solidarity Amongst States: An Emerging Structural Principle
of International Law, in: P.-M. Dupuy et al (Hrsg.), Völkerrecht als Weltordnung –
Festschrift für Christian Tomuschat, 1087 (2006); ders., Solidarity Amongst States: An
Emerging Structural Principle of International Law, 49 Indian Journal of International
Law 8 (2009).
9
R. Wolfrum / C. Kojima (Hrsg.), Solidarity: a Structural Principle of International
Law (2010).
10
 Obwohl auch in der Katastrophenhilfe tätige internationale Organisationen
Ausdruck der solidarischen Zusammenarbeit sind, sind sie nicht Gegenstand der fol­
genden Betrachtungen. Zur frühen Phase der Befassung der VN mit Naturkatastrophen
 solidarität, souveränität und völkerrecht143

Im Vergleich zu anderen Rechtsgebieten, deren Zusammenhang

mit einem über bloße Zusammenarbeit hinausgehenden Prinzip
der Solidarität sich erst auf den zweiten Blick erschließt,11 ist die
Verknüpfung völkerrechtlicher Regelungen zur Hilfe im Katastro­
phenfall mit zwischenstaatlicher Solidarität offensichtlich. Dennoch
wird das Verhältnis von Solidarität und rechtlichen Pflichten in diesem
Bereich nur selten erörtert.12 Ein Grund dafür mag in der Unschärfe
des Begriffs der Solidarität als Rechtsprinzip liegen. Ein Ansatz, der
unter ausdrücklicher Bezugnahme auf die Solidarität13 versucht, der
völkerrechtlichen Dimension der Hilfe bei Naturkatastrophen zum
Schutz der Bevölkerung gerecht zu werden, ist in den jüngsten Arbeiten
der Völkerrechtskommission der Vereinten Nationen (International
Law Commission, ILC) zum Thema „Protection of Persons in the
Event of Disasters“ zu sehen.14 2009 und 2010 stellte die ILC erste vom
Drafting Committee vorläufig angenommene Entwürfe für Draft
Articles vor,15 die auch auf Pflichten zur Zusammenarbeit von
Drittstaaten und auf Pflichten des betroffenen Staats eingehen und
deren Relevanz für die in diesem Beitrag aufgeworfenen Fragen in der
folgenden Untersuchung bewertet wird.

vgl. G. Catalano Sgrosso, Prevention and Management of Natural Disasters, in:

G. Lafferranderie / D. Crowther (Hrsg.), Outlook on Space Law over the next 30 Years,
319, 326–328, (1997). Zur Rolle der VN s. B. Fassbender, „Wo aber Gefahr ist, wächst
das Rettende auch“? – Die Internationalisierung von Risiken und die Entwicklung des
völkerrechtlichen Katastropheschutzrechts, KritV 375, 389–390 (2005); zu VN und
EU vgl. E. Kussbach, Der Beitrag der Europäischen Union zur internationalen
Katastrophenhilfe, in: H. F. Köck et al. (Hrsg.), Europarecht im Zeitalter der
Globalisierung – Festschrift für Peter Fischer, 251 (2004).
11
Das gilt z.B. für das Welthandelsrecht, dessen Solidaritätselemente Wolfrum
(Fn. 8), 1096–1098 darlegt. Sieht man in zwischenstaatlicher Solidarität primär einen
Ansatz zum Ausgleich sozialer und wirtschaftlicher Nachteile, erschließen sich weitere
Teilgebiete. Vgl. zu einem „sozialen Völkerrecht“ im Ansatz U. Scheuner, Solidarität
unter den Nationen als Grundsatz in der gegenwärtigen internationalen Gemeinschaft,
in: J. Delbrück et al. (Hrsg.), Recht im Dienst des Friedens – Festschrift für Eberhard
Menzel, 251, 272–277 (1975); vertieft M. Kotzur, Soziales Völkerrecht für eine solida­
rische Völkergemeinschaft?, Juristenzeitung 265 (2008).
12
Vgl. aber K. Wellens, Revisiting Solidarity as a (Re-)Emerging Constitutional
Principle: Some Further Reflections, in: Wolfrum (Fn. 9), 3, 14–19.
13
Second report on the protection of persons in the event of disasters, 7. Mai 2009,
UN Doc. A/CN.4/615, s. vor allem die Abs. 50–58 (im Folgenden: Second Report).
14
Preliminary Report (Fn. 7); Second Report, id.
15
Der Entwurf der Artikel 1–5, findet sich in UN Doc. A/CN.4/L.758 vom 24. Juli
2009; der Entwurf der Artikel 6–9 in UN Doc. A/CN.4/L776 vom 14. Juli 2010. Alle
weiteren Angaben von Draft Articles beziehen sich auf die in diesen Dokumenten nie­
dergelegten Entwürfe.
144 nele matz-lück

Dieser Beitrag erörtert verschiedene Elemente und Ausprägungen

eines völkerrechtlichen Prinzips der Solidarität im Bereich der
Hilfsleistungen bei Naturkatastrophen. Im Vordergrund steht dabei die
Verknüpfung der Solidarität mit der Bevölkerung mit menschenrecht­
lichen Erwägungen. In diesem Zusammenhang stellt sich nicht nur
die Frage, ob und in welchen Fällen Drittstaaten zur Hilfeleistung
verpflichtet sind, sondern auch ob sich dem Völkerrecht eine
Einschränkung nationaler Souveränität entnehmen lässt, die dazu
führt, dass von Naturkatastrophen betroffene Staaten die Pflicht haben,
Hilfsleistungen anzunehmen. Damit wird ein Versuch unternom­­­men
aus der Thematik der Hilfe bei Naturkatastrophen heraus zur Be­­
antwortung einiger der Fragen beizutragen, die Rüdiger Wolfrum in
seinen zusammenfassenden Bemerkungen am Ende des Symposium
„Solidarity: A Structural Principle of International Law“ gestellt
hat. Das gilt namentlich für die folgenden Fragen: Wem gegenüber
wird Solidarität der Staaten geschuldet: einem anderen Staat, der
Staatengemeinschaft oder der Bevölkerung?16 Wird die Rolle des
Staates negativ verändert, wenn eine Pflicht zur Hilfsleistung an die
Bevölkerung auch gegen den Willen des betroffenen Staates etabliert
wird?17
Man sollte zwar annehmen, dass es ebenso üblich ist, Hilfe zu
leisten wie Hilfe anzunehmen. Tatsächlich gibt es aber politische
Regime, die Hilfe bei Naturkatastrophen durch Drittstaaten ablehnen,
weil sie Hilfeleistungen als unzulässige Einmischung in ihre inne­
ren Angelegenheiten begreifen.18 Ein Beispiel in diesem Zusam­
menhang ist Nordkorea, das aus politischen Gründen die schlechte
Ernährungssituation seiner Bevölkerung zu verschleiern versucht und
Hilfe strikt ablehnt.19 Bezogen auf Naturkatastrophen ist aber auch die
Regierung von Myanmar zu nennen, die das Land zunächst gegen jeg­
liche Berichterstattung über mögliche Folgen und Opfer der Flutwelle
in Süd- und Süd-Ost-Asien im Dezember 2004 und damit auch gegen
Hilfsleistungen abgeschottet hatte. Auch im Fall der Zerstörung weiter
Teile dieses Landes durch den Zyklon Nargis im Mai 2008 verzögerte
und erschwerte die Regierung die Hilfsleistung von außen durch die

16
R. Wolfrum, Concluding Remarks, in: Wolfrum / Kojima (Fn. 9), 225, 227.
17
Id., 227–228.
18
Beispiele bei R. Hardcastle / A. Chua, Victims of Natural Disasters: The Right to
Receive Humanitarian Assistance, 1 International Journal of Human Rights 35, 41–42
(1997).
19
Vgl. die Schilderung mit Datenmaterial aus dem Jahr 1997, id., 35 und 41–42.
 solidarität, souveränität und völkerrecht145

Verweigerung der Visaerteilung an Mitarbeiter von Hilfsorganisationen,

die Forderung, Hilfe nur durch staatliche Stellen verteilen zu lassen,
und die Einschränkung des Zugangs zu den am stärksten betroffenen
Regionen.20 Aus politischen Gründen lehnten auch die USA Hilfe
durch einige bestimmte Staaten im Zusammenhang mit dem Hurrikan
Katrina im Jahr 2005 ab.21

B. Solidarität und Völkerrecht

Vor dem Hintergrund der humanitären Erwägung, den Opfern einer

Naturkatastrophe zu helfen, ist Hilfeleistung eine Selbstverständlich­
keit.22 Selbst wenn man den „Grundsatz der Humanität“ als einen dem
Völkerrecht „immanente[n] moralische[n] Grundsatz“23 anerkennt,
folgen daraus aber noch keine unmittelbaren völkerrechtlichen
Pflichten. Allein vom Sein der Hilfe und von einer unbestreitbaren
moralischen Pflicht zur Solidarität im Hinblick auf humanitäres
Handeln bei Naturkatastrophen kann auf das völkerrechtliche Sollen
noch nicht geschlossen werden. Ein völkerrechtliches Prinzip der
Solidarität geht über die anerkannte moralische Solidaritätspflicht
hinaus und steht gleichsam zwischen dieser und konkreten
Handlungspflichten.
Die historische Entwicklung eines Gedankens zwischenstaatlicher
Solidarität und seine Verankerung in verschiedenen Teilgebieten des
Völkerrechts hat Rüdiger Wolfrum bereits erörtert.24 Insbesondere die

20
Vgl. die Übersicht über die Fakten bei R. Barber, The Responsibility to Protect the
Survivors of Natural Disaster: Cyclone Nargis, a Case Study, 14 Journal of Conflict and
Security Law 3, 3–5 (2009); s. auch A.-P. Gouin, Observations sur la responsabilité de
protéger en Birmanie, 112 Revue Général de Droit International Public 632 (2008).
21
C. Focarelli, Duty to Protect in Cases of Natural Disaster, in: R. Wolfrum,
Encyclopedia of Public International Law, Online-Edition, abzurufen unter
www.mpepil.de. Näher zu den Hintergründen mwN T. R. Saechao, Natural Disasters
and the Responsibility to Protect: From Chaos to Clarity, 32 Brook Journal of
International Law 663, 693–694 (2006–2007).
22
In einer oft zitierten Passage eines Texts aus dem Jahre 1758 wies Vattel bereits auf
diesen Grundsatz der Humanität hin: „To give assistance in such dire straits is so ins­
tinctive an act of humanity that hardly any civilized Nation is to be found which would
refuse absolutely to do so.“ E. de Vattel, The Law of Nations or the Principles of Natural
Law Applied to the Conduct and to the Affairs of Nations and Sovereigns, Bd. III, 114
(1916).
23
A. Verdross / B. Simma, Universelles Völkerrecht, §63 (3. Aufl. 1984).
24
Wolfrum (Fn. 8), 1088–1090. Vgl. auch die Darstellung der historischen
Entwicklung bei Scheuner (Fn. 11), 256–270.
146 nele matz-lück

Veränderung der internationalen Beziehungen, die zur Entwicklung

des Völkerrechts von einem Koexistenz- erst zu einem Kooperationsrecht
und dann zu einem wertebasierten Völkerrechtsystem geführt hat,
bewirkt, dass zunehmend Völkerrechtsregeln existieren, die sich als
konkrete Ausprägungen zwischenstaatlicher Solidarität verstehen las­
sen.25 Solidarität fungiert dabei aber nicht selbst als eine völkerrechtli­
che Pflicht, sondern vielmehr als ein auf der Notwendigkeit der
Zusammenarbeit zur Erreichung gemeinsamer Ziele beruhendes
Strukturprinzip, das sich in konkreten Rechten und Pflichten nieder­
schlagen kann.26
Trotz dieser begrifflichen Annährung bleiben eine Definition des
Prinzips und seine Qualifikation als Rechtsprinzip unscharf.27 Das liegt
vor allem daran, dass einerseits das Prinzip rechtlich dann keine eigen­
ständige Bedeutung (mehr) hat, wenn erst einmal konkrete völker­
rechtliche Rechte und Pflichten bestehen, aber andererseits aus dem
Prinzip selbst auch nicht die Geltung bestimmter Rechte und Pflichten
abgeleitet werden kann. Aus der Leitfunktion der Solidarität lassen
sich aber völkerrechtliche Desiderate ableiten und bestimmte Rechte
und Pflichten lassen sich deduktiv auf die Solidarität als zu Grunde
liegenden Leitgedanken zurückführen. Damit lässt sich die Solidarität
als Strukturprinzip für völkerrechtliche Entwicklungen heranziehen
und als ein „Mehr“ als eine rein moralische Erwägung begreifen.
Unabhängig von einer Legaldefinition zwischenstaatlicher
Solidarität lassen sich verschiedene Erscheinungsformen derselben
unterscheiden.28 Zunächst ist die solidarische Kooperation der
Staatengemeinschaft zu nennen, die danach strebt, ein gemeinsa­
mes Ziel zu erreichen, das durch Aktivitäten nur einzelner Staaten
nicht gefördert werden kann. Beispiele dafür sind die weltweite
Friedenssicherung, aber auch umweltvölkerrechtliche Ansätze zum
Schutz globaler Umweltgüter wie Luft, Ozonschicht oder Klima. Eine
weitere Ausprägung von Solidarität betrifft den Ausgleich von
Nachteilen bestimmter Staaten oder Staatengruppen im Vergleich zu

25
Grundlegend zur völkerrechtlichen Solidarität auch K. Wellens, Solidarity
as a Constitutional Principle: Its Expanding Role and Inherent Limitations, in:
R. St. Macdonald / D. M. Johnston (Hrsg.), Towards World Constitutionalism: Issues
in the Legal Ordering of the World Community, 775 (2005).
26
Wolfrum (Fn. 16), 228.
27
Vgl. auch L. Boisson de Chazournes, Responsibility to Protect: Reflecting
Solidarity?, in: Wolfrum / Kojima (Fn. 9), 93, 93–97.
28
Im Sinne der folgenden Unterscheidung Wolfrum (Fn. 16), 228.
 solidarität, souveränität und völkerrecht147

anderen. Der Grundsatz gemeinsamer aber unterschiedlicher Verant­

wortlichkeit, der sich im Umweltvölkerrecht z.B. im Finanz- und
Technologietransfer an Entwicklungsländer ausdrückt, gehört in diese
Kategorie. Die letzte Kategorie betrifft die solidarische Hilfeleistung zu
Gunsten eines einzelnen oder einiger weniger von einem Ereignis
besonders betroffenen Staaten. Humanitäre Hilfe bei Naturkatastrophen
fällt in diese Gruppe.
Betrachtet man Hilfsleistungen zu Gunsten einzelner Staaten, lassen
sich verschiedene Schutzgüter unterscheiden. Zunächst kann auch in
Fällen, in denen ein einzelner Staat vom gemeinschaftlichen Handeln
anderer Staaten profitiert, ein übergeordnetes gemeinschaftliches
Ziel verfolgt werden, das z.B. in der regionalen oder überregionalen
Friedenssicherung oder in der Vermeidung von grenzüberschreiten­
den Umweltauswirkungen liegen kann. Dann wäre der Adressat des
solidarischen Zusammenwirkens die internationale Gemeinschaft,
deren Interessen mit der Hilfeleistung verfolgt werden, auch wenn die
tatsächlichen Leistungen gegenüber einem einzelnen Staat erbracht
werden.
Ein weiteres Schutzgut, zu dessen Erhalt solidarisches Handeln der
Staatengemeinschaft wirkt, ist der betroffene Staat selbst. Indem er
durch solidarische Kooperation Hilfsleistungen von außen erfährt,
wird er dabei unterstützt, seine Funktion aufrecht zu erhalten, d.h. z.B.
trotz eines einschneidenden Ereignisses im Bereich der Daseinsvorsorge
tätig zu sein und menschenrechtliche Verpflichtungen zu erfüllen. Die
Stabilität und Bestandssicherung von Staaten können zwar sowohl
Faktoren der Friedenssicherung als auch des Schutzes der Bevölkerung
sein, es liegt aber ein solidaritätsbasierter Eigenwert darin, wenn
Mitglieder einer Staatengemeinschaft grundsätzlich auf der Basis ihrer
Gleichheit und Gleichwertigkeit in Krisenfällen einen Staat dabei
unterstützen, seine Funktion aufrechtzuerhalten.
Eine dritte Erwägung verknüpft die zwischenstaatliche Solidarität
mit dem betroffenen Individuum. Die konkrete Hilfe für menschliche
Opfer lässt sich zurückführen auf eine Solidarität unter Individuen als
Inbegriff der Humanität. Diese kann auf institutioneller Ebene aber
auch durch Drittstaaten zum Ausdruck gebracht werden. Solidarisches
Handeln zur Hilfe und zum Schutz von Individuen in Notsituationen,
unabhängig von der Staatsangehörigkeit, scheint wegen des Bezugs
zum Einzelnen die konkreteste Ebene zu sein, auf der sich Solidarität
niederschlägt. Gleichzeitig ist gerade die Sorge um die Würde und das
Leben des Einzelnen Ausdruck eines wertebasierten Völkerrechts, wie
148 nele matz-lück

es sich in den Menschenrechten widerspiegelt und berührt damit eines

der grundlegenden Elemente der modernen Völkerrechtsordnung.
Besondere Relevanz erlangt die Solidarität der Staatengemeinschaft
mit dem Individuum, wenn dessen Schutz durch den Heimatstaat
nicht mehr gewährleistet werden kann. Im Gegensatz zu einer hori­
zontalen Dimension der zwischenstaatlichen Solidarität, lässt sich das
Verhältnis von Staaten zur (notleidenden) Bevölkerung eines anderen
Staates als „vertikal“ beschreiben.29 Es ist diese Ebene, die wegen des
Bezugs zu den Menschenrechten der Opfer Grundlage für Pflichten zu
effektiven humanitären Hilfe ist.
Im Falle der Hilfe bei Naturkatastrophen zeigt sich, dass die ver­
schiedenen Anknüpfungspunkte der Solidarität nebeneinander beste­
hen können. Neben individualbezogenen humanitären Erwägungen,
das einzelne Menschenleben in einer konkreten Katastrophensituation
zu schützen, spielen bei den Hilfsleistungen und der Wiederaufbauhilfe
auch weiterreichende Erwägungen zur Stabilisierung des betroffenen
Staats und der Friedenssicherung eine Rolle. Das Zusammenwachsen
der Welt durch Kommunikations- und Transportmittel bewirkt, dass
einschneidende Ereignisse in ihrer Wirkung nicht mehr isoliert
betrachtet werden können. Migrationsströme in die umliegenden
Regionen und Staaten haben nicht nur Auswirkungen auf die betroffe­
nen Personen selbst, sondern können auch zu grenzüberschreitenden
Spannungen und zu humanitären Folgekatastrophen in der Region, in
Nachbarstaaten und möglicherweise weltweit führen.
In diesem Zusammenhang lässt sich auch ein gedanklicher
Paradigmenwechsel nachvollziehen, der dem Bericht des High-Level
Panel on Threats, Challenges and Change des VN-Generalsekretärs
aus dem Jahr 200430 zu Grunde liegt. Dem Bericht lässt sich ein
Wandel des Sicherheitsbegriffs von einem auf Staaten bezogenen
Begriff zu einem auf menschliche Sicherheit (human security) gerichte­
ten Begriff entnehmen.31 Daraus ergeben sich nach der Argumentation
von Anne-Marie Slaughter Auswirkungen auf die Definition von
Solidarität mit Individuen und die Möglichkeit der Einschränkung der
staatlichen Souveränität durch Begründung einer weitreichenden

29
Boisson de Chazournes (Fn. 27), 102.
30
Report of the UN Secretary-General’s High-Level Panel on Threats, Challenges,
and Change, A more secure world–Our shared responsibility, UN Doc. A/59/565
(2004).
31
A.-M. Slaughter, Security, Solidarity, and Sovereignty: The Grand Themes of UN
Reform, 99 American Journal of International Law 619, 623 (2005).
 solidarität, souveränität und völkerrecht149

Schutzverantwortung (responsibility to protect). Slaughter betont die

Verantwortlichkeit insbesondere der entwickelten Staaten, Gefahren
abzuwenden, die die Sicherheit von Menschen beeinträchtigen, als
auch die Verantwortlichkeit der Staatengemeinschaft selbst für die
Sicherheit der eigenen Bevölkerung zu sorgen und gegebenenfalls
Hilfe zuzulassen.32 Wird Hilfe abgelehnt, obwohl die Sicherheit der
Bevölkerung in Gefahr ist, ist in einem nächsten Schritt die Möglichkeit
der humanitären Intervention auf Grundlage einer Schutzverantwor­
tung zu erörtern. Es ist eben diese Verknüpfung von Schutzpflichten zu
Gunsten des Einzelnen mit kollektiven Rechten und Pflichten zum
Schutz der Menschenrechte, die auch für die Hilfe für Opfer von
Naturkatastrophen relevant ist.

C. Völkerrecht und Naturkatastrophen

I. Definitionen
Eine „Katastrophe“ lässt sich gemäß Draft Article 3 wie folgt
definieren:
„Disaster“ means a calamitous event or series of events resulting in
widespread loss of life, great human suffering or distress, or large-scale
material or environmental damage, thereby seriously disrupting the
functioning of society.
Eine weitere definitorische Unterscheidung bezieht den Ursprung der
Katastrophe ein. Wegen der Auswirkung menschlichen Handelns z.B.
auf das Klima kann nicht immer trennscharf zwischen Katastrophen
allein natürlichen Ursprungs einerseits und solchen, für die anthropo­
gene Aktivitäten mitursächlich sind, andererseits unterschieden wer­
den. In der völkerrechtlichen Literatur bezeichnet der Begriff der
Naturkatastrophe zumeist Phänomene, für die menschliches Verhalten
nicht unmittelbar ursächlich ist, wie Erdbeben, Flutkatastrophen,
Vulkanausbrüche oder Wirbelstürme.33 Für menschlich bzw. technisch

32
Id., 625.
33
GV Res. 42/169 vom 11. Dezember 1987 nennt zunächst Erdbeben, Windstürme,
Tsunamis, Überflutungen, Erdrutsche, Vulkanausbrüche, Großflächenbrände und
andere Unglücke natürlichen Ursprungs wie z.B. Heuschreckenplagen, aber auch
Dürre und Wüstenbildung. Zu weiteren Kategorisierungen vgl. auch Preliminary
Report (Fn. 7), Abs. 44–49. Focarelli (Fn. 21), Rn. 5, nennt auch Epidemien übertrag­
barer Krankheiten als Naturkatastrophen.
150 nele matz-lück

mitverursachte Schadensereignisse z.B. Öltanker-, Atomkraftwerk-

oder andere Industrieunfälle wird dagegen der Begriff der
Umweltkatastrophe34 verwendet. Eine dritte Kategorie lässt sich in rein
menschlich verursachten Ereignissen mit katastrophalen Auswirkungen
sehen, namentlich in bewaffneten Konflikten.35 Obwohl die Definition
in Draft Article 3 offen genug ist, auch diese Kategorie einzuschließen,
nimmt Draft Article 4 Situationen vom Anwendungsbereich aus, in
denen Regeln des humanitären Völkerrechts anwendbar sind.
Für die Opfer erlangt eine Unterscheidung zwischen Natur- und
Umweltkatastrophen erst für die Frage der Haftung oder eines mögli­
chen Schadensersatzes Bedeutung. Für gemeinschaftliches Handeln
von Staaten zur Folgenbeseitigung auf Grundlage eines Solidaritäts­
prinzips hat die Unterscheidung dann ebenfalls keine Bedeutung,
wenn man nur die unmittelbaren Folgen betrachtet, ohne an Haf­
tungsfragen zu denken, und wenn man davon ausgeht, dass die inter­
nationale Gemeinschaft auch im Hinblick auf technischen Fortschritt
und seine Risiken eine Solidargemeinschaft im engeren Sinne ist.
Infolgedessen gilt, dass Art und Umfang der Hilfeleistung nur auf
Grundlage der Bedürfnisse der Opfer und nicht nach den Ursachen zu
beurteilen ist.36

II. Normen
1. Regelungsansätze
Trotz der zunehmenden Spezialisierung des Völkerrechts in verschie­
dene Teilgebiete, hat sich ein eigener Rechtszweig „Internationales
Katastrophen(schutz)recht“ nicht etabliert. Ein multilateraler Vertrag
zur Hilfe für Opfer von Naturkatastrophen ist bislang nicht geschlos­
sen worden. 1927 wurde zwar die Convention Establishing an
International Relief Union ins Leben gerufen, die ihrer Präambel
gemäß nicht nur zum Ziel hatte, gegenseitige Hilfe zu leisten, sondern

34
A. von Arnauld, Völkerrechtliche Informationspflichten bei Naturkatastrophen,
Archiv des Völkerrechts 279, 281 (2005).
35
B. Jakovljević, International Disaster Relief Law, 34 Israel Yearbook on Human
Rights 251 (2004) nimmt eine Klassifizierung in natürliche, technologische und
menschlich herbeigeführte Katastrophen vor.
36
A.-L. Brugère, Le droit international de l’assistance humanitaire en cas de catast­
rophes naturelles, in: Société Française pour le Droit International, La responsabilité de
protéger 169, 174 (2008).
 solidarität, souveränität und völkerrecht151

auch die Hilfsquellen methodisch zu koordinieren und das Völkerrecht

in diesem Bereich zu fördern.37 Die Union ist aber mit dem Völkerbund
untergegangen. Ein Entwurf für ein Abkommen aus dem Jahr 1984
wurde nie verabschiedet.
Das Bedürfnis nach einheitlicher völkerrechtlicher Regelung für die
Hilfe bei Naturkatastrophen zeigt sich wie oben bereits erwähnt an den
Arbeiten der ILC, die sich seit 2008 mit der Thematik befasst.38 Die
vom Sekretariat verfasste Zusammenstellung der geltenden Regelungen
zum Schutz von Personen in Katastrophenfällen ist umfassend, zeigt
aber, wie uneinheitlich die Regelungsansätze sind.39 Zu diesem Ergebnis
kam auch eine Untersuchung der International Federation of Red
Cross and Red Crescent Societies (IFRC), die im Rahmen eines im Jahr
2000 begonnenen Programms „International Disaster Response Law“40
die verschiedenen bestehenden Regelungen auf ihre Übereinstimmung
und Systematik überprüfte. Eine intensivere Auseinandersetzung der
völkerrechtlichen Literatur mit Naturkatastrophen findet sich erst in
jüngerer Zeit.41 Es scheint, dass insbesondere die Auseinandersetzung
des Schrifttums mit einer über die humanitäre Intervention hinausge­
henden völkerrechtlichen Schutzverantwortung auch dem zuvor nur
wenig beachteten Thema der Hilfeleistung an Personen, die Opfer von
Naturkatastrophen geworden sind, wieder zu Berücksichtigung ver­
holfen hat.42

37
Zur Union D. P. Fidler, Disaster Relief and Governance after the Indian Ocean
Tsunami: What Role for International Law?, 6 Melbourne Journal of International Law
458, 462–464 (2005).
38
Derzeit liegen zwei Berichte, der Preliminary Report (Fn. 7) und der Second
Report (Fn. 13), und die Draft Articles (Fn. 15) vor.
39
Protection of Persons in the Event of Disasters, Memorandum prepared by the
Secretariat, UN Doc. A/CN.4/590 (2007, im Folgenden: Memorandum).
40
IFRC, International Disaster Response Law (2003).
41
Vgl. z.B. Fidler (Fn. 37); Jakovlejević (Fn. 35), 258; von Arnauld (Fn. 34);
D. D. Caron / Ch. Leben (Hrsg.), Les aspects internationaux des catastrophes naturel­
les et industrielles (2001). Vgl. für den zuvor liegenden Zeitraum das umfassende,
aber nun schon etwas veraltete Werk von P. Macalister-Smith, International
Humanitarian Assistance (1985); aber auch Hardcastle / Chua (Fn. 18).
42
Wellens (Fn. 12), 14 weist mwN darauf hin, dass eine Ausweitung des Fokus
der völkerrechtlichen Schutzverantwortung dazu führt, dass auch die Hilfe in
Notsituationen von der Diskussion erfasst wird. Vgl. z.B. die Beiträge von Barber
(Fn. 20); L. Boisson de Chazournes (Fn. 36), 149; Saechao, (Fn. 21); allgemeiner zu
humanitärer Hilfe auch bei Naturkatastrophen M.-J. Domestici Met, Humanitarian
Action–A Scope for the Responsibility to Protect?, Part I, 1 Goettingen Journal of
International Law 397 (2009).
152 nele matz-lück

2. Preparedness
Im englischen Sprachgebrauch wird in Bezug auf die Situation vor
Katastrophen zwischen prevention und preparedness unterschieden.43
Während Prävention in erster Linie auf die Vermeidung des Ereignisses
zu beziehen ist, kennzeichnet die preparedness das „Bereitsein“, um mit
den Folgen eines Ereignisses umzugehen. Präventionspflichten z.B. in
Form technischer Standards kommen zwar im Hinblick auf Umwelt­
katastrophen in Betracht. Naturkatastrophen als solche lassen sich im
Gegensatz dazu nicht verhindern. Eine Vermeidung kann nur in der
Relativierung der Folgen für die Bevölkerung bestehen, z.B. wenn
bekannt ist, dass das geologische Risiko44 groß ist. Entsprechende
Maßnahmen sind daher treffender mit dem Begriff der preparedness zu
beschreiben.
Vor dem Hintergrund der Solidarität stellt sich die Frage nach Pflich­
ten zum Austausch von Wissen und Technologien, die Maßnahmen
der preparedness für Staaten betreffen, die ein hohes Risiko haben,
von Naturkatastrophen betroffen zu werden, die aber wegen ihres
Entwicklungsstandes nicht in der Lage sind, sich effektiv vor den
Folgen zu schützen. Völkerrechtlich bindende Informationspflichten
sind vor allem im Bereich des Umweltrechts und des Seerechts bekannt.
Sie ergeben sich aus Vertrag und Gewohnheitsrecht, wenn von
Schadensfällen im eigenen Hoheitsbereich die Gefahr erheblicher
grenzüberschreitender Schäden ausgeht. Im Seerecht gilt dies von der
gemeinsamen Verantwortung für die Meere ausgehend sogar, wenn
nur Kenntnis von einem Schadensfall besteht. Das gilt unabhängig
davon, ob dieser im Bereich der eigenen Hoheitsgewässer eingetreten
ist oder dort seinen Ursprung nimmt (Art. 198 SRÜ).45 Die Pflicht, vor
einem möglichen Schaden zu warnen, obwohl die Gefahr ihren
Ursprung nicht im eigenen Hoheitsbereich hat, ist ein Ansatz für
Informationspflichten bei Kenntnis von Ereignissen, die für
Naturkatastrophen ursächlich sein können.46
Wenngleich viele Staaten bilaterale Abkommen vereinbart haben,
auf deren Grundlage sie sich gegenseitig zur Information über Natur-
und Umweltkatastrophen verpflichten,47 sind multilaterale Abkommen,

43
Vgl. dazu Memorandum (Rn. 39), Abs. 24–27.
44
Zum Begriff des geologischen Risikos s. Catalano Sgrosso (Fn. 10), 319–320.
45
Seerechtsübereinkommen der Vereinten Nationen, 10. Dezember 1982, 21 ILM
261 (1982).
46
Vgl. zur ausführlichen Herleitung von Arnauld (Fn. 34), 286–287.
47
 Mit Beispielen aus der deutschen Praxis id., 289 in Fn. 50.
 solidarität, souveränität und völkerrecht153

die systematische Rechtspflichten begründen, selten.48 Allerdings

lässt die Analyse der Staatenpraxis und der opinio juris den Schluss
zu, dass auf völkergewohnheitsrechtlicher Grundlage gegenseitige
Informationspflichten von Staaten bei Naturkatastrophen gelten.49
Diese ergeben sich insbesondere aus der universellen Pflicht zum
Schutz von Menschenleben und den „elementaren Erwägungen der
Menschlichkeit“, die der IGH im Korfu-Kanal-Fall erörterte.50 Das
bedeutet, dass Daten, die aus bestimmten Frühwarnsystemen gewon­
nen werden, an möglicherweise betroffene Staaten weitergeleitet
werden müssen. Beispiele für entsprechende institutionalisierte
Datenerhebungen betreffen Wetterphänomene, die zu Wirbelstürmen
führen können, die Beobachtung und Klassifizierung von Stürmen
und die Warnung vor Flutwellen (Tsunamis) nach Seebeben.51

3. Hilfsleistungen
Es gibt eine Reihe bilateraler und regionaler Abkommen – vor allem in
Europa – in denen gegenseitige Einstands- und Hilfspflichten in
Katastrophenfällen begründet werden. Hier ist ein Reziprozitätselement
erkennbar, von dem das Völkerrecht trotz seiner Weiterentwicklung
noch stark geprägt wird. Wenn Staaten gemeinschaftlich handeln, um
einem einzelnen Staat beizustehen, bezieht sich die Erwartung eines
reziproken Einstehens aber nicht unbedingt auf den Staat, der unter­
stützt wird, sondern darauf, dass die Staatengemeinschaft sich
ebenso solidarisch verhalten wird, wenn ein Staat aus dem Kreis der
Hilfeleistenden von einer Katastrophe betroffen wird. Solidarität ist im
Vergleich zu einem reziproken Ansatz ein aliud. Rüdiger Wolfrum
weist nämlich zu Recht darauf hin, dass der Grundsatz der Solidarität
im Gegensatz zu einer reziproken Pflicht nicht entfällt, wenn die
Erwartung enttäuscht wird.52
Dem Völkergewohnheitsrecht lässt sich keine geschlossene
Systematik zur humanitären Hilfe im Katastrophenfall entnehmen.
Der gewohnheitsrechtliche Status einer konkreten Pflicht zur Hilfe bei
Naturkatastrophen müsste trotz der Staatenpraxis tatsächlicher Hilfe

48
Id., 288–289.
49
Id., 303.
50
Korfu Kanal, ICJ Reports 1949, 4, 22.
51
Zur institutionellen Gestaltung der Seebebenwarnung s. I. Oliounine, Response
of Governmental and Non-Governmental Organizations to Marine Natural Disasters:
The IOC and IOI Case, 20 Ocean Yearbook 7 (2006).
52
Wolfrum (Fn. 16), 228.
154 nele matz-lück

im Hinblick darauf überprüft werden, ob die Leistungen von einer

Rechtsüberzeugung getragen werden. Ob über konkrete Abkommen
hinaus nämlich eine moralische oder eine rechtliche Pflicht als
Grundlage des Handelns angenommen wird, ergibt sich allein aus der
Staatenpraxis gerade nicht.53 Zudem wird oft die grundsätzliche
Freiwilligkeit der Hilfsleistung betont.54 Auch der Begriff des „Gebers“
(donor) weist auf eine freiwillige Spende als auf eine Pflicht hin.55
Die ILC sieht in ihrer Befassung mit dem Schutz von Personen
im Katastrophenfall eine progressive Fortentwicklung des Völkerrechts,
auch wenn die Möglichkeit, einschlägige Normen des Völkergewohn­
heitsrechts zu identifizieren, nicht ausgeschlossen wird.56 Es ist bezeich­
nend, dass die Formulierung einer Pflicht zur Zusammenarbeit zum
Schutz von Personen im Katastrophenfall keine unbeschränkte ist.
Draft Article 5 nimmt zwar eine Pflicht an („shall […] cooperate“),
relativiert diese aber sogleich durch den Zusatz „as appropriate“.
Die grundsätzliche Betonung der nationalen Verantwortung eines
Staates, im Katastrophenfall selbst hinreichenden Schutz für die
Bevölkerung zu gewährleisten, lässt sich auch für eine Pflicht zur
Hilfsleistung durch Drittstaaten heranziehen. Dazu muss man der
Annahme, es liege im Belieben eines Staates, um internationale
Unterstützung bei der Bewältigung einer Naturkatastrophe zu bitten,
die Konzeption einer Pflicht zur Bitte um humanitäre Hilfe entgegen­
setzen.57 Drittstaaten könnten über diesen Weg der Bitte des betroffe­
nen Staats um humanitäre Hilfe in die Pflicht genommen werden, weil
man davon ausgehen muss, dass die Solidarität unter Staaten, wie sie
sich in der völkerrechtlichen Pflicht zur Zusammenarbeit in Art. 55
der VN-Satzung ausdrückt, dazu führt, dass eine solche Bitte nicht
willkürlich abgelehnt werden darf. Teilweise wird auch eine Pflicht des
betroffenen Staates angenommen, (freiwillige) bona fide Angebote der
humanitären Hilfe nicht willkürlich ablehnen zu dürfen. Derzeit aller­
dings ist, wie man auch an den Draft Articles erkennen kann, von
einer gewohnheitsrechtlichen Anerkennung solcher Pflichten nicht
auszugehen.

53
 Mit Beispielen, die für das Fehlen einer opinio juris sprechen Hardcastle / Chua
(Fn. 18), 39.
54
Jakovlejević (Fn. 35), 264.
55
Hardcastle / Chua (Fn. 18), 39.
56
Preliminary Report (Fn. 7), Abs. 42.
57
 Memorandum (Fn. 39), Abs. 57.
 solidarität, souveränität und völkerrecht155

Die Konstruktion von Pflichten zur Hilfsleistung und zur Annahme

von Hilfe, lässt sich nur über eine explizit an den Menschenrechten
orientierte Betrachtung vornehmen. Hier weisen bereits jetzt verschie­
dene Anhaltspunkte auf entsprechende Pflichten zur Hilfsleistung an
die Bevölkerung hin, wenn der betroffene Staat nicht in der Lage oder
nicht willens ist, den Schutz selbst zu garantieren. Die folgende
Erörterung, die mangels allgemeiner Anerkennung der gewohnheits­
rechtlichen Verankerung entsprechender Pflichtenkonstellationen als
de lege ferenda zu bezeichnen ist, legt die Möglichkeiten der Begründung
über die Menschenrechte dar.

D. Souveränität und Menschenrechte

I. Menschenrechte
Opfer von Naturkatastrophen sind besonders gefährdet, ihre ele­
mentarsten Bedürfnisse nicht mehr befriedigen zu können. Die
völkerrechtliche Literatur fordert daher teilweise ein spezifisches
Menschenrecht auf humanitäre Hilfe in Katastrophenfällen.58 Ein sol­
ches Recht für Opfer von Naturkatastrophen ist derzeit aber weder in
den einschlägigen Menschenrechtsverträgen statuiert noch ist eine
gewohnheitsrechtliche Geltung allgemein anerkannt.59 Verschiedene
Resolutionen der VN-Generalversammlung befassen sich mit der Hilfe
im Katastrophenfall und der Dringlichkeit, Individuen mit Hilfe zu
versorgen,60 verzichten aber darauf, ein Recht des Einzelnen auf diese
Hilfe anzuerkennen. Ein französischer Vorschlag für eine Resolution
der VN-Generalversammlung, der ursprünglich eine ausdrückliche
Referenz an das Recht jedes Einzelnen auf humanitäre Unterstützung
enthielt, scheiterte am Widerspruch einiger Entwicklungsländer.61 Nur
zwei menschenrechtliche Verträge erwähnen die besondere Situation
und Schutzbedürftigkeit von Personen im Falle von Naturkatastro­
phen: das Übereinkommen über die Rechte von Menschen mit

58
Z.B. Saechao (Fn. 21), 699–700; Jakovlejević (Fn. 41), 260–261.
59
Die Existenz einer solchen Regel sei jedenfalls unklar, s. Memorandum (Fn. 39),
Abs. 257–258. Jakovlejević (Fn. 41), 258 hält sie für in der Entstehung begriffen. Anders
B. Vukas, Humanitarian Assistance in Cases of Emergency, in: Wolfrum (Fn. 21), Rn.
18, der das Recht auf humanitäre Hilfe für allgemein anerkannt hält.
60
Vgl. Übersicht bei Focarelli (Fn. 21), Rn. 3.
61
Id.
156 nele matz-lück

Behinderungen62 (Art. 11) und die African Charter on the Rights and
Welfare of the Child63 (Art. 23 Abs. 1 und 4).
Auch wenn ein spezielles Recht auf humanitäre Hilfe nicht eindeutig
feststellbar ist, so bleiben die anerkannten Menschenrechte in Fällen
von Naturkatastrophen grundsätzlich anwendbar.64 Im Fall einer
Naturkatastrophe sind vorrangig das Recht auf Leben, wie es z.B. in
Art. 6 Abs. 1 IPBürg verbürgt ist, und Rechte zur Versorgung der
Grundbedürfnisse für ein menschenwürdiges Leben, wie sie sich ins­
besondere aus Art. 25 der Menschenrechtserklärung und Art. 11 und
12 IPwskR ergeben, zu nennen: Nahrung, Wasser, Unterbringung,65
sanitäre Anlagen, Kleidung und Zugang zu medizinischer Versorgung.66
Es kommen aber noch weitere Rechte in Betracht, die für eine
Verletzung in Fällen während und nach Naturkatastrophen ebenfalls
besonders anfällig sind.67

II. Pflichten
1. Schutzpflichten
Der internationale Menschenrechtsschutz ist im Grundsatz so ausge­
richtet, dass Adressat der Pflicht zur Gewährung des Schutzes zunächst
der Heimatstaat, der in ihren Rechten betroffenen Personen ist; das gilt
auch in Situationen von Naturkatastrophen.68 Nach der menschen­
rechtlichen Pflichtentrias darf ein Staat keine Maßnahmen ergreifen,
die mit Menschenrechten unvereinbar sind (duty to respect), er muss
positiv gewährleisten, dass sich auch Private im Einklang mit den
Menschenrechten verhalten (duty to protect) und er muss die Einhaltung
fördern und entsprechende Mittel bereitstellen (duty to fulfil).69 Das

62
Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities, UN Doc. A/61/611 (2006).
63
African Charter on the Rights and Welfare of the Child, OAU Doc. CAB/LEG/
24.9/49 (1990), verfügbar unter http://www.africa-union.org/Official_documents/
Treaties_%20Conventions_%20Protocols/A.%20C.%20ON%20THE%20RIGHT
%20AND%20WELF%20OF%20CHILD.pdf.
64
 Memorandum (Fn. 39), Abs. 252; Draft Article 8.
65
Dazu Ch. Gould, The Right to Housing Recovery after Natural Disasters, 22
Harvard Human Rights Journal 169 (2009).
66
Zu diesen und weiteren Rechten im Zusammenhang mit einer Wiederaufbauphase
nach einer Naturkatastrophe s. Memorandum (Fn. 39), Abs. 253.
67
Focarelli (Fn. 21), Rn. 12 nennt neben Rechten auf körperliche Unversehrtheit
und Freiheit z.B. das Recht auf Zugang zu Bildungseinrichtungen, Meinungsfreiheit,
Zugang zu den Gerichten, politische Betätigung u.a.m.
68
Id., Rn. 9.
69
Vgl. CESCR, General Comment Nr. 12, UN Doc. E/C.12/1999/5, Abs. 15 (1999).
 solidarität, souveränität und völkerrecht157

Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (CESCR) ver­

folgt, bezogen auf das Recht auf Nahrung, in seinem General Comment
Nr. 12 den Ansatz einer Pflicht aller Vertragsstaaten zur aktiven
Gewährleistung von Rechten auch im Fall von Naturkatastrophen.70
Ob vertragliche Menschenrechtsnormen, die eine aktive Schutzver­
pflichtung in Situationen von Naturkatastrophen annehmen, auch
gewohnheitsrechtliche Geltung beanspruchen, ist umstritten und von
dem konkreten Recht abhängig.71
Für die Herstellung des effektiven Schutzes der betroffenen
Bevölkerung ist entscheidend, ob die Pflicht zum Schutz der
Menschenrechte im Fall von Naturkatastrophen auf Drittstaaten über­
geht bzw. diese subsidiär verpflichtet werden, wenn der betroffene
Staat seiner Gewährleistungspflicht nicht nachkommt oder wegen
Notstands davon frei wird.72 Vor dem Hintergrund der Solidarität der
Staatengemeinschaft mit dem Einzelnen, ist bei Naturkatastrophen
eine subsidiäre Pflicht von Drittstaaten zur Gewährleistung durchaus
denkbar.73
Dass völkerrechtliche Schutzpflichten auf andere Staaten übergehen
können, zeigen Beispiele aus dem humanitären Völkerrecht. Eine Reihe
von Abkommen des humanitären Völkerrechts, die sich mit der
Situation von Kriegsgefangenen und der Zivilbevölkerung befassen,
erkennen Pflichten von Drittstaaten an, humanitäre Hilfe und
Versorgung zu gewährleisten. Im Regelfall handelt es bei dem
Verpflichteten aber um die Besatzungsmacht, die Kontrolle und
Verantwortung für das betroffene Gebiet wahrnimmt.74 Damit bleibt es
folglich bei der Situation, dass Schutz durch den Staat gewährt werden
muss, der im einschlägigen Zeitraum staatliche Autorität wahrnimmt
und dem aus dieser Funktion Schutzpflichten entstehen. Eine parallele

70
Hier ist die Rede von einer „obligation to fulfil (provide)“ (Hervorhebung im
Original), s. id., Abs. 15.
71
Focarelli (Fn. 21), Rn. 9.
72
Naturkatastrophen gehören zu den Ereignissen, die die Berufung auf Notstand
rechtfertigen, s. VN Menschenrechtskomitee, General Comment 29: States of
Emergency (Article 4), 24. Juli 2001, GAOR 56th Session, Supp 40, Vol 1, 202, Abs. 5.
Allerdings ist z.B. das Recht auf Leben von der Notstandsklausel des Art. 4 IPBürg
gemäß dessen Abs. 2 nicht erfasst und der Notstand muss ein solches Ausmaß errei­
chen, dass das Leben der Nation bedroht ist. Auch das erscheint bei Naturkatastrophen
nicht ausgeschlossen, dürfte aber dennoch die Ausnahme sein.
73
Die Frage wird auch aufgeworfen von Hardcastle / Chua (Fn. 19), 41.
74
Vgl. z.B. Art. 69 des 1. Zusatzprotokolls, Protocol Additional to the Geneva
Conventions of 12 August 1949, and relating to the protection of victims of internatio­
nal armed conflicts (Protocol I), 8. Juni 1977, 1125 UNTS 3 (1979).
158 nele matz-lück

subsidiäre Schutzpflicht, die zum Tragen kommt, wenn der primär

Verpflichtete zwar die Kontrolle des Gebiets ausübt, seinen Gewähr­
leistungen aber nicht nachkommen kann oder will, kennt das humani­
täre Völkerrecht nicht.
Aus Gründen der Effektivität des Menschenrechtsschutzes für
Personen in Notsituationen ist eine subsidiäre Einstandspflicht von
Drittstaaten zu Gunsten der betroffenen Bevölkerung, deren Staat
die elementare Hilfe nicht leistet, notwendig. Menschenrechte sind
Ausdruck der Wertbezogenheit des Völkerrechts, die es mit Wirkung
gegenüber Allen ausschließen muss, gravierende Menschenrechtsver­
letzungen zu ignorieren. Die eigentlichen rechtlichen Schwierigkeiten
sind auch nicht in einer solchen subsidiären Schutzpflicht zu sehen,
sondern ergeben sich erst auf der Sekundärebene. Kommt ein Staat sei­
ner eigenen Schutzverpflichtung nicht nach, stellt sich nämlich die
Frage, ob er als Konsequenz zur Duldung der Wahrnehmung dieser
Schutzpflicht durch Dritte verpflichtet wird. Es könnte sonst die
Konstellation eintreten, dass aus den Menschenrechten eine subsidiäre
Pflicht der Staatengemeinschaft zum Schutz der Opfer einer
Naturkatastrophe abgeleitet wird, Staaten dieser Pflicht aber nicht
nachkommen können, weil der betroffene Staat sein Einverständnis
verweigert.

2. Duldungspflicht
Trotz aller Einschränkungen des Souveränitätsbegriffs gelten der
Grundsatz der territorialen Integrität75 und das Interventionsverbot76
als Grundpfeiler des Völkerrechts fort. Gegenseitiger Respekt einer
Sphäre innerer Angelegenheiten bleibt damit trotz der zunehmenden
Verschränkung staatlicher Aktivitäten und einer Kooperationsfunktion
des Völkerrechts ein kennzeichnendes Element. Auch bei der Hilfe
nach Naturkatastrophen ist zunächst davon auszugehen, dass die Hilfe
durch Drittstaaten, unabhängig davon, ob sie direkt oder durch
Institutionen geleistet wird, vom Einverständnis des betroffenen Staates
abhängig ist.77 Obwohl die einem Staat vorbehaltenen Aufgaben in

75
Art. 2 Abs. 4 VN-Satzung sichert die territoriale Integrität im Sinne des Schutzes
der Staatsgrenzen.
76
Wenngleich sich ein zwischenstaatliches Interventionsverbot nicht ausdrück­
lich aus der Satzung der VN ergibt, lässt es sich als notwendige Sicherung der souverä­
nen Gleichheit von Staaten implizit aus Art. 2 Abs. 1 VN-Satzung entnehmen,
J. Delbrück / R. Wolfrum, Völkerrecht, Bd. I/3, 798 (2. Aufl. 2002).
77
So eindeutig GV Res. 46/182 vom 19. Dezember 1991, Annex, Abs. 3.
 solidarität, souveränität und völkerrecht159

ihrem Inhalt und Umfang der Fortentwicklung und dem jeweiligen

Stand des Völkerrechts unterworfen sind,78 sind der Umgang mit einer
Notsituation, die Organisation und Koordination von Hilfe und die
Verteilung von Ressourcen im Ausgangspunkt interne Aufgaben.
Neben der Souveränität wird dafür auch ein Argument der
Praktikabilität angeführt, indem davon ausgegangen wird, dass ein
Staat die Situation grundsätzlich selbst am besten einschätzen kann.79
Daraus folgt, dass gegenwärtig ein Staat zwar die Pflicht zum Schutz
der Bevölkerung in Situationen von Naturkatastrophen hat, eine
Verletzung dieser Schutzpflicht aber neben der Staatenverantwortlich­
keit und der möglichen Feststellung des Völkerrechtsbruchs durch
Organe entsprechender Menschenrechtsverträge keine Folgen hat.
Hilfeleistung gegen den erklärten Willen des betroffenen Staates sind
eine völkerrechtlich unzulässige Intervention. Allein aus einer subsidi­
ären Pflicht der Drittstaaten zum Schutz der Menschenrechte der
Opfer von Naturkatastrophen lässt sich nicht entnehmen, dass diese
geeignet sein soll, die Souveränität des Heimatstaates derartig zu
beschränken, dass es auf das Einverständnis nicht mehr ankommt.
Eine Ausnahme vom Interventionsverbot wäre dann einschlägig, wenn
der VN-Sicherheits­rat auf Grundlage einer Friedensbedrohung durch
die Ablehnung von humanitärer Hilfe verbindliche Maßnahmen nach
Kapitel VII beschließt.80
Sofern man den Menschenrechtsschutz der Bevölkerung als
eigentliches Ziel der Solidarität der Staatengemeinschaft und die
Souveränität von Staaten vor dem Hintergrund eines individualisier­
ten Sicherheitsbegriffs des Völkerrechts betrachtet, lässt sich dieses
Ergebnis nicht aufrecht erhalten. Entnimmt man den Menschenrechten
eine Pflicht zur Hilfeleistung durch Drittstaaten mit dem Ziel, die
Bevölkerung zu schützen und die Einhaltung elementarer Men­
schenrechte zu sichern, muss diese ihrerseits eine Reflektion in einer
Pflicht des betroffenen Staates finden, Hilfe auch zuzulassen. Das wäre
die Konsequenz eines effektiven Menschenrechtsschutzes für Opfer
von Naturkatastrophen, weil eine subsidiäre Schutzpflicht von
Drittstaaten ansonsten ins Leere liefe. Das humanitäre Völkerrecht
kennt Pflichten des Besatzungsstaates zur Duldung von humanitärer

78
Delbrück / Wolfrum (Fn. 76), 809.
79
Vukas (Fn. 59), Rn. 20.
80
Bisher hat der Sicherheitsrat nur im Zusammenhang mit bewaffneten Konflikten
Resolutionen zur humanitären Hilfe erlassen; vgl. SR Res. 688 vom 5. April 1991, UN
Doc. S/RES/0688, Abs. 3.
160 nele matz-lück

Hilfe durch andere Staaten oder durch eine unparteiische humanitäre

Organisation z.B. in Art. 59 des IV. Genfer Abkommens.81
Die Draft Articles entwickeln allerdings kein dementsprechendes
Pflichtenverhältnis. Es fehlt bereits an einer subsidiären Schutzpflicht
von Drittstaaten. Zu den Pflichten des betroffenen Staats heißt es in
Draft Article 9 nur, dass dieser den Schutz der Personen und
Hilfsleistungen auf seinem Territorium gewährleisten muss und dass
er die vorrangige Rolle bei der Steuerung, Kontrolle, Koordinierung
und Überwachung von Hilfsleistungen einnimmt.82 Diese Pflichten
betreffen gerade nicht die Frage, ob und in welchem Umfang Hilfe
zugelassen werden muss, sondern beruhen auf der Souveränität des
Staates, über die Annahme von Hilfe und ihre Verteilung selbst zu ent­
scheiden. Die Bevölkerung, deren Schutz die Draft Articles dem Titel
des Projekts gemäß und der Definition des Zwecks des Instruments in
Draft Article 2 sicherstellen sollen, wird in die hier genannten Pflichten
gar nicht einbezogen.
Mögliche Ansätze, den Schutz der Bevölkerung auch gegen den
Willen des betroffenen Staates zu gewährleisten, liegen in der
Anerkennung eines Rechts oder sogar einer Pflicht zur Einmischung
(droit d’ingérence/devoir d’ingérence83) oder in der Ausweitung und
gewohnheitsrechtlichen Verankerung einer Schutzverantwortung für
Fälle von Naturkatastrophen. Beide Konstruktionen beanspruchen
gegenwärtig keine allgemeine Anerkennung hinsichtlich ihrer völker­
rechtlichen Geltung.

III. Droit d’ingérence

Das Konzept des droit d’ingérence ist in der völkerrechtlichen Ausein­
andersetzung zunehmend von dem Konzept der Schutzverantwortung
und darauf basierenden Pflichten abgelöst worden. Ein Recht zum
Eingreifen ist in der völkerrechtlichen Auseinandersetzung mit
einer Mandatierung durch die Vereinten Nationen verknüpft. Als
Beispiel der Wahrnehmung eines droit d’ingérence gilt die bereits
erwähnte VN-Sicherheitsratsresolution 688 vom 5. April 199184 zur

81
Geneva Convention Relative to the Protection of Civilian Persons in Time of War,
12. August 1949, 75 UNTS 287 (1950).
82
Das steht im Einklang mit GV Res. 45/100 vom 14. Dezember 1990.
83
Vor allem in der französischsprachigen Literatur ist ein solches Recht zur
Hilfeleistung im Notfall früh und umfassend erörtert worden. Vgl. mwN den Überblick
bei Focarelli (Fn. 21), Rn. 2–3 und die Select Bibliography.
84
S. o. Fn. 80.
 solidarität, souveränität und völkerrecht161

humanitären Hilfe für die kurdische Minderheit in Irak.85 Für Hilfe bei
Naturkatastrophen gibt es keine Beispiele aus der Praxis der Vereinten
Nationen.
Ein Recht zum Eingreifen müsste die Souveränität eines Staates der­
gestalt einschränken, dass humanitäre Hilfe geduldet werden muss, um
dem gemeinsamen Ziel des Menschenrechtsschutzes gerecht zu wer­
den. Vor dem Hintergrund der oben vorgenommenen Ableitung einer
subsidiären Schutzpflicht von Drittstaaten aus den Menschenrechten
müsste sogar eine Pflicht zur Einmischung bestehen, weil nur ein
Pflichtenverhältnis das Ziel des effektiven Menschenrechtsschutzes
fördern kann. Ist es in das Belieben der Staatengemeinschaft gestellt,
einzugreifen, verliert die Solidarität mit dem Einzelnen zum Schutz
seiner Menschenrechte seine Bedeutung.
Eine Pflicht zur ingérence, die inhaltlich dem Konzept der
Schutzverantwortung zwar ähnelt, aber nicht mit ihr gleichzusetzen
ist,86 ist im Hinblick auf ihren Inhalt nur schwer bestimmbar. In jedem
Fall müsste die Annahme einer solchen Pflicht mit der Definition von
Kriterien einhergehen, die einer rechtlichen Überprüfung standhalten
und die bestimmen, in welchen Fällen ein Eingreifen zulässig und
erforderlich ist, welche Art von Maßnahmen zur humanitären Hilfe
rechtlich geboten sind und wie diese durchgesetzt werden dürfen.
Ansonsten steht zu befürchten, dass ein Eingreifen im Einzelfall eher
von politischen und strategischen als von rechtlichen Erwägungen
geleitet wird.87

IV. Schutzverantwortung
Die Annahme einer Schutzverantwortung der internationalen
Gemeinschaft zu Gunsten der von einer Naturkatastrophe betroffenen
Bevölkerung in Fällen, in denen der betroffene Staat keine humanitäre
Hilfe leistet oder zulässt, ist eine weitere Möglichkeit, die Spannung
zwischen Souveränität und Menschenrechten im Sinne letzterer aufzu­
lösen. Dabei beruht das Konzept der Schutzverantwortung darauf, dass
Staaten nicht nur berechtigt, sondern verpflichtet sind, zum Schutz der
Opfer schwerer Menschenrechtsverletzungen einzugreifen, so dass

85
Domestici Met (Fn. 42), 407.
86
Focarelli (Fn. 21), Rn. 27.
87
 M.-C. Djiena Wembou, Le droit d’ingérence humanitaire: un droit aux fonde­
ments incertains, au contenu imprécise et a géométrie variable, 4 African Journal of
International and Comparative Law 570, 586–590 (1992).
162 nele matz-lück

Indifferenz und Untätigkeit ihrerseits Pflichtverletzungen wären.88

Herleitung und wesentlicher Inhalt einer auf die Verhinderung
schwerster Menschenrechtsverletzungen gerichteten Schutzverant­
wortung sind ebenso umfassend erörtert worden wie ihr völker­
rechtlicher Status.89 Für die Anwendbarkeit des Konzepts auf
Naturkatastrophen gilt, dass sich zwar der Bericht der International
Commission on Intervention and State Responsibility (ICISS)90 auf alle
Katastrophen inklusive Naturkatastrophen bezog, die Rezeption im
World Summit Outcome aber eine Einschränkung des Konzepts auf
die Fälle von Völkermord, Kriegsverbrechen, ethnische Säuberungen
und Verbrechen gegen die Menschlichkeit vornahm.91
Heute wird daher eine Erstreckung einer Schutzverantwortung
auf Fälle von Naturkatastrophen selbst bei schweren Menschenrechts­
verletzungen unter Hinweis auf die Beschränkung im World Summit
Outcome abgelehnt.92 Die ablehnenden Reaktionen auf einen französi­
schen Vorschlag, das Konzept im Falle Myanmars wegen der katastro­
phalen Lage der Bevölkerung nach dem Wirbelsturm Nargis und der
staatlichen Erschwerung der humanitärer Hilfe zur Geltung zu brin­
gen, verdeutlicht die Zurückhaltung vieler Staaten, die Schutzver­
antwortung auf Situationen von Naturkatastrophen auszudehnen.93
Die Schutzverantwortung ist ein mächtiges Instrument, nationale
Souveränität zu überwinden. Erörtert man eine Ausweitung auf Opfer
von Naturkatastrophen, stellt sich die Frage nach der Vergleichbarkeit
von z.B. Völkermord und einem Untätigbleiben eines Staates nach
einer Naturkatastrophe auf seinem Territorium. Es lässt sich argumen­
tieren, es wäre ein qualitativer Unterschied zwischen einer aktiven
Verfolgung durch staatliche Stellen mit dem Ziel der Vernichtung einer
Bevölkerungsgruppe einerseits und der Verweigerung der Annahme

88
Boisson de Chazournes (Fn. 27), 100.
89
Vgl. aus der Fülle der Literatur nur M. Benzing, Sovereignty and the Responsibility
to Protect in International Criminal Law, in: D. König et al. (Hrsg.), International Law
Today: New Challenges and the Need for Reform?, 17 (2008); J. Brunnée, International
Law and Collective Concerns: Reflections on the Responsibility to Protect, in:
T. M. Ndiaye / R. Wolfrum (Hrsg.), Law of the Sea, Environmental Law and Settlement
of Disputes, 35 (2007); M. Payandeh, With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility?
The Concept of the Responsibility to Protect within the Process of International Law
Making, 35 Yale Journal of International Law 469 (2010).
90
ICISS, The Responsibility to Protect: Report of the International Commission on
Intervention and State Responsibility (2001).
91
2005 World Summit Outcome, UN Doc. A/RES/60/1, Abs. 138 (2005).
92
 Memorandum (Fn. 39), Abs. 250 und dort in Fn. 756.
93
Vgl. Boisson de Chazournes (Fn. 27), 98 mwN dort in Fn. 17.
 solidarität, souveränität und völkerrecht163

humanitärer Hilfe durch Drittstaaten nach einer Naturkatastrophe

andererseits. Bestehen aber schwere Menschenrechtsverletzungen, die
die Opfer von Naturkatastrophen schutzlos stellen, kann die Ursache
dafür nicht ausschlaggebend sein. Für den Menschenrechtsschutz
muss das Schutzbedürfnis im Vordergrund stehen. Die Berufung auf
die Solidarität mit dem Einzelnen darf nicht danach unterscheiden, ob
die Ursache ein Handeln oder ein Unterlassen ist, sondern muss danach
streben, die Menschenrechtsverletzung zu beenden.
Angesichts der Bedeutung einer Schutzverantwortung für Opfer
von Naturkatastrophen für die Grundlagen des Völkerrechts, wären
als nächste Schritte die Notwendigkeit und die Ausgestaltung der
institutionellen Einbettung einer Intervention auf Grundlage der
Schutzverantwortung für Opfer von Naturkatastrophen, deren
Hei­matstaaten nicht den erforderlichen Schutz gewähren, in die
Entscheidungsstrukturen der Vereinten Nationen und die für
Naturkatastrophen geltenden Kriterien für Eingriffe zu erörtern.94
Dazu gehört u.a., dass eine Intervention nur eine ultima ratio sein
kann und verhältnismäßig sein muss.95 Die Befassung der VN ist
eine zwingende Voraussetzung, um Missbrauch der Interventions­
möglichkeiten zu vermeiden. Es ist aber fraglich, ob politische
Erwägungen und strategische Entscheidungen aus dem Prozess
herausgehalten werden können. Trotz einer aus der Schutzverantwor­
tung folgenden Pflicht bleiben außerdem inhärente Schwierigkeiten
z.B. hinsichtlich der Beurteilung, wann Opfer von Naturkatastrophen
auch Opfer gravierender Menschenrechtsverletzungen sind, bestehen.
Nicht jede Menschenrechtsverletzung kann das Einschreiten der
Staatengemeinschaft gegen den Willen des betroffenen Staates recht­
fertigen. An das Überschreiten einer Eingriffsschwelle sind besondere
Anforderungen hinsichtlich der Schwere der Menschenrechtsverlet­
zung zu stellen, deren Vorliegen im Einzelfall festgestellt werden muss.

E. Solidarität und Souveränität

Solidarität als Leitprinzip kann nur dann zur Überwindung staatlicher

Souveränität als möglichem Hindernis für gemeinschaftliche
Hilfeleistung führen, wenn Solidarität auf die Bevölkerung und den

94
Diese Erörterung geht über den Rahmen des vorliegenden Beitrags hinaus.
95
Im Einzelnen Barber (Fn. 20), 28 und 30.
164 nele matz-lück

Schutz elementarer Menschenrechte bezogen wird, und wenn auf die­

ser Grundlage eine Verantwortung der internationalen Gemeinschaft
etabliert wird, die als ultima ratio auch die Intervention zum
Schutz der Bevölkerung zulässt. Die Schutzverantwortung der
Staatengemeinschaft im Falle schwerer Menschenrechtsverletzungen
ist ein solcher Ausdruck der Solidarität.96 Erst über eine rechtliche
Verankerung einer solchen Verantwortung auch für schwere
Menschenrechtsverletzungen während oder nach Naturkatastrophen,
d.h. mittels der rechtlichen Konkretisierung des Solidaritätsprinzips zu
Gunsten von Individuen im Katastrophenfall, kann ein Ansatz für
humanitäre Hilfe gegen den Willen des betroffenen Staats, die dennoch
keine völkerrechtlich unzulässige Einmischung in seine domaine reser-
vée ist, begründet werden.
Die Rolle des Staates wird dadurch nicht negativ verändert. Vielmehr
betont die Pflicht, Hilfe selbst zu gewähren oder zuzulassen, dass ein
Staat nicht um seiner selbst willen, sondern um der Bevölkerung willen
existiert.97 Seine Souveränität und der Umfang innerer Angelegenheiten
werden in Fortführung der Betonung gemeinsamer Werte neu – und
einschränkend – definiert, wenn es dazu kommt, dass die Staatenge­
meinschaft zu Gunsten der Bevölkerung eingreift. Diese Einschränkung
realisiert sich aber nur im Fall der vorherigen Pflichtverletzung.
Beschränkungen, die als Folge völkerrechtswidrigen Verhaltens zum
Tragen kommen, kennt das Völkerrecht zunehmend und in vielfältiger
Weise, ohne dass daraus ein genereller Bedeutungsverlust der Rolle des
Staates gefolgert wird.
Die Kodifikation und Fortentwicklung des Völkerrechts durch die
Völkerrechtskommission wird keine Lösung des Spannungsverhält­
nisses zwischen menschenrechtsbasierten Eingriffsrechten, Hilf­ s­
pflichten und Souveränitätserwägungen bieten, geschweige denn zu
einer Anerkennung eines droit d’ingérence oder einer Schutz­
verantwortung mit Pflicht zum Eingreifen führen. Die Hoffnung, dass
klare Pflichten zur Zusammenarbeit mit dem Ziel effektiver
Hilfeleistung zum Schutz der Menschenrechte des Einzelnen begrün­
det und um die Pflicht der betroffenen Staaten zur Akzeptanz von

96
Id., 103.
97
Wolfrum (Fn. 16), 228 sagt dazu, der Staat sei „a servant to the population“. Dass
Staaten Instrumente „at the service of their peoples, and not vice versa“ seien, betont
mwN Focarelli (Fn. 21), Rn. 27.
 solidarität, souveränität und völkerrecht165

Hilfsleistungen zu Gunsten der notleidenden Bevölkerung ergänzt

werden, erfüllt sich schon im Ansatz der Draft Articles nicht.
Eine Fortentwicklung des Völkerrechts durch einen expliziten
Artikelkatalog, der mit größter Wahrscheinlichkeit auf Ablehnung der
Staaten treffen würde, scheint trotz des Desiderats entsprechender
Schutz- und Duldungspflichten auch wenig geeignet, die Lage für
die Bevölkerung im Katastrophenfall zu verbessern. Dass Staaten sich
auf ein multilaterales Abkommen einlassen, mit dem sie anderen
Staaten Zugang zu ihrem Territorium gewähren, selbst wenn dies
auf den Katastrophenfall beschränkt ist, wird auch von Befürwortern
einer Kodifikation als unrealistisch eingeschätzt.98 Gleiches gilt für
die Kodifikation einer Neubestimmung der Souveränität, die
Interventionen zum Schutz von Menschenrechtsverletzungen zulässt.
So wird es auf absehbare Zeit aus Sicht der Verknüpfung von Solidarität,
Souveränität und Völkerrecht bei der hier angestellten Erörterung der
Lage de lege ferenda bleiben.

98
Vgl. Hardcastle / Chua (Fn. 18), 44.
 From Coexistence to Détente and Cooperation.
Some Lessons from the Cold War for a
Contemporary Era of Clashing Cultures
or Colliding Civilisations

Edward McWhinney*

Peaceful coexistence, as juridical concept, denotes a factual, existential

condition with normative legal consequences. It belongs, properly, to
what Kelsen identified as the Grundnorm, or high-level authoritative
starting point for any mature legal system, with subordinate, interme-
diate or lower level, legal norms emerging from it in the dynamic pro-
cess of unfolding and development of the basic norm itself. The basic
norm for any legal system, national or international, is by definition a
pre-legal, meta-legal fact which must, of necessity, have a certain cor-
respondence to reality for purposes of identification of the basic norm
in order to be of any operational utility in action. The emphasis, here,
has to be in legal realist terms, on the law-in-action, and not the law-in-
books, otherwise it must end up, as Harold Laski observed, as an exer-
cise in logic and not in life. This is a determination obviously crucial to
international law and its rôle in the world community at any time.
As legal term-of-art, peaceful coexistence is to be found in the cele-
brated Pancha Shila Agreement of 1954 between the People’s Republic
of China and the Republic of India,1 whose 50th Anniversary was cel-
ebrated by leaders of the two countries in a major ceremony held in
Beijing in 2004.2 Latter-day (late 1940s, early 1950s) Soviet jurists

* The author wishes to acknowledge long-standing associations with the Max-

Plank-Institut in Heidelberg, as Guest Professor in the academic year 1960–1961 and
again in 1990; and special ties to then Director, Hermann Mosler and his colleagues
Karl Doehring and Rudolf Bernhardt. Having served as co-Editor, with the Max-
Plank-Institut’s current Director, Rüdiger Wolfrum, for the Liber Amicorum Judge
Shigeru Oda (2 volumes, 2002), the author salutes Professor Wolfrum on the occasion
of the Liber Amicorum now dedicated to him.
1
Pancha Shila: Sino-Indian Agreement of 29 April 1954, Trade and Intercourse
between the Tibetan Region of China and India; Joint Statement by Prime Minister
Chou En-Lai and Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru of 28 June 1954.
2
Wen Jiabao, Statement, Symposium on Fiftieth Anniversary of Pancha Shila Agree­
ment of 1954, 3 Chinese Journal of International Law 363 (2004); K. R. Narayanan,
168 edward mcwhinney

would find roots for it in the early, pre-1917 October Revolution writ-
ings of the great Lenin himself. It can certainly be found in occasional
speeches of Stalin and Foreign Minister Molotov. Nevertheless, as a
principal talking-point in Soviet foreign policy it clearly emerges only
in the period after Stalin’s death in 1953 and the determined mounting
of an official de-stalinisation campaign in Soviet internal affairs after
that. With the consolidation of Premier Nikita Khrushchev’s power,
following his defeat of the ultra-orthodox, neo-Stalinist, “Anti-Party”
group, peaceful coexistence becomes a leitmotiv for Soviet foreign pol-
icy,3 proclaimed by Soviet diplomats and officials in their public
encounters with their Western counterparts, not merely in the official,
inter-governmental arenas of the United Nations and main UN agen-
cies but also in important private, non-governmental arenas (scientific,
academic and other) suddenly opened up to Soviet representation and
active participation at Khrushchev’s initiative.

A. Historical Origins of the Peaceful Coexistence

Campaign

As with many high-level, political-juridical concepts made use of in the

practical, operational exercise of foreign policy and its concrete policy-
making opportunities, peaceful coexistence seemed always to have a
somewhat ambivalent character: first of all, directed inwards for con-
sumption in internal Soviet political life and as a rationalisation of
main new doctrinal trends in Soviet external relations vis-à-vis the
West; and then, at the same time, directed outwards to policy-makers
and peoples in other countries outside the Soviet bloc,—sometimes
perhaps to persuade and conciliate, and sometimes perhaps to baffle
and confuse as to the real Soviet intentions. But, and this as a not neces-
sarily intended consequence of the working of the dialectic within
Soviet society itself, there may even have been, in time, a certain change
in its significance and emphasis,—as operational concept of Soviet

Statement to Symposium, 3 Chinese Journal of International Law 369 (2004); Boutros

Boutros-Ghali, Statement to Symposium, 3 Chinese Journal of International Law 373
(2004); E. McWhinney, The renewed vitality of the International Law Principles of
Peaceful Coexistence: the 50th Anniversary of the China/India Pancha Shila Agreement
of 1954, 3 Chinese Journal of International Law 379 (2004).
3
N. S. Khrushchev, An Account to the Party and the People: Report of the Central
Committee, Communist Party of the Soviet Union, to the 22nd Congress of the Party
(17 October 1961).
 from coexistence to détente and cooperation169

foreign policy—for Soviet decision-makers themselves. It was from the

perception, in the West, and no doubt, reciprocally, on the Soviet side,
of some such movement and of the credibility to be attached to it in
terms of concrete changes in negotiating stances on key conflicts issues,
that initiatives in both East and West to break out from too rigid Cold
War policies, may be said to have begun. This was, at first tentatively
only, since against a background of a general public on both sides still
inured to the worst of Cold War rhetoric and propaganda. There was,
in the result, fierce debate and division, not merely as between East and
West, but also within each bloc, as to the perils of engagement in any
dialogue on peaceful coexistence. On the Western side, peaceful coex-
istence was viewed by many as a Trojan Horse device, designed to lull
the West into false feelings of security and passivity on the military
defense front while the Soviet Union could proceed quietly with its
plans to “bury the West”, with its rapidly developing nuclear missiles
arsenal. On the Soviet side, similar strong pressures on main Soviet
protagonists of dialogue with the West were suggested also to be there
and would later, only after the event, be confirmed.
The Soviet public campaign in behalf of peaceful coexistence began
in the United Nations and other main international arenas, public and
private—in the UN General Assembly and its Sixth (Legal) Committee
in behalf of an immediate act of codification of postulated international
law principles of peaceful coexistence. It was replicated, at the same
time, in similar approaches within the UN’s own specialised legal draft-
ing body, the International Law Commission; and in the Geneva-based,
(private and non-governmental) scientific-legal academy, the Institut
de Droit international; and in the London-based, (also private and non-
governmental) International Law Association. The first non-Soviet,
and certainly Western public response, was to confirm already-held
suspicions as to Soviet good faith and to bring the charge that the Soviet
Union was attempting to get around or even abolish general interna-
tional law as a corpus of rules of universal application to all states. This
charge was, however, immediately countered on the Soviet side by
Soviet jurists who took the opportunity of repudiating doctrinal
authorities within their own ranks who might be viewed as not recog-
nising a general international law. The scholarly exchanges at the time
between Gregory Tunkin and his distinguished contemporary,
Professor Eugene Korovin, are here worth examining. The reaction,
nevertheless, in main Western legal arenas, public (UN) and private,
was generally cautious and negative in the result: as the fine British
170 edward mcwhinney

diplomat and jurist, Sir Ian Sinclair, would later note;4 the subject itself
was considered too controversial and divisive, in philosophical and
practical terms, to allow reasoned debate and reasoned, concrete
results. Peaceful coexistence was rejected as “too political” for pur-
poses of inclusion in turn by the UN General Assembly’s Sixth (Legal)
Committee, and then by the ILC, and perhaps more significantly even
by the wholly scientific-legal, Geneva academy, the Institut de Droit
international. It was left to the private, London-based International
Law Association, a meeting point mainly for professional, practising
lawyers, but with significant representation also of Continental Western
European lawyers and also, for the first time, post-War, of scholars
from Russia and eastern Europe, who were going to meetings in the
West under the new, Khrushchev opening-of-the-door policy, to
place peaceful coexistence on the work agenda and to list it for public
debate, opening at its biennial meeting held in Dubrovnik, Yugoslavia,
in 1956.5
The public debate was now engaged in, and though it remained
effectively confined to the ILA for the immediate present, the Soviet
bloc sent their intellectually best and most impressive jurists as their
spokespersons—among them Gregory Tunkin (who was then Legal
Advisor to Khrushchev)6 and Manfred Lachs of Poland (later President

4
I. Sinclair, Principles of International Law concerning Friendly Relations and
Cooperation among States; in: M.K. Nawaz (ed.), Essays in International Law in
Honour of Krishna Rao, 139 (1975).
5
The active public engagement of the International Law Association, and its special
Committee on Juridical Aspects of Peaceful Coexistence from 1956 on, and the intel-
lectual exchanges within the Committee in research papers and open debate, are amply
recorded. Report of the Forty-Seventh Conference, International Law Association,
1956 (1957); Report of the Forty-Eighth Conference, 1958 (1959); Report of the Forty-
Ninth Conference, 1960 (1961); Report of the Fiftieth Conference, 1962 (1963).
6
Tunkin began his public career as chargé d’affaires of a Soviet mission, based
in Ottawa in 1941, before the US had entered World War II, with responsibility to
supervise transfer to Russia of aircraft and similar military equipment conveyed by
the US to Canada under the then US Lend-Lease Agreement with Great Britain and
its Allies. He was fluent in English and French, and his clarity and succinctness
and freedom from rhetorical excesses in communications in these languages, as in his
own, native Russian, undoubtedly facilitated his contact with Western jurists. Among
his many works on Peaceful Coexistence, two influential early works, and a later,
comprehensive study on Legal Theory: G. I. Tunkin, Sorok Let Sosyshchestvovania
i Mezhdunarodnoe Pravo, 1958 Sovetskii Ezhegodnik Mezdunarodnogo Pravo 15
(1959); G. I. Tunkin, Coexistence and International Law, 95 Recueil des Cours de
L’Académie de Droit International de la Haye 1 (1958); G. I. Tunkin, Teoria
Mezhdunarodnogo Prava (1970) (especially at 23–100).
 from coexistence to détente and cooperation171

of the ICJ). There were also interesting jurists from Non-Aligned coun-
tries (Krishna Rao from India;7 Milan Bartos and Milos Radojkovic
from Yugoslavia8 which was then “deviating”, in measure, and politi-
cally successfully, from larger Soviet bloc policies. These same jurists
also tended to return, on their own national delegations, to the annual
sessions of the UN General Assembly and to other official UN agencies.
They were thus able to build on the ILA dialogue in their own personal
exchanges with Western jurists in those other international legal fora
where coexistence, by early advanced design, had been deliberately
excluded.
Lord McNair, sometime President of the International Court of
Justice and President of the Institut de Droit international, and an
urbane and cultivated jurist, felt able to remark how the term peaceful
coexistence, once anathema to Western foreign ministers, had begun to
lose its controversial quality. The intellectual-legal contribution to this
example of transmogrification of an original, deemed heretical, con-
cept, made by talented Continental European jurists like Maître Henri
Cochaux of Brussels, President of the Belgian Branch of the ILA, and
an able and politically impartial Chair of the long-serving ILA Special
Committee on peaceful coexistence, and by Professor John Hazard, the
leading US authority on Soviet law and legal science and a sometime
consultant to the US State Department must properly be acknowledged
here.9 The present author’s own involvement in the early stages of the
East-West coexistence debate and dialogue—as with Hazard and oth-
ers, initially somewhat wary or cautious—on the approach to concrete

7
Krishna Rao was Legal Advisor to the Indian Foreign Ministry and personally
close to Indian Foreign Minister Krishna Menon, who led in the emergence on the
World scene of the Non-Aligned Countries, the Group of 77, and Bandoeng Group, as
key political and legal fora for countries not associated with either the Soviet or the
US-led blocs of the Cold War era. Krishna Rao is commemorated, after his early death,
in the special Liber Amicorum, M. K. Nawaz (ed.) (note 4).
8
Bartos, who had been associated with Marshal Tito in the World War II Partisan
Resistance, seems to have been a principal author of the Yugoslav “Deviation” political
stratagem within the Soviet bloc: M. Bartos, Quelques observations sur la Coexistence
Pacifique Active. 75 Yugoslovenska Revija za Medunarodno Prava 205 (1960). See also
M. Radojkovic, 75 Yugoslovenska za Medunarodno Pravo 205 (1960); and M. Sahovic,
The conceptions of the contemporary theory of International Law on Coexistence, 12
New Yugoslav Law 73 (1961).
9
J. N. Hazard, Codifying Peaceful Coexistence, 55 American Journal of International
Law 109 (1961); J. N. Hazard, Coexistence Codification Reconsidered, 57 American
Journal of International Law 88 (1963).
172 edward mcwhinney

scientific-legal engagement with Soviet counterparts, is recorded in

then contemporary publications.10

B. Operationalising the International Law Principles

of Peaceful Coexistence

The initial debates within the ILA over peaceful coexistence as postu-
lated imperative principle of contemporary international law revealed,
at the opening exchanges, a clear intellectual-legal difference between
Western and non-Western jurists. This was partly tactical in origin
and design, though it also revealed some interesting incidental legal-
systemic elements—in the Soviet approach as opposed, certainly, to
Western common-law based thinking—a Russian preoccupation with
an act of codification of a postulated list of abstract, a priori general
principles, as opposed to a US and Western insistence on an empirical,
case-oriented approach. The compromise that was eventually reached
in the ILA and eventually at the United Nations too, was to adopt both
methodologies for problem-solving, in a two-track approach that
reflected an operational, “many Roads to Rome” philosophy. The UN
General Assembly agreed to strike a special Committee, fully repre-
sentative of both main systems, East and West, charged with the man-
date of elaborating and drafting a Declaration of General Principles of
International Law; though as a verbal concession to Western still
remaining sensitivities on coexistence as a conceived special Soviet
international law concept, doing that under the Western-favoured soft
euphemism of Friendly Relations and Cooperation among States in
accord with the United Nations Charter. It would all finally be formally

10
E. McWhinney, “Peaceful Coexistence” and Soviet-Western International Law, 56
American Journal of International Law 951 (1962); E. McWhinney, Le concept sovié-
tique de ‘coexistence pacifique’ et les rapports juridiques entre l’URSS et les Etats occi-
dentaux, (1963) Revue Générale de Droit International Public 545; Peaceful
Coexistence since the Soviet-Western détente, 4 Indian Journal of International Law
500 (1964); E. McWhinney, Soviet and Western International Law and the Cold War in
the era of bipolarity: inter-bloc law in a nuclear age, 1 Canadian Yearbook of
International Law 40 (1963). For a larger, more comprehensive statement of the present
author’s opinions, which includes the text of a collective response, signed by eight lead-
ing Soviet jurists (among them Korovin and Kozhevnikov, but not Tunkin) on the
author’s own cited writings, and which includes also the present author’s response
thereto, see E. McWhinney, ‘Peaceful Coexistence’ and Soviet-Western International
Law. 1964, (at 127–131 for the Korovin/Kozhevnikov exchanges with the present
author).
 from coexistence to détente and cooperation173

consecrated in legal terms when embodied in UN General Assembly

Resolution 2625 (XXV) of 24 October 1970.
The Friendly Relations Resolution was the product of seven years of
labyrinthine effort in debate and discussion within the UN General
Assembly Special Committee, but it remained nevertheless peaceful
coexistence. It was increasingly accepted, thereafter, as ranking in legal
authority at the level of imperative principles, or ius cogens. It would be
repeated, as a matter of form, in the Preambles of many succeeding UN
General Assembly Resolutions dealing with Peace and Security and the
interdiction of the recourse to Armed Force in the settlement of
International Disputes. As a matter of legal drafting and styling, one
may well prefer the version offered in the official Soviet textbook on
international law, edited by Professor Kozhevnikov, which is rather
more succinct than Resolution 2625 (XXV). The Russian version man-
ages to reduce the definition of Coexistence to five principles, rather
than the seven established in the UNGA Special Committee’s some-
what more wordy, bureaucratic-style version: mutual respect for terri-
torial integrity and sovereignty; non-aggression; non-intervention;
equality and mutual advantage; and peaceful coexistence itself.11
The Russian textbook repeats, essentially, the text of the celebrated
Pancha Shila Agreement of 29 April 1954, between the People’s Republic
of China and the Republic of India in Trade and Intercourse between
the Tibetan Region of China and India, to which was annexed a Joint
Statement by Prime Minister Chou En Lai and Prime Minister Nehru
of 28 June 1954.12
The quid pro quo on the Western side for their accepting to go along,
in civil law-style, with a formal Declaration of high-level, abstract, a
priori principles, was the acceptance on the Soviet side, with rather sur-
prising alacrity at first sight, of what was perhaps best described, in
methodological terms, at the time as a “pragmatic, empirical, problem-
oriented, step-by-step approach” to resolution of East-West concrete
tension-issues. In retrospect, it should not perhaps have been so sur-
prising that the Soviet group was prepared to respond positively to this
particular form of peaceful resolution of conflicts-situations. One of

11
F. I. Kozhevnikov (ed.), International Law. A textbook for Use in Law Schools.
(Academy of Sciences of the USSR: Institute of State and Law), at 16 (1957). [The col-
lective text is published in many languages in addition to Russian; the text of the Five
Principles now quoted is from the official, English-language version of the Textbook].
12
See supra note 1.
174 edward mcwhinney

the first innovations by Premier Khrushchev, as noted, in fulfilment of

the de-Stalinisation campaign within the Soviet Union itself, had been
to lift the ban and impediments to Soviet scientists and scholars’ travel-
ling outside Russia and meeting with their Western counterparts in
international professional associations reunions, and to discuss com-
mon concerns. It was the encounter of Soviet and US top-rank scien-
tists at the International Geophysical Year meetings held in 1958 that
had brought concerted pressures from both groups, Soviet and Western,
in a rather unusual spirit of scientific cooperation and goodwill, for
preserving the Antarctic region, free from military activities or mili-
tary bases and weapon testing, and also prohibiting conducting nuclear
test explosions there or using the Antarctic territory for the disposal of
nuclear radioactive waste materials. With Premier Khrushchev and
President Eisenhower each responding positively and directly to the
informed professional opinions of their own scientists, the Antarctic
Treaty, signed in Washington on 1 December 1959, was quickly and
easily achieved.
This was the genesis of the problem-oriented approach to solution of
deemed urgent, priority issues for both East and West blocs during the
early Cold War years, even more than the Moscow Partial Test Ban
Treaty of 5 August 1963, which is more generally cited as the beginning
of the thaw in East-West relations.13 Coexistence began slowly, and
then with successive, rapid steps, to ripen into Détente and eventual
inter-systems active cooperation in nuclear and general disarmament
and a range of other matters, on a basis, always, of mutuality and reci-
procity of interests between the two great political military blocs, Soviet
and Western, and their leaders. There is no need, here, to re-capitulate
at length, the detailed series of treaties and mutual Understandings of
the 1960s and the 1970s that emerged under this sustained, continuing

13
The process of a dynamic unfolding and development of an originally high-level,
general, abstract principle represented by a basic norm, (as envisaged by Kelsen in his
Grundnorm theory) is amply demonstrated, it may be suggested, with the Peaceful
Coexistence principle in the accelerating series of Cold War Détente treaties and
accords, throughout the 1960s and continuing, with several notable gaps, in the 1970s
and early 1980s. See the international symposium discussions (involving, among oth-
ers, S. V. Molodcov, H. Blix, R. Bystricky, V. Outrata): A. Pelt (ed.), The Legal Principles
governing Friendly Relations and Cooperation among States in the spirit of the United
Nations Charter (World Federation of United Nations Associations, April 1965)
(1966). The present author’s summation, towards the programmatic conclusion of the
Détente process some years later, are set out: E. McWhinney, The International Law of
Détente: Arms Control, European Security, and East-West Cooperation (1978).
 from coexistence to détente and cooperation175

process.The Strategic Arms Limitation Talks (SALT) I and the accom-

panying ABM agreement were perhaps the most comprehensive and
far-reaching and imaginative in terms of Cold War, East-West break-
through. It is all amply covered in the secondary literature on the
International Law of Détente. With occasional, fortunately only tem-
porary and short-lived, interruptions in the momentum for change—
in the interregnum effectively existing in Washington after President
Nixon’s enforced departure under fire in 1972 which effectively killed
the even more ambitious SALT II draft Treaty, and then perhaps during
President Reagan’s first term before he had gathered the full confidence
to negotiate and conclude, easily and persuasively, with Premier
Gorbachev the IMF Treaty of 1987, it all heralded the end of the Cold
War. The fall of the Berlin Wall at the close of the same decade stands
as the historical symbol of that ending, but the work had already been
done by patient and painstaking, detailed diplomatic negotiation with
expert teams from both blocs working together with common goals
and purposes.

C. Critique of the Peaceful Coexistence “Great Debate”:

Some Lessons for the Post-Cold War World Community

1. The first and most obvious question arising from contemporary

examination, (with all the benefits of latter-day historical revisionism),
of the peaceful coexistence “great debate”, must be—“why all the fuss?”
Surely, as Professor Tunkin contended in his initial, Russian debate
with his distinguished colleague, Professor Korovin, there is nothing in
the list of five principles from the Pancha Shila Agreement of 1954
incompatible with or hostile to general (classical) International Law.
On many views—particularly those of lay (non-legal) political players
from the “new” countries outside the two great opposing blocs of the
Cold War period, the peaceful coexistence five principles amounted to
a much more succinct, conveniently accessible, and also more easily
comprehensible restatement of the United Nations Charter and its
Preamble and opening Chapter (especially Articles 2(4) and 2(7) which
had been campaigned for so vigorously by the Latin American states
present at the drafting of the UN Charter in San Francisco in the Spring
of 1945). The initial difficulties for the two rival superpowers and their
bloc leaders, as peaceful coexistence got under way in the second half
of the 1950s, had gone to issues of good faith and the ability to trust the
176 edward mcwhinney

other side, as a pre-condition to entry on negotiation that could lead on

to binding engagement in concrete, treaty form. Was valuable time for
early dialogue lost because of the excesses of the Cold War rhetoric on
both sides?
2. The key element in the eventual political breakthrough to discus-
sion and debate over Cold War conflicts-resolution was thus an open-
ing to a meaningful East-West dialogue, which might have to be made
outside the prime official UN arenas—since the Security Council and
the General Assembly, in particular in the late 1940s, had become bur-
dened by vitriolic exchanges and propaganda exhortations at the
expense of reasoned reflection. It was helpful, when the official arenas
for East-West negotiation seemed to be closed or otherwise blocked, to
achieve contact directly between specialist professional and skill groups
from both systems. The first real political breakthroughs to securing
East-West treaties, during the early Cold War years, on problems obvi-
ously common to both blocs—control of nuclear fall-out from nuclear
test explosions, de-militarisation of Antarctica and of Outer Space—
stemmed, as noted, from direct meetings between Soviet bloc and
Western block scientists and medical doctors, at international profes-
sional reunions that suddenly became opened to attendance from
across the Iron Curtain and Cold War military-security divide, to citi-
zens from both blocs. It helped, after the UN General Assembly Sixth
(Legal) Committee and the ILC, and even the (non-governmental)
Institut de Droit international, had excluded (as “too political”) plac-
ing the coexistence issue on their agenda, that the London-based
International Law Association, as a private, non-governmental group,
should decide to embrace it in 1956, as part of its continuing, priority
agenda for research and public debate. National branches of the
Association were opened or re-opened in the Soviet Union and Eastern
European countries with the promise that top jurists (often at the same
time, representatives in their national delegations to the UN General
Assembly each year, or members of the Institut de Droit international)
would attend, which, of course, they did.
3. It helped, again, that there was operational agreement, on both
sides, once the Coexistence debate was fully engaged upon, on the
necessity of de-ideologising discussion, as far as possible, and eliminat-
ing the high rhetoric and excoriations of the other side that seemed to
have become at least necessary prefatory, opening gambits to proceed-
ings in those official, UN arenas where delegates operated under offi-
cial instructions with official briefing notes. This was achieved from the
 from coexistence to détente and cooperation177

very outset of the ILA debates, and it stemmed from the high intelli-
gence and high professional standing of those immediately involved on
both sides, and an accompanying mutual respect in professional terms.
It was sustained throughout, and carried over notably to all the detailed,
highly technical, bilateral East-West negotiations within the UN or in
special East-West conferences on nuclear and general disarmament: a
successful Broadway play “A Walk in the Park” of the 1970s highlights
the high professional accord and mutual respect and an ultimate
friendship that developed between US and Soviet lead negotiators,
working together in Geneva over a period of years, in resolving all the
difficulties in the way of fundamental East-West accords like SALT I
and the ABM Agreement, and the Non-Proliferation Treaties.14
4. One should not forget that Coexistence—both UNGA Resolution
2625 (XXV) of October 24, 1970, (the Friendly Relations Declaration),
but also what we may call the Détente empirical accords (on nuclear
and general disarmament, denuclearisation, and demilitarisation of
Antarctica and Outer Space, nuclear non-proliferation and the like),
were all negotiated and adopted within a larger political framework
of the bipolar world public order system, based on the twin political-
military blocs (Soviet and Western) and their related “spheres of influ-
ence” that had emerged after the rapid collapse of the unity of purpose
of the wartime alliance against fascism so soon after the creation of the
United Nations in 1945 with its basic ‘One World’ premise and aspira-
tions for the future. Coexistence as a description at the time of a then
present actuality of World public order and as an informed prediction
for its continuance long term was always, of necessity, predicated upon
establishment and maintenance of a constructive working relationship

14
The “personality” factor, as a key variable in international negotiating processes,
since going to issues of good faith and credibility as to ability to make a concrete
follow-up on any resulting agreements, should not be underestimated. A special inter-
national conference, held in Canada in June, 1990, with the support of the Government
of Canada, brought together Canadian and Russian diplomats and jurists and schol-
ars, who had been active during the Coexistence/Détente process in common
problem-solving on Nuclear and General Disarmament, Outer Space, Terrorism,
Human Rights, Trade and Commerce, and Environmental Protection. The Russian
participants included Professor Tunkin. The ensuing publication was, by decision
of the participants, dedicated to Professor Tunkin. E. McWhinney, D. Ross, G. Tunkin.
V. S. Vereshchetin, From Coexistence to Cooperation: International Law and
Organisation in the Post-Cold War Era (1991).
And see also E. McWhinney, Ot “klassicheskovo” Mezhdunarodnogo Prava
k Sovremennomi, 1989 (6) Sovetskoe Gosudarstvo i Pravo 77–85 (1989); G. I. Tunkin,
Id. at 77.
178 edward mcwhinney

between the two bloc leaders, the Soviet Union and the United States,
involving consensus as to the priority problems that they shared in
common and also as to pragmatic solutions for them, to be arrived at
on a basis of mutuality and reciprocity of interest. In essence, in its
codified and also its empirical forms, coexistence served to help legiti-
mate, in political terms, an East-West, world balance of power that had
arrived in the post-World War II era, after the very first, most danger-
ous years of the Cold War had passed and after an effective nuclear-
weapons parity had sufficiently emerged between the two superpowers.
As a form of Pax Metternichea, however, coexistence did not, and could
not, include, automatically, the “new” Third World and developing
countries emerging in the wake of decolonisation and sovereignty and
independence on a world-wide scale for those former European colo-
nial possessions. Nor, more obviously, could coexistence encompass,
without their opting in themselves, the new Asian giants, the People’s
Republic of China and India. There was the ever-present risk of simply
sanctifying, for time future, a political and economic status quo of yes-
terday or the day before yesterday. This is not to deny that, within each
bloc, innovation and imagination, pragmatically and flexibly applied,
by lesser or supporting bloc members could help soften the rigidities of
intra-bloc relations in the direction of more truly plural or federal-style
policy-making. Yugoslavia, under Tito, as a plural-ethnic state, built
itself into a position of leadership within the Non-Aligned Countries
and the Group of 77, while managing to sustain a politically viable,
power-sharing, federal system. It could not, however, survive too long
after Tito’s passing and soon disintegrated in inter-ethnic conflict in the
War of the Yugoslav succession of the 1990s.
In West Germany, on the other hand, new political leadership under
the Kiesinger-Brandt “Grand Coalition” of the late 1960s, continued
thereafter under successor Brandt and Schmidt and Kohl administra-
tions, began looking to “normalisation” in relations between the then
West Germany and its territorial neighbours, so long as the great
divide between Eastern and Western Europe, agreed on at Yalta in early
1945 and effectively ratified after the unconditional surrender in 1945
should persist. The hihgly imaginative, pragmatic Ostpolitik, developed
by Foreign Minister Hans-Dietrich Genscher, who would serve under
all of these Chancellors, offered firm, treaty-based acceptance of stabil-
ity and security for the post-World War II territorial boundaries as a
way of obtaining reunification of families and family members sepa-
rated for a quarter century and more by the “iron curtain”, and also of
 from coexistence to détente and cooperation179

opening communications and promoting exchanges between scientists

and teachers and professional groups, with Poland and Czechoslovakia
as well as, more obviously, East Germany. The Max-Planck-Institut in
Heidelberg was at the forefront of those promoting these intellectual
openings to the East, and actively supporting and implementing them
with its own resources, in pursuit of “normalisation” between East and
West while the Cold War still lingered on.
5. The collapse of the Soviet Union itself from its integral, Cold War
era version, even as Prime Minister Gorbachev’s new thinking had
succeeded with concrete reforms and modernisation of governmental
structures and administration and introduction of free-market-
economy ideas, removed the essential bipolar element in that inter-
system balance-of-power on which the World public order system had
been effectively predicated from the late 1950s on, up to the fall of the
Berlin Wall at the end of 1980s. The brief experience of a new unipolar
world public order system, centred on the United States, saw the con-
scious by-passing of the United Nations and United Nations Charter-
based International Law for purposes of the NATO-based armed
interventions against the former Yugoslavia in 1999. That claimed legal
precedent for armed intervention, outside Chapter VII of the UN
Charter, was then sought to be applied for the invasion of Iraq in March
2003: it brought, certainly, a successful 26-day Blitzkrieg, but one fol-
lowed by seven and more years of bitter and bloody, belligerent occu-
pation by a “coalition of the willing” seemingly without credible,
politically face-serving end. It has all meant, in the result, however, an
inevitable abandonment of unilateralism, and a consequent return to
multilateral diplomacy within the United Nations and under the legal
aegis of the UN Charter. The road back, in political as well as interna-
tional law terms, has been difficult. We have not as yet come to terms
with the new multiculturalism imperative in international law and law-
making, and fundamental changes that it may necessarily presage,
going not merely to classical UN institutions like the unreformed
Security Council and the International Court of Justice, but also to key
economic and financial policy-making institutions such as the World
Bank and the International Monetary Fund, whose top executive posts
have, by custom, always been held, respectively, by US and Western
European nationals. Following the economic-financial disasters
of 2008–2009 for Wall Street and the annexed US and Western
European banking systems, the pressures of the new Asian economic
giants, China and India, in combination in the new BRIC group with
180 edward mcwhinney

emerging new powers like Brazil and, as potential new member of that
group South Africa, may serve to accelerate the demands for the major
reforms and transfers in effective World Community decision-making
powers on monetary and developmental policies that are implied by
the emergence of those significant new players not yet sufficiently
admitted to those key decision-making arenas.
6. We have not, for immediate purposes, sought to canvass the
impact of what Professor Huntington has identified as a new era of
clashing cultures or colliding civilisations, characterised, most strik-
ingly, by the rise of militant Islamism and the failure, as yet, for the
Western world to achieve even ad hoc, short-range, pragmatic political
accommodations with those new forces, let alone necessarily long-
range, larger philosophical understanding or reconciliation. That ques-
tion, and the range of possible solutions, belongs properly to new
thinking on multiculturalism as organising, representational, legal
principle for the new, plural-ethnic and plural-cultural, inclusive World
Community that we all live in today.15

15
There is agreement among surviving participants from the Coexistence debate
and dialogue and the extended law-making process that followed from it that, while
historically right for its own difficult and dangerous era now past, it may not, in itself,
be sufficiently inclusive, as to the range of participants and the range of issues selected,
to serve as paradigm-model for the contemporary World Community in the challenge
for resolution of its own distinctive, historical contradictions and conflicts. One com-
mends, in this regard, some thoughts, in particular, of two Russian participants in the
later years of the Coexistence debate: V. S. Vereshchetin, Cultural and Ideological
Pluralism and International Law: Revisited 20 Years On, in: S. Yee / J.-Y. Morin (eds.)
Multiculturalism and International Law, at 113 (2009); R. Müllerson, From E Unum
Pluribus to E Pluribus Unum in the Journey from an African Village to a Global Village,
in: Id., at 33 (2009).
The present author’s own latter-day thoughts are reflected in his trilogy of lec-
tures on General Theory of International Law, delivered in the United Nations
Audiovisual Library of International Law series, available online on the UN website:
Peaceful Coexistence and Contemporary International Law; Multiculturalism and
Contemporary International Law; The New Pluralism and International Law; http://
untreaty.un.org/cod/avl/faculty/mcwhinney.html. And see also University of Sydney,
Convocation Address (May 2010), The New Pluralism and the emerging new World
Public Order and World Economic Systems, http://www.usyd.edu.au/senate/
gradsmcwhinney.
 Customary International Law in Action:
From the International Minimum Standard
to Fair and Equitable Treatment

Francisco Orrego Vicuña

A. Historical Roots of Contemporary Issues

Since its inception in investment treaties, Fair and Equitable Treatment

has given rise to an extended and continuing debate about its meaning
and extent.1 It is not implausible to assume that in the beginning this
concept meant nothing other than reasonableness, that is, the obliga-
tion to treat investments and investors in a fair and equitable manner
as opposed to arbitrariness and bad faith. This simple meaning, how-
ever, appears to have been lost in the midst of complex legal arguments
accompanying disputes and claims.
The fact is that in many contemporaneous investment arbitrations
tribunals have been confronted with the need to determine the extent
of this standard of treatment so as to reach a conclusion about its appli-
cation to the case at issue. Prominent in this discussion has been the
question whether Fair and Equitable Treatment is any different from
the international minimum standard of treatment, supposedly embod-
ied in customary international law, or whether it is rather the result of
an evolving customary law standard.2 The view that it might be consid-
ered an autonomous standard which has a legal life of its own, separate
and distinct from that of other international standards of treatment,
has also been expounded.3
While the question may at first sight appear new, this is in reality
an old problem in international law, as old as the standards of treat-
ment themselves. Different views have traditionally been held by those

1
R. Doak Bishop / J. Crawford / W. M. Reisman, Foreign Investment Disputes,
Cases, Materials and Commentary, at 1007–1048 (2005).
2
C. McLachlan et al., International Investment Arbitration. Substantive Principles,
at 212–221 (2007).
3
UNCTAD, Fair and Equitable Treatment, at 37–42 (1999).
182 francisco orrego vicuña

willing to restrict the protection of investors, on many occasions the

host State, and those willing to expand such treatment, usually the
investors or other beneficiaries of a more protective legal framework.
The very concept of an international minimum standard of treat-
ment was born as a protective measure as compared to the more
restrictive standard of national treatment. No differently, Fair and
Equitable Treatment has on occasions been conceived as affording
protection greater than that available under the international mini-
mum standard. As international protection has increased over the dec-
ades, so too have the standards moved to new levels of treatment, but
the underlying interest in restriction or enlargement has been kept
very much alive.
This evolution is what this contribution wishes to explore in the light
of the literature and recent jurisprudential developments concerning
Fair and Equitable Treatment, particularly in light of its connections to
customary law.

B. The Need to Overcome Abuses in Diplomatic Protection

Throughout the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries international

claims were often associated with diplomatic protection, and with it the
powerful influence of States granting such protection was exercised. As
a significant number of international claims related to events in Latin
America, it would not take long for some countries in the region to
emphasize the view that claims should be resolved by national courts
and not by means of diplomatic protection and the abuses that on occa-
sions accompanied it. The “Calvo Clause” was thus born as a reaction
against what was considered to be a manifestation of political power
rather than the resort to a legal mechanism.4
In the midst of that confrontation the possibility of having claims
adjudicated by international claims commissions and tribunals gradu-
ally emerged as an alternative which would ensure that the disputes
at issue would be adjudicated under legal standards. A first balance
was thus attempted between the interests of aliens and their support-
ing governments and the interests of host States. While this bal-
anced approach did not always work satisfactorily, it was certainly an

4
F. V. García-Amador, The Changing Law of International Claims, at 52–74
(1984).
 customary international law in action183

improvement on the earlier approaches. After 1840, about sixty such

claims tribunals were established.5
It was in the context of the work of these bodies, and particularly the
Mexico-United States Claims Commission, that the concept of a mini-
mum standard of treatment of aliens was conceived so as to prevent
national treatment which could fall below such guidelines. The Neer
case, decided by that Commission in 1926, became the paramount
expression of the international minimum standard of treatment of
aliens.6
It would not take long for one view to consider that the international
minimum standard was embodied in customary international law.
Although in the 1920s State practice did not appear to show the degree
of consistency, and indeed not the necessary opinion juris, to support
that conclusion, the fact is that over time that view gained some accept-
ance in international law.

C. The Undefined Limits of the International

Minimum Standard

Which was the precise meaning and extent of the rule in question was,
however, open to interpretation. A recent article7 has convincingly
shown that the legal extent of this standard was quite carefully circum-
scribed so as to encompass treatment which might amount, as the Neer
decision put it, “to bad faith, to willful neglect of duty, or to an insuffi-
ciency of governmental action so far short of international standards
that every reasonable and impartial man would readily recognize its
insufficiency”.8 Other claims decided at that time, with particular refer-
ence to the Faulkner, Roberts and Chattin cases, have been identified as
a applying a similar standard of treatment of aliens.9 Then and today
this concept reflects eminent reasonableness.
The definition of the standard noted made quite evident that it con-
cerned situations involving due process of law, denial of justice and

5
Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law, Max Plank Institute for
Comparative Public Law and International Law, Online edition, Oxford University
Press, entry on Minimum Standards by H. Dickerson, October 2006, para. 4.
6
LFH Neer and Pauline Neer (USA) v. United Mexican States (1926), 4 RIAA 60.
7
J. Paulsson / G. Petrochilos, Neer-ly Misled?, in: ICSID Review-Foreign Investment
Law Journal 242, (2007).
8
Neer (note 6), at 61–62.
9
Paulsson / Petrochilos (note 7), at 253–257.
184 francisco orrego vicuña

physical mistreatment. Only exceptionally did it consider matters relat-

ing to business, trade or investments. Interestingly, that historical
extent of the standard was also the meaning assigned to it by the
International Court of Justice in the ELSI case, thus acquiring also a
relevant contemporary understanding. The Court in fact referred to a
threshold requiring “wilful disregard of due process of law, an act
which shocks, or at least surprises, a sense of judicial propriety”.10
A first meaning of the international minimum standard was accord-
ingly inextricably to associate this concept with due process of law. In
spite of its weak connection with customary law at the origins, in hind-
sight this aspect may be considered today as a rule of customary inter-
national law, as no State would be willing to concede that it might treat
foreign citizens, or its own citizens for that matter, in an arbitrary and
egregious manner that might shock judicial propriety.
Together with its entry into customary law, a new problem soon
emerged. As customary international law cannot by definition be fro-
zen in time and constantly evolves in the light of State practice and
opinio juris, it became necessary to establish the directions of this evo-
lution. Many different views have been put forward in this connection,
but the fact is, however, that as the international law of human rights
matured over time the rights of individuals, both aliens and nationals,
also became associated with due process of law and with it with this
particular dimension of the international minimum standard.11 Both
major conventions on human rights and principles of customary inter-
national law converged in extending this protection to individuals.
That, however, was not the only direction that customary law was
taking. A recent NAFTA arbitral award in the case of Merrill & Ring v.
Canada has offered some insights into this evolution. It was noted in
this respect that the International Law Commission significantly con-
tributed to this evolution in the context of its work on international
responsibility.12 It was pointed out in its reports that in fact the stand-
ard of international minimum treatment had been rendered obsolete
in the light of the new standards relating to human rights.13 The Asian

10
Case Concerning Elettronica Simula SpA (ELSI) (United States of America v. Italy),
ICJ Reports 1989, 15, para. 128.
11
International Law Association, Final Report of the International Committee on
Diplomatic Protection of Persons and Property (2006).
12
 Yearbook of the International Law Commission, 46 (1961-II); F. V. Garcia-
Amador, The Changing Law of International Claims, Vol. II, 784 (1984).
13
Id., at 750.
 customary international law in action185

African Legal Consultative Committee in 1961 adopted a similar view,

in that the “minimum standard of treatment” had become outmoded
and that, in the context of human rights, what now mattered was “fair
treatment” of nationals and foreigners alike.14 It should be noted that
reference was specifically made to “fair treatment”, perhaps anticipat-
ing what would some time later become the fair and equitable treat-
ment standard.
The award noted above also made reference to the relevant legal lit-
erature reflecting this evolution. While in the early part of the twenti-
eth century emphasis was placed on the international minimum
standard, with particular reference to questions of due process, the
seminal work of Borchard on diplomatic protection shows a broader
understanding, in that the standard was the result of both custom and
treaties and also included aspects of property.15 Borchard wrote in this
respect, “The establishment of the limit of rights which the state must
grant the alien is the result of the operation of custom and treaty, and is
supported by the right of protection of the alien’s national state. This
limit has been fixed along certain broad lines by treaties and interna-
tional practice. It has secured to the alien a certain minimum rights
necessary to the enjoyment of life, liberty and property, and has so con-
trolled the arbitrary action of the state”.16
It is quite likely that this particular work, published in 1915, was the
source of inspiration for Neer and other decisions that came a decade
later. If that was the case, the international minimum standard was not
as such strictly restricted to questions of due process unless the cir-
cumstances of the case so justified, as was in fact the situation affecting
Mr. Neer and his family. Because of the restrictive scope which had at
the time been attached to it the concept of an international minimum
standard was, however, repeatedly criticized in the reports of the
International Law Commission on State Responsibility in the late 1950s
and early 1960s.
Thereafter the international minimum standard was scarcely men-
tioned in the principal works concerning the codification of the law of
state responsibility, particularly the draft articles prepared by Baxter

14
Report of the Fourth Session of the Asian African Legal Consultative Committee,
in: Yearbook of the ILC, 78, at 82 (1961-II).
15
E. Borchard, The Diplomatic Protection of Citizens Abroad (1915); A. Roth,
The Minimum Standard of International Law Applied to Aliens (1949).
16
Borchard (note 15), at 39.
186 francisco orrego vicuña

and Sohn17 and, more recently, the Commentary on the Articles on

State Responsibility approved by the United Nations General Assembly
on the basis of the draft of the International Law Commission.18 The
reason is also that the content of the standard better reflected a ques-
tion of human rights than the limited extent of treatment. Sohn and
Baxter indeed explained, “It may not be out of place to mention that
the law relating to the responsibility of States for injuries to aliens is
today the one firmly established body of the customary law of peace
concerned with the protection of human rights”.19

D. Jurisprudential Evidence of a Broader Role

for the International Minimum Standard

While, as noted above, the due process content of the international

minimum standard can be considered to have entered the domain of
customary international law as an expression of human rights law, a
broader dimension has also been reflected in State practice, albeit to a
more limited extent. The widespread criticism expressed by a large
number of States in the context of their legal work in international bod-
ies, like the criticism or lack of support evidenced in the codification of
State responsibility and the pertinent legal literature, is clearly indica-
tive of the fact that there is no consistent State practice on the restric-
tive approach to narrow it down to its historical meaning. That practice
is indeed broader.
This is the logical consequence of the fact that international eco-
nomic relations became concerned with the specific question of the
treatment of aliens in relation to business, trade and investments. In
this last respect it is noticeable that the support given by many States to
the economic claims of their citizens abroad was rather generous and
certainly unrelated to conduct that could be considered in breach of
the sense of judicial propriety. This could only mean that the very
customary law standard was gradually conceived as encompassing
other interests, or at least that a new and more protective standard was

17
L. B. Sohn / R. R. Baxter, Draft Convention on the International Responsibility of
States for Injuries to Aliens, in: F. V. Garcia-Amador / L. B. Sohn / R. R. Baxter, Recent
Codification of the Law of State Responsibility for Injuries to Aliens, 156 (1974).
18
J. Crawford, The International Law Commission’s Articles on State Responsibility,
Introduction, Texts and Commentary (2002).
19
Garcia-Amador / Sohn / Baxter (note 17), Commentary to Article 2 (1), at 159.
 customary international law in action187

gaining acceptance in the practice of States. In addition, diplomatic

protection was gradually supplemented by treaties and conventions
specifically concerned with the protection of foreign investments.20
That more open attitude was already evident at the time of the Neer
decision and continued unabated thereafter. The award in Merrill &
Ring examined the record of international awards as gathered in the
digest of cases concerning state responsibility in respect of acts of leg-
islative, administrative and other state organs, published by the United
Nations Secretariat in 1964 in support of the work of the International
Law Commission.21 That examination led to the conclusion that the
liberal approach to economic claims had become entrenched in State
practice.
It would thus be difficult to justify the idea that state practice on the
international minimum standard was inextricably associated with only
some forms of outrageous treatment, since many other forms of treat-
ment revealed that even lesser questions were considered to merit dip-
lomatic protection or the resort to other mechanisms pursuing similar
ends. That digest showed that claims were espoused in connection
with the annulment of private rights. Thus, the Permanent Court of
International Justice found in Certain German Interests that “the legis-
lative measures taken by the Polish Government amounted to a virtual
annulment of the private rights which the settlers had acquired under
their contracts with the Prussian Government and which subsisted
even after the change of sovereignty”.22
The breach of concession contracts entered into by the executive,
even without legislative approval, were also capable of engaging inter-
national responsibility, even though the damages and interest awarded
were established at a lower level because of the lack of legislative
approval.23 The same holds true in respect of acquired rights under the
law in force at the time of the investment.24 The claim to entitlement to

20
International Law Commission, Draft Articles on Diplomatic Protection, Article
17 (2006).
21
Digest of the decisions of international tribunals relating to State Responsibility,
prepared by the Secretariat, in: Yearbook of the International Law Commission, Vol. II,
132 (1964).
22
Case Concerning Certain German Interests in Polish Upper Silesia (Merits),
PCIJ 1926, Series A, No. 7, at 19, Digest (note 21), No. 26; German Settlers in Poland,
PCIJ 1923, Series B., No. 6, at 19–20, 35–38, Digest (note 21), No. 27.
23
Aboilard Case, 1925, (Haiti v. France), Reports of International Arbitral Awards,
Vol. XI, 71, at 79–81, Digest (note 21), No. 28.
24
Robert E. Brown Case, 1923, (United Kingdom v. United States), Reports of
International Arbitral Awards, Vol. VI, 120, at 129–130, Digest (note 21), No. 32.
188 francisco orrego vicuña

money wrongfully withheld because of refusal to pay postal money

orders was also admitted in the understanding that “[a]lthough the
nature of contractual rights is determined by local law, the responsibil-
ity of a Government is to be determined solely by reference to interna-
tional law”.25
The payment of the value of money orders issued by a de facto gov-
ernment was held to be an obligation that the successor ought to hon-
our and that “it made no difference that this could enable aliens to
enjoy rights against Mexico which were withheld from Mexican citi-
zens under the latter’s municipal law”.26 The refusal by a Venezuelan
official, acting in his capacity as an active member of a commercial
firm, to grant the necessary clearance to enable the claimants to make
a shipment of cattle was also found to amount to an “an abuse of author-
ity” in connection with the grant of an export permit which engaged
the responsibility of the State.27 Many other questions which were far
from a due process question or personal security involving outrageous
treatment have also been recognized as protected rights.
That conclusion was also confirmed by the examination of claims
brought by many governments for settlement by agreement concern-
ing all kinds of property, rights and interests.28 The same approach can
be noted in the work of the Iran-United States Claims Tribunal.29

E. The Need to Avoid Double Standards in

Contemporary Issues of Protection

The point to note at this stage of the discussion is that the same stand-
ard cannot be interpreted to mean different things depending on who
invokes it in the protection of his/her interests. If the standard con-
cerns “outrageous” treatment in respect of due process but extended
protection in respect of economic interests when applied by stronger

25
George W. Cook Case, 1927, (Mexico v. United States), Reports of International
Arbitral Awards, Vol. IV, 213, at 214–215, Digest (note 21), No. 36.
26
Hopkins Case, 1926, (Mexico v. United States), Reports of International Arbitral
Awards, Vol. IV, 41, at 46–47, Digest (note 21), No. 43.
27
Lalanne and Ledoux Case, 1902, (France v. Venezuela), Reports of International
Arbitral Awards, Vol. X, 17, at 18, Digest (note 21), No. 47.
28
B. H. Weston et al. (eds.), International Claims: Their Settlement by Lump Sum
Agreements, 1975–1995, at 67–75 (1999).
29
R. B. Lillich / D. B. Magraw (eds.), The Iran-United States Claims Tribunal: Its
Contribution to the Law of State Responsibility (1998).
 customary international law in action189

countries claiming against weaker ones, it cannot later be interpreted

in such a way that when invoked by claimants against those strong
countries, be it in respect of due process or economic treatment, it
could refer only to “outrageous” treatment across the board. If this were
the case, the international minimum standard would be a double
standard, and quite apart from the unfairness of such interpretation it
could only mean that state practice had recognized a meaning beyond
its due process elements.
This is the very situation that has arisen in a number of recent deci-
sions and awards. The argument has been made that the standard is no
different from the international minimum standard, and hence often
associated with the Neer standard, and that no protection is due unless
some form of dramatic treatment is concerned. But this interpretation
as noted has worked in only one way. To the extent that the broader
meaning indicated is not recognized as an additional element under
customary law, the counter-argument that fair and equitable treatment
has standing of its own, allowing for instances of protection even if a
less dramatic breach has occurred, has also been made on the basis that
it is different from the international minimum standard. Again here
more extended protection means either that the rule of customary law
is different from its more limited origins or else that a new standard has
become established.
The discussion that has been unfolding in NAFTA tribunals illus-
trates the different views on the meaning of such standard. The NAFTA
agreement was quite neutral on this matter as it is limited by Article
1105(1) to the obligation to provide for the treatment of another Party’s
investors “in accordance with international law”, including fair and
equitable treatment and full protection and security. There was no ref-
erence to the connection of these standards with customary interna-
tional law, and even less with a particular interpretation of customary
law. Also NAFTA Article 1131(1) directs NAFTA tribunals to decide
the issues in dispute in accordance with “this Agreement and applica-
ble rules of international law”.

F. The Interactions of Customary Law and

Other Sources of International Law

That reference to international law, as noted by the Merrill & Ring

award could be understood only in the context of Article 38(1) of the
190 francisco orrego vicuña

Statute of the International Court of Justice, where the sources of inter-

national law are identified as international conventions, international
custom, general principles of law, and judicial decisions and the teach-
ings of the most highly qualified publicists as a subsidiary means of
determining the rules of law. The reference noted is not related to cus-
tomary international law only, but to all the sources listed in the Court’s
Statute. Very appropriately the Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public
International Law has concluded in discussing the minimum treat-
ment standard that its development “has been through customary
international law, judicial and arbitration decisions, and treaties”.30
That conclusion is important in that a tribunal requested to rule on
situations affecting the fair and equitable treatment standard cannot
have recourse to just one source of international law, namely custom-
ary international law as it is often asserted, but has to look into the vari-
ous sources available. Treaties are not always useful to the end of
clarifying the content of the standard as they will often refer to it in
very general terms, that being certainly the case with bilateral invest-
ment treaties and some multilateral conventions. However, the tribu-
nal in Tza Yap Shum duly noted the influence that the many BITs that
Peru and China have also signed and ratified “that include the commit-
ment to accord fair and equitable treatment and protection to the
investment” have in determining the extent of the standard.31
While that limited use of treaty clarification leads to a greater use of
customary international law to that effect, it is by no means the only
other relevant source. This is the case with general principles of law as
a source of international law. While it has occasionally been argued
that considerations of good faith, the prohibition of arbitrariness and
discrimination cannot be held to apply in connection with fair and
equitable treatment because they are not stand-alone obligations under
international law, or for that matter under NAFTA Article 1105(1), and
they are also not embodied in customary international law, they will
still be an expression of general principles of law,32 and hence also a
part of international law, and as such are subject to being applied by a
tribunal. To be able to rely on a secure and stable legal environment is

30
Encyclopedia (note 5), para. 6.
31
Tza Yap Shum v. Peru, Decision on Jurisdiction and Competence, 19 June 2009,
para. 202.
32
B. Cheng, General Principles of Law as Applied by International Courts and
Tribunals, at 105–160 (1953).
 customary international law in action191

also closely related to the operation of general principles of law

and could thus not be lightly discounted in the meaning of fair and
equitable treatment even if it were concluded that it is not a part of
customary law. The same holds true of the more recent requirements of
transparency.
Paramount among the additional sources a tribunal is bound to
examine in order to find the precise meaning of fair and equitable
treatment in the light of the merits of a specific case are judicial deci-
sions, one of the subsidiary sources indicated in Article 38(1) of the
Statute of the International Court of Justice noted above. While sub-
sidiary sources cannot be considered in themselves to be a source of
the law, they are a fundamental tool for the interpretation of the law
and have significantly contributed to its clarification and development.
The teaching of highly qualified publicists performs a similar role.
All such subsidiary sources contribute in one way or the other to the
clarification and identification of the content of the standard of fair and
equitable treatment.
This influence of subsidiary sources has been noticeable since the
early approaches to the international minimum standard and its devel-
opment as it was the commissions, courts or tribunals that had to make
a determination on the legal principles applicable to the claims con-
cerned. There would be no reason to exclude the role of judicial deci-
sions in the present development of the standard of fair and equitable
treatment since, as with the international minimum standard, this sub-
sidiary source has been the one that has helped the most to clarify its
contents.

G. Integrated or Autonomous Standards of Protection

NAFTA tribunals have often had to wrestle with the issue of whether
fair and equitable treatment is part of customary international law or
has a life of its own under some other source of international law.33
In Metalclad the Tribunal did not identify any specific source of inter-
national law to justify its finding about transparency being a part
of this standard, which could be indicative of an autonomous role,34

33
K. Yannaca-Small, Fair and Equitable Treatment Standard: Recent Developments,
in: A. Reinisch (ed.), Standards of Investment Protection, 111, at 113–115 (2008).
34
Metalclad Corporation v. United Mexican States, Award, 30 August 2000, para. 76.
192 francisco orrego vicuña

but the award was partly set aside precisely for this reason.35 Yet, the
content of transparency as understood in that decision is not too far
from what a standard of reasonableness would require in any event
under international law: “[t]he Tribunal understands this to include
the idea that all relevant legal requirements for the purpose of initiat-
ing, completing and successfully operating investments made, or
intended to be made, under the Agreement should be capable of being
readily known to all affected investors of another Party. There should
be no room for doubt or uncertainty on such matters”.36
A more general reference to international law in this context can also
be found in S.D. Myers where it was held that “[i]n some cases, the
breach of a rule of international law by a host Party may not be decisive
in determining that a foreign investor has been denied ‘fair and equita-
ble treatment’, but the fact that a host Party has breached a rule of inter-
national law that is specifically designed to protect investors will tend
to weigh heavily in favour of finding a breach of Article 1105”.37
These interpretations, however, were not of the like of the NAFTA
governments, perhaps just as the international minimum standard was
not of the like of some governments in Latin America in its time.38 For
this reason the Free Trade Commission Note of Interpretation of July
31, 2001 was adopted so as to link fair and equitable treatment with
customary law only and separate this standard from breaches of other
NAFTA articles or separate treaties. In particular the Note provided,
“The concepts of ‘fair and equitable treatment’ and ‘full protection and
security’ do not require treatment in addition to or beyond that which
is required by the customary international law minimum standard of
treatment of aliens”.39
A number of decisions have followed that interpretation, adding,
however, stricter requirements as to the status of fair and equitable
treatment. The UPS tribunal, for example, believed that the many
bilateral investment treaties in existence did not reflect “a general sense
of obligation” so as to qualify for opinio juris, and hence could not
be considered to contain an obligation in addition to or beyond the

35
United Mexican States v. Metalclad Corp., (2001), B. C. T. C. 664, 2001, para. 72.
36
Metalclad (note 34), para 76.
37
S.D. Myers, Inc. v. Government of Canada, Partial Award, 13 November 2000,
para. 264.
38
(FOV, NY)
39
NAFTA Free Trade Commission, Notes of Interpretation of Certain Chapter 11
Provisions, 31 July 2001, para. 2.
 customary international law in action193

international minimum standard.40 In spite of the fact that some

NAFTA tribunals have followed the FTC interpretation, mainly in
view of its binding effects under Article 1131(2), additional issues con-
cerning the meaning of the standard in the context of customary law
have been raised. One such issue concerns the question whether cus-
tomary international law has been frozen in time in respect of the
international minimum standard since the time of Neer and the other
decisions noted, or has evolved within the changing stream of interna-
tional law.
This last and more open interpretation was favoured in Mondev.41
Particularly noteworthy is the view held in that case to the effect that
“… Neer and like arbitral awards were decided in the 1920s, when the
status of the individual in international law, and the international pro-
tection of foreign investments, were far less developed than they have
since come to be. In particular, both the substantive and procedural
rights of the individual in international law have undergone consider-
able development. In the light of these developments it is unconvincing
to confine the meaning of ‘fair and equitable treatment’ and ‘full pro-
tection and security’ of foreign investments to what those terms–had
they been current at the time–might have meant in the 1920s when
applied to the physical security of an alien”.42 The tribunal then went on
to conclude, after noting the influence of more than two thousand
bilateral investment treaties providing for fair and equitable treatment,
that “[t]hose treaties largely and concordantly provide for ‘fair and
equitable’ treatment of, and for ‘full protection and security’ for, the
foreign investor and his investments. Correspondingly the investments
of investors under NAFTA are entitled, under the customary interna-
tional law which NAFTA Parties interpret Article 1105(1) to compre-
hend, to fair and equitable treatment and to full protection and
security”.43
In ADF44 a similar view was expressed to the effect that “[t]here
appears no logical necessity and no concordant state practice to sup-
port the view that the Neer formulation is automatically extendible to

40
United Parcel Service of America (“UPS”) v. Government of Canada, Award on
Jurisdiction, 22 November 2002, para. 97.
41
Mondev Int’l Ltd. v. United States, Award, 11 October 2002, paras. 116–25.
42
Id., para. 116.
43
Id., para. 125.
44
ADF Group, Inc. v. United States, Final Award, 9 January 2003, paras. 181–184,
190.
194 francisco orrego vicuña

the contemporary context of treatment of foreign investors and their

investments by a host or recipient State”.45 Waste Management II 46 and
Gami 47 adopted a similar approach.
It is not difficult to note that in spite of their formally respecting
the binding character of the FTC interpretation, in practice it has not
been uncommon for tribunals have made holes in it. This was also the
case in Merrill & Ring, where the tribunal adopted a rather open
approach to the meaning of the fair and equitable standard under cus-
tomary law, but did not agree in respect of its application to the facts of
the case.

H. Unfreezing Customary International Law

The examination of the evolution of international law since the 1920s

does not really lend support to the argument that the only changes in
customary law which may be taken into account are those intervening
after the adoption of the FTC interpretation in 2001, a situation rather
unlikely to happen in a short period of time. It should also be noted
that the FTC interpretation does not itself assign specific content to
customary law in this matter nor does it interpret such content.
The shocking and outrageous treatment originating in the Neer deci-
sion has been regularly applied by NAFTA tribunals. This was the case
of Loewen with reference to “manifest injustice”,48 or Thunderbird in
respect of “gross denial of justice or manifest arbitrariness”. In spite of
relying on a high threshold, this last case was unequivocal in holding
that “[t]he content of the minimum standard should not be rigidly
interpreted and it should reflect evolving international customary
law”.49 Denial of justice was particularly noted in Azinian in the hold-
ing that “[a] denial of justice could be pleaded if the relevant courts
refuse to entertain a suit, if they subject it to undue delay, or if they
administer justice in a seriously inadequate way… There is a fourth

45
Id., para. 181, and discussion by R. Dolzer, Fair and Equitable Treatment: A Key
Standard in Investment Treaties, 39 The International Lawyer 87, at 98–99 (2005).
46
Waste Management, Inc. v. United Mexican States (Number 2), Final Award,
30 April 2004, para. 93.
47
GAMI Investments, Inc v Mexico, Final Award, 15 November 2004, para. 95.
48
Loewen Group Inc. & Raymond L.Loewen v. United States, Final Award, 26 June
2003, para. 132.
49
International Thunderbird Gaming Corp. v. United Mexican States, Final Award of
26 January 2006, para. 194
 customary international law in action195

type of denial of justice, namely the clear and malicious misapplication

of the law”.50
In spite of noting that requirement, however, it has also been stated
that a limiting threshold cannot be imposed in the light of the NAFTA
provisions. That was the case in Pope & Talbot, where the tribunal con-
cluded that “[a]ccordingly, the Tribunal interprets Article 1105 to
require that covered investors and investments receive the benefits
of the fairness elements under ordinary standards applied in the
NAFTA countries, without any threshold limitation that the conduct
complained of be ‘egregious’, ‘outrageous’ or ‘shocking’, or otherwise
extraordinary”.51
Waste Management identified arbitrary, grossly unfair, unjust or idi-
osyncratic conduct with the result of offending “judicial propriety”.52 S.
D. Myers, before the FTC Interpretation, had also relied on unjust or
arbitrary treatment unacceptable from the international perspective.53
Following that Interpretation, as also noted in the Merrill & Ring award,
NAFTA jurisprudence appears to have hardened in respect of the
meaning of the applicable standard, as evidenced by the Glamis Gold
decision with reference to conduct which is “egregious” and “shock-
ing”.54 Although the tribunal in the latter case apparently did not close
the door on an updated interpretation of the historical standard when
stating that “[s]imilarly, this Tribunal holds that the Neer standard,
when applied with current sentiments and to modern situations, may
find shocking and egregious events not considered to reach this level in
the past”, in fact it did close the door in concluding that the Neer stand-
ard still applies today in the context of NAFTA Article 1105.55
Various forms of conduct characterized as unjust, arbitrary, unfair,
discriminatory or in violation of due process have also been identi-
fied by NAFTA tribunals as constituting a breach of fair and equita-
ble treatment, as was noted in the case of S.D. Myers and Waste
Management, even in the absence of bad faith. While transparency,
as noted above, was not retained in the end as an element of fair and

50
Azinian v. United Mexican States, 1 November 1999, para. 102.
51
Pope and Talbot v. Canada (NAFTA/UNCITRAL), Award on the Merits of Phase
2, 10 April 2001, para. 118, paras. 68–69.
52
Waste Management (note 46), para. 98.
53
S.D. Myers Inc. v Government of Canada, Partial Award, 13 November 2000, para.
263.
54
Glamis Gold Ltd. v. United States of America, Award of June 8, 2009, para. 616.
55
Id., paras. 606 and 616.
196 francisco orrego vicuña

equitable treatment, legitimate expectation has been discussed in sev-

eral cases but not actually applied in the light of the facts of the case as
decided in ADF 56 and Thunderbird.57
There can be no quarrel with that meaning of the standard, but the
issue which persists is that it is not the only meaning that should be
assigned to it in the light of State practice. When that practice is exam-
ined in relation to business, trade and investments, while not always
uniform, it has shown a consistency greater than the historical mean-
ing. In this other context, the restrictive Neer standard has been signifi-
cantly enlarged. This patently shows that the standard in question has
evolved alongside the changes intervening in international law. This
practice is sufficiently extended to justify that it reflects opinio juris.
The end result is that the standard protects against conduct which may
breach fairness and equity, as justified in the light of the facts of each
case.58

I. Fair and Equitable Treatment Is Not Alien

to Customary Law

One particular paradox of this discussion is that if the fair and equita-
ble treatment is narrowed down to the Neer standard so as to exclude
other forms of mistreatment, that same standard will have to be applied
to claims made by developed countries such as the NAFTA States con-
cerning the conduct of third States, particularly developing countries,
affecting the business, trade or investment interests of their citizens
abroad. But this as examined is far from being the case in actual prac-
tice in view of the fact that claims are espoused generously when the
interests of those citizens are involved. It was noted above that the need
to avoid double standards has become noticeable in the discussion of
the evolving law concerning the protection of aliens and investors.
Consistently with that need, the Merrill & Ring award appropriately
remarked that “[c]ustomary international law cannot be tailor made to
fit different claimants in different ways. To do so would be to counte-
nance an unacceptable double standard”.

56
ADF (note 44), para. 189.
57
Thunderbird (note 49), para. 147.
58
C. Schreuer, Fair and Equitable Treatment: Interaction with other Standards,
5 Transnational Dispute Management (2007); Dolzer (note 45); Yannaca-Small
(note 33).
 customary international law in action197

It must thus be concluded that the international minimum standard

is today broader than the due process concerns that characterized the
historical understanding, and that because the evolution of customary
international law noted that the protection granted, while being more
extended, does not exceed the framework of the customary standard.
That would be the case only if a narrow interpretation of the customary
rule were upheld. It is thus the case that the standard discussed is no
more, but no less, than what customary international law allows.
In such an interpretation there is no need to explore further the ques-
tion of fair and equitable treatment as an autonomous standard under
international law, as had become occasionally appropriate when the
restrictive view of the customary rule standard appeared to prevail.
Examining the meaning of the evolution noted in Merrill & Ring and
its effect on the question of the extent of the Neer decision, Judge
Schwebel recently concluded that in this light “Neer is far from what is
fair and equitable”.59

59
S. M. Schwebel, Is Neer far from fair and equitable?, Remarks at the International
Arbitration Club, London, 5 May 2011.
 The Role of Proportionality in Maritime
Delimitation: State of Jurisprudence

Jin-Hyun Paik

A. Proportionality in Maritime Delimitation:

the Notion and Origin

I. The Idea of Proportionality

The idea of proportionality seems always to have been a central ele-
ment in the concept of equity. As one writer has correctly stated;
“[…] from ancient times it has been consistently taught by philosophers,
moralists and, subsequently, theologians that justice does not mean
arithmetic equality but equality in ratios and proportions, and the dis-
tinction between commutative and distributive justice had accentuated
that aspect.”1
Thus the notion of proportionality appears to be implicit in the concept
of equity in maritime boundary delimitation as well.2 As the concept of
equity in delimitation is essentially geographical, in the sense that
delimitation aims at the division of geographical areas, it necessarily
follows that the notion of proportionality as governing such equity
must be based on geographical parameters.
Then the question arises what are these geographical parameters
constituting the concept of proportionality. It is well established that it
is the coast of a State which constitutes the starting point for measuring
a State’s entitlement to maritime jurisdictions and thus their delimita-
tion.3 In particular, the most critical aspect of coasts is their length and
their relative configurations or positions facing the maritime areas
concerned.4 However, a notion of ratio or proportion, which is after all

1
Reuter, Quelques reflexions sur l’equite en droit international, Revue Belge de
Droit International, at 173 (1980), quoted from ICJ Reports 1985, at 84.
2
Diss. Op. of Judge Oda, Tunisia / Libya Case, ICJ Reports 1982, at 258. See also
D. P. O’Connell, The International Law of the Sea, Vol. 2, at 724 (1984).
3
This idea is clearly reflected in the classic principle that the land dominates the sea.
4
Diss. Op. of Judge Oda (note 2), at 258.
200 jin-hyun paik

based on the concept of comparison, presupposes quantitative ele-

ments as its parameters, since only quantitative elements can be objec-
tively measured and compared. In this sense, the aspect of coastal
configuration is absorbed and reflected in the lengths of the coasts
measured in their general direction, which is a quantitative concept.
On the other hand, the ultimate concern of delimitation is the extent of
the areas to be consequently allocated. These two quantitative param-
eters, that is, the extent of maritime areas appertaining to States and the
lengths of their respective coasts measured in their general direction,
profoundly influence the intellectual perception of the state of equity in
boundary delimitation. The ratios or proportions between the two
quantitative parameters, therefore, emerge as a significant factor in
assessing the equity of delimitation.
However, this finding is valid to the extent that the concept of equity
is based on geographical circumstances. In other words, if equitable
considerations include factors other than geographical ones, it seems
doubtful that the notion of proportionality based on geographical
parameters could be regarded as properly reflecting the state of equity.
As will be seen,5 since the concept of proportionality is geographically
defined, its role as a test of equity in delimitation may be inherently
restricted.

II. The Origin of the Concept of Proportionality

The general notion of proportionality appears to have always existed as
a relevant element in the delimitation, first, of the continental shelf
and, then, of the exclusive economic zone (EEZ). In particular, this
notion emerged as an equitable method in the context of delimitation
for a large bay or a gulf which was bounded by several States. It was
suggested that perhaps the most equitable solution in such situations
should be to divide the submarine area outside territorial waters among
the contiguous States in proportion to the lengths of their coastlines.6
However, it was in the North Sea Cases that the idea of proportional-
ity was first generally elaborated.7 The International Court of Justice

5
See infra, section C (IV).
6
 F. Vallat, The Continental Shelf, 23 British Yearbook of International Law, at 333
(1946).
7
 For a detailed examination of the litigational background in which the concept of
proportionality was established in the North Sea Cases see D. M. McRae, Proportionality
and the Gulf of Maine Maritime Boundary Dispute, 19 Canadian Yearbook of
International Law, at 291–294 (1981).
 the role of proportionality in maritime delimitation201

(hereinafter the Court) included as a factor to be taken into account in

the course of negotiations:
“the element of a reasonable degree of proportionality, which a delimita-
tion carried out in accordance with equitable principles ought to bring
about between the extent of the continental shelf areas appertaining to
the coastal State and the length of its coast measured in the general direc-
tion of the coastline, account being taken for this purpose of the effects,
actual or prospective, of any other continental shelf delimitations
between adjacent States in the same region.”8
It is clear at the outset that this passage had in mind the actual case
before it, in which there were three adjacent States on the concave
coastlines. The Court found that in a situation of otherwise equality in
respect of the length of the coastlines, the effect that concavity, convex-
ity, or irregularity of the coastal features had upon the extent of the
continental shelf must be considered. Therefore, the use of any method
which gives rise to a disproportionate effect due to these factors should
be avoided. The way to do so or the legal basis justifying such a correc-
tion arises from the notion of proportionality. In this respect, the con-
cept of proportionality reflects the fundamental equitable principles
that nature must be respected; coasts which are broadly comparable
ought not to be treated differently because of a technical quirk of a
particular method.9
However, if this notion was acceptable in the context of the North
Sea Cases, it was by no means clear what would be the implications
of this passage on other cases. Since the Court’s decision is not only
concerned with the immediate case before it, but also provides a vehi-
cle for the clarification and development of international law more
generally, it is natural to seek out the general implications which may
remain valid beyond the case of immediate concern. The confusion
and controversy as to the meaning and role of proportionality begins
here.
Subsequent views on the concept and role of proportionality may be
divided into three types. The first view may be one which interprets
this concept positively, thus, regarding it as a principle or rule which
can guide delimitation. However, the international courts or tribunals
have consistently rejected this view of proportionality. The second view

8
North Sea Cases, Judgment, ICJ Reports 1969, para. 101 (D)(3)
9
Libya / Malta Case, ICJ Reports 1985, para. 56.
202 jin-hyun paik

considers proportionality as a test of equity. There are at least two dif-

ferent versions of this view. While they are alike in that they do not
consider proportionality as a guiding principle, their difference appears
to lie in its proper role and the way to apply it. One (test of dispropor-
tionality) accords a rather limited role to this concept, whereas the
other gives it a more decisive role. The third view relating to propor-
tionality is concerned with the disparities in the lengths of the coasts
and the resulting adjustment of a provisional boundary. The decisions
of international courts or tribunals have emphasized that this notion
should be clearly distinguished from proportionality as a principle or
method of delimitation. In reality, however, the distinction between the
disproportion of coastal lengths as a factor of adjustment and propor-
tionality as a method of delimitation is not always clear. This paper will
examine the three different views on the roles of proportionality and
assess their implications on maritime delimitation.

B. Proportionality as a Guiding Principle for Delimitation

The view that the notion of proportionality should play a positive role
as a guiding principle in delimitation has been put forward by several
parties concerned in international adjudications. This view was also
supported by some writers10 and by State practice.11 According to this
view, the area of continental shelf appertaining to States should be
measured in proportion to the lengths of their respective coastlines,
and a boundary line should reflect this proportionality.
However, it is not difficult to demonstrate the untenability of this
view. If the areas of continental shelf were simply to be assigned in

10
 For instance, see S. M. Rhee, Equitable Solutions to the Maritime Boundary
Dispute between the United States and Canada in the Gulf of Maine, 75 American
Journal of International Law, at 619 (1981); M. D. Blecher, Equitable Delimitation of
Continental Shelf, 73 American Journal of International Law, at 77 (1977); Collins and
Rogoff, The International Law of Maritime Boundary Delimitation, 34 Maine Law
Review, at 32–38 (1982).
11
Convention between the Government of the French Republic and the Government
of the Spanish state on the delimitation of the Continental Shelves of the Two States in
the Bay of Biscay, 29 January 1974, reprinted in Limits in the Seas, No. 83. For an analy-
sis of this agreement see Collins and Rogoff (note 10), at 48–51. Further examples can
be found in the lateral continental shelf boundary delimitation between States in the
USA: for instance, New Jersey / Delaware / Maryland Boundaries; Louisiana /
Mississippi Boundary. See J. Charney, The Delimitation of Lateral Seaward Boundaries
between States in a Domestic Context, 75 American Journal of International Law, at
55–64 (1981).
 the role of proportionality in maritime delimitation203

­ roportion to the lengths of coastlines, that would be to breach the

p
distinction between apportionment and delimitation.12 Moreover,
since the number of lines capable of producing the same proportion is
virtually limitless, this view of proportionality could not determine any
concrete line of demarcation for the delimitation of the area.13 The arbi-
trary selection of a specific line is, therefore, bound to lead to “a dis-
tributive apportionment of shares”.14
The decisions of the international courts or tribunals have been at
one in unambiguously rejecting this view. The Court of Arbitration in
1977, rejecting the French argument which invoked proportionality as
the principles and rules applicable in the delimitation of the continen-
tal shelf, took the view that proportionality was to be used as a criterion
or factor relevant in evaluating the equities of certain geographical sit-
uations, not as a general principle providing an independent source of
rights to areas of continental shelf.15 The Court in the Tunisia / Libya
Case found the concept of proportionality to be an aspect of equity,
and, on the basis of this concept, tested the result arrived at by the
application of equitable principles.16 The Chamber in the Gulf of Maine
Case remarked that the concept of proportionality “does not in itself
constitute either a criterion serving as a direct basis for a delimitation,
or a method that can be used to implement such delimitation”.17 But
rather this concept was put forward mainly “as a means of checking
whether a provisional delimitation established initially on the basis of
other criteria, and by the use of a method which has nothing to do with
that concept, can or cannot be considered satisfactory in relation to
certain geographical features and whether it is reasonable or other-
wise to correct it accordingly”.18 In the Guinea / Guinea-Bissau Case,
the arbitration tribunal pointed out that the delimitation could not
be effected by simply dividing the maritime zone equally between
the two States in proportion to the lengths of their coastlines.19 The
proper function of proportionality lies in “the assessment of factors
which enter into the equation leading to an equitable result”.20 In the

12
See D. P. O’Connell (note 2), at 724.
13
Diss. Op. of Judge Oda (note 2), at 258.
14
Channel Arbitration Case, 18 Reports of International Arbitral Awards, para. 101.
15
Id.
16
Tunisia / Libya Case (note 2), paras. 130–131.
17
Gulf of Maine Case, ICJ Reports 1984, para. 185
18
Id.
19
Guinea / Guinea Bissau Case, 25 International Legal Materials, para. 119 (1986).
20
Id., para. 118.
204 jin-hyun paik

Libya / Malta Case, the Court, rejecting the Libyan submission which
referred to the difference in the lengths of coastlines as an independent
principle and method for drawing a boundary, stated that “to use the
ratio of coastal lengths as of itself determinative of the seaward reach
and area of continental shelf proper to each Party is to go far beyond
the use of proportionality as a test of equity, and as a corrective of the
unjustifiable difference of treatment resulting from some method of
drawing the boundary line”.21 It further pointed out that “if such a use
of proportionality were right, it is difficult indeed to see what room
would be left for any other consideration, for it would be at once the
principle of entitlement to continental shelf rights and also the method
of putting that principle into operation”.22 This dictum was repeated by
the Court in subsequent adjudications including the Greenland / Jan
Mayen Case.23 As recently as in the 2009 Romania v. Ukraine Case, the
Court reaffirmed that “the purpose of delimitation is not to apportion
equal shares of the area, nor indeed proportional shares”.24 According
to the Court, “the test of disproportionality is not in itself a method of
delimitation. It is rather a means of checking whether the delimitation
line arrived at by other means needs adjustment because of a signifi-
cant disproportionaltiy in the ratios between the maritime areas which
would fall to one party or other […], and the lengths of their respective
coasts.”25
In the light of these pronouncements, it seems quite clear that pro­
portionality does not constitute a leading principle which can auto­
nomously guide delimitation,26 but a test to be applied ex post facto
to the results obtained through the appreciation of the relevant
circumstances.

C. Proportionality as a Test of Equity

Although the concept of proportionality has undoubtedly been estab-

lished as a test of equity, it is by no means clear what is the precise
meaning and role of this concept. It appears that there have been two

21
Libya / Malta Case (note 9), para. 58.
22
Id.
23
Greenland / Jan Mayen Case, Judgment, ICJ Reports 1993, para. 69.
24
Romania v. Ukraine Case, Judgment, ICJ Reports 2009, para. 110.
25
Id.
26
Sep. Op. of Judge Jimenez de Arechaga, Tunisia / Libya Case (note 2), at 138.
 the role of proportionality in maritime delimitation205

views, essentially depending on the weight accorded to the role of

proportionality.

I. Test of Disproportionality
The first view attempts to interpret the concept of proportionality
broadly without being confined by the strict requirement of the ratio
between maritime areas and the lengths of coastlines. According to this
view, what is essentially at issue is the avoidance of any significant dis-
proportionate effect arising from the use of a particular method of
tracing the course of a boundary line, rather than the achievement of a
positive proportionality between the areas and the coastlines. In this
sense, this view of proportionality emanates from the basic rule of
equity that nature must not be completely refashioned. As the Court of
Arbitration in 1977 pointed out, “the concept of proportionality merely
expresses the criterion or factor by which it may be determined whether
such a distortion results in an equitable delimitation of the continental
shelf as between the coastal States concerned”.27 The Court condensed
its view on proportionality into a brief formula that “it is disproportion
rather than any general principle of proportionality which is the rele-
vant criterion or factor”.28
The Court of Arbitration found that the particular formula of pro-
portionality expressed in 1969 was suggested in the context of the
instant geographical situation of three adjoining States situated on a
concave coast.29 Therefore, it took the view that while the factor of pro-
portionality might appear in the form of the ratio between the areas of
continental shelf to the lengths of the respective coastlines in some
cases, as in the North Sea Cases, “it may appear, and more usually does,
as a factor for determining the reasonable or unreasonable–the equita-
ble or inequitable–effects of particular geographical features or con-
figurations upon the course of an equidistance-line boundary”.30
Accordingly, the Court of Arbitration in this case undertook no calcu-
lation of proportionality, and emphasized that that was because the role

27
Channel Arbitration Case (note 14), para. 100.
28
Id., at para. 101. Hutchinson thus characterized this view as disproportionality
in contrast to the concept of proportionality based on the ratio between the area
and the coast. See D. Hutchinson, The Concept of a Natural Prolongation in the
Jurisprudence concerning Delimitation of Continental Shelf Areas, 57 British Yearbook
of International Law, at 168–169 (1985).
29
Channel Arbitration Case (note 14), para. 99.
30
Id., para. 100.
206 jin-hyun paik

of proportionality was rather to assess the distorting effects of particu-

lar geographical features and the extent of the resulting inequity.31
As a factor to be taken into account in appreciating the effects of
geographical features on the equitable or inequitable character of a
delimitation, and in particular of a delimitation by appreciation of the
equidistance method,32 the test of disproportionality can be carried out
in the process of reaching the decision, and not necessarily ex post
facto33 after reaching the decision. In short, the test of disproportional-
ity is defined loosely, but its role is basically restricted.

II. Test of Proportionality Based on the Ratio between the Area

and the Coast
On the other hand, the other view strictly stands by the text of the 1969
Judgment, and interprets the role of proportionality as the attainment
of positive similarity of treatment rather than the avoidance of marked
dissimilarity of treatment.34 According to this view, a formula sug-
gested in 1969, that is, a criterion of proportionality between the areas
of continental shelf and the lengths of coastline should be generally
applicable in delimitation. Thus delimitation is a two-stage process ini-
tially carried out in accordance with equitable principles, and the prin-
ciple of proportionality will then test a posteriori the equitableness of
the result of the initial process. In this sense, the concept of proportion-
ality constitutes the “touchstone of equitableness”,35 and its status seems
to be superior to those of other equitable criteria. This view of propor-
tionality by definition presupposes the identification of the extent of
the relevant areas and the relevant coastlines, without which the ratio
cannot be measured at all.
This notion of proportionality was first elaborated by the Court in
the Tunisia / Libya Case, and has been consistently confirmed by sub-
sequent decisions. The Court in 1982 took this view of proportionality,
and asserted the affirmative form of proportionality on the basis of pre-
cisely calculated ratios. It stated that this test of proportionality was

31
Id., para. 250.
32
Id., para. 99.
33
Joint Sp. Op., Libya / Malta Case (note 9), at 86. Hutchinson took the same view
that the test of disproportionality applied only to the result of the operation of
geographical principles, and not to the overall result of all the equitable principles. See
Hutchinson (note 25), at 182.
34
 Hutchinson (note 25), at 178.
35
Tunisia / Libya Case (note 2), para. 108.
 the role of proportionality in maritime delimitation207

“required by the fundamental principle of ensuring an equitable delim-

itation between the States concerned”.36 Thus the Court proceeded to
apply this test on the basis of calculation at the end of the Judgment.37
The Court in 1985 appeared to be of the same view.38 The Court of
Arbitration in the St Pierre and Michelon Case proceeded to calculate
the ratio between the Canadian and French coasts and that between
the maritime areas belonging to the two parties as a result of the delim-
itation, and concluded that there was no disproportion.39 The
Arbitration Tribunal in the Eritrea / Yemen Case also calculated the
ratio of coastal lengths and that of water areas, and concluded that “the
line or delimitation it has decided upon results in no disproportion”.40
While the Court in the Romania v. Ukraine Case preferred the term
“disproportionality” to “proportionality” and admitted that the meas-
urements of the ratio between the coasts and maritime areas were
approximate, given that the purpose was just to make sure there would
be no significant disproportionality, it nonetheless proceeded to calcu-
late the ratio.41 In this sense, although the Court used the term “dispro-
portionality”, what it actually did in this regard was to test the
equitableness of the overall result based on the ratio between the coasts
and the maritime areas.
If the concept of proportionality means a final test of equitableness
of the result derived from the application of equitable principles, it fol-
lows logically that the role of proportionality is more important than
that of other equitable principles, since proportionality can override
the result of their application as long as it finds the result inequitable.

III. Assessment
However, the practical difference between the concepts of proportion-
ality and disproportionality may not be as significant as it appears

36
Id., para. 103.
37
Id., paras. 130–131. For the criticisms of this see Diss. Op. of Judge Evensen,
id., at 314; Diss. Op. of Judge Gros, id., at 152.
38
 Although the Court could not make an arithmetical calculation for the test of
proportionality for several reasons including the presence of a third State, it concluded
that there was no evidence to find that the requirements of the test of proportionality
as an aspect of equity were not satisfied. See Libya / Malta Case (note 9), paras. 74–75.
39
St Pierre and Michelon Case, 31 International Legal Materials, at 1176 (1992).
40
Eritria / Yemen Arbitration, 22 Reports of International Arbitral Awards, at 373
(2006).
41
Romania v. Ukraine Case (note 24), paras. 210–216.
208 jin-hyun paik

to be. As one commentator suggested,42 if one is aiming to remedy dis-

proportionality, one may be in effect aiming to achieve proportional-
ity.43 Moreover, one cannot find disproportionality in a vacuum without
relying on relevant parameters. To decide whether particular effects are
proportionate or disproportionate is fundamentally a value judgement,
and as such it postulates the relevant criteria for the judgement. In case
of disproportionality, as of proportionality, these criteria are nothing
less than the maritime areas and the lengths of the coastlines. Whether
conscious or not, one’s perception or sense of disproportionality comes
from the disproportion of these parameters. For example, when the
Court of Arbitration in 1977 considered that a median line measured
from the base points including the Channel Islands would result in a
disproportionate effect, its findings were based on the ratio between
the comparable lengths of two States’ coastlines and the considerably
unequal shares of the areas to be divided arising from the presence of
the Channel Islands. The ratio was not accurately calculated, but, nev-
ertheless, roughly measured.
However, if the concepts of disproportionality and proportionality
can be equated to the extent that their goals essentially lie in achieving
equity based on the geographical ratio, this may be as far as they can be
equated. The difference is still there in the role of this test and in the
way of applying it. In particular, considering that the second view
accords a more decisive role to this test, its validity needs special atten-
tion. Thus, the essential question may be whether the test of propor-
tionality based on the accurate calculation of ratio is, in all cases,
required at the end of the delimitation process to check the overall
result achieved by the application of equitable principles.

IV. The Scope of Proportionality: Inherent Restrictions

Proportionality as an a posteriori test of the overall result at the final
stage of the delimitation process seems to result in the identification of
the concept of proportionality and that of equity. If equity is the goal to
be achieved in delimitation, proportionality is the ultimate method of
reaching it.44 The result arrived at by applying various equitable criteria

42
M. D. Blecher, Equitable Delimitation of Continental Shelf, 73 American Journal
of International Law, at 74 (1977).
43
In case of delimitation, it would not be a wrong statement that if disproportional-
ity is remedied, the result is in fact proportionality.
44
Diss. Op. of Judge Gros, Tunisia / Libya Case (note 2), at 152.
 the role of proportionality in maritime delimitation209

can be negated or reversed by the test of proportionality. Thus it

has a controlling role in delimitation. Due to its profound effect on the
question of delimitation, the tenability of this view needs thorough
scrutiny.

1. Restriction Arising from the Geographical Parameters

The concept of proportionality is basically a geographical one, since its
two parameters, that is, the coast and the submarine area, are concepts
which reflect spatial quantity. Thus this concept is not able to accom-
modate factors which are not related to geography. If the result reached
was primarily influenced by factors extraneous to geography, a ques-
tion arises whether such a result should be also tested on the basis of
proportionality.
In the first place, when part or the whole of a boundary line is deter-
mined by such factors as the presence of tacit agreement, acquiescence
or estoppel, or historic rights, the equitableness of such a boundary
cannot be challenged by the consideration of proportionality. The pres-
ence of these factors, the legal effect of which would be tantamount to
that of express agreement, conclusively determines a boundary, and the
outcome should not be adjusted under any equitable consideration.
This is because of the primordial status of agreement, which precedes
any other considerations in boundary delimitation.
In the Tunisia / Libya Case, the first segment of a boundary line
was delimited essentially on the basis of factors extraneous to geogra-
phy. Although the Court denied the presence of any tacit agreement
or estoppel, it chose the 26° line by taking into account “whatever indi-
cia are available of the line or lines which the Parties themselves
may have considered equitable or acted upon such”.45 The Court later
proceeded to check the result on the basis of the rather strict calcula-
tion of the area and the coastlines. However, it seems questiona-
ble whether a line delimited by reflecting the parties’ perception of
the equitable solution can be susceptible of the geographical test of
proportionality.
Secondly, when a continental shelf boundary is affected by
geological or geomorphological factors, the relevance of the test of

45
Id., para. 118. Only afterwards did the Court reinforce its conviction on this line
by stating that it is also perpendicular to the general direction of the coasts.
210 jin-hyun paik

­ roportionality is doubtful.46 A most notable example may be a situa-

p
tion where geological or geomorphological factors determine the outer
limit of the continental shelf and, consequently, affect its delimitation.47
No matter how disproportionate the result may be, it must be accepted
as such. Otherwise, it would amount to apportionment. Equitable con-
sideration cannot change the outcome resulting from the notion of legal
entitlement. In addition, in the case of adjacent States facing the vast
ocean, any difference in geomorphology48 may result in an unbalanced
division of the area which cannot be corrected by the test of propor-
tionality. These results are unavoidable, and should be accepted as such.
For there can never be a question of completely refashioning nature.

2. Difficulties in Identifying the Relevant Coasts and the Relevant Areas

The a posteriori test of proportionality based on the ratios logically pre-
supposes the identification of the relevant areas and coastlines. As a
matter of logic, in order to make a comparison, what is to be compared
with what needs to be identified. Moreover, if the subjects of compari-
son are not defined in sufficiently accurate terms, the reliability of the
comparison itself will be doubted. Therefore, the test of proportionality
as a verification of the equity of result would be meaningless in the
absence of a precise definition of the relevant coasts and the relevant
areas.49
The main difficulties in the process of identification arise from two
reasons. First, when there is a dispute to delimit maritime areas between
States the coasts relevant to the dispute are not necessarily their entire

46
Judge Shahabuddeen in the Greenland / Jan Mayen Case pointed out that the
physical implications of natural prolongation operated to limit the extent to which
the concept of proportionality could be applied. According to him, natural prolonga-
tion, in its geophysical sense, could well mean that two perfectly comparable coasts
could have unequal areas of the continental shelf. See Sep. Op. of Judge Shahabuddeen,
Greenland / Jan Mayen Case (note 23), at 164–165.
47
 Under Article 76 of the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea, the continental
shelf is defined either by the distance of 200 miles or by the complicated formula com-
bining physical characteristics of the seabed with distance or depth. Thus, physical
factors can still be relevant to delimitation where they define the outer limit of the
continental shelf.
48
 For instance, there may be a situation where one State’s continental margin
extends beyond 200 miles from the coast while the other’s does not. In this case, even
though the lengths of the two States’ coastlines are comparable, the sizes of continental
shelf to be appertained to each State must be different due to the different breadths of
their continental margins. See Diss. Op. of Judge Oda (note 2), at 259.
49
Libya / Malta Case (note 9), para. 67.
 the role of proportionality in maritime delimitation211

coasts. Thus it should be decided which coasts are relevant to the dis-
pute. The complicated geographical context in many cases may render
this process dangerously arbitrary.50 The decisions in the Gulf of Maine,
St Pierre and Michelon and Eritrea / Yemen Cases, among others, were
criticized for this reason.51 Furthermore, this difficulty may be more
germane to the identification of the relevant area. If the area of dispute
is not confined or enclosed, but widely open-ended, it would be almost
impossible to define the areas without causing controversy about the
definition’s validity.52 In the Libya / Malta Case, the Court found the a
posteriori test of proportionality on the basis of ratios inappropriate,
primarily because the geographical context was such that the way to
identify the relevant coasts and areas was so diverse that virtually any
variant could be chosen, leading to widely differing results.53
Secondly, the identification of the relevant areas can also vary greatly
according to the presence of third parties. Although the Court in 1969
mentioned that account should be taken of the effects, actual or pro-
spective, of any other delimitation between adjacent States in the same
region, one is necessarily faced with several difficult questions includ-
ing that of jurisdiction. In the Tunisia / Libya Case, the Court took the
view that for the purpose of the test of proportionality, it would be pos-
sible to define the relevant area on the basis of a hypothetical presump-
tion of other boundaries.54 According to the Court, since it is not
dealing with absolute area, but with proportions, “if it were not possi-
ble to base calculations of proportionality upon hypotheses of this
kind, it is difficult to see how any two States could agree on a bilateral
delimitation as being equitable until all the other delimitation in the
area had been effected”.55 However, the same Court in 1985 found that

50
 For instance, the way the Court in the Tunisia / Libya Case identified the relevant
coasts (para. 75) and the relevant areas (para. 130) appears to be very arbitrary. The use
of parallels and meridians cannot per se be assumed to be reasonable or equitable, and
needs justifiable reasoning. See Diss. Op. of Judge Oda (note 2), at 260.
51
Tanaka Yoshifumi, Reflections on the Concept of Proportionality in the Law of
Maritime Delimitation, 16 International Journal of Marine and Coastal Law, at 458
(2001).
52
 For the same view see L. Herman, The Court Giveth and the Court taketh away:
An Analysis of the Continental Shelf Case (Tunisia / Lybia), 33 International and
Comparative Law Quarterly, at 851–852 (1984). According to him, the concept of pro-
portionality requires the identification of an enclosed maritime space as a preliminary
step to its application.
53
Libya / Malta Case (note 9), para. 74.
54
Tunisia / Libya Case (note 2), para. 130.
55
Id.
212 jin-hyun paik

the presence of a third State made the application of the proportional-

ity calculation extremely difficult.56 Unlike in the 1982 Judgment, the
Court pointed out that the test of proportionality could not properly be
carried out on the basis of hypothetical boundaries since “future delim-
itations with third States would overthrow not only the figures for shelf
areas used as basis for calculation but also the ratios arrived at”.57
The different views of the two Judgments may be attributed to a sub-
stantial difference in the geographical contexts of the two cases. The
geographical setting of the Tunisia / Libya Case was probably one
where it was reasonably safe to assume that the future delimitation
would not seriously threaten the hypothetically defined relevant areas,
while those of the Libya / Malta Case could not enjoy such an assump-
tion. If this observation is sound, it only strengthens the proposition
that the a posteriori test of proportionality based on strict ratios can
hardly be of general use. Whether in the context of proportionality cal-
culations or of the application of equitable criteria, the hypothetical
drawing of the future boundary with the third States may be too specu-
lative to undertake. This is not only due to the difficult and complicated
task of delimiting a boundary line, but more because there is no neces-
sary parallel between delimitation by agreement and judicial delimita-
tion. In short, there seems to be no reliable basis on which to presume
future boundaries.

3. Evaluation
The above examination seems to lead to the conclusion that it is diffi-
cult to maintain that the test of proportionality as a verification of over-
all results can be generally applicable in all cases.58 The restriction on its
value comes from the fact that this concept as a geographical one
essentially does not come up to the status of the ultimate test of equity
which should reflect more diverse considerations than geographical

56
Libya / Malta Case (note 9), para. 74.
57
Id. As another difficulty the Court pointed out that since the delimitation line
indicated by the Court was restricted as a consequence of the third State’s claim, to base
proportionality calculation on a wider area would involve an artificial prolongation of
the line of delimitation. The Court found that this would be beyond the jurisdiction of
the Court, even by way of hypothesis for an assessment of the equities (italics added).
58
In his review of the concept of proportionality in case law as well as in State prac-
tice, Tanaka Yoshifumi cautions against the apparent trend of the international courts
and tribunals to enlarge the concept of proportionality geographically and function-
ally. See Tanaka Yoshifumi (note 51), at 461–463.
 the role of proportionality in maritime delimitation213

ones. In addition, the basic conditions of the test cannot be met in all
cases, and, to that extent, its value is reduced. Given this inherent limi-
tation and imprecision of the test of proportionality, its role should not
be overestimated. To go beyond its proper and possible role would
amount to nothing but proportionate apportionment. It is important to
emphasize that the concept of proportionality is not one which creates
equity, but one which should be understood and assessed within the
rule of equity. In this respect, it needs to be noted that many have taken
the view that the test of proportionality may only be applicable or
meaningful in the case of adjacent States.59 However, the relevance or
irrelevance of this test may not be simply decided on the basis of the
coastal relationship. What does matter is whether the relevant area and
coast can be reasonably defined. It is apparent that the difficulty in
applying this test in the case of opposite States is much greater than in
the case of adjacent States. But, as in the Channel Arbitration case,
when the relevant area is confined or enclosed, and thus can be reason-
ably defined, it would not be impossible to apply the test of proportion-
ality even in the case of opposite States.

D. Disparities in the Lengths of the Coasts and their

Implications on Delimitation

The next question relating to the concept of proportionality is whether

the significant disproportion in the lengths of the coastlines of the par-
ties to delimitation can be taken as a relevant circumstance or an equi-
table criterion which would justify the adjustment of an initial boundary
line. It has been stated that proportionality is a test to be applied in
order to appreciate the equity of the result, not a general principle to
guide delimitation. If the result arrived at is equitable on the basis of
this test, it will be accepted as a final solution. However, if the result is

59
D. W. Bowett, The Legal Regime of Islands in International Law, at 164 (1979).
Judge Schwebel in his dissenting opinion expressed doubt whether the test of propor-
tionality had any place in a delimitation between purely opposite States. See Libya /
Malta Case (note 9), at 184–185. For the same view see Diss. Op. of Judge Oda, id.,
at 134–135; Sep. Op. of Judge Valticos, id., at 110. On the other hand, the Court in 1985
held that there was no reason of principle why the test of proportionality should not be
employed to verify the equity of a delimitation between opposite coasts, just as well as
between adjacent coasts. See id., para. 74. The joint separate opinion took the same
view and pointed out that the Channel Islands case was clearly concerned with delimi-
tation between opposite States. See Join Sep. Op., id., at 89–90.
214 jin-hyun paik

found to be inequitable, the question of correction inevitably arises.

This means a search for a new adjusted boundary line. Whatever the
methods to be employed to this effect may be, it is this finding that an
initial boundary line does not satisfy the prospect of equity envisaged
by the test of proportionality which motivates the new delimitation
process to find an eventual equitable solution. It is only logical to con-
clude, therefore, that the finding based on the test of proportionality
after all constitutes one of the equitable criteria to guide the delimita-
tion.60 In other words, the concept of proportionality is not only a test
of the equitableness of the result but, as its logical corollary, may
become an equitable criterion in cases where the inequity of the result
is noted. It seems that to this extent the strict denial of the proportion-
ality test as a guiding criterion should be mitigated.61 This aspect of the
concept of proportionality was the subject of examination first in the
Gulf of Maine Case and then in the Libya / Malta Case. Since then, dis-
parities in coastal lengths have been consistently accepted as relevant
circumstances justifying the correction or adjustment of a boundary
line.

I. An Auxiliary Criterion of Proportionality: the Gulf of Maine Case

In the Gulf of Maine Case, a difference in length between the respective
coastlines of the parties was considered as one of the relevant circum-
stances which significantly influenced the course of a boundary line.62
The Chamber made a distinction between the concept of proportional-
ity and the concept of an auxiliary criterion of correcting the untoward
consequences of applying a main criterion on the basis of the inequali-
ties of the coastal lengths.63 Thus the Chamber emphasized that it in no
way intended to make an autonomous criterion or method of delimita-
tion out of the concept of proportionality.64 The Chamber was only

60
In practice, this process, which theoretically consists of two stages, may not neces-
sarily follow such steps, but happen at once. Thus, the joint separate opinion in 1985
stated that the comparison in the lengths of the pertinent coasts of the parties had
always been a part of the intellectual process leading to an equitable delimitation. Joint.
Sep. Op., id., at 81.
61
Thus the joint separate opinion examined the previous decisions of the interna-
tional or arbitral courts, and emphasized that in these decisions a comparison in the
lengths of coasts of the parties had been made in the process of reaching their decision,
not ex post facto. See id., at 85–88.
62
Gulf of Maine Case (note 17), paras. 157 and 218.
63
Id., para. 218.
64
Id.
 the role of proportionality in maritime delimitation215

concerned with the lengths of the parties’ coastlines, and proceeded to

calculate them and their ratio.65 On the basis of this ratio, the Chamber,
after a minor adjustment,66 shifted the second segment of the delimita-
tion line in favour of the United States, the coastline of which is longer
than that of Canada.67
At the outset, the Chamber’s notion of an auxiliary criterion looks
similar to the test of disproportionality adumbrated in the Channel
Arbitration Case. First the Chamber simply noticed a marked dispro-
portion in the lengths of the respective coastlines during the delimita-
tion process, not after the overall result had been reached. In addition,
it did not engage in calculating the proportionality between the coasts
and the areas to find the equitableness of the second segment of the
boundary line. However, these apparent similarities seemed to end
when the Chamber undertook to correct the initial line. The notion of
correction of disproportionality according to the accurate ratio of the
lengths of the coastlines was not implicit in the original concept of dis-
proportionality, the role of which was to determine rather generally the
disproportionate effect arising from the use of particular methods, not
to correct the disproportion by using the accurate ratio. Despite its dis-
claimer, one may legitimately wonder whether the Chamber’s notion of
an auxiliary criterion of the difference in lengths of the coastlines in
effect comes from the concept of proportionality. This suspicion may
be strengthened by the fact that, as far as the first two segments were
concerned, the Chamber at the final stage found the task of verification
on the basis of proportionality unnecessary since it had carried out the
delimitation already bearing in mind this consideration.68 It seems that
the Chamber, by focusing only on the aspect of the lengths of the coasts,
took pains to dissociate the concept of an auxiliary criterion from that
of proportionality. However, the former appears to be no more than
one aspect of the latter. In this sense, the Chamber appeared to attach a
more positive and affirmative role to the concept of proportionality
than in previous decisions. This approach was repeated by the Court in
the Libya / Malta Case.

65
Id., para. 221.
66
Id., para. 222.
67
Id.
68
Id., paras. 230–231. However, the Court in 1985 was of the view that the consid-
eration of a significant difference in the lengths of the coastlines and the test of propor-
tionality were not so closely identified with each other that the one would render the
other supererogatory.
216 jin-hyun paik

II. The Aspect of Proportionality as a Corrective of Inequity:

the Libya / Malta Case
The question arising from the concept of proportionality was the crux
of the debate in this case. The Court was faced with two different views
on this concept; that is, an independent principle or method for draw-
ing a boundary69 and the a posteriori test of equity which should not be
applied as an equitable criterion.70 As has been stated, the Court in this
case clearly rejected the idea of using the ratio of coastal lengths as of
itself determinative of the seaward reach and area of the continental
shelf proper to each party. According to the Court, this goes far beyond
the use of proportionality as a test of equity, and as a corrective of
the unjustifiable difference of treatment resulting from some method
of drawing the boundary line.71 However, the Court held that this did
not mean that the significant difference in length of the respective
coastlines was not an element which might be taken into account at a
certain stage in the delimitation process.72 In this respect, the Court
emphasized an important distinction “between the relevance of coastal
lengths as a pertinent circumstance for a delimitation, and use of
those lengths in assessing ratios of proportionality”.73 In the view of the
Court:
“It is however one thing to employ proportionality calculation to check a
result; it is another thing to take note, in the course of the delimitation
process, of the existence of very marked difference in coastal lengths, and
to attribute the appropriate significance to that coastal relationship, with-
out seeking to define it in quantitative terms which are only suited to the
ex post assessment of relationships of coast to area. The two operations
are neither mutually exclusive, nor so closely identified with each other
that the one would render the other supererogatory. Consideration of the
comparability or otherwise of the coastal lengths is a part of the process
of determining an equitable boundary on the basis of an initial median
line; the test of a reasonable degree of proportionality, on the other hand,
is one which can be applied to check the equitableness of any line, what-
ever the method used to arrive at that line.”74

69
Libya / Malta Case (note 9), para. 58. This position of Libya was the consequence
of the rejection of the rift-zone argument.
70
Joint Sep. Op., id., at 82.
71
Id.
72
Id.
73
Id., para. 66.
74
Id.
 the role of proportionality in maritime delimitation217

The Court then assessed the disparity between the lengths of the coasts
in broad terms. It held that if the disparity only emerged after scrupu-
lous definition and comparison of coasts, it would ex hypothesi be
unlikely to be of such an extent as to carry weight as a relevant circum-
stance.75 After it found that the disparity was so great as to justify the
adjustment of the initial median line, however, the Court took the view
that the degree of such adjustment did not depend on a mathematical
operation.76 The method of adjustment was based on the macrogeo-
graphical consideration, not on the approximate ratio measured by the
Court.77
Like the Chamber in 1984, the Court took great pains to dissociate a
criterion of difference in the lengths of the coasts from the concept of
proportionality defined as a test of equity. It is understandable, consid-
ering that the concept of proportionality has been clearly accepted as a
test of equity, not as a rule or method to guide delimitation. However,
a difference in the coastal lengths alone, no matter how significant that
difference may be, has no meaning. A simple fact cannot give rise to
any legal consequences. It could become legally significant only when
such marked factual difference is not properly reflected in delimitation.
Thus, although the Court mentioned the coastlines only and avoided
reference to the areas, it must have presumed the areas to be divided by
a median line. In other words, what essentially mattered was that the
Court was not content with the result derived from the application of a
median line from the standpoint of radically different lengths of the
respective coasts. In short, the Court saw a great disproportion between
the coastal lengths and the areas. This reasoning seems to confirm that
a criterion of different coastal lengths may be no more than one aspect
of the test of proportionality, in particular the aspect of a corrective
role. Otherwise, the correction of an initial line simply based on a dif-
ference in coastal lengths without relating to the concept of propor-
tionality would be no more than the act of some intuitive instinct.78
The Court’s finding is basically similar to the concept of an auxiliary
criterion enunciated by the Chamber in 1984, in that they regarded
the significant difference in the lengths of the coastlines as one of the

75
Id., para. 67.
76
Id., para. 68.
77
Criticizing this method, Judge Sette-Camara took the view that the Court should
have used the disproportionality in the lengths of the relevant coasts in order to adjust
the initial median line. See Sep. Op. of Judge Sette-Camara, id., at 74–75.
78
Diss. Op. of Judge Schwebel, id., at 183.
218 jin-hyun paik

relevant circumstances to be taken into account in the delimitation

process. However, they diverge on several points. First, the Court found
a strict calculation of the ratio of the respective coastlines unnecessary,
while the Chamber undertook the more or less precise calculation.
Secondly, and more importantly, the Court did not use the ratio to cor-
rect the disproportion, while the Chamber corrected the initial line
rather strictly accordingly to this ratio. Finally, the Court appeared to
take the view that the application of the test of proportionality at a later
stage in the delimitation process was required regardless of the fact that
the difference in the lengths of the coastlines was already considered in
the delimitation process, although it could not properly undertake this
operation for other reasons. On the other hand, the Chamber seemed
to be of the view that the consideration of the difference in the coastal
lengths in the delimitation process rendered the test of proportionality
unnecessary.
It seems that these differences in their approach mainly arise from
the radically different geographical settings of the two cases. In the Gulf
of Maine Case, the particular geographical context made possible the
more or less accurate calculation of the ratio. Thus, it was positively
used as a method of correction, and, consequently, the stage of a poste-
riori test was unnecessary. On the other hand, the situation in the
Libya / Malta Case made it difficult to use the concept of proportional-
ity more positively. In short, as an aspect of the test of proportionality,
the criterion of different coastal lengths has the same limitations as the
concept of proportionality, as was examined above. Although both
decisions gave an additional dimension, that is, the role of a corrective
in the delimitation process, to the concept of proportionality, which is
perfectly sound, this role should not be overstated but should be
assessed according to the given geographical settings.

III. Subsequent Cases

The international courts and tribunals in subsequent cases have been
consistent in recognizing the difference in costal lengths as a relevant
or special circumstance in delimitation. For example, the Court in the
Greenland / Jan Mayen Case held that “the difference in length of the
respective coasts of the parties are so significant that this feature must
be taken into consideration during the delimitation operation”.79

79
Greenland / Jan Mayen Case (note 23), para. 68
 the role of proportionality in maritime delimitation219

According to the Court, the disparity between the lengths of coasts

thus constituted a special circumstance within the meaning of
Article 6, para. 1, of the 1958 Convention.80 At the same time, the Court
emphasized that “taking account of the disparity of coastal lengths
does not mean a direct and mathematical application of the relation-
ship between the length of the coastal front of eastern Greenland and
that of Jan Mayen”.81 Indeed, the way the Court adjusted the initial
median line was rather arbitrary, not strictly following the ratio of the
coastal lengths of the parties. Likewise, the Court in the Cameroon v.
Nigeria Case acknowledged that “a substantial difference in the lengths
of the parties’ respective coastlines may be a factor to be taken into
consideration in order to adjust or shift the provisional delimitation
line”,82 although it found that in the circumstances there was no reason
to shift the equidistance line. In the Romania v. Ukraine Case, the Court
stressed that “there is no principle of proportionality as such which
bears on the initial establishment of the provisional equidistance line”.83
However, where disparities in the lengths of coasts were particularly
marked, the Court indicated that it might choose to treat “that fact of
geography as a relevant circumstance that would require some adjust-
ments to the provisional equidistance line”.84 After reaffirming its pre-
vious jurisprudence on this point, the Court concluded that there were
no such particularly marked disparities between the relevant coasts of
the two parties in this case.85

IV. Assessment
The above cases clarified some points relating to the significant
difference in the lengths of coasts. First, such difference is considered
as a relevant circumstance which would require the correction of an
initial boundary. Second, however, the way the initial boundary is
adjusted or shifted is not necessarily according to the ratio of the
respective coasts. Third, a clear distinction is made between the pro-
cess of adjusting the provisional boundary line by taking into
account the disproportion between the lengths of coasts as a relevant

80
Id.
81
Id., para. 69.
82
Cameroon v. Nigeria Case, ICJ Reports 2002, para. 301.
83
Romania v. Ukraine Case (note 24), para. 163.
84
Id., para. 163.
85
Id., para. 168.
220 jin-hyun paik

circumstance and the process of checking the equitableness of the

result at the final stage.
On the other hand, some questions remain unresolved. It is not clear
how many disparities in the lengths of coasts would be enough to jus-
tify an adjustment in delimitation. The courts and tribunals simply
mentioned “significant”, “marked” or “great” disparities without clari-
fying any objective criteria in this regard. The way an initial boundary
line is adjusted also remains a mystery. While the disparities are the
reason for adjustment, they do not positively guide or direct the adjust-
ment, as doing so, according to the courts and tribunals, would amount
to apportionment rather than delimitation. As a result, there is a lot of
room for the discretion of the judicial body in applying this concept.
Given these uncertainties, the disparities in the lengths of coasts appear
to be perhaps the most controversial aspect of proportionality and
require further elaboration in the future.

E. Conclusion

To recapitulate the above analysis, the highly equivocal concept of pro-

portionality may be approached as follows.
First, there is never a question of proportionality being a guiding
principle of distribution or apportionment in proportion to the lengths
of coastlines.
Second, the role of proportionality is firmly established to test the
equity of the result. Its use as a test of equity may come in two ways.
One is to test the equitableness of the use of particular methods in
broad terms (test of disproportionality), while the other is to test ex
post facto the results arrived at by the application of other methods on
the basis of precise ratios between the areas and costs.
Third, the application of the test of proportionality involves many
practical difficulties. Especially, the use of this type of proportionality
may be limited, among others, to cases where the relevant coasts and
areas can be reasonably defined or where a boundary is delimited solely
based on geographical circumstances. On the other hand, the first type,
due to the rather loose requirements of application, may be of more
frequent use.
Fourth, as a logical corollary to the concept of proportionality, dis-
parities in the lengths of coasts can be taken into account as a relevant
circumstance or an equitable criterion of a corrective of inequities in
 the role of proportionality in maritime delimitation221

the delimitation process. It has been emphasized that this role should
not be confused with the role of a guiding principle mentioned above.
Borrowing from the Chamber’s term, proportionality as an equitable
criterion is an auxiliary criterion which may be employed to adjust the
result of applying a main criterion, not an autonomous one which can
guide delimitation on its own, independently of other criteria. However,
the distinction between these two notions is not so clear in reality as in
pronouncements.
 Some Reflections on Factors Exerting Influence
on Maritime Boundary Delimitation

Stanislaw Pawlak

A. Introduction

For centuries the delimitation and protection of boundaries have

been the most important duties of States. However, States concen-
trated first of all on their land delimitations, taking less care with
adjacent maritime areas. The situation has changed in recent decades.
The delimitation of maritime boundaries has become an important
element in the practice of States.
The essence of maritime delimitation is its international character.
In the 1984 Gulf of Maine case the International Court of Justice held
that “[n]o maritime delimitation between States with opposite or adja-
cent coasts may be affected unilaterally by one of those States. Such
delimitation must be sought and effected by means of an agreement,
following negotiations conducted in good faith and with the genuine
intention of achieving a positive result”.1
This means that maritime delimitation as an international operation
must be the result of negotiations between two or more States. Some
writers even underline that “delimiting maritime zones that are not in
contact with those of another coastal state may be done unilaterally”.2
In the process of maritime delimitation one has to distinguish
between “delimitation” and “apportionment”, as the ICJ did in 1969
North Continental cases stating that “[…] the task in the present pro-
ceedings relates to delimitation and not the apportionment of the areas
concerned, or their division into converging sectors. Delimitation is a
process which involves establishing the boundaries of an area already
in place, in principle, appertaining to the coastal State and not the
determination de novo such an area.”3 Due to such distinction the

1
Delimitation of the Maritime Boundary in the Gulf of Maine Area (Canada v. United
States), ICJ Reports 1984, para. 112 (1).
2
P. J. Aasen, The Law of Maritime Delimitation and the Russian-Norwegian
Maritime Boundary Dispute, FNI Report 1/2010, 6.
3
North Sea Continental Shelf, Judgement, ICJ Reports 1969, para. 18.
224 stanislaw pawlak

process of delimitation can be influenced by a number of objective fac-

tors used by States to achieve a favourable course of their maritime
boundaries and can end with rather predictable results, while the pro-
cess of appertaining related to disputed territories assumes that the
area in question is divided between States in agreed proportions based
only on notions of equity.
For some time the determination of maritime boundaries has had
great importance. This happened for many reasons. The first is related
to the fact that since World War II the exploration and exploitation
of marine resources have grown very rapidly and, as a consequence of
that, many coastal States’ claims to areas of the sea, which under former
international customary law were considered the common property
of mankind or the property of no one, have been increasing. Also a
new factor has appeared, namely the broad development of interna-
tional law.
For a very long time the law of the sea, and in particular the law gov-
erning maritime delimitation, was regulated by customary interna-
tional law. This law was supplemented in 1958 by four Geneva
Conventions: on Continental Sea and the Contiguous Zone, on High
Seas, on Fishing and Conservation of the Living Resources of the High
Seas and on Continental Shelf. Then came the United Nations
Convention on the Law of the Sea adopted at the UN Headquarters in
New York on 30 April 1982 with 130 States voting in favour, 4 against
and 17 abstaining. The Convention, which entered into force on 16
November 1994, was a major legal and political achievement for the
international community. Not only did it codify important matters,
rules and principles which already existed, but also implied consider-
able progressive development of international law.
The current remarks on the main factors influencing the maritime
delimitation process are my token contribution to the collection of
papers on the 70th birthday of my esteemed colleague, former President
of the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, Judge Rüdiger
Wolfrum, who has contributed a lot to the development and imple-
mentation of the law of the sea.
For the purpose of further discussion it would be advisable to recall
the most important provisions of UNCLOS relating to the factors
exerting influence on maritime boundary delimitation. It is important
to underline that the Convention has established a comprehensive
framework for the regulation of the entire ocean space. The Convention
allows for the establishment of a territorial sea of up to 12 nautical
 some reflections on factors exerting influence225

miles in breadth and provides methods for determining baselines and

for distinguishing between territorial waters and internal waters. The
territorial sea is regarded as sovereign territory of the State, although
the traditional right of innocent passage of ships of all States through it
is allowed. According to Article 33 of the Convention States may also
exercise their limited control in the contiguous zone extending from
the edge of their territorial waters up to 24 nautical miles from the
baseline.
However, the most important innovation introduced by the Con­
vention was the creation of an opportunity for coastal States to estab-
lish the exclusive economic zone (EEZ) adjacent to their territorial sea
not extending beyond 200 nautical miles, from which the breadth of a
territorial sea, including the contiguous zone, is measured.
The provisions pertaining to the EEZ are the manifestation of the
balance of rights and duties of coastal States and all other States. While
coastal States have the sovereign rights in the EEZ for their economic
advantage, in particular rights over fishing and exploitation of non-
living resources as well as limited jurisdiction in order to realize those
rights, other States have the freedoms of navigation, overflight, laying
submarine cables and pipelines as well as some other freedoms com-
patible with the provisions of the Convention. These regulations elimi-
nated arbitral extensions by some coastal States of their territorial
waters in an effort to conduct and control activities which are now
regulated by the legal regime of the exclusive economic zone.
In the Convention’s framework for the regulation of all ocean space
an important place is occupied by the provisions concerning the conti-
nental shelf. The Convention in principle follows the 1958 Geneva
Convention on the Continental Shelf, but in some segments departs
from its wording, as in Articles 74(1) and 83(1) on delimitation dis-
putes. Article 76 of the Convention gives the legal definition of the con-
tinental shelf of a coastal state. The continental shelf of a coastal State
extends out to the outer edge of the continental margin but at least 200
nautical miles from the baselines of the territorial sea if the continental
margin does not stretch that far. The outer limit of a State’s continental
shelf shall not stretch beyond 350 nautical miles from the baselines, or
beyond 100 nautical miles from the 2,500 metre isobaths, which is a
line connecting the depths of the seabed at 2,500 metres.
States wishing to extend their continental shelf beyond the 200 nau-
tical mile limit have to submit information about their claim to the
Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf. The Commission
226 stanislaw pawlak

must make recommendations on matters relating to the establishment

of their continental shelf. The established limits based on these recom-
mendations are to be final and binding. Articles 77 to 81 of the
Convention define the rights of a State over its continental shelf.
A coastal State exercises control over all resources on or under its
continental shelf, living or not, but it has no control over any living
organisms above the shelf that are beyond its exclusive economic zone.
All other parts of the sea which are not included to the exclusive
economic zone, in territorial seas or internal waters of a State, or in the
archipelagic waters of an archipelagic State, constitute the high seas.
It is worth observing that if all coastal States were to make their max-
imum maritime claims permitted by UNCLOS, around 45.5 per cent of
the world’s ocean could possibly fall under some form of national juris-
diction. This means that the remaining high seas would encompass
around 55.5 per cent of world’s ocean surface.4

B. Factors that Influence Maritime Boundary

Delimitation

During the marine delimitation process States take many factors into
account in trying to influence the outcome of their claims. For many
coastal States delimitation of maritime areas is of vital importance
because of the increase in population, struggle for economic develop-
ment and opportunity created by progress in technology available for
the exploration and exploitation of mineral resources. Due to the
development of international law, States may also extend their jurisdic-
tion over much wider sea areas than previously. As a consequence,
many delimitation disputes and conflicts have become more frequent
and more complicated than previously. There are in the world hun-
dreds of borderlines between the territorial waters, continental shelves,
fishery zones or exclusive economic zones of adjacent or opposite
coastal States and many cases of delimitation are not yet decided or in
the process of negotiation. Until February 2009, around 170 maritime

4
L. Pruett, Area Calculations of the Claims and Potential Claims to Offshore
Jurisdictional Zones and High Seas, unpublished data derived from the August 2003
Edition of the Global Maritime Boundaries Database, General Dynamics, Herndon,
VA, USA, in: V. Prescott / C. Schofield (eds.), The Maritime Political Boundaries of the
World (2nd ed. 2005).
 some reflections on factors exerting influence227

boundaries had been agreed and approximately 365 maritime bounda-

ries were yet to be decided.5
The great majority of delimitation problems and disputes are resolved
by negotiation between the parties concerned. Only a very few are
resolved by decision of the International Court of Justice or other tri-
bunals. Because of that, in studying delimitation problems more atten-
tion should be given to the practice of States and their policy, having in
mind also precedents formed by international courts or tribunals.
It should be stressed that States have a lot of flexibility and can use
many factors in trying to influence the outcome of the negotiations in
favour of their rights and interests. Among them the most important
role is played by geographical, historical, political, economic, security
and environmental considerations. The International Court of Justice
in its Judgement in the North Sea Continental Shelf case in 1969 stated,
“In fact, there is no legal limit to the considerations which States may
take account for the purpose of making sure that they apply equitable
procedure […]”.6 On the other hand, delimitation in judicial settlement
is a legal process which must be based on “considerations of law”.7
In this sense there is the important distinction between delimitation
of maritime areas by the International Court of Justice and interna-
tional arbitral tribunals based on legal rules and delimitation by States
settled by negotiations in which States may invoke political considera-
tions or any other factors. The Court and arbitral tribunals are, in gen-
eral, strict in applying only relevant legal principles in the delimitation
operation. They, as a rule, interpret different considerations applicable
in maritime delimitation very narrowly, underlining that they must be
directly relevant to the case. States have more freedom in their negotia-
tions on maritime delimitation; they may use all available factors
which, in their opinion, can bring them favourable results.

I. Geographical Consideration
Geographical considerations in the practice of States are the main fac-
tors taken into account when negotiating and concluding maritime

5
I. M. Andi Arsana / Y. Sumaryo, Geospatial Aspects of Maritime Boundary
Delimitation in the Singapore Strait involving Indonesia, Malaysia and Singapore,
Report FIG Congress 2010 Facing the Challenges–Building the Capacity, Sydney,
Australia, 11–16 April 2010, at 5.
6
North Sea Continental Shelf, supra note 3, at 50, para. 93.
7
Id., at 20, para. 14.
228 stanislaw pawlak

boundary delimitation agreements. The other considerations such

as economic, political or historical ones, though very important, are
often used to support the geographical ones. Also geographical fac-
tors play a decisive role in the decisions of the ICJ and arbitral
tribunals.
The geographical factors are elements of nature and, as the ICJ
stressed in the Gulf of Maine case, “[…] the facts of geography are not
the product of human action amenable to positive or negative judge-
ment, but the result of natural phenomena, so they can only be taken as
they are […]”.8
Among such geographical factors there are some of more general
character for the relevant area and others which are particularly impor-
tant to the maritime delimitation in question. The first group includes
elements such as general characteristics of the region, configuration of
the coast, the presence of ports, roadsteads, river mouths, bays, low-
tide elevations, the presence of islands and rocks. However, the princi-
pal elements for the delimitation process are linked with coastal fronts
and the physical configuration of coasts. Coastal geography is regarded
as a leading factor in maritime delimitation.9 It does not mean that the
delimitation process depends only on the configuration of the coast
and is an objective operation. States in their practice adopt a number of
interpretations and positions on the direction of the coastline and any
changes in its direction. Regular or irregular indentation of the coast,
the adjacent or opposite situation of the coast and other relevant geo-
graphical considerations are taken into account during the maritime
delimitation process.
Geographical factors determine that the majority of cases of mari-
time delimitation concern adjacency or oppositeness. In both situa-
tions most often the equidistance method is applied. The practice of
States and international jurisprudence prove that the equidistance
method is more effective in the case of opposite coasts. Applying this
method to adjacent coasts can sometimes create inequitable results, for
example, due to the irregularity of the coastline or the presence of
islands. The delimitation of the continental shelf between the United
Kingdom and Ireland in1988 and in some other cases shows that the

8
Delimitation of the Maritime Boundary in the Gulf of Maine Area (Canada v. United
States), supra note 1, at 271, para. 37.
9
P. Weil, Geographical Considerations in Maritime Delimitation, in: J. I. Charney /
L. M. Alexander (eds.), International Maritime Boundaries, Vol. I, at 115 (1993).
 some reflections on factors exerting influence229

equidistance method can also be applied in mixed oppositeness and

adjacency situations.10
In some cases, mainly in adjacent coasts, when the direction of the
coast is relevant the method of perpendicularity or a simplified form of
equidistance is used. In maritime boundary delimitation the compara-
tive length of the relevant coastlines is also one of the most important
factors for applying proportionality based on an equitable approach.
The practice of States shows that the base points used to delimit mar-
itime areas between two States do not always coincide with the base
points and straight baselines for measuring the breadth of the territo-
rial seas established by the States themselves. In some cases States do
not recognize the baseline of the other State. Such was the situation
when the delimitation between the United States of America and Cuba
was negotiated. The parties concerned have reached a compromise
solution based on the mutual recognition of relevant base points of the
other State’s coast.
When dealing with islands and rocks in establishing delimitation
lines States encounter many difficulties. Article 121 paragraph 2 of the
1982 Convention entitles islands to have territorial waters, contiguous
zones and continental shelves just as they are applicable to other land
territories. Paragraph 3 of that Article accords rocks only territorial
waters round them. The States’ practice shows that in the maritime
delimitation agreements in accordance with a specific maritime delim-
itation situation islands can be accorded full effect in line with the LOS
Convention, or only a partial effect, or they may even be ignored.
In all cases different factors are taken into consideration. States may
decide whether the delimitation involves only islands, islands next to
mainland coasts, or whether the islands are the only unit of entitle-
ment, or are entitled in conjunction with the mainland territory of the
same State.
Usually island States in a case of delimitation between them accord
islands access to all sea zones as was done in the 1999 agreement
between Sao Tome and Principe and Equatorial Guinea. Many other
States follow the same approach, giving the islands full weight as against
mainland coasts. Such attitude is reflected, for example, in the treaties
between Sri Lanka and India of 1974 and 1976, and between Denmark
and Norway on the Faroe Islands of 1979.

10
United Nations, Handbook on the Delimitation of Maritime Boundaries, at 28
and 58, para. 140 and para. 226 (2000).
230 stanislaw pawlak

The delimitation agreement between Australia and Papua New

Guinea of 1978 shows that the parties adopted a different solution.
Some small Australian islands lying within 3 or 4 miles of the coast of
Papua New Guinea were accorded a much reduced effect.
Similarly, the ICJ in the decision concerning the Gulf of Maine case
between Canada and the USA awarded only half-effect to Seal and
Mud Islands.11
The effect of concavity is also an important factor in some maritime
boundary delimitations. A good example is the effect of negotiation
between Dominica and France (in relation to Martinique and
Guadeloupe) during which France agreed not to insist on applying the
equidistance method of delimitation and to apply the equitable princi-
ple as proposed by Dominica. In the end Dominica achieved the full
exclusive economic zone of 200 nautical miles envisaged by UNCLOS.
In some cases the effect of islands is diminishing because States use
methods other than equidistance for drawing the delimitation line.
This approach was applied in agreements between Kenya and Tanzania
in 1975 and 1976, and Argentina and Chile in 1978.

II. Geology and Geomorphology

In the practice of States only in a limited number of cases are geological
and geomorphological factors taken into consideration. They are
related to the concept of natural prolongation in cases on continental
shelf areas. In this regard the geomorphology definition of the conti-
nental shelf had been considered during the negotiation of the
Agreement between Australia and Indonesia in 1972 on the continen-
tal shelf between Timor and Australia. It is important to note that in
the 1985 Libya v. Malta case the ICJ underlined the importance of the
200 nautical mile limit of the continental shelf as set out in Article 76 of
UNCLOS and stated that “[…] there is no reason to ascribe any role to
geological or geophysical factors within that distance either verifying
the legal title of the States concerned or proceeding to a delimitation
between their claims”.12
According to some studies geological and geomorphological consid-
erations do not play a role in the maritime delimitation agreements

11
Delimitation of the Maritime Boundary in the Gulf of Maine Area (Canada v.
United States), supra note 1, at 336.
12
Continental Shelf (Lybian Arab Jamahiriya v. Malta), ICJ Reports 1985, para. 39.
 some reflections on factors exerting influence231

relating to the Black Sea area, the Baltic Sea region or the Mediterranean
Sea region.13

III. Economic and Social Considerations

In addition to geographical and geophysical factors States place great
importance on the location of resources in the areas to be delimited.
The main interest of States regarding the delimitation of maritime areas
beyond the territorial sea is related to the economic benefits to be
derived from the exploitation of living and not-living resources in
those areas. In particular, the quest for oil and gas deposits and fisher-
ies stands behind the negotiation and conclusion of many maritime
delimitation agreements. Those deposits may affect the delimitation
process either directly influencing the course of the adopted delimita-
tion line or as an object of geographical or other factors which would
help in adopting the delimitation line.
Many agreements on the delimitation of maritime boundaries con-
tain provisions on the division and exploitation of natural resources.
States include special clauses reflecting their interests. The “resource
deposit clauses” of those agreements impose an obligation on parties to
cooperate in the exploitation of non-living mineral resources when
deposits extended beyond the State’s delimitation line. Such resource
deposit clauses were included for the first time in the 1965 Agreement
between the United Kingdom and Norway.
Cooperation between the parties to the maritime delimitation agree-
ments could be accomplished by joint cooperation in the exploration
and exploitation of minerals deposited across their maritime bounda-
ries or in the overlapping zones. This system sometimes requires the
inclusion of owners of licences or concessions for the exploration and
exploitation of minerals in the bordering areas in the process of
cooperation.
In some cases due to difficulties in reaching a final agreement on
the delimitation of maritime boundaries, States decide to conclude
“transitory agreements” which allow them to explore and exploit min-
eral resources jointly on the basis of a “joint development” system.
For example, in June 2008 the People’s Republic of China and Japan,
after many rounds of negotiations, reached an agreement regarding

13
J. I. Charney / L. M. Alexander, International Maritime Boundaries, Vol. II, at
1561, 1853 (1993).
232 stanislaw pawlak

development in the East China Sea and turning it into the sea of peace
and friendship. The agreement envisages, among other things, the pos-
sibility that a Japanese legal person may participate in the development
of the Chunxiao Oil and Gas Field in accordance with Chinese law.14
Joint development of a management zone may result in overcoming
conflicts and may facilitate agreement on delimitation between States.
For example, in the 1969 agreement between Abu Dhabi and Qatar the
parties decided to share equally revenues from an oil field which was to
be under Abu Dhabi’s jurisdiction. A similar solution was incorporated
into the 1958 agreement between Bahrain and Saudi Arabia. The par-
ties decided that although a specific area was under the sovereign rule
of Saudi Arabia, half of the net revenues from the exploitation of the
resources from that area were to be given to Bahrain.15
Also in the ASEAN region States have in some areas of overlapping
claims established a system of joint development and exploration of
these areas and ensure profit sharing without settling the issue of sov-
ereignty over the area. Similar agreements were signed for the Gulf of
Thailand, for the Malaysia-Thailand and Malaysia-Vietnam Joint
Development Areas.16
It should be noted that the ICJ judgments hitherto have not consid-
ered relevant to the drawing of the delimitation line the importance,
existence, exploitation or location of mineral resources. In the 1985
Guinea v. Guinea-Bissau dispute the Arbitral Tribunal also did not
regard economic factors as relevant because delimitation cannot be
based on “evaluation of data which changes in relation to factors that
are sometimes uncertain”.17 It further stated that it “[…] does not have
a power to compensate for the economic inequalities of the States con-
cerned by modifying a delimitation which it considers is called for by
objective and certain considerations”.18
On the other hand, the social and human impact as well as the
impact of maritime natural resources on the maritime delimitation
process cannot be ignored. In delimitation settlements today and in the

14
Zou Keyuan, China and Maritime Boundary Delimitation, available at http://
www.nguyenhongthao.info/2009/08/china-and-maritime-boundary.html, at 17.
15
S. P. Jagota, Maritime Boundary, at 76–77 (1985).
16
 E. Kreil, South China Sea (March 2006), available at http://www.eia.doe.gov/cabs/
South_China_Sea/pdf.pdf.
17
Case concerning the delimitation of the maritime boundary between Guinea and
Guinea-Bissau, Decision of 14 February 1985, 19 United Nations Reports of
International Arbitral Awards (UNRIAA) 149, at 193, para. 122.
18
Id., para. 123.
 some reflections on factors exerting influence233

future, States have at their disposal many means which may facilitate
these concerns unrelated to the delimitation procedures. They may
address on their own merits actions dealing, for example, with fisheries
or any other socio-economic problems apart from the maritime delim-
itation process. At the same time, however, they always have to take
into consideration the expectations and needs of their populations.
It would also be strange if the ICJ or other international court and tri-
bunal in decisions in maritime delimitation disputes were completely
to ignore the human and economic needs of the pleading States.
In any case, these decisions are expected to lead to the achievement
of an equitable solution on a maritime delimitation in accordance with
Articles 74(1) and 83(1) of UNCLOS. This means that they should take
into consideration all important equitable factors, including human,
social and economic ones.
The practice of States in the Caribbean region gives ample evidence
that economic factors have played an important role in some cases on
boundary delimitation, for example in the Trinidad and Tobago-
Venezuela Agreement of 1990, the Jamaica-Columbia 1994 Agreement
and the United Kingdom (Cayman Islands)-Honduras Agreement
of 2001.

IV. Fisheries
The importance of fisheries resources for many States has played a sig-
nificant role in delimitation negotiations, and in some cases as an ele-
ment agreed to before or after the maritime boundary delimitation or
as a measure undertaken pending the outcome of a settlement.19 The
United States of America and Mexico, for example, supplemented their
maritime delimitation Agreement of 1976 with a separate agreement
on fisheries.
In some cases relating to the exploitation of mineral resources
States introduce joint fishing schemes for common fishery zones strad-
dling their delimitation boundaries. Such agreements were concluded,
for instance, between the Dominican Republic and Columbia in 1978,
Sweden and the USSR in 1988 and France and Italy in 1986. The
joint fisheries zone is also a solution to the absence of agreement on

19
B. Kwiatkowska, Economic and Environmental Considerations in Maritime
Boundary Delimitations, in: J. I. Charney / J. M. Alexander (eds.), International
Maritime Boundaries, Vol. II, at 81 (1993).
234 stanislaw pawlak

delimitation line. The 1999 Agreement between the United Kingdom

and Denmark which resolved a long lasting marine dispute over the
Faroe Islands area is a good example.
Moreover, traditional fisheries in some parts of the world create
problems for the coastal States in their negotiations concerning estab-
lishing maritime delimitations. To avoid conflicts with fishing commu-
nities States usually guarantee access to fisheries on both sides of the
delimitation line. Such solution was used in the 1974 Agreement
between India and Sri Lanka.

V. Navigation
The requirements of navigational needs in some cases are directly
applied as circumstances relevant to determining the delimitation line.
This situation occurs especially in territorial waters delimitation. There
is a procedure whereby States considering navigation to be a special
circumstance and not being fully satisfied with the general law of the
sea’s ability to guarantee the free passage of ships to their ports through
the territorial seas of adjacent States tend to modify an equidistance
line. In such cases the delimitation line is usually adjusted in order to
take into account a specific physical situation, such as the existing navi-
gational channels, roadsteads and traditional approaches to ports.
To avoid conflicts and incidents States tend to modify the delimita-
tion line in such a way that the navigational routes to and from the
ports of each country pass through the territorial sea of the State to
which the ports belong. Such regulation was adopted, for example, in
the 1975 Agreement between Italy and Yugoslavia. A similar approach
was applied in the 1973 Agreement between Indonesia and Singapore
reflecting the interests of both parties.
On the basis of similar considerations Poland and the German
Democratic Republic (GDR) in 1989 concluded the Maritime Boundary
Agreement on the Delimitation of the Maritime Areas in the Bay of
Pomerania. The Agreement, which takes into account considerations
of both parties as well as the specific situation in Pomerania Bay, guar-
antees free access for all ships to the Polish ports of Swinoujscie and
Szczecin. As Judge Rüdiger Wolfrum points out, this Agreement
became binding upon Germany after unification. It should be added
that the binding force of the 1989 Agreement on the Delimitation of
the Maritime Areas in the Bay of Pomerania was confirmed by the
Treaty of 14 November 1990 between Poland and the Federal Republic
 some reflections on factors exerting influence235

of Germany on the Confirmation of the Existing Frontier between

Them.
The Agreement of 1989 was reached after more than four years of
intensive negotiations and several incidents which happened after the
GDR in 1984 extended its territorial sea from 3 to 12 nautical miles. As
a result of this extension the western and northern approaches to the
Polish ports of Swinoujscie and Szczecin and deep mooring No. 3 built
and maintained by Poland came under the sovereignty of the German
Democratic Republic. Poland could not accept the restrictive naviga-
tional regulations of the GDR and demanded free passage between
these ports and the high seas as it had been before the extension of the
GDR’s territorial sea.
The Agreement of 1989 establishes a delimitation line between the
two States covering the territorial sea, fishery zone and continental
shelf and supersedes all previous maritime boundaries concerning the
Bay of Pomerania.20 Article 5 of the Agreement states that “[t]he north-
ern approaches to the ports of Szczecin and Swinoujscie on their whole
distance and the roadsteads are situated either in the territorial waters
of the Polish People’s Republic or on the open seas. The part of the
northern approaches which runs eastward from the outer limit of the
territorial waters of the German Democratic Republic established by
Art. 3, as well as the roadstead No.3, are neither part of the continental
shelf, nor of the fishery zone of the German Democratic Republic nor
of its future exclusive economic zone.”21
The corridor created by this Agreement, which extends over the
northern approaches and relevant roadsteads, cannot be regarded oth-
erwise than as part of the Polish territorial sea because, by virtue of
Article 5, this area came under the sovereignty of Poland. Only the
limited northern part of the corridor could be regarded as high seas,
though that was not clearly stated in the Article. The 1989 Agreement
does not change the legal status of the western approach to the ports in
Szczecin and Swinoujscie. Ships using that channel to and from those
ports have to pass through the German territorial sea. The German
Democratic Republic agreed that such passage of Polish merchant, war
and State ships does not require prior permission.

20
Dziennik Ustaw. Nr 43, 20 July 1989, poz. 233, at 651–654.
21
Based on the English translation provided by R. Wolfrum in: Germany and
the Law of the Sea, published in: T. Treves / L. Pineschi (eds.), The law of the sea: the
European Union and its Member States, at 212 (1997).
236 stanislaw pawlak

In the 1989 Agreement Poland compensated the German Democratic

Republic for its partial withdrawal from the extended territorial waters
with part of her continental shelf and fishery zone eastward from the
corridor.22
As was rightly observed by David Colson in his comments on the
legal nature of this agreement, “in this case the parties delimited a new
maritime boundary different from the continental shelf boundary
established in 1968. It would appear that the extension of the territorial
seas of both states to 12–n.m. created a new situation which led to the
compromise. In the 1989 agreement, Poland was given the advantage
of an expanded territorial sea area so as to secure Polish navigational
interests, while the GDR received Polish concessions in the outer fish-
ing zones and continental shelf areas. This appears to be the only
boundary situation where it can be seen clearly that the evolution of
the law of the sea resulted in a re-evaluation by the parties of their
interests, and based upon that re-evaluation they reached agreement
on a new boundary line”.23
A similar solution to adjust the maritime boundary by taking into
account “the habitually used navigable track” was adopted in the 1984
Agreement between Argentina and Chile relating to the dispute con-
cerning the Beagle Channel.24

VI. Environment
The practice of States shows that ecological factors, though very impor-
tant, do not exert great influence on the drawing of the direction of
maritime boundaries. States seldom use these factors as arguments in
litigation, and the ICJ is also reluctant to accept ecological argument.
When, for example, in the Gulf of Maine case the United States of
America attempted to demonstrate the existence of a natural boundary
between Brown’s Bank and Georges Bank, presenting the substantial
number of ecological factors as a basis for the drawing of the delimita-
tion line of the exclusive economic zone or the fishery zone, the

22
See Article 4 of the Agreement.
23
D. Colson, The Legal Regime of Maritime Boundary Agreements, in:
J. I. Charey / L. M. Alexander (eds.), International Maritime Boundaries, Vol. 1, at 48
(1993).
24
Case concerning a dispute between Argentina and Chile concerning the Beagel
Channel, Report and Decision of the Court of Arbitration (18 February 1977), 21
UNRIAA 53, at 166, para. 110.
 some reflections on factors exerting influence237

Chamber of the Court did not accept these arguments and based its
decision mainly on geographic factors.25

VII. Political Security and Historical Factors

While reviewing maritime delimitation agreements it is not easy to
indicate the role played by political factors, though it is obvious that
the conclusion of such agreements is a political act. States, while nego-
tiating and concluding agreements on the delimitation of maritime
boundaries, can be motivated by their overall foreign policy objectives,
good-neighbourliness, national security or dispute avoidance and
other political considerations. They do not very often reveal publicly
their reasons for concluding agreements, including agreements on
maritime delimitation. There are many factors which play a role in the
process of negotiation and adoption of maritime delimitation agree-
ments. Therefore, it is not easy to isolate political considerations from
other factors based e.g. on geography or the will of the parties to reach
an equitable agreement.
The 2000 Agreement between the People’s Republic of China and
Vietnam provides a good example of the role played by political fac-
tors. Both States after many years of protracted negotiations on 25
December 2000 signed the Agreement on the Delimitation of the
Territorial Seas, Exclusive Economic Zones and Continental Shelves in
the Gulf of Tonkin (Beibu Gulf in Chinese and Bac Bo Gulf in
Vietnamese). The Agreement, which entered into force on 30 June
2004, established a single line to delimit territorial seas, exclusive eco-
nomic zones and continental shelves between the two States. Vietnam
obtained 53.23 per cent while China got 46.77 per cent of the whole
delimited area in the Gulf. The difference in favour of Vietnam is due
to the consideration that the Vietnamese coastline is longer than the
Chinese and Vietnam has more islands in the Gulf.26
In the context of this Agreement it is interesting to note that the
substantive negotiations started in 1992 after normalization of the
political relations between the two States, and that in 1993 the two
sides reached a general agreement on the basic principles of settling
disputes relating to the land border and the delimitation of the Gulf

25
Delimitation of the Maritime Boundary in the Gulf of Maine Area (Canada v.
United States), supra note 1, at 277, para. 56.
26
Keyuan (note 14), at 12.
238 stanislaw pawlak

of Tonkin. They agreed to carry out negotiations on the delimitation

of the Gulf of Tonkin applying the international law of the sea and
international practice “in line with the principle of equality, taking
into consideration all circumstances concerned in the Gulf of Tonkin”.27
It is worth noting that there are no known maritime delimitation
agreements which specifically refer to security concerns. In the prac-
tice of States security concerns are even more difficult to trace then
political ones.
At this stage of international relations it is evident that security
concerns involve not only military considerations, but also access to
resources (especially to oil and gas), navigation, the environment and
other elements. States are trying to secure their economic interests,
transportation lines, to access to their ports, territorial and internal
waters.
In the case before the International Court of Justice concerning the
dispute between the Libyan Arab Jamahiriya and Malta on the
Continental Shelf as well as at the arbitral tribunal in the Guinea v.
Guinea Bissau case, the pleading States invoked proximity of the delim-
itation line to their coasts as an important factor exerting influence on
their security.
The Court firmly stated that the delimitation line resulting from the
Judgment was “not so near to the coast of either Party as to make ques-
tion of security a particular consideration in the present case”.28
The arbitral tribunal in the Guinea v. Guinea Bissau case used similar
arguments: “[…] the Tribunal, in the solution adopted, has ensured
that each State controls the maritime territories situated opposite its
coasts and in their vicinity. This preoccupation constantly guided the
Tribunal in its search for an equitable solution. Its primary objective
was to avoid one of the Parties, for any reason, seeing rights being
exerted opposite its coasts and in their immediate vicinity, which could
prejudice its right to development or jeopardize its security.”29
In some cases the historic borders and other historic factors relating
to traditional approaches to ports of adjacent States, such as access to
traditional fisheries zones, can also play a significant role in the settle-
ment of maritime boundary delimitation.

27
Id., at 11.
28
Continental Shelf (Lybian Arab Jamahiriya v. Malta), supra note 12, at 42, para. 51.
29
Case concerning the delimitation of the maritime boundary between Guinea and
Guinea-Bissau, supra note 17, at 194, para. 124.
 some reflections on factors exerting influence239

VIII. The Rights of the Third States

Considering the geographical location of coastal States in the world
and the configuration of their coasts, overlapping claims of maritime
zones among coastal States cannot be avoided. Because of that, though
maritime boundary delimitation negotiations and settlements usu-
ally involve only two parties, special attention is normally given to the
presence of the coasts of third States and of the existence of already
concluded agreements on boundaries in the area.
It is interesting to observe that the ICJ in its judgments has always
preserved the rights of the third States. In the 1985 judgment in the
Continental Shelf case between the Libyan Arab Jamahiriya and Malta
it stated, “The limits within which the Court, in order to preserve the
rights of third States, will confine its decision in the present case, may
this be defined in terms of the claims of Italy […]”.30
The practice of States allows one to distinguish a few types of
treatment given to third States in maritime delimitation agreements.
In some cases, the position and interests of a third State concerning
the delimitation was not taken into account. The best example is the
delimitation Agreement between Italy and Tunisia where Malta’s inter-
ests were ignored.
Some parties to an agreement on maritime delimitation recognize
the presence of a third State and decide to take into account the
position of that State, as happened with the interests of the Bahamas
taken into account in the Agreement between Cuba and the United
States of America of 1977. There are some other examples: in the 1974
Agreement between Italy and Spain where the parties agreed to stop
the delimitation line short of an equidistant point with a third State;
Denmark and Norway, while negotiating the delimitation agreement
in 1995, decided to invite Iceland to take part in order to avoid disputes
with her.
The practice of States shows that it is also possible to negotiate
and conclude an agreement by more than two States on maritime
delimitation boundaries. The tripartite Agreement between Poland,
Sweden and the USSR of 1989 and the 1976 tripartite Agreement
between India, Sri Lanka and the Maldives constitute very good
examples.

30
Continental Shelf (Lybian Arab Jamahiriya v. Malta), supra note 12, at 26 and 28,
paras. 22–23.
240 stanislaw pawlak

C. Concluding Observations

As was mentioned earlier, according to some estimates there are still

around 365 maritime boundaries in the world which are yet to be set-
tled, and only around 170 maritime boundaries had been agreed by
February 2009. This situation demonstrates the magnitude of the prob-
lems which have to be solved. Most cases will be resolved at the confer-
ence table by the States concerned, but some of them will wait for a
solution to be imposed by third parties or international judicial organs.
That is why it is interesting to review the factors used by States during
negotiations and pleadings in delimitation cases to achieve their goals.
A good set of examples comes from the Caribbean Sea area. In that
region the independent Member States of CARECOM have so far
entered into eight maritime boundary delimitation treaties. The
Associated Members have had five treaties concluded on their behalf
by the United Kingdom. The dependent Member State of Montserrat,
through the Government of the United Kingdom, concluded a mari-
time boundary treaty with France relating to Guadeloupe in 1996.31
Different considerations were taken into account in each of those
agreements. The Haiti-Cuba delimitations of maritime boundary
agreement, which entered into force in 1978 as one of the earliest mari-
time boundary delimitation treaties in the Caribbean Sea, being based
on the principles of equidistance and equity, had an effect on later
agreements concluded in the area. The boundary line of this agreement
defines the limits of the EEZ and the Continental Shelf between the two
countries. It also provides for cooperation between them with respect
to the exploration, exploitation, conservation and administration of
living and non-living marine resources. On the other hand, in the
St. Lucia and France (Martinique) delimitation agreement of 1981,
which defined the maritime boundary between St. Lucia and the
French Caribbean Department, the important considerations of living
resources, the maritime environment and other economic factors did
not attract any attention. Geographic factors dominated the delimita-
tion and other considerations, such as independence, and in fact did
not yield any political advantage for St Lucia.

31
See Delimitation of Maritime Boundaries within CARICOM (Background
papers for Report), para. 43, available at http://www.caricom-fisheries.com/website
_content/publications/documents/Delimitation_of_Maritime_Boundaries_within
_CARICOM.pdf.
 some reflections on factors exerting influence241

The Trinidad and Tobago and Venezuela maritime boundary treaty

of 1990 is very interesting for many reasons. It superseded all previous
delimitation treaties between the two countries. The total designated
length of the boundary is about 440 nautical miles, of which 235 nauti-
cal miles are located in the Atlantic sector. The Parties reserved the
right to negotiate a future extension of the boundary line to delimit
parts of the extended continental shelf recognized by UNCLOS. The
Parties indicated that if it were determined that the outer edge of the
continental margin was located closer to 150 nautical miles from the
respective baselines, further negotiations would take place between
them in conformity with the provisions of international law. The treaty
states that its provisions do not prejudice the rights of third parties. It
should be added that the treaty is not limited to boundary delimita-
tions, but is multipurpose. It takes into account living and non-living
resources in the area, specifically hydrocarbon exploitations and fish-
ery interests, as well as navigation and pollution control.
The 1993 treaty on delimitation between Jamaica and Columbia is of
a special type. The centrepiece of this treaty is the creation of the Joint
Regime Area (JRA) which is delimited with respect to third States. The
treaty deals with the maritime space between the two States including
the outer limits of the JRA. On the basis of the provisions of the treaty,
a Joint Commission was established to oversee activities within the
Joint Regime Area, which is about 4,500 square nautical miles and cov-
ers a zone in the proximity of which Jamaican fishermen have long
operated. This modus operandi constitutes a useful precedent for coop-
eration between other countries not just in the Caribbean area.
The Barbados-Guyana exclusive economic zone treaty signed in
2003 also provides for the Parties to enter into a joint fishery licensing
agreement. It envisages as well joint jurisdiction over non-living
resources which will be managed by a joint non-living resources com-
mission to be established by the Parties. The treaty underlines its tran-
sitional nature pending the eventual delimitation of the respective
maritime zones of the Parties. The treaty creates the Co-operative Zone
which is concerned with the regulation, management and development
of the living and non-living resources of the zone. Though the treaty
refers also to the security of both States and environmental issues it
concentrates on joint civil and administration jurisdiction within the
zone and is primarily aimed at its economic development.
These four examples show that States are more and more frequently
using the legal framework created by UNCLOS to meet different
242 stanislaw pawlak

­ aritime delimitations in relations with their neighbours, not only

m
and not primarily in the context of the settlement of boundary
disputes, but primarily as a basis for the management of the living
and non-living resources of the oceans. Sir Robert Jennings rightly
emphasizes this aspect of the contemporary Law of the Sea, stressing
that “the primary problems in today’s oceans is policy and manage-
ment of the resources, both living and non-living”. He further argues
that peaceful settlement of maritime disputes is a necessary part of
that administration and management. “But it is a part and not the
whole. It is one component.”32
In this context due note should be given to the fact that the newest
maritime treaties concentrate more on economic cooperation then on
the dispute solving procedure.
The Treaty on Certain Maritime Arrangements in the Timor Sea
(CMATS), which came into force on 23 February 2007, is a very good
example of such approach. East Timor has agreed to Australia’s pro-
posal to shelve the Timor Sea dispute and maritime boundary delimi-
tation negotiations for the duration of the Treaty. Article 4 of the Treaty
provides that “neither Australia nor Timor-Leste shall assert, pursue or
further by any means in relation to the other Party its claims to sover-
eign right and jurisdiction and maritime boundaries for the period of
this Treaty”33 relating to the agreement on Utilization of the Sunrise
and Troubadour Fields, done at Dili on 6 March 2003.
The critical issue in the Treaty is addressed in Article 5, which states
that Australia and East Timor shall “share equally” revenues derived
from the upstream exploration of petroleum reserves within the Unit
Area established under the Sunrise Agreement. East Timor therefore is
set to gain a 50 per cent share in the proceeds of the Sunrise Fields.
To secure their economic benefits the parties to the Treaty agreed
that neither would “commence or pursue any proceedings against the
other party before any court, tribunal or other settlement dispute
mechanism that would raise or result in either directly or indirectly,

32
Sir R. Jenkings, Keynote Address, in: M. Nordquist / J. N. Moore (eds.), Current
maritime issues and the International Maritime Organizations., p. 16 (1999).
33
 Treaty between the Government of Australia and the Government of the
Democratic Republic of Timor-Leste on Certain Maritime Arrangements in the Timor
Sea (CMATS) (Signed in Sydney, 12 January 2006. In force 23 February 2007) in:
C. Schofield, Minding the Gap: The Australia–East Timor Treaty on Certain Maritime
Arrangements in the Timor Sea, 22 International Journal of Marine and Coastal Law
189, at 223 (2007).
 some reflections on factors exerting influence243

issues or findings of relevance to maritime boundaries or delimitations

in the Timor Sea”.34
The Treaty on Certain Maritime Arrangements in the Timor Sea, in
spite of some criticism expressed in both countries, provides a very
useful model of “provisional arrangements of practical nature” designed
to deal, amongst other things, with overlapping claims and maritime
jurisdiction as well as it provides a sound basis for international coop-
eration in oceans management and seabed resources without waiting
for delimitation of maritime boundary in that area.
The abovementioned examples indicate that States’ practice nowa-
days is concentrated not primarily on lengthy negotiations on bound-
ary delimitation disputes but on provisional arrangements pending
delimitations of joint development zones adjacent to bordering States.
It goes without saying that in many areas of the world the joint devel-
opment of living and non-living resources is very beneficial to the
States concerned, and may influence greatly the peaceful solution of
their maritime delimitation claims in the future. Thus, not only geo-
graphical but also economic and political factors will have increasing
weight in the solution of maritime delimitation problems and
disputes.

34
Id. CMATS. Article 12 (1) 35 and Article 4 (4).
 Land and Maritime Tripoints in
International Jurisprudence

Alain Pellet*

Writing on “Intervention in the Proceedings before the International

Court of Justice and the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea”
Rüdiger Wolfrum noted that “due to the growing legal interdepend-
ence of States, every dispute has to be considered from the point of
view of multilateralism”.1 The evolution of the international case law
concerning the determination of tripoints on the occasion of disputes
concerning land or maritime delimitation confirms this view.
According to Coalter G. Lathrop, “[a]proximately one half of all
maritime boundary delimitations worldwide involve a tripoint issue”;2
the proportion is probably even higher concerning land delimitation.
Such a situation is a matter of embarrassment for the States concerned
when they delimit their boundaries bilaterally and for the international
courts and tribunals when they are called upon to decide on a bilateral
frontier dispute involving the rights of one or two (rarely more) third
States. However, the issue has been abusively complicated by the ICJ,
which, in some Judgments, stated that it arises differently in matters of
maritime delimitation on the one hand and land delimitation on the
other hand.
In its Judgment of 10 October 2002 in the Cameroon v. Nigeria
case, the ICJ did not “accept […] that the reasoning […] in regard to
land boundaries is necessarily transposable to those concerning mari-
time boundaries. These are two distinct areas of the law, to which

* The author is most indebted to Alina Miron, researcher at the Centre de Droit
international de Nanterre, for her assistance with the research for this study.
1
R. Wolfrum, Intervention in the Proceedings before the International Court of
Justice and the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, in Liber Amicorum
Günther Jaenicke, Beiträge zum ausländischen öffentlichen Recht und Völkerrecht,,
427, at 442 (135th ed. 1998) (also published in P. Chandrasekhara Rao, Rahmatullah
Khan (eds.), The International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea: Law and Practice, 161,
at 172 (2001).
2
C. G. Lathrop, Tripoint Issues in Maritime Boundary Delimitation, in:
D. A. Colson / R. W. Smith (eds.), International Maritime Boundaries, at 3305
(Vol. V, 2005), citing the Handbook on the Delimitation of Maritime Boundaries, UN
Sales No. E.01.V.2, at 45 (2000).
246 alain pellet

different factors and considerations apply.”3 While understanding the

underlying reasons for caution, the present writer respectfully does not
agree. In particular, he is of the opinion that there is no reason for dis-
tinguishing between the rules applicable to the determination (or non-
determination) of land tripoints on the one hand and maritime
tripoints (whatever maritime area is concerned) on the other hand.
In both situations:
– the Court or international tribunal seised of the case must fix a
complete and final boundary between the Parties;
– the purpose being the same, contrary to widely shared misconcep-
tions, the process followed in both cases is quite similar;
– while at the same time the rights of third States must be preserved;
and
– as a result of these apparently conflicting duties, the Court or the
international tribunal in question cannot decide on the precise loca-
tion of tripoints, but can (and must) indicate the general direction of
the boundary line between the Parties up to the (undetermined)
point where it reaches the jurisdiction of a third State.

A. On Land or at Sea: Similar Purposes

As the firmly established case law of the World Court shows, “[i]n gen-
eral, when two countries establish a frontier between them, one of the
primary objects is to achieve stability and finality”.4 In particular, “[i]t
is, […] natural that any article [of a treaty] designed to fix a frontier
should, if possible, be so interpreted that the result of the application of
its provisions in their entirety should be the establishment of a precise,
complete and definitive frontier.”5

3
Land and Maritime Boundary between Cameroon and Nigeria (Cameroon v.
Nigeria: Equatorial Guinea intervening), ICJ Reports 2002, 421, para. 238. The Court
expressly cited its reasoning in the Frontier Dispute (Burkina Faso / Republic of
Mali), ICJ Reports 1986, 554 and the Territorial Dispute (Libyan Arab Jamahiriya /
Chad), ICJ Reports 1994, 6. While I was Counsel for Cameroon in that case, I wish to
stress that I do not criticize the outcome of this Judgment with respect to the tripoint;
what I do criticize is the declaration that different factors and considerations apply or,
at least, prevail.
4
Temple of Preah Vihear (Cambodia v. Thailand), ICJ Reports 1962, 34. See more
generally: K. H. Kaikobad, Some Observations on the Doctrine of Continuity and
Finality of Boundaries, 54 British Yearbook of International Law, at 119–141 (1983).
5
Advisory Opinion, Interpretation of Article 3, Para. 2, of the Treaty of Lausanne,
24 July 1923, PCIJ 1925, Series B, No. 12, at 20.
 land and maritime tripoints247

This holds true in respect of the land and the territorial seas bounda-
ries as well as the limits between maritime areas in which States enjoy
sovereign rights and jurisdiction, namely the continental shelf or
the exclusive economic zones.6 As recalled by the Arbitral Tribunal
in the Beagle Channel case, “a limit, a boundary, across which the juris-
dictions of the respective bordering States may not pass, implies
definitiveness and permanence”.7 The ICJ admittedly noted in Romania
v. Ukraine that a maritime boundary delimiting the continental shelf
and exclusive economic zones is not to be assimilated to a State bound-
ary separating territories of States. The former defines the limits of
maritime zones where under international law coastal States have cer-
tain sovereign rights for defined purposes. The latter defines the terri-
torial limits of State sovereignty.”8 But this difference does not entail
any consequence as to the need for certainty and completeness of the
respective boundaries.
The very purpose of any boundary delimitation between States–
whether terrestrial or maritime–is to determine the extent (and limit)
of their respective jurisdictions. States must know as precisely as pos-
sible where the limits of their territorial sovereignty or sovereign rights
lie–not only for the exercise of their own jurisdiction but also because
this is of tremendous practical importance: interested people (people
working across the border, nomadic or semi-nomadic tribes, farmers
whose plots of land lie on both sides of the boundary, tourists, but also
fishing boats or cargo ships, the navy, aircraft) must be aware of the ter-
ritorial jurisdiction to which they are subject. Quoting from the 1978
ICJ Judgment in the Aegean Sea Continental Shelf, Daniel Bardonnet
noted, “‘Établir les limites entre États voisins’, c’est ‘tracer la ligne exacte
[…] de rencontre des espaces où s’exercent respectivement les pouvoirs
et droits souverains’9 des États en question. La délimitation est indis-
pensable à la vie juridique car elle est l’assiette de multiples prérogatives

6
There is no reason why this finding should not apply to the limits between any
other kind of maritime zones such as fishery zones or non-exclusive economic zones.
7
Dispute between Argentina and Chile concerning the Beagle Channel, 21 Reports of
International Arbitral Awards (RIAA), at 88–89 (1977).
8
Maritime Delimitation in the Black Sea (Romania v Ukraine), ICJ Reports 2009,
130, para. 217. See also Id., at 88, para. 71.
9
Fn 42 (p. 140) in the text: “CIJ Recueil 1978, at 35, para. 85. Cf. les remarques de
la Commission du droit international dans son rapport sur les travaux de sa trente-
deuxième session, ACDI, 1980, Vol. II, deuxième partie, p. 80, par. 5.”–“See the remarks
by the International Law Commission on the works of its 32nd session, ILC Yearbook,
1980, Part II, p. [82 of the English version], para. 5” (author’s translation).
248 alain pellet

étatiques qui ne peuvent s’exercer et s’harmoniser que dans la mesure

où leur champ d’applicabilité est précisé.”10

B. On Land or at Sea, Similar Processes

Comparing maritime and land delimitation, Prosper Weil, asks, “dans

quelle mesure la délimitation maritime ressemble-t-elle à la délimita-
tion terrestre? dans quelle mesure accuse-t-elle des traits spécifiques?
À ce problème la réponse apparaît nuancée; si l’opération de délimita-
tion est, par sa nature même, fondamentalement différente sur mer et
sur terre, la frontière qui en résulte tend à revêtir des caractères simi-
laires.”11 While I agree with the second part of the answer, I have diffi-
culties in accepting that the processes are that much different.
It may be true that “[l]a différence entre les éléments matériels
appelle très naturellement une différence de régimes juridiques”;12 but,
this relates to the area concerned, and not to the process for determin-
ing the boundary, nor to the boundary itself which performs the same
functions as the land boundary–functions which are not affected by

10
D. Bardonnet, Les frontières terrestres et la relativité de leur tracé, 153 Recueil
des Cours de l’Académie de Droit international 1, at 21 (1976)–“‘[T]o establish the
boundary or boundaries between neighbouring States’ means ‘to draw the exact line
or lines where the extension in space of the sovereign powers and rights’(Aegean Sea
Continental Shelf (Greece v. Turkey), ICJ Reports 1978, 35–36, para. 85) of the respec-
tive States meet. Delimitation is indispensable to the legal sphere for it is the founda-
tion of multiple State prerogatives which can be exercised and go together only if their
respective fields of application are specified” (author’s translation).
11
P. Weil, Délimitation maritime et délimitation terrestre, Écrits de droit interna-
tional, at 247 (2000), originally published in Essays in Honour of Shabtai Rosenne,
International Law at a Time of Perplexity, at 1021–1026 (1989)–italics in the text
(“to what extent does maritime delimitation looks like land delimitation? to what
extent does it present special traits? A nuanced answer must be given to these
questions; while the delimitation process, by its very nature, fundamentally differs on
the land and in the sea, the resulting boundary seems to offer similar characters”
(author’s translation).
12
Arbitral Award, Delimitation of maritime boundary between Guinea-Bissau and
Senegal, Dissenting Opinion of Mohammed Bedjaoui, 20 RIAA, at 168, para. 36
(1989)–“the difference between the material elements quite naturally calls for differ-
ence in the legal régimes” (English translation as reproduced in ICJ, 23 August 1989,
Arbitral Award of 31 July 1989 (Guinea-Bissau v. Senegal), Annex to the Application
instituting proceedings of the Government of the Republic of Guinea-Bissau (Arbitral
Award of 31 July 1989), at 106–107, para. 36). See also, at 168, para. 35: “[…] il ne me
paraît pas douteux que les limites maritimes sont des frontières, mais d’une nature ou
d’une catégorie différente.”–“[…] there can, it seems to me, be no doubt that maritime
limits constitute frontiers, but frontiers of different nature or category” (Id., at 105,
para. 35).
 land and maritime tripoints249

the difference in the material elements. As found by the majority in the

case concerning Delimitation of maritime boundary between Guinea-
Bissau and Senegal:
“Une frontière internationale est la ligne formée par la succession des
points extrêmes du domaine de validité spatial des normes de l’ordre
juridique d’un État. La délimitation du domaine de validité spatial de
l’État peut concerner la surface terrestre, les eaux fluviales ou lacustres, la
mer, le sous-sol ou l’atmosphère. Dans tous les cas, le but des traités est le
même : déterminer d’une manière stable et permanente le domaine de
validité spatial des normes juridiques de l’État. D’un point de vue
juridique, il n’existe aucune raison d’établir des régimes différents selon
l’élément matériel où la limite est fixée.”13
It is commonplace to uphold that “the maritime territory […] presents
numerous peculiarities which distinguish it from the land territory and
from the bodies of water more or less completely surrounded by these
territories.”14 Physically, this is indisputable15; water and earth are two
different elements, and while the latter can be trapped, water, like air, is
fluid and evasive. Therefore you may demarcate and mark a land
boundary on the ground16; this is not feasible in the case of maritime
boundaries which can only be marked up on maritime charts since

13
Delimitation of maritime boundary between Guinea-Bissau and Senegal, 20 RIAA,
at 144, para. 63 (1989)–“An international frontier is a line formed by the successive
extremities of the area of validity in space of the norms of the legal order of a particular
State. The delimitation of the area of spatial validity of the State may relate to the land
area, the waters of rivers and lakes, the sea, the subsoil or the atmosphere. In all cases,
the purpose of the relevant treaties is the same: to determine in a stable and permanent
manner the area of validity in space of the legal norms of the State. From a legal point
of view, there is no reason to establish different régimes dependent on which material
element is being delimited.” (English translation as reproduced in ICJ, 23 August 1989,
Arbitral Award of 31 July 1989 (Guinea-Bissau v. Senegal), Annex to the Application
instituting proceedings of the Government of the Republic of Guinea-Bissau (Arbitral
Award of 31 July 1989), at 51, para. 63.
14
Permanent Court of Arbitration, The Grisbådarna Case, English translation
available on the PCA Website, www.pca-cpa.org; French original, 11 UNRIAA, at 159
(1909).
15
See e.g. E. Jouannet, L’impossible protection des droits du tiers par la Cour
internationale de Justice dans les affaires de délimitation maritime in: V. Coussirat-
Coustère / Y. Daudet / P.-M. Dupuy / P. M. Eisemann / M. Voelckel (eds.), La mer et
son droit–Mélanges offerts à Laurent Lucchini et Jean-Pierre Quéneudec, 315, at 317
(2003).
16
With special difficulties where a river or a lake is concerned. According to the
definition given by the ICJ in Cameroon v. Nigeria, “[…] the delimitation of a bound-
ary consists in its ‘definition’, whereas the demarcation of a boundary, which presup-
poses its prior delimitation, consists of operations marking it out on the ground.”
(Land and Maritime Boundary between Cameroon and Nigeria; supra note 3, at 359,
para. 84).
250 alain pellet

“there are no signposts or frontiers in the sea as such”.17 Similarly, the

difference between the consistency of the land on the one hand and
the sea on the other hand has important consequences in relation to
evidence of title: while, failing a formal agreement or other kind of
written title, the effectivités can play a role in establishing both the
appurtenance of a given land territory and its limits,18 they can have no
evidentiary value as far as sea delimitation is concerned.19 But these
differences have no impact in matters of delimitation properly called
between States with opposite or adjacent coasts: in both situations, a
line must be drawn which will represent the limit of the respective
jurisdiction of each State and which, therefore, must be as precise,
complete and permanent as possible.
More fundamentally, it is a widespread view that “[c]ontrairement à
la délimitation terrestre, la délimitation maritime ne consiste pas à
rechercher le titre le meilleur, donc le seul décisif en droit; elle consiste
à résoudre les difficultés nées de la coexistence de deux titres de même
qualité juridique”.20 This position may find some support in the inter-
national jurisprudence; thus, according to the Arbitral Court in the
Beagle Channel dispute between Argentina and Chile, “[t]o draw a
boundary between the maritime jurisdiction of States, involves first
attributing to them, or recognizing as being theirs, the title over the ter-
ritories that generate such jurisdiction”.21
Contrary to what this wording seems to imply, the expressions in
italics are not equivalent: if it were true that delimiting a maritime

17
Beagle Channel Award, supra note 7, at 80, para. 6.
18
Frontier Dispute (Burkina Faso / Republic of Mali), ICJ Reports 1986, 586–587,
para. 63; see also Land and Maritime Boundary between Cameroon and Nigeria,
supra note 3, 351–355, paras. 64–70 and 415–416, para. 223 and Sovereignty over
Pedra Branca/Pulau Batu Puteh, Middle Rocks and South Ledge (Malaysia / Singapore),
ICJ Reports 2008, 50–51, paras. 120–122. On this point, see M. Kohen, La relation
titres/effectivités dans le contentieux territorial à la lumière de la jurisprudence de la
C.I.J., Revue Générale de Droit International Public at 561–596 (2004).
19
Arbitration between Barbados and the Republic of Trinidad and Tobago, relating
to the delimitation of the exclusive economic zone and the continental shelf between
them, 27 RIAA, at 242, para. 366 (2006); North Sea Continental Shelf (Federal Republic
of Germany / Denmark; Federal Republic of Germany / Netherlands), ICJ Reports
1969, 22, para. 19 and 51, para. 96; Fisheries Jurisdiction (Federal Republic of Germany
v. Iceland), ICJ Reports 1974, 191, para. 41; Continental Shelf (Tunisia / Libyan Arab
Jamahiriya), ICJ Reports 1982, 66–67, para. 87.
20
P. Weil (note 11), at 251–“Contrary to land delimitation, maritime delimitation
does not consist in looking for the better title, that is the only one decisive in law; it
consists in solving the difficulties stemming from the coexistence of two titles having
the same legal value” (author’s translation). See also supra note 15.
21
Beagle Channel Award (note 7), at 80, para. 6–italics added.
 land and maritime tripoints251

boundary presupposes “attributing” the maritime jurisdiction belong-

ing to each of the States concerned, then this would be an opera-
tion very different from the delimitation of land boundaries. But this
is not so.
It is certainly true that, as the ICJ recalled in its leading 2009
Judgment in Romania v. Ukraine, “the task of delimitation consists in
resolving the overlapping claims by drawing a line of separation of the
maritime areas concerned”.22 But this does not mean that the interna-
tional courts or tribunal which are called upon to perform such a task
have to “allocate” or “attribute” or “share” the areas in question between
the States concerned. In particular, it cannot be accepted that sea
delimitation is “the same thing as awarding a just and equitable share of
a previously undelimited area […]”.23 Contrary to Prosper Weil’s con-
tention, according to which “la délimitation maritime est condamnée à
amputer le titre de chacun”,24 such an operation aims at describing the
precise territorial scope of each State’s title. On this precise point, the
Court was right in its (for other reasons unfortunate) 1969 Judgment:
“[d]elimitation is a process which involves establishing the boundaries
of an area already, in principle, appertaining to the coastal state and not
the determination de novo of such an area”.25
According to the well-known dictum of the ICJ in those same cases,
“the rights of the coastal State in respect of the area of continental shelf
that constitutes a natural prolongation of its land territory into and
under the sea exist ipso facto and ab initio, by virtue of its sover-
eignty over the land, and as an extension of it in an exercise of sover-
eign rights for the purpose of exploring the seabed and exploiting
its natural resources”.26 As a consequence, “the process of delimitation

22
See supra note 8, at 89, para. 77.
23
See supra note 19, at 22, para. 22; see also Case Concerning the Delimitation of the
Continental Shelf Between the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland,
and the French Republic, 28 RIAA, at 49, para. 78 (1977).
24
P. Weil, “Délimitation maritime et délimitation terrestre” (note 11), at 252–“mari-
time delimitation is doomed to amputate each State’s title” (author’s translation).
25
See supra note 19, at 22, para. 22. For an interesting discussion of the origin of the
pre-existing title of the coastal State to its continental shelf see B. Kunoy, The Rise of the
Sun: Legal Arguments in Outer Continental Margin Delimitations, Nordic Journal of
International Law, at 255–262 (2006).
26
Id., at 22, para. 19. In the same vein, the Court appreciated, in the Aegean
Sea Continental Shelf case, that “continental shelf rights are legally both an emanation
from and an automatic adjunct of the territorial sovereignty of the coastal State.” (supra
note 10, at 36, para. 86). See also the Geneva Convention on the Continental Shelf,
29 April 1958, Article 2, and the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea, 10 December
1982, Article 77(3).
252 alain pellet

is essentially one of drawing a boundary line between areas which

already appertain to one or other of the States affected”.27
Indeed, this is usually said to be specific to “the basic concept of
continental shelf entitlement”, in contrast to the concept of an EEZ,
which is “claim dependant” in that a State can avail itself of such a zone
only when it has formally proclaimed it.28 This may be so,29 but it does
not change the problematic in matters of delimitation: if and when two
States with opposite or adjacent coasts have proclaimed the existence
of such areas, the delimitation process will be guided by the same prin-
ciples as those applicable to the delimitation of the continental shelf:
– the first rule is that the delimitation should “be effected by agree-
ment on the basis of international law, […] in order to achieve an
equitable solution”;30
– if such an agreement cannot be concluded and an international court
or tribunal is seised of the dispute, it will base itself on the respective
titles invoked by the Parties;31
– including pre-existing agreements between them;32 and
– failing such determinative title, it will look for the “best title”.33

27
Id., para. 20.
28
See supra note 19, at 22, para. 20. The same idea is reflected in: Land, Island and
Maritime Frontier Dispute (El Salvador / Honduras: Nicaragua intervening), ICJ
Reports 1992, 608, para. 419: “the modern law of the sea has added territorial sea
extending from the baseline […]; has recognized continental shelf as extending beyond
the territorial sea and belonging ipso jure to the coastal State; and confers a right on the
coastal State to claim an exclusive economic zone extending up to 200 miles from the
baseline of the territorial sea”. See also P. Weil, Perspectives du droit de la délimitation
maritime, at 142 (1988) and R. R. Churchill / A. V. Lowe (eds.), The Law of the Sea,
156–158 (1988).
29
Although the present writer finds this to be a very artificial distinction since
the “existence” of the area is of right and immediate when the proclamation is made.
30
See Arts 74(1) and 83(1) of the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea,
10 December 1982.
31
See Arts 74(2) and 83(2) of the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea,
10 December 1982.
32
“Where there is an agreement in force between the States concerned, questions
relating to the delimitation of the [exclusive economic zone] [continental shelf] shall
be determined in accordance with the provisions of that agreement” (Arts. 74(4) and
83(4) of the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea, 10 December 1982).
33
Such a methodology is apparent in the Maritime Delimitation in the Black Sea
case, when the Court stated: “The title of a State to the continental shelf and to the
exclusive economic zone is based on the principle that the land dominates the sea
through the projection of the coasts or the coastal fronts. As the Court stated in the
North Sea Continental Shelf (Federal Republic of Germany/Denmark; Federal Republic of
Germany/Netherlands) cases, ‘the land is the legal source of the power which a State
 land and maritime tripoints253

These general guidelines are, in all respects, similar to those applicable

in matters of land delimitation: most land boundaries are fixed by
agreement; when they are not, a peaceful means of settlement will have
to be resorted to; if an international court or tribunal is called upon to
decide, it will first apply any pre-existing treaty title (or other kind of
pre-existing title),34 and, absent such title, it will determine the bound-
ary in accordance with general principles varying according to the
circumstances.
Indeed the content of these principles is in part different on the land
and at sea. In order to draw a land boundary, recourse will be had to
principles such as uti possidetis, effective occupation, prescription, etc.,
which can hardly apply (or not without adjustment) in the case of sea
delimitation.35 On the contrary, the search for an “equitable solution”,
the criterion of the distance from the coast or, more precisely, the “equi-
distance/relevant circumstances” principle, which prevails for sea
delimitation, cannot be applied as such to fix a land boundary. But the
process, like the purpose, is essentially similar in both cases.

may exercise over territorial extensions to seaward’ (Judgment, I.C.J. Reports 1969,
p. 51, para. 96). In the Continental Shelf (Tunisia/Libyan Arab Jamahiriya) case, the
Court observed that “the coast of the territory of the State is the decisive factor for
title to submarine areas adjacent to it” (Judgment, I.C.J.Reports 1982, p. 61, para. 73).
It is therefore important to determine the coasts of Romania and of Ukraine which
generate the rights of these countries to the continental shelf and the exclusive eco-
nomic zone, namely, those coasts the projections of which overlap, because the task of
delimitation consists in resolving the overlapping claims by drawing a line of separa-
tion of the maritime areas concerned.” (note 8), at 89, para. 77.
34
For an illustration see the ICJ 1994 Judgment in Chad / Libya: since it found
that “[t]he 1955 Treaty completely determined the boundary between Libya and
Chad” (note 3, at 40, para. 76), it was “unnecessary to consider the history of the
‘Borderlands’ claimed by Libya on the basis of title inherited from the indigenous peo-
ple, the Senoussi Order, the Ottoman Empire and Italy […] [or other] matters which
have been discussed at length before it such as the principle of uti possidetis and the
applicability of the Declaration adopted by the Organization of African Unity at Cairo
in 1964 [or] the effectiveness of occupation of the relevant areas in the past, and the
question whether it was constant, peaceful and acknowledged […]” (id., at 38, paras.
75 and 76).
35
In its Judgment of 8 October 2007, in the Case concerning territorial and maritime
dispute between Nicaragua and Honduras in the Caribbean sea (Nicaragua v. Honduras),
the ICJ seems to accept that arguments based on the uti possidetis principle or the
practice of the concerned States could be invoked in matters of maritime delimitation,
but it dismisses them (see ICJ Reports 2007, 727–737, paras. 229–258). To be noted
in particular is the Court’s warning: “[t]he establishment of a permanent maritime
boundary is a matter of grave importance and agreement is not easily to be presumed”
(id., at 735, para. 253).
254 alain pellet

Therefore, contrary to the position taken by the Chamber of the ICJ

in Burkina / Mali,36 there should be no question that, as noted by the
Court in the Aegean Sea Continental Shelf case, “[w]hether it is a land
frontier or a boundary line in the continental shelf that is in question,
the process is essentially the same, and inevitably involves the same
element of stability and permanence […]”.37

C. On Land or at Sea, a Similar Dilemma

Except in very particular cases,38 the complete and definitive delimita-

tion of a disputed boundary, whether terrestrial or maritime, will usu-
ally imply the rights of one or two third States since the endpoint(s) of
the boundary to be fixed will be the starting point of the boundaries
between the Parties and a third State–this is the very definition of the
tripoint. This is a source of difficulty when a boundary is delimited by
negotiation as well as through judicial or arbitral proceedings. In both
cases, “the primary concern of the negotiators, judges or arbitrators is
to locate the boundary between the two parties to the negotiation or
proceeding. However […] a subsidiary question must also be answered:
How should the endpoint(s) of the bilateral boundary be defined in
light of possible third-state interests?”39
As a matter of fact, when two States seise an international court or
tribunal of a delimitation dispute (whether of their land or of their
maritime boundary), it is because there are uncertainties as to the pre-
cise location of the boundary in question–quite often including that of

36
“[T]he process by which a court determines the line of a land boundary between
two States can be clearly distinguished from the process by which it identifies the prin-
ciples and rules applicable to the delimitation of the continental shelf ” (Frontier
Dispute (Burkina Faso / Republic of Mali), ICJ Reports 1986, 578, para. 47). As rightly
noted by E. Jouannet, “en l’occurrence, il s’agissait simplement de fixer un tripoint et
l’on ne voit pas en quoi la différence de délimitation peut paraître ici essentielle puisque
c’est justement la question des tripoints qui les rend similaires” (supra note 20, at 329–
“in the circumstances, the only issue was to determine a tripoint and one has some
difficulties in perceiving how the difference in the delimitation processes may be that
essential since precisely the tripoints issue makes them similar” (author’s translation).
37
See supra note 10, at 35–36, para. 85.
38
Especially when the dispute bears upon a part of the common boundary without
any contact with a third State. See for instance Sovereignty over Certain Frontier Land
(Belgium v. Netherlands), ICJ Reports 1959, 209.
39
C. G. Lathrop (note 2), at 3305–3306. Mr. Lathrop’s remarks are limited to mari-
time delimitations; as seen above, there is no convincing reason not to extend them to
the definition of land boundaries, even if, in practice, the uncertainties are fewer.
 land and maritime tripoints255

the tripoint(s). However, this uncertainty can have no bearing on the

rights of third States.40
In effect, the Parties and the third States are in fundamentally differ-
ent situations vis-à-vis the court or tribunal’s jurisdiction. The main
points are as follows:
– the court or tribunal’s jurisdiction is based on consent;
– as a matter of definition, the Parties have accepted the court or
tribunal’s jurisdiction for the dispute in question;
– the third States are in a different position in that the court or tribu-
nal could have jurisdiction in order to settle a possible dispute
concerning the border at stake between them and the Parties or one
of them; but
– there is no possibility of “forced intervention” in international law
and, consequently, it is open to the third State to keep out of the pro-
ceedings even though it may have an interest in their outcome.
While in the framework of bilateral negotiations, the negotiators can
(or can not) take the risk of fixing the tripoint(s),41 the international
courts and tribunals are constrained by the consensual principle which
forbids them from taking a position on the interests of States which
have not accepted their jurisdiction. The rights of the third States con-
cerned must at the same time be preserved and set aside, since the
courts and tribunals cannot decide upon such rights without these
States’ consent. In other words, the judges and arbitrators must exercise
the jurisdiction conferred upon them by the Parties to its full extent,
but they must not exceed that jurisdiction.42 As the ICJ explained in
Cameroon v. Nigeria, “The jurisdiction of the Court is founded on the
consent of the parties. The Court cannot therefore decide upon legal
rights of third States not parties to the proceedings.”43 It would indeed
do so if it were to determine a tripoint without the express consent of
the third State concerned.

40
D. Bardonnet, Frontières terrestres et frontières maritimes, 35 Annuaire Français
de Droit International (AFDI) 1, at 54 (1989).
41
 On the various techniques resorted to by States in maritime delimitations
see C. G. Lathrop (note 2), at 3313–3321.
42
The ICJ put the formula the other way: “[t]he Court must not exceed the juris­
diction conferred upon it by the Parties, but it must also exercise that jurisdiction to
its full extent.” (Continental Shelf (Libyan Arab Jamahiriya / Malta), ICJ Reports 1985,
23, para. 19).
43
Land and Maritime Boundary between Cameroon and Nigeria (note 3), at 421,
para. 238.
256 alain pellet

In that case, the rights of two other States, namely Equatorial Guinea
and Sao Tome and Principe, could have been affected by the maritime
delimitation to be decided by the Court between Cameroon and
Nigeria. Since neither of them had become a party to the proceedings,44
the Court ensured that its Judgment would not affect the rights of those
two States and “[i]n view of the foregoing”, it concluded:
“that it cannot rule on Cameroon’s claims in so far as they might affect
rights of Equatorial Guinea and Sao Tome and Principe. Nonetheless, the
mere presence of those two States, whose rights may be affected by the
decision of the Court, does not in itself preclude the Court from having
jurisdiction over a maritime delimitation between the Parties to the case
before it, namely Cameroon and Nigeria, although it must remain mind-
ful, as always in situations of this kind, of the limitations on its jurisdic-
tion that such presence imposes”.45
Similarly, in its Award of 2006, the Arbitral Tribunal in Barbados v.
Trinidad and Tobago, emphasized “that its jurisdiction is limited to the
dispute concerning the delimitation of maritime zones as between
Barbados and Trinidad and Tobago. The Tribunal has no jurisdiction
in respect of maritime boundaries between either of the Parties and
any third State, and the Tribunal’s award does not prejudice the posi-
tion of any State in respect of any such boundary.”46
At the same time–and precisely so as not to prejudice the position of
the third State concerned, the international court or tribunal seised of
the dispute must take into account the rights and interests of that third
State. And, again, this is true concerning land boundaries as well as
maritime ones.
It is highly significant in this respect that in its 1984 Judgment on the
Application by Italy for permission to intervene in Libya / Malta, the ICJ
quoted from the 1933 PCIJ Judgment in the case of the Legal Status of
Eastern Greenland:
“Another circumstance which must be taken into account by any
tribunal which has to adjudicate upon a claim to sovereignty over a par-
ticular territory, is the extent to which the sovereignty is also claimed by
some other Power”:47

44
Equatorial Guinea had intervened as a non-party.
45
Land and Maritime Boundary between Cameroon and Nigeria (note 3), at 421,
para. 238.
46
Arbitration between Barbados and the Republic of Trinidad and Tobago, relating
to the delimitation of the exclusive economic zone and the continental shelf between
them (note 19), at 210, para. 218.
47
PCIJ 1933, Series A/B, No. 53, 46.
 land and maritime tripoints257

and the Court commented: “[…] this observation, which is itself unre-
lated to the possibility of intervention, is no less true when what
is in question is the extent of the respective areas of continental shelf
over which different States enjoy ‘sovereign rights’”.48
Consequently in its 1985 Judgment in the case concerning the
delimitation of the Continental shelf between Libya and Malta, the
Court refused to decide on the portions of the boundary in the areas
which could be subject to claims by Italy and Tunisia:
“the Parties have in effect invited the Court, notwithstanding the terms of
their Special Agreement, not to limit its judgment to the
area in which theirs are the sole competing claims; but the Court does
not regard itself as free to do so, in view of the interest of Italy in the pro-
ceedings. When rejecting the application of Italy to intervene in the pro-
ceedings, the Court noted that both Malta and Libya opposed that
application […]”49
The means to ensure the protection of third States may seem diverse.
In the first place, the international court or tribunal may take shelter
under Article 59 of the Statute of the ICJ and, more generally the prin-
ciple of res judicata. This was the position of the Chamber of the ICJ in
Burkina v. Mali, which explained:
“that its jurisdiction is not restricted simply because the end-point of the
frontier lies on the frontier of a third State not a party to the proceedings.
The rights of the neighbouring State, Niger, are in any event safeguarded
by the operation of Article 59 of the Statute of the Court, which provides
that ‘The decision of the Court has no binding force except between the
parties and in respect of that particular case’. The Parties could at any
time have concluded an agreement for the delimitation of their frontier,
according to whatever perception they might have had of it, and an
agreement of this kind, although legally binding upon them by virtue of
the principle pacta sunt servanda, would not be opposable to Niger. A
judicial decision, which ‘is simply an alternative to the direct and friendly
settlement’ of the dispute between the Parties (PCIJ, Series A, No. 22, 13),
merely substitutes for the solution stemming directly from their shared
intention, the solution arrived at by a court under the mandate which
they have given it. In both instances, the solution only has legal and bind-
ing effect as between the States which have accepted it, either directly or
as a consequence of having accepted the Court’s jurisdiction to decide
the case. Accordingly, on the supposition that the Chamber’s judgment
specifies a point which it finds to be the easternmost point of the frontier,

48
Continental Shelf (Libyan Arab Jamahiriya v. Malta), Application by Italy for
Permission to Intervene, ICJ Reports 1984, 26, para. 43.
49
Continental Shelf (Libyan Arab Jamahiriya / Malta), supra note 42, at 26, para. 21.
258 alain pellet

there would be nothing to prevent Niger from claiming rights, vis-à-vis

either of the Parties, to territories lying west of the point identified by the
Chamber.”50
However, the Court in Cameroon v. Nigeria considered that in
cases “where the maritime areas of several States are involved, the pro-
tection afforded by Article 59 of the Statute may not always be suffi-
cient”.51 If this were true–and the present writer is not fully convinced
that it is–it would also be true with respect to land delimitation; in both
cases, as explained by the Chamber of the ICJ in Burkina / Mali, the full
delimitation decided by the international court or tribunal would
imply, “as a logical corollary, both that the territory [or the sovereign
rights] of a third State lies beyond the end-point, and that the Parties
have exclusive sovereign rights up to that point”.52 However, it is rather
formal to hold that this “twofold presumption” “does not thereby create
a ground of opposability outside that context and against the third
State. Indeed, this is the whole point of the above-quoted Article 59 of
the Statute.”53 As a matter of fact, the interests, if not the rights, of the
third State are clearly affected; as has been noted, “Le jugement de la
Cour va […] s’imposer au tiers de façon quasi inéluctable”.54
This should be an incentive to intervene for the third State the rights
or interests of which are at stake, since, as an intervener, it can either
limit itself to informing the court or tribunal of its position or become
a Party to the dispute–which implies that it would be bound by the
judgment or the award, after participating in the proceedings on
an equal footing with the Parties.55 And, indeed, both States–which
tend to request to intervene more frequently than in the past56–and
the ICJ–which seems more inclined to accept interventions–seem

50
Frontier Dispute (Burkina Faso / Republic of Mali), supra note 18, at 577–578,
para. 46.
51
Land and Maritime Boundary between Cameroon and Nigeria (note 3), at 421,
para. 238.
52
Frontier Dispute (Burkina Faso / Republic of Mali), supra note 18, at 579, para. 49.
53
Id.
54
E. Jouannet (note 15), at 330–“the Court’s judgment will nearly unavoidably
impose itself to the third State” (author’s translation).
55
In contrast to Article 62 of the Statute of the ICJ (and with the Court’s practice),
Article 31(3) of the Statute of the ITLOS only envisages intervention as a Party.
See R. Wolfrum (note 1), at 440.
56
While the present paper was being prepared, two requests for permission to
intervene were pending before the ICJ: 25 February 2010, Application for Permission
to Intervene by the government of Costa Rica and 10 June 2010, Application for
 land and maritime tripoints259

convinced that intervention is an efficient and “economical” means of

protecting the rights and interests of the third States.57
But this remains subject to non-negligible hazards:
– third States are always free to intervene or not;
– if they intervene as non-Parties, the international court or tribunal
is certainly in a position to decide in full knowledge of the facts,
but the intervener(s) will not be bound by the decision and a new
dispute could occur in the future as to the determination of the
tripoint between it (or them); and one of the Parties or both:
– if the statute of an arbitral tribunal does not provide for the possibil-
ity to intervene, it is not self-evident that an intervention before such
a body would be permitted.
Consequently, the protection offered by the res judicata principle
being said to be insufficient and intervention remaining an uncertain
solution, it is for the court or tribunal having jurisdiction in a bound-
ary dispute to conciliate its duty to settle the dispute by defining a com-
plete boundary and that of preserving the rights of third States.

D. On Land or at Sea: a General Direction; not Tripoints

The international courts’ and tribunals’ dilemma can be expressed as

follows:58
– they must answer the submissions and needs of the Parties and, to
that end, define the boundary (whether on land or at sea) as com-
pletely as possible;
– they cannot decide on third States’ rights without their consent
(that is without them intervening as parties and, hitherto, such a
condition has never been met);

Permission to Intervene by the government of Honduras in the Territorial and Maritime

Dispute (Nicaragua v. Colombia) case. The Judgments rejecting both requests have
been given on 11 May 2011.
57
For this same view regarding intervention in general see R. Wolfrum, (note 1),
at 448–449. The two Judgments of 11 May 2011 (see note 56) seem to dement this view.
58
See the remarkable (but rather critical) discussion of this dilemma by E. Jouannet
(note 20), at 316–341, passim, in which she underlines “l’impasse inéluctable à laquelle
aboutit tout traitement de la position du tiers en droit international”–“the inescapable
deadlock which marks the third party position in international law” (author’s
translation).
260 alain pellet

– but they must take third States’ rights into account when they settle
the dispute between the Parties.59
Squaring the circle is a less formidable task than it looks, and even
though the international case law is not yet completely consistent, it
points to an elegant, simple and globally satisfactory solution consist-
ing in the international courts and tribunals abstaining from precisely
defining tripoints while indicating a direction for the boundary–that is
a line on which the tripoint can be fixed either by agreement between
the three interested States or on the occasion of a new international
proceedings.60
In effect, in their recent decisions, international courts and tribunals
have avoided fixing any point as the terminus of the line they decide,
but have simply indicated a direction to which the terminal part of the
line points, until the jurisdiction of a third State is reached.61
Whether on land or at sea this has not always been the case. Thus,
concerning land boundaries, the ICJ Judgments of 1986 in Burkina /
Mali on the one hand and of 2005 in Benin / Niger on the other hand
can be contrasted. In the first case, the Chamber of the Court took a
rather enigmatic position in deciding that it “it has a duty to decide the
whole of the petitum entrusted to it; that is, to indicate the line of the
frontier between the Parties over the entire length of the disputed area.
In so doing, it will define the location of the end-point of the frontier in

59
“While the ICJ and tribunals are careful to protect non-party interests, they are
also committed to fully discharging their duties vis-à-vis the parties before them
by delimiting their entire maritime boundary or as much of the maritime boundary as
has been requested. These two considerations create an obvious tension for the dispute
settlement body, which must carefully balance the interests of the parties with the
interests of non-party third states.” (C. Lathrop (note 2), at 3221).
60
The pending case of the Frontier Dispute between Burkina Faso and the Republic
of Niger is an example of such a situation where the boundary between one of the
Parties (Burkina) and a third State (Mali) has already been delimited in a previous
Judgment (Frontier Dispute (Burkina Faso / Republic of Mali), ICJ Reports 1986, 554).
It would be interesting to see whether the ICJ will consider that, since it has already
decided on the rights of the third State, it can fix a tripoint (the issue is complicated by
the fact that, in their Special Agreement, the Parties ask the Court to “donner acte aux
Parties de leur entente” (“acknowledge their agreement”- author’s translation; 21 July
2010, Special Agreement).
61
See, e.g., Continental Shelf (Libyan Arab Jamahiriya / Malta), supra note 42,
at 26, para. 22; Land and Maritime Boundary between Cameroon and Nigeria, supra
note 3, at 421, para. 238; Arbitration between Barbados and the Republic of Trinidad
and Tobago, relating to the delimitation of the exclusive economic zone and the
continental shelf between them (note 19), at 244–245, paras. 381–382; Territorial and
Maritime Dispute between Nicaragua and Honduras in the Caribbean Sea (note 35), at
755–759, paras. 312–318; and Maritime Delimitation in the Black Sea,
supra note 8, at 130, para. 218.
 land and maritime tripoints261

the east, the point where this frontier ceases to divide the territories of
Burkina Faso and Mali; but, as explained above,62 this will not amount
to a decision by the Chamber that this is a tripoint which affects Niger.
In accordance with Article 59 of the Statute, this Judgment will also not
be opposable to Niger as regards the course of that country’s fron-
tiers.”63 This exclusive reliance upon the safeguard constituted by
Article 59 of the Statute was abandoned in the 2005 Judgment, where
the Chamber of the Court found that:
“[…] that the boundary between the Republic of Benin and the Republic
of Niger in the River Niger sector takes the following course:[…] the line
of deepest soundings of the main navigable channel of the river as far as
the boundary of the Parties with Nigeria” and
“[…] Finds that the boundary between the Republic of Benin and the
Republic of Niger in the River Mekrou sector follows the median line of
that river, from the intersection of the said line with the line of deepest
soundings of the main navigable channel of the River Niger as far as the
boundary of the Parties with Burkina Faso”,64
thus leaving the precise location of both tripoints undetermined.
The same hesitations can be noted regarding maritime delimitation.
In some cases, the Parties have themselves defined the extremities of
the area to be delimited. This was the case in the 1977 Award in the
Anglo-French continental shelf case where the Court of Arbitration
endorsed the definition of the disputed area given by the Parties in the
Compromis, but with two important caveats: first that it was not “open
to the Court […] to pronounce in these proceedings on the position of
the tripoint”65 and, second, that its decision “will neither be binding
upon nor create any rights or obligations for any third State, and in
particular for the Republic of Ireland, for which this Decision will
be res inter alios acta”.66 In Jan Mayen, the ICJ expressly integrally
­preserved the maximum claim of Iceland67 as it did in fact do–although

62
See the quotation above, supra note 50.
63
Frontier Dispute (note 18), at 579–580, para. 50. In Libya / Chad the Court seems
to follow the same path and indicates the coordinates of the extremities of
the boundary between the Parties but without defining them as “tripoints” (see supra
note 3, in particular at 33, para. 63).
64
Frontier Dispute (Benin / Niger), ICJ Reports 2005, 150–151, para. 146.1 and 4
of the dispositif–italics added.
65
Delimitation of the Continental Shelf between the United Kingdom and the French
Republic (note 23), at 27, para. 27.
66
Id., at 27, para. 28.
67
Maritime Delimitation in the Area between Greenland and Jan Mayen (Denmark
v. Norway), ICJ Reports 1993, 82, para. 94(2).
262 alain pellet

with less clarity–in Libya / Malta in order to preserve the rights claimed
by Italy.68
However, in most recent maritime delimitation cases, the ICJ and
the arbitral tribunals refrained from fixing the endpoint of the bound-
ary line they adopted after fixing the penultimate point of the border,
from which they indicated a direction (usually represented by an azi-
muth) until it meets a maritime area belonging to a third State. As the
Court very clearly explained in one of its most recent decisions in that
field:
“… it is usual in a judicial delimitation for the precise endpoint
to be left undefined in order to refrain from prejudicing the rights
of third States. (See for example Continental Shelf (Tunisia/Libyan
Arab Jamahiriya), Judgment, I.C.J. Reports 1982, p. 91, para. 130; Conti­
nental Shelf (Libyan Arab Jamahiriya/Malta), Application for Permission
to Intervene, Judgment, I.C.J. Reports 1984, p. 27, and Continental
Shelf (Libyan Arab Jamahiriya/Malta), Judgment, I.C.J. Reports 1985,
pp. 26–28, paras. 21–23; and Land and Maritime Boundary Between
Cameroon and Nigeria (Cameroon v. Nigeria : Equatorial Guinea inter-
vening), Judgment, I.C.J. Reports 2002, paras. 238, 245 and 307.)”.69
Similarly, in Qatar v. Bahrain, the ICJ decided:
“that the single maritime boundary in this sector shall be formed in the
first place by a line which, from a point situated to the north-west of
Fasht ad Dibal, shall meet the equidistance line as adjusted to take
account of the absence of effect given to Fasht al Jarim. The boundary
shall then follow this adjusted equidistance line until it meets the delimi-
tation line between the respective maritime zones of Iran on the one
hand and of Bahrain and Qatar on the other”,70

68
Continental Shelf (Libyan Arab Jamahiriya v. Malta), supra note 42, at 26, para. 21:
“The present decision must […] be limited in geographical scope so as to leave the
claims of Italy unaffected, that is to say that the decision of the Court must be confined
to the area in which, as the Court has been informed by Italy, that State has no claims
to continental shelf rights. The Court, having been informed of Italy’s claims, and hav-
ing refused to permit that State to protect its interests through the procedure of inter-
vention, thus ensures Italy the protection it sought.” See also Arbitration between
Barbados and the Republic of Trinidad and Tobago, relating to the delimitation of the
exclusive economic zone and the continental shelf between them (note 19), at 273,
para. 374.
69
Territorial and Maritime Dispute between Nicaragua and Honduras in the
Caribbean Sea (note 35), at 757, para. 312.
70
Maritime Delimitation and Territorial Questions between Qatar and Bahrain
(Qatar v. Bahrain), ICJ Reports 2001, 115, para. 249.
 land and maritime tripoints263

and in Romania v. Ukraine, it considered “that the delimitation line fol-

lows the equidistance line in a southerly direction until the point
beyond which the interests of third States may be affected”.71

E. Conclusion

As colourfully explained by Mr Lathrop, “Tripoints are like glue–while

they can provide the adhesive to cement three separate bilateral
agreements together, they can also make things very sticky”.72 However,
it can be noted that, adroitly, international courts and tribunals have
kept their hands out of that glue; although Professor Jouannet does not
perceive a “réponse claire et continue au problème posé”,73 after a floating
period they have rightly come to the conclusion that they had to bypass
the difficulty in order to preserve the sacrosanct principle of consent to
jurisdiction. This now apparently well-established jurisprudence con-
sisting in indicating a direction instead of an endpoint making the
tripoint in frontier disputes must certainly be approved.
Moreover, “[l]a prise en compte des intérêts des États tiers dans les
deux catégories de différends terrestres et maritimes […] reflète […]
un certain rapprochement, là encore, du régime juridique des deux
types de frontières”.74 This convergence is equally most welcome and
should lead to mitigation of the “particularisms” unduly attributed to
the delimitation of land and maritime boundaries respectively. In both
cases, the international courts and tribunals have been well advised to
consider the disputed delimitations and the question of the tripoints
“from the point of view of multilateralism”, to quote again the words of
Rüdiger Wolfrum.75

71
Maritime Delimitation in the Black Sea (note 8), at 128–129, paras. 207–209.
72
C. G. Lathrop (note 2), at 3341.
73
See supra note 20, at 323–“a clear and continuous answer to the issue in question”
(author’s translation).
74
D. Bardonnet (note 40), at 59–“the taking into consideration of third States’ rights
both in land and maritime disputes […] reflects, here again, a certain convergence of
the legal régimes of the two types of boundaries” (author’s translation).
75
See supra note 1.
 RefLections on the Cogency of Fragmentation:
Statutes of Limitation and “Continuing
Violations” in Investment and Human Rights Law

W. Michael Reisman & Mahnoush H. Arsanjani

Of late, there has been considerable discussion of the so-called prob-

lem of fragmentation in international law;1 the term itself implies that
differential treatment is pathological and resonates with normative
legal theory which tends to focus on consistency of rule formulations.
We propose to question some of the assumptions of those who have
expressed concerns about fragmented treatments in different sectors of
international law. Our subject will be statutes of limitation in interna-
tional agreements and inconsistencies in the application of the judicial
invention of the concept of “continuing violations” as a means of cir-
cumventing the limitations which time-bars were designed to impose
on the jurisdiction of third-party decisionmakers. We are happy to
have the opportunity to reflect on this aspect of fragmentation in a
publication dedicated to our dear friend, Rüdiger Wolfrum, whose
work in these and other areas has so much enriched international law.

A. Introduction

Governments operate within and must also manage complex legal sys-
tems which serve, among their other functions, as critical girders for
national political economies. The networks of expectations which their
legal systems establish and sustain are relied upon by citizens as well as
by aliens who choose to enter into or engage those systems. One of the
sources of those networks of expectations is now to be found in the
increasing number of agreements with other states for the benefit of
third parties, whether they be nationals or aliens, and especially agree-
ments which include commitments to resort to third-party decision.
Such agreements, assigning, as they do, decisional power to external

1
A Working Group of the International Law Commission (ILC) prepared a com-
prehensive report on the Fragmentation of International Law in 2006. See Report of
the ILC, UN GAOR 61st Sess., Supp. 10, UN Doc. A/61/10 (2006), Chapter XII, at 400.
266 w. michael reisman & mahnoush h. arsanjani

institutions, have the potential of affecting–sometimes significantly–

internal political and economic arrangements. Hence they are carefully
crafted by lawyers on all sides so that all the relevant parties, both
the governments who are assuming the obligations and the class of
private parties whose members are entitled to benefit from them,
may know precisely to whom they apply, to what they apply and when
they apply.
The extent of the submission to the jurisdiction of the third-
party decision makers who are empowered by these agreements is,
thus, classically analyzed in terms of the material scope of an agree-
ment (jurisdiction ratione materiae), the personal reach of an
agreement (jurisdiction ratione personae) and the temporal extent of
an agreement (jurisdiction ratione temporis). International tribunals
are bound by law and honor to faithfully implement all the jurisdic-
tional arrangements which parties establish with great care, lest their
decisions exceed the jurisdiction assigned to them, for which trans-
gression their decisions may be annulled.
Investment treaties and human rights treaties are, both, examples of
treaties in favorem tertii. Though part of the same genre, they approach
the “when they apply” question quite differently. The difference in
approach is especially striking in issues of statutes of limitations and
their relation to the category of events that are referred to as “continu-
ing violations.”

B. Intertemporal Dimensions of Investment Law

In the area of international investment law, the “when they apply”

question–or jurisdiction ratione temporis–is an artifact which is used
to implement many policies besides the comparatively simple question
of when the remit of an agreement begins to run and when it ends.
Because investment agreements are designed to encourage direct for-
eign investors to assume risks they might otherwise eschew, the “when
they end” issue is a matter of acute sensitivity. Treaties may be
denounced by a self-executing political decision but sunk capital–the
characteristic feature of much direct foreign investment–cannot simply
be picked up and carted home. Hence many investment treaties have
what are commonly referred to as “tails.” The Energy Charter Treaty,
for example, provides in Article 47 on withdrawal:
(1) At any time after five years from the date on which this Treaty has
entered into force for a Contracting Party, that Contracting Party
 reflections on the cogency of fragmentation267

may give written notification to the Depository of its withdrawal

from the Treaty.
(2) Any such withdrawal shall take effect upon the expiry of one year
after the date of the receipt of the notification by the Depository, or
on such later date as may be specified in the notification of
withdrawal.
(3) The provisions of this Treaty shall continue to apply to Investments
made in the Area of a Contracting Party by Investors of other
Contracting Parties or in the Area of other Contracting Parties by
Investors of that Contracting Party as of the date when that
Contracting Party’s withdrawal from the Treaty takes effect for a
period of 20 years from such date.
(4) All Protocols to which a Contracting Party is party shall cease to be
in force for that Contracting Party on the effective date of its with-
drawal from this Treaty.2
Bilateral investment treaties for the same reasons also provide for
“tails”.3 By contrast, investment chapters in Free Trade Agreements
(FTA’s) generally do not have tails, even though many FTA’s are termi-
nable on apparently short notice.4

2
 Energy Charter Treaty, 17 December 1994, 2080 UNTS 100, 34 ILM 360
(1995).
3
In general bilateral investment treaties to which the United States is a party
provide for a 10 year “tail”. For example, Article XIV of the bilateral investment treaty
of 1991 between Argentina and the United States provides that only after 10 years
from the entry into force of the treaty, a party may withdraw from a treaty by provid-
ing a one year notice. With respect to investments made or acquired prior to the date
of termination, the treaty remains applicable for a further period of 10 years from the
date of termination. Some other bilateral investment treaties provide for a 15-year
“tail”. For example, the 1992 bilateral investment treaty between Argentina and
the Netherlands provides for a 15 year tail. It provides in Article 15 that in respect
of investments made before the date of the termination of the present Agreement
the foregoing Articles thereof shall continue to be effective for a further period of
fifteen years from that date. Some bilateral investment treaties provide for a 20-year
“tail”. See, for example, Article 12 of the 1998 bilateral investment treaty between
France and Nicaragua.
4
Article 2205 of the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA), entitled
“Withdrawal” provides: “Any Party may withdraw from this Agreement six months
after it provides written notice of withdrawal to the other Parties. If a Party withdraws,
the Agreement shall remain in force for the remaining Parties.”
Article 22.7 of the Dominican Republic–Central America–United States Free Trade
Agreement (CAFTA-DR), entitled “Withdrawal” provides:
1. Any Party may withdraw from this Agreement by providing written notice of
withdrawal to the Depositary. The Depositary shall promptly inform the
Parties of such notification.
2. A withdrawal shall take effect six months after a Party provides written notice
under paragraph 1, unless the Parties agree on a different period. If a Party
withdraws, the Agreement shall remain in force for the remaining Parties.
268 w. michael reisman & mahnoush h. arsanjani

One of the more elusive temporal-type questions concerns when,

during the life of an agreement in favor of third parties, a claim arising
properly under it, may, nonetheless, not be brought or, in other words,
when it becomes “time-barred.” The question, we will see, ostensibly
one about time, actually turns on a variety of other policies. We fear
that those concerned about the “fragmentation of law” will shudder
when we suggest that the debate is often focused on rules without
regard to policies; investment law, we will argue, serves policies differ-
ent from human rights law and should, accordingly, treat the “when
they apply” question entirely differently.
For purposes of discussion, let us begin by looking at NAFTA
which is unusual among investment instruments in including an
explicit statute of limitations; it has, moreover, been applied by some
NAFTA tribunals. NAFTA Article 1116(2) sets a three-year statute
of limitations and stipulates that it begins to run “from the date on
which the investor first acquired, or should have first acquired, knowl-
edge of the alleged breach and knowledge that the investor has incurred
loss or damage.” In parallel for claims made on behalf of enterprises by
investors of states parties to NAFTA, Article 1117(2) provides: “An
investor may not make a claim on behalf of an enterprise […] if more
than three years have elapsed from the date on which the enterprise
first acquired, or should have first acquired, knowledge of the alleged
breach and knowledge that the enterprise has incurred loss or damage.”
An identical provision is included in Chapter 11 of the Free Trade
Agreement between South Korea and the United States (KORUS FTA),
which has been approved by South Korea but is pending approval in
the United States’ Congress. Article 11.18 of the KORUS FTA provides:
No claim may be submitted to arbitration under this Section if more
than three years have elapsed from the date the claimant first acquired,
or should have first acquired, knowledge of the breach alleged under

Article 24.5 of the South Korea- United States Free Trade Agreement (KORUS FTA)
entitled “Entry into Force and Termination” provides:
[…]
2. This Agreement shall terminate 180 days after the date either Party notifies the
other Party in writing that it wishes to terminate the Agreement.
3. Within 30 days after a Party provides notice under paragraph 2, either Party
may request the other Party in writing to enter into consultations regarding
whether any provision of this Agreement should terminate on a date later than
that provided under paragraph 2. The consultations shall begin no later than
30 days after the Party delivers its request.
 reflections on the cogency of fragmentation269

Article 11.16.1 and knowledge that the claimant (for claims brought
under Article 11.16.1(a)) or the enterprise (for claims brought under
Article 11.16.1(b)) has incurred loss or damage.5 The provision thus
establishes that the challenge of the compatibility of the governmental
measure in question with NAFTA obligations must be made within
three years of acquiring (i) knowledge of the measure and (ii) the reali-
zation that the measure carries economic cost for those subject to it.
If the challenge is not made within those three years, it is time-barred.
The Grand River tribunal succinctly explained the conditions required
to trigger Article 1116(2)’s express three-year limitations period:
Claims are barred as untimely only if the investor or enterprise:
• First acquired certain specified knowledge;
• Should have first acquired such knowledge; and
• Did so within three years of the alleged breach.
The requisite knowledge has two elements:
• Knowledge of the alleged breach, and
• Knowledge that the investor has incurred loss or damage6
In examining the “ordinary meaning” of this provision, it would seem
that it excludes so-called “continuing violations.” It would strain lan-
guage and logic to say that an investor might repeatedly “first acquire”
knowledge of the allegedly incompatible measure that constitutes the
challenged “breach”. The adjective “first” is uncompromisingly exclu-
sive: there can be only one “first time.” The more plausible textual
interpretation is that the requisite knowledge acquired is of the meas-
ure from the moment the investor appreciates that it imposes eco-
nomic costs upon it. A precise knowledge of the quantum of the
economic costs of the measure is not explicitly required; aside from
the clear language of the text, it would seem illogical to contend that it
is implied.

5
Similarly Article 10.18 of Chapter Ten (Section A) of CAFTA-DR provides:
1. No claim may be submitted to arbitration under this Section if more than
three years have elapsed from the date on which the claimant first acquired, or
should have first acquired, knowledge of the breach alleged under Article
10.16.1 and knowledge that the claimant (for claims brought under Article
10.16.1(a)) or the enterprise (for claims brought under Article 10.16.1(b)) has
incurred loss or damage.
6
Grand River Enterprises Six Nations, Ltd., et al v. United States of America, Decisions
on Objections to Jurisdiction 38 (2006).
270 w. michael reisman & mahnoush h. arsanjani

But identifying the “first time” may sometimes prove to be more

complicated: One important dynamic in the relationship between a
foreign investor and the host government is the ongoing amicable reso-
lution of differences before they emerge as conflicts. Much of business,
as well as government, is a process of problem-solving. It is therefore
possible that once an investor “first” becomes aware of a violation,
informs the host government and attempts to resolve the problem by
negotiations, the effort will be successful and end the violation.
Suppose, for example, that the government commits the same violation
more than three years after the amicable resolution of the “first” viola-
tion. Would the time bar begin from the date of the original, “first”
violation or the later violation? Or suppose that, in a negotiated
arrangement, the government agrees to other compensatory regulatory
measures to redress the loss the investor suffered from the violation.
Then three years after the settlement, the government ignores the
arrangement withholds those compensatory regulatory measures.
In our view it would be reasonable, other things being equal, to assume
that the time-bar should begin from the date of the second and not the
first violation.
An agreement, whether international or domestic, may certainly be
retroactive if the parties wish it to be so, but that is unusual. Vienna
Convention Article 28 instructs that “Unless a different intention
appears from the treaty or is otherwise established, its provisions do
not bind a party in relation to any act or fact which took place or any
situation which ceased to exist before the date of the entry into force of
the treaty with respect to that party.” NAFTA follows Article 28.
NAFTA, as Professor Jack Coe put it, is “forward looking;” it empowers
the states parties “to convene tribunals to assess responsibility for
events occurring—in the case of NAFTA—from 1 January 1994,
onward.”7 In this regard, then, NAFTA is consistent with general inter-
national law, which presumes, unless the parties to a treaty otherwise
specify, that treaties only operate prospectively.8
In Mondev v. United States, “[b]oth parties accepted that the dis-
pute as such arose before NAFTA’s entry into force, and NAFTA is not

7
J. J. Coe, Jr., The Mandate of Chapter 11 Tribunals—Jurisdiction and Related
Questions, in: Todd Weiler (ed.), NAFTA Investment Law and Arbitration: Past Issues,
Current Practice, Future Prospects, 215, at 246 (2004).
8
See also Sir R. Jennings / Sir A. Watts (eds.), Oppenheim’s International Law 1249
(9th ed. 1992).
 reflections on the cogency of fragmentation271

retrospective in effect”. The tribunal agreed9 but in an indication that

things could be more complicated than they may at first have seemed,
the tribunal reasoned that this did not mean that events preceding
1994, when NAFTA entered into force, could never be “relevant” to an
investment claim under Chapter 11. The relevance of earlier events,
however, would be limited to an evaluation of conduct after 1994:
Events or conduct prior to the entry into force of an obligation for the
respondent State may be relevant in determining whether the State has
subsequently committed a breach of the obligation. But it must be possi-
ble to point to conduct of the State after that date which is itself a breach.
In the present case the only conduct that could possibly constitute a
breach of any provision of Chapter 11 is that comprised by the decisions
of the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court and the Supreme Court of
the United States, which between them put an end to the claims of a
wholly owned limited partnership of claimant Mondev under Massa­
chusetts law. Unless those decisions were themselves inconsistent with
applicable provisions of Chapter 11, the fact that they related to pre-1994
conduct which might arguably have violated obligations under NAFTA
(had NAFTA been in force at the time) cannot assist Mondev.10
The distinction which the Mondev tribunal draws is very fine.

C. The Concept of Continuing Violations

NAFTA Article 1116(2) is a lex specialis which displaces those parts of

customary international law which might otherwise apply. But cus-
tomary international law may not be entirely excluded; the concept of
“continuing violation” may yet be relevant. The Commentary to the
ILC’s Articles on State Responsibility, its exercise in the codification
and progressive development of customary international law, empha-
sizes that “[w]hether a wrongful act is completed or has a continuing
character will depend both on the primary obligation and the circum-
stances of the given case,”11 implying that the determination is not to be
the result of a mechanical or acontextual application.
The Commission’s tentativeness and insistence on context is interest-
ing. In general international law, the concept of a continuing violation

    9
ICSID, Mondev International Ltd. v. United States of America, Award of 11 October
2002, Case No. ARB(AF)/99/2, at 57.
10
Id., at 70 (emphasis added).
11
Report of the ILC, UN GAOR 35th Sess., Supp. 10, UN Doc. A/53/10 (2001),
at 139, para. (4).
272 w. michael reisman & mahnoush h. arsanjani

has permitted courts and tribunals to make an exception to the general

principle of law that claims, which would otherwise be valid and oper-
able, may be extinguished by the passage of time; different and not nec-
essarily compatible policies are engaged here. Bin Cheng, in his classic
study, was attentive to the policy underlying the exception to statutes of
limitation. He started by explaining the raison d’être for what is vari-
ously known as “a period of repose” or “the doctrine of extinctive pre-
scription.” Ordinarily, in international law, the doctrine reflects
the concurrence of two circumstances:
1. Delay in the presentation of a claim;
2. Imputability of the delay to the negligence of the claimant.12
Delay, the first factor, Bin Cheng explains, generally “gives rise to a pre-
sumption against the existence of the alleged right,” and furthermore, a
“long lapse of time inevitably destroys or obscures the evidence of the
facts; consequently, delay in presenting the claim places the other party
in a disadvantageous position.”13
A second factor, negligence, also supplies a reason for extinctive pre-
scription because where a claimant has “suffered matters to proceed to
such a state that there would be a danger of mistaking the truth, pre-
scription operates and resolves such facts against him.”14 But here too,
as Bin Cheng stresses, the general principle is subject to the maxim
cessante ratione legis cessat ipsa lex; it “does not apply” where “these
justifying circumstances are not present.”15 And, indeed, they may not
be present in egregious human rights violations, while they are usually
present in commercial matters.
Still a third factor, one, we would add, which is often overlooked, is
an inclusive concern: delayed prosecution of claims can disrupt the
many subsequent good faith investments that may have been made by
third parties on the socially beneficial assumption that the previous
legal situation would not be changed. The mere availability of the claim
generates uncertainty as to the legal regime and undermines reliance
on it. Because, however, all of these presumptions remain factual in

12
B. Cheng, General Principles of Law as Applied by International Courts and
Tribunals, 378–79 (1953).
13
Id., at 380.
14
Id., at 381 (internal quotation marks and citations omitted; emphasis added).
15
Id., at 382.
 reflections on the cogency of fragmentation273

nature, absent an express treaty rule such as Article 1116(2) of NAFTA,

they are potentially available to a claimant and may be “rebuttable.”16

D. Intertemporal Issues in the Area of Human Rights

Human rights treaties are another species of agreements in favor of

third parties. Given the pervasive concern over fragmentation, one
might assume that the ratione temporis rules that apply to investment
agreements should also apply to them. In fact, the treatment accorded
to human rights treaties is quite different.
The ILC’s “primary obligations and circumstances” are critical to
understanding the special (and not uncontroversial) practice with
respect to continuing violations that has been developed in interna-
tional human rights law. The concept of continuing violations has been
applied to the most egregious types of international human rights vio-
lations. Both the Inter-American and European human rights systems
have adopted and elaborated the concept of continuing violations in
order to extend their jurisdiction over certain serious violations of
international human rights law that would otherwise have fallen out-
side their temporal jurisdiction. This has been done in the face of the
fact that the respective treaties in each of the regional human rights
systems appear to be prospective and not retrospective. Moreover, it is
unlikely that states parties would have adhered if they anticipated that
the instruments would apply to prior events.
In 1962, in the De Becker case, the European Commission of Human
Rights sustained its competence ratione temporis to consider Belgium’s
alleged violations of the applicant’s rights under the European
Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental
Freedoms.17 The Commission held that a provision of the Belgian Penal
Code, which restricted the applicant’s right to continue to practice
his career as a journalist based on a prior conviction for collaboration
with Nazi Germany, could be examined even though it had been
enacted before the Convention entered into force, because, the
Commission reasoned, it created “a continuing situation in respect of
which the claims to be the victim of a violation of the right to freedom

16
Id., at 381.
17
 European Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental
Freedoms, 4 November 1950, ETS No. 5; 213 UNTS 221.
274 w. michael reisman & mahnoush h. arsanjani

of expression”.18 As the European Commission put it, “the Applicant

had found himself in a continuing situation which had no doubt origi-
nated before the entry into force of the Convention in respect of
Belgium (14 June 1955), but which had continued after that date, since
the forfeitures in question had been imposed ‘for life.’”19 On the date of
the challenge, Belgium arguably continued to breach the relevant pri-
mary obligation: not to infringe the right to freedom of expression.
Although the decision was hailed as a signal victory for the human
rights system as a whole and not simply for Mr. De Becker, its purport
and implications are not entirely clear. One would have thought that
the imprescriptibility would relate to the offense and not a punishment
for it, when that punishment was applied, with the appropriate meas-
ure of due process, to an offense against human rights, i.e., to the pri-
mary obligation. Would the De Becker holding mean that every prison
sentence for an offense committed before the entry into force of the
applicable human rights treaty where the incarceration began before
the entry into force but continued thereafter now affords the prisoner
legal standing to reopen the initial pre-treaty conviction, alleging a vio-
lation of the European Convention, on the ground that the punishment
is a continuing violation? We surmise that the European Commission
could not have contemplated such a far-reaching excursion into retro-
activity and there is nothing in its subsequent jurisprudence to suggest
otherwise. Nor would the deprivation of a right to practice a profession
seem to sound in jus cogens. Perhaps the European Commission felt
that the punishment–a life-time deprivation of the right to practice
one’s vocation–was out of proportion to the crime involved. This would
have been a defensible ratio but, of course, it would have skirted the
temporal issue.
Putting these questions aside, it is clear that the jurisprudence of the
European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) has since developed the
concept to enable it to appraise, when it wishes, the compliance of
states with their primary obligations under the Convention. In Loizidou
v. Turkey, for example, the ECHR sustained its jurisdiction ratione
­temporis to consider the allegations of a Greek Cypriot woman whose

18
 European Commission on Human Rights, De Becker v. Belgium, Decision of
9 June 1958, Appl. No. 214/56, 2 Yearbook of the European Convention on Human
Rights 214, at 234.
19
 ECHR, De Becker v. Belgium, Judgment of 27 March 1962, Appl. No. 214/5, at 8
(emphasis added).
 reflections on the cogency of fragmentation275

property had been seized after Turkish troops invaded northern Cyprus
in 1974 and after the unrecognized Turkish Cypriot government had
expropriated her property by decree in 1985. Turkey did not accept the
ECHR’s jurisdiction under Article 46 of the Convention until
22 January 1990, that is some five years after the expropriation. As in
De Becker, the Court’s decision joined the continuing consequence of
the deprivation to the primary character of the right taken. But in con-
trast to De Becker, the Court looked, not to the act of expropriation, as
such (which plainly occurred in the past), but instead to Turkey’s pos-
session of the property in question. Because Turkey had no lawful right
to the property, the Court reasoned, its refusal to permit the applicant
access to and enjoyment of that property constituted a continuing vio-
lation of her property rights under the Convention.20 The reasoning
here is not the Court’s most persuasive but one notes its potential rele-
vance to questions of jurisdiction ratione temporis in international
investment disputes, whether under Protocol 1 of the European
Convention or under bilateral investment treaties.
The ECHR decision, In the Case of Agrotexim and Others v. Greece,
concerned the rights of company shareholders to peaceful enjoy-
ment of their possessions pursuant to Article 1 of Protocol 1 to the
Convention.21 In that case, the Tribunal did not complete its analysis of
the alleged “continuing violation” because it found that the applicant
companies were not entitled to apply to the Convention institutions.
But the Court indicated that successive actions may but did not always
amount to continuing violations: “A preliminary study of the case leads
the Court to conclude that it may be possible to regard the successive
actions of Athens Municipal Council as a series of steps amounting to
a continuing violation and indicating the existence of a plan by the
Municipal Council to purchase the two sites at the lowest possible

20
 ECHR, Loizidou v. Turkey, Judgment of 18 December 1996, Appl. No. 15318/89;
see also supra note 11, at 252 (collecting ECHR jurisprudence on point).
21
 ECHR, Agrotexim and Others v. Greece, Judgment of 24 October 1995, Appl.
No. 14807/89. Similarly, the Court held, in respect of claim for seizure of property
without formal expropriation eight years before Greece became party to Protocol 1 of
the European Convention, that there was a continuing violation of the right to peaceful
enjoyment of property which continued after the Protocol had come into force. The
Court upheld its jurisdiction. See ECHR, Papamichalopoulos and Others v. Greece,
Judgment of 24 June 1993, Appl. No. 14556/89.
276 w. michael reisman & mahnoush h. arsanjani

price.”22 The principle involved is the same as the one in Loizidou but
the Court appears more cautious and tentative.
In the Inter-American human rights system, the Inter-American
Commission and Court have also established that certain violations,
notably disappearances, constitute continuing violations; the legal the-
ory is that the violation of the primary obligation extends, by its nature,
for so long as the state refuses to account for the disappeared person. In
Blake v. Guatemala,23 which relies on the seminal Velázquez Rodríguez
case,24 Nicholas Blake, a journalist, and Griffith Davis, a photographer,
had been abducted in 1985, i.e., before the entry-into-force of the Inter-
American Convention for Guatemala. For the Inter-American Court
of Human Rights, this meant that they “remained disappeared […]
until the dates on which their remains were discovered.”25 The Court
reasoned, following the Report of the Inter-American Commission
and its own prior jurisprudence, that “the crime of forced disappear-
ance is an indivisible whole inasmuch as it is a continuing or permanent
crime, which extends beyond the date on which the actual death took
place in the context of the disappearance,” for it also includes the state’s
continuing unlawful conduct of concealing the victims’ whereabouts
and obstructing justice.26 These latter acts, as well as Guatemala’s
neglect of yet another primary obligation, viz., its “disregard of the duty
to organize the apparatus of the State in such a manner as to guarantee
the rights recognized in the Convention,”27 continued, in the reasoning
of the Court, for years after the initial abduction and murder of Blake
and Davis.
Loizidou and, even more, Blake make clear that the respective court’s
perception of its function entitles it to selectively trump the ordinary
default rule of prospectivity of treaties. This type of what one might call
“teleological jurisdiction” or “gravity-of-offense-driven jurisdiction”
(or “gravity-of-sanction jurisdiction” in De Becker) has also made its
appearance in international environmental disputes. In Southern Blue

22
 ECHR, Agrotexim and Others v. Greece, Judgment of 24 October 1995, Appl.
No. 14807/89, at 58.
23
IACtHR, Blake v. Guatemala, Judgment on the Preliminary Objections of 2 July
1996, Ser. C No. 36, at 1.
24
IACtHR, Velázquez Rodríguez v. Honduras, Judgment of 29 July 1988, Ser. C. No.4
(1988).
25
See supra note 23, at 52(b).
26
See supra note 23, at 54–55.
27
See supra note 23, at 65.
 reflections on the cogency of fragmentation277

Fin Tuna, for example, the tribunal found itself without jurisdiction
but went out of its way to leave open the possibility that if it had been
persuaded that the issue in dispute had been of sufficient gravity, it
might have found in favor of jurisdiction:
The Tribunal does not exclude the possibility that there might be
instances in which the conduct of a State Party to UNCLOS and to a
fisheries treaty implementing it would be so egregious, and risk conse-
quences of such gravity, that a Tribunal might find that the obligations
of UNCLOS provide a basis for jurisdiction, having particular regard
to the provisions of Article 300 of UNCLOS. While Australia and New
Zealand in the proceedings before ITLOS invoked Article 300, in the
proceedings before this Tribunal they made clear that they do not hold
Japan to any independent breach of an obligation to act in good faith.28

E. Applying the Doctrine of Continuing Violations

The pervasive application of the doctrine of continuing violations in

the context of international human rights law surely reflects a general
conviction that, unlike ordinary commercial claims that sound in con-
tract or tort, violations of certain fundamental human rights infringe
important, if not necessarily jus cogens norms of contemporary inter-
national law. Because they threaten fundamental values of individual
human life, freedom, and dignity, the general rationales for a strict
period of repose which apply in the context of international investment
claims have less force in those human rights cases.
This teleological or gravity-of-offense jurisdictional approach is
apparent not only in judgments of international human rights courts
but in various human rights legislative instruments adopted by states:
for example, the Convention on the Non-Applicability of Statutory
Limitation to War Crimes and Crimes Against Humanity29 and the UN
Declaration on the Protection of All Persons from Enforced
Disappearance.30 The preamble to the former instrument clarifies that

28
ITLOS, Southern Bluefin Tuna (New Zealand v. Japan; Australia v. Japan), Order
on Provisional Measures: reprinted in 38 ILM 1624 (1999), para. 64. Emphasis added.
29
Convention on the Non-Applicability of Statutory Limitation to War Crimes and
Crimes Against Humanity, GA Res. 2391 (XXIII) of 25 November 1968, Annex, 23 UN
GAOR Supp. 18 at 40, UN Doc. A/7218 (1968).
30
UN Declaration on the Protection of All Persons from Enforced Disappearance,
GA Res. 47/133 of 18 December 1992, 47 UN GAOR Supp. 49 at 207, UN Doc. A/47/49
(1992).
278 w. michael reisman & mahnoush h. arsanjani

it is the gravity of the violations—the nature, that is, of the relevant

primary obligation—that militates against the application of any
municipal limitations period for the prosecution of war crimes and
crimes against humanity:
Considering that war crimes and crimes against humanity are among the
gravest crimes in international law,
Convinced that the effective punishment of war crimes and crimes against
humanity is an important element in the prevention of such crimes, the
protection of human rights and fundamental freedoms, the encourage-
ment of confidence, the furtherance of co-operation among peoples and
the promotion of international peace and security,
Noting that the application to war crimes and crimes against humanity of
the rules of municipal law relating to the period of limitation for ordi-
nary crimes is a matter of serious concern to world public opinion, since
it prevents the prosecution and punishment of persons responsible for
those crimes,
Recognizing that it is necessary and timely to affirm in international law,
through this Convention, the principle that there is no period of limita-
tion for war crimes and crimes against humanity, and to secure its uni-
versal application, […]31
The Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court denies the oper-
ation of any statute of limitation for crimes under the Statute. The ani-
mating reasons are explained in the preamble:
Affirming that the most serious crimes of concern to the international
community as a whole must not go unpunished and that their effective
prosecution must be ensured by taking measures at the national level and
by enhancing international cooperation,
Determined to put an end to impunity for the perpetrators of these crimes
and thus to contribute to the prevention of such crimes.32
In the view of the framers of the Rome Statute, the crimes covered by
the Statute are of such gravity that they are not subject to any statute of
limitations. Thus Article 29 of the Statute provides for non-applicabil-
ity of statute of limitations: “The crimes within the jurisdiction of the
Court shall not be subject to any statute of limitations.” Article 29
speaks of crimes “within the jurisdiction of the Court” and though lim-
ited to the jurisdictional competence of the Court, is not without

31
Convention on the Non-Applicability of Statutory Limitation to War Crimes and
Crimes Against Humanity pmbl., GA Res. 2391 (XXIII) of 25 November 1968, Annex,
23 UN GAOR Supp. 18 at 40, UN Doc. A/7218 (1968).
32
2187 UNTS 90, the 4th and the 5th preambular paragraphs. Emphasis added.
 reflections on the cogency of fragmentation279

domestic law implications. For States parties to the Rome Statute, any
domestic statute of limitations for crimes designated in the Rome
Statute will be ineffective under the principle of complementarity.33
One of the clearest legislative examples of teleological jurisdiction is
found in Article 17 of the UN Declaration on the Protection of All
Persons from Enforced Disappearance. It provides:
1. Acts constituting enforced disappearance shall be considered a con-
tinuing offence as long as the perpetrators continue to conceal the fate
and the whereabouts of persons who have disappeared and these facts
remain unclarified.
2. When the remedies provided for in Article 2 of the International
Covenant on Civil and Political Rights are no longer effective, the stat-
ute of limitations relating to acts of enforced disappearance shall be
suspended until these remedies are re-established.
3. Statutes of limitations, where they exist, relating to acts of enforced dis-
appearance shall be substantial and commensurate with the extreme
seriousness of the offence.34
All of these instruments evidence an opinio juris.
For jus cogens norms of international human rights, then, the ration-
ales for a strict period of repose explained by Bin Cheng, in his discus-
sion of commercial matters, yield to another important policy. In the
paradigmatic case of a disappearance, for example, it is clear that the
applicant bears no responsibility for the delay in the presentation of his
or her claim; to the contrary, it is precisely because of the state’s malfea-
sance, not the claimant’s negligence, that the claim could not be pre-
sented earlier.
Moreover, if the violation caused by a forced disappearance contin-
ues, then common judicial presumptions—for example, that evidence
has become stale or that witnesses’ memories will be less reliable—may
be rebuttable; it gives way because of the gravity of the violation. Here
again, Bin Cheng’s policy-sensitive analysis is useful: “In every case,
where such circumstances [justifying extinctive prescription’s raison
d’être] exist, conformity with the principle is regarded as bringing about

33
For example, a State party to the Rome Statute, which has a domestic statute of
limitations for any of the crimes listed in the Rome Statute, cannot claim that its statute
of limitations bars it from prosecuting a person alleged to have committed a crime
under its jurisdiction and that, therefore, the ICC should, under the principle of com-
plementarity, refrain from exercising jurisdiction over that individual.
34
UN Declaration on the Protection of All Persons from Enforced Disappearance
Article 17, GA Res. 47/133 of 18 December 1992, 47 UN GAOR Supp. 49 at 207, UN
Doc. A/47/49 (1992) (emphasis added).
280 w. michael reisman & mahnoush h. arsanjani

substantive justice, while departure therefrom works injustice.”35 This is,

as legislative instruments and judicial opinions alike attest, often not
the case for violations of jus cogens norms of international human
rights law. The “continuing violation” exception reflects this fact.

F. Conclusion

Pure normativistic approaches to law are likely to find many examples

of fragmentation and the closer they look at specific areas of law–the
more granular their view–the more fragmentation they will find. Our
brief examination of the jurisdictional issues surrounding statutes of
limitation and the “continuing violations” exception in two species of
treaties in favor of third parties suggests that their respective apparent
inconsistent treatment of these issues is not a vagary but is driven by
different policies in each. An effort to secure a uniform normative
approach would disserve the authoritative policies undergirding the
one or the other and, depending on the content of the “compromise,”
perhaps both. Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, one of the founders of
American Legal Realism, said famously that “the life of the law has not
been logic; it has been experience.”36 With due respect, we would
amend that apothegm to read “not logic but policy.”

35
See supra note 12, at 386 (emphasis added).
36
O. W. Holmes, Jr., The Common Law (1881).
About the Sense and Direction of Multilateralism
in International Trade Law

Hélène Ruiz Fabri

Words belong in the ordinary toolbox of any lawyer who is trained

to play with and on them, and even, especially in international law,
to craft subtle ambiguities. When I reflected on the topic for my contri-
bution to the Liber Amicorum Rüdiger Wolfrum, what came to my mind
was to write on multilateralism, considering that Rüdiger has devoted
so much energy to the issue and is, I believe, a believer. More specifi-
cally, insofar as my reflection began to develop in my mother tongue,
I had in mind to write about Le sens du multilatéralisme, which sounded
exciting, given that the word sens is polysemous in French and thus
makes a reflection with such an orientation particularly engaging
and seductive. The word “sens” can indeed be used at the same time to
designate a direction (where is multilateralism heading?), a meaning
(what does multilateralism mean and what ideas does it embody?), if
not a sense, a feeling, if one envisages that the consciousness of multi-
lateralism could be distinguished from a political adherence to its
meaning(s). But there, I was confronted with the usual difficulty of
translating things into English, experiencing once again how much the
plurality of languages is linked to the plurality of ways of reasoning.
However, to lose the play on words did not in context mean losing the
project.

A. General Introduction

Multilateralism seems to deserve reflection because it is nowadays–and

has been for a while–called into question. This multilateralism, devised
during the last third of the nineteenth century and having made amaz-
ing progress during the twentieth, is not only subjected to great ten-
sions but is questioned. Could it be outdated? The question may look
audacious, if not excessive. Multilateralism is obviously not threatened
with disappearance, and every day indeed provides evidence that it is
very much alive. Nevertheless, it cannot escape questions that seem
correlated to the debate on fragmentation, which has unfolded in inter-
national law over the course of the past two decades.
282 hélène ruiz fabri

However, there is no doubt that this correlation ought to be further

explained, which makes it necessary to define more clearly what we are
speaking about. Dictionaries, however, do not prove particularly help-
ful, although they could be seen as key tools for moving from words to
ideas. In fact they turn out to be minimalist, if not mute. Multilateralism
is obviously not a usual word in common language. While Encarta
refers to the cooperation between nations, defining multilateralism as
“the principle or belief that several nations should be cooperatively
involved in the process of achieving a goal”, Wikipedia defines it as “a
term in international relations that refers to multiple countries work-
ing in concert on a given issue”, and the Oxford English Dictionary only
defines the word “multilateral” as meaning “Many-sided”, and “spec.
Pertaining to or concerning three or more countries, esp. of the trade
and financial agreements made by them, or of the control of arms
(part of) their armed forces by a supranational authority. Hence multi-
lateralism, the quality of being multilateral (sense 3)”. Multilateralism
thus begins when at least three participants are involved, it being
understood that a so-called restricted multilateralism is sometimes dif-
ferentiated (plurilatéralisme in French). Therefore a choice needs to be
made between two potential approaches, the first being very broad and
encompassing everything that implies more than three participants,
while the second is narrower and considers multilateralism tantamount
to something which has a universal or global–even if not effective–
purpose. The choice in favour of the second approach is to a certain
extent arbitrary, but this can be moderated by taking on board the
argument of its operativeness. Moreover, inasmuch as all this is about
sense and meaning, it can be argued that the mental process associat-
ing multilateral and global is relatively spontaneous, close to common
sense.
In a historical perspective, the development of multilateralism is
closely linked to the increasing interdependencies for the addressing of
which it provides a method, one built on the idea of defining, in the
form of common rules, common solutions for shared concerns. There
is nothing new in this idea. International rules having this feature have
existed for a long time; we have only to mention the category of ‘general
rules’. But their forms have evolved, in the sense that since the 19th
century multilateralism has developed mainly through conventions,
while such development previously used to occur mainly through
customary law. The matters considered to be calling for multilateral
regulation have multiplied, both to regulate new issues and to review
 about the sense and direction of multilateralism283

existing norms, mainly through codification–including of the law of

treaties–which evidences the importance of conventions as a tool
at the multilateral level. International law is not only and no longer a
procedural law regulating states’ relationships, but also a substantive
law regulating matters of common interest. Following a trend under
way since the 19th century, International Organizations have been and
are created in order to administer these normative sets and make
them evolve. Based on multilateral norms, this generation answers the
need–or choice?–to institutionalize coordination, if not cooperation,
as an upper level. But IOs are also a framework for continuing negotia-
tion, to the extent that nearly all multilateral instruments are nowadays
elaborated, if not concluded, under the auspices of an IO. Multilateralism
therefore turns out to be intimately linked to the institutionalization
of international affairs, including when it goes as far as to be a trend
towards jurisdictionalization.
In this context, reflecting on multilateralism logically includes IOs,
both as a subject and as a source. It also has to take into account the
evolutions of the scholarly or political discourse which accompany
these developments, notably because one of the ideas matching rather
spontaneously with the process of common solutions for common
issues–and all the more so when institutional structures seem to give
it flesh–is that of an International Community.1 Although this notion
is controversial, be it regarding its definition, its meaning or its effi-
ciency, that does not prevent it from being a common reference as well
as a justification for multilateralism. With it also comes the idea of
unity, as well as that of legitimacy. Multilateralism draws its own legiti-
macy from seeming to be the best adapted form to carry the values of
the International Community. However, this stage in the reasoning
generates new questions, particularly about the possible primacy of
multilateralism. If it carries values corresponding to common interests,
should it not be granted supremacy? The fact that the existence of com-
pulsory norms or of erga omnes obligations is most of the time linked
to multilateral rules evidences this correlation. But what values are we

1
 E. Jouannet, L’idée de communauté humaine à la croisée de la communauté des
Etats et de la communauté mondiale, 47 Archives de philosophie du droit, 191 (2003);
A. Paulus, The influence of the United States on the concept of the “International
Community”, in M. Byers / G. Nolte (eds.), United States Hegemony and the
Foundations of International Law, 57, (2003).
284 hélène ruiz fabri

speaking of? The answer looked for is not only about substance but also
about the way in which multilateralism is organized and operates. Of
course it is all about cooperation, but the terms may vary greatly, rais-
ing questions about democracy, equality, pluralism versus imperialist
or hegemonic temptations.
But, as a counterpart and a counterpoint to this global perception,
the actual landscape turns out to be peculiarly uneven. Multilateral
instruments, structures, and norms have multiplied, but this multipli-
cation does not belong to any longstanding and continuous trend
which would constitute a framework and give it consistency. The state
of affairs is of course not one of complete anarchy. But, while favouring
a functional or substantive approach which matches, regarding IOs,
with some sort of division of labour and, regarding norms, with some
sort of specialization, the issue of coordination and management of
possible overlaps has been put aside, except for a small number of gen-
eral rules the visible clarity of which is rivalled by the difficulties of
their actual implementation. Institutions and norms expand in a disor-
derly fashion, a situation which has its advantages especially in terms of
defusing tensions or contradictions, but also in terms of a splitting suit-
able for maintaining some hegemonic trends.2 Such a context indeed
makes it possible, simultaneously or successively and at least at the
same time, to meet diverging expectations. Such a situation obviously
has its limits which are emphasized by the process of globalization, first
of all because of the acuity that issues of overlapping have, and which
break down into issues of conflict of norms or institutions. Competition
does not necessarily mean conflict. Nevertheless, the management of
the various interests implied in institutional operation as well as in
lawmaking and the implementation of norms has become far more
complex, all the more so as compliance mechanisms have also multi-
plied. The way in which this complexity is echoed in legal thought is
well-known, springing up through the debate on the fragmentation of
international law.
But this complexity is also nurtured by other trends, notably
the trend that institution-making or law-making is not confined to the
multilateral sphere–understood as global–but also expands at more
restricted levels, mainly regional or bilateral. Without inducing any

2
 E. Benvenisti / G. W. Downs, The Empire’s new clothes: political economy and the
fragmentation of international law, 60 Stanford Law Review 595 (2007).
 about the sense and direction of multilateralism285

hierarchical idea, it can be said that complexity is both vertical

and horizontal, but insofar as a choice has been made in favour of a
definition of multilateralism as equating with (potential) universalism,
it may seem more appropriate to speak of internal and external com-
plexity, or endogenous and exogenous complexity.
This paper does not aim further to analyse this complexity as a
whole but to focus on a single IO, the WTO, and on its law–which
both contribute to as well as are subject to these trends and this
complexity–as a way of testing some hypotheses raised by the reflec-
tion on the fragmentation of international law–is it a mainly det­
rimental phenomenon? For whom? Under what conditions is mul-
tilateralism legitimate in this context?–and of jumping into debates
correlated with fragmentation, such as the one on the constitutionali-
zation of international law versus managerialism.3 For this purpose, the
first step will be to situate the WTO and its law within general multilat-
eralism, before analysing international trade law through the lens of
multilateralism, it being understood that this approach aims more at
raising questions than providing answers.

B. The WTO and Its Law in the Frame of Multilateralism

The WTO, which encompasses 153 members while 29 governments

are currently negotiating their accession, undoubtedly belongs to the
category of multilateral IOs and its constitution to the category of
multilateral treaties. Nevertheless, the context of its setting-up together
with its specific features, its way of functioning and its position within
multilateralism have shifted it to the forefront of the debate on the
symptoms of the fragmentation of international law. On the one hand,
it has been seen prima facie as embodying one of those self-contained
regimes that evidence the actuality of fragmentation, and although a
more detailed analysis undermines this qualification, it remains true
that the WTO enjoys an important degree of autonomy. On the other
hand, the WTO has provided the opportunity to experiment over a
rather short period of time the effects functional specialization can
have in dealing with issues of normative overlapping. One cannot
disregard the fact that it is precisely by this means that the public

3
M. Koskenniemi, The Fate of Public International Law: Between Technique and
Politics, 70 Modern Law Review 1 (2007).
286 hélène ruiz fabri

and political debate on globalization and the meanings of its law has
broken out.

I. Autonomy without Self-containment

Among the alarming symptoms of the fragmentation of international
law are notably the hypothesis of self-contained regimes4 and the so-
called ‘proliferation’ of international courts and tribunals,5 both reputed
to be able to undermine the unity of international law. The WTO was
almost naturally absorbed into those debates insofar as it might partici-
pate in the expression of both symptoms, be it due to its claimed speci-
ficity partly inherited from the GATT or to the presence of a powerful
dispute settlement system. Whatever one may think about the qualifi-
cation of this mechanism as a jurisdiction,6 it has proven powerful
enough to be considered able to contribute to the detrimental effects
of this proliferation. In fact, while it quickly turned out that speaking
of self-containment was not appropriate–the reference soon disap-
peared in the works of the ILC to the benefit of the notions of autono-
mous regimes, and later special regimes7–the specificity of the WTO is,
however, obvious. The two statements are in no way original. These are
features which are shared by most IOs and their law, although in a
more or less accentuated way. Everything depends on the balance
which is achieved.
The Appellate Body set out the absence of compartmentalization
with the greatest clarity in its very first ruling: WTO law is not clini-
cally isolated from the rest of international law.8 Even if it had not

4
See the generic analysis in B. Simma, Self-contained regimes, Netherlands
Yearbook of International Law (1985), 111; and its « aggiornamento » : B. Simma /
D. Pulkowski, Of Planets and the universe: self-contained regimes in international law,
17 European Journal of International Law 483 (2006).
5
See The Proliferation of International Tribunals: Piecing together the Puzzle,
31 New York University Journal of International Law and Politics 4 (1999).
6
 H. Ruiz Fabri, La juridictionnalisation du règlement des litiges économiques entre
Etats, Revue de l’arbitrage, 881 (2003); Dispute Settlement in the WTO: on the Trail of
a Court, in: S. Charnovitz (Ed.), Law in the service of human dignity, Essays in honour
of Florentino Feliciano, 280 (2005); Le Juge de l’OMC: ombres et lumières d’une figure
judiciaire singulière, Revue générale de droit international public, 39 (2006).
7
 In the report of the study group on fragmentation of international law to the
ILC in 2004, the President of the Working Group, Martti Koskenniemi, emphasized
that true self-contained regimes, meaning regimes completely excluding international
law, do not exist in practice. His suggestion was to speak instead of “special regimes”,
see A/CN.4/L.663/rev.1, §§ 8s.
8
United States of America–Standards for Reformulated and Conventional Gasoline,
WT/DS2/AB/R, p. 17, DSR 1996:I, p. 3 at 16: “the General Agreement is not to be read
in clinical isolation from public international law”.
 about the sense and direction of multilateralism287

explicitly made this clear, it would nonetheless have proven true,

although the idea of compartmentalization is deeply rooted in the per-
ception of the system’s players. We refer here to the–accepted–fact that
the WTO Charter negotiators did not think in terms of public interna-
tional law during the negotiations, that they were setting in stone the
trend to consider that international trade rules were specific, isolated,
due to some features traditionally attributed to international trade law
which can be summarized in the idea of under-legalization. This per-
ception lives on. Beyond the fact that even in a minimalist
way–the WTO being a very small IO–the WTO fits into the model of
IOs and benefits from the correlated legal regime in terms of headquar-
ters, immunities, agents–it manifests itself in the indecision between
the status of member-driven organization and that of rules-based
organization. The former was inherited from the GATT, and its club
mindset has for decades been part of the local mythology and keeps
being repeated as a mantra. It has in fact two dimensions. One is the
idea that trade law is not just flexible by nature but also has to be treated
flexibly, a concept which might correspond to a kind of natural prag-
matism required by economical realism. There is the long-standing
belief that pragmatism and flexibility are specific features of trade law,
essential for it to provide efficient regulation, and that the specific fea-
tures should logically leave room for diplomatic adjustment. Beyond
this, the second dimension it refers to is the idea that nothing can be
decided without an endorsement by the membership, a view which
might be confirmed by the fact that the WTO develops neither opera-
tional activities nor supposedly secondary law issued by its organs. The
only rules to be made are primary law through agreements, which may
also explain why the WTO can present itself as being first and foremost
‘a table’.9 Of course, this is not an accurate description of how things
actually work. What is certain, though, is that negotiations, if one
thinks about the rounds aiming for further liberalization, belong to the
members and that the organization as such has no power to lead. But
although most public attention is focused on these negotiations, they
represent only one of the functions of the WTO, and probably the one
in which the organization as such has less weight. This could lead to
one forgetting that the ordinary administration of the agreements,
which relies on a myriad of committees, could have a legal impact.
This impact can be added to the one resulting from the functioning of

9
http://www.wto.org/english/thewto_e/whatis_e/tif_e/fact1_e.htm
288 hélène ruiz fabri

the dispute settlement system (DSS), the prolific case law of which gen-
erates a true jurisprudence.
The strengthening of legalization which had already begun during
the transition from the GATT to the WTO does not automatically
eliminate the idea of compartmentalization, not only in its subjective
perception but also because there remains the hypothesis that the
sophistication of this legalization could favour a shift towards self-
sufficiency of WTO law. However, legalization plays more in favour of
integration than isolation, in particular because WTO law uses tech-
niques of international law and draws its validity from international
law. This rooting is necessary not only as a foundation but also for the
running of the system.
Considering the rooting, it is enough to remind one that the WTO
was created by an international treaty, which has all the features of the
constitution of an IO, which is based on the law of treaties and the prin-
ciple of pacta sunt servanda. I share M. Koskenniemi’s view according
to which a conventional system cannot be built outside the scope of
pacta sunt servanda unless it is immediately deprived of any legal
effect.10 Beyond the foundation, it turns out that since the WTO Charter
is an international treaty ruled by international law, the WTO is logi-
cally ruled by international law insofar as this has not been expressly
excluded. A panel thus stated that “[c]ustomary international law
applies generally to the economic relations between the WTO Members.
Such international law applies to the extent that the WTO treaty agree-
ments do not ‘contract out’ from it. To put it another way, to the extent
there is no conflict or inconsistency, or an expression in a covered
WTO agreement that implies differently, we are of the view that the
customary rules of international law apply to the WTO treaties and to
the process of treaty formation under the WTO.”11 The WTO is fuelled
by the usual sources of international law, it being understood that law-
making processes have to be distinguished from the issue of jurisdic-
tion and applicable law within the dispute settlement system. There is
frequent confusion of these issues, which happens all the more easily
considering the importance of the DSS, which plays the major role
regarding the openness of the WTO system to external rules and which

10
M. Koskenniemi, Fragmentation of international law: difficulties arising from the
diversification and expansion of international law, II Yearbook of the International Law
Commission (2006); UN Docs A/CN.4/L/682 and A/CN.4/L/682/corr 1.
11
Korea–Measures Affecting Government Procurement, WT/DS163/R, § 7.96.
 about the sense and direction of multilateralism289

may appear to be making political choices in this regard. This is because

the impossibility of clinical isolation has political reasons as well as
technical ones. For the latter, it is well-known that WTO law uses exter-
nal norms in several ways, such as a direct reference made by a WTO
agreement which constitutes a substantive incorporation,12 or the use
of external norms as auxiliary references which WTO can choose to
use instead of creating its own norms. This stimulates harmonization
by auxiliary means. The Agreement on the application of sanitary and
phytosanitary measures or on technical barriers to trade, for instance,
refers to international norms and standards crafted by the Codex ali-
mentarius. Moreover, the DSU prescribes the use of customary rules of
interpretation of public international law (art. 3.2), which has been a
way of taking external rules into account.13 And the case law gives evi-
dence of the use of general principles of law to solve procedural matters
not addressed by the DSU or the rules of procedure.14 However, the
substantive scope of WTO law makes compartmentalization impossi-
ble. On the contrary, there is a porosity made obvious by the mere
names of certain agreements, such as Trade-Related Aspects of
Intellectual Property Rights or Trade-Related Investment Measures.
Admittedly, the WTO is supposed to deal only with the trade-related
aspects, but this does not change the dual nature of the matters at stake.
Another piece of evidence comes from the provisions planning
cooperation with other IOs, in particular the IMF and the World Bank.
A closer look may disappoint insofar as, except for the mere existence
of agreements, the situation seems to corroborate the view that IOs are
not naturally keen to cooperate with one another. Most of the time,
cooperation does not seem to extend beyond the production of com-
mon reports from which partners are drawing some kind of legiti-
macy.15 And to be true, when looking for more effective means of

12
Thus, the tariff schedules follow the format called the Harmonized Commodity
Description and Coding System (“Harmonized System”), established by the World
Customs Organization (WCO). The TRIPS Agreement refers to the Paris Convention
for the Protection of Industrial Property, Berne Convention for the Protection of
Literary and Artistic Works, Rome Convention for the Protection of Performers,
Producers of Phonograms and Broadcasting Organizations, and Washington Treaty on
Intellectual Property in Respect of Integrated Circuits.
13
United States–Import Prohibition of Certain Shrimp and Shrimp Products, WT/
DS58/AB/R.
14
 For instance through references to the ICJ case law.
15
Such as the WTO/UNEP report on “Trade and Climate Change” (2009) or
the ILO and WTO Secretariat joint study on “Trade and Employment: Challenges
290 hélène ruiz fabri

cooperation, one has to acknowledge that the necessary tools, such as

procedures and mutual identification of empowered interlocutors, are
lacking. However, this does not mean that nothing happens, but per-
ceiving it requires the adoption of a very broad perspective which takes
into account many informal processes that reveal the functioning of
multiple networks involving at least the exchange of information, if not
creeping harmonization.16
Beyond these rather technical aspects, isolation is also impossible
for political reasons. Everything is about legitimacy and power, with all
the resulting ambiguities. The problem is set in a spiral which can be
seen either as a vicious or a virtuous. One way or the other, the dispute
settlement system is at the heart of a perspective which connects a
more or less open system, negotiated in a very liberal spirit but which
has to be implemented in an evolving context where liberalism is chal-
lenged and non-trade concerns are put to the forefront. This system
gives rise to ambivalent expectations in relation to the ability of the
dispute settlement system to ensure legal efficiency. On the one hand,
there is the fear that the DSS may be capable of becoming prominent,
without having to pretend to any kind of hierarchy, which prompts the
temptation to confine it, or else to accuse it of judicial activism. On the
other hand, the exact reverse temptation exists for the sake of the effi-
ciency of rules which might otherwise be difficult to adjudicate on, the
judge here being at risk of having his legitimacy challenged if he does
not pay his tribute to non-trade concerns.
In this context, roughly described, the stance taken in favour of
openness is all the more understandable and is not arbitrary, although
some nuances will have to be taken into account. Despite the fact that
the exclusiveness of the DSS for all matters related to WTO agreements
could nurture a trend towards autonomy,17 it remains possible to speak
of a deliberate judicial policy in favour of openness.18 However, the
nature and extent of this openness remain to be assessed.

for Policy Research” (2007), or the WHO and WTO Secretariat joint study on “WTO
Agreements and Public Health” (2002).
16
A. Lang / J. Scott, The Hidden World of WTO Governance, 20 EJIL 575 (2009).
17
P. Lamy, The Place of the WTO and its Law in the International Legal Order, 17
EJIL 969 (2006); J. Trachtmann, The domain of WTO dispute resolution, 40 Harvard
International Law Journal 333 (1999).
18
The best examples can be found in the following cases: European Communities–
Measures Affecting Asbestos and Products Containing Asbestos, WT/DS135/AB/R;
European Communities–Conditions for the Granting of Tariff Preferences to Developing
Countries, WT/DS246/AB/R; Brazil–Measures Affecting Imports of Retreaded Tyres,
WT/DS332/AB/R.
 about the sense and direction of multilateralism291

II. Specialization without Conscience?

Multilateralism is not just a legal technique. Insofar as any rule repre-
sents a choice–more or less clearly expressed but a choice nonethe-
less–it contributes to a language of values. Multilateralism therefore
relies on the belief that it is possible to identify a basis of common val-
ues. But such an abstract statement could lead one to think that there is
a single multilateralism, while the facts speak to a plurality of multilat-
eral instruments and structures. Each of them represents a gathering
point around shared values, possibly at the cost of ambiguities, but it
does not imply a global unity and common guidelines, nor a priori
contradictions. Difficulties can arise in the case of overlaps between
sets of rules. Yet, nowadays there remains hardly any issue which does
not have a trade aspect and on which, except under a specific agree-
ment, WTO law is not likely to have an impact. The WTO is logically
caught up in the debates relating to these issues, which are multiplying.
An emblematic example results from the measures fighting climate
change and, more generally, measures devoted to protecting the envi-
ronment and/or health. There are others, such as cultural diversity,
which increase our awareness of belonging to a very diverse world with
numerous requests for recognition and which raise issues of values.
The more intrusive international law becomes the more important
issues of values become, with the difficulties pertaining to the identifi-
cation of the admissible criteria for differentiation. This is one of the
major challenges to multilateralism and one of the reasons why multi-
lateral organizations are not on the crest of global governance. Indeed,
a double constraint is arising, one about providing a global solution to
global problems although the institutional and normative landscape is
segmented, the other about leaving some margins for expressing diver-
sity. In this context, one of the questions addressed to the WTO as a
multilateral framework is, on the one hand, to identify the values it
promotes and, on the other hand, the extent to which it is adapted to
take into account values promoted by other multilateral systems. This
is because openness does not result naturally in an easy and broad
mutual consideration.
Although the WTO is not just about liberalizing trade, it is this
aspect that it is commonly perceived. Moreover, one can wonder
whether stressing that it is not just about liberalizing trade is not a
communicational answer to the reproach of incarnating a soulless lib-
eralism. In fact, the arrival to the forefront of linkage issues also marks
the return to the forefront of politics–politics one could claim were
292 hélène ruiz fabri

swept away when liberalism triumphed due to the solutions it suppos-

edly offered. The myth of the possible separation of economics from
politics is formally fuelled by the prohibition on international eco-
nomic organizations from engaging in any political activities and,
therefore, from turning anything other than economic considera-
tions into a criterion for their action. Supposedly an aspect of non-
interference in internal affairs or respect for the reserved domain, this
prohibition tends to make us forget how much the WTO’s normative
activities, and the development of international economic law in gen-
eral, have a modelling effect on states, according to a model that has
evolved, which belies its objective character.
More broadly, this has in particular opened the door to managerial-
ism, which fits very well with the abovementioned claims of flexibility
and pragmatism. The desire is still strong to apply it as the method for
treating linkage issues, but this does not exhaust the claim of moraliz-
ing international economic law or introducing an ethical dimension.
This claim is expressed in the omnipresent concepts of security, pre-
dictability, and transparency, but it also includes the idea of shared
responsibilities. This is of course a way of emphasizing that states are
not the only normative bodies, but it also represents a rejection of cer-
tain partitions or categorizations. This undoubtedly leads back to the
very idea of interdependence, but in a more comprehensive vision
which allows the raising of the issue of a common interest of the human
community, which would be the guiding thread. In a way, the issue is
the quest for globalization’s compass, in order to make it true
globalization.
Awareness was raised more than three decades ago when environ-
ment protection concerns arose, when the realization hit that the
environment was more than just a resources tank, and that it was
not inexhaustible. Along with this awareness came concepts such as
sustainable development, its syncretism clearly indicating that the
problems are inseparable.19 Development must therefore not be con-
sidered exclusively in economic terms, but also in environmental
and social terms. This is what the Millennium Development Goals
sought to translate into more operational goals, incidentally raising the

19
 H. Ruiz Fabri / L. Gradoni (dir.), La circulation des concepts en droit interna-
tional de l’environnement entre mondialisation et fragmentation, Ed. de la Société de
législation comparée (2009).
 about the sense and direction of multilateralism293

fundamental issue of knowing for whom we want to produce ever more

growth, riches, and prosperity. But setting out such goals, which has
become an imperative of political correctness, in most of the texts now
adopted does not necessarily produce operative results. Stating that it is
essential to reconcile various goals and possibly specifying that this
must be done proportionately does not provide the terms of such rec-
onciliation. And yet, one might think that these are essential political
decisions, but they are out of reach as a priori choices, undoubtedly
because taking responsibility for choices with short term costs (such as
protecting the environment or promoting social norms) in the name of
middle- and long-term gains is difficult. Such choices are therefore
postponed to the concrete implementation phase.
In such conditions, it is significant that the legal issues of linkages are
raised before the judges and it is in this regard meaningful that the
cases at stake are the best-known, even if they are not very numerous.
These issues arose mainly through the implementation of exceptions,
considering that WTO law is conceived so as to provide the members
with the possibility to escape their trade commitments for reasons
which are considered legitimate, such as health, environment or public
morality protection, by means of exceptions. The rule of the game is
nevertheless that this safety valve in the system is not to be released for
the benefit of protectionism. But the temptation of protectionism is
constant, although fundamental social issues are raised at the same
time and through this means. This calls for two remarks. The first is
that, whether we like it or not, this puts judges in the position of mak-
ing political decisions, a position for which they feel more or less capa-
ble of taking responsibility. In fact, the Appellate Body faced them
openly, in the same way as supreme courts do, without hesitating to
make choices of a political nature, implied by the fact that they were
seised of issues which political authorities did not face in a clear way.
Trade-related case law indicates that the Appellate Body has a relatively
clear judicial policy in favour of recognizing the legitimacy of measures
which protect the environment or health but are detrimental to trade
commitments. In this regard, the reference to sustainable development
in the preamble to the WTO Charter provided justification for an
updated interpretation of WTO law in the light of developments in
international environmental law. At the same time, the Appellate Body
chose not to consider that its task was systematically to ensure the
primacy of trade commitments. This is translated into the highly sym-
bolic statement according to which the use of exceptions by the WTO
294 hélène ruiz fabri

members is a right20 and that exceptions are therefore not to be inter-

preted restrictively.
However, one should not be over-optimistic. The temptation has
been to bring the treatment of so-called “trade and …” issues before the
WTO judge on the grounds that it is powerful and able to impose its
prescriptions, but this is inconsistent with the fact that the WTO judge
is above all in charge of applying trade law. Legal asymmetries there-
fore still exist and are, at best, reduced, for the sake of a concern for
balance which is part of a general context where courtrooms have
become places for public debate, where all those who have a concern to
express wish to be listened to.
Whatever one may think of the results of these processes, they show
that a language of values is not alien to the WTO and that there is some
evidence of a contribution to global legal governance. Certain cases
such as US–Shrimp, EC–Tariff Preferences and Brazil–Retreated Tyres
encourage this, even without losing a critical vision and all the more so
as judicial decisions are always contemplating the past although the
jurisprudential claim is turned toward the future. In any event, this
cannot change in depth the nature and trends of the system. This is also
visible in the attempts to involve WTO law within the debate about the
constitutionalization of international law, although they are diverse as
well as ambiguous.21
But although a provisional conclusion could be that WTO law fol-
lows the lines of multilateralism and participates in it, it remains to be
assessed to what extent multilateralism is a leading force within inter-
national trade law in general.

C. Multilateralism within International Trade Law

The issue deserves to be addressed from two aspects. First, because the
multilateral nature of the WTO has to be distinguished from the nature

20
United States–Import Prohibition of Certain Shrimp and Shrimp Products, WT/
DS58/AB/R, § 159.
21
 For various views see for instance R. Howse / K. Nicolaidis, Legitimacy through
“Higher Law”? Why constitutionalizing the WTO is a step too far?, in: T. Cottier /
P. C. Mavroidis (eds), The Role of the Judge in International Trade Regulation–
Experience and Lessons for the WTO, 307 (2003); D. Z. Cass, The Constitutionalization
of the World trade organization–Legitimacy, democracy, and community in the inter-
national trading system (2005); E.-U. Petersmann, Constitutionalism and WTO law:
Form a state-centered approach towards a human rights approach in international
economic law, in: P. C. Mavroidis / A. O. Sykes, The WTO and International trade law/
dispute settlement, 641 (2005).
 about the sense and direction of multilateralism295

of WTO obligations. At a minimum, there are some ambiguities.

Second, because due to the dazzling development of free trade agree-
ments (FTA), international trade could seem to be under the threat of
fragmentation with a multilateral law which is in the process of being
marginalized.

I. Ambiguity of Multilateral Trade Law

WTO law is unquestionably a multilateral system. The conclusions
reached above are partly based on this premise. Nevertheless, this
premise has to be completed in the light of the nature of WTO obliga-
tions. More precisely, the hypothesis to be considered is that although
the frame is multilateral, WTO obligations as such would be bilateral
in nature.22 The distinction between multilateral and bilateral obliga-
tions has been elaborated in the context first of the codification of the
law of treaties, then of the codification of the law of responsibility. The
idea that WTO obligations as such would be bilateral in nature is not
shocking, in the sense that it is rather common that the legal relation-
ships deriving from a multilateral treaty can be divided into sets of
bilateral relationships. It corresponds to the idea of a treaty of the recip-
rocating type–often exemplified by the 1961 Vienna Convention on
Diplomatic Relations–as opposed by G. Fitzmaurice23 to that of the
integral type, generally exemplified by the 1948 Genocide Convention.
It also corresponds to the idea of divisible obligations versus indivisible
obligations, which leads to the applicable legal regime. The legal regime
of multilateral obligations, be they understood as pure erga omnes obli-
gations or more restrictively as erga omnes partes obligations which are
“owed to a group of States … and … established for the protection of a
collective interest of the group”,24 implies that each state has a right to
claim compliance by any other state, regardless of any material or tan-
gible interest. Technically speaking, it has consequences regarding
standing as well as what can be asked for (reparation, compensation,
etc.) and the right to adopt counter-measures.

22
J. Pauwelyn, The Nature of WTO obligations, Jean Monnet Working Paper 1/02
(2001); J. Pauwelyn, A Typology of Multilateral Treaty Obligations: Are WTO
Obligations Bilateral or Collective in Nature?, 14 EJIL 907 (2003).
23
G. Fitzmaurice, Second Report on the Law of Treaties, Yearbook of the
International Law Commission (1957), A/CN.4/107, 54–55.
24
 ILC’s Final Draft Articles on State Responsibility, Art. 48, para. 1(a), Yearbook of
the International Law Commission (2001), A/CN.4/SER.A/2001/Add.1 (Part 2),
29–30.
296 hélène ruiz fabri

Here, hints converge on the conclusion that WTO obligations are

mainly bilateral and divisible. Nevertheless, two kinds of ambiguities
blur this conclusion and indicate a more contrasted face of WTO law.25
First, WTO law includes obligations which belong to a legal regime
that is different from that of bilateral obligations, such as prohibited
subsidies under the Agreement on Subsidies and Countervailing
Measures (SCM) and obligations deriving from the General Agreement
on Trade in Services (GATS). Both agreements include special rules
about dispute settlement, but without the slightest reference to even a
mere presumption relating to the nullification or impairment of bene-
fits that would harm the complainant. It is enough for the complainant
to claim a breach of the rules by the respondent. It does not matter if
the claim is issued by members who consider themselves to be preju-
diced by the measure at stake. The rationale of the legal regime attached
to prohibited subsidies is thus based on the idea that some subsidies are
so harmful that there is a collective or common interest in making
them disappear as soon as possible, and that each and every WTO
member can be the bearer of this interest. Here, coherence can be
found with the fact that the member undertaking the task of being the
complainant can afterwards be allowed to take countermeasures
amounting to the whole of the damage caused by a prohibited subsidy
maintained despite a ruling against it, regardless of the individual prej-
udice to the complainant.26 WTO members therefore chose to add to
some provisions a legal regime close to that of obligations erga omnes
partes. It has nonetheless to be admitted that the difference from other
obligations is not so easy to make out, insofar as the legal regime of
bilateral or divisible obligations entails some specificities, which is the
second kind of ambiguity that needs to be pointed out. The first ambi-
guity lies in the lack of necessity for a legal interest in bringing proceed-
ings as a condition of admissibility (the complainant does not have to
prove that he has a direct or even legitimate personal interest to pro-
tect), together with the absence of any consideration for damage.
Admittedly, in Bananas, the Appellate Body found no trace of a legal

25
 T. Gazzini, The legal nature of WTO obligations and the consequences of their
violation, 17 EJIL 723 (2006).
26
US–Tax Treatment for ‘Foreign Sales Corporations’, Art. 22(6) Arbitration, WT/
DS108/ARB, § 5.39. Nevertheless, any conclusion has to remain cautious inasmuch as
it is only in this case that the arbitrators effectively allowed the claimant an amount of
counter-measures tantamount to the whole of the damage resulting from the subsidy
at stake.
 about the sense and direction of multilateralism297

interest requirement.27 Nevertheless, it also noted that this did not set-
tle the question of standing and that certain provisions gave guidance
on how standing should be determined.28 Having considered Article
XXIII:1 of the GATT29 together with Article 3.7 of the Dispute
Settlement (DSU),30 the Appellate Body then concluded that Members
have broad discretion in deciding whether to bring a case, although the
texts call for great discipline31 which remains a “largely self-regulating”
obligation, so that a Member bringing an action should be presumed to
have duly examined its potential success.32 Theoretically, this presump-
tion may be questioned, but in practice it is virtually impossible to
rebut owing to the extremely comprehensive way in which the direct or
indirect nullification or impairment of benefits is conceived, since in its
determination not only trade volumes but also prospective competitive
relations can be taken into account. The same conclusion arises regard-
ing the stipulation of Article 3.8 of the DSU that “there is normally a
presumption that a breach of the rules has an adverse impact on other
Members parties to that covered agreement, and in such cases, it shall
be up to the Member against whom the complaint has been brought to
rebut the charge”. The precise subject of the rebuttal–the infringement
of the law or injury–is not made clear, but the main point is whether it
is enough to show that the measure in question is not causing any
injury in order to validate it. This is possible in theory but infeasible in
practice, due to the understanding of nullification or impairment of
benefits mentioned above. Therefore, from a purely practical point of

27
 Either in the DSU or in the form of a general principle that applied where the texts
were silent. European Communities–Regime for the Importation, Sale and Distribution
of Bananas, WT/DS27/AB/R, § 132.
28
 Id., § 133.
29
 Which extends dispute settlement to the case in which “any contracting party
[considers] that any benefit accruing to it directly or indirectly under this Agreement
is being nullified or impaired or that the attainment of any objective of the Agreement
is being impeded …”
30
According to which “before bringing a case, a Member shall exercise its judge-
ment as to whether action under these procedures would be fruitful”.
31
European Communities–Regime for the Importation, Sale and Distribution of
Bananas, WT/DS27/AB/R, § 135.
32
 Id. § 136. In this particular instance, the Appellate Body said it was satisfied that
the United States was justified in bringing its claims and referred, in particular, to “a
potential export interest” by the United States as a basis for acknowledging its right to
bring a case. But see also Mexico–Anti-dumping Investigation of High Fructose Corn
Syrup (HFCS) from the United States. Recourse to Article 21.5, WT/DS132/RW, § 74,
according to which a panel does not have to consider this assessment nor question it on
its own authority.
298 hélène ruiz fabri

view, there do not seem to be major differences between cases brought

about bilateral obligations and ones brought about indivisible obliga-
tions as referred to above. In any event, the openness of the dispute
settlement system contributes to the blurring of the distinction. The
same could be said about countermeasures in the sense that they are
not only under multilateral scrutiny but also explicitly aim at obtain-
ing, beyond the respect for rules, the restoration of the global balance
designed through the negotiations. However, although these features
increasingly give ground to the idea of common disciplines, it remains
true that WTO members can escape their commitments when they
decide to participate in preferential agreements. Depending on the
number and scope of these agreements, the multilateral trend could be
undermined.

II. Fragmentation of International Trade Law?

Following a dynamic which has developed since the 1980s and has
picked up speed during the past fifteen years, what the WTO calls
regional trade agreements (RTA) have multiplied. This category
includes bilateral agreements as well as plurilateral ones, customs
unions as well as free-trade areas. Whereas there was an average of a
hundred in 1995, at least three times that number have been negotiated
or concluded since then (371 notified, of which 193 are in force in
201033) and there is no longer a single WTO member which is not party
to at least one of these agreements, more often several. The multiplica-
tion of these agreements, which most of the time have a substantive
scope extending beyond trade to investment, can be perceived as pre-
cursory of–optimistic interpretation–or a substitute for–pessimistic
interpretation–the multilateral agreement the potential profits of which
appear hardly decisive in case of comparison with the previously men-
tioned bilateral agreements.
The related question which arises is whether this is a threat or a
complement to multilateralism.34 The situation is confused and con­
sequently difficult to evaluate. On the one hand, everything looks as
if states were from now on seeking through the bilateral or regional,

33
 RTA database at http://rtais.wto.org/UI/PublicMaintainRTAHome.aspx
34
 R. Baldwin / P. Low (eds), Multilateralizing Regionalism: Challenges for the
Global Trading System (2009); B. Remiche / H. Ruiz Fabri (dir.), Le commerce interna-
tional entre bi et multilatéralisme (2010).
 about the sense and direction of multilateralism299

if not inter-regional, route a liberalization of exchanges which is out

of reach at the multilateral level. Incentives are lacking in the sense
that, in addition, most of the interest in liberalization is localised,
considering that it has a practic impact on a trade which unfolds mainly
at the regional level–except in some sectors of services, but there is
reluctance to liberalize at the multilateral level. In these conditions,
and not just because the balance of power–or of solidarity–is easier in
a limited area, the regional/bilateral level seems more appropriate for
liberalization.
In addition, the big players’ behaviour plays its role. They spark off
the negotiation of numerous RTAs because they expect–and most of
the time manage–to obtain at this level, together with a privileged
political relationship, what they do not manage to obtain at the WTO.
Thus, the negotiation of several agreements by the European Union as
well as by the US has been highly controversial. The issue is multifac-
eted. It is easy to put forward the imperialistic aspect which profits
from imbalances in power to force degrees of liberalization possibly
harmful to the interests of the weaker party. Moreover, most of such
agreements contain provisions laying down some sort of democratic or
social conditionality which corresponds to a political project. This said,
there are more and more RTAs between developing countries. The
imperialistic interpretation has consequently to be partly overridden,
or at least the idea that this trend will emanate exclusively from devel-
oped countries.
However, this multiplication of RTAs, which promote preferences
between their members, weakens the leading principle of the WTO,
namely non-discrimination. This one still covers a weighty number of
exchanges, but between a small number of countries,35 and it is well-
known that the conclusion of US-EU RTAs will have as its major effect
the marginalization of non-discrimination as the pivotal common dis-
cipline of the WTO. At the same time, it should not be forgotten that as
a matter of principle RTAs are admissible and considered compatible
with WTO law, and thus benefiting from the exception regime allowed
by it only to the extent that they satisfy certain conditions, notably to
increase the liberalization of trade between their members while not
introducing new barriers to third parties.

35
The Future of the WTO, WTO, 2005.
300 hélène ruiz fabri

If these conditions are enforced, RTAs ought rather to have an

anticipatory role, or at least ought not to contradict the global logic
of the system. Nevertheless the review that the RTA Committee is
supposed to perform remains incomplete due to the lack of agreement
on the way to operate it. The devil is in the procedures… Instead of
openly and up front opposing a review which has been accepted
as a matter of principle for showing respect to WTO law, it is easier
to prevent it from functioning properly, and one way to do this is to
extend the time for reaching an agreement on procedures. The best
achievement so far occurred in 2006 when the General Council estab-
lished, on a provisional basis, a new transparency mechanism for
all RTAs. This mechanism provides for the early announcement of
any RTA and notification to the WTO, and the WTO Secretariat
makes a factual presentation on the basis of which the Members con-
sider the agreement at stake.36 This is already a success considering the
opacity of negotiations in this field, which provokes reactions by the
civil society.
This abundance of RTAs and their entanglement has led someone to
speak of a ‘spaghetti bowl’ (Jagdish Bhagwati). And there lies one of the
major difficulties resulting from these numerous agreements, inas-
much as they are not crafted according to a pre-existing model. This
does not ease the economic operators’ lives–notably due to the varia-
bility of rules of origin–and it is therefore not impossible for these
operators to generate some pressure to return to multilateralism as a
source of legal and economic security and as a simplifying factor. This
way back would be both simple and complicated. Simple according to
the hypothesis that the current situation corresponds to a kind of divi-
sion of labour which would from then on position liberalization at the
level where it is easiest to obtain, whatever the reasons (geographical
proximity, balance of powers, etc.), while keeping regulation at the
global level. Some evidence of this hypothesis could be found in the
fact that most of the RTAs duplicate or refer substantively to WTO law
in certain chapters. Regulation remains essentially global, in the sense
that RTAs do not diverge noticeably from WTO law as far as major
disciplines (non-tariff barriers, antidumping or antisubsidies rules,
etc.) are concerned. In this perspective, the regulatory function of

36
 Transparency Mechanisms for RTAs, Decision of 14 December 2006 WT/L/671,
18 December 2006.
 about the sense and direction of multilateralism301

the WTO seems to be growing, including through the judicial branch.

This is all the more true considering that WTO members do not hesi-
tate to play both ways depending on their interests, for instance by
turning to the WTO dispute settlement system where the regional way
does not suit them.37
But the optimistic hypothesis runs up against the idea that the lack
of any regulatory development at the WTO generates a significant risk
that the various levels of agreements will drift too far apart from each
other and that multilateral law will be marginalized, while systemic
issues such as ‘trade and’ issues (trade and environment, trade and
health, trade and human rights, etc.) are raised. This risk is reinforced
by the fact that numerous RTAs have very wide scope, more and more
often mingling trade and investment and thus raising the question of
the multilateral missing link.
The WTO should indeed face such an issue. Deciding if it should be
the place for negotiating a multilateral agreement is controversial. The
failure of the Multilateral Agreement on Investment in 1998 could have
rung the death knell for a multilateral agreement, but the issue sporadi-
cally returned, linked to the expansion of an abounding and chaotic
investment arbitration case law, which increasingly has to deal with
systemic issues. In this regard, the WTO and its dispute settlement sys-
tem are sometimes viewed as a model to be followed.
On the other hand, whether we like it or not, trade and investment
are more and more clearly connected, especially in the field of services
where it is obvious that regulation cannot be developed without deal-
ing, among others, with investment issues. This could account for the
difficulties in negotiations. In fact, these are fields where norms and
regulation are more and more intrusive, producing effects on numer-
ous branches of domestic laws such as the law of property, environ-
ment law, labour law, judicial organization, etc.,38 and reducing the
regulatory autonomy of states and therefore their margin for policy
choices.
However, the situation is constantly evolving. The balances between
countries are shifting, law and jurisprudence are made, and unsolved
but effective processes are developing. This illustrates a process of
globalization which is more and more interpreted as sparking off

37
Mexico–Tax Measures on Soft Drinks and Other Beverages, WT/DS308/AB/R.
 R. Dolzer / C. Schreuer, Principles of international investment law (2008).
38
302 hélène ruiz fabri

joint or transverse logics of state and market, of public and private.

These hybrid phenomena, in which opaque transfers of authority
which appear to be difficult to apprehend are created, render an open
approach necessary, where it is important to locate multilateralism as a
compass, as precisely illustrated by the WTO.
 Where Should Nefertiti Go? Reflections on
International Cultural Law

Peter-Tobias Stoll*

The recent demand of the director of Egypt’s Supreme Council of

Antiquities (SCA), Hawass, to return1 Nefertiti is a welcome opportu-
nity to address issues of international cultural law in a liber amicorum
for Rüdiger Wolfrum. This is so, because Rüdiger Wolfrum is a con-
naisseur of fine arts. Being a born Berliner, he always has been close to
the Berlin museums. However, to the more, as a legal scholar and prac-
titioner, he has extensively dealt with the law of the sea and particularly
the deep seabed as well as with Antarctica and international environ-
mental law. In all these areas of international law, the question of a
proper allocation of the objects at hand, its uses, related claims and
responsibilities is the key issue. One of his inspiring and lasting achieve-
ments in this regard has been to show, that such allocation issues are
closely linked to the idea of cooperation2 and solidarity, both in view of
the procedures to apply to get to a solution of the matter as well as in
view of substance. As will be shown, such approaches are also called for
in the area of international cultural law. International cultural law can
be considered to comprise the rules, procedures and institutions, which
deal with cultural objects, their allocation, protection, transfers and
uses. It mainly builds on a rich body of treaty rules and custom as well
as on the activities of UNESCO.

* This paper has been elaborated in the context of research within the
Interdisciplinary Research Group on Cultural Property (FOR 772) of the German
Research Foundation. The interdisciplinary input of Regina Bendix and Brigitta Häuser
Schäublin is gratefully acknowledged. Likewise I am indebted to Oliver Ückert and
Sven Missling for support.
1
In international cultural law a “distinction is made between return of illegally
exported material and restitution of material stolen from ist owner in the traditional
sense of criminal law.”, J. Nafziger, Chapter 2, in: J. Nafziger / T. Scovazzi (eds.), The
Cultural Heritage of Mankind, 145, 200 (2008).
2
R. Wolfrum, Cooperation, International Law of, in R. Wolfrum (Ed.), The Max
Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law, Oxford University Press, 2008,
online edition, [www.mpepil.com], visited on 15 January 2011.
304 peter-tobias stoll

A. The Nefertiti Case

Lately, the Egypt Supreme Council of Antiquities and its chief have
demanded both formally and in the press the return of Nefertiti3–more
precisely the 3400 years old bust of queen Nefertiti, whife of pharaoa
Akhenaton which today is in the custody of the Neues Museum,
which itself is run by the Prussian Cultural Heritage Foundation
(Stiftung Preußischer Kulturbesitz). The bust is considered an excep-
tionally valuable object. It is one of the main attractions of the Neues
Museum, which counts more than a million visitors a year. The bust
has been discovered in 1912 at a place called Tell al-Amara about 275
km South of Kairo in an expedition led by the German egyptologist
Ludwig Borchardt.4 After the termination of the excavations, officials
of the Egypt Supreme Council of Antiquities and Borchardt distributed
the more than 150 objects on a “take half of it basis” as has been pre-
scribed by legislation in force at those times.5 In substance, the Egyptian
demand is based on the allegation, that Borchardt fraudulently hided
away the bust among other objects in order to prevent the officials of
the supreme council to claim the bust. German officials to the contrary
maintain that the division of objects have been correct.

I. Who Owns Nefertiti?

The current discussion of course suggests asking, who owns Nefertiti.
This question has already been asked a number of times and it even
became the title of the book.6 As we will see the term “ownership”
hardly reflects the variety of different legal aspects involved in the case.
However, it is a good starting point for an analysis, if we understand
“ownership” as a reference to property.

3
See for details “Staatsminister Neumann: Nofretete bleibt definitiv in Berlin”,
Ausschuss für Kultur und Medien, Pressemitteilung des Deutschen Bundestages (press
release of the German Federal Parliament) and Antwort der Bundesregierung auf eine
Kleine Anfrage, Bundestagsdrucksache (Bundestag printed paper) BT Drs. 16/6704, 12
October 2007 and K. Siehr, The Beautiful One Has Come–To Return, in: J. Merriman
(Ed.), Imperialism, Art and Restitution, 135 (2006).
4
For further information on the expedition, see L. Borchard, Porträts der Königin
Nofretete, 44. Wissenschaftliche Veröffentlichung der Deutschen Orient-Gesellschaft
(1923).
5
Loi no 14 du 12 juin 1912 sur les antiquites, Art. 11, in: A. Khater, Le regime
juridique des fouilles et des antiquites en Ègypte, 286 (1960).
6
R. Mußgnug, Wem gehört die Nofretete? (1977). Actually, the mentioned book
delves into a dispute between the Federal Republic of Germany (FRG) and the German
Democratic Republic (GDR), concerning the ownership of Nefertiti’s bust.
 where should nefertiti go?305

1. A Property Entitlement
Indeed, in the very beginning, when Nefertiti was buried in the sands
275 km South of Kairo, it can be said to have been subject to an entitle-
ment of the State at hand. The issue, however, becomes complicated
already at this stage, because the place where Nefertiti was found
belonged to the Ottoman Empire at the time and furthermore was
under British Colonial rule. It should be added, that French officials
acted on behalf of the Supreme Council of Antiquities.7
Such property right, however, might have been passed on to the
German expedition team or possibly to Ludwig Borchardt in person.
At this point the divergent views about the circumstances of the divi-
sion of proceeds from the excavations come into play. Apparently there
is agreement, that the bust has been present on site, when the distribu-
tion of the spoils of the expedition took place and was thereafter
shipped to Germany. The parties however disagree as to what the offi-
cials of the council of antiquities did know about the identity, value and
quality of the Nefertiti bust and how far their perception has been the
result of a false statement or other acts of the expedition team.
The legal question, which arises at this point is, what impact a poten-
tial misconduct on the side of the expedition team and a resulting error
on the side of the officials of the council of antiquities would have had
on the transfer of property. Under the res sitae rule as the major princi-
ple of conflicts of laws, this question would very likely has to be
answered on the basis of property law in force at the time of the event
in the respective area.8
Likewise, the question arises, whether the further transfers on the
German side resulted in the establishment of a property entitlement
and the consequential loss of such property on the Egyptian side. As far
as it is known, on return, Ludwig Borchardt passed on the bust to James
Simon, in Berlin, who had financed the expedition. He displayed the
object at his home for sometime before eventually donating it to
the Berlin museum. After World War II, the property entitlement in
the bust was transferred to The Stiftung Preußischer Kulturbesitz by

7
 According to Siehr (note 2),139, a French offical named Gustave Lefevre partici-
pated in the distribution of the spoils of the excavations on behalf of the Supreme
Council of Antiquities.
8
F. Kienle / M.-P. Weller, Die Vindikation gestohlener Kulturgüter im IPR, 4 Praxis
des Internationalen Privat- und Verfahrensrechts 290 (2004).
306 peter-tobias stoll

statute.9 Afterwards, the property of the bust has been in dispute

between the two German States, prior to German reunification.10
According to the res sitae the law to govern these transactions would be
German law. Under certain conditions, under German law, an entity or
person could acquire bona fide property of an object. If it turned out,
that the Egyptian side has lost the entitlement to the bust, claims could
be brought before German courts on a breach of agreement, unjustified
enrichment or tort. However, the German statutes of limitation would
have to be kept in mind, which require a claim to be brought within 30
years.11

2. A Public Law Entitlement

However, on a second level, we may imagine some sort of a public law
entitlement on the Egyptian side. Indeed, many States have a special
regime at hand to govern cultural objects, which are considered to be
of national cultural significance. These regimes often entail an overrid-
ing entitlement of the State or some public entity or they simply block
the export of an object and/or order the invalidity of any transaction in
the case.12 Such rules might have resulted in the existence of a public
entitlement on the bust in Egypt. However, to date neither side claims,
that such an entitlement existed. Germany is confident, that transfer
of property to the bust has taken place in accordance with legislation
and agreement, whereas the Egyptian official Hawass is mainly con-
cerned with a potential misconduct of Borchardt in the division of the
spoils.
In order to have an impact on the Egyptian demand, such ruling
would have to be acknowledged internationally. However, normally,
such national public law acts have no impact in another State and fail
to determine the status of or the legal circumstances of an object when
it has been moved outside the jurisdiction of the respective State. Thus,
in the end, any historical rules on cultural property applicable in Egypt

9
Gesetz zur Errichtung einer Stiftung “Preußischer Kulturbesitz” und zur
Übertragung von Vermögenswerten des ehemaligen Landes Preußen auf die Stiftung
in der Fassung vom 25.7.1957, zuletzt geändert durch Dienstrechtsneuordnungsgesetz
vom 5.2.2009, Bundesgesetzblatt I 160 (2009).
10
See R. Mußgnug (note 5).
11
K. Siehr (note 2) 139.
12
K. Odendahl, Kulturgüterschutz, 438 (2005).
 where should nefertiti go?307

are likely to fail to basically put into question the above-mentioned

conclusions.
State of origin determinations of the property status of an object
would only have to be recognized by third States in the rare cases of a
res extra commercium. The res extra commercium doctrine implies that
certain objects can be determined by a State to be not a subject of prop-
erty law. The legal consequences of the qualification of an object as res
extra commercium would imply, that no property titles to the said
object could be established or transferred. In addition to its national
law implications, the res extra commercium doctrine is also sometimes
considered to form part of international law in the sense, that the legal
status of such object has also to be acknowledged by third States. The
application of the res extra commercium doctrine to cultural objects has
sometimes been proposed in scholarly debate.13 However, under exist-
ing international law to date, it has no legal basis.

II. Lessons Learnt: The 1970 UNESCO Convention

This short overview about the legal aspects and implications of the
Egyptian demand is highly unsatisfactory. As a number of important
factual and legal information are missing, any attempt to find out about
the merits of the Egyptian claim are highly speculative. It can be
assumed, that in many cases eminent cultural objects have a similar
history of transactions.14 In order to prevent legal uncertainties and
resulting tensions between States of the kind experienced in the
Nefertiti case a Convention on the Means of Prohibiting and Preventing
the Illicit Import, Export and Transfer of Ownership of Cultural
Property was adopted by UNESCO in 1970.15 The Convention is appli-
cable for a number of objects, which are considered a “cultural prop-
erty”. In Article 4, the Convention furthermore defines, under which
condition such cultural property forms part of the cultural heritage
of a State. Aside from the case, where such cultural property has been
created by individuals or collectives which are nationals of the State

13
B. Thorn, Internationaler Kulturgüterschutz nach der UNIDROIT-Konvention,
146 (2005); A. Weidner, Kulturgüter als res extra commercium im internationalen
Sachenrecht, 97 ff. (2001).
14
For further informations about similar cases, see J. Greenfield, The Return of
Cultural Treasures (2nd Ed., 1998).
15
14 November 1970, 823 UNTS 231. Entry in force: 24 April 1972.
308 peter-tobias stoll

concerned or created within its territory such cultural heritage will also
include cultural property found within the national territory or prop-
erty acquired by certain archaeological, ethnological or natural science
missions with the consent of the competent authority of the country of
origin of such property or cultural property, which has been the subject
of a freely agreed exchange. In regard to such cultural heritage, Art. 14
lit. b of the Convention clearly acknowledges, that a State can qualify a
specific cultural property as inalienable.
In this context, the Convention envisages a number of preventive
measures to prevent illicit transactions. These include the establish-
ment of inventories, the issuing of export certificate, the monitoring of
trade and the imposition of criminal or administrative sanctions.
Most notably, the Convention provides for restitution. According to
Art. 7 of the Convention, States parties are not only under an obliga-
tion to take the necessary measures to prevent museums and similar
institutions from acquiring cultural property originating in another
State party which had been illegally exported (lit. a). To the more, Art.
7 lit. b (i) obliges States to prohibit the import of cultural properties
stolen from a museum or religious or secular public monument or a
similar institution. Most importantly, Art. 7 lit. b (ii) requires State par-
ties upon request of another State party of origin, to take appropriate
steps to recover and return any such cultural property. A similar obli-
gation of restitution is specifically provided for in Art. 13 in view of
cultural property, which has been qualified as inalienable by the State
of origin. A number of provisions on co-operation shall facilitate the
implementation and function of the Convention.
The Convention is noteworthy because of its definition of a cultural
heritage and a cultural property, including the rights to classify and
declare certain objects as inalienable. It is furthermore remarkable,
because it requires other States to acknowledge and enforce such deter-
minations and the rules of the State of origin.16 It thereby establishes a
higher degree of legitimacy, transparency and legality of transborder
transactions in certain objects, which are considered to be in need for
international control and enforcement of State of origin determina-
tions. In that regard, the Convention can be seen as a forerunner to
other international regimes, which set higher standards for the con-
trol of transborder transactions as later on established in the area of

16
Odendahl (note 12), at 175.
 where should nefertiti go?309

environmental law in the case of endangered species, the trade in haz-

ardous waste and–as a very recent development–in genetic resources.
It represents an early model for a type of international co-operation in
order to safeguard national controls over the transfer of certain critical
objects. It thereby acknowledges the specific interest and right of cer-
tain States in view of certain objects and the right of such States to
control any transactions in this regard and to have such controls to be
accommodated internationally.
It is important to note in conclusion that the Convention is in no
way hostile to the idea of cultural property being transferred around
the world. As preambular para. 2 of the Convention clearly indicates
the Convention is built on the consideration, “that the interchange of
cultural property among nations for scientific, cultural and educational
purposes increases the knowledge of the civilization of Man, enriches
the cultural life of all peoples and inspires mutual respect and apprecia-
tion among nations.” The Convention would probably have prevented
some of the uncertainties and tensions in the Nefertiti case. However, it
came 58 years too late, as the Convention in general and as stipulated
in several of its provisions has no retroactive applicability.

III. Dealing with the Past: The UNESCO Committee

In view of this shortcomings, an Intergovernmental Committee for
Promoting the Return of Cultural Property to its Countries of Origin
or its Restitution in case of Illicit Appropriation was established in
UNESCO in 197817 and charged with the task of “seeking ways and
means of facilitating bilateral negotiations for the restitution or return
of cultural property to its countries of origin …”.18 The Committee is
composed of 20 member States of UNESCO and is elected by the gen-
eral conference. The Committee has been quite successful in a number
of cases19 and important other cases are pending.20 Egypt has brought

17
Committee established by the General Conference at its 20th session, in 1978
(20 C/Res. 4/7.6/5). See M. Vallterra, Capter 10, in: J. Nafziger / T. Scovazzi (eds.),
The Cultural Heritage of Mankind, 559, 593 (2008).
18
 Art. 4 No.1 of the Statutes of the Intergovernmental Committee for Promoting the
Return of CulturalProperty to its Countries of Origin or its Restitution in Case of Illicit
Appropriation, UNESCO-Doc. CLT/CH/INS-2005/21.
19
Secretariat Report of the Intergovernmental Committee for Promoting the Return
of Cultural Property to its Countries of Origin or its Restitution in Case of Illicit
Appropriation on its 16th session, UNESCO-Doc. CLT-2010/CONF.203/COM.16/2
Rev, Paris, July 2010.
20
Id., Recommendations nos. 1, 2 and 3.
310 peter-tobias stoll

an initiative to the Committee to deal with the Nefertiti case.21 However,

Germany did not offer to join in these consultations. Altogether, the
work of the Committee can be seen as a success. It can help to address
demands for restitution or return in case, where the legal situation is
uncertain. Sometimes innovative solutions have been found in this
regard.

B. Open Questions, Emerging Claims and Possible Solutions

The Nefertiti Case is just one example for a number of difficult return
or restitution cases, which are actually pending.22 In these cases, such
claims are difficult to substantiate as often the transaction took place a
long time ago and their circumstances are difficult to ascertain. While
the 1970 UNESCO convention is believed to provide for more legal
certainty its lack of retroactive application leaves a number of cases
unsolved, particularly those, where takings and transactions took place
form places under colonial rule. The establishment of the UNESCO
Committee is a welcome attempt to solve some of those cases.23
However, without further guidance, its means and powers are rather
limited. At this point a number of developments and discussions come
into play, which relates to two different, but closely related aspects. At
one hand, the ties between a cultural object and the State of origin are
highlighted. At the other hand, the relevance of culture for humankind
is emphasized. Apparently, both dimensions are relevant to an interna-
tional cultural law and its further development. However, it remains to
be seen, how these different lines of argument fit together and how they
might impact questions of ownership and property regarding cultural
objects.

I. A Nation’s Claim to its Proper Cultural Objects?

When demanding the return or restitution of cultural objects, States of
origin often highlight the relevance of the object at hand for the State

21
See supra, note 1.
22
See, for instance the Elgin marbles, see J. Merryman, Thinking About the Elgin
Marbles. Critical Essays on Cultural Property, Art and Law 2009.
23
Every two years, the General Assembly commends the UNESCO and the
Intergovernmental Committee for the work, they have accomplished, especially
through bilateral negotiations. See most recently GA Res. 64/78 of 11 February 2010.
 where should nefertiti go?311

and its society. Equally, the resolutions of the General Assembly of

the United Nations have repeatedly emphasized “the importance
attached by some countries of origin to the return of cultural property
that is of fundamental spiritual and cultural value to them, so that
they may constitute collections representative of their cultural herit-
age.”24 This wording is quite ambiguous. It might be read as a political
statement or a legal claim. This suggests questioning, whether aside
from the right to property as explained above, there exists a separate
claim in international law, which could support the demand for return
of Nefertiti.

1. Heritage
One issue at hand is the notion of heritage, which is at the core of
international cultural law. According to UNESCO instruments, such
heritage may be one of mankind, as already stipulated in the 1954
Convention for the Protection of Cultural Property in the Event of
Armed Conflict.25 It may also be related to “communities, groups
and individuals” as the 2003 Convention on Convention for the
Safeguarding of Intangible Cultural Heritage points out.26 However,
“cultural heritage” is also linked to States, as the 1970 Convention
highlights.27 In international cultural law, the notion of heritage has a
number of connotations. To date, the protection of cultural heritage
against destruction and against illicit trafficking is the most relevant
one. However, it has been also proposed, that “States should be allowed
to possess that cultural material, which is essential to an understanding
of itself and its origins.”

24
GA Res. 61/52 of 16 February 2007, preamble, para. 14.
25
Of 14 May 1954, 249 UNTS 240. Preambular para. 2 of the Convention reads:
“Being convinced that damage to cultural property belonging to any people whatso-
ever means damage to the cultural heritage of all mankind, since each people makes its
contribution to the culture of the world;” See also below, III.
26
Of 17 October 2003, 2368 UNTS 1, in force 20 April 2006. Article 2 para. 1 reads
“The ‘intangible cultural heritage’ means the practices, representations, expressions,
knowledge, skills–as well as the instruments, objects, artefacts and cultural spaces
associated therewith–that communities, groups and, in some cases, individuals recog-
nize as part of their cultural heritage.”
27
 Article 4 of the Convention states: “The States Parties to this Convention recog-
nize that for the purpose of the Convention property which belongs to the following
categories forms part of the cultural heritage of each State …” (emphasis added).
312 peter-tobias stoll

2. Self-Determination and Colonialism

Also the right to self-determination is sometimes discussed in this
regard. Indeed, within academia, the notion of “cultural self-determi-
nation” has been discussed. It may comprise a right of States or groups,
to create cultural objects, to preserve them and to define conditions for
their transfer.28 In considering the historical context, it is furthermore
suggested, that “States that have acquired cultural material as the result
of colonization … have a special obligation as a matter of international
solidarity, to co-operate in the return or restitution of at least some of
the property to the former colony …”29

II. Human Rights and the Rights of Indigenous Peoples

Also, the human rights dimension of culture has to be taken into
account.30 Finally, the rights of indigenous peoples may be mentioned.
Under Article 11 para. 1 of the United Nations Declaration on the
Rights of Indigenous Peoples,31 such peoples “have the right to practise
and revitalize their cultural traditions and customs. This includes the
right to maintain, protect and develop the past, present and future
manifestations of their cultures, such as archaeological and historical
sites, artefacts, designs, ceremonies, technologies and visual and per-
forming arts and literature.” Furthermore the Declaration stipulates, in
para. 2 that “States shall provide redress through effective mechanisms,
which may include restitution, developed in conjunction with indige-
nous peoples, with respect to their cultural, intellectual, religious and
spiritual property taken without their free, prior and informed consent
or in violation of their laws, traditions and customs.” However, it is
doubtful, whether the Declaration and more specifically Art. 11 already
represent binding international law. To the more, it is doubtful, whether
Nefertiti results from indigenous cultural activity and whether para. 2

28
Odendahl (note 12), 414.
29
J. Nafziger (note 1), 205 (2008). See also A. Chechi, The return of cultural objects
removed in times of colonial domination and international law, 18 The Italian Yearbook
of International Law, 159 ( 2008). Siehr (note 2) 141.
30
M. Abouddahab, Chapter 3, in: J. Nafziger / T. Scovazzi (eds.), The Cultural
Heritage of Mankind, 251 (2008); F. Francioni, Beyond State Sovereignty: The
Protection of Cultural heritage as a Shared Interest of Humanity, 25 Michigan Journal
of International Law 1209, 1213 (2004); F. Francioni / M. Sheinin (eds.), Cultural
Human Rights (2008).
31
GA Res. 61/295 of 13 September 2007, Annex.
 where should nefertiti go?313

indeed covers international action for restitution. Finally, however, that

provision does not entail an additional entitlement.

III. An International Status of Cultural Objects?

To the more, culture has often been considered to be closely related
to humankind. More than once, it has been proposed that outstand­
ing cultural objects should be considered a common heritage of
mankind.32
International cultural law contains two sets of rules, which come
close to such proposal. The 1972 World Heritage Convention has to be
mentioned here as well as the 2003 Convention for the Safeguarding of
Intangible Cultural Heritage. Both conventions envisage a listing pro-
cedure for such world heritage items.33 States can put forward applica-
tions to list certain of their cultural heritage sites or their intangible
cultural heritage. In case an item is listed, the State is obliged to protect
the integrity of the item at hand. Also, the listing of an object has
important economic potential.
However, in view of our case, these two treaties have hardly any sig-
nificance. None of them will apply directly. The 1972 Convention only
applies to heritage sites and thus cannot cover a single object, as, for
instance, the Nefertiti bust. On the other hand Nefertiti does not repre-
sent intangible cultural heritage, as is the subject matter of the 2003
Convention. Even more, these instruments don’t address issues of
property and ownership.34 It has been however, recently proposed to
also envisage some protection for moveable cultural objects.

32
 As Wolfrum observes, initiatives in this regard were already undertaken in 1945,
when Brazil proposed, that the UN Charter should include a statement recognizing
culture as a common heritage, see R. Wolfrum, Common Heritage of Mankind’, at
para. 11 in: R. Wolfrum (ed.), The Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International
Law, Oxford University Press, 2008, online edition, [www.mpepil.com], visited on 15
January 2011. See also C. J. S. Forrest, Cultural heritage as the common heritage of
humankind: A critical re-evaluation. 40 The Comparative and International Law
Journal of Southern Africa, 124 (2007); E. Jayme, Die Nationalität des Kunstwerkes
als Rechtsfrage, in: G. Reichelt (ed.), Internationaler Kulturgüterschutz, 7, at 13
(1992); R. Dolzer, Die Deklaration des Kultrgutes zum “common heritage of mankind”,
in: R. Dolzer / E. Jayme / R. Mußgnug, Rechtsfragen des internationalen Kulturgüter­
schutzes, 13 (1994); S. v. Schorlemer, Internationaler Kulturgüterschutz, at 36 (1992);
M. Müller, Cultural Heritage Protection: Legatimicy, Property and Functionalism, 7
International Journal of Cultural Property 395, at 402 (No.1, 1998).
33
 Article 11 of the World Heritage Convention, Article 16 of the Convention for the
Safeguarding of Intangible Cultural Heritage.
34
 Article 6 of the World Heritage Convention clearly determines the necessity of
world heritage protection, “without prejudice to property rights provided by national
314 peter-tobias stoll

IV. Culture and its Multiple Ties: A Framework

These developments and arguments clearly show, that culture is related
to different entities: individuals, groups, States and mankind. However,
the normative substance of these different elements varies and even
more, the questions how these developments, arguments and propos-
als are interrelated and how they relate to the existing property rights
remains largely unsettled. While the rhetoric in scholarly and political
debate often alludes to ownership and property, it often remains
unclear, how this would translate into rules applicable to cases like the
one at hand.
Indeed, it can be considered an important achievement that contem-
porary international cultural law properly reflects the multiple ties that
exist between culture and nations, groups, individuals and humankind.
However, such approach clearly necessitates to properly defining the
interrelationship between those ties. This implies, that the different
relationships are seen in context.
As an example, the notion of a cultural heritage of mankind can
hardly be understood in the patterns of the common heritage of man-
kind principle as applied in other areas of international law. In contrast
to the situation faced by the international community in view of the
seep seabed, culture has never been a terra incognita. Accordingly,
there was never a need nor a possibility to prevent States from claiming
parts of such heritage and to set up a unique international system of
management and use.
Also, States could hardly subject culture to permanent sovereignty,
as is the case with resources. To the contrary, States, to a certain extent
have to take into consideration the ties that exist between their socie-
ties, groups and individuals at one hand and mankind at the other
hand.

1. From Property to Access

Finally, these multiple ties can hardly be properly accommodated
within the confines of property and its rather restricted logic. This is

legislation”. According to this, F. Fechner, Wohin gehören Kulturgüter? Rechtliche

Ansätze eines Ausgleichsmodells, in: K. Grupp / U. Hufeld (eds.), Recht–Kultur–
Finanzen: Festschrift für Reinhard Mußgnug zum 70. Geburtstag am 26. Oktober
2005, 485, at 488 (2005) notes, that questions concerning the allocation of property and
ownership are not addressed by the Convention.
 where should nefertiti go?315

not to say, that culture should be exempted from the application of

property rules. Suggesting such a radical change could hardly be ear-
nestly proposed in view of the consequences for existing rights and the
many other problems involved. However, it is certainly necessitated to
consider the accommodation of the multiple ties that exist in view of
culture under international law in view of the details of acquisition,
transfer and exercise of property rights.
One key issue in this regard is access. Access to culture as to be more
precisely defined by mode, time, location and other conditions has
only recently become a concern of international cultural law.35 In cases
like the one at hand, the provision of access, for instance by way of dis-
playing the object at hand in different countries and museums, could
be one element of a solution.

2. Cooperation
The multiple ties of culture as discussed so far in substantive perspec-
tive have also a procedural dimension. Indeed the existing interna-
tional instruments as well as resolutions of the General Assembly of the
UN call from a cooperation of States in view of several of the issues
pointed out above.36 In the case of a return or restitution of cultural
objects, the establishment of the UNESCO Committee, the various UN
General Assembly resolutions on the matter and the 1972 Convention
itself request States and States Parties to cooperate. Of course, coopera-
tion in this regard shall not be an end in itself.37 It needs a proper objec-
tive or aim. In our case, the proper aim of such cooperation can be
considered to clarify the implications of the existing multiple ties of
cultural objects and to develop solutions for the accommodation of
these aspects in general as well as in view of particular cases of a
demand for return or restitution. Such solutions may include for
instance the exchange of cultural objects or their display in different
locations on the basis of specific agreement. Such obligation of coop-
eration very likely entails a duty to sympathetically consider requests
to enter into consultations concerning a demand for restitution or
return of cultural objects in a bilateral setting or–possibly–within the

35
Cf. Art. 2 para. 7 of the 2005 Convention on the Protection and Promotion of the
Diversity of Cultural Expressions, http://unesdoc.unesco.org/images/0014/001429/
142919e.pdf.
36
See J. Nafziger (note 1), 196 (2008)
37
See Wolfrum (note 2), para. 2.
316 peter-tobias stoll

framework of the UNESCO committee. Of course, such duty is a lim-

ited one. It does certainly not amount to a duty to negotiate or a duty to
agree. Therefore, a State may even deny a request for such consultation.
However, as is long established in view of rules on cooperation, in case
of denial the State is under a duty to give reasoning for its decision.
In the case at hand, a number of attempts have been made to find a
solution at bilateral level. A number of issues however are unresolved.
In particular it is an open question, whether and how the bust could be
safely transported38 and where it could be safely displayed. Recently, a
new attempt has been made discuss the issue within the UNESCO
Committee. As far ass is known, however, Germany has rejected this
proposal. According to what has been outlined above, Germany would
be under a duty to give a reason, if she determined not to enter into
consulations with Egypt in a bilateral setting or within the UNESCO
Committee.

C. Conclusion

With the title of this paper, we suggested asking where Nefertiti should
go rather than who owns the bust. It has indeed turned out, that rules
of property, ownership and transfer can hardly accommodate the man-
ifold interests and expectations involved in such a case. A solution in
this latter sense could involve letting Nefertiti go to Egypt for some
time in the future on the basis of a comprehensive agreement, if possi-
ble, in order for this exceptional cultural object to be accessible in the
region, where it originates. As has been shown, the manifold references
in international cultural law to the international dimension of culture
can be said to constitute an obligation to cooperate in this regard. Such
obligation very likely involves to sympathetically consider the demand
to enter into bilateral consultations on the subject or to agree to concili-
ation within the UNESCO Committee. Very likely, a State, who wishes
to deny such invitation, is under a duty to give a reason for such choice.

38
See BT Drs. 16/6704 (note 3), at 2.
 Part II

Human Rights in the Global Society

Environmental Migration and International Law

Ulrich Beyerlin

A. Introduction

At the end of 2009 more than 43 million people worldwide were forci­
bly displaced for a multitude of reasons; among them were about 15
million refugees and 27 million internally displaced persons.1 Actually,
competition for scarce natural resources, such as water and fertile land,
has long been a source of conflict in developing countries, particularly
on the African continent. Global climate change exacerbates environ­
mental degradation all over the world. Thus, a complex mix of global
challenges entails an increase in the rate of environmental migration.2
Over the last ten years, academics, policymakers and the media have
increasingly scrutinised the phenomenon of environmental refugees.3
Their major concern is whether environmental change will displace

1
 See United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), 2009 Global
Trends, Division of Programme Support and Management, 15 June 2010 (available at
http://www.unhcr.org/4c11fObe9.html).
2
 Cf. the interview given by UN High Commissioner for Refugees A. Guterres on
17 June 2007 to Times Online, available at http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/
environment/article4159923.ece.; T. King, Environmental Displacement: Coordinating
Efforts to Find Solutions, 18 Georgetown International Environmental Law Review
543, at 545 et seq. (2006).
3
 Cf. for instance R. Black, Environmental Refugees: Myth or Reality?, New Issues
in Refugee Research, Working Paper 34 (2001), available at http://www.unhcr.org/
research/RESEARCH/3ae6aodoo.pdf; D. C. Bates, Environmental Refugees? Classi­
fying Human Migrations Caused by Environmental Change, 23 Population and
Environment 465 (2002); S. Castles, Environmental Change and Forced Migration:
Making Sense of the Debate, New Issues in Refugee Research, UNHCR Working
Paper No. 70 (2002); N. Myers, Environmental Refugees: A Growing Phenomenon of
the 21st Century, Phil. Trans. R. Soc. Lond. B 357, at 609 (2002); C. Jakobeit /
C. Methmann, Klimaflüchtlinge–Die verleugnete Katastrophe (Universität Hamburg,
Fakultät Wirtschafts- und Sozialwissenschaften, Studie im Auftrag von Greenpeace)
(2007); A. Lopez, The Protection of Environmentally Displaced Persons, 37 Environ­
mental Law Review 365 (2007); F. Renaud / J. J. Bogardi / O. Dun / K. Warner, Control,
Adapt or Flee: How to Face Environmental Migration, InterSections, UNU-EHS
(2007), available at http://www.ehs.unu.edu/file.php?id=259; C. Boano / R. Zetter /
T. Morris, Environmentally Displaced People. Understanding the Linkages between
Environmental Change, Livelihoods and Forced Migration, Refugee Studies Centre,
320 ulrich beyerlin

large numbers of vulnerable people in the developing world. In 1995, a

widely cited article estimated that more than 25 million people were
displaced by environmental factors.4 Twenty years later, sceptical
experts affiliated with the United Nations University (UNU) in Bonn
predicted that by 2010 the number of environmental refugees could
grow to 50 million.5 As reported, environment-related migration has
been most acute in Sub-Saharan Africa, but also involves millions of
people in China and India. The developed world has not been spared.
Europe and the United States are witnessing increasing pressure from
victims of deteriorating soil and water conditions in North Africa and
Latin America.6
As well-documented cases of environmentally induced migration
are largely limited to such dramatic events as the 2005 Hurricane
Katrina in the Gulf of Mexico and the 2010 flood in Pakistan, the con­
sequences of smaller-scale, but more pervasive forms of environmental
change, such as droughts and soil degradation, are still unclear.
Accordingly, it is very difficult to predict the scale and nature of future
human displacements under accelerating global environmental
change.7 New research suggests that “environmentally induced migra­
tion can be temporary and involve relatively short distances, in con­
trast to fears of large numbers of environmental refugees moving across
international borders”.8

B. The Meaning of Environmental Migration

There is ongoing international discussion about a suitable terminologi­

cal approach to legally solving the problems of environment-related

Forced Migration Policy Briefing 1 (2008); V. O. Kolmannskog, Future Floods of

Refugees. A Comment on Climate Change, in: Norwegian Refugee Council, Conflict
and Forced Migration (2008); L. Westra, Environmental Justice and the Rights of
Ecological Refugees (2009); J. McAdam (ed.), Climate Change and Displacement.
Multidisciplinary Perspectives (2010).
4
 Myers, id.
5
 See S. Lovgren, Climate Change Creating Millions of “Eco Refugees”,
UN Warns, National Geographic News, 18 November 2005, available at http://news
.nationalgeoographic.com/news/pf/18842370.html.
6
 See Abbout.com, Environmental Issues, Scholars Predict 50 Million ‘Environmental
Refugees’ by 2010, available at http://environment.about.com/od/globalwarming/a/
envirorefugees.htm?p=1.
7
 C. L. Gray, Environmental Refugees or Economic Migrants? (2010), available at
http://www.prb.org/Articles/2010/environmentalmigrants.aspx?p=1.
8
Id.
 environmental migration and international law321

migration. According to a definition found in a 1985 report for the

United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP), environmental
refugees were understood as “people who have been forced to leave
their traditional habitat, temporarily or permanently, because of a
marked environmental disruption (natural and/or triggered by people)
that jeopardized their existence and/or seriously affected the quality of
their life”.9
Biermann and Boas focus only on climate change refugees and
define them as “people who have to leave their habitats, immediately or
in the near future, because of sudden or gradual alterations in their
natural environment related to at least one of three impacts of climate
change: sea-level rise, extreme weather events, and drought and water
scarcity”.10
Challenging this definition which makes no distinction based on the
intended destination of migration, Docherty and Giannini take the
view that a refugee to be considered a victim of climate change must,
inter alia, meet the elements of forced migration, temporary or perma­
nent relocation; and movement across national borders.11
Another definition of environmental refugees has recently been
developed by Austrian legal scholars in a research study conducted on
behalf of the German Federal Ministry of the Environment, Nature
Conservation and Nuclear Safety12 according to which the term envi­
ronmental refugees means:
“(c)itizens and persons with permanent residence who had to leave their
home either within their State of origin or across borders, temporarily or
permanently; the decisive, immediate trigger for leaving is environmen­
tal change induced by human or natural causes which poses a serious
threat to their lives or livelihoods”.13

 E. El-Hinnawi, Environmental Refugees, at 4 (1985).

    9
10
F. Biermann / I. Boas, Preparing for a Warmer World: Towards a Global
Governance System to Protect Climate Refugees (Global Governance Project, Global
Governance Working Paper No. 33 [2007]), at 8, available at http://www.glogov.org;
F. Biermann / I. Boas, Für ein Protokoll zum Schutz von Klimaflüchtlingen: Global
Governance zur Anpassung an eine wärmere Welt, Vereinte Nationen 10, at 12 et seq.
(2008).
11
 B. Docherty and T. Giannini, “Confronting a Rising Tide: A Proposal for a
Convention on Climate Change Refugees” 33 Harvard Environmental Law Review
349, at 372 (2009).
12
 M. Ammer / M. Nowak / L. Stadlmayr / G Hafner, Rechtsstellung und rechtliche
Behandlung von Umweltflüchtlingen (Legal Status and Legal Treatment of
Environmental Refugees), in: Umweltbundesamt (Federal Environment Agency), Texte
54/2010 (2010), available at http:://www.uba.de/uba-info-medien-e/4035.html.
13
Id., English Summary, at 1.
322 ulrich beyerlin

Principally, this definition is rather broad as it encompasses all

people forced “to leave their home”, irrespective of the place of refuge;
however, as it includes only citizens and “persons with permanent resi­
dence”, it is at the same time rather restrictive.
By contrast, Gemenne has proposed “to distinguish environmental
migrants, whose movement is voluntary and proactive, and environ-
mental displacees, whose movement is forced and reactive”, joined by a
third category “made up of people displaced by development projects
such as dams … set apart from environmental migration”.14
Seeking a way out of this terminological medley, it should be
observed that the term refugee virtually invites one to associate it with
the 1951 Geneva Refugees Convention designed to protect any person
who is “owing to well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of
race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or
political opinion, … outside the country of his nationality and is una­
ble or, owing to such fear, is unwilling to avail himself of the protection
of that country…”.15 People expelled from their home state for environ­
mental reasons normally cannot claim such type of persecution.16 Thus,
political refugees and environmental migrants should be clearly distin­
guished from each other. The United Nations High Commissioner for
Refugees (UNHCR) has been quoted as making the convincing obser­
vation that “[l]umping both groups together under the same heading
would further cloud the issues and could undermine efforts to help and
protect either group and to address the root causes of either type of
displacement”.17
Therefore, for the purpose of this study people forced to leave their
home state’s territory for compelling environmental reasons will be
labelled environmental emigrants rather than environmental refugees.
As indicated above, throughout the world environmental emigrants are
clearly outnumbered by people who, also for environmental reasons,
feel forced to leave their homeland and take refuge in other parts of

14
 Available at http://knol.google.com/k/francois-gemenne/environmental
-migration/qrmmkeyllpq/2.
15
 Article 1 A (2) of the Geneva Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees of
28 July 1951.
16
 At best in cases where competition for scarce natural resources, such as water and
grazing lands, eventually results in the breaking out of armed conflict, people having
become the victims of that conflict may seek protection under the Geneva Refugees
Convention.
17
 Cited in http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Environmental_migrant.
 environmental migration and international law323

their home state’s territory. Thus, unlike environmental emigrants,

they keep within state borders. Legally speaking, they are internally
displaced persons (IDPs). The UN Guiding Principles on Internally
Displaced Persons, developed by the UN Secretary-General’s
Representative on Internally Displaced Persons and presented to the
UN Commission on Human Rights in 1998,18 define internally dis-
placed persons as “persons or groups of persons who have been forced
or obliged to flee or to leave their homes or places of habitual residence,
in particular as a result of or in order to avoid the effects of … natural
or human-made disasters, and who have not crossed an internationally
recognized State border”.19
Admittedly, isolating environmental degradation as the only cause
of migration is almost impossible, because most flight situations appear
to arise out of a conglomeration of ecological and socio-economic fac­
tors such as chronic poverty, susceptibility to diseases, societal margin­
alisation and discrimination. Apart from that, flight situations can also
be the result of man-made environmental change which goes along
with natural hazards such as landslides, floods and droughts. In par­
ticular cases both causes are so closely interwoven that they cannot be
separated. The following sections consider flight situations which
essentially, if not solely, result from man-made environmental degra­
dation, while cases where people flee for reasons of escaping from nat­
ural hazards such as earthquakes, volcanic eruptions and tsunamis
primarily caused by force majeure will remain unconsidered.20

C. The Challenge: Coping with Different Environmental

Flight Situations

Frequently, citizens of a state become the innocent victims of essen­

tially human-induced environmental degradation, such as widespread
contamination of soil or water, landslides, floods or droughts. In cases
where the whole home state’s territory has been most seriously degraded

18
 See the text of these Guiding Principles in UN Doc. E/CN.4/1998/53/Add.2
(available at http://www.reliefweb.int/ocha_ol/pub/idp_gp/idp.html).
19
Introduction to the Guiding Principles, id., para. 2.
20
 As migrants are often forced to settle in resource-scarce areas they can put further
pressure on water, land and soil, or flora and fauna. Thus, environmental migration for
its part can cause severe environmental problems. However, this phenomenon also
remains out of closer consideration.
324 ulrich beyerlin

the affected citizens feel forced to take refuge abroad. In the more fre­
quent cases where only part of the home state’s territory has become
desolate because of environmental deterioration citizens living there
will flee to safer areas within state borders.
In both instances the affected citizens may first and foremost try to
obtain the assistance of their home state. If they can demonstrate that
their home state has negligently failed to protect them from becoming
victim of serious environmental harm, they may even sue it for restitu­
tion or compensation. To date, there has been much discussion on low-
lying Pacific small island states which are going to be swallowed by the
sea and will thereby cease to exist.21 Such a worst case scenario where a
state is doomed by rising sea-levels is not an abstract horror vision, but
is already a looming reality. What would the legal remedies be to pro­
tect and assist these people?
Naturally, states must first and foremost take all necessary measures
to prevent global climate change from amounting to an immediate
threat to their citizens. However, the Pacific small island states certainly
contribute the least to global climate change. Consequently, they are
widely unable to prevent the sea-level from rising further. A more real­
istic option for them is, as far as possible and as appropriate, to take all
necessary measures to adapt to climate change, such as improving land-
use, installing early warning systems, establishing protective barriers,
and mitigating damage. In the event that such adaptation and mitiga­
tion measures fail and their territories are going to be swamped by sea,
the small island states, fully in line with the concept of common but
differentiated responsibility as expressed in Principle 7 of the 1992 Rio
Declaration, can request third states or the community of states as a
whole to render assistance to their citizens forced to flee from their
homelands, e.g. by supporting their safe evacuation, or admitting
them as temporary or permanent environmental refugees on their
territories.22

21
 Among the states most threatened by permanent flooding are the Maldives in the
Indian Ocean and Tuvalu and Kiribati in the South Pacific. For details see Jakobeit and
Methmann (note 3), at 16 et seq. (available at http://www.greenpeace.de/fileadmin/
gpd/user_upload/themen/klima/klimmafluechtlinge_endv.PDF).
22
Principle 7 reads as follows: “States shall cooperate in a spirit of global partnership
to conserve, protect and restore the health and integrity of the Earth’s ecosystem. In
view of the different contributions to global environmental degradation, States have
common but differentiated responsibilities. The developed countries acknowledge the
responsibility that they bear in the international pursuit of sustainable development in
view of the pressures their societies place on the global environment and of the tech­
nologies and financial resources they command”.
 environmental migration and international law325

D. Possible Solutions under International Law

I. Inter-state Cooperation
A primary means to cope with the environmental flight situations
described above is inter-state cooperation governed by international
law. De lege lata, the African Union Convention for the Protection and
Assistance of Internally Displaced Persons in Africa, adopted at
Kampala on 22 October 2009, is the only legally binding instrument at
the regional level which is designed to respond to the problems of IDPs,
including environmental migrants who keep within state borders.
Clearly inspired by the 1998 UN Guiding Principles on Internally
Displaced Persons,23 the Kampala Convention requires states parties,
inter alia, to respect their human rights obligations, to devise “early
warning systems”, to establish and implement “disaster risk reduction
strategies” and “emergency and disaster preparedness measures”
(Article 4 [1] and [2]) and, more specifically, to “take measures to pro­
tect and assist persons who have been internally displaced due to natu­
ral or human made disasters, including climate change” (Article 5 [4]).
It involves the African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights and
its Special Rapporteur for Refugees, Returnees, IDPs and Asylum
Seekers in the process of the protection of the rights of IDPs and of
monitoring its compliance (Articles 8 [3] and 14 [4]).24
As indicated above at II., none of the five characteristics of persecu­
tion enumerated in the 1951 Geneva Refugees Convention applies
to environmental emigrants. Thus, this sub-group of environmental
migrants enjoys the protection neither of this instrument nor of any
other international treaty existing today, regardless of its objective.
Stories propagated in the media according to which the Government
of Tuvalu, a small low-lying Pacific island state, reached an agreement
with New Zealand to accept its 11,600 citizens in the event that rising
sea levels swamp the country25 have been formally repudiated by the
New Zealand Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Trade in 2009 by stating
that New Zealand immigration policy does allow for a limited number

23
 See infra, note 18.
24
 See Article 17 (1) of the Convention. To enter into force, the Convention has to be
ratified by 15 states. As of 31 December 2010, the Convention has been signed by
29 out of 53 African Union member states, but ratified only by Uganda, Sierra Leone
and Chad.
25
 L. West, Scholars Predict 50 Million ‘Environmental Refugees’ by 2010, available
at http://environment.about.com/od/globalwarming/a/envirorefugees.htm?p=1.
326 ulrich beyerlin

of people from Pacific Access Countries (PAC quota countries, i.e. Fiji,
Samoa, Tonga, Kiribati and Tuvalu) to gain residency in New Zealand;
in the ministry’s view there is however no link between this quota and
climate change.26
De lege ferenda, there is ongoing discussion on possible ways and
means to enhance the precarious situation of environmental migrants.
The array of proposals made in this respect is very wide.27 Most of these
proposals do not clearly distinguish between the two sub-groups of
environmental migrants, i.e. environmental IDPs and environmental
emigrants.
Biermann and Boas favour a solution focussing on the climate
change scenario. They plead for the adoption of an additional protocol
relating to the 1992 United Nations Framework Convention on Climate
Change (UNFCCC) on the recognition, protection and resettlement of
climate refugees.28
The Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe in its 2008
Resolution “Environmentally induced migration and displacement: a
21st century challenge” considers the elaboration of a European
Framework Convention for the Status and Rights of Environmental
Migrants;29 however, such a convention is still waiting to be drafted.
Other proposals range from elaborating a self-reliant convention on
the protection of environmental refugees,30 developing a new Convention
on the Protection of Environmentally Displaced Persons, thereby fol­
lowing the UN Convention against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman
or Degrading Treatment or Punishment of 10 December 1984,31 to
drafting a specific Convention on Climate Change Refugees.32

26
 Tuvalu has 75 places allocated annually for its citizens within the PAC quota. See
the Ministry’s statement of 4 August 2009, available at http://www.mfat.nz/Foreign
-Relations/Pacific/NZ-Tuvalu-immigration.php.
27
For a comprehensive survey of relevant proposals see Ammer et al. (note 12),
at 150 et seq.
28
 See Biermann / Boas, (note 10), at 11 et seq.
29
 See the text of the Parliamentary Assembly’s Resolution of 23 December 2008, in
Doc. 11785, para. 122, available at http://assembly.coe.int/Documents/WorkingDocs/
Doc08/EDOC11785.htm.
30
 See the German Advisory Council on Global Change (Wissenschaftlicher Beirat
der Bundesregierung Globale Umweltveränderungen [WBGU]), World in Transition–
Climate Change as a Security Risk, Summary for Policy-Makers, at 15 (2007). Cf. also
H. Wijnberg, Living Space for Environmental Refugees (LiSER), The Toledo Initiative
on Environmental Refugees and Ecological Restauration, 9–10 July 2004.
31
 See D. Zartner Falstrom, Stemming the Flow of Environmental Displacement:
Creating a Convention to Protect Persons and Preserve the Environment, Colorado
Journal of International Environmental Law and Policy 1, at 18 et seq. (2001 Yearbook).
32
 See B. Docherty / T. Giannini (note 11), at 391 et seq.
 environmental migration and international law327

Whether any of these proposals has a real chance of success is an

open question. Including environmental emigrants in the definition of
the 1951 Refugees Convention appears to be inopportune for two rea­
sons: firstly, there may be fear that it might weaken the current protec­
tion of refugees in the strict sense; secondly, as refugees by definition
must keep outside the territory of their home state, it would not protect
the vast majority of environmental migrants, namely the environmen­
tal IDPs.33 There is also hardly a chance that states will reach a consen­
sus on adopting an additional protocol relating to the Refugees
Convention which is designed to protect and assist environmental refu-
gees, because there is a tendency in current state practice to interpret
and apply this instrument rather restrictively.34
As the environmental flight situations, the needs of peoples forced to
flee and the conditions of protection and help vary significantly from
one case to another, it is extremely difficult to reach political consensus
among states on an international agreement which is sufficiently com­
prehensive to cover all these flight situations. Thus, it can hardly be
hoped that states will add a specific protocol on environmental emigra­
tion to the UNFCCC or any other multilateral environmental agree­
ment (MEA) existing today.35 At best, regional instruments for
preventing the internal displacement of people and/or mitigating its
detrimental effects may be established in the continents other than
Africa, thereby following the example of the 2009 Kampala Convention
on IDPs.
As regards the worst case scenario of people living in small island
states threatened by rising sea levels, parties to the UNFCCC and/or
the 1997 Kyoto Protocol should at least feel prompted to reach an
understanding on programmes for the evacuation and resettlement of
those peoples; to this end a special environmental migration fund
should be established under the climate change regime into which each
state must pay according to its individual contribution to global warm­
ing and its economic capacities.36

33
In this sense also King (note 2), at 552 et seq.; J. Grote, Der rechtliche Schutz
ökologisch motivierter Flucht, Herbsttagung des Netzwerks Migrationsrecht, Stuttgart
Hohenheim, 7–9 November 2008, at 9 et seq.
34
 See Biermann / Boas (note 10), at 10 et seq.
35
If any, the 1994 UN Convention to Combat Desertification with its Regional
Implementation Annexes for Africa; Asia, Latin America and the Caribbean, the
Northern Mediterranean, and Central and Eastern Europe may be topically and struc­
turally suitable for being accompanied by regional protocols specifically dealing with
environmental migration.
36
 Cf. WBGU (note 30), at 15 et seq.; Docherty / Giannini (note 11), at 385 et seq.
328 ulrich beyerlin

II. Human Rights Solutions

Whether a person involved in an environmental flight situation may
successfully claim human rights protection depends mainly on the
answers to two questions: firstly, is there any human rights guarantee
which an environmental migrant in distress may invoke with a reason­
able chance of success? Secondly, against whom may the migrant direct
such a human rights claim?
As regards the first question, at the regional level, migrants perhaps
may ground an application for protection and/or assistance in due
form on human rights guarantees such as Articles 2 (right to life) and 8
(right to respect for private and family life) of the 1950 European
Convention on Human Rights, Articles 21 (peoples’ freedom to dis­
pose of their own natural resources) and 24 (right to a satisfactory
environment) of the 1981 African (Banjul) Charter on Human and
Peoples’ Rights and Articles 10 (right to health) and 11 (right to healthy
environment) of the 1988 Additional Protocol to the American
Convention on Human Rights in the Area of Economic, Social and
Cultural Rights (Protocol of San Salvador).
At the universal level of human rights protection, people threatened
or forced to migrate for compelling environmental reasons may invoke
Article 11 (1) of the 1966 International Covenant on Economic, Social
and Cultural Rights (ICESCR) which provides “the right of everyone to
an adequate standard of living for himself and his family, including
adequate food, clothing and housing”, or Article 12 (1) ICESCR which
establishes “the right of everyone to the enjoyment of the highest
attainable standard of physical and mental health”.
As regards the second question, naturally it is the home state which
owes its citizens the fulfilment of its obligation to respect, protect and
fulfil flowing from human rights guarantees under any human rights
treaty it has entered into. Accordingly, in cases where severe environ­
mental degradation results in widespread internal displacement of citi­
zens, the home state concerned is obliged to offer them adequate
human rights protection.
In principle, this also holds true for environmental flight situations
where the affected citizens feel forced to leave the home state’s territory
to take permanent refuge abroad. Legally speaking, in such a case there
is no reason to absolve the home state concerned from its obligations
under any international human rights treaty to which it is a party.
However, as a matter of fact, it will often be permanently debarred
 environmental migration and international law329

from taking any positive action in favour of its emigrant citizens.

Especially in the worst case scenario of a small island state threatened
to be swamped by the ocean, the emigrant citizen in need of protection
may make a human rights complaint against any third state suspected
to have essentially contributed to global warming, and thus eventually
to the emigrant’s concrete environmental flight situation.
Is it possible to sue a third state commonly known to be among the
main causers of greenhouse gas emissions for having committed a vio­
lation of the emigrants’ human rights? Let us suppose that a person
forced to emigrate from a small island state in the Pacific brings a
human rights application against one of the states parties to the 1950
European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR) before the European
Court of Human Rights (ECtHR) with the argument that the state
concerned, by its considerable greenhouse gas emissions, has essen­
tially contributed to rising sea levels and eventually to the disappear­
ance of the island in question, thereby acting in violation of Article 2 or
Article 8 of the ECHR. Is it imaginable that the ECtHR might decide in
favour of the applicant state?
In light of the ECtHR’s 2001 judgment in the case of Bankovic v.
Belgium,37 such an application would be most likely to be declared
inadmissible. The facts of the Bankovic case were as follows: in 1999,
during the Kosovo crisis, NATO forces in which Belgium and nine
other states participated launched massive air strikes against the
Federal Republic of Yugoslavia (FRY). In the bombing of Belgrade sev­
eral Serbian nationals were killed or seriously injured. The applicants,
close relatives of these victims, complained about the bombing by
invoking in particular the right to life as laid down in Article 2 ECHR.
In its Bankovic judgment of 12 December 2001, the Grand Chamber of
the ECtHR declared the complaint against the respondent states inad­
missible, because it was not persuaded “that there was any jurisdic­
tional link between the persons who were victims of the act complained
of and the respondent States”.38 Article 1 ECHR provides that states

37
 See its text in 41 ILM 517 (2002). For a comment on this judgment see e.g.
M. Happold, Bankovic v. Belgium and the Territorial Scope of the European Conven­
tion on Human Rights, 3 Human Rights Law Review 77 (2003); S. Miller, Revisiting
Extraterritorial Jurisdiction: A Territorial Justification for Extraterritorial Jurisdiction
under the European Convention, 20 European Journal of International Law 1223
(2009).
38
Para. 82 of the Bankovic judgment, id., at 530.
330 ulrich beyerlin

parties to the ECHR “shall secure to everyone within their jurisdiction

the rights and freedoms … of the Convention”. The existence of such a
jurisdictional link is an indispensable prerequisite for any conviction of
a respondent state. Referring to its former case law the ECtHR made it
plain that “recognition of the exercise of extra-territorial jurisdiction
by a Contracting state is exceptional”. In its view, the assumption of
extra-territorial jurisdiction requires that “the respondent State,
through the effective control of the relevant territory and its inhabit­
ants abroad as a consequence of military occupation or through the
consent, invitation or acquiescence of the government of that territory,
exercises all or some of the public powers normally to be exercised by
that Government”.39 The Grand Chamber explicitly declared that this
did not apply to the case at hand. It clearly rejected the applicants’ argu­
ment that the bombing of Belgrade by the respondent states was an
example of an extra-territorial act that can be accommodated by the
notion of “jurisdiction” in Article 1 ECHR.40
This reasoning of the Bankovic judgment can be fully transposed to
the worst case scenario of a doomed small island state whose citizens
feel forced to emigrate. There is no doubt that in the Bankovic case the
ECtHR has been right to argue that a state, by its participation in the
bombing of foreign territory that results in the killing of several peo­
ples alone, has not taken effective control of these victims. Exactly the
same holds true for a state which is among the main causers of global
warming, rising sea-levels, and thus eventually of the disappearance of
low-lying islands: by such an extra-territorial act alone it has not taken
effective control of the victimised citizens of the small island state.
Consequently, emigrant citizens of the Pacific island would hardly suc­
ceed with their application before the ECtHR. This finding also applies
to human rights treaty regimes other than the ECHR, for instance the
1966 ICCPR (Article 2 [1]), the thereto related Optional Protocol
(Article 1), and the 1978 American Convention on Human Rights
(Article 1), which contain jurisdictional clauses which are almost iden­
tical to that in Article 1 ECHR.
Thus, all over the world environmental emigrants will hardly have a
chance to win human rights cases. Aware of that, the international
community of states should feel morally obliged to substitute any home
state which is barred from acting as human rights protector in favour

39
Para. 71, id., at 528.
 See para. 74 of the judgment, id., at 529.
40
 environmental migration and international law331

of its emigrant citizens. Driven by solidarity,41 it should generally feel

obliged to support any state which itself and its citizens have become
the victim of serious environmental degradation. It should mandate
existing international institutions, such as UNEP, the United Nations
Development Programme (UNDP), the International Organisation for
Migration (IOM), the UNHCR, and the UN Office for the Coordination
of Humanitarian Affairs, to coordinate their efforts to prevent environ­
mental situations which may give rise to people being displaced, to
improve early warning and monitoring systems with the aim of prepar­
ing vulnerable communities better for environmental disasters, to mit­
igate the detrimental effects of displacement, to rehabilitate affected
areas in order to return displaced persons to their homes, and, where
such a return is impossible, permanently to resettle the displaced per­
sons in new host areas abroad.42

E. Conclusions

The starting point for all endeavours to cope effectively with the chal­
lenge of environmental migration should be the acknowledgement that
due to the different legal status of environmental emigrants and envi­
ronmental IDPs the measures taken for protecting and assisting the
former subgroup of environmental migrants necessarily differ from
those taken in favour of the latter subgroup, because internally dis­
placed citizens still keep within the jurisdiction of their home state,
with the consequence that third states are prevented from intervening
in favour of those citizens, at least as long as the home state concerned
has not come into conflict with fundamental rules of international
human rights law. Respect for foreign states’ sovereignty sets rather
narrow limits to any third state action in favour of environmental IDPs.
Such action can never be inflicted on the home state concerned against
its will.
There may be cases where environmental IDPs can claim human
rights protection on their own behalf. However, there is no denying
that human rights protection, by its very nature, is rather limited in

41
 Cf. U. Beyerlin / T. Marauhn, International Environmental Law, (2011), at 35 et
seq., with ample references; K. Wellens, Revisiting Solidarity as a (Re-)Emerging
Constitutional Principle: Some Further Reflections, in: R. Wolfrum / C. Kojima (eds.),
Solidarity: A Structural Principle of International Law, at 3 (2010).
42
For more details see King (note 2), at 559 et seq.
332 ulrich beyerlin

its jurisdictional scope. Thus, whenever human rights protection

reaches its jurisdictional limit, it is up to the state community to initiate
collective action aimed at protecting and assisting distressed environ­
men­tal IDPs.
In cases where the citizens of a state feel forced to emigrate for envi­
ronmental reasons the legal situation is different. Especially in the
worst case scenario of a small island state doomed to extinction there
is no such impediment for third state action directed at protecting and
assisting affected citizens. In such an exceptional situation the interna­
tional community of states virtually substitutes itself for the home state
in its function as a protector of its citizens. The international commu­
nity is called upon to start adequate solidarity-driven relief action. For
instance, it may mandate individual states to provide for the evacua­
tion, resettlement and satisfaction of the basic needs of all acutely
imperilled environmental emigrants. States ready to provide such kind
of assistance must count on being financially supported by others.
According to the concept of common but differentiated responsibility it
is primarily up to the main causers of global climate change among the
states to bear the costs of taking all necessary measures to protect and
assist these helpless people.
 Institution Building in the UN-Human Rights-
System–The Committee on the Elimination of
Racial Discrimination (CERD)

Brun-Otto Bryde

I was the successor to Rüdiger Wolfrum as an expert in the Committee

on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination (CERD), and when I
joined the Committee I very much benefited from the reputation the
German expert had gained through the work of Rüdiger Wolfrum and
his predecessor (and academic teacher) Karl Josef Partsch. CERD does
not get much attention in the literature on international law, even less
then other monitoring bodies of the UN Human rights system, and
most contributions have been written by members of the Committee1
or their students.2 This is a pity because the work of the Committee
could benefit from academic critical commentary and international

1
 M. Banton, International Action Against Racial Discrimination (1996);
J. L. Gomez del Prado, United Nations Conventions on Human Rights: The Practice of
the Human Rights Committee and the Committee on the Elimination of Racial
Discrimination in Dealing with Reporting Obligations of States Parties, 7 Human
Rights Quarterly 492 (1985); K.J. Partsch, The Committee on the Elimination of Racial
Discrimination, in: P. Alston (ed.), The United Nations and Human Rights: A Critical
Appraisal, 339 (1992); K.J. Partsch, Racial Speech and Human Rights: Article 4 of the
Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination, in: S. Coliver
(ed.), Striking a Balance: Hate Speech, Freedom of Expression and Non-Discrimination,
21 (1992); K.J. Partsch, Racial Discrimination, in: R. Wolfrum (ed.), United Nations:
Law, Policies and Practice, 1003 (1995); Y. Rechetov, Incitement of National Enmity in
the Context of International Law: Foreign and Soviet Practice, in: Y. Dinstein/
M. Tabory (eds.), 22 Israel Yearbook on Human Rights 83 (1992); R. Wolfrum, Das
Verbot der Rassendiskriminierung im Spannungsfeld zwischen dem Schutz individu-
eller Freiheitsrechte und der Verpflichtung des einzelnen im Allgemeininteresse, in:
E. Denninger (ed.), Kritik und Vertrauen: Festschrift für Peter Schneider, 515 (1990);
B.-O. Bryde, Die Tätigkeit des Ausschusses gegen jede Form der Rassendiskriminierung
(CERD), in: E. Klein (ed.), Rassische Diskriminierung–Erscheinungsformen und
Bekämpfungsmöglichkeiten, 61 (2002); G. Britz, Die Individualbeschwerde nach
Art. 14 des Internationalen Übereinkommens zur Beseitigung jeder Form von
Rassendiskriminierung/Zur Einführung des Individualbeschwerdeverfahrens in
Deutschland, Europäische Grundrechtezeitschrift 381 (2002); P. Thornberry,
Confronting Racial Discrimination: A CERD Perspective, 5 Human Rights Law
Review 239 (2005).
2
Rüdiger Wofrum acted as a second reader for the excellent thesis on Aricle 5f of
the convention by Michaela Fries: M. Fries, Die Bedeutung von Artikel 5 (f) der
Rassendiskriminierungskonvention im deutschen Recht/The Meaning of Article 5 (f)
334 brun-otto bryde

human rights law doctrine could benefit from a thorough study of the
Committee’s practice.
This lack of interest is in no way warranted. CERD has had a seminal
function for international human rights, and it has special traits which
are of importance for international human rights law doctrine. In addi-
tion, it is a very good example of the successful and progressive career
of a human rights institution in the UN system where sceptical observ-
ers might have predicted failure.

A. A Fruitful Misunderstanding

Its most important role as the first of the human rights committees3 is
as a pathfinder for the others. On a global level the international moni-
toring of national human rights policies by an international committee
of independent experts that reviews state reports about their perfor-
mance of obligations under human rights treaties started here. And
even at this early stage we find the individual complaints procedure
(Article 14 ICERD) and–although not hitherto used–a state complaint
(Article 15).
If one considers that the states were at this time (1965) even
more protective of their sovereignty then they are today, one might
wonder why they were ready to submit themselves to such supervision
of their national policies in the highly sensitive field of race relations.
The answer may lie in a fundamental but fruitful misunderstanding.
For the states which concluded the treaty in the early 1960s racial
discrimination was something others were doing (apartheid in South
Africa), something which was in the process of being overcome (Jim
Crow laws in the US) or history (holocaust). The contracting
states, therefore, saw no big problem in submitting to international
supervision of their national policies because, according to their
self-understanding, there was no racial discrimination in their
territories.
It was the first task of CERD to convince the contracting states that
this view was erroneous, that there was racial discrimination in every

of the International Convention of the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination

under German Law (2003).
3
The International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial
Discrimination (ICERD) entered into force on 4 January 1969, seven years before the
other human rights treaties.
 institution building in the un-human rights-system335

society and that every state had to accept scrutiny.4 But it is not only the
fact that the Committee was the first treaty body that defines its place
in international human rights law. It also holds a special role because of
its mandate in fighting discrimination. This mandate is not restricted
to the defence of human rights against the state. From the outset the
convention put great emphasis on the positive functions of human
rights.5
This was very important for the practical impact of the convention,
and again points to the underestimation of its importance by its
authors: open and direct racial discrimination by legislation has indeed
pretty much disappeared with the end of the apartheid system. But
indirect, factual and social discrimination against minorities (or
excluded majorities) unfortunately remains a world wide problem, in
some parts of the world–not least Europe with its recent wave of
Muslimophobia–it is even on the rise. It is here that the convention has
its main focus.
Article 4, one of the convention’s central provisions, requires states
to protect their citizens against other citizens by making racist propa-
ganda and racist actions a criminal offence. Such a duty to prosecute is
remarkable in a human rights treaty. Already at this early stage of the
development of international human rights law we find a positive duty
to protect, and to protect by criminal sanctions.
Similarly, for the disputed question to what extent human rights
should not only protect against legal but also against factual dis
crimination, and to what extent it asks for positive measures (e.g.
“affirmative action”) ICERD is relatively clear. While Article 2 para. 2
establishes directly merely that positive measures are not forbidden,
the inclusion of social rights in the catalogue of rights that have to
be guaranteed without discrimination (Article 5) means–certainly in
the view of the committee–that the states are under an obligation to
fight factual discrimination on the labour market, in education, in the
provision of health services and in housing. Whenever statistical
evidence (e.g. higher unemployment rates, lower participation in
higher education) points to the insufficient representation of those

4
Cf. General Recommendation II: States parties’ obligations (Article 9), 26 February
1972, in: Compilation of general recommendations adopted by the Committee on the
Elimination of Racial Discrimination, 8 May 2006, UN Doc. HRI/GEN/1/Rev.8 (2006),
at 239 et seq.
5
 On positive functions of human rights cf. B.-O. Bryde, Fundamental Rights as
Guidelines and Inspiration, 25 Wisconsin International Law Journal 189 (2007).
336 brun-otto bryde

groups the convention intends to protect the committee will voice

concern.
Finally, the highly controversial question whether anti-discrimina-
tion provisions have horizontal application can clearly be answered for
ICERD. Article 5 et seq. contains a guarantee of access to public ser-
vices which is obviously directed especially towards discriminatory
treatment by private parties. If we consider again that CERD is the old-
est of the Treaty Bodies it is remarkable that its mandate includes from
the outset very modern concepts of human rights: protective duties,
affirmative action, and horizontal application.

B. Building Effective Control Mechanisms

I. Strengthening the Reporting Process

CERD’s start was inconspicuous. The first generation of state reports
tended to be short and generalized. They claimed that in their respec-
tive countries racial discrimination was not even imaginable because it
was forbidden in the constitution; or–for socialist countries–socialism
had done away with it; or–for Islamic countries–it was a violation of
the Quran. Under these conditions the anti-discrimination provisions
required by the convention were deemed unnecessary and the states
were also very negligent in their reporting duties.6
The role of the Committee was also curtailed by the fact that the
experts defined their role rather narrowly. No evidence outside the
state reports was admitted. When a state simply claimed there was no
racial discrimination there was no way to challenge this. Politically
many of the Committee members saw themselves–in the ideologically
polarized environment of the cold war–as defenders of their own allies,
if not of state sovereignty as such.
On the other hand no institution likes to be useless. The people cho-
sen as experts had no desire to act purely as a letterbox for useless mes-
sages. Regularly the states selected experts of high professional
standing, often because of their record in fighting racism. When they
arrived at the UN they wanted to do something about it. So in a slow
but soon accelerating process the Committee started to extent its scru-
tiny, and thereby became a pathfinder for the treaty bodies created
thereafter.

6
 M. Banton (note 1), at 102 et seq.
 institution building in the un-human rights-system337

The system of reporting duties, central to the monitoring of human

rights treaties, has an obvious weakness, at least if construed narrowly.
If only the state report can be the basis for the Committee’s monitoring
job, a state that fails to report cannot be supervised and nor can a state
that drafts a useless report. It was an extremely important decision by
the Committee–after acrimonious disputes–to remove this restriction.
This changed the monitoring of state reports completely, because these
could now be questioned with the help of other sources which made it
useless for states to try to hide obvious factual information about the
situation in their countries. It became a much more sensible approach
to engage in a frank dialogue with the Committee about the problems
countries were facing.
Another important new feature was the appointment of Country
Rapporteurs.7 These prepare for the Committee’s consideration of
reporting–or non-reporting–states. The rapporteur, but also other
members of the committee, will today go into the session after a thor-
ough advance study of the problems in the country under considera-
tion. The states have learned to take the Committee seriously. The
Committee has educated them by “reporting guidelines” about the
information it is looking for and those states that can afford to will
present their reports with a delegation of experts who are able to answer
the Committee’s questions.
This new quality of the Committee’s work was possible only with the
help of civil society. When the Committee abandoned the restriction to
the materials in the reports it did not just open the way to the members’
own research. But the Committee now receives comprehensive
information from NGOs working in the field. NGOs have found the
Committee to be a useful addressee for their lobbying. Country
Rapporteurs receive a lot of material on the countries in their respon-
sibility. Often in the lunch break before a country comes up for
discussion, NGOs will informally brief those members who are inter-
ested. In some countries NGOs now prepare a shadow report to the
official report highlighting its deficiencies. Some countries now accept
this and will inform the relevant NGOs at early stages about their
reports. This role of NGOs has transformed the bipolar relationship
between state and Committee into a triangular one (CERD-State-civil
society).

 Since 1988, M. Banton (note 1), at 146.

7
338 brun-otto bryde

On the basis of substantial state reports and a wealth of additional

material CERD is able to get a very comprehensive picture of the
situation of minorities in a country. This will be evaluated in the
Committee’s “Concluding Observations”. The time when a state could
count on diplomatic Committee members to defend state sovereignty
has gone. Given CERD’s ambitious interpretation of the treaty obliga-
tions which no state is able to fulfil completely all states will meet with
criticism. But this criticism will usually take the form of concern and
observations, not a statement of violation of treaty obligations.
“Concluding Observations” are prepared by the Country Rapporteur
with the help of the secretariat.8 They are regularly passed by
consensus–with many hours spent in attempts to find compromise
formulations.9

II. Developing New Instruments

CERD has not just found ways to strengthen its main task–the scrutiny
of country reports. In addition it has developed new instruments. To
counter the problem of the non-reporting state CERD developed the
“review procedure”.10 If a state is too late with its report the Committee
can monitor the state’s performance of its duties even without a report.
While in the beginning the Committee kept close to the original con-
cept by using earlier reports, later it used reports presented to other
UN bodies. Meanwhile any restriction to actual reports has been aban-
doned and the Committee will evaluate the state’s performance with
the help of all material available to it.
In a further step the Committee moved from reacting to reports to
action and preventive measures. It introduced “early warning meas-
ures” und “urgent action procedures” so as to be able to react quickly to
serious developments within the area of its mandate.11 These instru-
ments were used for the first time in relation to Kosovo, and then with
respect to Rwanda and Burundi. But it is no longer restricted to such
extreme cases. In 1998 the Committee put an “urgent action” on its

8
 All UN human rights institutions are understaffed: they can function only with
the help of student interns and volunteers.
9
The process is very transparent because of the publication of the summary records
on the internet.
10
 M. Banton (note 1), at 150 et seq.
11
Id., at 161 et seq.
 institution building in the un-human rights-system339

agenda when Australia planned to change land law to the detriment of

Aborigines.12
Finally, the Committee in 2000 developed a completely new instru-
ment with the introduction of thematic discussions. In view of the fact
that in many country reports and in individual complaints the problem
of the situation of the Roma in Eastern Europe turned up, the commit-
tee decided to hold a general debate on this problem to which repre-
sentatives of the Roma were also invited. The session concluded with a
broad General Recommendation.13 Informally some states questioned
whether the Committee had kept within its mandate with such a depar-
ture from the monitoring of country reports, but no state raised the
question officially. Quite the contrary: most states accepted the
Committee’s invitation to present materials for that session, thereby
acknowledging its legality. In the next few years similar discussions
were held on discrimination based on descent (with special empha-
sis on caste),14 non-citizens15 and affirmative action. Thematic discus-
sions begin with an informal session to hear the representatives of
NGOs and states parties. The evidence thus gathered is discussed in the
committee and the discussion results in a general recommendation.

III. Broadening the Mandate

The committee did not just strengthen its procedures; one can observe
an expansive understanding of its supervisory function with respect to
the reach of its mandate. From the start there has been a common mis-
understanding about the scope of the convention because of the short-
hand expression “racial” for the kind of discrimination that the
convention and Committee are asked to address. In the meaning of the
convention “racial” discrimination covers “any distinction, exclusion,

12
Report of the Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination, 29
September 1999, UN Doc. A/54/18 (1999), at 23.
13
 General Recommendation XXVII: Discrimination against Roma, 16 August
2000, in: Compilation of general recommendations adopted by the Committee on the
Elimination of Racial Discrimination, 8 May 2006, UN Doc. HRI/GEN/1/Rev.8 (2006),
at 259 et seq.
14
 General Recommendation XXIX: Article 1, paragraph 1 of the Convention
(Descent), 1 November 2002, in: Compilation of general recommendations adopted by
the Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination (note 13), at 267 et seq.
15
 General Recommendation XXX: Discrimination Against Non Citizens, 1 October
2004, in: Compilation of general recommendations adopted by the Committee on the
Elimination of Racial Discrimination (note 13), at 272 et seq.
340 brun-otto bryde

restriction or preference based on race, colour, descent, or national or

ethnic origin”. The concept of race–of doubtful value anyhow–is there-
fore much too narrow. Instead, CERD has a broad mandate to fight
different forms of discrimination for a broad range of minority groups
(or excluded majorities). But even given a very liberal interpretation,
CERD has no comprehensive mandate to protect minorities. There
have been repeated controversies about its reach concerning certain
groups.

1. Foreign Nationals
A controversial point has been the question whether discrimination
against migrant labour and refugees is covered. At the outset, the law
appears to be clear. Article 1 para. 2 allows states to distinguish between
nationals and non-nationals. Some states, including Germany, derived
from this a right not to inform the Committee at all about the living
conditions of migrant labour. The Committee rejected the position: it
insists not only in reports about the situation of non-citizens;16 in its
opinion any discrimination which is not closely bound to nationality
law, like political rights, is discrimination according to national origin.
This is of special importance for Arts. 4 and 5. The duty to protect and
horizontal application apply also to non-citizens.17

2. Religion
A controversial point is also the relationship between racial and reli-
gious discrimination. Here too, the law is clear at the outset. Religion
was purposely not included in the convention. But in many parts of the
world ethnic and religious group identification is closely intertwined.
The religion of individuals is regularly a result of their belonging to a
descent group. Excluding religious discrimination would therefore
make it very easy for states to hide racial discrimination with religious
grounds. The Committee therefore has to take religious discrimination
into account and it increasingly does so. Its practice is somewhat con-
tradictory. Some members vigorously oppose any reference to religious

16
 General Recommendation XI: Non-citizens (Art. 1), 19 March 1993, in:
Compilation of general recommendations adopted by the Committee on the
Elimination of Racial Discrimination (note 13), at 245 et seq.
17
Cf. now General Recommendation XXX: Discrimination Against Non Citizens, 1
October 2004, in: Compilation of general recommendations adopted by the Committee
on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination (note 13), at 272 et seq.
 institution building in the un-human rights-system341

groups in the near east,18 while the same members criticize (justified)
Muslimophobia in the West.19

3. Caste
Another controversy has surrounded the question whether the caste
system was “discrimination based on descent” under Article 1. Dalit
organizations lobbied the committee to address their plight. This was
disputed for a long time especially by India. While not denying the
seriousness of caste discrimination, which after all is fought also by the
Indian constitution, it was not considered a racial problem because
Dalit were Indians like other Indians.20 On the other hand Nepal, with
a similar tradition of caste discrimination, accepted the Committee’s
scrutiny.21 Meanwhile discrimination based on descent has been the
subject of the thematic discussion22 and there is no doubt that the
Committee will continue to include it in the meaning of racial
discrimination.

C. Conclusion

CERD is an excellent case study for an international human rights

institution which has developed its institutional capacity against huge
odds. In the sociology of international law an important aspect of
international organizations is the creation of support structures for
community interests. International office-holders, including the
experts on human rights commissions, join international organiza-
tions when proposed by their national governments–which often are
violators rather then protectors of human rights–and their election is
often the result of political deals. But regularly, sooner rather than later,
they develop a strong identification with the organization’s mandate
and try to make it work. Because of its comprehensive overview of

18
Cf. for Bahrain: Aboul-Nasr, Summary record of the 1390th meeting, 24 January
2001, UN Doc. CERD/C/SR.1390 (2001), at para. 60.
19
Cf. for Finland: Aboul-Nasr, Summary record of the 1404th meeting, 9 August
2000, UN Doc. CERD/C/SR.1404 (2000), at para. 2.
20
 Summary record of the 1161st meeting, 1 November 1996, UN Doc. CERD/C/
SR.1161 (1996).
21
1415th meeting, 9 August 2000, UN Doc. CERD/C/SR.1415 (2000).
22
 Summary record of the 1531st meeting, 16 August 2002, UN Doc. CERD/C/
SR.1531 (2002).
342 brun-otto bryde

minority issues world wide, CERD can engage in a fruitful dialogue

with states parties, and has had a considerable influence on the interna-
tional development of anti-discrimination legislation.
CERD and the other human rights committees created to monitor
compliance with the UN human rights treaties play an important role
in the constitutionalization of international law.23 While their instru-
ments for enforcing human rights are modest, their methodology is
clearly constitutionalist. They take the treaties, ratified by the states
often more for propaganda reasons than with a real commitment to
their content, by their word and expound their meaning far beyond
what the drafters imagined them to contain. In a continuing discussion
process with the states they have managed to make substantial progress
in the guarantee of human rights world wide. For this purpose they
have created their own specific instruments which appear to be very
well adapted to their tasks. Whether at the present state of the interna-
tional community a world human rights court would be preferable24 is
highly debatable. The more flexible combination of monitoring,
expressing concern and advising undertaken by the committees has its
own functionality.

23
B.-O. Bryde, Konstitutionalisierung des Völkerrechts und Internationalisierung
des Verfassungsrechts, 42 Der Staat 61 (2003).
24
 T. Buergenthal, A Court and Two Consolidated Treaty Bodies, in: A.F. Bayefsky
(ed.), The UN Human Rights System in the 21st Century, 299 (2000).
 Labour Relations before the Strasbourg Court

Lucius Caflisch*

A. Introduction1

When writing of workers’ and social rights in Europe, the European

Social Charter of 1961 and its revised version2 immediately come
to mind. But over a hundred cases decided by the European Court
of Human Rights (“ECtHR”, “Court”, “Strasbourg Court”) show that
labour relations also are a topic in the context of the 1950 European
Convention on Human Rights (“ECHR”, “Convention” or “1950 Con­
vention”)3 and of the Court established by that instrument. The Court’s
case law regarding these relations focuses on Article 4 (prohibition
of slavery and forced labour), Article 6 (1) (fair trial), Article 8 (right
to respect for private and family life), Article 9 (freedom of thought,
conscience and religion), Article 10 (freedom of expression) and
Article 11 (freedom of assembly and association) of the Convention.
Complaints arising out of Article 11 may spawn grievances about dis­
crimination (Article 14), and considerations associated with Article 9
of the Convention (freedom of thought); and problems of access to
courts–under Article 6 (1)–may raise arguments over the broader
provision of Article 13 (right to an effective remedy on the domestic
level). Only two of the provisions just mentioned directly bear on
labour relations: Articles 4 and 11, the second of which, however, deals

* The present contribution is a revised and updated version of a lecture delivered at

the International Labour Office (ILO) on 4 November 2009.
1
 On the topic mentioned in the title see generally T. Novitz, International and
European Protection of the Right to Strike: A Comparative Study of Standards Set by
the International Labour Organization, the Council of Europe and the European
Union (2003); M. Forde, The European Convention on Human Rights and Labor Law,
31 American Journal of Comparative Law 301 (1983).
2
 European Social Charter, 18 October 1961, ETS No. 35; European Social Charter
(Revised), 3 May 1996, id., No. 163.
3
Id., No. 5.
344 lucius caflisch

with the freedom of association generally and covers both the personal
and professional (trade unions) spheres.
The present author is not a specialist of labour relations in the frame­
work of the ECHR and has participated in the consideration of only
two cases to be examined in this chapter, Federation of Offshore Workers’
Trade Unions and Others v. Norway and Pellegrin v. France.4 To prepare
the present assignment, he has studied some 30 cases considered to be
the most important on the Court’s website.
In many of the cases submitted to it, the Strasbourg Court has taken
account of elements outside the 1950 Convention, of its constituent
instrument such as the European Social Charter and ILO Conventions,
as well as of findings by ILO Committees. To discharge its duties, the
Court has thus called on extraneous elements to interpret provisions of
its own Convention, as will be shown when dealing with the case of
Demir and Baykara (Tüm Bel Sen) v. Turkey.5 It has also applied general
rules of international law when labour issues could not be solved oth­
erwise. Such was the case in complaints concerning forced labour dur­
ing the Second World War (Associazione Nazionale Reduci dalla
Prigionia v. Germany; Wos v. Poland),6 which was a problem essentially
related to the law of armed conflicts. Such was also the case in issues
pertaining to labour relations between individuals and States or inter­
governmental organisations, where conflicts may arise between the
right of access to courts under Article 6 (1) of the 1950 Convention and
immunity from suit (and execution) of sovereign States and intergov­
ernmental organisations–an issue which will be briefly dealt with in the
context of that provision.
After this introduction the moment has come to examine a small
fraction of the ECtHR’s case-law, starting with Articles 4 and 6 of the
1950 Convention, and continuing with Articles 8, 9, 10 and 11, the last-
mentioned being the pièce de résistance.

4
 ECtHR, Federation of Offshore Workers’ Trade Unions and Others v. Norway,
Decision of 27 June 2002, Appl. No. 38190/97; ECtHR, Pellegrin v. France, GC Judgment
of 8 December 1999, Appl. No. 28541/95. For a commentary on Pellegrin, cf., by the
present author, The Pellegrin Ruling: Origin and Consequences, in: L.C. V. et al. (eds.),
Man’s Inhumanity to Man. Essays on International Law in Honour of Antonio Cassese,
125 (2003).
5
 ECtHR, Demir and Baykara (Tüm Bel Sen) v. Turkey, GC, Judgment of 12
November 2008, Appl. No. 34503/97.
6
 ECtHR, Associazione Nazionale Reduci dalla Prigionia v. Germany, Decision of 4
September 2007, Appl. No. 45563/04; ECtHR, Wos v. Poland, Judgment of 8 June 2006,
Appl. No. 22860/02.
 labour relations before the strasbourg court345

B. Article 4 of the Convention

Article 4 of the ECHR provides: “1. No one shall be held in slavery or

servitude. 2. No one shall be required to perform forced or compulsory
labour”, such labour not including, according to paragraph 3 of Article
4, work done in the ordinary course of detention or on conditional
release, military service or service exacted in replacement of such ser­
vice, service required in emergency situations, or service forming part
of normal civic duties.
In the early case of Van der Mussele v. Belgium,7 the Court had
refused to see slave labour in the employment of a trainee lawyer (avo-
cat-stagiaire) who, in order to become a member of the bar, had to per­
form legal work for nearly nothing. To call this forced labour would
have been inappropriate, because passage through a training period is,
as many lawyers know, an indispensable step for attaining the Parnassus
of the legal profession.8
Far more serious was the situation faced by a minor Togolese girl
who, in exchange for assistance to obtain the permits necessary for
staying in France, was required to work gruelling hours and days in
domestic employment, for changing employers and with no pay. This
situation, which had lasted for some time, culminated in an application
to the ECtHR for a breach of Article 4. The Court found that the appli­
cant had indeed been subjected to forced labour and that the 1950
Convention, as a “living instrument”, had to be interpreted in the con­
text of present-day circumstances, which suggested assimilating “servi­
tude” to “slavery”. France had breached the positive obligation to
protect individuals against violations of Article 4 and to prosecute and
punish those exploiting the victim.9 Indeed, such situations are not
uncommon, often involving the personnel of diplomats or of interna­
tional civil servants.

C. Article 6 of the Convention

Article 6 (1) of the ECHR prescribes that “[i]n the determination of

his civil rights and obligations or of any criminal charge against him,

7
 ECtHR, Van der Mussele v. Belgium, Judgment of 23 November 1983, Appl. No.
8919/80, Series A, No. 70.
8
 Id., paras. 36–41.
9
 ECtHR, Siliadin v. France, Judgment of 26 July 2005, Appl. No. 73316/01, paras. 64
et seq., 111–129.
346 lucius caflisch

everyone is entitled to a fair […] hearing […] by an independent and

impartial tribunal established by law”. This right includes access to such
a tribunal on the domestic level, as pointed out by the Strasbourg Court
in Golder v. United Kingdom.10
In this connexion two precedents are of interest. In Obermeier v.
Austria,11 a physically disabled local insurance agent had been sus­
pended and subsequently dismissed by his company on account of a
dispute over various paid activities. However, suspension and dismissal
were possible under Austrian law only with the prior consent of the
“Works Council” and, in the case of a disabled person, the agreement
of the Disabled Persons Board. Generally, the entire procedure was
considered to be one of administrative and labour law, whereas the
suspension and dismissal of the applicant were issues of civil rights
and obligations. This was what prompted the applicant to complain,
under Article 6 (1) of the Convention, that his access to a tribunal
had been restricted and that his case had not been dealt with in a
reasonable time.
The issue arising on the international level was the lawfulness of the
applicant’s suspension and dismissal, a civil-law issue falling within the
purview of Article 6 (1) of the Convention. That issue had not been
fully examined by the Disabled Persons Board, whose only duty it was
to determine whether the measure was justified from a social point of
view; and the Administrative Court, to which the case was subse­
quently taken, only had jurisdiction to decide whether the subordinate
administrative bodies had used their powers responsibly. Thus
Obermeier’s case had not been reviewed fully by them, which was why
the Strasbourg Court found a violation of Article 6 (1).
The case of AB Kurt Kellermann v. Sweden12 related to another facet
of Article 6 (1). The applicant had refused to conclude with a trade
union (TU) an agreement of a type specially designed for governing
labour relations involving companies not affiliated to any employers’
association. This induced the Union to take industrial action, where­
upon the company brought the matter before the competent labour
court which judged the Union’s action to be lawful.13 Before the ECtHR,

10
 ECtHR, Golder v. United Kingdom, Judgment of 21 February 1975, Appl. No.
4451/70, Series A, No. 18, paras. 32–35.
11
 ECtHR, Obermeier v. Austria, Judgment of 28 June 1990, Appl. No. 11761/85,
Series A, No. 179.
12
 ECtHR, AB Kurt Kellermann v. Sweden, Judgment of 26 October 2004, Appl. No.
41579/98.
13
 Id., para. 25.
 labour relations before the strasbourg court347

the applicant contended that the labour court did not have the inde­
pendence and impartiality required by Article 6 (1) of the 1950
Convention: in addition to two professional judges, that court included
five lay assessors, one appointed for his/her special knowledge of the
labour market, two by employees’ associations and two by employers’
associations. The Strasbourg Court held that the lay assessors had
specialised experience in the matters placed before the labour court,
that there was a balance of interests in that body which was not upset,
that only one of the four lay assessors found for the company, and that
Article 11 of the Convention–of which more will be said later–was
interpreted correctly. Thus it inferred from the issue of the case on the
internal level that the domestic court had been correctly composed. In
these circumstances, it seems easy to sympathise with the dissenting
judges–MM. Garlicki and Borrego Borrego–who found that, as the
case was in reality one opposing a trade union and an employers’ asso­
ciation, on the one hand, to a company, on the other, the company was
entitled to a tribunal exclusively composed of professional judges. One
will note that the company had collapsed two months after the labour
court’s decision.
It is evident that sovereign States exercise public functions; to do
so they employ personnel. A question which has plagued the ECtHR
from the outset is whether labour relations between individuals and
the State generate “civil” rights which, as such, are covered and pro­
tected by Article 6 (1) of the Convention. For a long time the Court
and the European Commission of Human Rights had held that while
questions of “pecuniary interests” belonged to that category, the con­
trary was true for other issues such as dismissals and promotions.
This practice was subsequently abandoned–indeed, the existence of
“pecuniary interests” can be made out in nearly all disputes on
labour relations involving the State. Pellegrin v. France inaugurated
a new approach by holding that the protection of Article 6 (1), under
its “civil rights” angle, was unavailable to civil servants wielding part
of the State’s sovereign powers such as high officials, judges and
diplomats, but could be claimed by those not exercising such powers
(professors, doctors and nurses, street cleaners, etc.). This amounted
in fact to transposing to Article 6(1) the well-known distinction
between activities jure imperii and jure gestionis: those truly exercis­
ing public functions owe a special duty of loyalty to the State and
should not harass, or be seen as harassing, the object of their loyalty.
The distinction was perfectly rational and worked reasonably well
but fell victim to a further change in the case-law: in Eskelinen v.
348 lucius caflisch

Finland,14 the Court extended the scope of Article 6 (1). For that
provision not to apply, the respondent State now has to show: (i) that
its domestic law explicitly bars access to courts to the categories of
State employees seeking the protection of Article 6 (1); and (ii) that
“the subject matter of the dispute is related to the exercise of State
sovereignty”. These vague requirements carry the danger that in the
future all or nearly all claims will be considered “civil” within the
meaning of Article 6 (1) and this could conceivably herald a return to
Pellegrin.
To what extent can the employer State claim immunity in respect of
employment contracts? In general terms, there is no immunity from
suit for such contracts according to Article 11 of the 2004 Convention
on the Immunity of States and their Property,15 though there may be
immunity from execution. Nor does there seem to be any immunity in
respect of claims made by locally engaged embassy and consular per­
sonnel. A recent case before the ECtHR–Čudak v. Lithuania16–involved
a locally hired Lithuanian employee of the Polish Embassy in Vilnius
who had been dismissed because she had accused a Polish member of
the Embassy’s diplomatic staff of having behaved improperly towards
her. The case was recently decided on its merits by the Court’s Grand
Chamber, essentially on the basis of the rules of Article 11 of the 2004
Convention on immunity. In its judgment the Grand Chamber found
that the Lithuanian Supreme Court had erred in granting immunity to
Poland.17
Another problem arising in this context, employment relations
between individuals and intergovernmental organisations, is illus­
trated by the “Space Agency” cases, Waite and Kennedy v. Germany and
Beer and Regan v. Germany.18 These cases involved four employees
of a branch office of the European Space Agency (ESA) located in
Darmstadt (Germany), whose contracts had been cancelled and who
had sought relief from German labour courts. As the latter refused to

14
 ECtHR, Vilho Eskelinen and Others v. Finland, GC Judgment of 19 April 2007,
Appl. No. 63235/00.
15
 United Nations, The Work of the International Law Commission, Vol. II, 284 (7th
ed. 2007).
16
 ECtHR, Čudak v. Lithuania, Judgment of 23 March 2010, Appl. No. 15869/02.
17
 Id., paras. 54–75.
18
 ECtHR, Waite and Kennedy v. Germany, GC Judgment of 18 February 1999, No.
26083/94; ECtHR, Beer and Regan v. Germany, GC Judgment of 18 February 1999,
Appl. No. 28934/95.
 labour relations before the strasbourg court349

act on account of ESA’s sovereign immunity, the four employees

contended, before the ECtHR, that their right of access to a tribunal
secured by Article 6 (1) of the 1950 Convention had been breached.
The Court’s Grand Chamber ruled that the immunity of the
Organisation could prevail only if adequate judicial redress was
available within that entity. Such was the case for the ESA, and the
applicants had neglected to make use of it. In other words, to justify
the immunity of an intergovernmental organisation when confronted
with the human right of access to a tribunal secured by Article 6 (1)
of the ECHR, that organisation must establish that it offers “equivalent
judicial protection”. This would seem to be a creative and satisfac­
tory way of avoiding conflicts between the immunity of intergovern­
mental entities and the right of their employees to have access to a
tribunal.
From the above it follows that Article 6 (1) is a centrepiece of the
ECHR, be it in connexion with the status of individuals in general or
with their situation at the workplace.

D. Article 8 of the Convention

According to Article 8 (1) of the ECHR, “[e]veryone has the right to

respect for his private and family life, his home and his correspond­
ence”. Paragraph 2 of the Article provides that interferences by public
authorities are permissible only if they are “in accordance with the law”
and “necessary in a democratic society” to protect “national security,
public safety or the economic well-being of the country”, to prevent
“disorder or crime”, to protect “health or morals”, or to preserve the
“rights and freedoms of others”.
The case of Copland v. United Kingdom19 shows how Article 8 can
become relevant in the field of labour relations. Employed by a college
in Wales, the applicant had worked as a personal assistant to the
Principal and the Deputy-Principal of the College, an educational
institution administered by the State. Apparently at the initiative of the
Deputy-Principal, and without being informed of it, she was subjected
to a monitoring process for excessive personal use of College facilities
(telephone, e-mail and internet). Similar monitoring activities took

19
 ECtHR, Copland v. United Kingdom, Judgment of 3 April 2007, Appl. No.
62617/00.
350 lucius caflisch

place with regard to some other employees. The process did not, how­
ever, result in dismissal, and the applicant still works for the College.
The Court found a breach of Article 8, which protects the identity of
callers and their telephone numbers, as well as the content of e-mail
messages, especially since the applicant had not been informed of the
enquiry. The storing of personal data relating to the applicant’s private
life was also covered by Article 8 (1). Accordingly, an interference with
the right to respect for the applicant’s private life and correspondence
had occurred in the present case, the next question to be examined by
the Court being whether that interference was “in accordance with the
law”.
To meet this initial requirement under Article 8 (2), the interference
complained of must be in line not only with domestic law, but also with
the rule of law in general, in particular foreseeability:
“the law must be sufficiently clear in its terms to give individuals an ade­
quate indication as to the circumstances in which and the conditions on
which the authorities are empowered to resort to any such measures.”20
The fact that the College was allowed by statute to do “anything neces­
sary or expedient” to provide higher and further education did not, in
the Court’s view, satisfy the condition of foreseeability. In addition, at
the relevant time there were not, in general domestic law or in the gov­
erning instruments of the College, any provisions setting the condi­
tions under which the authorities could monitor the use by employees
of the telephone, the e-mail and the internet.21 Therefore the interfer­
ence was not, at the time, “in accordance with the law”, contrary to
what was prescribed by Article 8 (2); although, the Court adds, the
monitoring of an employee’s telephone calls, e-mail or internet use may
indeed, in certain situations, become “necessary in a democratic
society.”22
That there are other situations in which the conduct of labour
relations may collide with the necessity of protecting workers’ personal
lives is shown in Lustig-Prean and Beckett v. United Kingdom and
in Smith and Grady v. United Kingdom,23 although these cases are

20
 Id., para. 46.
21
 Id., para. 47.
22
 Id., para. 48.
23
 ECtHR, Lustig-Prean and Beckett v. United Kingdom, Judgment of 27 September
1999, Appl. Nos. 31417/96 and 32377/96; ECtHR, Smith and Grady v. United Kingdom,
Judgment of the same day, Appl. Nos. 33985/96 and 33986/96.
 labour relations before the strasbourg court351

somewhat special because the topic was national defence, the employer
being the armed forces. The applicants were senior officers whose pro­
fessional qualities were uncontested, but who turned out to be homo­
sexuals and, as such, were dismissed; the State justified the dismissals
by invoking the preservation of morale, discipline and effectiveness.
The Court disagreed. It concluded that there had been important inter­
ferences with private rights and that the objectives pursued did not jus­
tify the means used.
Both Copland and the armed forces cases–the gravity of the latter far
exceeding that of the former–perfectly illustrate the proposition that
labour relations and the right to respect for private life must be made
compatible. That need may generate conflicts.

E. Article 9 of the Convention

Article 9 of the ECHR provides that

“[e]veryone has the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion:
this right includes freedom to change his religion or belief and freedom,
either alone or in community with others and in public or private, to
manifest his religion or belief, in worship, teaching, practice and
observance.”
The freedom in question is, however, subject
“to such limitations as are prescribed by law and are necessary in a demo­
cratic society in the interests of public safety, for the protection of public
order, health or morals or for the protection of the rights and freedom of
others.”
The significance of Article 9 for labour relations may be illustrated by
Ivanova v. Bulgaria.24 A mechanical engineer also holding a degree in
pedagogical science, Mrs. Ivanova had been, since 1994, a member of
“Word of Life”, a religious group which, as it was unregistered, operated
clandestinely. In that same year, Mrs. Ivanova was hired by the “River
Shipbuilding and Navigation School” at Ruse as a “mechanic” for its
swimming pool. In 1995 she was promoted to manager of the pool
under a contract of indefinite duration which eventually would also
carry teaching responsibilities.

 ECtHR, Ivanova v. Bulgaria, Judgment of 12 April 2007, Appl. No. 52435/99.

24
352 lucius caflisch

When, towards the end of that year, the principal of the School was
dismissed, Mrs. Ivanova too was made to leave on account of her mem­
bership of “Word of Life” and was given the option of resigning or
being dismissed. She was eventually dismissed because of her refusal to
leave “Word of Life”; the reason given for her dismissal was, however,
that she lacked the necessary qualifications for being “swimming pool
manager”. Proceedings before the Bulgarian courts having afforded no
redress, Mrs. Ivanova turned to the ECtHR alleging a breach of Article
9 and of the latter read in conjunction with Article 14 (prohibition of
discrimination). The Court did find a violation of Article 9, pointing
out that the European Commission on Human Rights had declared
repeatedly “that pressuring an individual to change his religious beliefs
or preventing him from manifesting them would be an interference at
variance with the said Article.”25 In this context, the Court also men­
tioned the case of Vogt v. Germany,26 where the applicant’s dismissal
had been based on her political affiliation. Having found a violation of
Article 9 in Ivanova, the ECtHR thought it unnecessary to examine the
grievance based on a combined reading of Articles 9 and 14.27
The Court’s conclusion was confirmed in two other instances, one
involving a Jehovah’s witness who had refused to serve in the Greek
army and subsequently was prevented by the Greek Institute of
Chartered Accountants from obtaining an appointment (Thlimmenos
v. Greece).28 The other case, Alexandridis v. Greece,29 related to the
swearing-in of an advocate.

F. Article 10 of the Convention

Article 10 (1) of the ECHR guarantees the right to freedom of expres­

sion, including the freedom to hold opinions, and to receive and to
impart information and ideas. According to Article 10 (2), this free­
dom may be restricted by legal prescriptions which are necessary, in a
democratic society, to protect national security, territorial integrity,
health or morals, and the reputation or rights of others; to prevent the

25
 Id., para. 80.
26
 ECtHR, Vogt v. Germany, Judgment of 26 September 1995, Appl. No. 17851/91,
Series A, No. 323, paras. 44 and 65.
27
Ivanova case (note 24), paras. 70–86.
28
 ECtHR, Thlimmenos v. Greece, GC Judgment of 6 April 2000, Appl. No. 34369/97.
29
 ECtHR, Alexandridis v. Greece, Judgment of 21 February 2008, Appl. No.
19516/06.
 labour relations before the strasbourg court353

disclosure of confidential information; or to maintain the authority

and impartiality of the judiciary. In the area of labour relations, the
problems arising in connexion with Article 10 include the antagonism
between the freedom of expression enjoyed by employees (or their
TUs), on the one hand, and, on the other, the courtesy and loyalty due
to their employers. This antagonism may be illustrated by three
examples.
The first case–Fuentes Bobo v. Spain30–was about an employee of the
Spanish Television Company who had made critical and defamatory
comments on the performance of that Company. He was given a first
warning; at a second stage, he was sanctioned by a temporary suspen­
sion; and in the end, he was dismissed from his post. After unsuccess­
fully seeking relief from the Spanish courts, the applicant turned to the
ECtHR claiming a violation of Article 10 of the Convention. In its
Judgment, the Court began by noting that the freedom secured by that
Article extended “not only to information or ideas that are favourably
received, or regarded as inoffensive or as a matter of indifference, but
also to those that shock, offend or disturb”.31 There are, however, limits
to this freedom, namely, those mentioned in paragraph 2 of Article 10.
But that paragraph must be interpreted strictly, although the State
enjoys a certain margin of appreciation: interferences with the freedom
protected by Article 10 (1) must be proportionate to the objective pur­
sued by them.32 In the case at hand, the Court pursues, the applicant’s
declarations could indeed be considered offensive,33 but they had been
made in the context of a heated public debate on the management of
public television in Spain and in the wake of the cancellation of a tele­
vised series run by the applicant; they had followed similar declarations
made by others; and those who were the targets of the applicant’s dec­
laration had not taken him to court. The sanction imposed on the
applicant was, on the other hand, of extreme severity considering his
age and seniority. A less severe measure would have been more appro­
priate. Accordingly, the Court concluded that there was no reasonable
proportionality between the applicant’s offence and the sanction
imposed on him.34 The two dissenting judges agreed that the freedom

30
 ECtHR, Fuentes Bobo v. Spain, Judgment of 29 February 2000, Appl. No. 39283/98.
31
 ECtHR, Otto-Preminger-Institut v. Austria, Judgment of 20 September 1994, Appl.
No. 13470/87, Series A, No. 295-A, para. 49.
32
 Id., para. 43.
33
 Id., para. 47.
34
 Id., paras. 48–50.
354 lucius caflisch

of expression had been interfered with but found that in view of the
circumstances the sanction taken was justified.
In the second case, De Diego Nafria v. Spain,35 the applicant, an
employee of the Spanish National Bank, had, by a publicised letter,
drawn attention to various improprieties in the Bank’s management.
In its judgment, the ECtHR recalled the general principles set out in
Fuentes Bobo.36 Here, contrary to what it had done in the earlier case,
the Court emphasised the gravity of the accusations levelled at the
management of the Bank, the deliberateness with which they had
been made, and the fact that they emanated from a civil servant.37
All these features distinguished the present case from that of Fuentes
Bobo and led the ECtHR to conclude that the interference of the
Spanish authorities with the freedom of expression guaranteed by
Article 10 of the ECHR was not disproportionate. Accordingly, Article
10 of the Convention had not been breached. Here again two judges
refused to follow the majority and found the sanction excessive.
The third case to be discussed, Aguilera Jiménez and Others v. Spain,38
was pending at the time of writing, as it was referred to the Court’s
Grand Chamber on 10 May 2009.39 The applicants were employed by a
company and had begun various proceedings against it; they had also
established a TU to protect the employees’ interests. That Union pub­
lished a monthly bulletin, an issue of which carried a caricature and
texts considered to be rude and offensive and which, moreover, was
distributed among the company’s workers and displayed on the TU’s
notice board on the premises of the company. The employees in ques­
tion were subsequently dismissed on account of their conduct, and that
measure was upheld by the Spanish courts.
Here again the Court’s judgment begins by detailing the “general
principles” governing the subject.40 It then examines the nature of
the interference with the freedom guaranteed by Article 10 and the

35
 ECtHR, De Diego Nafria v. Spain, Judgment of 14 March 2002, Appl. No. 46833/99.
36
Fuentes Bobo case (note 30), para. 34.
37
 On this point, the Court makes reference to Vogt v. Germany (note 26).
38
 ECtHR, Aguilera Jiménez and Others v. Spain, GC Judgment of 8 December 2009,
Appl. Nos. 28389/06, 28955/06, 28957/06, 28959/06, 28961/06 and 28964/06.
39
 Article 43 allows any party to refer a case to the Court’s Grand Chamber within a
period of three months from the judgment of the Chamber. The case must be “excep­
tional”, however, i.e. raise a serious question affecting the interpretation or application
of the Convention or the protocols thereto, or a serious issue of general importance.
Whether this condition is met in a given case will be decided by a panel of five judges
of the Grand Chamber.
40
Aguilera Jiménez case (note 38), paras. 22–24
 labour relations before the strasbourg court355

circumstances in which it took place. This examination reveals the

gravity of the applicants’ behaviour and also the deliberateness of their
action resulting, inter alia, from the fact that it was in writing.
The three cases summarised above show that, in the context of
labour relations, duties of loyalty are incumbent on both sides. There is
a duty not to interfere with the freedom of expression secured by
Article 10 (1) of the ECHR, that duty being restricted, however, by the
conditions listed in Article 10 (2) of the ECHR. These conditions are to
be interpreted restrictively, the underlying idea being that there should
be reasonable proportionality between the use made of the freedom of
expression and the proportion it bears to the bond of loyalty between
employer and employee–a bond which seems particularly relevant
when the individual is employed by the State or an institution close to
it. It is evident–as is shown by the above cases–that the weight to be
attributed to each of the two elements is a delicate matter.

G. Article 11 of the Convention

I. Introduction
Article 11 is the Convention rule most commonly associated with
labour relations. Article 11 (1) prescribes that “[e]veryone has the right
to freedom of peaceful assembly and to freedom of association with
others, including the right to form and to join trade unions for the
protection of his interest”. Under Article 11 (2) restrictions may be
placed on that right if they are prescribed by (domestic) law, have a
lawful objective and are “necessary in a democratic society” to protect
national security or public safety, to prevent disorder or crime, to pro­
tect health or morals, or to safeguard the rights and freedoms of others.
Furthermore, “lawful” restrictions may be placed on the exercise of the
rights guaranteed under Article 11 “by members of the armed forces, of
the police or of the administration of the State”.

II. General Issues

Associated Society [sic] of Locomotive Engineers and Firemen (ASLEF) v.
United Kingdom41 is about Mr. Lee, member of a British right-wing

41
 ECtHR, Associated Society of Locomotive Engineers and Firemen (ASLEF) v. United
Kingdom, Judgment of 27 February 2007, Appl. No. 11002/05.
356 lucius caflisch

party, who had joined ASLEF, a TU with pronounced left-wing lean­

ings, without any compelling reason to do so. As he turned out to be a
political activist, Mr. Lee was later expelled from the Union. This,
according to the Court, was contrary to the British Trade Unions and
Labour Relations (Consolidation) Act 1992 and to ILO Convention
No. 87 on the right to establish and join TUs subject only to Union
rules.42 Regarding Article 11 of the ECHR, the Strasbourg Court found
that if a TU enacted prescriptions for its members, it had, on its side, to
comply with the limitations set in paragraph 2 of Article 11 and to
strike a balance, which the Court found to be lacking in the present
case.43
The case of Wilson, National Union of Journalists and Others v. United
Kingdom44 turned out to be the reverse of what is the usual pattern of
the antagonists playing out labour conflicts: the attempt of an employer
to replace unionised persons’ contracts by individual contracts yielding
higher salaries. This, according to the Strasbourg Court, was made pos­
sible by the absence of State intervention; thus, the State failed to secure
the applicants’ rights under Article 11, i.e. the right of the Union to
protect members’ interests and the right of members to be heard
through their Union, although the way in which this could be achieved
was to be freely determined by the State.45 Turning to the specifics of
the case, the Court points out that when the case was before it, the sys­
tem of collective bargaining by unions was optional in the United
Kingdom and that there was no legal remedy against “de-recognising”
TUs. There remained, however, the right of the unions to be heard
under Article 11, a right which has to be protected by the State but does
not necessarily encompass collective bargaining; strikes would be
another means of protecting the right secured by Article 11. Employees
must also enjoy the right to have unions make representations on their
behalf. The action undertaken by the employers was thus considered
lawful under British law as long as the “de-unionising” employees did
not act with the specific purpose of deterring other employees from
being union members.46 It was not considered lawful under Article 11

42
 ILO Convention No. 87 concerning Freedom of Association and Protection of the
Right to Organise, 9 July 1948, 68 UNTS 17.
43
ASLEF case (note 41), paras. 39, 41–46, 47–53.
44
 ECtHR, Wilson, National Union of Journalists and Others v. United Kingdom,
Judgment of 2 October 2002, Appl. Nos. 30668/96, 30671/96 and 30678/96.
45
 Id., para. 42.
46
 Id., para. 47.
 labour relations before the strasbourg court357

by the Court, however, nor was it so regarded by the ILO’s Committee

on Freedom of Association.
A further case to be placed under the present sub-heading is
Federation of Offshore Workers’ Trade Unions and Others v. Norway.
The applicants had decided to go on strike over wage issues but were
prevented from pursuing their action, first by Government Ordinance,
then by a decision of the Supreme Court of Norway. The Ordinance
prohibited the continuation of the strike and imposed arbitration.
The ECtHR found that while Article 11 of the 1950 Convention did
not expressly consecrate the right to strike or that of collective bargain­
ing, such rights might exist under it. They were, however, subject to the
limitations detailed in paragraph 2 of Article 11: the measures taken
must be prescribed by law–which was the case–and be “necessary in a
democratic society”, i.e. respond and be proportionate to a “pressing
social need”. In the present situation, such a need was indeed found to
exist, especially on account of the likelihood of a protracted strike, the
heavy losses such a strike was expected to generate and the ensuing
interruption of exports to EU countries which was likely to destroy
Norway’s reputation as a reliable supplier. In the event, the imposition
of arbitration was certainly justifiable.47
A last case in point is that of Gustafsson v. Sweden.48 The applicant
was a hotel and restaurant owner who did not believe in the virtues of
collective bargaining and refused to enter into collective labour agree­
ments with one of the relevant TUs, or even to subscribe to “substitute
agreements” under which he would have undertaken to hire union
members only and to apply employment conditions formulated by the
union. His refusal led the unions to organise “sympathy actions”
(blockade against the applicant, boycott), and the Swedish Government
did nothing to stop them or to offer adequate redress.49 This, according
to the Strasbourg Court, amounted to the violation of a positive duty
under Article 11 of the ECHR. But the applicant had, according to the
Court, an opportunity to conclude a substitute agreement which would
have resulted in establishing a collective bargaining mechanism with­
out infringing the applicant’s rights under Article 11. The applicant,
however, chose not to do so. He also failed to show that his employees

47
Federation of Offshore Workers’ Trade Unions case (note 4), p. 11.
48
 ECtHR, Gustafsson v. Sweden, Judgment of 25 April 1996, Appl. No. 15573/89.
49
 Id., paras. 45–46.
358 lucius caflisch

were better off without an agreement and without collective bargain­

ing. There was no reason to hold that the system applied by the TUs did
not protect legitimate interests, consistent with Article 11, by advocat­
ing the recourse to means such as collective bargaining recognised by
ILO Conventions 87 and 98.50 Thus, the Court found that the respond­
ent State did not, owing to the margin of appreciation conceded to it,
fail to protect the applicant’s freedom of association guaranteed by
Article 11.51
The cases reported above show that while TUs–as well as employ­
ers–enjoy substantial rights under Article 11 of the ECHR, there are
limits to them when individuals’ basic rights or the national welfare are
at stake.

III. Closed-Shop Agreements

A closed-shop agreement may be defined as a collectively negotiated
contract between an employer and a TU which exclusively benefits
members of the latter. After the conclusion of such a contract, indi­
viduals can be hired only if they are members of the Union; and, if they
are under contract already, they will have to leave unless they join the
Union. Closed-shop agreements, which appear to be an Anglo-
Scandinavian specialty, have played a relatively important role in the
Court’s case law, witness the “British Rail” judgment (Young, James and
Webster v. United Kingdom).52
That case concerned three employees of British Rail which, in 1975,
had concluded such an agreement with three TUs. The three individu­
als, who were not members of those Unions and did not wish to join
them, were dismissed. After pointing out that the United Kingdom was
responsible for the weaknesses in its legislation, the ECtHR, on the
basis of the criteria established by Article 11(2), examined whether
there had been an interference with the negative right flowing from
Article 11, i.e. the right not to join a union.53 While asserting that
Article 11 was silent on the matter, this circumstance did not, accord­
ing to the Court, justify each and every act of compulsion. In the event,

50
 ILO Convention No. 98 concerning the Application of the Principles of the Right
to Organise and to Bargain Collectively, 1 July 1949, 96 UNTS 257.
51
Gustafsson case (note 48), paras. 52–55.
52
 ECtHR, Young, James and Webster v. United Kingdom, Judgment of 13 August
1981, Appl. Nos. 7601/76 and 7806/77, Series A, No. 44.
53
 Id., paras. 48–49.
 labour relations before the strasbourg court359

there had indeed been an interference with the rights secured by Article
11, considering the surrounding circumstances, i.e. the long profes­
sional careers of the three victims and the fact that the refusal of two of
them to join the Unions concerned was based on the latter’s political
affiliations. This led the Court to examine whether the interference
amounted to a breach of the Convention under the criteria of Article
11 (2). It found that there had been no “necessity in a democratic soci­
ety” to protect members’ rights by dismissing persons who did not
belong to one of the three Unions.
A recent case deserving mention is that of Sørensen and Rasmussen
v. Denmark.54 Mr. Sørensen, a warehouse worker, was a member of SID,
a trade union from which he resigned in 1984. In 1989 he began to
work for a company which, in 1990, concluded a collective agreement
according to which all the company’s future employees had to be mem­
bers of SID, whereupon Sørensen re-joined it. In 1966 the Union
excluded him for frequent arrears in the payment of his dues, as a con­
sequence of which he was also dismissed from his job. Mr. Rasmussen,
a gardener, joined SID in the 1980s but resigned after a few years
because he disagreed with the Union’s political orientation, and became
a member of the Christian TU. After having been unemployed for
some time, he secured employment at a nursery on the understanding
that he would re-join SID. This he did and so obtained the job, but he
remained unable to accept the Union’s political views.
According to the Danish Government, Article 11 protects the right
not to become a member of a TU as a result of closed-shop agreements,
but only when the individual concerned is unaware of the requirement
of union membership at the time of engagement. In any event, the
Government continues, the interference under Article 11 pursues a
legitimate objective, namely, the “protection of the rights and freedoms
of others” necessary in a democratic society. Always according to the
Government, only about ten per cent of the Danish labour market is
subject to closed-shop agreements, and no one could argue that their
existence prevents the exercise of certain professions.
For the Court’s Grand Chamber, the guarantees given in Article 11
of the Convention include that of personal autonomy even where the
requirement of TU membership was known to the ­individual before he

54
 ECtHR, Sørensen and Rasmussen v. Denmark, GC Judgment of 11 January 2006,
Appl. Nos. 52562/99 and 52620/99.
360 lucius caflisch

accepted employment. The States are under a positive duty to protect

the enjoyment of Article 11 rights, which they will discharge by balanc­
ing the interests of labour against those of management; in doing this,
States enjoy a wide margin of appreciation except, where close-shop
agreements run counter to the freedom of choice inherent in Article
11. There are, in addition, evolving perceptions regarding the relevance
of such agreements.
The present situation is that of a pre-entry closed-shop agreement, of
which applicants were aware. But this makes no difference since,
according to the Grand Chamber, the applicants were keen to be hired;
to this end, they were ready to tolerate the element of compulsion
inherent in their engagement–an attitude that can scarcely be held
against them. The fact that the applicants could have found employ­
ment elsewhere, also, cannot be considered decisive. The Grand
Chamber finds that the applicants may be regarded as having been
individually and substantially affected by the application of the closed-
shop agreement to them: both “were compelled to join [the TU] and
[…] this compulsion struck at the very substance of the freedom of
association guaranteed by Article 11”55 and the defendant Government
failed to prevent it.
So much for closed-shop agreements. These debatable instruments
carry the advantage of promoting stability, a stability which, however,
is likely to work to the detriment not only of employers but also of the
personal, ideological and political freedom of workers, be they law pro­
fessors, soldiers, railway employees or gardeners.

IV. State Agents

The State is not, chiefly, an economic actor and should not be assimi­
lated to a greedy employer obsessed by the idea of profit. Those work­
ing for the State as a non-profit-sovereign entity–army, police,
administration: see Article 11 (2)–are dealing not with an ordinary
employer but with a community of taxpayers requiring law, order and
basic public services. It seems evident, therefore, that the usual mecha­
nism of Article 11 cannot or cannot fully apply here. As space is lim­
ited, only three cases will be highlighted.

 Id., para. 64.

55
 labour relations before the strasbourg court361

National Union of Belgian Police v. Belgium56 is the first case where

State agents were opposed to the State employing them. The applicant
was a union open to members of the municipal and rural police forces,
but not to agents belonging to the gendarmerie and the police judi-
ciaire. Membership of the Union declined after 1974. While it recog­
nised the freedom of association and had subscribed to ILO Conventions
Nos. 87 and 98, Belgium also recognised the rights to join or not to join
unions, to elect union representatives and freely to organise the admin­
istration of unions. To avoid having to deal with too many associations,
the number of entities with which the Belgian State, i.e. its Minister of
the Interior, had to negotiate was, however, reduced by using a crite­
rion of representativeness (on which there are pages and pages in the
Judgment). In the event, the National Union was denied sufficient rep­
resentativeness as it was only open to members of the municipal and
rural police. According to the Court, this did not amount to a violation
of Article 11. However, the fact of not being consulted by the Minister
did not deprive the National Union of the faculty to protect the inter­
ests of its members.
The true applicant in Tüm Haber Sen and Çinar v. Turkey57 was a
union of public employees which had been active from 1992 to 1995
and, as it had engaged in collective bargaining and called strikes, was
dissolved by court order. Before the Strasbourg Court, the Government
contended that public employees were not allowed to form TUs and
that, although Turkey had ratified the relevant ILO Conventions No. 87
and 151,58 the unions could not rely on them as there had not been, so
far, any implementing legislation.59
Citing the case of the Swedish Engine Drivers’ Union v. Sweden, the
Court found Article 11 of the CEDH to apply to both the private and
the public sectors.60 This led it to conclude that there had, in Tüm Haber
Sen, been an interference with the freedom guaranteed by Article 11,

56
 ECtHR, National Union of Belgian Police v. Belgium, Judgment of 27 October
1975, Appl. No. 4464/70, Series A, No. 19.
57
 ECtHR, Tüm Haber Sen and Çinar v. Turkey, Judgment of 21 February 2006, Appl.
No. 28602/95.
58
 ILO Convention No. 151 concerning Protection of the Right to Organise and
Procedures for Determining Conditions of Employment in the Public Service, 27 June
1978, 1218 UNTS 87.
59
Tüm Haber Sen and Çinar case (note 57), para. 18.
60
 ECtHR, Swedish Engine Drivers’ Union v. Sweden, Judgment of 6 February 1976,
Appl. No. 5614/72, Series A, No. 20, paras. 28, 37, 39–40.
362 lucius caflisch

the only justification being that the Union’s members were civil serv­
ants.61 While it was true that the interference had been “prescribed by
law” and had pursued a legitimate objective–that of preventing a dis­
crepancy between practice and national law–was it really “necessary in
a democratic society”?62 The Court thought that it was not, for none of
the Union’s activities “represented a threat to Turkish society or the
Turkish State”.63 Accordingly, the Court found a breach of Article 11.
There is, finally, the case of Demir and Baykara (Tüm Bel Sen) v.
Turkey, which concerned a finding by the Turkish Court of Cassation
that a trade union formed by civil servants had not acquired legal exist­
ence at the time of its foundation and that, accordingly, a collective
agreement negotiated between it and the Gaziantep Municipality was
invalid. The ECtHR ruled that that finding amounted to a violation of
Article 11 of the Convention because the Court of Cassation had
refused to recognise the right of municipal civil servants to form a
TU.64 Next the Strasbourg Court examined whether the right to collec­
tive bargaining of TUs formed by civil servants could now be regarded
as inherent in the right to form such unions, contrary to earlier prac­
tice.65 Its own case law showed that the right of association included
that of forming and joining a trade union,66 the right to prohibit closed-
shop agreements,67 and the right for a TU “to seek to persuade the
employer to hear what it has to say on behalf of its members”.68 The
ECHR was a
“living instrument which must be interpreted in the light of present-day
conditions, and in accordance with developments in international law, so
as to reflect the increasingly high standard being required” and to allow
for “greater firmness in assessing breaches of the fundamental values of
democratic societies”.69
To identify that standard as it applies under Article 11, the Court, bas­
ing itself on Article 31 (3) of the Vienna Convention on the Law of

61
Tüm Haber Sen and Çinar case (note 57), paras. 30–32.
62
 Id., paras. 33–34.
63
 Id., paras. 35–40.
64
Demir and Baykara (Tüm Bel Sen) case (note 5), paras. 117–127.
65
National Union of Belgian Police case (note 56), para. 39; Swedish Engine Drivers’
Union case (note 60), para. 39; Wilson, National Union of Journalists case (note 44),
para. 44.
66
Tüm Haber Sen and Çinar case (note 56).
67
 ECtHR, Sørensen and Rasmussen case (note 54), para. 58.
68
Wilson case (note 44), para. 44
69
 Id., para. 146.
 labour relations before the strasbourg court363

Treaties of 23 May 1969,70 consulted relevant international instru­

ments, among which the ILO Conventions No. 98 and No. 151, both
ratified by Turkey. According to the ILO’s Committee of Experts,
Article 6 of Convention No. 98 excluded from the latter’s guarantee
only “officials whose activities were specific to the administration of the
State”, which the members of Tüm Bel Sen were not; and the rights
guaranteed included collective bargaining.71 Convention No. 151
allowed States to decide whether members of the armed forces and the
police should be able to participate in the determination of their work­
ing conditions; but such participation was secured everywhere else in
the public service.72 On the basis of these elements, and after having
examined other texts, the Court’s Grand Chamber concluded that the
existing case-law should be re-visited and that the rights of collective
bargaining and of concluding collective agreements should henceforth,
on “account of the perceptible evolution in such matters, in both inter­
national and domestic legal systems”, be considered part and parcel of
the right guaranteed by Article 11.73 Thus the Court found that there
had been an interference with that Article which was unnecessary in a
democratic society, and this led it to conclude that Article 11 had been
breached.74
Of particular interest in the context of the above Judgment are the
Grand Chamber’s considerations on “the practice of interpreting
Convention provisions in the light of other international texts and
instruments”.75 Citing Articles 31 and 32 of the 1969 Vienna Convention
on the Law of Treaties, as well as a string of precedents, the Court
recalled that it was required “to ascertain the ordinary meaning to be
given to the words [of Article 11] in their context and in the light of the
object and purpose of the provision” to be interpreted (Article 31 (1)),
and that
“[r]ecourse may also be had to supplementary means of interpretation,
either to confirm a meaning determined in accordance with the above
steps, or to establish the meaning where it would otherwise be ambigu­
ous, obscure, or manifestly absurd or unreasonable”.76

70
1155 UNTS 331.
71
Demir and Baykara (Tüm Bel Sen) case (note 5), para. 147.
72
 Id., para. 148.
73
 Id., paras. 153–154.
74
 Id., paras. 162–170.
75
 Id., paras. 65–68.
76
 Id., para. 65.
364 lucius caflisch

The object of interpretation was also that of making the provisions of

the ECHR and of the Additional Protocols practical and effective, and
of promoting internal consistency between the various provisions.77
Moreover, the context in which such provisions must be considered
was not limited to the Convention, but included “any relevant rules and
principles of international law applicable in relations between the
Contracting Parties” (Article 31 (3) of the Vienna Convention).78
Finally, the interpretation of the ECHR, which was a “living instru­
ment”, must be undertaken “in the light of present-day conditions” and
take “account of evolving norms of national and international law”.79
The Court then reviewed the types of texts to consider when ascer­
taining the meaning of articles of the Convention, especially non-bind­
ing instruments elaborated by the Council of Europe and, before
turning to the specifics of the present case, found that to ascertain the
object and purpose of the relevant Convention provision the interna­
tional law background to the question before it had to be examined, in
particular international or domestic law standards common to
European States.80 A review of some relevant judgments and other texts
led the Court to the conclusion that, in order to ascertain the meaning
of terms and notions used in the Convention, it could and had to take
into account elements of international law other than the ECHR itself,
the meaning given to such elements by competent organs and the prac­
tice of European States reflecting common values which, if agreed on,
could be used for the interpretation of Convention provisions.81 This
did not mean, however, that the respondent State had to be a Party to
all the relevant international instruments; it was sufficient that these
instruments attest to an evolution of the norms and principles applied
in international law or in the domestic sphere of a majority of member
States of the Council of Europe, and that they show that, in the area
considered, “there is common ground in modern societies”.

H. Conclusion

The ECHR is not primarily conceived as a code for the protection

of workers–this is the role of the European Social Charter–but as a

77
 Id., para. 66.
78
 Id., para. 67.
79
 Id., para. 68.
80
 Id., paras. 69–84.
81
 Id., paras. 85–86.
 labour relations before the strasbourg court365

bulwark for the protection of the fundamental rights of persons gener­

ally. As this contribution has attempted to show, no clear separation
exists between the protection of individuals’ rights generally and their
rights at the workplace, so that quite a number of Convention provi­
sions–Article 11, but also Articles 4, 6, 8, 9 and 10 of the 1950
Convention–cover labour relations.
For that reason the Strasbourg Court has been reasonably active in
the area of labour issues even though that area has not become one of
its favourite hunting grounds. The present overview aims at conveying
some idea, and some examples, of the Court’s action. In no way does it
aspire to completeness, nor was it intended to suggest or comment par­
allelisms with other systems of protection.
The Protection of Property in International Law:
The Missing Pieces

Thomas Cottier, Katja Gehne & Maria Schultheiss

A. Introduction

International law may be characterized as a process of claims and

responses. The forming of customary law as well as of treaties, by and
large is subject to this process. This explains why principles and rules of
international law have never reached the maturity of the comprehen-
sive and well-designed building of a legal order comparable to domes-
tic or constitutional law. Efforts to codify international law have
remained scattered and most of its evolution has been and continues to
be piecemeal. Even within the overall framework of the United Nations
Charter, emerging after World War II, improvements have reflected,
and continue to reflect, geopolitical changes and advances in technol-
ogy which are at the heart of globalization. The law is called upon to
accommodate these challenges in the process of claims and responses.
In so doing, academic research and writing are an important and criti-
cal companion. They draw attention to inequities, shortcomings and
lacunae. They seek to accompany the overall process of claims and
responses, to bring about fair and just results by commenting on evolu-
tions and making suggestions. This is very much what characterizes the
work and life of Professor Wolfrum to whom these lines are dedicated.
For many years, he has been at the forefront of the effort to improve
and adjust international law to meet new challenges. It may therefore
be appropriate to offer some reflections on the protection of private
property rights in contemporary international law, and to draw atten-
tion to the missing pieces, the effects of which are increasingly felt, and
which need to be addressed in the process of claims and responses.
The protection of private property lies at the heart of the process of
constitutionalization which occurred in the 19th century. The struggles
between the crown and the entrepreneurial classes were brought to this
point by the adage of no taxation without representation. The constitu-
tional protection of property rights therefore was in the very van of
protecting fundamental rights, guaranteed by written and unwritten
368 thomas cottier, katja gehne & maria schultheiss

constitutions demarcating the role of the crown or the executive

branch, and that of parliaments and legislation. Since property mainly
concerns rei sitae, unlike trade in goods and intellectual property, it
was not a prime concern in international relations and law. Sovereignty
implied full legal control of property rights in a domestic context.
Legitimate linkages to international law depended upon the involve-
ment of foreign-owned property, but did not extend to property pro-
tection as a basic trait in common and civil law. Diplomatic protection
could be called upon if property owned by a national in a foreign coun-
try was affected. In the 19th century, the generation of Friendship,
Commerce and Navigation Treaties responded to claims of protecting
foreign direct investment, and remarkably liberal rules on national
treatment and against takings emerged in treaty law.1 In due course,
customary law emerged, developing basic principles of protecting for-
eign direct investment against expropriation without due cause and
compensation.2 These rules gained particular importance in the pro-
cess of decolonization, self-determination of nations, and under the
influence of socialist policies seeking to nationalize key industries
around the world. During that period, international law witnessed an
array of arbitration awards corroborating vague principles in custom-
ary international law. The 1990s triggered the advent of a growing
global network of bilateral investment treaties (BITs), which will be
discussed shortly, and with this an increasing number of arbitration
awards, through ICSID, the International Centre of Investment Dispute
Settlement within the World Bank, and other international investment
arbitration mechanisms. These treaties are marked by the one-sided
protection of investors’ interests and suggest conditions of asymmetric
power relations with far-reaching limitations imposed on governmen-
tal policies, for example in the field of environmental or health protec-
tion. It is only today, with investments flowing into western countries
and international investment agreements “biting back” that this is
increasingly being admitted. The one-sidedness is partly due to the iso-
lation of international investment law as a legal field and no recogni-
tion of a human rights dimension in international investment law.
There are pieces missing from the puzzle of claims and responses, and

1
 We are pleased to refer to the Encyclopedia of Public International Law, which is
one of Professor Wolfrum’s main projects. See A. Paulus, Treaties of Friendship,
Commerce and Navigation, EPIL, available at http://www.mepil.com.
2
 R. Lillich (ed.), International Law of State Responsibility for Injuries to Aliens
(1983).
 the protection of property in international law369

we argue in this paper that deficiencies relate to an overall imbalance in

international law and a lack in the human rights dimension of real
property protection. We first provide a brief account of investment
protection and review the protection of property in human rights law,
comparing this to levels of protection achieved in intellectual property
and identifying existing imbalances which should be remedied in the
process of claim and response.

B. The Tradition of Investment Law

I. The Advent of Protection

International property protection plays a key role in international
investment law. Since the early 1900s a minimum standard of treat-
ment has been recognized among capital-exporting countries aimed at
protecting foreigners carrying out business abroad. One of its core ele-
ments has been compensation for expropriation.3 Globalization opened
up markets and opportunities calling for international law where
national law no longer sufficed to safeguard economic relations.
International development agencies urged increasing foreign direct
investment (FDI) to trigger development in developing countries, and
promoted the conclusion of investment treaties to attract FDI. Since
the 1990s, when worldwide only a few international investment agree-
ments (IIAs) were in place and attempts to set up a multilateral invest-
ment protection regime had failed,4 international investment law grew
enormously. Today, more than 2600 bilateral investment treaties (BITs)
are in place, and a growing number of regional or plurilateral free trade
agreements (FTAs) contain investment chapters. This global legal
investment regulation network sets a relatively homogeneous and
widespread modern standard of international investment law, with
each individual investment treaty containing its own specificities. The
probability that a given FDI project will fall within the scope of one or

3
 A. Newcombe / L. Paradell, Law and Practice of Investment Treaties: Standards of
Treatment, at 11 (2009).
4
 Attempts to multilateralize international investment law, e.g. the Havana Charter,
the Abs-Shawcross Convention or the OECD-backed Multilateral Agreement on
Investment, have failed so far. Failure was mainly due to the opposition of developing
countries, condemning the partiality in favour of capital-exporting states. The only
successful global convention is the ICSID Convention, which is however merely proce-
dural. For more on the failure of multilateralism see S. Schill, The Multilateralization of
International Investment Law, at 31 et seq. and 49 et seq. (2009).
370 thomas cottier, katja gehne & maria schultheiss

another international investment regime is thus relatively high.

Moreover, FDIs are often accompanied by investor-state contracts
establishing similar standards of investment protection which are
equally subject to arbitration.

II. The Focus and Scope of Protection

One of the key features of today’s international investment law is its
one-sided purpose of investment protection. Most preambles to IIAs
express the general desire of the parties to intensify and to develop
their economic relations, focusing particularly on the need to create an
investment-friendly environment. The emphasis lies on increasing
investment, ignoring how investment projects should occur.5 It is only
recently that some IIAs have integrated aspects of environmental and
social standards, the latter mainly with regard to labour rights.6 The
focus of IIAs is on good governance standards of treatment for
investors (e.g. national treatment, fair and equitable treatment, com-
pensation for expropriation). There is no practice imposing on inves-
tors the obligation to respect human rights and environmental
standards or the livelihood of local people. International investment
law follows an isolated logic, commensurate with overall fragmenta-
tion of international law, leaving these issues to other domains of inter-
national law, such as human rights and environmental law. At the same
time, it makes this matter the responsibility of the host state which is
deemed to be primarily in charge of protecting the interests of its popu-
lation within the framework of international obligations. This approach

5
 R. Dolzer / M. Stevens, Bilateral Investment Treaties (1995).
6
 See, for example, US Model Treaty, available at http://ustraderep.gov/assets/
Trade_Sectors/Investment/Model_BIT/asset_upload_file847_6897.pdf; Canada
Model Treaty, available at http://www.ccil-ccdi.ca/index.php?option=com_content
&task=view&id=89&Itemid=86. See also the EU-CARIFORUM agreement, available
at http://www.esf.be/new/?page_id=4584. Moreover, investor-state contracts often
contain environmental or social standards, or refer to domestic law in this sense, see
C. Smaller / H. Mann, A Thirst for Distant Lands: Foreign Investment in Agricultural
Land and Water, at 9 (2009), available at http://www.iisd.org/pdf/2009/thirst_for
_distant_lands.pdf; for model treaties in terms of sustainable development see
N. Fichtner, Investitionspolitik für zukunftsfähige Entwicklung. Der Vorschlag eines
‘Model International Agreement on Investment for Sustainable Development’ des IISD
(2006), available at http://www2.weed-online.org/uploads/investitionspolitik.pdf.
However, despite a rising tendency to include sustainable development issues in pre-
ambles to IIAs, Newcombe observed that such norms are rarely to be found in the
substantive provisions, see A. Newcombe, Sustainable Development and Investment
Treaty Law, 8 Journal of World Investment and Trade 357 (2007).
 the protection of property in international law371

is due to the history of investment law: (i) a standard of treatment

which was developed to protect foreigners from uncompensated
expropriation by host states 7 and (ii) the promotion of the host state’s
permanent sovereignty over natural resources and of self-­determination
in the process of decolonization.8 The latter entailed a threat to foreign
investors’ property rights and their use, materializing in the extensive
occurrence of expropriations in the 1960s and 1970s.9 Moreover, a
communist or socialist approach to property carries risks for foreign
investors; this was mainly an issue during the Cold War, but still exists
today.10 The historical background explains why the emphasis on tradi-
tional investment law has been that “it is the conduct of host states,
rather than that of investors that needs to be kept in check”.11
The modern standard of investment protection which is anchored in
most IIAs protects investment-related property rights from arbitrary
and uncompensated expropriation. This reserves the genuine right of
the host state to expropriate property and imposes the obligation
of “prompt, adequate and effective” compensation of the investor.12
Expropriation comprises direct deprivation of concessions and
titles and indirect “takings” which impact on benefits as if there was
expropriation.13 For example, a measure which prevents the investor
from exercising “effective control over the use or disposition of a sub-
stantial portion of its property”–in a case where a state reformed the
regulatory framework for the bauxite sector–constituted an indirect

7
 On the minimum standard of state responsibility in customary law see
R. Lillich, The Current Status of the Law of State Responsibility for Injuries to Aliens,
in: R. Lillich (ed.), International Law of State Responsibility for Injuries to Aliens, at
1 (1983); M. Shaw, International Law, at 823–843 (6th ed., 2008); I. Brownlie, Principles
of Public International Law, at 497–527 (6th ed., 2003); J.-P. Müller / L. Wildhaber,
Praxis des Völkerrechts, at 525–540 (2001).
8
 GA Resolution 1803 (XVII), 14 December 1962, Permanent Sovereignty over
Natural Resources; GA Resolution 3201, 1 May 1974, Declaration on the Establishment
of a New International Economic Order.
9
 A. Reinisch, Expropriation, in: P. Muchlinski / F. Ortino / C. Schreuer (eds.), The
Oxford Handbook of International Investment Law, at 407, 408 (2008).
10
 On 2 May 2007, Bolivia notified the World Bank about its withdrawal from the
ICSID Convention. The withdrawal took effect six months later on 3 November 2007.
Bolivia is the first state formally to denounce the Convention. The withdrawal coin-
cides with President Evo Morales’ attempts to nationalize key sectors such as the oil
and gas industry.
11
 G. Laborde, The Case of Host State Claims in Investment Arbitration, 1 Journal of
International Dispute Settlement 97, at 98 (2010).
12
 See R. Dolzer / C. Schreuer, Principles of International Investment Law, at 91
(2008).
13
 See A. Newcombe / L. Paradell (note 3), at 323.
372 thomas cottier, katja gehne & maria schultheiss

taking.14 There is no legal certainty in arbitrational jurisprudence

regarding the concept of indirect expropriation and what distinguishes
it from non-compensatable regulation. International treaty practice
and jurisprudence suggest criteria which leave space for broad inter-
pretation, such as the extent to which the measure interferes with the
property right, the purpose and context of the measure, and “legitimate
expectations” of investors.15 In this regard, arbitration courts refer to
the jurisprudence of the European Court of Human Rights, including
a “balancing requirement” as “useful guidance” for interpreting the
expropriation clauses of BITs,16 although the Court’s ruling is to be seen
against the background of the specific provisions of the European
Convention on Human Rights. This broad understanding of property
and expropriation puts the host state’s right to regulate under signifi-
cant pressure, not only in the economic sphere, but also with regard to
tax, environmental or labour law.17 For example, in terms of agricul-
tural investments, measures concerning land planning, land reform,
food security, environmental rules or workers’ rights could be at stake.
International investment law tends to provide for full market-value
compensation without any flexibility with regard to the public interest
of the regulatory purpose.18 This may cause so-called “regulatory chill”:
states refraining from regulating in the public interest to avoid arbitra-
tion which carries the risk of triggering high amounts of compensation
and arbitration costs.19

14
 See R. Dolzer / C. Schreuer (note 12), at 97.
15
 OECD, ‘Indirect Expropriation’ and the ‘Right to Regulate’ in International
Investment Law, Working Papers on International Investment, at 10 (2004), available at
http://www.ilsa.org/jessup/jessup07/basicmats/oecd_report.pdf; A. Reinisch (note 9), at
448.
16
 ICSID, Técnicas Medioambientales Tecmed, S.A. v. United Mexican States, ICSID
Case No. ARB(AF)/00/2), Award of 29 May 2003, paras. 116–122; Azurix Corp. v.
Argentina, ICSID Case No. ARB/01/12, Award of 14 July 2006, para. 311.
17
 R. Dolzer, The Impact of International Investment Treaties on Domestic
Administrative Law, 37 International Law and Politics 953, at 960 (2005). L. Cotula,
Investment Treaties, IIED Sustainable Markets Investment Briefings, No. 2, at 2 (2007),
available at http://www.iied.org/pubs/pdfs/17013IIED.pdf.
18
 See for an argument for more flexibility in this regard L. Markert, Die Kernfrage
zukünftiger Abkommen: Der Ausgleich zwischen Investoren- und staatlichen
Regierungsinteressen, in: M. Bungenberg / S. Hindelang / J. Griebel (eds.), Inter­
nationaler Investitionsschutz und Europarecht (2010).
19
 L. Peterson, Human Rights and Bilateral Investment Treaties: Mapping the role of
human rights law within investor-state arbitration, at 36 et seq. (2009), available at
http://www.dd-rd.ca/site/_PDF/publications/globalization/HIRA-volume3-ENG.pdf;
L. Markert (note 19).
 the protection of property in international law373

III. The Asymmetries of Protection

International investment treaty arbitration has over recent years
become a strong mechanism for the review of public regulatory
­authority.20 Arbitration tribunals review state measures on the grounds
of broad investment protection standards, in domains with a strong
impact on the environment or human rights and socio-cultural values
of people. This has given rise to concern in terms of the extent to which
arbitration courts are a legitimate judicial mechanism for the review of
national regulation in the public interest. Investment protection is
inextricably intertwined with other factors of societal interest which
are equally important to long-term national and international eco-
nomic stability and welfare, such as good governance, fair competition,
social responsibility and justice, local development, health, education,
and environmental protection. Investment treaty arbitration, however,
is rooted in commercial arbitration. This favours an isolated private law
understanding of investment law adjudication and supports a tendency
towards understanding investment law as a self-contained regime
focusing on the commercial relationship between the investor and the
state. Moreover, arbitration practice causes anxiety about the impar-
tiality of arbitrators, and suggests that there are missing pieces regard-
ing standards of the rule of law in a context where public law and
peoples’ interests are at stake,21 such as public disclosure, transparency,
judicial independence, and the right of appeal.22
All of this is part of the asymmetry in international law between the
protection of business interests of companies and of the interests of
those affected by investment.23 Investment protection standards, peo-
ples’ rights and environmental norms are closely interrelated. They
have high potential for negative and positive externalities. Investment

20
 G. Van Harten / M. Lloughlin, Investment Treaty Arbitration as a Species of
Global Administrative Law, 17 European Journal of International Law 123 (2006).
21
Van Harten stresses the public law character of international investment treaty
arbitration, see G. Van Harten, Investment Treaty Arbitration, Procedural Fairness,
and the Rule of Law, in: S. Schill (ed.), International Investment Law and Comparative
Public Law (2010).
22
 See G. Van Harten (note 22); L. Malintoppi, Independence, Impartiality and Duty
of Disclosure of Arbitrators, in: P. Muchlinski / F. Ortino / C. Schreuer (eds.), The
Oxford Handbook of International Investment Law, at 789–829 (2008); A. Qureshi,
An Appel­late System in International Investment Arbitration?, in: P. Muchlinski /
F. Ortino / C. Schreuer (eds.), The Oxford Handbook of International Investment Law,
at 1154–1170 (2008).
23
 See A. Newcombe (note 6), at 365.
374 thomas cottier, katja gehne & maria schultheiss

may cause harm to the environment and to people’s health or liveli-

hoods as well as leading to mutual gains such as in employment, rising
standards of education, environmental protection, or infrastructure. A
“clinical isolation” of investment protection standards is hardly con-
vincing when social and environmental regulatory goals potentially
compromise the rights of investors, or vice versa.24 The missing link
between different and competing policies and legal claims is at the
heart of what has been referred to as the “legitimacy crisis” of interna-
tional investment law.25 The imbalances could also fuel tensions
between international and domestic law and may further undermine
the primacy of international law and the principle of pacta sunt serv­
anda. A case in point is the following.
In Saipem v Bangladesh a dispute arose because of the strong opposi-
tion of the local population to the construction of a pipeline.26 Saipem
claimed compensation before an ICC27 arbitral tribunal while a
Bangladeshi public institution filed a claim with the Supreme Court of
Bangladesh which issued a restraining order to stay the arbitration pro-
ceedings. The ICC tribunal granted damages to Saipem. A High Court
division of the Bangladeshi Supreme Court admitted a claim for annul-
ment, declaring the award null and void for violation of the restraining
order. Saipem sought a remedy before an ICSID tribunal invoking the
relevant bilateral investment treaty. The ICSID tribunal held that “local
judicial intervention in an arbitral process can amount to a violation of
international law when it constitutes a manifest abuse of supervisory
powers” and that the “right to arbitrate under a contract can form the

24
 See for this argument in terms of WTO law WTO Appellate Body Report, United
States–Standards for Reformulated and Conventional Gasoline, WT/DS2/AB/R,
adopted 26 April 1996; G. Marceau, A Call for Coherence, 33 Journal of World Trade
87 (1999).
25
 S. Franck, The Legitimacy Crisis in International Investment Treaty Arbitration
Privatizing Public International Law Through Inconsistent Decisions, 73 Fordham
Law Review 1521 (2005); L. Markert (note 19); Dolzer argues that the restrictive impact
on the host state’s domestic law of the regime of IIAs is normally perceived as a neces-
sary corollary of an investment-friendly environment rather than a threat to nation
states’ sovereignty, see R. Dolzer (note 18). However, in some cases it is doubtful
whether such loss of sovereignty is truly intended by the capital-importing country.
Often, its bargaining power is weakened by a lack of resources to examine the exact
meaning of a provision proposed by the capital-exporting party, see M. Sornarajah,
The International Law on Foreign Investment, at 207 (2004).
26
 ICSID, Saipem v. Bangladesh ICSID Case ARBl05107, 30 June 2009 (not pub-
lished yet); see F. Francioni, Access to Justice. Denial of Justice and International
Investment Law, 20 (3) European Journal of International Law 729 (2009).
27
 International Chamber of Commerce.
 the protection of property in international law375

object of expropriation”.28 The ruling shows both the advanced level of

judicial protection of investors achieved and a lack of concern for the
protection of those affected by the investments made.
Indeed, access to justice is at the heart of today’s international invest-
ment law, guaranteeing a standard of treatment to foreign investors–
and to nobody else. It is part of the idea of a customary “minimum
standard of treatment for aliens”, and an aspect of the individual’s right
to an impartial judicial remedy on the basis of the rule of law. The
right of access to justice is denied if an affected alien does not have
access to or is factually deprived of an effective remedy mechanism.
Historically, this gave rise to diplomatic protection and international
arbitration. Today, the protection standard for investors doing business
abroad has significantly improved. The main tenets are well known:
IIAs normally refer to international arbitration rules, such as those
relating to the ICSID mechanism, and the United Nations Commission
on International Trade Law (UNCITRAL). These rules provide for
the independent standing of investors. Investors are entitled to claim,
and see enforced, damages for infringement of treaty obligations.
Judicial review tends to be wide in scope; under the ICSID convention
it extends, for instance, to “any legal dispute arising directly out
of an investment”.29 “Investment” here is mostly understood in a broad
sense, comprising shares, stocks, rights conferred by law and under
contract, among others. Usually, investors are exempted from the duty
to exhaust local remedies.30 Under the ICSID regime, awards are
enforceable against state assets within the territory of a signatory state
of the ICSID convention.31 Enforcement of awards is effective. Most
arbitration regimes allow for marginal review only before national
courts. ICSID even excludes domestic court review of arbitral awards
and establishes a self-contained annulment procedure on the ground of
the legitimacy of the process of decision. International investment
arbitration generally does not provide appeal mechanisms.32 One-sided
enforcement of international investment standards risks endangering

28
 See F. Francioni (note 27), at 70.
29
 Article 25 of the ICSID Convention; for UNCITRAL rules see Article 1.
30
 A. Lorz, General Public International Law and International Investment Law: A
Research Sketch on Selected Issues, in: Beiträge zum Transnationalen Wirtschaftsrecht,
available at http://www.50yearsofbits.com/docs/0912211342_ILA_Working_Group
_IIL_PIL.pdf.
31
 Articles 53–55 of the ICSID Convention.
32
 See R. Dolzer / C. Schreuer (note 12), at 278 et seq. (2008).
376 thomas cottier, katja gehne & maria schultheiss

the careful balance and efficient promotion of all relevant factors which
prudent and responsible governance needs in seeking to achieve long-
term societal welfare and sustainable economic development.33
In contrast to the protection granted to investors to make their
claims, legal protection for those affected by investment protection is
virtually non-existent on the international level. The assumption that
internal legislation and governments are supposed to protect these
interests often does not materialize in practice. People often lack the
ability to make claims and are in a difficult position to raise their voices.
Governments may pursue interests of their own and independently of
those affected. They may share common interests with investors and
ignore the needs of people affected. And where courts take up the case,
they are faced with the primacy of arbitration rulings established in
international law. The discrepancy is striking. It can be easily under-
stood in terms of claims and responses in the process of international
law. Conceptually, part of this disequilibrium has its roots in the miss-
ing protection of property in terms of human rights.

C. Human Rights Protection of Property Rights

After World War II, the fundamental right to property was no longer
limited to protecting FDI, building upon the traditions of diplomatic
protection. From then on it equally entailed the protection of nationals
against intrusions, regulatory takings and restrictions by their own
governments. International law began to be introduced into domestic
affairs, as a reaction to past omissions and traumatic experiences. It
was then that international law reached the point of operating within
domestic jurisdictions. This process resulted from the need to protect
citizens against state failure–the very essence of human rights protec-
tion in international law.

33
This is expressed in the concept of sustainable development as set out by the inter-
national community, see United Nations, Report of the United Nations Conference on
Environment and Development, Annex I., Rio Declaration on Environment and
Development, UN Doc. A/CONF.151/26 (Vol. I), 12 August 1992; United Nations, Our
common future, Report of the World Commission on Environment and Development,
UN Doc. A/42/427, 4 August 1987; K. Gehne, Das Nachhaltigkeitskonzept als rechtli-
che Kategorie im Spannungsfeld zwischen staatlichen Regulierungsinteressen und
Investorschutz, in: M. Bungenberg / S. Hindelang / J. Griebel (note 19).
 the protection of property in international law377

Unlike in the field of investment, protection of property in human

rights is not based on utilitarian grounds, but relates to the rights to
autonomy, self-determination and the personal integrity of individuals.
It is rooted in human dignity which is at the heart of human rights.34
In the preamble to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, the
international community recognizes the inherent dignity of all human
beings. In this spirit, the right to property entitles people to enjoy and
control their belongings. It protects people from being dispossessed of
their personal belongings, upon which they build their livelihoods and
which allow them to live in dignity and self-determination. In this
spirit, property protection is closely linked to other human rights, such
as personal integrity, the right to family, the right to food and the right
to housing, which themselves show a close link to human dignity.

I. Global Law
Apart from investment protection, the protection of private real prop-
erty in international law largely failed to build upon the traditions of
constitutional law and fundamental rights protection in global law.35
The 1948 Universal Declaration on Human Rights recognizes the right
to property in Article 17, which states that “everyone has the right to
own property alone as well as in association with others”, and “no one
shall be deprived of his property”. It has remained a declaration in soft
law. Incompatible notions of property in the legal orders of socialist
and western countries made an international consensus on the con­
tent of the right to property impossible. While the western concept of

34
 Generally on the international human rights regime see T. Meron (ed.),
Human Rights in International Law–Legal and Policy Issues (1984); M. McDougal /
H. Lasswell / L. Chen, Human Rights and World Public Order (1980); W. Kälin /
J. Künzli, Universeller Menschenrechtsschutz (2005).
35
 For the sake of completeness, property protection in humanitarian law must be
mentioned here as well. The Hague Convention of 1907, as well as the Fourth Geneva
Convention of 1949 and the two Additional Protocols of 1977, contains liability provi-
sions in the event of intentional destruction of civilian property by armed forces in war.
See L. Brilmayer / G. Chepiga, Ownership or Use? Civilian Property Interests in
International Humanitarian Law, 49 (2) Harvard International Law Journal 413 (2008).
Also, property is protected by a prohibition of pillage (Art. 33:II Fourth Geneva
Convention; Art. 4:II(g) Second Additional Protocol), collective penalties (Art. 33:I
Fourth Geneva Convention; Art. 75:II(d) First Additional Protocol; Art. 4:II(b) Second
Additional Protocol) and reprisals against protected persons and their property
(Art. 33:III Fourth Geneva Convention). Civilian property in occupied territory is pro-
tected by Art. 53 Fourth Geneva Convention.
378 thomas cottier, katja gehne & maria schultheiss

property is essentially based on the theory of property propounded by

the English philosopher John Locke (1632–1704) and considers the
protection of property against unjustified and arbitrary encroachment
as the principal task of a modern constitutional state, the socialist con-
ception based on the ideas of Karl Marx (1818–1883) heavily limits, if
not excludes, private property. Since socialism in itself is considered to
constitute the realization of human rights, such rights cannot exist
independently of the socialist state and cannot delimit its sovereign
power.36 These two fundamentally distinct conceptions of property
have historically posed the main obstacle to an international consensus
with regard to property protection. Owing to this historical dissent on
the content of the right to property, property protection could not,
even in its most personal dimensions, develop into the binding global
human rights covenants, mainly the Covenants on Civil and Political
Rights and on Cultural, Economic and Social Rights. However, prop-
erty protection was recognized in a gender equality context. Articles
15(2) and 16(1)(h) of the Convention on the Elimination of all Forms
of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW) proclaim equal treat-
ment of women and men in respect of ownership of property with
regard to family and marriage.
The right to property is also subject to various non-binding soft law
instruments such as the Basic Principles and Guidelines on
Development-based Evictions and Displacement developed by the UN
Special Rapporteur on the right to adequate housing.37 In his report,
the Special Rapporteur recognizes the strong links between property in
land and other human rights such as the right to adequate housing, the
right to food, work, self-determination, and security of the person and
home, and, more generally, as a prerequisite for the “lives and liveli-
hoods” of the rural poor.38 Voluntary Guidelines on Responsible
Governance of Tenure of Land and other Natural Resources are cur-
rently being elaborated under the auspices of the Food and Agriculture
Organization of the United Nations (FAO).39 A special protection
standard has been established for indigenous peoples. Article 14

36
 L. von Carlowitz, Das Menschenrecht auf Eigentum von Flüchtlingen und
Vertriebenen, at 50 (2008).
37
 Report of the Special Rapporteur on adequate housing as a component of the
right to an adequate standard of living, Miloon Kothari, UN Doc. A/HRC/4/18 (2007).
38
 Id., para. 29.
39
 Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations, Towards Voluntary
Guidelines on Responsible Governance of Tenure of Land and Other Natural Resources
(2009), available at http://ftp.fao.org/docrep/fao/011/ak374e/ak374e00.pdf.
 the protection of property in international law379

International Labour Organization (ILO) Convention No. 169 (1989)

dealing with Indigenous and Tribal People in Independent Countries
anchors ownership and rights to the possession of land which people
traditionally occupy, including the state’s obligation to guarantee their
protection. The UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples
stipulates that states should make available effective mechanisms for
the prevention of, and redress for, any action which has the aim or
effect of dispossessing indigenous peoples of their lands, territories,
or resources (Article 8b) and that no relocation should take place
without the free, prior, and informed consent of the indigenous peo-
ples concerned and after agreement on just and fair compensation
(Article 10).40 Indigenous peoples’ rights, including their right to ances-
tral and traditional land, are on their way to being recognized as inter-
national customary law.41

II. Regional Law

On the regional level, the European Convention on Human Rights and
Fundamental Freedoms, the American Convention on Human Rights,
the African Charter on Human and People’s Rights and the Arab
Charter on Human Rights contain provisions regarding the protection
of private property. With the exception of under the Arab Charter on
Human Rights, regional human rights courts have jurisdiction regard-
ing the signatories’ compliance with the corresponding regional human
rights conventions.
Protocol No 1 to the European Human Rights Convention perhaps
amounts to the most prominent expression of property protection
in terms of a fundamental right.42 In a series of cases, the guarantee

40
United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Populations, UN Doc.
A/Res/61/295 (2007). Note that four states with significant indigenous populations
(Australia, Canada, New Zealand, and the USA) voted against the resolution.
41
 For a customary law body in terms of indigenous rights see J. Anaya, Indigenous
Peoples in International Law, at 142 (2nd ed., 2004).
42
 First Protocol to the Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and
Fundamental Freedoms as amended by Protocol No. 11
Article 1–Protection of Property:
Every natural or legal person is entitled to the peaceful enjoyment of his posses-
sions. No one shall be deprived of his possessions except in the public interest and
subject to the conditions provided for by law and by the general principles of interna-
tional law.
The preceding provisions shall not, however, in any way impair the right of a State
to enforce such laws as it deems necessary to control the use of property in accordance
with the general interest or to secure the payment of taxes or other contributions or
penalties.
380 thomas cottier, katja gehne & maria schultheiss

developed into a general principle of European law. Going beyond the

perception that human rights are inherently limited to individuals,
protection was extended to juridical persons and thus overlapped, in
substance, with investment protection. Article 1 of Protocol No 1 in the
context of the European Convention on Human Rights explicitly men-
tions “legal persons” which can qualify as “victims” under the
Convention if they can establish a property right.43 The scope of prop-
erty protection is broad, including the “enterprise” which comprises,
e.g. interests and relations, goodwill, potential sources of income, and
advertisement. One of the much-cited illustrative cases before the
European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) is Sporrong & Lönnroth v
Sweden concerning long-term expropriation permits granted by the
Swedish government to the authorities of Stockholm to be used if nec-
essary to implement an urban construction scheme. No expropriations
took place, but certain constraints regarding construction and renova-
tion were imposed on owners. Although the ECHR held that the effects
of the measure could not be deemed similar to a deprivation of posses-
sions, it stated that it “must determine whether a fair balance was struck
between the demands of the general interest of the community and the
requirements of the protection of the individual’s fundamental rights”.44
Pointing to the inflexibility of the Swedish legislation which did not
allow for a reduction of time-limits or compensation claims, the ECHR
held that there was no fair balance between the individuals’ position
and the general interest of the community in the construction scheme.45
Within the then European Economic Community (today the
European Union), property protection was at the heart of integrating
human rights into the process of forming a single market. While treaty
law contained no human rights guarantees, challenges to directives
and regulations under domestic constitutional law, in particular
before German courts, triggered the recognition of implied property

For an illustrative outline of the drafting process of Art. 1 First Protocol to the
ECHR see R. Dolzer, Eigentum, Enteignung und Entschädigung im geltenden
Völkerrecht, at 94–98 (1985).
43
 A. Coban, Protection of Property Rights within the European Convention on
Human Rights, at 134 (2004).
44
 ECHR, Sporrong/Lönnroth v. Sweden, Judgment of 23 September 1982, Appl.
Nos. 7151/75 and 7152/75, Series A No. 52, para. 69; see also for the proportionality
requirement ECHR, James and Others v. The United Kingdom, Judgment of 21 February
1986, Appl. No. 8793/79, Series A, paras. 50 and 63, and ICSID, Técnicas Medioam­
bientales Tecmed, S.A. v. The United Mexican States, ICSID Case No. ARB(AF)/00/2),
Award of 29 May 2003, para. 121.
45,
Sporrong/Lönnroth v. Sweden (note 45), para. 73.
 the protection of property in international law381

protection in a process of claims and responses.46 The European Court

of Justice was disposed to recognition primarily in order to safeguard
the principle of primacy of European Community law. The subsequent
dialogue of the Court with the German Constitutional Court, expound-
ing the Solange Doctrine, led to the full incorporation of human rights
protection into European Community law well beyond property
rights.47 This is perhaps the most impressive example of judge-made
law in recent times, long before it led to the adoption of the Charter of
Fundamental Rights of the European Union and its successive formal
incorporation into the Draft Treaty establishing a Constitution for
Europe, and into Article 6 of the Treaty of Lisbon.
The final wording of Article 21 American Convention on Human
Rights (ACHR) shows sharper contours than European law.48 With
regard to the legal consequences of a deprivation, Article 21(2) ACHR
is more explicit. Its scope has been further clarified by the Inter-
American Court on Human Rights in its judgment in The Mayagna
(Sumo) Awas Tingni Community v. Nicaragua.49 Practice and imple-
mentation show a closer link to the fundamentals of human dignity
and self-determination, in the specific context of rights of indigenous
people. The Court states that:
“the close relationship that the communities have with the land must be
recognized and understood as a foundation for their cultures, spiritual
life, cultural integrity and economic survival. […] The customary law of
indigenous peoples should especially be taken into account because of
the effects that flow from it. As a product of custom, possession of land

46
 See Case 11/70 Internationale Handelsgesellschaft [1970] ECR 1125; Case 44/79
Nold [1974] ECR 491.
47
BVerfGE (Bundesverfassungsgericht) 37, 271, 280 et seq. (1974); BVerfGE 73, 339,
387 et seq. (1986); see also BVerfGE 89, 155, 175 et seq. (regarding the compatibility of
the Maastricht Treaty with the German Grundgesetz) and BVerfGE, 2 BvE 2/08, 30 June
2009, para. 229 et seq. (regarding the compatibility of the Lisbon Treaty with the
German Grundgesetz).
48
 Article 21–Right to Property:
1. Everyone has the right to the use and enjoyment of his property. The law may
subordinate such use and enjoyment to the interest of society.
2. No one shall be deprived of his property except upon payment of just compen-
sation, for reasons of public utility or social interest, and in the cases and according to
the forms established by law.
3. Usury and any other form of exploitation of man by man shall be prohibited by
law.
49
 Inter-Am. Ct. H. R., The Mayagna (Sumo) Awas Tingni Community Case,
Judgment on the Preliminary Objections of 1 February 2000, Series C No. 66, available
at http://www1.umn.edu/humanrts/iachr/C/66-ing.html.
382 thomas cottier, katja gehne & maria schultheiss

should suffice to entitle indigenous communities without title to their

land to obtain official recognition and registration of their rights of
ownership”.50
The Court finally found that “article 21 of the Convention protects
the right to property in the sense that it comprises, among other things,
the rights of members of indigenous communities within the frame-
work of communal possession”.51 This position is mirrored in the
Draft American Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, cur-
rently evolving under the auspices of the Organization of American
States. The Draft Declaration with regard to property rights states in
Article XXIV(2):
“Indigenous peoples have the right to the legal recognition of the various
and particular modalities and forms of property, possession, and owner-
ship of their lands and territories, in accordance with the principles of the
legal system of each state. The states shall establish the special regimes
appropriate for such recognition, and for their effective demarcation or
titling”.52
In Sawhoyamaxa Indigenous Community v. Paraguay, the Inter-
American Court of Human Rights took another firm stand in favour of
indigenous land users vis-à-vis a foreign investor, expressly stating that
“the enforcement of bilateral commercial treaties negates vindication
of non-compliance with state obligations under the American
Convention; on the contrary, their enforcement should always be com-
patible with the American Convention […]”.53
In contrast to the European and American Conventions, the African
Human Rights Charter does not explicitly refer to the legal
consequences of a deprivation.54 However, the whole purpose of the

50
 Id., para. 149.
51
 Inter-Am. Ct. H. R., The Mayagna (Sumo) Indigenous Community of Awas Tingni
v. the Republic of Nicaragua, Judgment of 31 August 2001, as quoted by F. MacKay,
Guide to Indigenous Peoples’ Rights in the Inter-American Human Rights System, at
90, available at http://www.iwgia.org/sw275.asp).
52
Permanent Council of the Organization of American States, Record of the
Current Status of the Draft American Declaration on the Rights on Indigenous Peoples,
OEA/Ser.K/XVI, 3 December 2009, available at http://www.oas.org/consejo/sp/CAJP/
docs/dadin00299e09.doc.
53
 Inter-Am. Ct. H. R., Sowhoyamaxa Indigenous Community v. Paraguay, Judgment
of 29 March 2006, para. 140, available at http://www.ggp.up.ac.za/human_rights
_access_to_medicines/additional/2009/inter%20american%20legal%20materials/
SawhoyamaxaIndigenousCommunityv.ParaguayIACtHR2006.pdf.
54
 Article 14: The right to property shall be guaranteed. It may only be encroached
upon in the interest of public need or in the general interest of the community and in
accordance with the provisions of appropriate laws.
 the protection of property in international law383

provision, which aims to protect the right holder vis-à-vis the public
with regard to his property, suggests that compensation shall be
granted.55
Finally, the Arab Charter on Human Rights, the most recent regional
human rights convention, contains in Article 31 (a) a provision which
protects private property.56 Its scope has not hitherto been clarified.

D. A Brief Comparison with Intellectual

Property Protection

These evolutions in regional international law, however, cannot negate

the finding that the protection of people’s property in global law has
been left behind, strongly contrasting with the evolution of property
protection under international investment law. The same is true when
a comparison is made with intellectual property protection.57 The dif-
ference could not be more marked. Given the importance of intellec-
tual property for trade and movable property, claims and responses to
enhanced protection of intellectual property in the 19th century
resulted in what amounts to the very first multilateral agreements in
international economic law. The 1983 Paris Convention for the
Protection of Industrial Property and the 1986 Berne Convention for
the Protection of Literary and Artistic Works were achieved in a pro-
cess of multilateralizing bilateral agreements. They formed the basis of
subsequent efforts to bring about the international registration of intel-
lectual property rights. Under the auspices of the World Intellectual
Property Organization (WIPO) in Geneva, formerly the International
Bureau located in Berne, Switzerland, the foundations of a global sys-
tem were laid. Due to substantial differences in economic and social

55
 See R. Dolzer (note 43), at 105.
56
 Article 31: Everyone has a guaranteed right to own private property, and shall not
under any circumstances be arbitrarily or unlawfully divested of all or any part of his
property.
57
The point was made in T. Cottier, Geistiges Eigentum Handel und nachhaltige
Entwicklung. Erfahrungen und Perspektiven im Nord-Süd Verhältnis, in: W. Meng /
U. Magnus / S. Schlemmer-Schulte / T. Cottier / P. T. Stoll / A. Epiney, Das ­internationale
Recht im Nord-Süd Verhältnis, 41 Berichte der Deutschen Gesellschaft für Völkerrecht
237, at 239–242. For an overview of the advanced levels of property protection see
T. Cottier, Bedeutung und Wirkung der Staatsverträge im Immaterialgüterrecht, in:
R. von Büren / L. David, Schweizerisches Immaterialgüter- und Wettbewerbsrecht I/1,
at 35–122 (2nd ed., 2002). For a comprehensive discussion see F. Abbott / T. Cottier /
F. Gurry, The International Intellectual Property System: Commentary and Materials
(2 vols., 1999).
384 thomas cottier, katja gehne & maria schultheiss

development and the importance of imitation and access to technology

and knowledge, the process of decolonization and the pursuit of import
substitution policies, developing countries refrained from agreeing to
strengthen existing and often vague standards which left countries
with ample policy space. For a long time the protection of intellectual
property rights was considered hostile and detrimental to develop-
ment, mainly serving the interests of the developed world. This attitude
and impasse induced the United States and later the European Union
to introduce the subject into negotiations under the General Agreement
on Tariffs and Trade. Going beyond the problem of piracy and counter-
feiting, the Uruguay Round produced an impressive body of substan-
tive and procedural standards relating to the protection of intellectual
prop­erty. The Agreement on Trade-Related Aspects of Intellectual
Prop­erty Rights (TRIPS Agreement) addressed all forms of intellec­
tual property, including the protection of undisclosed information.
It incorporated the substantive provisions of the Paris and Berne
Conventions and thus resulted in what amounts to an impressive agree-
ment on intellectual property in global law, binding more than 150
states. The Agreement turned out to be of great importance primarily
among industrialized countries. Dispute settlement has been employed
in several leading cases with a view to bringing about a level playing
field among competing economies.58 The original motive of enhancing
protection in developing countries has been important, but disputes
were essentially limited to emerging economies, in particular India and
China. Overall tensions remain between developed and developing
countries in terms of appropriate levels of protection, policy space and
the role of intellectual property in the process of transferring technol-
ogy and knowhow. The TRIPS Agreement sets high standards, and
developing countries have been reluctant ever since to agree on further
rules in WIPO or in the WTO, except for those relating to better access
to essential drugs which, interestingly, relates to human rights
protection.
Intellectual property is not founded in human rights, but is a result
of utilitarian considerations and policies. Rights to personality protec-
tion partly translate into copyright protection for authors in terms of
moral rights and exceptionally offer a human rights dimension
expressed by Article 27 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights

58
 For an update on IPR-related WTO cases see http://www.wto.org, disputes by
agreement.
 the protection of property in international law385

and Article 15 of the Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural

Rights.59 Again, the protection of investment, both intellectual and
material, carries the day, and the more interesting question is to what
extent the shaping and application of intellectual property rights is or
should be influenced by human rights standards. Most prominently,
the impacts of human rights, in particular the right to life and the right
to health, were relevant in shaping new rules on access to essential
drugs in the WTO and the revision of Article 31 TRIPS Agreement on
compulsory licensing.60
Given the importance of intellectual property for commerce and
trade, it is no surprise that the emphasis in property protection at the
multilateral level has been in this field, rather than in providing real
protection. Efforts to establish multilateral rules on investment protec-
tion have so far failed owing to conflicting interests. The effort to bring
about such an agreement (multilateral agreement on investment
(MAI)) within the OECD failed, partly due to the interest of stakehold-
ers in the cultural industries, and partly to the failure to take appropri-
ately into account the interests of developing countries. While the
overall system of intellectual property protection perhaps amounts to
the most advanced area of standard-setting and harmonization in
international economic law, real property protection remains scattered,
bilateral and largely one-sided, and is non-existent in global human
rights law.

E. Resulting Imbalances in International Law

When one compares the international standard of investment and

intellectual property law and the human rights regime, the asymmetry
in the protection and enforcement of commercial interests on the one
hand, and human rights interests on the other is apparent. Both invest-
ment and human rights law and remedy mechanisms are international
protection mechanisms tying states’ sovereignty to legal standards

59
1. The States parties to the present Covenant recognize that right of everyone:
….
c.) To benefit from the protection of the moral and material interests resulting
from any scientific, literary or artistic production of which he is the author.
60
 See e.g. F. Abbott, The TRIPS Agreement, Access to Medicines and the WTO
Doha Ministerial Conference, FSU College of Law, Public Law Working Paper No. 36
and QUNO Occasional Paper No. 7, at 25 (October 2001), available at http://ssrn.com/
abstract=285934 or doi:10.2139/ssrn.285934.
386 thomas cottier, katja gehne & maria schultheiss

imposing respect for individual rights and commercial interests.

International investment law is understood as an instrument to protect
and enforce the overall public interest relating to economic freedom as
a macroeconomic instrument for achieving growth and welfare,
whereas human rights law is rooted in the individual’s dignity, integrity
and freedom which are to be protected from arbitrary compromise. As
Thomas Wälde has put it, “the role of investment treaties is to provide
an external anchor for economic policies that are in the long-term sen-
sible for national economies and the global economy”.61 Similarly,
international human rights law provides an external anchor for policies
of societal organization which are, in the long-term at least, equally
sensible for national societies and the global community. However,
while protection and remedy mechanisms in international law are
comprehensive and effective with regard to economic interests, there
are missing pieces in the provisions for a similar standard of protection
in the realm of human rights. Given the process of claims and responses,
the lack of human rights protection in real property is not surprising.
Industries relying upon FDI as well as upon intellectual property are
empowered to raise their voices and be heard in the political process in
international relations. Those in need of real property protection at
home are not. Small-scale farmers and rural communities do not have
the means to have their interests heard effectively. Often, there is no
chance of invoking property rights due to legal uncertainties.

I. The Global Foreign Land Acquisition Trend

Major imbalances and “claims” for human rights property protection
become obvious with the example of the recent trend towards interest
in large-scale FDI in land. Interest in investment in land has increased
significantly in recent years, mainly in the aftermath of the 2007–2008
food crisis which “has changed appetites” of investors.62 Private inves-
tors, including investment funds, targeting huge benefits involved in
the volatile prices in agricultural business, but also capital-endowed
high-food consumption countries “grabbing” farmland abroad to bol-
ster their food security, have generated an average annual expansion of

61
Quoted from G. van Harten (note 22).
62
J. Blas, A domestic crop from fields in a foreign land, Financial Times,
15 October 2010, at 2, available at http://www.ft.com/cms/s/0/6b08189e-d65a-11df-
81f0–00144feabdc0.html.
 the protection of property in international law387

global agricultural land from less than 4 million hectares before 2008
to 45 million hectares before the end of 2009.63 Over 70% of this
demand has been in natural resource-endowed low-income African
countries, such as Ethiopia, Mozambique, Tanzania and Sudan.64
A deal which directed the attention of the world’s public towards the
“land grab” issue was an investment project envisaged by South Korean
Daewoo Logistics, which was attempting to lease for 99 years a large
part of Madagascar’s arable land. Most of the production was supposed
to be directly exported to South Korea with no transparency regarding
the livelihoods of the local Malagasy population concerned. The deal
played a major role in a coup d’état in Madagascar in 2009 which is still
destabilizing the country.
In these “land grab” cases, effective real property protection to safe-
guard people’s livelihoods and development interests could help to pre-
vent severe adverse impacts on basic human rights. As holders of legally
recognized and properly documented rights, people become negotia-
tors in deals concerning their lands and can expect their right to be
upheld by a court. Moreover, there are investors’ interests at stake.
Investors face problems if their projects are compromised by people’s
resistance, or by riots, or if they carry the risk of major human rights
violations damaging their reputation. Thus, the lacuna or “claim” of
international law regarding property protection for people is obvious.
Security of tenure and proper land administration under international
law have significant potential to bring relief to the local land users, in
particular in emerging situations of “land grabbing”, with the effect of
ensuring more stable situations and less risk for foreign investments.

II. Lack of Promotion and Protection of Land Registration

It is beyond doubt that legal security and registration of land rights are
an indispensible condition for ensuring people’s property rights and a
prerequisite for the social and economic development of rural areas.
Without land registration and allocation of property rights, land can-
not serve as collateral, and mortgages do not take place. The impor-
tance of property rights and the resulting security of tenure is clearly
recognized by development economists and lawyers alike. One major

63
The World Bank, Rising Global Interest in Farmland: Can it Yield Sustainable and
Equitable Benefits?, at vi (2010), available at http://siteresources.worldbank.org/
INTARD/Resources/ESW_Sept7_final_final.pdf.
64
 Id.
388 thomas cottier, katja gehne & maria schultheiss

task in improving land governance is the legalization of customary

rights. As opposed to formal rights, customary rights are not legal in
the strict sense, but are legitimate based on a social and cultural con-
sensus over ownership and use.65 For example, in Madagascar, land was
traditionally owned by the family and passed on by inheritance; land
conflicts were resolved by traditional local authorities. The French
colonial power introduced a registration system, but it was not com-
pleted or continued after independence. Non-titled land was presumed
to belong to the state. In 2005, a service was introduced which allowed
people and communities to obtain land certificates through mobile
registration units (“guichets foncier”) if they could prove that they gave
added value to the land. However, these titles do not have full judicial
value as property titles, and they do not necessarily constitute real
obstacles when a state which has grey zones of property rights is inter-
ested in large and lucrative foreign investment.
Full security of tenure regarding these traditional rights depends on
the authorities’ willingness to formalize such legally unrecognized
rights. These customary rights are mostly successfully managed by
local institutions. However, such rights are often not recognized on the
national level. De Soto has prominently made this point and has drawn
attention to the importance of bringing about proper and secure land
registration.66 Security of tenure and proper land administration have
enormous potential to bring relief to local land users in situations
where their land is taken by the state for reasons of public interest, as,
for example, in the case of foreign investment.
Yet the matter has so far been left to domestic law. The international
community, while partly engaging in development assistance, has
failed to recognize the need to develop appropriate guarantees in inter-
national law beyond development assistance which oblige countries to
act accordingly, to be responsive and accountable. As of today, and sub-
ject to regional law, states are not under any obligation to secure prop-
erty rights within their territory in international law. There is no

65
P. De Wit / C. Tanner / S. Norfold, Land Policy Development in an African
Context–Lessons learned from selected experiences, at 64, available at http://ftp.fao
.org/docrep/fao/012/ak547e/ak547e00.pdf.
66
 For an examination of the extra-legal property system in Tanzania and the need
to connect it with the formal system see H. De Soto, The Challenge of Connecting
Informal and Formal Property Systems, in: H. De Soto / F. Cheneval, Realizing Property
Rights, at 18 (2006).
 the protection of property in international law389

monitoring by international institutions. States are not accountable,

and international law continues to treat the matter as black box. Efforts
to bring about minimal guarantees have largely failed so far, even for
the most vulnerable communities. The needs to protect the rights of
indigenous peoples–and thus of minorities–have not gone beyond the
stage of soft law declarations as described above, and are only just
beginning to crystallize into customary law, despite an apparent need
to protect their livelihoods both from the point of view of human dig-
nity and to ensure the preservation of cultural diversity and biodiver-
sity. The claim to protect traditional knowledge in the field of plant
genetic resources was made some ten years ago, but has not had con-
crete results. It still depends on broad precepts of unfair competition
law.67
These shortcomings may be explained by several factors. Firstly, real
property issues are deeply embedded in the tradition of rei sitae, and
thus considered a matter of domestic concern and national sovereignty.
The matter is subject to self-determination and non-intervention,
unless foreign owned property is involved. Secondly, land rights and
real property affect the allocation of powers within a given society.
Large landowners are interested in maintaining the status quo and are
likely to prevail in informing governmental policies in this field.
Thirdly, foreign direct investors are concerned about the protection of
their own interests and are not interested in strengthening the rights of
rural communities which may later hamper the pursuit of investment
projects. Fourthly, many countries show weak governance structures.
Neither the executive branch, nor the legislator, nor the courts are
able effectively to protect the interests of their citizens despite existing
rights in domestic law. All too often, states fail to protect the property
rights of the weak. There is often a hidden agenda behind host govern-
ments’ interests in FDI: decision makers benefit personally from invest-
ments through individual gains when involved in the deal, being
sub-contracted as advisors, enjoying gifts or benefiting from corrup-
tion. This creates imbalances in favour of investors’ interests, where the
state is not assuming its role in balancing interests and fostering
development.

67
 On the protection of traditional knowledge see S. Biber-Klemm / T. Cottier,
Rights to Plant Genetic Resources and Traditional Knowledge–Basic Issues and
Perspectives (2006).
390 thomas cottier, katja gehne & maria schultheiss

F. Efforts at Rebalancing Needed

There is thus an obvious “claim” to find a better balance within the

concept of property in international law. The effort has to be made both
in substance and in procedural terms.

I. Recognizing Competing Property Rights

The right to property reflects the fact that human rights positions are
two-faced: on the one hand, they protect economic freedom by pro-
tecting property as the basis of economic interest. In this respect, the
right to property may be limited in order to address social injustices
and to protect or foster conflicting economic, social and cultural rights
of disadvantaged members of society.68 On the other hand the right to
property can be related to the dignity of people as it contributes to
essential economic and social rights, including the rights to housing,
food, and security. Regarding the different facets of the right to prop-
erty, it is apparent that, compared to the current investment protection
standard, the social and dignity-related aspects of property rights are
not sufficiently protected in the landscape of international law. The case
of the current international “land grab” is a good example of the risks,
not only for the international economy but also for the international
community and for security, which are involved in an unbalanced
system which is one-sidedly protecting and fostering the commer­
cial interest. It is not that the business side is unimportant or less
important–­it is, not least, the driving force of opportunities for people
to enjoy human rights–it is that the other aspects are equally impor-
tant, with human dignity and essential needs at the core of the resolu-
tion of conflicting cases. As the UN Secretary General’s Special
Representative for Business and Human Rights (SRSG), John Ruggie,
notes:
“History teaches us that markets pose the greatest risks–to society and
business itself–when their scope and power far exceed the reach of the
institutional underpinnings that allow them to function smoothly and
ensure their political sustainability. This is such a time and escalating
charges of corporate-related human rights abuses are the canary in the
coal mine, signalling that all is not well.”69

68
 See e.g. ECHR, James and others v. The United Kingdom. Application No. 8793/79,
Judgment of 21 February 1986, para. 47.
69
J. Ruggie, Report of the Special Representative of the Secretary-General on the
issue of human rights and transnational corporations and other business enterprises:
 the protection of property in international law391

International property rights are part of this picture, not least because
they clearly reflect the balance which needs to be struck to protect all
the different aspects of property in an appropriate and economically
efficient manner.
Again, Madagascar is a good example of the opportunities, risks and
challenges involved in foreign investment in land, as recently outlined
and addressed by a joint initiative of the Food and Agricultural
Organization of the United Nations (FAO), the International Fund of
Agricultural Development (IFAD), the United Nations Conference on
Trade and Development (UNCTAD) and the World Bank.70 There is a
huge potential in land which is lying idle or could be cultivated more
effectively.71 Global as well as local demand and long-term food supply
require the mobilization of agricultural production. According to the
World Bank the “projected increase in demand for agricultural com-
modities over the next decade could be met without cutting down for-
ests, by increasing productivity and farmland expansion in non-forested
areas”.72 If investments in agriculture are made responsibly, they can
not only improve the trade balance of a country such as Madagascar by
increasing agricultural exports and reducing food imports, as well as
contributing to employment, food supply, social services, education
and infrastructure, but also help to meet the needs of a larger picture of
long-term global food security and adaptation to climate change.
If, however, investments destroy people’s livelihoods, exploit the for-
eign land, and agricultural commodities are sent directly to the benefit-
ing countries without passing through the national or the world market
they are, with good reason, branded as a new form of colonialist exploi-
tation causing global harm.73 This is why there is widespread consensus
that increased foreign investment in land is needed, but only under the
condition that this investment is made responsibly. The joint initiative
by the FAO and the other bodies has identified seven key principles

Protect, Respect, and Remedy: a Framework for Business and Human Rights, UN Doc.
A/HRC/8/5, para. 2.
70
 FAO, IFAD, UNCTAD, The World Bank, Roundtable. 2009: Promoting
Responsible International Investment in Agriculture, Chair’s Summary, available at
http://www.landcoalition.org/cpl-blog/wp-content/uploads/09_09_investment
_roundtable_ilcsec_report.pdf.
71
 See A. Uellenberg, Foreign Direct Investment (FDI) in Land in Madagascar, at 9
(2009), available at http://www2.gtz.de/wbf/4tDx9kw63gma/gtz2010–0063en-foreign
-direct-investment-madagascar.pdf.
72
 See The World Bank (note 64), at vii.
73
 See J. Blas (note 63), at 2.
392 thomas cottier, katja gehne & maria schultheiss

necessary to ensure that investments in land are sustainable and equi-

table;74 the Special Rapporteur on the Right to Food, Olivier de Schutter,
has sketched out the human rights obligations involved in investment
in agriculture and made recommendations on how they could be met.75
All these initiatives underline the importance of due respect for
people’s land rights or shifts in land use for the affected population,
mainly to ensure livelihoods and prevent social conflicts which could
destabilize investments. Additionally, land rights are at the heart of a
development-friendly land governance system aimed at informed,
participatory, socially and environmentally friendly investments. Eco­
nomically effective public planning in this regard is a key factor of
responsible investment.76 Land rights constitute the legal transmission
piece which bolsters up people to raise their voices within the broader
picture of investment deals, with a potential to link the interests of the
investor and the people in the investment. Property rights could also
indirectly protect other related human rights, such as the right to ade-
quate housing77 and the right to food.78 Many developing countries tar-
geted for FDI in land, like Madagascar, have modern environmental
laws and require environmental or sustainability impact assessments,
including the involvement of the population concerned and compen-
sation for expropriation.79

II. Developing Appropriate Remedies and Procedures

The inherent tension between different and competing property rights
and the need to balance these rights in a particular context call for the

74
 See The World Bank (note 64), at xii.
75
 O. de Schutter, Large-Scale Land Acquisitions and Leases: A set of core principles
and measures to address the human rights challenge, at 13 et seq. (2009), available at
http://www2.ohchr.org/english/issues/food/docs/BriefingNotelandgrab.pdf.
76
 See The World Bank (note 64), at 68 et seq.
77
 Report of the Special Rapporteur on adequate housing as a component of the
right to an adequate standard of living, Miloon Kothari, UN Doc. A/HRC/4/18,
5 February 2007.
78
 C. Courtis, The Right to Food as a Justiciable Right: Challenges and Strategies,
11 Max Planck Yearbook of United Nations Law 317, at 323 et seq. (2007).
79
 Land acquisitions by investors are governed by law (Loi No. 2007–036 of
14 January 2008 about investments in Madagascar). Projects concerning more than
1,000 hectares require environmental impact assessments which involve the popula-
tion. According to décret No. 99–954 relatif à la mise en compatibilité des investisse-
ments avec l’environnement, issued by the Ministère l’Environnement, des Forêts et du
Tourisme in 1999, expropriation needs to be compensated according to a negotiating
process with people affected by the investment.
 the protection of property in international law393

development of appropriate procedures. This is a matter of creating

adequate substance-structure pairings able to consider the interest of
all stakeholders on an equal footing and with fairness. It should be
recalled that procedural human rights are of equal importance to sub-
stantive rights. Without the former, the latter remain ineffective. The
right to a remedy in itself being a separate human right,80 it is crucial
that there are appropriate remedies in cases of potential human rights
violations. In the present context, it is evident that the procedural rights
of those affected by investment fall short of the procedures which are
available to investors to obtain equal standing and defences. Investor–
state dispute settlement needs to be complemented by procedures giv-
ing a voice to those affected. Opening up to amicus curiae has been a
first step in allowing people’s concerns to be heard in international
investment arbitration,81 but adequate procedures to intervene on the
level of international law independently of cases which have been initi-
ated by investors still need to be developed. Tools allowing the further
representation of peoples’ rights, e.g. regarding the expert background
of the arbitrators in given cases, could be put in place. The potential of
class actions on the level of international law should be studied.
Mechanisms for negotiations and consultations with a view to prevent-
ing disputes could be developed in order to address the currently
inherent imbalance in remedies available under international law.

G. Conclusions

The lack of protection of land rights and real property, in particular

that of small-scale farmers and indigenous communities, results over-
all in state failure, which international law should address in the same
manner as it has addressed state failure in other areas of property law
and beyond. The main areas and principles of international economic
law particularly serve this function. This is not true just for the princi-
ples of non-discrimination and transparency and the more specific
rules of the WTO, including intellectual property rights, but also for
bilateral and customary investment protection standards. This should

80
 See e.g. Art. 8 UDHR, Art. 2(3), 9(5) and 14(6) ICCPR.
81
 See for an overview E. Levine, Amicus Curiae in International Investment
Arbitration: The Implications of an Increase in Third-Party Participation, Series 2,
Harvard European Law Association Working Paper (2009), available at http://www
.law.harvard.edu/students/orgs/hela/workingpaper2010.html.
394 thomas cottier, katja gehne & maria schultheiss

be equally true for human rights related real property rights, the main
function of which is by international law to protect citizens within their
own countries.
Given the existing imbalances, we therefore see a need to foster the
human rights dimension of real property protection in international
law. The example of rebalancing the intellectual property rights within
the TRIPS Agreement with a view to accommodating basic needs and
access to essential drugs shows that this can be achieved. Appropriate
claims therefore also can and need to be made in the field of protecting
real property with a view to rebalancing investment protection, human
rights and sustainable development. From this angle, it is not a matter
of comprehensively introducing real property protection by standards
of individual rights encompassing all forms of property including
investment. It is a matter of searching for the core of the human rights
dimension in this particular context. This core is inextricably linked to
the personal rights and needs of humans. It is linked to the livelihood
and the living conditions of individuals. Real property protection as a
human right builds upon the fundamental rights of human dignity and
personality. It protects property to the extent that such property pro-
vides the foundation of the livelihood and well-being and happiness of
individuals and families. To the extent that people depend upon real
and movable property for their livelihood, such property deserves pro-
tection under human rights standards. Defining real property protec-
tion in these terms is far from the fundamental struggles on private or
public ownership in a given society, which so far have prevented the
adoption of core standards in global law and an appropriate balance
between the rights of investors and of those affected by FDI and by
policies implemented by their own governments. The human rights
dimension here is also less extensive than what courts have recognized
in regional instruments, allocating human rights to juridical persons
too. It is important to shape human rights not only in terms of funda-
mental systemic decisions, but also in such a manner as to allow them
to address specific constellations and human needs and threats to
human dignity. The right to personal private property entails the right
not to be stripped of personal belongings, the right to stay in the place
by means of which a person earns a livelihood for himself and his or
her family. Human rights need to protect the weak and those in need of
rights. Whenever these rights are affected in a given constellation and
conflict, they need to be taken into account. Human rights of real prop-
erty protection therefore inherently operate on a case by case basis.
 the protection of property in international law395

They need to become an important part in the process of balancing

interests and provide guidance on finding an appropriate solution to a
dispute. The right to personal belongings and things must be part of
the core of the right. It is not subject to restrictions. Rights to land may
be. Overriding public interests may even lead to expropriation and
regulatory taking. The right, however, would ensure that this would not
happen without a necessity test being passed, and the proper balancing
of interests and compensation. Since a right relating to human dignity
and personality is affected, compensation should be full and prompt.
The human right to real property does not need further specifica-
tion. It exists and simply awaits recognition within the realm of human
dignity. There is no need for further treaty-making and legislation on
the right to real property, both movable and real property, in the per-
sonal sense depicted above. This right essentially relies upon the right
to human dignity and merely reflects an expression of that right in an
area essential to human existence, survival and livelihood. It is up to
courts of law to recognize such a right, in particular in the context of
investment disputes. Those affected should be entitled to legal repre-
sentation through independent counsel or non-governmental organi-
zations. A right without a voice is not a right. It needs procedural
safeguards. The main efforts need to focus on developing appropriate
procedures, in particular within the realm of investment dispute pre-
vention and investment dispute settlement. International law has to
make sure that all stakeholders have a voice and can make their claims
and responses.
The human right to real property and its use, based upon the respect
for human dignity, amounts to the most important and pressing miss-
ing piece in property protection in international law. However, it is not
the only one. Human rights protection of real property should also
induce programmes of land registration and the empowerment of rural
populations. This is the programmatic side of the right and is subject to
progressive achievement. The right to development should be read so
as to entail the right to registration and the right to legal security within
a given system of domestic property allocation. Whenever domestic
law provides for property rights, titles should be available and accessi-
ble and respect local traditional land rights. Whenever land is leased to
private persons, the right should extend to the protection of the lease
and to the provision of legal security within that system. The human
right to property therefore does not inherently entail full ownership of
land, but secures the protection of personal belongings and the rights
396 thomas cottier, katja gehne & maria schultheiss

to use the land within a given system. International law should con-
tinue to respect different models of allocation of means of production.
However, it should equally protect and enforce the rights to personal
belongings and to predictability. It needs to protect all people from the
effects of arbitrary governmental action, including government failure
within a given system of property allocation.
 Wirtschaftliche, soziale und kulturelle Rechte:
Menschen- oder auch Grundrechte?

Constance Grewe

A. Einleitung

Rüdiger Wolfrum, dem diese Zeilen gewidmet sein sollen, hat kürzlich
eine Studie über Solidarität als strukturierendes Prinzip des Völker-
rechts veranlasst;1 aber auch in der Grundrechtecharta der EU wird der
Solidarität ein ganzes Kapitel gewidmet, in dem ein Großteil der wirt-
schaftlichen, sozialen und kulturellen Rechte (wsk Rechte) verankert
ist. Das andere für diese Rechte relevante Kapitel der Grundrechtecharta
betrifft die Gleichheit. Zum Verständnis und zur Auslegung des Dis-
kriminierungsverbots im Rahmen des Internationalen Paktes über
wirtschaftliche, soziale und kulturelle Rechte hat Rüdiger Wolfrum in
der Festschrift für Eibe Riedel deutlich gemacht, wie sich dieses Verbot
von einem akzessorischen zu einem selbständigen Recht zu entwickeln
scheint.2 Man könnte daher den Eindruck haben, die sozialen Rechte3
stellten heutzutage ein präzises juristisches Konzept dar. Der Begriff

1
R. Wolfrum/C. Kojima (Hrsg.), Solidarity: A Structural Principle of International
Law (2010).
2
R. Wolfrum, Die Bedeutung des Diskriminierungsverbots für wirtschaftliche,
soziale und kulturelle Rechte, in: D. Hanschel/S. Graf von Kielmannsegg/U. Kischel/
R.A. Lorz (Hrsg.), Praxis des internationalen Menschenrechtsschutzes. Entwicklungen
und Perspektiven, 43 (2008).
3
Dieser häufig im Schrifttum gebrauchte Begriff soll die gesamten wirtschaftlichen,
sozialen und kulturellen Rechte umfassen; um nur einige in den letzten Jahren erschie-
nene Publikationen zu nennen: J. Iliopoulos-Strangas (Hrsg.), La protection des
droits sociaux fondamentaux dans les États membres de l’Union européenne (2000);
J. Iliopoulos-Strangas (Hrsg.), Soziale Grundrechte in Europa nach Lissabon (2010);
E. Riedel, International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (1966),
in: Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law, verfügbar unter http://www
.mpepil.com; N. Aliprantis (Hrsg.), Les droits sociaux dans les instruments européens
et internationaux. Défis à l’échelle mondiale (2009); C. Scott, Reaching Beyond (Wit-
hout Abandoning) the Category of ‘Economic, Social and Cultural Rights’, 21 Human
Rights Quarterly 633 (1999); EUI Working Papers, The Fundamentalisation of Social
Rights, EUI LAW 2009/05; C. M. Herrera, Les droits sociaux, Que sais-je? Nr. 3847
(2009); G. de Burca/B. de Witte (Hrsg.), Social Rights in Europe (2005); H.J. Steiner/
P. Alston/R. Goodman, International Human Rights in Context, Law, Politics, Morals.
Text and Materials (3. Aufl. 2007).
398 constance grewe

erweist sich gleichwohl als höchst vage, da sowohl das positive Recht je
nach Epochen und Ländern, als auch die Lehre die verschiedensten
Definitionen vorgeschlagen haben. Begrenzt man die Bilanz auf
Europa, so kann man fünf Bereiche ausmachen, in denen üblicher-
weise von sozialen Rechten gesprochen wird: Diese sind Arbeit, soziale
Sicherung, Bildung, Schutz der Familie und die minimalen Existenzbe-
dingungen. Offensichtlich sagt jedoch diese Aufzählung weder über
den präzisen Schutzbereich der betreffenden Rechte noch über deren
normativen Gehalt oder Spezifizität etwas aus. In Europa wird die
Existenz einer solchen Spezifizität oft vertreten, und zwar hauptsäch-
lich in der Form einer Genealogie,4 der zufolge die verschiedenen
Rechte in einem bestimmten chronologischen, aber auch normativen
und politischen Beziehungsgeflecht stehen.
Diese Lehre konstruiert zwischen einerseits den sozialen und ande-
rerseits den zivilen Rechten einen radikalen Unterschied, der dazu
führt, erstere als eine besondere, wenngleich mindere Kategorie von
Rechten zu betrachten. Soziale Rechte würden sich nicht nur in ihrem
Inhalt von den zivilen Rechten unterscheiden, sie wurden auch später
anerkannt. Unmerklich kommt hier ein politisches Element ins Spiel.
Der Liberalismus, getragen von einer eher pessimistischen Geschichts-
auffassung, neigt dazu, die älteren Rechte als die wichtigsten zu
betrachten, während für die Sozialisten die liberalen Freiheiten nur
formelle, die sozialen Rechte dagegen die echten darstellen. Die genea-
logische Sicht der Rechte impliziert demnach eine in erster Linie ideo-
logische Kontroverse, in der aber auch die juristische Technik eine
Rolle spielt. So werden die zivilen Rechte, die dem Staat ein Beschrän-
ken/Unterlassen von Eingriffen vorschreiben, den sozialen Rechten
gegenübergestellt, bei denen aktives Handeln erforderlich sei. Dieser
starke Gegensatz hat die Lehre im 19. Jahrhundert dominiert und

4
R. Pisillo Mazzeschi, Responsabilité de l’Etat pour violation des obligations positi-
ves relatives aux droits de l’homme, 333 Recueil des Cours 175 (2008); K. Vasak, Les
différentes catégories des droits de l’homme, in: A. Lapeyre/F. de Tinguy/K. Vasak
(Hrsg.), Les Dimensions universelles des droits de l’homme (1991); C. Tomuschat,
Human Rights: Between Idealism and Realism (2008); Kritisch: F. Sudre, Droit euro-
péen et international des droits de l’homme (10. Aufl. 2011); D. J. Whelan/J. Donnelly,
The West, Economic and Social Rights, and the Global Human Rights Regime: Setting
the Record Straight, 29 Human Rights Quarterly 908 (2007); A. Kirkup/T. Evan, The
Myth of Western Opposition to Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights? A Reply to
Whelan and Donnelly, 31 Human Rights Quarterly 221 (2009); D. J. Whelan/J. Don-
nelly, Yes, a Myth: A Reply to Kirkup and Evans, 31 Human Rights Quarterly 239
(2009).
 wirtschaftliche, soziale und kulturelle rechte399

ist im 20. und 21. Jahrhundert in unregelmäßigen Abständen immer

wieder aufgebrochen und vermochte es, zahlreiche Verfassungen und
Entscheidungen von Verfassungsgerichten zu beeinflussen,5 so z.B.
während des kalten Krieges oder auch als der Welfare State weniger
attraktiv erschien und der Liberalismus von neuem modern war.6
Gleichwohl erweist sich diese Betrachtungsweise als zusehends
problematischer.
Fragwürdig und willkürlich erscheint nicht nur die substanzielle Dif-
ferenzierung – ist Bildung mehr sozial oder mehr zivil? – sondern auch
das Argument der Gewaltenteilung, welches auf die hohen Kosten der
sozialen Rechte anspielt, deren Finanzierung allein dem demokrati-
schen Gesetzgeber überlassen werden sollte. Man denke an die enor-
men Geldsummen, die das Recht auf einen fairen Prozess verschlingt.7
Im Übrigen ist es auch immer weniger umstritten, dass sowohl die zivi-
len wie die sozialen Rechte negative und positive Handlungen des Staa-
tes implizieren.
Bleibt der Einwand der Universalität: Soziale Rechte seien weni-
ger universal, da sie bestimmte Kategorien von Menschen beträfen:
Arbeiter, Familien, Kinder, kranke oder alte Personen. Daher sei es
angemessener, sie zum Gegenstand der Sozialpolitik oder christlicher
Nächstenliebe zu machen und sie höchstens als programmatische
Grundsätze, als politische Orientierungshilfen, als Staatsziele oder
jedenfalls als objektives Recht anzuerkennen, nicht jedoch als subjek-
tive gerichtlich durchsetzbare Rechte. Auch dieses Argument kann
bestritten werden, und zwar mit dem Hinweis auf die Konzeption der
Menschen- und Grundrechte, wie sie sich nach dem zweiten Weltkrieg
immer stärker durchgesetzt hat.8 Dieser Konzeption zufolge werden
Menschen nicht mehr nur als isolierte Individuen, sondern integ-
riert in verschiedene soziale Gruppen oder Rollen (Familien, Parteien,

5
C. Grewe/F. Benoît-Rohmer (Hrsg.), Les droits sociaux ou la démolition de quel-
ques poncifs (2003).
6
Siehe F. Hayek, Droit, législation et liberté, Bd. 3 (1980); L. Ferry/A. Renaut, Phi-
losophie politique, Bd. 3 (1985). Eine gemäßigtere Sicht bei R. Aron, Etudes politiques
(1972).
7
C. Tomuschat, Social Rights under the European Convention on Human Rights,
in: S. Breitenmoser et al. (Hrsg.), Human Rights, Democracy and the Rule of Law,
Liber amicorum Luzius Wildhaber, 837, 840 f. (2007).
8
C. Grewe, Les déclarations nationales de l’immédiat après-guerre, in: Commission
Nationale Consultative des Droits de l’Homme, La Déclaration universelle des droits
de l’homme (1948–1998), La Documentation française, 125 (1999); B. Maurer, Le prin-
cipe de respect de la dignité humaine et la Convention européenne des droits de
l’homme, La Documentation française, 45 (1999).
400 constance grewe

­ eligionen, Provinzen, Verbände, usw.) verstanden. Artikel 3 der

R
italienischen Verfassung ist für diese Entwicklung besonders
bezeichnend:
„Alle Staatsbürger haben die gleiche gesellschaftliche Würde und sind
vor dem Gesetz ohne Unterschied des Geschlechtes, der Rasse, der
Sprache, des Glaubens, der politischen Anschauungen, der persönlichen
und sozialen Verhältnisse gleich.
Es ist Aufgabe der Republik, die Hindernisse wirtschaftlicher und
sozialer Art zu beseitigen, die durch eine tatsächliche Einschränkung
der Freiheit und Gleichheit der Staatsbürger der vollen Entfaltung
der menschlichen Persönlichkeit und der wirksamen Teilnahme aller
Arbeiter an der politischen, wirtschaftlichen und sozialen Gestaltung des
Landes im Wege stehen.“
Wird hier die Menschenwürde als Grundlage aller staatlichen und
sozialen Ordnung gesehen und das Individuum als Mitglied der Gesell-
schaft betrachtet, so folgt daraus, dass auch soziale Rechte in der
Rechtsordnung einen Platz haben. Die in der unmittelbaren Nach-
kriegszeit entstandenen Verfassungen bezeugen dies, indem sie sich
ausdrücklich auf die Arbeits- und Wirtschaftswelt beziehen, auf Bil-
dung, soziale Sicherung oder eine bessere Lebensqualität. Diese
Anschauung dringt ebenfalls in die völkerrechtliche Ebene ein, wo
soziale Rechte insbesondere von der universellen Menschenrechtser-
klärung, dem Internationalen Pakt über wirtschaftliche, soziale und
kulturelle Rechte, dem Gründungsvertrag der Internationalen Arbeits-
organisation (ILO) und der europäischen Sozialcharta proklamiert
wurden. Später kam die EU-Charta der Grundrechte hinzu, so dass
auch auf dem Gebiet der wsk Rechte die Konkurrenz eines Mehrebe-
nenrechtsschutzes existiert.
Im Zeitalter der Globalisierung und der Verflechtung von Völker-
recht und innerstaatlichem Recht, könnte man zumindest an eine
Harmonisierung oder eine Artikulierung von Völker-, Europa- und
Verfassungsrecht denken. Hinsichtlich der sozialen Rechte ist jedoch
eine solche Entwicklung kaum zu beobachten. Seltsamerweise erscheint
hier das Völkerrecht weiter entwickelt und subtiler als das Europa- und
das Verfassungsrecht, auch wenn diese oft behaupten, weiter fortge-
schritten zu sein. Woran liegt dies Paradoxon? Womöglich daran,
dass einerseits das Völkerrecht, genauer der UN-Pakt über wirtschaft-
liche, soziale und kulturelle Rechte, bis heute keinen effizienten Schutz-
mechanismus besitzt, dass aber andererseits gerade in diesem Rahmen
die schärfste Begriffsbestimmung der staatlichen Verpflichtungen
stattgefunden hat. So erklärt sich vielleicht, dass diese völkerrechtliche
 wirtschaftliche, soziale und kulturelle rechte401

Errungenschaft bisher kaum in das europäische und das innerstaatli-

che Recht eingedrungen ist und auf diese Weise die wsk-Rechte noch
immer oft als sekundäre Grundrechte oder überhaupt nicht als Grund-
rechte betrachtet werden, weil sie einer anderen Kategorie von Men-
schenrechten als die der zivilen und politischen Rechte angehörten.
Dies möchte ich im vorliegenden Beitrag näher erläutern, während
der konkrete Inhalt und Umfang der wsk-Rechte nicht weiter vertieft
werden sollen.

B. Die wsk-Rechte im Völkerrecht

I. Der Inhalt des UN-Pakts über wirtschaftliche,

soziale und kulturelle Rechte
Wie im UN-Pakt über bürgerliche und politische Rechte werden die
wsk-Rechte ebenfalls unter das Banner der Menschenwürde und der
Selbstbestimmung der Völker gesetzt. Doch bereits in Artikel 2 sind
Unterschiede spürbar, wenn der Pakt von der progressiven Realisie-
rung9 der garantierten Rechte spricht. Diese Rechte betreffen das
Gleichheitsprinzip und die Nichtdiskriminierung, insbesondere im
Bereich von Arbeit, freier Gründung und Mitgliedschaft in einer
Gewerkschaft, von Streikrecht, sozialer Sicherung, sowie Sozialversi-
cherungen, Familien-, Mutter- und Kindesschutz, Lebensstandard und
Existenzminimum, Gesundheit und schließlich von Erziehung, Bil-
dung, Wissenschaft und Kunst. Stellt man diesen Katalog den durch-
schnittlich in Europa gewährten Rechten gegenüber,10 dann liegt der
Pakt leicht über dem europäischen Durchschnitt.
Doch hat diese Konvention von Anfang an gegenüber ihrer zivilen
und politischen Rivalin gelitten. Zunächst wegen der Aufteilung in
zwei unterschiedliche Verträge, später wegen der Erwähnung einer
nur progressiven Realisierung der Rechte11 und schließlich, weil ihr

    9
Riedel (Fn. 3), Rn. 7–10; M. Duchstein, Das internationale Benchmarkingverfah-
ren und seine Bedeutung für den gewerblichen Rechtsschutz, 9 ff. (2010).
10
C. Grewe, Les droits sociaux constitutionnels: propos comparatifs à l’aube de la
Charte des droits fondamentaux de l’Union européenne, 3–5 Revue universelle des
Droits de l’Homme 85, 86 (2000).
11
Art. II Abs. 1: „Jeder Vertragsstaat verpflichtet sich, einzeln und durch internati-
onale Zusammenarbeit, insbesondere wirtschaftlicher und technischer Art, unter
Ausschöpfung aller seiner Möglichkeiten Maßnahmen zu treffen, um nach und nach
mit allen geeigneten Mitteln, vor allem durch gesetzgeberische Maßnahmen, die volle
Verwirklichung der in diesem Pakt anerkannten Rechte zu erreichen.“
402 constance grewe

Kontrollmechanismus nicht wie bei den zivilen Rechten aus einem

besonders damit betrauten Ausschuss bestand, der außer der Kontrolle
der Staatenberichte auch Individualbeschwerden annehmen konnte.
Der für die wsk-Rechte zuständige Ausschuss wird in der Konvention
nicht erwähnt, er wurde durch den Wirtschafts- und Sozialrat der
UNO eingesetzt und die Möglichkeit einer Individualbeschwerde
wurde erst kürzlich durch ein fakultatives Zusatzprotokoll geschaffen,12
welches allerdings noch nicht in Kraft getreten ist.
Trotz dieser Hindernisse hat der seit 1987 bestehende Expertenaus-
schuss durch die nähere Bestimmung der Rechte und der staatlichen
Pflichten einen beträchtlichen Beitrag zur Interpretation des Pakts
geleistet. In seinen allgemeinen Kommentaren und den concluding
observations zu den Staatenberichten hat er klargestellt, dass die pro-
gressive Realisierung der Rechte nicht bedeutet, dass die Mitgliedsstaa-
ten den Pakt nicht sofort umzusetzen verpflichtet sind.13 Er hat
einerseits zu verstehen gegeben, dass jedes Recht einen unantastbaren
Kerngehalt14 besitzt, der sofort verwirklicht werden muss, und ande-
rerseits die staatlichen Pflichten so differenziert dargestellt, dass die
Behauptung, die wsk Rechte seien nicht justiziabel, unhaltbar erscheint.

II. Abgrenzung und Typologie der staatlichen Pflichten

Auf Anregung von Shuh15 und Eide16 hat der Ausschuss drei Grade der
staatlichen Pflichten unterschieden, die des Respekts (respect), des

12
Resolution A/RES/63/117 vom 10. Dezember 2008.
13
General Comments No. 3, E/1991/23; siehe auch Compilation of General Com-
ments and General Recommendations adopted by Human Rights Treaty Bodies:
12/05/2004, HRI/GEN/1/Rev.7 [im Folgenden General Comments].
14
Duchstein (Fn. 9), 13 ff.; J. Schneider, Die Justiziabilität der wirtschaftlichen, sozi-
alen und kulturellen Rechte, Deutsches Institut für Menschenrechte, 9, 27 (2004):
„Mittlerweile ist der Ausschuss jedoch von dem Ansatz abgerückt, nur bestimmte
Paktrechte als justiziabel zu behandeln und stattdessen dazu übergegangen, in jedem
einzelnen Recht justiziable Komponenten ausfindig zu machen. So definiert etwa
General Comment No. 14 über das Recht auf Gesundheit eine Reihe von Kernver-
pflichtungen der Staaten, deren Verletzungen von nationalen Gerichten überprüft wer-
den können. Entsprechend diesem umfassenden Ansatz hat sich der Ausschuss dafür
ausgesprochen, das geplante Individualbeschwerdeverfahren auf alle Paktrechte zu
erstrecken.“.
15
H. Shue, Basic Rights: Subsistence, Affluence and US Foreign Policy, Princeton
(1980).
16
A. Eide, The International Human Rights System, in: A. Eide/B. W. Eide/
S. Goonatilake/J. Gussow, Omawale (Hrsg.), Food as a Human Right, 152 (1984);
A. Eide, Report on the Right to Adequate Food as a Human Right (E/CN.4/Sub.2/
1987/23) (7. Juli 1987).
 wirtschaftliche, soziale und kulturelle rechte403

Schutzes (protect) und der Erfüllung (fulfil).17 Im Bereich der obliga-

tions to respect ist der Staat vor allem negativ gebunden und darf in
die garantierten Rechte nicht eingreifen. Dies gilt in erster Linie für
das Nicht-Diskriminierungsgebot, unter dessen Vorbehalt alle wsk
Rechte stehen.18 Die obligations to protect enthalten dagegen bereits
eine Dosis an positiven Pflichten, da sie darauf abstellen, dass der Staat
dazu verpflichtet ist, Eingriffe Dritter in die sozialen Rechte zu verhin-
dern. Solche Eingriffe können insbesondere durch gesetzliche oder
verwaltungsrechtliche Maßnahmen verboten werden, wobei die Drit-
ten auch privatrechtliche Personen sein können und damit der Pakt
eine gewisse Drittwirkung impliziert. Die obligations to fulfil bestehen
in der vollen Gewährleistung des fraglichen Rechts. Sie enthalten ihrer-
seits mehrere Steigerungen; so wird oft zwischen der Erleichterung
(facilitate), der Förderung (promote) und der Bereitstellung (provide)
unterschieden.19
Der Ausschuss nimmt hier eine Verlagerung der Analyse von Rech-
ten zu Pflichten vor. Statt in klassischer Weise die wsk Rechte als Rechte
auf etwas, als Leistungen20 zu definieren, zieht er es vor, die staatlichen
Verpflichtungen in den Vordergrund zu stellen. Dabei werden jedoch
nicht die einzelnen Bindungsgrade bestimmten Rechten zugeordnet,
z.B. wird nicht behauptet, das Recht auf Bildung beinhalte ausschließ-
lich eine Pflicht des dritten Grades (volle Gewährleistung), sondern es
wird sehr nuanciert festgehalten, dass jedem Recht Pflichten der drei
Arten entsprechen.21 Diese Kategorisierung ist umso interessanter als
sie es ermöglicht, dem Pakt sowohl Normativität als auch Justiziabilität
zu verleihen und dennoch auf die unterschiedlichen Ressourcen der
Mitgliedstaaten Rücksicht zu nehmen.
Nimmt man diese Analyse ernst, so wird klar, dass die wsk-Rechte
keine spezifische Kategorie von Menschenrechten bilden, sondern
dass sie, ebenso wie die zivilen Rechte, eine Vielfalt von staatlichen

17
General Comments No. 12 § 15; No. 13 § 46 f.; No. 14 §§3–37, in: Compilation
of General Comments and General Recommendations adopted by Human Rights Tre-
aty Bodies, Note by the Secretariat, HRI/GEN/1/Rev.9 (Vol. I), 27 May 2008; Riedel
(Fn. 3), Rn. 14–15.
18
Wolfrum (Fn. 2).
19
Näher Duchstein (Fn. 9), 34–47.
20
Statt vieler R. Alexy, Theorie der Grundrechte, 395 ff. (1985).; siehe auch
J. W. Nickel, How Human Rights Generate Duties to Protect and Provide, 15 Human
Rights Quarterly 77 (1993).
21
General Comments No. 13 § 46, HRI/GEN/1/Rev.7, 87.
404 constance grewe

Enthaltungen und Handlungen22 anordnen. Staatliche Handlungen

können wiederum in Erfolgs- und Verhaltenspflichten gegliedert wer-
den; letztere überlassen den Staaten einen bedeutsamen Gestaltungs-
spielraum, der die Flexibilität des Pakts besonders unterstreicht. Wie
wirkt sich nun diese so originelle Kombination von Universalität und
Relativität der Menschenrechte auf den Dialog zwischen dem Aus-
schuss und den Mitgliedstaaten aus?

III. Der Dialog zwischen dem wsk-Ausschuss und den

Mitgliedstaaten
Optimistisch hat sich Simma im Jahr 1994 zu diesen Auswirkungen
geäußert: „Den ‘General Comments’ kommt als solchen selbstver-
ständlich keine Rechtsverbindlichkeit zu. Doch ist zu hoffen, dass sie in
Zukunft in Folge ihrer Autorität bei der Auslegung und Anwendung
des Paktes auf der innerstaatlichen Ebene, wie auch im Verfahren der
Berichtsprüfung auf zwischenstaatlicher Ebene, doch eine Art Argu-
mentationsrahmen bilden werden, der letztendlich das Verständnis
der vertraglichen Rechtsbegriffe mitprägt.“23
Sieht man sich die Staatenberichte und die dazu gelieferten abschlie-
ßenden Bemerkungen (concluding observations) an,24 so stellt man
erstaunlicherweise fest, dass sich weder erstere noch letztere auf die
vom Ausschuss befürwortete Typologie stützen oder sie überhaupt nur
erwähnen. Die Staatenberichte stellen meist sehr ausführlich die
beschlossenen und geplanten Reformen im Bereich der substanziellen
Rechte dar; sie enthalten außerdem Antworten auf die in den voraus-
gehenden abschließenden Bemerkungen aufgeworfenen Fragen des
Ausschusses. Nach dem mündlichen Dialog mit diesem, werden in den
darauf folgenden concluding observations ähnliche oder neue sehr kon-
krete Fragen gestellt, die sich jedoch nicht auf die verschiedenen Grade
der staatlichen Pflichten beziehen.
Wie ist das zu erklären? Womöglich ist der gesamte Stil des
Prüfungsverfahrens, in dem dem Ausschuss mehr daran gelegen ist,

22
Pisillo Mazzeschi (Fn. 5), 231 f.
23
B. Simma, Einführung: Die wirtschaftlichen, sozialen und kulturellen Rechte –
Historischer Kontext und Probleme bei der Umsetzung, in: Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung,
Die Rolle der wirtschaftlichen und sozialen Menschenrechte im Kontext des UN-
Weltsozialgipfels, 9 (1995).
24
Bei der Prüfung dieser Berichte und hinsichtlich der innerstaatlichen Umsetzung
der Vertragspflichten (infra, C. II. 2.) habe ich mich hauptsächlich auf drei repräsenta-
tive Länder konzentriert: Deutschland, Frankreich und Spanien.
 wirtschaftliche, soziale und kulturelle rechte405

die Staaten zu einer Selbstreform anzureizen als sie wegen Vertragsver-

letzungen zu tadeln, ein gewichtiger Faktor.25 In dieser Beziehung
könnte die Einführung einer Individualbeschwerde, bei der viel deutli-
cher gesagt werden muss, ob eine Vertragsverletzung vorliegt oder
nicht, die Lage erheblich ändern.26 Ein anderer Grund für diesen Tat-
bestand könnten die vom Hohen Kommissariat für Menschenrechte
(OHCHR) ausgearbeiteten Indikatoren sein. Der entsprechende
Bericht beschreibt, wie die Indikatoren auf der Basis der wichtigsten
Charakteristiken jedes Rechts gebildet wurden und gibt dabei zu
bedenken: „A related issue is the extent to which the use of structural-
process-outcome indicators for each human right attribute reflects the
State obligations to respect, protect and fulfil human rights, and whether
the use of such a configuration of indicators in ‘unpackaging’ the nar-
rative on the normative content of a right is a better option than iden-
tifying indicators for the three obligations outlined in respect of each
right. There are at least two good reasons for choosing the former cate-
gories of indicators in the framework.“27 Diese guten Gründe liegen
einerseits an der Tatsache, dass die Indikatoren mit dem Inhalt der
Rechte verknüpft sind, sie insofern den Verbrauchern vertrauter sind
und andererseits daran, dass die verfügbaren Informationen wie z.B.
offizielle Statistiken sich im Allgemeinen nicht auf den normativen
Gehalt der Rechte beziehen und sich daher auf unterschiedliche Typen
staatlicher Pflichten beziehen können. Schließlich meint der Bericht,
die Indikatoren würden dazu beitragen, den Diskurs über Menschen-
rechte zu entmythologisieren und zu konkretisieren. Dieser Schluss
scheint mir zumindest diskutabel, wenn man bedenkt, wie stark die
innerstaatliche Debatte noch immer von ideologischen, auf die Rechte
bezogenen Argumentationen bestimmt ist28 und wie wichtig es in

25
Siehe P. Alston, Out of the Abyss: The Challenges Confronting the New U. N.
Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, 9 Human Rights Quarterly 332,
358 (1987).
26
 O. de Schutter, Le protocole facultatif au Pacte international relatif aux droits éco-
nomiques, sociaux et culturels, 11 (2005): „Le Comité des droits économiques, sociaux
et culturels a fourni suffisamment de précisions sur le contenu des obligations impo-
sées aux Etats parties au Pacte pour que ces obligations puissent être considérées
comme ‘justiciables’, c’est-à-dire pour qu’il soit possible au Comité de porter une app-
réciation motivée en droit sur l’allégation que contient une communication individu-
elle selon laquelle un Etat partie n’a pas respecté ces obligations.“.
27
Report on Indicators for Promoting and Monitoring the Implementation of
Human Rights, HRI/MC/2008/3 (6. Juni 2008), Rn. 9.
28
A. Belden-Fields/W.-D. Narr, Human Rights as a Holistic Concept, 14 Human
Rights Quarterly 1 (1992).
406 constance grewe

­diesem Zusammenhang gewesen wäre, den Akzent auf die Pflichten zu

legen.

C. Verfassungs- und europarechtliche Konzeptionen und

Ausgestaltungen der wsk-Rechte

Verfassungs- und Europarecht werden hier zusammen behandelt, weil

sie sowohl strukturell als auch inhaltlich einander recht ähnlich sind.
Beide Ebenen haben sich vor allem in der Nachkriegszeit, d.h. kurz vor
und während des kalten Krieges herausgebildet und entwickelt. Sie
sind noch heute von der genealogischen Ideologie und der Fokussie-
rung auf die Rechte geprägt. Dies mag im Hinblick auf die Grund-
rechte-Charta der EU verwundern, ist doch dieser Text erst 2000
verabschiedet und gerade als Überwindung der Generationenlehre
gefeiert worden.

I. Die grundsätzliche Ähnlichkeit von Verfassungsrecht und

Europarecht
1. Die Verfassungen
Die schlechtere Stellung der sozialen Rechte ist auf den ersten Blick
nicht immer offensichtlich, da sie sich auf recht unterschiedliche Weise
ausdrückt. Auf verfassungsrechtlicher Ebene unterscheiden sich die
europäischen Länder29 zunächst nach der Position und somit der Qua-
lifizierung der wsk-Rechte: Zuweilen sind sie im Grundrechtsteil ent-
halten, zuweilen werden sie zwischen den Grundrechten und den
verfassungsrechtlichen Prinzipien aufgeteilt und zuweilen gliedert die
Verfassung die Rechte in verschiedene Kategorien.30
Geht man von den 27 Mitgliedstaaten der EU aus, so zeigt sich, dass
wsk-Rechte im Grundrechtskatalog von 12 Staaten einen mehr oder
minder großen Platz einnehmen. Gleichwohl erscheint die These der
Gleichstellung von wsk- und Grundrechten dort problematisch, wo
die Grundrechte selbst keine privilegierte Stellung im Rechtssystem

29
J. Iliopoulos-Strangas, La protection des droits sociaux fondamentaux dans les
États membres de l’Union européenne (2000); J. Iliopoulos-Strangas, Soziale Grund-
rechte in Europa nach Lissabon (2010); siehe auch M.C.R. Craven, The Domestic
Application of the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, 40
Netherlands International Law Review 367 (1993).
30
Näher zu dieser Typologie: Grewe (Fn. 5), 67 ff.
 wirtschaftliche, soziale und kulturelle rechte407

einnehmen (Vereinigtes Königreich) oder sie so spärlich sind, dass

diese Assimilierung jeglicher Tragweite entbehrt (Dänemark, Öster-
reich, Zypern). Im Hinblick auf die übrigen acht Staaten bleibt zu prü-
fen, inwieweit die Identifizierung mit den Grundrechten tatsächlich
stattfindet. Soweit die betreffenden Rechte überwiegend durch eine
Unterlassung von Eingriffen erfüllt werden können (obligation to res-
pect), wie z.B. bei der Gründung von Gewerkschaften, von privaten
Schulen oder dem Streikrecht, findet man sowohl eine vollständige
Gleichstellung mit den Grundrechten in der Form einer unmittelbaren
Anwendbarkeit der verfassungsrechtlichen Bestimmungen (Belgien,
Lettland) als auch Zweideutigkeiten, wenn der Text, statt sich an
den Rechtsträger zu wenden, es dem Staat anordnet, das Recht zu
erfüllen (Finnland, Niederlande, Griechenland, Estland). Sobald die
staatlichen Pflichten diesen ersten Grad überschreiten, sei es um Ein-
griffe Dritter abzuwehren oder um Infrastrukturen oder Dienstleistun-
gen bereitzustellen (protect, fulfil), wird die Realisierung der Rechte
meist dem Gesetzgeber übertragen. Etwas großzügiger gehen die letti-
sche und die rumänische Verfassung mit den wsk-Rechten um, aber
auch dort findet man Verweise auf das Gesetz. Insofern kann man
wohl ohne Übertreibung sagen, dass in diesen Fällen die Assimilierung
mit den Grundrechten die tatsächliche Dualität der Rechte verbirgt
und dass eine explizite Aufteilung der Rechte wohl mehr Transparenz,
wenn auch kein Überwinden der traditionellen Haltung bringt.
Fünf Mitgliedstaaten der EU haben sich dafür entschlossen, einen
Teil der wsk-Rechte in die Rubrik der Verfassungsprinzipien aufzuneh-
men und einen anderen als Grundrechte zu bezeichnen. Zu dieser
Gruppe gehören Bulgarien, Deutschland, Malta und Ungarn. Zwar
enthält das deutsche Grundgesetz keinen explizit als Prinzipien
gekennzeichneten Abschnitt, doch darf man wohl die Staatszielbestim-
mung des Sozialstaats (Artikel 20) als Prinzip auffassen. Daneben sind
einige, eher wenige, Grundrechte zu nennen, die im Allgemeinen als
wsk-Rechte bezeichnet werden.31 Obwohl die Menschenwürde oft als
Grundlage auch für die wsk-Rechte herangezogen wird, gehört sie
nicht zu den sozialen Rechten stricto sensu, sondern dient eher deren
Auslegung. In den anderen erwähnten Ländern steht am Anfang der
Verfassung ein den allgemeinen Prinzipien gewidmeter Abschnitt,

31
Freiheit der Kunst, Wissenschaft und Lehre (Art. 5), Schutz der Ehe und der
Familie (Art. 6), Vereinigungsfreiheit (Art. 9), Berufsfreiheit (Art. 12) und Umwelt-
schutz (Art. 20a).
408 constance grewe

welcher wsk-Rechte im Allgemeinen als Staatszielbestimmung aner-

kennt;32 im Grundrechtsteil findet man dann meist soziale Abwehr-
rechte. In Ungarn, wo das Verfassungsgericht sich nicht gescheut hat,
die wsk-Rechte direkt anzuwenden,33 wurden jedoch die Kompetenzen
des Verfassungsgerichts hinsichtlich der staatlichen Haushaltsausga-
ben durch ein verfassungsänderndes Gesetz vom 16. November 2010
eingeschränkt.34
Zehn Mitgliedstaaten nehmen in ihrer Verfassung eine Klassifizie-
rung der Rechte vor, allerdings ist sogleich anzumerken, wie unter-
schiedlich die Tragweite dieser Gliederungen ist. Teils wird daraus
überhaupt kein ersichtlicher Schluss im Hinblick auf den rechtlichen
Status der betreffenden Rechte vorgenommen, teils werden aus der
Klassifizierung rechtliche Konsequenzen gezogen, die sich meist zum
Nachteil der wsk-Rechte auswirken.
Klassifikationen ohne rechtliche Wirkung findet man in den Verfas-
sungen von Frankreich, Italien, Litauen und Polen. In all diesen Texten
wird eine Gliederung der Rechte vorgenommen. In Italien und Litauen
ist dies eine ausführliche Typologie, welche die hergebrachte Generati-
onen-Unterscheidung vermeidet, während diese in den französischen
und polnischen Texten anklingt. Die polnische Verfassung unterschei-
det allgemeine Prinzipien im Bereich der Rechte, Freiheiten und
Pflichten, persönliche Rechte und Freiheiten, politische Rechte und
Freiheiten und schließlich wirtschaftliche, soziale und kulturelle Rechte
und Freiheiten. Sie schließt aber die direkte Bindung der in diesem Teil
aufgezählten Rechte nicht ausdrücklich aus. Die französische Präam-
bel von 1946 bekräftigt die Menschenrechtserklärung von 1789, der
sie politische, wirtschaftliche und soziale Grundsätze hinzufügt, wel-
che ihr zufolge heutzutage in besonderem Maße erforderlich sind,
ohne eine Hierarchie oder eine unterschiedliche Bindungswirkung
vorzusehen. In der litauischen und der italienischen Verfassung ist die
rechtliche Irrelevanz der Gliederung noch offensichtlicher.
Dagegen bewirken die Klassifizierungen der irischen, spani-
schen, portugiesischen, slowakischen, tschechischen und slowenischen
­Verfassungen einen unterschiedlichen Status der Rechte. Denjenigen,

32
So z.B. Kapitel 1, Artikel 2 der schwedischen Verfassung oder Artikel 21 der mal-
tesischen Verfassung.
33
R. Uitz/A. Sajo, A Case for enforceable constitutional Rights? Welfare Rights in
Hungarian Constitutional Jurisprudence, in: F. Coomans (Hrsg.), Justiciability of Eco-
nomic and Social Rights. Experiences from Domestic Systems, 97 (2006).
34
Verfügbar unter http://www.osw.waw.pl/en/publikacje/ceweekly/2010–11–17/
hungary-political-right-reduces-constitutional-court-s-competences.
 wirtschaftliche, soziale und kulturelle rechte409

die als wirtschaftlich, sozial und kulturell bezeichnet werden, wird

von all diesen Texten die unmittelbare Wirkung ausdrücklich versagt,
wobei zu erwähnen ist, dass einzelne wsk-Rechte gerade nicht zu die-
ser Kategorie gezählt, sondern als zivile Rechte behandelt werden. Hier
kommt der unscharfe und mehrdeutige Sprachgebrauch besonders
deutlich zum Ausdruck.
Abschließend ist also festzuhalten, dass anscheinend nur vier
europäische Verfassungen die wsk-Rechte als echte Grundrechte
betrachten. Sieht man sich allerdings die hierzu ergangene verfassungs­
richterliche Rechtsprechung an, so werden auch hier Unterschiede
sichtbar. Ein ähnliches Fazit ergibt sich für das europäische Recht.

2. Das Europarecht
Die europäische Sozialcharta,35 als Gegenstück zur EMRK verfasst, hat
ein ähnliches, vielleicht sogar ein noch unglücklicheres Schicksal
erfahren als der UN-Sozial-Pakt. Bis zur Verhandlung der revidierten
Fassung in den 1990er Jahren blieb sie praktisch unbekannt und unbe-
achtet.36 Die revidierte Fassung hat die Zahl der bindenden Rechte
erhöht und in ihrer Folge wurde das Kollektivbeschwerdeverfahren
eingeführt, welches der Charta ein gewisses Aufleben ermöglichte.
Wird die Charta oft für „fortschrittlicher„37 oder ehrgeiziger als der
UN-Pakt gehalten, so ist doch zu beachten, dass der für die Kontrolle
zuständige ESC-Ausschuss in seiner Rechtsprechung einen anderen
Weg gegangen ist als der UNO-wsk-Ausschuss. Legt jener in Anleh-
nung an den EGMR großen Wert auf die effektive und konkrete
Anwendung der Gesetzgebung im Bereich der akzeptierten Rechte
und zögert er nicht, den Mitgliedstaaten Vertragsverletzungen vorzu-
werfen,38 so hat er doch keine Anstrengungen unternommen, den

35
Am 18. Oktober 1961 in Turin angenommen, Zusatzprotokoll vom 9. November
1995 und revidierte Fassung vom 3. Mai 1996, die 1999 in Kraft getreten ist. Von den
47 Mitgliedsstaaten des Europarats haben 30 die revidierte Fassung ratifiziert, 13 die
Charta in ihrer Fassung von 1961 und 14 das Protokoll über die Kollektivbeschwerden,
verfügbar unter http://www.coe.int/T/DGHL/Monitoring/SocialCharter/.
36
S. Grévisse, La Charte sociale: Rapport introductif, in: J.-F. Akandji-Kombé/S.
Leclerc (Hrsg.), La Charte sociale européenne, 3 (2001); R. Brillat, La Charte sociale
européenne et le contrôle de son application, in: Aliprantis (Fn. 3), 37.
37
J.-F. Akandji-Kombé, Charte sociale européenne et pacte international sur les
droits économiques, sociaux et culturels, in: Aliprantis (Fn. 3), 219, 228.
38
Siehe die factssheets auf der website des Europarats, die die letzten allgemeinen
Erwägungen des Ausschusses für jedes Land zusammenfassen, verfügbar unter http://
www.coe.int/t/dghl/monitoring/socialcharter/CountryFactsheets/CountryTable_en
.asp.
410 constance grewe

­ ormativen Gehalt oder die Grade der staatlichen Pflichten genauer zu

n
definieren und so die Einwände gegen die mangelnde Justiziabilität der
Charta zu entkräften. Überhaupt sind im Ganzen gesehen die Verbin-
dungen und Einflüsse zwischen der Charta und dem Pakt sehr gering.
Insofern erscheint die Sozialcharta als typisch europäisches Produkt,
welches die Generationenlehre zwar durch mehr Effektivität, nicht
aber durch Gegenargumente zu überwinden bereit ist.
Obwohl die wsk-Rechte nicht in ihrem Mittelpunkt stehen, könnte
man die im Rahmen der EMRK ergangene Rechtsprechung39 in ähnli-
cher Weise kommentieren. Zwar gesteht der EGMR zu, dass die zivilen
und politischen Rechte soziale Auswirkungen oder Dimensionen ent-
falten können,40 ebenso hat er die negativen staatlichen Pflichten durch
zahlreiche positive Pflichten und horizontale Anwendungen berei-
chert, doch bleibt es bezeichnend, dass er es vorzieht, neue autonome
Termini einzuführen, statt von wsk-Rechten zu sprechen.
Was die EU betrifft, so enthält das Recht des Binnenmarkts gewisse
soziale Komponenten, unterstrichen und akzentuiert durch das
Nicht-Diskriminierungsgebot. Sie sind voll justiziabel und insofern
vielleicht effizienter als die europäischen Grundrechte, die in die
Charta aufgenommen wurden.41 Der Text der Grundrechtecharta
schließt eine ganze Reihe wichtiger Konferenzen und schwieriger Ver-
handlungen ab. In diesem Zusammenhang ist vor allem die Wiener
Konferenz über die Menschenrechte von 1993 zu erwähnen, wo die
Universalität, die Unteilbarkeit und die gegenseitige Verknüpfung der
Menschenrechte feierlich bekräftigt wurden. Doch ist es im Rahmen
der Charta nicht gelungen, dieses Ziel zu erreichen. Zwar soll einerseits
die traditionelle Zweiteilung in zivile und soziale Rechte überwunden
werden, was aus der Gliederung der Charta hervorzugehen scheint;
andererseits aber wird in den Abschnitten über die Solidarität und die
Gleichheit zwischen Regeln und Prinzipien unterschieden. Die Regeln
sind direkt anwendbar, während die Prinzipien es nur nach Maßgabe
der Gesetze oder des sekundären Unionsrechts sind, eine aus dem

39
J. Iliopulos-Strangas, Soziale Grundrechte, in: D. Merten/H.-J. Papier u.a. (Hrsg.),
Handbuch der Grundrechte in Deutschland und Europa, Band VI/1: Europäische
Grundrechte I, 299 (2010); Tomuschat (Fn. 7).
40
Siehe insbesondere EGMR, Airey v. Ireland, Urteil vom 9. Oktober 1979, Appl.
No. 6289/73.
41
F. Coomans, Some Introductory Remarks on the Justiciability of economic and
social Rights in a Comparative Constitutional Context, in: Coomans (Fn. 33), 12 f.
 wirtschaftliche, soziale und kulturelle rechte411

­ erfassungsrecht bereits bekannte und insofern nicht sehr innovative

V
Figur.

II. Die unvollkommene Umsetzung des Völkerrechts in Europa

Offensichtlich haben die general comments des wsk-Ausschusses in
Europa kein Echo gefunden. Die Frage ist nun, ob und inwieweit diese
Situation als vertragswidrig qualifiziert werden könnte. Die Antwort
auf diese Frage erfordert eine getrennte Behandlung des Europa- und
des Verfassungsrechts.

1. Das Europarecht
Dezentralisierung und Intersubjektivität stellen die klassischen Eigen-
heiten des Völkerrechts dar. Die vertikale Normenpyramide ist diesem
fremd, so dass regionales Gewohnheits- oder Vertragsrecht universelle
Normen derogieren können. Elemente der Vertikalität finden sich erst
neuerdings, z.B. im Hinblick auf die UNO-Charta, die Entscheidungen
des Sicherheitsrats im Bereich der Friedenssicherung oder des ius
cogens. Es wäre zwar möglich zu behaupten, dass die wsk-Rechte auch
in der Charta verankert sind oder besser, dass die universelle Men-
schenrechtserklärung Gewohnheitsrecht geworden ist, welches heut-
zutage den Rang von ius cogens innehat,42 doch sind dies Konstruktionen,
denen das geltende Recht weitgehend widerspricht,43 gerade weil dieses
von der hergebrachten Schwäche der wsk-Rechte ausgeht. Insofern
scheint es dem Europarecht noch immer weitgehend freizustehen,
anders zu verfahren als das universelle Völkerrecht, selbst wenn dieses
Ergebnis im Hinblick auf die Unteilbarkeit und die Interdependenz der
Menschenrechte nicht befriedigen kann.

2. Das Verfassungsrecht
Es ist ausgeschlossen, in diesem Rahmen ausführlich über jedes
Land zu berichten. Daher werden sich die folgenden Ausführungen

42
J. A. Frowein, Die Verpflichtungen erga omnes im Völkerrecht und ihre Durchset-
zung, in: R. Bernhardt/W. K. Geck/G. Jaenicke/H. Steinberger (Hrsg.), Völkerrecht als
Rechtsordnung, Festschrift für Hermann Mosler, 241, 243 (1983); K.-P. Sommermann,
Völkerrechtlich garantierte Menschenrechte als Maßstab der Verfassungskonkretisie-
rung – Die Menschenrechtsfreundlichkeit des Grundgesetzes –, Archiv des öffentli-
chen Rechts, 391, 407 (1989).
43
So im Hinblick auf die sozialen Rechte, Sommermann (Fn. 42), 419 f; siehe auch
Schneider (Fn. 14), 37–40.
412 constance grewe

einerseits auf einige allgemeine Aussagen und Hypothesen und ande-

rerseits auf eine kleine Auswahl von repräsentativen Ländern begren-
zen. Letztere sind Deutschland, Frankreich und Spanien. Deutschland
hängt hinsichtlich der Einführung völkerrechtlicher Verträge in das
innerstaatliche Recht der dualistischen Tradition an; die wsk-Rechte
gehören weitgehend zum objektiven Recht, während die zahlrei-
chen Grundrechte als subjektive Rechte aufgefasst werden und Gegen-
stand einer hochentwickelten Dogmatik sind. Frankreich dagegen
hat für seine Beziehungen zum Völkerrecht ein monistisches System
mit übergesetzlichem Rang der internationalen Normen gewählt,
es hat eine ganze Reihe von wsk-Rechten in der Verfassungspräam-
bel von 1946 verankert, ohne jedoch deren Klassifizierung eine rechtli-
che Wirkung zukommen zu lassen. Es besitzt allerdings weder eine
starke Tradition der Grundrechtsdogmatik noch derjenigen der Ver-
fassungsgerichtsbarkeit. In Spanien dominiert ebenfalls der Monis-
mus. Wie in Deutschland, aber anders als in Frankreich, nimmt die
Grundrechtsdogmatik eine wichtige Position ein; die verfassungs-
rechtlich anerkannten wsk-Rechte sind zwar noch zahlreicher als
in Frankreich, sie sind allerdings durch die in der Verfassung vorge-
nommene Klassifizierung nicht direkt anwendbar. Gleichzeitig gebie-
tet aber die Verfassung eine völkerrechtskonforme Auslegung der
Grundrechte.
In einer für alle europäischen Länder gültigen Weise kann man
zunächst allgemein festhalten, dass trotz wachsender Interde­pendenzen
zwischen Völkerrecht und innerstaatlichem Recht die Verfassungsau-
tonomie ein starkes Prinzip bleibt. So bestimmen die Verfassungen –
vorbehaltlich der internationalen Verantwortlichkeit des Staates – die
Beziehung zwischen innerstaatlichem und Völkerrecht, was zu
recht unterschiedlichen Umsetzungspflichten führt, die man heute
noch unter dem Nenner des Dualismus und des Monismus
zusammenfasst.44
Bezogen auf den UN-Sozialpakt und die hier im Fokus stehenden
Staaten bedeutet dies, dass die internationalen wsk-Rechte in Deutsch-
land durch ein einfaches Gesetz eingeführt und/oder umgesetzt wer-
den und folglich einen einfachgesetzlichen Rang einnehmen. Unter
dem Grundgesetz ist ein solcher Rang mit der Idee eines Grundrechts
unvereinbar. In Frankreich und Spanien dagegen wird der Vertrag

44
Coomans (Fn. 33), 7.
 wirtschaftliche, soziale und kulturelle rechte413

durch seine Veröffentlichung im Gesetzblatt anwendbar und nimmt

eine übergesetzliche Stellung ein, die jedoch in beiden Ländern als
infra-konstitutionell aufgefasst wird. Insofern sichert auch der Monis-
mus keine automatische Gleichstellung von internationalen und natio-
nalen Menschenrechten. Doch kommen beide Staaten diesem Ziel
näher: Spanien wegen des Gebots der völkerrechtskonformen Ausle-
gung und Frankreich aufgrund seiner wertungsneutralen Klassifizie-
rung. Erscheinen somit die Umsetzungs- und Beachtungspflichten für
Spanien und Frankreich größer als für Deutschland, so löst dies die
Frage noch nicht endgültig.
Aufgrund ihrer Verfassungsautonomie entscheiden die Staaten nicht
nur über ihre Beziehungen zum Völkerrecht, sondern auch über den
Inhalt ihrer Verfassungen.
Der Abschluss eines völkerrechtlichen Vertrags zwingt sie weder,
ihre Normenhierarchie zu ändern und beispielsweise wsk-Rechte in
der Verfassung zu verankern, noch diese Rechte als Grundrechte und
damit als subjektive Rechte anzuerkennen. Insofern ändert die vom
Ausschuss eingeführte Typologie zunächst nichts an der innerstaatli-
chen Situation.
Gleichwohl stellt sich die Frage, inwieweit die Staaten ihren Ver-
pflichtungen nachkommen können, wenn sie in ihrer Verfassung die
Nicht-Justiziabilität oder den kategorischen Unterschied zwischen
zivilen und politischen Rechten auf der einen Seite, den wirtschaftli-
chen, sozialen und kulturellen auf der anderen Seite gewissermaßen
festgeschrieben haben.45 Dies betrifft sowohl Deutschland als auch
Spanien, vor allem wenn man bedenkt, dass dem wsk-Ausschuss nach
gerichtliche Rechtsbehelfe zu den geeigneten Mitteln gehören, die wsk-
Rechte gemäß Artikel 2 Absatz 1 des Paktes geltend zu machen. Dies
aber stößt auf das verfassungsrechtliche Hindernis der ausdrücklichen
Weigerung, diese Rechte als subjektive Rechte anzusehen. Es ist zwei-
felhaft, ob eine völkerrechtskonforme Auslegung daran etwas ändern

45
General comment No. 9 § 3 (HRI/GEN/1/Rev.7) (s.o. Fn. 13): „Nevertheless, a
State party seeking to justify its failure to provide any domestic legal remedies for vio-
lations of economic, social and cultural rights would need to show either that such
remedies are not ‘appropriate means’ within the terms of article 2, paragraph 1, of the
International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights or that, in view of the
other means used, they are unnecessary. It will be difficult to show this and the Com-
mittee considers that, in many cases, the other means used could be rendered ineffec-
tive if they are not reinforced or complemented by judicial remedies“. Siehe auch
Schneider (Fn. 14), 25.
414 constance grewe

könnte.46 Hier scheint also die Grenze zwischen dem den Staaten vom
Völkerrecht zugestandenen Ermessen und der Vertragswidrigkeit
überschritten, auch wenn weder die Konstitutionalisierung noch die
Inkorporation oder die hohe Rangstellung internationaler Normen die
Einklagbarkeit der sozialen Rechte sichern. Diese verlangt außerdem
die richterliche Bereitschaft, diese Normen als self-executing und als
subjektive Rechte anzusehen.
Dieses Problem stellt sich in Frankreich, wo die Verfassung selbst es
nicht verbietet, die wsk-Rechte als Grundrechte zu behandeln und
ihnen eine subjektive Dimension zu geben. Jedoch weigern sich viele
Gerichte, die im Pakt begründeten Rechte als wirksam und direkt
anwendbar zu betrachten.47 In dieser Hinsicht spielt die Formulierung
des Pakts, die Tatsache, dass er sich an die Staaten richtet und sie ver-
pflichtet, die Rechte zu erfüllen, nicht aber unmittelbar dem Einzelnen
Rechte verbürgt, eine wichtige Rolle.48 Obwohl die allgemeinen Kom-
mentare des Ausschusses wertvolle Standards zur Ausübung der rich-
terlichen Kontrolle liefern, haben sie auch hier insoweit kein Echo
gefunden.
Es bleibt also festzuhalten, dass auf internationaler Ebene die
sozialen Rechte in jüngster Vergangenheit eine erhebliche Aufwertung
erfahren haben, wo sie zweifellos in die Kategorie der Menschen-
rechte gehören. Sind sie oder sollten sie deswegen auch Grundrechte
sein? Wird diese Frage in Südafrika oder auch in Südamerika eindeu-
tig bejaht,49 so ist die europäische Antwort noch immer von viel
Mehrdeutigkeit geprägt. Dies lässt sich sowohl analytisch-empirisch
als auch strukturell-normativ erklären. Einerseits kann man nämlich

46
So auch Sommermann (Fn. 42), 419 f.; C. Tomuschat, Der Verfassungsstaat im
Geflecht der internationalen Beziehungen, 36 Veröffentlichungen der Vereinigung der
Deutschen Staatsrechtslehrer 7, 45 ff. (1978).
47
Die Vielfalt und die Kontraste der französischen gerichtlichen Praxis sind
nunmehr auf einer website verfügbar, http://combatsdroitshomme.blog.lemonde
.fr/2009/04/06/la-justiciabilite-des-droits-sociaux-a-son-site-internet-droit-des
-pauvres-pauvre-droit/; siehe auch R. de Quenaudon, L’application par le juge français
des droits sociaux fondamentaux affirmés par l’OIT et l’ONU, in: Aliprantis (Fn. 3).
48
M. C. R. Craven, The Domestic Application of the International Covenant on
Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, 40 Netherlands International Law Review 367
(1993); siehe auch The Fundamentalisation of Social Rights, (Fn. 3).
49
D. Brand, Socio-Economic Rights and Courts in South-Africa: Justiciability on a
Sliding Scale, in: Coomans (Fn. 33), 207; C. Courtis, Socio-Economic Rights before the
Courts in Argentina, in: Coomans (Fn. 33), 309; R. Uprimny Yepes, Should Courts
Enforce Social Rights? The Experience of the Colombian Constitutional Court, in:
Coomans (Fn. 33), 355.
 wirtschaftliche, soziale und kulturelle rechte415

eine gewisse Entwicklung in Richtung auf einen wirksameren Schutz

der sozialen Rechte beobachten: manche Gerichte, vor allem in Mittel-
und Osteuropa, unternehmen den Versuch, wenigstens einigen wsk-
Rechten oder deren Kerngehalt eine direkte Anwendung – gleichwohl
über Umwege – zukommen zu lassen. Zu diesem Ziel wird meistens
eine rechtliche Grundlage gewählt, die keinen Zweifel über ihre Justizi-
abilität zulässt wie das Recht auf Leben oder ein sehr hochrangiges
Verfassungsprinzip wie der Rechtsstaat oder die Menschenwürde.
Andererseits scheint aber auch der Grundrechtsbegriff selbst in Europa
vielfältig zu sein. Geht man von einem formalen Kriterium aus, so sind
zweifellos die in der EU-Charta verankerten Rechte sowie diejenigen,
die in den nationalen Verfassungen als solche ausgewiesen werden,
Grundrechte. Betrachtet man jedoch den Inhalt oder die Struktur der
Rechte, dann erscheinen die wsk-Rechte in der Mehrzahl der Rechts-
ordnungen noch immer als unvollkommene Rechte, eben nicht als
echte Grundrechte.
 The Optional Protocol to the International
Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural
Rights–Towards a More Effective Implementation
of Social Rights?

Rainer Grote

A. Introduction

Economic, social and cultural rights have long been considered to form
a separate category of human rights the legal protection of which is in
important regards inferior to that enjoyed by civil and political rights.
This perceived dichotomy between economic and social rights and
civil and political rights finds its basis in the decision of the interna-
tional community, adopted at the height of the cold war, to create two
main instruments for the international protection of human rights, the
International Covenant on Civil an Political Rights (ICCPR) and the
International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights
(ICESCR) which, though some of their provisions are quite similar
(e.g. the common Article 1), have a number of important differences.
In particular, while Article 2 of the ICCPR defines the main obligation
of States Parties in straightforward terms as the obligation “to respect
and to ensure” to all individuals within their jurisdiction the rights rec-
ognized in the Covenant, the corresponding provision of the ICESCR
talks rather obliquely of the “progressive realization” of the rights guar-
anteed by the Covenant, a realization which is, in addition, expressly
recognized to be subject to the availability of resources (“to the maxi-
mum of its available resources”). The differences in the wording of the
relevant provisions have lent credence to the view that the obligations
imposed by the two Covenants are of a different character: obligations
of result in the case of the ICCPR and mere obligations of conduct in
the case of the ICESCR.1 But the differences between the two instru-
ments are not limited to the definition of the States Parties’ material

1
On this distinction see Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights,
General Comment No. 3: The nature of States parties’ obligations, para. 1, UN Doc.
E/1991/23, Annex III.
418 rainer grote

obligations; they also extend to the procedural level. Whereas the

ICCPR created a separate and independent body, the Human Rights
Committee, for monitoring the way in which States Parties fulfill their
obligations under the ICCPR and provided it with the competence,
subject to recognition by the States Parties, to examine communica-
tions by contracting states as well as by individuals concerning alleged
violations of the Covenant, the drafters of the Social Right Covenant
chose not to establish a separate treaty body and assigned the responsi-
bility for monitoring compliance with the ICESCR instead to the
Economic and Social Council (ECOSOC), a subsidiary body of the
General Assembly, which was given only the competence to receive
and examine periodic compliance reports submitted by the States
Parties, without any power to receive communications from States or
individuals.
If anything, the reluctance to put economic, social and cultural rights
on an equal footing with civil and political rights has been even more
marked at the regional (European) level. Although the drafters of the
European Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and
Fundamental Freedoms of 1950 perceived the Convention, according
to its Preamble, as an instrument to give effect through collective
enforcement to the rights recognized in the Universal Declaration
of Human Rights, they chose to include in the Convention none of the
various economic and social rights listed in that Declaration; only
the right to education (and the right to property) belatedly made it into
the First Protocol. For the rest, the protection of social and economic
rights was relegated to the European Social Charter, which was adopted
only in 1961. The main obligations under the Charter are even weaker
than under the ICESCR: the Contracting Parties accept as “the aim of
their policy” the “attainment of conditions in which the rights and
principles set out in the Charter may be effectively realized”. Moreover,
States Parties are not required to commit themselves to the realization
of all the rights contained in the Charter, but must name as “accepted
provisions” only five Articles, which they may freely choose from
among Articles 1 (right to work), 5 (right to organize), 6 (right to bar-
gain collectively), 12 (right to social security), 13 (right to social and
medical assistance), 16 (right to family) and 19 (rights of migrant
workers).
Even in the constitutional law of many non-communist countries
there was a strong tendency in the post-war period to view socio-
economic rights with caution and scepticism, if they were not rejected
 effective implementation of social rights419

right away. This sceptical attitude can be gleaned from the newly inde-
pendent countries of the Indian subcontinent whose approach to
socio-economic rights, following the Irish model,2 incorporated the
distinction between fundamental rights and directive principles of
state policy into their independence constitutions. This distinction is
primarily based on justiciability: while fundamental rights are made
justiciable, directive principles are non-enforceable in a court of law
and are thus exclusively dependent on the political branches of govern-
ment, i.e. the legislature and the executive, for their effective imple-
mentation. Whereas civil and political rights were easily recognized as
fundamental rights, economic, social and cultural rights were primar-
ily classified as directive principles of state policy, thus denying them
enforceability in the courts.3 This led the Indian Supreme Court, in a
first phase of its jurisprudence, to acknowledge expressly the inferior
legal position of the socio-economic rights referred to in Part IV of the
Indian Constitution, by claiming that the directive principles of state
policy “have to conform to and run as subsidiary to the chapter of fun-
damental rights”.4
Over the last two decades, however, the theory and practice of socio-
economic rights and the perception of their relationship with civil and
political rights have changed considerably. Numerous new constitu-
tions in Latin America, Asia, Africa and Eastern Europe have incorpo-
rated a wide range of economic, social, cultural and ecological rights,
and in some cases at least the newly established constitutional courts in
these countries have made a major effort to give practical effect to these
rights and to determine their scope more precisely. At the regional
level, heightened emphasis on the protection of socio-economic rights
has led to the adoption of additional human rights instruments (as in
the case of the Additional Protocol to the American Convention on
Human Rights in the Area of Economic, Social and Cultural Rights,
also known as “Protocol of San Salvador”) or the strengthening
of already existing ones (as with the Revised European Social Charter

2
See Arts. 40–44, 45 of the Constitution of the Republic of Ireland of 1937.
3
See Parts III and IV of the Indian Constitution of 1950. It has been said of the
directive principles of state policy in the Indian constitution that they contain a mix-
ture of social revolutionary, including classically socialist, and Hindu and Ghandian
provisions, such as the ban on cow slaughter: see G. Austen, Working a Democratic
Constitution–A History of the Indian Experience, at 8 (1999).
4
Supreme Court of India, State of Madras v. Champakam Dorairajan, All India
Reporter, 1951 Supreme Court 226.
420 rainer grote

of 1996). This process has also seen major change at the global level,
starting with the creation of an independent Committee on Economic,
Social and Cultural Rights under the ICESCR in 1985 and culminating
in the adoption of the Optional Protocol to the International Covenant
on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights on 10 December 2008.5
In the next section, the forces which have driven this process of
change will be analysed in greater detail. This process merits attention
not only with regard to the results it has produced in terms of a
strengthened mechanism for the effective protection of socio-
economic rights at the international level. It also provides a fascinating
insight into the complex interaction between international law and
national constitutional law in the field of human rights in the era of
globalization. In addition, the adoption of the new Protocol raises
important questions with regard to the methodology which will be
used in the examination of the merits of individual communications
and the wider implications this will have for the development of human
rights law in general.

B. The New Dynamics in the Protection of

Socio-Economic Rights since the 1990s

The 1990s witnessed major new developments in the field of stronger

legal protection of socio-economic rights. A first major step in this
direction was taken with the establishment of the Committee on
Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, which took over the task of
examining States parties’ reports under the Covenant from the
Economic and Social Council.6 The Committee not only developed
new procedures for the examination of the national reports, but also
started to issue General Comments on the nature and substance of the
provisions of the ICESCR, thus bringing the monitoring practice under
the Covenant into line with that of the other independent treaty bodies,
including the Committee on Civil and Political Rights.
In particular, the Council wasted no time in clarifying the legal
nature and content of the States parties’ obligations under Article 2 of

5
As of 23 October 2010, the Protocol had received 35 signatures and 3 ratifications
(Ecuador, Mongolia and Spain); it will enter into force three months after the deposit
of the tenth instrument of ratification (Article 18 of the Protocol).
6
Through ECOSOC Res. 1985/17, UN Doc. E/RES/1985/85 (1985).
 effective implementation of social rights421

the Covenant in its General Comment No. 3. It emphasized that the

Covenant, while acknowledging the constraints in the implementation
of socio-economic rights due to the limits of available resources and
therefore providing for their “progressive” and not their “immediate”
realization, also had a number of direct and clearly identifiable legal
effects. It pointed out that a number of provisions in the ICESCR,
including Articles 3, 7 (a) (i), 8, 10 (3), 13 (2)(a), (3) and (4) and 15 (3),
are capable of immediate application by judicial and other organs in
national legal systems.7 In addition, the fact that the ICESCR, unlike
the ICCPR, does not provide for an immediate obligation to respect
and ensure all of the relevant rights does not deprive the States parties’
obligations under Article 2 of the Covenant of all meaningful content.
For all its flexibility, the general obligation of States parties to realize
the protected socio-economic rights “progressively” imposes on the
States, in the Committee’s view, the duty to move as expeditiously
and effectively as possible towards that goal. Any deliberately retro-
gressive measure in this respect would be subject to the most stringent
standards of justification, by reference to the totality of the rights
provided for in the Covenant and in the context of the full use of the
maximum available resources.8 Moreover, the Committee introduced
the concept of “minimum core obligation”, understood as the obliga-
tion of the States parties to ensure the satisfaction of, at the very least,
minimum essential levels of each right in the Covenant, so that a State
in which individuals were deprived of the most essential foodstuffs or
basic health care or education services had to be considered prima
facie in violation of its obligations under the Covenant.9 Finally, the
Committee pointed out that the enjoyment of the rights guaranteed in
the Covenant is subject to the general principles of equality and non-
discrimination,10 an issue on which it dwelt at length in another General
Comment.11

    7
Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, General Comment No. 3:
The nature of States parties’ obligations, para. 5, UN Doc. E/1991/23, Annex III.
    8
Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, General Comment No. 3:
The nature of States parties’ obligations, para. 9, UN Doc. E/1991/23, Annex III.
    9
Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, General Comment No. 3:
The nature of States parties’ obligations, para. 10, UN Doc. E/1991/23, Annex III.
10
Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, General Comment No. 3:
The nature of States parties’ obligations, para. 1, UN Doc. E/1991/23, Annex III.
11
General Comment No. 20, Non-Discrimination in Economic, Social and Cultural
Rights, UN Doc. E/C.12/GC/20.
422 rainer grote

But the Committee not only elaborated on the nature and the scope
of States parties’ obligations under the Covenant. General Comment
No. 3 is also notable for the significance it attaches to national practice
in respect of the further development of the system. General Comment
No. 3 asks the States parties to inform it on national laws which create
any right of action on behalf of individuals or groups who feel that their
rights under the Covenant have been violated, and specifically requests
information on the extent to which social and economic rights have
been incorporated into national law and are considered to be justicia-
ble by the national courts.12 By specifically asking for information on
national judicial practice with regard to socio-economic rights, in par-
ticular with regard to the vexed issue of justiciability, the Committee
paved the way for the future refinement and strengthening of the inter-
national system in the light of the domestic practices developed in the
most progressive countries, an approach which later came to play a
central role in the elaboration of the Optional Protocol to the ICESCR.
The efforts of the Social Rights Committee to clarify the scope and
content of States parties’ obligations under the Covenant coincided
with a renewed interest in the effective protection of socio-economic
rights at the national level. Numerous countries in Latin America,
Africa, Asia and Eastern Europe which adopted new or reformed exist-
ing constitutions after the fall of communism and the end of military
dictatorship included more or less comprehensive catalogues of these
rights in their constitutional texts, often modelled upon the guarantees
contained in the Covenant. In earlier times the incorporation of such
rights often amounted to nothing more than a symbolical gesture or
political and ideological posturing. However, this latest round of con-
stitutional reform in numerous instances resulted in the establishment
of new constitutional courts with wide review powers, especially in the
field of fundamental rights protection, which were prepared to give
recognition and practical effect to the socio-economic rights contained
in the Constitution. A few examples may serve to highlight this new
trend in constitutional adjudication since the 1990s.
In Colombia, the Constitution of 1991 broadened the traditional
concept of statehood by moving beyond the classic aims of protecting
people and property to include social concerns and the protection
of social, economic and cultural fundamental rights. The very nature of

12
Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, General Comment No. 3:
The nature of States parties’ obligations, para. 6, UN Doc. E/1991/23, Annex III.
 effective implementation of social rights423

the Colombian state was transformed by defining its structure as that

of an Estado Social de Derecho instead of that of a mere Estado de
Derecho, as the previous Constitution had done. At the same time, the
Constituent Assembly gave the ordinary courts the power, through the
creation of the writ of tutela, to protect constitutional rights, including
socio-economic rights, in concrete cases, and created the Constitutional
Court as the head of the constitutional jurisdiction, with the power to
review tutela decisions issued by the ordinary courts, including the
Supreme Court and the Council of State.
The Columbian Constitutional Court has used these powers to
increase the protection of constitutionally protected social rights,
which account for almost half of the tutela actions brought before it.13
It has done so by stressing the intimate link between certain social
rights and other fundamental rights, i.e. by ruling that social or eco-
nomic rights may be protected by means of tutela whenever such pro-
tection is necessary to protect another fundamental right which is
directly linked to them (e.g. the protection of the right to health is
viewed as a necessary corollary of the protection of the rights to life,
integrity and dignity).14 But it has also been prepared to move beyond
this indirect protection and to acknowledge that social, economic and
cultural rights can stand on their own because they are themselves of a
fundamental character. On this basis the Court has found a number of
structural features of the Colombian health system to be incompatible
with the right to health and ordered a number of adjustments with a
view to extending basic health care coverage and ensuring universal
access to the system.15 It has also recognized children’s social rights, like
the right to adequate nutrition and the right to elementary education,
as “independent” rights.16 Moreover, the Court has consistently upheld
the existence of a right to minimum subsistence conditions (mínimo
vital) which it derives from the constitutional rights to life, health,
work and social security. The main purpose of this right is to grant
people who live in absolute poverty a right to special assistance by the
public authorities which allows them to fulfil their most basic needs

13
See M. J. Cepeda Espinosa, Constitutional Review in Columbia, in: R. Grote /
J. Woischnik (eds.), Constititional courts in new democracies (forthcoming).
14
E.g., decisions T-534 of 1992 and T-123 of 1999. These decisions and the other
judgments by the Colombian Constitutional Court quoted in the footnotes below are
available at http://www.corteconstitucional.gov.co/relatoria.
15
Decision T-760 of 2008.
16
Decision SU-225 of 1998.
424 rainer grote

and thus to preserve their essential human dignity. It is thus designed

to benefit the most vulnerable groups and individuals, those living in
conditions of discrimination and marginalization in a society histori-
cally beset by inequality and injustice.17
In some countries the social and economic rights which had lain
rather dormant in the Constitution in the past have received renewed
judicial scrutiny and attention in recent years. This is the case notably
in India. As was mentioned in the Introduction, the directive princi-
ples of the Indian Constitution concerning social and economic rights
had been given rather short shrift by the Indian Supreme Court in the
first phase of its jurisprudence, when it affirmed that the directive prin-
ciples of social policy have to conform to and to run as subsidiary to
the chapter of fundamental rights in the Indian Constitution. This nar-
row reading later gave way to a more constructive approach by the
Court, based on the recognition that what is fundamental in the gov-
ernance of the country can be no less significant than that which is
fundamental in the interest of an individual, and that therefore funda-
mental rights and the directive principles of state policy are comple-
mentary.18 The Court, which had already begun to use the directive
principles in the interpretation of social welfare legislation,19 now
expressly elevated them to the status of inalienable fundamental
rights.20 The last vestiges of a categorical distinction between the two
sets of guarantees were discarded when the Indian Supreme Court
started to read various socio-economic rights referred to in the direc-
tive principles into Part III of the Constitution. The Court did so by
interpreting the meaning of the right to life in Article 21 of the
Constitution as encompassing the right to life with human dignity.21
From there it was only a small step to inferring from the right to life the
right to the bare necessities of life, such as adequate nutrition, clothing,
shelter, facilities for reading, writing and expressing oneself in diverse
forms, freely moving around and commingling with fellow human

17
Decisions T-426 of 1992 and T-606 of 1999.
18
Keshvanand Bharti v. State of Kerala, 4 Supreme Court Cases 225, at 879 (1973).
19
Crown Aluminium Works v. The Workmen, All India Reporter, 1958 Supreme
Court 30; Express Newspaper Ltd v. Union of India, All India Reporter, 1958 Supreme
Court 578.
20
Air India Statutory Corporation v. United Labour Union, All India Reporter, 1997
Supreme Court 645.
21
Olga Tellis v. Bombay Municipal Corporation, All India Reporter, 1986 Supreme
Court 180.
 effective implementation of social rights425

beings.22 In a similar vein, the right to free and compulsory education

up to the age of 14 was incorporated into the right to life and liberty,23
and the objective of equal pay for equal work read into Articles 14 and
16 of the Indian Constitution.24
The Indian Supreme Court nowadays expressly recognizes the right
to social and economic justice as a fundamental right.25 On this basis,
it has started to address detailed orders on social welfare policies to the
executive if in its view the circumstances so require. This has led the
Court to order priority food aid to those groups of the population who
are most in danger of starvation26 and to ask state governments to pro-
vide cooked mid-day meals for all children in government and govern-
ment-assisted schools, among other things.27
Perhaps the most important contribution to the rehabilitation of
fundamental rights in constitutional adjudication has come from the
Constitutional Court of South Africa. The longing for social justice
after the long era of apartheid was one of the defining characteristics of
the constitution-making process in South Africa. The Bill of Rights in
the South African Constitution of 1996 contains a number of socio-
economic rights, including the right of access to adequate housing
(section 26), the right of access to health care, food, water and social
security (section 27), and the right to education (section 29). In its
decision on the certification of the new Constitution of the Republic of
South Africa the Constitutional Court dealt with objections concern-
ing the alleged lack of justiciability of these rights and the separation-
of-powers issues their judicial enforcement might raise. While the
Court conceded that the adjudication of these rights may have budget-
ary implications, it noted that the enforcement of civil and political
rights often have such implications as well, and that the task of adjudi-
cating on socio-economic rights is not so different from the tasks
ordinarily conferred upon the courts by a bill of rights that it results
in a breach of the separation of powers. It also pointed out that the

22
Francis Coralie v. Union Territory of Delhi, All India Reporter, 1981 Supreme
Court 746.
23
J.P. Unnikrishnan v. State of AP, All India Reporter, 1993 Supreme Court 2178.
24
Randir Singh v. Union of India, All India Reporter, 1982 Supreme Court 879.
25
Sodan Singh v. NDMC (1989), 4 Supreme Court Cases 155.
26
PUCL v. Union of India (2001), 5 SCALE 303.
27
PUCL v. Union of India (2001), 7 SCALE 484.
426 rainer grote

socio-economic rights are, at least to some extent, justiciable, and that,

at a minimum, they can be protected against improper challenge.28
However, it was in a number of cases concerning the precise scope of
the constitutional guarantees on socio-economic rights that the South
African Constitutional Court laid the foundation for a fundamental
reappraisal of these rights which had repercussions far beyond South
Africa. This was not yet evident in the decision in the first major
case on social and economic rights which came before the Court,
Soobramoney v Minister of Health (KwaZulu-Natal). The Constitutional
Court dismissed the claim of the appellant, a man with chronic kidney
failure, for regular, life-prolonging dialysis treatment. It held that in
view of the wide discretion accorded to the competent state authorities
for the setting of budgetary priorities, the hospital which had denied
Mr. Soobramoney treatment was justified in drawing up guidelines for
determining the patients who would get treatment, as long as the rele-
vant decisions were rational and taken in good faith. This was found to
be the case with respect to the hospital’s guidelines which, because of
the lack of sufficient resources to treat all patients, reserved dialysis
treatment for those who were waiting for a kidney transplant, a trans-
plant for which the plaintiff, who also suffered from heart and cerebro-
vascular disease, did not qualify.29
This rather cautious approach by the Court in the interpretation and
application of socio-economic rights was significantly modified in the
next big decision on social and economic rights, Government of South
Africa v Grootboom. In this decision, which concerned the complaint
of a group of squatters against their eviction from a piece of privately
owned land they had occupied while waiting to be allocated low-cost
housing, the Constitutional Court reaffirmed its ruling on the justicia-
bility of social rights in the certification judgment and declared that the
only real question to be answered was how these rights could be
enforced in a given case. It then went on to examine whether the gov-
ernment’s housing programme met the obligations imposed upon the
state by section 26 of the South African Constitution, and concluded
that it failed to do so since it did not provide for any relief to those

28
Ex parte Chairperson of the Constitutional Assembly in re: Certification of the
Constitution of the Republic of South Africa, 1996, Case CCT 23/96, 1996 (4) SA 744
(CC).
29
Thiagraj Soobramoney v. Minister of Health (KwaZulu-Natal), Case CCT 32/97,
1998 (1) SA 765 (CC).
 effective implementation of social rights427

people who, like the plaintiffs, were in desperate need of access to hous-
ing. In reaching this conclusion, the Court applied the test of reasona-
bleness. It held that in order to meet this standard, the relevant
government programme must be coherent, comprehensive and capa-
ble of facilitating the realization of the right in question. In addition, it
must be balanced and sufficiently flexible to take into account short-,
medium- and long-term needs. It must also clearly allocate the respon-
sibilities between the different spheres of government and ensure that
the financial and human resources needed for the programme’s imple-
mentation are available. Lastly, the programme must be implemented
in a reasonable manner, which requires that it make provision for those
groups and individuals who are in need of immediate relief. It was on
this last account that the government’s housing programme was found
wanting because it failed to address the need for immediate ameliora-
tion of the housing situation of those living in acute crisis.30
By introducing the test of reasonableness as a means of measuring
the state’s compliance with its obligations imposed by the constitu-
tional provision dealing with social and economic standards, the South
African Constitutional Court decisively shifted the focus of the debate
from the traditional assumption of dichotomy of social and political
rights to the practically much more relevant methodological issues
raised by the implementation of socio-economic rights. In Minister of
Health v Treatment Action Campaign it applied the test of reasonable-
ness to assess the constitutionality of the government’s decision to limit
the availability of the anti-retroviral drug Nevirapine, which prevents
the transmission of HIV/AIDS from mother to child during birth and
which had been made available to the government by the producer free
of charge for a period of five years, to a number of research and training
sites, thus preventing the use of the drug in the huge majority of births
nation-wide. Not surprisingly, the Court concluded that by excluding
many of those most in need from access to the drug, as well as by the
failure to conceive a comprehensive and coordinated programme to
combat mother-to-child HIV/AIDS transmission, the government had
violated the positive obligations resulting from the right of access to
health services guaranteed in section 27.31

30
Government of the Republic of South Africa and others v. Irene Grootboom and oth-
ers, Case 11/00, 2001 (1) SA 46 (CC).
31
Minister of Health and Others v. Treatment Action Campaign and Others, Case
CCT 8/02, 2002 (10) BLCR 1033 (CC).
428 rainer grote

C. Drafting Process of the Optional Protocol

The experience at the national level with the adjudication of social and
economic rights proved crucial when the movement in favour of the
drafting of an Optional Protocol to the ICESCR gathered momentum
during the last decade. Already in 1992 the Social Rights Committee
had submitted an analytical paper to the Preparatory Committee of the
Vienna World Conference on Human Rights in which it argued that
the introduction of a system for the examination of individual cases
offered the only real hope that the international community would be
able to move towards the development of a significant body of jurispru-
dence in the field of socio-economic rights.32 In the following years the
Committee worked on a draft Optional Protocol which was submitted
to the Commission on Human Rights in 1997. The draft provided for
the creation of a mechanism for the examination by the Committee of
individual communications in cases where States parties had allegedly
violated their obligations under the Covenant.33 At the time, the draft
attracted only a limited number of responses from the governments to
which it was presented for comment, and most of those which did
bother to comment were largely supportive of the idea of an Optional
Protocol with an individual complaints mechanism. Among those gov-
ernments which adopted a rather cautious position on the issue, the
alleged lack of justiciability of socio-economic rights was quoted as a
major cause of concern.34
The issue of justiciability would come back to the fore when, at the
end of the consultation process, the Human Rights Commission at its
fifty-seventh session in 2001 discussed the question whether an open-
ended working group on the Optional Protocol should be created. The
states opposing the establishment of the working group argued that the
issue of the justiciability of economic, social and cultural rights was
far from resolved and the feasibility of an individual complaints

32
Towards an Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on Economic, Social
and Cultural Rights, UN Doc. A/CONF.157/PC/62/Add.5 (1993).
33
Draft Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on Economic, Social and
Cultural Rights, Note by the Secretary-General, UN Doc. E/CN.4/1997/105 (1996).
34
This was true particularly in the case of Germany which pointed out that fre-
quent lack of justiciability of social and economic rights threatened to render ineffec-
tive the complaints procedure, thus undermining the credibility of the procedure as
a whole: see Draft Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on Economic,
Social and Cultural Rights, Report of the Secretary-General, UN Doc. E/CN4/2000/49
(2000), at 5.
 effective implementation of social rights429

mechanism needed a lot more analysis and debate. However, they

could not prevent the appointment of an Independent Expert on the
Question of an Optional Protocol to the ICESCR and were able to delay
the establishment of an open-ended working-group for only a further
year. At its fifty-eight session, the Commission seized the opportunity
created by the absence of the United States, one of the most vocal oppo-
nents of an Optional Protocol, from the Commission for the first and
only time in its existence and took the decision to create a working
group to consider options regarding the development of an optional
protocol to the ICESCR, although the group would formally be set up
only in 2003.35 From the first discussions in the Working Group right
up to the final negotiations on the wording of the individual provisions
of the Optional Protocol, the question of the justiciability of economic,
social and cultural rights occupied a central role in the Group’s delib-
erations.36 While a number of delegations were of the view that the
particular character of economic, social and cultural rights made them
unfit for adjudication and therefore an individual complaints proce-
dure under the ICESCR would be inappropriate, other delegations
pointed to case law from national and regional courts as evidence that
socio-economic rights were already being successfully adjudicated on
and that these rights could therefore, in principle, also be subject to an
individual complaints procedure under the ICESCR.37 However, with
the third session of the Working Group in February 2006, the dynam-
ics of the discussion process shifted decisively, with the Latin American
and African groups and a number of European countries now con-
vinced that the critical mass of knowledge had been reached for the
drafting of an Optional Protocol by the Working Group.38 The newly

35
Question of the Realization in All Countries of the Economic, Social and
Cultural Rights Contained in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and in the
International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, and Study of Special
Problems which the Developing Countries Face in Their Efforts to Achieve these
Human Rights, UN Doc. E/CN.4/2002/200 (2002).
36
 For a detailed summary and analysis of the discussions in the Working Group
see C. de Albuquerque, Chronicle of an Announced Birth: The Coming into Life of
the Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural
Rights–The Missing Piece of the International Bill of Human Rights, 32 Human Rights
Quarterly 144, at 157–176 (2010).
37
Report of the Open-ended Working Group to Consider Options Regarding the
Elaboration of an Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on Economic,
Social and Cultural Rights on its First Session, UN Doc. E/CN.4/2004/44 (2004),
at 58–66.
38
Report of the Open-ended Working Group to Consider Options Regarding the
Elaboration of an Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on Economic,
430 rainer grote

created Human Rights Council which had come to replace the

Commission duly obliged, and during its first session in June 2006 not
only extended the mandate of the Working Group for two years but
also changed its object by directing the Working Group to develop an
optional protocol to the ICESCR. The Chairperson of the Working
Group submitted the first draft optional protocol on 23 April 2007. The
draft included provisions on individual as well as collective communi-
cations,39 and in Article 8 authorized the Social Rights Committee to
consider the merits of those communications by assessing “the reason-
ableness of the steps taken by the State Party, to the maximum of its
available resources, with a view to achieve progressively the full realiza-
tion of the rights recognized in the Covenant by all appropriate
means”.40
The proposed language in Article 8 (4) met with criticism by some
states which argued for a wording which would emphasize the right of
the States parties to decide freely on the economic and social policies
which would best serve the progressive realization of the protected
rights in view of their specific economic and fiscal conditions. They
suggested replacing the term “reasonableness” with the concept of
“unreasonableness” and including an express reference to the “broad
margin of appreciation” of States parties to determine the optimum use
of their resources in the language of Article 8 (4).41 Others proposals
aimed at introducing language which highlighted the freedom of states
to determine the appropriate policy measures and allocation of their
resources in accordance with their domestic priorities.42
However, these proposals proved unacceptable to the majority of the
Working Group. The wording of Article 8 (4) of the Optional Protocol
which was finally agreed upon was taken directly from the Grootboom

Social and Cultural Rights on its Third Session, UN Doc. E/CN.4/2006/47 (2006),
at 16.
39
Draft Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on Economic, Social and
Cultural Rights, UN Doc. A/HRC/6/WG.4/2 (2007), Annex I, Arts. 2 and 3.
40
Draft Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on Economic, Social and
Cultural Rights, UN Doc. A/HRC/6/WG.4/2 (2007), Annex I, Art. 8 (4).
41
Report of the Open-ended Working Group to Consider Options Regarding the
Elaboration of an Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on Economic,
Social and Cultural Rights on its Fourth Session, UN Doc. A/HRC/6/8 (2007), at 95.
42
Report of the Open-ended Working Group to Consider Options Regarding the
Elaboration of an Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on Economic,
Social and Cultural Rights on its Fifth Session, UN Doc. A/HRC/8/7 (2008), at 91.
 effective implementation of social rights431

decision of the South African Constitutional Court: “[w]hen examin-

ing communications under the present Protocol, the Committee shall
consider the reasonableness of the steps taken by the State Party in
accordance with part II of the Covenant. In doing so, the Committee
shall bear in mind that the State Party may adopt a range of possible
policy measures for the implementation of the rights set forth in the
Covenant.” The text recognizes that the Social Rights Committee is
competent to assess whether reasonable measures have been adopted
and whether they contribute to the realization of the rights guaranteed
by the Covenant or fail to do so. In undertaking this assessment, the
Committee will not be bound by any specific appreciation or policy
choice made by the State Party, although it must duly take into account
that there may and in fact often will be different legitimate policies
from which states can choose to implement the rights contained in the
Convention.43
The Working Group submitted the draft optional protocol to the
General Assembly’s Third Committee, which adopted the text by con-
sensus on 18 November 2008. Fittingly, the General Assembly adopted
the Protocol without a vote in a plenary session on 10 December 2008,
the sixtieth anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.
It was opened for signature at the UN Headquarters in New York on
24 September 2009.44

D. A New Balance between Civil and Political Rights

and Socio-Economic Rights?

The new Optional Protocol will almost certainly give new impetus to
the further development of economic, social and cultural rights once it
enters into force. The expected benefits of the Protocol will be reaped
in full, however, only if the Committee is able to use the individual
complaints mechanism in order to establish a coherent framework for
the interpretation and application of those rights which fully
acknowledges that all human rights are universal, indivisible and
interdependent, and therefore require a common methodology for
determining the scope and limits of the different rights.

43
C. de Albuquerque (note 36), at 175.
44
 For the regularly updated list of signatures and ratifications of the Protocol see the
treaty database of the United Nations, available at http://treaties.un.org.
432 rainer grote

This common methodology should be based on the recognition that

all fundamental rights, be they of a political or of a social character,
impose three main obligations on the States parties: the duty to respect,
the duty to protect, and the duty to fulfil.45 Although the scope of these
duties may vary from one right to another, they basically apply to all
human rights. There is thus no fundamental right which can be said a
priori to contain only negative obligations or to be limited to certain
elements of the positive obligations which may be derived from funda-
mental rights.
In particular, it is a myth that economic, social and cultural rights do
not impose any negative obligations on the States parties or that in
most cases the negative dimension of socio-economic rights is largely
irrelevant. This is evident in the case of certain rights which are guar-
anteed in almost identical terms in both Covenants, like the right to
form and to join trade unions (Article 22 ICCPR; Article 8 ICESCR).
State interference with the free exercise of these rights must in all cases
conform to the same standards, i.e. it must be prescribed by law and
must be necessary in a democratic society for the attainment of the
legitimate objectives defined by the relevant treaty provisions.
But the same principle must also apply to other social, economic and
cultural rights which have no direct equivalent in the ICCPR if the state
actively interferes with the exercise of these rights in a negative man-
ner, e.g. by restricting access to basic health care services (right to
health), by abolishing an existing statutory guarantee of free primary
education (right to education) or by cutting unemployment benefits or
pensions (right to social security). In all these cases, the State party
must be able to justify its interference with regard to the proportional-
ity requirements commonly applied in cases of the curtailment of fun-
damental rights, i.e. by showing that the measure in question serves a
legitimate and important purpose and does not go beyond what is
strictly necessary to achieve the stated objective. In these cases, the fact
that the measure has important budgetary implications neither per se
excludes its review by the courts nor automatically entails the modifi-
cation of the applicable standards of justification.
This important “negative” dimension of social and economic rights
has expressly been recognized by both the South African Constitutional

45
 M. Nowak, Introduction to the International Human Rights Regime, at 49–51
(2003); H. Steiner / P. Alston / R. Goodman, International Human Rights in Context,
at 187–189 (3rd ed. 2008).
 effective implementation of social rights433

Court and the Social Rights Committee. The South African Court
observed as early as in its First Certification Judgment that, at a very
minimum, the social and economic rights guaranteed by the South
African Constitution can be “negatively” protected from improper
invasion.46 The Committee, on the other hand, pointed out in its
Comment No. 3 that “any deliberately retrogressive measures”,
i.e. measures which deliberately reduce the level of realization of the
right already achieved–by private or by public efforts–would need to be
“fully justified” by reference to the totality of the rights provided for in
the Covenant and in the context of the full use of the maximum avail-
able resources.47 It is difficult to see how the necessary analysis whether
the measure is “fully” justified could be performed in any meaningful
way without having recourse to at least the core elements of the pro-
portionality analysis commonly applied in cases of alleged infringe-
ment of civil and political rights.48
Like civil and political rights, social, economic and cultural rights
impose a number of positive obligations on the States parties, namely
the duty to protect and the duty to fulfil. The duty to protect refers to
the obligation of States parties to protect the right in question against
potential infringement by private parties.49 It is widely admitted that
the scope of this duty varies according to the right concerned, and that
it is widest in cases in which the right to life, the right to physical integ-
rity or the freedom from torture is concerned.50 The duty to protect
normally leaves a substantial margin of discretion to the states in deter-
mining how best to safeguard the right concerned–e.g. whether to use
just private law sanctions or to have recourse to criminal prosecutions,
too–provided that the chosen measures or mechanisms are objectively
capable of providing the required protection.51
These principles are also applicable in the case of economic and
social rights. To the extent that education and health care services are
increasingly provided by privately run schools and health care organi-
sations, the duty to protect takes on the form of the duty properly to

46
Government of the Republic of South Africa and others v. Irene Grootboom and oth-
ers, Case 11/00, 2001 (1) SA 46 (CC), para. 78.
47
Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, General Comment No. 3:
The nature of States parties’ obligations, para. 9, UN Doc. E/1991/23, Annex III.
48
On the proportionality test see M. Nowak (note 45), at 59–61 (2003).
49
 H. Steiner / P. Alston / R. Goodman (note 45), at 188.
50
 M. Nowak (note 45), at 53.
51
Id.
434 rainer grote

regulate the provision of education and health services by private pro-

viders. This includes the obligation to make sure that nobody is
excluded from such services on arbitrary grounds and that a minimum
service is made available to everybody and particularly the groups
most in need.
Finally, human rights impose upon the States parties the duty to ful-
fil, i.e. the duty to provide the material resources which are needed for
the full enjoyment of the rights guaranteed. Sometimes it is argued that
this dimension sets the social and economic rights apart from the civil
and political rights which do not require the provision of material
resources by the State in order to allow for their meaningful exercise by
individuals. However, in this respect, as in regard to the other protec-
tive dimensions of fundamental rights mentioned above, the difference
between social and economic rights on the one hand and civil and
political rights on the other is one of degree, not of principle. There are
a number of civil and political rights which presuppose a complex
infrastructure properly run and financed by the state for their mean-
ingful exercise. E.g., the rights of access to the courts and to a fair trial
would be practically useless without the existence of a court system
with properly trained and paid judges maintained and financed by the
state. Similarly, the democratic rights of citizens cannot be exercised if
the state is unwilling to pay for the proper conduct of elections from
the operation of polling stations to the monitoring activities of elec-
toral commissions and courts.
It is only in relation to the duty to fulfil that the ICESCR creates spe-
cific standards for socio-economic rights which differ from those
applicable to civil and political rights. The former are to be realized
“progressively”, whereas the state has a duty to provide the means
needed for the effective implementation of the right to a fair trial or the
right to free elections without delay and in full. The South African
Constitutional Court has interpreted the reference to “progressive real-
ization” of economic and social rights in the South African Constitution,
which is clearly inspired by Article 2 of the ICESCR,52 as meaning that
the government measures taken for the implementation of the rights
concerned must pass the test of “reasonableness”. It has divided the test
of reasonableness into a number of subtests, two of which deal with the

52
 M. Trilsch, What’s the use of socio-economic rights in a constitution?–Taking
a look at the South African experience, 42 Verfassung und Recht in Übersee 552,
at 556 (2009).
 effective implementation of social rights435

adequate design of a programme–whether it is comprehensive and

coherent and whether it takes into account short-term as well as
medium- and long-term needs–while the third test relates to the
adequate allocation of resources and responsibilities and the fourth to
its implementation proper.53 As Article 8 (4) has deliberately taken its
language from the Grootboom decision of the South African Consti­
tutional Court (see above III.), it would seem that any analysis of the
reasonableness concept under the Optional Protocol has to start with a
careful consideration of the application the concept has received in the
jurisprudence of the South African Court.
However, it must be kept in mind that the reasonableness test is a
highly flexible tool for adjudication which, even more than the pro­
portionality test, depends for its clarification on the normative and
institutional context in which it is used. In the South African case,
this context is provided by the South African Constitution and the fun-
damental values of human dignity, good governance and social jus-
tice on which it is based.54 In the case of the ICESCR, the context is a
different one. The Covenant is an international treaty, not a national
constitution, and the values on which it is based are those enumer-
ated in the Preamble to the Covenant: the inherent dignity of the
human person, freedom from fear and want, justice and peace in
the world. However, while these values are similar enough to those
underlying the South African Constitution, the institutional context in
the case of the Covenant differs sharply from the South African one:
the Social Rights Committee is an independent treaty body with lim-
ited powers which are not at all comparable with the far-reaching
review powers of the South African Constitutional Court under the
South African Constitution. Even after the adoption of the Optional
Protocol it cannot reasonably be assumed that the States parties
want to surrender to the Committee their discretion in the choice of
health, education and welfare policies deemed to promote best the
ideal of social justice to an extent which is remotely comparable to
the measure of control accorded to the Constitutional Court over the
legislative and executive branches of government by the South African
Constitution. This would suggest a more cautious approach to the
application of the reasonableness test by the Committee, one which

53
Government of the Republic of South Africa and others v. Irene Grootboom and oth-
ers, Case 11/00, 2001 (1) SA 46 (CC), paras 40–44.
54
 M. Trilsch (note 52), at 566.
436 rainer grote

pays particular attention to the caveat in Article 8 (4) that there

will often be a range of appropriate policy measures for the implemen-
tation of the rights set out in the Covenant. One way to compensate
for this greater measure of self-restraint might be a renewed empha-
sis on the analysis of the “minimum core obligations” referred to by
the Committee in its Comment No. 3, which might yet be used as a
yardstick for measuring the proper exercise of the States parties’ discre-
tion in matters of social policy.55

E. Conclusion

The adoption of the Optional Protocol to the ICESCR provides a major

boost to the decade-long efforts in the UN human rights movement to
restore the balance between civil and political rights and economic,
social and cultural rights. However, if these efforts are to bear fruit,
further work on the proper methodology for interpreting and applying
socio-economic rights within the framework of general human rights
law doctrine is needed, an endeavour the successful conclusion of
which will finally give its full meaning to the idea that all human rights
are universal, independent and indivisible. The Social Rights Committee
and a number of national constitutional courts have made substantial
progress in the last two decades in developing just such a methodology.
The genesis of the Optional Protocol to the ICESCR thus provides a
timely reminder of the importance of the close interaction between
national and international law in the shaping of the human rights law
of the 21st century.

55
The South African Constitutional Court has deliberately refused to embrace the
concept of minimum core obligation, although it was urged to do so in both the
Grootboom and the Treatment Action Campaign case: see M. Trilsch (note 52), at 568.
This is all the more remarkable as section 39 of the South African Constitution
expressly obliges the courts to consider international law when they interpret the South
African Bill of Rights.
 Human Dignity–Basis of Human Rights

Eckart Klein

Rüdiger Wolfrum, for many years an outstanding member of the

Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination, has always
shown a specific interest in the theoretical and practical problems of
the effective protection of human rights on the universal and regional
levels. Thus I hope that the following reflections on human dignity as
the basis of human rights may be a welcome contribution to this liber
amicorum.

A. Approach

International human rights documents or treaties do not formulate a

right to human dignity as they do, e.g., concerning the right to life, the
right to liberty and security, the right to freedom of expression or the
right not to be discriminated against. However, all the documents and
conventions refer to human dignity in various ways, be it in their pre-
ambles or operative parts.
I mention only two instruments. The first paragraph of the Preamble
to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights speaks of “the inherent
dignity of all members of the human family”; another paragraph,
repeating the Preamble to the United Nations Charter, reaffirms “faith
in the dignity and worth of the human person”; and Article 1 of the
Declaration states that “all human beings are born free and equal in
dignity and rights”.1 The Preambles to both Covenants, too, express the
States parties’ recognition of the inherent dignity of all members of the
human family by adding that the equal and inalienable rights of those
members “derive from the inherent dignity of the human person”.2
There are many other examples of the inclusion of the term of human

1
J. Martenson, The Preamble of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and the
UN Human Rights Programme, in: A. Eide et al. (eds.), The Universal Declaration of
Human Rights: A Commentary, 17, at 19 (1993).
2
The same phrase is repeated in Article 10, para. 1, of the International Covenant
on Civil and Political Rights.
438 eckart klein

dignity or dignity of the human person in the texts of international

conventions.3
The evident relationship established by these documents and treaties
between human dignity and human rights is quite telling, but needs
further clarification. However, what we may immediately learn from a
first reading of the relevant texts is twofold. It reveals not only the rea-
son States have decided to protect human rights on the international
plane at all; it likewise indicates the reason human rights have been
connected with human dignity. Two world wars which have “brought
untold sorrow to mankind” (UN Charter Preamble) and “barbarous
acts”, like the holocaust, “which have outraged the conscience of man-
kind” (Preamble Universal Declaration) have prompted the conviction
that respect for human rights born out of the recognition of human
dignity may help to avoid a recurrence of such terrible events.4
What we, secondly, can also learn from the plain reading of the texts
is that all the references to human dignity do not offer any definition of
the term, do not explain the meaning and the content of human dignity
and the implications it may have. We also learn nothing about the pos-
sible sources of human dignity: Religion (man as image of God), stoic
philosophy, the nature of man, ethics, morals or the rationalism of the
enlightenment era5–the texts remain silent. Human dignity as referred
to in our documents and conventions is not deduced from any specific
religion, philosophy or anthropology, but is open for all possible deduc-
tions to the extent that they result in the recognition of the inherent
dignity of the human being.6 International human rights law does not
want to become and is not a priori dependent on a certain line of
reasoning. It is only the result that counts. For international law it is
sufficient that human dignity as a particular cultural achievement

3
E.g. Preamble to the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of
Racial Discrimination of 1965, para.1: “principles of the dignity and equality inherent
in all human beings”.
4
It is empirical experience that laid the ground for international human rights
protection. For the difficulties arising from such a perspective see K. Bayertz,
Menschenwürde, in: H. J. Sandkühler (ed.), Enzyklopädie Philosophie, Vol. 2, 1553,
at 1555 (2010).
5
 For these different perspectives see Y. Arieli, On the Necessary and Sufficient
Conditions for the Emergence of the Doctrine of the Dignity of Man and His Rights,
in: D. Kretzmer/E. Klein (eds.), The Concept of Human Dignity in Human Rights
Discourse, at 1 et seq. (2002).
6
N. Petersen, Human Dignity, International Protection, para. 9, in: R. Wolfrum
(ed.), The Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law, online edition (2007),
available at www.mpepil.com.
 human dignity–basis of human rights439

emerged from the horrible experience of what human beings are able
to do to other human beings, and thus is based on a kind of natural
morality which can be directly understood by believers and non-
believers, educated and uneducated people across the world. That is
what the Preamble to the Universal Declaration is saying: “barbarous
acts which have outraged the conscience of mankind”.
While the various possible religious or philosophical sources of
human dignity are neither indicated nor interpreted by the interna-
tional documents,7 the term to become legally meaningful must obtain
some contours.8 Otherwise a disturbingly ambiguous situation could
arise which might endanger rather than support respect for human
rights. We have therefore to consider the relationship between human
dignity and human rights more closely.9

B. Relationship between Human Dignity and Human Rights

I. Meaning of Human Dignity on the International Plane

What does or may human dignity mean at the international legal level?
A more thorough analysis of the relevant texts is informative.
The Universal Declaration (Preamble) marks human dignity together
with the rights of all members of the human family as the “foundation
of freedom, justice and peace in the world”. They have to be recognized,
not imparted, by States because freedom, justice and peace are gener-
ally acknowledged values which do not legally depend on the arbitrary
will of States. Human dignity and rights are attributed to “all mem-
bers of the human family”. This notion underlines the perception of
the unity of mankind,10 which is further stressed by Article 1 of the

7
The member of the Parliamentary Council which created the German Basic Law
in 1948–1949 and first President of the Federal Republic of Germany Theodor Heuss
spoke of human dignity as “a not interpreted thesis” (“nichtinterpretierte These”): See
K.-B. von Doemming / R. W. Füsslein / W. Matz, Entstehungsgeschichte der Artikel des
Grundgesetzes, in: G. Leibholz / H. von Mangoldt (eds.), Jahrbuch des Öffentlichen
Rechts der Gegenwart, 1, at 49 (1951).
8
Human dignity as a term used in legal documents is supposed to have a legal
meaning in itself, not merely to refer to undefined moral convictions.
9
 For the reasons given above I do not share the opinion of Richard Thoma that the
discussion of this relationship should be left to theologians and philosophers only: see
von Doemming / Füsslein / Matz (note 6), at 49.
10
Cf. K. Dicke, The Founding Function of Human Dignity in the Universal
Declaration of Human Rights, in: D. Kretzmer / E. Klein (eds.), The Concept of Human
Dignity in Human Rights Discourse, 111, at 114 (2002).
440 eckart klein

Universal Declaration which refers to human beings as “born free and

equal in dignity and rights”.11 If the Declaration’s Preamble reaffirms
faith in the dignity and worth of the human person, we can take from
this the affirmation of an intrinsic value which is meant no longer to be
disputed. Articles 22 and 23 (3) of the Declaration widen the perspec-
tive, entitling everyone to the realization of the economic, social and
cultural rights indispensable for his or her dignity and the free develop-
ment of the personality.
While we can clearly recognize the general importance which the
Universal Declaration (and, in fact, already the UN Charter) is attrib-
uting to human dignity for the establishment of a human rights regime
on the universal plane, we do not have a statement in these early instru-
ments that human rights derive from human dignity. We find such a
statement only later in the context of the two Covenants. It is true that
the Universal Declaration gave the starting signal for the elaboration of
legally binding human rights catalogues, but it did not itself establish
such a catalogue.12 The assertion that (all) human rights derive from
human dignity would probably have been too bold at the time, since it
was not certain that all the rights enshrined in the Declaration would
be transformed into legally binding rules. Actually, some rights have
never obtained this normative status.13 Thus only when the rights con-
tained in the two Covenants were known did their foundation on
human dignity in a legal sense become legally plausible.14

II. Systematic Conclusion from this Analysis

What can we conclude from this analysis? First, on the universal level
human dignity is not a discrete human right in itself. It has never been
formulated in the way human rights are usually framed. This does not
mean that such a step would not be possible. National human rights
catalogues have included human dignity as an individual, subjective

11
Emphasis by the author.
12
As a resolution of the UN General Assembly the Declaration had no legally bind-
ing force. In the meantime one may well argue that many articles of the Declaration
have developed into binding law because they were incorporated into treaties or
evolved into customary law, maybe even as peremptory rules of public international
law, or have become recognized as general principles of law. But this argument must be
proved in respect of each and every right.
13
E.g., the right to nationality and the right to property.
14
 See also the Preamble to the International Convention against Torture and Other
Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment of 1984.
 human dignity–basis of human rights441

right. The Basic Law of the Federal Republic of Germany presents a

telling and quite understandable example, if one remembers the disre-
gard and contempt for human rights in the Nazi period which “out-
raged the human conscience”.15 The Charter of Fundamental Rights of
the European Union contains a similar clause (Article 1). On the uni-
versal level, however, not even the attempt was made, at least to my
knowledge, to develop from the legal principle of “human dignity” a
self-standing right.
Second, one could think of qualifying human dignity as an umbrella
term for human rights. But we would gain nothing from this.16 We
would even run the risk of watering down the meaning of human dig-
nity by filling the notion with everything that is considered or claimed
to be a human right.17 It cannot be assumed that the great moral impe-
tus that gave life to the idea of implanting the term human dignity in
international human rights law could be consumed by merely giving it
a collective name, and not adding any specific aspects.
Third–and I clearly favour this meaning–human dignity in our con-
text is a foundational value.18 This is not equivalent to fertile ground
from which every arbitrary assertion of a human right can be drawn.
Human dignity rather implies a fundamental judgement of the intrin-
sic worth of human beings who need rights in order to be able to realize
or defend this worth.19 It is not easy to define the circle of rights neces-
sary for this purpose. One may discuss the issue from several points of
view. From the international legal perspective we should carefully

15
The question whether Article 1 Basic Law actually contains a subjective right has
been affirmatively answered by the Federal Constitutional Court (Official Collection of
Judgments, BVerfGE 1,332, at 343 (1952); BVerfGE 109, 133, at 149 (2004)), but is still
disputed in literature: see for references M. Herdegen, in: T. Maunz / G. Dürig (eds.),
Grundgesetz Kommentar, Article 1 Abs. 1, para. 26 (2005).
16
Cf. M. Düwell, Menschenwürde als Grundlage der Menschenrechte, in:
4 Zeitschrift für Menschenrechte 64, at 71 (2010).
17
 For the general problem see K. Doehring, Die undifferenzierte Berufung auf
Menschenrechte, in: U. Beyerlin et al. (eds.), Recht zwischen Umbruch und Bewahrung,
Festschrift für R. Bernhardt, at 355 (1995).
18
 For this term see A. Chaskalson, Human Dignity as a Constitutional Value, in:
D. Kretzmer / E. Klein (eds.), The Concept of Human Dignity in Human Rights
Discourse, 133, at 135 (2002). See further A. Gerwith, Human Dignity as the Basis of
Rights, in: M. J. Meyer / W. A. Parent (eds.), The Constitution of Rights. Human
Dignity and American Values, at 10–28 (1992); Petersen (note 6), para. 20.
19
In this sense one should understand the statement that human rights “derive from
human dignity”. I agree with Herdegen (note 15), at para. 18, that the material founda-
tion described is at least equivalent to Dworkin’s principle-rule model: see R. Dworkin,
Taking Rights Seriously, at 14 et seq. (1977).
442 eckart klein

ascertain that the evolution of rights considered to be necessary in this

respect will lead to their incorporation in one of the recognized sources
of public international law.20 I shall come back to this issue at the end of
this article. But if we are able to define such rights, as compiled for
example in the two Covenants, now ratified by 160 or more States, then
the value judgement made by the recognition of human dignity spreads
to these rights the interpretation of which must satisfy the require-
ments of their foundational value.

III. Need for Human Dignity as a Foundational Value

However, do we need this foundation at all? Might it not be sufficient
to have the human rights as such and the respective State obligations
flowing from them? The answer to this question brings us to the topic
of the relationship between moral and legal norms. I cannot go into
this problem in more detail.21 It must suffice here to state my conviction
that legal norms need moral underpinning; they must contain an ethi-
cal minimum22 in order to have, at least in the long run, the chance of
being followed and, if necessary, enforced.23 Usually moral convictions
are first, more often than not urging to be transformed into legal rules
in order to become generally acknowledged and enforceable. Of course,
not all moral rules are equally successful in this respect. On the other
hand, sometimes legal rules may arrive first and only slowly will the
conviction of their moral justification grow. Here the possible educa-
tive effect of law becomes visible.24 Whichever is first, the moral or the
legal norm, in many cases we may observe a reciprocal influence
having either a weakening or strengthening effect on both. Human dig-
nity, having been recognized at the international level as a moral
conviction in consequence of an almost incredible human and in fact
inhumane disaster, has not only laid the ground for the establishment

20
This does not impede the assertion of a moral claim for recognition as a (new)
human right in the legal sense.
21
Very elucidating on this topic is A. Fagan, Human Rights. Confronting Myths and
Misunderstandings, at 36–48 (2009).
22
 G. Jellinek, Die sozialethische Bedeutung von Recht, Unrecht und Strafe, at 45
(2nd ed. 1908).
23
 Of course we know that there exist completely immoral positive laws which may
lead to tragic conflicts with moral or ethical commitments (Antigone): see G. Radbruch,
Rechtsphilosophie, at 138 (5th ed. 1956). But these laws will not endure.
24
This is the chance of human rights education: see, e.g., C. Mahler / A. Mihr /
R. Toivanen (eds.), The United Nations Decade for Human Rights Education and the
Inclusion of National Minorities (2009).
 human dignity–basis of human rights443

of international legal human rights, but has itself won contours through
these rights. Human dignity, I dare say, has lost its purely moral nature
and has become a legal principle, too, well apt to produce legal effects.
The most important effects resulting from this finding will be addressed
in the next section of this paper.

C. Some Concrete Consequences

I. Individuals as Subjects of International Law

The first consequence I wish to draw from this development is that it
can no longer be maintained that individuals are generally not enabled
to be holders of rights and to claim their respect and protection against
States, even their own State, on the international plane.25 Human dig-
nity, as a moral and legal value, is necessarily rooted in the individual.
The crimes from which the international recognition of human dignity
originate were suffered by individuals, and all the persecutions, disre-
gard and contempt everywhere in the world, then and today, must be
suffered and borne by individuals. Human dignity has an evidently
individual related effect. This helps to explain why human rights are
not just objective State obligations, but also rights which can and
should be claimed and pursued by their individual holders.

II. No Exclusion from the Legal Community

A second consequence–and this is in some way only the other side of
the coin–is that it would be incompatible with human dignity to deprive
individuals or a group of individuals of their rights. In order to give
effect to human dignity individuals must be vested with effective rights.
Human dignity, it has been said, is a right to rights, or at least a princi-
ple which must be given effect to by attributing rights to individuals.26
Depriving a person of his or her rights means exclusion from the legal
community, outlawing in a very literal sense. Putting a person in such
a legal black hole, cutting him or her off from all chances of com­
municating with the outside, denying legal support and access to an

25
E. Klein, Menschenrechte zwischen Universalität und Universalisierung, in:
C. Böttigheimer / N. Fischer / M. Gerwing (eds.), Sein und Sollen des Menschen, 207,
at 210 (2009).
26
C. Enders, Die Menschenwürde in der Verfassungsordnung. Zur Dogmatik des
Art. 1 GG, at 501 et seq. (1997).
444 eckart klein

independent body competent to rule on the justification of the deten-

tion therefore violates human dignity which perceives the individual
not only in his private sphere but also in relation to others.27 Completely
to cut off all the societal ties of a person is probably one of the worst
kinds of discrimination. This is what is meant by the astonishingly
not well known Article 6 of the Universal Declaration and Article 16 of
the Covenant on Civil and Political Rights which read: “Everyone
has the right to recognition everywhere as a person before the
law.”28 Here human dignity has directly crystallized into a legal human
rights norm.

III. Human Dignity and Equality

Rightly–and this is a third consequence–human dignity has been called
the “fountainhead” from which the equal rights of man follow.29 I have
already alluded to the societal perspective of human dignity. Human
beings cannot be understood as isolated individuals; they do not live
like the Robinsons alone on a desert island. They live in community
with other individuals who may also claim human dignity for them-
selves. Human dignity therefore can only be correctly understood
if its meaning extends also to all the others, i.e. every human being.
Human dignity is a concept of “you and me”. The rights I hold are also
held by all other individuals. On a moral basis individuals are directly
obliged to respect the human dignity of others; but in order for it to
become legally effective States have to protect and ensure the human
dignity of everyone by passing laws obligating individuals to comply
with these commitments.30 Human dignity is the most convincing
argument that all individuals are equal before the law and must be
treated equally, for they are “born free and equal in dignity and rights”,
as Article 1 of the Universal Declaration states. Thus it is true that
human dignity is the fountainhead of equal rights and of the prohibi-
tion of discrimination.

27
An example is the treatment of so-called “illegitimate combatants” in Guantánamo
Bay by US forces.
28
The Human Rights Centre of the University of Potsdam in February 2010 organ-
ized a seminar on the topic “The human being as a person and a person before the
law“(“Der Mensch als Person und Rechtsperson”). The papers delivered on this occasion
will be published in the course of 2011.
29
Arieli (note 5), at 8.
30
E. Klein (ed.), The Duty to Protect and to Ensure Human Rights (2000).
 human dignity–basis of human rights445

IV. Human Dignity: Chance of a Self-determined Life

We may now draw a fourth important conclusion, connected with the
foregoing remarks. If human beings are born free in dignity, and human
dignity is recognized together with the human rights derived from it as
the “foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world” (Preamble
Universal Declaration), then human dignity obliges States to ensure
that the proclaimed individual state of freedom into which human
beings are born becomes a legal reality, by this serving at the same time
freedom, justice and peace in the world. Human dignity needs freedom
just as it needs equality. Freedom means to have or at least to have the
chance of a self-determined life, to be able to develop one’s own iden-
tity.31 Human dignity means to have perspectives, to see ways open and
not be barred from further evolution. Human dignity always means
hope.

V. Human Dignity as a Steering Principle for the

Application of Restrictions
These deliberations should not be misunderstood. Human dignity can-
not be equated with the freedom to carry out unrestrained, arbitrary or
hedonistic acts. As I have mentioned before, the individual is not sov-
ereign.32 Human beings live together in smaller or bigger communities.
Their ability to develop into self-determined people, to find their iden-
tity, is essentially dependent on the support of these communities.
Human dignity is not infringed when national laws provide for the
restriction of human rights in order to protect the rights of others or
overriding interests of society or the State. In fact, most human rights
guarantees enshrined in human rights treaties contain restriction or
limitation clauses for these reasons. But it is appropriate to add the
following.
The foundational value of human dignity helps us to understand
why States cannot use the restriction clauses at will. They have not only
to apply them in conformity with the purposes for which they are
established, but they must also apply them in such a way that the right

31
In this sense the German Federal Constitutional Court has held that life impris-
onment without at least a concrete and realistically attainable chance to regain one’s
liberty at some later point in time would violate Article 1 Basic Law; BVerfGE 45, 187,
at 245 (1977). See also Article 22 Universal Declaration: “free development of his
personality”.
32
Cf. BVerfGE 4, 7, at 15–16 (1954).
446 eckart klein

to be restricted does not become void in practice.33 Restrictions are

interferences with rights which have to be justified. They must not be
used to turn the exception into the rule.34 As the rights derive from
human dignity, this value is affected if the rights are restricted to the
point of general insignificance. Respect for human dignity presents
valuable orientation marks for the justifiability of human rights
restrictions.
Sometimes no justification for restrictions is permitted at all. Some
human rights and the corresponding State obligations are so closely
tied to the claim of human dignity to be a self-determined person that
any interference automatically results in a violation of the right. To this
category certainly belong torture, inhuman treatment or degradation,
because they are able to break the autonomous will of the individual, to
manipulate him or her, to let him deny his identity, to submit himself
to the will of others–and we all know that it is just for these reasons that
these means are applied.35
The death penalty may also and, according to my view, should be
assessed as being in conflict with the moral value contained in human
dignity, but I agree that this is disputed and disputable. Be that as it
may, certainly we cannot assert that a moral norm prohibiting capital
punishment, if there is any, has already been transformed into a legal
norm, at least at the universal level.36 Again, this does not mean that
States could arbitrarily use this penalty. Human dignity requires that
no innocent life must suffer, and therefore the execution of pregnant
women is prohibited.37 Human dignity also requires that individuals
should be punished only according to their personal guilt, and there-
fore juvenile offenders and the mentally ill must not be condemned to
death.38 Human dignity will be further affected if the death penalty is
used to punish more than the most serious of crimes.39 States will have

33
This actually is the very sense of Article 5, para.1, Covenant on Civil and Political
Rights.
34
Human Rights Committee, General Comment No. 27 (1999) on Article 12:
Freedom of Movement, para. 13; UN Doc. HRI/GEN/1/Rev.6 (2003), at 174.
35
 Of course one may ask what kinds of acts amount to torture, inhuman or degrad-
ing treatment. However, the lack of clear-cut definitions, well known in the legal
sphere, does not invalidate the principle, though it demands a very exact look at the
facts of the case at hand.
36
In the geographic area covered by the Council of Europe the moral and legal
norms on the prohibition of the death penalty today coincide.
37
Cf. Article 6, para. 5, Covenant on Civil and Political Rights.
38
Id.
39
Id., at para. 2.
 human dignity–basis of human rights447

a certain discretion in the determination of those crimes, but generally

they should be restricted to murder and homicide or similar offences
resulting in the previously accepted death of the victim.
Human dignity finally requires that any punishment, capital punish-
ment and all other penalties alike, must be carried out in a non-
degrading way and without causing avoidable pain. Flogging and
whipping are degrading40 (probably for the executor, too), and the
execution of the death penalty by cruel means, e.g. by gas or stoning,
cannot today be seen as being in conformity with the demands of
human dignity.
Referring in cases like those just discussed to different cultural tradi-
tions cannot lead to a different result. The reason for this is that life is
unique for all human beings wherever they live, and that pain and deg-
radation are felt and suffered everywhere in the same way. If we accept
the concept of human dignity we cannot make differences regarding
the condition humaine. I do not believe that people tortured or cruelly
executed somewhere in the world would maintain that their culture
would suffer from such prohibitions, nor would most other people
agree.
Of course this does not mean that the same habits and laws must
exist everywhere. Lifestyles are different and should remain so, and
there is no country which would deserve to be the relevant paradigm
for all the others. The formation of daily life, the shaping of its condi-
tions, economy, education, public health and to a great extent public
morals including sexuality are not meant to be treated alike every-
where. But even here the evolutionary potential of the individual must
be respected.

D. Universality of Human Rights

These remarks lead to the last point that I wish to tackle. This is the
issue of the universality of human rights, perhaps the most discussed
problem in the current human rights discourse.41

40
 See infra D.II. at note 50.
41
E. Klein, Universeller Menschenrechtsschutz–Realität oder Utopie?, 26
Europäische Grundrechte Zeitschrift, at 109–115 (1999); E. Riedel, Universality of
Human Rights and Cultural Pluralism, in: C. Starck (ed.), Constitutionalism,
Universalism and Democracy, at 25–52 (1999); C. Tomuschat, Human Rights. Between
Idealism and Realism, at 69–96 (2nd ed. 2008).
448 eckart klein

I. “Various Historical, Cultural and Religious Backgrounds”

If, as the Universal Declaration proclaims, “all human beings are born
free and equal in dignity and rights”, human dignity and rights cannot
but include an immanent claim for universal validity. Anything else
would establish distinctions between human beings, and this would be
a total contradiction in itself. In fact, there is no State which would, at
least openly, disagree. On the contrary, States have publicly and clearly
confirmed the principles of the universality and inseparability of
human rights.42 But it is likewise true that the Vienna World Conference
of 1993 as well as the 2005 World Summit Outcome states that “the
significance of national and regional particularities and various his-
torical, cultural and religious backgrounds” has to be borne in mind.43
This may become relevant for the interpretation of the human rights
provisions, less with regard to their substantive scope of protection
than to the terms of their restriction. At any rate, human dignity may
and must serve as a yardstick for this interpretative task. The conse-
quences drawn from the recognition of human dignity which I have
discussed must never be ignored. In this sense, and over and above the
examples I have already given, I would like to mention the obligation of
States to eradicate female genital mutilation, because this negatively
affects a self-determined sexual life, apart from the pain and serious
health problems it may cause.44 Cultural traditions would therefore not
suffice to justify a State’s abstention from acting to enforce the prohibi-
tion. It is correct to say that “historical, cultural and religious back-
grounds” always have to be taken into account when a violation of a
human right is argued. However, these backgrounds do not give carte-
blanche to such violation. They themselves must be carefully assessed
against the accepted legal obligations interpreted in the light of human
dignity. The mere assertion of African, Asian or western values is there-
fore not very helpful in this context, if they are meant to justify as such
non-compliance with human rights. Apart from this, a certain degree

42
Declaration of the Vienna World Conference on Human Rights on 25 June 1993,
para. 1; UN Doc. A/CONF.157/23 (1993).
43
Id., at para. 5; UN General Assembly Resolution on 2005 World Summit Outcome
of 16 September 2005, UN Doc. A/RES/60/1(2005), para.121.
44
 For this phenomenon see E. M. Kisaakye, Women, Culture and Human Rights:
Female Genital Mutilation, Polygamy and Bride Price, in: W. Benedek / E.M. Kisaakye
/ G. Oberleitner (eds.), Human Rights of Women, at 268–285 (2002); F. Banda, Women,
Law and Human Rights. An African Perspective, 207–225 (2005).
 human dignity–basis of human rights449

of suspicion should be maintained if these arguments are used.45 The

former President of Sri Lanka, Ms. Kumaratunga, once said that behind
such invocations “a multitude of sins” is hiding.46 The former UN
Secretary General Kofi Annan is reported to have said, “It was never
the people who complained of the universality of human rights, nor
did the people consider human rights as a Western or Northern impo-
sition. It was often their leaders who did so.”47 Although human rights
and human dignity are violated everywhere to a greater or lesser extent,
it is certainly true that dictatorships or regimes, where the free will of
the people is ignored, be it in the East or West, in the North or South,
particularly dislike and disrespect human rights. The reason for this is
quite obvious.

II. Human Dignity as the Balance Wheel in Human Rights Evolution

The history of human rights is a history of extension and evolution.
When human rights in the modern world were first proclaimed, it
seemed self-evident that women and slaves were not included. Only
over time did it become clear that this exclusion meant a fundamental
deviation from the basic idea of rights owned by humans. Today, the
exclusion of any human being of whatever origin and gender from the
circle of human rights holders would doubtless be assessed to be a vio-
lation of the basis of human rights, namely human dignity. History
shows further that human rights, or at least their understanding, are
evolving. It is in this sense that human rights courts and treaty bodies
which have to oversee the compliance of States with their commit-
ments speak of human rights treaties as “evolving instruments”.48 The
change of living conditions leads to new perspectives for the inter­
pretation of human rights, because otherwise the rights would no
longer be suited to protecting the values enshrined in them. The right

45
 See, e. g., G. Paul, Konzepte der Menschenwürde in der klassischen chinesischen
Philosophie, in: A. Siegetsleitner / N. Knoepffler (eds.), Menschenwürde im interkul-
turellen Dialog,at 67–89 (2005); G. Paul, Die Rede von asiatischen Werten und ihr
Einfluss auf die Interpretation der Menschenrechte, in: E. Klein / C. Menke (eds.),
Universalität–Schutzmechanismen–Diskriminierungsverbote, at 46 (2008).
46
Quoted from T. M. Franck, Is Personal Freedom a Western Value?, 91 AJIL 593,
at 627 (1997).
47
Available at http://www.org/cyberschoolbus/humanrights/resources/quotable
.asp.
48
ECHR, Tyrer v. United Kingdom, Judgment of 25 April 1978, Appl. No. 5856/72,
Series A No. 26, para. 31.
450 eckart klein

to privacy, e.g., is today endangered by completely new infringements

due to the rapid development of technology. Human rights interpreta-
tion has to react to these facts. The same is true regarding economic,
social and cultural rights. The widening technical possibilities of taking
part in everything that is happening around the world cannot leave
untouched the understanding of the right to be informed, to travel
and to leave one’s own country.49 Human dignity, as has been said,
means the development of one’s own personality, and this includes
participation.
It is more difficult when formerly deeply rooted moral convictions
begin to change. At what point in time has a particular behaviour to be
judged to be a violation of a given human right? Throughout the centu-
ries moral attitudes have undergone modifications, sometimes swiftly,
sometimes slowly. For example, for centuries torture was seen to be an
acceptable means of extracting confessions, and in quite a similar way
corporal punishment was officially recognized worldwide. Today such
a penalty is no longer in conformity with the human dignity princi-
ple.50 The death penalty is on the verge of this. There is a clear abolition-
ist tendency in human rights law51 but, as was said earlier, one cannot
yet come to the legally unmistakable conclusion that capital punish-
ment as such violates human dignity and is therefore incompatible
with the human rights idea in international law.
A last example concerns sexual behaviour. Homosexuality among
consenting adults has today to be recognized as an expression of a per-
son’s identity, and therefore punishment of such behaviour should no
longer be on the books. On the other hand, I do not think that it is a
violation of the right to marry (Article 23 (2) of the Covenant on Civil
and Political Rights) if States do not allow marriage between homo-
sexual couples.52 One day we may come to this point. We, from today’s

49
 See Article 12 Covenant on Civil and Political Rights.
50
Human Rights Committee, General Comment No. 7 (1982), para. 2, UN Doc.
HRI/GEN/1/Rev. 6 (2003); Human Rights Committee, Higginson v. Jamaica, Views of
28 March 2002, No. 792/98, para. 6, according to which not only the execution but
even the imposition of corporal punishment would breach Article 7 of the Covenant.
See further S. Joseph / J. Schultz / M. Castan, International Covenant on Civil and
Political Rights. Cases, Materials, and Commentary, at 248 (2nd ed. 2004).
51
Human Rights Committee, General Comment No. 6 (1982), para. 6, UN Doc.
HRI/GEN/1/Rev. 6 (2003); Human Rights Committee, Judge v. Canada, Views of 5
August 2002, No. 829/1998, para. 10.4.
52
Human Rights Committee, Joslin v. New Zealand, Views of 30 July 2002,
No.902/1999, para. 8.2; ECHR, Schalk and Kopf v. Austria, Judgment of 24 June 2010,
Appl. No. 30141/04, paras. 48–53.
 human dignity–basis of human rights451

legal point of view, cannot close the discussion and prevent the emer-
gence of new moral convictions which our children and grandchildren
may share. Every generation must find its own way. This is true for the
forming of moral convictions as well as for their transformation into
legal rules.
Two thoughts follow from this. First, human thinking and its capac-
ity to evolve must not be locked up. To imprison man’s reason affronts
his or her dignity. Not everything that is thought and expressed is a
valuable moral judgement, but on the other hand we have quite a few
examples in history that opinions were, for the time being, unani-
mously condemned, but later became generally recognized. We need
openness to new ideas and development. This has always been true, but
it is particularly true in our times of globalization, where the chance to
learn from each other is higher than ever before.
On the other hand–and this is the second thought–we should, at the
same time, be careful before we throw away convictions which were for
a long time the common basis for the life of a people. Openness and
carefulness are not contradictions. Only carefulness will lead to open-
ness. Human rights law is a very sensitive area. Going too fast may
become destructive. Nothing is more needed in human rights law than
modesty and patience, but at the same time firmness if the red line has
been crossed.

E. Conclusion

In this short article dedicated to Rüdiger Wolfrum I could not even

attempt to solve all the problems which one may encounter in the
human rights field on the basis of the recognition of human dignity.
In many respects, however, the foundational value of human dignity
will generate helpful orientation, and in some instances even present
cogent solutions. The moral and legal principle of human dignity
should be the basis for the necessary dialogue if new questions arise, as
for example in the area of medicine or biotechnology.53 Only a respon-
sible discussion which always tries to comprehend all facets of the

53
D. Beyleveld / R. Brownsword, Human Dignity in Bioethics and Biolaw (2001);
E. Klein, Der entschlüsselte Mensch–Die internationalen Rahmenbedingungen–in:
Bitburger Gespräche Jahrbuch 2002/II, at 81 et seq. (2003); S. Vöneky / R. Wolfrum
(eds.), Human Dignity and Human Cloning (2004).
452 eckart klein

problem including the demands of human dignity may at the end of

the day lead to convincing results.
History records innumerable deviations from humane behaviour.
Today we have taken a step forward. This does not mean that devia-
tions no longer happen. Any one of us could easily give many exam-
ples. But the transcultural recognition of human rights and their basis,
human dignity, has created the opportunity to find a way out of such
catastrophes. The fact that we have come at least to this point is a great
common achievement to which many people from all over the world,
from all regions and cultures, have contributed, very many even by sac-
rificing their lives. To all of them we owe gratitude.
 International Human Rights Law and
Transnational Corporations: Responsibilities
and Cooperation

Robert McCorquodale*

A. Introduction

“[T]he goal of maintaining a secure operating environment [for transna-

tional companies] is compatible with the goal of protecting human rights
[…] by supporting the rule of law, incorporating human rights into secu-
rity arrangements, and working with NGOs, transnational companies
can greatly strengthen and enrich the human rights environment in
which they operate.”1
“Governments should not assume they are helping business by failing to
provide adequate guidance for, or regulation of, the human rights impact
of corporate activities. On the contrary, the less governments do, the
more they increase reputational and other risks to business.”2
There have been a number of attempts at the national, regional and
international levels to deal with the impacts on human rights of cor­
porate activity through legal regulation.3 Most have not succeeded,
largely through lack of political will by states or through strong resist-
ance by corporations. At the same time, the perception of most of civil

* This is a revised and updated version of R. McCorquodale, Corporate Social

Responsibility and International Human Rights Law, 87 Journal of Business Ethics
385–400 (2009), with the kind permission of Springer Science+Business Media B.V.
1
Statement by Harold Koh, then US Assistant Secretary for Democracy, Human
Rights and Labour, as quoted in S. Murphy, Voluntary Human Rights Principles for
Extractive and Energy Companies, 95 American Journal of International Law 636,
at 637 (2001).
2
Report to the United Nations Human Rights Council (HRC) of the Special
Representative of the Secretary-General on the Issue of Human Rights and
Transnational Corporations and Other Business Enterprises [hereinafter Ruggie
Report 2008] of 7 April 2008, para. 22, UN Doc. A/HRC/8/5.
3
See, for example, Norms on the Responsibilities of Transnational Corporations
and Other Business Enterprises with Regard to Human Rights, UN Doc. E/CN.4/
Sub.2/2003/12/Rev.2 (2003); and The OECD Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises,
OECD Declaration and Decisions on International Investment and Multinational
Enterprises: Basic Texts (DAFFE/IME, 2000).
454 robert mccorquodale

society is that corporations do not care about human rights. Yet, as the
two quotations above show, it can be in the interests of all participants
for corporations to uphold human rights and to work within a clear
legal framework. To do this requires clarity of the relevant responsi­
bilities and effective cooperation. Therefore, these issues are appropri-
ately encompassed within the broad themes of this book in honour of
Professor Rüdiger Wolfrum.4
This matter has taken a considerable step forward due to the activi-
ties of Professor John Ruggie since he was appointed the Special
Representative of the Secretary-General of the United Nations on the
Issue of Human Rights and Transnational Corporations and Other
Business Enterprises.5 He has created a framework, based on an
approach of “principled pragmatism”6 for dealing with the core issues
that has been supported by a wide range of states, corporations and
non-governmental organisations.7 This has given the issue some essen-
tial space to enable cooperation to be fostered.
The Ruggie framework has three elements (or “pillars”): the state’s
duty to protect against human rights abuses by corporations; the cor-
porate responsibility to respect human rights; and the need for more
effective access to remedies. The justification for this framework is
stated to be:
“[There is] the State duty to protect because it lies at the very core of
the international human rights regime; the corporate responsibility
to respect because it is the basic expectation society has of business;
and access to remedy, because even the most concerted efforts can-
not prevent all abuse…. The three principles form a complementary
whole in that each supports the others in achieving sustainable
progress.”8

4
I have deep respect and admiration for Prof Rüdiger Wolfrum.
5
The original mandate was given by the UN Commission on Human Rights
(now the UN Human Rights Council) by Resolution 2005/69 of 20 April 2005, UN
Doc. E/CN.4/2005/L.10/Add.17.
6
Ruggie Report 2008 (note 2), para. 3: “principled pragmatism” is “an unflinching
commitment to the principle of strengthening the promotion and protection of human
rights as it relates to business, coupled with a pragmatic attachment to what works best
in creating change where it matters most-in the daily lives of people”.
7
See the portal created by the Special Representative on the Business and Human
Rights Resource Centre website, available at http://www.business-humanrights.org/
Gettingstarted/UNSpecialRepresentative.
8
Ruggie Report 2008 (note 2), para. 9.
 international human rights law455

Ruggie has also produced two other reports that seek to “operational-
ize”9 this framework.10
There are some criticisms of this framework, which I will not discuss
here as this framework has now been adopted by the UN Human Rights
Council as a way forward.11 Rather, I will examine each of the pillars of
the Ruggie framework.

B. State’s Duty to Protect Human Rights

Under international human rights law, each state has a duty, or legal
obligation, to protect against human rights abuses. The obligation on
a state to protect human rights includes an obligation to protect
against abuses by state officials. It also includes an obligation to pro-
tect against actions by non-state actors (such as corporations) within
its territory that violate human rights. In relation to the activities of
corporations, states have been found by the human rights treaty bodies
to be in breach of their obligations where, for example, employees of
corporations have been dismissed or victimized for joining a trade
union,12 the activities of corporations have polluted air and land,13 and
where there have been failures by the state to protect indigenous peo-
ples’ land from harm caused by corporate activities or from corporate

9
United Nations Human Rights Council, in extending the mandate of the Special
Representative, stated that it “recognizes the need to operationalize this framework”,
HRC Resolution 8/7 (2008), Preamble.
10
Ruggie Report 2009–Report to the Human Rights Council by the Special
Representative of the Secretary-General on the issue of human rights and transna-
tional corporations and other business enterprises, 22 April 2009, UN Doc.
A/HRC/11/13; and Ruggie Report 2010–Report to the Human Rights Council by
the Special Representative of the Secretary-General on the issue of human rights
and transnational corporations and other business enterprises of 9 April 2010, UN
Doc. A/HRC/14/27.
11
UN Human Rights Council Resolution 8/7 (note 9), para. 1.
12
ECHR, Young, James and Webster v. United Kingdom, Judgment of 13 August
1981, Appl. No. 7601/76, 4 European Human Rights Reports 38.
13
See, for example, African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights
(ACommHPR), Social and Economic Rights Action Centre and the Centre for Economic
and Social Rights v. Nigeria, Communication No. 155/96 (2001), para. 59: “[Nigeria is
in violation] of local people’s rights to […] health […] and life [by] breaching its duty
to protect the Ogoni people from damaging acts of oil companies”. See also ECHR,
Lopez Ostra v Spain, Judgment of 9 December 1994, Appl. No. 16798/90, 20 European
Human Rights Reports 277; ECHR, Guerra v. Italy, Judgment of 19 February 1998,
Appl. No. 00014967/89 (1998) 26 European Human Rights Reports 357.
456 robert mccorquodale

development.14 In all of these cases, the state was in breach of its obliga-
tions under the relevant human rights treaty because its acts or omis-
sions (including its acquiescence) enabled the corporation to act as it
did. Therefore, even where a state (or a state official) is not directly
responsible for the actual violation of international human rights law,
the state can still be held responsible for a lack of positive action in
responding to, or preventing, the violation of human rights by the cor-
poration (and other non-state actors).
In many situations, the government of a state is less economically
powerful than the corporation.15 However, even where there is such
economic inequality, a state is still responsible for the violations of
human rights that occur in its jurisdiction by the corporation. Indeed,
a state’s obligation to protect human rights extends to situations where
there is internal armed conflict and where the actions that violate
human rights are committed by paramilitary or armed opposition
groups,16 and even to parts of a state’s territory where it is not currently
exercising effective control.17
The Ruggie Reports have yet to explore fully whether a state’s obliga-
tion to protect human rights extends to the extra-territorial activities of
both the state and of non-state actors, such as corporations. This is rel-
evant because a state’s obligation to protect human rights is not gener-
ally limited to its territory but extends to all those within its
“jurisdiction”.18 The difference between “territory” and “jurisdiction”

14
See Inter-American Court of Human Rights (IACtHR), Yanomani v. Brazil
(1985), Res. 12/85 Annual Rep. Inter-American Commission on Human Rights
(IACommHR) 1985–84; IACtHR, The Mayagna (Sumo) Awas Tingni Community v.
Nicaragua, Judgment of 31 August 2001, IACtHR Series C No. 79; and HRC, Hopu and
Bessert v. France (1997), UN Doc. CCPR/C/60/D/549/1993/Rev.1.
15
For example, BHP, an Australian-based corporation, had such a strong influence
over the government of Papua New Guinea and its income, that the government passed
laws to protect BHP from legal challenge over its activities there, even though those
activities had a profound negative impact on its own citizens: see BHP v. Dagi [1996],
2 VR 117 (Victorian Court of Appeal). For a more recent example, see The Times,
“Banana Company Armed Guerrillas”, 16 November 2007, p.50, in relation to the
activities of the US corporation Chiquita in Colombia.
16
For example, ECHR, Ergi v. Turkey, Judgment of 18 July 1998, Appl. No. 23818/94,
32 European Human Rights Reports 388; and ECHR, Timurtas v. Turkey, Judgment of
13 June 2000, Appl. No. 23531/94.
17
See ECHR, Ilascu v. Moldova and Russia, Judgment of 8 July 2004, Appl. No.
48787/99.
18
For example, the American Convention on Human Rights 1969, Article 1(1); and
the European Convention on Human Rights 1950, Article 1.
 international human rights law457

was clarified by the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights,

where it stated that:
[The Commission] does not believe […] that the term “jurisdiction” […]
is limited to or merely coextensive with national territory. Rather, the
Commission is of the view that a state […] may be responsible under
certain circumstances for the acts and omissions of its agents which pro-
duce effects or are undertaken outside that state’s territory.19
In general, persons are “within the jurisdiction” of a state acting extra-
territorially, whether or not that (home) state is acting with the consent
or acquiescence of the government of the host state (i.e. the state on
whose territory the activity contrary to human rights is occurring), and
whether or not the home state is in effective overall control of a part of
the host state’s territory, and whether or not the host state is a party to
the relevant human rights treaty. For example, the Inter-American
Commission on Human Rights had to consider this issue in relation to
the legal status of the persons detained by the United States (US) at
Guantanamo Bay, Cuba.20 The Commission considered that, although
the detainees were outside the territory of the US they were subject to
its jurisdiction because they were “wholly within the authority and
control of the United States government”.21 While there are limits to the
extent to which a state can be held to have jurisdiction and control,
including over its own nationals, a state can be found to be in violation
of its obligations under international human rights treaties for actions
taken by it extraterritorially, in relation to anyone within the power,
control or authority of that state, as well as within an area over which
that state exercises effective overall control.22

19
IACommHR, Saldaño v. Argentina, Judgment on Inadmissability of 11 March
1999, Report No. 38/99, para. 17. The same approach has been taken by the European
Court of Human Rights (see Drozd and Janousek v. France and Spain, Judgment of 26
June 1992, Appl. No. 12747/8, 14 EHRR 745, para. 91); and the UN Human Rights
Committee, General Comment No. 31(80) of 26 May 2004, Nature of the General
Legal Obligation Imposed on States Parties to the Covenant, para. 3, UN Doc.
CCPR/C/21/Rev.1/Add.13.
20
IACommHR, Detainees at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba (Precautionary Measures), 41
ILM 532 (2002).
21
Id., 533.
22
See ICJ, Armed Activities on the Territory of the Congo (Democratic Republic of
the Congo v. Uganda), Judgment on merits of 19 December 2005, 45 ILM 271, para.
217, where the International Court of Justice held that the African Charter of Human
and Peoples’ Rights and the Convention on the Rights of the Child applied
extraterritorially.
458 robert mccorquodale

Because each state has a general duty not to act in such a way as to
cause harm, such as environmental pollution, outside its territory,23
there is growing support for the view that “[w]here a state knows that
its national’s activities will cause, or are causing, harm to other states or
peoples, it is consistent with this [general] duty that it should prevent
such harm”.24 Both the European Court of Human Rights and the
Human Rights Committee have considered that a state may be respon-
sible “because of acts of their authorities, whether performed within or
outside national boundaries, which produce effects outside their own
territory”25 and for “the extraterritorial consequences of its intra-
territorial decisions”.26 It has also been suggested that the obligation on
a state to protect under the International Covenant on Economic,
Social and Cultural Rights “includes an obligation for the state to
ensure that all other bodies subject to its control (such as transnational
corporations based in that state) respect the enjoyment of rights in
other countries”.27
Therefore, it is argued here that the state’s obligation to protect
human rights includes an obligation to act in such a way that it has
effective laws and practices that protect actions and omissions by state
agents and by non-state actors who violate human rights. What this
requires is that a state must regulate and control corporations that are
incorporated or active in that state (corporate nationals), in such a way
that the corporations do not violate human rights or face effective
sanctions if they do. This cannot be restricted to the corporate nation-
al’s activity just within the state’s territory since, without some form of
extraterritorial regulation of corporate nationals, such entities “could
easily bypass the mandate of municipal law by transferring or relocat-
ing their business operations offshore where human rights obligations

23
See for example, Trail Smelter Arbitration (US v. Canada), 3 UNRIAA 1905
(1941); and Arbitration Tribunal, The Rainbow Warrior (New Zealand v. France),
82 ILR 449 (1990).
24
M. Sornarajah, Linking State Responsibility for Certain Harms Caused by
Corporate Nationals Abroad to Civil Recourse in the Legal Systems of Home States, in:
C. Scott (ed.), Torture as Tort, 491–512, at 507 (2001).
25
ECHR, Loizidou v. Turkey, Judgment on Preliminary Objections of 23 March
1995, Appl. No. 15318/89, 20 EHRR 99, para. 62.
26
S. Joseph / J. Schultz / M. Castan, The International Covenant on Civil and
Political Rights: Cases, Commentary and Materials, at 96 (2nd ed. 2004).
27
F. Coomans, Some Remarks on the Extraterritorial Application of the International
Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, in: F. Coomans / M. T. Kamminga
(eds.), Extraterritorial Application of Human Rights Treaties, 183–199, at 192 (2004).
 international human rights law459

are less stringent”.28 However, the difficulty is that, in many instances,

corporations operate with many subsidiaries and those subsidiaries are
often not incorporated in the state of the parent corporation and so
not, at least in international legal theory, within the home state’s
jurisdiction.29
Yet state practice reflects a variety of approaches for dealing with
“the tendency of groups of companies to utilise their legal structure to
avoid state regulation”.30 There is a long-standing practice of some
national courts to look at the whole operation of a corporation, and not
just its notionally separate parts, in order to bring a foreign parent cor-
poration within the jurisdiction of a state. For example, a number of
national courts have allowed for the possible liability on the parent cor-
porate nationals for the acts of foreign subsidiaries that constitute vio-
lations of international human rights law.31 The European Union seems
to be moving towards locating the “centre of the main interests” of the
corporation, rather than its state of incorporation, in relation to the
application of some areas of European Union law.32 In this regard, it has
been persuasively argued that:
“[If a corporation is regarded as] a conglomerate of units of a single
entity, each unit performing a specific function, the function of the par-
ent company being to provide expertise, technology, supervision and
finance […] [then if] injuries result from negligence in respect of the
parent company functions, then the parent company should be liable.”33
Indeed, it is inconceivable that decisions about many matters, such
as human resource policies, marketing and finances, are made in

28
S. Deva, Acting Extraterritorially to Tame Multinational Corporations for Human
Rights Violations: Who Should “Bell the Cat”?, 5 Melbourne JIL 37, at 49 (2004).
29
F. A. Mann, The Doctrine of International Jurisdiction Revisited After Twenty
Years, in: Collected Courses of the Hague Academy of International Law, at 56 (1985):
“[a] subsidiary is a separate legal entity and therefore necessarily distinct from its
parent […] as a matter of international law, parent and subsidiary are each subject
to the exclusive jurisdiction of their respective [States]”. See also ICJ, Case Concerning
the Barcelona Traction, Light and Power Co Ltd (Second Phase) (Belgium v. Spain),
ICJ Reports 1970, 3, at 42.
30
See J. Dine, The Governance of Corporate Groups, 65 and generally at 37–66
(2000); J. Dine, Companies, International Trade and Human Rights (2005).
31
For a full discussion of the UK and US case law on this issue, see S. Joseph,
Corporations and Transnational Human Rights Litigation (2004).
32
See the European Community Regulation on Insolvency Proceedings 1346/2000.
33
R. Meeran, The Unveiling of Transnational Corporations: A Direct Approach, in:
M. Addo (ed.), Human Rights Standards and the Responsibility of Transnational
Corporations, 161, at 170 (1999).
460 robert mccorquodale

a particular location by a subsidiary. They are generally determined at

the headquarters of the parent corporation. The consequences of this
for a state’s obligations are considered below.
This issue of control by a state over a corporation’s activities is
also relevant in a different way. While the actions by corporations
(as private bodies) are not usually attributed to a state so as to make the
state responsible under general international law for their actions,
sometimes those actions can be attributed to a state. The International
Law Commission in its Articles on the Responsibility of States for
Internationally Wrongful Acts,34 which applies generally to interna-
tional law and not only international human rights law, has identified
four key situations in which the acts of non-state actors such as corpo-
rations can be attributed to the state, for which the state will incur
international responsibility where there is a breach of an international
obligation (such as an obligation under a human rights treaty).35 First,
a state would be responsible for the acts of a person or entity where the
latter was empowered by law to exercise elements of governmental
activity.36 Second, a state would be responsible for the acts of a person
or entity that was acting under the instructions or direction or control
of the state.37 Third, a state may incur international responsibility for
the acts of a person or entity where the state adopts or acknowledges
the act as its own.38 Fourth, a state may also incur international respon-
sibility where it is complicit in the activity of the non-state actor or fails

34
International Law Commission, Articles on the Responsibility of States for
Internationally Wrongful Acts, Report of the International Law Commission on the
Work of its 53nd session, A/56/10, August 2001, UN GAOR 56th Sess. Supp. No. 10,
UN Doc. A/56/10(SUPP) (2001) [hereinafter ILC Articles]. Not all the ILC Articles can
be considered to be customary international law, though most of them–including
those relevant to this paper–have been adopted by international tribunals as reflective
of customary international law: see H. Duffy, Towards Global Responsibility for
Human Rights Protection: A Sketch of International Developments, 15 Interights
Bulletin 104 (2006).
35
See also Armed Activities on the Territory of the Congo (note 22), 55–56, 90.
36
ILC Articles (note 34), Article 5.
37
J. Crawford, The International Law Commission’s Articles on State Responsibility:
Introduction, Text and Commentaries (2002) [hereinafter ILC Commentaries], paras.
91 and 121. Interestingly, non-state actors such as corporations may wish their actions
to be attributable to the state in order to avoid national legal claims, and yet at the same
time claim that they are private entities.
38
See ILC Articles (note 34), Article 11. The early global corporations, such as the
Dutch East India Company and the Newfoundland Company, were granted charters as
a delegation of powers by the monarch, and many of their activities were attributable
to the state: see S. Bottomley, From Contractualism to Constitutionalism: A Framework
for Corporate Governance, 19 Sydney Law Review 277 (1997).
 international human rights law461

to exercise due diligence to prevent the effects of the actions of non-

state actors.39
While a fuller discussion of this issue is beyond the scope of this
article,40 one example will illustrate its potential impact in relation to
corporations and human rights. A corporation could be acting under
the instructions, direction or control of a state where the corporation
or its employees are “employed as auxiliaries or are sent as ‘volunteers’
to neighbouring countries, or who are instructed to carry out particu-
lar missions abroad”.41 This issue has become more prominent since the
beginning of the (illegal) action by the occupying forces in Iraq, where
it became clear how many private corporations were contracted by the
states involved to provide a wide variety of services, from providing
intelligence to re-creating state infrastructure to support such military
action.42 Indeed, the investigations after the discovery of prisoner abuse
in Abu Ghraib (and elsewhere) have shown that some of these abuses
were committed by employees of private contractors. With the increas-
ing use of corporations by states in their extraterritorial military activi-
ties, as well as in trade and other areas, there is clearly the possibility
that the activities of these corporations will be attributed to the state.43
Where such activities violate international human rights law, the state
will incur international responsibility, including those situations where
the corporation contravenes instructions.44
The state may also be complicit in a corporation’s activities that have
led to human rights violations. Governments are often very active in
their support of their corporations, through financing, such as the pro-
vision of export credits and political risk insurance, and through devel-
oping essential contacts in other states and participating in government
trade missions abroad, as well as in entering into bilateral investment

39
See ICJ, Case Concerning United States Diplomatic and Consular Staff in Tehran
(US v. Iran), ICJ Reports 1980, at 3, paras. 57, 69–71.
40
For a fuller discussion see R. McCorquodale / P. Simons, Responsibility beyond
Borders: State Responsibility for Extraterritorial Violations by Corporations of
International Human Rights Law, 70 Modern Law Review 598 (2007).
41
ILC Commentaries (note 37), para. 110.
42
See, for example, S. Gibson, Lack of Extraterritorial Jurisdiction over Civilians: A
New Look at an Old Problem, 148 Military Law Review 114 (1995); M. Schmitt,
Humanitarian Law and Direct Participation in Hostilities by Private Contractors or
Civilian Employees, Chicago Journal of International Law 511 (2005).
43
For a discussion in the context of private military firms see O. R. Jones, Implausible
Deniability: State Responsibility for the Actions of Private Military Firms, 24
Connecticut Journal of International Law 249 (2009).
44
ILC Articles (note 34), Article 7.
462 robert mccorquodale

treaties that assist their own corporations. This active support can lead
to the state being internationally responsible for the consequences of a
corporation’s activities. For example, the legal (and financial) struc-
tures of the corporations (as a consortium) that operate the Baku-
Tbilisi-Ceyhan pipeline45 include agreements between the consortium
and the host state governments that contain “stabilisation clauses”.
These make the host governments liable to pay compensation to the
consortium where, for example, they make any regulatory changes that
adversely affect the “economic equilibrium” of the project and so effec-
tively prohibit the host governments from applying certain labour
standards to the consortium members or to give an increased human
rights protection in that state, even if this is contrary to that state’s
international human rights obligations.46 It is of note that BP, the leader
of the consortium managing the project, responded to these concerns
by entering into a Human Rights Undertaking, which prevents the
consortium from asserting in legal proceedings an interpretation of
the governing agreements that is inconsistent with the regulation by
host states of their obligations under human rights treaties.47 This
example shows that if a home state has provided financial backing or
other support for such a project, then it would be wise to ensure that
such undertakings by its corporate nationals (and their subsidiaries)
are made as this would reduce the possibility of the state itself being
found to be complicit in a host state’s internationally wrongful act
(e.g. a violation of its human rights obligations) in relation to the cor-
poration’s activities.48 It cannot reasonably be argued today that states

45
The consortium members include Amerada Hess, AzBTC, BP, Chevron,
ConocoPhillips, Eni, INPEX, Itochu, Statoil, Total and TPAO.
46
Thus, for example, in its Host Government Agreement for the Baku pipeline, the
Turkish government is prevented from requiring any consortium members to comply
with labour standards “that i) exceed those international labour standards or practices
which are customary in international petroleum transportation projects, or ii) are con-
trary to the goal of promoting an efficient and motivated workforce”, see Amnesty
International, Human Rights on The Line: The Baku-Tbilisi-Ceyhan Pipeline Project,
May 2003, available at http://www.amnesty.org.uk/content.asp?CategoryID=10128.
See also T. E. Lawson-Remer, A Role for the International Finance Corporation in
Integrating Environmental and Human Rights Standards into Core Project Covenants:
Case Study of the Baku-Tbilisi-Ceyhan Oil Pipeline Project, in: O. De Schutter (ed.),
Transnational Corporations and Human Rights, 393, at 410–411 (2006).
47
The Human Rights Undertaking was entered into by BP in September 2003 and is
available at http://subsites.bp.com/caspian/Human%20Rights%20Undertaking.pdf.
48
Another example of this issue may be the on-going claims about the UK govern-
ment’s involvement in BAE Systems activities in Saudi Arabia that may have breached
human rights, see, for example, BBC, The BAE-Saudi Allegations, 30 July 2008,
 international human rights law463

do not know that their corporate nationals may engage in human

rights violating activity in their extraterritorial operations, as there
are an increasing number of investor and consumer campaigns in
relation to corporation’s human rights impacts, and of claims being
brought in national courts against corporations for violations of human
rights.49
Therefore, in relation to the first pillar of the Ruggie Report 2008’s
framework, each state does have an extensive legal obligation to protect
all those within their territory from violations of human rights by both
state officials and by corporations in relation to those human rights for
which the state has accepted legal obligations (under both treaty and
customary international law). This obligation extends to all those
within the state’s jurisdiction (including extraterritorially) and requires
a state to enact laws and establish practices to protect against human
rights violations, which may include regulation of both corporate
nationals and their subsidiaries. With this dynamic expansion of obli-
gations, it is not surprising that there are a number of key issues in this
regard: states should ensure that they meet their human rights obliga-
tions, including not allowing investment treaties to restrict their human
rights protection activities; states should ensure that their own engage-
ment with corporations, such as in export credit guarantees and public
procurement processes, do respect human rights; states should enact
laws and introduce practices, such as with directors duties under com-
pany law and in their financial reporting, that encourage or force cor-
porations to respect human rights; states should consider new
approaches to dealing with extraterritorial jurisdiction; and states
should ensure that corporations acting in conflict zones and emerging
markets are appropriately regulated (see further below). If states take
these obligations and these approaches seriously then significant steps
forward would be made in the protection of the human rights affected
by corporate activity. While this clarifies the responsibilities of states in
this area, the cooperation of corporations is also essential.

available at http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/business/6729489.stm, and Corporate Watch,

BEA Systems–A Corporate Profile, available at http://www.corporatewatch.org/
?lid=185.
49
The impact of this approach and the Ruggie Report framework has already
been seen in, for example, the announcement of Canada’s export credit agency’s
new Statement on Human Rights, New statement sets out EDC’s principles for the
consideration of Human Rights, 30 April 2008, available at http://www.edc.ca/english/
docs/news/2008/mediaroom_14502.htm.
464 robert mccorquodale

C. Corporate Responsibility to Respect

The Ruggie Report 2008 made clear that corporations have a responsi-
bility to protect human rights. This responsibility is defined as follows:
“[The corporate] responsibility to respect is defined by social expecta-
tions–as part of what is sometimes called a company’s social licence to
operate […] [and] ‘doing no harm’ is not merely a passive responsibility
for firms but may entail positive steps. To discharge the responsibility to
respect requires due diligence. This concept describes the steps a com-
pany must take to become aware of, prevent and address adverse human
rights impacts.”50
This is a strong and important statement that also recognises that the
responsibility to respect is expected of all corporations and not just a
few large transnational corporations. Also the responsibility is in regard
to all human rights, including economic, social, cultural and collective
rights.
There are three main areas of this pillar that I will explore: corporate
social responsibility (CSR) policies and human rights; the concept of
“responsibility”; and the content of “due diligence”. In addition, it
should be noted that the Ruggie framework does not alter the position
that, under the current international human rights law structure, cor-
porations do not have any direct international legal obligations, so cor-
porations cannot be directly responsible for violations of that law.51

I. Corporate Social Responsibility

Many corporations and business organisations have supported this pil-
lar of the Ruggie framework.52 Much of this support comes from the
view that corporations do not have the same legal obligations as states
in relation to international law and also that almost all corporations
operating across state boundaries have some type of CSR policy, ­usually

50
Ruggie Report 2008 (note 2), paras. 54–61.
51
This is due to the fact that international human rights law imposes the legal
obligations to protect human rights on states alone, and has not yet developed so as
to regulate directly the activities of corporations, or other non-state actors. For a dis-
cussion of this, see R. McCorquodale / R. La Forgia, Taking off the Blindfolds: Torture
by Non-State Actors, 1 Human Rights Law Review 189 (2001).
52
See, for example, the International Chamber of Commerce, Joint Views of the
International Chamber of Commerce and the International Organisation of Employers
to the 8th session of the Human Rights Council of the [Ruggie Report], March 2009,
available at http://www.ioe-emp.org.
 international human rights law465

dealing with social, environmental and ethical issues. Indeed, many of

these corporations see their CSR policies as being the equivalent to a
human rights policy and/or as making them compliant with human
rights norms.53
However, having a CSR policy is not the same as providing protec-
tion for all human rights. While there are a variety of definitions of
CSR, there are:
[T]wo broad types of definitions of CSR: first, those that focus on out-
comes–including outcomes in terms of “business impacts”, “commercial
success” and wider societal goals; and, second, those that stress the vol-
untary nature of CSR (”voluntary” in that CSR relates to business activity
that is not mandated by legislation).54
What is important about all the definitions is that essentially CSR are
management-driven and corporate-determined policies that are
designed to assist the corporation’s business, including in terms of its
reputation, even if genuinely aimed for a positive social end. In con-
trast, human rights protections are person-centred and have legitimate
compliance mechanisms (even if these are not strong). Human rights
are not voluntary. Human rights are an expression of human dignity
and the right to be protected in that human dignity. In addition, most
CSR policies tend to refer to, or focus on, a limited range of human
rights, such as the right to privacy or freedom from torture. While
there is now a growing acceptance by many of the major transnational
corporations that CSR policies need to align with human rights, it is
still vital that this distinction between CSR policies and human rights
protections is made clearly and unequivocally to corporations and that
they introduce appropriate human rights protection policies and prac-
tices (see further below).

II. Responsibility
The Ruggie Reports draw a deliberate distinction between the state’s
“duty” to protect and the corporate “responsibility” to respect; perhaps

53
See, for example, the survey evidence of corporations in relation to human
rights in A. McBeth / S. Joseph, Same Words, Different Language: Corporate
Perceptions of Human Rights Responsibilities, 11 Australian Journal of Human Rights
95 (2005).
54
H. Ward, Corporate Social Responsibility in Law and Policy, in: N. Boeger /
R. Murray / C. Villiers (eds.), Perspectives on Corporate Social Responsibility, 8, at 10
(2008).
466 robert mccorquodale

trying to sharpen the difference between legal and moral obligations.55

This “responsibility” is called a “social expectation” in the Ruggie
Report 2008, as quoted above. In the Ruggie Report 2009, it is called a
“social norm” on which a corporation’s “social licence to operate is
based”56 and in the Ruggie Report 2010 it is seen as a “standard of
expected conduct”.57 The distinction in terminology between a “duty”
of state (which is a legal obligation) and a corporate “responsibility”
(which appears not to mean a legal obligation) is confusing. Yet the
concept of corporate responsibility, as Ruggie himself noted in an ear-
lier report, is that it is “the legal, social or moral obligations imposed on
companies”.58 That earlier view is consistent with the general under-
standing that:
“[T]he concept of corporate responsibility is based on the expectation
that private companies should no longer base their actions on the needs
of their shareholders alone, but rather have obligations towards the soci-
ety in which the company operates.”59
In fact, when the Human Rights Council endorsed the framework of
the Ruggie Report 2008 in its 2009 Resolution, it used the term “respon-
sibility” for both states and corporations.60
Further, there is a real difficulty in determining a “social expectation”
or a “social norm” in this instance. It may be the case that
“[CSR means] operating a business enterprise in a manner that consist-
ently meets or exceeds the ethical, legal, commercial, and public expecta-
tions society has of business.”61
Yet, even if a “social expectation” can be discerned through empirical
evidence, which society is the relevant society for determining the

55
See, for example, M. A. Eisenberg, The World of Contract and the World of Gift,
85 California Law Review 821 (1997).
56
See Ruggie Report 2009 (note 10), para. 46.
57
See Ruggie Report 2010 (note 10), para. 55.
58
Report of the Special Representative of the Secretary-General on the issue of
human rights and transnational corporations and other business enterprises: Mapping
International Standards of Responsibility and Accountability for Corporate Acts, 2007,
UN Doc. A/HRC/4/35, para. 6 [my emphasis].
59
E. Morgera, Corporate Accountability in International Environmental Law, 18
(2009) [emphasis in the original]. She prefers the use of the term “corporate account-
ability”, as it implies that they are answerable to others for their actions.
60
UN HRC resolution 8/7 (note 9), Preamble.
61
Business for Social Responsibility, available at http://www.bsr.org/
resourcecenter.
 international human rights law467

expectation? Is it all the international community (however that is

defined)62 or only the industrialised, consumer-active North? Does it
include the rural poor in non-industrialised states? Will it affect those
corporations producing consumer goods (especially those with a par-
ent corporation in an industrialised state) more than those that do not
produce consumer goods? If there is such a “social licence” for a corpo-
ration to operate, then it is highly unlikely that those who are oppressed
and those whose human rights are violated by a corporation will be in
a position to withdraw that social licence.
There is also the concern that these “social expectations” could be
defined or manipulated to serve only some entrenched economic inter-
ests or selected social partners. As there is usually a lack of full and
transparent information by corporations on these matters, it would be
difficult to see if there is really compliance with any human rights by a
corporation. To base such an important distinction between a state’s
obligations and a corporation’s obligations in relation to human rights
on the nebulous idea of a social licence to operate and on vague social
expectations is unsatisfactory. Whilst the Special Representative is
clearly trying to use his consultations and practical experiments to
change the expectations of corporations and civil society, there is still a
gulf between the responsibilities, the expectations and the reality.

III. Due Diligence

The final aspect of this pillar of the framework is that of “due diligence”.
This concept appears to be an integration of the human rights obliga-
tion of due diligence in relation to the actions of non-state actors (such
as corporations)63 and the general business practice of due diligence. In
relation to the general business practice, the Ruggie Report 2009 notes:
“Businesses routinely employ due diligence to assess exposure to risks
beyond their control and develop mitigation strategies for them, such as
changes in government policy, shifts in consumer preferences, and even
weather patterns. Controllable or not, human rights challenges arising

62
For a more detailed discussion of the international community see
R. McCorquodale, International Community and State Sovereignty: An Uneasy
Symbiotic Relationship, in: C. Warbrick / S. Tierney (eds.), Towards an ‘International
Legal Community’? The Sovereignty of States and the Sovereignty of International
Law, at 241 (2006).
63
See ICJ, Vélásquez Rodriguez v. Honduras, judgment of 29 July 1988, 28 ILM 294,
paras. 172, 176 (1989).
468 robert mccorquodale

from the business context, its impacts and its relationships, can pose
material risks to the company and its stakeholders, and generate out-
right abuses that may be linked to the company in perception or reality.
Therefore, they merit a similar level of due diligence as any other
risk.”64
Thus the Ruggie Reports cleverly aim to use a terminology that is
familiar to both human rights law and business management practices.
This could be helpful, except that the terminologies are based on differ-
ent types of obligations. Under international human rights law, the
obligation of due diligence is a positive legal obligation on a state,
demanding considerable state resources, such as to undertake fact-
finding and criminal investigation, and to provide redress, even when
the original act was by a corporation.65 There is a clear standard estab-
lished by the human rights treaty bodies to determine if this legal obli-
gation to have due diligence about individual’s and group’s interests has
been breached.
In contrast, the business practice of due diligence, which is often
undertaken as a form of audit, especially during mergers and acquisi-
tions, is a procedural practice to reduce risk in relation to the corpora-
tion’s own interests. Whilst the reality of management of risk is a vital
part of corporate activity, and poorly conducted due diligence audit
can have adverse consequences (especially to the legal and accounting
advisors to the corporation), it is difficult to establish a clear standard
of business due diligence that can be adjudicated by human rights
treaty bodies and other dispute settlement bodies.66 It is therefore puz-
zling that the Ruggie Report 2009 adopts a definition of due diligence
that includes a legal aspect:
“Due diligence is commonly defined as ‘diligence reasonably expected
from, and ordinarily exercised by, a person who seeks to satisfy a legal
requirement or to discharge an obligation’ […] The Special Representative
uses this term in its broader sense: a comprehensive, proactive attempt to

64
Ruggie Report 2009 (note 10), para. 52.
65
See, for example, ECHR, Jordan v. UK, Judgment of 4 May 2001, Appl. No.
24746/94, where the ECHR considered that the conduct of the investigation, the coro-
ner’s inquest, delay, the lack of both legal aid for the victim’s family and the lack of
public scrutiny of the reasons of the Director of Public Prosecutions not to prosecute,
was a violation of Article 2 of the ECHR. See also UN Committee Against Torture,
Halimi-Nedzibi v. Austria (8/1991), 1(2) IHRR 190, para. 13.5 (1994).
66
Sometimes due diligence can be a defence by corporations in relation to a regula-
tory strict liability offence or some corporate criminal offences, see J. Dine (note 30).
 international human rights law469

uncover human rights risks, actual and potential, over the entire life cycle
of a project or business activity, with the aim of avoiding and mitigating
those risks.”67
Nevertheless, as seen in the quotation above, the Ruggie Reports adopt
a view of the due diligence requirement of the corporate responsibility
to respect as requiring positive actions by a corporation and not merely
a requirement to do no harm. This is seen in the four core elements of
due diligence outlined in the Reports: having a human rights policy;
assessing human rights impacts of company activities; integrating
those values and findings into corporate cultures and management sys-
tems; and tracking as well as reporting performance. Each of these
requires policies and effective practices in accordance with those poli-
cies, and both of these requirements are to be supported. Indeed, as the
Ruggie Report 2010 notes, such policies and practices may assist a cor-
poration in both decision-making as to investments and also as a pro-
tection against litigation.68
Yet in all the very helpful and persuasive clarification and extension
of a corporation’s responsibility to respect human rights in this pillar,
the core of it remains voluntary. While Ruggie acknowledges that this
responsibility is not a “law-free zone” as there may be legal require-
ments under national law,69 nevertheless, the best the framework can
do is to remind corporations that it is in their best interests in manag-
ing risk that they comply with this responsibility. It largely relies on
good cooperation by corporations with various stakeholders. This will,
accordingly, have a differential effect on corporations, with some seek-
ing to comply (though perhaps concerned about their competitive-
ness) and others appearing to be unconcerned.70 In particular, the lack
of clearer legal obligations on corporations in relation to their activities
that violate human rights makes it very difficult to access or enforce
any remedies against them.

67
Ruggie Report 2009 (note 10), para. 71. The quotation is from Black’s Law
Dictionary (8th ed. 2006).
68
Ruggie Report 2010 (note 10), para. 86. Though he does not suggest that conduct-
ing human rights due diligence by a corporation will fully absolve it of human rights
litigation claims.
69
See Ruggie Report 2010 (note 10), para. 66.
70
See, for example, the reported activities of Trafigura in relation to their alleged
pollution of the Ivory Coast: D. Leigh, How UK oil company Trafigura tried to cover
up African pollution disaster, The Guardian, 16 September 2009.
470 robert mccorquodale

D. Access to Remedy

The third pillar of the framework is the need for access to a remedy. The
Ruggie Reports indicates that there should be “effective grievance
mechanisms” for the actions of both states and corporations, “where
there is a perceived injustice evoking an individual’s or a group’s sense
of entitlement, which may be based on law, explicit or implicit prom-
ises, customary practice, or general notions of fairness”,71 and that these
can be judicial and non-judicial.72 I will briefly consider the obligations
which this pillar imposes on states and corporations, and within the
international legal system.

I. States’ Actions
A state has an obligation under international human rights law to pro-
vide a remedy where there is a violation of human rights. While there
is some discretion in a state as to how to provide a remedy, it must be
“accessible and effective […] [with] appropriate judicial and adminis-
trative mechanisms for addressing claims of rights violations under
domestic law”.73 As shown above, a state’s obligation to protect human
rights includes an obligation to regulate, through law and practice, the
actions of corporations which violate human rights. This obligation
requires states to regulate their corporate nationals as part of the state’s
responsibilities under international law. There is substantial state prac-
tice in which national laws have been extended to regulate the conduct
of corporate nationals operating extraterritorially through foreign sub-
sidiaries, such as in areas of competition law, shareholder and con-
sumer protection, anti-bribery and corruption, and tax law. In relation
to bribery and corruption, states have concluded treaties imposing
obligations on them to regulate extraterritorial conduct of corporate
nationals and their subsidiaries.74

71
Ruggie Report 2010 (note 10), para. 90.
72
Ruggie Report 2008 (note 2), paras. 82–103.
73
UN HRC General Comment 31 (note 19), para. 15.
74
See for example the UN Convention Combating Bribery of Foreign Public
Officials in International Business Transactions 2003, adopted 31 October 2003,
entered into force 14 December 2005, 43 ILM 37 (2004). The Convention imposes
obligations on states parties to establish laws and criminal sanctions with respect to the
bribery of foreign public officials and officials of public international organisations
(Article 16) and to extend liability (whether criminal, civil or administrative) and sanc-
tions to legal persons.
 international human rights law471

It is argued here that states, as part of their obligation to enable

access to remedies, should amend their corporation/company law,
including in areas such as directors’ duties, to regulate the activity of a
corporation in relation to any of the corporation’s activities (including
extraterritorially and for its subsidiaries) that could adversely impact
on the protection of human rights. Many states are now doing this,75
and some states are also extending their criminal law to include corpo-
rate activity.76 Laws should be developed so that parent corporations
are clearly legally responsible in their home state for the actions of their
subsidiaries in other states that occurred due to the subsidiary operat-
ing the policies of the parent corporation (for example, on human
resource policies, marketing and finances). This may also be a means to
enable appropriate capacity building support to occur in some eco-
nomically weaker states.

II. Corporations’ Actions

In relation to corporations’ obligations for access to remedies, many
corporations have committed themselves to global, sectoral or other
statements about CSR, some of which include reference to human
rights.77 These are all voluntary commitments and none of them have
any compliance mechanisms with independent dispute settlement
bodies. This prevents access to legally effective remedies.78 Indeed,
most corporations respond better to preventative regulation by a state

75
See, for example, the UK Companies Act 2006 that requires directors to “have
regard” to such matters as “the impact of the company’s operations on the community
and the environment” as part of their duties (Section 172 (1) (d)), and the South
African Companies Act 2008 allows the Government to prescribe social and ethics
commitments for companies (Section 72 (4)).
76
See, for example, Italian statute Decreto Legislativo 231#, 2001, and Australian
Commonwealth Criminal Code 1995.
77
For example, the UN Global Compact, available at http://www.unglobalcompact
.org. The Global Compact includes the following principles that corporations should
adopt: “World Business should Principle 1: support and respect the protection of
human rights within their sphere of influence; Principle 2: make sure that their own
corporations are not complicit in human rights abuses”. See also the promotion of
CSR by the International Council on Mining and Metals, available at http://www
.icmm.com/our-work/sustainable-development-framework.
78
See, for example, the chemical industry activities: J. Colopy, Poisoning the
Developing World: The Exportation of Unregistered and Severely Restricted Pesticides
from the United States, 13 UCLA Journal of Environmental Law and Policy 167
(1994/1995); R. Gottlieb et al, Greening or Greenwashing?: The Evolution of Industry
Decision Making, in: R. Gottlieb (ed.), Reducing Toxics: A New Approach to Policy
and Industrial Decision Making (1995).
472 robert mccorquodale

than to reactive litigation, not least because it reduces uncertainty and

risk. While Ruggie suggests a range of principles that should be
included in all non-judicial grievance mechanisms–legitimacy, acces-
sibility, predictability, equitability, rights-compatibility and transpar-
ency79–it can be argued that the due diligence responsibility of
corporations should be directly linked to effective, legitimate monitor-
ing and compliance mechanisms regulated by law and not left to regu-
lation by a self-reviewing system.80 Of course, such independent
judicial mechanisms do not exist in some states, especially in conflict
zones, and so there is also a requirement for the rule of law to be
supported.81
When there is reference to legal regulation of corporations in the
Ruggie Reports, it tends to focus on the possibility of criminal sanc-
tions for corporations, especially in relation to corporate complicity.
While a discussion of this issue is outside the parameters of this article,
this issue of corporate criminal responsibility is particularly problem-
atic because of the requirement in criminal law of showing intent. This
requirement usually necessitates that there be a specific individual in a
corporation to whom the obligation would attach.82 However, the
requirement of individual responsibility to enable an access to a rem-
edy for a corporate act is not necessary in many areas of civil liability.
Corporations as legal entities have been held to be legally responsible
around the world for actions that violate aspects of human rights, such
as in consumer protection areas and environmental damage.83 There is
also the possibility of joint liability at the international level for a state
and a corporation, in the same way as it can occur within many states’
national laws.84 All these civil liability aspects of a corporation’s respon-
sibility in relation to access to remedies should be explored.

79
See Ruggie Report 2010 (note 10), para. 94. All these terms are undefined.
80
There is also likely to be more consistency of international human rights stand-
ards are applied than if they are either nationally based or deal with cultural issues in a
different way to international human rights law.
81
For a fuller discussion of the importance of the rule of law in this area, see
R. McCorquodale, Business, the International Rule of Law and Human Rights, in:
R. McCorquodale (ed.), The Rule of Law in International and Comparative Legal
Context (2010).
82
See the Report of the International Commission of Jurists, Corporate Complicity
and Legal Accountability (2008); and D. Silver, Collective Responsibility, Corporate
Responsibility and Moral Taint, 30 Midwest Studies in Philosophy 269 (2006).
83
See Scott (note 24).
84
See, for example, Morgera (note 59).
 international human rights law473

III. International Legal System

It is necessary to consider access to remedies for corporation’s activities
that impact on human rights within the current international legal sys-
tem, as there are a number of existing international instruments which
could be developed to establish more effective remedies. The most use-
ful of these are the OECD Guidelines on Multinational Enterprises
(Guidelines),85 especially as most transnational corporations have their
home state in an OECD state.86 A case brought by Global Witness
against a UK corporation, Afrimex Ltd, before the UK National Contact
Point (NCP), being the relevant supervisory body under these
Guidelines, bears this out.87 In that case, it was alleged that Afrimex
paid bribes to a rebel group and purchased minerals from mines in the
Democratic Republic of Congo where child labour and forced labour
were being used. Despite the fact that some of these activities occurred
through corporations not registered in the UK, the UK NCP found
Afrimex in violation of the Guidelines, as there had been insufficient
“due diligence” (the definition of which they drew from the Ruggie
Report 2008) in their supply chain, and it requested that Afrimex
formulate an appropriate CSR policy and to put it into effective
practice.
This is a clear and important decision. However, there are no effective
compliance mechanisms in the Guidelines to enforce this decision. It
relies more on “peer pressure” of other OECD states or a corporation’s
own willingness to act.88 These compliance mechanisms need to be
stronger and with effective sanctions. These could, for example, link
the NCPs more directly into the OECD state’s existing national human
rights institutions, require the state of the corporation in breach not to
allow that corporation access to government contracts and export
credits, or create a distinct OECD Guidelines legal committee with

85
OECD, The OECD Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises, OECD Declaration
and Decisions on International Investment and Multinational Enterprises: Basic Texts
(2000).
86
See UNCTAD, World Investment Report 2005: Transnational Corporations and
the Internationalization of R&D (2006).
87
UK National Contact Point, Global Witness v. Afrimex Ltd, 28 August 2008, avail-
able at http://www.berr.gov.uk/files/file47555.doc.
88
See the ECCJ, Fatal Transactions, Cafod, Global Witness, European office of
the Jesuits, IPIS, Briefing for the European Parliament Human Rights Sub-Committee,
16 April 2009, at 5, available at http://www.business-humanrights.org/Links/
Repository/409429/jump.
474 robert mccorquodale

enforcement powers. There is a particular need for these types of pow-

ers where corporations are operating in conflict zones and regions
where there is weak governance.89
Other possible means to ensure increased access to remedies under
the current international legal system can be found in areas such as
trade, finance and investment, especially as all these areas facilitate
global corporate activity. Therefore, it is necessary to include more
effective and pro-active application of human rights law by the interna-
tional financial institutions.90 This could mean greater transparency
and accountability of governments in terms of how they have used
international loans, as well as an increase in transparency of corporate
activity, including where there is bribery.91 In addition, all stabilisation
clauses that could restrict the ability of a state to protect human rights
should be removed from bilateral investment treaties (and similar
treaties).92
It is feasible to devise a treaty that would encompass corporations’
obligations with respect to human rights, in the same way as there are
aspects of international law, such as international criminal law and
international humanitarian law that encompass non-state actors’ obli-
gations. Yet this is unlikely to occur without the political will of states–
both the host states who gain the investment of corporations and the
home states who gain the returns on this investment–and the accept-
ance by the economically powerful lobby of corporations that this
would be in their interest. Pressure by civil society on states and corpo-
rations is also very helpful for this to be accepted by them. This accept-
ance is not impossible, as seen in the international tobacco regulation,93
and the process of drafting a treaty, even if slow, can be an important

89
See, for example, OECD, OECD Risk Awareness Tools for Multinational
Enterprises in Weak Governance Zones, available at http://www.oecd.org/
dataoecd/26/21/36885821.pdf.
90
See, for example, M. Darrow, Between Light and Shadow, The World Bank,
The International Monetary Fund and International Human Rights Law (2003); and
the Equator Principles, which are a voluntary set of guidelines for determining, assess-
ing and managing social and environmental risk in project financing, available at
http://www.equator-principles.com.
91
See, for example the approach of the Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative,
available at http://eitransparency.org.
92
This suggestion appears to have been taken up in the Ruggie Report 2009 (note
10), paras. 32–36.
93
See the World Health Organisation Framework Convention on Tobacco Control
2003, available at http://www.who.int/fctc. This reaffirms the right to the highest stand-
ard of health.
 international human rights law475

one in allowing many ideas and voices to be heard, and can operate as
part of a pull towards compliance with recognised international human
rights standards by corporations.
Hence, the last pillar of the Ruggie framework is essential but, as it is
built on the other two pillars, it has flaws, not least in whether there can
be an effective access to a remedy for a corporation when there is no
legal obligation on that corporation. There will also be issues of costs,
standing and access to justice which will require effective cooperation
between and within states.

E. Conclusions

The framework created by Ruggie has made a significant change in the

debate about the responsibility of corporations for violations of human
rights, as has his method of active consultation. There is still a great
amount of work to be done to ensure that the obligations and standards
recommended are not the very minimum but are a platform for
dynamic change, and that, as a consequence, there is support for capac-
ity building initiatives to assist governments and corporations around
the world towards upholding their responsibilities.
A major aspect of this operationalization will need to include legal
regulation. Corporate activity is assisted substantially by the operation
of a rule of law. A rule of law requires good governance consistent with
justice and human rights, that all actors are accountable to the law
(including governments and those with power), that all actors can have
disputes settled in an independent and accessible way, and that there
are compliance checking mechanisms.94 A rule of law is different from
a rule by law or a rule by power. Where there is an effective rule of law,
corporations can conduct their business aware that there is likely to be
a large degree of stability, certainty and recourse, and hence reduce
their risks.95 Therefore, as noted in the opening quotations, it is essen-
tial for both the interests of states and of corporations that there is
cooperation towards effective legal regulation in this area.

T. Bingham, The Rule of Law, 66 Cambridge Law Journal 67 (2007).

94

See the report from the World Bank on the link between the Rule of Law and
95

GDP: D. Kaufmann / A. Kraay / M. Mastruzzi, Governance Matters, available at http://

www.worldbank.org/wbi/governance (2005).
 The Protection of Indigenous Peoples
in International Law Revisited–From
Non-Discrimination to Self-Determination

Stefan Oeter

A. Introduction

In an article for the Heidelberg Journal which was obviously intended

as a survey of the state of discussion (and legal development), Rüdiger
Wolfrum in 1999 analysed the growing set of rules protecting indige-
nous peoples in international law.1 He implicitly reminded the reader–
like many other authors have done before and after him–that the issue
constituted a left-over of the decolonization process.2 With decoloniza-
tion and the granting of independence to former colonial territories,
the power of the state was handed over to local colonial elites–elites
mostly educated and formed in Europe–and these native elites now
had to run a state modelled by Europeans according to the traditions of
colonial statehood.3 The mere hand-over of power, which left unchanged
the iron structures of colonial statehood, cemented an injustice of the
past–the marginalization of indigenous peoples. These peoples had
been robbed by the colonial state of their lands, had lost their self-rule
which they had exercised according to local traditions and customs,
and had become dependent upon (and subject to) the institutions of
modern statehood.4 In the words of Rüdiger Wolfrum, “The reason why
indigenous peoples are considered to need particular protection, that is
to say a protection which exceeds the protection under international
human rights regimes, is the fact that these peoples have been deprived
by the immigration of other peoples of their rights. In particular, they
have lost rights concerning the land they traditionally occupied, and

1
R. Wolfrum, The Protection of Indigenous Peoples in International Law,
59 ZaöRV 369 (1999).
2
Id., at 369.
3
As to the reulting problems see the classical study by B. Davidson, The Black Man’s
Burden: Africa and the Curse of the Nation State (1992).
4
See also P. Keal, European Conquest and the Rights of Indigenous Peoples,
at 84–112, 156–184 (2003).
478 stefan oeter

the possibility to develop and sustain a community reflecting their par-

ticular values.”5
These words already contain an insight gained only decades after the
founding of the UN with its emphasis upon (individual) human rights–
the insight that the injustices done in the past (and repeated in the
present) to indigenous peoples are not automatically remedied with the
enforcement of general catalogues of human rights. The tragic situa-
tion of indigenous peoples in many places around the world has a lot to
do with discrimination; but mere non-discrimination does not really
cure their sad fate, because much more is needed than a simple policy
of anti-discrimination.6 These peoples face–again in the words of
Rüdiger Wolfrum–“the danger of losing their identity or, at least, they
face difficulties adjusting their traditional values or customs to new
conditions of life”7–specific difficulties that need specific (positive)
measures helping them to lead a decent life in modern times. It took
some time before the international community learned that lesson8–
although indigenous peoples had come into the focus of international
law as an object deserving specific protection as early as in the 1950s.
The first international legal document specifically dedicated to indige-
nous peoples, however, the 1957 ILO Convention No. 107 Concerning
the Protection and Integration of Indigenous and Other Tribal and
Semi-Tribal Populations in Independent Countries, was just the oppo-
site of a genuine instrument of protection serving the specific needs of
indigenous peoples. The Convention was an authentic expression of
the spirit of the time, a spirit oriented towards ‘nation-building’ of the
Newly Independent States.9 The Convention’s thrust was not oriented
towards reconstituting some kind of self-rule of indigenous peoples

5
Wolfrum (note 1), at 369.
6
See Keal (note 4), at 114–122, and in detail P. Thornberry, Indigenous Peoples and
Human Rights (2002), as well as J. Weigard, Is there a Special Justification for
Indigenous Rights?, in: H. Minde (ed.), Indigenous Peoples: Self-Determination,
Knowledge, Indigeneity, at 177–192 (2008), and S. Wiessner, Rights and Status of
Indigenous Peoples: A Global Comparative and International Analysis, 12 Harvard
Human Rights Journal, at 57–128 (1999).
7
Wolfrum (note 1), at 369.
8
See S. James Anaya, Indigenous Peoples in International Law, at 53 et seq. (2nd. ed.
2004); H. Minde, The Destination and the Journey: Indigenous Peoples and the United
Nations from the 1960s through 1985, in: H. Minde (ed.), Indigenous Peoples: Self-
Determination, Knowledge, Indigeneity, at 49–86 (2008).
9
See Anaya (note 8), at 54–56; Wolfrum (note 1), at 372, and very much in detail
L. Rodriguez-Piňero, Indigenous Peoples, Postcolonialism, and International Law: The
ILO Regime 1919–1989, at 145–213 (2005).
 the protection of indigenous peoples479

and compensating them for the enormous injustice (and losses) they
had suffered in colonial times, but was directed towards the assimila-
tion of indigenous populations into the newly independent nations,
making them part and parcel of modern post-colonial society.10 The
socio-economic and political evolution of post-colonial statehood in
most countries of the third world, however, proved that the objectives
of ILO Convention No.107 were rather illusionary. Not only did mod-
ernization and the attempted assimilation of indigenous peoples not
solve their problems, problems linked to social and economic margin-
alization, alienation from traditional ways of life, customs and cultural
heritage, and the environmental degradation of the territories they had
once inhabited, but modernization of society and the attempted assim-
ilation of indigenous peoples in most cases even aggravated social dis-
crimination and political marginalization.11

B. International Legal Standards from a Human Rights

Perspective

It thus has some logic that the very specific problems of legal protection
of indigenous peoples first came to the surface in the 1960s in the con-
text of the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms
of Racial Discrimination of 1966, an instrument dedicated to fighting
discrimination on racial or ethnic grounds. The treaty-body of the
Convention, the Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination
(CERD), of which Rüdiger Wolfrum has long been a member, has
always taken a particular interest in the protection of indigenous peo-
ples, as Rüdiger Wolfrum reminds us briefly in his article.12 CERD even
adopted in 1997 a General Recommendation on the rights of indige-
nous peoples, which calls upon states “to recognize and protect the
rights of indigenous peoples to own, develop, control and use their
communal lands, territories and resources”.13

10
See Anaya (note 8), at 55; K. Göcke, Völkerrechtssubjektivität indigener Völker,
in: J. Bäumler et al. (eds.), Akteure in Krieg und Frieden, 166, at 171 (2010);
H.-J. Heintze, Indigene Völker und das Selbstbestimmungsrecht, in: P. Hilpold (ed.),
Das Selbstbestimmungsrecht der Völker, 159, at 162–63 (2009).
11
See Keal (note 4), at 156–184; Göcke (note 10), at 171–72.
12
Wolfrum (note 1), at 371.
13
See CERD, General Recommendation XXIII Concerning Indigenous Peoples,
UN Doc. CERD/C/51/misc.13/Rev.4 (1997), reprinted in Anaya (note 8), at 341–42;
see also M. O’Flaherty, The Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination,
480 stefan oeter

A similar concern has been visible in the context of the monitoring

activities of the UN Human Rights Committee, the treaty-body under
the 1966 International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR).
Although the Covenant does not deal specifically with the rights of
indigenous peoples, it at least provides (in Art. 27 ICCPR) for the
protection of those belonging to ethnic, religious and linguistic
minorities. By the phrase “in community with other members of their
group”, Art. 27 ICCPR indicates some degree of protection not only to
individuals, but also for the group as such.14 Indigenous peoples have
never considered themselves as minorities in a technical sense of inter-
national law since they believe that such status is inappropriate and
would not do their specific needs justice,15 but this has not hindered the
UN Human Rights Committee in making use of Art. 27 ICCPR as a
tool for protecting some basic rights of indigenous peoples.16 A remark-
able landmark case in this regard has been the Canadian case of the
Lubikon Lake Cree17–an Indian tribe which felt threatened by private
oil, gas and timber development of Cree lands concessioned by the fed-
eral and provincial governments. The Human Rights Committee
agreed that the current developments of commercial exploitation
threatened the way of life and culture of the Lubicon Lake Band, and
would thus constitute a violation of Article 27 so long as they
continued.18

C. ILO Convention 169

According to conventional wisdom, the 1989 ILO Convention 169

(ILO Convention Concerning Indigenous and Tribal Peoples
in Independent Countries) constituted the major breakthrough in

in: S. Pritchard (ed.), Indigenous Peoples, the United Nations and Human Rights,
at 151 (1998).
14
Wolfrum (note 1), at 371.
15
See Keal (note 4), at 115, 142; and G. Alfredsson, Minorities, Indigenous and
Tribal Peoples, and Peoples, in: N. Ghanea (ed.), Minorities, Peoples, and Self-
Determination. Essays in Honour of Patrick Thornberry, at 163 (2005).
16
See Anaya (note 8), at 253; S. Pritchard, The International Covenant on Civil and
Political Rights and Indigenous Peoples, in: S. Pritchard (ed.), Indigenous Peoples, the
United Nations and Human Rights, at 184 (1998).
17
See UN Human Rights Committee, Chief Bernard Ominayak and the Lubicon
Lake Band v. Canada, UN Doc. A/45/40, Vol. II, App. A.
18
See also Anaya (note 8), at 254–256; Manfred Nowak, UN Covenant on Civil and
Political Rights: CCPR Commentary, at 492 et seq. (1993).
 the protection of indigenous peoples481

attempts towards specific standard-setting.19 This Convention aims at

revising the (outdated) 1957 ILO Convention 107 by replacing its
paternalistic, assimilationist approach with a more modern approach
based upon the principle of preserving multiculturalism.20 The change
is visible already in the official titles of both conventions: while
ILO Convention 107 is dedicated to the protection and integration
of “Indigenous and Other Tribal and Semi-Tribal Populations in
Independent Countries”, ILO Convention 169 now speaks explicitly
of “Indigenous and Tribal Peoples in Independent Countries”, a for-
mula which clearly has some connotations of peoples enjoying the
right to self-determination.21 The operative text of ILO Convention
169 demonstrates, however, that states were at a certain unease with
such connotation, since they agreed in its Art. 1 III: “The use of the
term ‘peoples’ in this Convention shall not be construed as having any
implications as regards the rights which may attach to the term under
international law”.
The changes in wording nevertheless indicate a change in the
basic approach. Admittedly, ILO Convention 169, too, still largely
follows a relatively traditional perspective of human rights and non-
discrimination. Provisions banning various forms of discrimination
constitute an important part of the convention.22 The first articles in the
operative part already deal with non-discrimination, with Art. 3 para.1
obliging the States Parties to ensure that members of indigenous peo-
ples are not discriminated against in the enjoyment of their human
rights, and Art. 4 para. 3 demanding from States Parties that “enjoy-
ment of the general rights of citizenship, without discrimination, shall
not be prejudiced in any way” by the various special measures adopted
in accordance with Art. 4 para.1 by States Parties “for safeguarding the
persons, institutions, property, labour, cultures and environment of the
peoples concerned”. The scope of the special measures which States
Parties are obliged to develop is further described in Art. 2.

19
See L. Swepston, A New Step in the International Law on Indigenous and Tribal
Peoples: ILO Convention No. 169 of 1989, 15 Oklahoma City University Law Review
677, at 677 et seq. (1990); Anaya (note 8), at 58–61; A. Yupsanis, ILO Convention
No. 169 Concerning Indigenous and Tribal Peoples in Independent Countries, 79
Nordic J. of Int’l. L. 433 (2010).
20
Wolfrum (note 1), at 371–72, and Rodriguez-Piňero (note 9), at 291–330.
21
See also H.-J. Heintze, The Protection of Indigenous Peoples under the ILO
Convention, in: M. Bothe et al. (eds.), Amazonia and Siberia, at 310 et seq. (1993).
22
See also Anaya (note 8), at 59.
482 stefan oeter

“Co-ordinated and systematic action to protect the rights of indige-

nous peoples and to guarantee respect for their integrity” is required
from them–action which includes measures for “ensuring that mem-
bers of these peoples benefit on an equal footing from the rights and
opportunities which national laws and regulations grant to other mem-
bers of the population”, as well as measures for “assisting the members
of the peoples concerned to eliminate socio-economic gaps that may
exist between indigenous and other members of the national commu-
nity”.23 The latter type of action goes beyond mere legal prohibition of
discrimination; it requires States Parties to develop measures designed
to overcome the various forms of factual discrimination which often
hit members of indigenous peoples. Some of the measures needed to
overcome discrimination in public life, in employment, social security,
health services and education are operationalized in further detail in
various specific provisions.24 Of specific importance are the provisions
on education, which state that children belonging to indigenous peo-
ples “shall, wherever practicable, be taught to read and write in their
own indigenous language”.25 At the same time, however, “adequate
measures shall be taken to ensure that these peoples have the opportu-
nity to attain fluency in the national language or in one of the official
languages of the country”26–without such fluency members of indige-
nous peoples would have no chance of enjoying full participation in the
labour market and social life outside their community.
Unlike its predecessor, ILO Convention 169 goes beyond these anti-
discrimination provisions by incorporating a long list of obligations
which strive for the preservation of the identity and the special cul-
tures, customs, traditions and values of indigenous peoples–provisions
which clearly provide for collective rights.27 A number of provisions
of the convention explicitly refer to customs, traditions and values
of indigenous peoples and seek to protect them against erosion by vari-
ous demands coming from state actions, but also social and economic

23
Art. 2 para. 2 (a) and (c) of ILO Convention 169; see also Wolfrum (note 1),
at 372.
24
See in particular Art. 20 para. 2 of ILO Convention 169 (discrimination in
employment), Art. 24 of ILO Convention 169 (social security); Art. 21 of ILO
Convention 169 (vocational training) and Art. 26 of ILO Convention 169 (school edu-
cation); compare also Wolfrum (note 1), at 372–373.
25
Art. 28 para. 1 of ILO Convention 169.
26
Art. 28 para. 2 of ILO Convention 169.
27
See also Heintze (note 10), at 164.
 the protection of indigenous peoples483

life.28 Another set of provisions is targeted towards decision-making

procedures, in trying indirectly to protect the specific identities and
cultures of indigenous peoples by providing that certain decisions hav-
ing an impact upon identity and culture shall not be taken without the
consent of the people concerned. The programmatic formula describ-
ing the added value of ILO Convention 169 (in comparison to ILO
Convention 107) is contained in Art. 5, which emphasizes firstly (in its
lit. (a)) that “the social, cultural, religious and spiritual values and prac-
tices of these peoples shall be recognised and protected, and due
account shall be taken of the nature of the problems which face them
both as groups and as individuals”. In lit. (b) of Art. 5 States Parties
oblige themselves to respect “the integrity of the values, practices and
institutions” of indigenous peoples, whilst in lit. (c) they undergo an
obligation that “policies aimed at mitigating the difficulties experi-
enced by these peoples in facing new conditions of life and work shall
be adopted, with the participation and co-operation of the peoples
affected”. Both lines sketched out in these programmatic formulations
are further spelled out in the following articles. Articles 9 and 10 lay
down, for example, that in applying their national criminal law States
Parties shall “to the extent compatible with the national legal system
and internationally recognised human rights”, respect “the methods
customarily practised by the peoples concerned for dealing with
offences committed by their members”,29 and in imposing penalties,
“account shall be taken of their economic, social and cultural charac-
teristics”.30 Articles 6 and 7, on the other hand, provide for a number of
mechanisms of consultation, of participation in political decision-
making and of establishing means for the full development of indige-
nous peoples’ own institutions and initiatives (including the provision
of the necessary resources).31
An important issue is land rights.32 An entire part of ILO Convention
169 is dedicated to this subject (Part II–Art.13–19). Art. 13 para. 1

28
See also Anaya (note 8), at 59, as well as M. Ahrén, Indigenous Peoples’ Culture,
Customs, and Traditions and Customary Law: The Saami People’s Perspective, 21
Arizona J. of Int’l. & Comp. L. 63 (2004).
29
Art. 9 para. 1 of ILO Convention 169.
30
Art. 10 para. 1 of ILO Convention 169.
31
See also Wolfrum (note 1), at 374.
32
See very much in detail J. Gilbert, Indigenous Peoples’ Land Rights under
International Law, in particular at 102–108 (2006); see also S. J. Anaya, Divergent
Discourses about International Law, Indigenous Peoples, and Rights over Lands and
484 stefan oeter

reminds States Parties that land rights and issues of land use are of
utmost importance for sustaining the identity of indigenous peoples
and calls upon them to “respect the special importance for the cultures
and spiritual values of the peoples concerned of their relationship with
the lands and territories”.33 The following articles further elaborate the
obligations resulting from such respect. States are obliged to recognize
the ownership or possession of land of the indigenous peoples con-
cerned and to safeguard the rights of indigenous peoples to natural
resources pertaining to their lands.34 The Convention also provides
that the peoples concerned shall not be removed from the lands they
occupy. Where such relocation is necessary as an exceptional measure,
the peoples concerned shall have a right to return.35 “Whenever possi-
ble, these peoples shall have the right to return to their traditional
lands, as soon as the grounds for relocation cease to exist.36 When such
return is not possible, they shall receive compensation “with lands of
quality and legal status at least equal to that of the lands previously
occupied by them, suitable to provide for their present needs and future
development”.37 States shall also respect the “procedures established by
the peoples concerned for the transmission of land rights among mem-
bers of these peoples.”
In some provisions ILO Convention 169 goes even further than
guaranteeing land rights and providing for participation in decision-
making procedures affecting indigenous peoples. The rights guaran-
teed in Art. 7 para. 1 “to decide their own priorities for the process of
development” and “to exercise control, to the extent possible, over their
own economic, social and cultural development” may even be read as
the nucleus of a right to have some kind of institutional autonomy.38
Admittedly, the formulation of the rights under Art. 7 para. 1 is not
very clear in that regard, but a certain tendency in that direction is dis-
cernible in the wording used. In one specific field, that of education,

Natural Resources, 16 Colorado J. of Int’l. Environmental L. & Policy 237 (2005);

A. Duffy, Indigenous Peoples’ Land Rights, 15 Int’l. J. on Minority and Group Rights
505 (2008); G. Ulfstein, Indigenous Peoples’ Right to Land, 8 Max Planck Yearbook of
United Nations Law 1(2004).
33
Art. 13 para. 1 of ILO Convention 169.
34
Arts 14 and 15 of ILO Convention 169.
35
See also Gilbert (note 32), at 142–157.
36
Art. 16 para. 3 of ILO Convention 169.
37
Art. 16 para. 4 of ILO Convention 169.
38
See in this sense Wolfrum (note 1), at 374.
 the protection of indigenous peoples485

ILO Convention 169 provides for an explicit right to run autonomous

institutions, in laying down that “In addition, governments shall recog-
nise the right of these peoples to establish their own educational insti-
tutions and facilities, provided that such institutions meet minimum
standards established by the competent authority in consultation with
these peoples. Appropriate resources shall be provided for this pur-
pose.”39 All in all, however, ILO Convention 169 is rather cautiously
worded concerning any kind of right approaching some form of politi-
cal self-organization or self-rule of indigenous peoples.
A similar degree of caution is visible concerning measures of affirm-
ative action.40 Some of the provisions may be construed as providing
for types of affirmative action, like the obligation under Art. 20 para. 1
to provide for special measures to ensure the effective protection of
members of indigenous peoples as far as recruitment and conditions of
employment are concerned, or the right guaranteed under Art. 23 para.
2 that, upon the specific request of indigenous peoples, “appropriate
technical and financial assistance shall be provided wherever possible”
further to develop their traditional economic activities. When analysed
in detail, however, these provisions do not go beyond the usual type of
positive measures provided for under international human rights
instruments to cope with structural discrimination.
To sum up, ILO Convention 169 transcends traditional guarantees
on non-discrimination, opens up the pathway towards new types of
guarantees intended to protect the specific identity and culture of
indigenous peoples, but remains rather cautious in spelling out what
this may really mean when pushing it to its logical end.

D. The Way Towards the UN Declaration on the Rights

of Indigenous Peoples

The new approach underlying ILO Convention 169 found its expres-
sion during the 1990s also in other international legal documents. They
were dedicated to much more specific issues than ILO Convenion 169
but continued the new path of standard-setting. One such document is
the 1992 Rio Convention on Biological Diversity.41 The Rio Convention,

39
Art. 27 para. 3 of ILO Convention 169.
40
See also Wolfrum (note 1), at 374.
41
31 ILM 818 (1992).
486 stefan oeter

as well as the underlying Rio Declaration and the more detailed envi-
ronmental programme and policy statement known as Agenda 21,
starts from the idea that traditional indigenous techniques and knowl-
edge are essential to the preservation of biological diversity and sus-
tainable development.42 States Parties under the Rio Convention are
obliged to respect, preserve and maintain knowledge, innovations and
practices of individuals and local communities embodying traditional
lifestyles. The Convention also provides that indigenous peoples shall
participate in the economic benefits deriving from the utilization of
their knowledge or practices.43 Some agreements operationalizing the
provision have been concluded already with indigenous peoples pro-
viding their knowledge in exchange for a share in the economic
benefits.44
Another legal development worth mentioning is the scheme of
protection which has evolved in the context of the World Bank as
an answer to the challenge of how to protect the specific interests of
indigenous peoples in the framework of development assistance pro-
jects.45 In 1991 the World Bank adopted Operational Directive 4.20,46
which had been drafted as a result of a period of expert study trying
to find a suitable response to the problem that industrial develop-
ment projects financed by the World Bank often had damaging
effects on indigenous peoples. With the directive the World Bank
pursues two different but interrelated objectives: to ensure that indig-
enous peoples benefit from development projects and to avoid or
mitigate potentially adverse effects on indigenous peoples caused by
World Bank-financed projects. The policy laid out in the directive takes
a procedural approach in obliging the responsible organs to take the
interests of indigenous peoples into consideration and balance them
with the competing interests of economic development, a process

42
See Anaya (note 8), at 67, and–very much in detail–J. Firestone / J. Lilley /
I. Torres de Noronha, Cultural Diversity, Human Rights, and the Emergence of
Indigenous Peoples in International and Comparative Environmental Law, 20
American Univ. Int’l. L. Rev. 219 (2004).
43
See Wolfrum (note 1), at 375.
44
See Wolfrum (note 1), at 375.
45
See Anaya (note 8), at 67; A. Spiliopoulou Åkermark, The World Bank and
Indigenous Peoples, in: N. Ghanea (ed.), Minorities, Peoples, and Self-Determination.
Essays in Honour of Patrick Thornberry, at 93 (2005).
46
See Operational Directive Indigenous Peoples, The World Bank Operational
Manual, September 1991, OD 4.20.
 the protection of indigenous peoples487

which must be based on the informed participation of the indigenous

populations themselves.47
A further important step towards embedding rights of indigenous
peoples in the institutional structure of the international community
was the creation, in 2000, of the Permanent Forum on Indigenous
Issues in the framework of the UN.48 Such step had already been envis-
aged by the 1993 Vienna World Conference on Human Rights, since
there was a widespread perception that existing international institu-
tions and procedures were inadequate fully to address the concerns of
indigenous peoples (and to give them an adequate voice in the process
of international law).49 It was some years before the UN bodies could
agree on such a forum, but with a resolution of July 28, 2000, the
ECOSOC decided to create it as a subsidiary organ.50 The forum first
came together in 2002 and since then has developed a quite dynamic
and fruitful activity. Unlike practically all the relevant bodies existing
before it, the Permanent Forum has a relatively wide mandate–to advise
and make recommendations to the ECOSOC specifically on indigenous
issues and to promote awareness and coordination of the relevant activ-
ities within the UN system. In addition–and this really constitutes a
novelty–half of its sixteen members are named by the President of
ECOSOC in consultation with indigenous organizations, with the
expectation that they will be leaders of indigenous organizations or
peoples (as has become standing practice). The Permanent Forum also
opens its meetings to representatives of indigenous peoples and sup-
port groups from throughout the world, making its meetings really a
vast forum for representatives of indigenous peoples from all parts of
the world.51
However, the grand programmatic document on the rights of indig-
enous peoples which had been envisaged by representatives of indige-
nous peoples and by most academic experts since the 1980s, notoriously
known as the Draft Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples,

47
See Wolfrum (note 1), at 375; Keal (note 4), at 116; S. Errico, The World Bank and
Indigenous Peoples, 13 Int’l. J. on Minority and Group Rights 367 (2006); F. MacKay,
Universal Rights or a Universe unto Itself? Indigenous Peoples’ Human Rights and the
World Bank’s Draft Operational Policy 4.10 on Indigenous Peoples, 17 American Univ.
Int’l. L. Rev. 527 (2002).
48
See Anaya (note 8), at 219–20.
49
Id., at 219.
50
See ECOSOC Res. E/RES/2000/22 (28 July 2000).
51
See Anaya (note 8), at 220.
488 stefan oeter

proved to be a rather cumbersome enterprise.52 Not that the experts

could not agree on a suitable text. But to build the necessary political
consensus among states which was needed to have the Declaration
adopted by the UN General Assembly seemed for a long time to be
nearly a mission impossible.53 The basis for such project had been laid at
a very early stage. As early as in 1971, the ECOSOC had authorized the
UN Sub-Commission on Prevention of Discrimination and Protection
of Minorities to conduct a study on the Problem of Discrimination
against Indigenous Peoples.54 The resulting work by Special Rapporteur
José Martinez Cobo was issued originally as a series of partial reports
from 1981 to 1983. The study compiled extensive data on indigenous
peoples worldwide and made a series of findings and recommenda-
tions generally supportive of the demands of indigenous peoples.55
Upon the recommendation of the Martinez Cobo study (supported by
most indigenous peoples’ representatives), the UN Human Rights
Commission and the ECOSOC in 1982 approved the establishment of
a UN Working Group on Indigenous Populations.56 Through its policy
of open participation–it allowed representatives of indigenous peoples
and organizations to be present at its meetings–the working group
became an important platform for the dissemination of information
and the exchange of views among indigenous peoples, governments
and NGOs.57
The working group very quickly came up with the idea of drafting a
declaration on the rights of indigenous peoples for adoption by the UN
General Assembly, an idea supported by the sub-commission. In 1988,
the working group chair produced the first complete draft of the decla-
ration, taking up a lot of proposals submitted by representatives of
indigenous peoples.58 It took some further five years until, in 1993, the
working group could complete its final draft for consideration by its

52
See the brief description of the declaration’s drafting history given by Anaya (note
8), at 63–66; see also A. Willemsen-Diaz, How Indigenous Rights Reached the UN, in:
C. Charters / R. Stavenhagen (eds.), Making the Declaration Work: The United Nations
Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, at 16–31 (2009).
53
See also Wolfrum (note 1), at 375–378.
54
See Anaya (note 8), at 62.
55
Id.
56
Id., at 63.
57
Id., at 63; see also S. Pritchard, Working Group on Indigenous Populations, in:
S. Pritchard (ed.), Indigenous Peoples, the United Nations and Human Rights, at 40–64
(1998).
58
See Anaya (note 8), at 63.
 the protection of indigenous peoples489

parent bodies within the United Nations.59 After the sub-commission

had adopted the working group draft and had submitted it to the UN
Human Rights Commission in 1994, a new level of discussion started.
Although states had already been involved in the discussions on the
working group draft, its content had been mostly influenced by pro-
posals from indigenous peoples themselves and by a vast input from
experts. In a way, the widespread participation of indigenous peoples
in the drafting work for over a decade had become a watershed in nor-
mative discourse, since it had provided an important means for indig-
enous peoples first to develop and then promote their own conceptions
of their rights within the international arena.60 But when the product of
such drafting was presented to the UN Human Rights Commission, a
body of government representatives, the discussion took a clearly
political shape. Many governments showed strong unease about, if not
outright resistance to, the basic conceptions underlying the draft decla-
ration. A major point of resistance was the strong role which concepts
of self-determination played in the draft declaration.61 After decades
during which self-determination discourse had been compeletely
obsessed with problems of decolonization, governments tended to
identify self-determination with independent statehood; but inde-
pendent statehood definitely was not the adequate answer to the spe-
cific problems of indigenous peoples.62 Self-determination as a
conceptual backbone of the draft declaration was more or less unnego-
tiable for representatives of indigenous peoples–but as long as states
tended to identify self-determination with the quest for independent
statehood, their consent was illusory.63 It needed a conceptual turn to
break the deadlock.64 Only at a time when self-determination discourse

59
Id.; see also A. Eide, The Indigenous Peoples, the Working Group on Indigenous
Populations and the Adoption of the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous
Peoples, in: C. Charters/ R. Stavenhagen (eds.), Making the Declaration Work: The
United Nations Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, at 32–47 (2009).
60
Id., at 64.
61
See, in particular, R. L. Barsh, Indigenous Peoples in the 1990s: From Object to
Subject of International Law, 7 Harvard Human Rights Journal 782, at 796 et seq.
(1994).
62
See Wolfrum (note 1), at 381; Anaya (note 8), at 110–115.
63
See, in particular, Keal (note 4), at 126–147; J. Castellino, Conceptual Difficulties
and the Right to Indigenous Self-Determination, in: N. Ghanea (ed.), Minorities,
Peoples, and Self-Determination. Essays in Honour of Patrick Thornberry, at 55–74
(2005); J. K. Das, The Right of Self-Determination of Indigenous Peoples: Developing
Dynamics of Human Rights, 43 Indian J. of Int’l. L. 705 (2003).
64
See also M. C. Lâm, At the Edge of the State: Indigenous Peoples and Self-
Determination, at 143–181 (2000).
490 stefan oeter

in the international arena tended to stress more and more the aspects
of internal self-determination, while marginalizing the aspects of exter-
nal self-determination, i.e. secession and independent statehood, could
the draft declaration as it had been formulated by experts in the 1980s
hope to find the necessary support in the community of states.65 It is
thus no surprise that more than a decade was needed for states to
accept the draft and declare themselves to be willing to adopt it. It took
until 2006 for the (now) UN Human Rights Council to adopt the
revised text.66 With resolution 61/295 of 13 Sept. 2007, the UN General
Assembly solemnly adopted the final version of the UN Declaration of
the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.67

E. The UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous

Peoples–Revolution or Business as Usual?

In its language the UN Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples

diverges considerably from earlier international legal documents. The
language of self-determination plays a prominent role in the new docu-
ment.68 Many details tell us that. The notion peoples in the title of the
document is not in its implications any more explicitly limited than in
ILO Convention 169 with its Art. 1 para. 3. The preambular part as well
as the operational part routinely uses the concept of self-determination
and reorganizes the various categories of (collective) rights of indige-
nous peoples, linking a series of them (quite rightly) to various aspects

65
See also A. Eide, Rights of Indigenous Peoples: Achievements in International
Law During the Last Quarter of a Century, 37 Netherlands Yearbook of International
Law 155 (2007); and F. Lenzerini, Sovereignty Revisited: International Law and Parallel
Sovereignty of Indigenous Peoples, 42 Texas Int’l. L. J. 155 (2006).
66
See GAOR, 61st. Sess., Suppl. 5, UN Doc. A/61/53 (2007), Part One, Chap. II,
Sect. A.
67
 GA Res. 61/295 of 13 September 2007.
68
See, as an overview of the achievements of the UN Declaration, S. Wiesner, The
United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, in: A. Constantinides
/ N. Zaikos (eds.), The Diversity of International Law. Essays in Honour of Kalliopi
K. Koufa, at 343 (2009); J. Hartley / P. Joffe / J. Preston, Realizing the UN Declaration
on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (2010); J.B. Henriksen, The UN Declaration on
the Rights of Indigneous Peoples: Some Key Issues and Events in the Process, in:
C. Charters / R. Stavenhagen (eds.), Making the Declaration Work: The United Nations
Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, at 78 (2009); V. Prasad, The UN
Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, 9 Chicago J. of Int’l. L. 297 (2008);
J. Gilbert, Indigenous Rights in the Making: The United Nations Declaration on the
Rights of Indigenous Peoples, 14 Int’l. J. of Minority and Group Rights 207 (2007).
 the protection of indigenous peoples491

of self-determination. As a result of such reconceptualization, a major

part of the more recent generations of indigenous rights, oriented
towards preserving the specific identity and culture of indigenous peo-
ples, may be qualified as results and–in a way–more concrete deduc-
tions from claims of self-determination. Self-determination in this
context is obviously phrased as mere internal self-determination69–but
in conjugating through what internal self-determination might sensi-
bly mean, the declaration delivers an important contribution to the
doctrine of self-determination.
At the same time, however, the Declaration inevitably constitutes a
restatement of the wide array of more traditional (individual) human
rights of members of indigenous peoples as codified in international
human rights instruments and ILO Convention 169.70 Art. 1 already
emphasizes, “Indigenous peoples have the right to the full enjoyment,
as a collective or as individuals, of all human rights and fundamental
freedoms as recognized by the Charter of the United Nations, the
Universal Declaration of Human Rights and international human
rights law.” Art. 2, in addition, insists upon the right to be free from any
kind of discrimination. A series of other articles in the declaration
mention individual human rights, such as the right to life, physical and
mental integrity, liberty and security of person,71 the right not to be
subjected to forced assimilation,72 the right to belong to an indigenous
community or nation,73 the right to enjoy fully all rights established
under applicable international and domestic labour law,74 the right to
the highest attainable standard of physical and mental health75 and cer-
tain educational rights.76
A superficial look at the wording of these rights, however, already
demonstrates a particularity of the UN Declaration on the Rights of

69
See E. D. Titanji, The Right of Indigenous Peoples to Self-Determination versus
Secession, 9 African Human Rights L. J. 52 (2009); see also A. E. C. F. Tupaz, Self-
Determination as “Defined” under the United Nations Draft Declaration on the Rights
of Indigenous Peoples–Secession or Autonomy?, 51 Ateneo L.J. 1039 (2007).
70
See recently S. J. Anaya, International Human Rights and Indigenous Peoples
(2009), revisiting the human rights protection of indigenous peoples in the light of the
2007 UN Declaration.
71
Art. 7 para.1 of the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.
72
Art. 8 para.1 of the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.
73
Art. 9 of the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.
74
Art. 17 of the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.
75
Art. 24 para. 2 of the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.
76
See e.g. Articles 12–15 of the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.
492 stefan oeter

Indigenous Peoples. All the rights mentioned above are formulated

as individual as well as collective rights. When one analyses the decla-
ration in more detail, it becomes clear that the emphasis is deliber-
ately put upon the aspect of collective rights, or–to cite a formula of
Rüdiger Wolfrum–the “emphasis on collective rights and rights of peo-
ples is a dominant feature” of the Declaration.77 Like ILO Convention
169, which in a way is an offspring of the deliberations on the UN
Declaration,78 the document places strong emphasis upon the right of
indigenous peoples to preserve their group identity–a right which sen-
sibly can only be formulated as a collective right. A number of different
aspects of this right are addressed in the text of the Declaration: the
right of indigenous peoples to practise and revitalize their traditions
and customs (Art. 11); the right to manifest, practise, develop and
teach their spiritual and religious traditions, customs and ceremonies
(Art. 12); the right to revitalize, use, develop and transmit to future
generations their histories, languages, oral traditions, philosophies,
writing systems and literatures (Art. 13); the right to establish and con-
trol their own educational systems and institutions providing educa-
tion in their own languages (Art. 14); the right to have the dignity and
diversity of their cultures and traditions reflected in public education
(Art. 15); the right to establish their own media in their languages (Art.
16); the right to traditional medicines and to maintain their health
practices (Art. 24).
Land rights are another matter of priority as far as the objective of
preservation of the identity of indigenous peoples is concerned. Such
rights in relation to land title and land use, with the aim of safeguard-
ing the rights of indigenous peoples to the land they occupy, were
already developed in the 1989 ILO Convention 169–but the 2007
Declaration now goes much further than the state of discussion
reflected in the 1989 Convention.79 Art. 25 takes up the main idea
underlying part II of ILO Convention 169, by stressing that indigenous
peoples “have the right to maintain their distinctive spiritual relation-
ship with their traditionally owned or otherwise occupied and used

77
See Wolfrum (note 1), at 376.
78
See Anaya (note 8), at 64–65.
79
See M. Ahrén, The Provisions on Lands, Territories and Natural Resources in the
UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, in: C. Charters / R. Stavenhagen
(eds.), Making the Declaration Work: The United Nations Declaration of the Rights of
Indigenous Peoples, at 200 (2009).
 the protection of indigenous peoples493

lands, territories, waters and coastal seas and other resources, and to
uphold their responsibilities to future generations in this regard”. In
spelling out the consequences of such a basic approach, the UN
Declaration of 2007 is much more explicit than the 1989 ILO
Convention. The Declaration confirms the “right to own, use, develop
and control the lands, territories and resources that they possess by
reason of traditional ownership or other traditional occupation or
use”.80 States shall “establish and implement, in conjunction with indig-
enous peoples concerned, a fair, independent, impartial, open and
transparent process, giving due recognition to indigenous peoples’
laws, traditions, customs and land tenure systems …”.81 Indigenous
peoples shall also have–and this seems to go clearly beyond what Art.
16 ILO Convention 169 guaranteed–“the right to redress, by means
that can include restitution or, when this is not possible, just, fair and
equitable compensation, for the lands, territories and resources which
they have traditionally owned or otherwise occupied or used, and
which have been confiscated, taken, occupied, used or damaged with-
out their free, prior and informed consent”.82 ILO Convention 169 safe-
guards rights concerning only the land indigenous peoples occupy at
present. The relevant article of the UN Declaration no longer contains
a limiting clause in that regard. At the same time, it can hardly be
denied, as Rüdiger Wolfrum put it in 1999, “that it will be impossible to
return land to indigenous peoples which they lost in past centuries”.83
It should be borne in mind, however, “that the process of depriving
indigenous peoples of their land rights is not a historic event but
one which has continued in the last decades and still takes place”.84
The rigid exclusion of a retroactive application of restitution concepts
thus would not do justice to the dismal way in which states dealt with

80
Art. 26 para. 2 of the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples;
as far as the right to natural resources is concerned, see E.-I. Daes, Indigenous
Peoples’ Rights to their Natural Resources, in: A. Constantinides / N. Zaikos (eds.),
The Diversity of International Law. Essays in Honour of Kalliopi K. Koufa, at 363
(2009).
81
Art. 27 of the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.
82
Art. 28 para. 1 of the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples;
see also D. Fautsch, An Analysis of Article 28 of the United Nations Declaration on
the Rights of Indigenous Peoples and Proposals for Reform, 31 Michigan J. of Int’l.
L. 449 (2010).
83
See Wolfrum (note 1), at 382.
84
Id.
494 stefan oeter

indigenous peoples’ lands in the recent past.85 “In this respect an equi-
table solution still is to be designed.”86 As a complementary corollary of
land rights, Art. 29 of the UN Declaration finally guarantees indige-
nous peoples “the right to the conservation and protection of the envi-
ronment and the productive capacity of their lands or territories and
resources”.87
These guarantees already go far beyond what had been codified in
earlier international legal documents. But the really revolutionary
aspect of the 2007 UN Declaration is the prominent role that self-
determination plays in it. As early as at the beginning of the operative
part, in Art. 3, it is laid down that “Indigenous peoples have the right to
self-determination. By virtue of that right they freely determine their
political status and freely pursue their economic, social and cultural
development.” And Art. 4 continues, in giving some more concrete
contours to what is meant by the right of self-determination, “Indigenous
peoples, in exercising their right to self-determination, have the right
to autonomy or self-government in matters relating to their internal
and local affairs, as well as ways and means for financing their autono-
mous functions.” A significant number of the more detailed provisions
in the operative part can be understood as an attempt to spell out what
such autonomy or self-government might mean.88 This already begins
with Art. 5: “Indigenous peoples have the right to maintain
and strengthen their distinct political, legal, economic, social and cul-
tural institutions …”. And it continues with Art. 20 which provides:
“Indigenous peoples have the right to maintain and develop their polit-
ical, economic and social systems or institutions, to be secure in the
enjoyment of their own means of subsistence and development, and
to engage freely in all their traditional and other economic activities.”
The aspect of developing their systems and institutions is further
elaborated in Art. 21, where a right is formulated “to the improvement
of their economic and social conditions, including, inter alia, in the
areas of education, employment, vocational training and retraining,
housing, sanitation, health and social security”. In addition, Art. 23

85
See Gilbert (note 32), at 157–163; and, even more in detail, F. Lenzerini (ed.),
Reparations for Indigenous Peoples (2008).
86
See Wolfrum (note 1), at 382.
87
See L. Heinämäki, Protecting the Rights of Indigenous Peoples: Promoting the
Sustainability of the Global Environment?, 11 Int’l. Community L. Rev. 3 (2009).
88
See also Gilbert (note 32), at 199–249.
 the protection of indigenous peoples495

guarantees indigenous peoples the right “to determine and develop

priorities and strategies for exercising their right to development”.
Art. 23 goes into even more detail when providing that “indigenous
peoples have the right to be actively involved in developing and deter-
mining health, housing and other economic and social programmes
affecting them and, as far as possible, to administer such programmes
through their own institutions.” Art. 32 heads in the same direction of
an autonomous process of decision-making in guaranteeing indige-
nous peoples “the right to determine and develop priorities and strate-
gies for the development or use of their lands”,89 as does Art. 31 on the
“right to maintain, control, protect and develop their cultural heritage,
traditional knowledge and traditional cultural expressions …”. In the
same context Art. 14 may also be mentioned again, as it provides that
indigenous peoples “have the right to establish and control their educa-
tional systems and institutions”.
Specific expressions of the concepts of autonomy or self-government
are also provisions like Art. 33, laying down that indigenous peoples
“have the right to determine their own identity or membership in
accordance with their customs and traditions”, which is further elabo-
rated in para. 2: “Indigenous peoples have the right to determine
the structures and to select the membership of their institutions in
accordance with their own procedures”. The idea of Art. 20 is also
again taken up in Art. 34 where it is provided that indigenous peo-
ples “have the right to promote, develop and maintain their institu-
tional structures and their distinctive customs, spirituality, traditions,
procedures, practices and, in the cases where they exist, juridical sys-
tems or customs, in accordance with international human rights stand-
ards.”90 This clause already points to a potential limit of autonomy.
Traditional legal systems and customs of indigenous peoples will in a
number of cases conflict with modern concepts of universal human
rights protection.91 How to cope with such a conflict of legal norms and
values is an open issue which needs further discussion. Probably inter-
national law will have to develop a scheme balancing the competing
interests.

89
As to this aspect see in particular Gilbert (note 32), at 209–215, 226–231,
247–249.
90
See also T. G. Svensson, Interlegality, a Process for Strengthening Indigenous
Peoples’ Autonomy, 51 J. of Legal Pluralism and Unofficial Law 51 (2005).
91
See Keal (note 4), at 136–141.
496 stefan oeter

F. The Legal Relevance of the UN Declaration on the

Rights of Indigenous Peoples

As the preceding passage has made clear, the lengthy negotiation–and

in the end the successful adoption–of the UN Declaration on the Rights
of Indigenous Peoples as a solemn declaration adopted by an over-
whelming majority92 constitutes a paradigmatic shift in international
legal discourse on the rights of indigenous peoples. Whereas the
emphasis in the early decades was more or less solely on an individual
human rights perspective, trying to protect members of indigenous
peoples mostly against deeply rooted forms of discrimination, the
recent debate has shifted the emphasis to a large degree upon aspects of
collective rights.93 The 2007 UN Declaration still contains a layer of
individual human rights, but its main concern lies with collective rights
of indigenous peoples.94 As far as issues of land rights and land use, but
also of the preservation of the specific identity and of inherited tradi-
tions, customs and cultures are concerned, the Declaration can build
upon the achievements of the 1989 ILO Convention 169.95 In a series of
detailed points, the UN Declaration of 2007 goes much further than
the 1989 ILO Convention. The real innovation of the Declaration, how-
ever, is to be found in its emphasis upon self-determination.96 After a
long and cumbersome discursive struggle going on for more than two
decades, states have given in and accepted the primordial role of con-
cepts of self-determination for the normative construction of the
Declaration. The right of indigenous peoples to self-determination in a
way constitutes the conceptual core of the declaration’s construction.
The Declaration does not limit itself to mentioning self-determination
as a concept, but it spells out and operationalizes in detail what this
principle (in its specific mode of internal self-determination) means for

92
There were 144 votes in favour, 4 votes against (Australia, Canada, New Zealand,
United States) and 11 abstentions.
93
See also Keal (note 4), at 200–216.
94
See Wolfrum (note 1), at 376–77, and 382.
95
See also Anaya (note 8), at 63–65.
96
See Wolfrum (note 1), at 377, and C. E. Foster, Articulating Self-Determination
in the Draft Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, 12 EJIL 141 (2001),
concerning the Draft Declaration; concerning the 2007 Declaration, see Heintze (note
10), at 167–68, and S. J. Anaya, the Right of Indigenous Peoples to Self-Determination
in the Post-Declaration Era, in: C. Charters / R. Stavenhagen (eds.), Making the
Declaration Work: The United Nations Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples,
at 184 (2009).
 the protection of indigenous peoples497

the legal status and concrete rights of indigenous peoples in internal

legal systems.97 The realization of this (although functionally limited)
right of self-determination is made an issue of legitimate international
concern, as the concluding articles of the Declaration make clear.98
As a result, the representatives of indigenous peoples (and the expert
community close to these peoples) have successfully implanted their
preferred conceptual construction into the international legal pro-
cess.99 With the Declaration–and the parallel founding of the Permanent
Forum–indigenous peoples have been transformed from a mere object
of international legal rules into an actor in the international legal pro-
cess.100 The UN Declaration itself is striking proof that the voice of
indigenous peoples in international legal discourse has become so loud
and significant that states can no longer ignore the legitimate claims of
these peoples.
Traditionally educated lawyers may find some reassurance in the
observation that the UN Declaration of 2007 is not part of the hard core
of strictly binding international law. UN Declarations, which are a spe-
cific version of General Assembly resolutions, in the first place are
political documents with no direct legal effect. However, they may have
indirect legal significance.101 Like other UN General Assembly
resolutions, they may constitute the point of crystalization of new
norms of customary law, or they may be part of the customary legal
process as expression of opinio juris as well as part and parcel of state
practice.102 In the case of the 2007 UN Declaration, this is of particular
importance as far as the customary principle of self-determination is
concerned. Self-determination is to a certain degree an underdeter-
mined concept of international law, to be given more concrete shape by

    97
See S. Wiessner, Indigenous Sovereignty–a Reassessment in Light of the UN
Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, 41 Vanderbilt J. of Transnational
L. 1141 (2008).
    98
See e.g. Articles 40, 41 and 42 of the UN Declaration.
    99
See also M. C. Lâm, We the (indigenous) Peoples of the United Nations, in:
S. Yee (ed.), Multiculturalism and International Law. Essays in Honour of Edward
McWhinney, at 589 (2009).
100
See Göcke (note 10), at 166–183, as well as, concerning the previous state of law,
A. Meijknecht, Towards International Personality: The Position of Minorities and
Indigenous Peoples in International Law (2001).
101
See J. Klabbers, An Introduction to International Institutional Law, at 183
(2nd. ed. 2009); P.C. Szasz, General Law-Making Processes, in: C. C. Joyner (ed.),
The United Nations and International Law, at 27 (1997).
102
See H. G. Schermers / N. M. Blokker, International Institutional Law, at 782 §§
1248–1251 (4th. Ed. 2003).
498 stefan oeter

the further customary process.103 In the traditional understanding of self-

determination, indigenous peoples were not as such perceived as own-
ers of a right of self-determination.104 In this regard, the UN Declaration
of 2007 marks a watershed in state practice as well as in opinio juris.
With the 2007 Declaration, the member states of the UN have expressed
their legal opinion that indigenous peoples are peoples enjoying a
right of self-determination, although in a functionally limited form of
internal self-determination. The concrete emanations of autonomy
which are set out in the operative part of the Declaration give an indi-
cation of what may be understood as a realization of such internal
self-determination. Interestingly enough, there has been a strong
tendency in state practice throughout the world during the last two
decades to grant indigenous peoples forms of autonomy which more
or less correspond to the rights ascribed to indigenous peoples by the
UN Declaration.105 Such widespread practice may be seen as state prac-
tice corresponding to the opinio juris expressed in the Declaration.
Accordingly, one may argue that the collective rights derived from the
principle of self-determination in the Declaration correspond to an
evolving set of norms of customary law.
At the same time, the rights expressed in the Declaration may also be
seen as subsequent practice of states in the sense of Art. 31 para. 3 lit.
(b) of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties–practice which
further elaborates the understanding of rules codified in a number
of treaties. Regarding self-determination, one may think of the UN
Charter (Art. 1), but also of the two UN Human Rights Covenants of
1966 with their identical Art. 1 para.1. If one follows that line, the UN
Declaration as subsequent practice expresses a common interpretation
by member states of the treaty provisions on the right of self-
determination. Concerning land rights, the Inter-American Court on
Human Rights in the Awas Tingni Case106 has opted for an “evolution-
ary interpretation” of the property rights provided for in the American
Convention on Human Rights, an interpretation harmonizing the
construction of the treaty guarantees of property rights entrusted to

103
See also Keal (note 4), at 132–136; Anaya (note 8), at 103–110.
104
See Lâm (note 64), at 135–142; Anaya (note 8), at 110–115.
105
See Göcke (note 10), at 179–180; Anaya (note 8), at 150–153; Gilbert (note 32),
at 231–246.
106
Inter-Ame. Ct. H. R., Mayagna (Sumo) Community of Awas Tingni v. Nicaragua,
Judgment of 31 August 2001, Ser. C No. 79.
 the protection of indigenous peoples499

the Court with the form given to land rights of indigenous peoples in
the 1989 ILO Convention 169 and the drafts of the UN and the OAS
declarations on the rights of indigenous peoples.107 Further decisions
following such precedent may be expected in the future.108

G. Conclusions

To sum up, if analysed in more detail, it is highly plausible that the

innovative normative construction given to the (collective) rights of
indigenous peoples in the 2007 UN Declaration will make a significant
impact upon international law concerning the protection of indigenous
peoples.109 The concrete normative implications of the normative turn
embodied in the Declaration may still be far from clear in detail, but
the few reflections presented here should have sufficed to demonstrate
that the Declaration has great potential to change relevant interna-
tional legal rules, and will constitute a normative watershed. The basic
principles and the set of fundamental legal rules needed to effectively
protect the rights of indigenous peoples have been finally settled–with
the exception of some remaining areas of disagreement, as for example
the question of how to define the term indigenous peoples.110 This final
clarification of most issues of principled dispute will inevitably change
the normative discourse on the protection of indigenous peoples.111
Continuing to argue about the fundamental set of governing legal prin-
ciples and rules no longer makes sense. Whether indigenous peoples

107
See also Anaya (note 8), at 70.
108
See, however, the critical assessment by J. M. Pasqualucci, International
Indigenous Land Rights: A Critique of the Jurisprudence of the Inter-American Court
of Human Rights in Light of the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous
Peoples, 27 Wisconsin Int’l. L. J. 51 (2009).
109
See also S. J. Anaya / S. Wiesner: The UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous
Peoples. Towards Re-empowerment, in: J. Anaya (ed.), International Human Rights
and Indigenous Peoples, at 99 (2009).
110
See Wolfrum (note 1), at 378–79; Göcke (note 10), at 168–170; Keal (note 4),
at 6–16; Heintze (note 10), at 160–61; M. Scheinin, What are Indigenous Peoples?, in:
N. Ghanea (ed.), Minorities, Peoples, and Self-Determination. Essays in Honour of
Patrick Thornberry, at 3 (2005); D. E. Sanders, Indigenous Peoples: Issues of Definition,
8 Int’l. J. of Cultural Property 4 (1999).
111
See A. Regino Montes / G. Torres Cisneros, The United Nations Declaration on
the Rights of Indigenous Peoples: The Foundation of a New Relationship between
Indigenous Peoples, States and Societies, in: C. Charters / R. Stavenhagen (eds.),
Making the Declaration Work: The United Nations Declaration of the Rights of
Indigenous Peoples, at 138 (2009).
500 stefan oeter

enjoy a right to self-determination, to give an example, is not a matter

deserving further discussion–the question has now been clarified. The
normative discourse will shift to issues of implementation. What do all
the principles and rights enshrined in the 2007 Declaration really mean
in the concrete context of a specific national legal order, with regard to
a specific indigenous people? The questions are not fully answered by
the Declaration, since it is a principled document worded in the lofty
language of abstract priciples and basic precepts of rights, i.e. in a
normative construction which needs further operationalization. The
discourse on such operationalization will again be quite conflictive–
but it will be a different type of discourse from that led during recent
decades if states take seriously the normative path consented to with
the 2007 Declaration.112
This means that the emphasis of international legal process will shift
away from principled discussions to the quest for concrete legal solu-
tions to be given to concrete practical questions. There is every reason
to welcome such development. A large number of indigenous peoples
find themselves in desperate situations. Abstract discussions on legal
principles do not help them. What is needed here is an operational
discourse on the implementation of agreed rules which should lead to
concrete results on the ground.113 Bearing in mind the rather abstract
nature of most of the guarantees contained in the 2007 UN Declaration,
a lot of legal work still needs to be done.114 And it is important that the
voice of the peoples concerned is heard in the process of operational-
izing and implementing the declaration’s standards. Fortunately the
Declaration itself makes this point quite explicitly.
Where states ignore the views and concerns of the peoples affected
by the measures to be taken, it will be the responsibility of the inter­
national community to remind them of their obligation. The organ
primarily responsible in that regard in the UN system is the Permanent
Forum on Indigenous Peoples. Since that body is composed to a

112
See also D. Sambo Dorough, The Significance of the Declaration on the Rights of
Indigenous Peoples and its Future Implementation, in: C. Charters / R. Stavenhagen
(eds.), Making the Declaration Work: The United Nations Declaration of the Rights of
Indigenous Peoples, at 264 (2009).
113
See also R. Stavenhagen, Making the Declaration Work, in: C. Charters /
R. Stavenhagen (eds.), Making the Declaration Work: The United Nations Declaration
of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, at 352 (2009).
114
See B. J. Richardson (ed.), Indigenous Peoples and the Law: Comparative and
Critical Perspectives (2009).
 the protection of indigenous peoples501

c­onsiderable extent of representatives of indigenous peoples them-

selves, this means that states have to justify their actions in a discourse
with speakers for indigenous peoples, thus making indigenous peoples
(in a functional sense) an active part of the international community.115
This is a rather revolutionary phenomenon, if judged against the back-
ground of traditional concepts of international community and inter-
national legal process.116
Not that we should be reassured that things are looking better and
better. A lot of progress has been achieved–but a lot still needs to be
done, in particular with regard to a serious process of implementation.
And without a transformation of the Declaration’s standards into treaty
law, an effective institutionalized system of international monitoring of
its implementation is out of reach. Institutionalized monitoring
schemes, or even individual complaint procedures, are available only as
far as specific treaty standards are concerned. The ILO System of
Monitoring Compliance with ILO Conventions probably constitutes
the most relevant monitoring procedure in this respect.117 The proce-
dure on the Mexican state report under ILO Convention 169 is a good
example of the potential which such procedures may have for the pro-
tection of indigenous peoples–Mexico, as one of the first states ratify-
ing ILO Convention 169, came under strict scrutiny from the ILO
monitoring procedure.118
A generalized scheme of international monitoring may be the next
logical step. However, it is probably illusory to expect such an advance-
ment in the near future. The 2007 UN Declaration on the Rights of
Indigenous Peoples was already more than could have been expected
some ten years ago. A dynamic improvement in the standard of pro­
tection on the ground will depend upon strong political pressure
exerted in the context of relevant UN organs on states resisting the
implementation of the standards laid down in the Declaration.
It will also depend upon “evolutionary interpretation” of the existing
treaty obligations and a dynamic approach taken by the relevant treaty

115
See also C. Charters, A Self-Determination Approach to Justifying Indigenous
Peoples’ Participation in International Law and Policy Making, 17 Int’l. J. on Minority
and Group Rights 215 (2010).
116
See also T. Koivurova, Sovereign States and Self-Determining Peoples: Carving
Out a Place for Transnational Indigenous Peoples in a World of Sovereign States,
12 Int’l. Community L. Rev. 191 (2010).
117
See Anaya (note 8), at 226–228.
118
Id., at 226–27.
502 stefan oeter

bodies, interpreting treaty-based standards in the light of the 2007

Declaration. The normative foundations for both strands of develop-
ment are laid down in the 2007 UN Declaration. Some of the quests
expressed in the concluding remarks of Rüdiger Wolfrum’s 1999 essay
have thus been achieved. “Therefore, it is worth considering whether
the status of indigenous peoples could be improved, apart from
strengthening their rights in respect of land, through the establishment
of procedures which at least guarantee that their interests are effectively
taken into consideration in the formulation of policies on public affairs.
Particular provisions should ensure that the future of indigenous peo-
ples within their home States is determined together with them as part-
ners and that their rights are neither neglected nor are they treated as
objects.”119

119
Wolfrum (note 1), at 382.
 Sleeping Beauty or Let Sleeping Dogs Lie?
The Right of Everyone to Enjoy the Benefits of
Scientific Progress and its Applications (REBSPA)

Eibe Riedel

A. Introduction

Many important thoughts have been developed and discussed in

relation to REBSPA, usually in the context of UNESCO and, amongst
academics. William Schabas, Audrey Chapman, Yvonne Donders,
Flavio Valente and many others have tried to outline the content and
relevance of Article 15(1) b International Covenant on Economic,
Social and Cultural Rights (ICESCR or Covenant) for modern human
rights realization.1 Most writers on the topic have concentrated on the
relationship of scientific progress and its applications with intellectual
property rights (IPR),2 and have stressed the fact that globalization,
international trade regimes and phenomenal scientific advances in
genetics and genetic engineering have taken place since the adoption of
the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) in 1948 and of
the ICESCR 20 years later, which were not anticipated when the human
rights documents of 1948 and 1966 were drafted. All commentators
seem to agree that the wording of Article 15(1) b ICESCR is bland,
abstract, and does not reveal clearly the scope, purpose and functions
that could be associated with REBSPA.

1
See W. A. Schabas, Study of the Right to Enjoy the Benefits of Scientific and
Technological Progress and Ist Applications, in: Y. Donders / V. Volodin (eds.), Human
Rights in Education, Science and Culture. Legal Developments and Challenges,
UNESCO 2007, at 273; R. P. Claude, Scientists’ Rights and the Human Right to the
Benefits of Science, in: A. Chapman / S. Russell (eds.), Core Obligations: Building a
Framework for Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, Intersentia, at 247 (2002);
A. R.Chapman, Towards an Understanding of the Right to Enjoy the Benefits of
Scientific Progress and Its Applications, 8 Journal of Human Rights 1 (2009); F. Valente,
The Right to Enjoy the Benefits of Scientific Progress and its Applications and the Right
to Food, in: UNESCO Experts’ Meeting,Amsterdam, 7–8 June 2007, Collection of
Documents, Amsterdam Centre for International Law, available at http://www.jur.uva
.nl/acil, at 55.
2
See S. F. Musungu, The Right to Enjoy the Benefits of Scientific Progress and its
Applications and Intellectual Property, in UNESCO Experts’ Meeting Amsterdam
(note 1), at 168.
504 eibe riedel

So it does not come as a surprise that a look at the practice of that

right under the Covenant, as a binding legal obligation resting on states
parties (SPs) to the ICESCR, is quite disappointing. Looked at from the
perspective of the Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights
(CESCR), empowered to monitor the SP reports, several reasons can
be given.
Tucked away at the end of the Covenant, Article 15 has rarely
received the full attention it deserves; SPs simply have not referred to it,
and Committee members have not dwelt on it, more attention being
devoted to issues of cooperation and assistance under Article 2(1), in
relation to the progressive realization of all economic, social and
cultural rights (esc rights), or Articles 2(2) and 3 ICESCR on non-
discrimination and equality in the application of all individual
Covenant rights, enumerated in Part III of the Covenant. After 21 years
of Committee practice, during which time over 200 SP reports have
been received and monitored, concluding observations of the CESCR
have gradually focussed specific attention on many aspects of many
rights under the Covenant, paying special attention to the plight of
marginalized and disadvantaged individuals and groups of society, and
ranging from articles on the rights to food to housing, health, water,
education, and also on cultural matters, but in an unsystematic, hap-
hazard fashion, and almost never on REBSPA. Spurred on by the
Economic and Social Council (ECOSOC), the CESCR has also up to
now elaborated 21 General Comments (GCs), which try to elucidate
the contents of these esc rights.3 The approach taken in this regard has
been one of careful balancing: based on the Committee’s experience in
conducting dialogues with the SPs on their reports submitted, and on

3
See for instance General Comment (GC) No. 3, The nature of State parties’ obliga-
tions (Art. 2, para. 1 of the Covenant), 1990; GC No. 4, The right to adequate housing
(Art. 11(1) of the Covenant), 1991; GC No. 9, The domestic application of the Covenant,
1998; GC No. 10, The role of national human rights institutions in the protection of
economic, social and cultural rights, 1998; GC No. 12, The right to adequate food
(Art.11), 1999; GC No. 13,The right to education (Art. 13), 1999; GC No. 14, The right
to the highest attainable standard of health (Art. 12), 2000; GC No. 15, the right to
water (Arts. 11 and 12), 2002; GC No. 16, The equal right of men and women to the
enjoyment of economic, social and cultural rights, 2005; GC No. 17, The right of eve-
ryone to benefit from the protection of the moral and material interests resulting from
any scientific, literary or artistic production of which he or she is the author (Art. 15,
para. 1 c), 2005; GC No. 18, The right to work (Art. 6), 2005; GC No. 19, The right to
social security (Art. 9), 2007; GC No. 20, Non-Discrimination in Economic, Social and
Cultural Rights (Art. 2, para. 2), 2009; GC No. 21 The right of everyone to take part in
cultural life (Art. 15, para. 1 a), 2009.
 sleeping beauty or let sleeping dogs lie?505

the focus of questions put to the SP delegations; after deliberations in

private sessions of the Committee concluding observations usually are
issued which highlight the matters discussed with the SP delegations.
Through the most valuable input of specialized agencies, such as
UNESCO, WHO, FAO, WIPO or ILO, Committee members are put in
a position to ask focussed questions, and this is supplemented by addi-
tional information and suggestions for questions to be put to the dele-
gations, submitted by international and national non-governmental
organizations (NGOs) and other parts of civil society. In recent years,
this has been supplemented by detailed information provided by the
UN Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR),
field presences, reports of UN Special Rapporteurs on particular rights,
and occasionally also by contributions from academia.
All these human rights actors interpret the provisions of the
Covenant, and their contributions are most welcome to Committee
members. I will come back to that interaction of the CESCR and other
actors below.

B. REBSPA as it Stands

Against this background of “interpreters” of the Covenant, all geared to

assist the CESCR in carefully setting out its interpretation of Covenant
provisions, it is quite surprising that Article 15(1) b ICESCR has not so
far played any role at all in the Committee’s practice. The first reason
for that is that Article 15 ICESCR is the last one, and since only 9 hours
of dialogue, at best, are available for each SP report, by the time the
Committee members get down to Article 15, maybe ½ to 1 hour only
remains for the whole of the Article 15 discussion. Issues discussed
under that article generally focus on Article 15(1) a ICESCR, and only
occasionally on authors’ rights under Article 15(1) c, for which at least
one General Comment (GC No.17) and a Committee Statement do
exist.4 The issue of intellectual property rights (IPRs) has hardly ever
been discussed fully with SPs, and the wording of Article 15(1) does
not help: IPRs are referred to specifically neither under Article 15(1)c,
nor under Article 15(1) b; in fact, on literal interpretation, they
fall neatly between the stools of those two rights. Some Committee

4
Human Rights and Intellectual Property, Statement of the Committee on
Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, 27th Session, UN Doc. E/C.12/2001/15.
506 eibe riedel

members, including myself, have several times urged the CESCR as a

first step to change its review practice, by reversing the order of discus-
sion somewhat: after the first cluster on Articles 2–5, the fourth cluster
on educational and cultural rights ought to be dealt with first, before
cluster two on labour rights and cluster three on an adequate standard
of living, family rights, and the right to health are discussed.
Looking at the information available to Committee members, how-
ever, by far the most discussed and elaborated concerns revolve round
poverty issues, the plight of marginalized and disadvantaged individu-
als and groups of society in relation to the core content of each of the
Covenant rights, and thus the focus tends to be on conditions of labour,
on availability of social security and social assistance, on housing con-
ditions, particularly forced evictions,5 on the rights to food, health,
and, recently, on the right to water and, of course, on the right to educa-
tion, for all of which a lot of Committee practice and Committee reflec-
tion in General Comments does exist. This is also where most civil
society input is. In fact, of all the Part III provisions of the Covenant
only conditions of labour and trade union rights, family rights and
Article 15(1) b, and 15 (2)–(4) now remain to be commented upon in
General Comments. The CESCR has also recently adopted GC No. 21
on Article 15(1) a. So, the first ground for the neglect of REBSPA is a
technical one: lack of Committee time.
The second ground for the neglect of REBSPA in CESCR practice is
more substantive and serious: no consensus exists on the precise mean-
ing of each of the components of REBSPA.
While most commentators seem to agree that the whole of Article
15, like all the Part III rights under the Covenant, is primarily con-
cerned with the protection of rights of individuals, developments in
recent human rights literature do pick up collective dimensions of the
esc rights as well, particularly when they refer to marginalized and dis-
advantaged groups of individuals and rights of minorities and indige-
nous people. This was highlighted in GC No. 21 (2009) on the right of
everyone to take part in cultural life (Article 15(1) a ICESCR). But SPs,
particularly those of the developed world, insist that the Covenant
merely addresses the individual, not collective, dimensions of the rights
in question. And this reticence of member states is borne out by the

5
On forced evictions see GC No. 7, The right to adequate housing (Art. 11(1)),
Forced Evictions, 1997.
 sleeping beauty or let sleeping dogs lie?507

recent adoption of an Optional Protocol to the ICESCR (OP), elabo-

rated by an inter-governmental working group of the Human Rights
Council.6 It soon became clear that any communications procedure
would have to be restricted to the individual rights approach if consen-
sus on the whole exercise were to be secured. Much to the displeasure
of civil society which forcefully argued that human rights law had dra-
matically changed in its factual assumptions since the 1960s, and that
the plight of ethnic groups and indigenous people actually threatened
with extinction would render it necessary to encompass this collective
group rights dimension alongside the individualist approach, the col-
lective rights approach was given up. In the final text, the OP speaks of
“individuals” and “groups of individuals”, subtly distinguishing those
rights holders from outright collective groups in their own right. The
case law of the OP ICCPR shows clearly how this median position can
work (see the famous case of Lubicon Lake v. Canada, Sandra Lovelace
v. Canada, and a couple of other cases involving the Sami people of
Scandinavia).7
If one looks at the text of Article 15(1) b ICESCR, one finds that no
definitions are offered at all. As the authors mentioned at the begin-
ning have shown, the travaux préparatoires are no help in this respect.
If anything, they show that IPR should be left for separate treaty devel-
opments under the aegis of UNESCO, and that Article 15(1) b should
be seen in its cultural context, particularly if read together with Article
15(1) a and 15(2)–(4). The big and open questions of subsequent dec-
ades, with the development of a globalized economy and multiple
forms of abuses of science, were not covered adequately in the very
brief discussions on the topic. Under Article 31 VCLT, in cases of ambi-
guity in texts, the travaux préparatoires at any rate merely serve as sub-
sidiary means of establishing the meaning of a particular wording of a
treaty provision. And it is a sociology of international law phenomenon
that the work of drafters of a text is highly relevant at the beginning, as
practice starts to develop, but that over time its relevance becomes less
and less, newer developments and case practice on the literal wording,

6
Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural
Rights, UN Doc. A/RES/63/117, 10 December 2008.
7
On this see New Bearings in Social Rights? The Communications Procedure
under the ICESCR, in Paulus et al., Essays in Honour of Judge Bruno Simma, Oxford
2011, 574–589; see also E. Riedel, Gruppenrechte und kollektive Aspekte individueller
Menschenrechte. Aktuelle Probleme des Menschenrechtsschutzes (Group Rights and
Collective Aspects of Individual Human Rights), in: Berichte der Deutschen
Gesellschaft für Völkerrecht 33, at 49 (1993).
508 eibe riedel

the so-called “jurisprudence”, taking over.8 The use of such language

serves the purpose of strengthening existing trends in upgrading the
practice of international organizations, bringing it closer to the prac-
tice of states. But this is, of course, quite widely disputed.
The dilemma we face with Article 15(1) b ICESCR is, however, that
not even such “case law” or “Committee practice” exists hitherto. States,
when drawing up treaties, are very concerned to keep the matters
under control, and to regard themselves bound only to what they have
specifically agreed. Article 31 VCLT, drawn up by states themselves and
now part of customary international law, does, however, empower
treaty monitoring bodies to interpret the agreed provisions of a treaty,
and this is a small but important inroad into the principle of state sov-
ereignty: the monitoring bodies are thus empowered to interpret the
provisions, but not to legislate new contents. A fine line exists between
interpretation and legislation, as innumerable examples from national
legal orders show. When the provision is as abstract, bland, vague and
lacking in precise contours as is Article 15(1) b ICESCR, it is very dif-
ficult to assess what precisely the provision covers, particularly when
rapid new developments occur. Traditional or “static” interpretation
doctrine will insist that those matters should be dealt with in a new
treaty or treaties, additional protocols, amendments, framework
treaties or codes of conduct, or simply in recommendations in the form
of guidelines. Those favouring a more “dynamic” approach will high-
light the fact that human rights norms differ fundamentally from ordi-
nary treaty norms, because human rights address the interests (claim
rights) of persons within a state, not the state as such. The function of
states, according to this view, is not to exchange obligations with other
states, but to set in motion a regime of rights protection: once estab-
lished, that treaty takes on a separate life, independent of the states
parties which created it. The state’s only function is to set the system in

8
Some academic writers have coined the phrase “committee jurisprudence” to lend
additional argumentative weight to the quasi-judicial nature of individual communica-
tions procedures and, indeed, also to the political nature of the state reporting proce-
dures when it comes to assessing the legal status of concluding observations. These,
however, merely represent suggestions and recommendations to the States parties, not
legally binding interpretations of the treaty texts. On this see E. Riedel, Allgemeine
Bemerkungen zu Bestimmungen des Internationalen Paktes über wirtschaftliche, sozi-
ale und kulturelle Rechte der Vereinten Nationen (General Comments to provisions of
the ICESCR of the UN), in Deutsches Institut für Menschenrechte (ed.), Die “General
Comments” zu den VN-Menschenrechtsverträgen, German translations and short
introductions, at 160 (2005).
 sleeping beauty or let sleeping dogs lie?509

motion; thereafter it takes on its own life. Accordingly, the monitoring

body set up under such an objective regime has a certain degree of
freedom, as long as it remains within the confines of the object and
purpose of the treaty, and does not interpret the opposite meaning into
a text, such as using the abstract text in such a way that issues are sub-
sumed under it which states had no intention to be covered by the
agreed text.
UNESCO instruments, such as the Recommendation on the Status
of Scientific Researchers of 1974, made valuable suggestions as to what
is meant by science and its applications, as William Schabas neatly
outlined:
“The word ‘science’ signifies the enterprise whereby mankind, acting
individually or in small or large groups, makes an organized attempt, by
means of the objective study of observed phenomena, to discover and
master the chain of causalities…bring together co-ordinated sub-systems
of knowledge…by systematic reflection and conceptualization.”9
It means seeing the greater whole in a series of events or facts. And
‘technology’ in this regard relates “to the production or improvement
of goods or services”.10 As Kelsen and others have outlined, science is
concerned with three realms: the world of ‘is’, the world of ‘ought’ and
the world of ‘meaning’, or, in German, “Sein, Sollen und Sinn”. Scientific
assessments in the world of ‘is’ concern phenomena and ideas on phe-
nomena, while the world of ‘oughtness’ contains deontological state-
ments, such as theological or legal propositions against which factual
situations can be measured. The world of ‘meaning’ involves the dimen-
sion of evaluation, and of assessing the object and purposes of the
norm. I shall not go into the controversies raging about the “Sein-
Sollen-Kluft” or “is-ought fallacy” which cannot be breached according
to David Hume, nor into disputes concerning value relativism, nor
indeed into the intricacies of Worlds 1, 2, 3 which Popper and Eccles
outlined in their study ‘The Self and Its Brain’, World 1 referring to
the physical world, World 2 to the world of mental states, including
states of consciousness and psychological dispositions, and World 3 to
the world of contents of thought and of the products of the human
mind.11

9
W. A. Schabas (note 1), at 214, quoting from a Recommensation on the Status of
Scientific Researchers of the UNESCO General Conference, 18th session, 1974.
10
W. Schabas (note 1), at 218.
11
K. R. Popper / J. Eccles, The Self and Its Brain. An Argument for Interactionism,
in particular at 36–50 (1982).
510 eibe riedel

The words chosen in the text of Article 15(1) b ICESCR seem to

focus on the aspect of increased knowledge which should be available
to all. But how this could be done is left open, and whether the results
of scientific advances–for that is what “progress” entails–should be
available for “everyone” as a common good, or to “everyone” as indi-
viduals, as scientists, inventors or other categories of persons.
As far as “applications” of science or “scientific progress” are con-
cerned, no clarification is found whether this refers to material and/or
immaterial “benefits”, and whether or not property rights are covered.
Had Article 17 UDHR on the right to property been taken on board in
the ICESCR, or even the ICCPR, and not been dropped in 1954 from
the Covenants project, being adjourned sine die, because of fundamen-
tal disagreement, not on property as a human right as such, but on the
effects of expropriation and dispossession generally, particularly in
relation to nationalization measures with or without compensation,
the task of interpreting the word “benefits” of scientific progress and its
applications might have been a lot easier, because under general tort
law or law of obligations immaterial property rights can be seen as
appendices to the general right to property. Once that provision left the
Covenants, it left a big gap, as compared with the UDHR. This is one
more reason to be sceptical from an international law point of view, of
dynamically extending the scope and function of Article 15(1) b
ICESCR, much though recent developments would greatly serve the
cause of this right.
The net result of this cursory glance at the legal possibilities of inter-
pretation of REBSPA is sobering: the meaning of the provision is
unclear; there is no Committee practice on it; there are some aspects of
REBSPA that have been addressed in other fora, such as in the former
UN Sub-Commission, UNESCO Declarations and Recommendations,
and a number of documents focussing on “bad science”. In this area,
some honey can be sucked from other elaborated rights, which because
of the “triple I U”, the mantra of indivisibility, inter-dependence, inter-
relatedness and universality of all human rights, have a direct effect on
the kind of scientific work that is legitimate and that which is not, as
Audrey Chapman and Flavio Valente have convincingly shown.12 But
in order to discuss those limitations of the right, one first of all has to
be absolutely clear about the positive content of the right; otherwise the

12
Chapman (note 1), at 11–16; Valente (note 1), at 67 et seq.
 sleeping beauty or let sleeping dogs lie?511

limitations become the centre of attention which goes against the entire
methodology, if not philosophy, of the Universal Bill of Rights.
So, it seems necessary first to develop what actually is protected by
the REBSPA, before addressing other issues, such as abuses of the right.
And that is where some of the interpretation problems of Article 15(1)
b lie: little though we can gather from the travaux préparatoires, at least
one thing became clear during the very brief and disappointing discus-
sions on this right: attempts to describe the objects and purposes of the
right were flatly rejected by a majority, unfortunately for the wrong
reasons, as was outlined by William Schabas: the discussions in the
Human Rights Commission in June 1948 and later had revealed that
the Soviet delegate’s proposal that “the benefits of science” were not the
property of a chosen few, but the heritage of mankind, and that science
ought to be directed towards peaceful aims and to making human life
better was later used as an argument in the discussions on drafting
Article 15(1) b that this might lead to state censureship and arbitrary
restrictions on scientific content. Here the quickly accelerating Cold
War ideological controversies were lit.13 In the end, no aims or pur-
poses of scientific progress were taken into the wording of REBSPA. So,
where do we stand? In my opinion, the time is not yet ripe for drafting
a General Comment on Article 15(1) b ICESCR.

C. The Way Ahead

After this rather negative outline which explains, to a certain extent,

why Committee members have hardly ever asked specific questions on
it, and SPs, on the whole, simply and quietly ignored this right, we
should ask ourselves what we should do next.

I. The Elaboration of a General Comment on the REBSPA

One could, of course, encourage the elaboration of a GC on REBSPA as
a special case, because the lack of discussion reveals a consensus on the
issues involved as not needing further elaboration, because the mes-
sage is clear and presumed–otherwise the large majority on the final
adoption of Article 15(1) b ICESCR could not be explained. Given the
drafting of a GC on the right to water as an emanation of Articles 11

13
Schabas (note 1), at 280–282.
512 eibe riedel

and 12 ICESCR,14 at first sight the situation looks similar: if the

Committee could do it there by interpretation, why not do the same
with Article 15(1) b, which even is an express clause? The CESCR felt
justified in outlining the right to water as an implicit emanation of an
adequate standard of living, covering food, health, etc., thus allowing
for other situations of comparable importance on the same level of
rights categories as food, housing, health, etc. But the determining fac-
tor ultimately was that there was at least significant Committee practice
on the right to water: prior to the adoption of GC No.15, the right to
water had been mentioned and discussed in 34 out of 180 state reports.
Moreover, as the GC restricted itself to relatively basic assumptions of
the individual domestic uses of water, leaving aside politically highly
contentious, but very important, water management issues or water for
agricultural purposes, the GC could be adopted unanimously and, as
subsequent practice shows, now nearly every SP is asked questions
on water, and SPs have accepted this, only occasionally grudgingly.15
That, unfortunately, is not the case with REBSPA. The persistent dissent
on the relevance of IPRs in relation to Article 15 as a whole, in my
opinion, does not make REBSPA a good candidate for a GC at this very
moment.

II. The Amendment of Art. 15 (1) b or the Development

of an Additional Protocol
Of course, a more radical, more legalistic approach might advocate
amending Article 15(1) b, or developing an Additional Protocol which
would pick up all the open questions left unanswered so far, taking into
account by way of progressive development the newer situations, and
the issues to be embraced could be dealt with along the lines which
Maria Green and others have stressed. In the context of Article 15(1) b
and c she said:
“We face a world with issues that the drafters of the ICESCR could
never have envisaged, from an AIDS epidemic reigning in one part of
the world, while drugs that could help are largely owned in another, to

14
See supra, note 3 above; also E. Riedel: The Human Right to Water and General
Comment No.15 of the Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, in:
E. Riedel / P. Rothen (eds.), The Human Right to Water, at 19 (2006).
15
This has recently been confirmed by a General Assembly Resolution UN Doc. A/
RES/64/292 of 28 July 2010, and a subsequent reaffirming resolution of the Human
Rights Council.
 sleeping beauty or let sleeping dogs lie?513

scientifically engineered non-reproducing crops, to scientists ‘bio-pros-

pecting’ for traditional knowledge whose ownership does not fit into
existing patent definitions. Then, too, with the recent tying of intellectual
property to trade law, IPRs have undergone a sea-change, becoming uni-
versal, compulsory, and enforceable in ways that were never dreamt of in
the middle of the last century.”16
She rightly concludes that the drafters of the Covenant “did not seem to
deeply consider the difficult balance between public needs and private
rights, when it comes to intellectual property”, and that the drafters of
REBSPA probably did not consider such modern phenomena as the
corporation-held patent, or the situation where the creator is simply an
employee of the entity which holds a patent or copyright.
All these assessments I fully share, but they concern issues of very
broad application, “macro questions”, and should not just be left to a
group of 18 experts sitting in the CESCR–very few of whom are real
experts in IPR–as a matter of Covenant interpretation. They are burn-
ing issues and have a profound impact on the human rights situation of
millions of people, but they require legislation, not interpretation. The
treaty avenue or Protocol route seems the cleanest option for that,
particularly as the WIPO hitherto has not managed to elaborate the
exception clauses of the TRIPs by reading them in a human rights
context, despite the promise of mainstreaming human rights in all
specialized agencies and UN programmes. Clean as this solution
would seem to be, it is fairly unrealistic to expect SPs to the Covenant
to enter such a thorny pathway, which at any rate would take 10 years
or more of negotiation time, at the end of which possibly only develop-
ing countries might actually ratify. So, it is probably better to try other
modalities.

III. The Draft of A Model Law

Another possibility might be to draft a model law, possibly developed
by UNESCO, with which national constitutional, legislative and other
implementation steps could be justified on a voluntary basis. Such a
voluntary model law used as a standard which can be applied but does
not have to be applied might help to develop state practice, which the

16
M. Green, Drafting History of the Article 15 (1) c of the ICESCR, submitted for
the Day of General Discussion on Article 15 (1)c of the ICESCR, Background Paper,
UN Doc. E/C.12/2000/15 October 2000.
514 eibe riedel

CESCR might then use as an example of good practice. The Voluntary

Guidelines on the Right to Food and Food Security at the National
Level (2004), elaborated by an inter-governmental working group of
the FAO, might serve as a good case in point.17 CESCR members and
NGOs are now increasingly referring to that document, and SPs are
aware that they will have to respond to questions raised in that
connection.

IV. The New Guidelines of 2008

Next, the CESCR in revising its Revised Guidelines (the New Guidelines
of 2008) has itself made a cautious attempt to raise some questions in
relation to REBSPA which might structure future debate between the
Committee and SPs. Under those New Guidelines18 paragraph 67 on
REBSPA encourages SPs to answer the following questions:
(a) what measures have been taken to ensure the application of scien-
tific progress for the benefit of everyone, including…on preserva-
tion of mankind’s natural heritage and promoting a healthy and
pure environment, and information on the institutional infrastruc-
tures established for that purpose;
(b) what measures have been taken to promote the diffusion of infor-
mation on scientific progress;
(c) what measures have been taken to prevent the use of scientific and
technical progress for purposes contrary to the enjoyment of all
human rights, including the rights to life, health, personal freedom,
privacy, and the like;
(d) what restrictions, if any, have been placed upon the exercise of
this right, with details of the legal provisions prescribing such
restrictions.
It can easily be seen that these new guidelines, drawn up rather quickly,
do not go very much beyond the textual analysis of Article 15(1) b,

17
Voluntary Guidelines to support the progressive realization of the right to ade-
quate food in the context of national food security, FAO Council, 127th Sess., November
2004, FAO Rome 2005; on the travaux préparatoires see A. Oshaug, Developing
Voluntary Guidelines for Implementing the Right to Adequate Food: Anatomy of an
Intergovernmental Process, in: W. Barth Eide/ U. Kracht (eds.), Food and Human
Rights in development,Volume I: Legal and Institutional Dimensions and Selected
Topics, chapter 11, at 259–282 (2005).
18
See HRI/GEN/2/Rev.5, May 2009.
 sleeping beauty or let sleeping dogs lie?515

except for the addition of environmental law parameters transcending

the text, and if one looks at (a) and (b), for example, and imagines an
SP junior government departmental officer charged with writing the
answers to those highly abstract and vague notions, one wonders what
the result will be. But, of course, it is a start and may spur CESCR mem-
bers on to ask additional questions.
In paragraph 68 of the New Guidelines, the CESCR then asks SPs to
describe the legislative and other measures taken in relation to Article
15(1) c. Similarly, such legislative steps in relation to REBSPA can be
asked. You will note that the CESCR includes in its New Guidelines the
interrelationship of environmental impacts and human rights, which
does not follow from the text of the Covenant but is a highly topical
issue in the HRC. As SPs are merely invited to comment, this cautiously
advances the development of new legal interpretations.
Civil society, and above all UNESCO, should be encouraged to pro-
vide additional information on these questions which have been made
available to all SPs. And after the Venice meeting, organized by
UNESCO and the European Inter-University Centre for Human Rights
and Democratisation (EIUC) in July 2009, these and possibly other
questions to be discussed could be taken up by Committee members,
starting in one of the next Committee sessions. This eventually may
lead to a stock of concluding observations on REBSPA and, ultimately,
justify the elaboration of a General Comment on REBSPA if the treaty
avenue remains unrealistic. This pragmatic approach also has the
advantage of not staying at a high level of abstraction, but of gradually
laying the foundation for acceptable interpretations, universally agreed
and adopted by consensus of the CESCR members. I realize that some
would wish to be bolder. But then they have the onus of proof of how
this common aim can practicably be achieved.

V. The Option of Organizing an Informal Conference

Yet another modality for enhancing the REBSPA is to try and find a
group of friendly states parties which would organize an informal con-
ference, with SPs, UNESCO,WIPO, WHO, FAO, ILO, WTO, OHCHR,
and CESCR participation, freely to discuss behind closed doors, and
applying Chatham House rules, all the issues raised by REBSPA, and
what legal steps could be taken to bring this right to real life. The gen-
esis of the OP ICESCR is a good case in point: there the International
Commission of Jurists (ICJ)–a part of civil society–organized such a
516 eibe riedel

seminal meeting in private, at a time when most SP delegates when

addressed in public would have shrugged off the idea of having an indi-
vidual communications or complaint procedure on esc-rights. After
abortive attempts in the 1990s, persistent pressure by the NGOs ulti-
mately positively influenced the policy of the new HRC to finally put
esc rights on a par with civil and political rights as far as individual
complaints are concerned. On 24 September 2009 in New York, the
Optional Protocol (OP) to the ICESCR was opened for signature. By
mid-2010 35 States had signed and three ratified it. Once 10 States have
ratified the OP it will enter into force. The CESCR has begun to work
on rules of procedure, and it can be estimated that it will take about two
years before the first case will come up, assuming that domestic reme-
dies have been exhausted. Once that OP becomes fully operative, a real
‘individuals’ and ‘group of individuals’ “case law” will emerge, and ulti-
mately help immensely in the interpretation of the Covenant provi-
sions, including on REBSPA. Audrey Chapman and Flavio Valente
have persuasively argued that the inter-relatedness of all rights may
help to elucidate the full meaning of each of the component parts of
REBSPA as well.19

VI. Advocating a Cautious Approach

So, my own suggestion at this stage is cautious treaty interpretation
work, not bold invention of new desired ends, simply read into a bland
and little-defined right, absent case law or Committee practice. If the
CESCR went too far in the direction of legislating, bringing into the
text what was not intended to be covered at all, this would have very
negative effects on the credibility of the whole of the Committee’s work:
it took more than 40 years to convince SPs that the Social Covenant
fundamentally raises the same sort of state obligation questions as
under the ICCPR, and that Article 2(1) ICESCR, which mentions ‘pro-
gressive realization’, does not mean free discretionary decision by states
parties of how far they would wish to implement the Covenant as
merely programmatic obligations, simply addressed to the SPs, but
that, on the contrary, a core area of immediate obligations as under the
ICCPR does exist, embracing the core content of each right, the sur-
vival kit for each individual, and, above all, issues of equality and non-
discrimination, as the CESCR reiterated in GC 16 and most recently in

19
See generally supra, note 10.
 sleeping beauty or let sleeping dogs lie?517

GC 20. If the Committee went too far in its legitimate interpretation

exercise, SPs sceptical of too dynamic an interpretation might easily fall
back to positions of discretionary power, of arguments concerning the
hallowed domaine réservé which they wish to leave not to an expert
Committee but to themselves.

VII. Recommendations
My overview, therefore, leads me to a couple of recommendations:
1. UNESCO should, as in the past, take the lead in furthering inten-
sive work on REBSBA, offering its expertise, conference and work-
shop facilities, as in the past, and assisting the CESCR actively by
preparing reports on cultural rights, and particularly on REBSPA
realization in the SP reports of the coming CESCR sessions, and
ideally prior to submission of the SP reports or immediately after
that submission, so that it can be taken into account when drafting
a list of issues questions. That involves additional staff or contract
work for UNESCO which costs money, which is always very lim-
ited. But to achieve this task of REBSPA implementation seems
worth the efforts required.
2. Civil society similarly should provide the Committee with concrete
relevant data, indicators and ideas for benchmarks, or suggestions
of recommendations for the Committee’s questioning of the SPs,
emphasizing the great relevance of this right vis-à-vis all the other
existing rights. NGOs and civil society generally should consider
submitting studies on the positive content of REBSPA, offering defi-
nitions in that respect, and not merely concentrate on abuses of and
challenges to the right.
3. The OHCHR should be encouraged to provide additional informa-
tion on REBSPA where available, and should particularly assist
country rapporteurs of the CESCR and brief CESCR members so
that they can ask more focussed questions on REBSPA.
4. If my negative tableau does not seem justified, and, on the contrary,
we actually have progressed much further already, then it might be
useful to draft a set of bullet point principles on REBSPA which
should serve as a starting point, elaborating the New Guidelines of
the CESCR.
Adopting an advocatus diaboli position at this stage in no way affects
my acceptance of making REBSPA come alive as soon as possible, and
518 eibe riedel

that many of the burning scientific progress and science application

issues deserve immediate attention by all human rights actors.

VIII. The Venice Statement

The Venice Meeting organized by UNESCO and the EIUC in July 2009
issued a “Venice Statement” on REBSPA and outlined some of the
major conceptual challenges facing in-depth analysis of Article 15(1) b
ICESCR. In its Paragraph 7, the Statement emphasizes that the nature
of scientific knowledge would need to be clarified, and also who should
decide on goals, policies, allocation of resources, and about possible
conflicts between freedom of research and the protection of other
human rights and human dignity. It emphasizes that, apart from indi-
viduals, the rights of communities to share in the benefits should be
regarded as equally important. In Paragraphs 8 to 11, macro issues are
then described, on which it seems difficult to muster general support
without much further clarification. While it is clear that science is not
merely addressing the advancement of knowledge on specific subjects,
and about procuring data sets and testing hypotheses, the Statement
goes on to postulate that at the same time it is about “enhancing the
conditions for further scientific and cultural activity” (Paragraph 8).
This automatically raises the question of who should do this, and how
this should be accomplished.
Stating that States and commercial enterprises “have a responsibility
to ensure support for scientific inquiry and dissemination of […]
knowledge and to actively pursue capacity building on a global scale”
(Paragraph 9) sounds fine as a macro-policy option, but seems far
removed from the rights-based approach which pervades the ICESCR.
The same applies to the next Paragraph 10, dealing with the relation-
ship of REBSPA and the IPR regime. When stating that an IPR regime
represents a “temporary monopoly with a valuable social function that
should be managed in accordance with a common responsibility to
prevent the inacceptable prioritization of profit for some over benefit
for all”, this undoubtedly highlights major political problems which
need urgent attention. But it may be doubted whether the CESCR is the
right body to deal with these macro-political questions. Instead, it
might be left to the intergovernmental levels of the Human Rights
Council, the General Assembly or to other international governmental
organizations. The primary focus of the ICESCR remains on the micro-
level issues of human rights of individuals and groups of individuals,
 sleeping beauty or let sleeping dogs lie?519

even if in the State reporting procedure more general problems can be

raised as overarching issues to demonstrate the influence of these
macro-level questions on the concrete implementation of each right
under the Covenant. Needless to say, the general principles flowing
from Part II of the Covenant, such as non-discrimination in all its
forms, gender equality, accountability and participation, and the
Committee’s special focus on the rights of those who need it most, i.e.
disadvantaged individuals and groups of individuals and marginalized
groups of society, serve as a chapeau, as overarching principles to be
read in conjunction with each of the specific Covenant rights, and thus
also Article15 ICESCR in all its ramifications.
The Venice Statement rightly also emphasizes that in its interpreta-
tion Article 15(1) b has to be closely aligned with Article 15(1) a and
15(1) c–on which General Comments already exist–but even more
than those provisions Articles 15(2)–(4) ICESCR must be taken into
account; in fact, they are inextricably linked, as the Venice Statement
correctly remarks in its Paragraph 12 (d). Even if that Statement goes
very far in linking individual rights dimensions of REBSPA with macro-
policy issues on which consensus is difficult, to say the least, it is a good
starting point for further reflection.
In conclusion, the rather sceptical views on the present state of
REBSPA outlined above have not been dispelled by the Venice
Statement of 2009, but that document is contributing to renewed think-
ing, reflection and definitional work which will undoubtedly influence
the further fate of the Right of Everyone to Enjoy the Benefits of
Scientific Progress and its Application.20

20
This article develops ideas presented at the UNESCO meeting in Venice, 16–17
July 2009, and pays tribute to Rüdiger Wolfrum’s incessant work on many areas of
international law and, in particular, the advancement of human rights, as evidenced by
his membership of the UN Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination.
 The International Covenant on Civil and
Political Rights: Moving from Coexistence to
Cooperation and Solidarity

Anja Seibert-Fohr

A. Introduction

The academic writing of Rüdiger Wolfrum to whom this essay is

dedicated is comprehensive and renders it difficult to keep a track of
or even more to aspire a similar vigour of scholarship. His work is a
constant source of inspiration, and despite its breadth it is based on
a common ground which offers orientation. Pointing the way ahead
with his treatise on the internationalization of global commons his
concern has been for international law as a value-based order which
goes beyond mere coexistence and involves the commonly shared
interests of the international community.1 Accordingly in the conclu-
sion to his recent edited collection entitled “Solidarity–A Structural
Principle of International Law” he called upon scholars of international
law further to “go through international law to see to what extent these
international agreements or customary international law either explic-
itly refer to solidarity or where you can argue by looking into these
agreements that they are structured or based upon the notion of soli-
darity.”2 Academia has focused mainly on such areas of international
law as peace and security, international environmental law, interna-
tional economic law and the law of the sea to demonstrate aspects of
solidarity.3 International human rights law has also been identified as
showing a common concern, but solidarity has been considered here
primarily in the context of solidarity rights, social and economic rights

1
R. Wolfrum, Die Internationalisierung staatsfreier Räume (1984).
2
R. Wolfrum / C. Kojima (eds.), Solidarity–A Structural Principle of International
Law, at 227 (2010).
3
R. Wolfrum, Solidarity amongst States: An Emerging Structural Principle of
International Law, in: P.-M. Dupuy et al. (eds.) Völkerrecht als Wertordnung, Festschrift
C. Tomuschat, at 1087–1101 (2006). R. St. J. Macdonald, Solidarity in the Practice and
Discourse of Public International Law, 8 Pace Int’l L. Rev. 259 (1996).
522 anja seibert-fohr

or humanitarian intervention.4 This, however, paints only part of the

picture. In the following essay, taking up the honouree’s challenge,
I will identify additional aspects of international human rights law
which require more attention in the future as they offer new areas for
solidarity, and thus for the effective protection of human rights more
generally.
Considering Rüdiger Wolfrum’s view that solidarity involves three
different, not necessarily cumulative aspects–“the achievement of com-
mon objectives through common action of States, the achievement of
common objectives through differentiated obligations of States and
actions to benefit particular States”5–this essay will mainly focus on
the first notion and will apply it as a prism through which to analyse
the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR). The
purpose is to show that not only do the so-called second and third
generations of human rights counsel for solidarity by the larger com-
munity of states but also civil and political rights which are tradition-
ally considered to rest exclusively within the responsibility of the
jurisdictional state.
The central question of my analysis is whether and to what extent
States parties are bound to protect civil and political rights beyond
their jurisdictions in cases of gross abuse as a matter of solidarity with
the people who are suffering. I will argue that with the evolving notion

4
K. Vasak, For the Third Generation of Human Rights: The Right of Solidarity,
Inaugural Lecture to the Tenth Study Session of the International Institute of
Human Rights, Strasbourg, France, 2–27 July 1979; E. Riedel, Theorie der
Menschenrechtsstandards: Funktion, Wirkungsweise und Begründung wirtschaftli-
cher und sozialer Menschenrechte mit exemplarischer Darstellung der Rechte auf
Eigentum und Arbeit in verschiedenen Rechtsordnungen (1986); C. Wellman,
Solidarity, the Individual and Human Rights, 22 Human Rights Quarterly 639 (2000);
N. Roht-Arriaza / S. C. Aminzadeh, Solidarity Rights (Development, Peace,
Environment, Humanitarian Assistance), in R. Wolfrum (ed.), EPIL, available at http://
www.mpepil.com. R. B. Lillich, The role of the UN Security Council in protecting
human rights in crisis situations, 3 Tul. J. Int’l & Comp. L. 1 (1995); M. Falk, The
Legality of Humanitarian Intervention: A Review in Light of Recent UN Practice
(1996); S. D. Murphy, Humanitarian Intervention: The United Nations in an Evolving
World Order (1996); A. Cassese, Ex iniuria ius oritur: Are We Moving towards
International Legitimation of Forcible Humanitarian Countermeasures in the World
Community?, 10 (1) EJIL 23 (1999); C. Greenwood, Humanitarian intervention: the
case of Kosovo, 10 Finnish Yb. Int’l L. 141 (2002); R. Kolb, Note on humanitarian inter-
vention, 85 (849) Int’l Rev. of the Red Cross 119 (2003); T. M. Franck, Humanitarian
and other interventions, 43 Col. J. Transnat’l L. 321 (2005); W. M. Reisman, Present
Problems of the Use of Armed Force in International Law, 72 Annuaire de l’Institut de
Droit International 237.
5
R. Wolfrum, Solidarity amongst States (note 3), at 1087.
moving from coexistence to cooperation and solidarity523

of the responsibility to protect in international law and the erga omnes

concept there is a need also to take a fresh look at the ICCPR. Comparing
contemporary with early treaty practice there have already been con-
siderable advances in making human rights protection more effective;
nevertheless the implementation of the Covenant is hindered by the
reluctance of States parties to take an active stance towards treaty
enforcement. While the Covenant is based on coexisting territorial
governance, a new reflection on the notion of erga omnes partes obliga-
tions under the Covenant is needed for those cases where victims are
unable to seek protection. In order to elucidate this, the next part of
this essay looks back to the origins and the early practice of the
Covenant and identifies shortcomings in its initial enforcement
(B.). Some of these flaws persist even today as the obligation to take
action in solidarity beyond the confines of national jurisdiction remains
controversial (C.). But at least there is a trend towards adopting such
measures. Looking beyond the treaty regime to customary interna-
tional law and its evolution helps us to recognize that several States are
ready to act in solidarity with victims of grave human rights violations
(D.). This trend offers a new perspective also for human rights treaties.
The final part therefore identifies and advocates ways for States parties
to exercise more solidarity in the implementation and enforcement of
the Covenant in the future (E.).

B. Looking Back: The Origins and Early Practice

of the Covenant

I. The Common Objective of Human Rights Protection

The first aspect of solidarity, the need to recognize human rights as a
common objective, was realized in the aftermath of WW II. In an effort
to further universal human rights protection and to specify the human
rights commitment of the United Nations the International Bill of
Rights confirmed that the protection of human rights constitutes a
common concern of the international community.6 The experience
of the horrendous crimes committed by the Nazi regime and the failure

6
For the reference to the UN-Charter see the Preamble to the Universal Declaration
of Human Rights, GA. Res. 217A (III), U.N. Doc A/810 para 5 and the Preamble to the
ICESCR and the ICCPR, GA. Res. 2200A (XXI), UN GAOR 21st Sess., Supp. 16, UN.
Doc. A/6316.
524 anja seibert-fohr

of the earlier co-existence paradigm of international law led to the

adoption of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights in 1948.7 By
adopting the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights and
the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights
almost 18 years later the signing states reasoned their commitment to
promote universal respect for human rights and freedoms as the “rec-
ognition of the inherent dignity and of the equal and inalienable rights
of all members of the human family is the foundation of freedom,
justice and peace in the world” (emphasis added).8 With the formula-
tion of these rights common values which are fundamental for the
international community as such were specified and codified in a
legally binding instrument.

II. Common Action

1. The Covenant and its Enforcement during the Cold War
The achievement of these objectives through common action of States,
the second element of solidarity, however, was hampered during the
early decades. Though the Covenant provides for the monitoring of its
implementation by the Human Rights Committee there was little com-
mon action on the part of states parties to complement this important
task. When the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights
entered into force in 1976 its enforcement suffered from the Cold War.9
Even during the drafting of the Covenant representatives of the Soviet
Union had maintained that the implementation of human rights was
within the exclusive competence of the States parties and outside the
scope of any external monitoring.10 They had insisted on state sover-
eignty and thus opposed any kind of enforcement regime including the
review of reports.11 This narrow reading of Art. 2 (7) UNC was rejected

    7
 GA. Res. 217A (III), U.N. Doc A/810.
    8
Preamble to the ICCPR (note 6).
    9
 N. Ando, The Development of the Human Rights Committee’s Procedure to
Consider the States Parties’ Reports under Article 40 of the International Covenant on
Civil and Political Rights, in M. G. Kohen (ed.), Promoting Justice, Human Rights and
Conflict Resolution through International Law: Liber Amicorum Lucius Caflisch,
17, at 18, 21–22 (2007).
10
UN Doc. E/CN.4/353 (1949), at 2; UN GAOR (V), UN Doc. A/1576, Annexes,
Agenda item 63.
11
Sapozhnikov (Ukraine), Morozov (USSR), UN Doc. E/CN.4/SR.429 (1954),
at 11.
moving from coexistence to cooperation and solidarity525

by the General Assembly on the basis of Art. 56 UNC.12 But with the
adoption of the state reporting mechanism as the only compulsory
instrument a soft enforcement system was adopted while individual
and state communications were (and still are) optional, requiring an
additional declaration of recognition, accession to or ratification of the
Optional Protocol.13
Communist doctrine argued that this enforcement regime prevented
foreign states from interfering with the sovereign competence to imple-
ment the Covenant.14 It rebutted any foreign demand that it respect the
civil and political rights guaranteed in the treaty as an illegal interfer-
ence with its internal affairs15 and argued that the Covenant with the
state reporting procedure provided a lex specialis instrument for
enforcement which ousted any other means of enforcement, including
dispute settlement and claims arising from state responsibility.16
Though this argument attracted opposition in Western legal writing,17
the instances in which Western democracies reacted to or officially
intervened because of human rights violations committed abroad were
rare and concerned only the most serious cases of abuse.18 Thus, while
human rights were considered common concerns of all states, the pro-
cess of monitoring was largely left to the Human Rights Committee
which, too, suffered from the impact of the Cold War in its operation
due to a narrow interpretation of the ICCPR by its members from com-
munist countries.19

12
UN GAOR (V), UN Doc. A/1576, Annexes, Agenda item 63, at 32 (para. 60).
13
Article 41 (1) ICCPR; Article 1 Optional Protocol to the ICCPR, GA Res. 2200A
(XXI), UN Doc. A/6316.
14
For a more detailed account see B. Simma, Zwischenstaatliche Durchsetzung ver-
einbarter Menschenrechte, in I. v. Münch (ed.), Staatsrecht–Völkerrecht–Europarecht,
Festschrift H. J. Schlochauer, 635, at 636 (1981).
15
U. Beyerlin, Menschenrechte und Intervention: Analyse der west-östlichen
Menschenrechtskontroverse von 1977/78, in B. Simma / E. Blenk-Knocke (eds.),
Zwischen Intervention und Zusammenarbeit: Interdisziplinäre Arbeitsergebnissse zu
Grundfragen der KSZE, 157 (1979).
16
M. Mohr, 29 Staat und Recht 172 (1980).
17
See, e.g., B. Simma, Zwischenstaatliche Durchsetzung (note 14), at 635.
18
With the Helsinki Final Act of 1973 a more active approach developed within
the Conference on Security and Co-operation in Europe and later the Organization for
Security and Co-operation in Europe. J. A. Frowein, The Interrelationship between
the Helsinki Final Act, the International Covenants on Human Rights, and the
European Convention on Human Rights, in T. Buergenthal (ed.), Human Rights,
International Law and the Helsinki Accord, 71 (1977).
19
 N. Ando, Development (note 9), at 18, 21–22.
526 anja seibert-fohr

2. The Human Rights Committee: Effectuating Individual Rights

through a Cooperative Approach
Consequently a practice evolved under the Covenant which was
primarily bilateral between the Committee and the reporting state.20
Nevertheless, the Human Rights Committee has engaged states in
a constructive dialogue and has been able to develop a notable work,
as evidenced by its concluding observations, general comments and
views on individual communications.21 The following part, by elaborat-
ing on the Committee’s work, explains that as an institutionalized form
of cooperation its accomplishments can be considered an achievement
of common objectives through common action in the sense of the
above-stated solidarity definition.
a) Rendering the Institutional Enforcement Regime more Effective
Over the past decades the Committee has refined existing procedures
in order to apply the treaty mechanisms as effectively as possible.22
With respect to the individual communications procedure a follow-up
procedure has been devised in order to inquire into the implementa-
tion of the Committee’s views and the Committee regularly takes
interim measures to avoid irreparable injury to the victim of alleged
violations.23 Most notably, with respect to the reporting procedure,
in 1992 the Committee started to adopt concluding observations on

20
For an early account see R. Wolfrum, Reports of Member States Before the U.N.
Human Rights Committee on the International Covenant on Political and Civil Rights,
in H. H. Han (ed.), World in Transition: Challenges to Human Rights, Development
and World Order, at 55 (1979).
21
It is interesting to note that the adoption of concluding observations was possi-
ble only after the end of the Cold War when the Committee in 1992 decided to modify
its method of work. Earlier members from communist countries had objected to
special views with respect to the report of each individual State Party. N. Ando,
Development (note 9), at 21–22, 26. For an evaluation of the effectiveness of the
Committee’s work see E. Klein, Stimmen Zweck und Mittel im internationalen
Menschenrechtsschutz überein? Überlegungen anhand des Menschenrechtsauss­
chusses der Vereinten Nationen, in M. Wittinger / R. Wendt / G. Ress (eds.), Verfassung-
Völkerrecht-Kulturgüterschutz, 511 (2011).
22
Id., at 26. For a comparative overview of the different reporting mechanisms see
R. Wolfrum, The Reporting System under International Human Rights Agreements–
From the Collection of Information to Compliance Assistance, in M. Bothe (ed.),
Towards a better Implementation of International Humanitarian Law, at 19 (2001). For
an elaborate review of the UN treaty mechanisms and suggestions for reforms to ren-
der them more effective A. F. Bayefsky, The UN Human Rights Treaty System:
Universality at the Crossroads (2001).
23
Rule of Procedure 92 of the Human Rights Committee, UN Doc. CCPR/C/3/
Rev. 9 (2011).
moving from coexistence to cooperation and solidarity527

each state report.24 With this step it overcame the former objections of
communist doctrine and thus left behind the Cold War era. Later on,
in order to advance the efficiency of the dialogue with the States par-
ties, country report task forces were introduced to identify in advance
focal issues to be discussed with the representatives of the reporting
State. The list of issues enables State representatives adequately to pre-
pare the discussion with the Human Rights Committee and aims for a
focused discussion of crucial issues identified with respect to each indi-
vidual State party.
When a State party fails to submit a report the Committee consid-
ers the human rights situation in that country and transmits its
provisional concluding observations according to a procedure specially
adopted for such instances.25 In addition to the regular reports special
Reports have been requested with respect to urgent situations, such as
in the case of the former Yugoslavia, Burundi, Rwanda and Haiti.26
In order to ensure that States parties submit information to the
Committee about the steps taken in response to pressing recommenda-
tions a follow-up procedure has been devised for concluding observa-
tions.27 Furthermore, the Committee currently considers follow-up
visits to assess more thoroughly the implementation of its recommen-
dations at the national level.28 In an effort to facilitate and render the
entire state reporting procedure more efficient the Committee adopted
a new optional reporting procedure (LOIPR) to focus its work on
selected most relevant issues in September 2010.29 In lieu of a periodic
report a focused report replies to a list of issues pointed out by the
Committee and provides the basis for the Committee’s further consid-
eration under the reporting procedure. States parties may opt for this
procedure in order to fulfil their reporting obligations in a timely and
effective manner.

24
 GAOR, 47th Sess., Supp. 40, UN Doc. A/47/40, chap. I, sect. E, para. 18.
25
Rule of Procedure 70 of the Human Rights Committee, UN Doc. CCPR/C/3/
Rev. 9 (2011).
26
Reports of the Human Rights Committee, UN Doc. A/48/40, part I, at 15 and 212
et seq; UN Doc. A/49/40, vol. I, at 14–15, 58 seq.; UN Doc. A/50/40, vol. I, 14 and 40
seq.
27
 GAOR, 57th Sess., Supp. 40, UN Doc. A/57/40, vol. I, annex III, sect. A.
28
 GAOR, 64th Sess., Supp. 40, UN Doc. A/64/40, vol. I, annex VI, para 8.
29
 Human Rights Committee, Focused reports based on replies to lists of issues
prior to reporting (LOIPR): Implementation of the new optional reporting procedure
(LOIPR procedure), UN Doc. CCPR/C/99/4 (2010).
528 anja seibert-fohr

b) The Human Rights Committee as an Institutionalized

Form of Cooperation
While the dialogue with each State party is bilateral, it constitutes an
institutionalized form of cooperation. Representing the community of
all the States parties which elect its 18 members, the work of the
Committee represents a cooperative undertaking by its now 167 States
parties to ensure the effective protection of human rights.30 States par-
ties have delegated to the members of the Committee who serve in
their personal capacity and perform their functions impartially and
conscientiously31 the authority to consider within the contemplated
procedures whether the obligations undertaken under the Covenant
are properly given effect to.32 Each of the Committee’s recommenda-
tions is a pronouncement of a body trusted by all States parties to the
effect that the achievement of their common objective requires addi-
tional steps of implementation.33
While the Human Rights Committee over the years has had the
opportunity to develop a substantial body of pronouncements under
the state reporting and individual communications procedure, one of
the three instruments of the Covenant has played no role at all over the
past 35 years: not a single state so far has taken the opportunity to bring
a formal communication to the attention of another State Party claim-
ing that it is not fulfilling its obligations under the Covenant and to
refer the matter to the Committee pursuant to Article 41 ICCPR.34
Though 48 States parties have accepted the competence of the Human
Rights Committee to receive and consider such communications the
procedure is mute. This is plainly not for the lack of human rights vio-
lations committed worldwide, but apparently goes back to a persistent

30
For the notion of “collective enforcement” see European Convention of Human
Rights and Fundamental Freedoms, Rome (4 November 1950), ETS No. 005, Preamble,
para. 5. The European Court of Human Rights in the Northern Ireland Case explained
that the European Human Rights Convention created a “network of mutual, bilateral
undertaking”. European Court of Human Rights, Ireland v. UK, Ser. A, Vol. 25,
para 239.
31
Arts. 38 and 40 ICCPR.
32
Article 40 ICCPR.
33
For the legal relevance of the Committee’s pronouncements see A. Seibert-Fohr,
The Fight against Impunity under the International Covenant on Civil and Political
Rights, in: 6 MPYUNL 301, at 308–312 (2002).
34
The provision became operative between those States parties declaring that they
recognized the competence of the Committee to receive and consider such communi-
cations on 28 March 1979.
moving from coexistence to cooperation and solidarity529

sense originating during the Cold War that bringing communications

is not a matter proper for foreign states.35

C. Taking a Contemporary Look: Responsibility to Protect?

This kind of reticence by States parties in cases where victims are una-
ble to defend themselves against serious abuses is difficult to reconcile
with the commitment of all States parties in the Preamble to the
Covenant “to promote universal respect for, and observance of, human
rights and freedoms” and thus to promote freedom, justice and peace
in the world.36 Without a more active approach to this promise which
assists the Human Rights Committee to fulfill its task of promoting
human rights protection the commitment to truly universal values
risks being a mere chimaera. The next part of this essay therefore looks
for grounds for States to develop a more solidarity-oriented approach
to the enforcement of Covenant rights. It will analyse the obligations of
States with respect to third-party nationals to see if they are obliged, or
at least encouraged, to take action against serious abuses committed by
the country of origin in solidarity with the victims. The purpose of this
stock-taking is not to read premature notions of solidarity into the
Covenant but to see to what extent the treaty as it is currently under-
stood provides for a responsibility to protect. While lex lata shortcom-
ings of the Covenant will be recognized, current developments in
international law show an emerging responsibility to protect which
may ultimately also impact on the human rights treaty regimes.

35
For other reasons see Y. Tyagi, The UN Human Rights Committee: Practice and
Procedure, 381–382 (2011). For a critical appraisal of this option see also S. Lecki, The
Inter-State Complaint Procedure in International Human Rights Law: Hopeful
Prospects or Wishful Thinking?, 10 HRQ 298 (1988). On inter-state complaints see
also K. J. Partsch, Human Rights, Interstate Disputes, in R. Wolfrum (ed.), United
Nations: Law, Policies and Practice, Vol. I, at 613.
36
For the assertion that States parties should not be permitted to take a neutral posi-
tion but should take a more active stance towards treaty enforcement see E. Klein, Die
Verantwortung der Vertragsparteien: Überlegungen zu einer effektiveren Durchsetzung
menschenrechtlicher Verpflichtungen, in H.-J. Cremer et al. (eds.), Tradition und
Weltoffenheit des Rechts: Festschrift für Helmut Steinberger, 243, 258 (2002). For the
responsibility of States parties to stand up for the integrity of the ICCPR see also
A. Seibert-Fohr, The Potentials of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties with
Respect to Reservations to Human Rights Treaties, in: I. Ziemele (ed.), Reservations to
Human Rights Treaties and the Vienna Convention Regime–Conflict, Harmony or
Reconciliation, 183, at 207 (2004).
530 anja seibert-fohr

I. The Scope of the Obligation to Respect and Ensure

The question whether there is a duty to protect victims of serious
human rights violations from abroad has been discussed for some time.
Though there are efforts to anchor a responsibility to protect on the
international plane37 it is controversial whether the moral ­responsibility
has already entered the realm of legally binding obligations. Since the
issue whether and to what extent the UN Charter requires a more vig-
orous commitment by its Members and the United Nations has already
been considered at length elsewhere,38 I will focus here on the question
whether States parties to the ICCPR are legally bound to intervene in
the case of serious human rights violations committed abroad. For this
purpose it is necessary to consider the implementation scheme of the
International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights in more detail and
to ask about the scope of obligations under its Article 2.
Pursuant to Article 2 (1) the duty to respect and ensure the Covenant
rights is incumbent upon each state party vis-à-vis all individuals
“within its territory and subject to its jurisdiction”.39 There has been
some discussion about the interpretation of the jurisdictional scope
and the prevailing interpretation holds that its reach goes beyond the
territory of each state if a state exercises effective control over persons
outside its territory.40 According to the Human Rights Committee “a
State party must respect and ensure the rights laid down in the Covenant
to anyone within the power or effective control of that State Party, even
if not situated within the territory of the State Party.”41 This was

37
Report of the International Commission on Intervention and State Sovereignty,
Responsibility to Protect, para. 1.38 (2001), available at http://www.iciss.ca/report-en
.asp.
38
For the Responsibility to Protect which formed part of the 2005 World Summit
Outcome see UN Doc. A/RES/60/1, paras. 138–139; A.-M. Slaughter, Security,
Solidarity, and Sovereignty: The Grand Themes of UN Reform, 99 Am. J. Int’l L. 619
(2005); L. Boisson de Chazournes, Responsibility to Protect: Reflecting Solidarity?, in:
R. Wolfrum / C. Kojima (eds.), Solidarity (note 2), at 93. See also O. Corten / P. Klein,
Droit d’Ingerence ou Obligation de Reaction? (1996).
39
Article 1 (2) ICCPR.
40
For the discussion see D. McGoldrick, Extraterritorial Application of the
International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, in F. Coomans / M. T. Kamminga
(eds.), Extraterritorial Application of Human Rights Treaties, 41 (2004), M. Scheinin,
Extraterritorial Effect of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, in
id., at 73; M. Milanovic, Extraterritorial Application of Human Rights Treaties: Law,
Principles and Policy (2011).
41
 Human Rights Committee, General Comment 31, Nature of the General Legal
Obligation on States Parties to the Covenant, UN Doc. CCPR/C/21/Rev.1/Add.13,
para. 10 (2004).
moving from coexistence to cooperation and solidarity531

confirmed by the ICJ in its Wall Advisory Opinion.42 But though the
obligation transcends the confines of national borders there is little
indication under the currently prevailing interpretation of Article 2 (1)
that it obliges third countries to intervene in the event of abuse by other
countries. The reference to effective control shows that the primary
responsibility is with the acting state. It is difficult to argue that those
who suffer from violations are “within the power or effective control”
of a third party pursuant to the above-cited General Comment, given
that in fact they are suffering as a result of the effective control exer-
cised by another state.
The limited scope of the treaty obligations and its focus on jurisdic-
tion are the result of the model of parallel implementation which was
envisaged in the drafting history of the ICCPR and which continues to
inform its present practice.43 During the discussions in 1955 several
members of the UN Human Rights Commission pointed out that it
was not possible for a state to protect the rights of persons when they
were outside its territory, and that in such cases action would be pos-
sible only through diplomatic channels.44 René Cassin explained as a
member of the Commission that “the rights recognized in the covenant
were of a territorial nature and could not in practice be ensured outside
the territory of the contracting State.”45 Though ultimately in Article 2
(1) a provision was adopted which extends the scope of application also
to areas beyond its borders over which a party exercises jurisdiction,
the drafters did not intend to establish obligations beyond the reach of
their jurisdiction. The phrase “within its territory and subject to its
jurisdiction” was meant to limit the scope of each State’s responsibility
according to its capabilities.
In this respect the Covenant differs from the Genocide Convention,
which provides for a different scheme. Pursuant to Article I of the latter
the Contracting Parties “undertake to prevent and punish” genocide
without any reference to territorial scope. The duty to prevent provided

42
According to the ICJ States parties to the Covenant are bound to comply with its
provisions if they exercise jurisdiction outside their national territory. International
Court of Justice, Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied
Palestinian Territory, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Reports 2004, 136, paras. 107–111. See
also Provisional Measures, Georgia v. Russia, Order of 15 October 2008, ICJ Reports
2008, 397.
43
UN Doc. E/CN.4/SR.138, para. 35 (1950).
44
UN Doc. A/2929, chap. V, para. 4 (1955); E/CN.4/SR.194 (1950), para. 16.
45
E/CN.4/SR.194 (1950), para. 19. For a similar statement by the representative of
Uruguay see id., para. 30.
532 anja seibert-fohr

the basis for the International Court of Justice to declare Serbia in

breach of its obligations under the Convention in the Bosnian Genocide
Case because of its failure to take action against the Srebrenica geno-
cide.46 Considering the difference in wording of the two conventions, it
is difficult, however, to apply the same reasoning also to the International
Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. This is even more so since the
ICJ was cautious enough to emphasize that “[t]he decision of the Court
does not, in this case, purport to establish a general jurisprudence
applicable to all cases where a treaty instrument, or other binding legal
norm, includes an obligation for States to prevent certain acts.”47
Leaving aside the question whether a more comprehensive obligation
extending beyond States parties’ jurisdiction would be desirable, under
the current interpretation of Article 2 (1) there is no ground for assum-
ing that States parties are legally bound to prevent human rights viola-
tions committed by other states or, phrased differently, that the
Covenant is based on an obligation to exercise solidarity.
Turning to the second paragraph of the provision, the result is simi-
larly sobering. Paragraph 2 specifies the duty to respect and to ensure
the Covenant rights, and obliges States parties to take the necessary
steps to adopt laws and other measures necessary to give effect to the
Covenant rights where they are not already provided for by existing
legislative or other measures. Though this provision does not specify
territorial scope, its reference to existing legislation and other measures
suggests that it is meant to address the obligation of each state within its
jurisdiction, that is the area for which it can legitimately legislate. This
is confirmed by the drafting history which focused exclusively on
domestic measures without even considering the possibility of extra-
jurisdictional means of intervention.48 A narrow reading is also sup-
ported by a contextual interpretation. While the first paragraph of
Article 2 outlines the overall obligation to respect and ensure, the next

46
International Court of Justice, Judgment of 26 February 2007, Application of the
Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide, Bosnia and
Herzegovina v. Serbia and Montenegro, para. 438, available at http://www.icj-cij.org/
docket/files/91/13685.pdf. For an analysis of this judgment see A. Seibert-Fohr, State
Responsibility for Genocide under the Genocide Convention, in P. Gaeta (ed.), The
UN Genocide Convention–A Commentary, at 349 (2009).
47
International Court of Justice, Genocide case (note 46), para. 429.
48
UN Secretary-General, Annotations on the text of the draft International
Covenants on Human Rights, UN Doc. A/2929, paras. 7–12; M.J. Bossuyt, Guide to the
“travaux préparatoires” of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, at
58–62 (1987).
moving from coexistence to cooperation and solidarity533

paragraph specifies this notion by requiring the States Parties to under-

take steps to implement the Covenant rights. There are therefore good
reasons to consider the territorial scope of paragraph 1 to be also appli-
cable to paragraph 2. Deriving from the Covenant a comprehensive
legal obligation of states to protect all victims abroad from human
rights violations by others would overstretch the existing interpreta-
tion of the term “jurisdiction” and its premise that the primary respon-
sibility for implementation is with the jurisdictional state.
This conclusion, however, should not be interpreted so as to give
states a charter. If a State party encourages, recognizes, assists or takes
advantage of such violations there is a close causal link between its
behaviour and the violation49 which can provide the basis for the
“power or effective control” the Human Rights Committee considers
necessary for jurisdiction according to its above-cited General
Comment, even if victims live abroad. There is no room, though, to
elaborate on this matter here since this essay is concerned with the
issue whether states are obliged to take measures even if they are not
involved in human rights abuses.

II. Erga Omnes and Jus Cogens Obligations

While there is at present no indication that States would generally be
obliged under Article 2 to take action if civil or political rights were
violated abroad without their involvement, it is debatable whether this
position also prevails in cases of particularly serious human rights vio-
lations where protection would entirely fail without solidarity action.
Arguably there is a subsidiary responsibility of all States parties to
ensure that the guarantee of basic rights is not nullified by gross and
systematic human rights violations, so that in grave cases none of them
may remain passive without jeopardizing the object and purpose of
the Covenant. This leads to the question whether a duty to protect
can be derived from the erga omnes nature of some Covenant rights.50

49
Arguably the recognition of a human rights violation constitutes a tacit encour-
agement of the violation.
50
Though this is a concept of general international law it cannot be schematically
separated from human rights treaty law since both deal in part with the same subject
matter–the protection of human rights–and the substantive meaning of erga omnes
obligations is influenced to a substantial extent by the international human rights
instruments. For the recognition of this overlap see Human Rights Committee, General
Comment No. 31 (note 41), para. 2. For the relationship between customary inter­
national law and human rights see E. Klein (ed.), Menschenrechtsschutz durch
Gewohnheitsrecht (2003).
534 anja seibert-fohr

The issue whether States are legally bound to take action upon the
breach of erga omnes obligations is controversial.51 The International
Court of Justice dealt with the question of third party obligations in its
Wall Advisory Opinion. The majority of judges held with respect to the
right to self-determination and certain obligations under international
humanitarian law that, due to the erga omnes nature of these norms,
other States were obliged not to recognize the illegal situation resulting
from the violation and not to render assistance in maintaining it.52 The
Court further stated that it is for all States to ensure that any impedi-
ment to the right to self-determination is brought to an end.53 This line
of reasoning was followed by the Institut de Droit International in 2005
when it stated in its Obligations Erga Omnes Resolution that all States
“shall endeavour to bring the breach of an erga omnes obligation to an
end through lawful means in accordance with the Charter of the United
Nations” and “shall not recognize as lawful a situation created by the
breach”.54 Judges Higgins and Kooijmans, however, objected in their
separate opinions to the Wall Advisory Opinion.55 They explained that
the erga omnes concept which obliges States to refrain from violations
does not involve obligations for third States.56 Though the obligation to
respect certain fundamental norms is owed to the international com-
munity of states it gives other members of the community only the
competence, but not the duty, to claim observance according to the
conventional understanding of the erga omnes principle.

51
The question of third party obligations has been discussed by the author of this
contribution with respect to the duty to prosecute serious human rights violations:
see A. Seibert-Fohr, Prosecuting Serious Human Rights Violations, at 253 (2009).
52
International Court of Justice, Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall
in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Reports 2004, at 136,
paras. 155–159.
53
Id., at 159.
54
The Institute dealt with obligations “under a multilateral treaty that a State party
to the treaty owes in any given case to all the other States parties to the same treaty, in
view of their common values and concern for compliance, so that a breach of that obli-
gation enables all these States to take action” (Article 1) and held that in case of a grave
breach of such an obligation “all the States to which the obligation is owed:
(a) shall endeavour to bring the breach to an end through lawful means in accord-
ance with the Charter of the United Nations;
(b) shall not recognize as lawful a situation created by the breach […]”. Article 5,
Institut de Droit International, Obligations and Rights Erga Omnes in Interna­
tional Law, Rapporteur: Giorgio Gaja (2005) 71 (1) Annuaire de l’Institut de Droit
International 116–212.
55
Separate Opinion of Judge Kooijmans, id. (note 52), at para. 41.
56
Separate Opinion of Judge Kooijmans, id. (note 52), at paras. 40, Separate Opinion
of Judge Higgins, id. (note 52) at 33–35.
moving from coexistence to cooperation and solidarity535

Alternatively, efforts have been undertaken to derive a universal

obligation to take lawful action from the jus cogens nature of the prohi-
bition of the most serious human rights violations. Article 41 of the
International Law Commission’s Draft articles on State Responsibility
provides that “States shall cooperate to bring to an end through lawful
means any serious breach within the meaning of article 40” regardless
of whether they are affected and shall not recognize as lawful a situa-
tion created by such a breach nor render aid or assistance in maintain-
ing that situation. Article 40 refers to serious breaches, that is gross or
systematic violations, of an obligation arising under a peremptory
norm of general international law. Both provisions suggest that States
are bound to cooperate in order to end serious human rights violations,
such as genocide, slavery, slave trade, racial discrimination, torture,
apartheid and the failure to respect the right of self-determination.57
It is unclear whether this goes beyond cooperative means of action and
involves an individual obligation of a third State.58 Article 40 does not
specify the requested “lawful means”; it simply requires States to coop-
erate, and the ILC Commentary leaves the choice of means to the
States,59 merely calling for “a joint and coordinated effort by all States”
without referring to individual steps.60
Whether the demand that States shall cooperate to end jus cogens
violations already constitutes lex lata is controversial. While there is an
undeniable trend moving from a moral responsibility to a legal obliga-
tion, at least within the framework of international organizations, at
this moment it is probably best qualified as an area of emerging rules of
international law.61 This is also the position of the ILC, which explained
in its commentary on Article 41 that “[i]t may be open to question
whether general international law at present prescribes a positive duty
of cooperation, and paragraph 1 in that respect may reflect the progres-
sive development of international law.”62

57
For the jus cogens nature of these prohibitions see Draft Articles on Responsibility
of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts, with commentaries 2001, Article 40,
Commentary, paras. 4–5 (A/56/10).
58
According to Judge Kooijmans Article 41 (1) does not refer to individual state
obligations. Id. (note 52), at para. 42. Pursuant to the ILC commentary Article 41
envisages institutional and non-institutionalized cooperation. Article 41, Commentary
(note 57), at para. 2.
59
Commentary to Article 41 (note 57), at para. 3.
60
Id.
61
In this sense see also A. Bird, Third State Responsibility for Human Rights
Violations, 21 EJIL 883 (2010).
62
Commentary to Article 41 (note 57), at para. 3.
536 anja seibert-fohr

While there is undeniably a moral responsibility not to remain pas-

sive in cases of gross human rights abuses, proclaiming an obligation of
States parties to take solidarity measures thus appears premature. But
though the issue whether and to what extent States are legally bound to
take action to bring grave human rights violations committed abroad
to an end remains to be settled in the future, the debate indicates an
important current trend which is relevant for our solidarity analysis.
States are increasingly willing to take an active approach to the enforce-
ment of fundamental human rights and other peremptory norms of
international law, even if they are not affected by a breach. As the ILC
indicated, “such cooperation, especially in the framework of interna-
tional organizations, is carried out already in response to the gravest
breaches of international law.”63

D. Looking Beyond the ICCPR: Human Rights and

State Responsibility

Turning now to the question whether and, if so, which measures states
are allowed to take in solidarity with victims of human rights viola-
tions, it is important to note an evolution in international law over
recent decades.

I. The Early Controversy: Human Rights Treaties as

Self-Contained Regimes?
The issue how States parties may act in response to human rights viola-
tions committed abroad if the victims are not their nationals is not
new.64 It has been discussed since the 1970s when some authors rejected
third-party intervention beyond the means provided for in human
rights treaties, claiming that they provided for exclusive means to
enforce the human rights obligations.65 They pointed to the specific

63
Id.
64
Most early literature on the ICCPR treated the Covenant mechanisms as exclu-
sive. See e.g. Humphrey, The International Law of Human Rights in the Middle
Twentieth Century, in M. Bos (ed.), The Present State of International Law and Other
Essays, 75, at 86 (1973). For the exclusion of reprisals and means which go beyond an
informal protest see J. A. Frowein, Interrelationship (note 18), at 79, 82 (at note 24).
65
J. A. Frowein, Interrelationship (note 18), at 79–80. But see B. Simma, Zur
Bilateralen Durchsetzung vertraglich verankerter Menschenrechte: Aktivlegitimation
und zulässige Mittel nach allgemeinem Völkerrecht, in C. Schreuer, Autorität und
Internationale Ordnung, at 129. See also M. T. Kamminga, Inter-State Accountability
for Violations of Human Rights, at 186–190 (1992).
moving from coexistence to cooperation and solidarity537

enforcement regime established by the international human rights

treaties as the sole means of reacting to violations. Considering human
rights treaties as a self-contained regime, States parties were prevented,
so it was argued, from taking enforcement action in respect of breaches
outside the treaty complaint procedures.66 They would have to resort to
the treaty mechanism in order to require cessation of human rights
violations. Countermeasures were deemed to be impermissible.67
In order to substantiate the exclusivity thesis reference was made to
the Barcelona Traction Case. The International Court of Justice had
held in this judgement with respect to the question of standing that “on
the universal level, the instruments which embody human rights do
not confer on States the capacity to protect the victims of infringe-
ments of [human] rights irrespective of their nationality.”68 The dictum
served commentators as an argument against action by third states
outside the treaty regime.69 The lex specialis approach to human rights
treaty enforcement seemed to be affirmed by the Nicaragua Case,

66
J. A. Frowein, Interrelationship (note 18), at 80. But see Klein who maintains
that Article 44, which provides that the ICCPR does not prevent States parties from
having recourse to other dispute settlement procedures, excludes the presumption of
a self-contained regime: E. Klein, Die Verantwortung der Vertragsparteien (note 36),
at 258.
67
The question of countermeasures has been a continuing theme throughout the
drafting of the ILC’s principles on state responsibility. For a detailed account with
further references see M. Koskenniemi, Solidarity Measures: State Responsibility as a
New International Order?, 71 British YB Int’l L. 337 (2001). See also L. A. Sicilianos,
Les réactions décentralisées à l’illicite: des contre-mesures à la légitime défense (1990);
E. Klein, Gegenmaßnahmen, in W. Fiedler et al. (eds.), Gegenmaßnahmen, at 39
(1998); C. J. Tams, Enforcing Obligations Erga Omnes in International Law, at 198
(2005); M. Dawidowicz, Public Law Enforcement without Public Law Safeguards? An
Analysis of State Practice on Third-Party Countermeasures and Their Relationship to
the UN Security Council, 77 British YB Int’l L. 333 (2007). E. K. Proukaki, The Problem
of Enforcement in International Law: Countermeasures, the Non-injured State and the
Idea of International Community (2010). For the discussion on humanitarian inter-
vention see e.g. N. Wheeler, Saving Strangers: Humanitarian Intervention in
International Society (2000); T. Franck, Recourse to Force (2002). For sanctions see
M. Craven, Human Rights in the Realm of Order: Sanctions and Extraterritoriality,
in F. Coomans / M. T. Kamminga (eds.), Extraterritorial Application of Human Rights
Treaties, at 223 (2004).
68
Barcelona Traction, Light and Power Co Ltd (Belgium v. Spain), ICJ Reports 1970,
at 3, para. 91.
69
J. A. Frowein, Interrelationship (note 18), at 79; J. A. Frowein, Verpflichtungen
Erga Omnes im Völkerrecht und ihre Durchsetzung, Festschrift H. Mosler, at 243, 245,
256 (1983); D. Blumenwitz, Die deutsche Staatsangehörigkeit und die Schutzpflicht der
Bundesrepublik Deutschland, in Konflikt und Ordnung, Festschrift Murad Ferid, at
439, 443, 448 (1978). But see for a narrow reading of the dictum C. J. Tams, Enforcing
(note 67), at 162–179 with further references. See also B. Simma, Zwischenstaatliche
Durchsetzung (note 14), at 643.
538 anja seibert-fohr

in which the ICJ ruled that “where human rights are protected by inter-
national conventions, that protection takes the form of such arrange-
ments for monitoring or ensuring respect for human rights as are
provided for in the conventions themselves.”70
Commentators opposing the exclusivity thesis have tried to give
those rulings a narrower reading which does not entirely rule out third
party intervention.71 It is not the purpose of this contribution to
second-guess what the ICJ meant at the time it delivered these deci-
sions and whether a more general statement on the exclusivity of
human rights treaties was at all contemplated. In any case, considering
recent developments in international law it is questionable whether
human rights violations which are protected by international treaties
can only be claimed under the respective treaty regime to the exclusion
of invoking customary international law, at least with respect to funda-
mental human rights qualifying as erga omnes obligations.72 As the fol-
lowing section illustrates, there is an increasing consensus that such
obligations entitle all states to take action even beyond the interna-
tional treaty regimes.73 This is evidenced by the ILC Draft articles on
State Responsibility.

II. The ILC Draft Articles and Erga Omnes (Partes) Violations
The fact that human rights treaties provide for secondary obligations in
the event that the protected rights are violated did not prevent the ILC
from dealing with state responsibility for human rights violations in

70
Military and Paramilitary Activities in and against Nicaragua (Nicaragua v.
United States of America), Merits, ICJ Reports (1986), para. 267.
71
For a narrow reading of the Nicaragua ruling see B. Simma/D. Pulkowski, Of
Planets and the Universe: Self-contained Regimes in International Law, 17 EJIL 483, at
524–525 (2006); C. J. Tams, Enforcing (note 67), at 276; B. Simma, Human Rights and
State Responsibility, in A. Reinisch / U. Kriebaum (eds.), The Law of International
Relations–Liber Amicorum Hanspeter Neuhold, 359, at 362–363 (2007).
72
B. Simma, From Bilateralism to Community Interest in International Law, Recueil
des cours volume 250, issue VI, 217, at 313 et seq. (1994); B.-O. Bryde, Verpflichtungen
Erga omnes aus Menschenrechten, 33 BerDGVR 165, at 175 et seq. (1994).
73
The case is different with respect to the European human rights system with
its stronger enforcement regime which provides for judicial remedies (Article 33
ECHR) before the ECtHR which can be enforced through the CoE Committee of
Ministers. Article 55 ECHR provides that the States Parties will not avail themselves
of other mechanisms for submitting a dispute arising out of the Convention to settle-
ment. On this issue see C. Grabenwarter, Probleme paralleler Rechtsverbürgungen
durch Vertrag und Gewohnheitsrecht, in E. Klein (ed.), Menschenrechtsschutz durch
Gewohnheitsrecht, 147, at 152 (2003); C. J. Tams, Enforcing (note 67), at 283–286.
moving from coexistence to cooperation and solidarity539

these articles.74 The Commission considered the legal consequences

arising from human rights violations in several parts of its commen-
tary75 and has been careful to draft principles which take due account
of human rights law so that they can also be applied in cases of human
rights treaty violations.76 The commentary refers to a number of obliga-
tions which form part of treaties such as the Genocide Convention, the
Torture Convention and the Conventions against Racial Discrimination,
Slavery and Apartheid.77 The Commission was aware of this overlap
with treaty law and did not adopt a provision which generally excludes
the application of the Draft articles to human rights protected by these
instruments. Instead Article 55 requires a case by case analysis. It pro-
vides that the articles do not apply where and to the extent that the
conditions for the existence of an internationally wrongful act or its
legal consequences are determined by special rules of international
law.78 Though the commentary does not deny the existence of self-con-
tained regimes,79 the repeated reference to human rights forming part
of treaty regimes confirms that the latter were not considered to qualify
as self-contained a priori. Only in cases where human rights treaties
provide for special rules, such as the explicitly mentioned provision on
reparation in Article 41 of the European Human Rights Convention,
does the lex specialis principle apply.80

1. Invocation of Responsibility by Non-Injured States

For the analysis of whether states may invoke and take action upon
human rights violations committed by others in solidarity with the
victims Article 48 is relevant: it provides that if an obligation erga
omnes partes which seeks to protect a collective interest or if an obliga-
tion owed to the international community as a whole is breached,

74
For the assertion that the enforcement procedures of the universal human rights
treaties do not constitute leges speciales to Arts. 42 to 48 of the ILC Draft Articles see
B. Simma/D. Pulkowski, Of Planets and the Universe (note 71), at 525.
75
Third Report of the Special Rapporteur, Add. 4, UN Doc. A/CN.4/507/Add.4,
para 403 (2000). ILC Commentary (note 57).
76
See e.g. ILC Commentary (note 57) on Article 33, para. 3. For a detailed account
of this effort see B. Simma, Human Rights and State Responsibility (note 71), at 359.
According to his analysis “the Commission was conscious of the challenge of integrat-
ing human rights into the law on State responsibility.” Id at 381.
77
Article 40, ILC Commentary (note 57), paras. 4–5.
78
ILC Commentary (note 57), Article 55, para. 2.
79
Id., para. 5.
80
Article 55 ILC Draft Articles (note 57). See also id., para. 3.
540 anja seibert-fohr

­ on-injured states are entitled to claim: cessation for the internation-

n
ally wrongful act, the assurance and guarantee of non-repetition
and reparation in the interest of the beneficiary of the breached
obligation.81 The reference to common interests in Article 48 (1) (a)
arguably includes the obligations erga omnes partes of human rights
treaties.82 At least subparagraph (b) of the provision applies to all
human rights which qualify as erga omnes norms. The ILC commen-
tary confirms that basic human rights are among the obligations owed
to the international community, so that any state is entitled to invoke
responsibility if another state acts in violation of the prohibition
of genocide, slavery, and racial discrimination or violates the right
of self-determination.83 It is not necessary for States to act together;
every State entitled to invoke responsibility may do so unilaterally.84
The question whether there is a right also to claim reparation in the
interest of the beneficiary of the breached obligation is still unsettled.
According to the ILC Commentary, “[t]his aspect of article 48, para-
graph 2, involves a measure of progressive development”. 85 But there
is no ambiguity with respect to the claim of cessation and assurance of
non-repetition.
The right of third parties to demand the end of erga omnes violations
was affirmed by the Institut de Droit International in its ‘Obligations
Erga Omnes in International Law’ Resolution which recognizes that all
States to which an erga omnes obligation is owed are entitled to require
cessation.86 The resolution explicitly applies not only to erga omnes
obligations under general international law but also to obligations
under a multilateral treaty that a State party owes to all other States
parties “in view of their common values and concern for compliance,
so that a breach of that obligation enables all these States to take
action”.87 Taking into account the above stated objective of the ICCPR
to guarantee universal human rights protection as a common value of
all States parties it follows from this concept that every State party is

81
Article 48 (1) (a) (b) and (2) ILC Draft Articles (note 57).
82
The ILC Commentary refers to regional systems for the protection of human
rights. ILC Commentary (note 57), Article 48, para. 7. See also B. Simma, Human
Rights and State Responsibility (note 71), at 371.
83
ILC Commentary (note 57), Article 48, para. 9.
84
Id., para. 4.
85
Id., para. 12.
86
Article 2 IDI Erga Omnes (note 54).
87
Article 1 IDI Erga Omnes (note 54).
moving from coexistence to cooperation and solidarity541

entitled to demand compliance with the erga omnes partes obligations

of this treaty.88
Understood this way the Covenant does not only guarantee indi-
vidual rights but also gives rise to mutual obligations on States to fulfill
their common objective- the universal protection of human rights.89
This is recognized by the Human Rights Committee in its General
Comment on “The Nature of the General Legal Obligation Imposed on
States Parties to the Covenant”:
“While article 2 is couched in terms of the obligations of State Parties
towards individuals as the right-holders under the Covenant, every State
Party has a legal interest in the performance by every other State Party of
its obligations. This follows from the fact that the ‘rules concerning the
basic rights of the human person’ are erga omnes obligations […].
Furthermore, the contractual dimension of the treaty involves any State
Party to a treaty being obligated to every other State Party to comply with
its undertakings under the treaty.”90
With this overlap of erga omnes customary human rights and erga
omnes partes obligations of the Covenant States are entitled to chal-
lenge violations not only under the Covenant but also under the rules
of state responsibility. There is no reason why the Covenant’s state com-
munication procedure should as lex specialis prevent the right to claim
cessation of human rights violations and to demand assurance and
guarantee of non-repetition. To the contrary, it is logically presupposed
by this procedure.91 This was affirmed by the Human Rights Committee
when it went on:
“[T]he mere fact that a formal interstate mechanism for communications
exists in respect of States Parties that have made the declaration under
article 41 does not mean that this procedure is the only method by which

88
According to the Preamble to the resolution the protection of basic human rights
constitutes an erga omnes obligation. Id., Preamble, para. 1.
89
The argument that human rights treaties with the guarantee of individual rights
do not give rise to state rights inter se is not persuasive. In this sense see also Human
Rights Committee, General Comment No. 31 (note 41), para. 2; E. Klein, Die
Verantwortung der Vertragsparteien (note 36), at 247; B. Simma / D. Pulkowski,
Of Planets and the Universe (note 71), at 527 with reference to M. Virally, Le principe
de réciprocité dans le droit international contemporain, Recueil des Cours, Vol. 122,
issue III, 1, at 26 (1967).
90
 Human Rights Committee, General Comment No. 31 (note 41), para. 2.
91
During the drafting of the Covenant the proponents of the state communication
procedure held that the covenant imposed “reciprocal obligations on States” and that
“there was nothing to prevent them from taking up cases of violations of the provisions
of the covenant.” See UN Doc. E/CN.4/SR.356, at 18.
542 anja seibert-fohr

States Parties can assert their interest in the performance of other States
Parties. On the contrary, the article 41 procedure should be seen as sup-
plementary to, not diminishing of, States Parties’ interest in each others’
discharge of their obligations.”92
That the international human rights treaties are no longer considered
exclusive is also affirmed by the increasing numbers of human rights
cases in which states maintain that a country does not abide by its
human rights obligations.93 These cases indicate that they consider
themselves to be entitled to take formal action in response to human
rights violations and that the treaty regimes do not prevent them from
so doing. Recent cases show that occasionally some states are willing to
bring cases to the International Court of Justice if others fail to abide by
their obligations under human rights treaties. The most noticeable
example is the case brought by Belgium against Senegal in February
2009 in which it claims that Senegal is obliged under the Convention
against Torture and customary international law to prosecute Hissène
Habré or extradite him to Belgium.94 Belgium claims an obligation erga
omnes partes and thus considers Senegal to be bound vis-à-vis all other
States parties to the Convention. By asking the court to declare that the
Republic of Senegal is obliged to bring criminal proceedings against
Mr. Habré, Belgium asserts a right to see that another State party fulfills
its obligations under the Torture Convention. In this respect the case is
similar to Georgia v. Russian Federation where a violation of the
International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial
Discrimination has been alleged.95 Though the latter does not evidence
a genuine human rights concern and though the Court found that it

92
 Human Rights Committee, General Comment No. 31 (note 41), para. 2.
93
See e.g. the East Timor Case in which Portugal invoked before the ICJ a violation
of the right to self-determination despite the fact that it was a State party to the ICCPR.
East Timor (Portugal v. Australia), Judgment, ICJ Reports 1995, at 90. For this case see
also C. J. Tams, Enforcing (note 67), at 281.
94
International Court of Justice, Questions Relating to the Obligation to Prosecute
or Extradite (Belgium v. Senegal), Order of 9 July 2009, available at http://www.icj-cij
.org/docket/files/144/15347.pdf. For the Judgement on Preliminary Objections see
<http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/140/16398.pdf>.
95
International Court of Justice, Case concerning Application of the International
Convention on the Elimination of all Forms of Racial Discrimination (Georgia v.
Russian Federation), Request for the Indication of Provisional Measures, Order of
15 October 2008, available at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/140/14801.pdf. for the
question whether resort to ICJ proceedings is barred by the treaty regimes, see e.g.
C. J. Tams, Enforcing (note 67), at 280–281. Article 44 ICCPR provides that the imple-
mentation regime under the Covenant does not prevent States Parties from having
recourse to other dispute settlement procedures. According to Nowak, the ICCPR
does not prevent States parties from having recourse to the ICJ pursuant to Article 26
moving from coexistence to cooperation and solidarity543

had no jurisdiction since neither requirement contained in Article 22

CERD had been satisfied in this particular case (neither negotiations
nor the complaint procedure had been resorted to) it shows at least that
States no longer consider human rights issues to be outside their mutual
obligations.

2. The Counter-Measure Controversy

Whether States are entitled to go beyond these lawful measures
of demanding compliance, cessation and reparation by taking non-
forcible counter-measures in a collective (i.e. solidary) interest in case
of erga omnes violations remains controversial.96 The question led to a
controversy with the result that the ILC only adopted a savings clause
in Article 54 of the Draft articles.97 The ILC commentary refers to sev-
eral cases in which States have taken counter-measures (e.g. economic
sanctions and suspension of landing rights) in response to genocide,
apartheid, humanitarian crisis, acts of aggression and serious viola-
tions of free speech rights.98 But it concludes that state practice is “lim-
ited and rather embryonic” so that it considers the lawfulness of these
countermeasures uncertain and leaves the resolution of this issue to the
future development of international law.99
A more ambitious position was taken by the Institut de Droit
International. In its above-cited ‘Obligations Erga Omnes in Inter­
national Law’ Resolution the Institute held that in case of a grave breach
of an erga omnes obligation all States to which the obligation is owed
“are entitled to take non-forcible counter-measures under conditions
analogous to those applying to a State specially affected by the breach.”100
This follows the approach advocated by James Crawford as the ILC
Rapporteur on state responsibility. He had proposed that “the Draft
articles should allow States parties to a community obligation to take
collective countermeasures in response to a gross and well-attested

ICJ Statute. M. Nowak, U.N. Covenant on Civil and Political Rights: CCPR
Commentary, Article 44, para. 8 (2nd ed 2005).
    96
According to Koskenniemi solidarity measures which violate international law
may be warranted from a moral point of view, but they should not be legally allowed
because such rules would give rise to arbitrariness and raise due process concerns:
M. Koskenniemi, Solidarity Measures: State Responsibility as a New International
Order?, 71 British YB Int’l L 337, at 350–355 (2001).
    97
For the controversial drafting process see id., at 341–348 (2001).
    98
ILC Commentary (note 57), Article 53, para. 3.
    99
Id., paras. 3 and 6.
100
Article 5(c) IDI Erga Omnes (note 54).
544 anja seibert-fohr

breach of that obligation, in particular in order to secure cessation and

to obtain assurances and guarantees of non-repetition on behalf of the
non-State victims.”101 Professor Crawford required that such measures
should comply with the rules on counter-measures of injured states,
which provide among others in Article 50 (1) (b) that countermeasures
shall not affect obligations for the protection of fundamental human
rights. But his proposal to allow non-forcible proportionate counter-
measures did not prevail, so that ultimately a more cautious approach
was taken.102
Some commentators have criticized the ILC approach as “over-
cautious” and underestimating state practice.103 Several studies on
third-party countermeasures show that over the past decades states,
including States parties to the ICCPR, have repeatedly taken counter-
measures, usually coordinated amongst several states, in response to
wrongful acts even if they have not been individually injured.104 A sub-
stantial number of the cases cited concerned violations of civil and
political rights which are protected by the ICCPR.105 The authors of
these studies argue that the States acted with the requisite opinio juris
of being entitled to take such countermeasures.106
On the other hand, it has been feared that counter-measures would
give rise to vigilantism107 and that they could be politically abused.108
Commentators on the earlier draft had warned that allowing counter-
measures would give rise to uncertainty and arbitrariness, raising due
process concerns.109 They criticized this kind of enforcement as lacking

101
Third Report of the Special Rapporteur (note 75), para. 406.
102
The Rapporteur was careful to stress that his proposal did not involve the use
of force and that countermeasures should comply with the other conditions for
countermeasures, in particular with the requirement of proportionality. Id., paras.
405–406.
103
C. J. Tams, Enforcing (note 67), at 231; M. Dawidowicz, Public Law Enforcement
(note 67), at 417.
104
C. J. Tams, Enforcing (note 67), at 209–231; M. Dawidowicz, Public Law
Enforcement (note 67), at, 412–415. According to the latter third-party countermeas-
ures are lawful in response to “serious breaches of the most fundamental international
obligations”. Id., at 417.
105
C. J. Tams, Enforcing (note 67), at 210–211, 213, 217–218, 219, 220, 221–222,
223, 224–225.
106
Id., at 237–239.
107
S. McCaffrey, Lex Lata or the Continuum of State Responsibility, in
J. H. H. Weiler et al. (eds.), International Crimes of State: A Critical Anaysis of the ILC’s
Draft Article 19 on State Responsibility, 242, at 244 (1989).
108
But according to Simma political self-interest may work to enhance collective
interests. B. Simma, Human Rights and State Responsibility (note 71), at 381.
109
M. Koskenniemi, Solidarity Measures (note 96), at 349–354.
moving from coexistence to cooperation and solidarity545

any institutional safeguard against arbitrary or abusive use of counter-

measures110 and that countermeasures may worsen a situation.111
Therefore, according to Martti Koskenniemi, instead of taking such
measures, solidarity measures “should be taken in accordance with
institutional procedures, principles of due process, transparency, and
the possibility of administrative or perhaps judicial review.”112
He saw a “strong community interest in limiting spontaneous solidar-
ity measures.”113

III. Relationship to the ICCPR

Regardless of whether we see here an emerging rule of international
law or an already consolidated norm, the practice of counter-measures
shows that several States parties to the Covenant are increasingly will-
ing to take a stance. Instances in which states have taken action in
response to serious human rights violations irrespective of the possibil-
ity of making a communication under the treaty regime have
increased.114 James Crawford stated in his third report on state respon-
sibility that “the mere existence of conventional frameworks including
monitoring mechanisms (e.g. in the field of human rights) has not been
treated as excluding recourse to countermeasures.”115
Against the backdrop of these developments several authors justify
the adoption of countermeasures if erga omnes obligations are violated
with the argument that states should have the means to induce compli-
ance with human rights treaties if treaty enforcement mechanisms
fail to protect human rights.116 Their main argument is based on effec-
tiveness.117 According to this view treaty mechanisms, namely state
complaint procedures, demand priority only if they are of a “judicial

110
This is acknowledged by Dawidowicz who therefore calls for the development of
such effective safeguards as to make them more politically acceptable in the interna-
tional community: M. Dawidowicz, Public Law Enforcement (note 67), at 350, 418.
111
Third Report of the Special Rapporteur (note 75), para. 403.
112
M. Koskenniemi, Solidarity Measures (note 96), at 355. For the need to regulate
procedurally the measures taken in response to erga omnes violations see S. von
Schorlemer, Verfahrensrechtliche Aspekte bei Ansprüchen aus Verletzungen von Erga-
omnes-Normen, in E. Klein (ed.), Menschenrechtsschutz durch Gewohnheitsrecht, 238
(2003).
113
M. Koskenniemi, Solidarity Measures (note 96), at 355.
114
For a survey of such cases see C. J. Tams, Enforcing (note 67), at 207–228.
115
Third Report of the Special Rapporteur (note 75), para. 398.
116
B. Simma / D. Pulkowski, Of Planets and the Universe (note 71), at 528.;
B. Simma, Human Rights and State Responsibility (note 71), at 365.
117
C. J. Tams, Enforcing (note 67), at 277–278.
546 anja seibert-fohr

character”, such as in the case of the European Court of Human

Rights.118 However the state communication procedure under the
ICCPR is considered not to be effective enough119 and not judicial in
character as it does not give the Human Rights Committee the author-
ity to make a binding decision or to impose legal obligations upon
States, since no supervisory organ exists to ensure compliance with the
Committee’s views and because of its focus on friendly settlement
(amicable dispute resolution) instead of a formal statement on compli-
ance with the Covenant.120
But this line of argument is not without its drawbacks for the human
rights treaty mechanisms. Whereas countermeasures demonstrate the
increasing willingness of states to undertake measures in solidarity
with people suffering from serious erga omnes violations of interna-
tional human rights, there is a risk that resort to countermeasures
could potentially weaken or even adversely affect the ICCPR’s enforce-
ment mechanism if they are not properly realigned and coordinated
with it.121 If States, because of the alleged ineffectiveness of treaty mech-
anisms, feel encouraged to take such–under normal circumstances
illegal–measures when civil and political rights are violated without
even trying to resort to state communications, we will never have a
chance to see whether the presumption of ineffectiveness is in fact ade-
quate or whether the state communication mechanism can be devel-
oped into a meaningful enforcement mechanism. The above-described
account of advances made by the Human Rights Committee with
respect to the other two treaty mechanisms shows that it is capable of
developing procedures to render the protection of human rights more
effective. But without any submission of a state communication the
Committee is deprived of this opportunity with respect to this
procedure.
118
B. Simma / D. Pulkowski, Of Planets and the Universe (note 71), at 526.
119
B. Simma, Zwischenstaatliche Durchsetzung (note 14), at 640. Several commen-
tators have described the ICCPR state communication procedure as cumbersome and
non-judicial: M. S. McDougal / H. D. Lasswell / L. Chen, Human Rights and World
Public Order: The Basic Policies of an International Law of Human Dignity, at 293–294
(1980); E. Schwelb, The International Measures of Implementation of the International
Covenant on Civil and Political Rights and of the Optional Protocol, 12 TILJ 164, at
171(1977). Tyagi describes it as a passive institutionally fragile procedure with many
shortcomings: Y. Tyagi, The UN Human Rights Committee (note 35), at 381–384.
120
C. J. Tams, Enforcing (note 67), at 289–291.
121
The ICJ has been careful to follow the jurisprudence of the international and
regional human rights treaty bodies and courts. See e.g. Case concerning Ahmadou
Sadio Dallo (Republic of Guinea v. Democratic Republic of the Congo), Judgment of
30 November 2010, para 65 et seq., http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/103/16244.pdf.
moving from coexistence to cooperation and solidarity547

E. Looking Ahead: The Need for Active Complementarity

Despite its potential drawbacks the trend to show solidarity neverthe-

less offers a new perspective. The evolving erga omnes concept helps us
to recognize that human rights are a mutual commitment the obser-
vance of which is in the interests of all states.122 With the recognition
that non-affected States are entitled to invoke responsibility for the vio-
lation of erga omnes norms States parties are no longer prevented from
assuming but rather encouraged to assume their responsibility under
the ICCPR to act on behalf of victims.
Those States parties to the ICCPR which fear countermeasures and
have not yet recognized the competence of the Committee to receive
individual communications may be prompted to do so now in order to
respond to the argument that there are no effective means of protection
against them. Others may be encouraged to exercise a stronger com-
mitment to treaty implementation and enforcement. As States are
beginning to realize that the traditional coexistence concept of parallel
obligations is insufficient for the enforcement of human rights in cases
of persistent severe abuses, we need to consider ways of advancing this
insight in the context of the treaty regimes.123 For this purpose it is nec-
essary to elaborate the erga omnes partes paradigm under the ICCPR.
Recognizing that human rights are universal ultimately requires not
only international norm-setting but also a collective approach in terms
of implementation and enforcement. Therefore, the cooperative ele-
ment in the implementation regime of international human rights trea-
ties demands more attention in the future. As effectuating common
interests entails common action, there is a need for a more cooperative
advance in terms of implementation and enforcement. The community
of States parties is called upon to safeguard their joint commitment.
States parties should take the measures at their disposal under the
Covenant to help the Human Rights Committee to fulfill its mandate.
Making use of the state communication mechanism is just one
example.124

122
This is why the Committee in its General Comment No. 31 commended to States
Parties “the view that violations of Covenant rights by any State Party deserve their
attention”. Human Rights Committee, General Comment No. 31 (note 41), para. 2.
123
According to Bayefsky there is still a “gap between universal right and remedy …
threatening the integrity of the international human rights legal regime”: A. F. Bayefsky,
The UN Human Rights Treaty System (note 22), at XV (2001).
124
The Human Rights Committee reminded States Parties in its General Comment
No. 31 of the desirability of making the declaration contemplated in article 41 and of
548 anja seibert-fohr

All States parties may–and are indeed encouraged to–protest and

require the cessation of gross human rights violations, not only infor-
mally but also by means of a formal démarche.125 According to the
Human Rights Committee drawing attention to possible violations by
other States parties and calling on them to comply with their treaty
obligations should be considered as a reflection of their legitimate
“community interest”.126 In line with the above-stated principle on state
responsibility States are also entitled to claim assurance and a guaran-
tee of non-repetition.127 Acts in violation of human rights are not to be
recognized or is the maintenance of the situation created by such a
breach to be assisted in.128 Retorsion may be feasible provided that such
measures do not compromise human rights. In several instances States
have broken off diplomatic relations, withheld financial assistance or
suspended trade benefits or licences. While there is a wide discretion to
choose among these lawful unfriendly means, others should be
employed only with the utmost caution and, if chosen, in full respect
for human rights. Such measures must not contradict efforts by the
Human Rights Committee, but rather complement its work. In order to
preserve the integrity of the ICCPR enforcement regime there is a need
for an active complementarity approach. For this purpose it is neces-
sary to consider the interpretation by the Committee and its findings in
the state reporting and individual communications procedures so that
these measures substantively accord with the Covenant.
This plea for advancing the erga omnes partes concept in order to
render the enforcement of the Covenant more effective is not meant to
undermine the notion of individual rights and the basic principle that
human rights are owed to the individual. It seeks to promote and sup-
plement the existing enforcement mechanisms in the interests of effec-
tive human rights protection in cases in which individuals do not have
access to protection, are prevented from taking communications to
the Human Rights Committee and therefore depend on the support of

the “potential value” of availing themselves of this procedure. Human Rights

Committee, General Comment No. 31 (note 41), para. 2. See also E. Klein, Die
Verantwortung der Vertragsparteien (note 36), at 255.
125
Article 48 (2) (a) ILC Draft Articles (note 57).
126
 Human Rights Committee, General Comment No. 31 (note 41), para 2.
127
Article 48 (2) (a) ILC Draft Articles (note 57).
128
See above at B I. For a similar position with respect to erga omnes obligations
see International Court of Justice, Palestinian Wall case (note 52), para. 159; Article 5
IDI Erga Omnes (note 54). For jus cogens see Article 41 (2) ILC Draft Articles (note 57).
moving from coexistence to cooperation and solidarity549

others. While responsibility is primarily with the jurisdictional state

there is a need for third party involvement when the state having juris-
diction is genuinely unwilling or unable to protect fundamental human
rights and if sole reliance on the treaty regime is insufficient. Solidarity
measures in terms of decentralized enforcement can only be subsidi-
ary. Although third party measures are a mediated form of enforce-
ment it is imperative to recognize that the individual as the centre
of reference is the right holder and ultimate beneficiary of them.129
All measures must be taken in the interests of the individual.130 Thus
the call to take action is one for genuine solidarity with victims and
does not advocate intervention for other purposes.
What is even more relevant is the enhancement of collective means
of implementation by involving all States parties in the contemplated
procedures. A first step to this end can be seen in the initiative of the
Human Rights Committee to invite all States parties to the ICCPR to
attend a meeting every two years to discuss issues of concern with
regard to the implementation of the Covenant.131 This is an important
aspect of furthering the collective dialogue on human rights and assist-
ing the Committee in fulfilling its mandate under the Covenant and it
requires yet more steps in the future.132 States parties should use their
competence to respond to unlawful derogations133 and reservations.134
Since they bear a responsibility to preserve the integrity of the treaty
regime a commitment to the Human Rights Committee as a collec-
tive institution entrusted with oversight functions under the relevant
procedures and assistance in fulfilling these functions is necessary.

129
This line of reasoning was also put forward by the ILC with respect to the right
to demand reparation for human rights violations. ILC Commentary (note 57),
Article 33, para. 3.
130
This requirement seeks to prevent abuse of third-party intervention. The idea
is reflected in Article 48 (2) (b) which makes explicit reference to the interest of
the beneficiaries of the obligation breached when a non-injured state invokes respon-
sibility for the violation of erga omnes obligations. ILC Commentary (note 57), Article
48 (2) (b).
131
Since October 2000 such issues as overdue reports, overlapping reports and tim-
ing of reports have been discussed: E. Klein, Die Verantwortung der Vertragsparteien
(note 36), at 256.
132
For the call to demand timely submission of state reports and for responding to
the recommendations of the Human Rights Committee see id., at 256–258.
133
Pursuant to Article 4 (3) ICCPR a State making a derogation must inform the
other States Parties of its reasons. For the call to use this competence see id., at 252.
134
A. Seibert-Fohr, The Potentials of the Vienna Convention (note 36), at 194, 207,
210–211.
550 anja seibert-fohr

The community of States parties is called upon to further the Com-

mittee’s pronouncements as an expression of a common concern. If a
State party persistently disregards Committee pronouncements and
continually commits serious human rights violations, other States
should side with the Committee to preserve the integrity of this collec-
tive institution.

F. Conclusion

Returning to the initial question whether the ICCPR is structured or

based upon the notion of solidarity, at the moment, while the Covenant
provides for a universal agenda, the practice of its enforcement regime
applies the traditional concept of a plural system of territorial govern-
ance and, despite progress, still lacks ample cooperative approaches
which go beyond the traditional coexistence paradigm.135 Or, in the
terms of the above-stated solidarity definition, whereas common objec-
tives are guaranteed substantively, their implementation through com-
mon action is yet to be finalized. Scholars following a strict lex lata
approach may be prompted to conclude that each State party has only
undertaken obligations with respect to its own jurisdiction and that
anything which transcends that qualifies as a moral responsibility
rather than a legal duty. Others may be ready to accept a more general
responsibility to protect in cases of severe violations committed abroad.
The above analysis leads me to conclude that even though at present
States parties are not legally bound to take solidarity measures, there is
nothing in the Covenant which prevents them from doing so. In fact,
developing such measures can strengthen their commitment to univer-
sal human rights and their implementation and should be pursued in
the future. While the reluctance to bring claims against other States
parties during the Cold War seemed to be based on the traditional view
that each State party takes care only of its own territory, this perception
does not seem to prevail any longer. At least outside the treaty regime
there is a development in state practice which induces countries
increasingly to show solidarity with the people suffering from gross
and systematic human rights violations by way of taking countermeas-
ures or instituting judicial proceedings at the international level.

135
For the notion of plural system of territorial governance see M. Craven, Human
Rights in the Realm of Order (note 67), at 223.
moving from coexistence to cooperation and solidarity551

Accordingly, apart from the obligation to prevent genocide abroad,

there is an emerging responsibility also to protect other fundamental
civil and political rights in the sense of a principled commitment which
may ultimately crystallize into a legal obligation binding states to take
action in response also to other serious human rights violations, such
as crimes against humanity, torture, racial discrimination, ethnic
cleansing and severe breaches of the right to self-determination.
This trend opens up new prospects for the human rights treaty
regimes which have not so far been fully contemplated, either by states
or by academia. It exhibits a sense of solidarity, an attitude which is yet
to enter into state practice under the ICCPR where an understanding
that the implementation of the Covenant is not a matter proper for
other states to deal with seems currently to persist.136 It is the task of all
those committed to human rights to think of ways to make these rights
as a common objective work in practice. At the same time we need to
make sure that the belief that human rights protection requires meas-
ures by non-injured states does not lead to a situation where the treaty
regimes are bypassed or substituted. In the interests of universal human
rights protection decentralized enforcement should only be subsidiary,
as a means of last resort if all other means fail. But notions of exclusiv-
ity and formalist distinctions between the enforcement of erga omnes
human rights violations and the enforcement of treaty-based human
rights are likely to lead to a situation where treaty mechanisms are
left behind and notions of self-help prevail.137 It is essential to resort to
existing dispute settlement mechanisms instead and to strengthen
collective enforcement mechanisms which guarantee due process
­
rights. The treaty regimes need support to keep pace with and ade-
quately reflect developments in customary international law.
The Human Rights Committee as a collective institution of all States
parties has already made considerable efforts to make the treaty regime

136
Under the treaty regime the notion of state sovereignty put forward by commu-
nist doctrine to protect its countries from foreign demands that they respect the treaty
obligations and the resulting inactivity in the first decade of the Covenant’s operation
have not yet been sufficiently overcome by the States parties in their approach to the
ICCPR.
137
Rigid notions of the exclusivity thesis can run counter to the underlying rationale
of its proponents: concern for the effective protection of human rights. Therefore
instead of a rigid exclusivity thesis being advocated, it should be asked whether and to
what extent the application of general international law can further the Covenant
objective of protecting human rights effectively.
552 anja seibert-fohr

more effective. But its success eventually depends on support from the
community of States parties. If they take seriously their mutual com-
mitment to universal human rights of the “human family” in the
Preamble to the ICCPR, they should take a more vital approach towards
their competences under the International Covenant on Civil and
Political Rights if the protection of fundamental rights would other-
wise fail. In order to strengthen the treaty system States parties are
called upon to realize that the ICCPR offers potential for solidarity
which just has not been sufficiently identified and exercised so far. The
Covenant allows and, considering the common objective paradigm,
even counsels all States parties to react to serious human rights viola-
tions committed abroad. It provides for erga omnes partes obligations
which should be asserted by each State party in cases of serious viola-
tions. With the commitment to universal rights and the new human
rights consciousness there is no longer any reason to avoid the state
communication procedure. Beyond making use of this remedy there is
an essential need for active complementarity by all States parties which
supports, discusses and adds to the Human Rights Committee in its
undertaking to make human rights protection effective worldwide.
Several such means have been identified above. All actors in the field
are called upon to consider further ways in which states can develop a
more dynamic approach to treaty implementation. A wealth of further
tasks thus are left for legal practitioners and academia to undertake in
order to fulfill Rüdiger Wolfrum’s plea to consider and further the rel-
evance of solidarity in international law, not just today but also
tomorrow.
 The Legal Status of Normative Pronouncements
of Human Rights Treaty Bodies

Dinah Shelton

A. Introduction

State representatives who draft human rights treaties negotiate the

rights and duties included in the agreement, establish institutions, and
create procedures to monitor compliance with the obligations set forth
in the text. The most common institutional arrangement involves the
creation of an independent expert body with competence to review
periodic reports by the states parties.1 Jurisdiction to receive inter-state
and individual communications or petitions may also form part of the
mandate of a human rights treaty body, but complaint procedures gen-
erally are optional, requiring separate acceptance of the relevant article
or protocol by each state party to the treaty. Only three human rights
treaties,2 all at the regional level, have foreseen the creation of courts
with jurisdiction to render binding judgments and reparations when
rights have been violated, and only one of these courts has mandatory
jurisdiction over states parties.3
Many of the treaty bodies created pursuant to the UN “core”
treaties,4 as well as the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights

1
See, D. McGoldrick, The Human Rights Committee: Its Role in the Development
of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, at 62 (1991).
2
The European Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental
Freedoms, 4 November 1950, ETS No. 5, 2113 UNTS 222 [hereinafter ECHR]; the
American Convention on Human Rights, 22 November 1969, 1144 UNTS 123, OASTS
36 [hereinafter American Convention]; and the Protocol to the African Charter on
Human and Peoples Rights on the Establishment of an African Court on Human and
Peoples’ Rights, 9 June 1998, OAU Doc. OAU/LEG/EXP/AFCHPR/PROT (III).
3
The European Convention provides for the European Court of Human Rights,
whose jurisdiction is mandatory. ECHR, Art. 19. Any person claiming to be the victim
of a violation of a right guaranteed by the Convention may bring a complaint to the
court after exhausting local remedies, provided specified admissibility conditions are
met. ECHR, Arts. 34, 35.
4
The UN refers to nine core treaties, all but one of which have established a moni-
toring committee: the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural
Rights, 16 December 1966, 993 UNTS 3 [hereinafter ICESCR]; the International
554 dinah shelton

and the African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights, issue

general comments on the scope of guaranteed rights and/or observa-
tions on compliance by states parties with their treaty obligations.5 The
may also undertake fact-finding and issue “views”, “recommendations”
or “decisions” on the merits of communications brought before them.
They also sometimes indicate interim, provisional, or precautionary
measures when irreparable and serious harm is threatened to individu-
als or groups. These various pronouncements of human rights bodies,
issued within the scope of their mandates, involve legal analysis,
application of the law to the facts presented to them, and the further
elaboration of often vaguely-written human rights norms. While the
resulting texts are often referred to as “authoritative” pronouncements,
their juridical value and the degree to which states have a duty to coop-
erate and give them deference, has not received much attention. In the
light of Rüdiger Wolfrum’s service on international tribunals and his
attention to the topic of international cooperation and solidarity, it
seems an appropriate topic for this volume in his honor.
The essay begins with a consideration of the mandates according to
treaty texts, using the rules of interpretation contained in the Vienna
Convention on the Law of Treaties, noting how these rules have been
applied in practice by human rights tribunals. The first section also
identifies the various types of pronouncements the different human
rights bodies make. The second section examines the development
over time of the practice of treaty bodies and what these institutions
have said about the juridical value of their decisions, comments and
views. The conclusion undertakes an assessment of the notion of

Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, 16 December 1966, 999 UNTS 171 [hereinafter
ICCPR]; the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination,
21 December 1954, 660 UNTS 195 [hereinafter CERD]; the Convention on the
Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women, 18 December 1979, 1249
UNTS 13 [hereinafter CEDAW]; the Convention against Torture and Other Cruel,
Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment, 10 December 1984, 1465 UNTS 85
[hereinafter CAT]; the Convention on the Rights of the Child, 20 November 1989,
1577 UNTS 3 [hereinafter CRC]; the International Convention on the Protection of the
Rights of All Migrant Workers and Members of their Families, 18 December 1990,
2220 UNTS 3 [hereinafter CPMW]; Convention on the Rights of Persons with
Disabilities, 13 December 2006, UNTS No. 44910 [hereinafter CRPD]; and the
Convention on the Protection of All Persons from Enforced Disappearance,
20 December 2006, not in force.
5
The African Commission issues recommendations, African Charter Arts. 45.1(a),
58(2), and 53; the Human Rights Committee issues views, Optional Protocol Art. 5(4);
as does the UN Committee against Torture, Convention Art. 22(7).
 the legal status of normative pronouncements555

authoritativeness and the degree of deference owed by states to the pro-

nouncements of human rights treaty bodies. Overall, this brief study
indicates that the ambivalent, often reticent attitude of governments
towards human rights law–revealed in the deliberately limited powers
of treaty bodies–has failed to halt the creative development of proce-
dures that allow for normative evolution and genuine scrutiny of com-
pliance by states parties. In all instances, the bare-bones outlines of
functions described in the constitutive treaties have evolved signifi-
cantly through practice and acquiescence, even support, of States
Parties. In this respect, the enhanced juridical status for the pronounce-
ments of human rights bodies reflects the necessity for international
accountability of States, to ensure the effective promotion and protec-
tion of internationally-guaranteed human rights, even if the role of
international bodies is subsidiary to national implementation.

B. The Institutions and their Mandates

The earliest of the UN core treaties, the Convention on the Elimination

of All Forms of Racial Discrimination (CERD), established an 18-
member Committee of independent experts6 (of which Rüdiger
Wolfrum was once a member) and granted it supervisory authority to
ensure the implementation of the obligations of States Parties.7 CERD
confers three main functions on the Committee: examine periodic
reports; consider inter-state communications; and consider individual
communications.8 Article 9 on periodic reporting explicitly permits
the CERD committee to “request further information from the States
Parties;” the committee initially used this power to establish reporting
guidelines9 and to invite representatives of the reporting State to attend

6
CERD, Art. 8(1). Note that the CERD Committee has emphasized its independ-
ence by refusing to allow members who could not attend the permission to send
alternates and rejected a State Party’s notification that a member had resigned. See,
K. J. Partsch, The Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination, in: P. Alston,
The United Nations and Human Rights: A Critical Appraisal, 339, at 340–41 (1992).
7
As Opsahl noted, the terms monitor, supervise, enforce or protect are freighted
in and of themselves. T. Opsahl, The Human Rights Committee, in: P. Alston (note 6),
at 369, 370.
8
CERD, Arts. 8, 11–13, and 14. A fourth function, to aid other UN bodies in
reviewing petitions from trust and other non-self-governing territories, has dimin-
ished with the gradual independence of trust and colonial territories. See CERD,
Art. 15.
9
CERD, Communication to States Parties, CERD/C/R/12 and A/8027 (1970),
Annex IIIA.
556 dinah shelton

the relevant meetings of the Committee.10 CERD Article 9(2) provides

that the CERD Committee may “make suggestions and general recom-
mendations based on the examination of the reports and information
received from the States Parties.” As one of the Committee’s original
members has commented, “[t]he interpretation of this provision has
caused significant Committee debate,”11 not only about the sources of
information the CERD Committee can access, but also about the legal
weight of its suggestions and recommendations. While the CERD
Committee has adopted an expansive interpretation of the substantive
obligations contained in CERD,12 it has exercised considerably more
restraint than some of the other human rights bodies in claiming jurid-
ical value for its pronouncements.
The Human Rights Committee functions under the ICCPR whose
Part IV sets out the Committee’s composition, status, functions and
procedures, the last mentioned supplemented by the Optional Protocol.
The Covenant sets forth the competence and duties of the HRC in
Articles 40 to 42; they are similar to those of the CERD Committee,
with the exception that the individual communications procedure is
set forth in the Optional Protocol rather than an optional clause in the
treaty itself. In general the Committee monitors or supervises the
implementation of the Civil and Political Covenant, although the draft-
ing history indicates considerable disagreement over the precise role of
the Committee.13 That disagreement continued in the early years of the
Committee, leading to a general discussion in 1980.14 Consensus was
reached on the need for general comments to be issued on matters of
common interest to the States Parties. Subsequently, the Committee

10
In fact, the General Assembly recommended that CERD invite representatives
of State Parties to be present for the discussions of their reports. GA Res. 2783 (XXVI)
(1971). The practice was adopted in 1972. A/8718 (1972), para. 37, 1 December (V).
It has been followed by all subsequent UN treaty bodies in the examination of State
reports.
11
Partsch (note 6), at 351. See also Legal Opinion of the UN Office of Legal Affairs
to the Assistant Secretary-General for Inter-Agency Affairs, 1972 UN Judicial Yearbook
164 (1974) (asserting that the provisions of CERD do not limit the sources available to
the Committee).
12
See T. Meron, The Meaning and Reach of the International Reach of the
International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination,
79 American Journal of International Law 283, at 310–312 (1985); Partsch (note 6), at
358–360.
13
See Opsahl (note 7), at 371–72.
14
Report of the Human Rights Committee, A/35/40 (1980).
 the legal status of normative pronouncements557

issued a Statement on the duties of the Human Rights Committee

under Article 40 of the Covenant,15 which represented a minimalist
view of the powers of the Committee during the Cold War period.
The Optional Protocol labels the result of the Committee’s consid-
eration of individual communications “views” to be forwarded to the
parties (Protocol Article 5 (4). The Optional Protocol states this “with-
out explaining how these views shall be reached, for which purpose,
and to what effect.”16 In practice, the Committee has acted as a judicial
or quasi-judicial body in assessing the evidence and undertaking legal
reasoning in its analysis, within the confines of the written procedure
established by the Optional Protocol. Over time, the length of the opin-
ions has increased, as have the recommendations on forms of repara-
tion due when the Committee finds a violation.
The CEDAW Committee, established in 1981 following the entry
into force of CEDAW, had a surprisingly limited mandate, given the
precedents of earlier UN human rights treaties. The treaty provided
for no inter-State or individual communications. The 23 members of
CEDAW were thus limited to issuing general comments and obser­
vations on state reports17 until the entry into force of the Optional
Protocol to CEDAW in 2000. The Protocol created a communications
procedure as well as an inquiry procedure for grave or systematic
violations (Articles 8 and 9), but granted states parties the discretion
to opt out of the inquiry procedure. As with the ICCPR, the con­
sideration of individual communications results in “views” and
“recommendations.”
CAT, too, has monitoring procedures that involve state reporting
and general comments, added to which are optional procedures for
individual and inter-State complaints, as well as an optional inquiry
procedure.18 The treaty confirms the practice initiated by other treaty
bodies, which is to address individual comments to each reporting
state.
On the regional level, the Ministers of Foreign Affairs of the member
states of the Organization of American States decided in 1959 to create

15
Statement on the duties of the Human Rights Committee under Art. 40 of the
Covenant adopted on 30 October 1980, in Report of the Human Rights Committee,
A/36/40 (1981), Annex IV.
16
Opsahl (note 7), at 426.
17
CEDAW Art. 18 requires states to file periodic reports on implementation of the
treaty.
18
CAT, Arts. 19–22.
558 dinah shelton

a seven-member body to promote and protect human rights.19 The

resolution conferred on the OAS Permanent Council the authority to
determine the powers and functions of the new institution. The Council
adopted a statute for the resulting Inter-American Commission on
Human Rights on May 25, 1960, granting it the power to make recom-
mendations to the governments of the member states in general “if it
considers such action advisable, for the adoption of progressive meas-
ures in favor of human rights within the framework of their domestic
legislation and, in accordance with their constitutional precepts, appro-
priate measures to further the faithful observance of those rights”.20
Over the past half century, the mandate of the Commission has
evolved with the adoption of the 1969 American Convention on
Human Rights and other normative instruments. The Commission
itself interpreted its powers broadly from its first session, addressing
recommendations to individual governments, receiving complaints,
hearing witnesses and carrying out on site investigations. After only
two years of tacit acceptance of the Commission’s work, the political
bodies in 1962 began considering amendments to the Commission’s
Statute to expressly grant it the powers it was already exercising.21 The
amendments were adopted in 1965,22 but the Commission remained
limited to making proposals and recommendations, language retained
in the American Convention which makes the Commission one of
the two bodies granted “competence with respect to matters relating
to the fulfillment of the commitments made by the States Parties” to the
Convention.23
It is noteworthy that UN treaty bodies have called upon states to
comply with the measures recommended by the Inter-American
Commission.24 The Commission has a mandate of promotion and

19
Res. VIII, OAS, Minutes of the Fifth Meeting of Consultation of Ministers of
Foreign Affairs. Later, the CERD Committee requested the assistance of UNESCO in
drafting more extensive reporting guidelines. A/37/18 (1982), chap. 9.
20
Art. 9b, Statute of the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights of 1960.
21
In 1962, the Eighth Meeting of Consultation of Ministers of Foreign Affairs, by
Resolution IX recommended that the Permanent Council strengthen the mandate of
the Commission.
22
Res. XII, Expanded Functions of the Inter-American Commission on Human
Rights, adopted a the Second Special Inter-American Conference (Rio de Janeiro,
1965).
23
American Convention, Art. 33.
24
See, e.g. HRC, Concluding Observations on the Periodic Report on Colombia,
59th Sess., mtg 1583, para. 11; CERD, Concluding Comments on the Country Report
on El Salvador, 68th Sess., mtg 1758, para. 15; CERD, Concluding Comment on the
Country Report of Suriname, adopted 74th Sess., mtg. 1928, para. 19.
 the legal status of normative pronouncements559

protection of human rights. In this context, it holds hearings, under-

takes on-site visits, publishes special country and thematic reports,
issues guidelines and general recommendations, requests information
of states, reviews periodic reports and hears cases.
Part II of the African Charter on Human and Peoples Rights, enti-
tled “Measures of Safeguard” includes articles on the structure and
functions of the African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights.
The mandate of the eleven member independent body is extensive,
including both promotion and protection of human rights. It is
explicitly given standard-setting authority, “to formulate and lay
down, principles and rules aimed at solving legal problems relating to
human and peoples’ rights and fundamental freedoms upon which
African Governments may base their legislation.” (Article 45(1)(b)).
The Commission is also to ensure the protection of human and peo-
ples’ rights and has the power to issue interpretive or advisory opinions
about the provisions of the Charter at the request of a state party or an
institution of the OAU. The African Charter provides for a state report-
ing procedure and grants the Commission power to consider individ-
ual and inter-state communications.

C. Interpreting the Treaty Texts

Commentators are generally in accord with key states that human

rights treaties typically confer neither binding interpretive authority
nor direct enforcement power on treaty bodies.25 A contrasting view
supports the authority of treaty bodies to define and interpret the obli-
gations contained in human rights treaties and elaborate the scope and
protection of human rights consistent with the treaty provisions. As a
matter of legitimacy, states have conferred on treaty bodies a monitor-
ing role, one of gathering information, developing a body of jurispru-
dence, and engaging in constructive dialogue to further the object and
purpose of the treaty: moving states parties to achieve the effective
implementation of the treaty’s guaranteed rights. Each treaty body
must walk the Goldilocks line, being neither too weak and limited, on
the one hand, nor too strong and innovative on the other, recognizing

25
See Robert Harris, Assistant Legal Advisor, Dep’t of State, US Delegation Response
to Oral /Questions from the Members of the Committee (18 July 2006): “As a general
matter, only the parties to a treaty are empowered to give a binding interpretation of its
provisions unless the treaty provides otherwise or the parties have otherwise so agreed.”
560 dinah shelton

that only states parties can amend treaties to provide for new rights and
obligations.
Scholars have long noted that constitutions and “super-statutes”26
are often supplemented or modified by subsequent written or unwrit-
ten practice.27 Human rights treaties, to the extent that they are mod-
eled in substantive parts on constitutional bills of rights have similarly
developed through subsidiary rules and the unwritten practices of the
treaty bodies they establish. States draft treaties with broad language,
including the institutional structure and most basic rules, leaving the
specifics for later elaboration through other processes, including dele-
gation to treaty bodies and acquiescence in the procedures they adopt.
This serves the purposes of human rights agreements, which are, in
Cass Sustein’s term, usually “incompletely theorized.”28 States may
agree only on the most general articulation of rights, leaving it to other
bodies to determine the matters that cannot be resolved through agree-
ment of the drafters. The result shifts specific decision-making from
the formal to less formal processes and creates a multilevel governance
system.
The various treaty bodies have generally emphasized the “public
order” or non-reciprocal nature of human rights treaties in insisting on
the object and purpose of the treaties as the overriding concern. Thus,
the IACHR has said that “the American Convention enshrines a system
that constitutes a genuine regional public order the preservation of
which is in the interests of each and every state party.29 The Inter-
American Court in its first decision declared that “the object of
international human rights protection is to guarantee the individual’s
basic human dignity by means of a system established in the
Convention.”30 Similarly, the European Court of Human Rights insists

26
W. Eskridge Jr. / J. Ferejohn, Super-Statutes, 50 Duke Law Journal 1215, at 1216
(2001) (referring to super-statutes as those that establish a new normative framework
for state policy and have a broad effect in the law, including effects beyond the specific
statute itself).
27
See M. McDougal / H. Lasswell / W. Michael Riesman, The World Constitutive
Process of Authoritative Decision, 19 Journal of Legal Education 253, at 260 (1967).
28
See C. Sunstein, Incompletely Theorized Agreements, 108 Harvard Law Review
1733 (1995). The category includes those agreements between those who accept the
basic principles but may not agree on what it entails in particular cases. Id., at 1739.
29
IACHR, Report No. 11/07, Interstate Case 01/06, Nicaragua v. Costa Rica,
8 March 2007, 8, para. 197.
30
I-A Court H.R., In Re Viviana Gallardo et al, decision of 13 November 1981,
para. 15.
 the legal status of normative pronouncements561

that the ECHR is a “living instrument” which must be applied to make

the rights it contains real and effective.”31
The legitimacy of treaty body pronouncements may decline when
states perceive that the pronouncement is outside the functions con-
ferred by the treaty. One of the controversial issues in this respect
concerns pronouncements on the legality of reservations to human
rights treaties. In 1976 the Committee on the Elimination of Racial
Discrimination referred to the Office of Legal Affairs of the United
Nations a request for expert advice on whether the Committee had the
authority to decide upon the compatibility of reservations entered to
the Convention on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination.32 The
Office of Legal Affairs responded unequivocally that the Committee
had no competence to decide on the compatibility of reservations, as
the Committee was not a representative organ of states parties which
alone had general competence with regard to reservations to the
Convention. The Office of Legal Affairs pointed out that “[w]hen a res-
ervation has been accepted at the conclusion of the procedure expressly
provided for by the Convention [Article 20], a decision–even a unani-
mous decision–by the Committee that such a reservation is unaccepta-
ble could not have any legal effect”.33 This position was subsequently
adopted by the Committee.
The Committee on the Elimination of Discrimination against
Women similarly referred to the Office of Legal Affairs a question con-
cerning the role of the Committee with regard to reservations that were
incompatible with the object and purpose of the Convention. The
opinion expressed by the Office of Legal Affairs was that “the functions
of the Committee do not appear to include a determination of the
incompatibility of reservations, although reservations undoubtedly

31
See, e.g., ECtHR, Demir and Baykara v. Turkey, judgment of 12 November 2008
(GC), Appl. No. 34503/97 (GC), para. 48: “Since the Convention is first and foremost
a system for the protection of human rights, the Court must interpret and apply it in a
manner which renders its rights practical and effective, not theoretical and illusory.
The Convention must also be read as a whole, and interpreted in such a way as to
promote internal consistency and harmony between its various provisions (see, among
other authorities, ECtHR, Stec and Others v. the United Kingdom (GC), judgment of
12 April 2006, Appl. Nos. 65731/01 and 65900/01, paras. 47–48, ECHR 2005-X.
32
CERD, Legal Effects of Statements of Interpretation and Other Declarations
Made at the Time of Ratification or Accession, ST/LEG/SER.C/14, UN Juridical
Yearbook 219 (1976).
33
Id., at 221, para. 8. See also D. Shelton, State Practice on Reservations to Human
Rights Treaties, 1 Canadian Human Rights Yearbook 206, at 229 (1983).
562 dinah shelton

affect the application of the Convention and the Committee might

have to comment thereon in its reports in this context”.34
Treaties bodies continue to claim a role, however. The chairpersons
of the treaty bodies, during their fifth meeting in 1994, asserted that
treaty bodies should seek explanations from States parties regarding
the reasons for making and maintaining reservations to the relevant
human rights treaties and should state clearly that certain reservations
to international human rights instruments are contrary to the object
and purpose of those instruments and consequently incompatible with
treaty law.35 Yet, the Human Rights Committee’s General Comment 24
(1994), on reservations, provoked considerable reaction with its claim
that the Committee could review and pronounce on the legality of res-
ervations, severing those deemed illegal from the state’s ratification or
accession to the treaty.36

D. Treaty Body Practice

I. General Comments
Close to 100 General Comments or General Recommendations have
been adopted by UN treaty bodies.37 The General Comment is a device
used to express a committee’s considered legal opinion on the scope of
a right or obligation contained in one of the provisions of the treaty it
supervises. It is a formal statement carefully drafted to which the com-
mittee attaches considerable importance.38

34
The Legal Opinion of the Treaty Section of the Office of Legal Affairs of the United
Nations Secretariat upon an Inquiry by the Committee Concerning the Implementation
of Article 28 of the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination
Against Women, in: CEDAW, Report of the Committee on the Elimination of
Discrimination Against Women, 2 Official Records of the General Assembly,
39th Session, Supplement No. 45, UN Doc. A/39/45, 55, at 56.
35
Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights, Effective Implementation of
International Instruments on Human Rights, Including Reporting Obligations under
International Instruments on Human Rights, UN Doc. A/49/537 (19 December 1994).
36
See Government Responses, Observations on General Comment No. 24(52), on
Issues Relating to Reservations Made upon Ratification or Accession to the Covenant
or the Optional Protocols Thereto, or in Relation to Declarations Under Article 41 of
the Covenant, CCPR A/50/40/Vol.1, Annex VI (1996) (HRC has no power to issue
binding interpretations).
37
The entire output is reproduced in the Compilation of General Comments and
General Recommendations adopted by Human Rights Treaty Bodies, UN Doc. HRI/
GEN/1/Rev. 9 (2 vols).
38
On the development of general comments, see, P. Alson, The Historical Origins
of the Concept of ‘General Comments’ in Human Rights Law, in: L. Boisson de
 the legal status of normative pronouncements563

CERD was the first UN treaty to include a reference to the power

of its Committee to “make suggestions and general recommenda-
tions.”39 The phrase was added late in the drafting process, just a month
before the Convention was adopted.40 A few states proposed deleting
either the word “suggestions” or the word “general” but the overall
power of the committee to adopt comments was neither controversial
nor much discussed.41 The only precedent CERD could draw upon was
the 1953 initiative of the Commission on Human Rights to engage in
periodic reporting, which would have authorized the Commission to
make recommendations, comments and conclusions of “an objective
and general nature.”42 It was clear from debates in the Commission and
in the drafting of the Covenants that the word “general” was proposed
by some states in order to preclude particular recommendations or
comments to individual states.43 There was also strong opposition to
this view.44
In practice, the committees have come to distinguish General
Comments from the country-specific final observations made to indi-
vidual countries. General Comments are addressed to states parties as
a whole, summarize the experience of the treaty body in monitoring
application of the treaty, and address the implementation of obliga-
tions in the treaty. Yet, there is a clear interplay with views and final
observations. On the issue of extraterritorial application of the
ICCPR, for example, the Human Rights Committee has repeatedly
taken the position that the ICCPR applies outside a state’s territory in
certain circumstances. It first articulated this approach in communica-
tions to individual states parties and in 2004 issued General Comment
31 to further elaborate its views. During the presentation of the third

Chazournes / V. Gowlland-Debbas (eds.), The International Legal System in Quest of

Equity and Universality, Liber Amicorum Georges Abi-Saab, at 763 (2001).
39
CERD, Art. 9(2).
40
UN Doc. A/C.3/L.1293 (1965), Art. VIII (bis).
41
UN Doc. A/6181 (1965), paras. 113–114.
42
CHR Res. 1 (XII)(1956) para. 1.
43
On the Commission debate, see Report of the Commission on Human Rights,
12th Sess., UN Doc. E/2844 (1956), 7, para. 37; for the ICCPR, see J. F. Green, The
United Nations and Human Rights, at 715 (1958); M. Bossuyt, Guide to the ‘Travaux
preparatoires’ of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, at 629 (1987);
for the ICESCR, see UN Doc. A/2929 (1955), 120, para. 19.
44
When the General Assembly debated the ICCPR, the proposal to include the
word general before comments was adopted by a vote of 44 in favor, 29 against, and
12 abstentions. UN Doc. A/C.3/SR 1427, para. 61 (1966), cited in Bossuyt (note 44),
630.
564 dinah shelton

report of the United States, committee members and representatives of

the government engaged in a debate over extraterritoriality and the
proper interpretation of ICCPR Article 2(1).45 In the end, the Committee
criticized the United States in its Concluding Observations for main-
taining its restrictive interpretation “despite the contrary opinions and
established jurisprudence of the Committee and the International
Court of Justice.”46 In its one-year follow-up report, the U.S. continued
to adhere to its view that the Covenant does not govern extraterritorial
acts, but it nonetheless provided information on its practices with
regard to detainees at Guantanamo and policies on non-refoulement
and rendition.47
In one sense, a General Comment represents a distillation of the case
law or jurisprudence of the treaty body. As such, Philip Alston has
called General Comments “one of the potentially most significant and
influential tools available to each of the [eight] United Nations human
rights treaty bodies in their endeavours to deepen the understanding
and strengthen the influence of international human rights norms”.48
McGoldrick concurs, calling General Comments “potentially very
important as an expression of the accumulated and unparalleled expe-
rience of an independent expert human rights body of a universal
character in its consideration of the implementation of the ICCPR.”49

45
Article 2(1) requires each state party to “respect and to ensure to all individuals
within its territory and subject to its jurisdiction the rights recognized in the present
Covenant.”
46
UN Human Rights Committee, Consideration of Reports Submitted by States
Parties under Article 40 of the Covenant, Concluding Observations of the Human
Rights Committee: United States of America, UN Doc. CCPR/C/USA/CO/3/Rev.1
(18 Dec 2006), para. 3. In response, the Legal Adviser to the State Department, John
Bellinger, issued a statement about the Committee’s comments: “We can understand
the Committee’s desire to have the Convention apply outside the territory of a State
Party but we must accept the Convention the way it was written, not the way the
Committee wishes it to be. Despite this clear limitation of its mandate, the Committee
has made at least six separate recommendations that concern US activities outside the
territorial United States that are governed by the laws of war. We find these conclusions
outside the scope of the Committee’s mandate an unfortunate diversion of the
Committee’s attention.” US Mission to the United Nations in Geneva, Statement by
United States Mission to the United Nations on behalf of the US Delegation to the U.N.
Human Rights Committee (28 July 2006).
47
UN Human Rights Committee, Comments by the Government of the United
States of America on the Concluding Observations of the Human Rights Committee,
UN Doc. CCPR/C/USA/CO/3/REV.1/ADD.1 (2 February 2008), at 2–9.
48
Alston (note 39), at 763 (2001).
49
McGoldrick (note 1), at 95.
 the legal status of normative pronouncements565

The fact that they are approved by consensus helps bolster their
authoritativeness.
In practice, the Committee has asked States Parties to refer to
General Comments in their periodic reports and some states do. In
addition, some domestic courts have utilized General Comments in
rendering judgments and decision. The Constitutional Court of South
Africa, for example, relied on the ICESCR General Comment 7 in its
decision Government of the RSA et al v. Grootboom.50 The African
Commission on Human and Peoples Rights similarly used ICESCR
General Comments 4, 7 and 14 in SERAC v. Nigeria.51 Regional tribu-
nals frequently support their decisions with references to the jurispru-
dence of other bodies on similar issues.52 Decisions concerning
amnesties as a violation of human rights,53 the treatment of detainees,
rape as a form of torture,54 and exceptions to the rule requiring exhaus-
tion of local remedies, have all passed from one system to another.

II. Observations on State Reports

The outcome of the periodic reporting procedure in UN treaty bodies
is the adoption of concluding observations on the reports of each state
party under review. The process usually involves a legal determination
that a given practice or situation does or does not comply with the

50
Constitutional Court of the Republic of South Africa, Government of the Republic
of South Africa. & Ors v. Grootboom & Ors, judgment of 4 October 2000, (11) BCLR
1169. The applicants also presented arguments based on General Comment 3, the
obligations of states parties, calling it “persuasive” authority for the Constitutional
Court.
51
Afr. Comm’n H.P.R., Social and Economic Rights Action Center & the Center for
Economic and Social Rights v. Nigeria, Communication No. 155/96 of 27 October 2001.
52
The European Court of Human Rights, for example, has referred to decisions
and recommendations of the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights. See,
e.g. G.B. v. Bulgaria, judgment of 11 March 2004, Appl. No. 42346/98, para. 53; Iorgov
v. Bulgaria, judgment of 11 March 2004, Appl. No. 40653/98 (looking to the IACHR
cases concerning death row); Egri v. Turkey (No. 6), judgment of 4 May 2006, Appl.
No. 47533/99, para. 25 (military courts); Bevacqua and S. v. Bulgaria, judgment of
12 June 2008, Appl. No. 71127/01, para. 53 (violence against women); Bankovic et al
v. Belgium et al, judgment of 12 Dec 2001, Appl. No. 52207/99, and Issa and others v.
Turkey, judgment of 16 November 2004, Appl. No. 31821/96, para. 71 (extraterritorial
obligations).
53
African Comm’n H.P.R., Zimbabwe Human Rights NGO Forum v. Zimbabwe, May
2006, Comm. No. 245/2002, paras. 204, 213.
54
See, e.g. ICTY, Trial Chamber, Case No. IT-96–21 (Zejnil Delalic, Zdravko Mucic,
Hazim Delic and Esad Landzo), judgment of 16 November 1998, paras. 481–476;
ECtHR, Aydin v. Turkey, judgment of 25 September 1997, Appl. No. 23178/94,
para. 51 (using IACHR jurisprudence).
566 dinah shelton

treaty. Any particular observation, if precisely drafted and reasoned,

could have significance for all states parties, as it represents the consen-
sus of the Committee on how provisions in the treaty should be inter-
preted and applied. Most observations, however, are not precisely
drafted and reasoned, although they have become more detailed over
time.
The Human Rights Committee at its first session included in its rules
of procedure rule 70(3) which stated:
If, on the basis of its examination of the reports and information supplied
by a State party, the Committee determines that some of the obligations
of that State party under the Covenant have not been discharged, it may,
in accordance with article 40(4) of the Covenant, make such comments
as it may consider appropriate.55
The issue remained contentious throughout the East-West divisions of
the 1970s and 1980s56 but in practice today the Committee and other
treaty bodies make extensive legal findings and recommendations to
states in the concluding observations on state reports. Most states par-
ties do not treat these as legally binding, but the human rights bodies
generally ask states to indicate in the state reports the measures they
have taken to respond to the concluding observations made on their
earlier reports.

III. Interim Measures

Most human rights treaty bodies issue interim or provisional measures
where necessary to avoid irreparable harm to those presenting com-
munications or, in some instances, witnesses. Increasingly, the treaty
bodies assert that these measures are legally binding, at least when
linked to the substance of an alleged violation, such as imposition of a
death penalty following an unfair trial. The Human Rights Committee
has called the failure to comply with such measures “a grave breach” of
a state’s obligations under the Covenant: “Apart from any violation of
the Covenant found against a State party in a communication, a State
party commits grave breaches of its obligations under the Optional

55
The Committee later withdrew the language about discharge of obligations.
The provision today reads: “On the basis of its examination of the reports and informa-
tion supplied by a State party, the Committee in accordance with article 40, para-
graph 4, of the Covenant, may make such comments as it may consider appropriate.
UN Doc. CCPR/C/3/Rev.5 (1997).
56
See Alston (note 6), at 774–775.
 the legal status of normative pronouncements567

Protocol if it acts to prevent or to frustrate consideration by the

Committee of a communication alleging a violation of the Covenant,
or to render examination by the Committee moot and the expression
of its Views nugatory and futile.”57 The Inter-American Human Rights
Commission has taken a similar view in respect to petitions against the
United States involving detainees at Guantanamo Naval Base.58
States parties to the Human Rights Committee declared that Canada
violated the ICCPR by refusing, pursuant to an interim measure, to
stay the deportation of a man seeking review before the HRC.59

IV. Decisions on Cases

The final views on the merits of complaints have received the most
attention as a source of normative development. The jurisprudence of
human rights bodies consists of the application of treaty provisions to
specific facts and conclusions about whether or not those facts reveal
the violation of a guaranteed right. As such, the decisions and recom-
mendations are instructive to all states parties, not only the particular
state subject of the complaint.
The Human Rights Committee adopts its views by way of a formal
decision, based on the submissions to it, but there is general consensus
that the views are not legally binding, at least directly.60 There are
thus no enforcement procedures similar to those conducted by the
Council of Europe’s Committee of Ministers. Nonetheless, Committee

57
CCPR, Communication No. 1150/2002, Uteev v. Uzbekistan (Views adopted
on 26 October 2007) para. 5.2, Report of the Human Rights Committee, A/63/40
(Vol. II), at 14.
58
On 25 February 2002, the Center for Constitutional Rights, a U.S. based non-
governmental organization, filed a request for precautionary measures under article 25
of the Commission’s regulations, in respect to detainees held by the United States in
Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. The Commission accepted the petition and, on 12 March
2002, requested the United States “to take the urgent measures necessary to have the
legal status of the detainees at Guantanamo Bay determined by a competent tribunal.”
In its letter to the government, the Commission stated that decisions on precautionary
measures, when considered “essential to preserving the Commission’s mandate,” are
legally binding. Inter-Am. Comm’n H.R., 1 Annual Report 2002, OAS Doc. OEA/
Ser.L/V/II.117 Doc. 1 rev. 1, para. 80 (7 March 2003).
59
U.N. Human Rights Comm., Ahani v. Canada, Communication No. 1051/2002,
at 1.2, 5.3, UN Doc. CCPR/C/80/D/1051/2002 (15 June 2004), available at http://www
.worldlii.org/int/cases/UNHRC/2004/6.html.
60
C. Pappa, Das Individualbeschwerdeverfahren des Falkultativprotokolls zum
Internationalen Pakt über bürgerliche und politische Rechte, 316 et seq. (1996) argues
that they are indirectly binding.
568 dinah shelton

members and commentators have argued that the views are “the end
result of a quasi-judicial adversarial international body established and
elected by the States Parties for the purpose of interpreting the
provisions of the Covenant and monitoring compliance with them.
[…] The presumption should be that the Committee’s views in Optional
Protocol cases are treated as authoritative interpretation of the
Covenant under international law.”61 The Committee itself adopted in
2008 a General Comment on the obligations of states parties to the
Optional Protocol. It is consistent with the views of most commenta-
tors as to the requirement of deference to Committee views. According
to General Comment 33,62
11. While the function of the Human Rights Committee in considering
individual communications is not, as such, that of a judicial body, the
views issued by the Committee under the Optional Protocol exhibit some
important characteristics of a judicial decision. They are arrived at in a
judicial spirit, including the impartiality and independence of Committee
members, the considered interpretation of the language of the Covenant,
and the determinative character of the decisions.
Because of this quasi-judicial character,
13. The views of the Committee under the Optional Protocol represent
an authoritative determination by the organ established under the
Covenant itself charged with the interpretation of that instrument. These
views derive their character, and the importance which attaches to them,
from the integral role of the Committee under both the Covenant and
the Optional Protocol.
To further support a juridical status for the Committee’s views on indi-
vidual petitions, General Comment 33 cites Article 2 of the Covenant,
which obligates a party to provide a remedy to any individual whose
rights are violated. According to the Committee, this obligation is trig-
gered each time the Committee makes a finding of a violation after
considering a communication under the Optional Protocol. In addi-
tion, according to the Committee, the character of the views it issues
“is further determined by the obligation of States parties to act in good
faith, both in their participation in the procedures under the Optional

61
R. Hansi / M. Scheinin, Leading Cases of the Human Rights Committee, 22
(2003).
62
Human Rights Committee, General Comment 33, The Obligations of States
Parties under the Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on Civil and
Political Rights, CCPR/C/GC/33, 5 November 2008.
 the legal status of normative pronouncements569

Protocol and in relation to the Covenant itself. A duty to cooperate

with the Committee arises from an application of the principle of good
faith to the observance of all treaty obligations”.63
Commentators are more hesitant than the Committee: “It is clear
from the drafting work that the views of the HRC do not constitute a
legally binding decision as regards the State party concerned.”64 But
they are the last word on the communication. Tomuschat has said:
“Nonetheless any State party will find it hard to reject such findings in
so far as they are based on orderly proceedings during which the
defendant party had ample opportunity to present its submissions. The
views of the HRC gain their authority from their inner qualities of
impartiality, objectivity and soberness. If such requirements are met,
the views of the HRC can have a far-reaching impact.”65 Helfler and
Slaughter conclude that “[i]n numerous and diverse ways, the
Committee, even without the power to issue legally binding judgments,
is behaving more and more like a court. Although by no means a court
in the formal sense and lacking many of the institutional characteris-
tics possessed by the ECJ and the ECHR, the Committee has, within
the limits of its powers, followed an increasingly judicial method of
operation.”66 Its efforts to enhance its effectiveness as a supranational
tribunal are nonetheless handicapped by a number of factors that are
either within the control of the states party to the Covenant or inherent
in the scope of its jurisdiction.
In the Inter-American system, the rules of procedure adopted in
2001 provide that if a state party to the Convention fails to comply with
the recommendations of the Commission, it will forward the case to
the Court unless it takes a decision not to do so or the state in question
has not accepted the jurisdiction of the court. The Court’s view about
the nature of Commission recommendations has changed over time.
When first presenting the issue, in the early case of Caballero-Delgado

63
General Comment 33, para. 15, citing the Vienna Convention on the Law of
Treaties, art. 26.
64
McGoldrick (note 1), at 151.
65
C. Tomuschat, Evolving Procedural Rules: The United Nations Human Rights
Committee’s First Two Years of Dealing with Individual Communications, 1 HRLJ 249,
at 255 (1980). See also N. Ando, The Future of Monitoring Bodies–Limitations and
Possibilities of the HumanRights Committee, Can. Hum. Rts. Y.B. 169, at 172 (1991–
1992) (arguing that it may be premature to expect states parties to authorize the
Committee to issue legally binding decisions).
66
L. Helfer / A.-M. Slaughter, Toward a Theory of Supranational Adjudication, 107
Yale Law Journal 273, at 280–281 (1997).
570 dinah shelton

and Santa v. Colombia, the IACHR requested the Inter-American

Court to “declare that based on the principle of pacta sunt servanda”
the Colombian Government had violated the American Convention
by failing to comply with the Commission’s recommendations.67 In
response, the Court held that:
In the Court’s judgment, the term ‘recommendations’ used by the
American Convention should be interpreted to conform to its ordinary
meaning, in accordance with Article 31(1) of the Vienna Convention on
the Law of Treaties. For that reason, a recommendation does not have the
character of an obligatory judicial decision for which the failure to com-
ply would generate State responsibility. As there is no evidence in the
present Convention that the parties intended to give it a special meaning,
Article 31(4) of the Vienna Convention is not applicable. Consequently,
the State does not incur international responsibility by not complying
with a recommendation which is not obligatory.”68
The Commission made the same assertion in subsequent cases before
the Court69 and in its Loayza Tamayo v. Peru judgment, the Court
modified its approach to the legal weight accorded to Commission rec-
ommendations. While it continued to state that the ordinary meaning
of the term recommendations means that they are not legally binding,
it added:
However, in accordance with the principle of good faith, embodied in the
aforesaid Article 31(1) of the Vienna Convention, if a State signs and rati-
fies an international treaty, especially one concerning human rights, such
as the American Convention, it has the obligation to make every effort to
comply with the recommendations of a protection organ such as the
Inter-American Commission, which is, indeed, one of the principal
organs of the Organization of American States, whose function is ‘to pro-
mote the observance and defense of human rights’ in the hemisphere
(OAS Charter, Articles 52 and 111).
Likewise, Article 33 of the American Convention states that the
Inter-American Commission is, as the Court, competent ‘with respect
to matters relating to the fulfillment of the commitments made by the
States Parties,’ which means that by ratifying said Convention, States
Parties engage themselves to apply the recommendations made by the
Commission in its reports.”70

67
I-A Court H.R., Case of Caballero-Delgado and Santa v. Colombia, Merits,
Judgment of 8 December 1995, para. 23.
68
Id., para. 67.
69
See, e.g. I-A Court H.R., Case of Genie Lacayo v. Nicaragua, Merits, Reparations
and Costs, judgment of 29 January 1997, para. 11.
70
I-A Court H.R., Case of Loayza Tamayo v. Peru, Merits, Judgment of 17 September
1997, paras. 80–81.
 the legal status of normative pronouncements571

Thus, the principle of good faith requires due regard to the Commission’s
recommendations as a matter of applying the structure, object and
purpose of the treaty, which confers a monitoring function on the
Commission. The Court’s analysis could also apply to OAS member
states not party to the American Convention, since the Commission
similarly derives a monitoring function from the OAS Charter. The
Court now consistently reaffirms its insistence on a good faith obliga-
tion of compliance with recommendations of the Commission.71
In addition to the Court’s reference to pacta sunt servanda, the
Commission has relied on the principle of effet utile to insist that states
have a duty to comply with its recommendations.72 Should the state
disagree with the Commission’s interpretation of human rights norms
or obligations, it has a mechanism of review:
Insofar as the Commission is concerned, its reports are valid inter­
pretations of the obligations freely acquire by the states. If a state does
not concur with those interpretations it is at liberty to appeal to the
Inter-American Court, in order to dispute the Commission’s conclu-
sions and procedures. It is significant that, to date, no state has ever
lodged an appeal against the reports of the Commission in contentious
cases.73

V. Follow-up Mechanisms
One indication of the emphasis given to good faith compliance with
pronouncements of human rights treaty bodies is the fact that nearly
all of them have now established follow-up mechanisms to evaluate
compliance with the recommendations they make. In 1990, the HRC
issued a statement concerning measures to monitor compliance with
its views, appointing a special rapporteur for this purpose.74 The special
rapporteur ascertains and monitors the measures taken by States
Parties to give effect to the Committee’s views, by requesting informa-
tion from the State parties in respect of all final views with a finding
of a violation. In the Inter-American system, the Commission’s Rules of

71
See, e.g. Blake v. Guatemala, Merits, Judgment of 24 January 1998, para. 108;
Castillo Petruzzi v. Peru, Merits, Reparations and Costs, Judgment of 30 May 1999;
Case of Cesti Hurtado v. Peru, Merits, Judgment of 29 September 1999, para. 186–187;
and Baena Ricardo v. Panama, Merits, Reparations and Costs, Judgment of 2 February
2001, paras. 191–192.
72
See, e.g. I-A Court H.R., Case of the Penitentiary of Mendoza, Request for
Provisional Measures, Order of 22 November 2004.
73
IACHR (2000).
74
See A/45/40, II 205.
572 dinah shelton

Procedure, Article 46, establish a follow up mechanism based on

Convention Article 41.

E. State Practice

The Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, Article 31(3)(b)

requires that treaty interpretation include, beyond the text and the
context, consideration of “any subsequent practice in the application
of the treaty which establishes the agreement of the parties regarding
its interpretation.” No systematic study has been done of the response
of states parties to the recommendations, observations, views and
general comments of human rights bodies. Some courts have referred
to them as “supplementary means of interpretation” in the sense of
VCLT Article 32 and applied them to confirm the meaning of a provi-
sion in a treaty such as the ICCPR.75 In the Czech Republic, the
Constitutional Court has addressed some of the opinions of the
ICCPR’s Human Rights Committee. While the Committee had con-
cluded that the Czech Republic breached Article 26 of the Covenant in
certain cases concerning restitution in early 1990s, the Constitutional
Court did not apply the Committee’s conclusions, although it took
cognizance of the Committee’s opinions. Occasionally, Netherlands’
courts have referred to General Comments of the Committee supervis-
ing the ICESCR.76
In Canada, courts have rejected enforcement of the decisions of
human rights treaty bodies. The Canadian Supreme Court considered
one matter, Ahani77 in which the UN Human Rights Committee had
issued interim measures, calling upon Canada to suspend deportation
until the full consideration of the applicant’s case. This was refused.
In the second matter, Suresh,78 which was heard by the Ontario Court

75
See: Judgment of the Ōsaka High Court of 28 October 1994, Hanrei Jihō,
vol. 1513, p. 71, Hanrei Taimuzu, vol. 868, at 59; Judgment of the Hiroshima High
Court of 28 April 1999, Kōtō Saibansho Keiji Saiban Sokuhō-Shū, vol. of 1999, at 136).
Also, the Ōsaka District Court, in its judgment of 9 March 2004 (Hanrei Jihō, vol. 1858,
at 79).
76
An example albeit negative is: Centrale Raad van Beroep (Central Appeals
Tribunal: Supreme court in matters of social security), 11 October 2007 (LJN BB
5687).
77
Ahani v. Canada (Attorney General) (note 60).
78
Supreme Court of Canada, Suresh v. Canada (Minister of Citizenship and
Immigration), Judgment of 11 January 2002, 1 S.C.R. 3 (2002).
 the legal status of normative pronouncements573

of Appeal, the petitioner sought and was denied79 an injunction to sus-

pend the deportation order on the basis of the Human Rights
Committee’s interim measure of protection, and thus “preserve an
effective remedy in international law.”80 In the first case, the majority
held that Ahani’s position needed to be rejected because it “would con-
vert a non-binding request in a Protocol [i.e. interim measure], which
has never been part of Canadian law, into a binding obligation enforce-
able in Canada by a Canadian court, and more, into a constitutional
principle of fundamental justice.”81 Concerning the nature of the inter-
national interim measure of protection issued by the Human Rights
Committee, the Court found it evident that neither the Committee’s
final views nor its requests for interim measures are binding or enforce-
able in international law, based on the wording of the Protocol and the
Committee’s Rule 86, from the Committee’s own pronouncements,
from the opinions of recognized international law scholars and from
caselaw. It noted that the Committee itself has said that its “decisions”
are not binding.82

79
See, generally on the case, J. Harrington, Punting Terrorist, Assassins and Other
Undesirables: Canada, the Human Rights Committee and Requests for Interim
Measures of Protection, 48 McGill Law Journal 55 (2003).
80
Ahani v. Canada (Attorney General) (note 60), para. 29.
81
Id., para. 33.
82
It is useful to note that the Committee is neither a court nor a body with a quasi-
judicial mandate, like the organs created under another international Human Rights
instrument, the European Convention on Human Rights (i.e., The European
Commission of Human Rights and the European Court of Human Rights). Still, the
Committee applies the provisions of the Covenant and of the Optional Protocol in a
judicial spirit and, performs functions similar to those of the European Commission of
Human Rights, in as much as the consideration of applications from individuals is
concerned. Its decisions on the merits (of a communication) are, in principle, compa-
rable to the reports of the European Commission, non-binding recommendations.
The two systems differ, however, in that the Optional Protocol does not provide explic-
itly for friendly settlement between the parties, and, more importantly, in that the
Committee has no power to hand down binding decisions as does the European Court
of Human Rights. States parties to the Optional Protocol endeavour to observe the
Committee’s views, but in case of non-compliance the Optional Protocol does not pro-
vide for an enforcement mechanism or for sanctions. See H.R. Comm., Introduction,
in: H.R. Comm., Selected Decisions of the Human Rights Committee under the
Optional Protocol, Vol. 2, at 1 (1990). See also J. H. Burgers / H. Danelius, The United
Nations Convention against Torture: A Handbook on the Convention against Torture
and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment, at 9 (1998). See
also P. R. Ghandhi, The Human Rights Committee and the Right of Individual
Communication: Law and Practice; Duxbury, Saving Lives in the International Court
of Justice: The Use of Provisional Measures to Protect Human Rights, 31 California
Western International Law Journal 141 (2000).
574 dinah shelton

In concluding on this issue, Judge Laskin for the majority held that,
while the Optional Protocol gives a right to individuals to seek the
Human Rights Committee’s views, Canada was allowed to reject them
and, more importantly, it “reserved the right to enforce its own laws
before the Committee gave its views.”83 Accordingly, there was no vio-
lation of the terms of the Optional Protocol in the decision to maintain
the deportation of Ahani, in spite of the Human Rights Committee’s
request for interim measure, since he “has no right to remain in Canada
until the Committee gives its views.”84

F. Conclusion

Compliance with human rights law, like other law, is produced through
a process that involves normative development and internalization of
the norms, involving a combination of national and international
actors. Coercion, persuasion and acculturation are critical to the pro-
cess.85 Over time, human rights bodies have developed practices
unforeseen by the authors of the treaties, practices now well-accepted.
The deference shown through state acquiescence can be seen to reflect
the authoritative role of treaty bodies, giving rise to even greater expec-
tations of compliance in the future.
In practice, the recommendations, observations, and general com-
ments of human rights treaty bodies will have persuasive force insofar
as the organs retain their independence, deliver reasoned and con­
sistent opinions using accepted methods of treaty interpretation, and
establish a pattern of compliance by States Parties. Such bodies are
created precisely to monitor compliance with the obligations of States
Parties, and as a consequence their pronouncements have an authority
lacking on the part of NGOs, commentators or other non-state actors.
States parties have the power to reverse the interpretations of treaty
bodies through amendment of the treaties; thus far, this has never
happened. In practice, when treaty bodies establish a positive reputa-
tion for their work, they garner considerable authority. As it happens,
the Human Rights Committee, the Inter-American Commission, and

83
Ahani v. Canada (Attorney General) (note 60), para. 42.
84
Id.
85
See R. Goodman / D. Jinks, How to Influence States: Socialization and
International Human Rights Law, 54 Duke Law Journal 621 (2004).
 the legal status of normative pronouncements575

the African Commission have brought about general acceptance of

their pronouncements as authoritative interpretations of the legal obli-
gations under their respective treaties. As domestic authorities, espe-
cially courts, incorporate and apply the interpretations, they shift from
soft to hard law. As more states comply, it becomes increasingly diffi-
cult for a single state to hold out and ignore the decisions of human
rights bodies.
 Human Rights Before the International Court of
Justice: Community Interest Coming to Life?

Bruno Simma

In my contribution to the Festschrift for my colleague and friend

Rüdiger Wolfrum, and in special recognition of Rüdiger’s important
work in the field of human rights, particularly as an expert member of
the Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination (CERD),
I want to deal with a specific aspect of a topic which has become a sort
of Leitmotiv in my own more recent academic work: that of the impact
of human rights on the development of international law.
To start with a personal remark: I made my first acquaintance with
the integration of human rights in more traditional international law in
a slightly bizarre way, as it were. About 25 years ago, when ECOSOC
decided to get serious about monitoring the implementation of the
International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights of
1966 and to replace a body of governmental experts assigned to this
task by a Committee of independent experts, the German Foreign
Office chose me as a candidate for membership of this new institu-
tion, apparently because those in charge of human rights in Bonn at
that time sympathized with the specific angle I had pursued in a few
publications of mine on the subject of human rights. These early writ-
ings were devoted to the topic of the enforcement of international
human rights obligations by (non-forcible) countermeasures–an aspect
in line with the spirit of the time, but demonstrating a rather parti­
cular approach to “systemic integration”.1 I then served on the new
monitoring body, the Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural
Rights, from 1987 to 1996, that is, ten years trying to cope with
the daunting task of devising a legal hold on this most doctrinally eva-
sive category of human rights and developing the reporting procedure
into a more meaningful exercise. In the context of the present paper,

1
Cf., e.g., B. Simma, Zur bilateralen Durchsetzung vertraglich verankerter Men-
schenrechte. Aktivlegitimation und zulässige Mittel nach allgemeinem Völkerrecht, in:
C. Schreuer (ed.), Autorität und internationale Ordnung. Aufsätze zum Völkerrecht,
129 (1979).
578 bruno simma

what I remember is that, in the company of my fellow Committee

members, an assortment of 18 “droits de l’hommistes”2 representing a
colourful variety of backgrounds and expertise, I always felt “on guard”,
so to speak, being “in charge of international law”, being the interna-
tional law generalist with the task of frequently reminding my col-
leagues that what they were doing they were doing on the basis provided
by “my” international law, and had to remain within the law’s state-of-
the-art boundaries.
Following this exposure to the workings of the UN human rights
machinery, I spent six years as a member of the UN International Law
Commission. And while before, in the UN’s human rights community,
I had regarded it as my task to function as the Committee’s “in-house”
(generalist international) lawyer, in the ILC, of which at the time I was
the only member with a UN human rights “past”, I soon discovered
that I now felt the other way round, namely having to protect the
specificity and integrity of “my” human rights from attempts by fellow
ILC members, cold-blooded (former or serving) legal advisers or even
politicians, to have these rights turned into “bureaucratic small-
change”, to use Philip Allott’s words.3 To illustrate how I saw my new
task, I engaged in a big–and successful–effort to defeat an attempt to
include the human rights topic of non-discrimination, very much in
fashion at the time, in the agenda of future work of the Commission in
order to save it from being hijacked by what I regarded as these rights’
potential false friends, so to speak. While I beg the reader to take this
observation with a grain of salt, what remains true is that during my
time in the ILC the reflexes acquired in my ten years of human rights
treaty monitoring kept me constantly on guard and sensitive to the
appropriation of human rights by the international law “mainstream”.
As against this background, it will come as no surprise that since
my election to the International Court of Justice I have studied the
treatment of human rights by the Hague Court, the specifically “judi-
cial” interpretation and application of these rights by what has been
called “the gate-keeper and guardian” of general international law,4

2
A. Pellet, Droits de l’hommisme et droit international, Gilberto Amado Lecture
held on 18 July 2000 at the United Nations (Geneva); English Translation: “Human
Rightism and International Law”, 10 Italian Yearbook of International Law 3 (2000).
3
P. Allott, Eunomia. New Order for a New World, at 288 (1990).
4
With regard to a different branch of international law see J.E. Vinuales, The
Contribution of the International Court of Justice to the Development of International
Environmental Law, 32 Fordham International Law Journal 232, at 258 (2008).
 human rights before the international court of justice579

as compared to the “softer”, more politically and policy-inspired han-

dling of human rights in the UN Charter-based system, with particular
attention, with regard to both its development over time and the cur-
rent state of the matter.5 Also, in a large part of the existing literature on
the topic, what I found was a certain positive stereotypical treatment,
rather uncritical praise for the achievements of the ICJ as a protector of
human rights. Thus, a reality check free of undue deference to the
Court appeared to be in place.
I have been engaging in the task I set myself with two correlative
questions in mind: first, has the development of international human
rights law had an impact on the jurisprudence of the Court? Secondly,
and vice versa, has the jurisprudence of the Court contributed to this
development? In what follows I will attempt to provide some tentative
(and necessarily brief) answers to these questions. In so doing, I will
distinguish between two phases in the engagement of the Court with
human rights matters: a–long–first phase marked by a certain restraint
on the part of the Court, and the States parties to its Statute, with regard
to such engagement, and following this a second phase marked by
recent developments indicating a greater degree of readiness to have
the Court decide straightforward human rights questions.

A. Human Rights Before the Court in a First Phase:

Hesitation and Restraint

I. The Case Law of the Court

After the re-birth of the Court in 1945/46, expectations by observers
and potential clients of the Court as to the contribution of what now
had become the “principal judicial organ of the United Nations” to the
realization of the UN’s human rights agenda must have been rather

5
 For the most comprehensive academic treatment of the topic see G. Zyberi, The
Humanitarian Face of the International Court of Justice (2008) (with a bibliography
covering the literature up to and including 2007); since then, R. Higgins, The Interna-
tional Court of Justice and Human Rights, in: id., Themes and Theories. Selected
Essays, Speeches, and Writings in International Law, Vol. 1, 639 (2009); J. Grimheden,
The International Court of Justice–Monitoring Human Rights, in: G. Alfredsson et al.
(eds.), International Human Rights Monitoring Mechanisms. Essays in Honour of
Jakob T. Moeller, 249 (2009); S. Sivakumaran, The International Court of Justice and
human rights, in: S. Joseph / A. McBeth (eds.), Research Handbook on International
Human Rights Law, 299 (2010).
580 bruno simma

low.6 This was probably due to patterns which had become discernible
in the case law of the ICJ’s predecessor, the Permanent Court of
International Justice, touching upon issues which we would now regard
as at least human rights-related. While this case law had displayed
some remarkably progressive “sparks” in several advisory opinions
rendered on the basis of the League of Nations’ system of protection of
minority (group) rights, the Permanent Court’s jurisprudence in con-
tentious cases can only be described as pronouncedly deferential to
national sovereignty; limitations of sovereignty were not to be pre-
sumed, treaty provisions stipulating such limitations were to be inter-
preted restrictively, Lotus, and so forth.7
As against such foreboding, the new Court’s case law dealing with, or
at least somehow touching upon, human rights issues in specific ways
over time turned out to be richer, and certainly less negative, than
expected. As a matter of course, opportunities for the Court to devote
itself to human rights questions will depend almost totally on the
nature of the cases brought to The Hague. It was natural, therefore, that
case law with human rights elements would develop in tandem with
the widening and thickening of international human rights as a growth
industry within post-World War II international law. However, just as
human rights as a body of law and institutions at the global (UN) level
took several decades to develop beyond standard-setting and extend
to–still very limited–implementation, the role of the Court as an inter-
preter and applier of human rights law unfolded gradually and in rather
meandering ways. Thus, in what I would like to call a first phase in the
engagement of the ICJ with human rights, while we find a certain num-
ber of cases in which human rights arguments played some role, some-
times in circumstances in which one would not expect human rights
issues to arise at all, the actual purport of human rights in these cases,

6
Philip Alston brought to my attention a Report of the Australian delegation to
the Second Session of the UN Commission on Human Rights in December 1947,
according to which in the course of the discussion on implementation of the future
“Bill of Human Rights”, the United Kingdom proposed to invest the ICJ with the power
to give advisory opinions on human rights, which could be submitted for action to the
General Assembly. The report adds: “Subsequent discussion demolished this view.”
(document on file with the author).
7
 I still remember the story told by my civil law teacher at the University of
Innsbruck, Professor Franz Gschnitzer, who as a high-ranking Austrian politician had
been involved in the negotiations between Austria and Italy on a satisfactory autonomy
regime for South Tyrol in the late 1950s and early 1960s, how Italy had at a certain
point proposed to let the ICJ decide whether Italy was in compliance with the so-called
“Gruber–De Gasperi Agreement” of 1947, and how Austria reacted by doing every-
thing it could to get this proposal off the negotiating table.
 human rights before the international court of justice581

as well as the contribution of the Court’s jurisprudence to their devel-

opment, was rather limited. If I tried to run through the relevant judg-
ments and advisory opinions rendered during this first phase in
chronological order and, in doing so, group the case law according to
the relevance of human rights considerations, three clusters may be
distinguished (with some decisions falling into more than one of them).
In the first group of decisions, human rights considerations appear
in more or less incidental ways; the legal reasoning in the cases con-
cerned essentially turns round matters which have nothing to do with
human rights, or in regard to which human rights play a mere subordi-
nate role and are thus mentioned more or less obiter, not necessarily in
an entirely positive, fully welcoming sense. I would consider Corfu
Channel (1949), Barcelona Traction (1970), Tehran Hostages (1980) and
the Vienna Consular Convention cases, LaGrand (2001) and Avena
(2004), as belonging to this group. In the first-mentioned case, playing
in the context of naval warfare and thus touching upon international
humanitarian law rather than human rights law in the strict doctrinal
sense and dealing with the duties of coastal States in maritime zones
under their jurisdiction, the Court strengthened its confirmation of a
duty on the part of these littoral States to clear their territorial seas of
mines with a remarkably humanitarian appeal, referring to “obligations
[…] based on […] certain general and well-recognized principles”,
among them “elementary considerations of humanity”.8 In its Barcelona
Traction Judgment, the Court, at the outset of its discussion on diplo-
matic protection of shareholders, suddenly turned to a distinction
between bilateralist obligations arising in that area and a new category
of obligations erga omnes, among which it counted the prohibition of
genocide and obligations deriving from “the principles and rules con-
cerning the basic rights of the human person”, before returning to the
international legal aspects of company law.9 In the Tehran Hostages
case, the ICJ condemned the treatment of the detained US diplomatic
and consular personnel as incompatible, inter alia, “with the funda-
mental principles enunciated in the Universal Declaration of Human
Rights”.10 I will consider LaGrand and Avena in a later, more specific,

Corfu Channel (United Kingdom v. Albania), ICJ Reports 1949, 4, 22.

    8

Barcelona Traction, Light and Power Company, Limited (Belgium v. Spain), Second
    9

Phase, ICJ Reports 1970, 3, 32, 47.

10
United States Diplomatic and Consular Staff in Tehran (United States v. Iran),
ICJ Reports 1980, 3, 42.
582 bruno simma

context as showing that there were instances in which the Court actu-
ally avoided taking up human rights questions, even though such a cat-
egorization of matters in dispute was offered to it on a silver platter, as
it were. What the before-mentioned cases belonging to this first group
have in common is that the Court referred to human rights in a context
distinct from that branch of the law, with these references lighting up
the sky for a short moment before the Court returned to more mun-
dane matters.
The situation is similar in the second cluster, although here human
rights considerations occupied somewhat more space, but still these
considerations were more in the nature of an occasion for the Court, a
trigger, to engage in discussion of matters different from human rights,
even though the subjects might somehow be linked technically. Let me
exemplify my point by reference to the Court’s Advisory Opinion on
Reservations to the Genocide Convention (1951).11 This Opinion, while
hinging on a treaty which could be called the first human rights instru-
ment created within the United Nations, yielded relatively little with
regard to the specific legal features of the Genocide Convention; instead
in a formidable exercise of judicial law-making it crafted major parts of
what subsequently became the contemporary regime of reservations to
multilateral treaties in general. I would submit that a similar triggering,
but ultimately ancillary, role was played by human rights in the Court’s
Advisory Opinions on the Interpretation of Peace Treaties (1950), focus-
ing on the operability of treaty provisions on dispute settlement;12 in
the three Advisory Opinions rendered on certain technical aspects of
the supervision by the UN of the international status of South West
Africa (1950, 1955, 1956);13 in the 1986 Nicaragua Judgment’s refusal to
accept the use of force on the part of the United States as an appropri-
ate method to ensure respect for human rights;14 as well as in the two
Advisory Opinions by which the Court confirmed the immunities of

11
Reservations to the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of
Genocide, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Reports 1951, 15.
12
Interpretation of Peace Treaties with Bulgaria, Hungary and Romania, Advisory
Opinions, First Phase, ICJ Reports 1950, 65; Second Phase, id., 221.
13
International Status of South West Africa, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Reports 1950,
128; Voting Procedure on Questions relating to Reports and Petitions concerning the
Territory of South West Africa, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Reports 1955, 67; Admissibility of
Hearings of Petitioners by the Committee on South West Africa, Advisory Opinion, ICJ
Reports 1956, 23.
14
Military and Paramilitary Activities in and against Nicaragua (Nicaragua v. United
States), ICJ Reports 1986, 14, 134–135, para. 268.
 human rights before the international court of justice583

UN Special Rapporteurs in the field of human rights and thus strength-

ened the UN’s human rights machinery, that is, in the Mazilu case
(1989)15 and ten years later again in Cumaraswamy (1999).16
The third group consists of a number of cases in which the Court
developed the right of self-determination of peoples. I mention them
here because in the human rights doctrine developed and pursued by
the United Nations, the realization of self-determination in the context
of decolonization was regarded as the conditio sine qua non for the
enjoyment of individual human rights. Thus in several decisions and
opinions on South West Africa, the Court dealt with this right with
regard to some more technical questions on international supervi-
sion,17 but also drawing certain substantive conclusions, carrying both
positive18 and decidedly negative19 messages for the anti-Apartheid
and wider human rights community. These cases were followed by
the Advisory Opinion on the Western Sahara,20 which met with gen-
eral acclaim, quite contrary to the reception of the ICJ’s refusal, 20
years later, to take on the merits of the East Timor case despite paying
lip-service to the right of self-determination as an entitlement erga
omnes.21 The most recent judicial pronouncements on the right to
self-determination are to be found in the Advisory Opinions on
the Wall of 200422 and on the Kosovo Declaration of Independence of
2010,23 yielding very different results in the eyes of the protagonists of
a progressive reading of this right. Since the present paper is devoted
to the impact of individual human rights on the jurisprudence of
the Court and vice versa, I will in what follows leave the case law on
self-determination aside.

15
Applicability of Article VI, Section 22, of the Convention on the Privileges and
Immunities of the United Nations, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Reports 1989, 177.
16
Difference Relating to Immunity from Legal Process of a Special Rapporteur of the
Commission on Human Rights, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Reports 1999, 62.
17
Cf. the Advisory Opinions referred to in note 13; in addition Legal Consequences
for States of the Continued Presence of South Africa in Namibia (South West Africa)
notwithstanding Security Council Resolution 276 (1970), Advisory Opinion, ICJ Reports
1971, 16.
18
Cf. id.
19
Cf. South West Africa (Ethiopia v. South Africa; Liberia v. South Africa), Second
Phase, ICJ Reports 1966, 6.
20
Western Sahara, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Reports 1975, 12.
21
East Timor (Portugal v. Australia), ICJ Reports 1995, 90.
22
Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian
Territory, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Reports 2004, 136.
23
Accordance with international law of the unilateral declaration of independence in
respect of Kosovo, Request for Advisory Opinion, available at http://www.icj-cij.org/
docket/files/141/15987.pdf.
584 bruno simma

On the other hand, what may deserve to be mentioned in conclusion

of my short tour d’horizon of the jurisprudence of the Court turning
“around” or otherwise somehow technically connected with human
rights, are the two Judgments in which the United States was found
in breach of the obligation deriving from the 1963 Vienna Convention
on Consular Relations to inform detained foreign nationals of their
right to seek consular assistance from their home country: LaGrand
(2001) and Avena (2004).24 In the LaGrand case, Germany had argued
that the entitlement of a foreigner to be informed of this right without
delay under Article 36, paragraph 1, of the Vienna Convention was not
only an individual right but had over time assumed the character of a
human right proper, akin to an international guarantee of a fair trial.
Though admittedly progressive, this position reflected the approach
which not only the UN General Assembly had adopted already in the
1980s, but which above all the Inter-American Court of Human Rights
had followed in an advisory opinion on the question rendered in 1999
upon the request of Latin American countries most strongly affected
by the practical application of the death penalty in the United States.
In its LaGrand Judgment of 2001, the Hague Court avoided pronounc-
ing on the issue (and thus taking any stand on a position taken by
another international court but remaining controversial between the
Parties to the case before it). Having found that the United States had
violated the rights accorded by the Convention to the LaGrand
brothers as individual rights, it declared that it did not need to examine
Germany’s additional argument claiming human rights status for these
entitlements.25 This diffidence did not deter Mexico, in the Avena
case brought in 2003, from reconfirming the German argument with
even greater emphasis and attaching farther-reaching consequences to
it, by claiming that the Article 36 right “is a fundamental human right
that constitutes part of due process in criminal proceedings, […] this
right as such is so fundamental that its infringement will ipso facto pro-
duce the effect of vitiating the entire process of the criminal proceed-
ings conducted in violation of this fundamental right”.26 The Court

24
LaGrand (Germany v. United States), ICJ Reports 2001, 466; Avena and Other
Mexican Nationals (Mexico v. United States), ICJ Reports 2004, 12. In its Judgment of
30 November 2010 in the case of Ahmadou Sadio Diallo (Republic of Guinea v. Demo-
cratic Republic of the Congo) (available at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/103/
16244.pdf), the Court found the DRC also in breach of Article 36(1)(b) of the Vienna
Consular Convention, cf. paras. 90–97 of the Judgment.
25
LaGrand (note 24), at 494.
26
Avena (note 24), at 60–61.
 human rights before the international court of justice585

replied first, in confirmation of LaGrand, that whether or not the

Vienna Convention rights were human rights was a matter which it did
not have to decide, and then went on to observe “that neither the text
nor the object and purpose of the Convention, nor any indication in
the travaux préparatoires, support the conclusion that Mexico draws
from its contention in this regard”.27
It should have become clear why I count the LaGrand and Avena
Judgments, despite their being so recent, among the case law belonging
to a phase marked by a certain degree of hesitation and constraint on
the part of the ICJ vis-à-vis human rights–even though I submit that
the Court’s avoidance of an answer to the question of the human rights
character vel non of the individual right of consular assistance was due
less to problems of principle with such characterization than to the fact
that the United States had made a rather unattractive effort in its oral
pleadings in LaGrand to have the Opinion rendered by the Inter-
American Court of Human Rights on the Article 36 rights appear as a
quantité negligeable, thus presenting the ICJ with a Pandora’s box it did
not want to open. Remember that this happened at a time when the
Hague Court, as a matter of general policy, avoided by all means pos-
sible supporting its own conclusions by reference to the findings of
other international courts and tribunals, before in 2007 it changed its
position diametrically in the Genocide case, der Not gehorchend, nicht
dem eignen Triebe.28

27
 Id., at 61.
28
 In earlier publications on the LaGrand/Avena saga [B. Simma, Eine endlose
Geschichte? Artikel 36 der Wiener Konsularkonvention in Todesstrafenfällen vor dem
IGH und amerikanischen Gerichten, in: P-M. Dupuy et al. (eds.), Völkerrecht als
Wertordnung. Common Values in International Law. Essays in Honour of Christian
Tomuschat, 423, at 436 (2006); B. Simma / C. Hoppe, The LaGrand Case: A Story of
Many Miscommunications, in: J.E. Noyes et al. (eds.), International Law Stories, 371, at
388–389 (2007); B. Simma/C. Hoppe, From LaGrand and Avena to Medellin–A Rocky
Road Toward Implementation, 14 Tulane Journal of International and Comparative
Law 7, at 11–13 (2005)], I commented on the ICJ’s reactions to the Mexican conten-
tions in Avena on the human rights character of the Article 36 rights and the conse-
quences of their violation in a way which might have led to misunderstandings. Let me
therefore clarify that in para. 124 of its Avena Judgment the Court repeated what it had
already stated in LaGrand, namely that it did not have to decide whether or not these
rights qualified as human rights. What it did not find a basis for in its interpretation of
Article 36, paragraph 1, subparagraph (b), however, were the far-reaching conclusions
Mexico had drawn from the alleged character of the Article 36 rights as fundamental
human rights, to the effect that violations of these rights would ipso facto vitiate the
entirety of criminal proceedings suffering therefrom. This is what I meant when in the
Tulane Journal 2005 (supra) I wrote that in para. 124, the ICJ “curtail[ed] the potential
reach of a human right to consular notification”.
586 bruno simma

II. The Background and Context of the Earlier Case Law

The preceding review of the Court’s jurisprudence has shown a certain
growth in the number of human rights-related cases, and maybe also
an increasing openness on the part of the Court to accept and deal with
submissions and arguments in this regard during an early but pro-
tracted phase. However, the relevance and relative weight of human
rights-related discourse in the case law described above differ greatly.
If we wanted to test such relevance by determining when and how often
the term “human rights” appeared in the dispositif of a decision, the
result for the earlier period still under consideration would be thor-
oughly negative: that happened for the first time only in the Congo v.
Uganda Judgment rendered in 2005, to which I will turn later.
An examination of the reasons for such relative abstinence on the
part of the Court in human rights questions will have to consider a few
rather basic facts about its jurisdiction, its reach, as it were. It is impor-
tant to note that these facts pertain not only to what I have called the
early phase in the Court’s treatment of human rights; they are as rele-
vant to the present situation as they were before, even though their
influence appears to be somehow reduced.
The first, and actually the most basic, but also the most fundamental,
reason is to be seen in the principle that the Court’s jurisdiction is not
compulsory; it presupposes the Parties’ consent. In the case of human
rights treaties, the most important expression of such consent is to be
found in compromissory clauses providing for ICJ jurisdiction.
However, among the major human rights treaties, only five contain
such a clause.29 Of these five treaties, only the oldest, namely the
Genocide Convention of 1948, allows immediate, direct access to the
Court. This Convention is the only major UN human rights treaty
which did not establish a treaty body for the supervision of perfor-
mance by States parties30–where such monitoring bodies do exist in

29
 Namely the Genocide Convention 1948, 78 UNTS 277; the Convention on the
Political Rights of Women 1952, 193 UNTS 135; the International Convention on
the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination 1965, 660 UNTS 195; the
Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women 1979,
1249 UNTS 13; and the Convention Against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or
Degrading Treatment or Punishment 1984, 1465 UNTS 85.
30
 For a human rights-friendly view on the consequences of this feature for the
legitimacy and admissibility of reservations excluding the jurisdiction of the ICJ as
the only institutional means of supervising performance by States parties to the
Genocide Convention see the Joint Separate Opinion of Judges Higgins, Kooijmans,
 human rights before the international court of justice587

addition to a compromissory clause providing for ICJ jurisdiction,

the question arises whether recourse to the treaty-based procedures
before the respective monitoring body must be had before a case can be
brought to the Court. This very question will soon be decided by the
Court in its decision on Preliminary Objections in the Georgia v. Russia
case, turning around the allegation of violations of the International
Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination
of 1965.31
The second reason for the relative dearth of human rights cases
before the ICJ is a structural one. In a way, we are looking at the “wrong
relationship” here: approaching human rights problems, above all the
issue of violations, from an inter-State perspective can only bring to the
fore, and solve, certain limited aspects of these problems. The ICJ will
deal with violations of human rights as matters of State responsibility,
and State responsibility is typical “law by states for states”.32 The indi-
viduals who are victims of human rights violations will remain invisi-
ble; if a State decides to espouse their claims, the spirit of Mavrommatis
will prevail.33 The task of the ICJ, however, is the settlement precisely of
inter-State disputes; only States can sue each other before the Court,
while individuals have to watch from the gallery in the Great Hall of
Justice. Whether we like it or not, it is a fact that the preparedness of
States to bring “pure”, genuine human rights scenarios before the Court
has always been extremely limited, and my rather firm assumption is
that this will remain the case–the few swallows I will mention in the
next chapter have yet to make a summer.
The situation is of course different in the case of international
humanitarian law. In essence, IHL displays inter-State structures of

Elaraby, Owada and Simma to the Judgment in the Armed Activities on the territory of
the Congo Case (New Application: 2002) (Democratic Republic of the Congo v.
Rwanda), ICJ Reports 2006, 6, 65.
31
Application of the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of
Racial Discrimination (Georgia v. Russian Federation), available at http://www.icj-cij
.org.
32
R. McCorquodale, Impact on State Responsibility, in: M.T. Kamminga /
M. Scheinin (eds.), The Impact of Human Rights Law on General International Law,
235, at 236 (2009).
33
Mavrommatis Palestine Concessions, PCIJ 1924, Series A, No. 2, 12: “By taking up
the case of one of its subjects and by resorting to diplomatic action or international
judicial proceedings on his behalf, a State is in reality asserting its own rights–its right
to ensure, in the person of its subjects, respect for the rules of international law. Once
a State has taken up a case on behalf of one of its subjects before an international tribu-
nal, in the eyes of the latter the State is sole claimant”.
588 bruno simma

performance and from this theoretical angle would offer itself more
readily to methods of dispute settlement devised for problems arising
in inter-State relations proper. Unfortunately, however, the readiness of
States voluntarily to submit contentious issues of jus in bello to impar-
tial third-party adjudication is close to zero; States will have to be
forced to do so, for instance by Security Council fiat based on Chapter
VII of the UN Charter; on the attempt to criminalize internationally
individual behaviour in violation of IHL and human rights International
Criminal Court, the jury has been out now for a depressingly long
time. It is the more surprising, therefore, that our consent-based ICJ
has been in a situation to develop some case law in the area of IHL. But
since the Court’s jurisprudence on IHL matters is very recent, I will
touch upon it in the treatment of what I will call the second phase of
our story.
To return to the topic preceding my side glance on international
humanitarian law, what do I mean by a “pure” human rights scenario?
The “purity” which, by some idealistic streak, I have in mind here
would comprise two elements. First, we would have to do with an
instance in which State A would bring before the Court violations of
human rights committed by State B against State B’s own nationals, that
is, not governed by the reflexes of diplomatic protection of nationals of
State A. And secondly, the case would not obviously be a collateral
attack on another State within the context of a broader political dis-
pute, that is, constitute a kind of juridical Nebenkriegsschauplatz, an
ancillary theatre of conflict. However, even if these two elements were
present (and I will turn to the first and only case getting close to fulfill-
ing both conditions in the next section), the Court would still remain
structurally different from, and miles away from deserving the label of,
a “world court of human rights”.34 Most human rights violations are
committed by the victims’ “home” States. Hence, in order to turn the
ICJ into a genuine human rights court, among many other things,
access to the Court as Parties would have to be opened to the individ-
ual victims of human rights violations–a utopian thought. I am unable

34
That is why, despite the increasing human rights-friendliness of the ICJ, serious
“droits de l’hommistes” have never given up the idea of a real, genuine, World Court of
Human Rights; see, most recently, the Research Reports by M. Scheinin (“Towards a
World Court of Human Rights”) and M. Nowak / J. Kozma (“A World Court of Human
Rights”) produced within the framework of the Swiss Initiative to Commemorate the
60th Anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (on file with the
author).
 human rights before the international court of justice589

to see how the establishment of a Human Rights Chamber of the pre-

sent Court could overcome any of the hurdles thus described.35 And, of
course, this is the moment at which regional human rights courts are
supposed to, and will, come into play; while they face plenty of chal-
lenges of their own, they do not suffer from the just described inherent
limitations to which the ICJ is subject.
Returning to the Court’s role as an instrument designed for use by
and between States, in contentious cases–and these instances consti-
tute an overwhelming majority of the ICJ’s workload, the Court’s find-
ings will depend on and essentially be limited by the submissions
ultimately formulated by the parties; the situation resembles that of
domestic civil litigation, characterized by the judicial deference to
party autonomy coined in the prohibition of going ultra petita partium.
In this regard, the Court is thus “hostage” to the Parties; it is the parties
who remain the masters of the proceedings.
Further, while it is true that, at the level of policy, contemporary
international law posits a community interest in the respect for human
rights (admirably accommodated, for instance, in the International
Law Commission’s 2001 Articles on State responsibility).36 States have
hitherto not shown great willingness, to put it mildly, to enforce such
interest by litigating in the ICJ human rights disputes as such, even
though, both doctrinally and technically, the possibility of doing so
exists.37
Such hesitation by States to pursue community interests and enforce
compliance with obligations erga omnes, particularly those flowing
from human rights norms, by judicial means is no specific phenome-
non before the ICJ, however. At the universal (UN) level, not a single
inter-State complaint has ever been brought before a treaty body on the

35
 For a pleading in this regard, cf. G. Zyberi, Taking Rights Seriously: Time for
Establishing a Human Rights and Humanitarian Issues Chamber at the International
Court of Justice?, 2 University of Prishtina Journal of Human Rights and Policy 103
(2009).
36
Cf. B. Simma, Human Rights and State Responsibility, in: A. Reinisch/
U. Kriebaum (eds.), The Law of International Relations–Liber Amicorum for Hanspeter
Neuhold, 359 (2007).
37
Cf. C. Tams, Enforcing Obligations Erga Omnes in International Law, particularly
at 158, 324 (2005, reprint 2010); Art. 3 of the Resolution of the Institut de droit interna-
tional on “Obligations erga omnes in International Law” adopted at the 2005 Krakow
Session, in: 71 II Annuaire de l’Institut de droit international 289 (2006); and my
Separate Opinion in the Case concerning armed activities on the territory of the Congo
(Democratic Republic of the Congo v. Uganda), ICJ Reports 2005, 168, 334.
590 bruno simma

basis of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights or

any of the other human rights treaties, even though several of these
treaties provide for this possibility. Inter-State litigation has also been
extremely rare before regional human rights courts, and, in the cases
where it has happened, it was there, too, almost always connected with
an international political dispute, in other words it formed one of the
Nebenkriegsschauplätze I referred to earlier.

B. The More Recent Picture: a Qualitative Leap?

I. The Court’s New Case Law

Within the last few years, the picture has begun to change: human
rights cases have fared more prominently on the Court’s docket than
they did before. This is true not only from the viewpoint of sheer num-
bers, but also from that of quality. While in the long first period
described above human rights considerations essentially arose in inci-
dental ways and played subordinate or marginal roles, the Court has
now begun to tackle human rights issues in more straightforward ways
and has turned to deciding cases focusing squarely on allegations of
human rights violations. This development embraces international
humanitarian law.
The story begins with the Nuclear Weapons Advisory Opinion of
1996, in which the issue of whether, and in what circumstances, the
threat or use of nuclear weapons could result in violations not only of
international humanitarian law but also of human rights law properly
so called, constituted one of the angles from which the ICJ approached
the question posed to it by the General Assembly.38 The Court’s replies
on the matter may not strike the reader as particularly comprehensive
or penetrating, but the remarkable fact is that here we have the Court
for the first time squarely facing and developing a view on a human
rights question, even though only in the abstract.
The step from the abstract to the concrete was accomplished in the
Wall Opinion of 2004,39 in which the Court found that Israel’s con-
struction of the separation barrier on occupied Palestinian territory

38
Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Reports
1996, 226, 239–240.
39
Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian
Territory (note 22), at 184–192.
 human rights before the international court of justice591

amounted to an entire series of violations of obligations erga omnes and

juris cogentis, prominent among them obligations arising from human
rights treaties to which Israel is a party as well as from international
humanitarian law.
The Court’s next step was that from the advisory to the legally bind-
ing. It was accomplished in the Congo v. Uganda Judgment of 200540–
the first judgment in the Court’s history in which a finding of human
rights violations, combined with findings of violations of international
humanitarian law, was included in the dispositif.
In another of the cases brought by the Democratic Republic of the
Congo against those of its neighbours which were involved in the Great
Lakes wars from the late 1980s to the early 1990s, namely Congo v.
Rwanda, the Claimant, inter alia, alleged violations of the Genocide
Convention by Rwanda, but the Court decided that it did not have
jurisdiction on that basis because Rwanda, the very country in which
the most horrendous post World War II genocide had taken place in
1994, had excluded the legal effect of the Convention’s compromissory
clause by way of a reservation, which the Court regarded as validly
made.41 While this finding only followed its earlier jurisprudence,42 the
Court took the opportunity to explain that even the peremptory nature
of substantive obligations of the Genocide Convention could not com-
pensate for, or replace, the lack of consent, expressed by Rwanda’s res-
ervation, to have the Court decide on the allegation of genocide. Five
members of the Court, among them myself, found this position unsat-
isfactory enough to write a joint Separate Opinion.43

40
Armed Activities on the Territory of the Congo (note 37).
41
Armed Activities on the Territory of the Congo (New Application: 2002) (Democratic
Republic of the Congo v. Rwanda) (note 30), at 32–33, para. 68.
42
Legality of Use of Force (Yugoslavia v. Spain), Provisional Measures, Order of 2
June 1999, ICJ Reports 1999 (II), 772, paras. 32–33; Legality of Use of Force (Yugoslavia
v. United States), id., 924, paras. 24–25.
43
Supra, note 30. Our criticism proceeds from the observation that it is highly prob-
lematic for a State to make a reservation excluding recourse to the monitoring or judi-
cial machinery embodied in a human rights treaty, especially if such recourse consti-
tutes the only option available to have questionable reservations to that treaty evaluated
in an objective manner. The Separate Opinion notes the importance of the role of the
ICJ for the achievement of the purposes of a treaty such as the Genocide Convention,
where, in the absence of a treaty body exercising supervisory functions, States are the
only monitors of each others’ compliance with their treaty obligations and the only
impartial third party they can call in case of a dispute in this regard is the Court. For a
critical view on this Opinion cf. H. Thirlway, The International Court of Justice, 1989–
2009: At the Heart of the Dispute Settlement System?, 57 Netherlands International
Law Review 347, at 366–371 (2010).
592 bruno simma

Next in the line of ICJ decisions relevant in the human rights context
came the Court’s 2007 Judgment in the Genocide Case which had been
brought by Bosnia-Herzegovina against Serbia as early as 1993.44 Like
the two African cases just described, this litigation constituted what
I earlier called a juridical Nebenkriegsschauplatz, collateral action
within the context of a wider political-military dispute. This becomes
clear if we confront both the submissions listed in Bosnia’s original
application, squeezed–unsuccessfully–through the needle’s eye of the
Genocide Convention, and the concept of one single, overarching
“genocide” comprising the entirety of the hostile activities of the Serbs
and the Bosnian Serbs in Bosnia-Herzegovina put forward by the
Claimant at the stage of the hearings 13 years later, with the actual out-
come of the case: the Court following the findings of the ICTY, accord-
ing to which one single incident of genocide, albeit of the utmost
gravity, had occurred at Srebenica in July 1995, and declaring Serbia
in breach of the obligation of prevention embodied in the 1948
Convention. Be this as it may, the case remains a human rights case,
like the still-pending second Genocide case, this time brought by
Croatia against Serbia in 1999, in regard to which the Court engaged in
a truly remarkable effort to arrive at jurisdiction in 2008.45
Once we leave these politically-charged instances, we arrive at the
Case of Ahmadou Sadio Diallo (Republic of Guinea v. Democratic
Republic of the Congo) decided by the Court in November 2010.46
From the viewpoint of the handling of human rights-related matters
by litigants as well as by the ICJ itself, Diallo displays very different
characteristics. At first glance, we have to do with a case of diplo-
matic protection, rather old-fashioned as such, protection exercised by
Guinea through bringing an application to the Court. But a closer look
reveals features which are pertinent to our topic. The case arose from
the mistreatment of a Guinean businessman in the DRC, mistreatment
which Diallo experienced both personally, by being illegally arrested
and detained in the Congo and ultimately expelled from the country,
and through the consequences which these and other measures of the

44
Application of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime
of Genocide (Bosnia and Herzegovina v. Serbia and Montenegro), Judgment, ICJ
Reports 2007 (I), p. 43.
45
Application of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of
Genocide (Croatia v. Serbia), Preliminary Objections, Judgment, ICJ Reports 2008,
p. 412.
46
Ahmadou Sadio Diallo (note 24).
 human rights before the international court of justice593

Congolese authorities had on the fate of two companies which he con-

trolled, regarded by the Claimant as a case of indirect expropriation.
I will not go into what I will call the international economic (company/
shareholders) law aspects involved in the case as opposed to the human
rights law on which Guinea relied concerning the treatment of Diallo
personally, namely the International Covenant on Civil and Political
Rights and the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights. What
is noteworthy in our context, however, is that, while in Guinea’s origi-
nal application allegations of violations by the DRC of obligations aris-
ing under international economic law had enjoyed priority over the
claims of violations of Diallo’s human rights, this underwent a marked
change after the Court had in 2007 declined jurisdiction over the most
important company and shareholders’ law claims.47 From now on, the
human rights aspects rose like a phoenix from the ashes of the case,
if I am allowed this rather unflattering metaphor, and enjoyed equal
rank, if not priority, both in the Parties’ pleadings and in the final
Judgment of the Court. In a way, the case also emancipated itself from
the dogmatic straitjacket of diplomatic protection: the Judgment goes
on speaking of Diallo’s individual human rights as such and does not
even try to translate them back into rights of Diallo’s home State à la
Mavrommatis; it engages in straightforward assessments of breaches of
human rights treaty provisions and in so doing expressly refers to, and
follows, the jurisprudence of UN and regional monitoring bodies,
without engaging in any of the exercises in coyness that had marked
the Court’s relationship with other international courts and tribunals
before (that is, until the Genocide Case). The only occasion at which an
element of diplomatic protection resurfaces is with regard to the
question of reparation for the injuries suffered by Diallo: such repara-
tion is to be determined through negotiations between the Parties, for
which the Court sets a rather tight deadline of six months;48 thus, an
inter-State mechanism is used by which the affected individual as the
bearer of the human rights in question is represented at the diplomatic
level by his State of nationality; while the individual is the holder of the
rights, the judicial enforcement of these rights remains entrusted to
the State (faute de mieux, one could say, because in the case at hand,
no other, specialized implementation machinery is available). I would

47
 In its Judgment on preliminary objections of 24 May 2007, ICJ Reports 2007 (II),
582.
48
Ahmadou Sadio Diallo (note 24), at para. 164.
594 bruno simma

submit that in thus squaring the procedures of diplomatic protection

and human rights as direct rights of the individual under international
law, the Court in Diallo has made an important contribution to the
reconciling of these two areas of the law in a progressive sense, further
away from the spirit of Mavrommatis and in line with the recent efforts
of the ILC.49
Thus far go the recent human rights cases already decided by the
Court. Our search for new trends in the ICJ’s human rights-related
jurisprudence would be incomplete, however, if we did not include in
our consideration a number of pertinent cases which are still pending.
First among them is the case of Georgia v. Russia, brought in 2008,50
with Georgia claiming that Russia, by actions of its own organs as well
as of the de facto authorities in South Ossetia and Abkhazia on and
around Georgian territory, culminating in the armed conflict in August
2008, had breached the International Convention on the Elimination
of all Forms of Racial Discrimination (CERD) of 1965. With all due
regard to judicial confidentiality, two features of this litigation deserve
to be mentioned. On the one hand, this is a case which, like the Balkan
Genocide cases I have mentioned before, turns exclusively round a par-
ticular human rights treaty; within an inter-State, and in this sense
purely bilateralist, framework the Applicant accuses the Respondent of
having committed violations of its obligations under CERD–a constel-
lation which should make the academic protagonists of a so-called
“objective” nature of human rights treaty obligations reconsider their
views.51 On the other hand, however, Georgia v. Russia is as far from
constituting what earlier on I called a “pure” human rights case as one
can get, because if ever there was an instance of ICJ litigation present-
ing all the features of a legal Nebenkriegsschauplatz, this is it.
Moving from one extreme to the other, the case introduced by
Belgium against Senegal in February 2009 relating to the obligation to
prosecute or extradite52 appears to me the most clean-cut, “unpolitical”,
as it were, human rights case so far brought before the Court. If a fully

49
Cf. the Separate Opinion of Judge Cançado Trindade in the Mavrommatis Case
(note 33), at paras. 222–242.
50
Application of the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of
Racial Discrimination (note 31).
51
Cf. on this view B. Simma, From Bilateralism to Community Interest in
International Law, 250 Recueil des Cours 217, at 364–375 (1994).
52
Application instituting Proceedings in the Case Questions relating to the Obligation
to Prosecute or Extradite (Belgium v. Senegal), 16 February 2009, available at http://
www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/144/15054.pdf.
 human rights before the international court of justice595

fledged “droits de l’hommiste” were to express it somewhat colloquially:

this is a human rights case which is almost too good to be true. Belgium
has come to the Court to vindicate its right as a State party to the 1984
UN Convention against Torture (CAT) as well as under customary
international law to secure that Hissène Habré, the former dictator in
Chad and alleged perpetrator of acts of torture during his violent reign
in Chad in the 1980s, now present in Senegal, will either be prosecuted
by Senegal, or, failing such prosecution, will be extradited to Belgium–
in other words, that Senegal fulfill its obligation of aut dedere aut judi-
care. The Applicant does not frame its request in terms of diplomatic
protection of Belgian nationals except very marginally; while the
Application mentions that at the domestic level the case was triggered
by complaints to the Belgian courts made, among others, by a Belgian
national of Chadian origin and taken up by the Belgian judiciary in the
exercise of the passive personality principle,53 this link retreats far into
the background in Belgium’s further pleadings. Rather, Belgium con-
strues its claims as deriving from the right of any State party to CAT to
see to it that any other State party fulfill the obligation correlative to
this right, to either prosecute or extradite. The Applicant regards this
obligation as arising erga omnes partes to the Convention. It thus bases
itself on an exclusively inter-State construction of CAT, which, by the
way, perfectly fits the structure of the Convention itself: CAT contains
nothing but a set of obligations for its States parties and nowhere men-
tions the individual human right to be free from torture; it rather pre-
supposes this right as consecrated in other human rights treaties like
the ICCPR as well as in rules of general international law juris cogentis
on combating impunity for international crimes. Significantly, Senegal
appears to agree with Belgium’s view of the situation in conventional
as well as customary international law. Again, what we have before us
here is an understanding of the rights and obligations arising for States
parties to human rights conventions which does not lose itself in lofty
constructs of “objective” obligations under such treaties, with the
respective rights belonging exclusively to individuals, or the like; rather
it retains the emphasis on mutually-bound States parties and their
responsibility to keep the treaties alive.
Speaking of responsibility in the sense of State responsibility for
internationally wrongful acts, this, however, is a point on which

 Id., at para. 3.
53
596 bruno simma

Belgium’s humanitarian zeal appears somewhat premature: in its writ-

ten reply to questions put to it at the end of the hearings on provisional
measures by Judge Cançado Trindade, the Applicant explains its liti-
gant status in terms of such State responsibility, namely as that of an
“injured State”, more precisely, a “specially affected” State, within the
meaning of Article 42 of the ILC’s 1981 Draft Articles, “since the non-
performance of the 1984 Convention affects it as a State Party to that
Convention”.54 Strictly speaking, however, what Belgium pursues in its
application is not the invocation of State responsibility. Such invoca-
tion presupposes the prior commission of an international wrong.
However, the facts of Belgium’s case have not reached that stage yet;
rather, what its claim does, moving at the level of “primary rules”, is to
request Senegal to perform its obligations under the 1984 Convention
and thus avoid State responsibility proper setting in.
I will conclude my tour d’horizon of the Court’s recent case law with
a brief look at a very particular category of ICJ human rights cases,
namely instances in which the Applicant bases (part of) its claims on
human rights norms, while the Respondent counters with defences
resting on other, more traditional, premises of international law. The
configuration in which this antinomy has presented itself to the Court
so far has consisted of encounters between claims to criminal respon-
sibility of individual perpetrators accused of war crimes or crimes
against humanity, or to delictual responsibility of the States behind
these crimes, on the human rights side, and, on the other, of the claim
to jurisdictional immunity of these States, or of the responsible State
organs. What these cases demonstrate is that, also in the ICJ, human
rights arguments are far from winning the upper hand in all instances.
This became painfully clear in its Judgment in the Arrest Warrant
(Yerodia) Case between the Democratic Republic of the Congo and
Belgium, in which the Court took the highly problematic view that for-
mer foreign ministers enjoy absolute immunity from the criminal
jurisdiction of national courts also for past official acts constituting
grave crimes against humanity, even incitement to genocide.55 If the
international human rights community might have nurtured the hope

54
Response of Belgium to the question put by Judge Cançado Trindade at the end
of the public sitting of 8 April 2009, Doc. BS 2009/15 (15 April 2009), at 4 (on file with
the author).
55
Arrest Warrant of 11 April 2000 (Democratic Republic of the Congo v. Belgium),
ICJ Reports 2002, 3, 25.
 human rights before the international court of justice597

that the Court would somehow improve the less than human rights-
friendly position it had taken in the Yerodia Case by using the oppor-
tunity to do so presented by the case of Republic of Congo v. France
brought in 2002,56 it was to be disappointed because this Application
was withdrawn in late 2010.57 It had its origin in judicial proceedings
initiated in France against the President, the Minister of the Interior
and the Inspector-General of the armed forces of Congo (Brazzaville)
based on accusations of the commission of crimes against humanity
and acts of torture under the responsibility of these persons during an
internal conflict in their country. The Republic of the Congo regarded
the action of the French judiciary as violating the immunity from for-
eign criminal proceedings owed to these high-ranking officials and
took the case to The Hague, without bothering much about the niceties
of jurisdiction. Remarkably, however, France accepted the jurisdiction
of the Court as a forum prorogatum under Art. 38 (5) of the ICJ Statute.
Thus the stage was set for what might have become a reconsideration of
Arrest Warrant, above all a new opportunity for the Court to clarify the
purport of the principle of universal jurisdiction in criminal matters, a
task it had preferred not to take on ten years earlier. It was not to be.
This leaves us with the case of Germany v. Italy brought in late 2008,58
in which Germany asks the Court to determine that Italy is responsible
for breach of its international obligation to respect Germany’s jurisdic-
tional immunity for sovereign acts, originating from a judgment by
Italy’s Corte di Cassazione denying such immunity, the factual origins
of which lie in war crimes and crimes against humanity perpetrated by
the Third Reich’s armed forces and authorities during World War II
against victims of both Italian and Greek nationality. In its
Countermemorial of 22 December 2009, Italy raised counterclaims by
which it attempted to raise the human rights “weight” of the case and
put the blame in this regard on the Applicant, but this strategy failed
when the Court unanimously rejected this procedural move in July
2010.59 In January 2011, Greece filed an application for permission to

56
Application instituting Proceedings in the Case Certain Criminal Proceedings in
France (Republic of the Congo v. France), 9 December 2002, available at http://www
.icj-cij.org/docket/files/129/7067.pdf.
57
Cf. the removal of the case from the Court’s list by Order of 16 November 2010,
available at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/129/16266.pdf.
58
Application instituting Proceedings in the Case Jurisdictional Immunities of the
State (Germany v. Italy), 23 December 2008, available at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/
files/143/14923.pdf.
59
 Id., Order of 6 July 2010 (“Counterclaim”), available at, http://www.icj-cij.org/
docket/files/143/16027.pdf.
598 bruno simma

intervene in the case.60 In view of the sensitivity of this lis pendens,

I will refrain from commenting on the case, except by saying that this
time the Court will not escape the extremely difficult task of reconcil-
ing the imperatives of the “new” international law (of human rights),
elevated by its quality as jus cogens, and the exhortation not to de-sta-
bilize time-honoured rules protecting the sovereignty of States in their
mutual interest.

II. Prospects for the Future

In the light of the recent patterns of State and judicial practice thus
described, is there something we can safely predict about the future
“chances” of human rights in the ICJ? We can be certain of one thing:
the human rights genie has escaped from the bottle. Since human rights
considerations permeate more and more into areas of international
law, even of the traditional, inter-State, kind, issues of, and related to,
human rights will necessarily present themselves also to the Court with
increasing frequency. This has become apparent in the marked increase
of relevant cases in the last few years.
In contentious proceedings, human rights-related arguments will
also continue to be made beside–or even against–more traditional,
inter-State, ways of pleading. If there ever was a certain hesitancy on
the part of the Court to tackle the human rights aspect of a case where
this could be avoided, this tendency will grow weaker, if it has not dis-
appeared already. It is to be expected that from time to time straight-
forward human rights cases, that is, claims of violations of such rights,
will reach the Court, as they have done already. I would also assume
that the Court will be prepared to deal fully with human rights argu-
ments in particularly supportive ways when such arguments are in line
with, or corroborate, or strengthen more traditional ways of interna-
tional law reasoning; I consider Congo v. Uganda and the Wall Opinion
as precedents in point. Further, applications for Provisional Measures
will also increasingly be supported by considerations of human rights.
As a consequence, the question how the Court will deal with the juris-
prudence of specialized human rights courts and treaty bodies will
arise with greater frequency–I have already mentioned that in this
regard the Diallo Judgment is a good example to follow.

60
Jurisdictional Immunities of the State (Germany v. Italy) Application for Permis-
sion to Intervene submitted by the Government of the Hellenic Republic, 13 January
2011, available at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/143/16304.pdf.
 human rights before the international court of justice599

In advisory proceedings, the role played by human rights will of

course also depend on the nature of the questions put to the Court.
If they appear pertinent, my expectation is that the Court will not hesi-
tate to treat them exhaustively, because here traditional inter-state
“reflexes”, jurisdictional straitjackets and procedural hurdles are much
less pronounced and the Court is not confined to the submissions of
the States participating in the proceedings as in contentious cases. It is
not surprising, therefore, that in the past some of the Court’s most
marked contributions to international human rights have been made
through advisory opinions.
Thus far a modest prognosis of things to come. It is essentially
quantitative; we are on safe ground in predicting that in the future the
Court will have even more occasions to develop its human rights juris-
prudence than it has had so far. The Court has been increasingly
supportive of human rights claims and it has demonstrated that it
can handle human rights in a way considered respectable also by the
“droits de l’hommistes”. In this regard, it has caught up with the existing
human rights courts. This leads me to a normative-qualitative assess-
ment: is there something the ICJ could do in the field that the special-
ized courts cannot do, or that the Hague Court might be able to do
better? This is the question I will pursue in the third and last part of my
contribution.

C. A Proper Role for the Court

Let me start with a word of caution. Human rights are, and will remain,
a field in which the Court ought to tread with the utmost care. This
admonition is appropriate for at least two reasons. The first is to be seen
in the great advances of international human rights law brought about
by the regional human rights courts, and to a certain degree also by the
non-judicial institutions of the UN human rights–particularly treaty–
system. These actors have developed doctrines and rules custom-made
for human rights, for instance, with regard to the interpretation of
human rights treaties and other questions of treaty law,61 which may go
too far to more conservative circles of the legal mainstream. This acquis
must not be levelled by the participation in the discourse of a generalist

61
Cf. the comprehensive study by F. Vanneste, General International law Before
Human Rights Courts (2010).
600 bruno simma

court like the ICJ. I would submit that the way in which the ICJ engaged
in an exercise of dynamic, or evolutionary, treaty interpretation in its
recent Judgment on Navigational and Related Rights on the San Juan
River between Costa Rica and Nicaragua62 bodes well in this regard
and may indicate the willingness of the Court to test the application of
progressive traits originally developed in specialized human rights
jurisprudence to other branches of international law.
The second reason the ICJ ought to be careful about its role in the
human rights field lies in the socio-political basis of the Court in the
international community of States which it is to serve. In a certain
sense, the ICJ is the permanent international court which still resem-
bles most closely a system of dispute settlement by voluntary arbitra-
tion from the viewpoint of the freedom of States to have recourse to it:
its contentious jurisdiction is still strictly consensual, and, compared
with the working of more recently created judicial bodies especially
at the regional level, the functioning of the Hague Court shows a dis-
tinctly more pronounced respect for the sovereignty of its users
throughout. Thus, could we rule out that at least a part of its cli
entele might be somewhat less than enthusiastic if the ICJ assumed–
more pronounced–features of a human rights court? Could the
consequence be a loss of popularity with some of its best customers?
Speaking frankly, most States, that is, not only the usual suspects in the
eyes of Western observers, all too often behave like foxes guarding the
well-being of chickens in human rights matters and are thus rather reti-
cent towards the idea of truly effective international third-party adjudi-
cation of their problems in this field. After 25 years of experience in the
international human rights machinery, I am still not convinced that
“Wasch mir den Pelz, aber mach mich nicht nass”63 is entirely off the
mark as a description of the hypocrisy that comes with it. International
human rights are a permanent nuisance, and very often a threat, to the
holders of political power. If the Court, to the compulsory jurisdiction
of which States might have consented with the expectation that what
they could possibly get involved in would be inter-State litigation of the
traditional type, began broadly to accept, to give just one example,

62
Case concerning the Dispute regarding Navigational and Related Rights (Costa Rica
v. Nicaragua), Judgment of 13 July 2009, paras. 63–66, available at http://www.icj-cij
.org/docket/files/133/15321.pdf.
63
“Wash my fur, but don’t make me wet!” I hope that this translation can convey
what I want to say.
 human rights before the international court of justice601

applications or interventions by States “other than injured States” in the

sense of the ILC’s Draft Articles on international responsibility,64 this
may come as a rather unpleasant surprise to many of its clients, not all
of which count among the most human rights-respecting countries.
After all, the development of international human rights will not infre-
quently upset sovereignty-based rules of international law with which
most States will have been, and still are, quite comfortable.
What, then, is a proper role for the Court?
In my view, the most valuable contribution the ICJ can make to
the international protection of human rights–a role for which it is par-
ticularly well equipped and has almost no competition–consists of
what could be called the juridical “mainstreaming” of human rights, in
the sense of integrating this branch of the law into the fabric of both
general international law and its various other branches.65 By way of
exemplifying what the Court can do, and is already doing, to fulfill that
task, it can render human rights arguments more readily acceptable to
international law generalists by interpreting and applying substantive
provisions of human rights treaties in a state-of-the-art way, compared,
for instance, to the reading given to such provisions by certain General
Comments issued by UN human rights treaty bodies, all too often
marked by a dearth of proper legal analysis compensated for by an
overdose of wishful thinking. Further, the Court is singularly capable
of devising solutions for practical, more technical, legal problems
which arise at the interface between human rights and more traditional
international law, thus paving the way for the acceptance of human
rights arguments and, more generally, supporting and developing the
framework of human rights protection.
The Court has already made considerable contributions in this
regard, albeit with varying degrees of success or “constructiveness”,
depending on the viewpoint of the (either human rights-minded or
“statist”) observer. Let me mention the following issues with regard to
which the Court has already engaged in what I have just called
“mainstreaming”:
(1) As I have indicated above, in its recent case law the Court has clar-
ified the nature of obligations flowing from human rights treaties,

64
Cf. Simma (note 36), at 367–373.
65
Cf. Vinuales (note 4) regarding an analoguous role of the Court in the field of
international environmental law.
602 bruno simma

in the sense that these obligations create correlative rights not only
for individuals but also for the other States parties to the treaties,
which these parties may enforce or vindicate in judicial proceed-
ings.66
(2) The Court has made decisive contributions to the development of
the law on reservations to human rights treaties and several other
questions of the law of treaties applying particularly to such instru-
ments.67
(3) In concert with the jurisprudence of regional human rights courts
and UN human rights treaty bodies, the ICJ has clarified the terri-
torial scope of human rights treaty obligations.68
(4) The Court has contributed to the development of the doctrine of
positive obligations in the area of human rights by giving contours
to obligations of prevention.69
(5) In several decisions, it has dealt with the question of attribution to
a State of human rights violations by non-State actors.70
(6) The Court has clarified the relationship between human rights law
and international humanitarian law.71
(7) In its very recent case law, it has dealt with the relationship between
treaty-based implementation procedures provided for in human
rights conventions and its own jurisdiction.72
(8) Following a–rather unpromising73–start with regard to the setting
of priorities between human rights considerations/obligations and

66
Cf. my preceding remarks on the LaGrand (note 24), Avena (note 24), Application
of the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination
(note 31), Questions relating to the Obligation to Prosecute or Extradite (note 52) and
Ahmadou Sadio Diallo (note 24) cases.
67
Cf. my remarks on the Court’s Advisory Opinions on Reservations to the Genocide
Convention (note 11) and the Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the
Occupied Palestinian Territory (note 22) as well as on its Judgments in the Armed
Activities on the territory of the Congo Case (note 30) and Application of the Convention
on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (note 44) cases.
68
Cf. the Wall Opinion (note 22), at paras. 104–113, and the Order of 15 October
2008 on Provisional Measures in the Georgia v. Russia Case, available at http://
www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/140/14801.pdf. For a comprehensive treatment see M.
Milanovic, Extraterritorial Application of Human Rights Treaties: Law, Principles and
Policy (2011).
69
Particularly in its Application of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment
of the Crime of Genocide Judgment of 2007 (note 44), at paras. 428–432.
70
Cf. id. and Armed Activities on the Territory of the Congo (note 37).
71
Cf. Nuclear Weapons (note 38), paras. 24–25; Wall (note 22), at paras. 104–106.
72
Cf. the Order on Provisional Measures of 15 October 2008 in Georgia v. Russia
(note 68) and the forthcoming Judgment on Preliminary Objections in the same case.
73
Arrest Warrant (note 57).
 human rights before the international court of justice603

other rules of international law, particularly State immunity, the

Court is currently facing a new chance to develop its case law on
this matter.74
    (9) It has already adapted rules on State responsibility for interna-
tionally wrongful acts to the special situation of human rights
violations.75
(10) Finally, and more generally, the Court has accepted and devel-
oped what I would call international legal vehicles which were
then put to use to give human rights obligations even greater legal
authority; in the first instance the category of jus cogens, and doc-
trinally connected to such higher law that of obligations erga
omnes.76
Thus, if we wanted to find a short-term description for our topic of the
International Court of Justice and human rights, we could call it an
instance of international legal discourse in which old international law
(represented for our purpose by the Court) encounters the new. What
we can observe already is that the Court has become a major player in
a process in which human rights and general international law mutu-
ally impact upon one another: human rights “modernize” international
law, while international law “mainstreams”, or “domesticates” human
rights.

74
 In the Germany v. Italy Case, with Greece requesting to intervene (note 60).
75
Above all, concerning responsibility for the breach of negative obligations and
such responsibility in case of violation of positive obligations, particularly obligations
of prevention, in the Genocide Judgment of 2007 (note 44); concerning reparation for
the non-prevention of genocide in the same case, and most recently concerning repa-
ration for human rights violations for the benefit of the individual victims in Ahmadou
Sadio Diallo (note 24).
76
As regards the Court’s specific contribution to the development of these two cat-
egories, while the promotion of obligations erga omnes can be clearly attributed to its
jurisprudence, the Court has for an embarrassingly long time been hesitant to pay
more than lip-service to jus cogens; cf. the Separate Opinion of Judge ad hoc John
Dugard in the Congo v. Rwanda Case (note 30), at 86.
 Rassismusbekämpfung im Europäischen
Rechtsraum: Neue Impulse durch den Europäischen
Gerichtshof für Menschenrechte

Daniel Thürer & Nina Burri

“Si tu diffères de moi, loin de me léser, tu m’enrichis.”

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry1
“Celui qui est sans puissance peut égaler celui qui est très puissant au
moyen de la justice, comme au moyen d’une autorité royale.”
Simone Weil2
“L’intérêt de puissance et de richesse d’une Nation doit disparaître
devant le droit d’un homme.”
Marie-Jena-Antoine-Nicolas de Caritat de Condorcet3

A. Überlegungen zur Ausgangslage

Die Menschheit besteht weltweit aus einer Vielfalt von Völkern,

ethnischen und kulturellen Gruppen von Menschen und anderen
Gruppierungen. Kollektive, wie immer sie geartet sind, haben ihre
eigenen Traditionen und Selbstverständnisse. Vielfalt von Identitäten
bedeutet, wenn sie gehegt und gepflegt werden und auf der Basis der
Partnerschaft zusammenleben, kulturellen Reichtum und Potenzial für
geistiges Wachstum. Das wird von Menschenrechtlern, deren Denken
oft von abstrakt-schematischen, individualistischen Vorstellungen und
nicht so sehr von der Anschauung konkreter Wirklichkeit geleitet wird,
zu wenig wahrgenommen. Auch und gerade Europa lebt von einer
bunten Vielfalt von Lebenswerten und Lebenswelten. Pluralismus der
Lebensformen, Sprachen, Religionen und Empfindsamkeiten, also
Multikulturalität ist Lebenselement der europäischen Bevölkerungen
vom Hohen Norden bis zum Mittelmeer und vom Atlantik bis ins tiefe

1
A. de Saint-Exupéry, Citadelle, 329 (1948).
2
S. Weil, L’enraciment: prélude à une déclaration des devoirs envers l’être humain,
256 (1950).
3
Zitiert in D. Thürer/B. Dold, Rassismus und Rule of Law – Erstmalige Verurtei-
lung wegen Rassendiskriminierung durch den Europäischen Gerichtshof für Men-
schenrechte, 32 Europäische Grundrechte-Zeitschrift (EuGRZ) 1 (2005).
606 daniel thürer & nina burri

Russland. Vielfalt birgt aber auch Gefahren in sich. Seit jeher hatten
Menschen Angst vor dem Anderen, dem Unbekannten. „La diffé­
rence fait peur; or cette peur suscite l’aggressivité“, notierte Albert
Memmi.4 Und Heterophobie kann die Vorstufe von Rassismus sein.
Rassismus ist ein pseudowis­senschaftlich begründetes Phänomen. Er
beruht auf einer simplen Kategorisierung von Menschen nach äuße-
ren, biologischen Merkmalen, wobei den sog. Rassen verschiedene
Charaktereigenschaften zugeschrieben werden. Eine solche biologisch-
psychische Kausalität ist falsch und stoßend.5 Das ist – ungewöhnlich
in Form und Ton – im internationalen Übereinkommen zur Beseitigung
jeder Form von Rassendiskriminierung niedergeschrieben, welches
besagt, „dass jede Lehre von einer auf Rassenunterschiede gegründeten
Überlegenheit wissenschaftlich falsch, moralisch verwerflich sowie
sozial ungerecht und gefährlich ist und dass eine Rassendiskriminierung,
gleichviel ob in Theorie oder Praxis, nirgends gerechtfertigt ist.“6
Stoßend ist,
– dass, als Ausfluss solcher Voreingenommenheit, wirkliche oder fik-
tive Unterschiede generalisiert werden: die Juden, die Moslems, die
Schwarzen, die (vom „Weißen Mann“ so bezeichneten) „Rothäute“,
die Araber, die Asiaten, etc. werden als geschlossene Kategorien von
Menschen verstanden;
– dass Angehörige der anderen Rasse in dieser Ideologie als minder-
wertig, die der eigenen als überlegen bezeichnet werden;
– dass Hass der anderen Rasse gegenüber verbreitet wird;
– dass der Rassenhass von politischen und gesellschaftlichen Führern
instrumentalisiert wird, um die Anderen, nur weil sie einer bestimm-
ten „Rasse“ angehören, zu stigmatisieren, herabzuwürdigen, zu
marginalisieren, zu segregieren, auszuschließen, zu verfolgen, zu
deportieren, ja in letzter Konsequenz sogar zu eliminieren, dies um
die Macht der dominierenden Kräfte in Staat und Gesellschaft mit-
tels Repression, Ausbeutung und anderen Formen der Herrschaft zu
stabilisieren oder auszudehnen.

4
A. Memmi, Le racisme, 13 (1994).
5
Zum Ganzen und mit weiteren Hinweisen D. Thürer/B. Dold (Fn. 3) und
D. Thürer/B. Dold, Keine Beweislastumkehr in Bezug auf Rassismusvorwürfe vor
der Großen Kammer des EGMR im Fall Nachova u.a. gegen Bulgarien, 32 EuGRZ 693
(2005).
6
 Präambel, Abs. 7 des Internationalen Übereinkommens zur Beseitigung jeder
Form der Rassendiskriminierung, verabschiedet durch die UNO-Generalversamm-
lung am 7. März 1966, 660 UNTS 195.
 rassismusbekämpfung im europäischen rechtsraum607

Rassismus hat in der Geschichte unter den Völkern großes Unheil

angerichtet. Zurzeit befindet er sich weltweit und in Europa aktuell
und latent im Aufwind; Migranten, Asylsuchende, Flüchtlinge und
ethnische Minderheiten wie die Roma sind im heutigen Alltag seine
hauptsächlichen Opfer. Rassismus verstößt als solcher gegen elemen-
tare Gebote der Gerechtigkeit. Der spezifische Unrechtsgehalt der
rassistisch motivierten Diskriminierung liegt darin, dass „an ein
Unterscheidungsmerkmal angeknüpft [wird], das einen wesentlichen
und nicht aufgebbaren Bestandteil der Identität der betreffenden
Person ausmacht“7, und dass aus Merkmalen, die ein Mensch als
Angehöriger einer Gruppe von Geburt an besitzt und die er nicht
verändern kann, kategorisch und automatisch herabwürdigende
Folgerungen gezogen werden.8
Europäische Institutionen haben, Lehren aus dem Zweiten Weltkrieg
ziehend, Mechanismen geschaffen, um der Gefahr des Rassismus zu
begegnen. Dies geschah, neben der Europäischen Union und der
OSZE, vor allem im Rahmen des Europarates, zu dessen Zielen
Rechtsstaatlichkeit, Menschenrechte und Demokratie gehören.
Leadership kommt dabei der Europäischen Kommission gegen
Rassismus und Intoleranz (EKRI) zu. Die EKRI wurde 1993 an der ers-
ten Konferenz der Staats- und Regierungschefs des Europarats in Wien
ins Leben gerufen, am zweiten Gipfeltreffen 1997 in Straßburg gefestigt
und 2002 vom Ministerkomitee des Europarates mit einem eigenen
Statut versehen. Die Kommission hat den Auftrag, in den heute 47
Mitgliedstaaten des Europarates Rassismus, Fremdenfeindlichkeit,
Antisemitismus und Intoleranz zu bekämpfen. Ihre Aktionen erstre-
cken sich auf Maßnahmen, die nötig sind, um Gewalt, Diskriminierung
und Vorurteile gegen Personen und Personengruppen auf Grund von
Rasse, Hautfarbe, Sprache, Religion, Nationalität oder nationalem oder
ethnischem Ursprung zu bekämpfen.9 Die EKRI verfasst Berichte und
Empfehlungen zu „general themes“, erarbeitet „country reports“ und
arbeitet mit der „civil society“ zusammen. Sie ist in ihrer Wirkungsweise
unter menschenrechtlichen „monitoring bodies“ weltweit einmalig und

7
Entscheid des Schweizerischen Bundesgerichts vom 11. September 2000, BGE 126
II 377, Erw. 6a.
8
Zum Ganzen etwa J. P. Müller, Grundrechte in der Schweiz – Im Rahmen der
Bundesverfassung von 1999, der UNO-Pakte und der EMRK, 420 (1999).
9
L. Hollo, The European Commission against Racism and Intolerance (ECRI) – Its
first 15 years, 9 (2009).
608 daniel thürer & nina burri

steht in der öffentlichen Wahrnehmung viel zu sehr im Schatten ande-

rer, einfacher strukturierter, nach vertrauteren Modellen konzipierter
Mechanismen.
Die Idee „Europa“ ist gekennzeichnet durch die Werte der Vielfalt,
verbunden mit dem Respekt für gleiche Rechte. Die europäischen
Institutionen sind in ihrer Funktionsweise netzförmig untereinan-
der und mit den Staaten verknüpft.10 Es ist insofern nicht mehr als
folgerichtig, dass sich Seite an Seite mit der EKRI als der spezifi-
schen Hüterin des Gedankens des Antirassismus auf der Basis des
Diskriminierungsverbots auch der Europäische Gerichtshof für
Menschenrechte (EGMR) Schritt für Schritt in die Bekämpfung des
Rassismus eingeschaltet hat. Beide Institutionen weisen Gemein­
samkeiten auf: Sie sind aus unabhängigen, unparteiisch agierenden
Persönlichkeiten (Experten, Richtern) zusammengesetzt und sind
allein dem ihnen je anvertrauten Mandat des Menschenrechtsschutzes
verpflichtet. Sie weisen aber auch Unterschiede auf: Der Straßburger
Gerichtshof stützt seine Rechtsprechung auf ein völkerrechtliches
Vertragswerk (die Europäische Menschenrechtskonvention einschließ-
lich Zusatzprotokolle), während die EKRI eine policy-gebundene, nicht
konventionsgestützte, flexible, aber dennoch methodisch systemati-
sierte Praxis entwickelt; der Gerichtshof wird auf Beschwerden von
Einzelnen hin nach eigentlich juristischen Methoden der Auslegung
und Anwendung von geltendem Recht tätig, wogegen die EKRI auf
eigenen Anstoß mit einer Vielfalt von Akteuren in Kontakt tritt und
mit den Mitteln des Dialogs, der Überzeugung oder des „naming and
shaming“ und mit Empfehlungen arbeitet; der Gerichtshof hat die
Befugnis, verbindliche Urteile zu erlassen (auch wenn er zur Umsetzung
auf die Mitwirkung der Konventionsstaaten angewiesen ist), während
die EKRI Wirksamkeit gegenüber den Adressaten ihrer Empfehlungen
und in der Öffentlichkeit mit politisch-psychologischen Mitteln zu
erzielen sucht. Nachfolgend soll, obgleich die Rassismuskommission
mit ihrem vielgestaltigen Instrumentarium von Initiative und
Kontrolle, Dialog und Empfehlung den eigentlichen politischen
Verantwortungsträger des Europarates bei der Bekämpfung des
Rassismus darstellt, der Blick auf die sich neu entwickelnde Praxis des

10
Vgl. D. Thürer, L’Europe, une expérience – l’ECRI, une illustration, in: M. P. Moor
(Hrsg.), Théorie du droit, Droit administratif, Organisation du territoire, 543 (2005);
D. Thürer, Grundrechtsschutz in Europa – Globale Perspektive, 124 Zeitschrift für
Schweizerisches Recht 51 (2005).
 rassismusbekämpfung im europäischen rechtsraum609

Europäischen Gerichtshofs für Menschenrechte gelegt werden. Beide

Organe unterstützen sich gegenseitig. Wir versuchen auf den nachfol-
genden Seiten die jüngsten Errungenschaften des Gerichtshofes auf
dem Gebiet des Verbotes der Rassendiskriminierung aufzuarbeiten
und ihnen Gestalt zu geben; sie wurden bisher soweit ersichtlich noch
nicht systematisch dargestellt.
Kaum ein anderer Wissenschaftler ist mit Fragen der völker­
rechtlichen Bekämpfung der Diskriminierung in Theorie und Praxis so
sehr vertraut wie Rüdiger Wolfrum.11 Ihm sei denn auch diese Arbeit
gewidmet.

B. Rechtsprechung des Europäischen Gerichtshofes

für Menschenrechte

I. Das EMRK-Verbot der Rassendiskriminierung als Rechtsbasis

Am 26. Februar 2004 – vor über sieben Jahren – verurteilte der
Europäische Gerichtshof für Menschenrechte in Straßburg zum ersten
Mal einen Konventionsstaat wegen einer Verletzung des in Art. 14 der
Europäischen Konvention zum Schutze der Menschenrechte und
Grundfreiheiten vom 4. November 1950 (EMRK) enthaltenen Verbots
der Rassendiskriminierung.12 Der späte Zeitpunkt dieses Leitentscheides
erstaunt angesichts des schon seit beträchtlicher Zeit bestehenden völ-
kerrechtlichen Verbots der Rassendiskriminierung.
Der Beitrag des Europäischen Gerichtshofes für Menschenrechte zur
Bekämpfung des Rassismus beruht, ähnlich demjenigen des Supreme
Court der Vereinigten Staaten, letztlich auf dem Diskriminierungsverbot
und dem Gleichheitssatz.
Art. 14 EMRK (Diskriminierungsverbot) besagt:
„Der Genuss der in dieser Konvention anerkannten Rechte und
Freiheiten ist ohne Diskriminierung insbesondere wegen des
Geschlechts, der Rasse, der Hautfarbe, der Sprache, der Religion, der
politischen oder sonstigen Anschauung, der nationalen oder sozialen
Herkunft, der Zugehörigkeit zu einer nationalen Minderheit, des
Vermögens, der Geburt oder eines sonstigen Status zu gewährleisten.“

11
R. Wolfrum (Hrsg.), Gleichheit und Nichtdiskriminierung im nationalen und
internationalen Menschenrechtsschutz, Beiträge zum ausländischen öffentlichen
Recht und Völkerrecht, Band 165 (2003).
12
EGMR, Nachova u.a. v. Bulgarien (Nachova I), Urteil vom 26. Februar 2004, Appl.
No. 43577/98.
610 daniel thürer & nina burri

Diese Bestimmung stützt sich, wie entsprechende Normen in inter-

nationalen und nationalen Instrumenten, auf das Gefüge klassischer
Werte, in die rechtliche Maßnahmen zur Bekämpfung des Rassismus
einzubetten sind: das Verbot ungleicher Behandlung von Menschen
allein wegen ihrer Zugehörigkeit zu einer bestimmten „Ethnie“ in
Verbindung mit dem Schutz von Grundfreiheiten, die allen Menschen
als Menschen zukommen und deren Verletzung eine Herabwürdigung
ihrer Person darstellt.13
Dogmatisch wichtig ist es, daran zu erinnern, dass Art. 14 EMRK
keinen selbständigen Rechtsanspruch begründet. Das Diskriminie­
rungsverbot kann nur zusammen mit anderen Konventionsrechten
angerufen werden.14 Es schützt nur die diskriminierungsfreie Ausübung
der materiellen Konventionsrechte, hat insofern also einen akzessori-
schen Charakter. Die Garantie des Art. 14 besitzt aber in dem Sinne
eine autonome Natur15, als sie bereits verletzt sein kann, wenn das in
Frage stehende Konventionsrecht nur tangiert, aber nicht verletzt
wurde;16 nötig und zugleich ausreichend ist es, dass der relevante
Sachverhalt in den Schutzbereich („within the ambit“17) des betreffen-
den Rechts fällt. Ob dies der Fall ist, muss im Einzelfall aufgrund der
Art und des Ausmaßes der in Frage stehenden Rechte bestimmt wer-
den. Die Diskriminierung muss personenbezogen sein, d.h. beim
Status des betroffenen Individuums ansetzen: Im Falle der
Rassendiskriminierung muss sie somit auf der ethnischen Herkunft
der Person beruhen.18 Da eine absolute Gleichbehandlung utopisch ist,

13
Vgl. T. Buergenthal/D. Thürer, Menschenrechte – Ideale, Instrumente, Institutio-
nen, 1, 187 (2010).
14
Der EGMR meint dazu „Article 14 … plays an important role by complementing
the other provisions of the Convention and its Protocols“; siehe EGMR, Oršuš u.a. v.
Kroatien (Oršuš II), Große Kammer, Urteil vom 16. März 2010, Appl. No. 15766/03,
Rn. 144.
15
Vgl. J. A. Frowein/W. Peukert, Europäische Menschenrechtskonvention, EMRK-
Kommentar, Art. 14 Rn. 2 (3. Aufl. 2009), zur diesbezüglichen Änderung der
Auslegungspraxis durch die Europäische Kommission für Menschenrechte und
der endgültigen Klarstellung durch den Gerichtshof im Belgischen Sprachenfall,
EGMR, Case Relating to Certain Aspects of the Laws on the Use of Languages in Educa-
tion in Belgium, Urteil vom 23. Juli 1968, Appl. Nos. 1474/62; 1677/62; 1691/62;
1769/63; 1994/63; 2126/64, Ser. A, Nr. 6.
16
Erstmals von der Europäischen Kommission für Menschenrechte festgestellt in
Appl. No. 2299/64, Yb 10, 626, 680; bestätigt im Belgischen Sprachenfall (Fn. 15).
17
Ausführlich dazu A. Baker, The Enjoyment of Rights and Freedoms: A New Con-
ception of the ‘Ambit’ under Article 14 ECHR, 69/5 The Modern Law Review 714
(2006).
18
M. E. Villiger, Handbuch zur Europäischen Menschenrechtskonvention (EMRK),
432, Rn. 659 (1999).
 rassismusbekämpfung im europäischen rechtsraum611

kommt den Vertragsstaaten bei der Bewertung vergleichbarer Sach­

verhalte ein Ermessensspielraum zu. Dabei ist der Schweregrad einer
Rechtsverletzung zu gewichten, wobei das „aktuelle gesellschaftliche
und rechtliche Umfeld“19 zu berücksichtigen ist. Eine unterschiedliche
Behandlung muss nicht als solche auch diskriminierend sein. Der
Vertragsstaat kann sie durch die üblichen Rechtfertigungsgründe von
Grundrechtseingriffen – sachliche und vernünftige Gründe20, öffentli-
ches Interesse und Verhältnismäßigkeit – rechtfertigen.21
Eine wissenschaftliche Analyse und dogmatische Einordnung der
einzelnen Fälle ist oft komplex und schwierig, da jeder Fall an sei-
nen konkreten Umständen gemessen werden muss und sich nur
beschränkt Konstanten bestimmen lassen. Immerhin werfen gerade
Situationen der Rassendiskriminierung spezifische Probleme auf, zu
deren Lösung eine Justizinstanz wie der Europäische Gerichtshof für
Menschenrechte in besonderem Maße berufen erscheint. So ist
diesen Fällen naturgemäß immanent, dass eine schwache, womög-
lich verfemte oder verfolgte Person einer starken Institution gegen-
übersteht, die mit überlegenen Ressourcen und schlagkräftigen
Instrumenten der Auseinandersetzung ausgestattet ist; vor dem
Richter aber sollen die Parteien – ob stark oder schwach – gleichgestellt
sein, und das Prozessrecht hat die Aufgabe, mit geeigneten
Instrumenten für ausgewogene Verfahren zu sorgen. Der Europäische
Gerichtshof für Menschenrechte verfügt insofern über ein besonderes
Potential der Gestaltung, als er die EMRK ganz allgemein als „living
organism“22 versteht und es in der Hand hat, auf prozessualem Weg das
Diskriminierungsverbot auf immer engere Weise mit den substanziel-
len Menschenrechtsgarantien zu verknüpfen.
Zusätzlich zu Art. 14 EMRK schützt neu auch das 12. Zusatzprotokoll
(ZP) zur EMRK23 vor Diskriminierungen. Es ist in seiner Formulierung

19
EGMR, Muñoz Díaz v. Spanien, Urteil vom 8. Dezember 2009, Appl. No. 49151/07,
Rn. 48; M. E. Villiger (Fn. 18), 434, Rn. 662.
20
„Objective and reasonable justification“, EGMR, Belgischer Sprachenfall (Fn. 15),
Rn. 7; eine Behandlung kann auch einfach nicht ungleich sein, wie in EGMR, Protopapa
v. Türkei, Urteil vom 24. Februar 2009, Appl. No. 16084/90.
21
 Insgesamt zur Rechtfertigung der ungleichen Behandlung siehe EGMR, Muñoz
Díaz v. Spanien (Fn. 19), Rn. 47.
22
EKMR, Tyrer v. Vereinigtes Königreich, Urteil vom 25. April 1978, Series A No. 26,
Appl. No. 5856/72, Rn. 3a.
23
 Protokoll Nr. 12 zur Konvention zum Schutz der Menschenrechte und Grundfrei-
heiten vom 4. November 2000 ist am 1. April 2005 nach 10 Ratifikationen in Kraft
getreten. Bis im Dezember 2010 hatten 18 Staaten das Protokoll ratifiziert.
612 daniel thürer & nina burri

Art. 14 EMRK sehr ähnlich, gewährt aber einen selbständigen

Rechtsanspruch.

II. Stufen der Rechtsprechung

Der Europäische Gerichtshof für Menschenrechte hat in jüngster
Zeit seine Tür für Fälle der Rassendiskriminierung geöffnet und dabei
eine im Gesamtprogramm des Menschenrechtsschutzes besonders
relevante, fruchtbare, wohl noch nicht abgeschlossene Entwicklung
seiner Rechtsprechung eingeleitet. Es lassen sich, ausgehend vom
Leitfall Nachova u.a. v. Bulgarien24, drei Stufen der Konsolidierung
beobachten, die als solche bisher wohl noch nicht nachgezeichnet wur-
den. Es ist für Organe des menschenrechtlichen „Monitoring“ wie die
EKRI wichtig, solche Entwicklungen zur Kenntnis zu nehmen, so wie
es für den Gerichtshof unerlässlich ist, sich noch intensiver als bis
anhin mit Arbeiten von Institutionen wie EKRI, die breiter angelegt
sind und methodisch anders funktionieren, zu befassen.

1. Der Fall Nachova u.a. v. Bulgarien als Wendepunkt

Bis 2004 hatte der Gerichtshof noch nie eine Verletzung des
Rassendiskriminierungsverbots festgestellt. Dies wurde vielerseits
bemängelt.25 Im Februar 2004 war mit dem Fall Navocha u.a. v.
Bulgarien die Zeit für eine wegweisende Änderung der Rechtsprechung
gekommen.26 Es ging um folgenden Sachverhalt:
Zwei Roma wurden auf ihrer Flucht vor einer Festnahme von der
bulgarischen Militärpolizei erschossen. Beide Männer waren weder
bewaffnet, noch stellten sie sonst eine Gefahr für die Polizeibeamten
oder Dritte dar. Ein Nachbar sagte in der Untersuchung aus, dass der
leitende Beamte „Ihr verdammten Zigeuner“27 geschrien habe. Trotz
dieses Hinweises und anderer Ungereimtheiten in den Aussagen der
Militärpolizisten wurde die staatliche Untersuchung des Einsatzes

24
EGMR, Navocha I (Fn. 12).
25
So in vielen Reaktionen auf das Urteil EGMR, Chapman v. Vereinigtes Königreich,
Urteil vom 18. Januar 2001, Appl. No. 27238/95. In einem weiteren abweisenden Urteil
des Jahres 2002 fasste schließlich Judge Bonello in seiner Dissenting Opinion diesen
Unmut in Worte: Er finde es „particularly disturbing that the Court, in over fifty years
of pertinacious judicial scrutiny, has not, to date, found one single instance of violation
of the right [guaranteed by] Article 2 or … Article 3 induced by the race …“; EGMR,
Anguelova v. Bulgarien, Urteil vom 13. Juni 2002, Appl. No. 38361/97.
26
EGMR, Nachova I (Fn. 12).
27
 Id., Rn. 35.
 rassismusbekämpfung im europäischen rechtsraum613

e­ ingestellt, dies lediglich mit einem Hinweis auf die Rechtmäßigkeit

des Verfahrens.
Die Große Kammer des Gerichtshofs verurteilte Bulgarien als
­ersten Konventionsstaat zu einer Verletzung des Verbots der Rassen­
diskriminierung. Sie nahm erstmals eine getrennte Prüfung einer
prozessualen und einer materiellen Verletzung von Art. 14 EMRK vor.28
Materiell prüfte sie, ob eine direkte Diskriminierung durch die
Beamten vorgelegen hatte, und prozessual, ob eine genügende
Untersuchung dieser möglichen Diskriminierung stattgefunden hatte.
Im Gegensatz zur Vorinstanz sah die Große Kammer die Vorausset­
zungen für eine materielle Verletzung von Art. 14 in Verbindung mit
Art. 2 EMRK (Recht auf Leben) nicht als erfüllt an.29 Die Verletzung
des prozessualen Gehalts bejahte sie hingegen. Neu und wegwei-
send war die Feststellung einer Umkehr der Beweislast zu Lasten
von Bulgarien. Konkret hatten genügend Hinweise für die Annahme
einer rassistischen Motivierung des Verhaltens der Militärpolizei vor-
gelegen, die bulgarischen Behörden hatten diese aber nicht näher
untersucht.
Nachova u.a. v. Bulgarien kann als Wendepunkt in der Straßburger
Rechtsprechung bezeichnet werden. Doch war es bereits der
Durchbruch? In der Folge untersuchen wir, ob sich die bei Nachova
verwendeten Kriterien in der weiteren Rechtsprechung wiederfinden,
sich verändert haben oder ob gar neue hinzugekommen sind.

2. Urteile der ersten Generation: Präzisierung der Untersuchungspflicht

Nach Nachova gelangten etliche ähnlich gelagerte Fälle vor den
Europäischen Gerichtshof für Menschenrechte, welche ebenfalls die
Pflicht von Staaten zur Untersuchung von möglicherweise rassistisch
motivierten Gewalttaten betrafen.
Dabei ging es oft um gewalttätige Übergriffe der Polizei auf
inhaftierte Personen30, zumeist Roma, oder Fälle von Untersuchungen

28
Ganz im Sinne der Concurring Opinion von Judge Bonello in Nachova I
(Fn. 12).
29
EGMR, Große Kammer, Nachova u.a. v. Bulgarien (Nachova II), Urteil vom 6. Juli
2005, Appl. No. 43577/98.
30
EGMR, Stoica v. Rumänien, Urteil vom 4. März 2008, Appl. No. 42722/02;
EGMR, Affäre Turan Cakir v. Belgien, Urteil vom 10. März 2009, Appl. No. 44256/06;
EGMR, Cobzaru v. Rumänien, Urteil vom 26. Juli 2007, Appl. No. 48254/99 und
EGMR, Bekos und Koutropoulos v. Griechenland, Urteil vom 13. Dezember 2005, Appl.
No. 15250/02.
614 daniel thürer & nina burri

gewalttätiger Übergriffe durch Privatpersonen auf Roma.31 In den

meisten Fällen wurde eine Verletzung des prozessualen Aspekts eines
Konventionsrechts i.V.m. Art. 14 EMRK festgestellt.32 Mit zunehmen-
der Anzahl von Fällen ließen sich verschiedene Konstanten erkennen.
Diese fasste der Gerichtshof im Urteil Cobzaru zusammen und erstellte
das folgende Prüfungsschema für die Handhabung solcher Fälle33:
Erstens muss das Gericht prüfen, ob bei der Miss- (oder Schlechtbe-)
handlung Rassismus ein kausaler Faktor gewesen sein könnte. Wenn
dies zu bejahen ist, muss zweitens geprüft werden, ob der Staat seiner
Verpflichtung zur Untersuchung möglicher rassistischer Motive nach-
gekommen sei. Drittens wird untersucht, ob die Behörden während
der Untersuchung der rassistischen Motive den Beschwerdeführer wie-
derum diskriminiert haben, und, wenn dies so ist, ob viertens diese
Diskriminierung wiederum mit ethnischen Motiven begründet war.
Für die Auslösung einer Untersuchungspflicht – also Schritt 2 –
genügt es zunächst, dass ein rassistischer Verdacht den Behörden
zur Kenntnis gebracht wird.34 Ein Verdacht kann entstehen, wenn
eine nicht rassen-neutrale Situation vorliegt. Diese kann sich einerseits
durch ­ rassistische Aussagen von involvierten Personen oder auch
aufgrund der konkreten Gegebenheiten ergeben.35 Ein Beispiel:
Eine Person wird gefragt, ob sie „Zigeuner oder Rumäne“ sei; gleich-
zeitig sagt ein Beamter während desselben Einsatzes, es müsse den
Roma nun eine Lektion erteilt werden.36 Auch die Darstellung des
aktuellen gesellschaftlichen und rechtlichen Umfelds kann einen
Verdacht begründen.37 Dieses Umfeld kann z.B. anhand von Berichten

31
EGMR, Šečić v. Kroatien, Urteil vom 31. Mai 2007, Appl. No. 40116/02 und
EGMR, Angelova and Iliev v. Bulgarien, Urteil vom 26. Juli 2007, Appl. No. 55523/00,
Rn. 98.
32
Zur Übersicht der Rechtsprechung des EGMR zur Minderheit der Roma siehe
R. Sandland, Developing a Jurisprudence of Difference: The Protection of the
Human Rights of Travelling Peoples, by the European Court of Human Rights,
8/9 Human Rights Law Review 504 (2008).
33
EGMR, Cobzaru v. Rumänien, Urteil vom 26. Juli 2007, Appl. No. 48254/99,
Rn. 92.
34
EGMR, Sashov u.a. v. Bulgarien, Urteil vom 7. Januar 2010, Appl. No. 14383/03,
Rn. 83.
35
 Im Fall Šečić v. Kroatien wurde der Beschwerdeführer Opfer eines Angriffs
durch eine Skinhead-Gruppe. Die offenkundig extremistische und rassistische Ideolo-
gie dieser Gruppe genügte, um die Untersuchungspflicht von möglichen rassistischen
Motiven auszulösen; EGMR, Šečić v. Kroatien (Fn. 31), Rn. 68.
36
EGMR, Stoica v. Rumänien (Fn. 30), Rn. 128.
37
EGMR, Muñoz Díaz v. Spanien (Fn. 19), Rn. 48; M. E. Villiger (Fn. 18), 434,
Rn. 662.
 rassismusbekämpfung im europäischen rechtsraum615

internationaler Organisationen dargelegt werden.38 Der alleinige Bezug

auf die allgemein nicht zufriedenstellende Situation einer Minderheit
reicht dagegen nicht aus, um ein rassistisches Motiv einer einzelnen
Person zu begründen.39 Die Vorbringen der Beschwerdeführer über
konkrete rassistische Äußerungen der Behörden, kombiniert mit den
Berichten internationaler Organisationen über die diskriminierenden
Handlungen der (griechischen) Polizei gegenüber Roma und anderen
Minderheiten, genügten hingegen in einem anderen Fall.40 Eine ras-
sendiskriminierende Absicht muss aber genau nicht bewiesen werden.
Sobald der Beweis von Anzeichen einer rassistisch motivierten
Ungleichbehand­lung erbracht werden kann, ordnet das Gericht die
Umkehr der Beweislast zulasten des beklagten Staates an.41 Diese
Umkehr ergibt sich nicht aus dem Beweis an sich, sondern ist eine rein
prozessuale Maßnahme des Gerichts, welche dem bestehenden
Ungleichgewicht zwischen den Parteien entgegenwirken soll. Der
beklagte Staat muss in der Folge – Schritt 3 – die rassistischen Anzeichen
ernsthaft und engagiert untersuchen: „Where that attack is racially
motivated, it is particularly important that the investigation is pursued
with vigour and impartiality …”.42 Die Untersuchungspflicht des Staates
ist eine Obligation „de moyen et non de résultat absolu“.43 Eine
Voruntersuchung, die, wie im Fall Šečić v. Kroatien, sieben Jahre

38
Beispielsweise im Fall Sashov u.a. v. Bulgarien (Fn. 34), Rn. 75, wo Berichte von
der European Commission against Racism and Intolerance (ECRI) und der Internati-
onal Helsinki Federation for Human Rights, dem Open Society Institute und der
Romani Baht Foundation verwendet wurden.
39
Z.B. die Lage der Roma in Rumänien, siehe dazu EGMR, Cobzaru v. Rumänien
(Fn. 30), Rn. 95 ff. und EGMR, Moldovan u.a. v. Rumänien, Urteil vom 12. Juli 2005,
Appl. Nos. 41138/98 und 64320/01.
40
EGMR, Bekos und Koutropoulos v. Griechenland (Fn. 30), Rn. 73; ebenso EGMR,
Affäre Turan Cakir v. Belgien (Fn. 30), wo die Gemeindepolizei von Schaerbeek für
diskriminierende und gelegentlich gewalttätige Interventionen bekannt war. Diese Tat-
sache genügte für sich alleine zwar noch nicht um eine Untersuchungspflicht auszulö-
sen, zusammen mit den Rügen des Beschwerdeführers über rassistisches Verhalten der
Behörden jedoch schon.
41
Siehe für viele andere EGMR, Stoica v. Rumänien (Fn. 30), Rn. 126.
42
„Les autorités doivent prendre les mesures raisonnables, vu les circonstances,
pour recueillir et conserver les éléments de preuve, étudier l’ensemble des moyens
concrets de découvrir la vérité et rendre des décisions pleinement motivées, impartia-
les et objectives, sans omettre des faits douteux révélateurs d’un acte de violence motivé
par des considérations de race.“, vgl. EGMR, Affäre Turan Cakir v. Belgien (Fn. 30),
Rn. 77; wie auch in EGMR, Angelova and Iliev v. Bulgarien, Urteil vom 26. Juli 2007,
Appl. No. 55523/00, Rn. 98.
43
EGMR, Affäre Turan Cakir v. Belgien (Fn. 30), Rn. 77, und EGMR, Sashov u.a. v.
Bulgarien (Fn. 34), Rn. 78.
616 daniel thürer & nina burri

dauert, ohne dass die Behörden dabei jegliche ernsthaften Schritte zur
Identifikation der Angreifer unternommen haben, ist in diesem Lichte
inakzeptabel. Dies insbesondere bei Wissen darum, dass die Tat höchst
wahrscheinlich durch rassistischen Hass begründet war.44 Wenn eine
Untersuchung zwar erfolgt, diese aber aufgrund tendenziöser
Bemerkungen des Staatsanwaltes illusorisch erscheint und diese unge-
nügende Untersuchung wiederum auf der ethnischen Herkunft des
Opfers begründet ist, wird die Untersuchung als ungenügend bewer-
tet.45 Bleibt eine zufriedenstellende Erklärung seitens des Staates aus,
gelingt ihm der Befreiungsbeweis nicht. Aufgrund der Beweislastumkehr
bleibt die diskriminierende Vermutung bestehen und wird als eine
Verletzung von Art. 14 EMRK interpretiert.46

3. Urteile der zweiten Generation: Art. 14 EMRK breitet sich über die
Konvention aus
Neben der konstanten Weiterentwicklung von Fällen der staatli­
chen Untersuchungspflicht (erste Generation) kam es auch zu
Verurteilungen wegen Verletzungen diverser materieller Aspekte von
Konventionsrechten. Drei illustrative Fälle seien genannt.
a) Der Hădăreni-Pogrom47
Dem Gericht lag der folgende Sachverhalt vor:
Die Beschwerdeführer, 25 Rumänen und Angehörige der Roma-
Minderheit, wohnten und arbeiteten im rumänischen Dorf Hădăreni.

44
 In diesem Fall erachtete es der Gerichtshof nicht einmal für nötig, eine ausführli-
che Begründung zu erstellen. Auch wurde nicht dargelegt, wieso die Beweislast umge-
kehrt wurde, noch lieferte er eine Begründung dafür, wieso die Länge des Verfahrens
rassistisch motiviert hätte sein können. Die Verschleppung an sich genügte nicht den
Anforderungen an Untersuchungen von rassistischen Motiven, EGMR, Šečić v. Kroa-
tien (Fn. 31), Rn. 66–68.
45
Es gab jedoch durchaus nicht nur Verurteilungen in dieser Hinsicht: In EGMR,
Beganović v. Kroatien musste der Gerichthof anerkennen, dass die kroatischen Behör-
den alle möglichen Verdächtigen befragt und in keiner der Aussagen Hinweise auf eine
rassistische Motivation der Tat erhalten hatten. Auch hatte der Beschwerdeführer
selbst in seiner Aussage nicht auf seine ethnische Herkunft verwiesen. EGMR,
Beganović v. Kroatien, Urteil vom 25. Juni 2009, Appl. No. 46423/06, ebenso in EGMR,
Sashov u.a. v. Bulgarien (Fn. 34).
46
Etabliert und bestätigt in den Urteilen EGMR, Timishev v. Russland, Urteil
vom 13. Dezember 2005, Appl. Nos. 55762/00 und 55974/00, Rn. 56, und EGMR,
Moldovan u.a. v. Rumänien (Fn. 39), Rn. 140; siehe dazu auch EGMR, Stoica v. Rumä-
nien (Fn. 30), Rn. 126; EGMR, Nachova II (Fn. 29), Rn. 157, sowie EGMR, Bekos und
Koutropoulos v. Griechenland (Fn. 30), Rn. 65.
47
EGMR, Moldovan u.a. v. Rumänien (Fn. 39).
 rassismusbekämpfung im europäischen rechtsraum617

Im September 1993 kam es zu einer Auseinandersetzung zwischen drei

Roma und einem Nicht-Roma, welche mit dem Tod des Nicht-Roma
endete. Dieser Vorfall brachte die Dorfbevölkerung so stark in Aufruhr,
dass es zu einem Pogrom an der Roma-stämmigen Bevölkerung im
Ort kam. Die aufgebrachten Dorfbewohner, darunter auch Mitglieder
der lokalen Polizeikräfte, versammelten sich vor dem Haus, in wel-
chem sich die drei Roma versteckt hatten. Da sich die drei Flüchtigen
weigerten, das Haus zu verlassen, wurde es in Brand gesetzt. Bei der
Flucht vor dem Feuer wurden zwei der Roma von der Menge aufgehal-
ten und mit Holzstöcken und Knüppeln geschlagen. Sie starben
noch am selben Abend. Der dritte Roma blieb im Haus und starb im
Feuer. Innerhalb zweier Tage weiteten sich die Ausschreitungen der
Dorfbevölkerung so sehr aus, dass alle Häuser und der Besitz aller im
Ort lebenden Roma, einschließlich Stallungen, Fahrzeuge und Vorräte
verbrannten. Die Untersuchung ergab, dass die lokalen Polizeikräfte an
dem Pogrom teilgenommen und die aufgebrachte Menge sogar mehr-
fach zu Aktionen gegen die im Haus verbarrikadierten Männer aufge-
fordert hatten: „Set them on fire, because we cannot do anything to
them“.48
Achtzehn der Beschwerdeführer einigten sich mit der rumäni-
schen Regierung auf einen Vergleich. Sieben erlangten ein Urteil. Der
Strassburger Gerichtshof legte kurz und bündig dar, dass er ratione
temporis die Ausschreitungen als solche nicht beurteilen könne, und
äußerte sich so nur über das darauf folgende Verfahren ab dem
Zeitpunkt des rumänischen Beitritts zur EMRK. Die zerstörten Häuser
wurden nur spärlich wieder aufgebaut. Faktisch war es den meisten
Roma, deren Häuser niedergebrannt worden waren, nicht mehr mög-
lich, ins Dorf zurückzukehren. Die ethnische Herkunft der
Beschwerdeführer schien für die Länge und das Resultat der staatli-
chen Verfahren entscheidend gewesen zu sein.49 Die Urteile der
nationalen Gerichte enthielten mehrfach rassistische Äußerungen
und die Regierung konnte nichts vorbringen, um dieses staatliche
Verhalten zu rechtfertigen. Der Gerichtshof stellte eine Verletzung von
Art. 14 in Verbindung mit Art. 6 EMRK sowie eine Verletzung von Art.
14 in Verbindung mit Art. 6 und Art. 8 EMRK fest.

 Id., Rn. 34.

48

 Id., Rn. 139.

49
618 daniel thürer & nina burri

b) Stereotypisierung an der russischen Grenze50

Es ging um folgenden Sachverhalt:
T, ein tschetschenischer Anwalt russischer Staatsangehörigkeit, floh
nach der militärischen Zerstörung seines Besitzes 1994 aus Grozny
und lebte seit 1996 im russischen Nalchik. Im Juni 1999 wurden T und
sein Fahrer am Checkpoint zwischen der Republik Inguschetien und
Nalchik vom russischen Inspektorat für Straßensicherheit angehalten.
Die Beamten verweigerten ihnen den Eintritt nach Nalchik. Sie berie-
fen sich auf mündliche Instruktionen des vorgesetzten Ministeriums,
welches angeordnet hatte, Tschetschenen den Durchgang zu verwei-
gern. Nach abweichender Aussage der Regierung wollten sich T und
sein Fahrer nicht hinten in der wartenden Schlange anstellen, worauf
sie weggeschickt wurden. Auf die Beschwerde vor dem lokalen Gericht
stellte dieses mitunter fest: „with a view to preventing and putting an
end to the entering into towns and villages of persons having terrorist or
antisocial intentions … the road safety police were ordered to reinforce
security measures.“51
Gerügt wurden eine Verletzung der Freizügigkeit (Art. 2 des 4. ZP
der EMRK) an sich sowie in Verbindung mit Art. 14 EMRK. Die
Aussagen der lokalen Gerichte über den Tatsachenhergang waren
widersprüchlich. Der Befehl der Behörden lautete im vorliegenden
Fall, „Tschetschenen“ keinen Zutritt zu gewähren. Und da die ethni-
sche Identität aus den Ausweispapieren nicht ersichtlich ist, wurde der
Zutritt nicht nur Personen verweigert, die Tschetschenen waren,
sondern auch jenen, die es zu sein schienen. Eine solche Einteilung,
beziehungsweise ein Stereotypisieren von Personen nach bestimmten
äußerlich erkennbaren ethnischen Kriterien wird Profiling genannt.52
Die Regierung brachte keine genügend substantiierte Rechtfertigung
für den Befehl des Profiling vor, so dass der Gerichtshof einstimmig
eine Verletzung von Art. 2 des 4. ZP in Verbindung mit Art. 14 EMRK
feststellte. Die Essenz aus dem Urteil ist einfach und klar: „…no

50
EGMR, Timishev v. Russland (Fn. 46).
51
 Id., Rn. 15.
52
Eine Variante davon war die „Rasterfahndung“ der deutschen Behörden nach
den terroristischen Attentaten des 11. Septembers 2001. Das Überwachungskomitee
der Antirassismuskonvention statuierte bezüglich des kanadischen Anti-Terrorism
Act, dass ein rassisches oder ethnisches Profiling zu einer durch die Antirassismuskon-
vention verbotenen Diskriminierung führen könne (UN Doc CERD C/61/CO/3,
para. 338 (2002)). Ausführlicher dazu wie auch zum behandelten Fall bei O. de
Schutter/J. Ringelheim, Ethnic Profiling: A Rising Challenge for European Human
Rights Law, 71 The Modern Law Review 358 (2008).
 rassismusbekämpfung im europäischen rechtsraum619

difference in treatment which is based exclusively or to a decisive extent

on a person’s ethnic origin is capable of being objectively justified in a
contemporary democratic society built on the principles of pluralism and
respect for different cultures.“53 Die Schlüsselpassage dieses Zitats ist die
Passage „exclusively or to a decisive extent“. Basiert eine unterschiedli-
che Behandlung also in entscheidendem Maße allein auf dem Kriterium
der unterschiedlichen ethnischen Herkunft, ohne sich auf weitere, im
selben Maße entscheidungsträchtige Kriterien abzustützen, verletzt sie
das Verbot der Rassendiskriminierung.
c) Eine Verfassung in Frage gestellt54
Die Verfassung von Bosnien und Herzegowina ist als Bestandteil des
Friedensabkommens für Bosnien und Herzegowina (Dayton-
Abkommen) im Jahr 1995 entstanden und in Kraft getreten. Als Teil
des Friedensvertrages fehlt der Verfassung eine demokratische
Legitimation durch das Volk des Verfassungsstaates. Auch wurde der
Text nie offiziell in einer Landessprache, sondern nur auf Englisch pub-
liziert. Um den Frieden und das ethnische Gleichgewicht in der krisen-
geschüttelten Region zu wahren, wurde ein Power-Sharing Agreement
abgeschlossen. Diese Vereinbarung gibt in der Präambel der Verfassung
den Volksgruppen der Bosniaken, der Kroaten und der Serben je den
Status von Constituent Peoples.55 Die Sitze in der kollektiven
Präsidentschaft und im Zweikammersystem des Parlaments werden
unter diesen drei Gruppen aufgeteilt. Zudem stehen ihnen starke
Vetorechte zu. Die Beschwerdeführer S und F sind beide erfolgreiche
und in der Politik gut etablierte Persönlichkeiten. Sie bezeichnen sich
als Roma bzw. als Jude. Da beide keinem der drei Constituent Peoples
zugehörig sind, kommt ihnen kein passives Wahlrecht zu. Im Jahr 2007
wollten sie für die Wahl der zweiten Kammer im Parlament und für die
Präsidentschaft kandidieren, was ihnen verweigert wurde.
Die Große Kammer führte in ihrem Urteil vom 22. Dezember 2009
zuerst in einem beträchtlichen Umfang relevante staatliche und inter-
nationale Rechtsgrundlagen auf. Bezüglich der Wahl in das Parlament

53
EGMR, Timishev v. Russland (Fn. 46), Rn. 58; im Jahr 2007 nahm auch die Euro-
pean Commission against Racism and Intolerance (ECRI) das Verbot des Profiling in
ihre Empfehlung auf, vgl. ECRI, General Policy Recommendation No. 11 on Comba-
ting Racism and Racial Discrimination in Policing vom 29. Juni 2007.
54
EGMR, Große Kammer, Sejdić und Finci v. Bosnien und Herzegowina, Urteil vom
22. Dezember 2009, Appl. Nos. 27996/06 und 34836/06.
55
Constitution of Bosnia and Herzegovina, Präambel, Art. IV und V, verfügbar
unter http://www.ccbh.ba/eng/p_stream.php?kat=518.
620 daniel thürer & nina burri

sei durchaus einzusehen, dass die Machtteilung zwischen den drei

Volksgruppen eine Investition in den Frieden in der von Bürgerkrieg
zerrütteten Region und als solcher Kompromiss notwendig gewesen
sei. Damit war ein objektiver und vernünftiger Rechtfertigungsgrund
vorhanden. Die Regelung des absoluten Ausschlusses aller anderen
ethnischen Volksgruppen sei jedoch in keiner Weise verhältnismäßig,
gebe es doch diverse andere, weniger einschneidende Regelungen,
die zum selben Ziel führen würden.56 In dieser Hinsicht verletzt die
Regelung des passiven Wahlrechts in die Legislative Art. 3 des 1. ZP zur
EMRK in Verbindung mit Art. 14 EMRK. Im Bezug auf das passive
Wahlrecht für die Präsidentschaft für Bosnien und Herzegowina stellte
die Große Kammer erstmalig eine Verletzung des 12. Zusatzprotokolls
zur EMRK fest. Die Richter verwiesen auf die Autoren des 12.
Zusatzprotokolls, welche dieselbe Terminologie wie bei Art. 14 EMRK
verwendet hätten. Deswegen gebe es keinen Grund, nicht auf die
etablierte Rechtsprechung zum Diskriminierungsverbot von Art. 14
EMRK zurückzugreifen.57 Die Große Kammer öffnete durch diese
Argumentation die Tür zur direkten Übernahme der Rechtsprechung
zu Art. 14 EMRK für das 12. Zusatzprotokoll.
Das Urteil zeitigte alarmierende Reaktionen.58 Judge Bonello ging
gar soweit zu sagen, dass kein Staat in eine solche Lage gebracht wer-
den dürfe: „I, for my part, doubt that any State should be placed under
any legal or ethical obligation to sabotage the very system that saved its
democratic existence. It is situations such as these that make judicial self-
restraint look more like a credit than a flaw.“59 Bosnien und Herzegowina
hat die Aufgabe, die Basis und Stabilität des Friedens im Land zu

56
So die Große Kammer mit Verweis auf Vorschläge der Venice Commission, vgl.
EGMR, Große Kammer, Sejdić und Finci v. Bosnien und Herzegowina (Fn. 54), Rn. 48.
57
EGMR, Große Kammer, Sejdić und Finci v. Bosnien und Herzegowina (Fn. 54),
Rn. 55.
58
Der Entscheid einer Verletzung von Art. 14 EMRK erging mit 14 zu 3 Stimmen.
Die abweichenden Meinungen von Richter Mijovic, Hajiyev und Bonello bemängelten
in erster Linie, dass das Urteil den historischen Hintergrund des noch jungen Staates
zu wenig berücksichtigt hätte. Eine Verletzung des passiven Wahlrechts sei nicht gleich
hoch zu werten, wie eine Destabilisierung der verfassungsrechtlichen Grundpfeiler, die
den Frieden in der Region erst ermöglicht hätten.
59
Dissenting Opinion of Judge Bonello; kritisch dazu auch M. Milanovic, Sejdic
and Finci v. Bosnia and Herzegovina, 104 American Journal of International Law 636
(2010). In diesem Artikel wird insbesondere auch die schwierige Lage der Gerichte von
Bosnien und Herzegowina während dem gesamten Verfahren beleuchtet. Hauptprob-
lem war unter anderem, dass das Verfassungsgericht keine Möglichkeit hatte, die Ver-
fassung außer Kraft zu setzen. Art. VI der Verfassung sieht gerade vor, dass es Aufgabe
des Verfassungsgerichts sei „to uphold this Constitution“.
 rassismusbekämpfung im europäischen rechtsraum621

restaurieren und zwar in einer die EMRK nicht verletzenden Weise.

Dazu wurde eine Task Force ins Leben gerufen, welche im Herbst 2010
jedoch noch keine bemerkenswerten Fortschritte erzielen konnte.60

4) Urteile der dritten Generation: Indirekte Diskriminierung

Es gibt Situationen, in welchen keine direkte Diskriminierung erfolgt,
gewisse Maßnahmen aber dennoch für bestimmte Personengruppen
unverhältnismäßig nachteilige Wirkungen erzeugen. Je nach Ausprä­
gung dieser Wirkungen kann es zu einer indirekten Diskriminierung
kommen. Eine indirekte Rassendiskriminierung liegt vor, wenn eine
scheinbar neutrale Maßnahme oder gesetzliche Norm für eine Gruppe
bestimmten ethnischen Ursprungs unproportional große nachteilige
Konsequenzen zeitigt und es an einer objektiven und vernünfti-
gen Erklärung dieser Auswirkungen mangelt.61 Auch diese Form von
Diskriminierung ist verboten.62 Auch solche Fälle gelangten in jüngster
Zeit vor den Europäischen Gerichtshof für Menschenrechte und bilden
die dritte Generation der einschlägigen Rechtsprechung zu Art. 14
EMRK.
Dem EGMR lag 2006 im Fall D.H. und andere v. Tschechien fol-
gende Frage zur Beurteilung vor: Verletzt ein landesweites staatliches
System von Spezialschulen für mental zurückgebliebene Kinder das
Diskriminierungsverbot der EMRK?

60
So M. Milanovic (Fn. 59); die Umsetzung wird sowohl vom Ministerkomitee,
wie auch von der Parlamentarischen Versammlung und dem Europäischen Parlament
beobachtet. Für Vorschläge verfassungsrechtlicher Reformen siehe S. Gavric/D.
Banovic, Constitutional Reform in Bosnia and Herzegovina Procedures, Challenges,
Recommendations, 01 Südosteuropa Mitteilungen (2010), verfügbar unter www.ceeol
.com.
61
ECRI, General Policy Recommendation No. 7 on National Legislation to Com-
bat Racism and Racial Discrimination vom 13. Dezember 2002, I.) 1.) c): „‘Indirect
racial discrimination’ shall mean cases where an apparently neutral factor such as a
provision, criterion or practice cannot be as easily complied with by, or disadvantages,
persons belonging to a group designated by a ground such as race, colour, language,
religion, nationality or national or ethnic origin, unless this factor has an objective
and reasonable justification. This latter would be the case if it pursues a legitimate aim
and if there is a reasonable relationship of proportionality between the means emplo-
yed and the aim sought to be realised.”
62
So statuieren es auch das Internationale Übereinkommen zur Beseitigung jeder
Form der Rassendiskriminierung, verabschiedet durch die UNO-Generalversamm-
lung am 7. März 1966, 660 UNTS 195, sowie Art. 2 des Internationalen Pakts über
bürgerliche und politische Rechte, vom 16. Dezember 1966, 999 UNTS 171. Siehe auch
die General Policy Recommendation No. 7 der European Commission against Racism
and Intolerance (ECRI) (Fn. 61).
622 daniel thürer & nina burri

Tschechien unterhielt ein System von Sonderschulen für Kinder mit

„speziellen Bedürfnissen“, einschließlich solcher mit einem sozialen
oder mentalen Handicap. Die Unterbringung in diesen Sonderschulen
basierte auf einem psychologischen Test über die intellektuellen
Fähigkeiten des jeweiligen Kindes. Zusätzliche Voraussetzung war die
Zustimmung des Erziehungsberechtigten. An diesen Schulen wurde
nach einem von den staatlichen Schulen abweichenden Lehrplan
unterrichtet. Der Übergang in ordentliche Schulen war zwar möglich,
aufgrund der unterdurchschnittlichen Schulkenntnisse aber sehr
erschwert, zumal für einen Übertritt ein Eintrittstest nötig war. In der
tschechischen Gemeinde Ostrava, wo ein Teil der Beschwerdeführer
die Schule besuchte, waren gemäß Statistiken des Jahres 1999 von 1360
Schülern 762 (56%) Roma, während in der ordentlichen Primarschule
nur 2,26% Roma-Kinder waren. Im Ergebnis wurden nur 1,8% der
Nicht-Roma-Kinder in die Sonderschulen verwiesen, wobei 50,3% der
Roma-Kinder in diesen Spezialschulen unterrichtet wurden. Daraus
ergab sich bei einem Roma-Kind eine 27mal größere Wahrscheinlichkeit,
in diese Sonderschulen eingeteilt zu werden, als bei einem Nicht-
Roma-Kind. Die 18 Beschwerdeführer, Angehörige der Volksgruppe
der Roma, welche zwischen 1996 und 1999 an diesen Sonderschulen
unterrichtet wurden, machten geltend, dass sie nicht genügend über
die Konsequenzen der Zustimmung der Platzierung in der Sonderschule
unterrichtet worden seien. Zudem rügten sie, dass durch die generelle
Funktionsweise des Spezialschulsystems de facto eine Rassenteilung
und Diskriminierung im Sinne von Art. 14 in Verbindung mit Art. 2
des 4. Zusatzprotokolls der EMRK stattfinde.63
Die Kammer des Gerichtshofs nahm zur Kenntnis, dass die
Ausbildung von Roma-Kindern in Tschechien in keiner Weise perfekt
sei, konnte aber im konkreten Fall keine Konventionsverletzung durch
eine Diskriminierung feststellen. Der Fall war von Vertretern der
Roma-Gemeinde zum Entscheidungsfall per se erkoren worden. Groß
war dann auch die Enttäuschung über das negative Urteil.64

63
EGMR, Kammer, D.H. u.a. v. Tschechien (D.H. I), Urteil vom 7. Februar 2006,
Appl. No. 57325/00.
64
Der Fall wurde sogar mit dem geschichtsträchtigen Fall Brown. v. Board of Educa-
tion des US Supreme Courts verglichen, so M. Goodwin, D.H. and Others v. Czech
Republic: a major set-back for the development of non-discrimination norms in
Europe, 07/04 German Law Journal 421, 428 (2006).
 rassismusbekämpfung im europäischen rechtsraum623

Die Beschwerdeführer zogen den Entscheid an die Große Kammer

des Gerichtshofs weiter.65 Diese stellte eine Verletzung von Art. 2 des 4.
ZP in Verbindung mit Art. 14 EMRK fest. Die umstrittene Hauptfrage
war, ob Statistiken genügen können, um die Vermutung einer indirek-
ten Diskriminierung zu begründen. Entscheidend ist, dass sobald eine
solche Vermutung erstellt wird, die Beweislast dem beklagten Staat
zufällt. Zur Etablierung der eigenen Beweisregeln zog das Gericht viele
Materialien anderer internationaler Organe bei, welche sich zu dieser
Art von Beweisführung äußern. Im Rahmen der Europäischen Union
(EU) führt die Richtlinie des Europäischen Rates 2000/43/EG aus-
drücklich auf, dass die Behauptung einer indirekten Diskriminierung
mit allen Mitteln „including on the basis of statistical evidence“ erstellt
werden könne.66 Diese Praxis wurde in der EU zunächst in Bezug auf
indirekte Diskriminierungen aufgrund des Geschlechtes entwickelt.
Doch auch für den Europäischen Gerichtshof für Menschenrechte war
diese Möglichkeit nicht neu. Bereits im Fall East African Asians v.
United Kingdom67 schloss die Kommission die umliegenden Umstände
des Falles einschließlich statistischer Daten in ihre Erwägungen über
eine indirekte Diskriminierung mit ein. Ein weniger weit zurücklie-
gendes Urteil68 bestätigte dann ausführlicher, dass Statistiken genügen,
um die Beweislast umzukehren.69 Im vorliegenden Fall bediente sich
der Gerichtshof einer umfangreichen Dokumentation internationaler
Rechtsgrundlagen und Arbeitsdokumente internationaler Akteure.
Auch wurden verschiedene Intervenienten angehört, welche sich dem
Prozess angeschlossen hatten.70 Mit Zuhilfenahme all dieser Daten
konnte die unproportionale Wirkung mit verschiedenen Statistiken

65
EGMR, Große Kammer, D.H. u.a. v. Tschechien (D.H. II), Urteil vom 13. Novem-
ber 2007, Appl. No. 57325/00.
66
Council Directive 2000/43/EC implementing the principle of equal treatment
between persons irrespective of racial or ethnic origin, vom 29. Juni 2000, O. J. 2000
L 180, 22–26.
67
EKMR, Bericht der Kommission vom 14 Dezember 1973, Appl. Nos. 4403/70–
4530/70, Entscheidung und Bericht 78-B, 5.
68
EGMR, Hoogendijk v. Niederlande, Urteil vom 6. Januar 2005, Appl. No. 58461/00.
69
 Im Entscheid EGMR, Zarb Adami v. Malta, Urteil vom 20. Juni 2006, Appl. No.
17209/02, berief sich der Gerichtshof – inter alia – auf statistische Beweise für die Dar-
legung einer ungleichen Wirkung.
70
So Interrights, Human Rights Watch, Minority Rights Group International, the
European Network against Racism, the European Roma Information Office, Internati-
onal Step by Step Association, the Roma Education Fund, the European Early Child-
hood Education Research Association, and the Fédération internationale des ligues des
droits de l’Homme.
624 daniel thürer & nina burri

gestützt werden. Diese führte dazu, dass die Große Kammer die
Beweislastumkehr vornahm. Damit war der entscheidende Schritt
getan, Tschechien musste nun den Gegenbeweis erbringen.
Dieses Urteil erntete viel (vor allem politischen) Applaus, war es
doch ein weiterer wichtiger Schritt in der Etablierung von Beweis­
maßstäben in Fällen der Rassendiskriminierung. Dennoch, die Begeis­
terung verflog rasch. Auch wenn das Resultat begrüßt wurde, so war
doch der Weg dahin von einigen Ungereimtheiten gepflastert. Kritisiert
wurden erstens die ungenauen Anforderungen an Statistiken71 sowie
zweitens die mangelnde Prüfung der diskriminierenden Wirkung der
besonderen Betroffenheit der einzelnen Beschwerdeführer. Dieser
Mangel ist wesentlich in dem Sinne, dass wenn sich eine besondere
Betroffenheit als nicht diskriminierend herausstellt, gar keine
Rechtfertigung mehr nötig ist.72 Dritter Kritikpunkt war, dass die
Große Kammer von einer Einzelfallprüfung abgesehen hatte.73 Zu
Beginn des Urteils war festgehalten, dass „… as a result of their turbu-
lent history and constant uprooting the Roma have become a specific type
of disadvantaged and vulnerable minority“.74 Dass die Beschwerdeführer
der Volksgruppe der Roma angehörten, genügte, um von einer weite-
ren individuellen Prüfung abzusehen.75 Die fehlende individuelle
Prüfung birgt die Gefahr in sich, dass jedes Roma-Kind als möglicher
Beschwerdeführer reüssiert hätte. Diese Handhabung ähnelt der
Funktionsweise des strittigen tschechischen Schulsystems, welches es
ebenso unterlassen hat, auf individuelle Bedürfnisse einzugehen.76
Einen vierten Makel sahen einige Autoren in der Argumentation mit
der Einwilligung der betroffenen Eltern. Die Große Kammer stellte

71
 Im Sinne von „reliable and significant“, vgl. D.H. II (Fn. 65), Rn. 188. Diese Qua-
lifizierung könnte ein Stolperstein für künftige Klagen darstellen, werden doch die
betreffenden Statistiken oft von den Interessensverbänden der Kläger vorgelegt. Näher
dazu R. Sandland (Fn. 32).
72
Ausführlich dazu K. Heyden/A. von Ungern-Sternberg, Ein Diskriminierungs-
verbot ist kein Fördergebot – Wider die neue Rechtsprechung des EGMR zu Art. 14
EMRK, 36 EuGRZ 84 (2009).
73
So M. Goodwin, Taking on racial segregation: the European Court of Human
Rights at a Brown v. Board of Education moment?, 3 Rechtsgeleerd Magazijn THEMIS
93, 100 (2009); in die gleiche Richtung, wenn auch mit heftigerer Kritik gehen
K. Heyden/A. von Ungern-Sternberg (Fn. 72), 81–89.
74
EGMR, D.H. II (Fn. 65), Rn. 182.
75
 Obwohl es die Kammer nicht als ihre Aufgabe betrachtete, „to assess the overall
social context“, vielmehr sei dies „to examine the individual applications“, vgl. D.H. I
(Fn. 63), Rn. 45.
76
Gleiche Meinung M. Goodwin (Fn. 73), 100.
 rassismusbekämpfung im europäischen rechtsraum625

fest, dass sie als Mitglieder einer benachteiligten Gemeinschaft oft

ärmlich ausgebildet und nicht fähig waren, alle Konsequenzen ihrer
Entscheidung abzuwägen.77 Die Eltern seien demnach auch nicht fähig
gewesen, auf das Recht auf Nichtdiskriminierung zu verzichten. Diese
umstrittene Argumentation wurde von Judge Borrego Borrego als ein
trauriges Beispiel „of fighting racism through racism“ bezeichnet.78
Trotz aller Kritik war man sich in der Lehre einig, dass der Entscheid
zwar die wünschenswerte Stoßrichtung aufweise, jedoch keinesfalls
das moralische und historische Format wie beispielsweise eine Brown v.
Board of Education-Entscheidung hatte.79
Im Jahr 2008 gelangte ein ähnlicher Fall vor den Gerichtshof:
Sampanis u.a. v. Griechenland.80 Dabei ging es um die Einschulung von
Roma-Kindern in der Ortschaft Psari in Westattika. Die Unterbringung
der Roma-Kinder in ordentliche Schulklassen scheiterte trotz großem
Engagement der Behörden am Widerstand der ansässigen Bevölkerung.
Schließlich wurden auch in diesem Fall Sonderklassen für Roma-
Kinder gegründet. Der EGMR stellte daraufhin eine Verletzung von
Art. 14 in Verbindung mit Art. 2 des 1. ZP zur EMRK fest. Positiv fiel
die Annäherung des Gerichts an die psychologischen Auswirkungen
einer Segregation auf, welche im Fall D.H. I und II noch völlig außer
Acht gelassen wurden.
Eine Weiterentwicklung der D.H. I und II -Rechtsprechung wurde
sich vom Fall Oršuš u.a. v. Kroatien81 erhofft:
15 Beschwerdeführer, alle zwischen 1988 und 1994 geboren und
Angehörige der Volksgruppe der Roma, besuchten zeitweise eine spe-
zielle Schulklasse, getrennt von den kroatischen Kindern. Beim
Abschluss der Grundausbildung fiel auf, dass nur 16% der Roma-
Kinder, im Vergleich zu 91% der restlichen schulpflichtigen Kinder, die
Grundschule abschlossen. Im Jahr 2002 erhoben die Beschwerdeführer
Klage gegen drei von ihnen besuchte Grundschulen, den Staat und den
betreffenden Bezirk. Gerügt wurde, dass der Lehrstoff in den Roma-
Klassen viel geringer sei als im offiziellen Lehrplan vorgesehen. Eine
solche Benachteiligung habe negative psychische Auswirkungen zur

77
EGMR, D.H. II (Fn. 65), Rn. 203.
78
Auf etwas theatralische Weise erklärt Judge Borrego Borrego in seiner Dissenting
Opinion analog zu einst John F. Kennedy in Berlin: „I am a Czech Roma“.
79
Abwägend dazu M. Goodwin (Fn. 73), 102.
80
EGMR, Sampanis u.a. v. Griechenland, Urteil vom 5. Juli 2008, Appl. No. 32526/05.
81
EGMR, Kammer, Oršuš u.a. v. Kroatien (Oršuš I), Urteil vom 17. Juli 2008, Appl.
No. 15766/03.
626 daniel thürer & nina burri

Folge, sei diskriminierend und verletze das Recht auf Bildung und
das Verbot unmenschlicher und erniedrigender Behandlung (Art. 3
EMRK). Die Behörden rechtfertigten die Einteilung in andere Klassen
mit einer bei Schuleintritt vorgenommenen Untersuchung auf körper-
liche und schulische Reife. Die Beurteilung erfolge dabei insbesondere
nach den Kenntnissen der kroatischen Sprache.
Die Rüge einer Verletzung von Art. 3 EMRK wurde kurz und bündig
zurückgewiesen.82 In den Erwägungen der Kammer wurden mehrere
Vergleiche zum Fall D.H. II gezogen. Dabei wurde die Lage in Kroatien
als wesentlich weniger bedenklich eingestuft. Nur in einer kleineren
Anzahl von kroatischen Schulen gab es gesonderte Roma-Klassen, dies
war aber in keiner Weise eine generelle landesweite Praxis. Auch wurde
das Argument der mangelnden kroatischen Sprachkenntnisse stärker
gewichtet als jenes der mangelnden geistigen Leistungsfähigkeit (wie
im Fall D.H.). In der Folge verneinte die Kammer eine Verletzung von
Art. 14 EMRK in Verbindung mit Art. 2 des 1. ZP zur EMRK.
Auch dieses Urteil wurde an die Große Kammer weitergezogen.83
Der Entscheid fiel mit 9 zu 8 Stimmen äußerst knapp aus. Das Urteil
enthält 13 Seiten internationaler Dokumentation zum Thema und
stützt seine Argumentation wesentlich auf diesen Quellen ab.84 Wäh­
rend in D.H. zwischen 50 und 70% der Roma-Kinder betroffen waren,
waren es in Sampanis alle ansässigen Roma-Kinder. Die Statistiken
divergierten aber von Ortschaft zu Ortschaft und genügten nicht, um
die Vermutung einer Rassendiskriminierung aufzustellen. Die Große
Kammer bemerkte dann aber, dass indirekte Diskriminierungen auch
ohne statistische Grundlagen bewiesen werden könnten. Das war ein
weiterer Schritt in der Entwicklung einer opferfreundlicheren Beweis­
regelung. Im konkreten Fall wurde die unterschiedliche Platzierung
aufgrund der kroatischen Sprachkenntnisse nur im Bezug auf die
Roma-Kinder angewendet. Dies stellte eine ungleiche Behandlung
allein aufgrund ethnischer Kriterien dar. Gekoppelt mit den
Erkenntnissen des Berichts des Menschenrechtskommissars über eine

82
Entgegen EKMR, Ost Afrika Fall, Bericht der Kommission vom 14. Dezember
1973, Appl. Nos. 4403/70–4530/70, Entscheidung und Bericht 78-B, 5; vgl. auch
Nachova I (Fn. 12), wo der EGMR festhielt, dass eine Diskriminierung ein „particular
affront to human dignity“ sein könne.
83
EGMR, Große Kammer, Oršuš u.a. v. Kroatien (Oršuš II), Urteil vom 16. März
2010, Appl. No. 15766/03.
84
 Id., Rn. 67–95, Berichte des Europarats über Kroatien wie auch relevante Materi-
alien der Vereinten Nationen.
 rassismusbekämpfung im europäischen rechtsraum627

Demonstration von Nicht-Roma-Eltern vor einer kroatischen Schule

gelang es, auch ohne Statistiken eine Vermutung der indirekten
Rassendiskriminierung aufzustellen.85
Dem kroatischen Staat gelang es in der Folge nicht, eine genügende
Rechtfertigung für diese Praxis darzulegen. Der EGMR prüfte aber im
Gegensatz zum Urteil D.H. II, wenn auch nur kurz, die individuelle
Betroffenheit jedes einzelnen Beschwerdeführers. Bezüglich der
Zustimmung der Eltern wiederholte die Große Kammer – leider – die
Ausführungen aus dem D.H. II-Urteil. Zusammenfassend ist festzuhal-
ten, dass die schulischen Maßnahmen der Gemeinden die Roma-
Kinder betreffend innerhalb des staatlichen Spielraums zu wenig
Absicherungen und Transparenz aufwiesen, um deren besonderen
Bedürfnissen als Mitglieder einer benachteiligten Gruppe gerecht zu
werden.86 Eine weitere Einzelfallprüfung fand aber auch in diesem
Urteil nicht statt.
***
Wie eingangs erörtert, war vom Gerichtshof zu erwarten, dass er
Ungleichgewichte behebe oder mindere, welche einerseits durch die
Schwierigkeit entstehen, eine rassistische Absicht zu beweisen, und
andererseits durch den Unterschied der zur Verfügung stehenden
Mittel von Staaten und Individuen bedingt sind. Die Rechtsprechung
zur Umkehr der Beweislast in Fällen ausreichender Anzeichen für ras-
sistisch motivierte Straftaten wurde seit Nachova u.a. v. Bulgarien
durch weitere Urteile bestätigt. Es muss nun definitiv nicht mehr eine
rassistische Absicht dargelegt werden, sondern es genügen Anzeichen,
welche auf eine solche hindeuten könnten. Dadurch ist die prozessuale
Stellung der Beschwerdeführer sichtlich gestärkt worden. Bei den
Urteilen der zweiten Generation stießen wir auf einen Fall, in dem eine
unterschiedliche Behandlung allein oder zumindest entscheidend auf
der ethnischen Herkunft einer Person beruhte; eine solche
Unterscheidung wurde als klar unzulässig bezeichnet. In der
Rechtsprechung zur dritten Generation, welche Fälle indirekter
Diskriminierungen betraf, wurde durch Zulassung von Statistiken ein
wesentlicher Schritt zur Stärkung der Stellung der Beschwerdeführer
getan. Noch im Fall Chapman87 hatte der Gerichtshof festgehalten, dass
der Minderhei­tenschutz auf europäischer Ebene zu wenig normative

85
 Id., Rn. 155.
86
 Id., Rn. 182.
87
EGMR, Chapman v. Vereinigtes Königreich (Fn. 25).
628 daniel thürer & nina burri

Kraft besitze, um den Ermessensspielraum der Staaten entscheidend

einzuschränken. In den letzten fünf Jahren ist die Grenzlinie zwischen
dem Gestaltungsspielraum der Konventionsstaaten und der Stellung
des Individuums indessen beträchtlich verschoben worden. So drang
das Gericht etwa im Fall Oršuš II wesentlich in den traditionell staatli-
chen Zuständigkeitsraum ein, indem es dem beklagten Staat (Kroatien)
sogar das Ermessen für die Entscheidung eines Übertritts von einer
Sonder- in eine gemischte Klasse absprach.88 Man könnte schließlich
sogar die Frage stellen, ob der Gerichtshof nicht – nachdem seine
Rechtsprechung zusehends von einem formellen hin zu einem materi-
ellen Gleichheitsprinzip tendierte – nunmehr in Form von „affirmative
actions“ einen weiteren Schritt zu gezielten, aktiven Maßnahmen zum
Schutze benachteiligter Minderheiten unternehmen sollte. Diese könn-
ten, als Ausfluss aus dem materiellen Gerechtigkeitsmodell, in äußers-
ten Fällen auch die Form von (gerechtfertigten) Ungleichbehandlungen
annehmen; sie könnten sogar eine Pflicht der Staaten beinhalten,
strukturelle Diskriminierungen auszugleichen.89

C. Aktuelle Lage: Zustand, Chancen und Horizonte

Verschiedene Kräfte waren am Werk, die in der Straßburger Recht­

sprechung zu einer raschen und konsequenten Aufwertung der
Europäischen Menschenrechtskonvention – ihres Diskriminierungs­
verbots und ihrer verschiedenen materiellen Garantien – führten. Sie
bringen uns zu folgenden abschließenden Überlegungen:

Erstens: Rassismus ist ein Grundübel unserer Gesellschaft. Es verstößt

gegen die Gerechtigkeit, dass Menschen allein wegen äußerer körperli-
cher Merkmale (wie Haarwuchs, Augenform oder Körperbau) ver-
schieden behandelt und herabgewürdigt (verachtet, gehasst) werden.

88
Ein noch nicht ausgeschöpftes Potential bietet derweil Art. 3 EMRK und das 12.
Zusatzprotokoll zur EMRK. Wie der Gerichtshof bereits in einem früheren Urteil
erkannt hat, könnten schwerste Formen der Diskriminierung einer herabwürdigenden
Behandlung im Sinne von Art. 3 EMRK gleichkommen. Doch eine Erweiterung des
Schutzes durch diese Möglichkeit, wie auch jene des 12. Zusatzprotokolls, unterließ der
Gerichtshof bisher bewusst; S. Trechsel, Überlegungen zum Verhältnis zwischen Art.
14 EMRK und dem 12. Zusatzprotokoll, in: R. Wolfrum (Fn. 11), 119, 128.
89
R. O’Connell, Cinderella comes to the Ball: Art. 14 and the right to non-discrimi-
nation in the ECHR, 29 Legal Studies 211, 226 (2009). In diesem Sinne ist ein Ausbau
der Architektur des Minderheitenschutzes nötig.
 rassismusbekämpfung im europäischen rechtsraum629

Das Übel muss und kann mit den Mitteln des Rechts bekämpft werden.
Dabei ist zunächst an das Recht der Staaten gedacht (etwa das
Verfassungsrecht, das Strafrecht, das Verwaltungsrecht wie z.B.
Polizeirecht oder Schulrecht, das Privatrecht wie z.B. Mietrecht oder
Arbeitsrecht). Da die Staaten aber häufig dieser Aufgabe nicht gewach-
sen sind (Stimmung und Agitationen in Gesellschaft und Politik) und
die Tatbestände häufig grenzüberschreitender Natur sind, ist auch das
internationale Recht gefordert. Europa steht im Fokus. Hier wurde, seit
dem 16. Jahrhundert, die Rassenideologie erfunden und entwickelt.
Hier erreichte im letzten Jahrhundert auch, abgesehen vom Völkermord
in Ruanda, der Rassismus einen traurigen Kulminationspunkt. Gedacht
ist vor allem an die Verfolgung, Deportation und Vernichtung von
Millionen Juden und anderen Minderheiten durch das Dritte Reich90,
aber auch an die im früheren Jugoslawien begangenen ethnisch
motivierten Verbrechen, zu denen es wohl nicht gekommen wäre,
wenn Jugoslawien damals schon fest im Gefüge der europäischen
Institutionen verankert gewesen wäre.91

Zweitens: In Europa wurden im Spannungsfeld zwischen dem Europä-

ischen Gerichtshof für Men­schenrechte und der Europäischen Kom-
mission gegen Rassismus und Intoleranz Schutzmechanismen
geschaffen, die sich gegenseitig ergänzen. Der Straßburger Gerichtshof
hat die Kompetenz, rechtsverbindliche Urteile zu fällen, doch ist er
mit dem Nachteil behaftet, dass er nur reaktiv und häufig erst mit
großen zeitlichen Abständen zu den fraglichen Ereignissen entschei-
det, doch hat er die Kompetenz, rechtsverbindliche Urteile zu fällen.
Er hat in den letzten Jahren eine beachtliche Rechtsprechung entwi-
ckelt und insofern die Linie zwischen dem „domaine réservé“ der
Vertragsstaaten (Souveränität) und der Ausstrahlungskraft der Kon-
vention beständig verschoben. Er hat zu Recht Fragen der Rassendis-
kriminierung als essentielle, elementare Menschenrechtsfragen
identifiziert, die zum Minimalstandard des europäischen Menschen-
rechtsschutzes gehören. Wir haben die Wege nachgezeichnet, welche
der Gerichtshof – von der Beweissicherung über den materiellen

90
Eine besondere Ausprägung fand die Ideologie des Rassismus im Parteipro-
gramm der Nationalsozialisten: „Staatsbürger kann nur sein, wer Volksgenosse ist.
Volksgenosse kann nur sein, wer deutschen Blutes ist …. Kein Jude kann daher Volks-
genosse sein.“Punkt 4 des 25-Punkte-Programms der NSDAP von 1920.
91
Vergleiche D. Thürer, Völkerrecht als Fortschritt und Chance – Grundidee
Gerechtigkeit, 893, 900 (2009).
630 daniel thürer & nina burri

Schutz vor Diskriminierung bis zu Formen von indirekter Diskrimi-

nierung – gegangen ist. Der Gerichthof ist – wenn auch spät – im Rah-
men der Europäischen Menschenrechtskonvention zu einem
maßgeblichen „Protektor“ rassischer Minderheiten geworden. Die
Rassismuskommission des Europarates hat eine andere Gestalt. Sie
agiert nicht reaktiv, sondern proaktiv und ist in der Lage, schon in frü-
heren Stadien von Spannungen und Konflikten tätig zu werden. Sie hat
– wenn auch nur als „soft law“-Organismus konzipiert – die Möglich-
keit, auf dem Weg des Dialogs und der Aktion mit den Behörden sowie
Akteuren der „civil society“ auch vor Ort gestaltend wirksam zu wer-
den. Die Europäische Kommission gegen Rassismus und Intoleranz
kann daher als „Promotor“ des Schutzes von Opfern des Rassismus
bezeichnet werden, und zwar als ein Organ außerordentlicher, einzig-
artiger Natur, denn nirgends besteht zurzeit ein vergleichbarer Mecha-
nismus. Die EKRI sollte daher nicht nur organisatorisch und
ressourcenmäßig gestärkt, sondern in Prozessen des „legal and institu-
tional engineering“ von anderen internationalen Organisationen zum
Vorbild genommen werden. Vor allem sollten die Synergien der Insti-
tutionen besser genutzt und die Zusammenarbeit gestärkt werden.

Drittens: Professionen (und Institutionen) stehen, wie uns scheint, in

der Theorie und in der Praxis zusehends in Gefahr, sich zu verselbstän-
digen, sich in eindimensionalen In-Sich-Gesprächen zu verlieren und
sich selbstvergessen aus der Realität zu verabschieden, die sie eigent-
lich – moralisch, sozial, politisch oder wirtschaftlich – gestalten soll-
ten. Solchen Versuchungen der Selbstisolierung, Verfremdung und
letztlich Irrelevanz sind vielleicht (in Institutionen oder in der Theorie
tätige) Juristen weniger ausgesetzt als Vertreter gewisser Richtungen
der Sozialwissenschaften oder der Wirtschaftswissenschaft. Dennoch
muss sich auch die Rechtswissenschaft ständig vergegenwärtigen,
was bei den sich stellenden Problemen die eigentlichen Grundanliegen
sind. Bei der Bekämpfung des Rassismus sind es marginalisierte
oder unterdrückte Mitmenschen, deren Schicksale aus Prozessak­
ten, Berichten über Verhältnisse in Gefängnissen und Lagern und
aus empirischen Darstellungen der Sozialforschung92 plastisch und
eindrücklich hervorgehen. Authentische Stimmen der Opfer sind
für normatives Handeln oft aussagekräftiger als Statistiken und

 P. Bourdieu, Misère du monde (1993).

92
 rassismusbekämpfung im europäischen rechtsraum631

logisch-abstrakte Deduktionen. Indignation93 und Imagination geben

häufig den Anstoß zu Reformen und dürfen in unserer verwissen-
schaftlichten Welt nicht verblassen (oder gar verschwinden). So gese-
hen ist der nachfolgende Bericht von Timothy Garton Ash nicht
uninteressant. Der britische Historiker schreibt:
„Vor einiger Zeit wurden Brasilianer im Rahmen der Volkszählung
aufgefordert, ihre Hautfarbe selbst zu beschreiben. Sie fanden dafür
134 Bezeichnungen, darunter ava rosatga (weiß mit leichtem Rosa­
schimmer), branca sardentga (weiss mit braunen Flecken), café con
leite (Milchkaffee), morena-canelada (zimtbraun), polaca (polnisch),
quase-negra (fast schwarz) und costada (getoastet). Diese unbeküm-
merte Poesie der Selbstbeschreibung spiegelt eine Realität, die man,
besonders in ärmeren Vierteln von Brasiliens Großstädten, mit eignen
Augen wahrnehmen kann … Brasilien ist ein Land, in dem die
Menschen die vielfältige Rassenmischung als ein nationales Merkmal
preisen. Damit geben sie einem ursprünglich hässlichen, nordamerika-
nischen Unwort eine positive Bedeutung. Jenseits von Schwarz und
Weiß. Schönheit der Rassenmischung. Wegen dieser Mischung zählen
die Brasilianer zu den schönsten menschlichen Wesen auf Erden.“94
Auch solche Geschichten dürfen – wie wir meinen – als „Zukunfts­
musik“ auch in einer rechtswissenschaftlichen Arbeit Erwähnung
finden.
Kehren wir zum Ausgangspunkt zurück. Nach den Worten von
Rüdiger Wolfrum werden Rassismus, Rassendiskriminierung oder
Fremdenfeindlichkeit letztlich nur zu überwinden sein, wenn in der
Gesellschaft das Bewusstsein verankert werden kann, dass kulturelle
Pluralität auch ein Positivum ist. Das Völkerrecht vermag hierzu – so
Wolfrum – einen Beitrag zu leisten, wenn es sich stärker auf diesen
Prozess der Bewusstseinsbildung konzentriert.95

93
S. Hessel, Indignez-vous! (2010).
94
 T. G. Ash, Jahrhundertwende, 356 (2010).
95
R. Wolfrum (Fn. 11), 231.
 The Committee on the Elimination
of Racial Discrimination and International
Humanitarian Law

David Weissbrodt*

A. Introduction

The four Geneva Conventions1 and the two Additional Protocols of

19772 are the primary humanitarian legal instruments, but generally
lack authoritative mechanisms for interpretation. Interpretation and
application of these treaties are principally left to the judgment of the
States parties to the Geneva Conventions and Protocols,3 as well as

* The author thanks Leo Twiggs for his help in preparing this article. Another,
longer version of this article appeared as D. Weissbrodt, The Approach of the
Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination to Interpreting and Applying
International Humanitarian Law, 19 Minn. J. Int’l L. 327 (2010). This topic was selected
for the Liber Amicorum because Rüdiger Wolfrum was a very well respected member
of the Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination.
1
Geneva Convention for the Amelioration of the Condition of the Wounded and
Sick in Armed Forces in the Field, 21 October 1950, 75 UNTS 31 [hereinafter Geneva
Convention 1]; Geneva Convention for the Amelioration of the Condition of Wounded,
Sick and Shipwrecked Members of Armed Forces at Sea, 21 October 1950, 75 UNTS 85
[hereinafter Geneva Convention 2]; Geneva Convention relative to the Treatment of
Prisoners of War, 21 October 1950, 75 UNTS 135 [hereinafter Geneva Convention 3];
Geneva Convention relative to the Protection of Civilian Persons in Time of War,
21 October 1950, 75 UNTS 287 [hereinafter Geneva Convention 4].
2
Protocol Additional to the Geneva Conventions of 12 August 1949, and Relating
to the Protection of Victims of International Armed Conflicts, 7 December 1978, 1125
UNTS 3 [hereinafter Geneva Protocol 1]; Protocol Additional to the Geneva
Conventions of 12 August 1949, and Relating to the Protection of Victims of Non-
International Armed Conflicts, 7 December 1978, 1125 UNTS 609 [hereinafter Geneva
Protocol 2].
3
See Geneva Convention 1, Article 49. See also K. Boon, Legislative Reform in
Post-Conflict Zones: Jus Post Bellum and the Contemporary Occupant’s Law-Making
Powers, 50 McGill Law Journal 285, at 305 (2005) (“With regard to the enforcement of
the Geneva Conventions more broadly, all contracting parties are required by article 1
to respect the Conventions, but the only external enforcement mechanism in the treaty
is article 49 of the First Convention, which requires high contracting parties to enact
penal legislation so as to prosecute grave breaches of the Conventions.”); N. Popovic,
Humanitarian Law, Protection of the Environment, and Human Rights, 8 Georgetown
International Environmental Law Review 67, at 77 (1995) (“Much of the responsibility
for compliance with the Geneva Conventions and Protocols is left to the parties
themselves, aided or cajoled by the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC).”)
The ICRC has also convened scholars from around the world to gather customary
634 david weissbrodt

increasingly to the International Criminal Court and tribunals.4 The

International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) encourages States
parties to comply with their obligations under humanitarian law, but it
is not an adjudicative body5 and rarely publishes its authoritative inter-
pretations of the Geneva Conventions and Protocols.6 At the same
time, the eight human rights treaty bodies, the thirty thematic mecha-
nisms of the U.N. Human Rights Council (formerly Commission), and
three regional human rights commissions/courts have responded to
various situations involving humanitarian law violations.7 Further,
national courts have been asked to apply humanitarian law for some
time, and particularly in the context of the “war on terror” post 2001.8
These various institutions, however, have merely taken on the task of
developing and interpreting humanitarian law on an ad hoc basis.
This Article reviews the jurisprudence of one of the principal
human rights treaty bodies, the Committee on the Elimination of
Racial Discrimination (“CERD,” “Committee,” or “Race Committee”).9

international law as to the content of humanitarian law. J. M. Henckaerts / L. Doswald-

Beck (eds.), Customary International Humanitarian Law, Vol. 1 (2005).
4
See Statute of the International Tribunal for the Prosecution of Persons Responsible
for Serious Violations of International Humanitarian Law Committed in the Territory
of the Former Yugoslavia since 1991, UN Doc. S/25704 at 36, annex (1993) and
S/25704/Add.1 (1993), adopted by Security Council on 25 May 1993, UN Doc. S/
RES/827 (1993); Statute of the International Tribunal for Rwanda, adopted by
S.C. Res. 955, UN SCOR, 49th Sess., 3453rd mtg., at 3, UN Doc. S/RES/955 (1994), 33
ILM. 1598, at 1600 (1994).
5
See M. M. Penrose, No Badges, No Bars: A Conspicuous Oversight in the
Development of an International Criminal Court, 38 Texas International Law Journal
621, at 641 (2003) (noting that the ICRC lacks adjudicative powers).
6
See, e.g., for an exceptional publication of an ICRC report: International
Committee of the Red Cross [ICRC], Regional Delegation for United States and
Canada, ICRC Report on the Treatment of Fourteen ‘High-Value’ Detainees in CIA
Custody (2007).
7
See, e.g., Comm’n Human Rights, Res. 2002/34 of 22 April 2002, para. 13(a)
(expressing Commission’s “grave concern over the continued occurrence of violations
of the right to life highlighted in the report of the Special Rapporteur [on extrajudicial,
summary or arbitrary executions] as deserving special attention [including] violations
of the right to life during armed conflict”). See also P. Alston, The Competence of the
UN Human Rights Council and Its Special Procedures in Relation to Armed Conflicts:
Extrajudicial Executions in the “War on Terror,” 19 European Journal International
Law 183, 196–197 (2008) (“Finally, the recent study on customary international
humanitarian law produced under the auspices of the International Committee of the
Red Cross concluded that ‘[t]here is extensive State practice to the effect that human
rights law must be applied during armed conflicts’”).
8
See, e.g., Hamdan v. Rumsfeld, 548 U.S. 557, at 631–632 (2006) (finding Common
Article 3 of the Geneva Conventions applicable).
9
CERD is the body of 18 independent experts established by the International
Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination, 4 January 1969,
 elimination of racial discrimination635

It examines CERD’s general approach to interpreting the International

Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination
(“Race Convention”), addressing relevant issues of international law,
and addressing the rules of international humanitarian law. Parts B
through E consider relevant decisions and recommendations that
CERD has produced to date, including its decisions on Individual
Communications (or Individual Complaints), General Recommen­
dations, Concluding Observations, and the Decisions and Recom­
mendations issued through its early-warning measures and urgent
procedures, respectively.

B. CERD Jurisprudence: Individual Complaints

The Race Convention establishes a procedure that makes it possible

for an individual claiming to be the victim of racial discrimination to
lodge a complaint with the Committee against the State concerned.10
International humanitarian law receives little discussion in the indi-
vidual complaints. In fact, there are only two instances of individual
complaints where the Committee considered international human
rights instruments outside of the Race Convention. In one instance,
CERD stated that all international instruments guaranteeing freedom
of expression provide for the possibility of limiting the exercise of free
expression under certain circumstances.11 The Committee went on to
conclude that racially discriminatory statements of an exceptionally or
manifestly offensive character violate Articles 4 and 6 of the Race
Convention.12 In another instance, CERD cited the International
Covenant of Economic, Social and Cultural Rights to support its
­decision that Article 5(c) of the Race Convention mandates non-
discrimination with respect to housing.13

660 UNTS 195 [hereinafter Race Convention] for the application and interpretation of
the Race Convention.
10
Race Convention, Article 14.
11
See CERD, The Jewish Community of Oslo et al. v. Norway, para. 10.5,
Communication No. 30/2003, UN Doc. CERD/C/67/D/30/2003 (2005) (noting that
statements of an exceptionally or manifestly offensive character are not protected by
the due regard clause and violate Articles 4, and 6 of the Race Convention).
12
Id.
13
See CERD, L. R. et al. v. Slovakia, Communication No. 31/2003, UN Doc. CERD/
C/66/D/31/2003 (2005) (“As a result, the Committee considers that the council resolu-
tions in question, taking initially an important policy and practical step towards
realization of the right to housing followed by its revocation and replacement with a
636 david weissbrodt

One reason CERD seldom considers other international humanitar-

ian or human rights instruments outside the Race Convention when
assessing individual complaints may be because petitioners do not
allege violations of other international instruments when petitioning
CERD. In order to be admissible, individual complaints must allege a
violation of rights set forth by the Race Convention.14 It seems that the
Committee would not directly consider a claim based on international
humanitarian law unless that claim was framed as an alleged violation
of the Race Convention.

C. CERD Concluding Observations:

CERD issues Concluding Observations in response to country reports

it periodically receives from States parties, pursuant to Article 9 of the
Race Convention.15 States are required to provide information on the
legislative, judicial, administrative, or other measures which they have
implemented to give effect to the provisions of the Race Convention.16
The Committee discusses international humanitarian law primarily
within the context of war or genocide situations in which minority
groups are particularly vulnerable.17 CERD interprets and applies
inter­national humanitarian law, demands compliance with inter­
national humanitarian norms, or condemns gross violations of
inter­national humanitarian standards.18 This Part considers CERD’s
approach to reviewing country reports, assesses its resulting treatment
of humanitarian law, and finds that while CERD discusses human
rights instruments outside of the Race Convention at length, its

weaker measure, taken together, do indeed amount to the impairment of the recogni-
tion or exercise on an equal basis of the human right to housing, protected by Article
5(c) of the Convention and further in article 11 of the International Covenant on
Economic, Social and Cultural Rights”).
14
CERD, Rules of Procedure of the CERD, Rule 91, UN Doc. CERD/C/35/Rev.3,
01/01/89 (“With a view to reaching a decision on the admissibility of a communica-
tion, the Committee or its Working Group shall ascertain: […] (b) That the individual
claims to be a victim of a violation by the State party concerned of any of the rights set
forth in the Convention”).
15
Race Convention, Article 9.
16
Id. See also M. O’Flaherty, Human Rights and the UN: Practice Before the Treaty
Bodies, at 80 (2002).
17
See infra, text accompanying notes 32–40.
18
Id.
 elimination of racial discrimination637

Concluding Observations offer only infrequent substantive analysis of

international humanitarian law.

I. CERD’s Approach to Assessing Periodic Reports

CERD’s Concluding Observations often refer to human rights instru-
ments pertaining to the overall human rights environment in a State
party. These references most often come in two forms: (1) a commen-
dation of a State party for its ratification of human rights instruments
in addition to the Race Convention,19 or (2) a recommendation that a
State party ratify a certain human rights instrument.20 Such commen-
dations and recommendations show that the Committee prefers States
parties to have additional human rights safeguards in place to guaran-
tee proper implementation of principles of non-discrimination.
In addition to human rights instruments which guarantee basic
human rights for all people, the Committee often both commends
States parties for the ratification of treaties,21 and recommends the rati-
fication of treaties,22 specifically those treaties pertaining to the human
rights of minority groups.23 The Committee prefers that States parties

19
E.g., CERD, Concluding Observations, Pakistan, para. 7, UN Doc. CERD/C/
PAK/CO/20 (2009) (“The Committee welcomes the ratification by the State party of
the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights in 2008”).
20
E.g., CERD, Concluding Observations, Montenegro, para. 15, UN Doc. CERD/C/
MNE/CO/1 (2009) (“The Committee recommends that the State party ratify the
Convention on the Reduction of Statelessness adopted in 1961”).
21
E.g., CERD, Concluding Observations, Dominican Republic, para. 5, UN Doc.
CERD/C/DOM/CO/12 (2008) (noting with satisfaction the ratification of the
Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women, its
Optional Protocol; and the Convention on the Rights of the Child, and its Optional
Protocol on the sale of children, child prostitution and child pornography).
22
E.g., CERD, Concluding Observation, Canada, UN Doc. CERD/C/CAN/CO/18
(2007) (“The Committee recommends that the State party support the immediate
adoption of the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, and
that it consider ratifying the ILO Indigenous and Tribal Peoples Convention No. 169”).
23
Concluding Observations also register notes of concern regarding a State party’s
maintenance of an obsolete treaty limitation, or absence of accession to or ratification
of a particular human rights instrument, which may impair its ability to comply with
mandates of the Race Convention. E.g., CERD, Concluding Observations, Turkey,
para. 9, UN Doc. CERD/C/TUR/CO/3 (2009) (“The Committee expresses concern
over the fact that the State party maintains the geographical limitation to the 1951
Convention relating to the Status of Refugees and its 1967 Protocol, which, in turn,
reduces the protection offered to refugees from non-European States and may subject
them to discrimination”).
638 david weissbrodt

ratify human rights instruments specifically protecting minority

groups. This preference illustrates the Committee’s awareness of the
relationship between the ratification and implementation of human
rights instruments protecting minorities, and a State party’s commit-
ment and ability to implement the Race Convention faithfully.
The Concluding Observations give special attention to a few issue
areas; specifically, violations of the rights of women, non-citizens, and
indigenous peoples.24 CERD gives these vulnerable groups special
attention both because violations in these human rights areas often
have an underlying racial component, and such groups generally have
little ability to influence government power structures for their own
protection.25 Members of such groups, furthermore, often experience
complex forms of disadvantage that persist over generations and in
which racial discrimination is mixed with other causes of social
inequality.26
Refugees also receive special consideration from CERD. The
Committee urges administrative and legislative measures to protect the
rights of refugees,27 and recommends that States parties ratify the
Convention relating to the Status of Refugees.28 CERD also praises

24
O’Flaherty (note 16), at 81. E.g., CERD, Concluding Observations, Czech
Republic, para. 14, UN Doc. CERD/C/CZE/CO/7 (2007) (noting with concern
the coerced sterilizations of women, especially the disproportionate numbers of steri-
lizations performed on Roma women, the lack of sufficient and prompt action to estab-
lish responsibilities and provide reparation to the victims, the State party’s positive
obligation to impede the illegal performance of forced and coerced sterilizations,
and recommending all necessary steps to facilitate victims’ access to justice and
reparation).
25
See also CERD, General Recommendation 30, Discrimination against Non-
citizens, para. 19, UN Doc. CERD/C/64/Misc.11/rev. 3 (2004); CERD, General
Recommendation 23, Rights of indigenous peoples, UN Doc. A/52/18, annex V, at 122
(1997); CERD, Colombia, UN Doc. CERD/C/304/Add.76 (1999). (“[T]he Committee
expresses concern that this climate of impunity may severely impact the rights of indig-
enous and Afro-Colombian communities, as these minority communities are sub-
jected disproportionately to violations of international human rights and humanitar-
ian norms”).
26
O’Flaherty (note 16), at 81.
27
CERD, Concluding Observations, Pakistan, para. 15, UN Doc. CERD/C/PAK/
CO/20 (2009) (“The Committee recommends that the State party […] enact a compre-
hensive legal framework governing the reception and treatment of refugees and related
categories of persons”).
28
E.g., CERD, Concluding Observations, Barbados, para. 22, UN Doc. CERD/C/
BRB/CO/16 (2005) (“The Committee strongly recommends that the State party ratify
the Convention relating to the Status of Refugees”).
 elimination of racial discrimination639

States parties for ratification of the Convention and the Protocol

Relating to the Status of Refugees,29 recommends that reservations be
reconsidered,30 and urges proper implementation.31

II. Treatment of International Humanitarian Law

Issues of humanitarian law do receive consideration from the
Committee in its Concluding Observations. In regard to armed con-
flict, CERD often recommends that States parties disseminate knowl-
edge of, and provide training in, international humanitarian law for
members of the armed forces, law enforcement officers, and other gov-
ernment employees responding to violent clashes.32 The Committee
notes when a State party has taken administrative and legislative meas-
ures to investigate violations of international humanitarian law during
armed conflict.33 CERD requests, furthermore, that States parties take

29
CERD, Concluding Observations, Kazakhstan, para. 7, UN Doc. CERD/C/65/
CO/3 (2004) (“The Committee also notes with satisfaction that the State party has
ratified the 1951 Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees and its 1967 Protocol
[…]”).
30
E.g., CERD, Concluding Observations Malawi, para. 9, UN Doc. CERD/C/63/
CO/12 (2003) (“The Committee expresses concern over the State party’s reservations
to the 1951 Convention relating to the Status of Refugees which, in particular,
reduce the protection offered to refugees in the field of employment, access to prop-
erty, right of association, education and social security. The Committee welcomes
the draft Refugee Act, which reflects the intention of the State party to withdraw
these reservations, and encourages the State party to give high priority to this
process”).
31
E.g., CERD, Australia, para. 17, UN Doc. CERD/C/304/Add.101 (2000) (“recom-
mending that the State party implement faithfully the provisions of the 1951
Convention relating to the Status of Refugees, as well as the 1967 Protocol thereto,
with a view to continuing its cooperation with the United Nations High Commissioner
for Refugees and in accordance with the guidelines in UNHCR’s Handbook on Refugee
Determination Procedures”).
32
E.g., CERD, Concluding Observations, Sri Lanka, para. 336, UN Doc. A/56/18
(2001) (“recommending dissemination of information on international humanitar-
ian law among security forces and law enforcement officers”); CERD, Concluding
Observations, Chad, para. 667, UN Doc. A/50/18 (1995) (“The Committee considers
it to be of the utmost importance to set up a training programme in humanitarian
law […] for members of the armed forces, the police, the national gendarmerie and
other State employees”).
33
E.g., CERD, Concluding Observations, Russian Federation, paras. 3, 22, UN Doc.
CERD/C/304/Add.5 (1996) (noting with satisfaction that a parliamentary group has
been mandated to investigate human rights and international humanitarian law viola-
tions in the Chechen conflict and reaffirming that persons responsible for massive,
gross and systematic human rights violations, and gross violations of international
humanitarian law, should be held responsible and prosecuted).
640 david weissbrodt

adequate measures to ensure that serious breaches of international

humanitarian law do not remain unpunished, that victims are afforded
just and adequate reparation, and that a return to normal conditions of
life occurs for displaced persons.34 CERD will also recommend that the
State party ensure security measures taken in response to ongoing vio-
lence are implemented with full respect for the relevant principles of
international humanitarian law.35 The Committee recognizes that
armed conflicts represent serious obstacles to implementation of the
Race Convention, and further, that armed conflicts often stem from
racially and ethnically motivated violence.36
Preventing or ending genocide is also central to the mission of
CERD, and international humanitarian law often receives discussion in
this context. For example, CERD expresses concern over violations of
international humanitarian law, especially in regard to ethnic cleans-
ing, stating that such actions also constitute violations of the Race
Convention.37 In the context of the genocide that occurred during the
war in Bosnia and Herzegovina, the Committee suggested integration
of Articles 4 and 6 of the Race Convention into the statutes of the State
party, to prevent further ethnic cleansing.38

34
E.g., CERD, Concluding Observations, Russian Federation, para. 25, UN Doc.
CERD/C/304/Add.43 (1998) (“seeking to ensure that serious breaches of humanitarian
law do not go unpunished, that victims are afforded adequate reparation, and that nor-
mal conditions of life return”).
35
E.g., CERD, Concluding Observations, Israel, para. 13, UN Doc. CERD/C/ISR/
CO/13 (2007) (“seeking to ensure that security measures taken in response to legiti-
mate security concerns are guided by proportionality, and do not discriminate in pur-
pose or in effect against Arab Israeli citizens, or Palestinians in the Occupied Palestinian
Territories, and that they are implemented with full respect for human rights as well as
relevant principles of international humanitarian law”).
36
CERD, Concluding Observations, Sri Lanka, para. 323, UN Doc. A/56/18 (2001)
(“recognizing that the armed conflict in the country will not be solved by military
means, and that only a negotiated political solution, which includes the participation
of all parties, will lead to peace and harmony among ethnic communities in the
island”).
37
E.g., CERD, Concluding Observations, Bosnia and Herzegovina, paras. 218–219
(1995) (“expressing profound distress over violations of international humanitarian
law committed in connection with the systematic policy of ‘ethnic cleansing’ in the
areas under the control of the self-proclaimed Bosnian Serb authorities and urging
immediate reversal beginning with voluntary return of displaced peoples”).
38
CERD, Concluding Observations, Bosnia and Herzegovina, para. 459 (1993)
(“In the context of ethnic cleansing, members of the Committee stated that article 4
had to be reflected in the Penal Code and that the Civil Code should cover Article 6,
particularly with regard to war crimes and compensation for victims of ethnic
cleansing”).
 elimination of racial discrimination641

In situations of violence, CERD continues to focus on certain vul-

nerable groups. The Committee urges States parties to recognize that
violations of international humanitarian law, and the resulting cli-
mate of impunity, may severely infringe the rights of minority com-
munities.39 Minority communities, because of their vulnerability, are
disproportionately affected by violations of international humanitarian
norms.40
Violations of international humanitarian law also receive attention
from CERD in regard to refugees and displaced persons. In one
instance, the Committee advised Ukraine to harmonize national
legislation with international legal standards concerning refugees.
Specifically, CERD noted that the Ukrainian refugee law “does not
contain standardized refugee determination criteria, a definition of
temporary humanitarian protection, or safeguards concerning the
withholding of personal data from the authorities of the country of
origin to which a rejected asylum-seeker might be deported (art. 5
(b))”.41 In other words, the Committee made compliance with Article
5(b) of the Race Convention dependent on national legislation provid-
ing a standardized definition of “refugee” and “temporary humanitar-
ian protection”. According to the Committee, fulfillment of a State
party’s obligations under Article 5 also depends on adequate national
safeguards concerning personal data about refugees. Such information
should not be transmitted back to a country from which a refugee is
fleeing because it could be used for discriminatory purposes if refugees
are forced to return.42

39
E.g., CERD, Colombia, UN Doc. CERD/C/304/Add.76 (1999) (“The Committee
expresses concern that this climate of impunity may severely impact the rights of
indigenous and Afro-Colombian communities, as these minority communities are
subjected disproportionately to violations of international human rights and humani-
tarian norms”).
40
E.g., id. See also CERD, Conclusions and Recommendations, Nigeria, paras. 306–
329, UN Doc. A/48/18 (1993).
41
See CERD, Concluding Observations, Ukraine, para. 13, UN Doc. CERD/C/
UKR/CO/18 (2006).
42
P. H. Schuck, Refugee Burden-Sharing: A Modest Proposal, 22 Yale Journal of
International Law 243, at 286 (1997) (“Refugees may want to limit uncontrolled access
to personal information about themselves, fearing not only loss of privacy but
also reprisals by their state of origin”). Schuck also notes that U.S. law protects the
confidentiality of asylum applicants by limiting disclosure of the asylum application
and identifying details. See 8 C.F.R. § 208.6 (1995).
642 david weissbrodt

International criminal tribunals also receive some attention from

CERD. These bodies are generally tasked with interpreting and
applying the law of war and of genocide–issues at the center of inter­
national humanitarian law. CERD objects to State party refusals to rec-
ognize the jurisdiction of, or to cooperate with, an international
criminal tribunal.43 The Committee also registers concern when gov-
ernments grant impunity for violators of international humanitarian
law.44 CERD has stipulated that all war crimes trials should be con-
ducted in a non-discriminatory manner, in order to comply with the
Race Convention.45 The Committee interpreted noncompliance with
an advisory opinion of the International Court of Justice to be a viola-
tion of Articles 2, 3, and 5 of the Race Convention.46
CERD rarely interprets or applies international humanitarian law.
Yet the Committee has used the Race Convention to convince States
parties to comply with international humanitarian norms.47 In its

43
See CERD, Concluding Observations, Yugoslavia, para. 241, UN Doc. A/50/18
(1995) (“It is regretted that the cooperation of the State party with the International
Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia remains insufficient and that individuals
indicted by the Tribunal for war crimes and crimes against humanity are not put at its
disposal”).
44
E.g., CERD, Yugoslavia, para. 241, UN Doc. A/50/18 (1995) (“deploring the
unwillingness of the State party to recognize the jurisdiction of the International
Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia expressing extreme concern with regard
to the apparent policy of the Government to purport to bestow impunity on perpetra-
tors of fundamental violations of international humanitarian law”).
45
See CERD, Concluding Observations, Croatia, para. 15, UN Doc. CERD/C/HRV/
CO/8 (2009) (“recommending that the State party strengthen its efforts to ensure
that all war crimes trials conducted at the national level are carried out fairly and in a
non-discriminatory manner and that all cases of war crimes are effectively investigated
and prosecuted, irrespective of the ethnicity of the victims and the perpetrators
involved”).
46
See CERD, Concluding Observations, Israel, para. 14, UN Doc. CERD/C/ISR/
CO/13 (2007) (“expressing concern at the disregard of the 2004 advisory opinion of the
International Court of Justice on the legal consequences of the construction of the wall
in the Occupied Palestinian Territories, and that the wall and its associated regime
raise serious concerns under the Convention, since they gravely infringe a number of
human rights of Palestinians residing in the territory occupied by Israel, and such
infringements cannot be justified by military exigencies or by the requirements of
national security or public order”).
47
CERD, Concluding Observations, Sri Lanka, UN Doc. A/50/18 (1995)
(“Information was requested as to whether, in its efforts to combat discrimination
within the terms of article 1 of the Convention, the Government was considering
ratification of […] Protocol II Additional to the Geneva Conventions of 12 August
1949”).
 elimination of racial discrimination643

Concluding Observations to Sri Lanka, CERD related compliance with

the Race Convention to ratification of Protocol II Additional to the
Geneva Conventions of August 12, 1949.48 CERD did so by requesting
information as to whether, in its efforts to combat racial discrimination
within the terms of the Race Convention, a State party will consider
ratification of the Geneva Protocol II.49
The Committee has interpreted international humanitarian law in
relation to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. CERD stated that “[a]ctions
that change the demographic composition of the occupied Palestinian
Territory evoke concern as violations of contemporary international
humanitarian law”.50 With this statement, CERD interprets any actions
which have the effect of forcibly changing the demographics of a con-
tested territory, to be violations of international humanitarian law.51
Additionally, the Geneva Conventions of August 12, 1949, have been
mentioned by CERD in the context of the Israeli settlement of
Palestinian Occupied Territory. In its Concluding Observations to
Israel, CERD interpreted Article 49 of the Fourth Geneva Convention
to prohibit Israeli settlements in the Palestinian Occupied Territories
because they constitute a “mass forcible transfer” of a population.52
These two instances demonstrate that CERD interprets international

48
Id., Protocol II governs the treatment of civilian populations during internal
armed conflict. During the time of the report cited, the Sri Lankan government was
battling the insurgency of the Tamil Tigers. CERD’s request for information suggests
that Sri Lanka should ratify Protocol II to protect civilian populations affected by the
conflict. CERD can recommend the ratification of other human rights treaties, but it
did not do so here.
49
Id.
50
CERD, Concluding Observations, Israel, para. 10, UN Doc. CERD/C/304/
Add.45 (1998) (“Actions that change the demographic composition of the Occupied
Palestinian Territory evoke concern as violations of contemporary international
humanitarian law”).
51
CERD, Concluding Observations, Israel, para. 14, UN Doc. CERD/C/ISR/CO/13
(2007) (“reiterating that the Israeli settlements in the Occupied Palestinian Territories
are illegal under international law and an obstacle to the enjoyment of human rights by
the whole population; and that actions that change the demographic composition of
the Occupied Palestinian Territories are also of concern as violations of human rights
and international humanitarian law”).
52
CERD, Concluding Observations, Israel, para. 75, UN Doc. A/49/18 (1994)
(“In that regard, the Committee noted that the establishment of Jewish settlements
in the occupied territories was illegal under international law (particularly Art. 49 of
the Fourth Geneva Convention) and constituted a threat to peace and security in the
region”).
644 david weissbrodt

humanitarian law to prohibit settlement of an occupied territory

because it constitutes “mass forcible transfer” of a population.
The Committee has also made requests for adherence to interna-
tional humanitarian law in the context of the fight against terrorism. In
response to its periodic report, CERD asked the United States to ensure
that non-citizens, detained or arrested in the fight against terrorism,
are effectively protected by national law, in compliance with interna-
tional human rights, refugee and humanitarian law.53 The Committee
expressed regret that the United States did not consider the Race
Convention applicable to foreign detainees held as “enemy combat-
ants”.54 CERD urged the United States to “adopt all necessary measures
to guarantee the right of foreign detainees held as ‘enemy combatants’
to judicial review of the lawfulness and conditions of detention, as well
as their right to remedy for human rights violations”.55 The lack of pro-
tection for non-citizen detainees under U.S. domestic law was found to
be a violation of international humanitarian law.56

III. Summary as to CERD Concluding Observations

CERD utilizes human rights instruments outside of the Race Con­
vention to persuade States parties to comply with the Race Convention.
The Committee also cites the ratification of specific treaties, or lack
thereof, in assessing the actual environment within the State party, with
a view towards ensuring that States parties abide by the principles of
non-discrimination. In discussing other international human rights
treaties and conventions, CERD focuses on vulnerable groups who
are most frequently victims of ethnic and racial discrimination or vio-
lence. Although CERD frequently mentions human rights instruments

53
CERD, Concluding Observations, United States of America, para. 24, UN Doc.
CERD/C/USA/CO/6 (2008) (“requesting that the State party ensure non-citizens
detained or arrested in the fight against terrorism are effectively protected by domes-
tic law, in compliance with international human rights, refugee and humanitarian
law”).
54
Id., para. 24 (“The Committee regrets the position taken by the State party that
the Convention is not applicable to the treatment of foreign detainees held as ‘enemy
combatants’, on the basis of the argument that the law of armed conflict is the exclusive
lex specialis applicable, and that in any event the Convention ‘would be inapplicable to
allegations of unequal treatment of foreign detainees’ in accordance to article 1, para-
graph 2, of the Convention”).
55
Id., para. 24.
56
Id.
 elimination of racial discrimination645

­ utside of the Race Convention, its Concluding Observations offer lit-

o
tle substantive analysis of international humanitarian law. Mention of
international humanitarian norms or instruments generally come in
the context of armed conflict, genocide, or terrorism. These citations
primarily concentrate on refugees and displaced persons, in attempts
to ensure that these groups are protected during times of instability.
CERD also places emphasis on cooperation with international tribu-
nals, as they are a primary means by which the principles of the Race
Convention can be enforced. Less frequently, the Committee interprets
certain actions to be in violation of international humanitarian law.
Such occurrences seem to exist primarily to compel States parties to
comply with the Race Convention. The Committee should use all
means available to make compliance with the Race Convention more
certain. Pointing to violations of international humanitarian law may
be an effective method to coax States parties into compliance with the
Convention because of the additional weight international humanitar-
ian law carries.

D. CERD General Recommendations

Although the General Recommendations issued by CERD contain

many references to international human rights law, they contain only
three references to international humanitarian law. In 1994, CERD rec-
ommended that an international tribunal with general jurisdiction
should be established to prosecute genocide, crimes against humanity,
other inhumane acts directed against any civilian population, and
breaches of the Geneva Conventions of 1949 and the Additional
Protocols of 1977.57 This recommendation for the establishment of an
international criminal tribunal came soon after U.N. Security Council
resolution 872 of May 25, 1993, which established an international

57
CERD, General Recommendation 18, The establishment of an international
tribunal to prosecute crimes against humanity, para. 1, UN Doc. A/49/18 at 19 (1994)
(“Considers that an international tribunal with general jurisdiction should be estab-
lished urgently to prosecute genocide, crimes against humanity, including murder,
extermination, enslavement, deportation, imprisonment, torture, rape persecutions
on political, racial and religious grounds and other inhumane acts directed against
any civilian population, and grave breaches of the Geneva Conventions of 1949 and the
Additional Protocols of 1977 thereto.”).
646 david weissbrodt

tribunal for the purpose of prosecuting persons responsible for seri-

ous violations of international humanitarian law committed in the
territory of the former Yugoslavia.58 General Recommendation 18,
therefore, anticipated the creation of the International Criminal Court
in 2002.59
In General Recommendation 22, the Committee noted that ethnic
conflicts have resulted in massive flows of refugees and displaced per-
sons in many parts of the world.60 It went on to state that the 1951
Convention and the 1967 Protocol relating to the status of refugees are
the main sources of international law for the protection of refugees in
general.61 The Committee also delineated a number of obligations with
respect to refugees that States parties must accept.62 Further, in General
Recommendation 30, CERD outlined its expectations for States parties
in regard to non-citizens, a vulnerable group on which the Committee
focuses much of its attention.63 CERD expects that States parties ensure
the security of non-citizens, in particular with regard to arbitrary
detention, and guarantee that conditions in centers for refugees and
asylum-seekers meet international standards.64 CERD also insists that
non-citizens detained or arrested in the fight against terrorism are pro-
tected by national laws that comply with international human rights,
refugee, and humanitarian laws.65
In sum, CERD’s General Recommendations contain scant references
to international humanitarian law. The only three references found
involve refugees, non-citizens detained in the fight against terrorism,
and international criminal courts. These references advocate for adher-
ence to general human rights and humanitarian norms.

58
SC Res. 827 of 25 May 1993.
59
Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, 17 July 1998, 2187 UNTS 90
(2002).
60
See CERD, General Recommendation 22, Refugees and displaced persons, UN
Doc. A/51/18, annex VIII, 126 (1996).
61
Id.
62
Id.
63
CERD, General Recommendation 30, Discrimination against Non-citizens, para.
19, UN Doc. CERD/C/64/Misc.11/rev.3 (2004) (“Ensure the security of non-citizens,
in particular with regard to arbitrary detention, as well as ensure that conditions in
centres for refugees and asylum-seekers meet international standards”); CERD,
General Recommendation 30, Discrimination against Non-citizens, para. 20, UN Doc.
CERD/C/64/Misc.11/rev.3 (2004) (“Ensure that non-citizens detained or arrested in
the fight against terrorism are properly protected by domestic law that complies with
international human rights, refugee and humanitarian law”).
64
Id.
65
Id.
 elimination of racial discrimination647

E. CERD Early-Warning Measures and Urgent Procedures

In 1993, CERD began to include in its regular agenda early-warning

measures and urgent procedures aimed at preventing serious violations
of the Race Convention.66 Early-warning measures are directed at pre-
venting existing problems from escalating into conflicts, particularly in
the wake of prior violence.67 The urgent procedures respond to situa-
tions requiring immediate attention in order to prevent or limit the
magnitude of violations of the Race Convention.68 Because the proce-
dural decisions respond to violations, often in the context of armed
conflict and genocide, they frequently refer to international humani-
tarian law. This Part considers how the Committee has addressed inter-
national humanitarian law issues raised in early warning measures and
urgent procedures, finding that the Committee refers to international
humanitarian law because violence and genocide often arise from
racial and ethnic discrimination. Discrimination can easily lead to
racially and ethnically motivated violence, which, in turn, may escalate
into genocide.69

I. CERD’s Approach to International Humanitarian Law in

Early-Warning Measures and Urgent Procedures
CERD often considers humanitarian law in its early-warning measures
and urgent procedures. Violations of international humanitarian law
and the Race Convention often occur in tandem in the context of
armed conflict or genocide.70 The Committee, at times, stresses that

66
CERD, Early-Warning Measures and Urgent Procedures, available at http://
www2.ohchr.org/english/bodies/cerd/early-warning.htm#about.
67
Id.
68
Id.
69
E.g., CERD, Procedural Decisions, Guyana, para. 4, UN Doc. CERD/C/64/
Dec.1 (2004) (“The Committee agrees with intergovernmental and non-governmental
organisations and United Nations agencies that a vicious circle of political and ethnic
tensions has adversely affected human rights, weakened civil society, increased racial
violence and poverty and exclusion among indigenous population groups, and ham-
pered the administration of justice and the application of human rights standards in
Guyana”).
70
E.g., CERD, Situation in Darfur, Sudan, para. 1(65), UN Doc. CERD/C/65/
(2004) (“Taking note of resolution 1556/2004 adopted by the Security Council
on 30 July 2004, which solemnly condemned ‘all acts of violence and violations
of human rights and international humanitarian law by all parties to the crisis, in
particular by the Janjaweed, including indiscriminate attacks on civilians, rapes,
forced displacements, and acts of violence especially those with an ethnic dimension,
and expressing its utmost concern at the consequences of the conflict in Darfur on
648 david weissbrodt

racial and ethnic conflicts can only be brought to an end by restoring

respect for all human rights, including those norms protecting equality
and non-discrimination, and precepts of international humanitarian
law.71
Especially in the context of ethnic violence, CERD will express con-
cern at continuing violations of international human rights and
humanitarian law,72 or call on a government engaged in a conflict to
respect its legal obligations.73 The Committee also expresses concern
over reports from other human rights bodies showing serious viola-
tions of international humanitarian law, uses these decisions to support
its own recommendations, and provides evidence of recent and ongo-
ing violations of international humanitarian law.74
The Committee uses reports from other international human rights
bodies to reinforce its requests that racial and ethnic violence cease.75

the civilian population, including women, children, internally displaced persons, and
refugees’, [the Committee] calls for strict compliance with Security Council resolu-
tion 1556/2004 and all measures that it prescribed, in order to ensure the prompt ces-
sation of large-scale violations of human rights in Darfur, and in particular, viola-
tions of the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial
Discrimination”).
71
E.g., CERD, Procedural Decisions, Yugoslavia, para. 1(54), UN Doc. A/54/18
(1999) (“recommending immediate respect to all human rights, including those pro-
tecting equality and non-discrimination, as well as to the norms of international
humanitarian law and the rule of law”).
72
E.g., CERD, Procedural Decisions, Rwanda, para. 21(3), UN Doc. A/54/18 (1999)
(“expressing concern at the continued serious violations of human rights and interna-
tional humanitarian law in the country”).
73
E.g., CERD, Procedural Decisions, Rwanda, para. 4, UN Doc. A/53/18 (1998)
(“urging respect for humanitarian law obligations at all times”).
74
E.g., CERD, Procedural Decisions, Democratic Republic of the Congo, para.
19(2), UN Doc. A/52/18 (1997) (“The Committee is disturbed by reports of massacres
and other grave human rights violations, including violations of the Convention on the
Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination in the Democratic Republic of the
Congo. Such reports, in particular the report submitted by the joint mission estab-
lished by the Commission on Human Rights in its resolution 1997/58 of 15 April 1997,
charged with investigating allegations of massacres and other human rights violations
occurring in the eastern part of Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of the Congo)
since September 1996 (A/51/942 of 2 July 1997) were discussed. The findings in that
report, according to which there were ‘reliable indications that persons belonging to
one or other of the parties to the conflict in eastern Zaire, now the Democratic Republic
of the Congo, probably committed serious violations of international humanitarian
law […]’ (para. 95); that ‘crimes seem to be sufficiently massive and systematic to be
characterized as crimes against humanity’ (para. 95); and that the ‘ethnic identity of
most of the victims is a matter of record’ (para. 96) were particularly noted”).
75
CERD, Procedural Decisions, Democratic Republic of the Congo, para. 2, UN
Doc. A/54/18 (1999) (noting recommendations of the Commission on Human Rights
and communiqué issued by the Central Organ of the Mechanism for Conflict
Prevention, Management and Resolution of the Organization of African Unity and
 elimination of racial discrimination649

In connection with the Congolese conflict, CERD cited recommenda-

tions from the U.N. Commission on Human Rights (or Human Rights
Council) and communiqués issued by the Organization of African
Unity to support its recommendations for an immediate cessation of
hostilities, an end to the persistent campaign of incitement to racial
and ethnic hatred, and the prompt conclusion of the conflict through a
negotiated peaceful settlement between the parties.76
In reaction to the crisis in Bosnia and Herzegovina, CERD made
general reference to international human rights law and international
humanitarian law in an attempt to end the ethnic cleansing occurring
in the area.77 The Committee stated that any attempt to change the
demographic composition of an area, against the will of the original
inhabitants, by whatever means, is a violation of international human
rights and humanitarian law.78
In response to the genocide in Darfur, CERD requested that the
Sudanese authorities perform a number of tasks aimed at ending the
ongoing ethnic violence. The Committee urged any police, security,
paramilitary, or civil defense forces acting with the support of the Suda­
nese government, or under Sudanese military control, to respect inter-
national humanitarian law and human rights, including the provisions
of the Race Convention.79 In addition, the Committee recommended
that States parties give effect to the Guiding Principles on Internal
Displacement of the Special Representative of the Secretary-General.80
Further, CERD requested that the Sudanese government fulfill its

urging all the participants in the Congolese conflict to ensure the immediate cessation
of all hostilities, an end to the persistent campaign of incitement to racial and ethnic
hatred, and the prompt conclusion of the conflict through a negotiated peaceful settle-
ment between the parties).
76
Id.
77
CERD, Procedural Decisions, Yugoslavia, para. 2, UN Doc. A/54/18 (1999)
(“In the light of recent events in Kosovo the Committee […] calls particular attention
to the following: (a) Any attempt to change or to uphold a changed demographic com-
position of an area against the will of the original inhabitants, by whatever means, is a
violation of international human rights and humanitarian law […]”).
78
Id.
79
CERD, Procedural Decisions, Sudan, para. 21(5), UN Doc. A/54/18 (1999) (“[t]o
ensure that its police and security forces, and any paramilitary or civil defence forces
acting with the support of the Government or under Sudanese military command,
respect human rights and humanitarian law, including the provisions of the Convention,
and that all those responsible for violations of any of the obligations contained therein
are brought to justice”).
80
The Guiding Principles indicate that displaced persons should have the right
freely to return to their homes of origin under conditions of safety, to have any prop-
erty that was seized in the course of the conflict restored to them, and to participate
equally in public affairs upon their return. CERD, Procedural Decisions, Sudan,
650 david weissbrodt

obligations under international humanitarian law in general, and

under Article 3 common to the Geneva Conventions in particular.81
Because CERD’s early warning measures and urgent procedures
focus on preventing or ending gross violations of human rights,
­references to international humanitarian law generally occur in the
context of genocide or ethnic violence. It appears that CERD discusses
violations of humanitarian norms to assist in preventing and ending
gross human rights violations.

II. CERD’s Focus on Vulnerable Groups: Refugees,

Detainees, and Displaced Persons
The safe repatriation of refugees and return of displaced persons are
also primary concerns in CERD’s early-warning measures and urgent
procedures.82 The Committee requests that States parties respect norms
of international humanitarian law concerning refugees, focusing on
the safe and voluntary repatriation of refugees and the return of dis-
placed persons to their places of origin.83 The Committee has also
demanded that States parties ensure the safety of all detained persons
under the state’s control, and disclose any information regarding
­missing persons.84 CERD even goes so far as to call upon the United
Nations and the Red Cross for assistance in safeguarding refugees and
detainees.85 Refugees, displaced persons, and detainees are all groups

para. 21(5), UN Doc. A/54/18 (1999) (“urging effective steps to protect internally dis-
placed communities by giving effect to the provisions of the Guiding Principles on
Internal Displacement”).
81
CERD, Procedural Decisions, Sudan, para. 21(5), UN Doc. A/54/18 (1999) (“[t]o
respect its obligations under humanitarian law, particularly Article 3 common to the
Geneva Conventions of 12 August 1949 and customary international law applicable
to internal armed conflicts”).
82
E.g., CERD, Procedural Decisions, Bosnia and Herzegovina, para. 26(2) UN
Doc. A/50/18 (1995) (“urging that persons be given the opportunity to return safely
to the places they inhabited before the beginning of the conflict and that their safety
be guaranteed”).
83
Id.
84
CERD, Procedural Decisions, Bosnia and Herzegovina, para. 26(2) UN Doc.
A/50/18 (1995) (“demanding that all parties to the conflicts fully ensure the safety
of all detained persons under their control and disclose all information concerning
all missing persons”).
85
CERD, Procedural Decisions, Bosnia and Herzegovina, para. 26(2) UN Doc.
A/50/18 (1995) (“[u]rgently […] call[s] upon the international community, in par­
ticular all the European States, to render assistance to refugees and detained per-
sons directly and through the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, the
International Committee of the Red Cross and all other organizations involved in
assistance to refugees”).
 elimination of racial discrimination651

vulnerable to ethnic violence;86 therefore, CERD pays special attention

to their well-being.
For example, in response to ethnic violence in the Great Lakes
Region of Africa, CERD supported the initiatives of the United Nations
High Commissioner for Human Rights and the United Nations High
Commissioner for Refugees to end the warfare and protect the human
rights of all people affected by the violence, especially refugees.87 In
reaction to the ethnic conflict in Burundi, CERD called upon States
parties to cooperate closely with the United Nations High Commissioner
for Refugees and the United Nations High Commissioner for Human
Rights to provide refugees and displaced persons with the possibility of
returning to their homes under their own free will and in safety.88
Also in its decisions and recommendations under the early warning
measures and urgent procedures, the Committee has reiterated that
any attempt to change the demographic composition of an area against
the will of the original inhabitants is a violation of international human
rights and international humanitarian law.89 Specifically, CERD con-
siders Israeli settlements in the Palestinian Occupied Territories to
be illegal under international law, and an obstacle to peace and enjoy-
ment of human rights by the whole population in the region.90 In this

86
General Recommendation 30 (note 63), Preamble (noting that xenophobia
against non-nationals–particularly migrants, refugees, and asylum-seekers–
constitutes one of the main sources of contemporary racism and that human rights
violations against members of such groups occur widely in the context of discrimina-
tory, xenophobic, and racist practices).
87
CERD, Procedural Decisions, Burundi, UN Doc. A/51/18 (1996) (“welcoming
the initiatives undertaken by the United Nations High Commissioner for Human
Rights and the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees”).
88
CERD, Procedural Decisions, Burundi, UN Doc. A/51/18 (1996) (“[The
Committee] [c]alls upon all the Burundian parties to cooperate closely with the
United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees and the United Nations High
Commissioner for Human Rights, as well as with the neighbouring countries, and to
provide the refugees and displaced persons with the possibility of returning to their
homes of their own free will and in safety”).
89
Id.
90
CERD, Procedural Decisions, Israel, para. 2, UN Doc. A/52/18 (1997) (“The
Committee confirms its view that the Israeli settlements in the occupied territories
are not only illegal under international law but also an obstacle to peace and the enjoy-
ment of human rights by the whole population in the region […] [and] expresses its
serious concern that the continuing policies of expansion of settlements and notably
the establishment of an Israeli settlement on Jabal Abu Ghenaim in East Jerusalem,
all of which change the physical character and demographic composition of the occu-
pied territories, including Jerusalem, give rise to increasing tensions in the region and
jeopardize the peace process”).
652 david weissbrodt

context, the Committee interprets Article 33 of the Fourth Geneva

Convention to prohibit the blocking of reimbursement fees and reve-
nues to the Palestinian Authority because it amounts to illegal collec-
tive punishment.91

III. Implementation Mechanisms: CERD’s Reliance

on International Tribunals
After serious violations of international humanitarian law and the Race
Convention have occurred, CERD urges States parties to cooperate
fully with International Criminal Tribunals,92 as well as pursue appro-
priate measures at the national level to bring violators to justice.93
International criminal tribunals provide one of the few enforcement
mechanisms for violations of international humanitarian law.94 Since
these violations often occur in the context of racially and ethnically
motivated violence, CERD has an interest in ensuring that States par-
ties comply with the tribunals. Cooperation with the tribunals entails

91
CERD, Procedural Decisions, Israel, para. 4, UN Doc. A/52/18 (1997) (“The
Committee rejects the closures and blocking of reimbursement of fees and revenues to
the Palestinian Authority, imposed by the Israeli authorities on the occupied territories
in the wake of the dreadful suicide bombings in Jerusalem on 30 July 1997, that amount
to collective punishment contrary to article 33 of the Fourth Geneva Convention.
Those closures and related measures severely restrict the movement of people and
goods in Gaza and the West Bank and result in depriving large numbers of Palestinians
from their legal employment and in blocking essential revenues and customs duties
owed to the Palestinian Authority. The measures taken by Israel have a devastating
effect on the life and well-being of the Arab population of the occupied territories and
cause great suffering”).
92
E.g., CERD, Procedural Decisions, Bosnia and Herzegovina, para. 4, UN Doc.
A/51/18 (1996) (“The Committee urges all parties to the General Framework
Agreement for Peace in Bosnia and Herzegovina to comply with their obligation to
cooperate fully with the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia in
fulfilling its major task of bringing to justice all persons guilty of the serious crimes
falling within its jurisdiction and in particular to execute forthwith all warrants of
arrest and expedite the transfer of the persons indicted by the Tribunal”).
93
E.g., CERD, Procedural Decisions, Bosnia and Herzegovina, para. 19, UN Doc.
A/52/18 (1997) (“The Committee again urges all parties to the Peace Agreement to
comply with their obligation to cooperate fully with the [International Criminal
Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia] in fulfilling its task of bringing to justice all per-
sons guilty of the serious crimes falling within its jurisdiction and, in particular, to
execute forthwith all warrants of arrests and expedite the transfer of the persons
indicted by the Tribunal”).
94
Other implementation mechanisms include regional tribunals, individual com-
plaint mechanisms, economic sanctions, and international embarrassment. For a more
complete discussion on human rights enforcement see D. Weissbrodt et al, International
Human Rights: Law, Policy and Process, chapters 4, 6 (4th ed. 2009).
 elimination of racial discrimination653

bringing to justice all persons guilty of the serious crimes falling within
the State party’s jurisdiction, promptly executing all warrants of arrest,
and expediting the transfer of persons indicted by the tribunal.95 CERD
also encourages States parties to prosecute violations of international
humanitarian law at the national level.

F. Conclusion

In sum, the following generalizations can be made about CERD’s

jurisprudence. CERD’s statements in its procedural decisions express
the realization that ethnic discrimination can be the first step to ethnic
cleansing. CERD’s decisions and recommendations in response to
individual complaints contain very few references to international
instruments outside the Race Convention. The Committee rarely has
the opportunity to address violations of other human rights instru-
ments because petitioners only bring complaints alleging violations
of the Race Convention. In its Concluding Observations, CERD fre-
quently points to human rights instruments other than the Race
Convention. The Concluding Observations, however, rarely discuss
international humanitarian law in-depth. The Committee treats inter-
national humanitarian law primarily as a tool to guarantee proper
implementation of the Race Convention. In its General Recom­men­
dations, CERD only discusses international humanitarian law three
times. These three General Recommendations demonstrate CERD’s
attempts to employ international humanitarian norms to ensure that
susceptible minority groups are protected from discrimination.
Although these references show variability in the Committee’s use of
international humanitarian law in regard to its Individual Complaints,
General Recommendations, Concluding Observations, and its own
early warning measures and urgent procedures, a few general themes
run throughout the decisions and recommendations of the Committee.
CERD applies the principles of the Race Convention to the human
rights contained in all the instruments that comprise international
human rights and humanitarian law; focuses on protecting vulnerable
groups such as refugees, displaced persons, non-citizens, and other
minority groups; and urges cooperation and compliance with interna-
tional tribunals.

95
See CERD, Procedural Decisions, Bosnia and Herzegovina (note 93), para. 19.
654 david weissbrodt

CERD’s use of international humanitarian instruments to imple-

ment the Race Convention deserves recognition, but the variability
with which it utilizes such instruments does not afford much predict-
ability. It is difficult to anticipate CERD’s use of international humani-
tarian law when issuing a decision or recommendation. CERD,
however, generally applies any international instruments at its disposal
to protect relatively powerless minority groups, and nearly always rec-
ommends cooperation with international criminal tribunals. Still,
CERD should attempt a more uniform approach to international
humanitarian law in its decisions and recommendations. Consistent
use of international humanitarian norms and instruments by the vari-
ous U.N. treaty bodies would create a more uniform body of law which
could be more readily employed to prevent and end atrocities and
human rights violations.
 Part III

Global Commons
 The Principle of Reasonableness in the Law
of the Sea

David Anderson

From the outset of his professional life, Rüdiger Wolfrum has made an
important contribution to the study of the governance of the global
commons, including the high seas. For instance, in “Die
Internationalisierung staatsfreier Räume: Die Entwicklung einer inter-
nationalen Verwaltung für Antarktis, Weltraum, Hohe See und
Meeresboden”, one of his earliest published works, he analysed the con-
cept of community interests in the resources of the high seas and the
principle of the reasonable use of such resources.1 Reasonable use is
one aspect of the wider principle of reasonableness in its application to
the law of the sea. Over the succeeding decades, the international com-
munity has witnessed many further stages in the development of the
regime of the high seas, to several of which Rüdiger Wolfrum has made
contributions as a teacher, diplomat, writer and judge. This contribu-
tion to the Festschrift in his honour outlines some of these develop-
ments: after first considering the “reasonable regard” test for resolving
conflicting uses of the high seas, some aspects of reasonableness in the
law of the sea will be surveyed.

A. Emergence of the “Reasonable Regard” Test

In 1949, the International Law Commission (ILC or Commission)

began work on the codification and progressive development of the
law relating to the high seas. The Commission had before it a
Memorandum, widely attributed to Professor Gidel, which discussed
not only the principle of the freedom of the seas and the exceptions
under customary and conventional law, but also the need for
correct and rational use of the seas and for safeguarding the common

1
 R. Wolfrum, Die Internationalisierung staatsfreier Räume: Die Entwicklung einer
internationalen Verwaltung für Antarktis, Weltraum, Hohe See und Meeresboden
(1984).
658 david anderson

interests of all States in the high seas.2 Initially, Professor François,

the Special Rapporteur, drafted a proposal which simply listed the
different freedoms of the high seas without attempting to provide
for their correct or rational use and without including any
qualifications.
Discussions of the proposal in the Commission were marked by dif-
ferences over the then-current use of the high seas for testing nuclear
weapons–an issue that was already giving rise to political controversy
worldwide. Such tests in the atmosphere and under water were later
prohibited by the Partial Test Ban Treaty of 1963. However, during the
1950s testing States still followed the practice, developed in the pre-
nuclear era for weapons-testing, of issuing general warnings to other
States and their ships to avoid navigating between specified dates in
defined areas of the high seas in which tests were to be conducted.
Other States questioned the lawfulness of the practice. In response to
the initial exchanges in the Commission, the Rapporteur put forward
for discussion the following text:
“The freedom of the high seas does not include the right to utilize the
high seas in a manner which unreasonably prevents other States from
enjoying that freedom. Scientific research and tests of new weapons on
the high seas are only permitted subject to this qualification.”3
In this way, the proposal introduced, albeit in a negative formulation,
the concept of reasonableness into the debate. The Rapporteur noted
that the concept had been advocated by Professor McDougal,
who had argued that reasonableness was “the test by which the
decision-makers of the world community have in modern times adju-
dicated all controversies involving conflicts between claims to naviga-
tion and fishing and other claims”.4 In discussion in the Commission,
the Rapporteur’s proposed text was criticized on the grounds that
States violating the freedom of the seas might be encouraged by
the wording to claim that what amounted, in the view of the critics, to
violations of established principles were nevertheless somehow “rea-
sonable”.5 The proposed test of reasonableness was not accepted by

2
UN Doc. A/CN.4/32 of 14 July 1950, in Yearbook of the International Law
Commission 1950, Vol. II, UN Doc. A/CN.4/SER.A/1950/Add.1 (1957), at 67 ff.
3
 Mr François, Yearbook of the International Law Commission 1956, Vol. II, UN
Doc. A/CN.4/SER.A/1956/Add.1 (1957), at 10.
4
 M. S. McDougal, The Hydrogen Bomb Tests and the International Law of the Sea,
49 American Journal of International Law 356, at 361 (1955).
5
 Mr Zourek, Yearbook of the International Law Commission 1956, Vol. I (1956), at
12.
 the principle of reasonableness in the law of the sea659

the Commission for inclusion in a future Convention. Instead, the

Commission’s final draft articles of 1956 included an article simply
listing in a non-exclusive formulation some of the freedoms of the
high seas, but without making any reference to the principle of rea-
sonableness or including any qualification in favour of the general
interest.6
This unfinished debate was taken up again by delegations at the
Geneva Conference in 1958. There, Yugoslavia proposed to introduce a
rule that “States are bound to refrain from any acts which might
adversely affect the use of the high seas by nationals of other States”.7
Brazil tabled an amendment that “[a]ll States shall use the waters of the
high seas in such a way as not to interfere unduly with their use by
other States”.8 Both amendments were opposed and eventually rejected
as going too far. A third proposed amendment to add a new sentence
to the Commission’s draft article was submitted by the United Kingdom,
as follows:
“These freedoms, and others which are recognized by the general princi-
ples of international law, shall be exercised by all States with reasonable
regard to the interests of other States in their exercise of the freedom of
the high seas.”9
This paragraph re-introduced the concept of reasonableness, this time
in a positive formulation, while avoiding the tests of “adverse effects”
and “undue interference” favoured by Yugoslavia and Brazil. The stand-
ard of “reasonable regard” was flexible: it permitted some adverse
effects and some interference with the rights of other users. The pro-
posal met with both support and opposition from different delegations.
Among the supporters, the United States argued that “the test of rea-
sonableness […] had since time immemorial been used to determine
whether the high seas were being used legally or illegally”, noting also
that use of the high seas by nationals of one State affected the use of the
same waters by nationals of other States.10 For the critics, India pointed
to the subjective nature of the proposed test. In the Committee, where

6
Draft article 27, see supra note 3, at 278.
7
UN Doc. A/CONF.13/C.2/L.15 of 20 March 1958, in I UNCLOS Vol. IV (Second
Committee), at 119 (1958).
8
UN Doc. A/CONF.13/C.2/L.66 of 25 March 1958, in I UNCLOS Vol. IV (Second
Committee), at 133 (1958).
9
UN Doc. A/CONF.13/C.2/L.68 of 26 March 1958, in I UNCLOS Vol. IV (Second
Committee), at 134 (1958).
10
 Official Records of the U.N. Conference on the Law of the Sea, 16th meeting (26
March 1958), I UNCLOS Vol. IV (Second Committee), at 41 (1958).
660 david anderson

a simple majority was required for adoption, the new paragraph was
adopted by a vote of 30 in favour, 18 opposed and 9 abstentions: it was
included in the draft article submitted to the plenary, where it was
adopted without opposition (50-0-1) as the final sentence of Article 2
of the Convention. To complete the story of the First Conference, it
may be recalled that the Convention on the High Seas, expressed in
its preamble to be a codification of international law, entered into force
in 1962.
The “reasonable regard” test requires a State which is contemplating
a particular use of the high seas to consider the interests of other
States in their own use of the high seas and to adjust or qualify its activ-
ity (whether in method or manner or in point of place or time)
so as to avoid or minimize unnecessary interference with others.
However, in this test there is no prohibition of any particular activity or
of all interference. Professors McDougal and Burke described
the “reasonable regard” formula as seeming to be “a substantial
improvement upon the one recommended by the [ILC] and
to represent distinct progress in evolution of an international law of the
sea that serves the common interest”. They noted that the standard of
reasonableness would require continual definition and re-
definition because of new uses of the high seas.11 In practice, as
Professor Bowett pointed out, re-definition came about through
the adoption of new international agreements regulating particular
uses.12
It was perhaps unfortunate that, both in the Commission and during
the Conference, the controversial issue of nuclear testing dominated
the discussion of the general principle since it is a principle which
has general relevance to the regulation of all conflicting uses of the high
seas.13 The question of the lawfulness of such tests arose once again
during argument in the Nuclear Tests Cases (New Zealand v. France)
before the International Court of Justice. In response to a question
from the Bench, Counsel for New Zealand expressed the view that
“[t]he use of the high seas for a purpose which is condemned by the
international community can never be a reasonable or legitimate

11
 M. S. McDougal/W. T. Burke, The Public Order of the Oceans, at 778 (1962).
12
D. W. Bowett, The Law of the Sea, at 62 (1967).
13
The Conference referred the question of testing to the UN General Assembly as
an issue to do with disarmament.
 the principle of reasonableness in the law of the sea661

use”.14 This proposition was later endorsed by Judge Nelson as having

two important functions, first in reducing the subjective element
in the concept of reasonableness and secondly by providing a mecha-
nism for securing the interests of the international community,
namely the manifestation of the collective will through an international
body.15

B. The Application of the “Reasonable Regard” Test

in Case Law

A decade later, the issue of reasonable use of the high seas arose in the
context of disputes about high seas fishing rights during what was
a rather confused period immediately before the acceptance into
international law of the new concept of the Exclusive Economic Zone
(EEZ). In 1972, the disputes between Iceland, on the one hand, and the
United Kingdom (UK) and the Federal Republic of Germany (FRG),
on the other were referred to the International Court of Justice
(Court or ICJ). In the Fisheries Jurisdiction cases, the Court held that
Iceland, by unilaterally extending its exclusive fisheries limits and
attempting to enforce the new limits against fishermen from the
UK and the FRG, had infringed “the principle enshrined in Article 2 of
the 1958 Geneva Convention on the High Seas which requires that
all States […] in exercising their freedom of fishing, pay reasonable
regard to the interests of other States”.16 Since Iceland had not become
a party to the Geneva Conventions, this statement by the Court
must have represented a finding under customary international law.
Despite its somewhat chequered history in the ILC and later in
the Committee stage at the First UN Conference on the Law of the
Sea, the “reasonable regard” test was endorsed in the Court’s judg
ment as a principle of both customary and conventional inter
national law.

14
ICJ Pleadings, Nuclear Test Cases, Vol. II, at 432 (1974). The case was decided on
other grounds.
15
 L. D. M. Nelson, Certain Aspects of the Legal Regime of the High Seas, in:
Y. Dinstein/M. Tabory (eds.), International Law at a Time of Perplexity: Essays in
Honour of Shabtai Rosenne, 519, at 528 (1989).
16
Fisheries Jurisdiction (UK v. Iceland), ICJ Reports 1974, 3, 29; Fisheries Jurisdiction
(FRG v. Iceland), ICJ Reports 1974, 175, 198.
662 david anderson

In a later passage, the judgment states:

“It is one of the advances in maritime international law, resulting from
the intensification of fishing, that the former laissez-faire treatment of the
living resources of the sea in the high seas has been replaced by a recogni-
tion of a duty to have due regard to the rights of other States and the
needs of conservation for the benefit of all.”17
The Court’s dictum illustrates the role of reasonableness as a legal prin-
ciple in the law of the sea. The test of reasonableness applies to relations
between two or more States, as well as between every State and the
international community of States as a whole.

C. The “Due Regard” Test in the UN Convention on the Law

of the Sea

The Third UN Conference on the Law of the Sea was in session when
the Court delivered its judgment in the Fisheries Jurisdiction cases in
July 1974, but in practice the decision had little impact on the on-going
negotiations in a Conference which was engaged more in law reform
than codification. The Conference both retained and developed further
the principle of reasonable use.18 First, it adopted Article 87 (2) in the
following terms:
“These freedoms shall be exercised by all States with due regard for the
interests of other States in their exercise of the freedom of the high seas,
and also with due regard for the rights under this Convention with
respect to activities in the Area.”
In adopting (through a decision of the Drafting Committee) the term
“due regard”, the text follows the wording of the second passage from
the Court’s judgment in the Fisheries Jurisdiction case and thus departs
from the Geneva formula of “reasonable regard”. However, the differ-
ence appears to be purely semantic and the test remains in essence one
of reasonableness. As the learned editors of the Virginia Commentary
put it, the standard “requires all States […] to be aware of and consider
the interests of other States in using the high seas, and to refrain from

17
Id., at 31 (UK) and at 200 (FRG).
 For an authoritative account, see Nelson (note 15). See also D. Anderson, Modern
18

Law of the Sea–Selected Essays, at 229 (Chapter 12: Freedoms of the High Seas in the
Modern Law of the Sea) (2008).
 the principle of reasonableness in the law of the sea663

activities that interfere with the exercise by other States of the freedom
of the high seas”.19
Secondly, the Conference extended the scope of the principle of rea-
sonable use to the new regime for the mineral resources of the deep
seabed contained in Part XI of the Convention. The former freedom to
take minerals from the seabed was replaced by the regime in Part XI of
the Convention, as implemented by the Agreement of 1994.20 As part of
the mining regime set out in Part XI, the “due regard” test features in
Article 142 (1) which provides that:
“Activities in the Area, with respect to resource deposits in the Area
which lie across limits of national jurisdiction, shall be conducted with
due regard to the rights and legitimate interests of any coastal State across
whose jurisdiction such deposits lie.”
The Third Conference also had the difficult task of grafting the concept
of the Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ) on to the pre-existing law of the
sea, as a new maritime zone between the territorial sea and the high
seas. One particularly delicate issue was how to regulate the position of
vessels of third States when present in a foreign EEZ. Part of the solu-
tion found to this issue was to apply the “due regard” test in this new
situation. Two parallel provisions were drafted for this new situation.
First, Article 56 (2) provides:
“In exercising its rights and performing its duties […] in the [EEZ], the
coastal State shall have due regard to the rights and duties of other States
and shall act in a manner compatible with the provisions of this
Convention.”
Secondly, Article 58 (3) states that:
“In exercising their rights and performing their duties under this
Convention in the [EEZ], States shall have due regard to the rights and
duties of the coastal State and shall comply with the laws and regulations
adopted by the coastal State […].”
It is not going too far to state that the introduction of the “due regard”
test, suitably tailored to this new environment of a zone situated
between the territorial sea and the high seas, was a key element in the
overall solution.

19
 M. H. Nordquist/S. N. Nandan/S. Rosenne (eds.), United Nations Convention on
the Law of the Sea 1982–A Commentary, Vol. III, at 86 (1995).
20
 Agreement relating to the Implementation of Part XI of the UN Convention on
the Law of the Sea of 10 December 1982, 28 July 1994, UNTS Vol. 1836 No. 31364.
664 david anderson

Before leaving Arts. 56 and 58, it may be worth noting Article

59 which establishes the basis for resolving conflicts regarding the
attribution of rights and jurisdiction in the EEZ. Such conflicts are to
be resolved “on the basis of equity and in the light of all the relevant
circumstances, taking into account the respective importance of the
interests involved to the parties as well as to the international commu-
nity as a whole”. This provision appears to be in full accord with the
principle of reasonableness.

D. Some Aspects of Reasonableness in the UN Fish Stocks

Agreement 21

The “due regard” test was applied in Arts. 7 (6) and 8 (2) of the UN Fish
Stocks Agreement of 1995, both of which provisions concern the need
for all States to act in good faith and to pay due regard to the rights and
interests of all States concerned. The criterion of reasonableness was
employed in Article 22 of the Agreement concerning the basic proce-
dures for boarding fishing vessels at sea for inspection. Paragraph 1 (f)
requires the inspectors, when exercising their police powers, to avoid
the use of force except in order to ensure their own safety or to over-
come obstruction. The paragraph concludes with the rule that “[t]he
degree of force used shall not exceed that reasonably required in the
circumstances”. This rule is based on a series of decisions by interna-
tional courts and tribunals, such as the “I’m Alone” case22 and the Red
Crusader case.23 In the M/V “Saiga” (No. 2) case, the International
Tribunal for the Law of the Sea held that international law required
that, in arresting a ship, “the use of force must be avoided as far as pos-
sible and, where force is unavoidable, it must not go beyond what is
reasonable and necessary in the circumstances”.24 The Tribunal found
on the facts of the case that the arresting State’s agents had gone beyond
what was reasonable and necessary and so had used excessive force and
endangered human life.

21
 More formally, the Agreement for the Implementation of the Provisions of the
UN Convention on the Law of the Sea of 10 December 1982 relating to the Conservation
and Management of Straddling Fish Stocks and Highly Migratory Fish Stocks, 4 August
1995, UNTS Vol. 2167 No. 37924.
22
Canada v. United States, 3 Reports of International Arbitral Awards 1609 (1935).
23
Denmark/United Kingdom, 35 International Law Reports 485 (1962).
24
 Saint Vincent and the Grenadines v. Guinea, ITLOS Reports 1999, 4, 61–62.
 the principle of reasonableness in the law of the sea665

E. Recent Consideration of High Seas Fisheries in the UN

General Assembly and Regional Organizations

The General Assembly of the United Nations (UNGA) has adopted

important Resolutions about two fishing methods when used on the
high seas. The first series of Resolutions brought about a moratorium
on the use of large-scale pelagic driftnets on the high seas.25 These
Resolutions have responded to the need to conserve and manage the
living resources and ecosystems of the high seas, as elements in global
environmental management. The second set of Resolutions has tried to
limit the use of heavy bottom trawls on the bed of the high seas, often
at great depths.26 Bottom trawls disturb the seabed, causing long-last-
ing damage to the flora and fauna of the seabed, for example where
there are corals or particular communities of marine life on seamounts
or around hydrothermal vents. The aim was to avoid significant adverse
impacts on vulnerable marine ecosystems and on the long-term sus-
tainability of deep sea fish stocks. Another aim was to preserve these
vulnerable natural features for scientific study, bearing in mind that
isolated oceanic seamounts often have unique fauna and flora. These
aims are ones which serve the general interest and the needs of conser-
vation. More recently, the UNGA has also adopted Resolutions con-
cerning the conservation and sustainable use of marine biological
diversity beyond the limits of national jurisdiction.27 All these
Resolutions have noted that the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea
provides the legal framework for efforts to address current problems.
In 2009, the North-East Atlantic Fisheries Commission (NEAFC)
closed five large areas of the high seas in the mid-Atlantic to bottom
fisheries.28 The areas lie along the mid-Atlantic Ridge and are classed
as Vulnerable Marine Ecosystems. The Commission acted on the
basis of advice from the International Council for the Exploration of
the Sea (ICES) which used criteria developed by the Food and

25
GA Res. 44/225 of 22 December 1989.
26
GA Res. 61/105 of 8 December 2006.
27
 E.g. GA Res. 63/111 of 5 December 2008, reconvening the working group on
marine biodiversity in areas beyond national jurisdiction; and GA Res. 64/71 of
4 December 2009, mandating the working group to study the question of marine pro-
tected areas and environmental impact assessment procedures in areas beyond the
limits of national jurisdiction.
28
The members are Denmark (in respect of the Faroes and Greenland), the
European Union (in respect of its 27 member States), Iceland, Norway and Russia.
Information about the closure is found at www.neafc.org.
666 david anderson

Agriculture Organization. The decision applies formally to fishing

activities conducted by vessels flying the flag of a member (or cooper-
ating) State, but in practice the decision could have a wider reach.
Similarly, in September 2010, the Ministerial Meeting of the OSPAR
Convention for the Protection of the Marine Environment of the
North-East Atlantic noted in the Bergen Statement that Marine
Protected Areas (MPAs) in the Convention’s regulatory area covered
about 433,000 square kilometres, including large overlaps with the
areas closed to bottom fishing by the NEAFC.29 These areas, which
included the Charlie Gibbs South MPA and several seamounts on the
mid-Atlantic Ridge, are to be increased in size by 2012. Both
Organizations emphasized that their work was conducted within the
framework of the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea.
In the light of these decisions to prohibit certain fishing methods
and to protect specified areas, the requirement to pay reasonable regard
to the rights of others in Article 87 (2) of the Convention probably
means that today all vessels exercising freedom of fishing on the high
seas must have reasonable regard for the rights and interests of the
international community as expressed in decisions taken at the global
and regional levels. These measures are relevant not simply for vessels
flying the flags of the member States of the regional Organizations
which have declared MPAs but also for vessels flying the flags of other
States. In the way in which the international community has acted to
prohibit nuclear testing on the high seas and has replaced the freedom
to mine the seabed of the high seas with the arrangements set out in
Part XI of the Convention, so today there has been an unopposed
manifestation of the collective will, through the UNGA and other
international bodies, to restrict fishing methods and access to fish
stocks in protected areas. Where States with a particular interest have
agreed in a regional international organization to create a marine pro-
tected area for reasons to do with the protection of community
interests in fisheries, in marine science, in rare environmental features,
or in biodiversity, a third party which undermines the protection may
well be found to have acted unreasonably or to have abused its high
seas rights and freedoms by paying insufficient regard to the rights and
interests of the member States, as well as general community interests.

 Text posted on www.ospar.org.

29
 the principle of reasonableness in the law of the sea667

Like the duty to cooperate, the “reasonable regard” test serves to qual-
ify the freedom of fishing.

F. Some Aspects of Reasonableness in the UN Convention on

the Law of the Sea

The legal principle of reasonableness is found in different contexts in

the Anglo-American common law. In criminal trials, guilt must be
proved beyond reasonable doubt. In claims for loss or damage caused
by negligence, the standard is that of the reasonable man or woman. At
first impression, the test may appear to be a subjective one, but as
applied by the courts it is in fact an objective standard.30 The test is one
which can best be applied by courts or in quasi-judicial contexts, tak-
ing account of all relevant circumstances of an incident or transaction.
The same is true of international courts and tribunals when they are
applying the test of reasonableness in international law. The test is a
contextual one and thus in harmony with the rules on the interpreta-
tion of treaties set out in the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties.
Tests of reasonableness apply in the law of the sea. In the UN Convention
on the Law of the Sea, the principle is reflected in Article 300, the first
of the general provisions, in the following terms:
“States Parties shall fulfil in good faith the obligations assumed under
this Convention and shall exercise the rights, jurisdiction and freedoms
recognised in this Convention in a manner which would not constitute
an abuse of right.”
Rights defined in the Convention have to be exercised in a reasonable
manner. This proposition appears to be one of wide application. For
example, reasonableness is called for in interpreting the different arti-
cles in the Convention which refer to the myriad of natural coastal fea-
tures of the Earth’s surface. These features, which change constantly as
a result of the tides and other natural forces, are referred to in the arti-
cles on baselines, on the outer limits of national jurisdiction, on islands
and rocks, and on the delimitation of maritime areas under national
jurisdiction. Reasonableness is encompassed in the notion of the “equi-
table solution” called for in Arts. 74 and 83 on the delimitation of the

30
 N. MacCormick, Reasonableness and Objectivity, 74 Notre Dame Law Review
1575 (1999).
668 david anderson

EEZ and continental shelf between neighbouring States, as well as in

verifying that there is no disproportion between the respective coastal
lengths and the corresponding maritime areas falling to the two States.
The concept of reasonableness appears in a special form in Article
292 concerning the prompt release of vessels and their crews upon the
posting of a reasonable bond.31 The jurisprudence of the International
Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, to which Judge Wolfrum has contrib-
uted so much, has developed the concept of the “reasonable bond”.32
According to the constant jurisprudence of the Tribunal, the criterion
of reasonableness encompasses the overall balance of the amount, form
and nature of the bond. The Tribunal assesses the gravity of the alleged
offences, the penalties imposed or imposable, the value of the vessel
and its contents, and the terms of the bond imposed by the detaining
State. The Tribunal has made clear that the assessment is an objective
one and the amount of the reasonable bond should be proportionate to
the gravity of the alleged offences.33 Through its case-law, the Tribunal
has developed the broad concept of reasonableness included in Article
292. The task under Article 292 is not an easy one since the proceedings
have to be conducted without prejudice to the merits of any case before
the appropriate domestic forum in the detaining State. The Tribunal’s
jurisprudence represents a good example of the implementation and
application of a test of reasonableness by an international tribunal.

G. Concluding Remarks

All States have equal access to and enjoyment of the high seas as a
global commons. In order to prevent anarchy and lawlessness, the
international community of States has regulated this access and enjoy-
ment through the adoption and implementation of international

31
 For a survey, see D. Anderson, Prompt Release of Vessels and Crews, in: R.
Wolfrum (ed.), Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law (2008), available
at www.mpepil.com, and the sources there cited.
32
 R. Wolfrum, Verfahren zur Freigabe von Schiffen vor dem Internationalen
Seegerichtshof, in: R. Lagoni/M. Paschke (eds.), Seehandelsrecht und Seerecht:
Festschrift für Rolf Herber zum 70. Geburtstag, 567 (1999).
33
 See Hoshinmaru Case (Japan v. Russian Federation), Judgment, ITLOS Reports
2007, 4 and the cases there cited. In Mangouras v. Spain, the European Court of Human
Rights cited the Hoshinmaru case before deciding, by a majority, that the imposition
by a Spanish court of a bail bond of 3,000,000 Euros on Captain Mangouras did not
violate his human right to liberty. The Tribunal’s reasonable bonds in respect of the
release of masters of fishing vessels have been more modest in amount.
 the principle of reasonableness in the law of the sea669

conventions, supplemented by the regulations of international organi-

zations such as the International Maritime Organization. In addition,
there is a need to accommodate competing uses, that is to say, those
exercises of high seas freedoms which interfere with the freedoms of
others. It is here that a flexible test of reasonableness is applicable.
In recent times, the idea of protecting community interests on a
global or regional basis has become more prominent. Within the
framework of the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea, such interests
may be protected through the adoption of international agreements or
international standards or through the unanimous expression of the
general will.
Judge Wolfrum remains a member of the International Tribunal for
the Law of the Sea. His long-standing interest in the protection of the
global commons helps to ensure that the Tribunal will continue to dis-
charge its important role under the Convention by interpreting its
terms in a reasonable manner.
 Polar Science in the North and South: Tailoring
Lessons from Antarctica to Improve Reliability of
Legal Access for Marine Scientific Research (MSR)
to the Arctic Ocean

Betsy Baker*

A. Introduction

Faced with an increasingly accessible and warming Arctic, the arctic

states have turned a decidedly cold shoulder to the Antarctic Treaty
System (ATS)1 as a governance model. Yet in the wake of the
International Polar Year (IPY) 2007–2009 they still lack the kind of
reliable research access to each others’ exclusive economic zones (EEZs)
and continental shelves in the Arctic Ocean that could contribute to
better understanding of global change. Is there anything to be learned
from the ATS on this very narrow question, without adopting the ATS
model wholesale? On paper, each of the arctic littoral states–Canada,
Denmark/Greenland, Norway, the Russian Federation and the United
States–follow the rules in Part XIII of the UN Convention on the
Law of the Sea,2 which sets out the coastal state consent regime for such
“Marine Scientific Research”.3 From the field, however, scientists report
a lack of consistent information about and application of those
rules from one country to the next. This paper examines whether

* My thanks go to participants at the September 2010 Arctic Council PAME

(Protection of the Arctic Marine Environment Working Group) Arctic Ocean Review
Workshop for comments on an earlier version of Part D.II., infra; to Dr. Hajo Eicken,
Geophysical Institute, University of Alaska Fairbanks, for collaboration on the larger
project from which this paper derives as described infra, note 6; and to Lisa Campion,
Katie Polonsky and Jane Woldow of Vermont Law School for research assistance.
1
 Antarctic Treaty, 1 December 1959, UNTS Vol. 402 No. 5778 (in force 23 June
1961); Article 1 (e) of the Protocol on Environmental Protection to the Antarctic
Treaty (“Madrid Protocol”) defines the ATS as “the Antarctic Treaty, the measures in
effect under that Treaty, its associated separate international instruments in force and
the measures in effect under those instruments”.
2
 U.N. Convention on the Law of the Sea, 10 December 1982, UNTS Vol. 1833 No.
31363. In force 16 November 1994 (“LOS Convention”).
3
Three comprehensive overviews of legal issues relating to Part XIII of the LOS
Convention are A. H. A. Soons, Marine Scientific Research and the Law of the Sea
(1982); F. Wegelein, Marine scientific research: the operation and status of research
672 betsy baker

drawing upon a limited selection of ATS components and principles

regarding scientific cooperation might help resolve problems of
reliable access for scientists engaged in marine research in the Arctic.
It concludes that core principles adopted by the international
science community, practiced by scientists in the Arctic and Antarctic,
and expressed in multi- and bilateral agreements between many
of the arctic states can provide a solid foundation for better access reli-
ability. Specifically, it proposes a non-binding statement of common
precepts to strengthen and build on the existing LOS coastal state
consent regime for marine scientific research to EEZs and con­
tinental shelves in the Arctic. Rüdiger Wolfrum’s definitive corpus of
work on the Antarctic Treaty System4 offers a clear lens for exam­
ining how to improve access to the Arctic for Marine Scientific
Research.5

vessels and other platforms in international law (2005) and M. Gorina-Ysern, An

International Legal Regime for Marine Scientific Research (2003). For individual
aspects of Part XIII see, e.g., A. Chircop, Advances in Ocean Knowledge and Skill:
Implications for the MSR Regime, and J. A. Roach, Defining Scientific Research:
Marine Data Collection, both in: M. Nordquist et al. (eds.), Law, Science & Ocean
Management (2007). See also J. A. Roach, Marine Data Collection: Methods and the
Law, in: M. Nordquist/T. Koh/J. Moore (eds.), Freedom of seas, passage rights and the
1982 Law of the Sea Convention, 171 (2009).
4
 A selection of titles by Rüdiger Wolfrum relevant to Antarctica include Die
Internationalisierung staatsfreier Räume: Die Entwicklung einer internationalen
Verwaltung für Antarktis, Weltraum, Hohe See und Meeresboden (1984); The
Convention on the Regulation of Antarctic Mineral Resource Activities (1991);
Liability for Environmental Damage in Antarctica: Supplement to the Rules on State
Responsibility or a Lost Opportunity?, in: I. Buffard/J. Crawford/A. Pellet/S. Wittich
(eds.), International Law between Universalism and Fragmentation, Festschrift in
Honour of Gerhard Hafner, 817 (2008); Antarctica: A Case for Common
Implementation Of Environmental Standards, in: M. G. Kohen (ed.), Promoting
Justice, Human Rights and Conflict Resolution through International Law–Liber
Amicorum Lucius Caflisch, 809 (2007); The Admissibility of Land-Based Tourism in
Antarctica under International Law, 65 Zeitschrift für ausländisches öffentliches Recht
und Völkerrecht 735 (2005) (together with S. Vöneky, J. Friedrich); Solidarity: A
Structural Principle of International Law (2010) (together with C. Kojima); Energie aus
dem Meer, in: W. Löwer (ed.), Vielfalt des Energierechts, 9 (2009); Solidarity amongst
States: An Emerging Structural Principle of International Law, 49 Indian Journal of
International Law 8 (2009).
5
Wolfrum’s exemplary examination of the Antarctic Treaty System and its signif­
icance for public international law began, of course, with his Habilitation or post-
doctoral thesis on the development of an administration for Antarctica, the first title in
supra note 4. It is also informed by his lifelong commitment to public service which,
for many years, was manifested in his membership on delegations and tribunals rele-
vant to Antarctica, e.g. the 4th Special Consultative Meeting concerning Antarctic
mineral resource activities (1983–1988); Chairman of the Legal Working Group of the
Antarctic Treaty Consultative Meetings preparing an Annex to the Protocol on
 polar science in the north and south673

B. The Access Problem6 and Marine Scientific Research in

the Arctic

Part XIII of the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea (the “LOS
Convention”) is the primary international agreement regulating the
rights and duties of states regarding the conduct of Marine Scientific
Research–or MSR–in each of the maritime zones. Part XIII begins with
Article 238, which provides that all states have the right to conduct
MSR irrespective of their geographical location and subject to the
rights and duties of other states. These rights exist in territorial waters,
EEZs and continental shelves; coastal states may grant or deny access
for MSR in all three zones, subject to the rules of Part XIII.
Each of the five Arctic Ocean coastal states now follows some varia-
tion of the rules set out in Part XIII. These rules require scientists to
obtain coastal state permission before conducting MSR in its territorial
sea, EEZ or on its continental shelf. Under “normal circumstances”,
consent for access to the EEZ or shelf may not be unreasonably delayed
or denied (Article 246) if the scientists seeking permission follow pro-
cedures established by the coastal state and otherwise comply with the
requirements of Part XIII, e.g., that the research be “exclusively for
peaceful purposes and in order to increase scientific knowledge of the
marine environment for the benefit of all mankind” (Article 246 (3)).
In April 2009 the Intergovernmental Oceanographic Commission
(IOC) Advisory Body of Experts on the Law of the Sea (ABE-LOS)
published survey results regarding MSR permissions requested and
granted by all coastal states in the four year period from 1998 to 2002.7

Environmental Protection to the Antarctic Treaty on responsibility for environmental

damage (1993–1998). Source: United Nations Audiovisual Library of International
Law, available at www.un.org/law/avl.
6
This Part B., The Access Problem, draws heavily on B. Baker/H. Eicken, Marine
Research Access in the Arctic Ocean: Background for Potential Guidelines in a
Changing Arctic, 10 March 2010, unpublished White Paper, available at www.iarc.uaf.
edu/workshops/2009/4/ (click on “download whitepaper”).
7
 E. Tirpak, Excel File-Analysis of Response to IOC Questionnaire No. 3, April
2009, available at http://ioc-unesco.org/index.php?option=com_oe&task=viewDocu
mentRecord&docID=3571; E. Tirpak, IOC Questionnaire N° 3, the practices of states
in the field of marine scientific research (MSR) and transfer of marine technology
(TMT), April 2009, available at http://ioc-unesco.org/index.php?option=com_oe&tas
k=viewDocumentRecord&docID=3570; E. Tirpak, Practice of IOC Member States in
the Fields of Marine Scientific Research and Transfer of Marine Technology–An
Analysis of Responses to ABE-LOS Questionnaire No. 3, January 2009, available at
http://ioc-unesco.org/index.php?option=com_oe&task=viewDocumentRecord&docI
D=3515.
674 betsy baker

The results for the five Arctic Ocean littoral states (for all waters, not
just the Arctic Ocean) indicate that from 78% to 100% of requests are
approved, depending on the country granting permission. To reiterate,
the survey does not provide separate statistics for arctic waters, but it
does indicate what each Arctic coastal state does with respect to all of
its waters combined. Denmark, for example, reported receiving 200
requests annually in that four year period and granting 95% of them.
For access to all of its waters, including arctic waters, the Russian
Federation reported approving 78% of all annual requests (106) and
the other arctic coastal states reported granting approvals in 98 to 100%
of all cases (Canada: 103 requests, 98% granted; Norway: 68 requests,
99% granted; United States: 70 requests, 100% granted).8 The survey
results help considerably to address the lack of basic information
regarding MSR practices generally noted by scholars and scientists
studying MSR permitting processes.9 A centralized source of up-to-
date information for permitting requirements worldwide is still miss-
ing and has been suggested as a useful tool that would also help improve
access generally.10
Beyond these survey results, which are not specific to the Arctic
Ocean, scientists still report access reliability problems in the region
even though, on paper, all five Arctic Ocean littoral states purport
to follow the Convention processes.11 The issue has been raised in a
number of fora during and after the International Polar Year.12 A 2009

8
See Tirpak (note 7) (Excel File Analysis).
9
See, e.g., Wegelein (note 3); J. Knauss/M. Katsouros, Recent Experience of the
United States in Conducting Marine Scientific Research in Coastal State Exclusive
Economic Zones, in: T. Clingan (ed.), The Law of the Sea: What Lies Ahead?, 297
(1986).
10
W. Dallmann/A. H. Hoel (eds.), Maximizing the Legacy of IPY in the Arctic: A
scoping study for the Arctic Council, at 19, Part 3.3.3 (2009).
11
 Id., at 17–18; R. Macnab/O. Loken/A. Anand, The Law of the Sea and Marine
Scientific Research in the Arctic Ocean, Meridian–Newsletter of the Canadian Polar
Commission 1 (Fall/Winter 2007); L. W. Cooper (ed.), Proceedings of a Workshop on
Facilitating U.S.-Russian Environmental Change Research in the Russian Arctic,
Marine Ecology and Biogeochemistry Group (2006). For national procedures see, e.g.,
Norway, The Directorate of Fisheries, Marine Scientific Research, Application Form
and Regulations, available at www.fiskeridir.no/english/fisheries/marine-scientific-
research (last updated 2009) and U.S. Department of State, Marine Scientific Research
Authorizations, Website of the Office of Ocean and Polar Affairs (OPA) within the
Department’s Bureau of Oceans and International Environmental and Scientific Affairs
(OES), available at www.state.gov/g/oes/ocns/opa/rvc/index.htm.
12
 E.g. The Arctic: Observing the Environmental Challenges and Facing their
Challenges, Monte Carlo Conference, 9–10 November 2008, Monte Carlo, Monaco,
preparatory documents on file with and as reported in G. Witschel/I. Winkelmann,
 polar science in the north and south675

scoping study for the Arctic Council, Maximizing the Legacy of IPY in
the Arctic, was the subject of a joint Arctic Council/Antarctic Treaty
Consultative Meeting workshop in June 2010, held in conjunction with
the Oslo IPY conference. One of the four main themes of the scoping
study was “Access to study areas and research infrastructure”. Section
3.3, which covers this theme, is relatively short, but its message is clear
regarding access to marine and terrestrial areas alike: In some cases
national access regulations “have been unnecessarily complicated and
or unpredictable”.13 The scoping study points to problems with moving
scientific instruments and samples across borders, and “enormously
high fees […] for access permits and frequently changing regulations
for filling in forms and customs regulations”.14 The 2009 Tromsø
Ministerial Declaration of the Arctic Council supported “continued
international coordination to maximize the legacy of IPY within the
following areas: observations, data access and management, [and]
access to study areas and infrastructure”.15
The additional concern has been expressed in some of these fora
that, as states confirm the reach of their extended continental shelves
in the Arctic Ocean under Article 76 of the LOS Convention, an even
greater area will be subject to the same problems of unreliable access.16
Within or landward of their 200 nm exclusive economic zones coastal
states may regulate MSR access to both the water column and to the
continental shelf. Seaward of the EEZ all states have the high seas

Current Endeavors with Respect to the Arctic Ocean: New challenges for International
Law and Politics, in: G. Witschel et al. (eds.), New Chances and New Responsibilities
in the Arctic Region, 267, at 272 (2010); Dallmann/Hoel (note 10), at Part 3. Other fora
discussing the issue include the Arctic Ocean Review, Draft review meeting, 13
September 2010, Washington, D.C.; The National Academies of Science, Polar Research
Board, U.S. Scientific Access to the Russian Arctic, 22 September 2010, Washington,
D.C.; and International Arctic Research Center (IARC) Workshop: International scien-
tific collaboration and legal regimes in a changing Arctic Ocean, 21 September 2009,
University of Alaska Fairbanks, available at www.iarc.uaf.edu/workshops/2009/4/.
13
 Dallmann/Hoel (note 10), at 18.
14
 Id. Section 3.3 of the Scoping Study is quoted in full in the Annex to this article.
15
 Tromsø Declaration on the occasion of the Sixth Ministerial Meeting of The
Arctic Council, 29 April 2009, Tromsø, Norway, at 3 (emphasis added).
16
 On the Article 76 process of extending the continental shelves in the Arctic gener-
ally, see, L. Mayer/M. Jakobsson/A. Armstrong, University of New Hampshire Center
for Coastal and Ocean Mapping/Joint Hydrographic Center, The Compilation and
Analysis of Data Relevant to a U.S. Claim under United Nations Law of the Sea Article
76: A Preliminary Report (2002). On the potential for much of the arctic continental
shelf to be consumed by the extended continental shelves, see R. Macnab, “Use it or
Lose it” in Arctic Canada: Action Agenda or Election Hype?, 34 Vermont Law Review
3 (2009).
676 betsy baker

freedom, in keeping with the Convention and coastal state regulations,

“to conduct marine scientific research in the water column beyond the
limits of the exclusive economic zone” (Article 257, emphasis added).
The water column beyond the EEZ and, presumably, the sea ice there
are considered to be the high seas, where coastal states have no right to
deny or grant MSR access permission. But beneath that water column,
on any continental shelf over which a state legitimately exercises its
access consent rights seaward of the EEZ, coastal states may withhold
consent for those parts of the shelf that they have designated in advance
for actual or imminent resource exploitation or detailed exploratory
operations (Article 246 (6)). This provision offers no practical hurdle to
a state designating much or all of its continental shelf seaward of 200
nm as being part of this exploration/exploitation area and thus more
restricted for MSR access. Finally, under Article 256 all states have the
right to conduct MSR in “the Area”, which the Convention defines as
“the seabed and ocean floor and subsoil thereof beyond the limits of
national jurisdiction” (Article 1), i.e. not included or delineated as the
continental shelf of the coastal state.

C. On the (In?)Applicability of the Antarctic Treaty System

to MSR in the Arctic

The ATS is in many ways the product of scientific research in Antarctica

and of the 1957–1959 International Geophysical Year (IGY).17 The IGY
is mentioned specifically in the Preamble and Article II of the Antarctic
Treaty (AT).18 Among its many contributions to science, the IGY laid
the groundwork for later observations of climate change both in
expanding the research infrastructure and in “the initiation of regular
measurements of carbon dioxide levels in the atmosphere”.19 But what

17
The IGY began as the third IPY. See, e.g. K. Sloan/D. Hik, International Polar Year
as a Catalyst for Sustaining Arctic Research, 8 Sustainable Development Law & Policy
4 (2008); and several chapters in J. Shadian/M. Tennberg (eds.), Legacies and Change
in Polar Sciences: Historical, Legal and Political Reflections on the International Polar
Year (2009), including D. R. Rothwell, The IPY and the Antarctic Treaty System:
Reflections 50 Years Later, 125, at 127; and J. Shadian, Revisiting Politics and Science in
the Poles, 35, at 38, situating the IGY in the Cold War context, as do J. Jabour/M.
Howard, Antarctic Science, Politics and IPY Legacies, 101, at 104.
18
 ATS, Article II (1): “Freedom of scientific investigation in Antarctica and coop-
eration toward that end, as applied during the International Geophysical Year, shall
continue, subject to the provisions of the present Treaty.”
19
 A. Nilsson, A Changing Arctic Climate: More than Just Weather, in: Shadian/
Tennberg (note 17), 14.
 polar science in the north and south677

lessons, if any, does the Antarctic Treaty System have for the problem
of unreliable and diminishing access to the Arctic Ocean for Marine
Scientific Research?
The basic premises of the ATS as designed for the continent
of Antarctica are the effective suspension of national territorial claims
in Article I (2), the pursuit of only peaceful purposes in Article
I (1), and the freedom of scientific investigation in Article II (1). These
tenets are seen as a poor fit for the Arctic, where the Arctic Ocean is
the predominant physical feature, sovereign states have long agreed on
established terrestrial boundaries, and a range of subsistence,
commercial, military, scientific and other uses coexist.20 Another clear
difference between the poles is that Antarctica has a small and
largely temporary population of scientists, whereas the permanent
human population in the Arctic is estimated at some 4 million
people.21
Instead of seeing the Antarctic model as a source of guidance, the
arctic states have expressed three distinct sets of reservations about
relying inappropriately on the ATS in the Arctic. The first reservation is
seen in a consensus, to which there are important exceptions, that no
new umbrella treaty is necessary for the Arctic, whether modeled on
the ATS, pieced together from other agreements, or created out of
whole cloth.22 The second and related reservation is manifested in the
five arctic coastal states’ collective recognition in the Ilulissat
Declaration23 that the “law of the sea”, a broader term not to be con-
fused with the more limited reference “UN Convention on the Law
of the Sea”, provides the necessary framework for many arctic

20
See, e.g., S. G. Borgerson, Arctic Meltdown: The Economic and Security
Implications of Global Warming, 87 Foreign Affairs 63 (2008); and Jabour/Howard
(note 17), at 102.
21
See, e.g., Shadian/Tennberg (note 17), Introduction, at 3.
22
 A discussion of the consensus and other views on the need for an overarching
arctic treaty is beyond the scope of this paper. For a comprehensive study of legal
regimes applicable in the Arctic see, e.g., L. Nowlan, Int’l Union for Conservation of
Nature, Arctic Legal Regime for Environmental Protection (2001); R. Rayfuse, Melting
Moments: The Future of Polar Oceans Governance in a Warming World, 16 Review of
European Community International Environmental Law 196 (2007), and T.
Koivurova/E. Molenaar, International Governance and Regulation of the Marine
Arctic, Three reports prepared for the WWF International Arctic Programme, at 85
(2010).
23
The five Arctic Ocean littoral states of Canada, Denmark (Greenland/Faroe
Islands), Norway, the Russian Federation and the United States signed The Ilulissat
Declaration, 28 May 2008, 48 ILM 382 (2009). The remaining arctic states, Finland,
Iceland and Sweden, and the Permanent Participants of the Arctic Council expressed
concern at not being included in the Ilulissat discussion.
678 betsy baker

governance issues.24 The third hesitation is that the specifics of the

ATS are simply a poor fit for the Arctic, for the reasons enunciated
in the preceding paragraph. The debate continues25 but academics and
others in the field of law, politics and environmental governance
largely agree that the ATS as a whole is an unsuitable model for the
Arctic.26
Those who argue most convincingly for some type of arctic treaty,
whether or not modeled on aspects of the ATS, restrict and tailor its
proposed purposes and geographic scope, limiting it to areas beyond
national jurisdiction (ABNJ). Rosemary Rayfuse proposes protecting
polar marine biodiversity in areas beyond national jurisdiction by
establishing a regional organization.27 Donald Rothwell states the need
for a framework treaty for all the Arctic Ocean to address, among other
things, freedom in scientific research: “a set of fundamental guiding
principles could be included dealing with matters such as respect for
the environment, conservation and sustainable management of natural

24
 Ilulissat Declaration, id.: “[T]he law of the sea provides for important rights and
obligations concerning the delineation of the outer limits of the continental shelf, the
protection of the marine environment, including ice-covered areas, freedom of naviga-
tion, marine scientific research, and other uses of the sea. We remain committed to this
legal framework and to the orderly settlement of any possible overlapping claims.”
Individual arctic coastal states have also acknowledged the importance of the law of the
sea, see, e.g. Presidential Directive on Arctic Region Policy, NSPD-66/HSPD-25, 45
Weekly Compilation of Presidential Documents 49 (9 January 2009), paras. I.B, III.C.4,
and III.D.1, which refer both to the law of the sea, and to the UN Convention on the
Law of the Sea.
25
See, e.g., Koivurova/Molenaar (note 22), at 84–85, discussing inter alia the 2004
IUCN decision not to apply “the Antarctic experience but to examine which environ-
mental protection issues should be addressed at which level, namely global, regional
(the Arctic Council), bilateral, national and sub-national”.
26
See, e.g., O. Young, The Internationalization of the Circumpolar North: Charting
a Course for the 21st Century, The Arctic (2000); H. Hertell, Arctic Melt: The Tipping
Point for an Arctic Treaty, 21 Georgetown International Environmental Law Review
565, at 586 (2009), rejecting the Antarctic treaty model and proposing a regional
framework agreement for the Arctic, C. Joyner, The Legal Regime for the Arctic Ocean,
18 Journal of Transnational Law and Policy 195 (2009). But cf. the discussion of
Rayfuse and Rothwell, infra.
27
 R. Rayfuse, Protecting Marine Biodiversity in Polar Areas Beyond National
Jurisdiction, 17 Review of European Community & International Environmental Law
3 (2008). She sees such a regime as “incorporat[ing] the best of the ATS into one
agreement adopting a cross-sectoral, ecosystem-based, precautionary approach to
management and embodying modern conservation and management principles,
including the need for environmental impact assessments of all activities to be carried
out in the area” (id., at 11).
 polar science in the north and south679

resources, freedom of scientific research, and respect for the rights of

indigenous peoples.”28
With these recent propositions, Rayfuse and Rothwell identify some
of the Antarctic lessons that are applicable to the Arctic.29 Given that
established areas of national jurisdiction exist in the Arctic, however,
freedom in scientific research cannot be as far-reaching as in Antarctica,
and research must necessarily be balanced against other uses. Timo
Koivurova and Erik Molenaar suggest that certain ATS compo­
nents, including “[f]reedom of scientific information and mandatory
exchange of scientific observations and results modeled on Articles II
and III of the Antarctic Treaty” are not suitable, in part because the
coastal state consent regime in Part XIII of the LOS Convention already
applies to the Arctic Ocean.30 As for designating the Arctic as “a natural
reserve, devoted to peace and science” modeled on Article 2 of the ATS
Madrid Protocol on Environmental Protection31 they conclude that,
“[i]t is not necessary to explain that this is entirely unrealistic”.32 Thus
they reject the means specified in said Article 2 but not necessarily the
Parties’ commitment to the “comprehensive protection of the Antarctic
environment and dependent and associated ecosystems”33 in the same
article. Arguably, protecting the Arctic environment can be accom-
plished by means other than designating all of it as a natural reserve,
such as an ecosystem approach to marine management and spatial
planning.

28
 D. Rothwell, The Arctic in International Affairs: Time for a New Regime?, 15
Brown Journal of World Affairs 241, at 250 (2008), who continues: “the treaty would
[…] seek to establish a comprehensive environmental management regime for the
whole region, including the high seas”. See also D. Rothwell/S. Kaye, Law of the Sea and
the Polar Regions, Reconsidering the traditional norms, 18 Marine Policy 41, at 46
(1994).
29
 Rayfuse (note 27), at 11: “Thus while the ATS may, indeed, be a model for the high
seas of the central Arctic Ocean, a ROMO [regional oceans management organization]
responding to the climate change-induced challenges to the Arctic should go beyond
the ATS model to a truly integrated, holistic, cross-sectoral agreement enforceable by
and on behalf of the international community.”
30
Koivurova/Molenaar (note 22), at 84–85, noting also the inappropriateness of the
ATS research model for the terrestrial Arctic. See also T. Koivurova, Environmental
Protection in the Arctic and Antarctic: Can the Polar Regimes Learn from Each Other?,
33 International Journal of Legal Information 204 (2005).
31
 Madrid Protocol, see supra note 1.
32
Koivurova/Molenaar (note 22), at 84–85.
33
 Madrid Protocol, see supra note 1, Article 2.
680 betsy baker

An ecosystem approach to management is one ATS-derived compo-

nent that is viewed as relevant to the Arctic:34 “Linkages between the
instruments of the ATS and the bodies established by them, for
instance Article 5 of the Madrid Protocol and Articles III and V of the
CCAMLR Convention. It is submitted that these linkages are condu-
cive to integrated, cross-sectoral ecosystem-based ocean manage-
ment.”35 These linkages deal primarily with obligations of parties to the
various instruments in the ATS not to engage in activities in the
Antarctic Treaty area that are contrary to the principles and purposes
of the Treaty itself.36

D. Deriving Principles for Marine Environmental

Protection and Marine Scientific Research in the Arctic

The suggestion in Part C that inter-related agreements in the ATS sup-

port cross-sectoral ecosystem-based ocean management in Ant­
arctica begs the question of what linkages, principles and purposes
might be considered relevant to the Arctic Ocean in the absence
of an overarching treaty for the Arctic.37 As a baseline, the relationship
between Marine Scientific Research and protection of the arctic
marine environment should be made clear. Article 234 of the LOS
Convention on ice-covered areas already made that connection
in 1982: Coastal State “laws and regulations for the prevention,
reduction and control of marine pollution from vessels in ice-covered
areas within the limits of the exclusive economic zone […] shall have
due regard to navigation and the protection and preservation of the
marine environment based on the best available scientific evidence”
(Article 234, emphasis added). Without marine research, states
are hard-pressed to base their rules on the best available scientific

34
Koivurova/Molenaar (note 22), at 84–85.
35
 Id. See also the Convention on the Conservation of Antarctic Marine Living
Resources (CCAMLR), 20 May 1980, UNTS Vol. 1329 No. 22301. In force 7 April 1982.
36
 For example, Article 5 of the Madrid Protocol, see supra note 1, provides that the
Parties “shall consult and co-operate” with the parties to the other ATS instruments in
force.
37
Wolfrum (note 4), at 9 (Solidarity amongst States), cites to Herman Mosler’s cat-
egory of “principles that have their origin directly in international legal relations and
general principles of law as recognized in all kinds of legal relations”. Such principles
“can be developed deductively or from the basis of the existing positive law”. Whereas
Wolfrum follows the latter approach in the Solidarity article, id., here in the current
article the author draws on both methods.
 polar science in the north and south681

evidence. Scientists active in polar research clearly see the connection

between optimal research conditions and understanding and global
change, a connection that is increasingly evident to policy makers as
well.38

I. Deriving Principles from the ATS for Marine Environmental

Protection and MSR in the Arctic
Wolfrum has noted that the “ecosystem approach […] dominates the
Antarctic legal regime”.39 The ecosystem approach also arguably domi-
nates or at least plays an important role in many if not all national
ocean legislation or policies of the Arctic Ocean coastal states.40 The
Ilulissat Declaration, which expresses the arctic coastal states’ commit-
ment to “the law of the sea” framework for a range of issues facing the
Arctic, asserts both that “[c]limate change and the melting of ice have
a potential impact on vulnerable ecosystems” and that the “Arctic
Ocean is a unique ecosystem”.41 The Arctic Council has adopted Large
Marine Ecosystems as a building block for planning in the Arctic, in
part because the ecosystem approach is a practice in each arctic coastal
state.42
These Arctic-relevant national and multilateral affirmations of the
ecosystem approach to marine management can supplement and build
linkages back to the LOS Convention. The Convention contains but
a single reference to “ecosystems” and only two to protecting
“ecological balance”.43 Article 234 applies exclusively to EEZs “where

38
See, e.g., Dallman/Hoel (note 10); Sloan/Hik (note 17), passim; Shadian (note
17), at 47.
39
Wolfrum (note 4), at 821 (Liability for Environmental Damage in Antarctica).
40
See, e.g. E. Olsen et al., The Norwegian Ecosystem-Based Management Plan for
the Barents Sea, 64 ICES Journal of Marine Science 599 (2007); B. Baker, Filling an
Arctic Gap: Legal and Regulatory Possibilities for Canadian-U.S. Cooperation in the
Beaufort Sea, 34 Vermont Law Review 57, at 90 (2009).
41
 Ilulissat Declaration, see supra note 23.
42
See, e.g. Protection of the Marine Environment Working Group, Arctic Council,
PAME Work Plan 2009–2011, Arctic Council Project, Best Practices in Ecosystem-
Based Ocean Management in the Arctic (BePOMAr), discussed in: Protection of the
Arctic Marine Environment, PAME Summary Report, 2006–2009 Activities: 6th
Arctic Council Ministerial Meeting, 29 April 2009, Tromsø, Norway, at 6 (2009); see
also Arctic Council, Arctic marine Strategic Plan, at 11 (2004).
43
 Referencing the need to preserve and protect “rare and fragile ecosystems” in
Article 195 (5); “ecological balance” appears in Article 145 (a) (the Area) and Article
234 (ice-covered areas); “ecological conditions” in Article 211 (pollution from ships) of
the LOS Convention.
682 betsy baker

particularly severe climatic conditions and the presence of ice covering

such areas for most of the year create obstructions or exceptional haz-
ards to navigation, and pollution of the marine environment could
cause major harm to or irreversible disturbance of the ecological bal-
ance” (emphasis added). Linkages from national and Arctic Council
ecosystem principles can also be made to every state’s “obligation to
protect and preserve the marine environment” under Article 192 of the
LOS Convention.44
Making such linkages between soft and hard law in the Arctic is not
quite the same as deriving principles by linking the positive law obliga-
tions contained in the component agreements of the ATS. The 1991
Madrid Protocol, for example, incorporated and elaborated the idea of
ecosystem protection into the older Antarctic Treaty and the ATS gen-
erally, building on “the conservation principles of the Convention on
the Conservation of Antarctic Marine and Living Resources”
(Preamble). CCAMLR itself promotes protecting ecosystem integrity
while “supplementing without modifying or amending” the AT.45
Article 3 (1) of the Madrid Protocol also elaborates the “Environmental
Principles” of protecting both “dependent and associated ecosystems”
and the value of “research essential to understanding the global
environment”.46
Science is a privileged activity in the Antarctic Treaty System47 but
just one of many legitimate marine activities, both in the Arctic48 and

44
 None of the ecosystem or ecological references appears in Part XIII on MSR. At
the time this article went to press, the author anticipated but had not accessed a pres-
entation by R. Long, Reconciling the Regulatory Requirements Governing Vessel-
based Marine Scientific Research in the European Union with the Ecosystems
Approach, announced for the December 2010 Conference on Globalization and the
Law of the Sea, sponsored by the Korea Maritime Institute (KMI), Seoul, the Center for
Oceans Law and Policy (COLP), University of Virginia School of Law and the
Netherlands Institute for the Law of the Sea (NILOS), Utrecht University, The
Netherlands. See also R. Long, Marine Science Capacity Building and Technology
Transfer: Rights and Duties Go Hand in Hand Under the 1982 UNCLOS, in:
M. Nordquist et al. (eds.), Law, Science & Ocean Management, 299 (2007).
45
 CCAMLR, see supra note 35, Preamble, and Article 4.
46
See also Wolfrum/Vöneky/Friedrich (note 4), at footnote 29.
47
 Id., at 739–740, noting that the Madrid Protocol privileges but balances research
with science; legally prioritizing research for “any conflicts of use (cf. Article 3(3) of the
Protocol)”.
48
 For one account of how an arctic coastal state has addressed balancing multiple
uses in its arctic waters see H. Fast/D. Chiperzak/K. Cott/G. M. Elliott, Integrated man-
agement planning in Canada’s western Arctic: An adaptive consultation process, in: F.
Berkes et al. (eds.), Breaking Ice: Renewable Resource and Ocean Management in the
Canadian North, 95 (2005), discussing the Beaufort Sea Integrated Management
 polar science in the north and south683

under the Law of the Sea Convention.49 The coastal state consent
regime for Marine Scientific Research in Part XIII of the LOS
Convention detailed in Part A, above, rests on the “general principles”
that MSR shall be “exclusively for peaceful purposes” (Article 240 (a));
that it shall “not unjustifiably interfere with other legitimate uses of the
sea compatible with this Convention and shall be duly respected in the
course of such uses” (Article 240 (c)); and on MSR’s compliance with
regulations to protect and preserve the marine environment (Article
240 (d)). The principles of non-interference and respect of science as
one kind of marine activity found in Article 240 (c) could be read as
precursor to an integrated ecosystem approach to ocean management
that recognizes and balances different uses.

II. Deriving Principles from Other Sources for MSR in the Arctic
As detailed in Part A, above, principles and rules for MSR already exist
for all areas of the world and are equally applicable in the Arctic: Part
XIII of the LOS Convention on MSR. This paper proposes that supple-
menting, not replacing,50 those principles and rules can help address
the problems with access reliability, also detailed above, for MSR in the
Arctic. The science and diplomatic communities could, for example,
agree upon a non-binding document such as an MSR access “statement
of common precepts” or “code of etiquette” or “declaration” encourag-
ing even more consistent, convergent and transparent compliance
with the Part XIII principles and rules. Participants could include both
the arctic coastal states that grant or deny permission for MSR, and the
other states, arctic and non-arctic, that seek to engage in MSR in
the Arctic. To reiterate, such a document would not replace the existing

Planning Initiative and its interface with the Canada Oceans Act and the Inuvialuit
Final Agreement.
49
The LOS Convention Preamble, e.g. does not refer specifically to science per se but
to the study of the marine environment: “Recognizing the desirability of establishing
through this Convention, with due regard for the sovereignty of all States, a legal order
for the seas and oceans which will facilitate international communication, and will
promote the peaceful uses of the seas and oceans, the equitable and efficient utilization
of their resources, the conservation of their living resources, and the study, protection
and preservation of the marine environment.”
50
This portion of the paper was first presented at an Arctic Ocean Review (AOR)
workshop, see supra note *. “The AOR is not about departing from or trying to rewrite
the fundamental international legal framework, but is about considering supplemental
legal arrangements or processes that may enhance the management of activities and
implementation of respective legal and regulatory frameworks”, AOR Expert Workshop:
Context and Guidance for Presenters [August 2010], on file with author, at 3.
684 betsy baker

Part XIII consent regime under the Law of the Sea Convention. Instead,
it would be a non-binding aspirational guide for states, drawing on
principles to which they have already agreed in existing binding bilat-
eral agreements on science related matters.
Principles to which the Arctic Ocean coastal states, or their research
institutions, have agreed formally are already expressed in a number of
bilateral and multilateral contexts. These include binding state-to-state
bilateral Science and Technology Cooperation agreements and (gener-
ally) non-binding arrangements such as Memoranda of Understanding
on research related matters. Other possible sources for common prin-
ciples and precepts include ministerial and agency level agreements
and possibly their associated annexes.51 Statements of multilateral
research organizations such as IASC, SCAR, ICES and PICES might
also prove a fruitful source of common principles and precepts.52
One set of common principles is found in Agreements on Science
and Technology Cooperation between the United States and three of
the other four arctic coastal states: the Russian Federation (1993),53
Norway (2005)54 and Denmark (2009).55 None of the agreements is

51
See, e.g., Memorandum of Understanding between the National Oceanic and
Atmospheric Administration of the Department of Commerce of the United States of
America and the Russian Academy of Sciences of the Russian Federation on
Cooperation in the Area of the World Oceans and Polar Regions, Washington, D.C., 5
December 2003, and Memorandum of Understanding between the National Oceanic
and Atmospheric Administration, U.S. Department of Commerce, United States of
America, and the Department of the Environment, Canada, For Collaboration on
Weather, Climate and Other Earth Systems for the Enhancement of Health, Safety and
Economic Prosperity, Ottawa, 18 January 2008: “While the Participants intend to
respect these responsibilities, this MoU is not legally binding in either domestic or
international law”, Preamble, at 2, available at www.weather.gov/iao/ia/hom/
IAOCanada.php.
52
These organizations (International Arctic Science Committee, Standing
Committee on Arctic Research, International Council for Exploration of the Seas, and
the North Pacific Marine Science Organization) will not be examined further in this
paper. See also, e.g., the Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) between Nordic polar
research organizations, reported in the June 2010 (5th) issue of the European Polar
Board newsletter, available at www.esf.org/research-areas/polar-sciences/news.html.
One of the four areas of focus in that MoU, “3. Infrastructure Coordination and
Access”, deals with cost-effectiveness of access to shared research stations.
53
 Agreement between the Government of the United States of America and the
Government of the Russian Federation on Science and Technology Cooperation, 16
December 1993, TIAS 12527.
54
 Agreement on Science and Technology Cooperation between the Government of
the United States of America and the Government of the Kingdom of Norway,
9 December 2005.
55
 Agreement between the Government of the United States of America and the
Government of the Kingdom of Denmark for Scientific and Technological Cooperation,
15 September 2009.
 polar science in the north and south685

specific to the Arctic, but each contains sufficiently similar provisions

to suggest what might be acceptable in a supplemental MSR statement
of common precepts.
The Russian Federation-United States agreement does not contain a
separate section on “principles” but it does refer to cooperation being
based on “shared responsibilities, contributions and benefits”.56 Each of
the two later agreements, Denmark-United States and Norway-United
States, has a separate Section 3 specifying four principles, which they
list identically as:
1) “Mutual benefit based on an overall balance of advantages”,
2) “Reciprocal opportunities to engage in cooperative activities”,
3) “Equitable and fair treatment for the participants”, and
4) “Timely exchange of information which may affect cooperative
activities.”
This fourth category could conceivably include timely exchange of
information about MSR permitting processes. That notion builds on
the idea proposed in the IPY scoping study of providing a central data-
base regarding permitting processes for access to the EEZ and conti-
nental shelf of each arctic coastal state.57
In addition, the United States-Russia agreement provides that each
party “shall facilitate entry into and exit from its territory of appropri-
ate personnel and equipment of the other party” (Article 9). Each party
shall also “effectively implement travel to its relevant geographic areas”,
and “facilitate duty free entry for necessary materials and equipment
provided pursuant to this Agreement for use in joint activities” (id.).
These are binding legal obligations. A science and technology agree-
ment between Russia and Germany speaks more generally of each
state’s obligations regarding the movement of personnel and equip-
ment in and out of research areas, but does not reference effectiveness
or facilitating entry and exit.58

56
 United States-Russia Agreement (note 53), Article 2.2.
57
See Dallman/Hoel (note 10), at 19.
58
 Abkommen zwischen der Regierung der Bundesrepublik Deutschland und der
Regierung der Russischen Föderation über wissenschaftlich-technische
Zusammenarbeit, 16 July 2009: “Artikel 7: Fragen der Ein- und Ausreise und
des Aufenthalts von Vertretern juristischer Personen und von natürlichen Personen als
Teilnehmer sowie der Ein- und Ausfuhr von Ausrüstung zu Zwecken dieses
Abkommens in das beziehungsweise aus dem Hoheitsgebiet der Vertragsparteien
werden in Übereinstimmung mit der Gesetzgebung und den internationalenVerpflich-
tungen der Bundesrepublik Deutschland und der Russischen Föderation geregelt.”
686 betsy baker

The agreements between the United States and Norway, and between
the United States and Denmark, specify that the parties are to treat
requests for access “with diligence, taking into account the significance
of these activities to the advancement of scientific knowledge”.59 This
point provides yet another foundation upon which one might expand
the basic message of the latest IPY, that knowledge of the Arctic is
essential to understanding not only arctic change and polar change, but
global change.
Some of the principles to which states have agreed bilaterally in sci-
ence and technology cooperation agreements draw in turn on language
found in the LOS Convention. Mutual benefit is one such example.
In addition to containing the rules on coastal state consent to MSR, the
LOS Convention Part XIII devotes a subsection to international coop-
eration. Under Article 242 (1) “States and competent international
organizations shall, in accordance with the principle of respect for
sovereignty and jurisdiction and on the basis of mutual benefit,
promote international cooperation in marine scientific research for
peaceful purposes” (emphasis added). Article 243 requires bilateral
and multilateral agreements for MSR cooperation: “States and compe-
tent international organizations shall cooperate, through the conclu-
sion of bilateral and multilateral agreements, to create favourable
conditions for the conduct of marine scientific research in the marine
environment and to integrate the efforts of scientists in studying the
essence of phenomena and processes occurring in the marine environ-
ment and the interrelations between them” (emphasis added). State
obligations under Article 242 (2) to provide “information necessary to
prevent and control damage to the health and safety of persons and to
the marine environment” are another basis for considering the Arctic’s
unique role in research into the processes and effects of global
warming.

E. Conclusion

A non-binding statement of common precepts for scientific access

to the Arctic could draw on and supplement principles found in the
ATS and in the LOS Convention and discussed in Part D above. For
example, such a statement could supplement the mandate in

 Norway (note 54), Article 6 (d); Denmark (note 55), Article 6.4.
59
 polar science in the north and south687

Article 242 (2) of the LOS Convention for bilateral and multilateral
cooperative agreements for MSR in part by invoking the 2007–2009
IPY and by focusing on the relationship between the Arctic,
climate change, and science. As for “studying the essence of phenom-
ena and processes in the marine environment and the interrelations
between them” (Article 243), the common precepts could highlight the
Arctic’s unique role as driver, target and living database of global
change.60 Such study requires special integration of efforts not only of
scientists, as specified in Article 243, but of indigenous communities
and traditional and local environmental knowledge.61 By invoking the
IPY, the statement of common precepts would connect to a component
of the ATS that is appropriately applied to the Arctic: specific reference
in the Antarctic Treaty to continuing the scientific cooperation of the
IGY.62 However, any associated reference to “freedom of scientific
research” (as the AT mentions in its IGY references) should be bal-
anced with appropriate references to established national jurisdictions
and sovereignty in the Arctic.
The science community recognizes that there are lessons to
be learned for future scientific cooperation at both poles from the
experience of implementing the Antarctic Treaty, and from the growth
of the Arctic Council.63 Like the principles discussed above, a study
of principles of cooperation enunciated by various scientific organiza-
tions and projects active in the Arctic, and Antarctic, should
also inform a statement of common precepts for reliable MSR in the
North.
In April 2010, the International Council on Science (ICSU), issued
this Statement on Universality of Science in the Polar Regions:

60
 IASC/Arctic Council PAME, Arctic Climate Impact Assessment (ACIA), Chapter
1, at 4 ff. (2004). See, also, e.g., Salekhard Declaration on the occasion of the tenth
Anniversary of the Arctic Council, the Fifth Arctic Council Ministerial Meeting, 26
October 2006, Salekhard, Russia, available at http://arctic-council.org/filearchive/
SALEKHARD_AC_DECLARATION_2006.pdf: “the Arctic climate is a critical com-
ponent of the global climate system with worldwide implications.”
61
See, e.g., Shadian (note 17), at 50, on “traditional indigenous science”, and Nilsson
(note 20), at 25, on the role of indigenous knowledge in arctic science.
62
 Antarctic Treaty, Preamble and Article II, see supra note 19.
63
Sloan/Hik (note 17), at 7, list as one of the steps necessary “in securing a broad
legacy for IPY […] 3. Learning from other efforts to formalise international polar sci-
ence cooperation, especially from the implementation of the Antarctic Treaty System
and from the first fifteen years of the evolution of the Arctic Council.”
688 betsy baker

“ICSU calls on all parties conducting or influencing polar research to

support the principle of Universality of Science in general, and specifi-
cally to support:
1) continued and responsible access to all areas of the Arctic and Antarctic
for research purposes; […]
4) development of and adherence to policies, procedures, and regula-
tions–and provision of resources–to ensure the long-term effectiveness
of the mechanisms that are necessary to deliver 1–3; […]”.64
Both polar science communities are linked to ICSU through its sub-
sidiary entities SCAR and IASC (the Scientific Committee on Antarctic
Research and the International Arctic Science Committee).65 But how
will the scientific community work with the diplomatic community to
accomplish such continued and responsible access?
A year earlier, in 2009, the Arctic Council IPY Legacy scoping study
said this about access to the Arctic for research:
An important and highly valuable legacy of IPY could be to reconsider
access impediments in all regions of the Arctic, building on achieve-
ments made during the IPY, and through inter-governmental consulta-
tions to improve the access situation for scientists in the whole Arctic on
a long-term basis. This is a complicated, demanding, and politically com-
plicated [sic] issue for which the forum and functions of the Arctic
Council are uniquely suited.66
Reasons the Arctic Council is uniquely suited to address access issues
include its genesis in the scientific cooperation known as the Arctic
Environment Protection Strategy, and its role in working with IASC to

64
 ICSU, April 2010. “This statement is endorsed by the Executive Board of the
International Council for Science (ICSU) and its Committee on Freedom and
Responsibility in the conduct of Science”, available at www.icsu.org. Items 2 and 3 indi-
cated by the ellipses above read in full: “2. full, open, and timely access to polar research
data and information for research and educational purposes and for sustainable devel-
opment of polar regions; 3. continued development of international research capacity,
coordination, and collaboration, including sharing of data and information and pool-
ing of additional research capabilities.”
65
 United States Department of State, Handbook of the Antarctic Treaty System, at
224 (Chapter VI: Facilitation of International Scientific Cooperation) (9th ed. 2002):
“SCAR has a unique role under the Antarctic Treaty System, inter alia, to provide sci-
entific advice to Parties at Antarctic Treaty Consultative Meetings.” SCAR is a Scientific
Interdisciplinary Body of ICSU, under Article XI, and IASC is an International
Scientific Associate under Article IV of the ICSC Statutes and Rules of Procedure, As
approved by the 28th Session of the General Assembly of ICSU Suzhou, China (2005).
See also www.scar.org/about/partnerships/iacs/.
66
 Dallman/Hoel (note 10), at 19, Part 3.2.1.
 polar science in the north and south689

produce the Arctic Climate Impact Assessment.67 The Arctic Council is

also an appropriate venue because structuring a statement of common
precepts for research access in the Arctic will require involvement of
the scientific, diplomatic and indigenous communities, all of whom are
active in the Arctic Council.
It is an appropriate tribute to Rüdiger Wolfrum to close by suggest-
ing that the Arctic Council exhibits certain characteristics of solidarity
that could be invoked to improve marine research access in the Arctic.
Wolfrum posits solidarity as an emerging principle in international
law. He views the “achievement of common objectives”68 as one ele-
ment of solidarity and points to sustainable development as a founda-
tional principle of international environmental law relevant to
solidarity.69 Both “common issues” and “sustainable development” are
key to the Ottawa Declaration, by which the governments of the arctic
states established the Arctic Council. It was established as a forum to
“provide a means for promoting cooperation, coordination and inter-
action among the Arctic States, with the involvement of the Arctic
indigenous communities and other Arctic inhabitants on common arc-
tic issues, in particular issues of sustainable development and environ-
mental protection in the Arctic”.70 Reliable scientific access to as much
of the Arctic Ocean as possible, respecting the rights and duties of
coastal states, is essential for such cooperation, coordination and inter-
action. This is true whether the common objective of arctic states is a
deepened understanding of climate change in 2011 or a nascent inves-
tigation of as yet unknown scientific phenomena in the years to come.

67
See, e.g., ACIA, supra note 60; E. T. Bloom, Establishment of the Arctic Council,
93 American Journal of International Law 712 (1999); and T. Koivurova/D.
VanderZwaag, The Arctic Council at 10 Years: Retrospect and Prospects, 40 University
of British Columbia Law Review 121 (2007).
68
Wolfrum (note 4), at 15 (Solidarity amongst States).
69
 Id., at 14.
70
Joint Communiqué and Declaration on the Establishment of the Arctic Council,
19 September 1996, 35 ILM 1386 (1997) (emphasis added).
690 betsy baker

Annex

From: W. Dallmann/A. H. Hoel (eds.), Maximizing the Legacy of IPY

in the Arctic: A scoping study for the Arctic Council, at 18 (2009)72

“3.3 Access to study areas and research infrastructure

3.3.1 Access regulations and related difficulties
Achieving the goal of being able to understand and accurately predict
the future trajectory of the Arctic system requires unconstrained access
for research and monitoring across the Arctic.
The first Polar Year had coordinated observations as its basic idea
giving a possibility to study a phenomenon for a larger area.
Climate change can serve as an example of such a phenomenon to-
day, requiring data from all the Arctic as well as knowledge of
processes.
In the past, access to some areas in the Arctic has been severely ham-
pered by bureaucratic and economic obstacles. Access to areas under
national sovereignty has naturally to abide national laws and regula-
tions. However, in some cases these regulations have been unnecessar-
ily complicated and or unpredictable.
Such obstacles have been especially challenging for scientists when
moving across national borders. Bringing scientific instruments in and
the same instruments back is one problem area. Another is taking sam-
ples for analyzing at a home laboratory and crossing a border with
them. Additional obstacles are enormously high fees to pay for access
permits and frequently changing regulations for filling in forms and
customs regulations.
Usually scientists highly respect the need for national or regional
authorities for doing full inspections. However, relatively small changes
can be undertaken to facilitate the process for both national authorities
and the involved scientists.
An important and highly valuable legacy of IPY could be to recon-
sider access impediments in all regions of the Arctic, building on
achievements made during the IPY, and through inter-governmental
consultations to improve the access situation for scientists in the whole
Arctic on a long-term basis. This is a complicated, demanding, and

72
See supra note 10.
 polar science in the north and south691

politically complicated issue for which the forum and functions of the
Arctic Council are uniquely suited.
Access regulations to protected areas (national parks, sacred sites,
archeological sites etc.) are respected by all and is not an issue is this
paper [sic]. The same applies for safety and rescue regulations, and for
studies involving local residents and communities.”
 Strengthening Compliance with Climate
Change Commitments

Edith Brown Weiss

Climate change is one of the greatest long-term threats to the stability

of the international community. It inherently involves all sectors of
society, all aspects of our environment, and the well-being of future
generations. It raises difficult and complex equity issues, both in the
allocation of burdens to mitigate climate change and in the effects of
climate change. Law has an important role in addressing climate
change, as a means to build and to express shared values, to provide
predictability and stability about behavior, to promote security and
environmental robustness, to promote human dignity, and to avoid or
mitigate conflict.
International law has traditionally been concerned with negotiating
new international agreements to address new problems. For climate
change, these agreements may be global, regional, bilateral, or even
transnational between local entities. Many of the legal instruments are
or will be nonbinding, and set forth norms, guidelines, and practices
that need to be followed for a sustainable and equitable future. Until
recently, there has been much less attention to implementing and com-
plying with legal instruments. Implementation and compliance are
critical but difficult, and all too often taken for granted. They are cen-
tral to addressing climate change effectively.
Prof. Dr. Wolfrum has made many very important contributions to
a broad range of subject areas in international law. One of his recent
academic pursuits has been compliance with and enforcement of mul-
tilateral environmental agreements. He wrote his Hague Lectures on
international law on this topic in 1998,1 and he organized a symposium
and co-edited a volume that explored various facets of the problem.2

1
R. Wolfrum, Means of Ensuring Compliance with and Enforcement of
International Environmental Law, 272 Recueil des Cours 9 (1998).
2
U. Beyerlin/P. Stoll/R. Wolfrum (eds.), Ensuring Compliance with Multilateral
Environmental Agreements: A Dialogue Between Practitioners and Academia (2006).
694 edith brown weiss

These represent significant contributions to an increasingly important

topic in international law.3
Thus, in tribute to Rüdiger Wolfrum, I would like to set forth the
conceptual framework that the late Professor Harold Jacobson and I in
collaboration with an international research team developed to under-
stand compliance with international environmental agreements4 and
to offer some preliminary analysis of its applicability to issues of cli-
mate change. The conceptual framework also applies to other fields in
international law5 and to legal instruments that are not binding.6 It may
have relevance to compliance with instruments that actors other than
States develop and to compliance with national legal instruments.

A. The Conceptual Framework for Understanding

Compliance

Traditionally international law has viewed compliance as hierarchical

and static. Under this view, States negotiate and adopt international
agreements, which they then implement within their territory or juris-
diction. If actors within the State do not follow the agreement or legis-
lation and regulations implementing the agreement, States are obligated
to adopt enforcement measures, which can take various forms.
According to this conception, it follows that a snapshot at any given

3
See, e.g., A. Chayes/A. H. Chayes, The New Sovereignty: Compliance with Inter­
national Regulatory Agreements (1995); O. Young (ed.), The Effectiveness of Inter­
national Environmental Regimes: Causal Connections and Behavioral Mechanisms
(1999); H. Koh, Why Do Nations Obey International Law?, 106 Yale Law Journal 2599
(1997); United Nations Environment Program, Guidelines on Compliance with and
Enforcement of Multilateral Environmental Agreements, adopted in Decision SS.VII/4
(2002), available at http://www.unep.org/DEC/docs/UNEP.Guidelines.on.Compliance.
MEA.pdf.
4
E. Brown Weiss/H. Jacobson (eds.), Engaging Countries: Strengthening
Compliance with International Environmental Accords (2000). The research involved
forty scholars from ten countries conducting empirical research in nine countries
and the European Union on compliance with five international environmental
agreements.
5
E. Brown Weiss, Rethinking Compliance with International Law, in:
E. Benvenisti/M. Hirsch (eds.), The Impact of International Law on International
Cooperation: Theoretical Perspectives, 134 (2004).
6
E. Brown Weiss, Conclusions: Understanding Compliance with Soft Law, in:
D. Shelton (ed.), Commitment and Compliance: The Role of Non-Binding Norms
in the International Legal System, 535 (2000); See generally D. Shelton (ed.),
Commitment and Compliance: The Role of Non-Binding Norms in the International
Legal System (2000); E. Brown Weiss (ed.), International Compliance with Nonbinding
Accords, Studies in Transnational Legal Policy, No. 29 (1998).
 strengthening compliance with climate change695

point in time captures whether States are implementing the agreement.

The assumption has been that most States comply with international
law most of the time.7
Empirical research on compliance by nine States and the European
Union with five international environmental agreements indicates that
the above characterization is not an accurate picture of compliance
with international law.8 The research revealed that compliance is a
dynamic process involving interactions that are vertical, horizontal and
diagonal. A State’s compliance with international law changes over
time in response to certain factors, as does compliance by other actors
with international obligations. Empirical research indicates that most
States do not necessarily comply with international law most of the
time. Often this is because States lack the capacity to comply with the
obligations to which they have agreed.
Compliance can be distinguished from both implementation and
enforcement. It is a broader term, which can encompass both.
Implementation refers to measures that States (or other actors) take to
make international agreements effective in their domestic law.
Compliance goes beyond implementation. It refers to whether States
adhere to the provisions of the agreement and to the implementing
measures they have adopted. We can further distinguish between com-
pliance with procedural obligations, such as regular national reports,
compliance with substantive obligations, such as targets and timetables
to reduce pollutants, and compliance with the spirit of the agreement,
which is the broader normative framework of the agreement. Enforce­
ment refers to the steps States take when a violation of the international
agreement or implementing legislation takes place. As noted, compli-
ance can encompass both implementation and enforcement, because it
calls for assessing whether States (or other actors) meet their obliga-
tions under the agreement. Compliance can also be distinguished from

7
See, e.g., L. Henkin et al., International Law: Cases and Materials (3rd ed. 1993).
8
Brown Weiss (note 4), at 515. The five agreements were: Montreal Protocol
on Substances that Deplete the Ozone Layer, 16 September 1987, UNTS Vol. 1522
No. 26369; International Maritime Organization Convention on the Prevention of
Marine Pollution by Dumping of Wastes and Other Matter, 29 December 1972, 11 ILM
1294 (1972); Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna
and Flora, 3 March 1973, UNTS Vol. 993 No. 14537; United Nations Educational,
Scientific and Cultural Organization Convention for the Protection of the World Cul­
tural and Natural Heritage, 16 November 1972, UNTS Vol. 1037 No. 15511; Inter­
national Tropical Timber Agreement, 18 November 1983, UNTS Vol. 1393 No. 23317.
696 edith brown weiss

effectiveness. The two are related, but not identical. A State may comply
with a treaty, but the treaty may be ineffective in achieving its objec-
tives or in addressing the intended problems. In certain cases an agree-
ment may be effective if the States that are the major actors comply
with it, even if many others do not.

I. Factors Affecting Compliance

Many factors contribute to a State’s implementation of and compliance
with an international agreement. The four key factors are: the charac-
teristics of the activity subject to the international agreement; the char-
acteristics of the agreement; the international environment; and the
elements specific to the State itself. For each of the four factors, the
research found that certain elements were more important than others.
The four factors are discussed below. Since all of the factors interact, it
is somewhat artificial to analyze each separately. In doing so, the quali-
fying premise is “other things being constant”.

1. Characteristics of the Activity

The characteristics of the activity affect the ease with which it can be
controlled. Some activities have minimal economic importance to the
country, while others, such as activities relating to climate change, have
major consequences for the whole economy. Some activities are intrin-
sically not of great economic value, but regulating them can have dis-
ruptive ripple effects on many aspects of the economy. Some are
conducted by large firms, possibly multinational companies, others by
small firms or individuals, or illicit organizations. Some activities are
easy to monitor, others difficult to monitor because they are diverse or
because detection is difficult and intrusive.
The research referenced earlier confirmed the traditional assump-
tion that the smaller the number of actors involved, the easier it is to
regulate the activity and to monitor compliance. For example, in the
early 1990s, there were only a limited number of facilities that pro-
duced ozone-depleting substances. This meant that it was relatively
easy to control production and consumption of the substances under
the Montreal Protocol on Substances that Deplete the Ozone Layer.
The large producers found it in their interest to develop substitutes
and to monitor compliance by competitors to ensure a level playing
field. By contrast, under the Convention on International Trade in
 strengthening compliance with climate change697

Endangered Species, millions of individuals could trade illicitly in

endangered species. Officials charged with controlling exports or
imports often lacked the capacity to ensure compliance with the agree-
ment or were persuaded by payments to ignore illicit trade or other
infractions of the regulations.
While the major contributors to a problem are essential participants
in an agreement, other States are also essential in the long-run. To the
extent that these smaller contributors undermine the overall effective-
ness of the agreement, either initially or over time, or to the extent that
they are perceived as free-riders, the major actors may be less inclined
to comply. Conversely, if many of the States who contribute less to the
problem do comply with the agreement, this can create a favorable cli-
mate for encouraging compliance by all States, including those who are
major contributors.

2. Characteristics of the Agreement

The characteristics of the agreement, the second factor, also affect the
ease and likelihood of compliance. States party to an agreement need to
regard the obligations as equitable, a factor that others have also identi-
fied as important.9 The precision of the obligation affects compliance,
in that the more precise the obligation, the easier it is to promote and
assess compliance. However, in some cases, such as the World Heritage
Convention, which relies on the national context for determining com-
pliance, and those cases in which it is in a country’s national interest to
comply regardless of whether others do, general obligations may be
sufficient and even preferable to overly precise ones. Conversely, if a
State party will suffer if it is complying and others are not, or if others
are free riding, precisely stated obligations may facilitate compliance.
In any case, precisely stated obligations may make it easier to deter-
mine whether or not there is compliance.10 Other important features of
an agreement include: whether the obligations contained in it are bind-
ing or hortatory; whether and how the agreement addresses States not
party to it; and whether there are provisions to facilitate or ensure
implementation and compliance.

E.g., T. M. Franck, Fairness in International Law and Institutions (1995).

    9
10
E. Brown Weiss, Understanding Compliance with International Environmental
Agreements: The Baker’s Dozen Myths, 32 University of Richmond Law Review 1555
(1999); Brown Weiss (note 5).
698 edith brown weiss

3. The International Environment

The international environment can significantly affect national compli-
ance and compliance by other actors. Actions of one State can pressure
others to comply or discourage them from complying. International
organizations, secretariats for the agreements, multilateral develop-
ment banks, nongovernmental organizations, private sector organiza-
tions, transnational expert networks and other groups, and other such
actors can all affect compliance. The secretariats for international
agreements can play a significant role in facilitating compliance,11 but
this role has often been muted in public discussions and overlooked in
the literature.

4. Factors Specific to the Country

The most important factors affecting compliance are those involving
the country. The social, cultural, political, and economic characteristics
of States are the strongest influences affecting implementation and
compliance. These change over time. While most changes do not sig-
nificantly affect compliance, sharp economic or political changes can
significantly affect compliance, either for the better or for the worse.
Leaders can also make a significant difference in a State’s compliance
with its international obligations.
Another important factor relates to whether implementation is
centralized or decentralized. The assumption is often made that
decentralization promotes compliance. This is not necessarily accurate.
In some cases, decentralization may decrease compliance, at least ini-
tially. Local leaders and government organizations may have different
priorities, may respond to inducements for noncompliance, and may
lack capacity. Over time, decentralization may significantly promote
compliance, because the local populations buy into the importance of
complying with the obligations and build the capacity to do so.
The research referenced earlier found a secular trend toward greater
implementation of and compliance with international agreements.
More countries joined the agreements, and they devoted more atten-
tion to implementing and complying with them, and to strengthening
the measures for promoting compliance. Nongovernmental organiza-
tions and sometimes the private sector were important to promoting

11
Brown Weiss (note 10) (Understanding Compliance).
 strengthening compliance with climate change699

and facilitating compliance, as in controlling ozone depleting chemi-

cals. However, not surprisingly, implementation and compliance could
worsen in response to sharp changes in economic and political
conditions.

II. Capacity and Intent

Within countries, two dimensions are essential: a country’s intent to
comply and its capacity to do so. Intention to comply is fundamental,
since a country that has the capacity to comply will do so only if it has
the requisite intention. When a country joins an agreement, it may
intend to comply, or may be substantially in compliance already, or
may not have considered what measures need to be taken to come into
compliance. Sometimes, a country may join an agreement without
intending to comply, or the Foreign Ministry may intend to comply but
the relevant implementing Ministry may be reluctant to change prac-
tices. Intention to comply may also be a matter of prioritization within
the country. The capacity to comply is also essential, for even if a coun-
try intends to comply, it must have the capacity to do so. Capacity has
many aspects, such as an effective and honest bureaucracy and govern-
ance structure, economic resources, technical skills, and political sup-
port. When a country joins an agreement, it may have considerable
capacity to comply, or may be lacking in some or many important
respects.
Countries are in strikingly different positions from each other rela-
tive to these dimensions of capacity and intent when they join agree-
ments, and their positions change over time. In general, the strength
and health of national political and economic systems and a deep pub-
lic commitment are the most important ingredients for strengthened
compliance with international commitments.

III. International Strategies to Encourage Compliance

Three broad international legal and political strategies encourage com-
pliance with international agreements: sunshine methods, positive
incentives, and coercive measures. Sunshine measures include moni-
toring, reporting, review, on-site visits or inspections, access to infor-
mation, transparency, and nongovernmental participation. Positive
incentives include special funds for financial or technical assistance,
capacity building programs, and access to technology. Coercive meas-
ures take the form of penalties, sanctions, withdrawal of membership
700 edith brown weiss

privileges, and “shaming”, which may take the form of publishing viola-
tions of the agreement. These strategies can be matched to the degrees
of intention and capacity in a country (or other relevant actor) to com-
ply with the agreement. Since both intent and capacity can change over
time, the mix of compliance strategies needed to further compliance
also changes over time.
To the extent that a country’s capacity to comply is strong and its
intent also relatively strong, compliance measures that focus on sun-
shine or transparency methods may be especially relevant, with the
threat of coercive measures in the background to help ensure that the
intent to comply remains. If the capacity is there but the intent is weak,
sunshine methods are essential, and coercive measures become more
important as a secondary strategy to have in the background. Incentives
may also have a role in the background, especially if intent is a matter
of priority.
For many countries, the problem of complying with an international
agreement is the lack of capacity to do so. Incentives are essential here,
and they may begin even before a country formally joins the agree-
ment. For countries that have to build capacity but intend to comply,
sunshine methods are important background measures to nurture a
continuing intent to comply. If intent and capacity are weak, then all
three groups of strategies, incentives, sunshine, and sanctions or coer-
cive measures are important.
In practice, a State’s intent and its capacity change over time, and the
elements that are most useful in the three strategies change in response.
There is a dynamic interaction between the two key dimensions and
the compliance strategies, which affects implementation and compli-
ance in the longer term. Extension of the original research suggests that
this analysis is relevant not only for countries that are parties to an
agreement, but also applies to soft law instruments and to actors other
than States that are parties to an agreement.

B. The Conceptual Framework Applied to Climate Change

The conceptual framework developed for the research on compliance

with five international environmental agreements can be applied to cli-
mate change. The framework yields certain insights relevant to struc-
turing measures to promote compliance with obligations to control
greenhouse gas emissions or to support adaptation to climate change.
 strengthening compliance with climate change701

I. Factors Affecting Compliance

The four factors identified earlier are the characteristics of the activity,
the characteristics of the agreement, the international environment,
and the characteristics of the country, especially the cultural, political
and economic ones.

1. Characteristics of the Activity

Climate change is the most all-encompassing and complex problem
that countries have ever addressed. It is inherently long-range and
intergenerational. Climate change involves all countries and all aspects
of the natural system. It deeply affects the economies of all countries.
It involves significant equity issues: the historical contribution of devel-
oped countries to the build-up of greenhouse gas emissions; the pro-
jected contributions of other countries in the future to greenhouse gas
emission; and the burden that anticipated climate change will impose
on poor countries, which have the least resources to adapt effectively to
climate change, and on poor communities within countries, which will
also find it more costly to adapt.
Scientific uncertainty regarding both the effects of greenhouse gas
emissions on climate and the likely scenarios of climate change plague
the field. To date, the likelihood of the worst scenarios seems to be
increasing and on a much more rapid time scale than anticipated.
Perhaps the most important characteristic of climate change is that all
people are locked together now and in the foreseeable future on planet
Earth and will suffer together whatever changes in climate are triggered
by human activities. The analogy is to a ship, which has a big hole in it.
The ship will sink unless those on board can work together to repair it
and to ensure that it continues on its voyage, regardless of who caused
the hole.

2. Characteristics of the Agreements

Three accords address climate change: the United Nations Framework
Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC),12 the Kyoto Protocol,13

12
United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, 9 May 1992, UNTS
Vol. 1771 No. 30822.
13
Kyoto Protocol to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate
Change, 11 December 1997, UNTS Vol. 2303 No. 30822.
702 edith brown weiss

and the Copenhagen Accord,14 which was expressly not designated as a

legal instrument, although it has subsequently been treated as one in
significant ways. These agreements reflect the principle of common but
differentiated responsibilities.15
The UNFCCC is notable in that membership in the agreement is
universal–it has 194 parties and two countries as observers as of
31 August 2010. The Convention imposes obligations on States parties
in accordance with categories determined by economic situation. All
countries are obligated to provide information on sources and sinks of
greenhouse gases, as well as steps taken or envisaged to reduce emis-
sions or adapt to climate change. In addition, Annex I lists developed
countries and countries with economies in transition, which are obli-
gated to adopt national policies to limit greenhouse gas emissions.
Annex II lists developed countries only, which are obligated to provide
financial resources to developing countries to undertake measures to
limit GHG emissions or to adapt to adverse effects of climate change.
Developing countries not listed in Annex I have no specific mitigation
obligations.
The Kyoto Protocol to the UNFCCC contains targets and a timetable
for the thirty-seven Annex B industrialized countries to reduce emis-
sions of greenhouse gases. Annex B countries include all Parties which
were listed under Annex I of the UNFCCC when the Kyoto Protocol
was adopted. Like the UNFCCC, membership in the Kyoto Protocol is
almost universal–192 States and the European Union. The United
States is not, however, a party to the Kyoto Protocol, which means that
while membership of countries is nearly universal, coverage of green-
house gas emissions is by no means comprehensive. The Kyoto Protocol
provides for a compliance mechanism, which includes both a facilita-
tive and an enforcement arm. It requires Annex B countries to submit
regular reports on their greenhouse gas emissions.
The Copenhagen Accord is officially not a legal instrument. However,
as of 19 August 2010, 138 countries had listed themselves as agreeing to
the Accord. Annex I countries have posted quantified economy-wide
emission targets for 2020, most of which are conditional on commit-
ments by other Annex I countries. Several non-Annex I, or developing,

14
Copenhagen Accord, 19 December 2009, UN Doc. FCCC/CP/2009/11/Add.1
(2010).
15
Rio Declaration on Environment and Development, 14 June 1992, 31 ILM 874
(1992); see UNFCCC (supra note 12).
 strengthening compliance with climate change703

countries have posted nationally appropriate mitigation actions. Many

have indicated their wish to associate with the Accord without submit-
ting specific planned actions. The Accord is open to all countries,
accepts different national approaches to reducing emissions, and refer-
ences monitoring and review of commitments.
As part of the Copenhagen negotiations, developing countries,
which are expected to suffer major damage from climate change, made
a non-negotiable demand for assistance to help them cope with climate
change. The developed countries pledged additional funding for miti-
gation and adaptation, which approached 30 billion for the period 2010
to 2012, and 100 billion per year by 2020. They prioritized least devel-
oped countries, small island states, and Africa, which are the most vul-
nerable to climate change. The modalities for dissemination of the
funds remain to be determined. And the pledged amounts have yet to
be met.16

3. The International Environment

In the almost two decades since the first report of the Intergovernmental
Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) in 1991, scientific understanding of
climate change has advanced rapidly, the predicted climatic changes
have become more dramatic and serious, and the predictions expressed
with greater certainty. The Fourth Assessment in 2007 found that
“[w]arming of the climate system is unequivocal, as is now evident
from observations of increases in global average air and ocean tem-
peratures, widespread melting of snow and ice, and rising global aver-
age sea level.”17 It concluded that “[m]ost of the observed increase in
global average temperatures since the mid-20th century is very likely
due to the observed increase in anthropogenic greenhouse gas concen-
trations.”18 More recently, some of the IPCC’s worst case scenarios have
become more realistic. Countries have experienced more extreme
weather events, with great cost to the health and welfare of peoples.

16
The Cancun Adaptation Framework reaffirms these commitments and decides to
establish the Green Climate Fund and a Standing Committee to facilitate implementa-
tion, but leaves the final design of these bodies to be determined. Cancun Adaptation
Framework, 10 December 2010, Draft Decision -/CP.16 (2010), available at http://
unfccc.int/files/meetings/cop_16/application/pdf/cop16_lca.pdf.
17
S. Solomon et al. (eds.), Climate Change 2007: The Physical Science Basis,
Contribution of Working Group I to the Fourth Assessment Report of the
Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, at 5 (2007).
18
Id., at 10.
704 edith brown weiss

This has brought climate change much more to the fore, in the con-
cerns of governments, the private sector, communities, and ­individuals.
This international environment is more conducive to developing meas-
ures to address climate change, both in terms of policies and actions to
reduce the carbon footprint and to adapt to climate change. It may also
put pressure on all actors to implement and to comply with whatever
obligations they undertake.

4. Country Specific Factors

To address climate change, countries must have the political support
and economic capacity to take the measures needed. In the United
States, for example, Congress has refused to pass the legislation neces-
sary to take major steps to control greenhouse gas emissions, though
the country has the economic capacity to do so. The private sector,
nongovernmental organizations, and individuals also affect compli-
ance. To the extent that the private sector desires predictability in regu-
lation and a level playing field in greenhouse gas regulation, it may
support international agreements and help to monitor compliance
with its obligations. The large private producers of the ozone depleting
chemicals governed by the Montreal Protocol on Substances that
Deplete the Ozone Layer had an interest in an international agreement
to ensure a level playing field and were effective, if quiet, monitors of
the compliance of other companies with the agreement.
Large economic dislocations can affect compliance. To the extent
that there is a global recession, or significant national deflation or infla-
tion, countries may be less likely both to adopt important measures to
control greenhouse gas emissions and to ensure implementation and
compliance with them. The fundamental problem in climate change is
that many of the benefits appear in the longer term, and the political
and economic costs are felt today.

II. Capacity and Intent

From a global perspective, controlling the build-up of greenhouse
gases is for the developed countries foremost a matter of intent and
secondarily a matter of capacity. To be sure, there are important
problems of capacity for developed countries: the lack of reasonably
available or politically acceptable energy technologies that are not
carbon-based or the failure to introduce those that are available on a
 strengthening compliance with climate change705

sufficiently broad scale; the absence of means for storing carbon;

­economic dependence on agricultural or industrial practices that gen-
erate high emissions; the difficulties in protecting forests and their
soils; and the inability to prevent or control natural phenomena such as
wildfires that contribute to greenhouse gas emissions, etc. However,
the primary problem is a matter of intent: the intent to develop or adopt
alternative energy sources, low emission industrial and agricultural
practices, etc. In part this is a matter of priority.
For developing countries, the issue is primarily one of capacity and
secondarily a matter of intent, to the extent that mitigating or protect-
ing against climate change siphons off funds that would otherwise be
available for economic development in the immediate term. For those
countries that are home to extensive tropical forests, both the capacity
of the country to protect the forests and the intent to do so are at issue.
Some countries may lack adequate capacity, including effective govern-
ance structures, to control deforestation and protect forests, even if the
intent were there. Others may have increasing capacity to control
deforestation and degradation, but the intent in certain regions of the
country or of certain officials may be weak.
In contrast to mitigation, adaptation is foremost a problem of capac-
ity. For some countries, the adaptations will be extremely costly and
burdensome. The poorest countries will suffer most, because they have
the least capacity to adapt. This helps to explain the dual focus of the
Copenhagen Conference: to provide funds to poor countries to help
them address the effects of climate change and to encourage countries
to be willing to adopt measures to control greenhouse gas emissions.
The most important incentive for adopting measures and for facili-
tating and ensuring compliance with them is that we are all locked
together on the Earth. If there is a large hole in the ship, in the form of
human induced climate change, we will all sink together unless we
manage the hole. Each of us can say that it is the other’s problem, but
in the end, it is a problem for all of us. The difficulty is that by the time
countries realize this, they may conclude that the situation is so dire
that fixing the hole is pointless. More hopefully, they may conclude
that fixing the problem requires new and very strong modes of coop-
eration. The fact that we are locked inescapably together in the Earth’s
climate system provides the strongest incentive to develop the intent
and build the capacity to address climate change and manage its effects
globally.
706 edith brown weiss

III. Compliance Strategies and Procedural Commitments*

Since each country’s intent and capacity to comply with international
obligations related to climate change differs from one another and
changes over time in response to certain factors, it is essential to have
the full suite of compliance strategies available for States to use: sun-
shine, incentives, and coercive measures. Sometimes these strategies
are most effectively deployed at the subnational levels.
To understand compliance with climate change commitments, it is
useful to look at compliance to date by both developed and developing
countries with obligations in the United Nations Framework Agreement
on Climate Change and of the developed countries under the Kyoto
Protocol to the UNFCCC. The research looks empirically at compli-
ance with the procedural obligations, since the period of time in which
countries must fulfill substantive commitments under the Protocol is
still in the future.

1. Procedural Obligations under the UNFCCC and the Kyoto Protocol

The UNFCCC and Kyoto Protocol establish extensive reporting
requirements to monitor emissions and removals of greenhouse gases,
their effects, and measures taken to mitigate and adapt to these effects.
Countries must gather and report information on direct greenhouse
gases, including carbon dioxide (CO2), methane (CH4), nitrous oxide
(N2O), perfluorocarbons (PFCs), hydrofluorocarbons (HFCs), and
sulphur hexafluoride (SF6). They must also report on indirect green-
house gases including sulfur dioxide (SO2), nitrogen oxide (NOx),
carbon monoxide (CO), and non-methane volatile organic compounds
(NMVOC).
The UNFCCC requires both developed countries listed in Annex I
and developing countries not listed in Annex I to submit regular
national communications. Annex I countries must also submit annual
greenhouse gas inventories (GHG inventories). The Kyoto Protocol
requires Annex I countries to include additional information in their
national communications and greenhouse gas inventories (see below).
Regular submissions by parties to the Kyoto Protocol and parties to the
UNFCCC which are not party to the Kyoto Protocol are identical
except for this additional information. In addition, parties to the Kyoto

* This section and accompanying figures are co-authored with Lydia Slobodian.
 strengthening compliance with climate change707

Protocol must submit occasional additional reports not required under

the UNFCCC.19
Under the UNFCCC, non-Annex I countries must submit national
communications within three years of the Convention’s entry into force
or of the receipt of financial aid. Least developed countries are granted
greater flexibility. Communications must include information on rele-
vant national circumstances, greenhouse gas inventory data, steps
taken or envisaged to reduce emissions or adapt to climate change, and
other relevant information such as research, education, and technology-
transfer measures.20 Most countries have submitted their initial com-
munication and are preparing their second, and several have submitted
their second and are preparing their third. These are the only submis-
sions required from non-Annex I countries under the UNFCCC and
the Kyoto Protocol.
Annex I countries party to the UNFCCC must submit national
communications according to deadlines set by the Conference of the
Parties, in practice every four to five years. National communications
must include a description of their national circumstances relevant to
emissions and removals, greenhouse gas inventory information, poli-
cies and measures adopted to mitigate climate change and their
estimated effects, projections of future emissions trends, adaptation
measures taken, measures taken to promote technology transfer and
capacity building in developing countries, research and observa-
tion projects, and education, training, and public awareness building
programs.21
In addition, Annex I countries must submit GHG inventories every
year. These consist of data tables in a common reporting format (CRF)
and a descriptive National Inventory Report (NIR).22 They must include
detailed information on the sources and sinks of greenhouse gases.
Annex I countries party to the Kyoto Protocol23 must include
additional information in the national communications and GHG

19
 No formal reporting mechanism has been established under the Copenhagen
Accord. However, much of the information relevant to the Accord is already required
under the UNFCCC, including information on GHG inventories, measures taken to
mitigate and adapt to climate change and their projected effects, and financial aid and
technology transfer.
20
Decision 17/CP.8, UN Doc. FCCC/CP/2002/7/Add.2 (2003).
21
UNFCCC Guidelines on Reporting and Review, Conference of the Parties, 5th
Sess., 25 October–5 November 1999, UN Doc. FCCC/CP/1999/7 (2000).
22
Id.
23
The Kyoto Protocol refers to Annex B countries for this category.
708 edith brown weiss

inventories required under the UNFCCC. In their national communi-

cations they must include supplementary information relating to the
use of flexible mechanisms, projected achievement of target reduc-
tions, and steps taken to build capacity in developing countries.24 In
their annual GHG inventories they must include information related to
land use, land use change, and forestry (LULUCF), trade under the
flexible mechanisms, and minimization of adverse impacts on develop-
ing countries.25 Annex I States that are party to the Kyoto Protocol are
also required to submit an initial report used to calculate base year and
target emissions, and a progress report on measures taken to meet
commitments.

2. Compliance with Procedural Obligations by Annex I States

Timeliness and completeness of Annex I States’ submissions have
increased over time. The increase in timeliness is evident in the sub-
mission dates of the three national communications due in 2001, 2006,
and 2010. Figure 1 plots dates of submission of third, fourth, and fifth
national communications by Annex I States, with the deadlines marked
by a bold line. In relation to the 2001 deadline, 37% of countries sub-
mitted national communications within two months, 39% within three
months, and 51% within six months. In relation to the 2006 deadline,
34% submitted within 2 months, 44% within three months, and 56%
within six months. In relation to the 2010 deadline, 85% submitted
within two months, 90% within three months, and 95% within six
months.
Analysis of submission dates of national GHG inventories suggests a
similar trend. Figure 2 plots dates of submission of annual inventories
since 2003, with April 15th deadlines shown by vertical lines. In 2003,
64% of countries submitted inventories on or before the deadline, and
83% within two months. In 2010, 93% of countries submitted invento-
ries on or before the deadline and 100% within two months.
In addition to timeliness, completeness of reporting is an important
component of compliance with procedural obligations. Completeness
refers to whether the report includes the required components and fol-
lows the required format. A comparison of the structures of National
Inventory Reports with the recommended structure published by the

24
Kyoto Protocol (see supra note 13), Article 7; Decision 15/CMP.1, UN Doc.
FCCC/KP/CMP/2005/8/Add.2 (2006).
25
Id.
 strengthening compliance with climate change709

Figure 1. Timeliness of National Communications to the UNFCCC

by Annex I Parties
* No commitment under Kyoto Protocol.
Source of data: UNFCCC, Annex I National Communications, available at http://
unfccc.int/national_reports/annex_i_natcom/submitted_natcom/items/4903.php.
710 edith brown weiss

Figure 2. Timeliness of Annual Greenhouse Gas Inventory Submis­

sions to the UNFCCC by Annex I Parties
* No commitment under Kyoto Protocol.
** Annex I party for the purposes of the Kyoto Protocol but not Annex I for the pur-
poses of the UNFCCC.
Source of data: UNFCCC, National Inventory Submissions, available at http://unfccc
.int/national_reports/annex_i_ghg_inventories/national_inventories_submissions/
items/5270.php.
 strengthening compliance with climate change711

40

35
Number of submissions

30

25

20

15

10

0
2004 2005 2006 2007 2008 2009
Year of submission
Follows Guidelines Does Not Follow Guidelines or Missing Chapter

Figure 3. Annex I National Inventory Reports’ Compliance with

UNFCCC Formatting Guidelines
Source of data: UNFCCC, National Inventory Reports of Annex I Parties, available
at http://unfccc.int/national_reports/annex_i_ghg_inventories/national_inventories
_submissions/items/5270.php.

UNFCCC26 shows that compliance with formatting guidelines and

inclusion of required components has improved over time (Figure 3).
In 2004, 61% of submissions followed the recommended guidelines,
and 28% did not follow guidelines or were missing chapters. In 2009,
83% of submissions followed the recommended structure, and 17% did
not follow guidelines or were missing chapters.
The main strategy used to encourage compliance with Annex I
procedural obligations under the UNFCCC is transparency through
review of submissions and publication of compliance data. Annex I
national communications are subject to an in-depth review conducted
by an international expert review team which includes both a desk-
based study and an in-country visit. GHG inventories are subject to a
three-part annual technical review, consisting of 1) a status report pre-
pared by the Secretariat, which evaluates whether the inventory is com-
plete and in the correct format; 2) a synthesis and assessment that
results in a compilation of GHG data and preliminary assessment of
individual submissions; and 3) an individual review conducted by an

26
Decision 18/CP.8, UN Doc. FCCC/CP/2002/7/Add.2 (2003).
712 edith brown weiss

expert review team, which can include an in-country visit. The status
reports, GHG data compilations, and individual reviews are published
on the UNFCCC website.27
Inconsistency in review methodology and standards could under-
mine the usefulness of a review system. There is some evidence of
inconsistency in the status reports comprising the first step in the
three-part annual technical review. For example, the status reports
­prepared by the UNFCCC secretariat for Norway for 2006 and 2008
state that the submissions lacked certain annexes, while the 2007 report
describes the submission only as following guidelines, though it also
does not contain the annexes listed as missing in the surrounding years.
The 2007 status report for Romania describes it as missing the recom-
mended annex “Assessment of Completeness”, while the reports for
Switzerland and Norway from the same year describe them only as fol-
lowing guidelines, though none of the countries includes an Annex on
“Assessment of Completeness”, the lack of which was pointed out in the
preceding and succeeding reports of Switzerland. This points to varia-
tion in reviewing practices applied to different countries and in differ-
ent years in the preliminary stage of the three part reviewing process.
There is no indication, however, of inconsistency in the in-depth
reviews conducted by expert review teams, which comprises the third
stage of the process.
As part of the review process, the expert review teams under the
UNFCCC have undertaken site visits to Annex I countries. Most
Annex I countries have received five in-country visits since 1995: three
as part of in-depth reviews of national communications, and two
as part of annual technical reviews of greenhouse gas submissions.
In some cases, countries have been subject to two in-country visits in
the same year, as in the case of Greece, which was subject to an
in-country visit to review its annual GHG inventory in September of
2004, and an in-country visit to review its national communication in
November of 2004.
The Kyoto Protocol to the UNFCCC largely relies on the review
mechanisms established by the UNFCCC, but also incorporates provi-
sions for sanctions to encourage compliance with procedural obliga-
tions. In reviewing national communications of States party to the
Kyoto Protocol, expert review teams identify potential questions of

27
http://unfccc.int/national_reports/annex_i_ghg_inventories/inventory_review
_reports/items/4704.php.
 strengthening compliance with climate change713

implementation to raise with the Kyoto Protocol Compliance Com­

mittee. Parties can also raise questions of implementation against other
Parties. The Facilitative Branch of the Committee can provide techni-
cal or financial assistance to encourage compliance.28 The enforcement
branch may impose sanctions including suspension of eligibility to
participate in the flexible mechanisms provided by the Protocol.
The enforcement branch under the Kyoto Protocol has dealt with
four questions of implementation regarding compliance with pro­
cedural obligations.29 In three of these cases, pertaining to Greece,
Croatia, and Bulgaria, the enforcement branch found the country to be
in non-compliance and suspended its eligibility to participate in the
flexible mechanisms. Greece regained use of these mechanisms after it
submitted and revised a compliance action plan and the enforcement
branch found it to be in compliance. Greece did so six months after the
final finding of non-compliance and less than one year after the ques-
tion was first raised. Bulgaria submitted a Compliance Action Plan on
4 October 2010 in response to a finding of noncompliance in June
2010. Croatia intended to appeal the final decision against it as of
December 2009. The rapid responses by Greece and Bulgaria indicate
the effect of the imposition of sanctions on countries’ intent to comply.
The sanctions imposed were tailored to influence intent by creating
incentives–regaining use of flexible mechanisms–but not limiting
capacity to return to a state of compliance, which may have contributed
to their successful application in these cases.
The first and only question of implementation discussed in the
Facilitative Branch of the Kyoto Protocol Compliance Committee was
raised in 2006 by South Africa and China on behalf of developing
countries against fifteen Annex I countries who had failed to submit
progress reports due six months before.30 The Facilitative Branch was
unable to reach the necessary three-fourths majority on whether or not
to proceed, but despite the lack of formal resolution, all but two coun-
tries submitted their reports before the end of the year. This may reflect
in part indirect pressure to comply exerted by countries against each
other. It suggests the importance of the international environment in
fostering a culture of compliance.

28
Decision 24/CP.7, UN Doc. FCCC/CP/2001/13/Add.3 (2002).
29
UNFCCC, Compliance under the Kyoto Protocol, available at http://unfccc.int/
kyoto_protocol/compliance/items/2875.php.
30
UNFCCC, Question of Implementation–Several Parties included in Annex I,
available at http://unfccc.int/playground/items/5516.php.
714 edith brown weiss

3. Compliance with Procedural Obligations by Non-Annex I States

Reporting by non-Annex I countries has been high. Of 153 non-Annex I
countries, 138 have submitted initial national communications and 24
have submitted second national communications.31 Mexico has also
submitted third and fourth national communications. Incentives, par-
ticularly the provision of funding, reinforced by sunshine methods
may contribute to these rates of reporting. Funding for preparation of
national communications is available through the Global Environment
Facility (GEF). As of July 2010, 142 countries have received funding for
preparation of initial or second national communications, of which
129 have submitted communications.32
A comparison between data on disbursement of funding33 and data
on submissions of initial national communications34 shows that non-
Annex I countries that received funding for preparation of initial
national communications, submitted national communications on
average 3.4 years after receiving funding. Non-Annex I countries that
are not least developed countries were required to submit reports
within three years of the initial disbursement, and actually submitted
reports on average 3.2 years after the initial disbursement. Least devel-
oped countries35 were granted greater flexibility, but still submitted
reports on average 4 years after the initial disbursement of funding.
To evaluate the effect of funding on submission rates, it is useful to
compare the performance of those countries which received funding at
least three years ago with those which are still within three years of the
initial disbursement or have not received funding at all (Figure 4). Of
countries that received funding by October 2007, 95% of least ­developed

31
In comparison, under the WTO compliance rates are consistently 50% or less.
WTO Council for Trade in Goods, Updating of the Listing of Notification Obligations
and the Compliance Therewith as Set Out in Annex III of the Report of the Working
Group on Notification Obligations and Procedures, G/L/223/Rev.17 (2010).
32
 Global Environment Facility, Report of the GEF to the Sixteenth Session of the
Conference of the Parties to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate
Change (2010).
33
Information on financial support provided by the Global Environment Facility
for the Preparation of National Communications from Parties not Included in Annex
I to the Convention, UN Doc. FCCC/SBI/2009/INF.11 (2009).
34
UNFCCC, Non-Annex I National Communications, available at http://unfccc
.int/national_reports/non-annex_i_natcom/items/2979.php.
35
Least developed countries are defined by the United Nations Economic and Social
Council based on three criteria: income, human resources, and economic vulnerability.
See Economic and Social Council, Report on the Sixth Session, UN Doc. E/2004/33
(2004).
 strengthening compliance with climate change715

Figure 4. Percentage of Least Developed Countries and Other Non-

Annex I Countries that Submitted National Communications by
Receipt of Funding
Source of data: UNFCCC, Non-Annex I National Communications, available at
http://unfccc.int/national_reports/non-annex_i_natcom/items/2979.php;
Information on Financial Support Provided by the Global Environment Facility for the
Preparation of National Communications from Parties not Included in Annex I to the
Convention, UN Doc. FCCC/SBI/2009/INF.11 (2009).

countries and 96% of other non-Annex I countries have submitted

national communications. Of countries that did not receive funding by
October 2007, only 33% of least developed countries and 67% of other
non-Annex I countries have submitted national communications. This
suggests a strong connection between provision of funding and com-
pliance with procedural obligations, particularly in the case of least
developed countries.
Sunshine mechanisms reinforce these incentives. Submitted national
communications are publicly available on the UNFCCC website.36
These are not subject to formal review, but are examined by a

36
Id.
716 edith brown weiss

Consultative Group of Experts with the aim of identifying ways to

improve access to resources and to facilitate compliance.37

IV. Designing a Strategy of Compliance for

Climate Change Commitments
The record of compliance by Annex I countries with the obligations
under the UNFCCC to provide national communications and to file
annual greenhouse gas inventories is admirable. Nearly all Annex I
countries have submitted national communications and increasingly
on time. The Annex I countries have also filed annual greenhouse gas
inventories on a timely basis, and the National Inventory Reports of
Annex I countries have increasingly followed the UNFCCC formatting
guidelines. Under the UNFCCC, most non-Annex I countries have,
when given assistance, submitted national communications close to
the target date.
Several features of this compliance record are important. First, the
compliance strategy at the treaty level focuses on transparency, review
and onsite visits. Monitoring, review, and verification are essential to
determining whether countries comply with obligations. They are tech­
niques associated with a sunshine strategy, which lets other States par-
ties, the private sector and civil society be aware of whether a given State
is in compliance. Second, the incentive strategy in the form of technical
assistance to enable countries to develop and submit national commu-
nications has been effective for those countries that need to build the
capacity to comply. It is also helpful in promoting the intent to comply.
Sanctions have been rarely referenced, though there is evidence sug-
gesting that the threat of withdrawing a State party’s right to participate
in all the benefits of the Kyoto Protocol indirectly promotes compliance.
As we look to the future, an agreement that includes measures for
transparency, including reporting, monitoring and review, and multi-
ple incentives that build capacity to comply or that provide economic
or other inducements will be essential to strengthening compliance
with the agreement. The precise combination of measures needed will
vary by country, by regions or sectors within countries, and over time.
The threat of coercive measures, even if only in the loss of benefits of
membership in the accord, may be useful in strengthening a country’s
intent to comply.

37
Decision 8/CP.5, UN Doc. FCCC/CP/1999/6/Add.1 (2000).
 strengthening compliance with climate change717

It is likely that many of the measures that must be taken to mitigate

climate change, or to adapt to it, will not be required by a formal inter-
national agreement. Rather, they may be contained in nonbinding legal
instruments or in diverse voluntary actions that countries, the private
sector, and civil society undertake. What can be done to strengthen
compliance with commitments made under these circumstances?
The literature that focuses on compliance with informal social norms
is relevant to this issue.38 Research suggests that six postulates are espe-
cially relevant, and these will be addressed in turn.
The first postulate is that binding agreements are not critical to
successful, continuing relationships if there is a strong relationship
between the participants and the desire and/or need to maintain an
ongoing relationship. This postulate derives from research on the role
of contracts in business relationships, which found that hard enforce-
able contract agreements are not necessarily essential for successful
continuing business relationships if the above conditions exist.39
Successful non-contractual relationships need parties that deal with
each other permanently in circumstances in which there is mutual
dependence. There is either an ingrained morality or a need for the
participants to deal with each other face-to-face so that group pres-
sures and extra-legal sanctions can be brought to bear to ensure com-
pliance. In the context of addressing global climate change, this suggests
that it is important to States and other actors to come together in a
process that requires them to interact continuously over time.
The second postulate is that the reputation factor is important to
inducing compliance with a nonbinding norm or with one that the
community has not yet fully internalized. For this to be effective, there
must be consensus about the worth of engaging in or abstaining from
a specific action, a risk that others will detect engagement in the act,
and that such detection will be publicized within the relevant commu-
nity. The assumption underlying all of this is that the State or other
actor needs the approbation of the community. This applies to corpo-
rate behavior as well as that of States and other actors. Businessmen, for

38
For application of the literature to compliance with soft law instruments, see
Brown Weiss (note 6).
39
See, e.g., S. Macaulay, An Empirical View of Contract, 1985 Wisconsin Law
Review 465 (1985); I. R. MacNeil, Relational Contract: What We Do and Do Not Know,
1985 Wis. L. Rev. 483 (1985); R. H. McAdams, Accounting for Norms, 1997 Wis.
L. Rev. 625 (1997).
718 edith brown weiss

example, are concerned about their reputation and its effects on future
business.
The compliance strategies enunciated earlier that focus on transpar-
ency, reporting, monitoring, review, public access to information, and
public participation are important to making reputation an effective
means of promoting compliance with nonbinding or voluntary norms.
They provide a means for determining whether a participant is com-
plying or not with its commitments, even if they are voluntarily
undertaken.
The third postulate is that there needs to be consensus on the under-
lying norms. These norms may be informal standards of behavior,
guidelines, or self-imposed informal rules or commitments. The pro-
cess for developing the consensus also has to be viewed as legitimate by
the relevant community. This, in turn, gives legitimacy to the norm.
If the norm is perceived as legitimate, compliance is more likely.
In the context of climate change, this means that the international
community needs to develop a consensus on the underlying norms,
which might be on general principles, such as equity in burden sharing,
intergenerational equity, sustainable development, or on specific goals,
as articulated by agreement on the acceptable level of degree of tem-
perature warming by a given date.
Legitimacy of process raises difficult issues. Should a relatively small
group of countries with the largest GNPs negotiate the consensus on
norms on the basis that the process would be more efficient and more
detailed, or must the building of the consensus involve all countries,
even if the process is slower? In the long run, it is essential to involve all
countries, since all are joined together in climate change issues, and
since the process needs to be viewed as legitimate by all members of the
community. In the immediate term, it may be essential for those who
have contributed most or are doing so now or in the near-term to work
together to take effective steps to mitigate climate change.
The fourth postulate is that for informal social norms, the institu-
tional setting in which they are developed and implemented affects
compliance with them. The pioneering work by Ostrom on voluntary
common pool resource allocation systems suggests that certain condi-
tions are necessary for effective systems.40 These include clearly defined

40
E. Ostrom, Governing the Commons: The Evolution of Institutions for Collective
Action (1990).
 strengthening compliance with climate change719

boundaries for the resource, monitoring of actions and access to infor-

mation, an opportunity for those affected by the system to participate
in modifying the operational rules, access to low-cost fora for resolving
disputes, and graduated sanctions imposed by fellow participants.
Studies on Antarctica, on the Helsinki Accords in international human
rights and on the IAEA guidelines, support this.
For climate change, this means that the institutional forum(s) in
which countries develop and implement commitments to mitigate or
adapt to climate change will be an important factor affecting compli-
ance. It provides support for an institutional setting in which countries
come together and account for what they are doing. It may also point
to involving civil society, the private sector and other relevant actors as
participants in some mode in the institutional forums.
The fifth postulate is that private actors may find it more efficient to
agree upon informal social norms and to develop their own informal
cost-effective approach to ensure compliance with them. This rests
upon the assumption that the participants believe the norms are equi-
table, for otherwise they would not be willing to comply with them,
unless forced to do so. This postulate may be important to certain sec-
tors of the economy. It requires a way to convey information accurately,
such as by the market, and ways effectively to monitor behavior.
The final postulate concerns the threat of legal enforcement. Some
of the literature on informal social norms indicates that it is important
to have sanctions available as a credible threat in order to encourage
compliance with the informal norms. This tracks the findings for com-
pliance with binding international environmental accords. In writing
about common pool resources, both Ostrom41 and Ellickson42 empha-
size that participants need to have graduated sanctions available that
they can use collectively to induce compliance by individual partici-
pants. To put this in the context of findings about compliance with
binding agreements, when an actor has the capacity to comply but
lacks intent, graduated sanctions may be needed to alter intent and
promote compliance.
In the context of climate change, this suggests that the international
community will still need to have ways to try to compel behavior by
errant participants. The options should be diverse and graduated.

41
Id., at 19.
42
R. C. Ellickson, Order Without Law: How Neighbors Settle Disputes (1991).
720 edith brown weiss

A consensus on employing them will be important to maintaining

their effectiveness and the cohesion of the community.
The analysis on compliance with soft law norms has implications for
the Copenhagen Accord. Though the Accord was formally not adopted
as a legal instrument and is not binding, there are ways to structure the
ongoing relationship between those who have signed onto the Accord
so as to promote compliance with the commitments that countries
have voluntarily undertaken.
Climate change presents the ultimate test of whether we are capable
of pulling together to address a common long-term threat to the well-
being of ourselves and future generations. If we view our planet as a
large ship, we need to agree on measures to slow the rate at which the
hole grows bigger and ultimately to keep it from exceeding a tipping
point at which catastrophic changes in climate occur. At the same time,
we need to initiate measures to assist those affected by the hole to adjust
to the changes. And this must be done in a context in which our scien-
tific understanding of the problem will change over time. This means
giving greater attention to structuring a long-term relationship that
can create a culture of compliance in the international community at
multiple levels with binding norms and measures and with informal
nonbinding and voluntary measures. Transparency, monitoring and
review, access to information, public participation, and effective insti-
tutional settings will be essential to strengthening compliance with our
climate change commitments.
 The Global Climate Regime: Wither Common
Concern?

Jutta Brunnée

A. Introduction

Throughout his distinguished career, Rüdiger Wolfrum has been inter-

ested in the role that international law plays in governing the global
commons and in promoting cooperation and solidarity in interna-
tional efforts to protect the commons. The global climate may not
be a “commons” in quite the same way as the oceans or Antarctica, on
both of which Professor Wolfrum has been a leading authority. But it
poses many of the conceptual and treaty-making challenges that have
been prominent in Rüdiger Wolfrum’s work. Hence, I take my contri-
bution to this Festschrift as an opportunity to reflect on some key
strands of global climate law and on the main trends in the efforts to
develop a legal regime on global climate change. Specifically, I explore
the legal implications of the proposition that global climate change is a
common concern of humankind. I then consider the evolution of the
treaty-based regime anchored in the United Nations Framework
Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) and its core principle of
common but differentiated responsibilities. Finally, I reflect on the
implications of an apparent turn away from centralized law-making
and compliance control in relation to global climate change. My goal in
this contribution is not to undertake exhaustive legal analysis or to
reach definite conclusions. Rather, my aim is to adopt something of a
bird’s eye perspective and to highlight broad themes and
developments.

B. Global Climate Change as Common Concern of

Humankind

The preamble of the UNFCCC begins by acknowledging that “change

in the Earth’s climate and its adverse effects are a common concern of
722 jutta brunnée

humankind”.1 This statement is an appropriate opening for a global

treaty that has as its objective to avert “dangerous anthropogenic inter-
ference with the climate system”.2 But before turning to the UN climate
regime itself, it is worth exploring what if any status the concept of
common concern has in international law, and what its legal implica-
tions may be in the context of climate change. In particular, do states
have an obligation to address climate change, and what if any are the
legal consequences of failures to do so? Answering these questions
helps appreciate the role and approach of the UN climate regime.
The conceptual framework of international environmental law
remains firmly rooted in the balancing of sovereign interests. The
proposition that underpins the foundational “no harm” principle is
that states may use their territories and resources as they see fit, pro-
vided that no serious harm is caused to the territories of other states or
areas beyond national jurisdiction.3 In this framework, environmental
concerns are legally relevant only when they entail an interference with
states’ sovereign rights. It is readily apparent that this conceptual
framework is not well suited to a global issue like climate change. While
some states’ contributions to the problem may be larger than others, it
is the cumulative effect of states’ actions that produces global climate
change. It would be difficult to demonstrate that an individual state’s
emissions, for example, are causing harm to a particular state.
Climate change, then, is not the kind of transboundary pollution
contemplated by the no harm rule. Furthermore, while the effects of
climate change are felt by individual states, states also have a collective
interest in protecting the global climate system. But given the emphasis
of the legal framework on interferences with sovereign rights, do states
have a legal interest in climate protection? This question ties into the
broader question whether states, in addition to their individual rights,
have legal rights in relation to certain collective concerns of the inter-
national community.4 Since the obiter dictum of the International
Court of Justice (ICJ) in the Barcelona Traction case, it has been gener-
ally accepted that some obligations are owed to the “international com-
munity as a whole”. According to the ICJ, these obligations are “the

1
UNFCCC, 9 May 1992, 31 ILM 849 (1992).
2
 Id., Article 2.
3
See J. Brunnée, Sic Utere Tuo, in: R. Wolfrum (ed.), Max Planck Encyclopedia of
Public International Law (2008), available at www.mpepil.com.
4
See e.g. B. Simma, From Bilateralism to Community Interest in International Law,
250 Recueil des Cours 217 (1994).
 the global climate regime: wither common concern? 723

concern of all States”, and all States “have a legal interest in their protec-
tion”.5 Given the wording of the UNFCCC preamble, can we conclude
that all states have a legal interest in the protection of the climate sys-
tem and, conversely, that individual states owe such protection erga
omnes?
The concept of common concern of humankind is applicable to
environmental concerns that arise beyond the jurisdiction of states as
well as those that arise within individual states. Importantly, it is not
areas or resources that are common concerns, but certain environmen-
tal processes or protective actions.6 Hence, in the UNFCCC, it is not
the climate system itself that is said to be of concern to all states, but
changes in the climate and attendant adverse effects. As far as legal
effects are concerned, the concept of common concern does not entail
specific rules for the conduct of states. But it does suggest that states’
freedom of action may be subject to limits even when other states’ sov-
ereign rights are not affected in a manner that would engage the no
harm principle. Such limits flow precisely from the fact that the con-
cept identifies the degradation of certain areas or resources as of con-
cern to all.
However, the practice of states leaves unclear whether the concept of
common concern entails environmental protection obligations that are
owed erga omnes.7 Indeed, it is uncertain whether the concept unfolds
any legal effects in the absence of a treaty that identifies a concern as
“common”. Although the 1992 Rio Declaration on Environment and
Development calls upon states “to cooperate in a spirit of global part-
nership to conserve, protect and restore the health and integrity of the
Earth’s ecosystem”8, it has been more common for states to identify
specific common concerns, such as climate change or the conservation
of biodiversity, through a treaty.9
Arguably, as enshrined in the UNFCCC, the concept of common
concern entitles, even requires, all states to cooperate under the

5
Barcelona Traction, Light and Power Company, Limited (Belgium v. Spain), ICJ
Reports 1970, 3, para. 33.
6
J. Brunnée, Common Areas, Common Heritage, and Common Concern, in:
D. Bodansky/J. Brunnée/E. Hey (eds.), Oxford Handbook of International
Environmental Law, 550 (2007).
7
See also P. Birnie/A. Boyle/C. Redgwell, International Law and the Environment,
at 130 (3rd ed. 2009).
8
Rio Declaration on Environment and Development, 14 June 1992, 31 ILM 876
(1992).
9
 Brunnée (note 6), at 565.
724 jutta brunnée

auspices of the treaty to avert dangerous climate change. If we were to

assume that common concerns do give rise to erga omnes obligations,
then the identification of global climate change in the UNFCCC could
also have two types of consequences under general international law.
First, the failure by major emitters to curb greenhouse gas emissions
might give all states standing to hold them to account, even in the
absence of specific harm to them. Second, the UNFCCC might have
converted what would otherwise be an (emerging) obligation erga
omnes into an obligation erga omnes partes.
The ICJ has not pronounced itself on whether erga omnes obliga-
tions give all states standing to pursue a claim.10 Given the absence
of clear state practice,11 the International Law Commission (ILC) took
a cautious approach in its Articles on State Responsibility.12 It endorsed
the idea of collective interest standing but limited attendant remedies
and countermeasures. According to the Draft Articles, any state may
invoke the responsibility of another for breaches of obligations owed
to the international community. In turn, obligations owed erga omnes
partes allow all parties to a treaty to demand compliance with its terms.
However, unless a state is “specially affected” by the violation, it may
seek only the cessation of the violation but may not claim reparation
except in the interest of those injured (Article 48).13 A distinction
between “specially affected” states and all other beneficiaries of erga
omnes obligations also runs through the Draft Articles’ approach
to countermeasures. Specially affected states may take countermeas-
ures and suspend the performance of obligations owed to the responsi-
ble state (Article 49). In other words, specially affected states may
resort to what would otherwise be violations of international law
in order to induce the responsible state to comply with its obligations.
All other states may only take “lawful measures” against the violat
ing state, leaving open the precise scope of permissible responses
(Article 54).

10
 In the Barcelona Traction case (see supra note 5), para. 91, the ICJ required a
concrete treaty mechanism to provide standing.
11
See M. Ragazzi, The Concept of International Obligations Erga Omnes, at 212–
214 (1997). But see also C. J. Tams, Enforcing Obligations Erga Omnes in International
Law, at 196–197 (2005).
12
Draft Articles on Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts, in:
Report of the International Law Commission on the Work of Its Fifty-third Session,
UN GAOR 56th. Sess., Supp. 10, UN Doc. A/56/10 (2001), at 43.
13
States that are “specially affected” may seek both cessation of the violation and
reparation of the injury. See id., Arts. 42, 30, 31.
 the global climate regime: wither common concern? 725

At least in principle, general international law, then, appears to pro-

vide states with certain “self-help” options in relation to climate change.
Yet, it is unlikely that self-help can play a significant role in addressing
non-compliance with climate commitments. First, several of the legal
parameters for self-help are problematic in the climate context. Even
assuming that the concept of common concern requires all states to
participate in global climate protection, and leaving aside the above-
mentioned causation issues, the absence of state practice means that
states’ ability to take counter-measures against violations of erga omnes
obligations remains uncertain.14 Second, self-help measures tend to be
reactive and confrontational in nature. While unilateral measures may
help induce international cooperation,15 effective climate policy
requires longer-term coordination of mitigation measures and capacity
building. Finally, in the context of collective problems, self-help risks
being perceived as illegitimate. For example, although the American
efforts to protect dolphins and sea turtles through import restrictions
were arguably intended to protect global commons,16 they incurred
charges of trade protectionism. Indeed, in the Shrimp-Turtle case, the
WTO Appellate Body stressed that measures to address international
environmental problems were more appropriately agreed multilater-
ally than imposed unilaterally.17
Recourse to international courts or tribunals might address the
legitimacy concerns raised by self-help measures. However, in the
context of global issues, their potential contribution is constrained by
some of the same factors highlighted above. For example, even if a

14
See generally J. Brunnée, International Legal Accountability through the Lens of
the Law of State Responsibility, 36 Netherlands Yearbook of International Law 21
(2005).
15
For example, the Canadian enforcement measures against the Spanish fishing
vessel Estai in 1995 helped prompt the negotiation of further Northwest Atlantic
Fisheries Organization (NAFO) standards and new enforcement powers under the UN
Straddling Stocks Agreement. See G. Vigneron, Compliance and International
Environmental Agreements: A Case Study of the 1995 United Nations Straddling Fish
Stocks Agreement, 10 Georgetown International Environmental Law Review 581, at
585–588 (1998).
16
See R. W. Parker, The Use and Abuse of Trade Leverage to Protect the Global
Commons: What We Can Learn from the Tuna-Dolphin Conflict, 12 Georgetown
International Environmental Law Review 1 (1999); L. Guruswamy, The Annihilation
of Sea Turtles: World Trade Organization Intransigence and U.S. Equivocation, 30
Environmental Law Reports 10261, at 10262–10266 (2000).
17
See United States–Import Prohibition of Certain Shrimp and Shrimp Products,
Report of the Appellate Body (1998), reprinted in 38 ILM 121 (1999) (paras. 166–171
of the decision).
726 jutta brunnée

small island nation suffered concrete damage from climate change, it

would have to overcome the hurdles posed by causation requirements
and due diligence standards.18 A state looking to mount an actio popu-
laris to protect the global climate would face even greater challenges, in
part because there is no precedent for this type of action. Even
assuming that the parties concerned could agree to submit the dispute
to the ICJ or to another forum for binding settlement, it is not clear that
the award would result in meaningful remedies, let alone contribute
to building the complex regime that is required to address climate
change.
These considerations help explain the emergence of multilateral
environmental agreements (MEAs). Arguably, the very purpose of the
UNFCCC is to facilitate collective responses to the common concern
of climate change, to establish mechanisms for standard setting, and to
promote compliance in the common interest, in a context where states
may well be both perpetrators and victims.

C. The UNFCCC and Kyoto Protocol: Common but

Differentiated Responsibilities to Address Climate Change

The UNFCCC was adopted in 1992, and supplemented by the Kyoto

Protocol in 1997.19 The Kyoto Protocol imposes emission reduction
commitments only on some of the major emitters, and only for the
period from 2008 to 2012. Negotiations for a more comprehensive set
of mid- and long-term commitments were meant to lead to an agree-
ment by the end of 2009. But the Copenhagen meetings of the parties
to the convention and protocol could not resolve the remaining differ-
ences. They produced only a short instrument, the Copenhagen
Accord, which was negotiated by a small group of parties and then
merely taken note of by the parties to the climate convention.20 The
Cancun Agreements took up the main elements of the Copenhagen

18
See BBC World News, Tiny Pacific Nation takes on Australia, 4 March 2002,
available at http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/asia-pacific/1854118.stm.
19
Kyoto Protocol to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate
Change, 11 December 1997, 37 ILM 22 (1998).
20
See Conference of the Parties to the United Nations Framework Convention on
Climate Change, Fifteenth Sess., Draft Decision -/CP.15, Proposal by the President,
Copenhagen Accord, UN Doc. FCCC/CP/2009/L.7 (2009), available at http://unfccc
.int/resource/docs/2009/cop15/eng/l07.pdf.
 the global climate regime: wither common concern? 727

Accord and appear to be paving the way for an integration of these ele-
ments into the climate regime.21
Building on the acknowledgement that global climate change is a
common concern of humankind, the UNFCCC stipulates that states
should protect the climate system “on the basis of equity and in accord-
ance with their common but differentiated responsibilities”.22 Indeed, it
can be argued that the concept of common but differentiated responsi-
bilities (CBDR) is the other side of the common concern coin.23 That is,
while all states have a responsibility to cooperate to address climate
change, the specific responsibilities of individual states will differ
depending on capacity and contributions to the problem. In the cli-
mate regime, the CBDR principle is the place holder for the difficult
burden sharing issues that must be resolved before emission reductions
can be agreed.
Broad agreement on the notion of common responsibility would
seem to account for the fact that, notwithstanding the complex policy
challenges posed by global climate change, the UNFCCC is a truly uni-
versal agreement, now boasting 194 parties.24 The climate regime builds
on the framework-protocol model that has become prevalent in inter-
national environmental law and which is specifically designed to pro-
mote long-term interaction among treaty parties.25 Hence, the
convention does not impose ambitious substantive commitments on
parties. Rather, it stipulates principles and objectives to guide global

21
The so-called Cancun Agreements consist of decisions taken under the auspices
of the UNFCCC and the Kyoto Protocol, respectively. See Decision 1/CP.16, ‘The
Cancun Agreements: Outcome of the work of the Ad Hoc Working Group on long-
term Cooperative Action under the Convention,’ in Report of the Conference of the
Parties on its sixteenth session, held in Cancun from 29 November to 10 December
2010, Addendum, Part Two: Action taken by the Conference of the Parties at its six-
teenth session, FCCC/CP/2010/7/Add.1 (15 March 2011); Decision 1/CMP.6, ‘The
Cancun Agreements: Outcome of the work of the Ad Hoc Working Group on Further
Commitments for Annex I Parties under the Kyoto Protocol at its fifteenth session,’ in
Report of the Conference of the Parties serving as the meeting of the Parties to the
Kyoto Protocol on its sixth session, held in Cancun from 29 November to 10 December
2010, Addendum, Part Two: Action taken by the Conference of the Parties serving as
the meeting of the Parties to the Kyoto Protocol at its sixth session FCCC/KP/
CMP/2010/12/Add.1 (15 March 2011).
22
UNFCCC (see supra note 1), Article 3 (1).
23
 Birnie/Boyle/Redgwell (note 7), at 132–136.
24
UNFCCC, Status of Ratifications, available at http://unfccc.int/essential_back-
ground/convention/status_of_ratification/items/2631.php.
25
See D. Bodansky/J. Brunnée/E. Hey, International Environmental Law: Mapping
the Field, in: Bodansky/Brunnée/Hey (note 6), 1, at 21–23.
728 jutta brunnée

climate policy, facilitates gathering and exchange of scientific informa-

tion, and establishes institutions and processes for further treaty devel-
opment. In other words, the climate regime follows an important trend
in the development of MEAs, which is that they not only frame a com-
mon concern but institutionalize a collective approach to addressing it.
The UNFCCC draws upon various scientific or technical expert
forums. For example, the convention established a permanent
Subsidiary Body for Scientific and Technological Advice.26 The climate
regime also draws upon the expertise of the Intergovernmental Panel
on Climate Change, which operates under the auspices of the World
Meteorological Organization and the United Nations Environment
Programme. These expert forums play important roles in building con-
sensus around the nature of collective concerns, the collective action
that is required to address them, and the refinement or adjustment of
regulatory strategies.
As in other MEAs, the legal development of the climate regime is in
the hands of a plenary body, the Conference of the Parties (COP).
Much like an international organization, the COP and its subsidiary
bodies hold regular meetings and enable continuing dialogue among
the parties.27 These treaty bodies have established themselves as central
venues for international lawmaking activities around collective con-
cerns like climate change. This trend has been of particular importance
in the common concern context because it significantly enhances the
potential for legitimate outcomes. A common concern treaty like the
UNFCCC enshrines the background assumption that lawmaking is a
collective enterprise. It also settles the terms of lawmaking such that,
while states’ sovereignty is respected through consent requirements,
lawmaking processes are structured so as to maximize opportunities
for collective action. Thus, the arguably most important feature of
treaty-based lawmaking is the range of strategies that have emerged to
strike a balance between the constraints of the consent requirement
and the need for timely collective action.28 To be sure, much regime
development still occurs through ordinary consent-based methods.
Thus, when an agreement is amended, or when an additional treaty,

26
UNFCCC (see supra note 1), Article 9.
27
See R. Churchill/G. Ulfstein, Autonomous Institutional Arrangements in
Multilateral Environmental Agreements: A Little-Noticed Phenomenon in Interna-
tional Law, 94 American Journal of International Law 623 (2000).
28
See J. Brunnée, COPing with Consent: Lawmaking under Multilateral
Environmental Agreements, 15 Leiden Journal of International Law 1 (2002).
 the global climate regime: wither common concern? 729

such as a protocol, is adopted, individual states must consent to these

instruments to incur legal obligations. But the “edges of consent” have
softened considerably.29 An ever-growing stock of regulatory detail is
adopted through decisions of plenary bodies, without subsequent for-
mal consent by individual states. As is amply illustrated in decision-
making under the UNFCCC, the resulting standards will not be legally
binding, although they may well contain mandatory language. For
example, significant parts of the Kyoto Protocol’s regulatory regime
were adopted through simple decisions of the parties, rather than
enshrined in the treaty or adopted through formal amendment.30
Another noteworthy feature of treaty-based lawmaking processes is
that they provide a setting in which non-state actors, such as interna-
tional organizations, NGOs, or business entities can be directly
engaged. In the climate change regime, non-state actors have observer
status at COP meetings, distribute information or policy papers, meet
with or even belong to official delegations, or report on negotiations. In
a formal sense, lawmaking remains entirely in the hands of states. But
non-state actors have opportunities to provide input, which is another
important factor in enhancing the legitimacy of lawmaking around
common concerns.31
Turning to the Kyoto Protocol, it builds on the principles and basic
commitments of the convention and, in keeping with the framework-
protocol approach, introduces concrete substantive commitments into
the climate regime. It too is nearly universal, although its 192 parties do
not include the United States.32 In keeping with the convention’s CBDR
principle, the protocol imposes binding emission reduction commit-
ments on developed and transition countries, listed in an Annex I to
the UNFCCC, but not on developing countries. It requires Annex I
parties to achieve, during a 2008–2012 commitment period, specified
reductions in comparison to their 1990 emission levels. To give all par-
ties greater flexibility in meeting their commitments, the Kyoto
Protocol established trading mechanisms through which they (or legal

29
Simma (note 4), at 325.
30
See discussion in Brunnée (note 28). But see also Churchill/Ulfstein (note 27)
(arguing that some decisions, notably the decision that fleshed out the emissions trad-
ing regime, produced binding rules).
31
See J. Brunnée/S. J. Toope, Legitimacy and Legality in International Law: An
Interactional Account, at 142–143 (2010).
32
See UNFCCC, Status of Ratification of the Kyoto Protocol, available at http://
unfccc.int/kyoto_protocol/background/status_of_ratification/items/2613.php.
730 jutta brunnée

entities under their jurisdictions) can exchange emission rights or

emission reduction credits.33
The parties also adopted “procedures and mechanisms to determine
and to address cases of non-compliance”.34 The regime’s Compliance
Committee has a “facilitative branch” and an “enforcement branch”.35
The facilitative branch is mandated to promote compliance with proto-
col commitments through advice and assistance. The task of the
enforcement branch, in turn, is to resolve all questions relating to
Annex I parties’ compliance with their emission reduction commit-
ments, the attendant inventory and reporting commitments, and the
eligibility requirements for the Kyoto mechanisms.36 The enforcement
branch determines whether a party is in compliance with its commit-
ments and applies “consequences” in the event of non-compliance.37
Depending on the underlying commitment, these consequences range
from the preparation of a compliance action plan, to the suspension of
the party from participation in the Kyoto mechanisms, to the deduc-
tion of excess emissions from the party’s assigned amount for the next
commitment period.38
The Kyoto Protocol’s elaborate compliance mechanism extends
another important trend in international environmental law. We saw
earlier that the law of state responsibility has significant drawbacks in
the context of common concerns, notwithstanding the ILC’s efforts to
clarify the secondary rules pertaining to norms that have effect erga
omnes or erga omnes partes. Even leaving aside the difficulties
highlighted in the previous section, it is arguable that states’ primary
interest in the context of common concerns is not to hold individual
states responsible for violations of international law, but to ensure the
greatest possible degree of compliance by the widest possible range of
parties. The result has been the emergence of procedures that assess

33
See Kyoto Protocol (supra note 19), Arts. 6, 12 and 17.
34
See id., Article 18. And see Decision 27/CMP.1 (Procedures and mechanisms
relating to compliance under the Kyoto Protocol), in: Report of the Conference of the
Parties serving as the meeting of the Parties to the Kyoto Protocol on its first session,
held at Montreal from 28 November to 10 December 2005, Addendum, Part Two:
Action taken by the Conference of the Parties serving as the meeting of the Parties to
the Kyoto Protocol at its first session, UN Doc. FCCC/KP/CMP/2005/8/Add.3 (2006),
at 93.
35
 Id., II (2).
36
 Id., V (4).
37
 Id., I, V (6) and XV.
38
 Id., XV.
 the global climate regime: wither common concern? 731

parties’ compliance with their treaty commitments and provide for a

range of measures to facilitate or compel compliance.
Cooperative facilitation of compliance has been the primary
objective of the majority of existing compliance procedures. This prag-
matic approach recognizes the fact that, under most MEAs, the non-
complying parties are most likely to be states with genuine capacity
limitations.39 By contrast, in the case of the Kyoto Protocol, at this time
only developed countries and transition countries have emission
reduction commitments. Therefore, capacity-building and financial
assistance are less likely to be appropriate in promoting compliance.
Moreover, the Kyoto Protocol’s unique features, notably its emissions
trading mechanisms, necessitate a tougher approach to compliance.
Hence, the Kyoto Protocol’s compliance procedure explicitly declare its
goals to be to “facilitate, promote and enforce compliance”,40 and estab-
lish the aforementioned enforcement branch of the compliance body.
In sum, until recently, the global climate regime has followed, and
indeed extended, the trends in treaty-making around common con-
cerns. The UNFCCC and its Kyoto Protocol reflect the heretofore
shared understanding of states that common concerns are best
addressed through collective, if differentiated, standard-setting and
centralized compliance control.

D. The Copenhagen Accord: From Differentiation to

Decentralization?

Negotiations for a more comprehensive and long-term set of post-2012

commitments have been underway for some time. The United States
and some other industrialized states have been insisting that major
developing economies with large greenhouse gas emissions, notably
China and India, also take on international emissions commitments
and subject their performance to monitoring, review and verification
(MRV). The push for inclusion of developing countries in a compre-
hensive commitment regime, however, has run up against their

39
See J. Brunnée, Enforcement Mechanisms in International Law and International
Environmental Law, in: U. Beyerlin/P.-T. Stoll/R. Wolfrum (eds.), Ensuring Compliance
with Multilateral Environmental Agreements, A Dialogue between Practitioners and
Academia, 1, at 18 (2006).
40
See Procedures and mechanisms relating to compliance under the Kyoto Protocol
(supra note 34), I.
732 jutta brunnée

demands for global equity. The major developing countries have long
resisted emission reductions and binding commitments on the grounds
of the principle of common but differentiated responsibilities.41
The 2009 Copenhagen Accord encapsulates a tentative compromise
among major emitters. The accord’s perhaps most significant feature is
that it contemplates common but differentiated commitments by all
major emitters: “quantified economy-wide emissions targets for 2020”
by Annex I parties and “mitigation actions” by non-Annex I parties.42
The former are to be “measured, reported and verified in accordance
with […] guidelines” adopted by the parties to the UNFCCC.43 The lat-
ter are to be reported through national communications under the
convention and, if supported through international financing, will be
“subject to international measurement, reporting and verification”, also
in accordance with guidelines adopted by the COP.44 The accord also
commits industrialized countries to providing “new and additional
resources […] approaching USD 30 billion for the period 2010–2012
[… and to mobilizing] USD 100 billion dollars a year by 2020 to address
the needs of developing countries”.45
However, in a significant break from the practice under MEAs to
date, the Copenhagen Accord does not enshrine legal commitments by
parties. States merely register emissions pledges in an appendix to the
accord.46 Like the accord itself, the individual pledges are not binding
under international law. Indeed, states commit to taking a wide variety
of measures in accordance with their respective national laws. Similarly,
as described in the accord, compliance review will no longer be a col-
lective process under the auspices of the UN regime. Instead, it will
consist in national oversight, albeit guided by international standards
and, in the case of internationally financed developing country action,
be internationally reported and verified.
Given the acrimony that surrounded the negotiation and adoption
of the Copenhagen Accord, it is uncertain whether and when it will be
transformed into a formal legal instrument under the auspices of the

41
See J. Werksman/K. Herbertson, The Aftermath of Copenhagen: Does
International Law have a Role to Play in a Global Response to Climate Change?, 25
Maryland Journal of International Law 109 (2010).
42
Copenhagen Accord (see supra note 20), paras. 4–5.
43
 Id., para. 4.
44
 Id., para. 5.
45
 Id., para. 8.
46
 Id., para. 4.
 the global climate regime: wither common concern? 733

convention. Indeed, the results of the Copenhagen meetings may well

prompt significant shifts in the evolution, legal nature and role of the
UN climate regime.47 The trend suggested by the Copenhagen Accord
points away from the “top down” or centralized approach to standard
setting and compliance control. The Copenhagen Accord reflects a
much more decentralized “bottom up” vision for the global climate
regime.
Indeed, so far the UN regime has been unable to deliver the urgently
needed climate action by major emitters. The regime’s consensus prac-
tice has been identified by many observers as particularly problem-
atic,48 prompting some parties to search for other forums and groupings
in which to more effectively pursue global climate policy.49 The
Copenhagen Accord could be seen as a half-way house between a pure
“coalition of the willing” and UN-based cooperation. The accord itself
bypassed the sluggish negotiation, drafting and ratification processes
in the climate regime, as well as the blockages in its decision-making.
But it also aspired to be anchored in the treaty-regime. After all, the
original plan of the drafters had been for the accord to be adopted by a
decision of the treaty plenary.50 Furthermore, the accord leaves the
development and adoption of some of its central aspects, including the
MRV guidelines, to the UNFCCC COP.51 Given this dependence of the
accord on the UNFCCC decision-making process, the moment of
truth will soon come in the climate regime. A number of scenarios are
conceivable as the parties continue their work towards post-2012
commitments.
One possibility is that the Copenhagen Accord is but an interim step
towards a comprehensive post-2012 commitment regime, that is a
regime that commits both industrialized and major developing coun-
tries to emissions requirements and international compliance monitor-
ing. In this scenario, the Kyoto Protocol might be replaced by a more
comprehensive regime, or might be complemented by one or more
additional protocols. The nature of compliance monitoring would

47
See Werksman/Herbertson (note 41).
48
See e.g. D. Bodansky, The Illegitimacy of “Legitimacy”, Opinio Juris (2009), avail-
able at http://opiniojuris.org/2009/12/17/the-illegitimacy-of-%e2%80%9clegitimacy.
49
 Examples include the Asia-Pacific Partnership on Clean Development and
Climate and the Major Economies Forum. See Brunnée/Toope (note 31), at 145.
50
 L. Rajamani, The Making and Unmaking of the Copenhagen Accord, 59
International and Comparative Law Quarterly 824, at 828 (2010).
51
Copenhagen Accord (see supra note 20), para. 5.
734 jutta brunnée

depend on the commitments in question, and on the parties who

undertake commitments. For example, it is conceivable that a Kyoto
style compliance regime would continue to be in place for some parties
and help back-stop continued Kyoto-style emissions trading mecha-
nisms. At least initially, developing countries could be subject primar-
ily to the facilitative branch of the existing compliance regime.
Alternatively, at least for an interim period, a more decentralized MRV
regime, such as the one outlined in the Copenhagen Accord, could be
employed. Whether other industrialized countries will continue to
accept Kyoto style commitments and international compliance assess-
ment without US participation is unclear, of course. These considera-
tions lead back to the compromise that was found in the Copenhagen
Accord.
It is also conceivable that the Accord will eventually be legitimized
through a COP decision and further developed through the required
additional decisions. In this second scenario, which has become con-
siderably more likely with the adoption of the Cancun Agreements,52
the regulatory and compliance strategies in the UN regime would
undergo fundamental shifts. While parties’ endeavours would
continue to be guided by the objectives and principles of the conven-
tion, their commitments would not be binding treaty obligations but
would rest on political commitments to implement national law and
policy. Except for the verification of internationally funded actions
by developing countries, much of the monitoring and all legal
enforcement measures would also be devolved to the national level.
This model would side-step some of the political and legal blockages
that have vexed the climate regime. But it would also invert the usual
approach of international law, whereby international commitments
are made and domestic law furnishes no justification for non-compli-
ance. Aside from the adoption of guidelines for national measures, the
role of the international regime would revert to what MEAs provided
before the advent of compliance procedures: information sharing.
The main enforcement tools available to the climate regime, aside
from ensuring comparability and credibility of national MRV meas-
ures, would be transparency and attendant peer pressure. However,
the parameters for assessment of parties’ performance would be sig-
nificantly different, not only because of the loss of an independ­­
ent international body to assess performance, but also because

52
Cancun Agreements (see supra note 21).
 the global climate regime: wither common concern? 735

parties’ pledges are based on national rather than collectively set

standards.
In the third scenario, the UN climate regime is side-lined and even-
tually withers away. Emitters coordinate actions amongst themselves,
pursuant to an instrument like the Copenhagen Accord or an even
more informal device, like the Major Economies Forum sponsored by
the Obama Administration.53 To be sure, it is important to bring
together the states that account for the vast majority of global carbon
emissions. As the deal-making at Copenhagen illustrated, negotiations
among fewer key actors can lead to results more easily than the UN
process. But this does not necessarily mean that those results are supe-
rior. Most importantly, agreements among “coalitions of the willing”,
especially in the context of climate change, suffer at least prima facie
from a legitimacy deficit. As suggested in the preceding sections, since
climate change is a common concern, all states, whether contributors
to or victims of climate change, are required as well as entitled to par-
ticipate in a solution.
This point is also important in the compliance context. As illustrated
earlier in this essay, general international law is ill equipped to ensure
that states cooperate to address common concerns. Given the experi-
ence with the UN regime, it nonetheless may be tempting to suggest
that climate action is more effectively promoted by unilateral meas-
ures, notably trade measures. In fact, the question whether trade meas-
ures by individual countries to promote climate protection would be
legal under international trade law has moved to the top of the interna-
tional agenda.54 But an equally important consideration, also raised
earlier in this essay, is whether such unilateral measures would be
deemed legitimate. In many respects, the imposition of trade measures
by individual countries would take the international system back to
one of self-help, with all of the aforementioned problems. It stands to
reason that legitimate compliance control is tied to legitimate standard
setting. Hence, when individual states, or self-selected groups of states,
set standards for climate action, their enforcement through trade-
measures is more likely to be seen as motivated by protectionism than
by the common concern for the global climate.

53
See e.g. MEF, Declaration of the Leaders–The Major Economies Forum on Energy
and Climate, 9 July 2009, available at www.whitehouse.gov/the_press_office/
Declaration-of-the-Leaders-the-Major-Economies-Forum-on-Energy-and-Climate.
54
For an overview, see G. C. Hufbauer/S. Charnovitz/J. Kim, Global Warming and
the World Trading System (2009).
736 jutta brunnée

E. Conclusion

The UNFCCC and its Kyoto Protocol reflect an understanding that had
come to be firmly established in international environmental law: com-
mon concerns are best addressed through international institutions
that involve all states in standard-setting and compliance control. The
climate regime also reflects a recognition that centralization and dif-
ferentiation must go hand in hand. Perhaps because of the inevitable
tension between these two impulses, the common concern and CBDR
principles have played a paradoxical role in the evolution of the climate
regime. Deep disagreements over the appropriate burden-sharing
principle are at the root of the difficulties parties have encountered in
negotiating a comprehensive post-2012 commitment regime. At the
same time, it stands to reason that the broad agreement on the com-
mon responsibility of states for climate action as well as on the basic
idea that individual states’ responsibilities will differ accounts for the
climate regime’s remarkable resilience.55 The UN climate regime
is likely to endure. But it remains to be seen whether it will continue to
be the hub of a highly institutionalized approach, or will anchor a more
decentralized system with elements of self-help. Hence, the future
development of the regime should be of interest not only to all those
concerned about climate change. It should also be closely followed by
international lawyers looking to trace the evolution and legal implica-
tions of the concept of common concern of humankind.

55
For a detailed discussion, see Brunnée/Toope (note 31), Chapter 4.
 Enforcement Jurisdiction under the United
Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea.
An overview

Hugo Caminos

A. Introduction

The United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (herein after
“The Convention”), establishes a comprehensive reformation of the
public international law of the sea. It represents a compromise among
different competing interests as regards the uses of the sea, both within
and between States. This consists in establishing an equitable interna-
tional regime for the area and resources of the seabed and ocean floor
beyond national jurisdiction, which was the subject of an Agreement
in 1994 that prompted most industrialized countries to join the
Convention, and in resolving a broad range of related issues, including
the breadth of the territorial sea, passage through international straits
and prevention of marine pollution, among others.1
The Convention regulates the rights, obligations and responsibili-
ties of States. Although most of its norms are addressed to coastal
States, non-coastal States are also subject to these rights, obligations
and responsibilities, particularly to those relating to the uses of the
seas.
What happens when a State does not comply with the obligations
stipulated in the Convention? What is the meaning of enforcement? In
Rüdiger Wolfrum’s lectures at The Hague Academy on “Means of
ensuring compliance with and enforcement of international environ-
mental law”, paraphrasing him in his definition of the concept of
enforcement in terms applicable to the Convention in general, would
read as follows:
Enforcement is all the actions taken by States or other entities
to induce or compel States to comply with their rules and regula­
tions adopted in conformity with the Convention and international

 H. Caminos (ed.), The Law of the Sea (2001).

1
738 hugo caminos

obligations in force. “Enforcement is the reaction to an identified

non-compliance.”2
For example, which would be the actions that, under international
law, a coastal State could take against a foreign merchant ship on the
high seas? An author, in considering the measures which, by virtue of
the police power of the captains of French government ships, can be
taken, mentions the right of approach and the right of visit. The right of
approach consists in checking the identity and nationality of a ship by
way of its exterior signs. The right of visit serves to verify the identity
and nationality of the ship and the nature and destination of the cargo,
the identification of the crew and the use made of its radio-communi-
cations equipment. The right of visit comprises two operations: the
visit and the search. It consists in examining the papers on board the
ship, either aboard the ship or aboard the controlling vessel.3
“Compliance should be distinguished from the processes of implementa-
tion and enforcement, two steps that are designed to secure compliance.
Implementation refers to a State’s national means of effecting compliance
under its own laws, i.e., the process wherein a government enacts
national legislation aimed at integrating agreed-upon international
agreements law into its municipal law. […] Enforcement, on the other
hand, refers to the process of compelling compliance with rules set out
in an international agreement. Enforcement involves the application of
constraining force upon a state’s behavior in order to persuade that
state to conform with (i.e., comply with) the conduct proscribed in an
agreement.”4
A State may have jurisdiction to implement the norms of the Conven­
tion through its laws and regulations adopted in conformity with the
Convention. Still, it may not have jurisdiction to enforce these laws
and regulations. Only the latter, the jurisdiction to enforce, allows the
State to take measures to compel a State to observe such laws and
regulations.
For example, Article 21 of the Convention, which enumerates the
matters in respect of which the coastal State may adopt laws and regu-
lations in conformity with the Convention and other rules of interna-
tional law relating to innocent passage through the territorial sea,

2
 R. Wolfrum, Means of ensuring compliance with and enforcement of international
environmental law, 272 Recueil des Cours 9, at 30 (1998).
3
G. Le Borgne, La police en mer en deçà des 200 milles, at 67 (1986).
4
 C. C. Joyner, Compliance and enforcement in new international fisheries law, 12
Temple International and Comparative Law Journal 271, at 275 (1998).
 enforcement jurisdiction on the law of the sea739

confers on the coastal State only legislative jurisdiction, not enforce-

ment jurisdiction, on such matters.
On the other hand, Article 220 (6), entitled “Enforcement by coastal
States”, in Part XII of the Convention, Protection and Preservation of
the Marine Environment, indicates the measures a coastal State may
take when a ship navigating in its territorial sea or exclusive economic
zone has committed a violation of applicable international rules and
standards for the prevention, reduction and control of pollution from
vessels or of its laws and regulations conforming and giving effect to
such rules and standards “resulting in a discharge causing major dam-
age or threat of major damage to the coastline or related interests of the
coastal State, or to any resources of its territorial sea or exclusive eco-
nomic zone […]”. In this case, the coastal State, “provided that the evi-
dence so warrants”, may institute proceedings, including detention of
the vessel, i.e., it has enforcement jurisdiction.

B. Enforcement in Maritime Zones under National

Sovereignty or Jurisdiction

I. Internal Waters and Ports

Article 8 (1) of the Convention declares that except as provided in Part
IV relating to archipelagic waters, “waters on the landward side of the
baseline of the territorial sea form part of the internal waters of the
State”. Article 2 (1) reaffirms the legal nature of these waters. It reads as
follows: “The sovereignty of a coastal State extends, beyond its land ter-
ritory and internal waters and, in the case of an archipelagic State, its
archipelagic waters, to an adjacent belt of sea, described as the territo-
rial sea.”
The coastal State exercises its full sovereignty in its internal waters,
i.e., it has the legislative, administrative, judicial and enforcement
jurisdiction of its laws and regulations over foreign ships and people
on board entering its internal waters and ports. Warships and
other government ships operated for non-commercial purposes are
exempted from this rule by reason of their immunity (Article 32 of the
Convention).5

5
 Article 32 provides that “With such exceptions as are contained in subsection A
and in articles 30 and 31, nothing in this Convention affects the immunities of war-
ships and other government ships operated for non-commercial purposes”.
740 hugo caminos

The Convention does not contain specific norms on the jurisdiction

of the coastal State in its internal waters and ports. However, besides
the reference in Article 2 to the sovereignty of the coastal State in these
waters, Article 25 (1), after stating the right of the coastal State “to take
the necessary steps in its territorial sea to prevent passage which is not
innocent”, provides in para. 2 “[i]n the case of ships proceeding to
internal waters or a call at a port facility outside internal waters, the
coastal State also has the right to take the necessary steps to prevent any
breach of the conditions to which admission of those ships to internal
waters or such a call is subject”. This provision implicitly recognizes
that, on the basis of the sovereignty of the coastal State over its internal
waters and ports, it has the right to enforce its norms regulating the
access of foreign ships to these waters and port facilities.
In practice, the application of the above norms to foreign merchant
ships is not absolute. Thus, in relation to civil jurisdiction, matters
relating to the “internal economy” of the ship are within the compe-
tence of the authorities of the flag State. For example, disputes of a pri-
vate nature with crew members are settled in accordance with the rules
provided for by the flag State, generally through the disciplinary pow-
ers of the captain and the local consul. Local jurisdiction will be claimed
in these cases only when the interests of the coastal State are involved
or at the request of the captain of the ship or the consul of the flag State.
With respect to criminal jurisdiction, “in principle, the port State
takes no interest in suppressing offences committed on board a foreign
vessel calling at a port. However, the port authorities may intervene in
any one of three situations: (1) if the offence was committed by a per-
son not belonging to the crew; (2) if the master requests the local
authority to intervene; (3) if the tranquility of the port has been
compromised.”6
Apart from in these cases, the coastal State will apply its laws and
regulations in matters “which do not concern solely to the ‘internal
economy’ of foreign ships. Pollution, pilotage, and […] navigation laws
are routinely enforced against such vessels and […] ships may be
arrested in the course of civil proceedings in the coastal State.”7
The situation of foreign ships entering internal waters of or calling at
a port of a State under force majeure or distress is regarded as a special

6
 R. J. Dupuy/D. Vignes (eds.), A Handbook on the New Law of the Sea, Vol. 1, at
251 (1991).
7
 R. R. Churchill/A. V. Lowe, The Law of the Sea, at 67 (3rd ed. 1999).
 enforcement jurisdiction on the law of the sea741

one. Brown mentions the Rebecca case where the “classical formula-
tion of this enlightened principle of comity which exempts a merchant
vessel, at least to a certain extent, from the operation of local laws is to
be found.”8
The Rebecca arbitral award states that “while recognizing the gen-
eral principle of immunity of vessels in distress, domestic courts
and international courts have frequently given consideration to
the question as to the degree of necessity prompting vessels to seek
refuge”. As it has been said that the necessity must be urgent, the award
formulates some reasonable criteria applicable to the Rebecca. For
example, it affirms that a ship floundering in distress as a result of the
weather or of other causes affecting the management of the vessel “need
not be in such a condition that it is dashed helplessly on the shore or
against rocks before a claim of distress can properly be invoked in its
behalf. […] If a captain delayed seeking refuge until his ship was
wrecked, obviously he would not be using his best judgment with a
view to the preservation of the ship, the cargo and the lives of people
on board.”9

II. Territorial Sea. Innocent Passage

As stated above, Article 2 (1) of the Convention extends the sovereignty
of the coastal State beyond its land territory and internal waters to an
adjacent belt of sea described as the territorial sea. Sovereignty over the
territorial sea extends to the air space as well as to its bed and subsoil,
and it is exercised subject to the Convention and other rules of interna-
tional law (Article 2 (2) and (3)). Article 3 confers on every State the
right to establish the breadth of its territorial sea up to a limit not
exceeding 12 nautical miles measured from baselines determined in
accordance with the Convention.
The exercise of the sovereignty of the coastal State over the territorial
sea is subject to the right of innocent passage of ships of all States
through it (Article 17). In other words, the sovereignty of the coastal
State over its territorial sea is not as complete as its sovereignty over its
territory and internal waters. However, there is an exception to this
rule: under Article 8 (2), where the establishment of a straight baseline

8
E. D. Brown, The International Law of the Sea, Vol. I, at 39 (1994).
9
K. A. Hoff, The Rebecca Case, 4 Reports of International Arbitral Awards 444, at
447 (1929).
742 hugo caminos

in accordance with Article 7 of the Convention has the effect of

enclosing as internal waters areas which had not previously been
considered as such, a right of innocent passage shall exist in those
waters.
The norms of the Convention relating to innocent passage are set out
in three subsections. Subsection A deals with rules applicable to all
ships (Arts. 17 to 26); Subsection B contains the rules applicable to
merchant ships and government ships operated for commercial pur-
poses (Arts. 27 and 28); Subsection C relates to the rules applicable to
warships and other government ships operated for non-commercial
purposes (Arts. 29 to 32).
What is the principal duty of the coastal State as regards the right of
innocent passage of foreign ships through its territorial sea? The answer
to this question is contained in Article 24 (1): the coastal State shall not
hamper the innocent passage of such ships. This provision limits the
jurisdiction of the coastal State to apply the norms of the Convention
or of its laws and regulations adopted in conformity with it in its terri-
torial sea by stating that the coastal State “shall not […] impose require-
ments on foreign ships which have the practical effect of denying or
impairing the right of innocent passage; or discriminate in form or in
fact against the ships of any State or against ships carrying cargoes to,
from or on behalf of any State”.
What is the meaning of passage and when is passage innocent? The
answer is found in Arts. 18 and 19, respectively, which reply to these
two questions.
Article 18, entitled “Meaning of passage”, declares:
“1. Passage means navigation through the territorial sea for the purpose
of:
    a) traversing that sea without entering internal waters or calling at a
roadstead or port facility outside internal waters; or
    b) proceeding to or from internal waters or a call at such roadstead
or port facility.
   2. 
Passage shall be continuous and expeditious. However, passage
includes stopping and anchoring, but only in so far as the same
are incidental to ordinary navigation or are rendered necessary by
force majeure or distress or for the purpose of rendering assistance
to persons, ships or aircraft in danger or distress.”
Article 18 (1) (a) defines what has been called lateral passage, while para.
(1) (b) refers to the so-called transversal passage. The latter assimilates
ships proceeding to or from internal waters to the regime of innocent
 enforcement jurisdiction on the law of the sea743

passage. This enables the coastal State to exercise its control and jurisdic-
tion under the regime of innocent passage on those ships.
Article 19 of the Convention deals with the meaning of innocent pas-
sage. Its first paragraph repeats the notion contained in Article 14 (4)
of the Geneva Convention on the Territorial Sea and Contiguous Zone.
It provides:
“1. Passage is innocent so long as it is not prejudicial to the peace, good
order or security of the coastal State. Such passage shall take place in
conformity with this Convention and with other rules of international
law.”
Para. 2 enumerates a number of activities which shall be considered to be
prejudicial to the peace, good order or security of the coastal State.
Consequently, these activities will render the passage non-innocent. The
enumeration starts with a reference to “any threat or use of force against
the sovereignty, territorial integrity or political independence of the
coastal State, or in any other manner in violation of the principles of
international law embodied in the Charter of the United Nations”. The
list includes the use of or practicing with weapons of any kind; any act
aimed at collecting information to the prejudice of the defense or secu-
rity of the coastal State; any act of propaganda aimed at affecting the
defense or security of the coastal State; the launching, landing or taking
on board of any aircraft or of any military device; the loading or unload-
ing of any commodity, currency or person contrary to the customs, fiscal
immigration or sanitary laws and regulations of the coastal State; any act
of willful and serious pollution contrary to the Convention; any fishing,
research or survey activities; any act aimed at interfering with any system
of communications or any other facilities or installations of the coastal
State. This enumeration concludes with a broad reference to “any other
activity not having a direct bearing on passage”. This makes the enumera-
tion non-taxative. As has been stated, this last subparagraph “introduces
a general clause that in some way undermines the structure set up in the
preceding enumeration”.10
Some authors call into question that the list of prejudicial activities in
Article 19 (2) has served to make the notion of innocent passage more
objective and affirm that “the scope of coastal discretion has been
undeniably reduced to an unavoidable minimum”.11

10
Le Borgne (note 3), at 90.
11
 S. Ghosh, The Legal Regime of Innocent Passage Through the Territorial Sea, 20
Indian Journal of International Law 216, at 238 (1980). See also Caminos (note 1), at
36–63.
744 hugo caminos

In this regard, it has been observed that “the reference to activi-

ties suggests that the mere presence or passage of a ship could not, […]
be characterized as prejudicial to the coastal State, unless the ship
were to engage in some activity”.12 Brown also states that the list in
Article 19 (2) “makes innocence dependent on conduct during passage
and prevents the coastal State from determining the non-innocence of
a passage by reference to the character of the vessel, quite independent
of its conduct during passage […]. Under the UN Convention, it would
no longer be possible to deny a right of innocent passage to mammoth
oil tankers, nuclear powered vessels, etc. unless their behavior during
their passage through the territorial sea fell within one of the categories
of prejudicial behavior listed in article 19 (2)”.13
With regard to submarines’ passage through the territorial sea,
Article 20 provides that “submarines and other underwater vehicles are
required to navigate on the surface and to show their flag”. The rule
applies to military and commercial submarines.
Article 25 (1) of the Convention gives the coastal State the right “to
take the necessary steps in its territorial sea to prevent passage which is
not innocent”. Under para. 3 of this provision, the coastal State may
“without discrimination in form or in fact among foreign ships,
suspend temporarily in specific areas of its territorial sea the innocent
passage of foreign ships if such suspension is essential for the protec-
tion of its security, including weapons exercise. Such suspension shall
take effect only after having been duly published.” Le Borgne consid-
ers Article 25 (1) “as a preventive measure intended to hold back
passage”.14
Moreover, the Convention confers upon the coastal State a broad
legislative competence concerning innocent passage of all ships. On
this question, the Convention does not follow the 1958 Convention on
the Territorial Sea and the Contiguous Zone, which in its Article 17
contains just a general statement without specifying the matters com-
prised in that competence or its limitations.
Article 21 (1) of the Convention provides:
“The coastal State may adopt laws and regulations, in conformity with
the provisions of this Convention and other rules of international law,

12
 Churchill/Lowe (note 7), at 85.
13
Brown (note 8), at 57.
14
Le Borgne (note 3), at 90.
 enforcement jurisdiction on the law of the sea745

relating to innocent passage through the territorial sea, in respect of all or

any of the following […].”
Then this provision enumerates eight matters concerning safety of
navigation; protection of cables and pipelines; fisheries; preservation
of the environment and the prevention, reduction and control of pollu-
tion; marine scientific research and the prevention of infringement of
the customs, fiscal, immigration or sanitary laws and regulations.
Foreign ships shall comply with such laws and regulations in the exer-
cise of the right of innocent passage (Article 21 (4)).
Article 21 (2) is an exception to the legislative competence of the
coastal State: its “laws and regulations shall not apply to the design,
construction, manning or equipment of foreign ships unless they are
giving effect to generally accepted international rules or standards”.
This is related to some provisions in Part XII. For example, Article 217
(2) which, in order to prevent, reduce and control pollution of the
marine environment from vessels, obliges States to comply with the
international rules and standards, including requirements in respect of
design, construction, equipment and manning of vessels. The excep-
tion in Article 21 (2) is intended to ensure that ships flying the flag of
developing countries which comply with generally accepted interna-
tional standards will be able to exercise innocent passage through the
territorial seas of developed coastal States which, otherwise could
require more sophisticated standards.
The coastal State “may, where necessary having regard to the safety
of navigation, require foreign ships exercising the right of innocent
passage through its territorial sea to use such sea lanes and traffic sepa-
ration schemes as it may designate or prescribe for the regulation of the
passage of ships” (Article 22 (1)). For this purpose, “the coastal State
shall take into account” the recommendations of the competent inter-
national organization–the International Maritime Organization–and
other factors listed in para. 3 of Article 22.
How can the legislative competence of the coastal State be character-
ized? Churchill and Lowe observe that “although the […] Convention
strongly suggests that coastal State legislative jurisdiction is limited,
since the listed topics are not even presented as examples, as they have
been in the 1930 and 1958 texts, there is still some doubt”.15 These

 Churchill/Lowe (note 7), at 95. “They may charge for specific services rendered,
15

such as rescue or pilotage but not in a manner that discriminates between ships of
746 hugo caminos

authors point out that Article 27 of the Convention provides for the
enforcement of general criminal jurisdiction in some cases and con-
clude that “the existence of general enforcement jurisdiction clearly
presupposes the existence of general legislative jurisdiction”. In view of
what they consider an uncertainty, they suggest that the legal status of
the question can best put as follows: “States may not legislate as to ham-
per–Article 24(1) of the Convention–or levy charges upon innocent
passage–Article 26 of the Convention.”
In principle, the coastal State has plenary jurisdiction to apply in its
territorial sea the norms of the Convention and its laws and regulations
adopted in conformity with the Convention. However, the Convention
has tried to balance the interests of navigation and the rights of the
coastal State derived from its sovereignty over the territorial sea.
Arts. 27 and 28, with small changes, were taken from the 1958
Convention on the Territorial Sea and the Contiguous Zone. They
deal, respectively, with the criminal jurisdiction and the civil jurisdic-
tion of the coastal State in relation to merchant ships and govern-
ment ships operated for commercial purposes passing through the
territorial sea.
Article 27 (1) provides that “the criminal jurisdiction of the coastal
State should not be exercised on board a foreign ship passing through
the territorial sea to arrest any person or to conduct any investigation
in connection with any crime committed on board the ship during the
passage”, save only in four listed cases. These are (a) if the consequences
of the crime extend to the coastal State; or (b) if the crime is of a kind
to disturb the peace of the country or the good order of the territorial
sea; or (c) if the assistance of the local authorities has been requested by
the master of the ship or by a diplomatic agent or consular officer of the
flag State, or (d) if such measures are necessary for the suppression of
illicit traffic in narcotic drugs or psychotropic substances.

different foreign flags–article 26 (2). Similarly, other legislation may not discriminate
against ships of any State or against ships carrying cargoes to, from or on behalf of any
State–article 24 (1) (b) of the Convention. They may legislate for such matters as navi-
gation, pollution, fishing, etc. listed in article 21 of the Convention […] and all ships,
whether in innocent passage or not, must comply with such laws while in the territorial
sea.” Churchill and Lowe rightly come to the conclusion that “it seems a legitimate
inference from the principle of coastal State sovereignty over the territorial sea that
States retain the right to extend any other legislation apart from that dealing with navi-
gation and so on, to foreign ships in their waters, but that they will normally be
expected, as a matter of comity, to refrain from doing so”.
 enforcement jurisdiction on the law of the sea747

At the same time, Article 27 (5) stipulates that “the coastal State
may not take any steps on board a foreign ship passing through the
­territorial sea to arrest any person or to conduct any investigation in
connection with any crime committed before the ship entered the ter-
ritorial sea, if the ship, proceeding from a foreign port, is only passing
through the territorial sea without entering internal waters”.
Article 28 (1) provides: “the coastal State should not stop or divert a
foreign ship passing through the territorial sea for the purpose of exer-
cising civil jurisdiction in relation to a person on board the ship.” Under
para. 2, the coastal States “may not levy execution against or arrest the
ship for the purpose of any civil proceedings, save only in respect of
obligations or liabilities assumed or incurred by the ship itself in the
course or for the purpose of its voyage through the waters of the coastal
State”.
Article 27 (1) uses the expression “should not” while para. 5 states
“may not take any steps”. The same distinction is found in Article 28 (1)
and (2) when stipulating, respectively, that the coastal State “should not
stop or divert” and that it “may not levy execution or arrest the ship for
the purpose of any civil proceedings”. According to Brown these “dif-
ferent formulations reflect the different jurisdictional nature of the
zones in which the alleged offence or the cause of the civil action took
place. Thus, where the alleged offence has taken place on board a vessel
during its passage through the territorial sea, the coastal State, by vir-
tue of its sovereignty over that area, would be entitled to exercise juris-
diction. However, as a matter of comity rather than legal obligation, the
coastal State is urged in Article 27 (1) not to exercise jurisdiction except
in the four cases specified.”16
The situation is different in those cases where the alleged offence has
been committed beyond the territorial sea (Article 27 (5)) or, when the
obligations or liabilities were not assumed or incurred by the ship “in
the course or for the purpose of its voyage through the waters of the
coastal State” (Article 28 (2)). In both situations the coastal State can-
not apply the measures provided for in its laws and regulations.
The prohibition on exercising jurisdiction under Article 27 (5)
has two exceptions. The first one in Article 220 (2) allows a coastal
State to take enforcement measures against a vessel navigating in
its territorial sea where there are clear grounds for believing that

16
Brown (note 8), at 64.
748 hugo caminos

the vessel has violated laws and regulations of that State adopted in
conformity with the Convention or applicable international rules and
standards for the prevention, reduction and control of pollution
from vessels.
The second exception is linked with the sovereign rights of the
coastal State in Part V dealing with the Exclusive Economic Zone.
Article 73 stipulates that the coastal State “may, in the exercise of its
sovereign rights to explore, exploit, conserve and manage the living
resources in the exclusive economic zone, take such measures, includ-
ing boarding, inspection, arrest and judicial proceedings, as may be
necessary to ensure compliance with the laws and regulations adopted
by it in conformity with this Convention”. Brown observes that this
provision “does not expressly say that enforcement is to take place only
in the EEZ itself and Article 27 (5) appears to be confirming that it may
take place on board the foreign ship concerned when passing through
the territorial sea”.17
The Convention contains some norms applicable to warships and
other government ships operated for non-commercial purposes, pass-
ing through the territorial sea of a coastal State. In the first place, these
ships, like all ships, must comply with the laws and regulations of the
coastal State adopted in conformity with the broad legislative jurisdic-
tion conferred upon it by the Convention.
The Convention lists several activities prejudicial to the peace, good
order or security of the coastal State which make passage through the
territorial sea non-innocent. Some of these activities could be carried
out by warships, such as any exercise using weapons; the launching,
landing or taking on board of any aircraft, the launching and the land-
ing or taking on board of any military device. These activities, among
others, give the coastal State the right to “take the necessary steps in its
territorial sea to prevent passage which is not innocent” (Article 25
(1)). However, by reason of the immunities of warships (Article 32) if
these ships do not comply with the laws and regulations of the coastal
State, the latter is unable to apply against them the enforcement meas-
ures provided for in its legislation. But this immunity does not mean
that these ships are exempted from the duty to comply with the
Convention rules on innocent passage. Article 30 provides, “[i]f any
warship does not comply with the laws and regulations of the coastal

 Id., at 63.
17
 enforcement jurisdiction on the law of the sea749

State concerning passage through the territorial sea and disregards any
request for compliance therewith which is made to it, the coastal State
may require it to leave the territorial sea immediately”. Professor
Oxman18 observes that “[t]he power to require departure from its ter-
ritory is of course the classic remedy for a State that lacks enforcement
jurisdiction over the sovereign agent or instrumentality of a foreign
State, be it a diplomat or a warship”. Churchill and Lowe comment that
“the coastal State may use any force necessary to compel them to do so.
This will allow the upholding of laws on matters such as customs, navi-
gation and pollution.”19
In addition, Article 31 of the Convention provides, “[t]he flag State
shall bear international responsibility for any loss or damage to the
coastal State resulting from the non-compliance by a warship or other
government ship operated for non-commercial purposes with the laws
and regulations of the coastal State concerning passage through the
territorial sea or with the provisions of this Convention or other rules
of international law.”

III. Contiguous Zone

Article 33 (1) of the Convention, following the 1958 Convention on the
Territorial Sea and the Contiguous Zone, defines the legal status of the
contiguous zone by stating:
“In a zone contiguous to its territorial sea, described as the contiguous
zone, the coastal State may exercise the control necessary to:
(a) prevent infringement of its customs, fiscal, immigration or sanitary
laws and regulations within its territory or territorial sea;
(b) punish infringement of the above laws and regulations committed
within its territory or territorial sea.”
Para. 2 stipulates that the zone “may not extend beyond 24 nautical
miles from the baselines from which the breath of the territorial sea is
measured”.
Consequently, in the contiguous zone the coastal State only has
enforcement jurisdiction to prevent or punish infringements of its
laws and regulations committed in its territory or territorial sea. The
“control necessary” allows the coastal State to inspect suspected vessels

18
B. H. Oxman, The regime of Warships under the United Nations Convention on
the Law of the Sea, 24 Virginia Journal of International Law 809, at 817 (1984).
19
 Churchill/Lowe (note 7), at 99.
750 hugo caminos

entering its contiguous zone, their cargo, papers on board, etc. In

some cases, it could escort these vessels to a port in order to carry out
those measures in order to prevent the infringements referred to in
Article 33.
With regard to the punishment of the infringements committed in
the territory or territorial sea of the coastal State the latter may in its
contiguous zone apply the penalties laid down in its laws and regula-
tions against offender vessels.
The 1958 Convention on the Territorial Sea and Contiguous Zone
described the latter as a zone of high seas. Article 33 of the Convention
omits that reference because, under Article 55, the coastal State may
establish an exclusive economic zone “in an area beyond and adjacent
to the territorial sea”. It is clear that, in this case, the contiguous zone
and the exclusive economic zone would overlap and the former would
no longer be a part of the high seas. Under this assumption, the con-
currence of both regimes would have the result that “in case of conflict
between the rights and powers of the coastal State in the contiguous
zone and those of the other States in the EEZ, it will always be neces-
sary to compare, and resolve the conflict between, the detailed provi-
sions of Part V on the EEZ and Articles 33 and 111 on the contiguous
zone”.20
Article 111 regulates the right of hot pursuit of a foreign ship that a
coastal State may undertake from the contiguous zone and which may
continue beyond this zone if such pursuit has not been interrupted.
Para. 1 of this provision stipulates that “the hot pursuit of a foreign ship
may be undertaken when the competent authorities of the coastal State
have good reasons to believe that the ship has violated the laws and
regulations of that State. Such pursuit must be commenced when the
foreign ship or one of its boats is within the internal waters, the archi-
pelagic waters, the territorial sea or the contiguous zone of the pursu-
ing State if the pursuit has not been interrupted. It is not necessary
that, at the time when the foreign ship within the territorial sea or the
continuous zone receives the order to stop, the ship giving the order
should likewise be within the territorial sea or the contiguous zone.
If the foreign ship is within a contiguous zone, as defined in article 33,

20
Brown (note 8), at 130. See also H. Caminos, Contiguous Zone, in: R. Wolfrum
(ed.), Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law (2008), available at www
.mpepil.com.
 enforcement jurisdiction on the law of the sea751

the pursuit may only be undertaken if there has been a violation of the
rights for the protection of which the zone was established.”
In its Judgment of 1 July 1999 in the M/V “SAIGA” (N°2) Case (Saint
Vincent and the Grenadines v. Guinea), the International Tribunal for
the Law of the Sea examined some of the conditions for the exercise of
the right of hot pursuit.
In the first place, the Tribunal noted “that the conditions for the
exercise of the right of hot pursuit under article 111 of the Convention
are accumulative; each of them has to be satisfied for the pursuit to be
legitimate under the Convention. In this case the Tribunal finds that
several of these conditions were not fulfilled.” Then, concerning the
requirement that the coastal State has “good reasons” to believe that
the foreign ship has violated the laws and regulations of that State, the
Tribunal considered, on the basis of the evidence before it, that at
the time the order to pursue the ship was issued the authorities of the
coastal State “could have had no more than a suspicion” that a tanker
had violated its laws in the exclusive economic zone. Furthermore, it
noted that the auditory or visual signals to stop were not given to the
ship, and that the alleged pursuit was interrupted, because the patrol
boat which was sent to search for the ship was recalled when informa-
tion was received that the ship had changed course. The Tribunal stated
that “[t]his recall constituted a clear interruption of any pursuit, what-
ever legal basis might have existed for its commencement in the first
place”. Finally, regarding the pursuit which, as the defendant asserts,
would have commenced the next day, the Tribunal considered that the
evidence adduced by Guinea did not support its assertion that the nec-
essary auditory or visual signals to stop had been given to the ship
before the commencement of the alleged pursuit, as required by Article
111 (4) of the Convention. The Tribunal also declared that, although its
conclusion on the question of the legality of the pursuit had not been
based on Guinea’s suggestion that a violation of its customs laws had
occurred in the contiguous zone, “its conclusion on this question
would have been the same […]. For, even in that case, the conditions
for the exercise of the right of hot pursuit, as required under article 111
of the Convention, would not have been satisfied […].”21

21
The M/V “SAIGA” (No. 2) Case (Saint Vincent and the Grenadines v. Guinea),
Judgment of 1 July 1999, ITLOS Reports of Judgments, Advisory Opinions and Orders
1999, 10, at 59–61 (paras. 146 to 152).
752 hugo caminos

IV. Straits Used for International Navigation

Part III of the Convention institutes a special régime of passage through
straits used for international navigation: the right of transit passage.
“This new legal régime of passage through straits effectively balanced
the competing interest of States bordering straits and naval powers
merging two ideas. The first was to make a distinction between two
categories of straits so that a less-stricted régime than innocent passage
could be applied only to the most important straits. The second idea
was to ensure that this new legal régime, being much more liberal than
innocent passage, be not identical to the freedoms of navigation and
overflight applicable in the high seas. This approach essentially created
an intermediate category of passage; the right of ‘transit passage’
through international straits connecting two parts of the high seas or
exclusive economic zones with another.”22
Article 38 (2) defines transit passage as “the exercise in accordance
with this Part of the freedom of navigation and overflight solely for
the purpose of continuous and expeditious transit of the strait between
one part of the high seas or an exclusive economic zone and another
part of the high seas or an exclusive economic zone”.
What are the duties of the States bordering straits concerning transit
passage?
Article 38 (1) states that transit passage “shall not be impeded”.
Under Article 42 (2) States bordering straits may not “adopt laws and
regulations relating to transit passage” that “have the practical effect of
denying, hampering or impairing the right of transit passage”. Article
44 stipulates that “States bordering straits shall not hamper transit pas-
sage” and that it shall not be suspended.
The common obligations of ships and aircraft during transit passage
consist essentially in proceeding without delay, refraining from any
threat or use of force and “from any activities other than those incident
to their normal modes of continuous and expeditious transit” (Article
39 (1)). While the test of “innocence” does not apply to transit passage,
some of the obligations imposed on ships and aircraft in their passage
through straits are, to a certain extent, similar to those imposed on
ships during their innocent passage through the territorial sea.

22
 H. Caminos, The legal Régime of Straits in the 1982 United Nations Convention
on the Law of the Sea, 205 Recueil des Cours 9, at 122 (1987).
 enforcement jurisdiction on the law of the sea753

However, non-compliance with these common duties does not entail

the application of enforcement mechanisms.
Has the State bordering a strait the right to take enforcement meas-
ures when foreign ships or aircraft violate the norms of Article 39 dur-
ing transit passage? Do these violations result in impeding the right of
transit passage?
A look into the legislative history would show that the right of transit
passage is not linked to the duties listed in Article 39. The latter duties
rather state a code of self-discipline, violation of which would not give
the States bordering a strait the power to take enforcement measures
against a ship passing through the strait. Violation of these duties
would render the flag State internationally responsible, without confer-
ring on States bordering straits the right to determine violations, or to
deny transit passage based on those determinations. In these cases, the
only remedy available to States bordering straits would be to make a
claim against the flag States through diplomatic means or through
other methods of settlement of international disputes. This approach is
quite different from the one followed in Article 25 (1) on innocent pas-
sage, which, as we observed, confers upon the coastal State the right “to
prevent passage which is not innocent”.
Article 39 (2) enumerates other duties applicable, respectively, to
ships and aircraft during transit passage. With regard to ships, this pro-
vision mentions compliance with generally accepted international reg-
ulations for safety at sea and those dealing with the prevention of
pollution from ships. This amounts to making these rules applicable
independently of their acceptance by the flag State. Aircraft must
observe the Rules of the Air established by ICAO and at all times moni-
tor the radio frequency assigned by the competent air traffic control
authority.
As in the case of innocent passage through the territorial sea, States
bordering straits may designate sea lanes and prescribe traffic separa-
tion schemes for navigation in straits. However, the competence of
States bordering straits to dictate rules on these matters is more
restricted than that of coastal States over their territorial seas. While
the latter shall “take into account” the recommendations of the compe-
tent international organization–the IMO–States bordering straits,
before designating or substituting sea lanes or traffic separation
schemes, must refer proposals to the competent international organi-
zation with a view to their adoption. This organization may adopt only
such sea lanes and schemes as may be agreed with the States bordering
754 hugo caminos

the straits, after which the States may designate, prescribe or substitute
them (Article 41).
The duty of ships in transit passage to respect applicable sea lanes
and traffic separation schemes is strengthened by the competence of
States bordering straits to adopt laws and regulations concerning the
safety of navigation, the prevention, reduction and control of pollution,
the prevention of fishing and the loading or unloading of any com-
modity, currency or person in contravention of the customs, fiscal,
immigration or sanitary laws (Article 42 (1)). As stated earlier, the laws
and regulations adopted by States bordering straits must not in their
application “have the practical effect of denying, hampering or impair-
ing the right of transit passage” (Article 42 (2)).
Comparable to the case of Article 39, the jurisdiction conferred on
States bordering straits under Article 42 is not of an enforcement char-
acter and transgressor ships cannot be arrested or subject to inspection
or any other kind of measures which could prevent transit passage.
This means that the State bordering a strait the laws of which are vio-
lated could only have recourse to legal proceedings against the ship, or
against the flag State of a ship entitled to foreign immunity. Both shall
bear international responsibility for any loss and damage which results
to States bordering straits (Article 42 (5)).
A State bordering a strait does not, with regard to transit passage,
have the same enforcement jurisdiction as that conferred upon coastal
States regarding innocent passage through the territorial sea. The only
clearly expressed exception is that set out in Article 233 in Part XII of
the Convention. If a foreign ship not enjoying sovereign immunity has
committed a violation of the laws and regulations in respect of the
safety of navigation or the control of pollution under Article 42 (1) (a)
and (6), “causing or threatening to cause major damage to the marine
environment of the straits, the States bordering the straits may take the
appropriate enforcement measures […]”.
This provision would support the view that the Convention does not
confer upon States bordering straits the necessary jurisdiction to take
enforcement measures in every instance in which they have legislative
jurisdiction.
In order for a State bordering a strait to take enforcement measures
under Article 233, it is necessary that a direct connection exists between
the violation committed by the ship passing through the strait, the
safety of navigation or the control of pollution and the resulting
damage to the marine environment of the strait. If the “major damage”
 enforcement jurisdiction on the law of the sea755

is only potential or a “threat”, the State bordering the strait may deter-
mine the probability that the threat will materialize, as well as the
expected damage to the marine environment. According to Professor
Koh, the test for what constitutes “threat of major damage” should be
“an odds on probability” that an accident will occur, taking into account
the occurrence of accidents in the particular strait, the size of the ship
and the nature of its cargo.23
Given that Article 42 (2) prevents States bordering straits from
adopting laws and regulations which in their application have the prac-
tical effect of denying, hampering or impairing the right of transit pas-
sage, it is necessary to reconcile this provision with Article 233 which
authorizes those States to “take appropriate enforcement measures”
to preclude major damage to the marine environment of the straits.
As Article 220 of the Convention permits the physical inspection of
the vessel and its detention where the evidence so warrants, as well as
the institution of legal proceedings, it could be maintained that those
are the measures envisaged in Article 233.
Since Article 233 does not differentiate between the type of enforce-
ment measure allowed in case of either violation contemplated in
Article 92 (1) (a) and (b), namely the safety of navigation and control
of pollution, the enforcement jurisdiction granted should be the same
for both types of violation. Thus, a violation of a State’s safety-of-navi-
gation regulations should be treated no more harshly than a violation
of a pollution-control regulation, and vice versa.
Once a violation occurs, and it causes or threatens major damage
to the marine environment of a strait, the appropriateness of a State’s
enforcement jurisdiction “shall respect mutatis mutandi the provi-
sions of section 7 of Part XII, (article 233 in fine)”. Section 7, “Safeguards”,
spells out measures to facilitate proceedings, physical investigations
of vessels, monetary penalties and the like; basically those measures
stipulated in Article 220. Thus, a State bordering a strait may pursue
those measures alluded to in section 7, making the necessary changes
as applied to straits. In support of this conclusion Professor Oxman
wrote:
“With respect to the enforcement problem, a new provision has been
added to the pollution chapter, making it clear that the straits State
may take appropriate enforcement measures in the face of a serious

23
K. L. Koh, Straits in international navigation: Contemporary Issues, at 160 (1982).
756 hugo caminos

pollution threat subject to the same pollution enforcement safeguards

as apply generally.”24
Article 226 sets out useful guidelines to be considered in the carry-
ing out of investigations of foreign vessels in straits. For example,
it stipulates that States shall not delay a foreign vessel longer than is
essential for purposes of investigation. The physical investigation
shall be limited to an examination of such certificates, records or
other documents as the vessel is required to carry by generally
accepted rules and standards. Further physical inspection may be
undertaken only after such examination of the vessel and only when
there are clear grounds for believing that the condition of the vessel or
its equipment does not correspond substantially with the particulars of
those documents or their content is not sufficient to confirm or verify
a suspected violation, or the vessel is not carrying valid certificates
and records. There are clear grounds for believing that the condition
of the vessel does not correspond substantially with the particulars of
those documents or their content is not sufficient to confirm or verify
a suspected violation, or that the vessel is not carrying valid certificates
or records.
Having regard to these enforcement safeguards, States bordering
straits should, as far as possible, respect the general rule that transit
passage shall not be impeded. In every case the actions of States
bordering straits should be proportionate and non-arbitrary.
In some straits excluded from transit passage,25 the regime of inno-
cent passage applies (Article 45 of the Convention).

V. Archipelagic Waters
Part IV of the Convention covers Archipelagic States which it defines
as those “constituted wholly by one or more archipelagos and may
include other islands” (Article 46 (a)). Archipelagic waters are those
enclosed on the landward side of the archipelagic baselines of archipe-
lagic States. The drawing of these baselines is regulated in Article 47.
The breadth of the territorial sea, the contiguous zone, the exclu-
sive economic zone and the continental shelf are to be measured
from archipelagic baselines drawn in accordance with Article 47

24
B. H. Oxman, The Third United Nations Conference on the Law of the Sea: the
1977 New York Session, 72 American Journal of International Law 57, at 65 (1978).
25
 Hugo Caminos, Categories of International Straits Excluded from the Transit
Passage Regime under Part III of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea,
 enforcement jurisdiction on the law of the sea757

(Article 48). The sovereignty of an archipelagic State extends to the

waters enclosed by the archipelagic baselines regardless of their depth
or distance from the coast (Article 49 (1)). This sovereignty extends to
the airspace over the archipelagic waters, as well as to their bed and
subsoil, and the resources contained therein (Article 49 (2)). Within its
archipelagic waters, the archipelagic State may draw closing lines for
the delimitation of internal waters in accordance with Arts. 9, 10 and
11 of the Convention dealing, respectively, with the drawing of base-
lines in the mouths of rivers, bays and ports.
Ships of all States enjoy the right of innocent passage through archi-
pelagic waters, in accordance with Part II, section 3, of the Convention
and subject to the provisions of Article 53, which allows the archipe-
lagic State to establish another type of passage through these waters,
and without prejudice to the delimitation of internal waters (Article 52
(1)). Archipelagic States may, without discrimination in form or in fact
between foreign ships, temporarily in specified areas of its archipelagic
waters suspend the innocent passage of those ships if such suspension
is essential for the protection of their security. Such suspension shall
take effect only once it has been duly published (Article 52 (2)).
The other type of passage through archipelagic waters is the so-
called archipelagic sea lanes passage. Archipelagic States may designate
sea lanes, and air routes thereabove, suitable for the continuous and
expeditious passage of foreign ships and aircraft through or over their
archipelagic waters and the adjacent territorial sea (Article 53(12)).26

in: T. M. Ndiaye/R. Wolfrum (eds), Law of the Sea, Environmental Law and Settlement
of Disputes, 583–592 (2007).
26
Brown observes that this provision poses the question whether ships and aircraft
are bound to use archipelagic sea lanes or air routes if they are designated by the archi-
pelagic State. “So far as ships are concerned”, he says, “it would appear that they are not
so bound and in this respect it seems that archipelagic sea lanes passage differs from
either sea lanes designated by the coastal State in the territorial sea or sea lanes desig-
nated by a strait State. As regards the territorial sea, under article 22(1) of the UN
Convention, the coastal State may require the use of sea lanes where necessary having
regard to the safety of navigation. Similarly, under article 41(1), since sea lanes may be
designated by a strait State where necessary to promote the safe passage of ships, it may
be assumed what ships may be required to use them. However, article 53 neither says
may require nor refers to any element of necessity for their adoption. It may be assumed,
therefore, that there is no obligation for ships to use designated sea lanes. […] Aircraft
which chose not to use designated air routes are in rather a different position. Article
52 recognizes a right of innocent passage through archipelagic waters only for ships;
aircraft have not such a right of innocent passage. Thus, aircraft choosing not to exer-
cise a right of archipelagic sea lane passage through a designated air route would not
enjoy any other right of overflight–unless of course under an agreement with the archi-
pelagic State”, Brown (note 8), at 120–121.
758 hugo caminos

Archipelagic sea lanes passage is basically the same as transit

passage. This is confirmed in Article 54 which stipulates that Arts. 39,
40, 42 and 44, dealing with transit passage, apply mutatis mutandi
to archipelagic sea lanes passage. Consequently, the legislative and
enforcement jurisdiction of the archipelagic State are, in general, those
corresponding to innocent passage in the archipelagic waters, and to
transit passage in international straits, in archipelagic sea lanes.27

VI. Exclusive Economic Zone. Continental Shelf

The exclusive economic zone is an area beyond and adjacent to the ter-
ritorial sea, subject to the specific legal régime established in Part V of
the Convention (Article 55).
In the EEZ, the coastal State has sovereign rights for the purpose of
exploring and exploiting, conserving and managing the natural
resources, whether living or non-living, of the waters superjacent to the
seabed and of the seabed and its subsoil, and with regard to other activ-
ities for the economic exploitation and exploration of the zone (Article
56 (1) (a)). The coastal State also has jurisdiction as regards (i) the
establishment and use of artificial islands, installations and structures;
(ii) marine scientific research; (iii) the protection and preservation of
the marine environment. In addition, the coastal State has other rights

27
 According to Churchill and Lowe, the cross-reference to the articles on innocent
passage and on transit passage “may have one unfortunate effect as far as the jurisdic-
tion of the archipelagic State over foreign shipping in archipelagic waters is concerned.
While the general jurisdictional competence–both legislative and enforcement–of the
coastal State is set out in the provisions of […] the Convention on innocent passage
and transit passage (and by cross-reference applies to innocent passage in archipe-
lagic waters and archipelagic sea-lanes passage), the Convention in its provisions
on pollution gives the coastal State additional enforcement jurisdiction in respect of
pollution over foreign vessels in the territorial sea and straits (see articles 220, 233).
This additional jurisdiction does not appear to apply in archipelagic waters. The
result, therefore, seems to be that in its archipelagic waters an archipelagic State has
less enforcement jurisdiction over foreign vessels in matters of pollution that a non-
archipelagic State in its territorial sea or straits or then the archipelagic State itself
has in its own territorial sea laying beyond its archipelagic waters. This seems anoma-
lous and undesirable […]”, Churchill/Lowe (note 7), at 127–128.
A different interpretation is based on Article 42 (1) (a), which “provides that regula-
tions for the safety of navigation and the regulation of maritime traffic may be made by
States bordering straits ‘as provided in article 41.’ […] The rules established in article 41
are adopted without expansion in article 42. Those rules are also applicable to archipe-
lagic sea-lanes passage mutatis mutandis. Through article 42, this also incorporates
mutatis mutandis the rule of article 233 into the regime of archipelagic sea-lanes pas-
sage”, M. H. Nordquist (ed.), United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea 1982,
A Commentary, Vol. II, at 487 (para. 54.7b) (1993).
 enforcement jurisdiction on the law of the sea759

and duties provided for in Article 56 (1) (b) and (c). The sovereign
rights of the coastal State with respect to the seabed and subsoil of the
zone are to be exercised in accordance with Part VI dealing with the
continental shelf (Article 56 (3)).
The zone shall not extend beyond 200 nautical miles from the base-
lines from which the breadth of the territorial sea is measured (Article
57).
In the exercise of its rights and the performance of its duties under
the Convention in the zone, the coastal State shall have due regard to
the rights and duties of other States and shall act in a manner compat-
ible with the provisions of the Convention (Article 56 (2)).
All States in the EEZ enjoy, subject to the relevant provisions of the
Convention, the freedoms of navigation and overflight and of the lay-
ing of submarine cables and pipelines, and other internationally lawful
uses of the sea relating to these freedoms, such as those associated with
the operation of ships, aircraft and submarine cables and pipelines, and
compatible with the other provisions of the Convention (Article 58
(1)). Arts. 88 to 115, in Part VII, High Seas, and other pertinent rules
of international law apply to the EEZ in so far as they are not incompat-
ible with Part V (Article 58 (2)).
In exercising their rights and performing their duties in the EEZ,
States shall also have due regard to the rights and duties of the coastal
State and shall comply with the laws and regulations adopted by the
coastal State in accordance with the Convention and other rules of
international law in so far as they are not incompatible with Part V
(Article 58 (3)).

1. Living Resources
What is the jurisdiction of the coastal State with regard to the living
resources in the EEZ?
With respect to legislative jurisdiction, Article 62 (4) stipulates that
nationals of other States to whom the coastal State has given access to
the surplus of the allowable catch “shall comply with the conservation
measures and with the other terms and conditions established in the
laws and regulations of the coastal State. These laws and regulations
shall be consistent with this Convention.” This provision lists some of
the topics which may be dealt with in these laws and regulations. Such
list is not comprehensive and the limit of the exercise of its legislative
jurisdiction by the coastal State is that “it shall be consistent” with the
Convention.
760 hugo caminos

Article 73 of the Convention deals with the enforcement of the

laws and regulations of the coastal State relating to the exploitation of
the living resources in its exclusive economic zone. It provides as
follows:
“1. The coastal State may, in the exercise of its sovereign rights to explore,
exploit, conserve and manage the living resources in the exclusive
economic zone, take such measures, including boarding, inspection,
arrest and judicial proceedings, as may be necessary to ensure com-
pliance with the laws and regulations adopted by it in conformity
with this Convention.
   2. Arrested vessels and their crews shall be promptly released upon the
posting of reasonable bond or other security.
   3. Coastal State penalties for violation of fisheries laws and regulations
in the exclusive economic zone may not include imprisonment, in
the absence of agreements to the contrary by the States concerned, or
any other form of corporal punishment.
    4. In cases of arrest or detention of foreign vessels the coastal State shall
promptly notify the flag State, through appropriate channels, of the
action taken and of any penalties subsequently imposed.”
The jurisdiction of the coastal State in the exercise of its sovereign
rights over the living resources in the EEZ to arrest those vessels and
their crews violating its fisheries laws and regulations is subject to a
limitation: arrested vessels and crews shall be promptly released upon
the posting of a reasonable bond or other security. The question of
non-compliance with this obligation by the coastal State may be sub-
mitted to a special judicial procedure. On this matter Article 292 of the
Convention stipulates:
“1. Where the authorities of a State Party have detained a vessel flying
the flag of another State Party and it is alleged that the detaining State
has not complied with the provisions of this Convention for the
prompt release of the vessel or its crew upon the posting of a reason-
able bond or other financial security, the question of release from
detention may be submitted to any court or tribunal agreed upon by
the parties or, failing such agreement within 10 days from the time of
detention, to a court or tribunal accepted by the detaining State
under article 287 or to the International Tribunal for the Law of the
Sea, unless the parties otherwise agree.
   2. The application for release may be made only by or on behalf of the
flag State of the vessel.
   3. The court or tribunal shall deal without delay with the application
for release and shall deal only with the question of release, without
prejudice to the merits of any case before the appropriate domestic
forum against the vessel, its owner or its crew. The authorities of the
 enforcement jurisdiction on the law of the sea761

detaining State remain competent to release the vessel or its crew at

any time.
   4. Upon the posting of the bond or other financial security determined
by the court or tribunal, the authorities of the detaining State shall
comply promptly with the decision of the court or tribunal concern-
ing the release of the vessel or its crew.”
The procedure under Article 292 of the Convention is quite independ-
ent of proceedings before the domestic forum of the detaining State on
the basis of its enforcement jurisdiction under Article 73. In this
respect, the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea in its first
Judgment, on 4 December 1997, declared, “[a]s regards the relation-
ship of the proceedings under article 292 of the Convention to domes-
tic proceedings, article 292, paragraph 3, states that the prompt release
proceedings shall be ‘without prejudice to the merits of any case before
the appropriate domestic forum against the vessel, its owner or its
crew’.” The Tribunal “shall deal only with the question of release” and
“upon the posting of the bond or other financial security determined
by the court or tribunal, the authorities of the detaining State shall
comply promptly with the decision of the court or tribunal concerning
the release of the vessel or its crew”.28
Except for the question of the release of the vessel and crew upon
the posting of a reasonable bond or other security, the enforcement
jurisdiction of the coastal State under Article 73 of the Convention,
including any judicial proceedings against the vessel, is not affected.29

2. Natural Resources of the Seabed and Subsoil. Continental Shelf

The sovereign rights of the coastal State with respect to the natural
resources of the seabed and subsoil shall be exercised in accordance
with the provisions on the continental shelf. This extends beyond the
territorial sea throughout the natural prolongation of its land terri-
tory to the outer edge of the continental margin, or to a distance of 200

28
The M/V “SAIGA” Case (Saint Vincent and the Grenadines v. Guinea), Judgment
of 4 December 1997, ITLOS Reports of Judgments, Advisory Opinions and Orders
1997, 16, at 27 (para. 49).
29
 As regards confiscation, not expressly mentioned in Article 73, in the “Tomimaru”
Case (Japan v. Russian Federation), Judgment of 6 August 2007, available at www.itlos.
org/case_documents/2007/document_en_296.pdf, the Tribunal, noting the decision
of the Supreme Court of the Russian Federation to confiscate the vessel found “that the
application of Japan no longer has any object and that the tribunal is therefore not
called upon to give a decision […]” (id., para 82).
762 hugo caminos

nautical miles from the baselines from which the breadth of the ter­
ritorial sea is measured (Article 76 (1)). This provision contains sev-
eral formulas to establish the line of the outer edge of the continental
margin. Such line will constitute the limit between the Area–the
common heritage of mankind–and the continental shelf. “The rights
of the coastal State over the continental shelf do not affect the legal
status of the superjacent waters or of the air space above those
waters” (Article 78 (1)). The superjacent waters beyond those con­
tinental shelves extending beyond the 200 miles of the EEZ are a part
of the high seas. The superjacent waters above the 200 mile continen-
tal shelf have the status of contiguous zone or exclusive economic
zone. In addition, Article 78 (2) provides that “[t]he exercise of the
rights of the coastal State over the continental shelf must not
infringe or result in any unjustifiable interference with navigation and
other rights and freedoms of other States as provided for in this
Convention”.

3. Marine Scientific Research in the Exclusive Economic Zone and on

the Continental Shelf
“Marine scientific research in the EEZ and on the continental shelf
shall be conducted with the consent of the coastal State” (Article 246
(2)). With regard to the continental shelf beyond the 200 miles, the
“coastal States may not exercise their discretion to withhold consent”,
“outside those specific areas which coastal States may at any time
publicly designate as areas in which exploitation or detailed explora-
tory operations focused on those areas are occurring or will occur
within a reasonable period of time” (Article 246 (6)). Article 249 lists
some of the duties of States and international organizations when
undertaking marine scientific research in the exclusive economic zone
or on the continental shelf. The list is “without prejudice to the condi-
tions established by the laws and regulations of the coastal State for the
exercise of its discretion to grant or withhold consent pursuant to arti-
cle 246, paragraph 5, including requiring prior agreement for making
internationally available the research results of a project of direct sig-
nificance for the exploration and exploitation of natural resources”.
Thus, this provision does not infringe upon the legislative jurisdiction
of coastal States.
What happens where the States or international organizations
undertaking marine scientific research in the exclusive economic
 enforcement jurisdiction on the law of the sea763

zone or on the continental shelf fail to comply with their obliga-

tions? In that case, the coastal State shall have the right to require
the suspension or cessation of any marine scientific research activities
in progress, in accordance with the provision of Article 253 of the
Convention.

4. Marine Pollution
As Judge Wolfrum affirms, the Convention “contains norms which are
designed to also bind non-members States. It has to be noted that its
Part XII on the preservation of the marine environment refers to States
rather than States parties. In particular, according to article 192 of
UNCLOS States are under an obligation to protect and preserve the
marine environment. This obligation can by now be considered to form
part of international customary law.”30
On the subject of marine pollution, the Convention confirms the
rule granting States jurisdiction to apply their legislation to ships
authorized to fly their flag. On top of that, Article 211 (2), provides
that “States shall adopt laws and regulations for the prevention, reduc-
tion and control of pollution of the marine environment from vessels
flying their flag or of their registry. Such laws and regulations shall at
least have the same effect as that of generally accepted inter­national
rules and standards established through the competent international
organization or general diplomatic conference.” This reference, which
also appears in other Articles in Part XII of the Convention, indicates
that those rules and standards “form part of customary law and that
such law may even bind States not having adhered to it”.31
Article 211 (5) further provides that coastal States “for the purpose
of enforcement […], may in respect of their exclusive economic zones
adopt laws and regulations for the prevention, reduction and control of
pollution from vessels conforming to and giving effect to generally
accepted rules and standards established through the competent inter-
national organization or general diplomatic conference”.
The question of the enforcement of the laws and regulations adopted
by the States in conformity with the Convention is dealt with in section
6 of Part XII (Arts. 213 to 222).

 Wolfrum (note 2), at 104.

30

 Id.
31
764 hugo caminos

With respect to pollution by dumping, enforcement jurisdiction is

concurrent between the coastal State and the flag State. Laws and regu-
lations adopted in conformity with the Convention and the applicable
international rules and standards shall be enforced by the coastal State
within its territorial sea, its exclusive economic zone or on its continen-
tal shelf, and by the flag State with regard to vessels flying its flag or
vessels or aircraft of its registry (Article 216 (1)). No State shall be
obliged by virtue of Article 216 to institute proceedings when another
State has already done so in conformity with that provision (Article
216 (2)).
As regards enforcement by flag States, they shall ensure that vessels
of their nationality comply “with applicable international rules and
standards […], and with their laws and regulations adopted in accord-
ance with this Convention for the prevention, reduction and control of
pollution of the marine environment from vessels and shall accord-
ingly adopt laws and regulations and take other measures necessary for
their implementation. Flag States shall provide for the effective enforce-
ment of such rules, standards, laws and regulations, irrespective of
where a violation occurs” (Article 217 (1)). Since Arts. 88 to 115, on the
régime of the high seas, apply to the exclusive economic zone in so far
as they are not incompatible with Part XV, the flag State may arrest a
ship of its nationality which has violated the above norms, because
such ships are subject to the exclusive jurisdiction of the flag State on
the high seas (Article 92).
As regards enforcement by coastal States, Article 220 of the
Convention includes a number of measures grouped in ascending
order according to the gravity of the violation. For example, where
there are “clear grounds for believing that a vessel navigating in the
exclusive economic zone or the territorial sea of a State has, in the
exclusive economic zone, committed a violation of applicable inter­
national rules and standards for the prevention, reduction and control
of pollution from vessels or laws and regulations of that State conform-
ing and giving effect to such rules and standards, that State may require
the vessel to give information regarding its identity and port of registry,
its last and its next port of call and other relevant information required
to establish whether a violation has occurred” (Article 220 (3)).
If the presumed violation has resulted in “a substantial discharge
causing or threatening significant pollution of the marine environ-
ment, that State may undertake physical inspection of the vessel
for matters relating to the violation if the vessel has refused to give
 enforcement jurisdiction on the law of the sea765

information or if the information supplied by the vessel is manifestly at

variance with the evident factual situation and if the circumstances of
the case justify such inspection” (Article 220 (5)).
Finally, “[w]here there is clear objective evidence that a vessel” has
“committed a violation […] resulting in a discharge causing major
damage or threat of major damage to the coastline or related interests
of the coastal State, or to any resources of its territorial sea or exclusive
economic zone, that State may […], provided that the evidence so war-
rants, institute proceedings, including detention of the vessel, in
accordance with its laws” (Article 220 (6)). Notwithstanding this last
paragraph, “whenever appropriate procedures have been established,
either through the competent international organization or as other-
wise agreed, whereby compliance with requirements for bonding
or other appropriate financial security has been assured, the coastal
State if bound by such procedures shall allow the vessel to proceed”
(Article 220 (7)).
Article 220 (1) deals with the enforcement jurisdiction of the port
State. It applies “when a vessel is voluntarily within a port or at an off-
shore terminal of a State”, in which case that State may institute pro-
ceedings in respect of any violation of its laws and regulations or
international rules and standards when the violation has occurred
within its territorial sea or its exclusive economic zone. This provision
extends the enforcement jurisdiction of the port State with respect to
violations of the norms on pollution from vessels to the exclusive eco-
nomic zone.
With regard to the enforcement jurisdiction of the port State, Article
218 (1) of the Convention entails an innovation of the rule of custom-
ary law. In accordance with the provision, “[w]hen a vessel is voluntar-
ily within a port or at an off-shore terminal of a State, that State may
undertake investigations and, where the evidence so warrants, institute
proceedings in respect to any discharge of that vessel outside the inter-
nal waters, territorial sea or exclusive economic zone of that State in
violation of applicable international rules and standards established
through the competent international organization or general diplo-
matic conference”. Under this provision, port States are allowed to
exercise enforcement jurisdiction in respect of any discharge “outside
the exclusive economic zone”, i.e., on the high seas or in the waters of
other States. Article 218 is in section 6 on enforcement, not in section
5, which deals with international rules and national legislation to pre-
vent, reduce and control pollution of the marine environment. Does
766 hugo caminos

this mean that in this case the port State has enforcement jurisdiction
but not legislative jurisdiction? An author observes that “port State
enforcement presupposes that the port State may enact domestic law to
deal with discharges on the high seas or in the waters of other States”.32
The proceedings pursuant to Article 218 (1) shall not be instituted in
respect of a discharge violation in the internal waters, territorial sea or
exclusive economic zone of another State “unless requested by that
State, the flag State, or a State damaged or threatened by the discharge
violation, or unless the violation has or is likely to cause pollution in
the internal waters, territorial sea or exclusive economic zone of the
State instituting the proceedings” (Article 218 (2)).
The Convention contains another provision regarding the measures
that port States shall take, as far as practicable upon request or on their
own initiative, when they have ascertained that a vessel within one of
their ports or at one of their off-shore terminals is in violation of appli-
cable international rules and standards relating to the seaworthiness
of vessels, and thereby threatens to damage the marine environment.
In this case, port States shall take administrative measures to prevent
the vessel from sailing and “may permit the vessel to proceed only
to the nearest appropriate repair yard, and, upon removal of the causes
of the violation, shall permit the vessel to continue immediately”
(Article 219).
With regard to the prevention, reduction and control of pollution
from or through the atmosphere, Article 212 (1) stipulates that “States
shall adopt laws and regulations […] applicable to the air space under
their sovereignty and to vessels flying their flag or vessels or aircraft of
their registry, taking into account internationally agreed rules, stand-
ards and recommended practice and procedures and the safety of air
navigation”. Moreover, States are to endeavor to establish global and
regional rules to prevent, reduce and control such pollution (Article
212 (3)).
This broad legislative jurisdiction is complemented by Article 222 as
regards enforcement of the laws and regulations adopted by States
under Article 212 (1). Article 222 declares that States “shall adopt laws
and regulations and take other measures necessary to implement appli-
cable international rules and standards […] to prevent, reduce and
control pollution of the marine environment from or through the

32
 T. L. McDorman, Port State Enforcement: A Comment on Article 218 of the 1982
Law of the Sea Convention, 28 Journal of Maritime law and Commerce 305, at 315
(1997).
 enforcement jurisdiction on the law of the sea767

atmosphere, in conformity with all relevant international rules and

standards concerning the safety of air navigation”.
Enforcement measures which coastal States or flag States may take
against foreign vessels which have or could have committed a violation,
such as, for example, investigations, detentions or legal proceedings,
are subject to the safeguards–Arts. 223 to 232–in section 7. These
include, among others, measures to facilitate the hearing of witnesses
and the admission of evidence in the legal proceedings (Article 223);
the requirements that the powers of enforcement against foreign ves-
sels shall only be exercised by officials or by warships, military aircraft,
or other ships or aircraft clearly marked and identifiable as being on
government service (Article 224); the duty not to endanger the safety
of navigation or otherwise create any hazard to a vessel, or bring it to
an unsafe port or anchorage, or expose the marine environment to an
unreasonable risk (Article 225); the duty not to discriminate against
vessels of any other State (Article 227); the suspension of proceedings
which could result in penalties on foreign vessels upon the taking of
proceedings to impose penalties by the flag State within six months of
the date on which proceedings were first instituted, unless those pro-
ceedings relate to a case of major damage to the coastal State, or the flag
State has repeatedly disregarded its obligation to enforce effectively the
applicable international rules and standards in respect of violations
committed by its vessels (Article 228 (1)); proceedings to impose pen-
alties shall not be instituted after the expiry of three years from the date
on which the violation was committed (Article 228 (2)); only monetary
penalties can be imposed on foreign vessels, except in the case of a will-
ful and serious act of pollution in the territorial sea (Article 230 (2));
the flag State and any other State concerned shall be promptly notified
of any measures taken against foreign vessels (Article 231); States shall
be liable for damage or loss attributable to them arising from the meas-
ures they have taken when such measures are unlawful or excessive
(Article 232).

C. Enforcement in Marine Areas beyond National

Jurisdiction
I. High Seas
Article 91 of the Convention provides that “[s]hips have the nationality
of the State whose flag they are entitled to fly”. The Convention also
maintains the principle codified in the 1958 Convention on the High
768 hugo caminos

Seas, that ships “save in exceptional cases expressly provided for in

international treaties or in this Convention, shall be subject to its exclu-
sive jurisdiction on the high seas” (Article 92). This means that on the
high seas the flag State has exclusive legislative and enforcement juris-
diction over ships of its nationality.
Article 94 develops a concept contained in the 1958 Convention,
listing a number of duties of the flag State, in order to “effectively
exercise its jurisdiction and control in administrative, technical and
social matters […]”. Among these duties, States “shall take such meas-
ures for ships flying its flag as are necessary to ensure safety at sea”.
Another duty of the State is to require the master of a ship flying its
flag, “in so far as he can do so without serious damage to the ship, the
crew or the passengers”, to render assistance to people or ships in dan-
ger (Article 98).
As regards submarine cables or pipelines beneath the high seas, the
Convention requires that every State adopt laws and regulations neces-
sary to provide that the breaking or injury by a ship flying its flag or by
a person subject to its jurisdiction of a submarine cable done willfully
or through culpable negligence in such a manner as to interrupt or
obstruct telegraphic or telephonic communications shall be a punish-
able offence. This provision does not apply when the break or injury
was caused by people who acted merely to save their lives or their ships
(Article 113). The above duty to adopt laws and regulations also extends
to providing that, “if persons subject to the jurisdiction of the State
who are the owners of a submarine cable or pipeline beneath the high
seas, in laying or repairing that cable or pipeline, cause a break in or
injury to another cable or pipeline, they shall bear the cost of the
repairs” (Article 114). Every State shall also “adopt the laws and regula-
tions necessary to ensure that the owners of ships who can prove that
they have sacrificed an anchor, a net or any other fishing gear, in order
to avoid injuring a submarine cable or pipeline, shall be indemnified by
the owner of the cable or pipeline” (Article 115).
With respect to penal jurisdiction in matters of collision or any other
incident of navigation concerning a ship on the high seas involving the
penal or disciplinary responsibility of the master or of any other person
in the service of the ship, “no penal or disciplinary proceedings may be
instituted against such person except before the judicial or administra-
tive authorities either of the flag State or of the State of which such
person is a national” (Article 97 (1)). In these cases, no arrest or deten-
tion of the ship shall be ordered by any authorities other than those of
 enforcement jurisdiction on the law of the sea769

the flag State (Article 97 (3)). This provision contradicts the decision of
the Permanent Court of International Justice in the Lotus case.
Which are the exceptions in the Convention to the rule that ships
shall be subject to the exclusive jurisdiction of the flag State on the high
seas?
The first exception stems from the duty of all States to “co-operate to
the fullest possible extent in the repression of piracy on the high seas or
in any other place outside the jurisdiction of any State” (Article 100).
The definition of piracy in the Convention follows closely the 1958
Convention. Among the acts which fall within the definition of piracy,
Article 101 mentions any illegal acts of violence or detention, or any act
of depredation, committed for private ends by the crew or the passen-
gers of a private ship or a private aircraft and directed on the high seas
or in a place outside the jurisdiction of any State against another ship
or aircraft. When the acts of piracy are committed by a warship, gov-
ernment ship or government aircraft the crew of which has mutinied
and taken control of the ship or aircraft, those acts are assimilated to
acts committed by a private ship or aircraft (Article 102).
The exception to the exclusive jurisdiction of the flag State is stipu-
lated in Article 105, which provides that every State may seize on the
high Seas or in any place outside the jurisdiction of any State, “a private
ship or aircraft, or a ship or aircraft taken by piracy and under the con-
trol of pirates and arrest the persons and seize the property on board.
The courts of the State which carried out the seizure may decide upon
the penalties to be imposed, and may also determine the action to be
taken with regard to the ships, aircraft or property, subject to the right
of third parties acting in good faith.” The seizing State may apply its
own legislative norms to the case.
The seizing State is not exempt from liability in the event that the
seizure of a ship or aircraft under suspicion of piracy “has been effected
without adequate grounds”. In that situation “the State making the
seizure shall be liable to the State the nationality of which is pos­
sessed by the ship or aircraft for any loss or damage caused by the sei-
zure” (Article 106). Seizure may be carried out “only by warships or
military aircraft, or other ships or aircraft clearly marked and identifi-
able as being on government service and authorized to that effect”
(Article 107).
Another exception to the exclusive jurisdiction of the flag State
in accordance with the Convention is unauthorized broadcasting
from the high seas, which does not appear in the 1958 Convention.
770 hugo caminos

“All States shall cooperate in its suppression […]” (Article 109 (1)). It
comprises radio or television broadcasts from a ship or installation on
the high seas intended for reception by the general public contrary to
international regulations (Article 109 (2)).
For the prosecution of any person engaged in unauthorized broad-
casting the Convention establishes concurrent jurisdiction of the flag
State of the ship, or the State of registry of the installation, the State of
which the person is a national, or any State where the transmissions
can be received or where authorized radio communication suffers
interference. On the high seas any of the abovementioned States may
arrest any person or ship engaged in unauthorized broadcasting and
seize the broadcasting apparatus (Article 109 (3) and (4)).
In conformity with Article 110 (1) dealing with the right of visit, a
warship which encounters on the high seas a foreign ship not having
complete immunity from jurisdiction in accordance with Arts. 95 and
96 of the Convention may exercise the right of visit only if there are
reasonable grounds for suspecting that the ship: (a) is engaged in
piracy; (b) is engaged in the slave trade; (c) is engaged in unauthorized
broadcasting and the flag State of the warship has jurisdiction under
Article 109; (d) is without nationality; (e) through flying a foreign flag
or refusing to show its flag, the ship is, in reality, of the same nationality
as the warship. In all these cases, the warship may proceed to verify the
ship’s right to fly its flag, and to this end “it may send a boat under
the command of an officer to the suspected ship. If suspicion remains
after the documents have been checked, it may proceed to a further
examination on board the ship, which must be carried out with all pos-
sible consideration” (Article 110 (2)). If the suspicions prove to be
unfounded, the ship shall be compensated for any loss or damage
(Article 110 (3)). These provisions apply mutatis mutandi to military
aircraft (Article 110 (4)).
As regards piracy, every State, and with respect to unauthorized
broadcasting from the high seas States mentioned in Article 109 (3),
has–in addition to the right of visit–legislative and enforcement juris-
diction over ships committing the acts stipulated in the Convention.
This situation is not the same as the one in the other cases in which the
right of visit is authorized.
Article 99 of the Convention provides that “[e]very State shall take
effective measures to prevent and punish the transport of slaves in
ships authorized to fly its flag and to prevent the unlawful use of its flag
for that purpose. Any slave taking refuge on board any ship, whatever
 enforcement jurisdiction on the law of the sea771

its flag, shall ipso facto be free.” However, as has been observed, Article
110 (3) “does not indicate what action may be taken if evidence of slave
trading is discovered […] it would appear that the only action open to
the government of a warship which discovers evidence of transport of
slaves on the high seas by a foreign ship is to report the matter to the
flag State, unless further action is consented to by the flag State either
by a general agreement or through an ad hoc arrangement”.33
With regard to ships without nationality encountered on the high
seas, the Convention only authorizes the right of visit. If the visit is car-
ried out, those ships would not enjoy the protection of any State. As has
been said, the implication of this “being that if jurisdiction were
asserted no State would be competent to complain of a violation of
international law. Widely accepted as this view is, it ignores the possi-
bility of diplomatic protection being exercised by the national State
of the individuals on such stateless ships. The better view appears to
be that there is a need for some jurisdictional nexus in order that a
State may extend its laws to those on board a stateless ship and enforce
the laws against them.”34
The Convention obliges all States to cooperate in the repression of
illicit traffic in narcotic drugs and psychotropic substances engaged in
by ships on the high seas contrary to international conventions (Article
108 (1)). “Any State which has reasonable grounds for believing that a
ship flying its flag is engaged in illicit traffic in narcotic drugs or psy-
chotropic substances may request the co-operation of other States to
suppress such traffic” (Article 108 (2)). Consequently, the flag State
exercises the repressive action and the cooperation of other States will
take place at the request of the flag State. The United Nations Convention
Against Illicit Traffic in Narcotic Drugs and Psychotropic Substances,
adopted in Vienna in 1988, contains more effective norms for interna-
tional cooperation in the fight against this crime.
Another exception to the rule of the exclusive jurisdiction of the flag
State over ships flying its flag on the high seas is the right of hot pursuit
(Article 111) to which we referred to when we dealt with the contigu-
ous zone.
Finally, although Article 221 of Part XII does not establish an express
exception to the above rule, it still makes it possible that a State may

33
Brown (note 8), at 310.
 Churchill/Lowe (note 7), at 214.
34
772 hugo caminos

take measures against a foreign ship beyond its territorial sea. It

provides:
1. “Nothing in this part shall prejudice the right of States, pursuant to
international law, both customary and conventional, to take and
enforce measures beyond the territorial sea proportionate to the
actual or threatened damage to protect their coastline or related
interests, including fishing, from pollution or threat of pollution fol-
lowing upon a maritime casualty or acts relating to such a casualty,
which may reasonably be expected to result in major harmful con-
sequences.
2. For the purposes of this article, maritime casualty means a collision
of vessels, stranding or other incident of navigation, or other occur-
rence on board a vessel or external to it resulting in material damage
or imminent threat of material damage to a vessel or cargo.”
Although the above provision does not expressly confer on States the
right to take enforcement action beyond the territorial sea in cases of
maritime casualties, it preserves the exercise of that right in conformity
with general or conventional international law.
The basic instrument on this matter is the 1969 International
Convention relating to Intervention in the High Seas in Cases of
Oil Pollution Casualties, known as the “Intervention Convention”,
adopted after the Torre Canyon accident in 1967. Under this Convention,
in cases following a maritime accident which causes or threatens to
cause pollution to their coastline, States parties may take measures on
the high seas proportionate to the actual or threatened damage (Arts. I
and V).
As regards fishing on the high seas, several international and regional
treaties authorize the application of controlling or coercive measures
by government ships against fishing vessels of other nationalities. Some
of these treaties, bilateral or multilateral, only regulate the right of visit
and inspection; others provide for the arrest and detention of the
offending vessels. An author observes that “the survey of past and
existing treaties shows certain trends in the practice of states with
regard to treaty exceptions to the rule of exclusive flag state jurisdiction
for enforcement of internationally agreed measures. […] These multi-
lateral treaties, however, are limited to fisheries specific to certain
regions or to types of fish stocks. It appears that those treaties which
contain stronger powers for non-flag states are generally either bilateral
 enforcement jurisdiction on the law of the sea773

or concluded among only a few states that are all major fishing
countries.”35
The 1995 Agreement for the Implementation of the Provisions of the
United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea of 10 December
1982 Relating to the Conservation and Management of Straddling Fish
Stocks and Highly Migratory Fish Stocks contains rules of universal
application permitting non-flag States the right of visit and inspection
of fishing vessels of other States on the high seas. Although the
Agreement, as its name indicates, is to facilitate the implementation of
the Convention, it develops the duty to cooperate in the conservation
and management of the living resources of the high seas, including by
prescribing enforcement measures. Hayashi observes that “[for] the
first time, the Agreement has established global rules enabling a party
participating in a regional fisheries agreement or arrangement to board
and inspect vessels of any other party, whether or not the latter is a
participant in such a regional agreement or arrangement, for the pur-
pose of ensuring compliance with the measures it has established. In
other words, states have agreed, through the Agreement, that their ves-
sels will be subject to inspection by another party on the high seas even
if they are not party to the regional measures.”36

II. International Seabed Area (the Area)

In order “to ensure effective protection for the marine environment
from harmful effects which may arise from activities” of exploration
for, and exploitation of, the resources of the Area, Article 145, entitled
Protection of the Marine Environment, provides that the International
Seabed Authority “shall adopt appropriate rules, regulations and pro-
cedures”. These will be “for protection from harmful effects of such
activities as drilling, dredging, excavation, disposal of waste, construc-
tion and operation or maintenance of installations, pipelines and other
devices related to such activities”. In addition, Article 209 (2) provides
that “States shall adopt laws and regulations to prevent, reduce and

35
 M. Hayashi, Enforcement by non-flag States on the high seas under the 1995
Agreement on straddling and highly migratory fish stocks, 9 Georgetown International
Environmental Law Review 1, at 10 (1996).
36
 Id., at 27. Mention should be made of the 1993 “Agreement to Promote Compliance
with International Conservation and Management Measures by Fishing Vessels in the
High Seas” under the auspices of the FAO.
774 hugo caminos

control pollution of the marine environment from activities in the Area

undertaken by vessels, installations, structures and other devices”. The
“requirements of such laws and regulations shall be no less effective
than the international rules, regulations and procedures […]”.
As regards enforcement of the provisions on marine pollution in the
Area, Article 215 stipulates: “[e]nforcement of international rules, reg-
ulations and procedures established in accordance with Part XI to pre-
vent, reduce and control pollution of the marine environment from
activities in the Area shall be governed by that Part”. Churchill and
Lowell observe that part XI “contains no provision specifically dealing
with enforcement”. In their opinion, Article 139 of the Convention
“suggests that in respect to activities by companies, whether private or
State-owned, enforcement will be by the State whose nationality the
company bears; and in respect of activities by the Enterprise enforce-
ment will be by the Enterprise and the Authority”. They also observe,
that “even in respect of non-Enterprise operations the Authority
appears to have residual enforcement powers on the basis of other pro-
visions of the Convention”.37
The superjacent waters of the Area have the legal status of high seas.
Consequently, in these waters the enforcement jurisdiction against
ships or installations carrying out activities in the Area shall be gov-
erned by the rules on the high seas.
In this respect, besides Article 221, already referred to, which extends
the jurisdiction of the coastal States to taking enforcement measures
beyond the territorial sea to protect their coastline from pollution
or the threat of pollution resulting from maritime casualties, we also
have to mention Article 142 (2), which preserves “the rights of coastal
States to take such measures consistent with the relevant provisions of
Part XII as may be necessary to prevent, mitigate or eliminate grave
and imminent danger to their coastline, or related interests from pollu-
tion or threat thereof or from other hazardous occurrences resulting
from or caused by any activities in the Area”. Finally, as has been
observed, “given the integrated nature of the marine environment, the
policy for its protection will be applied not only to the seabed as such
but also to the water column, coastal areas and other areas, under the
express terms of article 145 of the Convention”.38

 Churchill/Lowe (note 7), at 378.

37

 Dupuy/Vignes (note 6), at 667.

38
 enforcement jurisdiction on the law of the sea775

D. Conclusion

The overview of the enforcement provisions in the Convention shows

the evolution of the international law of the sea since the 1958 Geneva
Conventions. The creation of the EEZ and the introduction of the sub-
ject of the protection and preservation of the marine environment are
clear examples of that evolution. The zonal approach followed by the
Convention did not make easy the adoption of the rules on the legisla-
tive and enforcement jurisdiction in those areas where the rights and
jurisdiction of the coastal State and other States coexist.
Although, in general, legislative jurisdiction and enforcement juris-
diction go together, there are situations in which this is not so. This is
the case with the exercise of the penal and civil jurisdiction of the
coastal State during innocent passage of foreign ships through its ter-
ritorial sea or with the jurisdiction of the States bordering straits in the
application of their laws and regulations concerning transit passage.
The Convention establishes a legal framework on the basis of which
States can implement, through international agreements, the norms of
the Convention on the practice of certain activities, such as, for exam-
ple, fishing, including stipulating enforcement measures to ensure their
compliance. The 1995 implementation of the Agreement on straddling
stocks and highly migratory stocks assigns a key role to the regional
and subregional organizations, whether their scope comprises certain
maritime areas or certain fish stocks through their life cycle, in the
enforcement of the rules on the management of the resources. Several
fishing organizations have been created for that purpose in various
regions.
Some of the declarations made by States under Article 310 of the
Convention when signing, ratifying or acceding to the Convention
which met with objections by other States deal with certain provisions
relating to legislative and enforcement jurisdiction in the territorial sea
and the exclusive economic zone. This is the case, for example, regard-
ing certain issues where UNCLOS III resorted to “constructive ambi-
guity” in order to reach consensus. As Treves observes, these various
differences “evidence the strength of the tendencies to take away mat-
ters from the gray zone of article 59, either by means of interpretation
of the Convention or by intervening in the practice”.39

39
 T. Treves, Codification de droit international et pratique des Etats dans le droit de
la mer, 223 Recueil des Cours 9, at 217 (1990).
776 hugo caminos

How can these questions be resolved? Firstly, the Convention reaf-

firms an old principle of international law: the principle of good
faith in Article 300.40 Secondly, the Convention does not leave these
questions unanswered. Its response is found in the regime for the
settlement of disputes concerning the interpretation or application of
the Convention embodied in Part XV. This is why, in order to enhance
the rule of law in the oceans, it is essential that the Convention with
its machinery for the settlement of disputes be universally accepted.

40
 Article 300 provides: “States Parties shall fulfill in good faith the obligations
assumed under this Convention and shall exercise the rights, jurisdiction and free-
doms recognized in this Convention in a manner which would not constitute an abuse
of right.”
 Compliance Mechanisms in the International Law
of the Sea: From the Individual to the Collective

Robin Churchill

A. Introduction

Writers on international law often suggest, to use the words of Louis

Henkin in his well-known and oft-quoted book, How Nations Behave,
that “almost all nations observe almost all principles of international
law and almost all of their obligations almost all of the time,”1 and thus
that compliance is not really a problem in international law.2 While this
may be true generally, there are certainly areas of international law
where non-compliance is a significant issue. A few recent and current
examples may be given. The records of UN and regional human rights
treaty monitoring and judicial bodies and reports of NGOs such as
Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch reveal innumerable
and serious violations of human rights obligations. In the past decade
there have been several large-scale illegal or allegedly illegal uses of
force, such as the US-led invasion of Iraq in 2003, Ugandan military
action in the eastern Congo (found to be in breach of international law
by the International Court of Justice3) and Israeli action in Gaza in the
winter of 2008–9.4 Use of the WTO’s Dispute Settlement Understanding
since its inception in 1995 has revealed dozens of often major breaches
of WTO trade rules.5 The law of the sea is also an area of international
law where non-compliance is a significant issue. Several types of such

1
L. Henkin, How Nations Behave, at 47 (2nd ed. 1979).
2
Apart from Henkin, id. at 46–49, see also, inter alia, A. Chayes and A. H. Chayes,
The New Sovereignty: Compliance with International Regulatory Agreements, at 3–10
(1998) and V. Lowe, International Law, at 18–24 (2007).
3
Armed Activities on the Territory of the Congo (Democratic Republic of the Congo v.
Uganda) ICJ Reports 2005, 168. See also the report of the African Commission
of Human and Peoples’ Rights, Communication No.227/99, Democratic Republic of
Congo v. Burundi, Rwanda and Uganda, 14 IHRR 867 (2006).
4
See Human Rights in Palestine and Other Occupied Arab Territories: Report
of the United Nations Fact Finding Mission on the Gaza Conflict, A/HRC/12/48,
15 September 2009.
5
See the WTO’s website, http://www.wto.org/english/tratop_e/dispu_e/dispu_e
.htm, for details.
778 robin churchill

non-compliance may be mentioned by way of example. First, many

States’ claims to maritime zones are at variance with the United Nations
Convention on the Law of the Sea (hereafter UNCLOS)6, either because
of their spatial extent or the nature of the coastal State’s claimed juris-
dictional rights within them.7 Second, it is clear from the records of
port States’ inspections of ships (discussed further in section D.III
below) that many flag States are failing to exercise their responsibilities
generally to ensure that their ships are seaworthy8 and specifically to
conform with their obligations under the maritime safety conventions
adopted under the auspices of the International Maritime Organization
(IMO). Third, the fact that perhaps as much as one third of the total
global marine fish catch is taken illegally9 strongly suggests that many
flag States are failing to ensure that their vessels fish in accordance
with applicable international rules. These kinds and degrees of non-
compliance are a serious issue because they pose significant threats
to the well-being of the marine environment and the maintenance of
good order at sea. Thus, the means by which States may be induced or
coerced into complying with their international obligations, whether
relating to the law of the sea or other areas of international law, are
important. Such means are referred to in this paper as “compliance
mechanisms.” More specifically this term refers to the means (a) of
ascertaining whether a State is complying with its international obliga-
tions; and (b), if it is not doing so, of taking some kind of action to try
to persuade or compel the State to comply.
The traditional compliance mechanism in international law has
been, and in many cases continues to be, action taken unilaterally by
individual States. Thus, it is up to each State to determine whether
other States are fulfilling obligations owed to it, and where there is non-
compliance that cannot be rectified through negotiation or some other

6
United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, 10 December 1982, UNTS
Vol. 1833 No. 31363.
7
For numerous examples, see R. R. Churchill, The Impact of State Practice on the
Jurisdictional Framework contained in the LOS Convention, in: A. G. Oude Elferink
(ed.), Stability and Change in the Law of the Sea: The Role of the LOS Convention,
91 (2005); and J. A. Roche and R. W. Smith, United States Responses to Excessive
Maritime Claims (2nd ed. 1996).
8
Under UNCLOS, Art. 94.
9
D. J. Agnew, J. Pearce, G. Pramod, T. Peatman, R. Watson, J. R. Beddington and
T. J. Pitcher, Estimating the Worldwide Extent of Illegal Fishing, PLoS ONE
4(2) (2009), available at http://www.plosone.org/article/info:doi/10.1371/journal.pone
.0004570.
 compliance mechanisms779

diplomatic means, to consider taking, or threaten to take, unilateral

measures to induce the other State(s) to comply with its/their obliga-
tions. Such measures include: retortion (i.e. an unfriendly but legal
act); counter-measures; terminating or suspending a treaty, where
there is a material breach of that treaty, in accordance with Article 60 of
the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties; recourse to an interna-
tional court or tribunal where unilateral referral is possible (for exam-
ple, under the optional clause of the Statute of the International Court
of Justice); and use of force in self-defence if the non-complying act
amounts to an “armed attack” within the meaning of Article 51 of the
UN Charter.
In many areas of international law this traditional individual com-
pliance mechanism remains the paradigm. However, one of the more
interesting developments in international law has been the gradual
supplementing, and to some extent supplanting, of the traditional par-
adigm by collective compliance mechanisms. By a collective compli-
ance mechanism is meant some kind of international body that has the
competence (a) to ascertain whether there is compliance with particu-
lar international obligations by those subject to them; and (b), where
that body finds that there is non-compliance, to take some kind of
action to induce compliance. This definition could include interna-
tional courts and tribunals, but they are not considered to be collective
compliance mechanisms for the purpose of this paper because they
cannot act on their own initiative, they have restricted powers to engage
in independent fact-finding, and they can adopt only a limited range of
measures to induce States to comply. Instead, they are treated as a form
of individual compliance mechanism.
The development of collective compliance mechanisms in interna-
tional law began gradually after 1945,10 but has been particularly preva-
lent since the 1980s, especially in areas of international law such as
human rights, the environment and arms control (including nuclear
non-proliferation). In the field of human rights, examples of collective
compliance mechanisms include the reporting procedures of the UN
human rights treaty bodies, which although not originally focused on

10
The UN Security Council could be considered to be an embryonic collective com-
pliance mechanism, although it is concerned with threats to or breaches of the peace,
rather than breaches of international law as such. The Council has powers of investiga-
tion under Chapter VI of the UN Charter, and powers to induce termination of the
threat to or breach of the peace by imposing economic sanctions or authorising the use
of force under Chapter VII.
780 robin churchill

compliance, gradually came to be treated as compliance mechanisms

from the 1990s onwards;11 powers of inquiry under the UN Convention
against Torture (1984)12 and the 1999 Optional Protocol to the
Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against
Women;13 and powers of investigation under the European Convention
for the Prevention of Torture (1987)14 and the 2002 Optional Protocol
to the UN Torture Convention.15 Communications and petitions from
individuals are not considered as a form of collective compliance
mechanism because they are in nature the same as proceedings before
courts, which were considered to be a form of individual compliance
mechanism for the reasons explained earlier. In the field of the protec-
tion of the environment, the most notable development in collective
compliance mechanisms has been the introduction from the 1990s
onwards of non-compliance procedures16 in treaties such as the

11
A. H. Robertson and J. G. Merrills, Human Rights in the World, at 47–48 (4th ed.
1996).
12
Convention against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment
or Punishment, 10 December 1984, Art. 20, UNTS Vol. 1465 No. 24841. For details of
the seven inquiries so far carried out under the Convention, see its website, http://
www2.ohchr.org/english/bodies/cat/confidential_art20.htm.
13
Optional Protocol to the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of
Discrimination against Women, 6 October 1999, UNTS Vol. 2131 No. 20378, Art. 8.
For discussion of the one inquiry so far carried out under the Optional Protocol,
see B. Sokhi-Bulley, The Optional Protocol to CEDAW: First Steps, 6 Human Rights
Law Review 143, at 152–156 (2006).
14
 European Convention for the Prevention of Torture and Inhuman or Degrading
Treatment or Punishment, 26 November 1987, CETS No. 126. On the working of the
Convention, see R. Kicker, The European Convention on the Prevention of Torture
compared with the United Nations Convention against Torture and its Optional
Protocol, in: G. Ulfstein/ T. Marauhn/ A Zimmerman (eds.), Making Treaties Work:
Human Rights, Environment and Arms Control, 91 (2007).
15
Optional Protocol to the Convention against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman
or Degrading Treatment or Punishment, 18 December 2002, UNTS Vol. 2375 No.
24841, Arts. 4 and 11–16. On the operation of the Optional Protocol, see Report of
the Committee against Torture, 43rd session (2–20 November 2009) and 44th session
(26 April–14 May 2010), A/65/44 (2010), 242–270.
16
Such procedures have the following features. States parties report on the action
that they have taken to implement the treaty in question. Where such reports
indicate non-compliance by a State, other States, the treaty Secretariat and even the
non-complying State itself may request the committee established for the purpose to
examine the situation. The committee may make recommendations to the Conference/
Meeting of the Parties. The latter may adopt either facilitative measures (e.g. provision
of financial aid or technical assistance) or sanctioning measures (e.g. suspension of
rights and privileges, trade measures). See further K. N. Scott, Non-Compliance
Procedures and Dispute Resolution Mechanisms under International Environmental
Agreements, in: D. French/ M. Saul/ N. D White (eds.), International Law and Dispute
Settlement: New Problems and Techniques, at 225 (2010). See also R. Wolfrum,
 compliance mechanisms781

Montreal17 and Kyoto Protocols,18 the Convention on Long-Range

Transboundary Air Pollution,19 and the Aarhus Convention on Access
to Information, Public Participation in Decision-Making and Access to
Justice in Environmental Matters.20 In the field of arms control the
main collective compliance mechanisms are inspections carried out by
the International Atomic Energy Agency under bilateral safeguards
agreements concluded pursuant to the Nuclear Non-Proliferation
Treaty, 1968;21 inspections by the Organization for the Prohibition of
Chemical Weapons under the Chemical Weapons Convention, 1993;22
and the compliance procedures under Article 8 of the Ottawa
Landmines Convention, 1997.23

Means of Ensuring Compliance with and Enforcement of International Environmental

Law, 272 Recueil des Cours 9, at 48–52 and 110–145 (1998).
17
Montreal Protocol on Substances that Deplete the Ozone Layer, 16 September
1987, Art. 8, UNTS Vol. 1527 No. 26369. The non-compliance procedure is contained
in Decision IV/5 (1992), as amended in 1998, reproduced in Handbook for the
Montreal Protocol on Substances that Deplete the Ozone Layer, at 521–523 (8th ed.
2009). On the operation of the procedure, see id, at 260–366.
18
Kyoto Protocol to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate
Change, 11 December 1997, Art. 18, UNTS Vol. 2303 No. 30822. The non-compliance
procedure is contained in Decision 27/CMP 1: Procedures and Mechanisms relating to
Compliance, FCCC/KP/CMP/2005/8/Add 3 (2006). On the procedure, see P. Birnie/
A. Boyle/ C. Redgwell, International Law and the Environment, at 249–250 and
368–370 (3rd ed. 2009).
19
Convention on Long-Range Transboundary Air Pollution, 13 November 1979,
UNTS Vol. 1302 No. 21623. The non-compliance procedure for the Convention and its
protocols is contained in Decision 1997/2 of the Executive Body, Report of the 19th
Session, ECE/EB.AIR/75, Annex V. For discussion of the procedure, see T. Kuokkanen,
The Convention on Long-Range Transboundary Air Pollution, in: Ulfstein et al
(note 14), at 161.
20
Convention on Access to Information, Public Participation in Decision-Making
and Access to Justice in Environmental Matters, 25 June 1998, Art. 15, UNTS Vol. 2161
No. 37770. See also Decision I/7 of the Meeting of the Parties, ECE/MP.PP/2002/2
(Add.8). On the Convention’s compliance mechanisms, see V. Koester, The Convention
on Access to Information, Public Participation in Decision-Making and Access to
Justice in Environmental Matters (Aarhus Convention), in: Ulfstein et al (note 14),
at 179.
21
Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons, 1 July 1968, UNTS Vol. 729
No. 10485.
22
Convention on the Prohibition of the Development, Production, Stockpiling
and Use of Chemical Weapons and on their Destruction, 3 September 1992, UNTS
Vol. 1974 No. 33757.
23
Convention on the Prohibition of the Use, Stockpiling, Production and Transfer
of Anti-Personnel Mines and on their Destruction, 18 September 1997, UNTS
Vol. 2056 No. 35597. For discussion of this and the two preceding treaties and of
compliance mechanisms relating to arms control generally, see Ulfstein et al (note 14),
chapters 10–13.
782 robin churchill

As well as the above developments, there has also been the steady
introduction of collective compliance mechanisms in the law of the
sea. However, unlike developments in the other areas of international
law mentioned, which have been much remarked on and analysed in
the literature,24 the growth of collective compliance mechanisms in the
law of the sea as a phenomenon and trend appears to have attracted
hardly any attention or comment. It is true that individual examples of
such collective compliance mechanisms have been the subject of dis-
cussion and analysis, but there seems to be little or no recognition that
such examples can be seen as part of a broader pattern. This may be
because the growth of collective compliance mechanisms in the law of
the sea has been particularly piecemeal and ad hoc.
The aim of this paper is to draw attention to this development and to
try to explain why particular types of collective compliance mecha-
nism have been introduced in the law of the sea and what they offer
compared with the traditional paradigm (the subject of section D). The
paper begins, however, with a discussion in general terms of the advan-
tages and limitations of individual compliance mechanisms (section B)
and of collective compliance mechanisms (section C).

B. The Advantages and Limitations of the Traditional

Paradigm of Individual Compliance Mechanisms

The main advantage of individual compliance mechanisms for States is

that they retain control of the situation. They are able to react to per-
ceived non-compliance by other States when and how they wish. For
more powerful States individual compliance mechanisms may allow
them to take effective action that will put an end to non-compliance,
for example threatening counter-measures or the termination of a
bilateral treaty.
However, individual compliance mechanisms do have a number of
significant limitations, especially where issues of compliance are viewed
from the perspective of the international community in general. As
mentioned above, the concept of a compliance mechanism includes the
ability to ascertain whether there is compliance with particular inter-
national obligations by those subject to them. Under the traditional
paradigm it may be difficult in many cases for an individual State to

24
See, for example, Chayes and Chayes (note 2) and Ulfstein et al (note 14).
 compliance mechanisms783

ascertain whether there is compliance by another State. An obvious

example would be where one State suspects another State of breaching
its nuclear non-proliferation obligations. This difficulty helps to explain
why this matter is entrusted to inspectors from the International
Atomic Energy Agency under safeguards agreements concluded pur-
suant to the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (as described above).
The second feature of a compliance mechanism is the ability, where
non-compliance is established, to take some kind of action to induce
compliance. Here the traditional paradigm has many limitations. It is
dependent on one or more individual States responding to instances of
alleged non-compliance. In practice, such responses are likely to be
partial. Whether a State responds to an instance of non-compliance
depends on a variety of factors, such as its degree of legal or factual
interest in the matter at hand; foreign policy considerations (a State
may be disinclined to take action against a non-complying State
because this may damage relations with that State or prejudice some
foreign policy interest); and asymmetries of power (a small, weak State
may feel unable to take acts of retortion or counter-measures against a
powerful State because they are unlikely to have any effect on that
State’s non-complying conduct). In some situations the use of individ-
ual compliance mechanisms may prove confrontational. A good, if
rather extreme, example from the law of the sea is when the assertion
of its navigational rights by the USA, in response to Libya’s allegedly
illegal claim that the Gulf of Sidra was an historic bay, led to the USA
shooting down two Libyan aircraft in 1981.25 The use of some individ-
ual compliance mechanisms, notably counter-measures and the termi-
nation/suspension of a treaty, may be counter-productive in that they
may damage or have negative consequences for the State taking them.
Where the relevant provisions of international law are unclear or
ambiguous, the use of individual compliance mechanisms may be
problematic because it will depend on an interpretation of the provi-
sions in question that may be controversial or not widely shared by
other States.
The traditional paradigm of individual compliance mechanisms is
particularly unsuitable where obligations are owed to the international
community in general rather than specific States (as is the case, for
example, with many environmental obligations) or where obligations

25
R. R. Churchill and A. V. Lowe, The Law of the Sea, at 45 (3rd ed. 1999).
784 robin churchill

do not confer some reciprocal benefit on other States. An obvious

example of the latter is the field of human rights, where obligations are,
in practice if not necessarily in strict law, owed to natural and legal
persons within the jurisdiction of the State in question rather than to
other States, and do not confer any direct benefit on the latter.

C. The Advantages and Limitations of Collective

Compliance Mechanisms

Collective compliance mechanisms have a number of advantages com-

pared with individual compliance mechanisms. Generally they have
greater powers than individual States to ascertain whether or not a
State is complying with its international obligations. Furthermore,
their findings are likely to be more authoritative than those of individ-
ual States. A good example of this is provided in relation to the ques-
tion of whether in 2002–3 Iraq was complying with its obligations
under UN Security Council Resolution 687 not to acquire or possess
weapons of mass destruction. The reports of the UN weapons inspec-
tors during this period revealed much more and carried far more
weight than the evidence (subsequently discredited) put forward by the
USA and the United Kingdom. Second, collective compliance mecha-
nisms can be both facilitative (i.e. take steps to aid compliance through
such measures as technical assistance and financial support) and sanc-
tioning in nature. This distinction is emphasised in the Kyoto Protocol’s
Procedures and Mechanisms relating to Compliance, which creates
both a “facilitative branch” and an “enforcement branch.”26 Third, col-
lective compliance mechanisms can be both preventive (i.e. designed
to prevent non-compliance before it occurs), as well as reactive
(i.e. responding to instances of non-compliance after they have
occurred). An example of the former would be inspections under an
IAEA safeguards agreement, which are designed to prevent breaches of
the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty by non-nuclear-weapon States.
Fourth, collective compliance mechanisms are usually less politicised
and confrontational than individual compliance mechanisms; and they
are likely to provide a greater consistency of response. Finally, collec-
tive compliance mechanisms may be quicker, less formal, cheaper and
more flexible than some forms of individual compliance mechanisms.

26
See supra note 18.
 compliance mechanisms785

Collective compliance mechanisms are particularly well suited for obli-

gations owed to the international community in general.
Collective compliance mechanisms do, however, have some limita-
tions. They can only be established by the agreement of States, and
their design will only be as effective and ambitious as States are pre-
pared to accept. States may not be willing to endow collective compli-
ance mechanisms with the power to adopt legally binding measures.
Where, however, such measures are binding and carry a sanction, there
may be issues of due process involved over whether a sanctioned State
has been given a fair hearing before the sanction is imposed. Collective
compliance mechanisms usually have operational costs. The latter can
sometimes be significant; for example, those of UN human rights
supervisory committees. Collective compliance mechanisms are gen-
erally unsuitable outside the framework of a multilateral treaty regime.
They may also be unsuitable in areas where norms are unclear; and
they may not be well-equipped to address legal questions.
Of course, collective compliance mechanisms are not monolithic in
nature. Such mechanisms vary greatly in the composition of the body
entrusted with compliance (which may consist of individuals sitting in
a personal capacity or the representatives of a greater or smaller selec-
tion of States); in the role and powers that they have; and in the degree
of acceptance and co-operation that they receive from States in the
treaty regime in question. Nor are collective compliance mechanisms a
panacea for addressing the problems of non-compliance. Their effec-
tiveness will depend on their powers and the political environment in
which they operate. Nevertheless, collective compliance mechanisms
do undoubtedly have certain advantages over individual compliance
mechanisms.

D. The Development of Collective Compliance Mechanisms

in the Law of the Sea

This section charts the development of collective compliance mecha-

nisms in the law of the sea. It does not purport to be an exhaustive sur-
vey, but examines the main areas where such mechanisms have
been introduced.27 The aim in each case is to explain why a collective

27
Completely excluded from the following discussion are mechanisms designed
to promote conformity with soft law instruments, such as the FAO’s International Plan
786 robin churchill

compliance mechanism has been introduced, how it operates, and

how its use compares with the traditional paradigm of individual
compliance mechanisms. The UN Convention on the Law of the
Sea (UNCLOS) is frequently described as “a constitution for the
oceans,”28and, as this phrase indicates, the Convention forms the basic
framework of the contemporary international law of the sea. The
Convention was negotiated during the 1970s and very early 1980s, at a
time before the introduction of collective compliance mechanisms in
other areas of international law had become widespread. It is thus
not surprising that the Convention contains no general collective
compliance mechanism. It does, however, contain two specialist collec-
tive mechanisms. The first is the Commission on the Limits of
the Continental Shelf, which helps to determine compliance with the
Convention of claims to the continental shelf beyond 200 miles. The
second is the International Seabed Authority, whose duties include
seeking to ensure compliance with the rules governing the exploration
and exploitation of mineral resources in the Area, i.e. the seabed
beyond the limits of national jurisdiction. Subsequent to the conclu-
sion of the Convention, and outside its framework, collective compli-
ance mechanisms have been introduced in relation to the seaworthiness
of ships, fishing on the high seas, and the control of marine pollution.
Each of these five mechanisms is examined in turn. Notwithstanding
the introduction of these mechanisms, in large parts of the law of the
sea individual State measures remain the only form of compliance
mechanism. Furthermore, even in relation to those matters for which
there are collective mechanisms, the possibility of utilising individual
mechanisms remains and is sometimes exercised.

I. The Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf

States parties to UNCLOS are automatically entitled to a continental
shelf extending to 200 miles from the baselines. They may also estab-
lish the outer limits of their continental shelves beyond 200 miles if

of Action on Illegal, Unreported and Unregulated Fishing (2001), available at http://

www.fao.org/DOCREP/003/y1224E/Y1224E00.HTM and the Washington Global
Programme of Action on Protection of the Marine Environment from Land-Based
Activities (1995), 26 Environmental Policy and Law 37 (1996).
28
This phrase appears first to have been used by the President of the Third UN
Conference on the Law of the Sea, Ambassador Tommy Koh, at the closing session of
the Conference: see United Nations, The Law of the Sea: Official Text of the United
Nations Conference on the Law of the Sea, at xxxiii (1983).
 compliance mechanisms787

certain complex geological and geomorphological criteria, set out in

Article 76 of UNCLOS, are satisfied. The establishment of the outer
limit of the continental shelf is of interest not only to the coastal States
concerned, but also to the wider international community as the outer
limits of continental shelves mark the limits of the Area, which, together
with its mineral resources, constitute the “common heritage of man-
kind.”29 To try to ensure that States seeking to establish the limits of
their continental shelves beyond 200 miles comply with the criteria of
Article 76, UNCLOS established a Commission on the Limits of the
Continental Shelf.30 This is not an intergovernmental body, but a body
of 21 experts in geology, geophysics and hydrography sitting in their
personal capacity, elected by the States parties to UNCLOS.31 A State
wishing to establish the outer limit of its continental shelf beyond
200 miles must submit details of the proposed outer limit to the
Commission. The latter will examine the submission for its conformity
to the criteria of Article 76 and issue recommendations to the coastal
State concerned.32 If the coastal State is happy with those recommenda-
tions and establishes its outer limits on the basis of those recommenda-
tions, such limits are “final and binding.”33 If, however, the coastal State
disagrees with the Commission’s recommendations, it must make a
revised or new submission.34 It is not clear from UNCLOS how long
this dialogue should continue, or what happens if the coastal State
and the Commission cannot eventually agree.35 As well as reviewing
States’ submissions for compliance with Article 76, in something of
a judgmental role, the Commission also has a facilitative role to
assist States in preparing submissions that are likely to comply with

29
UNCLOS, Art. 136.
30
UNCLOS, Annex II, Art. 1. On the Commission, see S. V. Suarez, The Outer
Limits of the Continental Shelf, chapters 4–6 (2008); and T. McDorman, The Role of
the Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf: A Technical Body in a Political
World, 17 International Journal of Marine and Coastal Law 301 (2002).
31
UNCLOS, Annex II, Art. 2.
32
UNCLOS, Art. 76(8) and Annex II, Arts. 3–6.
33
UNCLOS, Art. 76(8).
34
UNCLOS, Annex II, Art. 8.
35
This matter has been extensively discussed in the literature. See, for example,
T. McDorman, The Entry into Force of the 1982 LOS Convention and the Article 76
Outer Continental Shelf Regime, 10 International Journal of Marine and Coastal
Law 165, at 178 (1995); and Second Report of the International Law Association’s
Committee on Legal Issues of the Outer Continental Shelf, Report of the Seventy-
Second Conference 214, at 240–243 (2006).
788 robin churchill

Article 76, by providing them with scientific and technical advice if so

requested.36
As of December 2010, 54 submissions had been made to the
Commission,37 and a further 45 submissions at least are expected over
the next few years.38 So far, the Commission has issued only 11 recom-
mendations.39 It is not clear how many of those recommendations have
been accepted and acted on. Certainly one potential difficulty concerns
the Russian submission, made in 2001. The Commission did not agree
that it met the criteria of Article 76 in all respects. It therefore invited
Russia to make a revised submission in relation to the areas con-
cerned,40 but nine years after that invitation, a revised submission has
not yet been made.
The reason for establishing the Commission, rather than leaving it to
individual States to determine if other coastal States were complying
with the criteria of Article 76, was at least in part the difficulty for other
States in being able to tell if the criteria of Article 76 were satisfied.
They would need to know, for example, where the foot of the continen-
tal slope was located, the thickness of the sedimentary rocks in the
area, and the characteristics of any submarine ridges. This is data that
often only the coastal State will possess, usually after having under-
taken lengthy and expensive surveys, and it will be keen to keep the
data confidential for commercial reasons. Furthermore, such data have
to be interpreted and applied in the context of the Article 76 criteria.
Having an independent body of experts to do this should greatly
help to avoid the disputes that might arise if such interpretation and
application were left solely to individual States. Furthermore, in some
cases other States might have little interest in seeking to establish
whether a particular State was acting in conformity with Article 76, for
example where the territory from which the continental shelf was being
delimited was an isolated island or archipelago. Thus, relying on the

36
UNCLOS, Annex II, Art. 3(1). The Commission has also provided general guid-
ance on the application of the Article 76 criteria in Scientific and Technical Guidelines
of the Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf, UN Doc. CLCS/11 (1999).
37
Information available at http://www.un.org/Depts/los/clcs_new/commission
_submissions.htm.
38
Information available at http://www.un.org/Depts/los/clcs_new/commission
_preliminary.htm.
39
Information available at http://www.un.org/Depts/los/clcs_new/commission
_recommendations.htm.
40
For the Commission’s recommendation, see http://www.un.org/Depts/los/clcs
_new/submissions_files/submission_rus.htm.
 compliance mechanisms789

traditional paradigm of individual compliance mechanisms would

probably not have been a very satisfactory means of trying to
secure compliance with Article 76. The Commission overcomes those
limitations.
There are a number of features of this compliance mechanism that
are of particular interest. First, the body dealing with compliance is not
an inter-governmental body, unlike nearly all the other collective com-
pliance mechanisms in the law of the sea examined in this paper, but a
committee of independent experts. There are parallels here with the
supervisory committees of the UN human rights treaties and some
regional human rights bodies. Secondly, the Commission is purely pre-
ventative in character. It is designed to forestall possible breaches of
Article 76 before they occur. The Commission has no role to play as a
compliance mechanism should a coastal State ignore its recommenda-
tions and establish its continental shelf in possible non-conformity
with Article 76. At this point only other States can take action to induce
the coastal State concerned to comply, for example by utilising the dis-
pute settlement procedures of Part XV of UNCLOS.41

II. The International Seabed Authority

Under UNCLOS and the 1994 Implementation Agreement42 the explo-
ration and exploitation of the mineral resources of the Area (i.e. the
seabed beyond the outer limits of the continental shelf), whether by
legal persons,43 State enterprises, States parties or the Enterprise (the
Authority’s mining arm), is regulated by the International Sea-bed
Authority,44 an international organization established by UNCLOS.45
For an entity to engage in such exploration and exploitation, it must

41
On this question, see, inter alia, G. Eiriksson, The Case of Disagreement between
a Coastal State and the Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf, in:
M. H. Nordquist/ J. N. Moore/ T. H. Heidar (eds.), Legal and Scientific Aspects of
Continental Shelf Limits, 251, at 258–259 (2004); McDorman (note 30), at 317–319;
L. D. M. Nelson, The Settlement of Disputes arising from Conflicting Outer Continental
Shelf Claims, 24 International Journal of Marine and Coastal Law 409 (2009); and ILA
Report (note 35), at 245–249.
42
Agreement relating to the Implementation of Part XI of the United Nations
Convention on the Law of the Sea of 10 December 1982, UNTS Vol. 1836 No. 31364.
43
UNCLOS actually uses the phrase “natural or legal persons”, but it seems incon-
ceivable that in practice exploration and exploitation would be by natural persons as
such.
44
UNCLOS, Arts. 137, 153 and 157 and Implementation Agreement, section 1,
para. 1.
45
UNCLOS, Part XI, section 4 and Implementation Agreement, section 1.
790 robin churchill

sign a contract with the Authority. To date eight exploration contracts

have been concluded, the first of which were signed in 2001 and last for
15 years. No production contracts have yet been signed. An entity sign-
ing a contract is required to observe not only the terms of the contract
but also relevant provisions of UNCLOS and the Implementation
Agreement (for example, on the payment of fees and the promotion of
the transfer of technology46), and any relevant provisions (for example,
on environmental protection) of regulations adopted by the Authority.
Such regulations currently comprise the Regulations on Prospecting
and Exploration for Polymetallic Nodules in the Area,47 adopted by the
Authority in 2000, and the Regulations on Prospecting and Exploration
for Polymetallic Sulphides in the Area,48 adopted in 2010.
Not surprisingly, it is the Authority that is charged with ensuring
that those with whom it has signed contracts (which may, and in prac-
tice do, include States and State enterprises) observe the terms of the
contract, relevant provisions of UNCLOS and the Implementation
Agreement, and the Authority’s regulations.49 To this end the Authority
has the power to request the provision of information and to appoint
inspectors to inspect installations and to see whether the terms of the
contract and the relevant rules and regulations are being complied
with. Where they are not, the Authority may impose monetary penal-
ties and/or suspend or terminate the contract.50 Where a contract has
been signed by a legal person (as opposed to a State body), the State of
the nationality of that person has a responsibility to ensure that that
person complies with the terms of the contract and the relevant rules
and regulations.51 Failure to do so incurs liability unless that State has
taken “all necessary and appropriate measures to ensure effective com-
pliance” by the legal person concerned.52 So far, in the relatively brief

46
Implementation Agreement, section 8, para. 1 and section 5, respectively.
47
ISBA/6/A/18, 4 October 2000. Reproduced in A. V. Lowe and S. A. G. Talmon,
The Legal Order of the Oceans, at 671 (2009).
48
The text of the Regulations was not available on the Authority’s website at the time
of writing.
49
UNCLOS, Arts. 153(4) and (5), 162(2)(a) and (l), and 165(2)(c), (f), (k) and (m).
50
UNCLOS, Arts. 153(5), 162(2)(z), and 165(2)(m); and Annex III, Art. 18.
51
UNCLOS, Arts. 139(1) and 153(4); and Annex III, Art. 4(4).
52
UNCLOS, Art. 139(2). See also Annex III, Art. 4(4). The obligations of Art. 139(1)
and (2) are the subject of an advisory opinion delivered by the Sea-bed Disputes
Chamber of the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea on 1 February 2011: Case
No. 17, Responsibilities and Obligations of States sponsoring Persons and Entities with
respect to Activities in the Area. The text of the opinion is available on the website of the
Tribunal.
 compliance mechanisms791

history of mineral exploration in the Area (commercial mining not yet

having begun), compliance does not appear to have been a problem.
It is not surprising that the drafters of UNCLOS opted for a collec-
tive compliance mechanism, in the shape of the Authority, for the
exploration and exploitation of mineral resources in the Area. The tra-
ditional paradigm would not work well. It would be difficult for States
to detect non-compliance by other States or by entities having the
nationalities of other States. Where non-compliance was suspected,
any attempt by a State to try to induce another State to comply would
be likely to be confrontational and risk running into conflict with the
Authority in its role as a party to a contract for exploration or produc-
tion. Nevertheless, the possibility of the traditional paradigm being
utilised does not appear to be completely excluded since the categories
of dispute over which the Sea-bed Disputes Chamber has jurisdic-
tion includes disputes between States parties over the application of
UNCLOS in the Area.53

III. Collective Compliance Mechanisms Relating

to the Seaworthiness of Ships
Article 94 of UNCLOS requires its States parties to ensure that ships
flying their flags are seaworthy and adequately manned, and to this end
they are required to “conform to generally accepted regulations” on
these matters. Such regulations are contained in a number of conven-
tions adopted under the auspices of the International Maritime
Organization (IMO), notably the International Convention for the
Safety of Life at Sea (SOLAS),54 the International Convention on
Loadlines (the Loadlines Convention)55 and the International
Convention on Standards of Training, Certification and Watchkeeping
for Seafarers (the STCW Convention).56 These conventions have been
very widely ratified–the SOLAS Convention is binding on 159 States,
which collectively have 99.04 per cent of the world fleet by gross ton-
nage under their flags, the Loadlines Convention also binds 159 States

53
UNCLOS, Art. 187(a).
54
International Convention for the Safety of Life at Sea, 1 November 1974, UNTS
Vol. 1184 No. 18961. The Convention has been amended numerous times.
55
International Convention on Loadlines, 5 April 1966, UNTS Vol. 640 No. 9159.
56
International Convention on Standards of Training, Certification and Watch­
keeping for Seafarers, 1 December 1978, UNTS Vol. 1361 No. 23001. The Convention
was extensively amended in 1995 and 2010.
792 robin churchill

(with 99.02 per cent of the world fleet) and the STCW Convention
binds 154 States (99.15 per cent of the world fleet).57 For many years it
has been evident from the investigations of shipping casualties and
inspections in port that a number of flag States have not been comply-
ing with their obligations under Article 94 of UNCLOS and the IMO
conventions mentioned, with the result that there have been, and con-
tinue to be, too many sub-standard ships sailing the seas, posing a
threat to the health and safety of their crews and passengers, to other
ships, and to the marine environment.
If flag States are unwilling or unable to ensure that their ships com-
ply with international safety and manning standards, the only other
States that in practice can take any action to compel such ships to com-
ply are port States, i.e. the States in whose ports ships are at any time
present. Under customary international law a port State can in theory
make it a criminal offence for a ship not complying with international
standards to be present in its ports, and then prosecute any ships sus-
pected of committing such an offence. In practice, this form of indi-
vidual compliance mechanism rarely happens, presumably because
most States are reluctant to spend what could be considerable sums of
money and effort in prosecuting foreign ships. Instead, port States
engage in control measures. The various IMO conventions and, to a
degree, UNCLOS (in Articles 218, 219 and 226) authorize port States
to inspect foreign ships for their conformity with international stand-
ards and to detain unseaworthy ships and not permit them to proceed
to sea until appropriate repairs have been carried out.58
Under the traditional paradigm each port State would exercise these
powers of control individually. The disadvantage of such an approach is
that some port States might be less diligent than other port States, or
indeed might simply turn a blind eye to sub-standard ships. If this hap-
pened, sub-standard ships would avoid ports where port States were
known to be strict in exercising their powers of control and instead use
ports where port States were known to be lax. This would lead to the
development of “ports of convenience.” To try to avoid such a develop-
ment, States have come together on a regional basis and concluded
memoranda of understanding (MOUs) for the collective exercise of the

57
Information available at http://www.imo.org/. The information given was correct
at 31 January 2011.
58
SOLAS, Regs. I/I9, XI-1/4 and XI-2/9; Loadlines Convention, Art. 21; and STCW
Convention, Art. X and Reg. I/4.
 compliance mechanisms793

powers of port State control. Such MOUs have been concluded between
the maritime authorities of the States concerned, rather than between
States as such. Thus, they are not, strictly speaking, treaties but agree-
ments between government agencies. Nevertheless, they have some
normative status. Such regional MOUs include the Paris MOU, con-
cluded in 1982 and covering most of Europe and Canada; the Tokyo
MOU, concluded in 1993 and covering the Asia-Pacific region; the
Viña del Mar MOU, concluded in 1992, covering Latin-America; and
MOUs applying to the Caribbean Sea (1996), the Mediterranean Sea
(1997), Indian Ocean (1998), West and Central Africa (1998), the Black
Sea (2000) and Arabian/Persian Gulf (2006).59 Between them these
MOUs cover nearly all the major ports of the world, with the exception
of ports in the USA.60 For reasons of space, only the Paris MOU will be
discussed here, but the other MOUs, especially the Tokyo MOU, oper-
ate in a similar way. In practice the Paris and Tokyo MOUs are by the
far the most important, since between them they inspect more ships
than all the other MOUs put together.
The Paris MOU has been amended many times since it was origi-
nally concluded in 1982. The most recent amendments came into
force at the beginning of 2011, and it is the 2011 version of the MOU
that forms the basis of the discussion here. The effect of successive
amendments has been to make inspections of ships more targeted, to
focus more on the performance of flag States and not just the condi-
tion of individual ships, and to move from a co-ordinated exercise of
individual powers of port State inspection to a more genuinely collec-
tive system. Under the MOU each maritime authority undertakes to
inspect every ship of Priority I Category to see whether it complies
with whichever of 15 listed conventions the port State in question is a
party to, and to inspect such ships of Priority II status as will take the
number of inspections of Priority I and Priority II ships by that author-
ity up to its annual commitment of inspections, which is calculated

59
Nearly all these MOUs have websites which provide the texts of the MOUs. For
further discussion of these regional MOUs, see H.S. Bang, Is Port State Control an
Effective Means to Combat Vessel-Source Pollution?, 23 International Journal of
Marine and Coastal Law 715, at 726–744 (2008); T. McDorman, Regional Port State
Control Agreements: Some Issues of International Law, 5 Ocean and Coastal Law
Journal 207 (2000); and Z. O. Özcayir, Port State Control (2nd ed. 2004).
60
The US Coast Guard exercises port State control over foreign ships in ways that
are similar to the Paris and Tokyo MOUs, and there is general co-operation and
exchanges of information between the Coast Guard and the Paris and Tokyo MOUs.
794 robin churchill

each year.61 It is irrelevant whether the flag State of the ship concerned
is or is not a party to the conventions concerned.62 Each authority must
try to ensure that all deficiencies detected are rectified or allow the ship
to proceed to a port where such rectification can be carried out. In the
case of deficiencies that are “clearly hazardous to safety, health or the
environment,” the authority must “ensure that the hazard is removed
before the ship is allowed to proceed to sea.”63 As described thus far, it
might seem that the Paris MOU amounted to no more than the co-
ordinated exercise of individual port States’ powers of inspection and
detention, and was directed at ships rather flag States. Such comments
would probably have been justified in the early days of the Paris MOU
and are probably true of some of the more recent regional MOUs.
However, the Paris MOU has institutional machinery (albeit simple)
that takes it beyond the mere co-ordination of individual port State
powers; and it is also directed at flag States as well as individual ships.
As regards institutional machinery, there is a committee that oversees
the operation of the MOU. In particular, it promotes the harmonisa-
tion of port State control procedures, and develops guidelines and pro-
cedures for carrying out inspections and the exchange of information.64
Day to day matters are dealt with by the secretariat, directed by an advi-
sory board. The secretariat maintains a centralised data base through
which the records of individual ports’ inspections and detentions are
recorded and disseminated, and from which Priority categories of ships
may be identified.65
The Paris MOU is concerned not only with the conditions of indi-
vidual ships, but also with the performance of flag States. The Secretariat
publishes annually black, grey and white lists of flag State performance
based on the inspection and detention history of ships flying the flag of
the States concerned over the previous three years.66 Currently, there
are 24 flag States on the Black List (several with very small merchant
fleets), 19 on the Grey List and 39 on the White List.67 The publication

61
Paris MOU, sections 1.3, 2.1, 2.3 and Annex 2. The criteria for Priority I and II
ships are set out in Annex 8.
62
Paris MOU, section 2.4 and Annex 1, para. 1.
63
Paris MOU, section 3.4.
64
Paris MOU, section 7.1–7.3.
65
Paris MOU, section 7.4.
66
Paris MOU, Annex 7, para. 10.
67
Paris MOU on Port State Control, Annual Report 2009, at 24–33, available at
https://parismou.org/Content/PublishedMedia/cab1f247-2507-4fab-a4db
-6c5ac1cf8957/Annual%20report%202009.pdf.
 compliance mechanisms795

of these lists is not only an exercise in naming and shaming, but also
has some practical consequences. Ships having the nationality of States
on the Black or Grey Lists and which have been detained in the past are
to be banned from entering Paris MOU ports, either temporarily or
permanently.68 A shipowner whose ships have the nationality of a State
on the Black or Grey Lists may well consider re-registering such ships
under the flag of a State on the White List in order to avoid the risk of
its ships being banned from Paris MOU ports. Such a move would
reduce the income from ship registration that the flag State receives.
This might induce such a flag State to exercise its responsibilities more
diligently so that it was removed from the Black and Grey lists.
As regards the practical impact of the Paris MOU on compliance
with international seaworthiness and manning standards, the picture is
not altogether clear. The proportion of deficiencies found to the num-
ber of inspections carried out has changed relatively little over the
years.69 One might conclude from these figures that the Paris MOU has
had little impact on the standard of shipping. Such a conclusion would
not necessarily be justified. First, the number of regulations for compli-
ance with which ships are inspected has increased over the years. All
other things being equal, one would expect this to lead to an increase
in the number of deficiencies discovered, especially in the years imme-
diately following the introduction of a new regulation. Second, since
the mid 1990s the Paris MOU has targeted inspections at ships, or
types of ship, that are suspected of being more likely not to comply with
international safety standards, unlike earlier years when all ships were
treated equally. Thus, one cannot compare the figures for earlier years
with those for more recent years, and so it is difficult at present to
determine any long-term trends. It should also be noted that the num-
ber of deficiencies per inspection is a relatively crude form of measure-
ment as it treats each deficiency alike, although some deficiencies are
likely to be much more serious than others. On the other hand, since
2000 there has been a steady decrease in the proportion of ships being
detained, from nearly 10 per cent in 2000 to just over four per cent in
2009.70 However, this trend may not necessarily indicate a global

68
Paris MOU, section 4. 85 ships are currently banned: for a list, see http://
parismou.org/Inspection_efforts/Bannings/Banning_list/.
69
Paris MOU on Port State Control, Annual Report 2009, at 24–25. This gives
figures since 2000. For figures for earlier years, see earlier Annual Reports.
70
Paris MOU on Port State Control, Annual Report 2009, at 25.
796 robin churchill

decrease in the number of sub-standard ships, but possibly that such

ships have transferred their operations to other areas of the world
where there are no, or less stringent, regional MOUs. In recent years
the number of States on the Black List has increased, but again one
should be wary about jumping to clear-cut conclusions. First, the fig-
ures are affected by the same factors as affect the proportion of defi-
ciencies found. Second, some of the States on the Black List have very
small merchant shipping fleets, so that their inclusion on the List does
not necessarily reflect the state of world merchant shipping fleets as a
whole. Thirdly, some of the States that have featured on recent Black
Lists are States (such as Mongolia) that appear to be setting themselves
up as open registries. If they do not succeed, and the fact that they are
on the Black List may very well mean that they will not, they are likely
to disappear from future Black Lists.
Apart from regional MOUs on port State control, the IMO also has a
modest role as a collective compliance mechanism in relation to the
seaworthiness of ships. In 1992 it set up a special committee to monitor
implementation of its conventions by flag States. The committee put
forward a set of Guidelines, adopted by the IMO Assembly in 1997,
which specify the means for flag States to establish and maintain meas-
ures for the effective application and enforcement of the relevant con-
ventions.71 The Guidelines are therefore facilitative in nature, designed
to promote compliance. A second initiative by the IMO was the adop-
tion in 1995 of amendments to the STCW Convention, which for the
first time introduced a requirement for States parties to report to the
IMO on their implementation of one of its conventions. Based on such
reports, the IMO publishes a list of States parties that are deemed to
have implemented the Convention satisfactorily. Omission from this
list therefore has a naming and shaming function. It may also influence
individual shipowners in their choice of flag State when registering
their ships. Unfortunately, such a reporting system has yet to be
extended to any other IMO safety convention. A third initiative was the
adoption in 2005 of a voluntary Member State Audit Scheme under
which a Member State may ask the IMO to audit the extent to which
it complies with and enforces the provisions of IMO conventions
to which it is a party.72 More than 30 such audits have now been

71
IMO Assembly Resolution A.847 (20) (1997).
72
IMO Assembly Resolution A.974 (24) (2005). See also Resolution A.996 (25)
(2007) (as amended by Resolution A.1019 (26) (2009)), which sets out the audit stand-
ard in the Code for the Implementation of Mandatory IMO Instruments.
 compliance mechanisms797

c­ ompleted.73 However, the scheme has some significant limitations.

It is voluntary; the IMO does not appear to publish the results of audits
(although some individual flag States have published the results of their
own audits); and the scheme lacks any mechanism to deal with such
instances of non-compliance as are revealed by the audit.74 Like the
Guidelines on flag State implementation mentioned earlier, the Scheme
is essentially a facilitative, rather than any kind of sanctioning, compli-
ance mechanism. In 2009 the IMO set in train a process designed to
make the scheme compulsory by 2015.75 The steps that the IMO has so
far taken to develop itself as a compliance mechanism for international
standards concerning the seaworthiness of ships are rather modest.
This is probably largely explained by the fact that as an organization,
the IMO sees itself primarily as a technical body and seeks to avoid
political controversy if at all possible, especially in relation to issues
that may raise questions about the practice of open registries.

IV. Collective Compliance Mechanisms Relating

to Fishing on the High Seas
Fishing is one of the freedoms of the high seas. This means that in prin-
ciple every State has the right for vessels flying its flag to fish on the
high seas. This right is, however, subject to various obligations under
UNCLOS. In particular, Article 117 requires every State to take, in
respect of its nationals, such measures as may be necessary for the con-
servation of the living resources of the high seas. Secondly, Article 118
requires States to co-operate over such conservation. In practice, such
co-operation has largely taken the form of establishing regional fisher-
ies management organizations (RFMOs) to manage the living resources
for particular regions of the high seas. Some dozen or so RFMOs now
exist.76
In those regions of the high seas where RFMOs have not been estab-
lished, the only mechanism that exists for trying to ensure that States
abide by their conservation obligations is the traditional paradigm of

73
Information available at http://www5.imo.org/SharePoint/blastDataHelper.asp/
data_id%3D26386/council102.htm.
74
International Commission on Shipping, Final Report, at 12–13 (2005), available
at http://www.icons.org.au/pdfs/Report_27072005.pdf.
75
IMO Assembly Resolution A.1018 (26) (2009).
76
For details of such organizations, see R. R. Churchill and D. Owen, The EC
Common Fisheries Policy, at 112–118 (2010) and literature cited there.
798 robin churchill

individual State measures. It is not well suited for the task. States may
find it difficult to discover the level and nature of fishing by the vessels
of a particular State and thus determine whether that State is comply-
ing with the very broadly phrased obligations of Article 117 of
UNCLOS. Most States will, in any case, lack the interest to want to
consider taking measures to induce a State to comply with its conserva-
tion obligations in respect of an area of high seas which may lie far
from their coasts and in which their own vessels do not fish. This situ-
ation is compounded by the fact that ships on the high seas are in prin-
ciple subject only to the jurisdiction of their flag State.77
In regions where RFMOs do exist, two issues of compliance arise–
compliance by members of a RFMO with conservation and manage-
ment measures adopted by the RFMO and compliance by non-members
fishing in a RFMO’s region with their conservation obligations under
Article 117 of UNCLOS. As regards the former, most RFMOs have
adopted a range of collective measures to induce compliance both by
their member States and by fishing vessels having the nationality of
their member States. Compliance measures directed at vessels will help
flag States to comply with their obligation to ensure that their vessels
abide by RFMO measures. Such vessel-directed collective compliance
measures include international inspection schemes (whereby a fishing
vessel having the nationality of a member State of the RFMO in ques-
tion may be inspected by a fisheries enforcement vessel having the
nationality of any other member State of that RFMO); international
observer schemes (under which observers are placed on board fishing
vessels to monitor a vessel’s compliance with the RFMO’s measures);
requiring fishing vessels to report on their movements and activities
within and into and out of the area for which the RFMO is responsible;
and requiring port States to prohibit the landing of catches that appear
to have been taken in contravention of RFMO management measures.
As regards directly inducing compliance with their measures by their
member States, RFMOs have taken such steps as publicizing the action
taken (or lack of it) by flag States in response to allegations of non-
compliance by their vessels with RFMO measures and reducing a
RFMO member’s future catch quotas where it has exceeded its pre-
scribed quotas.78

77
UNCLOS, Art. 92(1).
78
For more detailed discussion of the measures outlined in this paragraph,
including some of their drawbacks, see M. Lodge, D. Anderson, T. Løbach, G. Munro,
 compliance mechanisms799

The position of non-members fishing in a region of the high seas

where a RFMO exercises conservation and management obligations is
more complex. The UN Fish Stocks Agreement79 requires its parties to
prohibit their vessels from fishing in an area managed by a RFMO if
they are not members of that RFMO or do not apply the conservation
and management measures of that RFMO to their vessels.80 The Fish
Stocks Agreement and the FAO Compliance Agreement81 each require
their parties to ensure that their fishing vessels do not engage in any
activity that undermines the effectiveness of the RFMO’s conservation
and management measures.82 However, the two Agreements have a
limited number of parties. For States that are not parties, it may be that
the obligation not to undermine can be subsumed within the broad
conservation obligations of Article 117 of UNCLOS. Be that as it may,
most RFMOs have directed action against non-member States whose
vessels fish in their region. Some RFMOs have introduced cooperating
non-member schemes whereby they will allocate small quotas to those
non-members that are prepared to cooperate and observe the manage-
ment measures of the RFMO concerned. For non-members that are
not willing to co-operate (especially flags of convenience), tougher
measures have been introduced by a number of RFMOs. Such meas-
ures include requiring members of an RFMO to prohibit the landing in
their ports of catches taken by non-member vessels in the RFMO’s area
and prohibiting transshipment between RFMO member vessels and
non-member vessels.83
The measures taken by RFMOs described above are clearly a form of
collective compliance mechanism. They have a considerable element of
fact-finding, such as the international inspection and observer schemes

K.Sainsbury and A. Willock, Recommended Best Practices for Regional Fisheries

Management Organizations, at 44–66 (2007); and R. Rayfuse, To Our Children’s
Children’s Children: From Promoting to Achieving Compliance in High Seas Fisheries,
20 International Journal of Marine and Coastal Law 509, especially at 516–523 and
525–531 (2005).
79
Agreement for the Implementation of the Provisions of the United Nations
Convention on the Law of the Sea of 10 December 1982 relating to the Conservation
and Management of Straddling Fish Stocks and Highly Migratory Fish Stocks,
4 December 1995, UNTS Vol. 2167 No. 37924.
80
Arts. 8(4) and 17.
81
Agreement to Promote Compliance with International Conservation and
Management Measures by Fishing Vessels on the High Seas, 24 November 1993, UNTS
Vol. 2221 No. 39486.
82
Fish Stocks Agreement, Art. 18(1) and Compliance Agreement, Art. III(1)(a).
83
See further Lodge et al. (note 78), at 62–66.
800 robin churchill

and the reporting obligations. Unlike some of the other collective

mechanisms looked at in this section, they are almost wholly con-
cerned with enforcement and sanctioning, rather than being facilita-
tive. Given the number of RFMOs and the range of compliance
measures they employ, it is impossible to generalize about the effective-
ness of those measures. Some RFMOs have undoubtedly had some
success with some of their measures.

V. Collective Compliance Mechanisms Relating to Marine Pollution

Marine pollution is an issue where the traditional paradigm of States
taking individual compliance measures against their fellow States
that they believe not to be complying with their obligations has major
limitations. First, it may be difficult for a State to detect from which
particular State marine pollution originates. This is particularly the
case with low-level pollution from land-based sources. Second, most
marine pollution is caused by non-State actors: it may be difficult to
determine if and when such pollution may be attributed to a State
under the law of State responsibility. Third, many obligations relating
to marine pollution, particularly as regards land-based marine pollu-
tion, are expressed in broad and general terms, and it may therefore be
difficult to determine whether or not a State is complying with its obli-
gations.84 Fourth, States will often lack the interest to consider taking
measures against a non-complying State. This point is borne out by the
fact that although UNCLOS gives port States a power that they did not
previously have, to prosecute ships for pollution offences committed
beyond their maritime zones,85 there appear to be no reports of any
such prosecutions yet having taken place. Marine pollution would
therefore seem to be a matter that should be well-suited for the intro-
duction of collective compliance mechanisms to offset the limitations
of the traditional paradigm; and such mechanisms have indeed been
introduced, although much more gradually and recently than in the
case of the seaworthiness of ships and high seas fishing. There are many
treaties laying down standards for the control of pollution, but only
four of them have any form of collective compliance mechanism–two
global treaties and two regional treaties.

84
Further on this point, see E.A. Kirk, Noncompliance and the Development
of Regimes addressing Marine Pollution from Land-Based Activities, 39 Ocean
Development and International Law 235 (2008).
85
UNCLOS, Art. 218.
 compliance mechanisms801

The two global treaties are the International Convention for the
Prevent of Pollution from Ships (MARPOL)86 and the Convention on
the Prevention of Marine Pollution by Dumping of Wastes and Other
Matter (usually known simply as the London Convention).87 MARPOL
was adopted under the auspices of the IMO. Like most other IMO con-
ventions, MARPOL itself contains no form of collective compliance
mechanism.88 However, MARPOL is one of the conventions in respect
of which inspections by port States take place under the regional mem-
oranda of understanding on port State control, discussed above.89 In
the case of the Paris MOU, inspections were originally limited to seeing
whether a ship was carrying the documentation and equipment (such
as oily water separating or filtering equipment) required by MARPOL.
More recently inspections under the Paris MOU have also become
concerned with checking for evidence of operational pollution.90
The London Convention was adopted in 1972. In its original form it
banned the dumping of the most toxic wastes and made the dumping
of other wastes subject to a licensing system. Given the time at which
it was drafted, it is hardly surprising that the Convention contained
no form of collective compliance mechanism.91 In 1996 the parties to
the London Convention concluded a protocol,92 which, as between the
parties to it (39 as at 31 January 2011), replaces the 1972 Convention
with what is effectively a new convention.93 The latter replaces the
former licensing system with a system of so-called “reverse listing”,

86
International Convention for the Prevent of Pollution from Ships, 2 November
1973, UNTS Vol. 1340 No. 22484.
87
Convention on the Prevention of Marine Pollution by Dumping of Wastes and
Other Matter, 29 December 1972, UNTS Vol. 1046 No. 15749.
88
The nearest MARPOL comes to a collective compliance mechanism is Art. 17,
which calls on States parties to promote support for those parties requesting technical
assistance. The provision of such assistance will help to facilitate compliance with
MARPOL by the States parties assisted. Arts. 6 and 11 require States parties to provide
information about their implementation and enforcement of MARPOL to other par-
ties and the IMO. The availability of such information would make it easier for States
parties to utilise individual compliance mechanisms if they were so minded. To the
writer’s knowledge, none ever has.
89
Powers of inspection and detention are given by MARPOL, Arts 5, 6(2) and 6(5);
Annex I, Reg. 11; Annex II, Reg. 15; Annex III, Reg. 8; and Annex V, Reg. 8.
90
Paris MOU, section 6. See also Annex 9, paras. 4 and 6.
91
But note that Art. IX is similar to Art. 17 of MARPOL (see supra note 88), and
therefore will help to facilitate compliance.
92
Protocol to the Convention on the Prevention of Marine Pollution by Dumping of
Wastes and Other Matter, 7 November 1996, 36 ILM 1 (1997).
93
Note that at least 45 States remain parties only to the 1972 Convention.
802 robin churchill

under which all dumping is prohibited apart from a few substances

(such as fish waste and materials dredged from harbours) whose dump-
ing is allowed, subject to a permit. This reverse listing system should
make it easier to determine whether a State party is complying with the
new convention. The Protocol also makes provision for a collective
compliance mechanism. Article 11(1) provides that no later than two
years after the entry into force of the Protocol (which occurred in
2006), the Meeting of Contracting Parties “shall establish those proce-
dures and mechanisms necessary to assess and promote compliance
with” the Protocol. Such procedures and mechanisms were adopted in
2007.94 They establish a Compliance Group consisting of not more than
15 individuals, selected on the basis of their scientific, technical or legal
expertise.95 Instances of possible non-compliance by a State party to the
Protocol may be referred to the Compliance Group by the Meeting of
Contracting Parties, by the State party itself, or by another State that
has an interest that is likely to be affected by the possible non-compli-
ance.96 The Group shall investigate the matter, and may recommend to
the Meeting of Contracting Parties that one or more of the following
measures be taken: the provision of advice and recommendations with
a view to assisting the State concerned implement the Protocol; the
facilitation of co-operation and assistance; the elaboration of compli-
ance action plans; or “the issuing of a formal statement of concern
regarding a Party’s compliance situation”.97 The Meeting of Contracting
Parties may endorse any of those recommendations or “may also con-
sider additional measures within its mandate, as appropriate, to facili-
tate compliance by the Party concerned”.98 Thus, the Protocol’s
non-compliance mechanism, with the possible exception of statements
of concern, appears to be entirely facilitative in nature, rather than hav-
ing any sanctioning element. As of August 2010 no situations of possi-
ble non-compliance had been referred to the Compliance Group.99 The
Protocol also has provisions on providing technical assistance, designed
to help promote compliance, similar to Article 17 of MARPOL and
Article IX of the original London Convention, referred to above.

94
Compliance Procedures and Mechanisms pursuant to Article 11 of the 1996
Protocol to the London Convention, LC 29/17, annex 7.
95
Id., paras. 3.1 and 3.2.
96
Id., para. 4.1.
97
Id., para. 5.1.
98
Id., para. 5.4.
99
LP-CG 3/1/1, 18 August 2010.
 compliance mechanisms803

Turning now from global to regional treaties, a number of regional

treaties, concerned primarily with the control and prevention of marine
pollution from sources other than ships, were concluded from the early
1970s onwards, most under the auspices of UNEP’s Regional Seas
Programme.100 In the 1990s three of those treaties–those for the Baltic
Sea, Mediterranean Sea and North-East Atlantic Ocean–were replaced
or extensively revised. Two of these “second generation” regional
marine pollution treaties have collective compliance mechanisms. The
first is the so-called OSPAR Convention.101 Article 23 provides that on
the basis of the reports on their implementation of the Convention that
States parties are required to submit under Article 22, the Commission
established by the Convention is to assess States parties’ compliance
with the Convention and with the decisions and recommendations
adopted by the Commission. When appropriate, the Commission shall
call on States parties to take steps to bring about full compliance, and
promote the implementation of measures to help States carry out their
obligations. It is not clear whether the Commission has ever exercised
its powers under Article 23 since the Convention came into force in
1998. Certainly, there is no mention of such exercise in the Commission’s
annual reports for recent years, nor is there any obviously available
information on the Commission’s website.
The second regional marine pollution treaty with a collective com-
pliance mechanism is the Barcelona Convention, following its amend-
ment in 1995.102 Article 27 is very similar to Article 23 of the OSPAR
Convention, discussed above. However, Article 27 of the Barcelona
Convention has been the subject of much more action than appears
to have been the case with Article 23 of the OSPAR Convention.
In 2008 the 15th Meeting of the Parties to the Barcelona Convention
adopted procedures and mechanisms on compliance.103 These centre
on a Compliance Committee, consisting of seven experts, nationals of

100
For details, see Churchill and Lowe (note 25), at 333–338.
101
Convention for the Protection of the Marine Environment of the North-East
Atlantic, 22 September 1992, UNTS Vol. 2354 No. 42279.
102
Convention for the Protection of the Marine Environment and the Coastal
Region of the Mediterranean, 16 February 1976, UNTS Vol. 1102 No. 16908. The 1995
amendments may be found at 31 Law of the Sea Bulletin 65 (1996).
103
Decision IG 17/2: Procedures and Mechanisms on Compliance under the
Barcelona Convention and its Protocols in Report of the 15th Ordinary Meeting of the
Contracting Parties to the Convention for the Protection of the Marine Environment
and the Coastal Region of the Mediterranean and its Protocols, UNEP (DEPI) MED
IG.17/10, 18 January 2008, Annex V, at 21.
804 robin churchill

the States parties, sitting in their personal capacity.104 The role of the
Committee is to consider specific situations of actual or potential non-
compliance as well as general compliance issues.105 Referrals of actual
or potential non-compliance by a State may be made by that State itself,
other States or the Convention secretariat.106 The Committee is to
investigate the matter, and taking into account all the circumstances
(including the capacity of the State concerned), it may provide advice,
request the State concerned to develop an action plan and make pro-
gress reports to it, or recommend the Meeting of the Contracting
Parties, in the event of a serious, on-going or repeated situation of non-
compliance, to issue a caution, issue a report of non-compliance or
consider and take any additional action that may be required for the
achievement of the purposes of the Convention and its protocols.107 As
of the end of 2009, the latest date for which information was available
on the Convention website at the time of writing, the Committee had
not yet dealt with any allegations of non-compliance.

E. Conclusions

The collective compliance mechanisms relating to the law of the sea

surveyed above exhibit considerable diversity. First, the composition of
the bodies responsible for dealing with compliance in a particular
treaty system varies considerably. In some case (such as the Commission
on the Limits of the Continental Shelf and the Barcelona Convention
Compliance Committee), the compliance body consists of a group of
individual experts serving in a personal capacity. In other cases (such
as the Paris MOU Committee), the compliance body comprises the
representatives of States; and in yet other cases the compliance body is
an international organization, such as the International Seabed
Authority, the IMO or a regional fisheries management organization.
Furthermore, in some cases there is but one compliance body; in other
cases (such as the London Protocol and the Barcelona Convention)
there is one body that makes recommendations to a second body (such
as the Conference/Meeting of the Parties). The roles and powers of

104
Id., paras. 2–11.
105
Id., para. 17.
106
Id., paras. 18 and 23.
107
Id., paras. 24–34.
 compliance mechanisms805

compliance bodies also vary considerably. Most bodies are concerned

with responding to alleged instances of non-compliance after they
occur, but the Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf has
a wholly preventative role, as also, to some extent, does the IMO in
respect of the STCW Convention. Of the bodies charged with a
response following an instance of alleged non-compliance, most have
powers limited to taking action to try to help the non-complying State
comply with its obligations through the provision of advice and assis-
tance. However, a few bodies (such as the regional MOUs on port State
control and the regional fisheries management organizations) have the
power to adopt measures that are sanctioning in nature. It is difficult to
make a judgment on the effectiveness of the collective compliance
mechanisms surveyed in this paper, not just because of their diversity,
but also because in the case of some mechanisms (such as the
International Seabed Authority, the London Protocol and the Barcelona
Convention) there is little or no experience of their operation in prac-
tice. However, it would seem, for the reasons that were explained at
appropriate points above, that these mechanisms provide, or have the
potential to provide, a more effective means of responding to non-
compliance than traditional individual compliance mechanisms.
The question arises whether collective compliance mechanisms
should be extended beyond their current extent to other areas of the
law of the sea. Space allows only the briefest consideration of this ques-
tion. Judged by what has been achieved so far, there would seem to be
both scope and advantage in the IMO becoming more involved in
overseeing compliance with the conventions concluded under its aus-
pices. There would also seem to be a good case for introducing collec-
tive compliance mechanisms into more marine pollution regimes,
especially at the regional level. One writer has regretted that UNCLOS
did not establish any mechanism for reviewing how well States parties
perform their duties under the Convention.108 To some extent that
omission has been made good, albeit in piecemeal fashion, by the com-
pliance mechanisms relating to the seaworthiness of ships, high seas
fishing and marine pollution that were outlined above. But other
aspects of UNCLOS are not covered. One obvious matter is one that
was referred to near the beginning of this paper, namely the many

108
T. Koivurova, A Note on the European Union’s Integrated Maritime Policy,
40 Ocean Development and International Law 171, at 172 (2009).
806 robin churchill

claims made by States to maritime zones that are at variance with

UNCLOS.109 However, this issue would probably not lend itself very
satisfactorily to a collective compliance mechanism. That is partly
because of the fact that some of the relevant provisions of UNCLOS
have a degree of ambiguity about them, such as the possible power of
States to control or prohibit military activities by other States in their
exclusive economic zones,110 and because claims to maritime zones are
seen an intimate manifestation of sovereignty, any challenge to which
risks being confrontational.
What links the areas where collective compliance mechanisms cur-
rently operate and those to which it is suggested they might be extended
is that they all involve obligations owed to the international commu-
nity in general, rather than to individual States. There are, nevertheless,
some areas of the law of the sea that are primarily bilateral in nature,
where a State owes obligations to another State rather than to the inter-
national community. That is the case, for example, with the manage-
ment of resources (whether living or non-living) that straddle a
maritime boundary between two States; or the access of the fishing ves-
sels of one State to the exclusive economic zone of another State. For
such obligations, the traditional paradigm of individual compliance
mechanisms continues to be best suited. Much of the law of the sea,
however, is concerned with obligations owed to the international com-
munity in general, or, to use the title of the classic work by McDougal
and Burke (although without necessarily endorsing its methodology),
the public order of the oceans.111 For this, collective compliance mech-
anisms are better suited than individual mechanisms. The introduction
and growing use of collective compliance mechanisms in the law of the
sea should therefore be welcomed and extended.

109
See supra text at note 7.
110
On this issue, see D. R. Rothwell and T. Stephens, The International Law of the
Sea, at 275–276 (2010).
111
M. S. McDougal and W. T. Burke, The Public Order of the Oceans (1962).
 The Dual Function of Base Points

Jean-Pierre Cot*

In recent years, the issue of base points and baselines has been dealt
with quite at length by international courts and tribunals1 addressing
claims relating to maritime delimitation between States with adjacent
or opposite coasts. However the dual function of base points has curi-
ously been neglected or cursively overlooked by the relevant literature
in international law.2 No doubt Judge Wolfrum will make a significant
contribution to the issue in the years to come. This tribute modestly
aims at recalling the development of the case law on the subject in
recent years and at mapping some of the problems which may arise in
future conflicts.
In a lone and little noticed contribution to the T. O. Elias Festschrift,3
Professor Prosper Weil underlined the duality of functions of base
points and baselines in the law of the sea. Firstly, base points and
baselines are used to determine the outer limits of the maritime juris-
diction of the coastal States. Arts. 3 to 14 of the United Nations
Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS) set the rules concerning
the determination of the baselines used to calculate the breadth of the
territorial sea. These baselines constitute the outer limit of internal
waters and the inner limit of the territorial waters of the States con-
cerned. UNCLOS Article 4 declares: “The outer limit of the territorial
sea is the line every point of which is at a distance from the nearest
point of the baseline equal to the breadth of the territorial sea.”

* Many thanks to Professor Bernard Oxman who read the draft and offered critical
remarks and useful suggestions.
1
The expression “international courts and tribunals” is loosely used here and cor-
responds to the notion of “compulsory procedures entailing binding decisions” in
UNCLOS, Part XV, section 2.
2
The major textbooks on the law of the sea ignore the issue or address it cursively.
D.W. Bowett hints at it in The Legal Regime of Islands in International Law, at 34
(1979), as does H. Dipla, Le régime juridique des îles dans le droit international de la
mer, at 18 and at 105 (1984).
3
P. Weil, A propos de la double fonction des lignes et points de base dans le droit de
la mer, in: E. G. Bello/B. A. Ajibola (eds.), Essays in Honour of Judge Taslim Olawale
Elias, Vol. 1, Contemporary International Law and Human Rights, 145 (1992);
reprinted in P. Weil, Ecrits de droit international, at 279 (2000).
808 jean-pierre cot

The points referred to in Article 4 are those chosen by the coastal

States, in accordance with the provisions of UNCLOS, to determine
the outer limits of national maritime jurisdiction. They also deter-
mine the breadth, and hence the outer limits, of the exclusive economic
zone (EEZ) and the continental shelf. Article 57 thus declares: “The
exclusive economic zone shall not extend beyond 200 nautical miles
from the baselines from which the breadth of the territorial sea is
measured.” Article 76 uses the same wording for the purpose of the
determination of the outer limit of the continental shelf.
Secondly, base points are instrumental in the delimitation of the
respective maritime jurisdiction of States with adjacent or opposite
coasts. They are used to draw lines of equidistance between adjacent or
opposite coasts. Furthermore, they may also be used to determine the
starting point or the angle of a delimitation decided by other methods.
Lastly, they may be used to calculate the respective length of relevant
coasts of the parties.
This contribution will concentrate on base points and not on base-
lines. More specifically, base lines, being a set of points, do not nor-
mally have the same dual function as base points. Their essential
function is to determine the outer limits of maritime jurisdiction, and
also the legal status of the waters concerned (internal waters, territorial
sea, continental shelf and exclusive economic zone). Base points con-
tribute naturally to the definition of baselines, in particular of straight
baselines. But they also serve as mathematical references in the con-
struction of a maritime delimitation between States with adjacent or
opposite coasts.4
The question addressed by Prosper Weil is the following: are the base
points used to measure the outer limits of maritime jurisdiction the
same as the base points used to delimit maritime jurisdiction between
adjacent and opposite coasts? As Weil noted in 1992, that may be the
case. But it is not necessarily so, because the nature and purpose of the
two different sorts of base points are not identical.
In the present contribution, aimed at assessing today the hypothesis
advanced by Prosper Weil some 15 years ago, the focus will be on the

4
UNCLOS uses the term “base points” in relation to the low water line. The ICJ
uses the term in a geometrical sense as any given point, whether chosen by the parties
or a court or tribunal, for the purpose of determination or delimitation of maritime
jurisdiction. I shall use the term in the latter sense.
 the dual function of base points809

choice and function of base points used to delimit the maritime juris-
dictions between States with adjacent or opposite coastlines.5

A. The Legal Nature of Base Points

Base points and baselines are determined by the coastal State con-
cerned in the first instance, whether they concern the outer limits
of the State’s maritime jurisdiction or the delimitation between States
with adjacent or opposite coasts. But, as the International Court of
Justice noted in the Fisheries case in 1951,6 “[t]he delimitation of sea
areas has always an international aspect”. In its judgment, the Court
decided upon certain principles to be followed by the coastal State
when drawing straight baselines. UNCLOS Arts. 5 to 14 set the rules
to be followed by coastal States when deciding upon base points
and baselines for the purpose of determining the outer limit of their
territorial waters. Article 15 sets the rules for deciding upon the delimi-
tation between territorial waters of States with adjacent or opposite
coasts. But the specific delimitation rule of Article 15 is only applicable
“failing an agreement” between the coastal States concerned. States are
naturally free to agree upon base points or baselines as they wish.
As to the delimitation of the EEZ and Continental shelf, the rules are
set by UNCLOS Arts. 74.1 and 83.1 respectively. The wording is identi-
cal in the two instances: “[t]he delimitation of the exclusive economic
zone (continental shelf) between States with opposite or adjacent
coasts shall be effected by agreement on the basis of international law,
as referred to in Article 38 of the Statute of the International Court of
Justice, in order to achieve an equitable solution.” The parties are free to
decide upon the method of delimitation and the choice of base points
or baselines in order to achieve an equitable solution. Failing an agree-
ment, nothing is said as to the rules of delimitation to be followed by
an international court or tribunal called to pronounce upon the dis-
pute. Is the international court or tribunal to use the baselines decided
by the coastal State or can it choose other base points and baselines?
International courts and tribunals have taken some time to sort out the

5
I have relied heavily on Weil’s article, especially for the material prior to 1992, and
refer the reader to the text of the article rather than multiplying footnotes.
6
Fisheries case, ICJ Reports 1951, 116, 132.
810 jean-pierre cot

dual nature of base points and its consequence, the eventual duality of
base points.

I. The Initial Confusion

The Geneva Conventions of 1958 on the law of the sea opted for unity.
The International Law Commission (ILC) considered unity of base
points and baselines as self-evident.7 The special rapporteur, Professor
J.P.A. François, referred to the median line between the “coasts” or the
“coastal line”. The debate on the issues relating to delimitation between
States with adjacent or opposite coasts did not touch upon the subject
of the single or dual nature of base points. The Commission looked
into the possibility of measuring equidistance from the outer limit of
the territorial sea. The problem of straight baselines was addressed at
length. The final wording (measurement of equidistance from base-
lines used for measurement of the breadth of the territorial sea) was
adopted for the continental shelf and subsequently for the territorial
sea and contiguous zone. At no moment did the ILC consider a possi-
ble duality of base points in delimitation issues.
The Convention on the Territorial Sea, Arts. 12 (territorial sea) and
24 (contiguous zone) and the Convention on the Continental Shelf,
Article 6, call for delimitation by reference to the principle of equidis-
tance, as calculated from the base points and baselines used to measure
the breadth of the territorial sea.
The 1982 UNCLOS Convention kept the equidistance rule, as calcu-
lated from baselines used for measurement of the outer limit of the
territorial sea, for delimitation of the territorial sea between States with
adjacent or opposite coasts, but departed from the rule for delimitation
of the EEZ and continental shelf. It is important to keep in mind the
rationale for the departure from the principle set out in the 1958
Geneva Convention on the Continental Self. As early as 1969, the
International Court of Justice distanced itself from the wording of the
1958 Convention. It noted that:
“[…] the distorting effects of lateral equidistance under certain condi-
tions of coastal configuration are nevertheless comparatively small within
the limits of the territorial sea, but produce their maximum effect in the
localities where the main continental shelf areas lie further out.”8

7
Yearbook of the International Law Commission 1953, Vol. I, UN Doc. A/CN.4/
SER.A/1953 (1959) and Vol. II, UN Doc. A/CN.4/SER.A/1953/Add. 1 (1959).
8
North Sea Continental Shelf, ICJ Reports 1969, 3, 37.
 the dual function of base points811

It added:
“In the light of these various considerations, the Court reaches the
conclusion the Geneva Convention did not embody or crystallize any
preexisting or emergent rule of customary law, according to which the
delimitation of the continental shelf areas between adjacent States must,
unless the parties otherwise agree, be carried out on an equidistance-
special circumstances basis […] those principles being that delimitation
must be the object of agreement between the States concerned and
that such agreement must be arrived at in accordance with equitable
principles.”9
The decision to refer to the median line or equidistance line in relation
to delimitation of the EEZ or continental shelf was one of the core
difficulties addressed by the United Nations Conference on the Law of
the Sea (UNCLOS III). The Conference was seriously divided on the
issue, the negotiations were protracted and the final decision not to
refer to the median line or equidistance or any other specific method
of delimitation was taken only in the last phase of the Conference.10
The Conference set the rules for agreement in order to achieve an equi-
table solution. It remained silent as to the method of delimitation by a
third party and did not touch upon the subject of base points chosen
for this purpose.
Case law was to fill the gap. In doing so, International courts and
tribunals had to address the issue of unity or duality of base points.
They did so implicitly and in a certain confusion until the mid
nineteen-eighties.
In the North Sea Continental Shelf Cases, the Court curiously
referred to “a point on its own coast” and not to “base points” or “base-
lines”, a significant lapse at that.11 It decided to ignore “the presence of
islets, rocks and minor coastal projections, the disproportionally dis-
torting effect of which can be eliminated by other means”,12 without
mentioning whether these features figured as base points for the deter-
mination of the outer limits of the territorial sea. The Court also drew
attention to the possibility for the parties to draw straight baselines “in
the view of eliminating or diminishing the distortions that might result

Id., at 41 and 46.

    9
10
M. H. Nordquist et al., United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea 1982,
A Commentary, Vol. II, at 796ff. and 948ff. (1993).
11
See supra note 9, at 17.
12
Id., at 36.
812 jean-pierre cot

from the use of that method” (equidistance).13 Interestingly, at no point

did the Court refer to the possible relationship with base points or
baselines chosen by the parties to delimit their territorial sea.
In the case of the Delimitation of the Continental Shelf between
the U.K. and France, the Court of Arbitration14 addressed the issue of
delimitation in several different areas of the continental shelf.
In the sector of the Channel Islands, the Court of Arbitration
decided it was not competent to draw a delimitation of the continental
shelves because it would have to decide upon base points relevant
for determination of the limits of the territorial sea. It noted that
“The Court does not possess any competence to determine base-
points as such, but only for the purpose, and in the course, of dis­
charging its task, under the Arbitration Agreement, of delimiting
the boundary of the continental shelf as between the parties within
the arbitration area”.15 Characteristically, the wording is somewhat
confusing.
Concerning Eddystone Rock, the Court of Arbitration noted:
“Thus, what the Court is called upon to decide is not the general question
of their legal status as an island but their relevance in the delimitation of
the median line in the Channel as between the United Kingdom and the
French Republic. No doubt, having regard to the role normally played by
the baseline of the territorial sea in the delimitation of a median line,
there is a certain connexion between the two questions. But it still
remains true that the Court is here concerned with the Eddystone Rocks
only in the particular context of the delimitation of the continental shelf
by a median line in the Channel as between the parties now before the
Court.”16
Here again, the position of the Court of arbitration is not without a
certain ambiguity. It notes the difference between the two distinct
operations of delimitation of the territorial waters and of the continen-
tal shelf. It then points to the connection between the two issues of
delimitation within territorial waters and in the continental shelf, but
does not elaborate on the nature of the “connexion”.
As to the delimitation in the Atlantic, France argued in favour of
a median line between the coasts of the two countries, or, more

13
Id., at 52.
14
Delimitation of the Continental Shelf between the United Kingdom of Great Britain
and Northern Ireland, and the French Republic (UK, France), 18 RIAA 3 (1977/1978).
15
Id., at 24.
16
Id., at 72.
 the dual function of base points813

specifically, a median line calculated from two straight lines deemed

to represent the general directions of the British and French coasts
in the Channel. Britain argued in favour of a median line calculated
from the baselines used to determine the outer limit of the respective
territorial seas. The Court of arbitration rejected both arguments, but
decided to take into account the Island of Ushant (Ouessant) while
only giving half-effect to the Scilly Islands. It thus discounted de facto
the baselines used by the United Kingdom for measurement of the ter-
ritorial sea and contested by France, not for that purpose, but for the
purposes of delimitation of the continental shelf between the two
States. But it did not say so in so many words.
In Tunisia/Libya,17 the International Court of Justice extended the
distinction between the two types of baselines and base points to non-
equidistant delimitations. It decided against including the important
Island of Djerba among the base points. It also decided not to give full
effect to the Kerkennah Islands as base points, but to allow for a half-
effect of the geographical feature. It did not take into consideration the
low-tide elevations when drawing the delimitation. In taking these
decisions, the Court in no way considered the baselines as they had
been drawn by Tunisia for the purpose of the delimitation of its territo-
rial waters. It added:
“In the circumstances of the present case, the Court is not convinced
by the Tunisian contention that the areas of internal and territorial
waters must be excluded from consideration; but in so finding it is not
making any ruling as to the validity or opposability to Libya of the
straight baselines.”18
The Court here clearly distinguished the two separate issues: that of
the legal qualification of the maritime areas concerned and that of the
maritime delimitation between the parties. It implicitly confirmed the
dual nature of the base points used for the two different operations.
In Gulf of Maine,19 the Court was very explicit in eliminating
from consideration the base points or baselines decided by the par-
ties for the purpose of determining the breadth of the territorial sea.
It rejected any reference to the method of delimitation as decided by

17
Continental Shelf (Tunisia/Libyan Arab Jamahiriya), ICJ Reports 1982, 18.
18
Id., at 76.
19
Delimitation of the Maritime Boundary in the Gulf of Maine Area, ICJ Reports
1984, 246.
814 jean-pierre cot

the 1958 Convention on the Continental Shelf, Article 6, in the follow-

ing words:
“The Chamber must point out that a line drawn in accordance with the
indications given by that provision (‘equidistance from the nearest points
of the baselines from which the breadth of the territorial sea of each State
is measured’) might well epitomize the inherent defects of a certain man-
ner of interpreting and applying the method here considered, as stressed
in paragraph 201 above; inasmuch as the likely end-result would be the
adoption of a line all of whose base points would be located on a handful
of isolated rocks, some very distant from the Coast, or on a few low-tide
elevations: these are the very type of minor geographical features which,
as the Court and the Chamber have emphasized, should be discounted if
it is desired that a delimitation line should result so far as feasible in an
equal division of the areas in which the respective maritime projections
of the two countries’ coasts overlap.”20
International courts and tribunals have thus, in the period under con-
sideration, kept at arm’s length the base points and baselines decided by
coastal States for the purpose of delimitation of the territorial sea. They
have repeatedly decided to ignore certain features which could be used
by the coastal States involved in such a delimitation, but have been
reluctant to address the issue directly, willingly or not. To quote Molière,
“Par ma foi, il y a plus de quarante ans que je dis de la prose sans que
j’en susse rien”21. Clarification was to come later.

II. The Subsequent Clarification

From 1985 on, the International Court of Justice developed its meth-
odology for the delimitation of the EEZ and the continental shelf
between States with adjacent or opposite coastlines, i.e. definition in a
first step of a provisional equidistance line and, in a second step, adjust-
ment of the provisional line to take into account special circum-
stances.22 The decision to start the operation of delimitation by drawing
a line of equidistance was not obvious, as UNCLOS had explicitly

20
Id., at 332.
21
Le Bourgeois gentilhomme, Acte II, scène 6.: “MONSIEUR JOURDAIN: By my
faith! For more than forty years I have been speaking prose without knowing anything
about it, and I am much obliged to you for having taught me that.”
22
Unless the nature of the geographical features compelled the Court to adopt
another method. But the Court has repeatedly insisted that such a method of delimita-
tion was an exception to the general rule of delimitation by drawing a provisional equi-
distance line. See infra.
 the dual function of base points815

departed from the principle of equidistance in delimitation of the con-

tinental shelf as it had been enshrined in the 1958 Convention of the
Continental Shelf.
But a method using equidistance to draw the provisional line inevi-
tably confronted the Court with the problem of the dual function of
base points and called for clarification of the issue.
In Libya/Malta,23 the Court decided to draw a line of equidistance
between the two States. Examining the question of the base points to be
chosen to construct the equidistance line, the Court took notice of the
use of the island of Filfla as a base point for the construction of the
Maltese baseline. It added:
“The Court does not express any opinion on whether the inclusion of
Filfla in the Maltese baselines was legally justified; but in any event the
baselines as determined by coastal States are not per se identical with the
points chosen on a coast to make it possible to calculate the area of con-
tinental shelf appertaining to that State. In this case, the equitableness of
an equidistance line depends on whether the precaution is taken of elimi-
nating the disproportionate effect of certain ‘islets, rocks and minor
coastal projections’, to use the language of the Court in its 1969 Judgment,
quoted above.”24
In other words, the dual function of baselines may lead the Court to
choose different base points from those chosen by the parties for the
purpose of delimiting the territorial sea. The dual function may entail
duality of base points but does not necessarily have that result.
The issue became prominent in Romania/Ukraine.25 Arguing for
Ukraine, Professor Quéneudec tried gallantly to refer to the base points
decided by the parties. In his words:
“15. Thirdly, in any maritime delimitation, the course of an equidistance
line must be drawn using the base lines from which the breadth of the
territorial sea of each of the two States is measured. This is the rule laid
down by Article 15 of the 1982 Convention on the Territorial Sea. That
was the rule in Article 6 of the 1958 Convention on the Continental Shelf.
It is also the rule applied by the Court when it has to rule on the course
of a single maritime delimitation line.”26

23
Continental Shelf (Libyan Arab Jamahiriya/Malta), ICJ Reports 1985, 13.
24
Id., at 48.
25
Case concerning the maritime delimitation in the Black Sea (Romania v. Ukraine),
ICJ Reports 2009, 61.
26
CR 2008/33 of 19 September 2008, at 5, available at http://www.ppl.nl/ebooks/
files/ICJ_14787.pdf.
816 jean-pierre cot

The Court did not accept the argument. It confirmed the Libya/Malta
dictum and developed its position:
“117. Equidistance and median lines are to be constructed from the most
appropriate points on the coasts of the two States concerned, with par-
ticular attention being paid to those protuberant coastal points situated
nearest to the area to be delimited. The Court considers elsewhere (see
paragraphs 135–137 below) the extent to which the Court may, when
constructing a single-purpose delimitation line, deviate from the base
points selected by the parties for their territorial seas. When construction
of a provisional equidistance line between adjacent States is called for, the
Court will have in mind considerations relating to both parties’ coast-
lines when choosing its own base points for this purpose. The line thus
adopted is heavily dependent on the physical geography and the most
seaward points of the two coasts.”27
The Court here considered that it could “deviate” from the base points
selected by the parties, the normal practice being the use of such base
points if they allowed the construction of a provisional equidistance
line “relating to both parties’ coastline”.
The Court then examined the base point proposed by Romania for
the Sulina Dyke. The base point had been notified to the United Nations
as part of the Romanian system of straight baselines, as prescribed by
UNCLOS Article 16. The base point was not contested by Ukraine. The
Court nevertheless decided upon another base point, at the landward
end of the dyke and not at its endpoint. It justified its decision as
follows:
“137. The Court observes that the issue of determining the baseline for
the purpose of measuring the breadth of the continental shelf and the
exclusive economic zone and the issue of identifying base points for
drawing an equidistance/median line for the purpose of delimiting the
continental shelf and the exclusive economic zone between adjacent/
opposite States are two different issues.
In the first case, the coastal State, in conformity with the provisions
of UNCLOS (Articles 7, 9, 10, 12 and 15), may determine the rele-
vant base points. It is nevertheless an exercise which has always an
international aspect (see Fisheries (United Kingdom v. Norway), Judgment,
I.C.J. Reports 1951, p. 132). In the second case, the delimitation of the
maritime areas involving two or more States, the Court should not
base itself solely on the choice of base points made by one of those par-
ties. The Court must, when delimiting the continental shelf and exclusive

27
See supra note 26, at 101.
 the dual function of base points817

economic zones, select base points by reference to the physical geography

of the relevant coasts.”28
The Court’s decision is all the more remarkable because each of the
parties had used the seaward end of the dyke as a base point in drawing
an equidistance line. What Ukraine criticized was not Romania’s use of
that base point, but Romania’s failure to use base points on Serpent’s
Island in principle as well as in the particular context of a line meas-
ured from the seaward end of the dyke. In this light, the Court’s deci-
sion thus illustrates the possible duality of base points: even when
unchallenged by both parties, a base point decided upon for delimita-
tion of the territorial sea, even when notified as part of a system of
straight baselines to the United Nations with no objection from the
other party, can be disregarded by an international court or tribunal if
it does not serve the function required, i.e. proper delimitation of the
maritime jurisdictions of States with adjacent or opposite coasts.

B. The Determination of Base Points by International

Courts and Tribunals

The case law of the International Court of Justice and arbitral tribunals,
as developed since Libya/Malta, has clearly distinguished between
the two functions of base points. But that is not the end of the story.
A number of issues still have to be sorted out in the coming years by
international courts and tribunals.

I. Choice of Appropriate Base Points

The issue of choice of base points is a complex one and deserves more
than a general overview. I do not intend to delve deeply into the sub-
stance of the matter here, but rather to pinpoint a few aspects of the
process in relation to the nature of base points and baselines. The func-
tion of the base points commands the choice of the appropriate base
points for the purpose of delimitation between States with adjacent or
opposite coasts. The choice of base points by coastal States for meas-
urement of the territorial sea has direct consequences on the status of
the waters concerned. Areas enclosed within straight baselines are part
of the internal waters of the State concerned (UNCLOS, Article 8), as

28
Id., at 108.
818 jean-pierre cot

are bays (Article 10) or ports (Article 11). The outer limits of the terri-
torial sea (Article 4), of the exclusive economic zone (Article 57) or of
the continental shelf (Article 76, para. 1) are calculated from the base-
lines decided by the coastal State.
Base points chosen for the purpose of delimitation between States
with adjacent or opposite coasts do not have the same effect. They are
chosen to draw a provisional equidistance line. Their function is purely
mathematical. They are independent of the legal status of the maritime
areas concerned. Their choice does not or should not entail any conse-
quence as to the status of these maritime areas.
In choosing these base points, the International Court of Justice
has insisted on the objective and geographical criteria to be followed.
In Romania/Ukraine, it noted:
“118. In keeping with its settled jurisprudence on maritime delimitation,
the first stage of the Court’s approach is to establish the provisional equi-
distance line. At this initial stage of the construction of the provisional
equidistance line the Court is not yet concerned with any relevant cir-
cumstances […] and the line is plotted on strictly geometrical criteria on
the basis of objective data.”29
The principal consideration is that of the general direction of the coast.
The Court noted:
“127. In this stage of the delimitation exercise, the Court will identify the
appropriate points on the parties’ relevant coast or coasts which mark a
significant change in the direction of the coast, in such a way that the
geometrical figure formed by the line connecting all these points reflects
the general direction of the coastlines. The points thus selected on each
coast will have an effect on the provisional equidistance line that takes
due account of the geography.”
In the case, the Court noted that it “will have in mind considerations
relating to both parties’ coastlines when choosing its own base points
for this purpose. The line thus adopted is heavily dependent on the
physical geography and the most seaward points of the two coasts.”30
Geographical features which are not an integral part of the coastline
considered for delimitation are disregarded, as they would have an
excessive influence on the direction of the provisional equidistance
line. That is true of minor features such as small islands or low-tide

29
Id., at 101.
30
Id.
 the dual function of base points819

elevations. It can also be the case for major islands such as the Channel
Islands in the Franco-British arbitration of 1977 or the Island of Djerba
in Tunisia/Libya.
The Court insists on the importance of “those protuberant coastal
points situated nearest to the area to be delimited”.31 It interestingly
applies the concept to the identification of the Ukrainian base point
immediately north of the Sulina Dyke.
“143. The Court deems it appropriate in this first sector to use the south-
eastern tip of Tsyganka Island on the Ukrainian side, which is the coun-
terpart of the landward end of the Sulina dyke on the Romanian side. Its
location is significant, because in this area of adjacency it is the most
prominent point on the Ukrainian coast.
144. In this sector of adjacent coasts, the Court needs also to consider the
relevance of the Ukrainian base point situated on the island of Kubansky
as a base point for use in constructing the provisional equidistance line.
The Court notes that this base point does not produce any effect on the
equidistance line plotted by reference to the base point on Tsyganka
Island on the Ukrainian coast and the base point on the landward end of
the Sulina dyke on the Romanian coast. This base point is therefore to be
regarded as irrelevant for the purposes of the present delimitation.”
The concept of fringe islands has been helpful in the more recent cases.
Islands should be taken into consideration if they form a fringe along
the coastline. If they are a minor, isolated feature, they need not be
chosen as base points for the purpose of delimitation. This was the
rationale for the Court’s decision, in Romania/Ukraine, to disregard
Serpent’s Island as a base point.

II. Delimitation and Entitlement

Base points chosen for the purpose of measuring the breadth of the
territorial sea indicate the extent of the entitlement of the coastal State
to the maritime areas concerned. As far as delimitation is concerned,
they contribute to the definition of the relevant zone and to the degree
of overlap of the claims of the parties.
These base points do not automatically qualify as base points for the
purpose of delimitation between States with adjacent or opposite
coasts. As the Court said in Romania/Ukraine, “The Court considers
elsewhere […] the extent to which the Court may, when constructing a

31
Id.
820 jean-pierre cot

single-purpose delimitation line, deviate from the base points selected

by the Parties for their territorial seas”.32 But it is not explicit about the
extent to which it can deviate from the base points selected by the
parties.
The relationship between entitlement and delimitation is not all that
evident. Doctrine has largely ignored the issue, albeit a central one for
the process of delimitation. Definition of the legal entitlement of the
coastal State to adjacent waters and their extent outwards, towards the
high seas, is one thing. Delimitation between opposing claims between
States with adjacent or opposite coasts is another. Yet the two opera-
tions, distinct as they may be, are interrelated.
The Court addressed the issue in the case of the Continental Shelf
(Libya v. Malta).33 The parties disagreed on the two counts of entitle-
ment and of delimitation. The United Nations Convention on the
Law of the Sea had been signed a few years earlier, but was not bind-
ing as such between the parties. Libya argued in favour of the natu-
ral prolongation: “[t]he natural prolongation of the respective land
territories of the parties into and under the sea is the basis of title to
the areas of continental shelf which appertain to each of them.”
(Submission No. 2) Libya argued the theory of the natural prolonga-
tion of the territory, pointing out the consequences for delimitation
of a rift zone between the two respective continental shelves. Malta
argued for the distance of the respective coasts, as written into the
1982 Convention, and called for a delimitation on the basis of equidis-
tance.34 The nature of the entitlement, natural prolongation or dis-
tance of the coasts, had an evident consequence for the choice of the
method of delimitation.
The Court noted that the parties had distinguished between entitle-
ment and delimitation in their arguments:
“In this context particularly, the Parties have laid some emphasis on a
distinction between the law applicable to the basis of entitlement to areas
of continental shelf – the rules governing the existence, ‘ipso jure and ab
initio’, and the exercise of sovereign rights of the coastal State over areas
of continental shelf situate off its coasts – and the law applicable to the
delimitation of such areas of shelf between neighbouring States.”35

32
Id.
33
See supra note 24.
34
Id., at 31–32.
35
Id., at 30.
 the dual function of base points821

The Court nevertheless added that “[t]he legal basis of that which is to
be delimited, and of entitlement to it, cannot be other than pertinent to
that delimitation”.36
The Court observed that the main bone of contention between the
parties was the legal basis of the entitlement. It examined international
practice and concluded that “the distance criterion must now apply to
the continental shelf as well as to the exclusive economic zone”. It con-
sidered the validity of the entitlements of Libya and Malta on the
continental shelf.
The Court then proceeded to clarify the relationship between enti-
tlement and delimitation:
“61. The Court has little doubt which criterion and method it must
employ at the outset in order to achieve a provisional position in the
present dispute. The criterion is linked with the law relating to a State’s
legal title to the continental shelf. As the Court has found above, the law
applicable to the present dispute, that is, to claims relating to continental
shelves located less than 200 miles from the coasts of the States in ques-
tion, is based not on geological or geomorphological criteria, but on a
criterion of distance from the Coast or, to use the traditional term, on the
principle of adjacency as measured by distance. It therefore seems logical
to the Court that the choice of the criterion and the method which it is to
employ in the first place to arrive at a provisional result should be made
in a manner consistent with the concepts underlying the attribution of
legal title.”37
Delimitation must be made “in a manner consistent” with the entitle-
ment. This consistency concerns the choice of the method of delimita-
tion. It in no way restricts the ability of the Court to choose, for the
purpose of the delimitation, base points which differ from those cho-
sen by the parties for the purpose of the measurement of the outer
limits of their respective territorial seas, i.e. for the purpose of entitle-
ment. The Court is explicit as to the decision not to retain the Island of
Filfla as a base point: “[…] but in any event the baselines as determined
by coastal States are not per se identical with the points chosen on a
coast to make it possible to calculate the area of continental shelf apper-
taining to that State”.38 The base points chosen for two distinct purposes
do not serve the same functions.

36
Id.
37
Id., at 46–47.
38
Id., at 48.
822 jean-pierre cot

The Court examined the issue in the Maritime Delimitation in the

Black Sea case. It considered “[…] the extent to which the Court may,
when constructing a single-purpose delimitation line, deviate from the
base points selected by the Parties for their territorial seas”.39 But it did
not indicate the rationale for such a deviation. The key to the answer
probably lies with the concept of “manner consistent” with the legal
entitlement.
Base points are used by the Court in the process of delimitation in
phase one in order to draw a provisional delimitation line. But they
may also come to play in phase two (relevant circumstances) and in
phase three (overall assessment of the relevant areas). Such was the
situation, at least for phase two, in Romania/Ukraine.
The Court was called upon to calculate the length of the relevant
coasts. It examined the problem of the Gulf of Karkinits’ka. Were the
coastlines of the Gulf to be taken into account for the calculation of
the relevant coasts of Ukraine or not? The Court noted “that the coast,
in order to be considered as relevant for the purpose of the delimita-
tion, must generate projections which overlap with projections from
the coast of the other Party”.40 Such was not the case, as the Northern
and Southern coasts of the Gulf projected one upon the other, but
did not generate a projection on the disputed area. The Court then
decided to ignore those coasts and to draw a closure line between the
two points of entry of the Gulf. It added that the closure line did not
generate any entitlement to the adjacent maritime areas and should
thus not be taken into account in the calculation of the length of the
relevant coasts:
“It is to be noted that the Court has drawn a line at the entrance of
Karkinits’ka Gulf from Cape Priboiny (which is the north-western tip of
Tarkhankuts’ky Peninsula, slightly north of Cape Tarkhankut) to the
point that marks the eastern end of the portion of the Ukrainian north-
ern coast […]. The Court has found it useful to do so with respect to such
a significant feature as Karkinits’ka Gulf, in order to make clear both
what coasts will not be under consideration and what waters will not be
regarded as falling within the relevant area. However, the Court does not
include this line in the calculation of the total length of the Ukrainian
relevant coasts, as the line ‘replaces’ the coasts of Karkinits’ka Gulf which,
again, do not themselves project on the area to be delimited and thus do
not generate any entitlement to the continental shelf and the exclusive

39
See supra note 26, at 101.
40
Id., at 97.
 the dual function of base points823

economic zone in that area. Consequently, the line does not generate any
entitlement.”41
The Court here clearly distinguished between the two functions of base
points and baselines. When used within a delimitation process, a clos-
ing line does not generate any title to adjacent waters and does not
entail any legal consequences other than contributing to the operation
of delimitation. In this respect, the closing line of the Karkinits’ka Gulf
was in no way comparable to the straight baselines drawn by Romania
and Ukraine, as it did not enclose internal waters and was not taken
into account in calculating the length of the relevant Ukrainian coasts.
The way in which the Court addressed the issue of Serpent’s Island is
very much to the point. Both Romania and Ukraine argued at length in
the written and oral pleadings on the issue of the legal qualification of
Serpent’s Island. Romania considered Serpent’s Island to be a rock in
the terms of UNCLOS Article 121, para. 3, devoid of any right to a
continental shelf. It concluded that the island should be disregarded as
a base point for delimitation purposes. Ukraine argued that Serpent’s
Island was a fully fledged island within the meaning of Article 121, as it
did sustain human habitation and an economic life of its own. As it was
entitled to an exclusive economic zone and a continental shelf, it was a
necessary base point for the purpose of delimitation.
The Court refused to qualify Serpent’s Island with respect to
Article 121. It considered such a qualification unnecessary for the pur-
pose of the delimitation under consideration. The Court noted that,
even if Serpent’s Island were considered as an Article 121 para. 2 island,
its exclusive economic zone and continental shelf did not add to
Ukraine’s entitlement as from its continental coast. Whether a fully
fledged island or a rock, Serpent’s Island was a minor feature which, in
the geographical context of that case, did not merit use as a base point
for the purpose of delimitation of the EEZ and continental shelf.
Obviously, if Serpent’s Island had projected the outer limit of the exclu-
sive economic zone and continental shelf further out to sea and
extended Ukraine’s claim against Romania, the situation would have
been different.
The Court’s position on the Sulina Dyke in the same case is not in
the same vein. On one hand, the Court clearly distinguished between
the two functions of base points. Whereas Romania and Ukraine had
both agreed that the seaward end of the dyke, chosen by Romania as a

41
Id.
824 jean-pierre cot

base point for drawing its system of baselines and notified as such to
the United Nations Organization following UNCLOS Article 16,
para. 2, the Court decided that the landward end of the dyke was the
appropriate choice as a base point to draw the provisional equidistance
line. However, the Court was at pains to show that the dyke was not a
harbour work in the sense of UNCLOS Article 11, as it did not form an
integral part of the harbour system. The Court analyzed Article 11 and
looked into the travaux préparatoires, concluding:
“138. As for the specific characteristics of the seaward end of the Sulina
dyke as a relevant base point for constructing the provisional equidis-
tance line, the Court points out that, irrespective of its length, no con-
vincing evidence has been presented that this dyke serves any direct
purpose in port activities. For these reasons, the Court is not satisfied
that the seaward end of the Sulina dyke is a proper base point for the
purposes of the construction of a provisional equidistance line delimit-
ing the continental shelf and the exclusive economic zones.”
Why did the Court make the point on Article 11 when it had not felt it
necessary to clarify the issue of the legal status of Serpent’s Island in
order to take a similar decision, i.e. identification of an appropriate
base point for delimitation purposes? What the Court had noted for
Serpent’s Island as far as entitlement was concerned, i.e. that it did not
extend the limits of the exclusive economic zone or continental shelf
any more than the same entitlement as measured from the continental
coast, was just as true of the seaward end of the dyke. The Court should
have felt just as free to disregard the points chosen by the parties for
measurement of the breadth of the territorial sea in the one case as in
the other. The issue doubtless calls for clarification at some time in the
future.

III. The Issue of the Equitable Solution

The Court takes into account the basic purpose stated in UNCLOS
Arts. 74 and 83: delimitation should be effected “[…] in order to arrive
at an equitable solution”. But the Court is at pains to distinguish the
three phases in maritime delimitation: 1) drawing of a provisional
equidistance line; 2) adjustment of the line to take into account special
circumstances; 3) an overall assessment of the conformity of the result-
ing line with the standard of an equitable solution. And it is adamant
on the issue: consideration of the final result, i.e. an equitable solution,
is not to play a role in phase 1 or construction of the provisional equi-
distance line, but in phases 2 and 3.
 the dual function of base points825

The Court was explicit on the issue in Qatar/Bahrein, as well as in

Romania/Ukraine. In the latter case, the Court said:
“118. In keeping with its settled jurisprudence on maritime delimitation,
the first stage of the Court’s approach is to establish the provisional equi-
distance line. At this initial stage of the construction of the provisional
equidistance line the Court is not yet concerned with any relevant cir-
cumstances that may obtain and the line is plotted on strictly geometrical
criteria on the basis of objective data.”42
The problem is that there are no “strictly geometrical criteria” and that
“objective data” do not provide a single answer. As Prosper Weil noted
in 1992, there is an inevitable contradiction between the two axiomatic
truths of maritime delimitation: delimitation must respect geography;
delimitation must be equitable.43 The judge must take into account
those base points and baselines which generate the maritime rights of
the coastal State. He cannot ignore entitlement completely. But he is
also bound to correct geography, nolens volens, to arrive at an equitable
result.
The Court does take the contradiction into account within its three
step methodology. But the answer is not entirely convincing. Judges
Bedjaoui, Koroma and Ranjeva made the point in their dissenting
opinion in Qatar/Bahrein:
“192. […] It was necessary for the Court to recall that the choice of base
points must also be equitable, as must be the method used and the result
sought. ‘[T]he equitableness of an equidistance line depends on whether
the precaution is taken of eliminating the disproportionate effect of cer-
tain islets, rocks and minor coastal projections.’ This requirement also
reflects the provisional character of the equidistance line, since allowance
for special circumstances merely implies a simple adjustment of the line
just drawn on a provisional basis. Inequitable base points will affect the
course of the true median line, and hence the equitable nature of the
solution adopted.”44
Referring to the case at hand, the dissenting judges added:
“193. […] The test of equitableness used to adjust the single line was
applied by reference to base points which had not first been examined to
ensure that their choice was equitable. In the event, the final choice of

42
Id., at 101.
43
Weil (note 4), at 299.
44
Joint dissenting opinion of Judges Bedjaoui, Ranjeva and Koroma, ICJ Reports
2001, 145, 206.
826 jean-pierre cot

base points resulted in an equidistance line being located too far to the
west, because of the exaggerated effect accorded to tiny, unimportant fea-
tures. The drawing of the provisional equidistance line on the basis of the
points chosen here, namely what are called ‘maritime features’ or ‘les for-
mations maritimes’, had the effect of distorting the general direction of
the coastline.”45
The truth of the matter is that the Court does take into account certain
considerations beyond strictly “geometrical criteria” when choosing
base points for construction of the provisional equidistance line in
phase 1. Elimination of minor features or of features implying a consid-
erable distortion of the equidistance line is not a “geometrical” opera-
tion. It calls for judgement, i.e. a degree of discretion in the decision so
taken. One well understands the Court’s wish to eliminate as far as pos-
sible the elements of uncertainty which tainted case law in the past in
the name of legal security. A certain flexibility is unavoidable, yet dif-
ficult to admit.
The problem is compounded by the limits of “adjustment” of the
provisional equidistance line in phase 2. If one gets the base points
wrong, one can correct only to a certain degree. Whatever the opinion
one may have on the merits of the Court’s decision in Qatar/Bahrein, a
major correction of the provisional equidistance line just became
impossible once the base points were decided. As the Court has said, it
is not in the business of redesigning geography. To adjust is to alter
something slightly, not to change the course of the provisional line
substantially.
The argument may well be rhetorical. The issue is one of legitima-
tion. The judicial decision must appear uncontroversial whatever the
real process. Given a Court of 15 or 21 judges, no one can really dictate
the ways and means by which the decision is arrived at. All judges have
the full gamut of arguments before them and do not neatly organize
them when taking a personal position. They necessarily take into
account considerations relating to an equitable solution as these con-
siderations have been argued by the parties. Like it or not, such consid-
erations are bound to permeate the process of decision-making from
beginning to end.
Presentation of the decision is quite another matter. The judicial
decision is not the reflection of the internal decision-making process,
but the reasoned exposition of the legal basis for such decision.

45
Id., at 207.
 the dual function of base points827

The issue reminds one of the argument on the role of travaux pré-
paratoires in the interpretation of treaties. As early as 1935, Professor
Hersch Lauterpacht noted that the practice of the Court had resulted in
full vindication of the use of preparatory work in the interpretation of
treaties, though the language used showed a desire not to commit itself
to a particular school of thought.46 Eighty years later, and despite the
precisions of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, all inter-
national courts and tribunals look closely at the travaux préparatoires
before deciding that the text in question is clear and that it is not neces-
sary to look into the travaux préparatoires.
In the same way, international courts and tribunals asked to delimit
maritime areas between States with adjacent or opposite coasts will
look closely at all the material put forward by both parties. The search
for an equitable solution is an inevitable part of that scrutiny and will
be in the mindset of the members of those courts and tribunals.
Drafting the decision is quite a different issue. At that later stage, if a
rhetorical device can help the judgment be accepted and implemented,
why not resort to it?

46
H. Lauterpacht, Some Observations on Preparatory Work in the Interpretation of
Treaties, 48 Harvard Law Review 549 (1935).
Divided We Stand: The Legal Issues Concerning the
International Whaling Commission

Malgosia Fitzmaurice

A. Introduction

The essay on the important but complicated issue of whaling appears to

be an appropriate tribute to Professor Wolfrum who has greatly con-
tributed to further development of knowledge on marine biodiversity,
indigenous peoples and general problems of international law. The
subject-matter of whaling embraces all of these.
The subject–matter of the present essay are complicated questions
surrounding the legal system and functioning of the International
Whaling Commission (hereinafter the “IWC” or the “Commission”).
The problems relating to whales and whaling have proved to be a fertile
ground for very strong reactions, frequently emotional. It can be said
that no other species generated so much discussion (including violent
confrontations between pro-whaling and anti-whaling groups).1
The International Whaling Commission is an example of divisive
interests of States and, to a certain extent, it is a forum characterised by
the lack of spirit of co-operation. In fact, almost all aspects of the func-
tioning of the IWC cause disagreement and criticism. Certain issues
such as commercial whaling, indigenous whaling, scientific whaling,
and a moratorium on whaling resulted in contentious issues within the
Commission, to which as yet, no solution has been found.2 The author
of the present essay will endeavour to analyse these issues.

1
There have been numerous incidents of clashes between anti-whalers and Japanese
boats. For example in January 2010 according to news agencies “anti-whaling activists
accused Japanese whalers of ramming and sinking a high-tech protest boat in the frigid
Southern Ocean […], but Japan said that its ship could not avoid the collision”.
Available at www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE60509820100106.
2
The problems concerning whaling and the protection of whales have been a sub-
ject of many excellent publications, in particular the following publications which take
a comprehensive approach to these issues: A. Gillespie, Whaling Diplomacy: Defining
the Issues in International Environmental Law (2005); G. J. Nagtzaam, The International
Whaling Commission and the Elusive Great white Whale of Preservationism, available
at http://works.bepress.com/gerry_nagtzaam/2/; id., The Making of International
830 malgosia fitzmaurice

B. Setting the Scene: Introduction to the 1946 International

Convention for the Regulation of Whaling and the
Historical Overview

The history of whale hunting is quite daunting. The early twentieth

century was marked by the development of the whaling industry and
the ensuing destruction of whale stocks around the world.
Such state of affairs was due to the development of technology (steam
engines, exploding harpoon guns, use of factory ship) which provided
more effective ways of hunting whales.3 The disastrous state of whale
stocks prompted States to conclude the first Convention for the
Regulation of Whaling in 1931 in Geneva (hereinafter the “Geneva
Convention”).4 The Geneva Convention was a fairly progressive agree-
ment, which included territorial waters (Article 1); introduced licens-
ing of whaling vessels (Article 8); included special provisions for
aboriginal whaling, allowing them to whale but only if traditional
methods of whaling were used. However, the Convention was a failure
as main players did not become parties to it: the USSR, Japan, and
Germany.5 A contemporary view is that this Convention served the
interests of the whaling industry in the first place and not whales as
such.6 In 1937 the International Agreement for the Regulation of
Whaling was concluded between Argentina, Irish Free State, New
Zealand, South Africa, the United States, and the United Kingdom

Environmental Treaties (2009). See also: M. C. Maffei, The International Convention

for the Regulation of Whaling, 12 International Journal of Marine and Coastal Law 287
(1997); P. Birnie, Are Twentieth-Century Marine Conservation Conventions Adaptable
to Twenty First Century Goals and Principles?: Part II, 12 International Journal of
Marine and Coastal Law 488, at 499–505 (1997); S. Freeland/J. Drysdale, Co-Operation
or Chaos?–Article 65 of United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea and the
Future of the International Whaling Commission, 2 Macquarie Journal of Inter­
national and Comparative Environmental Law 1 (2005); W. C. Burns, The International
Whaling Commission and the Regulation of the Consumptive and Non-Consumptive
Uses of Small Cetaceans: The Critical Agenda for the 1990s, 13 Wisconsin International
Law Journal 105 (1994); A. M. Ruffle, Resurrecting the International Whaling
Commission: Suggestions to Strengthen the Conservation Effort, 27 Brooklyn Journal
of International Law 639 (2002).
3
 Ruffle (note 2), at 645.
4
Convention for the Regulation of Whaling, 24 September 1931, LNTS Vol. 155 No.
3586, signed by 26 States.
5
 Nagtzaam (note 2), at 162 (The Making of International Environmental Treaties).
6
 A. D’Amato/S. Chopra, Whales: Their Emerging Right to Life, 85 American
Journal of International Law 21, at 31 (1991).
 divided we stand831

(hereinafter the “London Agreement”).7 This was a global agreement

which adopted a comprehensive approach to whaling. It also covered
shore-based operations. It made illegal hunting for grey and rights
whales, imposed limitations on whaling, and defined hunting periods
in order to protect calves and immature whales. However, some main
whaling States (the USSR, Germany, Japan, and Chile), as was the case
with the Geneva Convention, refused to become Parties to the London
Agreement.8 The London Agreement was supplemented by the 1938
Protocol which banned the taking of humpback whales for two years
except in the area south of 40 degrees south latitude, where a one year
ban was introduced.9 However, as Nagtzaam stated “[t]he problem
remained that despite these added paper protections, the exploitation
of whales in the 1930s continued virtually unchecked”.10 Exploitation of
whales decreased during the war due to the limited number of facto-
ries. However, after the Second World War it increased responding to
the demand for edible fat.11 The dwindling whale stocks lead to the
conclusion of the 1946 International Convention for the Regulation of
Whaling (hereinafter the “ICRW” or the “Whaling Convention”).12 The
Preamble to the Convention adopted a progressive language of pre-
serving whale stocks for future generations and conducting whale fish-
eries in a sustainable manner. The main objectives of the Convention
were expressed in the Preamble as follows: “[to] establish a system of
international regulation for the whale fisheries to ensure proper and
effective conservation and development of whale stocks” and “to pro-
vide for the proper conservation of whale stocks and thus make possi-
ble the orderly development of the whaling industry”. Thus, the
Whaling Convention’s two objectives, i.e. the conservation of whale
stocks and the “orderly” development of the whaling industry have

7
 International Agreement for the Regulation of Whaling, 8 June 1937, LNTS
Vol. 190 No. 4406. See on both the Geneva Convention and the London Agreement,
T. Kuokkanen, International Law and the Environment–Variations on a Theme, at
121–122 (2002).
8
 Nagtzaam (note 2), at 163 (The Making of International Environmental Treaties).
9
The protection of humpbacks was improved to a certain degree by the amend-
ment to the Protocol in 1939.
10
 Nagtzaam (note 2), at 164 (The Making of International Environmental Treaties).
11
 Id., at 165 and S. Oberthür, The International Convention for the Regulation of
Whaling: From Over-Exploitation to Total Prohibition, in: H. O. Bergesen/
G. Parmann/Ø. B. Thommessen (eds.), Yearbook of International Cooperation on
Environment and Development 1998–99, 29, at 31 (1998).
12
2 December 1946, UNTS Vol. 161 No. 2124. Entered into force in 1948.
832 malgosia fitzmaurice

been quite challenging to reconcile.13 The use of the expression “whale

fisheries” indicated the profound misunderstanding of the character of
whaling which resulted in the groundless and damaging assumption
that whales share characteristics with fish and mature quickly, thus can
be extensively harvested.14 It is argued that “[i]n treating whaling like
any other fishery agreements, the drafters of the agreement placed too
great an emphasis on short-term economic considerations in overcom-
ing shortage of whale fats and oils at the expense of legitimate scientific
concerns about the effects of over-exploitation on existing stocks”.15
Originally, there were fifteen signatory States to the Whaling
Convention but it is open to all States.16 A so-called Schedule was
appended to the Whaling Convention which, inter alia, listed the types
of great whales, the method of taking, and the operation of factories.
The Schedule has been amended periodically.17
The ICRW established a body to regulate whaling, the International
Whaling Commission. Certain normative lacunae in the Schedule have
allowed States to abuse the Whaling Convention (see below on this
subject). For example, although the Schedule banned the taking of
grey, humpback and right whales in certain areas, it allowed aboriginal
whaling, “a loophole to be exploited later by many whaling nations”.18
However, as it was stated “[…] this restriction, combined with seasonal
time limits and quotas, was unsuccessful in stopping the ongoing
exploitation of whales, despite the emphasis in limited conservationist
aims in the ICRW”.19 The whaling operation increased and in the sea-
son 1950–1951 a record number of whales were taken: 55.795.20 Until
the 1960s the Whaling Commission was dominated by the Whaling
nations whose main task was to ensure the most favourable quota

13
 G. Rose/G. Paleokrassis, Compliance with International Environmental
Obligations: A Case Study of the International Whaling Commission, in: J. Cameron/
J. Werksman/P. Roderick (eds.), Improving Compliance with International Environ­
mental Law, 147, at 147 (1996).
14
 Nagtzaam (note 2), at 167 (The Making of International Environmental Treaties).
15
 Id.
16
 Argentina, the USSR, Australia, Brazil, Canada, Chile, Denmark, France, the
Netherlands, New Zealand, Norway, Peru, the United States of America, the United
Kingdom, South Africa.
17
The amendment to the ICRW requires the agreement of all member States. The
amendment to the Schedule Regulation requires three-quarters majority (Article V).
18
 Nagtzaam (note 2), at 169 (The Making of International Environmental Treaties).
19
 Id.
20
 Id., at 171.
 divided we stand833

allocations, in other words the “wasted years” from the point of view of
ecological considerations.21 The years leading to the imposition of the
moratorium on whaling are characterised by the following: the grow-
ing influence of Environmental Non-Governmental Organisations
(ENGOs) in the Whaling Commission, the change of the whaling pol-
icy by some States (such as the United States) in favour of preserving
whales and the conflict within the Whaling Commission between the
preservationists and conservationists.22 The marked change in the
whaling policy was discernible at the 1972 Stockholm Conference on
the Human Environment, where it was recommended that a ten-year
moratorium be adopted in order to allow stocks to recuperate.23 Under
the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Fauna
and Flora (hereinafter the “CITES”), many species of whales were iden-
tified as being in danger of extinction. All these events resulted in the
imposing of the 1982 Moratorium on Whaling, which was a victory for
preservationists.
Thus, the amended Paragraph 10 of the Schedule read as follows:
“Notwithstanding the other provisions of paragraph 10, catch limits for
the killing for commercial purposes of whales from all stocks for 1986
coastal and the 1985/86 pelagic seasons and thereafter will be zero. This
provision will be kept under review, based upon the best scientific
advice, and by 1990 at the latest the Commission will undertake a com-
prehensive assessment of the effects of these decisions on whale stocks
and consider modification of this provision and the establishment of
other catch limits” (Paragraph 10 (e), IWC Schedule, February 1983).24
The Moratorium made an exception regarding the aboriginal sub-
sistence whaling (including bowhead species). Several States (Norway,
and initially Japan) lodged objections to this ruling and one of the main
whaling nations, Canada, left the Convention.
The International Whaling Commission is the main body of the
Convention. According to the Schedule, the main duty of the IWC is
keeping under review and revising, as necessary, the measures laid

21
D’Amato/Chopra (note 6), at 34.
22
 Nagtzaam (note 2), at 177–188 (The Making of International Environmental
Treaties).
23
Stockholm Action Plan, Recommendation 33, UN Doc. A/CONF.49/14/Rev.1,
11 ILM 1416 (1972).
24
 Annual Report of the International Whaling Commission 33, at 40 (1983);
Chairman’s Report of the Thirty-Fifth Annual Meeting, Appendix 2.
834 malgosia fitzmaurice

down in the Schedule to the Convention which govern the conduct of

whaling throughout the world. These measures, inter alia, provide for
the complete protection of certain species; designate specified areas as
whale sanctuaries; set limits on the numbers and size of whales which
may be taken; prescribe open and closed seasons and areas for whaling;
and prohibit the capture of suckling calves and female whales accom-
panied by calves. The Whaling Commission as well as coordinates the
compilation of catch reports and other statistical and biological records.
Another task of the IWC is encouraging, co-ordinating and funding
whale research, publishing the results of scientific research and pro-
moting studies into related matters such as the humaneness of the kill-
ing operations.25 The current membership of the IWC is 88 States (on
the States engaged in whaling, see below).26

C. The International Whaling Commission: the Weaknesses

and Divisive Issues

The IWC has a number of weaknesses which either derive from the
formulation of the Whaling Convention itself or are a result of the
developments in this body and the resulting great disparity in attitudes
of States towards the hunting of whales and their protection. In the
further part of this essay these divisive issues will be addressed.

I. The Weaknesses and Lacunae of the International Whaling

Commission
One of the main weaknesses of the Convention is the manner in which
it adopts its decisions, the so-called “opting-out” (or “tacit acceptance”)
system. Such a system of decision-making is quite common in interna-
tional organizations. For example, international bodies such as inter-
national fisheries commissions are based on this mechanism of
decision-making. It may be noted as well that the many Conventions
concluded under the auspices of the International Maritime Organi­
sation also employ this system for amending their provisions. The
gist of such a system is the taking of a decision by an international

 Available at www.iwcoffice.org/commission/iwcmain.htm.
25

 Information available at www.iwcoffice.org/commission/members.htm.

26
 divided we stand835

organization which is subsequently binding on a State, unless it “opts–

out”. Hence it is named a “tacit acceptance” and is contrasted with the
“opting–in” procedure in which a State has to expressly affirm its con-
sent to be bound.
The opting-out procedure in the IWC is set out in Article V para. 3
of the Convention.27 The legal nature of this mechanism was a subject
of many scholarly debates, in particular whether it is an international
agreement in a simplified form or a decision of an international organi-
zation, which strengthens the role of international bodies (as it dis-
penses with a requirement of an express consent to be bound by a
State), especially if a decision is adopted on the basis of majority
voting.28
However, this system under the Whaling Commission was subject
to much criticism and was assessed as rendering the whole Commission
a toothless and ineffective body. In the first decades of the functioning
of the Commission, objections were so frequent that the IWC became
a very inefficient body. Opting-out systems can provide “rogue” States
with an opportunity of abusing the system and evading international
obligations.29 A contrasting view was expressed, however, that without
this mechanism the Convention would probably have never been
signed. In addition, without such a right to opt- out, a State would have
been able to withdraw from the Convention and thus not be bound by

27
“Each of such amendments shall become effective with respect to the Contracting
Governments ninety days following notification of the amendment by the Commission
to each of the Contracting Governments except that (a) if any Government presents to
the Commission objection to any amendment prior to the expiration of this ninety-day
period, the amendment shall not become effective with respect to any of the
Governments for an additional ninety days; (b) thereupon, any other Contracting
Government may present objection to the amendment at any time prior to the expira-
tion of the additional ninety-day period, or before the expiration of thirty days from
the date of receipt of the last objection received during such additional ninety-day
period, whichever date shall be the later; and (c) thereafter, the amendment shall
become effective with respect to all Contracting Governments which have not pre-
sented objection but shall not become effective with respect to any Government which
has so objected until such date as the objection is withdrawn. The Commission shall
notify each Contracting Government immediately upon receipt of each objection and
withdrawal and each Contracting Government shall acknowledge receipt of all notifi-
cations of amendments, objections, and withdrawals.”
28
 On the legal nature of the “opting-out” system see: M. Fitzmaurice, Consent to Be
Bound–Anything New under the Sun?, 74 Nordic Journal of International Law 483
(2005).
29
 Nagtzaam (note 2), at 168 (The Making of International Environmental Treaties).
836 malgosia fitzmaurice

the Convention and consequently the decisions of the Whaling

Commission.30
The other unresolved question is the dispute within the IWC con-
cerning its jurisdiction over small cetaceans.31 The population of ceta-
ceans is divided into two groups: large and small (or toothed and
baleen). The main issue at hand (briefly speaking)
“is that the 1946 Convention does not define a ‘whale’, although a list of
names in a number of languages of a dozen whales was annexed to the
Final Act of the Convention. Some governments take the view that the
IWC has the legal competence to regulate catches only of these named
great whales. Others believe that all cetaceans, including the smaller dol-
phins and porpoises, also fall within IWC jurisdiction. It is agreed that
the Scientific Committee can study and provide advice on the small ceta-
ceans. As part of this programme, the Scientific Committee has investi-
gated many species and carried out major reviews of significant directed
and incidental catches of small cetaceans, and the mortality of cetaceans
in passive fishing nets and traps.”32
In intervening years the ongoing debate in the IWC on what type of
cetaceans was under its mandate had become more of a political issue
than one based on a biological definition. As Gillespie phrased it:
“[w]ithin the broader debate, the answer whether a species is ‘small’ or
not, and the interlinking question of whether this grants the IWC juris-
diction over them, will often depend on which side of the jurisdictional
debate the protagonists falls”.33 The 32nd meeting of the IWC debated
the issue of the jurisdiction of the IWC over small cetaceans. Some
States remained adamant that the initial lack of their inclusion in the
Annex to the Schedule should place them outside the IWC jurisdic-
tion, unless all members of the Commission by unanimous agreement
would rule otherwise. Other States, however, adopted the view that the
“creeping jurisdiction” of the Whaling Commission was acceptable.
The ongoing contentious debates on this issue resulted for some peri-
ods of time in the exclusion of the transmission of the information on
small cetaceans submitted by States to the Whaling Commission.34

30
 Available at www.iwcoffice.org/commission/iwcmain.htm.
31
See on this subject: Gillespie (note 2), at 277; id., Small Cetaceans, International
Law and the International Whaling Commission, 2 Melbourne Journal of International
Law 257, at 257–300 (2001); M. Fitzmaurice, So Much Law, So Little Protection!
A Case-Study of the Protection of the Narwhal, in: G. Alfredsson/T. Koivurova/
D. Leary (eds.), Yearbook of Polar Law, Volume 1, 22, at 28–32 (2009).
32
 Available at www.iwcoffice.org/conservation/smallcetacean.htm.
33
 Gillespie (note 2), at 278.
34
Fitzmaurice (note 31), at 30.
 divided we stand837

Another issue was the mandate of the IWC over marine zones under
the States’ jurisdiction. Medium and small cetaceans are of a highly
coastal nature. Many States objected to the jurisdiction of the IWC in
these zones as ultra vires. The additional complication was the various
degree of differentiation of the jurisdiction of States in different zones
(such as the territorial sea and the Exclusive Economic Zone). The
ICRW states in Article 1 para. 2 that it applies to all waters. However,
the new issue arose how this Article corresponded to the relevant
Articles of the 1982 United Nations Law of the Sea Convention (here-
inafter the “UNCLOS”), in particular Articles 311 para. 2 (Relation to
other conventions and international agreements),35 61 para. 2 (Stocks
occurring within the exclusive economic zones of two or more coastal
States or both within the exclusive economic zone and in an area
beyond and adjacent to it),36 64 para. 1 (Highly migratory species),37
and 65 (Marine Mammals),38 which refer to the Exclusive Economic
Zone. Views were expressed that Articles of the UNCLOS trump the
regime of the ICRW. Gillespie poses two questions regarding the IWC
and the UNCLOS: do signatories agree to cede their own sovereignty
to the IWC on the issue of whaling and is the ICRW compatible with
the UNCLOS?39 Further questions arose in relation to the leading role
of the IWC regarding small cetaceans. Canada, although not a member

35
“This Convention shall not alter the rights and obligations of States Parties which
arise from other agreements compatible with this Convention and which do not affect
the enjoyment by other States Parties of their rights or the performance of their obliga-
tions under this Convention.”
36
“The coastal State, taking into account the best scientific evidence available to it,
shall ensure through proper conservation and management measures that the mainte-
nance of the living resources in the exclusive economic zone is not endangered by
over-exploitation. As appropriate, the coastal State and competent international organ-
izations, whether subregional, regional or global, shall cooperate to this end.”
37
“The coastal State and other States whose nationals fish in the region for the
highly migratory species listed in Annex I shall cooperate directly or through appro-
priate international organizations with a view to ensuring conservation and promoting
the objective of optimum utilization of such species throughout the region, both within
and beyond the exclusive economic zone. In regions for which no appropriate interna-
tional organization exists, the coastal State and other States whose nationals harvest
these species in the region shall cooperate to establish such an organization and par-
ticipate in its work.”
38
“Nothing in this Part restricts the right of a coastal State or the competence of an
international organization, as appropriate, to prohibit, limit or regulate the exploitation
of marine mammals more strictly than provided for in this Part. States shall cooperate
with a view to the conservation of marine mammals and in the case of cetaceans shall
in particular work through the appropriate international organizations for their con-
servation, management and study.”
39
 Gillespie (note 2), at 292.
838 malgosia fitzmaurice

of the Whaling Commission, argued that the wording of the relevant

Articles of the UNCLOS mentioned “competent international organi-
sations” (in plural) thus it also included other whaling bodes not exclu-
sively the IWC. Gillespie is of the view that the role of the IWC in
relation to whales is reiterated by section 17 of Agenda 21 which
expressly refers to this body as competent in relation to great whales as
well as other cetaceans.
The issue of the competence of the IWC regarding small cetaceans
has not been satisfactorily resolved, however, the IWC acknowledges
the need for further international co-operation to conserve and rebuild
depleted stocks of these cetaceans. In order to do so it has encouraged
countries to seek scientific advice on small cetaceans from the IWC
and invited IWC member States to submit technical or financial assis-
tance to countries with threatened species. The IWC has also estab-
lished a voluntary fund to assist participation by developing countries
in these matters.
Each year the Scientific Committee identifies priority species/
regions for consideration by a review. It focuses on: distribution, stock
structure, abundance, seasonal movements, life history, ecology and
directed and incidental takes. Reviews conducted in recent years have
considered the status of monodontid whales (white whales and nar-
whals), freshwater cetaceans (Irrawaddy dolphin, tucuxi, boto, Indus
river dolphin, Ganges river dolphin, finless porpoise and baiji), Dall’s
porpoise, humpback dolphins and small cetaceans of the Baltic Sea.40

II. The Moratorium on Whaling

As stated above, after the Stockholm Conference on the Human
Environment, prompted by ENGOs, proposals were submitted to
introduce a global moratorium on whaling. This idea was also sup-
ported by the US and Australia. The arguments were based not only on
biological considerations but also on ethical grounds, emphasizing
the special character of these species, such as their intelligence.41
Initially, it was agreed that the moratorium would cover certain species

40
 Available at www.iwcoffice.org/conservation/smallcetacean.htm. See also
A.W. Harris, The Best Scientific Evidence Available: The Whaling Moratorium and
Divergent Interpretations of Science, 29 William and Mary Environmental Law and
Policy Review 375 (2005).
41
D’Amato/Chopra (note 6), at 42; Nagtzaam (note 2), at 188 (The Making of
International Environmental Treaties).
 divided we stand839

in commercial whaling (excluding mink whales), with land stations

allowed to conduct whaling. The idea of the global moratorium in the
early 1980s was opposed by the whaling industry which favoured the
conservationist approach. There was disagreement within the IWC as
to the extent of the Moratorium and three main proposals were tabled:
a global moratorium; a moratorium on commercial whaling; and the
moratorium on hunting of sperm whales.42 The main issue was to rec-
oncile the conflicting approaches of conservationists and preservation-
ists. States and the environmental non-governmental organisations
supported firmly preservationist approach (i.e. banning of all whaling).
The whaling industry represented the view that whales were the har-
vestable resource subject to conservation.43 In very broad brushstrokes
the difference between these two approaches is that the aim of conser-
vation is to use the environment infrequently and the aim preservation
is to keep and safeguard what is already there.
However, the structure of the Whaling Commission was changing
and some members were non-whaling nations that had never had any
whaling industry. At the 1982 Meeting of the IWC in Brighton various
States represented different views concerning the ban on aboriginal
whaling (Japan was against abolishing this type of whaling); Norway,
Iceland and the Republic of Korea opposed the ban on scientific
grounds. A group of States supported the moratorium but expressed
concern regarding the encroachment on sovereign rights of coastal
States within their 200 nautical mile Exclusive Economic Zone. Finally,
the amendment was passed (see above) by 25 votes to seven, with five
abstentions. The enacted Moratorium on commercial whaling con-
cerned all whale species and was imposed initially for five years, to be
reviewed in 1990.44 As Nagtzaam explains there were many reasons
why commercial whaling was banned. There were economic reasons,
i.e. the fact that whaling had already become a non-profitable activity;
the threats of the US Government to impose sanctions under the Pelly
Act also played an important role. However, non-economic factors also
have to be taken into consideration. First of all the same author notes
that many States were concerned about the dwindling number of
whales and advanced the view that whales were not managed in a sat-
isfactory manner. Further, in many States whaling became an ethical

42
 Id., at 186.
43
 Id., at 189.
44
 Id., at 191.
840 malgosia fitzmaurice

issue, having accepted that whales had an intrinsic right to life.

Nagtzaam states that
“[t]his altered their identity within global society. For these states and
most of the ENGOs, whaling was a barbaric practice and the taking even
of one whole was an anathema. These states have been at the forefront of
strengthening commercial moratorium in the hopes of stopping the tak-
ing of any whales. By voting for the moratorium, the preservationist
states internalised a new moral reality, played out on the global stage of
the IWC, that killing whales was wrong and was to be opposed.”45
After much discussion the following States opted -out from the mora-
torium: Norway, Japan and the USSR.46 Subsequently, Japan and the
USSR decided to stop commercial whaling.

III. The Reservation of Iceland: Certain Legal Issues

The reservation of Iceland to the ICRW is yet another contentious issue
concerning the Whaling Convention and the functioning of the IWC.
It also concerns the general issues of the law of treaties, i.e. the law of
reservations to treaties. However, due to the confines of this article the
legal issues of reservations will only be discussed in so far as they relate
to the problem at hand. The theoretical background of the Icelandic
reservation can be found elsewhere.47 First of all it has to be observed
that the ICRW does not contain any provision on reservations, there-
fore Article 19 of the 1969 of the Vienna Convention on the Law of
Treaties applies. Iceland, unlike Norway, did not opt-out from the
Moratorium on commercial whaling imposed in 1982 but it started
controversial scientific whaling (see below). Dissatisfied with the con-
tinuation of the moratorium, Iceland left the Convention and observed
that the IWC was no longer a proper forum for the management of
whales (in 1990 the IWC decided to continue the moratorium).48
One of the results of the departure of Iceland from the IWC was
the establishment in 1992 of the North Atlantic Marine Mam
mal Commission (hereinafter the “NAMMCO”), which is a closed

45
 Id., at 193.
46
P. Davies, Legality of Norwegian Commercial Whaling under the Whaling
Convention and its Compatibility with European Community Law, 43 International
and Comparative Law Quarterly 270 (1994).
47
See on this subject, Gillespie (note 2), at 386–409; id., Iceland’s Reservation at the
International Whaling Commission, 14 European Journal of International Law 977
(2003).
48
 Gillespie (note 2), at 387.
 divided we stand841

membership body: Norway, Iceland, Greenland and the Faroe Islands.

In 2001 and 2002 Iceland attempted to rejoin the Convention with res-
ervations, which caused a heated debate and opposition in the IWC.
Instruments of adherence were deposited on 8 June 2001,49 10 May
2002, and 10 October 2002. All three instruments stated that Iceland
“adheres to the aforesaid Convention and Protocol with a reservation
to paragraph 10(e) of the Schedule attached to the Convention”.
The reservation contained in the instrument of adherence of
10 October 2002 was somewhat different in that it included a time-
limit before which commercial whaling would not resume.50 At the
53rd Annual Meeting, London, July 2001, Iceland’s status was deter-
mined resulting from the following Chair’s rulings: 1. the Commission
has the competence to determine the legal status of Iceland’s reserva-
tion;51 2. the Commission does not accept Iceland’s reservation regard-
ing paragraph 10(e) of the Schedule;52 3. Iceland is invited to assist as
an observer. Interestingly, Iceland had been treated as a member
(i.e. could vote) until after the vote on the third ruling, after which it
was treated as an observer.53 At the 54th Annual Meeting, Shimonoseki,
May 2002, the Chair observed that since the new instrument of adher-
ence contained the same reservation as the previous year, the status of
Iceland’s membership was under the legal regime of last year’s deci-
sions, unless and until the Commission decided otherwise. In the end

49
“Notwithstanding the aforementioned reservation, the Government of Iceland
will not authorise whaling for commercial purposes by Icelandic vessels while progress
is being made in negotiations within the IWC on the RMS. This does not apply, how-
ever, in case of the so-called moratorium on whaling for commercial purposes, con-
tained in paragraph 10(e) of the Schedule not being lifted within a reasonable time
after the completion of the RMS. Under no circumstances will whaling for commercial
purposes be authorised without a sound scientific basis and an effective management
and enforcement scheme” (the same reservation was deposited in 2002), available at
http://iwcoffice.org/_documents/_iceland.htm.
50
“Notwithstanding this, the Government of Iceland will not authorise whaling for
commercial purposes by Icelandic vessels before 2006 and, thereafter, will not author-
ise such whaling while progress is being made in negotiations within the IWC on the
RMS. This does not apply, however, in case of the so-called moratorium on whaling for
commercial purposes, contained in paragraph 10(e) of the Schedule not being lifted
within a reasonable time after the completion of the RMS. Under no circumstances will
whaling for commercial purposes be authorized without a sound scientific basis and an
effective management and enforcement scheme”, available at http://iwcoffice.org/
_documents/_iceland.htm.
51
19 votes in favour, 18 against, one abstention.
52
19 votes in support, none against, 3 abstentions, 16 countries did not participate.
53
18 votes in support, 16 against, 3 abstentions, all information available at http://
iwcoffice.org/_documents/_iceland.htm.
842 malgosia fitzmaurice

the Chair ruled that the status of Iceland was as agreed last year. His
ruling was successful54 and Iceland was not allowed to vote.
At the 5th Special Meeting, Cambridge, October 2002, the Chair
took the view that since the reservation attached to Iceland’s most
recent instrument of adherence was different; the Commission had
faced a new instrument of adherence. Therefore Iceland was allowed to
vote. Due to a disagreement over the acceptability of Iceland’s reserva-
tion, according to the Chair’s ruling, the procedure adopted in London
was followed at this meeting, i.e. to review first the issue of the compe-
tence of the Commission to determine the legal status of Iceland’s res-
ervation (Chair’s ruling was unsuccessfully challenged).55
Following the proposal of the United Kingdom, subsequently the
same procedure was followed as at 2002 meeting (upholding the deci-
sion taken in London). The Chair ruled that this proposal should
be voted on immediately, notwithstanding the challenge, voting up
held it.56 Voting was preceded by the debate on whether Iceland should
be allowed to vote. According to the Chair, Iceland should be allowed
to participate. This was upheld when put to a vote (despite a prior chal-
lenge).57 The Chair’s ruling was that the decisions that the IWC had the
competence to determine the legal status of Iceland’s reservation, that
it did not accept Iceland’s reservation and that Iceland be invited to
assist as an observer was defeated.58 Hence Iceland was accepted as a
member of the Commission.
The following countries subsequently formally objected to Iceland’s
reservation by notifying the depository government (USA): Argentina,
Australia, Brazil, Chile, Finland, France, Germany, Monaco,
Netherlands, Peru, Portugal, San Marino, Spain, Sweden, UK, and
USA. Italy, Mexico and New Zealand also objected to the reservation
and noted that they did not consider the Convention as being in force
between their countries and Iceland. Iceland supported the view that
its reservation to the Schedule should have been treated differently
than that to the International Whaling Convention itself and therefore
challenged the competence of the IWC to decide on such a reservation.
However, in case of the ICRW, the Schedule constitutes an integral
part of the Convention and the IWC has the power to decide on

54
25 votes in support, 20 against (id.).
55
16 for, 21 against (id.).
56
18 in support, 18 against (id.).
57
18 in support, 18 against (id.).
58
18 votes in favour, 19 against (id.).
 divided we stand843

reservations thereto.59 Finally, the question may be asked whether the

reservation of Iceland was compatible with the object and purpose of
the Whaling Convention. It may be reminded that the IWC originally
took the view that it was not.60

D. Post-Moratorium Conflicts

As it is noted the imposing of the moratorium on commercial whaling

had not ended conflicts–on the contrary it exacerbated them.61 It was
widely perceived that the IWC became an anti-whaling body. There
were several protests and actions taken by whaling States to counteract
this. Iceland, disappointed by the continuation of the moratorium on
commercial whaling without sound scientific evidence, resumed com-
mercial whaling, in accordance with its reservation in 2006, in addition
to conducting scientific programs (see below).62 Norway raised its
quota of minke whales to 1,052 a year.63 In the meantime Japan contin-
ues a very controversial scientific whaling which is another loophole
of the ICRW.64 It is argued that in fact under the guise of scientific

59
 Gillespie (note 2), at 402.
60
 Id., at 404.
61
 Nagtzaam (note 2), at 194 (The Making of International Environmental Treaties).
62
 Iceland’s 2009 commercial whale hunt was the largest of its kind in decades, with
126 fin whales and 81 mike whales killed. In March 2010, the new Fisheries Minister
set new quotas for 2010 at 200 fin and 200 minke whales, with a possible carry-over of
20% of any unused quota from 2009. Whale and Dolphin Conservation Society, avail-
able at http://www.wdcs.org/submissions_bin/Iceland_whaling.pdf.
63
 Information available at http://www.wspa-international.org/latestnews/2009/
norway_whaling.aspx.
64
 Article VIII: “Notwithstanding anything contained in this Convention any
Contracting Government may grant to any of its nationals a special permit authorizing
that national to kill, take and treat whales for purposes of scientific research subject to
such restrictions as to number and subject to such other conditions as the Contracting
Government thinks fit, and the killing, taking, and treating of whales in accordance
with the provisions of this Article shall be exempt from the operation of this
Convention. Each Contracting Government shall report at once to the Commission all
such authorizations which it has granted. Each Contracting Government may at any
time revoke any such special permit which it has granted.
2. Any whales taken under these special permits shall so far as practicable be pro-
cessed and the proceeds shall be dealt with in accordance with directions issued by the
Government by which the permit was granted.
3. Each Contracting Government shall transmit to such body as may be designated
by the Commission, in so far as practicable, and at intervals of not more than one year,
scientific information available to that Government with respect to whales and whal-
ing, including the results of research conducted pursuant to paragraph 1 of this Article
and to Article IV.”
844 malgosia fitzmaurice

whaling, Japan continues commercial whaling. The main drawback of

scientific whaling is that the licences for such an activity are issued by
States and not by the IWC. Since 1985 overall permits for special
catches issued by Japan, Iceland (and to the lesser degree South Korea
and Norway) resulted in taking of 13,313 whales of different species.65
It may be also noted that Japan attempted several times to obtain the
permit from the Whaling Commission on so-called coastal whaling for
local communities, which was refused. Nevertheless, every year coastal
communities hunt dolphins and whales, by means which are not con-
sidered humane.
Further it may be added that both Norway and Japan try to justify
their whaling as part of their culture. The general dissatisfaction with
the anti-whaling policy of the IWC lead to the adoption of the St. Kitts
and St. Nevis Resolution, at the 2006 Annual Meeting,66 This Resolution
expressed vote of non-confidence for the IWC. It read, inter alia, as
follows:
“Concerned that after 14 years of discussion and negotiation, the IWC
has failed to complete and implement a management regime to regulate
commercial whaling […] Rejecting as unacceptable that a number of
international NGOs with self-interest campaigns should use threats in an
attempt to direct government policy on matters of sovereign rights
related to the use of resources for food security and national develop-
ment; Noting that the position of some members that are opposed to the
resumption of commercial whaling on a sustainable basis irrespective of
the status of whale stocks is contrary to the object and purpose of the
International Convention for the Regulation of Whaling; Understanding
that the IWC can be saved from collapse only by implementing conserva-
tion and management measures which will allow controlled and sustain-
able whaling which would not mean a return to historic over-harvesting
and that continuing failure to do so serves neither the interests of whale
conservation nor management […] Commissioners express their con-
cern that the IWC has failed to meet its obligations under the terms of the
ICRW and Declare our commitment to normalising the functions of the
IWC based on the terms of the ICRW and other relevant international

65
 Information available at www.iwcoffice.org/conservation/table_permit.htm.
66
Sponsored by the following States: St Kitts and Nevis, Antigua & Barbuda, Benin,
Cambodia, Cameroon, Cote d’Ivoire, Dominica, Gabon, Gambia, Grenada, Republic
of Guinea, Iceland, Japan, Kiribati, Mali, Republic of the Marshall Islands, Mauritania,
Mongolia, Morocco, Nauru, Nicaragua, Norway, Republic of Palau, Russian Federation,
St Lucia, St Vincent and the Grenadines, Solomon Islands, Suriname, Togo, Tuvalu,
available at www.iwcoffice.org/meetings/resolutions/resolution2006.htm.
 divided we stand845

law, respect for cultural diversity and traditions of coastal peoples and the
fundamental principles of sustainable use of resources, and the need for
science-based policy and rulemaking that are accepted as the world
standard for the management of marine resources.”
Yet another ground for the disagreement among the members of the
IWC is the alleged vote buying by Japan.67 For example, it was claimed
that Japan bought votes of Solomon Islands and Caribbean States (“aid
money”) to support Japan in the IWC.68 However, such allegations are
very difficult to prove, as Japan always denied them and provides aid to
over 150 States.69

E. Aboriginal Subsistence Whaling

This type of whaling is also a divisive issue within the Whaling

Commission. Aboriginal subsistence whaling is an exception to the
ban on commercial whaling. The Whaling Convention does not include
a provision directly referring to indigenous whaling; however, aborigi-
nal subsistence whaling was the part of the Schedule to this Convention,
as the exception to commercial whaling. Such whaling was meant to be
conducted under the condition that meat and other whale products are
to be used exclusively for the purpose of local consumption by the abo-
riginal people. According to the IWC its objectives are the following: to
ensure risks of extinction are not seriously increased (highest priority);
to enable harvests in perpetuity appropriate to cultural and nutritional
requirements; to maintain stocks at highest net recruitment level and,
if below that, ensure they move towards it. It is the responsibility of
national governments to provide the Commission with evidence of the
cultural and subsistence needs of their people. The Scientific Committee

67
 Nagtzaam (note 2), at 198–199 (The Making of International Environmental
Treaties); Gillespie (note 2), at 425–446.
68
 Nagtzaam (note 2), at 198 (The Making of International Environmental Treaties).
In the British House of Commons, Tony Banks said as follows: “One of the most con-
temptible practices employed by the Japanese is the buying of votes in the IWC–
providing development and fisheries aid to a number of countries on condition that
they will vote with Japan at the IWC.” He mentioned several such countries, such as
Antigua and Barbuda, Dominica, Morocco, St. Lucia, St. Vincent and the Grenadines,
St Kits and St. Nevis, Grenada and Guinea… “The Government must challenge Japan
and that vote buying, because if it is allowed to succeed at the IWC, it will buy a return
to whaling”, cited by Gillespie (note 2), at 434–435.
69
 Nagtzaam (note 2), at 198 (The Making of International Environmental Treaties).
846 malgosia fitzmaurice

provides scientific advice on safe catch limits for such stocks.70 Within
the IWC there are the following States engaged in aboriginal subsist-
ence whaling: Denmark- Greenland: fin and minke whales, the Russian
Federation- Chukotka indigenous peoples: gray and bowhead whales,
St. Vincent and the Grenadines: humpback whales, and the USA–
Alaska: bowhead and gray whales. It may be noted that aboriginal
whaling is not only conducted within the framework of the IWC. There
is a group of States, non-Parties to the Whaling Convention, where
aboriginal whaling continues, such as Canada,71 Guinea, Indonesia and
the Philippines. For many years, the IWC has been developing an
Aboriginal Whaling Management Scheme (hereinafter the “AWMS”),
which consists of two elements: the quota setting mechanisms (which
is in place); and a supervision and control scheme in order to establish
the future management of aboriginal subsistence whaling (not yet
operational). The new AWMS will comprise some general aspects
common to all fisheries (e.g. guidelines and requirements for surveys
and for data) and an overall AWMS within which there will be com-
mon components and case-specific components. At present, the IWC
conducts the operation of aboriginal subsistence whaling on an ad hoc
basis which is very unsatisfactory.72 Due to the absence of a general
operational scheme, every meeting of the IWC is almost entirely
devoted to the discussion of aboriginal whaling. For example in 2009,
the primary focus of discussions within the Commission was the
request for a catch of 10 humpback whales. The Scientific Committee
has confirmed that such catches will not harm the stock. The IWC also
discussed whether Greenland had adequately shown that it “needed”

70
 Available at www.iwcoffice.org/conservation/aboriginal.htm. See above the list of
aboriginal whaling States. See on this subject: L. Heinämäki, Protecting the Rights of
Indigenous Peoples–Promoting the Sustainability of the Global Environment?,
11 International Community Law Review 3 (2009); K. Hossain, Hunting by Indigenous
Peoples of Charismatic Mega-Fauna: Does Human Rights Approach Challenge the
Way Hunting by Indigenous Peoples is Regulated?, 10 International Community Law
Review 295 (2008); B. L. Richardson, Indigenous Peoples, International Law and
Sustainability, 10 Review of European Community and International Environmental
Law 1 (2001); A. Gillespie, Aboriginal Subsistence Whaling: A Critique of the Inter-
Relationship Between International Law and the International Whaling Commission,
12 Colorado Journal of International Environmental Law and Policy 77 (2001);
S. Hankins, The United States’ Abuse of the Aboriginal Whaling Exception: A
Contradiction in United States Policy and a Dangerous Precedent for the Whale,
24 U.C. Davis Law Review 489 (1990).
71
Canada was one of the original signatories of the Whaling Convention but with-
drew from it in 1982.
72
 Available at www.iwcoffice.org/conservation/catches.htm#aborig.
 divided we stand847

(which is a condition necessary for the allocation of quotas for aborigi-

nal whaling) to catch these whales.73 One of the points at issue is the
lack of clear definition what constitutes aboriginal subsistence whaling.
The Aboriginal Subsistence Whaling (hereinafter the “ASW”) Sub-
Committee was established in order to consider documentation on
needs relating to aboriginal whaling (subsistence, nutritional and cul-
tural) and to advice the Technical Committee on setting up of proper
management measures. The IWC’s Anthropology Panel defined sub-
sistence as personal consumption of whale products for the following
purposes: food, fuel, shelter, clothing; tools, or transportation by par-
ticipation in the whole harvest. As Gillespie observed, such a definition
indicating that hunts for whales must be local and non-commercial in
nature conflicts to some extent with the above definition of consump-
tion that allows the sale of by-products. As practice of States indicates
the “nutritional need” of indigenous peoples has been frequently very
difficult to prove.74
The case of the Makah people and aboriginal whaling is an excellent
illustration of the difficulties relating to aboriginal whaling.
Heinämäki in her insightful essay describes on the basis of the case
of the Makah people the complexity of whaling as an example of cul-
tural exemption.75 Makah indigenous people live in the State of
Washington. They traditionally hunted for grey whales for centuries.
They ceded certain lands to the United States on the basis of the 1855
Treaty between them and the United States Government, which also
guaranteed their rights to hunt for seals and whales and to fish in a
reservation they were relocated to. Around the turn of the 20th cen-
tury, the Makah people voluntarily stopped grey whales hunting due to
their decline in numbers caused by commercial hunting. However, the
absence of whaling impacted adversely on the Makah people from an
economic point of view. After the stocks of grey whales recovered and
were taken off the list of endangered species, the Makah people decided
to resume whaling due to nutritional and cultural reasons. However,
the plan to resume whaling after such a long break (almost hundred
years) met with opposition within the International Whaling
Commission, the U.S. Congress and the Makah themselves acting as

73
 Id.
74
 Gillespie (note 69), at 106–107.
75
 All information from Heinämäki (note 69), at 46–52.
848 malgosia fitzmaurice

the observes at the meeting of the IWC (they claimed that the resump-
tion of whaling was not supported by all the tribe). The IWC decided
that the suggested Makah whaling did not fulfil the criteria for the abo-
riginal subsistence, which require subsistence needs and continuing,
traditional dependence of whaling. In 1997, the U.S. brought again the
case of the Makah grey hunt whaling before the IWC. However, this
time it was a joint request with Russia (on the behalf of the Chukotka
people) and in fact was trade-off between the U.S. and Russia. The IWC
did not adopt any decisions on the legitimacy of such hunting and the
allocation of quota. It may be noted as well that the U.S. usually argued
the case of the Makah aboriginal whaling on the basis of its obligations
stemming from the 1855 treaty rather than on the grounds of legiti-
macy. Environmental organizations for their part, argued that the
Makah tribe would engage in commercial whaling to sell the whale
products to Japan, once whaling was resumed; allegations that were
strongly denied by the Makah people. The opponents of the resump-
tion by the Makah people of whaling put in doubt that whaling was
necessary for their subsistence activity, noting that the Makah people
had lived without whale meat for a very long time. Similarly, the argu-
ment that whaling was tantamount with cultural revitalisation of the
Makah was not fully accepted. There were arguments which were based
on fear that Makah whaling claim (if accepted) would result in many
similar claims by other indigenous peoples (in fact thirteen Canadian
tribes made a claim to hunt grey whales). Additionally, some argued
that such whaling would give a boost for Norwegian and Japanese
claims to support their own whaling traditions.
It must be noted, however, that some scholars supported claims by
the Makah and were of the view that the Makah should not be denied
the right to resuming whaling that was abandoned due to the overex-
ploitation of stocks by commercial whalers.
The above case evidences that the criteria for the aboriginal whaling
are complicated and not entirely clear-cut.

F. Scientific Whaling

One of the most contentious issues is scientific whaling (see above). It

is provided for under Article VIII of the Convention. Such permits are
issued nationally; the IWC only has prepared a set of Guidelines. This
right trumps any other Commission regulations including the morato-
rium and sanctuaries. The most contentious are permits issued by
 divided we stand849

Japan. It has issued scientific research permits every year in recent

years. In the current year, permits are for the JARPA II programme
(850±10% Antarctic minke whales, 50 fin whales and 50 humpback
whales) and the JARPN II programme (340 minke, 50 Bryde’s, 100 sei
and 10 sperm whales). The 2004/05 Antarctic season was the final year
of the 16-year “JARPA” programme, following a 2-year feasibility study.
After completion of the JARPA programme, Japan initiated a JARPA II
programme, initially as a 2-year feasibility study, for 850±10% and
10 fin whales in the Antarctic. After completion of the JARPN pro-
gramme in the North Pacific, Japan initiated a JARPN II programme,
initially as a 2-year feasibility study, for 100 common minke whales, 50
Bryde’s whales and 10 sperm whales in the western North Pacific.76 In
2000, the Commission adopted a Resolution by majority strongly urg-
ing Japan to reconsider issuing the permits. It adopted a similar
Resolution in 2001. Further Resolutions were passed in 2003 (24 votes
in favour, 21 against and 1 abstention) and 2005 (30 votes to 27 votes
with 1 abstention) that strongly urged the Government of Japan to
withdraw its JARPA II proposal or to revise it so that any information
needed to meet the stated objectives of the proposal is obtained using
non-lethal means. Japan withdrew a proposed resolution in favour of
the research programmes. At the 2007 Annual meeting there were
doubts expressed regarding the value of this research both within the
Scientific Committee and the Commission, including: the relevance of
the proposed research to management, appropriate sample sizes and
applicability of alternate (non-lethal) research methods.77

G. Recent Developments

One of the controversial and divisive questions of the work of the IWC
was the lack of the scientifically reliable Revised Management Procedure
(hereinafter the “RMP”) as a method of setting safe catch limits
for certain stocks (groups of whales of the same species living in a par-
ticular area) where the numbers are plentiful.78 The resulting lack of

76
The objectives of the programme were: 1. estimation of biological parameters
(especially the natural mortality rate) to improve management; 2. elucidation of stock
structure to improve management; 3. examination of the role of whales in the Antarctic
ecosystem; 4. examination of the effect of environmental changes on cetaceans.
Available at http://iwcoffice.org/conservation/permits.htm.
77
 Available at http://iwcoffice.org/commission/iwcmain.htm#research.
78
 Available at www.iwcoffice.org/conservation/rms.htm.
850 malgosia fitzmaurice

reliable data as to the size of various whale stocks was one of the factors
preventing the adoption of the informed decision on the continuation
of the moratorium. The RMP was eventually adopted in 2007.
Prior to the June 2010 annual meeting of the IWC and at the meeting
in Agadir79 (Morocco), talks were held on the package deal regarding
the resumption of the limited commercial hunting for the first time in
24 years under a draft plan drawn up by a working group of the IWC
(regulating whaling for the next ten years). The draft aimed at the
reduction of the number of whales hunted under scientific whaling
permits, in return for strict limits on the number of mammals killed.
The basic provisions of the deal were that Japan would phase down (or
phase out) its whaling operations in the Southern Ocean: its annual
minke whale quota to fall from 935 to 400 at present and then to 200 in
2015. The proposal also suggested bringing scientific whaling under
the mandate of the Whaling Commission i.e. removing it from the
individual State’s jurisdiction (this would mean banning unilateral
whaling). In exchange, Japan would be assigned a quota for hunting
whales in its coastal waters. Iceland and Norway would receive quotas
set by the IWC that could be smaller than the quotas they currently
award themselves. No other countries would be permitted to begin
hunting. In order to prevent illegal hunting, observers on whaling
boats and a DNA register for meat would be introduced. Subsistence
hunting by indigenous groups would remain unaffected.80 The pro-
posal was aimed at the prevention of the collapse of the IWC due to
irreconcilable differences between States. The plan to resume commer-
cial whaling was met with strong protests by ENGOs.81 Delegates were
unable to reach an agreement. The European Union ardently opposed
the plan.
Yet another significant development is the initiation of the proceed-
ings before the International Court of Justice by Australia against Japan
for alleged breach of international obligations concerning whaling.82

79
 Id.
80
 Available at www.bbc.co.uk/news/10384336.
81
 Available at www.stuff.co.nz/world/3364898/Commercial-whaling-may-resume.
82
“‘Japan’s continued pursuit of a large scale programme of whaling under the
Second Phase of its Japanese Whale Research Programme under Special Permit in
the Antarctic (‘JARPA II’) [is] in breach of obligations assumed by Japan under the
International Convention for the Regulation of Whaling (‘ICRW’), as well as its other
international obligations for the preservation of marine mammals and marine
environment’. The Applicant contends, in particular, that Japan ‘has breached and is
 divided we stand851

H. Conclusions

It appears that the International Whaling Commission is one of the

most dysfunctional international bodies. The moratorium on commer-
cial whaling and the failure to resume whaling further polarised
the IWC. In fact there is no activity concerning whaling which would
not lead to acrimonious confrontations between member States.
Scientific and indigenous whaling are also fertile grounds for miscon-
ceptions and accusations for unfair dealings. The IWC is an anomalous
organization–devoted to whaling–in which out of 88 member States
only a minority is still engaged in different types of whaling, with the
majority of non-whaling States (and some of the whaling States are
outside the IWC, such as Canada and Indonesia).
The IWC’s jurisdiction is also unusual, as the Whaling Convention
does not define what a whale is–and due to this omission there are
continuous discussions regarding its jurisdiction on medium and small
cetaceans. In the view of the present author the situation is not going to
improve and the irreconcilable differences may lead to the eventual
collapse of the International Whaling Commission. Anyhow, as it has
been evidenced by the recent case brought before the International
Court of Justice, that whaling activities (in any form) cannot be recon-
ciled with the existing legal framework of the 1946 Whaling Convention.

continuing to breach the following obligations under the ICRW: (a) the obligation
under paragraph 10 (e) of the Schedule to the ICRW to observe in good faith the zero
catch limit in relation to the killing of whales for commercial purposes; and (b) the
obligation under paragraph 7 (b) of the Schedule to the ICRW to act in good faith to
refrain from undertaking commercial whaling of humpback and fin whales in the
Southern Ocean Sanctuary.’ Australia points out that ‘having regard to the scale of the
JARPA II programme, the lack of any demonstrated relevance for the conservation and
management of whale stocks, and to the risks presented to targeted species and stocks,
the JARPA II programme cannot be justified under Article VIII of the ICRW’ […]
Australia alleges further that Japan has also breached and is continuing to breach, inter
alia, its obligations under the Convention on International Trade in Endangered
Species of Wild Fauna and Flora and under the Convention on Biological Diversity”,
available at www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/148/15953.pdf.
 On the Classification of Obligations in
International Law

Philippe Gautier

A. Introduction

It is a pleasure and an honour to contribute to a liber amicorum dedi-

cated to Rüdiger Wolfrum; it is also a challenge, given the apparently
unlimited variety of activities that have attracted his interest as aca-
demic, negotiator or judge on topics that range from the South Pole to
the Arctic, from human rights to the environment and from the deep
seabed to the Sudan.
This paper will take as its starting point a recently published article by
Wolfrum concerning the distinction between obligations of conduct
and obligations of result in international law.1 That distinction was
examined by Roberto Ago in his International Law Commission (ILC)
reports on State responsibility and, since then, has attracted the atten-
tion of a number of international scholars.2 In his article, Wolfrum not
only revisits the classification, but also enriches it by referring to new
categories of obligations. In so doing, he expands on an idea expressed
by Jean Combacau, who, thirty years ago,3 noted that there was a lack
of–and therefore a need for–a theory of obligations in international
law. Certainly, certain aspects of such a theory have already been devel-
oped. The sources of obligations (treaties, customary law, unilateral
acts and principles of law) and the conditions for their creation are

1
 R. Wolfrum, Obligation of Result Versus Obligation of Conduct: Some Thoughts
About the Implementation of International Obligations, in: M. Arsanjani et al. (eds.),
Looking to the Future: Essays on International Law in Honor of W. Michael Reisman,
363 (2010).
2
 See e.g. P.-M. Dupuy, Reviewing the Difficulties of Codification: On Ago’s
Classification of Obligations of Means and Obligations of Result in Relation to State
Responsibility, 10 European Journal of International Law 371 (1999).
  3
J. Combacau, Obligations de résultat et obligations de comportement, quelques
questions et pas de réponse, in: D. Bardonnet (ed.), Mélanges offerts à Paul Reuter, Le
droit international, unité et diversité, 181 (1981).
854 philippe gautier

relatively well known4 but, apart from the notions of obligations erga
omnes and ius cogens (peremptory norms), the existing studies on
international obligations are very general in nature.
It therefore seems useful to turn again to the classification of obliga-
tions in international law. To this end, I will examine the notions of
obligations of result and obligations of conduct (B), obligations con-
cerning the treatment of persons and obligations granting direct rights
to States (C), and self-executing obligations (D).

B. Obligations of Result and Obligations of Conduct

I. Roberto Ago’s Classification

If the distinction between obligations of conduct and obligations of
result has become “popular” in international law, this is largely due to
Ago, who developed these notions and attached thereto important
consequences as regards the responsibility of States. This distinction, as
developed by Ago, is not reflected in the final set of articles on State
responsibility adopted by the ILC in 2006, but that does not mean that
it may simply be ignored. It forms a comprehensive and refined system,
a fact which may explain the interest that it continues to generate.
In Ago’s theory, the distinction between obligations of result and
obligations of conduct is closely linked to the way that international
law interacts with municipal law and, more precisely, to the degree of
intrusion of international law into the sphere of domestic law. According
to Ago, in most cases, international law “stops short at the outer bound-
aries of the State machinery”5 and does not prescribe to the State the
precise ways in which it needs to comply with its international
obligations. However in some cases which, for Ago, “are relatively rare–
international law, in a sense, invades the sphere of the State by
requiring one or other specified component of the State machinery to
adopt a particular course of conduct”6 in the form of an action or an

4
This does not mean that there are no remaining grey areas in the creation of inter-
national obligations, particularly when obligations are deduced from the practice of
States or from their silence, as in the case of modifications of treaties based on the
subsequent practice of States parties, or that of obligations based on acquiescence or
implied consent.
5
Yearbook of the International Law Commission 1977, Vol. II, Part 1, UN Doc. A/
CN.4/SER.A/1977/Add.1 (Part 1) (1978), at 8.
6
 Id.
 classification of obligations in international law855

omission. As an example, Ago refers to rules prescribing that the

authorities of a State shall abrogate a law7 or that they should “refrain
from subjecting certain individuals to arrest or detention”8 or “from
entering certain premises which enjoy special protection, such as the
premises of a diplomatic or consular mission or an international organ-
ization”.9 In such cases, a specific course of conduct is prohibited and
the State’s freedom to select the means by which it will meet its obliga-
tion is limited.10
Contrary to obligations of conduct, obligations of result “indicate
the required result, leaving it to the State to choose the means of achiev-
ing it”;11 this corresponds to the definition of a “directive” under
European Union law.12 As examples of such obligations,13 Ago refers to
the duty of protection of diplomatic missions, established in Article 22,
para. 2, of the Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations,14 and to
obligations “to extend most-favoured-nation treatment to other States
in an agreed field of relations” which “merely state the aim to be
achieved, without specifying the means to be employed to achieve it”.15
The salient point of the distinction is that breaches of each category
of obligations are subject to different conditions. With respect to

7
 Id., at 5.
8
 Id., at 6.
9
 Id.
10
 Several obligations of this kind may be found, e.g. in provisions of the 1982 United
Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), Article 73, para. 3, providing
that “coastal penalties for violations of fisheries laws and regulations in the exclusive
economic zone may not include imprisonment […]” and Article 97 specifying that in
cases involving collisions of vessels on the high seas, criminal proceedings may be
instituted against the master of a ship only by the authorities of “the flag State or of the
State of which such person is a national”.
11
 See supra note 5, at 4 (quoting D. Anzilotti, La responsabilité internationale des
Etats à raison des dommages soufferts par des étrangers, 13 Revue Générale de Droit
International Public 5, at 26 (1906)).
12
 Id., at 9, quoting Article 189 of the Treaty establishing the European Economic
Community: “Directives shall bind any Member State to which they are addressed, as
to the result to be achieved, while leaving to domestic agencies a competence as to form
and means” (see now Article 288 of the consolidated version of the Treaty on the
Functioning of the European Union, Official Journal of the European Union, C 83/47
of 30 March 2010).
13
The provisions of UNCLOS that prescribe equal treatment (Article 131) and non-
discrimination between ships (Arts 26 (2) and 227) would seem to correspond to that
definition.
14
 See supra note 5, at 9: “The receiving State is under a special duty to take all appro-
priate steps to protect the premises of the mission against any intrusion or damage and
to prevent any disturbance of the peace of the mission or impairment of its dignity.”
15
 Id., footnote 37.
856 philippe gautier

obligations of conduct, breach of the obligation results immediately

from an action not in conformity with the conduct required (e.g. the
adoption of particular legislation), regardless of whether any damage
was caused by the breach. As regards obligations of result, a State incurs
liability if the prescribed result is not achieved, regardless of the con-
duct adopted by it.

II. The “Civil Law” Approach

The main reason that the classification proposed by Ago has not sur-
vived the passing of time is probably that it not only departed from
classic civil law notions of obligations of result and of conduct; it also
failed to demonstrate that the legal consequences of the new approach
outweighed the benefits of the classic approach.
The so-called “civil law” approach is based on common sense.
Obligations of result refer to precise actions or omissions by the State at
the international level or within its domestic legal order. Examples
include the obligation prohibiting “[a]ny activity relating to mineral
resources, other than scientific research” under Article 6 of the Madrid
Protocol to the Antarctic Treaty and the obligation, established in
Article 36, para. 1 (b), of the 1963 Vienna Convention on Consular
Relations, according to which the receiving State must inform the com-
petent authorities of the sending State without delay if, within its con-
sular district, a national of that State is arrested and if he/she so requests.
Obligations of conduct may be characterized as obligations to
“endeavour”–to adopt certain conduct–without requiring that a spe-
cific result be achieved. The State has the duty to use its best efforts
towards a certain end. The duty to negotiate or to cooperate constitutes
a paradigm for such obligations, as does the obligation for the receiving
State to take appropriate measures to protect the premises of diplo-
matic missions against any intrusion or damage.
Clearly, this distinction does not correspond to Ago’s classification
and sometimes leads to opposite conclusions.16 For example, the obli-
gation (of conduct) to take appropriate measures to protect diplomatic
missions would be an obligation of result according to Ago, whereas
the obligation (of result) that gives arrested persons the right to seek
and obtain consular assistance, established in Article 36, para. 1 (b) of
the Vienna Convention on Consular Relations, would be an obligation

16
Dupuy (note 2), at 375.
 classification of obligations in international law857

of conduct for Ago. In other instances, the two approaches produce

similar results, as in the case of European directives which would be
characterized as obligations of result under both approaches.
The legal consequences of the “classic” distinction relate to the deter-
mination that a breach of the obligation has occurred. In the case of an
obligation of result, a breach occurs as soon as a situation which is not
consistent with the required result arises. Breach of an obligation of
conduct requires examination of the actions or omissions of the State
concerned in order to assess whether it has discharged its obligation to
make its best effort in a reasonable manner.
The fact that the International Court of Justice (ICJ) has used the
distinction between obligations of result and obligations of conduct–in
its “classic” meaning–shows its practical utility. The case concerning
pulp mills on the river Uruguay (Uruguay v. Argentina) provides a good
illustration; Argentina and Uruguay disagreed as to the “nature of the
obligation laid down in Article 36,17 and in particular whether it is an
obligation of conduct or of result”.18 In its judgment of 2010, the Court
considered that this obligation “is addressed to both Parties and pre-
scribes the specific conduct of co-ordinating the necessary measures
through the Commission to avoid changes to the ecological balance.
An obligation to adopt regulatory or administrative measures either
individually or jointly and to enforce them is an obligation of conduct.
Both Parties are therefore called upon, under Article 36, to exercise due
diligence in acting through the Commission for the necessary meas-
ures to preserve the ecological balance of the river.”19

III. Obligations of Prevention

In his 1978 report to the ILC, Ago gave separate consideration to a
particular subcategory of obligations, i.e. obligations to prevent a given
event.20 In his view, these obligations deserved such attention because
their violation–and the resulting responsibility–requires, as a prior

17
 Article 36 of the Treaty of 26 February 1975 provides that “[t]he parties shall co-
ordinate, through the Commission, the necessary measures to avoid any change in the
ecological balance and to control pests and other harmful factors in the river and the
areas affected by it”; see Pulp Mills on the River Uruguay (Uruguay v. Argentina),
Judgment, 20 April 2010, para. 183, available at http://www.icj-cij.org.
18
 Id., para. 186.
19
 Id., para. 187.
20
Yearbook of the International Law Commission 1978, Vol. II, Part 2, UN Doc. A/
CN.4/Ser.A/1978/Add.1 (Part 2) (1979), at 81.
858 philippe gautier

condition, the occurrence of the event that they are intended to pre-
vent.21 In other words, breach of an obligation of prevention could not
be claimed to have occurred on the sole ground that no system of pre-
vention had been put into place by the State concerned, as long as the
occurrence of the event had not taken place. On the other hand, the
mere occurrence of the event is not sufficient to conclude that there
had been a breach of the obligation. It must be shown that the event
had occurred because the State had failed to prevent it by its conduct
and thus that “a certain causal link–indirect, of course, not direct–must
exist between the occurrence of the event and the conduct adopted in
the matter by the organs of the State”.22
According to the classic approach, the obligation of prevention is an
obligation of conduct and, contrary to the approach adopted by Ago, it
would be logical to conclude that a breach of that obligation occurs as
soon as the State fails to adopt the required conduct,23 independently of
the occurrence of the event. Even if these premises are accepted, how-
ever, it is difficult to deny that the occurrence of the event plays a cer-
tain role in the violation, at least as evidence of a potential breach.24 The
decision of the ICJ in application of the Convention on the Prevention
and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (Bosnia and Herzegovina v.
Yugoslavia), Preliminary Objections25 illustrates this point. According
to the Court, “it is clear that the obligation in question [to prevent the
crime of Genocide] is one of conduct and not one of result, in the sense
that a State cannot be under an obligation to succeed, whatever the
circumstances, in preventing the commission of genocide: the obliga-
tion of States parties is rather to employ all means reasonably available
to them, so as to prevent genocide so far as possible”.26 It went on to
explain that “a State can be held responsible for breaching the obliga-
tion to prevent genocide only if genocide was actually committed” and

21
Draft articles on State responsibility, Article 23 (Breach of an international obliga-
tion to prevent a given event): “When the result required of a State by an international
obligation is the prevention, by means of its own choice, of the occurrence of a given
event, there is a breach of that obligation only if, by the conduct adopted, the State does
not achieve that result.”: id., at 82.
22
 Id., at 83.
23
Dupuy (note 2), at 379.
24
 Id., at 381.
25
Case Concerning the Application of the Convention on the Prevention and
Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (Bosnia and Herzegovina v. Serbia and
Montenegro), Judgment, 26 February 2007, available at http://www.icj-cij.org.
26
 Id., para. 430.
 classification of obligations in international law859

referred “to a general rule of the law of State responsibility, stated by the
ILC in Article 14, paragraph 3, of its Articles on State Responsibility”.27
At the same time, the Court recognized that the obligation of preven-
tion must come into play before the event takes place; otherwise it
would be meaningless.28 Nevertheless, the Court maintained that, if the
genocide was not “ultimately carried out, then a State that omitted to
act when it could have done so cannot be held responsible a posteriori,
since the event did not happen which, under the rule set out above,
must occur for there to be a violation of the obligation to prevent”.29
In order to resolve this apparent contradiction, attention should
probably be paid to the precise wording of the obligations concerned.
Indeed, the so-called “obligations of prevention” cover, in fact, a broad
range of duties. For example, the provision in Article I of the Convention
on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide, accord-
ing to which “[t]he Contracting Parties confirm that genocide, whether
committed in time of peace or in time of war, is a crime under interna-
tional law which they undertake to prevent and to punish”, does not
prescribe any specific conduct to be adopted by States parties. The
obligation here is general and does not necessarily imply that preven-
tive measures must automatically be put into place. States parties cer-
tainly are under an obligation to take action as soon as they are aware
of a risk of genocide but, as noted by the ICJ, the obligation–by its very
wording–suggests that a breach requires the occurrence of acts of gen-
ocide as defined in Article II of the Convention.
By comparison, an additional element is introduced into the obliga-
tion of prevention established in Article 22, para. 2, of the Vienna
Convention on Diplomatic Relations: “[t]he receiving State is under a
special duty to take all appropriate steps to protect the premises of the
mission against any intrusion or damage and to prevent any distur-
bance of the peace of the mission or impairment of its dignity.” This

27
 Id., para. 431. Para. 3 of Article 14 states: “The breach of an international obliga-
tion requiring a State to prevent a given event occurs when the event occurs and
extends over the entire period during which the event continues and remains not in
conformity with that obligation.”
28
 Id.: “This obviously does not mean that the obligation to prevent genocide only
comes into being when perpetration of genocide commences; that would be absurd,
since the whole point of the obligation is to prevent, or attempt to prevent, the occur-
rence of the act. In fact, a State’s obligation to prevent, and the corresponding duty to
act, arise at the instant that the State learns of, or should normally have learned of, the
existence of a serious risk that genocide will be committed.”
29
 Id.
860 philippe gautier

obligation, which enjoins the State to take “all appropriate steps to pro-
tect the premises”, requires that some mechanism be put into place in
order for the State to react efficiently whenever a risk arises.30 The obli-
gation established in Article 210, para. 1, of the United Nations
Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS) goes a step further, since
it requires States to “adopt laws and regulations to prevent, reduce and
control pollution of the marine environment by dumping”. Clearly,
these obligations of conduct are more precise and make it mandatory
for States to take some preventive measures. Thus, a breach of the obli-
gation may occur if no appropriate action is taken, even if the event to
be prevented did not take place.
It may also be observed that, in some instances, a single provision of
a treaty establishes both an obligation of result and an obligation of
conduct. As noted by Wolfrum,31 Article 4 of the Convention on the
Elimination of Racial Discrimination establishes an obligation of con-
duct (“to adopt immediate and positive measures designed to eradicate
all incitement to, or acts of such [racial] discrimination”), as well as an
obligation of result (to adopt legislative measures in order to criminal-
ize “incitement to racial discrimination, as well as acts of violence or
incitement to such acts […]”). Another example may be found in envi-
ronmental law. The obligation established in Article 3 of the 1992
Convention for the Protection of the Marine Environment of the
North-East Atlantic (the OSPAR Convention), according to which
“[t]he Contracting Parties shall take, individually and jointly, all pos-
sible steps to prevent and eliminate pollution from land-based sources
in accordance with the provisions of the Convention, in particular as
provided for in Annex I”, may be qualified as a general obligation of
conduct. Such an obligation may be reinforced by a number of more
specific obligations, some of them prescribing a result, such as Article
6 of the OSPAR Convention: “The Contracting Parties shall, in accord-
ance with the provisions of the Convention, […]: (a) undertake and
publish at regular intervals joint assessments of the quality status of the
marine environment and of its development, for the maritime area or
for regions or sub-regions thereof […].” In other instances, similar
obligations of results might require the prior notification of any planned
activity that might have a harmful impact on a neighbouring State or
the submission of reports on implementation of the provisions of a

 See also UNCLOS, Article 194, para. 2.

30

 Wolfrum (note 1), at 380.

31
 classification of obligations in international law861

given convention. Here again, a breach of these obligations may occur

even if the event in question did not take place.
Obligations of prevention normally require States to adopt measures
with a view to avoiding an event the occurrence of which does not lie
entirely within the control of the State concerned, as in the case of the
duty to prevent damage to the environment caused by activities under-
taken by legal or juridical persons on its territory or under its jurisdic-
tion. The situation is different when States undertake to ensure that
action is taken by their own authorities; this scenario may be seen in
Article 9 of the OSPAR Convention, which provides that “[t]he
Contracting Parties shall ensure that their competent authorities are
required to make available the information […] to any natural or legal
person, in response to any reasonable request, without that person’s
having to prove an interest, without unreasonable charges, as soon
as possible and at the latest within two months”. According to this
provision, States parties are not required to ensure that action is taken
by third parties (e.g., by legal or juridical persons under their jurisdic-
tion); they make a commitment vis-à-vis their own organs. It is, there-
fore, not surprising to observe that in the dispute concerning access to
information under Article 9 of the OSPAR Convention, the arbitral
tribunal decided that para. 1 of that provision32 “imposes an obligation
of result rather than merely to provide access to a domestic regime
which is directed at obtaining the required result”.33 In other words, the
obligation would be meaningless if a State were considered to have ful-
filled its obligation simply by addressing a request to that effect to its
authorities, even if the information was not ultimately provided.

IV. Comments
The importance of the distinction between obligations of result and
obligations of conduct resides in the specific conditions that apply to
each category when an assessment of a breach is made. In the case of an
obligation of result, whenever a situation is created which is incompat-
ible with the result required (e.g. a person who enjoys diplomatic

32
“The Contracting Parties shall ensure that their competent authorities are
required to make available the information described in paragraph 2 of this Article to
any natural or legal person, in response to any reasonable request, without that person’s
having to prove an interest, without unreasonable charges, as soon as possible and at
the latest within two months.”
33
 Award of 2 July 2003, para. 137, available at http://www.pca-cpa.org.
862 philippe gautier

immunity has been arrested), the obligation is breached; with obliga-

tions of conduct, a breach occurs if the State does not adopt the
prescribed conduct. Whenever specific conduct is prescribed with a
view to preventing or ensuring a particular result or event, the State
cannot be held responsible for the simple reason that the result or event
did or did not occur. It has to be shown that there is a causal link
between the conduct of the State and the occurrence of the event.
That said, the utility of the distinction should not be overestimated,
a fact which may explain its omission from the articles adopted by the
ILC in 2001. In most instances, the wording of the obligation
concerned and its degree of precision–rather than its qualification as
an obligation of result or of conduct–will be the controlling factor in
assessing whether it has been breached. This is illustrated by the ques-
tion–classic in international law–whether the adoption of a law which
contains provisions incompatible with international law may in itself
constitute a breach of an obligation. As is often the case in legal matters,
the response to the question may vary and will depend more on the
content of the obligation than on its characterization by conduct
or result. If an obligation (of result) prescribes the adoption or repeal of
specific legislation,34 the absence of legislative action may be deemed to
constitute a breach. But a similar determination could also be made in
the case of an obligation (of conduct) which expressly requires the State
to adopt legislative measures with a view to ensuring a certain result.35
In other instances, i.e., where the obligation does not refer specifically
to legislative measures, the approach proposed by Ago in his 1977
report to the ILC may be a useful tool. The test is then to assess whether
a State is found to have failed in concreto to ensure the result required
by the obligation.36 This approach seems to be in line with some inter-
national decisions, for example in cases involving an alleged breach of

34
 Article 73 (3) of UNCLOS constitutes an example of such an obligation: “Coastal
State penalties for violations of fisheries laws and regulations in the exclusive economic
zone may not include imprisonment, in the absence of agreements to the contrary by
the States concerned, or any other form of corporal punishment.”
35
 See UNCLOS, Article 207 (1): “1. States shall adopt laws and regulations to pre-
vent, reduce and control pollution of the marine environment from land-based sources
[…].”
36
 See supra note 5, at 18: the “fact that a State […] has adopted a measure or, in
particular, that it has enacted a law constituting in abstracto an obstacle to the attain-
ment of the result required is not in itself a breach or even the beginning of a breach of
the obligation in question. A breach will exist only if the State is found to have failed in
concreto to ensure the said result.”
 classification of obligations in international law863

the obligation prohibiting the expropriation of private property of

foreigners without compensation37 or the obligation to respect the
immunity of a minister of foreign affairs38 or of a permanent observer
mission to the United Nations.39 In this matter, two additional factors
should be kept in mind. First, the potential to claim a breach of inter-
national law will depend largely on the clause providing for such a rem-
edy. For example, the scope of such a claim will be broader if it is based
on a provision under which a tribunal is empowered to deal with all
disputes arising from the application or interpretation of a convention
than if the provision envisages a tribunal the competence of which
is limited to deal with claims “for losses or damages suffered by persons
or by their properties”.40 Second, the adoption of legislative measures
could create a situation where compliance with the rule in concreto
would be neither possible nor plausible. For example, a State which has
adopted legislative measures introducing racial discrimination may be
expected to implement these measures after their promulgation; thus,
it would not seem justified to wait for an individual to suffer concrete
harm before claiming a breach. Pierre-Marie Dupuy suggests this
approach when he mentions that the adoption of legislation permitting
acts of torture could per se be considered a violation of the Convention
against torture and other cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or
punishment.41

37
 See the decision of 27 June 1933 by the United States-Panama General Claims
Commission in the case of Mariposa Development Company and others (United States)
v. Panama, which concerns the adoption of legislation under which private property
could be expropriated without compensation by judicial or executive action (see supra
note 5, at 17).
38
 In Arrest Warrant of 11 April 2000 (Democratic Republic of the Congo v. Belgium),
ICJ Reports 2002, 3, the main issue related to the issue of an arrest warrant regarding a
minister in function, which, according to the Court, constituted an “enforceable” act
enabling the arrest of the official concerned. See, in particular, para. 70.
39
 In Applicability of the Obligation to Arbitrate under Section 21 of the United Nations
Headquarters Agreement of 26 June 1947, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Reports 1988, 12, 30,
the Court did not seem to require a concrete breach of the obligation; it stated that
while “the existence of a dispute does presuppose a claim arising out of the behaviour
of or a decision by one of the parties, it in no way requires that any contested decision
must already have been carried into effect”. However, it will be noted that 1) the main
issue concerned the existence of a “dispute”, 2) the United States legislation was clearly
aimed at the expulsion of the permanent observer mission of the Palestine Liberation
Organization (PLO) in New York, and 3) implementing measures, in the form of
municipal court proceedings, had already been taken by the United States authorities.
40
United-States-Panama Claims Convention, 28 July 1926, Article 1, 6 RIAA 301
(1931).
41
Dupuy (note 2), at 384.
864 philippe gautier

C. Obligations Concerning the Treatment to be Accorded

to Persons and Obligations Directly Granted to States

It may be useful to take a look into another category of obligations

which is ancillary to the classification proposed by Ago. This relates to
obligations triggering application of the local remedies rule. More pre-
cisely, some obligations require that where a breach results in damage,
the victim must exhaust local remedies in the courts of the State alleged
to have committed the breach before an international claim can be sub-
mitted by the State of nationality of the victim. In this respect, Article
22 of the draft articles on State responsibility, adopted on first reading
by the ILC in 1977, provides that the local remedies rule is applicable
where “the conduct of a State has created a situation not in conformity
with the result required of it by an international obligation concerning
the treatment to be accorded to aliens […] but the obligation allows
that this or an equivalent result may nevertheless be achieved by subse-
quent conduct of the State”.42
Thus, Article 22 makes a distinction between obligations concerning
the treatment to be accorded to aliens43–and which require the exhaus-
tion of local remedies–and obligations which may be considered to
be granting rights or obligations directly to States. Incidentally, it will
be noted that, for Ago, the expression “obligations concerning the
treatment to be accorded to aliens” does not cover all obligations
intended to protect persons. First, it refers to obligations that leave the
State free to choose the means to be used in order to achieve a certain
result; and, second, it applies only to an obligation “which allows that
this or an equivalent result may nevertheless be achieved by subsequent
conduct of the State”.44 As examples Ago refers to instances where
treaties expressly specify that local remedies must be exhausted45 or to

42
Yearbook of the International Law Commission 1980, Vol. II, Part 2, UN Doc. A/
CN.4/Ser.A/1980/Add.l (Part 2) (1981), at 32.
43
 See supra note 5, at 6.
44
 Id., at 19: “Thus, when the initial conduct of an organ of the State has created a
situation incompatible with the result required by an international obligation, for that
situation itself not to be a complete and definitive breach of the obligation, three condi-
tions must be met: (a) the obligation itself must, in principle, give the State discretion
to pursue the achievement of the required result, even after a situation incompatible
with that result has been created by an action or omission of one of its organs; (b) the
required result must not in fact have become unattainable in consequence of that
action or omission; and (c) the internal legal system must not place any formal or real
obstacles in the way of subsequent efforts nevertheless to fulfil the obligation.”
45
 Id., at 11.
 classification of obligations in international law865

obligations prescribing general results, such as the obligation to guar-

antee to aliens equal treatment with nationals or to refrain from expro-
priating foreign property without indemnity.46
In the draft articles on diplomatic protection, adopted by the ILC in
2006, the approach was changed. The relevant provision of the draft
articles (Article 14 (3)) now states that local remedies must be exhausted
“where an international claim […] is brought preponderantly on the
basis of an injury to a national […]”.47 This new approach, centred on
the category of persons who have suffered injury rather than on the
nature of the obligation, does not necessarily clarify the matter. For
example, in the case of a claim involving the arrest of a ship on the high
seas and brought before a court on the basis of a breach of Article 9048
of UNCLOS, it could be maintained that the claim was brought pre-
ponderantly on the basis of an injury to a national, yet Article 90 of the
Convention expressly establishes a right granted to the flag State. Thus,
the claim could probably be viewed as mixed since it “contains ele-
ments of both injury to the State and injury to the nationals of the
State”.49 In such instances, the ILC admits that it will be “difficult to
decide whether the claim is ‘direct’ or ‘indirect’”.50 In order to solve this
problem, it proposes different criteria or tests: the preponderance test
(whether the claim is brought preponderantly on the basis of an injury
to a national), the sine qua non test (“whether the claim […] would
have been brought were it not for the claim on behalf of the injured
national”51), the subject of the dispute (“where the subject of the dis-
pute is a Government official, diplomatic official or State property the
claim will normally be direct”52), the nature of the claim and the rem-
edy claimed (“where the State seeks monetary relief on behalf of its
national as a private individual the claim will be indirect”53).
That said, the tests proposed do not seem entirely convincing. In the
case quoted above, which involves a breach of Article 90 of UNCLOS,
it is clear that no claim would exist if no ship had been arrested.

46
 See id.
47
 Report of the International Law Commission, UN GAOR 61st. Sess., Supp. 10,
UN Doc. A/61/10 (2006), at 71.
48
“Every State, whether coastal or land-locked, has the right to sail ships flying its
flag on the high seas.”
49
 See supra note 47, at 74.
50
 Id.
51
 Id., at 75.
52
 Id., at 76.
53
 Id.
866 philippe gautier

Nevertheless, the freedom of navigation is a right conferred upon States

by the very wording of Article 90. Likewise, in environmental cases
causing damage to a number of individuals and involving the liability
of a State (for breach of its obligation of due diligence or of its obliga-
tion, as a flag State, to take measures to ensure the safety at sea of ships
flying its flag54), it might be wondered whether, given the extent of the
damage caused to persons, the claim would be considered indirect and
would thus require the exhaustion of local remedies by the victims
before being moved to the international plane. In practice, this would
constitute an insurmountable obstacle to any access to an international
court.
The jurisprudence does not seem fully consistent with an approach
based on the category of persons who suffered injury. Certainly,
Elettronica Sicula S.p.A (ELSI) (United States of America v. Italy) is the
classic example of a claim for diplomatic protection. In this case, the
United States invoked a violation of the treaty concluded with Italy for
the protection of private investment as an autonomous breach in order
to avoid application of the local remedies rule. But this argument did
not convince the Chamber of the ICJ, which stated that it “has no doubt
that the matter which colours and pervades the United States claim as
a whole, is the alleged damage to Raytheon and Machlett, said to have
resulted from the actions of the Respondent. Accordingly, the Chamber
rejects the argument that in the present case there is a part of the
Applicant’s claim which can be severed so as to render the local reme-
dies rule inapplicable to that part.”55 The Court’s reasoning reflects the
ILC test, which is based on the status of the victim, but a similar view
could be adopted on the basis of the nature of the obligation allegedly
violated, since it is rather obvious that treaty provisions for the protec-
tion of investments do primarily concern the treatment to be accorded
to persons.
Nevertheless, the “injury” criterion does not seem to be used con-
sistently. In Avena and Other Mexican Nationals (Mexico v. United
States of America), Mexico invoked a breach of Article 36, para. 1 (b),
of the Vienna Convention on Consular Relations, which provides that
if a national of a State “is arrested or committed to prison or to custody
pending trial or is detained in any other manner”, and if he/she so

 See UNCLOS, Article 94.

54
55
Elettronica Sicula S.P.A. (ELSI), Judgment, ICJ Reports 1989, 15, 52.
 classification of obligations in international law867

requests, the local consular post of the sending State is to be notified.

On the face of it, the provision concerns the treatment of foreign
nationals and therefore should require application of the local reme-
dies rule. This is initially confirmed by the ICJ in its 2004 judgment in
the Avena case, where it observed “that the individual rights of Mexican
nationals under paragraph I (b) of Article 36 or the Vienna Convention
are rights which are to be asserted, at any rate in the first place, within
the domestic legal system of the United States. Only when that process
is completed and local remedies are exhausted would Mexico be enti-
tled to espouse the individual claims of its nationals through the proce-
dure of diplomatic protection.”56 However, the Court further stated
“that violations of the rights of the individual under Article 36 may
entail a violation of the rights of the sending State, and that violations
of the rights of the latter may entail a violation of the rights of the indi-
vidual. In these special circumstances of interdependence of the rights
of the State and of individual rights, Mexico may, in submitting a claim
in its own name, request the Court to rule on the violation of rights
which it claims to have suffered both directly and through the violation
of individual rights conferred on Mexican nationals under Article 36,
paragraph 1 (b). The duty to exhaust local remedies does not apply to
such a request.”57 In this case, which raises a life-or-death issue, it is dif-
ficult to consider that the injury was not caused preponderantly to a
private person. However, the Court’s position is justified to the extent
that it considers that the obligations established in the Vienna
Convention on Consular Relations are conceived as inter-State obliga-
tions, which, as indicated in the preamble to the Convention,58 are
intended primarily to ensure the development of friendly relations
among States parties.
In other instances, where the alleged violation relates to a right
granted directly to a State and where violation of that right causes dam-
age both to the State and to its nationals, it is difficult to understand

56
Avena and Other Mexican Nationals (Mexico v. United States of America),
Judgment, ICJ Reports 2004, 12, 35.
57
 Id., at 36.
58
 See the preamble of the Convention: “[…] Believing that an international conven-
tion on consular relations, privileges and immunities would also contribute to the
development of friendly relations among nations, irrespective of their differing consti-
tutional and social systems, Realizing that the purpose of such privileges and immuni-
ties is not to benefit individuals but to ensure the efficient performance of functions by
consular posts on behalf of their respective States […].”
868 philippe gautier

why the State could not claim reparation for itself and its nationals
without the need to exhaust local remedies. As early as the 1924 case of
the S.S. “Wimbledon” (France, Italy and Japan v. Germany), there were
indications in this direction. According to the decision of the Permanent
Court of International Justice (PCIJ), Germany, in prohibiting the pas-
sage of the “Wimbledon” through the Kiel Canal, had failed to comply
with Article 380 of the Treaty of Peace of Versailles59 and was therefore
“responsible for the loss occasioned by this refusal, and must compen-
sate the French Government, acting on behalf of the Company known
as ‘Les Affréteurs réunis’, which sustained the loss”.60
The local remedies rule was not, of course, invoked in this case, but
the issue of its application was addressed during the Case concerning
the Air Service Agreement of 27 March 1946 between the United States of
America and France,61 which concerned the interpretation of an agree-
ment granting Pan American World Airways, Inc. the right to operate
a service between the two countries. In its award, the arbitral tribunal,
referring to Article 22 of the then ILC draft articles on State responsi-
bility, considered that the right to conduct air services by a carrier
designated by one contracting party was a right “granted by one gov-
ernment to the other government”62 and that the local remedies rule
did not apply.
Likewise, in the M/V “SAIGA” (No. 2) (Saint Vincent and the
Grenadines v. Guinea), the International Tribunal for the Law of the
Sea, relying also on Article 22 of the draft articles on State responsibil-
ity, concluded that the claims submitted to it did not relate to “an
international obligation concerning the treatment to be accorded to
aliens” and therefore that the exhaustion of local remedies rule was not
applicable. For the Tribunal, “the rights which Saint Vincent and the
Grenadines claims have been violated by Guinea are all rights that
belong to Saint Vincent and the Grenadines under the Convention
(articles 33, 56, 58, 111 and 292) or under international law. […] None
of the violations of rights claimed by Saint Vincent and the Gren
adines […] can be described as breaches of obligations concerning the

59
“The Kiel Canal and its approaches shall be maintained free and open to the ves-
sels of commerce and war of all nations at peace with Germany on terms of entire
equality.”
60
Case of the S.S. “Wimbledon” (France, Italy and Japan v. Germany), PCIJ 1923,
Series A, No. 1, 30.
61
 Arbitral award of 9 December 1978, 18 RIAA 417.
62
 Id., at 432.
 classification of obligations in international law869

treatment to be accorded to aliens. They are all direct violations of the

rights of Saint Vincent and the Grenadines. Damage to the persons
involved in the operation of the ship arises from those violations.
Accordingly, the claims in respect of such damage are not subject to the
rule that local remedies must be exhausted.”63
We may conclude with a reference to the arbitral award in the case
concerning the Air Service Agreement of 27 March 1946 between the
United States of America and France, where the arbitral tribunal stated
that “rules of international law, though primarily conceived in terms of
conduct of and relationships between States, are ultimately concerned,
like all rules of law, with the reality of physical persons, objects and
activities in their interrelationship within human society”.64 It is, then,
logical that violation of the rights granted to States will often have an
impact on persons under their jurisdiction or in their territory. In this
context, it is difficult to comprehend the reasons for the view that inju-
ries caused to persons automatically constitute evidence of a breach of
obligations intended primarily to protect individuals. As further stated
by the arbitral tribunal, “the rule of international law relating to the
requirement of exhaustion of local remedies, when making a distinc-
tion between the State-to-State claims in which the requirement
applies, and claims which are not subject to such a requirement, must
necessarily base this distinction on the judicial character of the rela-
tionship between States which is invoked in support of the claim”.
Thus, there are grounds for considering that this distinction remains
valid and that it may still play a useful role in future international
litigation.

63
M/V “SAIGA” (No.2) (Saint Vincent and the Grenadines v. Guinea), Judgment,
ITLOS Reports 1999 10, 45–46. While the wording of Arts 33, 56, 58 and 292 of
UNCLOS confirms that they establish obligations towards or rights granted to States
Parties to the Convention, Article 111 is drafted differently; it refers to a State’s exercise
of the right of hot pursuit vis-à-vis “a foreign ship” and provides, in para. 8, that if the
right of hot pursuit was not properly exercised, the ship “shall be compensated for any
loss or damage that may have been thereby sustained”. In his separate opinion appended
to the judgment in M/V “SAIGA” (No.2) id. 108 at 109, Wolfrum, at that time Vice-
President of the Tribunal, took the view that the case involved “alleged violations of
rights of individuals”, as evidenced by the wording contained in Article 111 (8) of
UNCLOS. It is, however, possible to consider that this provision has an inter-State
character on the ground that it constitutes an exception to the right of navigation on
the high seas, a right clearly granted to the flag State under Article 90 of the Convention,
and to the right of that State to exercise its exclusive jurisdiction on the high seas over
ships flying its flag, as provided in Article 92 of the Convention.
64
 See supra note 61, at 431.
870 philippe gautier

D. Self-Executing Obligations

To complete this overview of some categories of international obliga-

tions, we will now turn to the notion of self-executing obligations (or
obligations with direct effect), i.e. obligations which may be invoked
directly by or against individuals before national courts, without
requiring implementation measures at the national level. Significant
effects derive from self-executing obligations. In particular, they ensure
the effective implementation of international obligations vis-à-vis indi-
viduals. For the purpose of this study, we will consider only self-
executing obligations based on treaties that have been regularly incor-
porated into the municipal legal order of the States concerned through
the fulfillment of constitutional requirements such as the approval of
Parliament.
Given the fact that the direct effect of international treaties is a ques-
tion which arises predominantly before national courts, the opinion
has sometimes been expressed that “[t]he question whether a treaty is
directly applicable is determined by domestic law and not by interna-
tional law”.65 However, there are several reasons for not sharing this
opinion. First, there are treaties which provide expressly for self-
executing obligations;66 second, the PCIJ, in its 1928 advisory opinion
in Jurisdiction of the Courts of Danzig, stated that certain treaty provi-
sions were self-executing;67 and, third, some municipal courts have
expressly affirmed that a treaty could create self-executing obligations
if this was the common intention of its drafters.68
On the assumption that the self-executing character of an obligation
is determined pursuant to international law, it is useful to refer briefly

65
K. Kaiser, Treaties, Direct Applicability, in: R. Wolfrum (ed.), Max Planck
Encyclopedia of Public International Law, available at http://www.mpepil.com (last
updated 2006).
66
 See Article 288 of the consolidated version of the Treaty establishing the European
Union: “A regulation shall have general application. It shall be binding in its entirety
and directly applicable in all Member States.” (Official Journal of the European Union,
C 83 of 30 March 2010).
67
Jurisdiction of the Courts of Danzig, Advisory opinion, PCIJ 1928, Series B,
No. 15, 4.
68
 See, for example, Supreme Court of the United States, opinion of 25 March 2008,
in Medellín v. Texas, 552 U.S. 491 (2008), at 8–9: “While treaties may comprise interna-
tional commitments […] they are not domestic law unless Congress has either enacted
implementing statutes or the treaty itself conveys an intention that it be ‘self-executing’
and is ratified on these terms.” See also Restatement (Third) of the Law–The Foreign
Relations Law of the United States, Vol. 1, § 111 and comment (h); Vol. 2, § 907.
 classification of obligations in international law871

to the first occurrence of this notion. In Jurisdiction of the Courts of

Danzig, the PCIJ was requested to determine whether the Danzig
Courts were competent to hear the actions submitted by railway
employees, who had passed from the service of the Free City of Danzig
into Polish service, in respect of pecuniary claims based on a Danzig-
Polish agreement (Beamtenabkommen) of 22 October 1921. The Court
first affirmed that, in principle, an international agreement “cannot, as
such, create direct rights and obligations for private individuals”.69
However, it admitted that there could be exceptions to this principle,
the decisive criterion being the intention of the drafters of the agree-
ment. In this respect, nothing prevents the parties to an agreement
from adopting “some definite rules creating individual rights and obli-
gations and enforceable by the national courts”.70 In order to ascertain
the intention of the parties to the Beamtenabkommen, the Court exam-
ined its wording and concluded that “its provisions are directly
applicable as between the officials and the Administration”.71 The
Beamtenabkommen did not expressly state that its provisions were self-
executing; the Court made its deduction on the basis of those provi-
sions, which were clear, similar to those included in public statutory
regulations applicable to civil servants which could be applied without
additional implementation measures.
International courts are seldom confronted with the existence of
self-executing obligations. This may easily be explained by the fact that
international litigation takes place between States and, in this context,
there is no compelling reason for questioning the direct effect of a par-
ticular obligation towards individuals. Recently, however, the question
of the existence of rights granted to individuals on the basis of treaty
provisions arose again, this time for the ICJ, in cases concerning
breaches of Article 36 of the 1963 Vienna Convention on Consular
Relations. This article provides that the receiving State must inform the
consular post of the sending State without delay of the detention of
one of its nationals if the detained person so requests. In LaGrand
(Germany v. United States of America), the Court stressed the clarity
of this provision and noted that “Article 36, paragraph 1, creates

69
 See supra note 67, at 17.
70
 Id., at 17–18.
71
 In so doing, the Court paid attention to several provisions “which were of such a
nature as to lead possibly to pecuniary claims” (at 18), in particular Arts 6 (a) and (b),
7, 11 and 12, as well as Article 4 of the Beamtenabkommen. For the text of the
Beamtenabkommen see Annex 2 to the opinion, at 37.
872 philippe gautier

individual rights”.72 In the Avena case, the Court added that “the
individual rights of Mexican nationals under […] Article 36 of the
Vienna Convention are rights which are to be asserted, at any rate in
the first place, within the domestic legal system of the United States”.73
Thus, the provision clearly creates individual rights which “are to be
asserted” before local courts. It is difficult, however, to see in the deci-
sion of the Court an affirmation that Article 36 is self-executing and
that it creates a right that a person could invoke directly before a
national court.
The role of the European Court of Justice (ECJ) in asserting the self-
executing character of certain provisions of European treaties is well
known and may be explained by the nature of European integration.
This does not imply, however, that the Court will necessarily develop a
similar approach with respect to treaties to which the European Union
is a party. On the contrary, its judgment of 3 June 2008 in referral pro-
ceedings concerning the compatibility of a European directive with,
inter alia, the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea,74
seems to indicate that the Court took a restrictive approach on the mat-
ter. It firmly rejected the possibility for private individuals to invoke the
provisions of the Convention, stating that it was directed to States and
noting that “individuals are in principle not granted independent rights
and freedoms by virtue of UNCLOS. In particular, they can enjoy the
freedom of navigation only if they establish a close connection between
their ship and a State which grants its nationality to the ship and
becomes the ship’s flag State. This connection must be formed under
that State’s domestic law.”75 In other words, it is only through the
medium of the flag State that individuals can be seen as exercising
rights under the Convention.76 Therefore, “it must be found
that UNCLOS does not establish rules intended to apply directly and

72
LaCrand (Germany v. United States of America), Judgment, ICJ Reports 2001,
466, 494.
73
Avena and Other Mexican Nationals (Mexico v. United States of America),
Judgment, ICJ Reports 2004, 12, 35.
74
Case C-308/06, International Association of Independent Tanker Owners
(Intertanko) et al. v. Secretary of State for Transport, available at http://curia.europa.eu.
75
 Id., para. 59.
76
 Id.; see also para. 61: “It is true that the wording of certain provisions of UNCLOS,
such as Articles 17, 110 (3) and 111(8), appears to attach rights to ships. It does not,
however, follow that those rights are thereby conferred on the individuals linked to
those ships, such as their owners, because a ship’s international legal status is depend-
ent on the flag State and not on the fact that it belongs to certain natural or legal
persons.”
 classification of obligations in international law873

immediately to individuals and to confer upon them rights or free-

doms capable of being relied upon against States, irrespective of the
attitude of the ship’s flag State”.77
This decision is rather surprising. True, during the proceedings, sev-
eral governments78 had taken the view that individuals were precluded
from relying on the Convention. But that position was swiftly rejected
by the Advocate-General on the grounds that it would contradict the
Court’s previous case law; in particular, she referred to the judgment in
the Poulsen case,79 where the Court had acknowledged that individuals
could rely on rules laid down in the 1982 Convention on the Law of the
Sea.80
It is perfectly reasonable to consider that UNCLOS contains primar-
ily provisions which confer rights and obligations only on States.
Likewise, it is logical to consider that provisions of the Convention
which appear to attach rights to ships (such as Arts 17, 110 (3) and 111
(8)) actually refer to the flag State of the vessel. However, this does not
constitute per se a reason to prevent individuals from invoking such
provisions before national courts. In the Poulsen and Diva Navigation
case, the ECJ simply used the Convention to affirm that, pursuant to
international law, a vessel was under the exclusive jurisdiction of its
flag State. That international norm was taken into account by the local
court in order to apply the law, including international law, to a par-
ticular situation. This is by no means exceptional; in practice, national
courts rely on international treaties, to which litigants may reasonably
draw their attention, without necessarily considering that a prior
requirement for such operation is that the international norm should
be self-executing. It should be noted, however, that in these “normal”
situations, the national court is not faced–as in the Intertanko case–
with a contradiction or incompatibility between an international norm
and national or European legislation.

77
 Id., para 64.
78
 See Case C-308/06, Opinion of Advocate General Kokott, para. 49, available at
http://curia.europa.eu.
79
Case C-286/90, Anklagemyndigheden v. Peter Michael Poulsen and Diva Navigation
Corp, 1992 ECR-I-6019. In this case, the court was asked “whether a prohibition on
fishing laid down in a Community fisheries regulation could be invoked in criminal
proceedings as against the Danish master of a Panamanian-registered vessel” (Case
C-308/06, opinion of Advocate General Kokott, see supra note 78, para. 50). The Court
“referred to the Convention on the Law of the Sea […] in order to establish that the
vessel concerned could be attributed solely to the flag State” (id.).
80
 See supra note 78, para. 50.
874 philippe gautier

In its decision, the ECJ fails to mention, however, that some provi-
sions of the Convention are clearly intended to protect persons. Arts 73
(3),81 230(1)82 and 97(1)83 belong to this category of obligations which
are likely to be invoked before municipal courts, in particular in cases
where their implementation may be problematic owing, for example,
to the existence of conflicting national regulations. In those circum-
stances, the question of the direct effect of the international norm vis-
à-vis municipal law becomes more relevant. As an illustration, Article
73 (2) of the Convention, which addresses situations in which vessels
are detained for fisheries offences in an exclusive economic zone (EEZ),
states that “[a]rrested vessels and their crews shall be promptly released
upon the posting of reasonable bond or other security”. Given the clear
wording of this provision, it could be argued that private persons
should be entitled to invoke the right established therein before local
courts, even in the absence of implementation measures by the State
concerned. In any event, if this were not possible, the consequence
would be that a prompt release procedure under Article 292 could be
submitted to ITLOS ten days after the detention of the vessel and its
crew.
It should not be concluded from the foregoing that all provisions
concerning individuals may be considered as self-executing; in that
regard, reference has been made to Arts 17, 110 (3) and 111 (8) of the
Convention.84 Another example concerns Article 228, which was
recently invoked in criminal proceedings brought in France against the
vessel Trans Arctic for pollution offences in the EEZ. Article 228
provides for the suspension of such proceedings “upon the taking of
proceedings to impose penalties in respect of corresponding charges
by the flag State”. Norway, as the flag State of the vessel, had in fact

81
“Coastal State penalties for violations of fisheries laws and regulations in the
exclusive economic zone may not include imprisonment, in the absence of agreements
to the contrary by the States concerned, or any other form of corporal punishment.”
82
“Monetary penalties only may be imposed with respect to violations of national
laws and regulations or applicable international rules and standards for the prevention,
reduction and control of pollution of the marine environment, committed by foreign
vessels beyond the territorial sea.”
83
“In the event of a collision or any other incident of navigation concerning a ship
on the high seas, involving the penal or disciplinary responsibility of the master or of
any other person in the service of the ship, no penal or disciplinary proceedings may
be instituted against such person except before the judicial or administrative authori-
ties either of the flag State or of the State of which such person is a national.”
84
 See supra (second-last of the preceding paragraphs).
 classification of obligations in international law875

instituted proceedings against the vessel and had requested France,

through the diplomatic channel, to apply Article 228 of the Convention.
During the oral proceedings, the respondent also requested the sus-
pension of the proceedings. In a decision of 27 September 2007, the
Appellate Court of Rennes stated that UNCLOS was a treaty contain-
ing obligations which were binding upon States and that it could not,
therefore, be applied directly by criminal courts.85 The Appellate Court
further observed that the conditions prescribed by Article 228 had
been met and declared the proceedings terminated. The wording of
Article 228 and, in particular, the fact that its application requires a
request by the flag State, which must then transmit a full dossier on the
case,86 seems to confirm that this provision is intended to be imple-
mented at the inter-State level.
A final illustration of the issues raised by self-executing obligations
before municipal courts relates to a case which was dealt with by the
courts of the United States of America in the aftermath of the 2004
judgment of the ICJ in the Avena case. In its judgment, the Court had
found that appropriate reparation “in this case consists in the obliga-
tion of the United States of America to provide, by means of its own
choosing, review and reconsideration of the convictions and sentences
of the Mexican nationals […]”.87 On the basis of this judgment, José
Ernesto Medellin, one of the Mexican nationals concerned, requested a
review of his case. The claim was denied and subsequently brought
before the United States Supreme Court, which, on 25 March 2008,88
rejected it on the ground that the decisions of the ICJ were not self-
executing. According to the Supreme Court, neither the Charter of the
United Nations nor the Optional Protocol to the Vienna Convention

85
 Appelate Court of Rennes, 27 September 2007, vessel Trans Arctic, N° 1742/2007,
Le Droit Maritime Français, at 36–42 (2008). The judgment of the Appelate Court was
upheld by the Cour de Cassation in a decision dated 5 May 2009, see Bulletin des
arrêts, Chambre criminelle, 5, No 85.
86
 Article 228 (1): “The flag State shall in due course make available to the State
previously instituting proceedings a full dossier of the case and the records of the pro-
ceedings, whenever the flag State has requested the suspension of proceedings in
accordance with this article.”
87
 See supra note 73, at 72.
88
 See supra note 68. On 5 August 2008, the Supreme Court denied a new request for
review, submitted by José Ernesto Medellín Rojas on the basis of provisional measures
indicated by the ICJ in its Order of 16 July 2008 (Request for Interpretation of the
Judgment of 31 March 2004 in the Case concerning Avena and Other Mexican Nationals
(Mexico v. United States of America) (Mexico v. United States of America), Provisional
Measures, Order, 16 July 2008, ICJ Reports 2008, 311).
876 philippe gautier

on Consular Relations indicated that the intention of the parties to

those instruments was to confer direct effect to decisions of the Court.
In its view, this “reading is confirmed by Article 94 (2)–the enforce-
ment provision–which provides the sole remedy for noncompliance:
referral to the U. N. Security Council by an aggrieved state. The provi-
sion of an express diplomatic rather than judicial remedy is itself
evidence that ICJ judgments were not meant to be enforceable in
domestic courts.”
What makes this case even more interesting is the fact that the ICJ
had an opportunity to clarify its position on the matter. On 5 June
2008, Mexico submitted to the Court a request for interpretation of its
2004 judgment on the question whether para. 153 (9) of the judgment
expressed an obligation of result,89 and therefore whether the United
States would commit a violation if the cases of the Mexican nationals
concerned were not reviewed. During the proceedings, the United
States maintained that it shared Mexico’s view that the obligation con-
tained in the ICJ judgment was an obligation of result, arguing that
there was no divergence of views between the parties and the case
should thus be dismissed. Although not expressly stated by Mexico,90
the real issue concerned the possibility for individuals to invoke the
direct effect of the 2004 judgment before municipal courts. For the
United States, the ICJ was not competent to address this question,
which was “strictly a matter of United States domestic law”.91 In its
judgment of 19 January 2009, the Court observed that its 2004 deci-
sion, while prescribing a clear obligation of result, “nowhere lays down
or implies that the courts in the United States are required to give direct
effect to paragraph 153 (9)”92 of the judgment in the Avena case. Since
this question was not decided by the Court in 2004, and since its juris-
diction was limited to the interpretation of the terms of its 2004 judg-
ment, the Court had to decline to entertain the case.
In para. 44 of its 2009 judgment, the ICJ notes that its 2004 judgment
does not “prevent direct enforceability of the obligation in question, if
such an effect is permitted by domestic law”. This statement does not
imply that determination of the direct effect of an obligation is, in

89
Request for Interpretation of the Judgment of 31 March 2004 in the Case concerning
Avena and Other Mexican Nationals (Mexico v. United States of America) (Mexico v.
United States of America), Judgment, 19 January 2009, para. 12, available at http://
www.icj-cij.org.
90
 See id., para. 41.
91
 Id., para. 25.
92
 Id., para. 44.
 classification of obligations in international law877

principle, left to municipal law; its relevance is limited to the 2004

judgment, which was not self-executing. That the Court had no inten-
tion of giving direct effect to its 2004 judgment may be ascertained
from the fact that it stated that the obligation imposed upon the United
States was to be performed “by means of its own choosing”93 and that
“the Judgment leaves it to the United States to choose the means of
implementation, not excluding the introduction within a reasonable
time of appropriate legislation, if deemed necessary under domestic
constitutional law”.94 But this does not exclude the possibility that in
future cases the Court may decide that its decisions will be self-
executing. Certainly, doubts may be expressed as to its competence to
do so, but if we leave this question open for the time being, we may
recognize that a direct effect could, for example, have been obtained in
the Avena case by including in the operative part of the judgment a
clear statement that the State and its competent authorities were under
the obligation to review the convictions and sentences of foreign
nationals.
Incidentally, the Avena judgment raises an additional question relat-
ing to the enforceability of the decisions of international courts and
tribunals.95 The safest approach is to regulate the matter by law; this is,
for example, the solution adopted with respect to the decisions of
the ITLOS Seabed Disputes Chamber, which, by virtue of Article 39
of the Statute of the Tribunal, “shall be enforceable in the territories of
the States Parties in the same manner as judgments or orders of the
highest court of the State Party in whose territory the enforcement is
sought”. In the absence of such a clause, the execution of international
decisions must be handled by national courts seized of a request to that
end. It might be considered that execution of the decisions of interna-
tional courts should be dealt with in a similar way, as in the case
of arbitral awards or judgments of foreign courts, in accordance with
the applicable rules of international private law.96 This may lead to

93
Para. 153 (9) of the Judgment of 2004 (see supra note 87). Similarly in the Arrest
Warrant of 11 April 2000 (Democratic Republic of the Congo v. Belgium), Judgment,
ICJ Reports 2002, 3, 33, the ICJ decided that Belgium had to cancel the arrest warrant
“by means of its own choosing”.
94
 See supra note 89, para. 44.
95
On the matter see, e.g., R. Jennings, The Judicial Enforcement of International
Obligations, 47 Zeitschrift für ausländisches öffentliches Recht und Völkerrecht 3
(1987); F. Palombino, Les arrêts de la Cour internationale de justice devant le juge
interne, 51 Annuaire français de droit international 121 (2005).
96
 Regarding the enforcement in the USA of awards rendered by the Iran-US Claims
Tribunal pursuant to the 1958 New York Convention on the Recognition and
878 philippe gautier

procedural difficulties, as evidenced by the case of Socobel v. The

Greek State,97 in which a Belgian court, in proceedings relating to
garnishee orders obtained by a Belgian company seeking execution of
a decision of the PCIJ, held that the plaintiff company could not “yet
be considered to have recovered an executory judgment for the pur-
pose of obtaining the attached sums”.98 The reasons given for the
decision were that no exequatur to the judgment had been given in
Belgium and that the judgment was not, strictly speaking, in favour of
the company since the latter had not been a party to the case before the
PCIJ.
Another approach,99 probably more convincing, is based on the
fact that international judgments are binding international norms pur-
suant to an agreement between the States parties to the dispute to have
recourse to international proceedings. Therefore, the judgment should
have binding force comparable to that of an international agreement.
Under these circumstances, the direct effect of an international
judgment could be a result achieved by the international court through
the insertion of clear terms expressing such an intention. It would
probably be expected that the court would render a self-executing
international judgment only where its judgment related to the imple-
mentation of self-executing obligations. For example, in prompt release
proceedings under Article 292 of UNCLOS, para. 4 of the article pro-
vides that “[u]pon the posting of the bond or other financial security
determined by the court or tribunal, the authorities of the detaining
State shall comply promptly with the decision of the court or tribunal
concerning the release of the vessel or its crew”. This clear provision
might be considered as directly requiring the competent authorities of
the State concerned to order the release of the vessel without further
conditions.

Enforcement of Foreign Arbitral Awards see A. Marossi, An Overview of the Iran-

United States Claims Tribunal 25th anniversary, 3 Transnational Dispute Management,
issue 2 (2006).
97
“Socobel” v. Greek State, civ. Trib. Brussels, 30 April 1951, 18 International Law
Reports, 3 (1951). See S. Rosenne, The Law and Practice of the International Court,
1920–2005, Vol. I, at 213–218 (4th ed. 2006).
98
 Id., at 5.
99
 See A. Giardina, La mise en œuvre au niveau national des arrêts et des décisions
internationaux, 165 Collected Course of The Hague Academy of International Law
233, at 252 (1979); A. El Ouali, La sentence internationale directement applicable, in:
D. Bardonnet (note 3), at 269.
 classification of obligations in international law879

E. Conclusion

This overview of the legal effects which derive from various categories
of obligations reveals the richness and multiplicity of the notion of
“obligation” in international law, which clearly justifies further consid-
eration of its potential in a more comprehensive and systematic man-
ner. For the purpose of this paper three categories of obligations have
been examined. As regards the distinction between obligations of result
and obligations of conduct, we have observed that the usefulness of the
distinction is to indicate that breaches of each category of obligations
must be assessed in a specific manner. The distinction between obliga-
tions concerning the treatment of persons and obligations granting
direct rights to States, while not reflected in the final text of the
International Law Commission’s draft articles on diplomatic relations,
remains a practical tool in determining whether the local remedies rule
should apply. With respect to self-executing obligations, we have seen
that the direct effect, in municipal law, of international obligations is a
question which is ultimately determined by international law. These
obligations, although relatively rare in the international sphere, may
nevertheless play a crucial role in promoting effective compliance with
the rule of law.
 Conceptualizing Global Natural Resources:
global Public Goods Theory and International
Legal Concepts

Ellen Hey*

“The development of general concepts like the freedom of the high seas
or the common heritage principle reflects the spirit of a given historic
period.”1

A. Introduction

Just after the turn of the century my attention was drawn to a discus-
sion involving the concept of “global public goods” (GPGs), initiated
by economists supported by the United Nations Development
Programme (UNDP)2 and later taken up by the World Bank.3 I queried
what the concept of GPGs implied for the management of natural
resources in which international or global society is deemed to have an
interest, i.e. global natural resources, and how it relates to legal con-
cepts which have sought to conceptualize such resources. Relevant
legal concepts are the freedom of the high seas developed by Grotius
during the early 17th century, the common heritage of mankind intro-
duced to the United Nations General Assembly in 1967 by Arvid Pardo
on behalf of Malta, the ban on Antarctic mineral resources activities

* I thank Raveen Moenesar and Jamaal Mohuddy, student assistants, for helping me
collect the materials for this essay. The usual disclaimer applies.
1
 R. Wolfrum, The Principle of the Common Heritage of Mankind, 43 Zeitschrift
für ausländisches öffentliches Recht und Völkerrecht 312, at 312 (1983).
2
 I. Kaul/I. Grunberg/M. A. Stern (eds.), Global Public Goods, International
Cooperation in the 21st Century (1999) (Kaul et al. 1999); I. Kaul/P. Conceição/K. le
Goulven/R. U. Mendoza (eds.), Providing Global Public Goods, Managing
Globalization (2003) (Kaul et al. 2003) and I. Kaul/P. Conceição (eds.), The New Public
Finance, Responding to Global Challenges (2006) (Kaul et al. 2006). Also see http://
www.undp.org/globalpublicgoods.
3
World Bank, Global Public Goods: A Framework for the Role of the World Bank,
28 September 2007, available at http://siteresources.worldbank.org/INTEDS14/
Resources/GLOBALPUBLICGOODS.pdf. Also see http://go.worldbank.org/7XUN
86PV10.
882 ellen hey

contained in the 1991 Protocol on Environmental Protection to the

Antarctic Treaty, and the common concern of mankind included in,
among other treaties, the 1992 United Framework Convention on
Climate Change (UNFCCC).4
This essay first proceeds to explore the concept of GPGs. It thereafter
analyses the abovementioned legal concepts. Finally, it addresses how
conceptualizations of global natural resources have changed over time.
This essay also engages with some of the writings of Rüdiger Wolfrum,
who has written prolifically, and stimulated others to write, on interna-
tional law and common interest problems, both in general5 and in rela-
tion to the use of natural resources.6

B. GPG Theory

GPG theory originated in the efforts of a UNDP-based group headed

by Inge Kaul.7 It was subsequently taken up by France and Sweden,
which established the International Task Force on Global
Public Goods,8 and, as mentioned, by the World Bank.9 Since then
numerous publications have appeared on the topic.10 Kaul, now an

4
 Also see J. Brunnée, Common Areas, Common Heritage and Common Concern,
in: D. Bodansky/J. Brunnée/E. Hey (eds.), The Oxford Handbook of International
Environmental Law (2007).
5
 See e.g. R. Wolfrum, Solidarity Amongst States: An Emerging Structural Principle
of International Law, in: P. M. Dupuy/B. Fassbender/M. Shaw/K. P. Sommermann
(eds.), Common Values in International Law, 1087 (2006); R. Wolfrum, Legitimacy in
International Law, in: A. Reinisch/U. Kriebaum (eds.), The Law of International
Relations, 471 (2007); R. Wolfrum/V. Röben (eds.), Legitimacy in International Law
(2008); R. Wolfrum/C. Kojima (eds.), Solidarity: A Structural Principle of International
Law (2010).
6
 See other publications referred to in this essay and in particular R. Wolfrum, Die
Internationalisierung staatsfreier Räume: die Entwicklung einer internationalen
Verwaltung für Antarktis, Weltraum, Hohe See und Meeresboden (The internationali-
zation of Common spaces outside national jurisdiction: the development of an interna-
tional administration for Antarctica, Outer Space, High Seas and the Deep Sea-Bed)
(1984), originating in Wolfrum’s Habilitationsschrift 1980.
7
 See supra note 2 for relevant publications.
8
The Task Force was active between 2001 and 2005. For further information see
K. le Goulven, The International Task Force on Global Public Goods, Swiss Federal
Department of Foreign Affairs (2005), available at http://www.isn.ethz.ch/isn/Digital
-Librar y/Publications/Detail/?ots591=4888caa0-b3db-1461-98b9
-e20e7b9c13d4&lng=en&id=111306.
9
 See supra note 3.
10
For a list of publications see http://sdnhq.undp.org/gpgn/r-environment.php.
Also see J. E. Stiglitz, Making Globalization Work (2006). Stiglitz, without making the
 conceptualizing global natural resources883

adjunct professor at the Hertie School of Governance in Berlin, contin-

ues to develop GPG theory.11 While GPG theory explicitly relates to
economic theory, Samuelson’s pure theory of public expenditure in
particular,12 it also includes insights from other disciplines, in particu-
lar political science and political economy.13 GPG theory, which also
addresses issues of distributive justice, then, does not aim to be a pure
economic theory, even if it initially relied heavily on Samuelson’s work,
which is one of the main reasons it has been criticized by
economists.14
GPG theory, based on Samuelson’s work, initially argued that
because certain goods are non-excludable and non-rival,15 even if
imperfectly so, they are GPGs.16 GPG theory in its more recent mani-
festation asserts that received economic theory on public goods
requires revision in view of the processes of privatization and dena-
tionalization. Received economic theory is criticized on two accounts,
in particular.
First, non-rivalry and non-excludability are not adequate predictors
of publicness, especially because these are not natural qualities of the
goods in question. Instead non-rivalry and non-excludability may or
may not account for the publicness of goods. Publicness, or privateness

notion of global public goods the point of departure for his analysis, uses premises
similar to those used in GPG-theory.
11
 I. Kaul, From a Social-Constructivist Conceptualization to the Triangle of
Publicness: Efficient and Legitimate Provision of Global Public Goods, 2009 REFGOV
Working Paper Series GPS-5, available at http://www.ingekaul.net/research.
12
 P. A. Samuelson, The Pure Theory of Public Expenditure, 36 Review of Economic
Statistics 387 (1954). Samuelson’s theory states that certain goods are non-excludable
and non-rival and therefore warrant government expenditure for their efficient man-
agement, because the market will not result in the efficient provision of these goods.
Samuelson’s theory does not engage with issues of distributive justice.
13
Kaul et al. 1999 (note 2), at xxiii–xxiv.
14
 See e.g. J. Coussy, The Adventure of a Concept: is neo-classical theory suitable for
defining global public goods?, 12 Review of International Political Economy 177, at
182–184 (2005) and D. Long/F. Woolley, Global Public Goods: Critique of a UN
Discourse, 15 Global Governance 107, at 114–117 (2009). For a view in support of
GPG-theory, see A. Sandmo, The Welfare Economics of Global Public Goods,
Discussion Paper (2007), available at http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract
_id=1550703.
15
“Non-excludable” entails that it is impossible to exclude someone from consum-
ing a good. “Non-rival” entails that one person’s consumption of a good does not limit
the ability of others to consume the same good. Perfect public goods have both these
qualities, and such goods are few and far between. A lighthouse and air are examples.
16
 I. Kaul/I. Grundberg/M. A. Stern, Defining Global Public Goods, in: Kaul et al.
1999 (note 2), 2, at 3–5.
884 ellen hey

for that matter, is regarded as the result of political choice. GPG theory
in its present form contends that the process of globalization results in
externalities–both good and bad–which are borne by individuals and
groups in states other than the state where a certain action is engaged
in and where the benefits are reaped. Regarding the goods involved as
regional or global public goods, depending on the geographic extent of
the externalities, would enable the internalization of those externalities
and would facilitate addressing the free rider problem and the under-
production of global public goods and overproduction of global public
“bads”. It also contends that we lack proper policy mechanisms for
addressing the use of global public goods. Such mechanisms involve
transboundary (regional or global) cooperation between various
actors, including states, and the integration of regional and global con-
siderations into national policies, thus allowing for policy pluralism
which recognizes the diversity of conditions around the world.17
Secondly, GPG theory in its present form contends that public
goods, including global public goods, are not exclusively provided by
states; instead they are supplied by a variety of actors, including the
private sector. GPG advocates therefore argue for the inclusion of the
political decision-making processes in a theory of global public goods
so as to reveal who makes the choices, why they are made and who
benefits.18 GPG theory, furthermore, identifies three dimensions to
publicness–consumption, decision-making and distribution of bene-
fits–the so-called triangle of publicness. Kaul argues that in an ideal
situation the degree to which consumption is non-exclusive and thus
public (of the good or bad externalities) across individuals and groups
(stakeholders) should be matched by the degree to which decision-
making and the distribution of (net) benefits is public. If the match is
made, Kaul contends, the outcomes are likely to be efficient and fair
and stakeholders are likely to assess such outcomes as legitimate.19 The
multilateral trade regime is referred to as an example where there is a
mismatch between the three dimensions of publicness. In this case all
states consume the externalities (good or bad) of decisions taken within
the World Trade Organization (WTO) and all members of the WTO

17
 I. Kaul/R. U. Mendoza, in: Kaul et al. 2003 (note 2), 78, at 103 and I. Kaul/P.
Conceição/K. le Goulven/R. U. Mendoza, Why do Public Goods Matter Today?, in:
Kaul et al. 2003 (note 2), 2, at 10–13.
18
Kaul (note 11).
19
 Id., at 12–13.
 conceptualizing global natural resources885

formally equally participate in decision-making (the one state one

vote system). However, most developing states do not share equally in
the net benefits which the regime generates, nor do they in practice
have equal input into the decision-making process.20 In the field of nat-
ural resources an example might be the freedom of fishing on the high
seas. While all states, and their fishers, may consume the externalities
of the regime (including depletion of stocks), and all fishing states are
entitled to participate in decision-making, those states, and fishers,
who have access to advanced fishing technology accrue more of the net
benefits which the freedom of fishing generates. This is so even if they
may well generate a large proportion of the negative externalities, i.e.
depleted fish stocks, which they, as opposed to small-scale fishers, may
be able to avoid by moving to new fishing grounds.
Candidates for GPG status are peace and security, stable financial
relations, market efficiency, health, education, cultural goods, environ-
mental sustainability, and knowledge and information. A large number
of natural resources and their sustainable use thus qualify as either
global or regional public goods. Developing mechanisms to address
GPGs and making available the necessary financial means to imple-
ment them, GPG advocates argue, provides a way of addressing global
crises, such as the financial crisis, the poverty crisis and the environ-
mental crisis.
Besides being criticized by economists,21 GPG theory has received
lukewarm support in policy circles, with some developed states and
many developing states questioning the theory in relation to addition-
ality. Developing states claim that the financial resources employed to
realize global public goods should be additional to development aid,
while many developed states question this position. In addition, devel-
oping states have raised questions regarding their representation in
international decision-making processes which relate to GPGs.22 GPG
theory, moreover, has been criticized for overly abstracting GPGs,
thereby avoiding real-world problems, hiding theoretical frailty and
providing ideological cover.23 It has, for example, been argued that

20
 I. Kaul/R. U. Mendoza, Advancing the Concept of Public Goods, in: Kaul et al.
2003 (note 2), 78, at 102.
21
 See supra note 14.
22
M. Carbone, Supporting or Resisting Global Public Goods?, The Policy Dimension
of a Contested Concept, 13 Global Governance 179 (2007).
23
 Long/Woolley (note 14), at 111.
886 ellen hey

GPG theory does not address questions such as whose interests are
protected if economic stability is what is being sought.24 However, the
triangle of publicness, developed by Kaul in a 2009 paper, may serve to
address such questions.25
GPG theory, then, conceptualizes a variety of natural resources, both
those located within areas where states exercise sovereignty or jurisdic-
tion and those located in the global commons as GPGs. It suggests that
relevant resource management regimes, irrespective of whether they
involve a single state or a cooperative endeavour by several or all states,
should take into account the externalities which improper manage-
ment may give rise to. In addition, GPG theory advocates that burdens
and benefits be shared equitably not only by states, but also amongst
individuals and groups in society, including the private sector.
Moreover, these actors should also participate in decision-making in
relevant regimes. GPG theory, then, normatively regards states as func-
tional actors which are to act in the general interest, which includes the
development of (international) legal regimes which address the private
sector.

C. Legal Concepts Relating to Global Natural Resources

How do the legal concepts referred to in the introduction relate to non-

excludability and non-rivalry, benefit and burden sharing and how do
they address externalities? What legal implications are drawn from the
identification of a natural resource as global in nature? What roles are
attributed to states, their cooperative endeavours and the private sec-
tor? These questions will be considered in this section.

I. Grotius–Freedom of the High Seas

Grotius, in Mare Liberum,26 using different language, considered the
oceans and the fish therein beyond the territorial sea to be non-rival
and non-excludable and concluded that they should be regarded
as common goods and that therefore there should be freedom of access
to them. He constructed his argument on the basis of an analysis of

24
 Id., at 112.
25
Kaul (note 11).
26
 H. Grotius, The Freedom of the Seas (English translation by G. L. Williams/
R. Van Deman), in: R. Feenstra (ed.), Hugo Grotius Mare Liberum 1609–2009 (2009).
 conceptualizing global natural resources887

property law in various legal systems, from which he drew two

conclusions.
“The first runs as follows: those things which are incapable of being occu-
pied, or which never have been occupied, cannot be private property of
any owner, since all property has its origin in occupation. The second
inference may be stated thus: all those things which have been so consti-
tuted by nature that, even when used by a specific individual, they never-
theless suffice for general use by other persons without discrimination,
retain to-day and should retain for all time that status which character-
ized them when they first sprang from nature.”27
Grotius then goes on to state that the air meets these standards, as does
the sea, “since it is so vast that no one could possibly take possession of
it, and since it is fitted for use by all, with reference to purposes of navi-
gation and to purposes of fishing”.28 Grotius thus refers to the non-
excludable29 and non-rival30 nature of certain goods to argue for the
common good status of the high seas and the fish therein. In so doing
he distinguishes between the sea itself and the fish in the sea, which he,
respectively, designates as common in a positive sense and common in
a private sense, due to the fact that, even if a common good, fish, as
opposed to the sea, can be appropriated.31 Grotius further argues that
occupation of the sea is “impermissible both in the natural order and
for reasons of public utility”32 and adds the following.
“If anyone in so great a sea should cut off from the common domain, and
reserve for himself, nothing more than navigation and dominion, he
would nevertheless be regarded as a seeker after immoderate power; if he
should forbid others to fish therein, he would not escape the stigma of
monstrous cupidity; but what shall we say of one who obstructs even
navigation upon those waters, despite the fact that he himself would suf-
fer no loss in consequence of such navigation?”33
When referring to Ovid’s use of the term “public”, Grotius places
that term in the context of the law of nations. Grotius states that Ovid

27
 Id., at 60–61.
28
 Id., at 63.
29
 I.e. “since it is so vast that no one could possibly take possession of it, and since it
is fitted for the use by all”.
30
 I.e. “even when used by a specific individual, they nevertheless suffice for general
use by other persons without discrimination”.
31
 Grotius (note 26), at 65.
32
 Id., at 79.
33
 Id., at 83.
888 ellen hey

uses the term “public” not to refer to “those things which pertain to a
particular nation, but those which pertain to the whole of society of
mankind, which by [Roman] laws are called ‘public by the law of
nations’”.34
Grotius’ argument is ultimately based on the vastness of the oceans
and the availability of fish, even if he recognizes that “it may be main-
tained that the supply of fish is, in a sense, exhaustible”.35 He, however,
also grounds his argument in the inalienable rights of men,36 even if he
ultimately raises it in the inter-state, or inter-nation, context.37 Grotius
then regards states as functional actors, which is not entirely surpris-
ing, given that Mare Liberum was a memorandum written for the
Dutch East India Company, a private company, even if with strong ties
to Dutch public authorities of the time.
Grotius, based on what he deemed to be inexhaustible resources,
advocates the free and unregulated use of those resources. As we now
know, this manner of proceeding has had devastating consequences for
marine fish stocks,38 and international regulation of shipping was intro-
duced, among other reasons, to protect the marine environment from
vessel source pollution.39 In particular the persistence of the concept of
the freedom of fishing is remarkable. Even if geographically signifi-
cantly restricted by the introduction of the 200 nautical mile exclusive
economic zone, the freedom of fishing continues to govern high seas
fishing activities, despite attempts to curtail its effects.40
Comparing Grotius’ argument to the initial GPG argument, it
is remarkable that they use the same arguments, but come to diametri-
cally opposed conclusions. Grotius argues that because goods are
non-excludable and non-rival they should be regarded as common
goods, and that therefore there should be freedom of access. GPG
advocates initially argued that because goods are non-excludable and

34
 Id., at 63.
35
 Id., at 93.
36
 Id., at 5–15.
37
 Id., starting at bottom of 15.
38
 See FAO, State of World Fisheries and Agriculture, at 7 (2008): “Overall, 80 per-
cent of the world fish stocks for which assessment information is available are reported
as fully exploited or overexploited and, thus, requiring effective and precautionary
management.”
39
For an overview see R. Wolfrum/V. Röben/F. L. Morrison, Preservation of the
Marine Environment, in: F. L. Morrison/R. Wolfrum (eds.), International, Regional
and National Environmental Law, 225 (2000).
40
 See R. G. Rayfuse, Non-Flag State Enforcement in High Seas Fisheries (2004).
 conceptualizing global natural resources889

non-rival, even if imperfectly so, they should be regarded as GPGs and

that therefore access should be regulated and benefits and burdens
shared.

II. Pardo–the Common Heritage of Mankind

By way of a note verbale dated 17 August 1967 Malta requested the UN
General Assembly to consider the topic “Declaration and treaty con-
cerning the reservation exclusively for peaceful purposes of the sea-
bed and the ocean floor underlying the seas beyond the limits of present
national jurisdiction, and the use of the resources in the interest of
mankind”.41 Arvid Pardo, the then representative of Malta, introduced
the proposal.42
With respect to the sea-bed and ocean floor beyond the territorial
sea and continental shelf, the note verbal contended that, given techno-
logical developments, these areas might become the object of national
appropriation and use by developed states which had access to the
required technology. It suggested that this might result “in the exploita-
tion and depletion of resources of immense potential benefit to the
world, for the national advantage of technologically developed coun-
tries”.43 The note went on to argue that therefore the sea-bed and ocean
floor should be declared the common heritage of mankind, should not
be subject to national jurisdiction, used for peaceful purposes only
and that their resources should be exploited “with the aim of safeguard-
ing the interests of mankind” with the “net financial benefits derived
from the use and exploitation of the sea-bed and the ocean floor” to “be
used primarily to promote the development of poor countries”.44 In
addition, it proposed that a treaty including these principles be adopted,
and that this treaty also establish an international agency which would
“assume jurisdiction, as a trustee for all countries, over the sea-bed and
ocean floor, beyond national jurisdiction”, “regulate, supervise and
control all activities in the area” and “ensure that the activities under-
taken conform to the principles and provisions of the proposed treaty”.45

41
 UN Doc. A/6695 (1967).
42
 UN GAOR 22nd Sess., First Committee, 1515th meeting (UN Doc. A/C.1/
PV.1515) and 1516th meeting (UN Doc. A/C.1/PV.1516) (1967). Also see R. Wolfrum,
Common Heritage of Mankind, in: R. Wolfrum (ed.), Max Planck Encyclopedia of
Public International Law (2008), available at www.mpepil.com and Wolfrum (note 1).
43
 See supra note 41, para. 2.
44
 Id., para. 3.
45
 Id., para. 4.
890 ellen hey

Pardo in his speech to the General Assembly points to the potential

wealth of resources to be found on and in the sea-bed and ocean floor,
the dangers of military use of the sea-bed and the risks posed by marine
pollution, in particular if the storage of radio-active wastes were to
become a reality, a topic which was at the time the subject of discussion
in the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA). He makes the
point that “current international law encourages the appropriation of
this vast area by those who have the technical competence”46 and that
such appropriation might well lead to conflict and endanger the free-
dom of the high seas.47 Pardo also explains why a special agency, instead
of the United Nations, should administer the regime. He points out
that “it is hardly likely that those countries that have already developed
a technical capability to exploit the ocean floor would agree to an inter-
national régime if it were administered by a body where small states,
such as mine, have the same voting power as the United States or the
Soviet Union”.48 The specialized agency would issue licences and levy
taxes and was estimated to raise US $ 6,000 million in gross annual
income five years after its establishment, with US $ 5,000 million
becoming available annually for development aid to be distributed
directly or through the United Nations Development Programme.49 In
addition, the agency would also have the overall responsibility for con-
trolling marine pollution, even if it were to do so in close cooperation
with other UN specialized agencies, such as the International Maritime
Organization.50 Conceptually, Pardo thus envisaged the principle of the
common heritage of mankind as extending beyond the exploitation of
the resources of the sea-bed and ocean floor,51 to include issues of
marine pollution.
The General Assembly on 18 December 1967 unanimously adopted
Resolution 2340 (xxii) establishing the Ad Hoc Committee to Study the
Peaceful Uses of the Sea-bed and the Ocean Floor beyond the Limits of
national Jurisdiction. In doing so it set in motion a process which
eventually led to the convening of the Third United Nations Conference

46
 See supra note 42 (1515th meeting), para. 90.
47
 Id., para. 91.
48
 See supra note 42 (1516th meeting), para. 7.
49
 Id., para. 9.
50
 Id., para. 10.
51
 Also see A. Pardo/C. Q. Christol, The Common Interest: Tension Between the
Whole and the Parts, in: R. St. J. Macdonald/M. Johnston (eds.), The Structure and
Process of International Law, 643, at 654 (1986).
 conceptualizing global natural resources891

on the Law of the Sea and the adoption of the 1982 United Nations
Convention on the Law of the Sea (LOS Convention).52 The LOS
Convention in its Article 136 declares that the “Area and its resources
are the common heritage of mankind”53, and in its Part XI introduced
a regime for regulated access to the mineral resources of the Area,
a system for benefit and burden sharing and established the International
Seabed Authority (ISA) and the Seabed Enterprise. Part XI of the
LOS Convention, moreover, directly engages with mining companies
by establishing a licensing and taxation system to be administered by
the ISA.54 Burdens were to be shared in the sense that developed states
and their mining companies committed themselves to investing
in deep seabed mining also on behalf of developing states, which would
participate in such mining and in the benefits to be derived from
those activities both directly and through the Seabed Enterprise.
This regime was put on hold by the 1994 Agreement relating to
the Implementation of Part XI of the United Nations Convention on
the Law of the Sea of 10 December 1982, which facilitated the entry
into force of the LOS Convention in 1994 but also prevented its
­inno­vative deep seabed mining regime from being implemented in
practice.55
Relating Arvid Pardo’s conceptualization to GPG theory, one may
conclude that he contended that because the sea-bed, the ocean floor
and their resources may become excludable and rival they should be
regarded as global natural resources, and that therefore access should
be regulated and benefits shared. By emphasizing that the net financial
benefits should be used to promote the development of poor countries,
the proposal also focused on distributive justice. The regime envisaged
by Pardo, furthermore, is one which extends beyond states, also involv-
ing human beings–including future generations–international organi-
zations and other legal persons. Moreover, Pardo, as did the resulting
Part XI of the LOS Convention, included regulation of the private sec-
tor in his conceptualization of global natural resources. Pardo thus
used a different argument to come to the same conclusion as GPG
advocates.

52
10 December 1982, UNTS Vol. 1833 No. 31363.
53
The “Area” in Article 1 (1) of the LOS Convention is defined as the “sea-bed and
ocean floor and subsoil thereof beyond the limits of national jurisdiction”.
54
 See in particular LOS Convention, Arts 151 and 153 and Annex III.
55
28 July 1994, UNTS Vol. 1836 No. 31364.
892 ellen hey

In a chapter co-authored by Christol and Pardo, they contend that

“the twin principles of sovereignty and freedom cannot readily be
adapted to cope equitably and efficiently with a situation where the
marine environment is being used in ever more varied ways and
exploited ever more intensely”.56 Pardo and Christol observe the
following:
“The principle of sovereignty inevitably leads under contemporary con-
ditions and pressures to fragmentation of the marine environment
between a hundred or more coastal states: this would almost certainly
obstruct vital transnational uses of the marine environment and make
management of commercial fisheries and effective control of marine pol-
lution very difficult.”
“The freedom of the high seas is an equally unsatisfactory legal régime,
since it is based on the assumption that the marine environment
can accommodate virtually all uses of the sea without need for regula-
tion, that the living resources of the sea are virtually inexhaustible and
that the quality of the marine environment cannot be significantly
impaired by man. It is evident that these assumptions are at best
obsolete.”57
Pardo, furthermore, comments that “[S]tates will gradually discover
through bitter experience that effective, beneficial use of the marine
environment requires new forms of cooperation between coastal states
at least at the regional if not at the global level” and that “the concept of
sovereignty itself requires redefinition in a functional sense”.58
When commenting on a draft version of the LOS Convention, Pardo
and Christol also observe that, contrary to the proposal put forward
by Malta, the increasingly popular view that the “common heritage of
mankind is owned by mankind […] could also be dangerous: if
the common heritage is owned it can be used and abused by its owners,
the rights of future generations could be placed in jeopardy, it could be
administered in all respects at the discretion of a simple majority or
qualified majority of states, and if the majority of the owners so wished,
it could even be divided into parts.”59

56
 Pardo/Christol (note 51), at 653.
57
 Id.
58
 A. Pardo, The Law of the Sea: Its Past and Its Future, 63 Oregon Law Review 7, at
16–17 (1984).
59
 Pardo/Christol (note 51), at 657, italics in original.
 conceptualizing global natural resources893

Pardo, as illustrated by the above quotations, conceptualized marine

resources in terms of a trust which was to be administered by the
international community or by states in areas where they exercise sov-
ereignty in the interest of, among other groups, future generations.
Pardo’s conceptualization harbours parallels to GPG theory, especial
ly where, besides advocating enhanced transboundary cooperation, it
also requires the integration of regional and global concerns into
national policies. Grotius and Pardo, while both rejecting sovereignty
as a means of regulating access to marine resources, use diametrically
opposite arguments to substantiate their case. Grotius based his rejec-
tion of sovereignty as a means of dividing the resources in question on
non-excludability and non-rivalry; Pardo on excludability and rivalry.
Moreover, they draw diametrically opposite conclusions from their
rejection of sovereignty as a means of regulating access to the resources
in question: Grotius advocating freedom of access, Pardo advocating
regulation of access and benefit and burden sharing.

III. Antarctica–a Ban on Activities Related to Mineral Resources

The Antarctica treaty system finds its origins in proposals by the United
States, first in 1948 and again in 1958. In 1948 the United States pro-
posed that the seven claimant states plus the United States declare
Antarctica a condominium.60 This proposal did not attract support
from the other states concerned. In 1958, after the International
Geophysical Year (IGY), President Eisenhower, however, was more
successful. Eisenhower proposed that in the interest of mankind there
be “freedom of scientific investigation throughout Antarctica by citi-
zens, organizations, and governments of all countries” and “that
Antarctica be used for peaceful purposes only” and “any other peaceful
purposes not inconsistent with the Charter of the United Nations”,
while claims to sovereignty over the continent would be frozen.61 It was
this initiative which in 1959 led to the adoption of the Antarctic Treaty
by Argentina, Australia, Belgium, Chile, France, Japan, New Zealand,
Norway, the Soviet Union, South Africa, the United Kingdom and the

60
 See J. Hanessian, The Antarctic Treaty 1959, 9 International and Comparative
Law Quarterly 436 (1960).
61
 Statement by President Eisenhower and Text of US Note, 38 Department of State
Bulletin 910, at 911 (1958).
894 ellen hey

United States.62 These were the twelve states which had cooperated in
conducting scientific research in Antarctica during the IGY. Under the
Antarctic Treaty these twelve states, later joined by another sixteen
states, enjoy consultative status, meaning that they have decision-mak-
ing powers under the treaty. In addition, another twenty states are par-
ties to the Antarctic Treaty but do not enjoy consultative status,
meaning that they attend the meetings as observers.63
The main reason put forward for concluding the Antarctic Treaty
was the avoidance of political conflict on the continent. At the time,
natural resources played a role in the discussions, but it was felt that
including these resources in the negotiations might upset the agree-
ment attained on jurisdiction and claims to sovereignty.64 This situation
changed during the 1970s when Antarctic mineral resources attracted
the attention of mining companies. In 1977 a voluntary moratorium on
the exploration and exploitation of mineral resources in Antarctica was
adopted,65 and in 1988 the Convention on the Regulation of Antarctic
Mineral Resource Activities (CRAMRA) emerged.66 This convention,
however, never entered into force due to opposition from a number of
states as well as NGOs. The main argument voiced against CRAMRA
concerned the vulnerability of the Antarctic environment which should
not be exposed to mineral resources activities. Instead of CRAMRA,
the Protocol on Environmental Protection to the Antarctic Treaty was
adopted in 1991.67 It bans from Antarctica activities relating to mineral
resources, except for purposes of scientific research,68 and declares
Antarctica to be a “natural reserve, devoted to peace and science”.69
The parties to the Antarctic Treaty, the states with consultative status
in particular, based on the argument that the characteristics of the
Antarctic environment warrant such a ban in the interest of human-
kind, thus by law declared access to Antarctic mineral resources to be
closed to all, thereby making the resource excludible. The states
involved in so doing act as self-appointed guardians over the continent

62
1 December 1959, UNTS Vol. 402 No. 5778.
63
 Information available at http://www.ats.aq/devAS/ats_parties.aspx?lang=e.
64
 R. Wolfrum, The Exploitation of Antarctic Mineral Resources: Risks and Stakes,
in: J. Verhoeven/P. Sands/M. Bruce (eds.), The Antarctic Environment and International
Law, 27, at 27 (1992).
65
 Recommendation ATCM IX-1, London (1977), 20 ILM 1265 (1981).
66
2 June 1988, 27 ILM 868 (1988).
67
4 October 1991, 30 ILM 1455 (1991).
68
 Protocol on Environmental Protocol to the Antarctic Treaty, Article 7.
69
 Id., Article 2.
 conceptualizing global natural resources895

in the interest of humankind, a position which seems to have been

accepted by other states, now that the exploitation of mineral resources
is not on the horizon.70

IV. UNFCCC–Common Concern of Humankind

The preamble to the UNFCCC declares “change in the Earth’s climate
and its adverse effects are a common concern of humankind”.71
Importantly, the UNFCCC does not declare the climate system the
common concern of humankind, let alone the common property of
humankind. Instead, it focuses on maintaining intact a component of
the biosphere in the interest of humankind. The UNFCCC thus avoids
the thorny issues of sovereignty, even if it refers to the sovereign right
of states to exploit their own resources, subject to international law.72
The Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD) takes a similar
approach.73
While the UNFCCC does not explicitly engage with non-excludabil-
ity or non-rivalry, it clearly aims at limiting public “bads”, or exernali-
ties, associated with the emission of greenhouse gases in the interest of
humankind, including both present and future generations.74 The
UNFCCC and associated regulations in fact seek to regulate access to a
non-excludable and non-rival resource, i.e. air, with the object of
addressing externalities, i.e. global warming and its effects.
The UNFCCC, as well as other multilateral environmental agree-
ments (MEAs), draws an additional conclusion from the principle of
the common concern of mankind, i.e. that burdens associated with the
regime are to be shared among states, in particular between developed
and developing states. MEAs do so by implementing the principle of
common but differentiated responsibilities, formulated in principle 7
of the Rio Declaration on Environment and Development.75 While

70
F. Francioni, A decade of Development in Antarctic International Law, in:
F. Francioni/T. Scovazzi (eds.), International Law for Antarctica, 1, at 9 (2nd ed. 1996).
71
9 May 1992, UNTS Vol. 1771 No. 30822, Preamble, para. 1.
72
 Id., Preamble, para. 8.
73
5 June 1992, UNTS Vol. 1760 No. 30619. See Preamble, para. 3 and Article 3.
74
 UNFCCC, Article 3 (1).
75
14 June 1992, 31 ILM 874 (1992). See E. Hey, Common but Differentiated
Obligations, in: R. Wolfrum (ed.), Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International
Law (2008), available at www.mpepil.com. Also see J. Brunnée/S. Toope, Legitimacy
and Legality in International Law, Chapter 4 (Climate Change: Building a Global Legal
Regime) (2010).
896 ellen hey

most MEAs implement the principle without codifying it, the UNFCCC
explicitly includes the principle in its Article 3 (1), which provides as
follows:
“The Parties should protect the climate system for the benefit of present
and future generations of humankind, on the basis of equity and in
accordance with their common but differentiated responsibilities and
respective capabilities. Accordingly, the developed country Parties
should take the lead in combating climate change and the adverse effects
thereof.”
In addition, the UNFCCC, like other MEAs, also provides that:
“[T]he extent to which developing country Parties will effectively imple-
ment their commitments under the Convention will depend on the effec-
tive implementation by developed country Parties of their commitments
under the Convention related to financial resources and transfer of tech-
nology and will take fully into account that economic and social develop-
ment and poverty eradication are the first and overriding priorities of the
developing country Parties.”76
The UNFCCC, as well as other MEAs, thus conceptualizes states as
functional actors, acting in the interest of individuals and groups in
society, including future generations. These individuals and groups are
regarded as the beneficiaries of the reduction of greenhouse gases. In
addition, the UNFCCC seeks to share the burden of reducing green-
house gases by framing the commitments of states in terms of capabili-
ties to address and contributions to the problem, with developed states
taking on the commitment of assisting developing states. The Kyoto
Protocol has further developed this notion by prescribing emission
reductions for developed states and not for developing states, and by
introducing the so-called flexible mechanisms.77 While neither the
UNFCCC nor the Kyoto Protocol directly addresses the private sector,
it in practice plays a major role in the development of implementation
strategies.78 Should the private sector be directly addressed by a succes-
sor to the Kyoto Protocol, as it was in the ultimately unimplemented
Part XI of the LOS Convention? That, I venture, is one of the challenges
faced by climate change negotiators after Copenhagen.

76
 UNFCCC, Article 4 (7). Also see CBD, Article 20 (4).
77
11 December 1997, UNTS Vol. 2303 No. 30822.
78
 See P. Pattberg/J. Stripple, Beyond The Public and Private Divide: Remapping
Transnational Climate Governance in the 21st Century, 8 International Environmental
Agreements 367 (2008).
 conceptualizing global natural resources897

D. Conclusions

As admitted by GPG advocates, non-excludability and non-rivalry are

not adequate predictors of whether a natural resource is conceptual-
ized as public or private. In fact excludability and rivalry in Pardo’s
conceptualization serve to justify the global natural resource status of
the mineral resources of the seabed and ocean floor. Moreover, as
pointed out, Grotius and GPG advocates, at least initially, use the same
arguments regarding non-excludability and non-rivalry to conceptual-
ize natural resources as global, but come to diametrically opposite con-
clusions concerning the need for regulated access, Grotius advocating
free access; GPG advocates suggesting regulated access. In fact all the
more recent conceptualizations of global natural resources discussed in
this essay advocate regulated access, benefit and burden sharing and
concern for the environment, all of which are absent from Grotius’
conceptualization. Something must have changed during the past four
centuries. Might it be our perception of political community, informed
by, amongst other developments, the over-exploitation of natural
resources, which has made us aware of interdependencies and thus
externalities? This is the question which will be briefly explored in this
concluding section.
Prior to engaging therein, I add a short note about the nature of GPG
theory. In emphasizing the importance of stakeholder participation
and linking their effective participation to the legitimacy of the out-
comes which ensue, GPG theory harbours similarities to constructivist
theories developed in political science,79 development studies80 and
international law.81 Moreover, GPG theory also connects with ideas
regarding the development of cosmopolitan law. In the latter case
Held’s ideas, in particular, are of interest. Held contended that only by
directly addressing the market system itself–which he refers to as eco-
nomic cosmopolitanism–can our changed conceptualization of politi-
cal community–which he refers to as political cosmopolitanism–and
the promise of equal worth entrenched in human rights law, legal cos-
mopolitanism, be realized.82 A relevant question, based on Held, thus

79
F. v. Kratochwil, How do Norms Matter?, in: M. Byers (ed.), The Role of Law in
International Politics, 35 (2000).
80
 A. Sen, Development as Freedom (1999).
81
 Brunnée/Toope (note 75).
82
 D. Held, Law of States, Law of Peoples: Three Models of Sovereignty, 8 Legal
Theory 1 (2002).
898 ellen hey

seems to be: if our perception of political community has changed, are

the ways in which we conceptualize global natural resources address-
ing the market? Or, as GPG advocates might put it, are we incorporat-
ing the private sector in our conceptualizations of GPGs, given that
they may be providing public goods?
Grotius, based on his assumption that the sea and the fish therein
were inexhaustible, clearly was not concerned with the environmental
externalities which the freedom of access might generate, nor was he
preoccupied with the regulation of the market as such. He did, how-
ever, focus on distributive justice in a narrow sense. He argued norma-
tively that “the powers that be” should not be entitled to divide the sea
and its resources amongst themselves. Instead, according to Grotius, all
states should be entitled to participate in their use. Grotius thus, basing
himself on the formal equality of states, did not address distributive
justice in a broad sense. That is in terms of substantive equality, which
would imply that some states and/or their nationals are entitled to pref-
erential treatment due to various constraints which prevent them from
benefiting from the freedom of navigation or fishing.
Pardo’s proposal and the resulting Part XI of the LOS Convention,
the ban on Antarctic mineral resources activities, the regime generated
by the UNFCCC/KP and GPG thinking focus on distributive justice in
a broad sense, and in doing so incorporate benefit and burden in their
conceptualizations. Benefit sharing in these contexts entails that all
states and their nationals should be entitled to profit from the benefits
generated by deep seabed mining, a pristine Antarctic environment
and a healthy climate system. Burden sharing in these contexts involves
three dimensions in time: past benefits, present capabilities and possi-
ble future burdens. Past benefits refers to the benefits which developed
states have obtained as a result of, among other things, using natural
resources, benefits which have enhanced their present capabilities and
thus put them in a better position than developing states to invest in
the development or protection of the resources at stake (deep seabed
resources, protection of the Antarctic environment, emission reduc-
tions); and thus address the environmental problems at stake and avoid
possible burdens for future generations. Our sense of political commu-
nity thus seems to have expanded to include both past and future gen-
erations and to encompass human beings all over the world. But are
our conceptualizations of global resources addressing the market? Part
XI of the Law of the Sea Convention clearly addressed the market, but
has not been implemented. The UNFCCC and the Kyoto Protocol do
 conceptualizing global natural resources899

not directly address the market as such, even if in practice the private
sector is heavily involved in the regime which has ensued on the basis
of those instruments. But does this amount to addressing the market? I
ask because industry is able to relocate its operations to states not
bound by the emissions reductions prescribed by the Kyoto Protocol,
either because these states are not parties to the Protocol or because
they are developing states, for which the protocol does not prescribe
emissions reductions, and subsequently export their products to states
bound by the Kyoto Protocol.83 In addition, industry in developing
states might profit from support generated through the Clean
Development Mechanism (CDM) without necessarily engaging in
cleaner production processes, even if reducing GHG emissions.84
I venture to conclude that while our sense of political community
has changed, amongst others as a result of the depletion of natural
resources, which has made us aware of interdependencies, that sense of
political community is only to a limited extent reflected in our concep-
tualizations of global natural resources. Practice, moreover, lags even
further behind, as witnessed by the putting on hold of Part XI of the
LOS Convention and the practice of the climate change regime. In
other words, while our conceptualization of political community finds
reflection in our conceptualizations of global natural resources and in
some of the substantive provisions of the regimes in question, there
remains a reluctance to address the market directly in terms of benefit
and burden sharing, and thus the externalities generated by that mar-
ket. By implication we will be unable to attain the ideals of equal worth
reflected in human rights law, which Held refers to as legal
cosmopolitanism.

83
 S. J. Davis/K. Caldeira, Consumption-based Accounting of CO2 Emissions (2010),
available at http://www.pnas.org/content/107/12/5687. The authors advocate a con-
sumption-based accounting system of CO2 emissions which would, amongst other
things, account for the fact that in the order of 22% (2004 figures) of China’s emissions
are related to exports to other countries.
84
J. Lin, An Overview of the Clean Development Mechanism in Southeast Asia, in:
K. L. Koh/L. H. Lye/J. Lin (eds.), Crucial Issues in Climate Change and the Kyoto
Protocol, Asia and the World, 99, at 186–188 (2010). Lin discusses GHG reduction
projects in China, which account for 44.29% of CDM projects, which through rela-
tively cheap end-of-pipeline technology capture GHGs and thus reduce emissions, but
which do not address the production process and thus do not stimulate the use of clean
technology. Lin suggests that the industry concerned, through the CDM, enjoy a sub-
sidy which enables it to continue using unsustainable production processes.
 The Altiplano Silala (Siloli)1: a Watercourse
under Scrutiny

María Teresa Infante Caffi

A. Introduction

Writing about this watercourse–known as Silala or Siloli–which crosses

the border between Chile and Bolivia, presents an opportunity to
explore the possibilities offered by international law to settle a dispute,
taking into consideration the salient elements of the controversy itself.
It certainly shows the typical characteristics of a dispute about facts,
law and interests, all together.
From the diplomatic strategic side, one of the key points has been
whether Bolivia and Chile should build a consensus on the utilization
of the Silala River alone or approach the transboundary watercourses
as a whole and prioritize the structuring of a general framework appli-
cable to them instead of focusing on a single feature.
This paper tries to explain the international legal process behind
these negotiations, taking into account influential academic ideas
about questions arising out of the comparison between norms, the
conduct of the parties and the facts present in this case.2 At the same
time, Chilean–Bolivian working groups as well as both Governments
have analysed different scenarios since 2004,3 initiated by exploratory
conversations in 2000–2001, to conceive a possible basis for agree-
ments on either procedure or substance.
It is also important to view this case as a demonstration of the
barriers to overcoming differences which Governments encounter,
where images and beliefs are constantly intervening and intersecting

1
According to L. Riso Patrón, Diccionario Jeográfico de Chile, at 844 (1924), the
place name Silala is related to the terms “Portezuelo” (“cavity”) or “Río”.
2
X. Fuentes, Una Nueva Controversia con Bolivia: Las Aguas del Río Silala, in:
Sociedad Chilena de Derecho Internacional (ed.), ESTUDIOS 1998–2000, 11 (2000).
3
Minutes of the Meeting of the Working Group Bolivia-Chile on the Matter of
Silala, 6 May 2004 (unpublished). The meeting concluded with an agreement to estab-
lish terms of reference to conduct scientific and technical studies to determine the
status, origin and flows of the waters of the Silala.
902 maría teresa infante caffi

the normal course of events, thereby preventing the conclusion of

agreements.4
This work is intended as a contribution to honor the transcendent
work of Prof. Dr. Dr. h.c. Rüdiger Wolfrum, whose distinguished career
has demonstrated the importance of negotiations and law in building
international regimes.

B. Geography and Law

From a geographical perspective, a core question has been whether the

waters of the Silala (Siloli) genuinely flow from Bolivia to Chile due to
the naturally sloping ground. In this respect, there are authors in
Bolivia who advance the idea that waters run from Bolivia to Chile
only with the support of man-made channels.5 This argument is cru-
cial. The other central issue is about the suitability of applying in this
case general principles accepted by the international community to
deal with international watercourses, inspired by the Helsinki Rules,6
the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Non-navigational
Uses of International Watercourses of 1997,7 not yet in force, or even
the existing international practice as shown in bilateral or regional
agreements.8 In the end, the substance of the matter is about to what
extent there is a basis for consensus building between the two countries
on such questions, as well as the content of possible principles which

4
 R. Fernández Ortiz, Algunas consideraciones históricas, técnicas y políticas sobre
el problema de las aguas del Silala: la posición boliviana, in: L. Correa Vera (ed.), Mar
de Fondo, 223, at 245–254 (2007); P. van Damme, Disponibilidad, Uso y Calidad de los
Recursos Hídricos en Bolivia, at 72 (2002), available at http://www.zabalketa.org/files/
documentacion/Informes_técnicos/Recursos_h%C3%ADdricos_en_Bolivia/recur-
sos_hidricos_boli.pdf.
5
A. Bazoberry Quiroga, El Mito del Silala, at 48 (2003).
6
The Helsinki Rules on the Uses of the Waters of International Rivers (1966),
Report of the Committee on the Uses of the Waters of International Rivers, International
Law Association (1967), available at http://webworld.unesco.org/water/wwap/pccp/
cd/pdf/educational_tools/course_modules/reference_documents/international-
regionconventions/helsinkirules.pdf.
7
Available at http://untreaty.un.org/ilc/texts/instruments/english/conven-
tions/8_3_1997.pdf.
8
 Legal problems relating to the utilization and use of international rivers, Report by
the Secretary-General (UN Doc. A/5409), extract from the Yearbook of the
International Law Commission 1974, Vol. II, Part 2, UN Doc. A/CN.4/SER.A/1974/
Add.1 (Part 2) (1976), at 33. Also United Nations Legislative Series: Legislative Texts
and Treaty Provisions Concerning the Utilization of International Rivers for Other
Purposes than Navigation, UN Doc. ST/LEG/SER.B/12 (1963).
 the altiplano silala (siloli)903

could be invoked in order to draw up an agreement. Studies conducted

under the aegis of the World Bank provide solid material in this
respect.9
The watercourse known as Silala is located in the province of Sud
Lípez, Bolivia, Department of Potosí, Cantón Quetena, and in
the Chilean province of El Loa, Antofagasta Region, crossing the bor-
der at 22°00’34”S and 68°’01’37”W, at 4,278 meters above sea level. The
Silala is part of a basin located in an altiplanic area the average height
of which is 4,300 to 4,500 meters and which is characterized by the
presence of volcanoes. The crossing of the frontier–which is a straight
line–between Bolivia and Chile takes place between two mountains,
Inacaliri or Cajón and the Silala Hill. An average of 140–160 liters per
second flows across the border, becoming part of the basin of the Loa
River.10
In Bolivia, the Silala is formed by the merging of waters superficially
running from two sources: the “bofedales” or wetlands called Orientales
and Cajón, in an area of about 80km2.11 A concessionaire of the stream
built two settling pools in Bolivia and Chile, at approximately 450
meters and 50 meters from each side of the frontier, respectively. Since
1996–1997, the Bolivian structure has not been monitored by the com-
pany, as its title to operate in Bolivia was revoked.
How this small watercourse became a subject of controversy is
not mystifying, as it has been strongly related to the elements which
underlie the relationship between Chile and Bolivia.12 The idea
that water resources are the subject of intensive discussions between
these neighbors is not new, given the fact that fifteen watercourses
cross the boundary from Bolivia or Chile to the neighboring State.

9
S. M. A. Salman/L. Boisson de Chazournes (eds.), International Watercourses,
Enhancing Cooperation and Managing Conflict, Proceedings of a World Bank
Seminar, World Bank Technical Paper No. 414 (1998).
10
The river Silala is utilized partially in Chile by a railway company incorporated in
the United Kingdom and owner of the railway which connects Antofagasta to Bolivia
(FCAB) which obtained a concession in 1906 from the Government of Chile. The
Chilean state owned company CODELCO, located 4.6 km downstream from the bor-
der with Bolivia, captures a percentage of the excess waters not utilized by the FCAB
which flows from springs occurring in Chilean territory.
11
A. Hauser Y./Servicio Nacional de Geología y Minería, Chile (ed.), Marco
Morfológico, Geológico, Tectónico, Hidrogeológico e Hidroquímico: Morfogénesis,
Evolusión y Modalidades de Aprovechamiento del Sistema Hidrográfico Compartido
Chileno-Boliviano del Río Silala (Informe Consolidado) (2004).
12
For a Bolivian view, see M. Gómez Balboa, Las aguas que Chile ambiciona, La
Prensa, 22 February 2004.
904 maría teresa infante caffi

Some of them correspond to the salt flats (“salares”), Ollagüe and

Ascotán.
In 1999, the Chamber of Deputies of the Bolivian Parliament adopted
a resolution instructing all public agencies not to employ the term
“river” to refer to the Silala waters, on the basis that they were not natu-
ral waters but springs or “ojos de agua”. The waters emerging therein
would be consumed in the same area if not for the man-made works.
Thence, the use of the term “river” had also to be deleted from the
Geographic Military Institute’s maps. This decision was followed by an
intensive exchange of notes with Chile.13
Bolivia began to perceive the man-made canalizations, built in
accordance with the concession granted in 1908 by Bolivia,14 to be the
cause of the flow and, therefore, of the fact that the water crossed the
border. On the other hand, Chile maintained that no artificial means
had produced the effect of the water flow, which was driven by gravity.
The response to the Bolivian claim was that works conducted by The
Antofagasta (Chile) and Bolivian Railway Company Limited could not
alter the natural runoff towards Chile. The same company had in 1906
been granted a concession in Chile for the section of the waters run-
ning through its territory after the crossing of the border.15
With respect to watercourses, in 1962 the Lauca River, originating in
the Arica y Parinacota Region of Chile and flowing from Chile to
Bolivia, had already become famous for its impact on bilateral rela-
tions.16 In 1962, Bolivia severed diplomatic relations with Chile over a

13
 On 20 May 1999, Chile handed over a note asserting that the Silala was an inter-
national river, founded on the geographic facts of the region, and shown by Bolivian
and Chilean cartography, as well as by joint cartography. Chile recalled that this opin-
ion was also supported by depictions of high level national experts. Accordingly, it was
stated that measures that Bolivia could adopt in this respect were without effect for
Chile.
14
 Official document issued on 3 November 1908 in Potosí, Bolivia, by the “Prefecto
Accidental” of the Department of Potosí, acting as Superintendent of Finances of the
Department. According to the request submitted by the company to the government of
Potosí, for public use in Bolivia the former offered one third of the waters to be utilized
by the rail company in Bolivia (Archives of the Dirección Nacional de Fronteras y
Límites del Estado, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Chile).
15
The official document refers to the “tributary called Sololi”, and to “the waters of
the Siloli stream” (Archives of the Dirección Nacional de Fronteras y Límites del
Estado, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Chile).
16
 Chile announced in 1939 that it was going to conduct studies to utilize part of the
waters for the irrigation of the Azapa valley in Arica, amounting to a percentage of the
total flow of the river that crosses the frontier with Bolivia. See Note No. 393/80 of 10
November 1939, printed in: República de Chile, Ministerio de Relaciones Exteriores
(ed.), La Cuestión del río Lauca, at 26–27 (1963).
 the altiplano silala (siloli)905

claim that the latter had altered the course of the Lauca River.17
The controversy over the uses of that river has not yet been settled. In
this case, Chile is the upstream country and Bolivia is downstream.
In the framework of the discussion on the uses of the river which took
place in the Organization of American States (OAS) in 1962,
Bolivia recognized the applicability of the provisions of Resolution
LXXII of the Seventh International Conference on the Industrial and
Agricultural Use of International Rivers.18 According to its operative
part:
“2. The states have the exclusive right to exploit, for industrial or agricul-
tural purposes, the margin which is under their jurisdiction, of the waters
of international rivers. This right, however, is conditioned in its exercise
upon the necessity of not injuring the equal right due to the neighbour-
ing state on the margin under its jurisdiction.
In consequence, no state may, without the consent of the other ripar-
ian state, introduce into water courses of an international character, for
the industrial or agricultural exploitation of their waters, any alteration
which may prove injurious to the margin of the other interested state.”
The Resolution refers to the act of “announcement” (“denuncia”)
accompanied by the necessary technical documentation of a planned
work in international waters to the other riparian or co-jurisdictional
state. In the Lauca River case, after a lengthy exchange of views between
Chile and Bolivia, the latter decided to sever diplomatic relations in
1962. In the circumstances of the case, Bolivia insisted that Chile’s use
of the waters of the Lauca River was an illegitimate diversion of its flow
which should be treated as an act of aggression.
Chile rejected the accusation and the OAS resolved to make a
friendly appeal to the Government of Bolivia to avail itself, in the spirit
of cooperation it had demonstrated in the consideration of this matter,
of some of the procedures for the peaceful settlement of disputes pro-
vided for in the inter-American system. Also, the Council of the OAS
made “a friendly appeal to Chile to continue cooperating in efforts to
find a peaceful procedure that will afford the greatest likelihood of
solving the controversy soon”.19 On that occasion, Chile advanced the

17
Ministerio de Relaciones Exteriores y Culto de Bolivia (ed.), La Desviación del río
Lauca (1962); see supra note 16.
18
An account of the relevance of this Resolution can be found in L. Melo Lecaros,
International Rivers–The Lauca Case, 3 Indian Journal of International Law 133, at
142–144 (1963).
19
See supra note 16, at 297–298.
906 maría teresa infante caffi

idea that the Lauca River case should be approached as a juridical case,
not as a purely political one.
Concerning the Silala River, one of the difficulties in reaching an
agreement has been the Bolivian viewpoint, which maintains that there
is no natural water flow from its territory towards Chile and that, in
addition, compensation should be paid for about ninety years of use by
Chile.20 The idea of compensation emerged as a sort of price to be paid
retrospectively rather than as a means of reparation for possible harm
caused by the use of the waters over ninety years.
In its turn, Chile has maintained not only that the Silala is an inter-
national watercourse, but also that Bolivia itself had admitted by its
own conduct and decisions that the course of the Silala is natural and
that it constitutes a river from a hydrographic point of view. A variant
of this option would be advanced by those who favor direct negotia-
tions between interested parties, that is between Bolivia and foreign
companies or natural persons who could be authorized to conduct the
water from the upper part in Bolivia to Chile, leaving to the Govern
ments the task of defining the legal framework under which such
administrative decision and subsequent commercial transaction could
validly take place.
The idea behind this is that there might be an incentive for the
Governments to accept transboundary transactions without directly
interfering with the content of the agreement, let alone engaging in
highbrow discussions about the existence of a river in a geographic
sense. In addition, it has also been mentioned that such a framework
could be enriched by broader schedules in which hydrological resources
play a role in a wider process of negotiations where Bolivia’s (territo-
rial) access to the sea is part of a broader dialogue and hydrological
resources serve as a means for compensation.21

C. From Past to Present

In the circumstances of the nascent disagreement about the valid

means of disposing of the waters of the Silala, Chile made a public

20
G. E. Matos, Antecedentes y Análisis del Borrador de Acuerdo sobre los
Manantiales del Silala, available at http://www.icees.org.bo/art-colaboracion/acuer-
dos-sobre%20el%20silala.pdf.
21
W. G. Torres Armas, Las Relaciones Chileno-Bolivianas Contemporáneas, 67
Opiniones y Análisis 141, at 166–168 (2004).
 the altiplano silala (siloli)907

statement on 27 April 2000,22 on the occasion of the adjudication by

Bolivia of a tender for the whole flow of the waters of the Silala to a
private company (DUCTEC S.R.L.).23 Thereafter, a dispute originating
from an internal act and affecting a State-to-private company relation-
ship evolved into a State-to-State dispute. Then, after the new conces-
sion, the situation was even more complex due to the initiative of the
beneficiary private company to invoke commercial and administrative
rights–not recognized by Chilean laws–vis-à-vis the Chilean govern-
ment and requesting payments for the water utilized after it crossed the
border.
Thus, the Chilean government asserted that the contract, which had
awarded a concession over the waters of the Silala in 2000, lacked valid-
ity in all aspects which implied the denial of Chile’s rights. The inten-
tion of this statement was to make clear the distinction between the
right of a riparian State to dispose of the waters of a shared watercourse
according to equitable and reasonable principles, and the lack of legiti-
macy of a claim over the totality of the flow, especially when the upper
stream State decides to take control of the whole flow even after it
crosses the border.24 At that time, Chile pointed out that Bolivia had
been invited to initiate a bilateral dialogue to study the issue of the
Silala in accordance with the legal principles applicable to international
watercourses in order to achieve a constructive framework for an
understanding over the “shared watercourse” (recurso hídrico
compartido).
Eventually, under social and political pressure, in 2003 the Bolivian
government rescinded the concession. Had it been put into practice,
a substantive increase in the flow of the watercourse of up to 750 liters
would have taken place. The intention behind this internal act

22
 Comunicado de Prensa, 27 April 2000, available at www.minrel.gov.cl.
23
 Contract of concession for the use and development of the waters of the Silala
springs, Superintendencia de Aguas, Sistema de Regulación Sectorial, text in Dirección
Nacional de Fronteras y Límites del Estado, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Chile.
24
 Under these circumstances, the Chilean government informed all potential users
of the waters of the Silala River that Chile was not going to recognize the validity of the
concession covering 100 percent of the flow of the Silala. Accordingly, Chile made a
reservation of its own rights based on the conviction that private and public Chilean
entities should refrain from negotiating with Bolivia on the issue of river Silala.
In general, Chile made the distinction between the internal effect of Bolivia’s own acts
and the consequences which could arise from such acts in Chile itself, where they
lacked legal validity, Memoranda by the Chilean Foreign Ministers on 2 December
1999 and 12 May 2000 (unpublished).
908 maría teresa infante caffi

may have been to stress Bolivia’s exclusive rights over the water
course and the aim to obtain economic revenues from its exploi-
tation and the export of water to Chile.25 In fact, the company which
had been granted the concession in Bolivia could not legally charge
a price for the utilization of the water in Chile and, consequently,
its investments in Bolivia became ineffective for its intended pur
pose.
In the context of this discussion, as has already been said, the
Government of Bolivia pointed out that an additional economic ele-
ment had to be taken into account. In response, Chile made clear that
there was nothing wrong with the intention to obtain economic bene-
fits from the utilization of the waters by public or private companies,
but this was possible only if the water disposed of was the portion of
the water that Bolivia could use in its own territory and for its own
benefit. The idea was not, then, to target the waters crossing over into
Chile only on the basis of benefits accrued by the latter over the waters
of the Silala River. This view arises from the hypothesis that it is possi-
ble for Bolivia to charge for the long-term utilization of the waters in
Chile, while that country does not receive equivalent economic bene-
fits. In short, according to this view, the subject should be included on
the bilateral agenda so as to make the Bolivian State a recipient of such
benefit.26
Over the years, this position has been known as the “historic debt”,
expressive of a claim which, more than being based on legal principles,
reflects a hypothesis of the imbalances which may have occurred over
the years in the use and exploitation of the watercourse. This approach
distances itself from geographical facts and contrasts with the possibil-
ity of legitimate traditional uses of the watercourse which could evi-
dence the fact that the water has run naturally and that, therefore, it
could not be appropriated by one country to the detriment of the
other.27

25
FRUTCAS, Resistencia frente a los daños ambientales por la explotación y extrac-
ción de aguas subterráneas, in: CIDSE/ALAI (eds.), América Latina: Riqueza privada,
pobreza pública, 104, at 105 (2009); J. C. Aranguren, Rescisión con DUCTEC sólo
perjudica al país (2003), available at http://www.eldiario.net/noticias/2003/2003_07/
nt030709/2_03plt.html.
26
 Press Release of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Worship of Bolivia, El Diario,
8 May 1996, at 5; see also supra note 20.
27
 Conclusiones [Unilaterales] de la Reunión Bolivia y Chile sobre el tema del Silala,
1 October 2010, available at http://www.rree.gob.bo/webmre/notasprensa/2010/2010_
octubre/np3.htm.
 the altiplano silala (siloli)909

A similar approach with the variant of adopting a framework for

exporting the waters of the Silala as if it were only a watercourse con-
fined within Bolivian borders has also been advanced by Bolivian ana-
lysts.28 The export of waters, on which there has as yet been no
agreement between Chile and Bolivia, could theoretically have been
conceived as an instrument to create interdependencies across the
frontier zones and to enhance the possibilities of consensus round the
watercourses. In fact, in 2001, Bolivian Law No. 2267 was adopted to
serve as a legal basis for water export. The Law was abrogated in
October 2004 amid a campaign to forbid the export of surface and
ground waters.29 According to Article 7 of the new Law No. 2704 for
the integral development of the South-East of Potosí,
“The waters of the springs of Silala located in the jurisdiction of the
Cantón Quetena of the Province of Sud Lípez, that in conformity
with Article 136 of the Political Constitution of the State, are of orig
inal domain of the Bolivian State, will be subjected to a special treat
ment by the Executive Power, without any modification of the current
flow.”30
Looking back, this story may be connected with the fact that in 1997,
after the intense public campaign against the concession dated 1908 by
which Bolivia granted a private company the right to exploit the waters
of the Silala (Siloli) River in Bolivian territory and its tributaries, the
Government (Prefectura) of the Department of Potosí annulled and
revoked the act of concession and therefore the adjudication of the
waters of the Silala was rescinded.31 The water continued to flow and
cross the boundary with Chile, where rights to exploit the water had
been granted to the same company by the competent Chilean agencies
in 1906.
Meanwhile, the Silala River case had grown in intensity in Bolivia,
resulting in the taking of extreme positions such as those exposed
in the book titled “El Mito del Silala”32, where the author–a Bolivian

28
W. Torres Armas, Bolivia y las Aguas Internacionales como Factor de Integración,
Hidrovía Paraguay-Paraná, available at http://www.bvsde.paho.org/bvsacg/fulltext/
willi.pdf.
29
See http://www.fobomade.org.bo/humedales/docs/ley_2704.php.
30
Available at http://www.lexivox.org/norms/BO-L-2704.xhtml.
31
Supreme Decree dated 20 June 1997, BO-DS-4660. It approves the Resolutions
adopted by the Prefecto of Potosí on 14 May 1997, available at http://www.lexivox.org/
norms/BO-DS-24660.xhtml.
32
Bazoberry (note 5), at 45–52.
910 maría teresa infante caffi

military engineer–attempts to explain how a watercourse which origi-

nates in one country and then flows until it naturally crosses the border
with Chile, does not qualify as a transboundary watercourse. According
to this book, there should be no solution on the basis of principles
applicable to international watercourses under international law. Those
who subscribe to that position maintain that the Silala is nothing but a
number of springs from which water emerges. Therefore, the water
could not run naturally forming a watercourse unless a number of
canals were built to conduct the water to Chile.
The watercourse–identified by Chile as a shared natural resource–
has also been treated by Bolivia as an aquifer in accordance with the
definition given by the United Nations General Assembly Resolution
63/124 “The Law of Transboundary Aquifers”33. It means that the Silala
could be qualified as “a permeable water bearing geological formation
underlain by a less permeable layer and the water contained in the sat-
urated zone of the formation” (Article 2). This approach could eventu-
ally lead to the application of a different apportionment formula
between the States, where the important fact would be the ground
water rather than the water that flows overground from one country to
the other.34 Nonetheless, the theory of the aquifer entails the need to
assess the existence of a transboundary natural resource. The idea was
not followed by new initiatives on behalf of Bolivia after 2008, when
the terms of a Silala hydrological system started being used as common
ground with Chile.

D. To Understand the Negotiations

Chile and Bolivia agreed once again in 2008 on a methodology to deal

with the subject and started implementing it in practice. It involved a
revision of the priorities, focussing mainly on surface waters rather
than on the hypothesis that the Silala emerged from a huge aquifer, the
acceptance of geographical facts as to the border-crossing waters, and
on the view that an interim agreement could be a first step which might

33
GA Res. 63/124 of 15 January 2009.
34
S. McCaffrey, International Groundwater Law: Evolution and Context, in: S.M.A.
Salman (ed.), Groundwater: Legal and Policy Perspectives: Proceedings of a World
Bank Seminar, World Bank Technical Paper No. 456, 139 (1999).
 the altiplano silala (siloli)911

eventually evolve into a permanent framework valid for the two

countries.35
The search for a new approach required an intensive effort from both
sides. Until then, the process had proved to be very difficult. In fact, the
Silala had been the object of discussions ranging from its very nature
and origins to the question of its current and potential uses, all of which
complicated the negotiators’ task.
Following the resumption of negotiations in 2008, a draft interim
agreement was announced in November 2009 by the Governments
of Chile and Bolivia,36 providing for a framework to apply the concept
of equitable and reasonable utilization of the watercourse which flows
across the frontier between the two countries, the establishment of a
general framework of cooperation to monitor and record hydrographic,
hydrological and other physical features, as well as agreed methods of
surveying the flow and the recharge capacity of the watercourse.
From a conceptual perspective, the central elements of the draft
agreement would be more aligned with definitions provided by Bolivia
in 1996 than with the views opposing the existence of a transboundary
watercourse. In real terms, the guidelines put forward in 2008 did a
better job of satisfying the definition announced in a Bolivian Press
Release on 7 May 1996, according to which,
“The Silala is a river which has its origin in a source on the slopes of a hill
of the same name, in Bolivian territory, and subsequently enters the ter-
ritory of Chile. To put it in other words, Bolivia is the proprietor of the
upper course of this river and Chile is the lower proprietor.
[…]
In summary, the report of the National Commission of Sovereignty
and Limits (Comisión Nacional de Soberanía y Límites) [of Bolivia],
places on record that there is no work or modification, deviation of
waters or alteration of markers at the present time.”37
Contrary to the above mentioned statement, in 1999 the Government
of Bolivia contested that the Silala was a river and, consequently, argued

35
Section VII, Minutes of the XIX Meeting of the Mechanism of Political
Consultations Chile-Bolivia of 21 November 2008, available at http://www.minrel.gov.
cl/prontus_minrel/site/artic/20081121/pags/20081121205124.php.
36
Minutes dated 13 November 2009. Text at Dirección Nacional de Fronteras y
Límites del Estado, Ministerio de Relaciones Exteriores, Chile. A copy circulated pub-
licly in Bolivia in the process of open consultations with the civil society.
37
See supra note 26, at 5.
912 maría teresa infante caffi

that Chile had no entitlement to its waters.38 Before this, Chile

had maintained on 20 May 1999 that there were geographical factors,
cartographic evidence and bilateral documents which attested to
the existence of the watercourse crossing the border.39 Among other
evidence, Chile said there were minutes authored by the Chilean-
Bolivian Mixed Boundaries Commission in 199240 and the map with
the boundary line attached to the Treaty of Peace and Friendship of
1904.41
A similar perspective had been revealed earlier by ambassador
Teodosio Imaña, president of the National Commission of Sovereignty
and Limits of Bolivia, who declared in 1996 that
“River Silala is located in the Province of Sud Lípez of the department of
Potosí, and corresponds to the jurisdiction that at the beginning of the
century was denominated Vice-Cantón Quetena.
It originates in two principal springs and receives flows from other
minor ‘eyes’. The narrow channel that is then formed, with the name of
Silala, runs through the Bolivian territory, about two kilometers, before
entering into the frontier point of the East-West slope, of the ravine situ-
ated between the Inacaliri and Silala hills. The inclination determined by
experts in the subject, is approximately 30%, while the channel is narrow
and its crystal stream follows the slope that, due to gravitation, descends
downstream to Chilean territory.”42
Also, in 1997 Bolivian Professor Montes de Oca referred to the springs
in the zone of Sud Lípez located from Towa, 80 km to the north of the
railway, to the limit of Bolivia with Chile, 250 km southwards. Montes
de Oca added that the springs from which the Silala River originates
were captured on the border by a Chilean company to serve the cities
of Chiu-Chiu, Calama and Antofagasta, in Chile.43

38
 Note GMI-656/99, Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Worship of Bolivia.
39
 Note No. 474/71, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Chile.
40
Acta No. 38 Mixed Boundaries Commission, Annexes No. 34 and 34-A (1992).
41
 In response to this, by note dated 3 November 1999, Bolivia mentioned that for 91
years a company (The Antofagasta (Chile) and Bolivia Railway Company Limited) had
been using the spring waters of the Silala subject to Bolivian internal jurisdiction.
According to this argument, the factual situation was that the company continued
using the water after the end of the contract. The idea that the Silala did not qualify as
a transboundary watercourse but rather as wetlands (bofedales), from where the waters
were captured and channelled artificially emerged in the official Bolivian argument,
appended to the previous analysis.
42
 El río Silala: Una historia casi centenaria, interview with Teodosio Imaña Castro
by Jorge Lazo Valera, Presencia, La Paz, 31 May 1996.
43
 I. Montes de Oca, Geografía y Recursos Naturales de Bolivia, at 246 (3rd ed.
1997).
 the altiplano silala (siloli)913

So far, the facts and positions behind this issue have proved
difficult to reconcile, despite attempts to advance towards a basic
understanding in the bilateral agenda since 2000. To understand these,
it is important to bear in mind that a number of diplomatic notes were
exchanged between Chile and Bolivia in just two years and that most
of the time divergent views regarding the treatment of the essential
technical aspects of the hydrology of the watercourse and the
political and legal factors of a future negotiation had proved almost
irreconcilable, despite the availability of diplomatic and technical
means.
Thus, after exchanging more than ten notes between 1999 and 2000,
Chile and Bolivia organized a survey in 2000 to conduct joint field-
work, which was successfully accomplished. In 2001, an aerial photo-
graphic trip produced a number of photographs for the preparation of
a joint chart of the frontier area. Unfortunately, both actions were dis-
continued later, although they left rich data for further analysis.
Additionally, after the joint visit in 2000 to the area where the water-
course originates and from which it runs towards Chile, Bolivia and
Chile were in a position to adopt a course of action which could have
served to set up a framework for the Silala itself and for the whole sys-
tem of watercourses which cross the border.
One of these attempts took place in January 2001, for the purposes
of the agreement consisting of an understanding on the following
points: i) Bolivia was prospecting hydrologic resources in the Western
region; ii) there was agreement on the interest in developing a norma-
tive framework for the watercourses; iii) Bolivia and Chile agreed to
explore solutions for possible water exports from one country to the
other; iv) there was agreement to introduce environmental factors in
the appraisal of water resources; v) it was agreed to consider the estab-
lishment of a bilateral committee or technical mechanism to deal with
this subject.44 Time lapsed and Chile and Bolivia met in December
2002; among the main points on the agenda, the meeting dealt with
issues about a possible agreement on hydrological resources; however,
negotiations never took place.45

44
Grupo de Trabajo sobre Recursos Hídricos, Reunión Ministerial Chile-Bolivia
sobre Integración y Desarrollo, Santa Cruz de la Sierra, 29–30 January 2001, available
at www.difrol.gov.cl.
45
Minutes of the I Meeting on Hydrologic Resources Chile-Bolivia, 13 December
2002, Dirección Nacional de Fronteras y Límites del Estado, Ministerio de Relaciones
Exteriores, Chile.
914 maría teresa infante caffi

In the same year (2002), on the eve of the inauguration of a new

President, Bolivian newspapers announced that the Minister of Foreign
Affairs had systematized a sort of schematic alternative proposal to
deal with the issue of the Silala: to stop the water flowing to Chile, to
enter into State-to-State negotiations or to submit the dispute to arbi-
tration.46 Decisions to submit the case to adjudication were finally not
subject to the negotiations.

E. Analysis and Negotiations: the 2008–2009 Deal

As has been explained, technical and legal working groups have been
set up by the two countries in recent years. In the meantime, the Silala
has also been part of give and take initiatives in Bolivia’s domestic poli-
tics. In 2006, under a new momentum in bilateral relations, the Silala
River became part of the global bilateral agenda, when the Governments
of Bolivia and Chile adopted what was known as the agenda of thirteen
points, of which number VII corresponds to the Silala and Water
Resources.47
Until that moment, the technical discussion had been characterized
by the assessment of whether or not the Silala watercourse qualified as
a river under international law. To make it simple, if the Silala was not
a watercourse, then its waters should not naturally cross over into
Chilean territory and there should be no dispute about the extent of the
right to benefit from the waters. Hence, in order to structure an under-
standing in search first of a transitory agreement and then of a perma-
nent regime, it seemed essential to take into account at least three
elements: a) a plausible regime should be based on a general consensus
about the geographical features of the region including the water flow
phenomenon; b) Bolivia’s right to determine whether to utilize the por-
tion of the water (a percentage of the total flow) corresponding to it in
its own territory or to export it to Chile would be acknowledged; and
c) the hydrologic system of the Silala would be the subject of supple-
mentary joint studies.

46
 La Prensa, 28 June 2002.
47
 In the XIV Meeting of Political Consultations held in October 2005, the
Delegations exchanged ideas about the establishment of a schedule to agree on the
utilization of the Silala “for mutual benefit”. The idea was not taken up again until 2008.
Minutes of the XIV Meeting at Dirección Nacional de Fronteras y Límites del Estado,
Ministerio de Relaciones Exteriores, Chile.
 the altiplano silala (siloli)915

The emerging accord was conceived along the lines set out in 2006
by the Governments of Bolivia and Chile to prioritize a confidence-
building agenda. Within this framework, they determined that some
subjects, such as the “maritime theme” and the “Silala issue”, should not
be omitted from their dialogue, although the latter had already been
part of the agenda since 2000. The political setting structured around
the dialogue in 2006 impacted positively on the exploration of innova-
tive elements relating to the uses of the Silala watercourse. Within this
framework, the existence of a controversy as such should not be the
central issue, but rather a contribution to the bilateral dialogue and the
ability to build support in the Bolivian internal debate.
The draft interim agreement reflected in the document agreed on in
November 2009 reveals that the Governments wholeheartedly tried to
build a consensus on the characteristics and utilization of the Silala in
both countries. Salient features of this agreement would be that Bolivia
moved forward from its position of denying that the water’s course was
natural, although it maintained that further joint studies were needed,
and that the point was not only about the hypothesis advanced by one
State over the other, but rather to build a regime for mutual benefit on
the basis of the existence of a watercourse valuable to both States. This
draft agreement was meant to be a test for a limited period of four
years.
This result reflects a commitment to progress in terms of coopera-
tion.48 Such elements not only reflect a concern to apply certain
concepts embodied in the general international law dealing with inter-
national watercourses, they also establish essential points to build
a basis for cooperation, such as measurements and data collection on
which to base future decisions. The Convention on the Law of the
Non-Navigational Uses of International Watercourses of 1997 certainly
has an influence on the definition of “watercourse” and on the useful-
ness of the paramount concept of equitable and reasonable
utilization.49

48
B. M. Mulligan & E. G. Eckstein, The Silala/Siloli watershed in Bolivia/Chile:
Lessons from the most vulnerable basin in South America, International Conference
“Transboundary Aquifers: Challenges and New Directions” (ISARM2010). http://www.
siagua.org/archivos_adjuntos/documentos/bolivia.pdf. Accessed 10 January 2011.
49
X. Fuentes, The Criteria for the Equitable Utilization of International Watercourses,
67 British Yearbook of International Law 337, at 339–340 (1996).
916 maría teresa infante caffi

Thus, the draft agreement has as its salient aspects the following
facts:
– It is oriented towards the preservation, sustainability and utilization
of the hydrological system of the Silala or Siloli to benefit the ripar-
ian countries.50
– The balance is not between the question of equitable and reasonable
utilization as opposed to the avoidance of significant harm to the
other State, but rather between the harmonization of the rights and
interests of existing users and new users who could emerge on the
Bolivian side. So, the validity of the utilization of a portion of the
waters in the territory of each country should be acknowledged.
– The agreement should serve to enable the carrying out of studies and
measurements to determine, inter alia, the status, hydrological bal-
ance, hydrometric situation and influence of civil works over the
flow.
– The agreement provides a basis on which to establish procedures
according to which Bolivia will, in conformity with the applicable
internal rules and the agreement itself, authorize the waters freely
available and captured in its own territory to be directed to Chile,
receiving compensation for this action. It means that the water
crossing the border should not be subject to constraint or legal pres-
sures put on the users in Chile. On the other hand, if there was no
utilization of the waters which accrued to Bolivia, there would be no
testing of the legitimacy of the waters crossing the border into Chile.
– The draft agreement should be based on the hypothesis that 50 per
cent of the total volume of the Silala’s waters that cross the border at
the surface would be assigned to Bolivia and that it could use them
freely. This flow could be utilized in Bolivia alone or captured and
directed to Chile, separately from the current stream.
– A network of stations for measuring factors and natural elements
was a key tool to encourage an approach according to which both
countries were able to work together to gain knowledge of the water-
course and other subjects, such as the placement of instruments in
the targeted area.
– Conciliation was selected as the preferred procedure for dispute set-
tlement.

50
Terms are to be applied and interpreted according to their normal use in the gen-
eral law of international watercourses. For the discussions in the negotiations of the
1997 United Nations Convention, see L. Caflisch, Regulation of the Uses of International
Watercourses, in: Salman/Boisson de Chazournes (note 9), 3, at 13–16.
 the altiplano silala (siloli)917

To build this legal and technical edifice a combination of applicable

international law with procedures and conceptual tools to deal with the
watercourse as a continuum was essential. In this respect, the idea that
the parties should take into account the fragility of the ecosystem of the
Silala, and commit themselves to maintaining the conditions of flow
and quality of the water upon which each country depends, as well as
to ensure that future works would not affect those elements, were the
basis of the due diligence standard of responsibility attributable to each
State.
In light of the above, the Silala or Siloli watercourse subjects the con-
cept of the “community of interests”51 to scrutiny. Therefore, the draft
agreement will be successful in this respect if it helps to prevent a wid-
ening of the discussion between Bolivia and Chile regarding the future
of their shared watercourses.

51
Case concerning the Gabčikovo-Nagymaros Project (Hungary v. Slovakia), ICJ
Reports 1997, 7, 56. The terms were also employed by the Permanent Court of
International Justice in the case of Territorial Jurisdiction of the International
Commission of the River Oder, PCIJ 1929, Series A, No. 23, 27.
 Protection and preservation of the marine
environment in the Area under UNCLOS

James L. Kateka

A. Introduction

The protection and preservation of the marine environment forms a

key part of the 1982 Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS or
LOSC). Part XII of the UNCLOS on the protection and preservation
of the marine environment was negotiated as part of the package
deal which led to the adoption of the Convention.1 Whereas Part XII
establishes the foundation for the international environmental law
of the sea,2 the Convention has other provisions on the protection of
the marine environment in several of its Parts.3 Specifically Part XI
contains provisions for the protection of the marine environment in
the Area.4 The negotiators at UNCLOS III recognized the importance
of preserving the marine environment in the Area which, together
with its resources, forms the common heritage of mankind.5 Given
the fact that Part XII negotiations were concluded before those of
Part XI, it was not necessary to repeat the basic text of Part XII in
the provisions for the Area since the Convention is to be applied
and interpreted as an integrated whole and in context. Thus in the
informal consultations concerning Part XI–which led to the 1994
Implementation Agreement6–it was decided to remove the issue of

1
The Convention was adopted on 30 April 1982 by vote of 130-4-17. It was opened
for signature on 10 December 1982 at Montego Bay, Jamaica.
2
See J. Charney, The Marine Environment and the 1982 UNCLOS, 28 The
International Lawyer 879 (1994).
3
Such as Arts. 21(1)(f) on the coastal State adopting laws and regulations for the
preservation of the marine environment and 56(1)(b)(iii) regarding the protection and
preservation of the marine environment in the EEZ by the coastal State.
4
Art. 1(1) of the UNCLOS states that the “Area” means the seabed and ocean floor
and subsoil thereof, beyond the limits of national jurisdiction.
5
See Art. 136 of the UNCLOS. Art. 140 provides that activities in the Area shall be
carried out for the benefit of mankind as a whole.
6
According to Art. 2 of the Annex to the 1994 Agreement, the provisions of
the Agreement and Part XI are to be interpreted and applied together as a single
920 james l. kateka

environmental considerations from the list of difficult issues, since it

was no longer considered to be a controversial issue in the context of
deep seabed mining.
With regard to UNCLOS, Rüdiger Wolfrum has written extensively
on the issues of the preservation of the marine environment which are
dear to him. Indeed, no fewer than ten of his many monographs deal
with issues of the environment. This contribution will consider the
provisions of the protection of the marine environment from the per-
spective of the Area by dealing with the concepts of due diligence, pre-
cautionary approach, environmental impact assessment (EIA), and
cooperation. Where it is relevant, the jurisprudence of the Tribunal will
be cited.

B. Relevant Instruments

Besides UNCLOS and the 1994 Agreement, there are the Regulations
on Prospecting and Exploration for Polymetallic Nodules7 in the Area
which were adopted on 13 July 2000 by the Council and the Assembly
of the International Seabed Authority (ISBA). Almost a decade later,
the same principal organs of the Authority8 adopted the Regulations on
Prospecting and Exploration for Polymetallic Sulphides on 7 May
2010.9 The two sets of regulations adopted so far are on prospecting
and exploration. This is because exploitation for deep sea minerals has
not yet begun.10 As such there is no experience on what the impact
could be in practice on the marine environment. However, the main
impacts of exploration activities on the marine environment are
expected to occur at the seafloor, while seafloor sediments will be
brought up along with the mineral ores and discharged on the surface.
The current knowledge of the potential impacts of deep sea mining in

instrument. In case of inconsistency between the Agreement and Part XI, the
Agreement is to prevail.
    7
Polymetallic nodules are mostly found in water depths of 4000–6000 metres
below the sea, often at distances of a few thousand kilometres from the nearest land
mass.
    8
See Art. 158 UNCLOS.
    9
The ISBA hopes to adopt the third set of regulations next year on Ferromanganese
Crusts.
10
It is hoped that the prospects for exploitation will improve with the involvement
of the private sector.
protection and preservation of the marine environment921

the marine ecosystem is limited. However, research is continuing with

experiments to assess the potential impacts.11
The Nodules and Sulphides Mining Codes form the key basis for
contracts between the Authority and the various contractors as pro-
vided for in Article 153 UNCLOS. The system for exploration and
exploitation of the resources of the Area is based on the scheme known
as the parallel system. This system has been modified by the 1994
Agreement, Annex, section 2. In effect, one arm of the system is dor-
mant, in that the Enterprise has neither the capital nor the technology
to carry out activities on its own. Even joint venture partners are not
available. It is thus left to commercial operators to carry out activities
in the Area. Activities in the Area are to be carried out with a formal
written plan of work in the form of a contract which requires an appli-
cant to be sponsored by a State Party to UNCLOS.12 Hence a three-way
set-up is created for the Authority, commercial operators and sponsor-
ing States. Each has its own responsibilities. The Authority is the organ-
ization through which States Parties organize and control activities in
the Area.13 It exercises control by issuing regulations14 (referred to
above), by concluding binding contracts with commercial operators
and by requiring the contractors to provide an annual plan of their
activities.15 In carrying out activities, the contractor is required to
observe the regulations on the protection of the marine environment.
These undertakings form part of the contract.16 In the scheme of things,
the contractor bears the primary responsibility, as will be discussed
below. The sponsoring State is liable in the event of failure to take
appropriate and necessary action by means of legislative and adminis-
trative measures.

11
The deep seafloor ecosystem is one of the largest on the planet, covering approxi-
mately 60% of the earth’s solid surface. In spite of this vast size, knowledge of the
deep seafloor is poor relative to other marine ecosystems (see A. G. Glover/C. R. Smith,
The Deep Seafloor Ecosystem: Current Status and Prospects of Anthropogenic Change
by the year 2025, 30 Environmental Conservation 219 (2003)).
12
See Annex III, Article 4 of the Convention.
13
Art. 157 UNCLOS.
14
These rules, regulations and procedures for the conduct of activities in the Area
relate to prospecting, exploration and exploitation in the Area (Art. 162(2) (o) of the
Convention).
15
See the oral statement of the International Seabed Authority during the oral hear-
ings by the ITLOS Seabed Disputes Chamber in Case No. 17, Responsibilities of States
Sponsoring Persons and Entities with respect to Activities in the International Seabed
Area (Request for Advisory Opinion Submitted to the Seabed Disputes Chamber),
ITLOS/PV.2010 Rev.1, available at http://www.itlos.org.
16
See Annex 4 to the regulations both for nodules and sulphides.
922 james l. kateka

C. Overview of some Provisions

“Activities in the Area” are defined as all activities of exploration for,

and exploitation of, the resources17 of the Area. The activities in the
Area have to be carried out in accordance with UNCLOS, the 1994
Agreement and the regulations mentioned above. While the definition
of “activities in the Area” refers to “resources”, it is to be read in the
context of the Convention as a whole and related instruments. The
activities have to be carried out taking into account the necessity for
the protection of the marine environment. The importance negotiators
of the UNCLOS attached to the protection of the environment in the
Area is reflected in Article 209 of the Convention. The Article calls for
the establishment of rules, regulations and procedures in accordance
with Part XI to prevent, reduce and control pollution of the marine
environment from activities in the Area. While it is not specified in
para. 1 of the Article–which is in Part XII of UNCLOS–who should
establish such regulations, it is interpreted that it is the obligation
of the Authority to do so.18 Furthermore, by Article 145 of Part XI,
the Authority is required to adopt necessary measures to ensure the
effective protection of the marine environment from harmful effects
which may arise from activities in the Area. In this regard, Wolfrum
states that “[t]his provision is dissatisfying with regard to environmen-
tal protection as it is void of substance”.19 Nevertheless, the defect in
this general requirement has been remedied by the adoption by the
Authority of detailed regulations on nodules and sulphides which
elaborate on obligations for the protection of the marine environment
by the commercial operator involved in deep seabed mining. These
regulations are to be found in the Nodules and Sulphides Mining
Codes.

17
Art. 133 states: For the purposes of this Part (XI): (a) “resources” means all solid
or gaseous mineral resources in situ in the Area at or beneath the seabed, including
polymetallic nodules; (b) resources, when recovered from the Area, are referred to as
“minerals”.
18
States are also required to adopt laws and regulations for protecting “the marine
environment from activities in the Area undertaken by vessels, installations, structures
and other devices flying their flag or of their registry or operating under their authority,
as the case may be”.
19
See R. Wolfrum, Purposes and Principles of International Environmental Law,
33 German Yearbook of International Law 308, at 323 (1990).
protection and preservation of the marine environment923

The Convention contains a definition of “pollution of the marine

environment”.20 This definition, with minor editorial changes, has been
taken from the definition of pollution of the marine environment
which was adopted by the Joint Group of Experts on the Scientific
Aspects of Marine Pollution (GESAMP). The UNCLOS does not define
the term “marine environment”. Instead, the regulations–for both nod-
ules and sulphides–define “marine environment” to include the physi-
cal, chemical, geological and biological components, conditions and
factors which interact and determine the productivity, state, condition
and quality of the marine ecosystem, the waters of the seas and oceans
and the airspace above those waters, as well as the seabed and ocean
floor and subsoil thereof.21 The definition of pollution of the marine
environment and that of marine pollution complement each. For the
regulations are subject to the Convention and the 1994 Agreement, and
as such cannot contradict those basic instruments. Part V of both sets
of regulations deals with the protection and preservation of the marine
environment, including the procedure for the application of emergency
orders.22 The key regulations are 31 and 32 of the Nodules Mining
Code and 33 and 35 of the Sulphides Mining Code. By these regula-
tions the Authority is under an obligation to establish and keep under
periodic review environmental rules, regulations and procedures to
ensure the effective protection of the marine environment from
harmful effects which may arise from the activities in the Area.23 Under
the regulations, the contractor is obliged to take the necessary meas-
ures to prevent, reduce and control pollution and other hazards to the
marine environment arising from activities in the Area as far as is rea-
sonably possible using the best technology available to it.24 The con-
tractor is required to gather environmental baseline data and to
establish environmental baselines against which to assess the likely
effects of its activities on the marine environment, taking into account

20
Art. 1(1)(4): “pollution of the marine environment” means the introduction
by man, directly or indirectly, of substances or energy into the marine environment,
including estuaries, which results or is likely to result in such deleterious effects as
harm to living resources and marine life, hazards to human health, hindrance to
marine activities, including fishing and other legitimate uses of the sea, impairment of
quality for use of sea water and reduction of amenities.
21
 Regulation 1(3)(c).
22
In accordance with Art. 162(2)(w).
23
Para. 1 of regulations 31 (nodules) and 33 (sulphides) respectively.
24
Para. 3 of regulations 31 and 33.
924 james l. kateka

any recommendations25 issued by the Legal and Technical Commission.

The regulations also provide for the Council of the ISBA to issue emer-
gency orders to prevent serious harm to the marine environment aris-
ing from activities in the Area.

D. Due Diligence

There is no agreed definition of the concept of due diligence.26 The

degree of due diligence seems to vary from one field to another. Thus
the degree of care for ultra-hazardous activities such as operating a
nuclear plant will be higher than that for operating a textile factory. In
addition, there is a temporal aspect to due diligence. What would be
considered a reasonable standard of care or due diligence may change
with time; what may be considered an appropriate and reasonable pro-
cedure, standard or rule at one point in time may not be considered
such at some point in future. Hence, due diligence in ensuring safety
requires a State to keep abreast of technological changes and scientific
developments.27 The ILC also puts emphasis on the continuing charac-
ter of the State’s legislative and administrative obligations,28 which
require to be taken from time to time to prevent transboundary harm.
The obligation of due diligence entails not only the adoption of appro-
priate rules and measures, but also a certain level of vigilance in their
enforcement and the exercise of administrative control applicable to

25
 Recommendations for the guidance of the contractors for the assessment of
the possible environmental impacts arising from exploration for polymetallic nodules
in the Area, issued by the LTC, document ISBA/7/LTC/1/Rev.1 of 13 February 2002.
26
X. Hanqin, Transboundary Damage in International Law, at 163 (2003) states that
due diligence “has been defined to mean what a responsible government should do
under normal conditions in a situation with its best practicable and available means,
with a view to fulfilling its international obligations”. B. Simma, The Work of the
International Law Commission at Its Fifty-Third Session (2001), 71 Nordic Journal of
International Law 123, at 140 (2002) writes: “Due diligence is perceived as the degree
of care that is expected of a good government. In particular, it involves the existence of
a legal system and sufficient resources to maintain adequate administrative control of
hazardous activities. In order to comply with this obligation of due diligence, states
may be obliged to, inter alia, adopt national legislation incorporating internationally
recognized standards and resort to measures of abundant caution, even if full scientific
certainty may not (yet) exist” (the last phrase refers to the precautionary approach).
27
ILC Commentary to Article 3 of the Draft Articles on Prevention of transbound-
ary harm from hazardous activities, Report of the ILC, Fifty-third session, UN GAOR
56th. Sess., Supp. 10, UN Doc. A/56/10 (2001), at 394, para. 11.
28
Commentary to Article 5, id., at 398, para. 1.
protection and preservation of the marine environment925

public and private operators, such as the monitoring of activities

undertaken by such operators to safeguard the rights of the other
party.29
The concept of due diligence is reflected in Article 194(2) of the
UNCLOS.30 This Article is based on principle 21 of the Stockholm
Declaration on the Human Environment, 1972. In this regard, it was
stated by the ICJ that the obligation of States to ensure that activities
within their jurisdiction and control respect the environment of other
States is part of general international law.31 In the context of the preser-
vation of the marine environment in the Area, States Parties have the
responsibility to ensure that activities by commercial operators are
carried out in conformity with Part XI.32 The sponsoring State of a
contractor is responsible for ensuring that the contractor discharges
its obligations when carrying out activities in the Area, including for
the protection of the marine environment. A sponsoring State is lia-
ble only for its failure to discharge its obligations under the Convention.
The obligations involve legislative and administrative measures by the
sponsoring State. These are obligations of conduct which require the
State to do its best to regulate and control the contractor’s activities in
the Area. These are tantamount to obligations of due diligence. The
contractor bears the responsibility and liability for any damage arising
out of wrongful acts in the conduct of its operations.33 The contributory
acts or omissions of the Authority are to be taken into account, as the
responsibility to monitor the activities of the contractor in the Area
is the Authority’s. In this connection, Article 215 on the enforcement
of international rules, regulations and procedures established in

29
Case concerning Pulp Mills on the River Uruguay (Argentina v. Uruguay),
Judgment of 20 April 2010, document available at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/
files/135/15877.pdf, para. 197.
30
States shall take all measures necessary to ensure that activities under their juris-
diction or control are so conducted as not to cause damage by pollution to other States
and their environment, and that pollution arising from incidents or activities under
their jurisdiction or control does not spread beyond the areas where they exercise sov-
ereign rights in accordance with this Convention.
31
“The existence of the general obligation of States to ensure that activities within
their jurisdiction and control respect the environment of other States or of areas
beyond national control is now part of the corpus of international law relating to the
environment.” (Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons, Advisory Opinion,
ICJ Reports 1996, 226 (241–242)). This statement was recalled in the Pulp Mills case
(note 29), para. 193.
32
Art. 139 of the UNCLOS.
33
Art. 22 of Annex III of the Convention.
926 james l. kateka

accordance with Part XI to prevent, reduce and control pollution of the

marine environment from activities in the Area should be interpreted
to mean the Regulations on Nodules and Sulphides.

E. Precautionary Approach

The precautionary approach or principle is not defined in the

Convention; nor is it clearly spelt out in the UNCLOS. It seems that
there is a reluctance to spell out the precautionary principle. While the
concept is spelt out in regulations 31 and 33 of the Nodules and
Sulphides Codes, respectively, the definition of “precautionary meas-
ures”34 which was in the Authority’s draft of 16 August 1999 was omit-
ted from the Draft Regulations of 21 June 2000. Since the definition is
based on principle 15 of the Rio Declaration which has been criticized
for being phrased in general terms and not spelling out what cost-effec-
tive measures35 are, maybe this can explain the reluctance to define the
concept of the precautionary approach. However, other international
legal instruments have defined the precautionary principle. For exam-
ple, Article 6(2) of the 1995 Agreement relating to the conservations
and management of Straddling Fish Stocks and Highly Migratory
Fish Stocks (FSA) provides that “States shall be cautious when infor-
mation is uncertain, unreliable or inadequate. The absence of adequate
scientific information shall not be used as a reason for postponing or
failing to take conservation and management measures.” Without
going into a detailed explanation, it seems that the FSA definition is apt
because it is specific to the marine living resources for which there is
ample provision in the UNCLOS. This is not the case with the Rio prin-
ciple, which is of general application. Another definition is to be found
in Article 1 of the SADC Protocol36 on Fisheries which states that the

34
 Regulation 1(e): “precautionary measures” means that where there are threats of
serious or irreversible damage to the marine environment, lack of full scientific cer-
tainty shall not be used as a reason for postponing of effective measures to prevent
environmental degradation (see ISBA/5/C/CRP.2 of 16 August 1999). This definition is
similar to that of Principle 15 of the Rio Declaration on Environment and Development,
UN Doc. A/Conf.151/26/Vol. I/Ann. I (1992).
35
A. Boyle, The Environmental Jurisprudence of the ITLOS, 22 International
Journal of Marine and Coastal Law 369, at 374 (2007).
36
See also the definition in the Draft International Covenant on the Environment
and Development by the Commission on Environmental Law of IUCN and the
International Council of Environmental Law in Art. 7: “Precaution requires taking
appropriate action to anticipate, prevent and monitor the risks of potentially serious or
protection and preservation of the marine environment927

“precautionary approach” is the application of caution to the conserva-

tion, management and exploitation of fish stocks and aquatic ecosys-
tems when information is uncertain, unreliable or inadequate. The
same explanation as for the FSA applies to the SADC Protocol.
The same reluctance to define or make an express reference to the
precautionary approach is to be found in the ITLOS jurisprudence. In
the Southern Bluefin Tuna cases (New Zealand v. Japan; Australia v.
Japan) Order of 27 August 1999, the Tribunal made an indirect refer-
ence to the precautionary approach by stating that the parties should
act with prudence and caution to ensure that effective conservation
measures are taken to prevent harm to the Southern Bluefin tuna
stock.37 The Tribunal referred to scientific uncertainty regarding meas-
ures to be taken to conserve the stock of southern bluefin tuna.38 It
added that, although the Tribunal could not conclusively assess the sci-
entific evidence presented by the parties, it found that measures should
be taken as a matter of urgency to preserve the rights of the parties.
This cautious approach by the Tribunal to the precautionary principle
was criticized by some judges39 in their separate opinions.
The above reluctance to cite expressly the precautionary approach
has been abandoned by the ISBA. Regulation 31 para. 2 of the Nodules
Mining Code requires the Authority and sponsoring States to apply
the precautionary approach, as reflected in principle 15 of the Rio
Declaration in order to ensure effective protection for the marine
environment from harmful effects which may arise from activities in
the Area. Interestingly, in the Nodules Regulations, the contractor is
merely required to take necessary measures against pollution of the

irreversible damage from human activities, even without scientific certainty”, available
at http://www.i-c-e-l.org/english/EPLP31EN_rev2.pdf.
37
ITLOS, Southern Bluefin Tuna (New Zealand v. Japan; Australia v. Japan), ITLOS
Reports of Judgments, Advisory Opinions and Orders 1999, 280, para. 77.
38
Id., para. 79.
39
Judge Treves regrets the fact that the precautionary approach is not explicitly
stated in the Order. Judge ad hoc Shearer concludes that whereas the Tribunal has not
found it necessary to enter into a discussion of the precautionary approach, he believes
that the measures ordered by the Tribunal are rightly based upon considerations deriv-
ing from a precautionary approach, id., 326–327. In the ITLOS Mox Plant case (Ireland
v. United Kingdom), Order on Provisional Measures, ITLOS Reports of Judgments,
Advisory Opinions and Orders 2001, 95, 148–149 Judge ad hoc Szekely comments that
in the face of “such uncertainty” (i.e. legal and scientific support), the Tribunal should
have been responsive to the Irish demands regarding the application of the precaution-
ary principle (para. 22). Judge Szekely shared the opinion stated by Judge Shearer
above in the Southern Bluefin Tuna case.
928 james l. kateka

Area “as far as reasonably possible using the best technology available
to it”. The contractor is not expressly required to apply the precaution-
ary principle as the Authority and the sponsoring States are obliged to.
However in the Sulphides Regulations, each contractor is specifically
required to apply “a precautionary approach and best environmental
practices” in taking necessary measures to prevent and control pollu-
tion of the marine environment. In the Sulphides Regulations, the pre-
cautionary principle is spelt out more clearly than in the Nodules
Regulations. Maybe this is because the LTC had the benefit of ten years’
experience after the adoption of the Nodules Regulations. The Legal
and Technical Commission has not yet developed procedures for
determining, on the basis of the best available scientific and technical
information, the impact of the proposed activities on vulnerable
marine ecosystems in the Area. As the Sulphides Regulations were
adopted recently (May 2010), the LTC will need further time to study
the subject.40

F. Environmental Impact Assessment (EIA)

Environmental impact assessment is now considered a requirement

under general international law where there is a risk that the proposed
activity may have a significant adverse impact in a transboundary con-
text.41 An EIA must be conducted prior to the implementation of a pro-
ject. The EIA is provided for by Article 206 of the Convention, although
it is for planned activities within States’ jurisdiction and not for the
Area. As regards the Area, the regulations require contractors, spon-
soring States and other interested States or entities to cooperate with
the Authority in the establishment and implementation of programmes
for monitoring and evaluating the impacts of deep seabed mining on

40
See Regulation 41 on the LTC issuing recommendations of a technical or admin-
istrative nature for the guidance of contractors to assist them in the implementation of
the rules, regulations and procedures of the Authority.
41
Pulp Mills case (note 29), para. 204. See also Art. 7 of the ILC Draft Articles on
Prevention which provides that: “Any decision in respect of the authorization of an
activity within the scope of the present Articles shall, in particular, be based on an
assessment of the possible transboundary harm caused by that activity, including any
environmental impact.” The commentary to the Article states that the requirement of
Art. 7 (for an EIA) is fully consonant with principle 17 of the Rio Declaration on
Environment and Development (see supra note 34), which also provides for assess-
ment of the risk of activities which are likely to have a significant adverse impact on the
environment.
protection and preservation of the marine environment929

the marine environment.42 This is a requirement for EIA. It is repeated

in section 5 of the standard clauses for an exploration contract in
Annex 4 to the Nodules Regulations.43 Here, it may be noted that the
concept of EIA is linked to due diligence. In the Pulp Mills case, the ICJ
stated that due diligence, and the duty of vigilance and prevention
which it implies, would not be considered to have been exercised, if a
party planning works liable to affect the regime of the river (Uruguay)
or the quality of its waters did not undertake an EIA on the potential
effect of such works.44 In this case, both Argentina and Uruguay
accepted the necessity of conducting an EIA. The Parties disagreed
with regard to the scope and content of the EIA which Uruguay should
have carried out with regard to the mill project. In the Pulp Mills case,
the Court made some important pronouncements about the EIA which
have helped to clarify the concept.

G. Cooperation

The 1982 Convention refers to cooperation on global and regional lev-

els in section 2 of Part XII. In particular Article 297 requires States to
cooperate in formulating and elaborating international rules and
standards for the protection of the marine environment. Article 123 in
Part IX of the Convention also provides for States bordering enclosed
or semi-enclosed seas to cooperate with each other with regard to the
protection and preservation of the marine environment. In the Mox
Plant case, Ireland pleaded both Articles. It submitted that the United
Kingdom had breached its obligations under Arts. 123 and 197 of
UNCLOS in relation to the authorization of the Mox plant, and had
failed to cooperate with Ireland and/or refused to carry out a proper
EIA. In its Order of 3 December 2001, the Tribunal stated that “the
duty to cooperate is a fundamental principle in the prevention of pol-
lution of the marine environment under Part XII of the Convention
and general international law and … rights arise therefrom which the

42
 Regulations 31(6) and 33(6) of the Nodules and Sulphides Mining Codes,
respectively.
43
Section 5 of Annex 4 to the Sulphides Regulations sets out the same obligation on
contractors, but also specifically refers to the “applying of a precautionary approach
and best environmental practices”, terminology which is not used in the Nodules
Regulations.
44
Id. para. 204.
930 james l. kateka

Tribunal may consider appropriate to preserve under Article 290 of the

Convention”.45 The duty involves consultations, exchange of informa-
tion and negotiations among the parties concerned. More relevant is
Article 160(2) (j) of the Convention whereby the Assembly of the
Authority has the function of initiating studies and making recom-
mendations for the purpose of promoting international cooperation
concerning activities in the Area. This is linked to the tripartite coop-
eration involving contractors, sponsoring States and other interested
States or entities with the Authority to establish and implement pro-
grammes for monitoring and evaluating impacts of deep seabed min-
ing on the marine environment. Each of the three parties to the
tripartite arrangement has its obligations. The contractor has the main
obligation, as already stated above. The Authority exercises control
over activities in the Area through the link which is established with
the sponsoring State. Under the Convention and regulations, there can
never be a situation where there is no sponsoring State. A contractor
must have a sponsoring State at all times during the contract period.46
This interlinked relationship ensures that the contractor will at all times
be monitored regarding and answerable for its activities in the Area, in
particular concerning the preservation of the marine environment.
The contractor bears the responsibility and liability, subject to the pro-
visions cited above concerning the obligations of the Authority and the
sponsoring State. A further guarantee is that the dispute settlement
provisions of Part XII are subject to the dispute settlement procedures
under Part XV of the Convention. Equally, the dispute settlement pro-
cedures under Part XI apply. Article 187 is crucial for disputes between
parties to a contract.47

H. Conclusion

The carrying out of activities in the Area is the main preoccupation of

the commercial operator. But of equal importance is the protection and

45
Mox Plant case, supra note 39, para. 82. This was restated in the Case concerning
Land Reclamation by Singapore in and around the Straits of Johor (Malaysia v.
Singapore), Provisional Measures, Order of 8 October 2003, ITLOS Reports of
Judgments, Advisory Opinions and Orders 2003, 4, para. 92.
46
ISBA statement, see supra note 15, at 18.
47
Art. 187(c) identifies the parties as States Parties, the Authority or the Enterprise,
State enterprises and natural or juridical persons referred to in Art. 153(2)(b). See also
Arts. 191 and 159(1) concerning advisory opinions by the Seabed Disputes Chamber.
protection and preservation of the marine environment931

preservation of the marine environment. Neither of these two central

issues can be invoked at the expense of the other. There has to be a bal-
ance between the two. The implementation of Part XI is still at an early
stage because exploitation of the deep seabed has not yet commenced.
We must wait to see how much the marine environment will be
impacted upon by activities in the Area. While there have not been
many cases on environmental matters before either the ITLOS or other
courts, a start has been made with the recent request by the Council of
the ISBA for an advisory opinion on obligations and liabilities of the
sponsoring State. It is most likely that the Seabed Disputes Chamber
will have to deal with issues of the preservation of the marine environ-
ment in the Area.
 Cable and Pipeline Surveys at Sea

Rainer Lagoni

A. Introduction

In connection with intercontinental telecommunication through mod-

ern fibre-optic cables and with the transmission of electric energy
through submarine coaxial copper cables (power cables) between
coasts or from offshore windparks to the coast a great and still growing
number of submarine cables have been laid in recent years. There are
also scientific and military cables, but they are not so abundant.
Concurrently the increasing transport of oil and gas from offshore
sources and between countries has led to new submarine pipelines, so
that cables and pipelines are nowadays a permanent technical infra-
structure in certain maritime areas. The delineation of the course for
the laying of a submarine cable or pipeline makes a careful investiga-
tion of the relevant sea-bed conditions in the envisaged area necessary.
This investigation is to avoid risks for the future cable or pipeline1 and
minimize potential conflicts with other uses of the sea.2 On the other
hand, cables and pipelines already in position on the sea-bed have to be
controlled in place on a routine basis or ad hoc, for example in order to
ascertain their route in the event of damage or when another cable or
pipeline needs to be laid across them. The necessary surveys, as these
investigations are generally called, are conducted at sea for the cable or
pipeline owner or for a hydrographic office by specially equipped ships
of survey enterprises.

1
S. Coffen-Smout/G. J. Herbert, Submarine cables: a challenge for ocean manage-
ment, 24 Marine Policy 441, at 443 (2000), mention as the purpose of surveys for cable
routeing avoiding areas susceptible to disruption by earthquakes, munitions dumps,
canyons, shipping routes, and bottom fishing gear. The required information may ini-
tially be gathered by desktop studies; see International Cable Protection Committee
(ICPC Ltd.), Recommendation No. 9, Minimum Technical Requirements for a Desktop
Study (2008) (also known as Cable Route Study), available at http://www.iscpc.org.
These studies are left out of consideration here because they do not affect the rights of
other States.
2
See R. Lagoni, Legal Aspects of Submarine High Voltage Direct Current (HVDC)
Cables, at 65–66 (1998).
934 rainer lagoni

These surveys give rise to several questions of international law, in

particular if they take place on the continental shelf or in the exclusive
economic zone of another State, where both the coastal State and the
laying State have certain rights. The 1982 Law of the Sea Convention
(LOSC) regulates the laying and maintenance of submarine cables and
pipelines, but it does not mention surveys.3 Therefore questions arise
how these surveys may be classified in international law and how the
conflicting interests of the relevant States may be squared. These issues
will be considered after some preliminary observations in the
following.

B. Distinction between Cable and Pipeline Surveys and

other Maritime Activities

In order to classify cable and pipeline surveys in international law, first

they have to be distinguished from other activities at sea which are
regulated in the Law of the Sea Convention. Ships conducting cable or
pipeline surveys are normally using equipment and methods which are
used similarly for purposes of marine scientific research. Surveys of the
water column for the purpose of charting the route of a cable or a pipe-
line make use of high resolution multi-beam systems, single-beam
echo-sounders and side-scan sonars for the collection of bathymetric
and geo-morphological data. When the cable or pipeline shall be
“trenched” (i.e. buried under the sea-floor) in order to protect it against
natural hazards such as currents and waves or against damage from
fishing gear or anchors, the necessary geophysical survey also includes
the taking of samples from the sea-bed and measuring the mechanical
resistance of the sea-bed (soil resistivity). Despite these technical simi-
larities, cable or pipeline surveys are not marine scientific research.
Being regulated (but not defined) in Part XIII of the Law of the Sea
Convention, marine scientific research in the exclusive economic zone
and on the continental shelf is subject to the consent of the coastal

3
The telecommunication industry urged the U.S. Delegation without success dur-
ing the Third UN Conference on the Law of the Sea to include language in the
Convention which would encompass, within the freedom to lay and repair cables,
inter alia “route surveys” and prevent coastal nations in their exclusive economic zones
or upon their continental shelves from restricting these activities, see the Testimony of
D. R. Burnett before the U.S. Senate Committee on Foreign Relations on Oc
tober 4, 2007, at 3, available at http://foreign.senate.gov/imo/media/doc
/BurnettTestimony071004.pdf.
 cable and pipeline surveys at sea935

State,4 which inter alia has a right to participate in the research project
on board the research vessel.5 Because its principal purpose is to con-
tribute to the internationally available scientific knowledge about the
sea, its results should, as soon as possible, be made internationally
available, whereas cable and pipeline surveys enable the owners of
these devices to lay and maintain them. Accordingly the data gained
through cable and pipeline surveys are generally not published.
Taking samples from the sea-bed during a survey, however, may not
amount to an exploration of the continental shelf. Such exploration,
which means searching for natural resources in order to exploit them,
implies various hydrological, geological and geo-morphological means
including echo-sounding, the collection of seismic data of the subsoil
and drilling. The coastal State has an exclusive sovereign right to
explore its continental shelf and to exploit its natural resources. All
activities affecting this right, such as, for example, seismic exploration
of the subsoil or drilling on the continental shelf,6 are subject to its
authorization. These activities are generally not applied for cable and
pipeline surveys. Penetrating the sea-bed with a cone in order to meas-
ure the soil resistivity is not exploration of its resources, and samples
taken from the sea-bed are dumped in place again after visual inspec-
tion on board. Trenches for burying a cable or pipeline (usually between
1 and 3.5 m) in the sea-bed are again filled in during the laying.
The surveys mentioned are also distinct from the construction and
operation of installations and structures on the continental shelf, which is
the exclusive right of the coastal State.7 Cables and pipelines are not
installations or structures in the sense of the Convention;8 their laying
and maintenance are not regulated in Article 60 of the Law of the Sea
Convention.
Hence the authorization of the coastal State, which is necessary for
activities relating to its sovereign rights and exclusive jurisdiction, is
generally not required for such surveys (for exceptions see infra F.V).

4
 Article 246(2) LOSC.
5
 Article 249(1) lit. (a) LOSC.
6
 Article 81 LOSC.
7
 Article 80 and Article 60(1) LOSC.
8
See R. Lagoni, Festlandsockel, in: W. Graf Vitzthum (ed.), Handbuch des Seerechts,
166, at 203 (2006). See also regarding pipelines W. Wiese, Grenzüberschreitende
Landrohrleitungen und seeverlegte Rohrleitungen im Völkerrecht, at 173 (1997); E. D.
Brown, The Significance of a Possible EC EEZ for the Law Relating to Artificial Islands,
Installations, and Structures, and to Cables and Pipelines, in the Exclusive Economic
Zone, 23 Ocean Development and International Law 115, at 138 (1992).
936 rainer lagoni

And even if a survey uses similar methods like marine scientific

research or the exploration of the sea-bed, it is serving fundamentally
different purposes from these activities. But is this distinction recog-
nized in the relevant practice of States?

C. State Practice Relating to the Surveys

Two considerations apparently play a role for several coastal States in

their attitude to foreign survey activities on the continental shelf: The
methods of the surveying are determined by the party carrying out the
activities–this creates a certain element of subjectivity.9 And without
further information and the possibility of control, it may be difficult to
find out the actual purpose, scope and methods of a survey. Because of
this uncertainty and lack of information, several coastal States make
any kind of research or survey activities on their continental shelves
subject to their authorization and provide opportunities for their con-
trol in their domestic law.
According to the Provisions Governing the Laying of Submarine
Cables and Pipelines of 1989 of the People’s Republic of China10 foreign
companies, enterprises and other foreign economic organizations or
individuals, which intend to lay submarine cables and pipelines and
also “to conduct investigations and surveys of routes and other relevant
activities” for these engineering projects on the continental shelves of
the People’s Republic of China must apply to the competent authorities
for approval; if they need to carry out such activities they must notify
the competent authorities in advance, but the routes they select and
decide on for the laying of cables and pipelines must have the consent
of the competent authorities. Similarly, the Regulations of Permission
on Delineation of Course for Laying, Maintaining, or Modifying of
Submarine Cables or Pipelines on the Continental Shelf of the Republic
of China (Taiwan) of 200011 require a written application for a “course

9
See J.-P. Queneudec, Chronique du droit de la mer, 27 Annuaire Français de Droit
International 674, at 679 (1981); D. P. O’Connell/ I. A. Shearer (ed.), The International
Law of the Sea, Vol. II, at 1030 (1984); Lagoni (note 2), at 66.
10
 Article 4(2) of the Provisions, which were adopted by the 32nd Executive Meeting
of the State Council on 20 January 1989, promulgated by Decree No. 27 of the State
Council of the People’s Republic of China on 11 February 1989, and effective as of 1
March 1989, available at http://www.asianlii.org/cn/legis/cen/laws/pgtloscap600.
11
 Article 4, promulgated by Tai 89 Nei Tzu No. 02361 of the Executive Yuan of the
Republic China on 26 January 2000, and effective as of the date of promulgation, avail-
able at http://www.land.moi.gov.tw/law/efile/72-1.doc.
 cable and pipeline surveys at sea937

survey” made to the competent authority to include detailed informa-

tion about the geographical area covered by the survey, and on the
duration, content, method, and equipment to be used for the survey
work. The cable or pipeline owner must also submit information con-
cerning the vessel to be used for the course survey. The application for
the “course survey” shall precede the mandatory application for the
“course delineation”.
Other States have promulgated laws and regulations, however with-
out expressly referring to cable and pipelines surveys, which virtually
apply to these maritime activities as well. Usually they are adopted in
the context of provisions on marine scientific research12 or on the
exploration of the continental shelf13 and the exclusive economic
zone.14 Typical examples are provisions relating to “surveys” on the
continental shelf or in the exclusive economic zone. In this context,
“survey” generally means an examination of the conditions of an area
including the sea-bed. For example, according to Article 5 of the 1968
Decree on the Continental Shelf of the USSR “surveying, exploring or
exploiting the national resources or carrying out any other activity on
the continental shelf ” was prohibited for foreign physical or juridical
persons, “unless such activity is specifically provided for by an agree-
ment […] or by special permission granted by the competent authori-
ties of the USSR”.15 Less detailed is a Decree of 1977 of the Democratic
People’s Republic of Korea16 which requires prior approval of the compe-
tent authorities if a foreign person or vessel wishes to investigate or
“survey” in the exclusive economic zone. The Netherlands have in their

12
 Relevant laws are collected in United Nations Office of Ocean Affairs and the Law
of the Sea (ed.), The Law of the Sea. National Legislation, Regulations and Supplementary
Documents on Marine Scientific Research in Areas Under National Jurisdiction
(1989).
13
See the laws in United Nations Office of Ocean Affairs and the Law of the Sea
(ed.), The Law of the Sea. National Legislation on the Continental Shelf (1989).
14
For collections of the relevant laws see United Nations Office of the Special
Representative of the Secretary-General for the Law of the Sea (ed.), The Law of the
Sea. National Legislation on the Exclusive Economic Zone, the Economic Zone and the
Exclusive Fisheries Zone (1986); United Nations Division of Ocean Affairs and the Law
of the Sea, Office of Legal Affairs (ed.), The Law of the Sea. National Legislation on the
Exclusive Economic Zone (1993).
15
 USSR, Decree of 1968, Article 5 (emphasis added); see supra note 13, at 255;
according to Article 2 of a Decree of 1969, “special authorization for the conduct of
research […] and the execution of other works on the continental shelf ” by foreigners
shall “be issued in a manner and under conditions to be determined by the Council of
Ministers of the USSR”.
16
 Democratic PR of Korea, Decree of 1977, section 6; see supra note 14 (1993 docu-
ment), at 71.
938 rainer lagoni

Continental Shelf Mining Act of 196517 forbidden anyone “to conduct

surveys [without a licence] on or above the continental shelf whereby
the presence of minerals in or on that shelf can be proven”; but exemp-
tions may be granted for surveys “which are neither reconnaissance
surveys nor prospecting surveys”.
Another occasionally used term is “research”. In this context it
generally means a careful study of the sea-bed, especially in order to
discover new facts or to obtain information about it. Pursuant to the
1976 Maritime Zones Act of India, “no person (including a foreign
Government) shall, except under, and in accordance with the terms
of a license or letter of authority, granted by the Central Government,
[…] conduct any research within the continental shelf […] for any pur-
pose whatsoever”.18 The text of such a sweeping regulation probably
includes cable and pipeline surveys. Under the law of the Federal
Republic of Germany, a permit is required “for the investigation of the
continental shelf undertaken on the spot, to carry out research activi-
ties which by their very nature are obviously not suited for the explora-
tion for or the discovery of mineral resources”.19 Such “research
activities” include cable and pipeline surveys.
However, it is often not quite clear how the coastal State will inter-
pret and apply its provisions in practice. In Brazil, for example,
“exploration and research” carried out by aliens on the continental
shelf requires the authorization of the President of the Republic,
whereby the term “research” includes “all activities” carried out on the
continental shelf involving inter alia oceanographic investigation.20
In Argentina21 scientific and “technical research activities” carried out
on the continental shelf are subject to prior authorization, whilst
the 1975 Supreme Decree of Chile22 uses the term “technological
research”. Peru, which claims a “maritime dominium” of 200 nautical

17
 Netherlands, Law 1965, section 2(1) and (3), while “fundamental scientific
research” is regulated in section 2(2); see supra note 12, at 186.
18
 India, Act 1976, section 6(4); see supra note 13, at 129.
19
Germany, Federal Mining Law 1980, Article 132; see supra note 12, at 117; see
also the repealed Act of 1964 Relating to the Continental Shelf, Article 1, see supra note
13, at 110; see also the German Note to the United Nations of 25 July 1988 on the rules
and administrative practice in force, see supra note 12, at 114.
20
 Brazil, Decree 1968, Article 1(c) and Article 4, see supra note 13, at 55.
21
 Argentina, Act 1973, Article 1, see supra note 12, at 19.
22
Chile, Supreme Decree 1975, Article 1, see supra note 12, at 65.
 cable and pipeline surveys at sea939

miles,23 adopted regulations for “technological research vessels”. Here

again, a distinction between cable and pipeline surveys and other
“technical” research activities may come into play.
Little doubt arises, however, if the regulation makes any activity
whatsoever by foreigners on the continental shelf subject to an authori-
zation from the coastal State. In Cambodia “all activities carried out by
foreigners on the continental shelf […] for whatever end, must be the
object of an authorization or an agreement by the Government […]
and conform with the laws and regulations of the People’s Republic of
Kampuchea”.24 Similarly in Democratic Yemen all foreigners are banned
“from conducting any operational or maintenance work for any pur-
pose, unless he has entered into a special agreement with the Republic
for this purpose or obtained a special permit from its competent
authorities”.25
Hence, some coastal States have adopted laws which regulate cable
and pipeline surveys, but these activities are rarely mentioned (China,
Taiwan). Provisions generally on “surveys” on the continental shelf or
in the exclusive economic zone (USSR, PR Korea, Netherlands) or on
“research” for any purpose (India, Germany) or “technical research”
(Brazil, Argentina, Peru) may also apply to cable and pipeline surveys.
All these provisions require an authorization, however for different
reasons: either the coastal State also makes the delineation of the course
for the laying of cables subject to its consent (see infra F.III) or it claims
jurisdiction over any kind of survey or research on its continental shelf.
Few States have excluded any kind of activity whatsoever by foreigners
on their continental shelves (Cambodia, Yemen). One should keep in
mind however that some of the laws and regulations mentioned were
adopted before the Law of the Sea Convention entered into force for
the coastal State in question. This contributes to the impression that,
despite the considerable number of States which have promulgated
such laws and regulations, State practice relating to cable and pipeline
surveys is neither consistent nor generally accepted as yet.26

23
Peru, Presidential Decree 1947, section 3, see supra note 13, at 218.
24
 Democratic Kampuchea, Decree of 1982, Article 6(4), see supra note 13, at 71.
25
 Democratic Yemen, Act 1977, Article 20, see supra note 13, at 73.
26
 Accordingly States or private enterprises intending to conduct surveys on a for-
eign continental shelf are well advised to undertake a careful prior examination of the
940 rainer lagoni

D. Views in the Legal Literature

Cable or pipeline surveys are rarely considered in the legal literature.

Only a few publications briefly mention such surveys and a pains
taking legal analysis of this topic is still lacking. In 1981 Jean-Pierre
Queneudec rightly noted that the laying of a new cable cannot be
undertaken without preliminary studies of the sea-bed to determine
the best route.27 The author asked several pertinent questions–without,
however, offering answers for them. May the coastal State oppose cable
surveys in zones where it exercises national jurisdiction? Do
they require prior consultations? Would prior notification be sufficient
or is prior consent required for preparatory studies? May a coastal
State assimilate the reconnaissance work for a new cable route to the
research or exploration of the sea-bed for which it has, pursuant to
Article 246 of the (at that time still) Draft Convention, a discre
tionary power in its exclusive economic zone or on its continental
shelf?
In 1990 Marc Roelandt rightly observed in his book on pipelines that
it would be difficult to assume that a preceding and indispensable
condition for the exercise of this right should be prohibited if the right
to lay and to maintain a pipeline is explicitly recognized.28 He inter-
preted the notion of the “right to lay and to sustain” in a broad sense so
that it would include all practical aspects to effectuating the law
including the right of other States to conduct geological studies in the
area in order to choose the best route for the pipeline. In his
dissertation on pipelines, Wolfgang Wiese shared Roelandt’s view and
held that the coastal State has to tolerate preparatory surveys for laying
submarine cables in accordance with Article 79(2) LOSC on its
continental shelf or in its exclusive economic zone.29 In a study on
submarine power cables, the author of this article did not contest
this view, but tried to find a solution in line with German State
practice.30

applicable national rules and regulations of the coastal State, see also R. W. Smith,
Exclusive Economic Zone Claims. An Analysis and Primary Documents, at 32 (1986).
27
Queneudec (note 9), at 678.
28
M. Roelandt, La condition juridique des pipelines dans le droit de la mer, at 128
(1990). The author referred to Article 4 of the Continental Shelf Convention of 1958
because the Law of the Sea Convention was not yet in force.
29
Wiese (note 8), at 261.
30
 Lagoni (note 2), at 66.
 cable and pipeline surveys at sea941

E. Cable and Pipeline Surveys and the Law of the Sea

Convention

I. The functional Link between Surveys and the Laying of Cables and
Pipelines
How should one classify the legal nature of activities on the continental
shelf or in an exclusive economic zone which are neither mentioned in
the Law of the Sea Convention nor governed by customary interna-
tional law? One possibility could be to consider cable and pipeline sur-
veys as the exercise of a not expressly mentioned freedom of the high
seas alongside the “freedom to lay submarine cables and pipelines” set
out in Article 87(1) lit. (c) LOSC. But such approach would fail to rec-
ognize the particular function of the surveys; neither could it explain
the particular legal limits and restrictions on these activities in the
maritime area.
Instead one might allege with Roelandt31 a comprehensive meaning
of the concept of laying cables and pipelines which would also include
preparatory measures for these activities. However, the plain meaning
of the word “laying” gives some reason for doubt. “Laying” means plac-
ing something on a surface–in the case of a submarine cable or pipe-
line, on the sea-bed. Surveys, no doubt, are related to the laying of
cables or pipelines, but they are different activities. The cables and
pipelines are laid from cable ships and pipeline ships, while surveys are
usually conducted from other ships which often belong to different
owners and fly different flags. And the enterprises engaged in the sur-
vey and the laying may also come from different countries and operate
under separate contracts and laws.
Notwithstanding these differences, both the surveys and the
laying are conducted by order and on behalf of the cable or pipeline
enterprise which owns the property rights in the cable or pipeline.
These surveys are intrinsically linked and associated with the laying or
maintenance and repair of the respective cables and pipelines because
they are conducted exclusively for this purpose. This functional
link characterizes their legal nature and operational structure. And it is
this link which forms the necessary conceptual bridge between the
surveys and the laying or maintenance of the cables and pipelines.
Therefore one may rightly state that the freedom to lay cables and

31
See Roelandt (note 28), at 128.
942 rainer lagoni

pipelines also implies an associated freedom to conduct the necessary

surveys.
On the other hand, if the laying of a cable or pipeline is not permis-
sible, surveys are also not permissible–a statement which already antic-
ipates certain limits on the abovementioned freedom. But before
expounding on this, one should first ask whether and how this func-
tional link is present within the framework of the Convention. The
appropriate gateways are the freedoms and rights to lay and maintain
cables and pipelines in the different jurisdictional zones.

II. Surveys in the Exclusive Economic Zone (Article 58(1) LOSC)

The laying of submarine cables in the exclusive economic zone is regu-
lated in Article 58(1) LOSC. The relevant text of this complex article
reads:
1. In the exclusive economic zone, all States, whether coastal or land-
locked, enjoy, subject to the relevant provisions of this Convention, the
freedoms referred to in article 87 […] of the laying of submarine cables
and pipelines, and other internationally lawful uses of the sea related to
these freedoms, such as those associated with the operation of […] sub-
marine cables and pipelines, and compatible with the other provisions of
this Convention.
The freedom to lay submarine cables is the freedom from the jurisdic-
tion of other States.32 The consent of the coastal State is not required for
the laying of a cable, or for conducting a cable survey, unless “the rele-
vant provisions of this Convention” provide for this. In this context the
relevant provision is Article 79 LOSC relating to submarine cables on
the continental shelf because laying a cable in the exclusive economic
zone means laying it on the continental shelf which forms the sea-bed
of the zone.
As together with the freedom of laying submarine cables States also
enjoy other internationally lawful uses of the sea relating to this freedom
(Article 58(1) LOSC), the question arises whether the respective sur-
veys are internationally lawful and whether they constitute such other

32
The freedom, like all other rights of the Law of the Sea Convention relating to
cables and pipelines, is a freedom of States. However, according to some authors the
term “all States” also includes private individuals, see S. N. Nandan/S. Rosenne/N. R.
Grandy (eds.), United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea 1982, A Commentary,
Vol. III, Article 112, at 264, para. 112.8(b) (1995); but see also Lagoni (note 2), at 12–13.
 cable and pipeline surveys at sea943

uses. These surveys, no doubt, are lawful if they do not violate the rights
of other States. But in order to be another “use of the sea” in the sense
of Article 58(1) UNCLOS, a cable or pipeline survey has to be “related”
to the freedom in question. Here the Convention stipulates the rela-
tionship between the other uses (viz. the surveys) and the laying as a
condition for their legality. Moreover Article 58(1) LOSC identifies the
“lawful uses of the sea” as those which, for example, are “associated
with the operation” of submarine cables and pipelines. A survey ascer-
taining the route of a cable or pipeline in position on the sea-bed is
clearly “associated with [their] operation” because these devices could
not be used properly without being maintained or repaired. Hence,
conducting the cable survey for this purpose is definitely another law-
ful use of the sea “related to” the freedom of laying submarine cables in
the zone.
Just as in Article 58(1) LOSC, the abovementioned link between sur-
veys and the laying of cables or pipelines is also recognized in national
laws. Some States recognize the freedom to lay submarine cables in
their exclusive economic zone in connection with “other related activi-
ties”33 or “other internationally lawful uses of the sea related to those
freedoms”34. Others specifically require that the other uses of the sea
shall be “related to communication”35 or “associated with communica-
tion”36, which in this context also implies the operation of cables and
pipelines. Several laws are even more explicit when they mention,
together with the freedom to lay, other internationally lawful uses of
the sea “directly related with the operation of submarine cables”37 or
“associated with cables”38 or “with the operation of cables”.39 Thus, all
these references to activities or uses of the sea also include the neces-
sary surveys.

33
 Antigua and Barbuda, Act 1982, section 12, see supra note 14 (1986 document),
at 19; Dominica, Act 1981, section 10(2), id., at 80.
34
Fiji, Act 1977, section 10(6), id., at 85; Solomon Islands, Act 1978, section 10(6),
id., at 280; Russian Federation (then: Union of Soviet Socialist Republics), Decree 1984
on Economic Zone, Article 4, id., at 314.
35
Cuba, Legislative Decree 1977, Article 3, id., at 73; Grenada, Act 1978, section 7,
id., at 116; Sao Tome and Principe, Decree-Law 1978, Article 5, id., at 258; Guatemala,
Legislative Decree 1976, Article 4, id., at 124; Philippines, Presidential Decree 1978,
section 4, id., at 245.
36
 Venezuela, Act 1978, Article 4, id., at 333.
37
Honduras, Decree 1980, Article 2, id., at 139.
38
Morocco, Act 1980, Article 6(1), id., at 195.
39
Mexico, Federal Act 1986, Article 48, id., at 193.
944 rainer lagoni

III. Surveys on the Continental Shelf (Article 79(1) LOSC)

If the coastal State has not established an exclusive economic zone or
where the continental margin extends beyond the outer limit of that
zone, cables and pipelines are laid directly on the continental shelf. The
right (i.e. the legal title in international law) to lay cables and pipelines
on a foreign continental shelf is set out in Article 79(1) LOSC.40 The
provision reads:
1.All States are entitled to lay submarine cables and pipelines on the con-
tinental shelf, in accordance with the provisions of this article.
The laying of a foreign cable or pipeline on the continental shelf is in
general not subject to the consent of the coastal State, except where the
Convention provides otherwise. However, Article 79(1) LOSC does
not mention “other uses of the sea” associated with the operation of the
cable or pipeline. But this does not mean that this provision is of no
relevance for cable surveys. As the sea-bed of the exclusive economic
zone is the continental shelf, there are no differences with respect to
cable surveys within the two maritime areas. The relevant surveys on
the continental shelf are likewise functionally related to the laying of
submarine cables in the exclusive economic zone. Therefore, in both
situations the abovementioned right implies also the relevant right to
conduct surveys for this purpose. Wherever there is a legal right to lay
cables, there is also a right to prepare for their laying through cable
surveys.

F. Limits to the Freedom and Right to Conduct Surveys

I. The Need for and Regulation of Limits (Article 79(1) LOSC)

It is a commonplace that no right exists without limits. But there may
be different reasons for its limits, which accordingly may have a differ-
ent scope. The right to lay submarine cables and pipelines in an
exclusive economic zone or on a continental shelf is subject to limita-
tions because the coastal State enjoys sovereign rights and exclusive
jurisdiction in these maritime zones. Here again the close functional
relationship between the laying of cables or pipelines and the necessary

40
Whether this right is an aspect of the freedom of the high seas or a part of the
regime of the continental shelf is an open question, see D. P. O’Connell/I. A. Shearer
(ed.), The International Law of the Sea, Vol. I, at 508 (1982) and O’Connell/Shearer
(note 9), at 822; the answer, however, is of no relevance for cable surveys.
 cable and pipeline surveys at sea945

surveys comes into play: the restrictions on and conditions for the lay-
ing or maintenance of submarine cables or pipelines also apply, mutatis
mutandis, to surveys. If, however, it is not determined by law which of
the conflicting rights should prevail, the interests in laying the cable or
pipeline have to be balanced against the interests of the coastal State in
protecting its rights.
For the exclusive economic zone the necessary restrictions are pro-
vided by a reference by Article 58(1) LOSC to Article 87(1) lit. (c)
LOSC, pursuant to which the freedom to lay cables and pipelines is
“subject to Part VI” of the Convention. This Part includes Article 79
LOSC, which contains restrictions and conditions for such laying, and
consequently for the necessary surveys as well. If one considers the
necessary surveys as “other internationally lawful uses of the sea …
such as those associated with the operation of […] submarine cables
and pipelines” (Article 58(1) LOSC), they have to be “compatible with
the other provisions of this Convention” including Article 79 LOSC.
This provision sets forth the right to lay submarine cables and pipelines
in accordance with the restrictions contained in its paragraphs 2 to 5.
These paragraphs either require the consent of the coastal State to their
laying or grant a power to impede the laying or maintenance or to
impose conditions on it. States have, however, also developed other
restrictions in their national rules or regulations. On the other hand, if
a coastal State has not adopted rules or regulations applying to the lay-
ing or maintenance of submarine cables, cable surveys in its exclusive
economic zone or on its continental shelf are free, unless the cable is
under its jurisdiction (see infra F.V).

II. Rights of the Coastal State to Interfere with the Surveys

(Article 79(2) LOSC)
In general the coastal State may not impede the laying or maintenance
of a submarine cable over which it does not have jurisdiction; neither
may it impede the respective cable surveys. Article 79(2) LOSC reads:
2.Subject to its right to take reasonable measures for the exploration of
the continental shelf, the exploitation of its natural resources and the pre-
vention, reduction and control of pollution from pipelines, the coastal
State may not impede the laying or maintenance of such cables or
pipelines.
But the provision includes silent exceptions to the general rule: If the
laying of a cable or pipeline or activities for its maintenance infringes
upon the coastal State’s sovereign rights or if it results in an interference
946 rainer lagoni

with the abovementioned measures, the coastal State may indeed inter-
fere with such activities. One may well assume that this applies mutatis
mutandis if a cable or pipeline survey affects the sovereign rights of the
coastal State.
However, Article 79(2) LOSC does not specify the measures which
the coastal State may take in order to protect its sovereign rights. The
laying or maintenance of a cable or pipeline is not subject to the coastal
State’s consent, which may be denied in that State’s discretion. Instead,
the right to impede rather implies negotiations or consultations with a
view to reaching an agreed solution. Thus the coastal State may not
completely prevent the laying of a foreign cable or pipeline in its exclu-
sive economic zone or on its continental shelf because this would deny
the right to lay such devices and to conduct the necessary surveys.
However, drawing a line between the conflicting interests in the abstract
is obviously not possible because the solution depends on the circum-
stances of the given situation.
As its measures regarding exploration and exploitation are to be
“reasonable”, it may be argued that the coastal State’s protective meas-
ures have to be reasonable as well.41 Accordingly they must relate
directly to the envisaged purpose without being excessive. Hence the
coastal State may make a survey subject to its consent or authorization
if, for example, a cable is to be laid through a restricted area.42 Such
authorization may be granted subject to conditions or it may even be
denied for a particular area. After all, it has rightly been pointed out in
the literature “that failure to seek the agreement of the coastal state may
lead to problems later if (in good faith or otherwise) the coastal state
interferes with the cable on the alleged ground that it is taking such
‘reasonable measures’”.43
At any rate, the coastal State can take measures only when it is
informed about the course to be taken for the laying of the cable
and about the activities which are envisaged for the cable survey (on
pipelines see infra F.III). Therefore, if there is a possibility that the
laying or survey activities could in any way affect the coastal State’s
sovereign rights or related measures, the enterprise which is going to

41
See Wiese (note 8), at 252–253.
42
The ICPC Recommendation No. 9 (see supra note 1), section 2.2.6, lists restricted
areas and other factors which should be examined in the desktop study before the lay-
ing of a cable.
43
 Brown (note 8), at 137.
 cable and pipeline surveys at sea947

lay the cable or to conduct the cable survey is deemed to inform the
competent administration of the coastal State about its plans in due
time.
As Article 79(2) LOSC also implies a right to interfere with in
order to prevent, reduce or control pollution from pipelines, the ques-
tion arises whether the coastal State has a similar right with regard to
submarine cables. Unlike pipelines, communication cables usually
do not cause pollution, whereas monopolar high voltage direct current
power cables are prone to cause pollution by introducing electric
energy into the marine environment.44 Therefore one may think of the
application of this provision to such cables by analogy. In this situation,
the right of the coastal State to impede the laying of the cable, for
example, could be to impose a condition that a bipolar power cable
be laid instead, in order to avoid the effects of a monopolar power cable
on the marine environment. However, this is more likely to be an
issue for the preceding desktop studies than for the actual cable
survey.

III. Surveys and the Delineation of the Course (Article 79(3) LOSC)
Pursuant to Article 79(3) LOSC “[t]he delineation of the course for the
laying of such pipelines on the continental shelf is subject to the con-
sent of the coastal State”. The obvious reason for this provision is the
possible damage caused by pipelines to the marine environment of the
coastal State in the event of a casualty or leakage. Besides that, the bur-
ial of a pipeline usually implies greater effects on the sea-bed than that
of a cable.
The abovementioned provision gives rise to several questions. The
first is whether it applies–independently of its plain meaning–also
to cables. While there are opposing views on this in legal publications,45
several coastal States in their laws on the continental shelf lay down the
requirement in almost identical wording that the consent of
the Government shall be necessary for the delineation of the course
for the laying of such cables as well.46 The laying of a cable without the

44
See Article 1(1) no. 4 LOSC. As to the environmental problems see Lagoni (note
2), at 59–63.
45
See Wiese (note 8), at 243–244.
46
Guyana, Act 1977, section 14, see supra note 13, at 117; India, Act 1976, section
6(4), id., at 129; Pakistan, Act 1976, section 5(6), id., at 189; Saint Lucia, Act 1984,
948 rainer lagoni

required consent to the delineation having been obtained,

no doubt, would be a violation of the relevant laws of the coastal
State.
Other questions relate to the meaning of the term “delineation” and
to the scope and effect of the required consent. The delineation of the
course is a description or drawing in detail of where the pipeline or
cable is to be laid. It is a separate measure which necessarily precedes
the laying. In order to give the required consent, the coastal State has to
be informed about the envisaged course for the laying. It may withhold
its consent to the delineation if, for example, the laying may affect its
sovereign rights or the marine environment or restricted areas, such as
controlled shipping lanes. Moreover, the consent may be made subject
to conditions. But this right does not mean that the coastal State may
dictate the course for the laying.47 The effect of the consent on the
delineation is that the subsequent laying in accordance with it is gener-
ally no longer subject to a separate consent. On the other hand, the
laying of a pipeline without consent to the delineation of its course
would be a violation of the coastal State’s right under Article 79(3)
LOSC.
If the delineation of the course actually presupposes a prior
survey for its preparation, the question may arise whether this survey
is already subject to the consent of the coastal State. The Convention is
again silent on this. In the light of the right and freedom to lay
submarine cables and pipelines, such consent is deemed to be redun-
dant because the subsequent consent to the delineation sufficiently
protects the interests of the coastal State. However, the abstract
delineation of the course and the activities conducted in the mar
itime area for a survey are different activities. Therefore some
coastal States require notification48 concerning the survey or make it
subject to an application,49 but they do not require their consent to be
given.

section 13(2)(a), id., at 226; The Seychelles, Act 1977, section 7(4), id., at 236, require
that the “authority of the President has to be obtained” for the delineation of the course
of cables as well; Malaysia, Act 1984, section 22, see supra note 14 (1993 document), at
186; Mauritius, Act 1977, section 7(4), see supra note 14 (1986 document), at 183; Saint
Kitts and Nevis, Act 1984, section 13(2)(a), see supra note 14 (1993 document), at 303.
47
See R. R. Churchill/V. Lowe, The Law of the Sea, at 156 (4th ed. 1999); B.
Kwiatkowska, The 200 mile exclusive economic zone in the new law of the sea, at 317–
318 (1989), argues by analogy that Article 79(2) LOSC implies the right of the coastal
State to delineate the course of both cables and pipelines.
48
People’s Republic of China, Provisions 1989, Article 4(2), see supra note 10.
49
 Republic of China, Regulations 2000, Article 4, see supra note 11.
 cable and pipeline surveys at sea949

IV. Surveys Relating to Landing Cables and Pipelines (Article 79(4)

1st alt. LOSC)
“Landing” cables and pipelines enter the territory or territorial sea of a
State. There is no right of transit for cables or pipelines through the ter-
ritorial sea. The laying of a cable or pipeline in an area under its sover-
eignty, and accordingly the necessary surveys, are generally subject to
the authorization of the coastal State. Article 79(4) 1st alternative LOSC
stipulates:
4.Nothing in this Part affects the right of the coastal State to establish
conditions for cables or pipelines entering its territory or territorial sea,
[…].
The provision does not grant jurisdiction to the coastal State over those
parts of the cable which are outside its territory. But as the design and
technical details are necessarily the same for the whole cable
or pipeline, the coastal State in fact has considerable influence on land-
ing cables or pipelines. The conditions laid down by the coastal State for
the landing cable or pipeline could relate to the place where the cable
may enter the territorial sea or territory, or they may define technical
requirements.50 As these may have considerable effects on the planning
of a landing cable or pipeline, they should already be taken into account
in the planning process. As already mentioned, an example of a require-
ment for a landing power cable is laying a bipolar cable in order to
minimize the effects of the electric field on the environment.51

V. Jurisdiction of Coastal States over Certain Cables and Pipelines

(Article 79(4) 2nd alt. LOSC)
The right to lay submarine cables does not relate to all cables and pipe-
lines on the continental shelf. Pursuant to Article 79(4) LOSC, certain
cables and pipelines are under the jurisdiction of the coastal State.52
The second alternative of this provision reads:

50
Pursuant to Article 3 of the International Convention of 1884 for the Protection
of Submarine Telegraph Cables (RGBl. 1888, 151, 167), which is still in force for 37
States, the States Parties shall make conditions regarding the place and the dimensions
of the cable. Article 27 of the 1958 Geneva Convention on the High Seas and again
Article 113 LOSC extended the protection to all kinds of submarine cables.
51
See supra note 44.
52
Some States restated their jurisdiction over such cables in their laws, see Saint
Kitts and Nevis, Act 1984, section 13(2)(c), see supra note 14 (1993 document), at 303;
Trinidad and Tobago, Act 1986, section 20(c), id., at 369; Saint Lucia, Act 1984, section
13(2)(c), see supra note 13, at 226.
950 rainer lagoni

4.Nothing in this Part affects the right of the coastal State […] or its juris-
diction over cables and pipelines constructed or used in connection with
the exploration of its continental shelf or exploitation of its resources or
the operations of artificial islands, installations and structures under its
jurisdiction.
These are, for example, cables and pipelines linking platforms for the
exploration of the continental shelf or the exploitation of its natural
resources or installations producing energy from wind between
each other or with the coast. As they are used for sea-bed activities
under national jurisdiction, they are subject to the jurisdiction of the
coastal State. Cable surveys for the laying of such cables on the conti-
nental shelf are, mutatis mutandis, also under the jurisdiction of the
coastal State. Therefore they require its authorization as well. This may
already be included in a licence, concession or grant to explore the con-
tinental shelf or to exploit its natural resources or in a permit to con-
struct and operate artificial islands, installations or structures.
Submarine cables laid or used for purposes of marine scientific
research may be considered scientific research equipment (Article 258
LOSC).53 Their deployment and use on the continental shelf or in an
exclusive economic zone are, pursuant to Article 246 LOSC, subject to
the consent of the coastal State. Accordingly such consent is also
required for surveys relating to such scientific cables.
If the coastal State does not explore the continental shelf or exploit
its natural resources, no one may undertake these activities without its
express consent (Article 77(2) LOSC). If the coastal State has not
extended its laws to cover these activities, the laying of submarine
cables and pipelines mentioned in Article 79(4) LOSC and the conduct
of the respective surveys without its authorization would be a violation
of the Convention. The lack of legislation or executive activity of the
coastal State may generally not be considered to be a silent
authorization.

VI. Maintenance and Repair of Cables and Pipelines (Article 79(5)

2nd sentence LOSC)
Submarine cables and pipelines are occasionally driven from
their original position on the sea-bed by currents or other natural

53
 As an example, Coffen-Smout/Herbert (note 1), at 445, mention the installation
of the Hawaii-2 Observatory on a retired AT&T telephone cable as a permanent deep
ocean scientific research facility in 1998.
 cable and pipeline surveys at sea951

phenomena; others are dragged away by bottom-fishing gear or

anchors. In such situation a survey may be necessary for the mainte-
nance or repair of the device. The freedom and right to lay submarine
cables and pipelines on the continental shelf or in the exclusive eco-
nomic zone also implies the right to maintain and repair them. This
right is presupposed in Article 79(5) 2nd sentence LOSC, which reads:
“In particular, possibilities of repairing existing cables or pipelines shall
not be prejudiced.” This obligation often makes a precise location of the
cables or pipelines already in position necessary.
The coastal State may impede maintenance and repair activities and
the related survey pursuant to Article 79(2) LOSC only if they affect its
sovereign rights (see supra F.II). The mere fact that the laying of the
cable or pipeline has been subject to the prior authorization of the
coastal State does not mean that this requirement also applies to main-
tenance and repair54 or to the necessary surveys. Nonetheless, some
States which regulate the laying also make maintenance or repair sub-
ject to authorization.55

VII. The Duty to Have Due Regard to Cables and Pipelines Already in
Position (Article 79(5) 1st sentence LOSC)
With the growing number in particular of telecommunication cables
on the continental shelf or in the exclusive economic zone, the possibil-
ity that a cable may have to be laid close to or even across cables or
pipelines already in position is actually increasing in some regions. The
Law of the Sea Convention also contains rules for the relationship
between a person laying a submarine cable or pipeline and the owners
of cables or pipelines which are already in place. The relevant sentence
of Article 79(5) LOSC reads:
5.When laying submarine cables or pipelines, States shall have due regard
to cables or pipelines already in position.
But this provision does not grant any particular right or jurisdiction to
the coastal State. A violation of the obligation to have “due regard” does
not justify impeding the laying of such cable or pipeline or

54
See Roelandt (note 28), at 134, with respect to pipelines.
55
 Democratic Yemen (see supra note 25) banned “any maintenance work” by for-
eigners; Cambodia (see supra note 24) requires an authorization for “all activities […]
for whatever end”. The USSR (see supra note 15) prohibited “surveying […] or any
other activity on the continental shelf ”. For other examples see supra at section C.
952 rainer lagoni

making a survey regarding the cable or pipeline already in position

subject to its authorization. Instead, the owner of a cable or pipeline
who suffers damage or injury from the laying of another cable or pipe-
line or from a relevant survey may claim compensation before a
competent court. Every State shall adopt laws and regulations neces-
sary to provide that persons laying cables or pipelines who cause dam-
age to another cable or pipeline in the exclusive economic zone or
beneath the high seas shall bear the cost of the repairs (Article 114
LOSC).56

G. Surveys on the Sea-Bed beyond the Limits of National

Jurisdiction (Article 112 LOSC)

Pursuant to Article 112(1) LOSC “[a]ll States are entitled to lay subma-
rine cables and pipelines on the bed of the high seas beyond the conti-
nental shelf ”, and hence they may conduct the necessary surveys.
Because States do not have sovereign or other rights and jurisdiction in
this maritime area, they may neither impede the laying or maintenance
and repair of foreign cables and pipelines or related surveys on the sea-
bed of the high seas. According to Article 112(2) LOSC only “Article
79, paragraph 5, applies to such cables and pipelines”. The application
of paragraphs 2 to 4 of this provision, which contain the abovemen-
tioned restrictions, is not envisaged. Neither is the corresponding free-
dom to lay submarine cables and pipelines on the high seas beyond the
continental shelf “subject to Part VI” as is stipulated in Article 87(1) lit.
(c) LOSC. Hence, only the obligation to have due regard to cables and
pipelines already in position applies here. As already mentioned, this
does not give a State or the owner of a cable or pipeline in position any
right to impede the laying, maintenance or repair of the cable or to
interfere with the respective cable survey (see supra F.VI).
Another issue in connection with this topic, however, is the distinc-
tion between the laying of cables and pipelines on the sea-bed and
ocean floor beyond the limits of national jurisdiction and “activities in
the Area”. The Area “means the sea-bed and ocean floor and subsoil
thereof, beyond the limits of national jurisdiction” (Article 1(1) no. (1)
LOSC). Its legal status as common heritage of mankind (Article 136
LOSC) is defined in Article 137(1) LOSC. This status does not preclude

 Article 58(2) LOSC refers to this provision.

56
 cable and pipeline surveys at sea953

the right to lay cables and pipelines, nor to conduct related surveys in
the Area.
Whether the International Sea-Bed Authority57 has any jurisdiction
with regard to the laying of cables and pipelines–others than those
used in connection with activities in the area–is however yet another
question. The Authority, of which all States Parties to the Law of the Sea
Convention are ipso facto members,58 is the organization through
which States Parties are to organize and control activities in the Area,
“particularly with a view to administering the resources of the Area”
(Article 157(1) LOSC). But this mandate does not imply any special
power of the Authority with regard to the laying of cables and pipelines
or the conducting of cable or pipeline surveys by States in the Area.59
The Convention stipulates only very generally that “other activities in
the marine environment shall be conducted with reasonable regard for
activities in the Area” (Article 147(3) LOSC). This again does not mean
that the laying or maintenance of a cable or pipeline in the Area or
conducting a survey for this purpose would require the consent of the
Authority or give it a right to interfere with these activities. Accordingly,
in the event of a conflict of interests, the appropriate means of resolving
it are negotiations and consultations.

H. Control by the Coastal State

A ship which is conducting a cable or pipeline survey in the exclusive

economic zone or on the continental shelf of another State shall have
due regard to the rights of the coastal State and comply with the laws
and regulations adopted by that State in accordance with the provisions
of the Law of the Sea Convention and other rules of international law
(Article 58(3) LOSC). However, the coastal State may stop and control
the foreign ship beyond its territorial sea only if the survey clearly
relates to cables or pipelines which are laid or are to be laid within the
coastal State’s jurisdiction.60 In all other situations the coastal State may

57
The Autority has been established in Jamaica pursuant to Article 156(1) LOSC.
58
 Article 156(2) LOSC.
59
Coffen-Smout/Herbert (note 1), at 444, suggested “that the Authority be man-
dated by the UN General Assembly to assume a regulatory function with regard to the
routing of cables and their maintenance in the Area”, but no such regulation has been
promulgated here as yet.
60
See Article 79(4) 2nd alternative LOSC and supra at chapter F.V.
954 rainer lagoni

not stop and control a ship under a foreign flag merely because
it is conducting such a survey in its exclusive economic zone or on its
continental shelf. The Convention allows control and enforcement
measures (as, e.g., stopping, physical inspection and arresting) outside
the territorial sea only in particular situations: when the ship violates
its fisheries laws (Article 73(1) LOSC); when there is reasonable
ground for suspecting that certain rules of international law are being
violated (Article 110 LOSC); or when it has caused or threatened sig-
nificant pollution of the marine environment (Article 220(5) LOSC).
Hot pursuit may be undertaken if cable and pipeline surveys have vio-
lated the laws and regulations of the coastal State (Article 111 LOSC).
But when there are clear grounds for believing that a ship conduct-
ing cable or pipeline surveys in the exclusive economic zone or on the
continental shelf of a foreign State has violated its laws and regulations,
the State may require it to give information regarding its identity (the
IMO Number) and other relevant information with a view to establish-
ing whether such violation has occurred. At sea the information may
be required only by a warship, military aircraft, or other ships or air-
craft clearly marked and identifiable as being on government service
and authorized to that effect. On-board inspection beyond the territo-
rial sea by reason of a cable or pipeline survey may be conducted only
with the prior consent of the ship’s master. But when it is later voluntar-
ily in a port or at an off-shore terminal belonging to the coastal State,
control and enforcement measures on board the ship may be taken by
the local authorities.

I. Conclusion and Recommendations

Cable and pipeline surveys are not mentioned in the Law of the Sea
Convention. But the Convention’s silence does not mean that the law is
generally silent on such activities. On the contrary, this article takes the
view that the international law concerning surveys is closely linked to
the right to lay and maintain submarine cables and pipelines. Hence all
States, whether coastal or land-locked, enjoy the right to conduct nec-
essary surveys for the purpose of laying, maintenance and repair of
submarine cables and pipelines on the continental shelf or in the exclu-
sive economic zone. This right follows from their right to lay cables and
pipelines as provided for in Article 79(1) LOSC.
As a consequence, the limits of this right follow likewise from those
set out in the abovementioned provision: If the coastal State has
 cable and pipeline surveys at sea955

jurisdiction over a submarine cable or pipeline (Article 79(4) LOSC),

the relevant surveys are under its jurisdiction as well, and they are sub-
ject to its prior consent or authorization. The coastal State may take
reasonable measures to impede a survey if it may interfere with its right
to explore the continental shelf or to exploit its natural resources
(Article 79(2) LOSC). The same applies if a power cable affects the pre-
vention, reduction and control of pollution of the marine environment.
Surveys for landing cables or pipelines should also take into account
conditions which are established by the coastal State in accordance
with Article 79(4) LOSC. The delineation of the course for the laying of
a submarine pipeline on the continental shelf is subject to the consent
of the coastal State (Article 79(2) LOSC), and so is the respective sur-
vey. On the other hand, the duty to have due regard to cables and pipe-
lines already in position (Article 79(5) LOSC) does not make the survey
subject to the authorization of the coastal State or to the consent of the
relevant owner.
Notwithstanding the abovementioned legal situation, the difficulty
of distinguishing between a survey and marine scientific research, and
considering the possibility that a survey might affect sovereign rights of
the coastal State, a warship or another authorized government vessel of
the coastal State may request information from the ship conducting the
survey on the continental shelf. However, boarding a foreign ship in
this situation is permissible only with the prior consent of its master or
owner.
The relevant State practice concerning surveys is far from being uni-
form, and in part it is even not in conformity with international law.
Several coastal States make cable and pipeline surveys on their conti-
nental shelves generally subject to an authorization; others make the
delineation of the course for the laying of a submarine cable on the con-
tinental shelf also subject to their consent and some merely require
notification or an application in this situation. Therefore preceding
desktop studies for surveys should take account of all information
available on the rules and regulations of the relevant coastal State which
may apply to the laying of submarine cables or pipelines. Besides
this, for pragmatic reasons the competent authorities of the coastal
State should be informed in due time about the intention to conduct
the survey on the continental shelf. And finally, a ship conducting a
cable or pipeline survey should not refuse, upon request from compe-
tent authorities of the coastal State, to give all necessary information
concerning its activities in the foreign exclusive economic zone or on
the continental shelf.
 The Contribution of Trinidad and
Tobago to the Development of the Regime
of the Continental Shelf

Anthony A. Lucky

It is both a privilege and honor to have this article included in the Liber
Amicorum for a distinguished scholar, jurist, professor of law and judge
of the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea. The paper exam-
ines the development of the regime of the continental shelf from an
historical perspective. It considers the beginning of the legal aspects of
the regime emanating from the Gulf of Paria Treaty 1942. The paper
then assesses the development and contribution to the regime by
Trinidad and Tobago, a country which recognizes that the commercial
production of oil and gas is inevitably subject to laws and regulations,
nationally and internationally, because of the value and effect this
resource has on the economy of any oil producing country; moreso,
where a very large percentage of oil and gas is extracted from its conti-
nental shelf.

A. Introduction

Rapid global development of the regime of the continental shelf may

not have been easily envisaged in the 1930s when the exploration for
oil and gas had extended to the sub-marine areas of some coastal states.
The literature and articles on legal aspects of the regime are volumi-
nous as national and international jurists continue to examine and
consider new developments in science and technology as they relate to
global submarine exploitation.
In examining the contribution of Trinidad and Tobago in the devel-
opment of the regime of the continental shelf, an historical perspec-
tive of the twin island Republic has to be viewed. Trinidad is the
southern-most island in the Caribbean archipelago. The Caribbean Sea
lies to the north of Trinidad and Tobago, the Atlantic Ocean to the
east, the Columbus channel and the Venezuelan mainland to the
south and the Gulf of Paria on the western coast of Trinidad.
Occupying an area of approximately 1,981 sq. miles (5,131 sq. km.)
958 anthony a. lucky

and a population of 1,229,953 in 2009, Trinidad and Tobago is a large

producer of oil and natural gas.
Prior to 1962, Trinidad and Tobago was a colony of Great Britain,
achieving its independence in August 1962 and republican status in
September 1976. Although exploration and exploitation take place
in the Caribbean Sea north of Trinidad; the major oil finds are located
on the island’s south-eastern coast in the Atlantic Ocean in its conti-
nental shelf.
The period from 1942 onwards marked the development of the law
of the sea, which to say the least, could be described as both rapid and
continually progressive. I have chosen 1942 because the Treaty between
Great Britain and Northern Island and Venezuela Relating to the
Submarine Areas of the Gulf of Paria (Gulf of Paria Treaty)1 was con-
cluded during that year in which the United Kingdom and Venezuela
divided between themselves the submarine areas of the Gulf of Paria. It
is noteworthy that the geological and scientific exploration of the Gulf
of Paria began in 1935 because in that year reports revealed that there
was a vast oilfield in the submarine areas of the Gulf of Paria.2 The tech-
nocrats recommended that a treaty should be concluded with Venezuela
to ensure that the submarine area where the potential field was found
should be within the boundary of Trinidad. It can be concluded that
specific instructions from the geologists, scientific experts and negotia-
tors were given to the official draftsmen of the Treaty to consider the
anticipated results of the scientific findings as they prepared the docu-
ment. After close examination of Arts. 6, 7 and 8 of the Gulf of Paria
Treaty3 I have no doubt that the beginnings of the law of the sea as it
relates to the continental shelf is inextricably linked to the commercial
production of oil and gas, since no such law had come into existence
prior to this treaty.4
The Gulf of Paria Treaty was the first agreement of its kind at that
time and was the only bilateral treaty with respect to the sea which
sought to regularize the legal position regarding fishing and other
related rights between Trinidad and Tobago and Venezuela inter se.
It was concluded prior to the Truman Proclamation of 1945 in which

1
 LNTS Vol. 205, No. 4829.
2
 H. H. Suter, The General and Economic Geology of Trinidad, at 1–4 (2nd ed.
1960).
3
 For the wording of these articles see infra section D.
4
 Discussions with Joyce C. Lynch, Senior Legal Advisor, Energy, Policy and
Planning Ministry of the Attorney General, Trinidad and Tobago.
 the contribution of trinidad and tobago959

the continental shelf was defined. It will be argued in this paper that the
Gulf of Paria Treaty created an impetus in the development of the
regime of the continental shelf. In fact, it was the forerunner of the
doctrine of the continental shelf and contained some features that have
become part of the said regime.5
The Treaty was intended to govern the “submarine areas” in the Gulf
of Paria between Trinidad and Venezuela because at that time there
was no clear definition of the continental shelf.6 Since then the Treaty
has been superseded by the Maritime Boundaries Agreement which
was concluded by the two states in 1990.7
The Treaty and the Annexation Orders that followed were unique in
that the divided areas were annexed to and formed part of each others’
territory. In fact at that time Trinidad and Tobago was a colony of the
United Kingdom and both the United Kingdom and Venezuela adhered
to the then traditional territorial sea limit of three miles. It follows that
a considerable part of the waters of the Gulf of Paria were high seas at
that time.

B. Historical Background to the Gulf of Paria Treaty

It is necessary to revert to early development in order to fully appreci-

ate the current state of the law of the sea in this age of modernity.
What was taking place in the early 1930s is, in a small way, similar to
what is taking place today in the exploration and exploitation of the
continental shelf. As technology advances the law has to keep abreast
with this rapid advancement. It must be noted however that the devel-
opment of the law of the sea in its application to the continental shelf
has always been clear and consistent as it strives to keep up with the
rapid advancement in science and technology.
In the early 1930s geological surveys by a British contingent
showed that there were rich oil-bearing deposits in the sea bed and
sub-soil of the Gulf of Paria, the south-west coast of Trinidad between
Trinidad and Venezuela. Studies then revealed that these deposits were

5
 P. Chandrasekhara Rao, The New Law of Maritime Zones, at 93–94 (1983).
6
T. Daintith/G. D. M. Willoughby (eds.), A Manual of United Kingdom Oil and Gas
Law (1977).
7
 Maritime Boundaries Agreement, Treaty between Trinidad and Tobago and
Venezuela on the delimitation of Marine and Submarine Areas, 18 April 1990, UNTS
Vol. 1654 No. 28463 (entry into force 1991).
960 anthony a. lucky

commercially viable.8 At that time technology was not what it is at pre-

sent. However, even so, the geologists and marine engineers envisaged
that in the years to come exploration and exploitation would advance
into the deeper parts of the ocean (parts of which are now defined as
the continental shelf).
Negotiations between the United Kingdom and Venezuela began
on 29 August 1936. It was agreed that the two countries would con-
clude an agreement after which each government would take parallel
action to divide up as national territory between them the sea bed of
the Gulf of Paria.9
Exploitation of oil began in 1955 with drilling from the south-west-
ern shore in Point Fortin and La Brea Trinidad.10 The first oil piped
from Soldado came ashore in 1957. But the first marine oil is credited
to Antilles Petroleum Company, which found oil offshore in 1952.11

C. Exploration and Exploitation in the Submarine Areas

(the Continental Shelf) of Trinidad and Tobago

Drilling for oil began in Trinidad and Tobago around 1857 in the vicin-
ity of the Pitch Lake on land and exploitation had its beginnings in
1866 when Walter Darwent drilled his first successful oil well (Aripo).
Exploitation, that is commercial oil production, began on land in the
vicinity of the Pitch Lake (La Brea) in 1908 and forty-six years later
marine drilling for oil began in the Soldado Field by Trinidad Northern
Areas Ltd (Trinmar). In 1955 production from Soldado oilfield at
Trinmar was initiated.
T.N.A. is a joint venture between Trinidad Leaseholds Limited,
Texaco (now Petrotrin) and United British Oilfields Trinidad Limited
(later Shell then Trintoc now Petrotrin) into which D’Arcy Exploration
Company (later T.P.D., B.P. now Trinidad Tesoro) bought one third

8
 Report of Geologist Hans Kluger, Report File for 1935, Ministry of Energy, Port of
Spain, Trinidad.
9
Summary of Negotiations with the Venezuelan Government for partition of the
submarine areas of the Gulf of Paria, Public Records Office London (FO 371/22850).
At that time partition of the sea-bed was without precedent.
10
1955–Production from Soldado oilfield at Trinmar initiated (see official records
of the Ministry of Petroleum and Mines, now the Ministry of Energy. Further the
records at H.M.S.O. were not available at the time of writing the books mentioned, i.e.
the early 1960s.). See Annex I.
11
 G. E. Higgins, A History of Trinidad Oil, at 124 (1996).
 the contribution of trinidad and tobago961

interest in 1939 and was granted a submarine license covering 231,000

acres in the Gulf of Paria in July 1952. Two years later T.N.A. estab-
lished its first high-seas drilling platform and commenced drilling of
the well which was to discover the Soldado Main Field. The full scale of
this development of this field did not however get underway until late
1957; because, during World War II exploration had come to an almost
complete halt. In the years that followed major oil reserves were dis-
covered in the Gulf of Paria. At the end of the war, in 1946, a crew
began geophysical surveys and assisted in the exploration of new
reserves in the Gulf of Paria. In 1947 a gravity crew began to carry out
surveys over land holdings of Trinidad Northern Areas (TNA) and
more importantly, over the unexplored marine areas in the Gulf of
Paria.12
Prior to the war, applications for leases had been submitted to the
Government of Trinidad and Tobago but these leases could not have
been formally granted until the conclusion of the Gulf of Paria Treaty
in 1942 and appropriate legislation, related to marine operations, had
been enacted by the Trinidad and Tobago Government.13
Oil companies became concerned over the remaining production
life of the island’s reserves; that resulted in more exploration in the Gulf
of Paria and surrounding marine areas. But it was not until 1954 that
the first truly offshore marine exploration well was spudded. This well
was TNA’s High Seas No.1. It was later renamed Soldado 1.
Soldado 1 was a successful discovery that led to the giant Soldado
oilfield, which was later to produce more than one third of Trinidad
and Tobago’s oil production during its peak development in the 1960s.14
Early studies of the oil industry were commissioned. The first report
was made by W. J. Levy, an American Economist.15 The report made the
following recommendations:
(a) A consolidation, modernization and expansion of the present
ordinances and regulations that related to the drilling, production
and disposition of oil and gas, and,

12
TNA was a consortium of three companies: Trinidad Leaseholds, United British
Oilfields and British Petroleum.
13
 Higgins (note 9), at 124.
14
The Trinidad Oil Economy or Levy Report, Library Records, Ministry of Energy,
Port of Spain, Trinidad and Tobago.
15
 D. R. Craig, the Craig Report, Library Records, Ministry of Energy, Port of Spain,
Trinidad and Tobago.
962 anthony a. lucky

(b) The establishment of a separate regulatory authority which would

be directly responsible to the administrative council of Govern-
ment, and charged exclusively with the administration of revised
legislation.
It is interesting to note that as a result Trinidad and Tobago was ensur-
ing that it had an update of the practices in the various operations of
the petroleum industry in other countries. The legislation that followed
was in conformity with International Treaties and Law at that time.16

D. The Continental Shelf

I have read, analyzed and taken note of the opinions of renowned writ-
ers and jurists on the influence of the Gulf of Paria Treaty with respect
to the development of the regime of the continental shelf. For example:
Zdenek J. Slouka, F. A. Vallat, and Andrassy. Slouka has opined the real
impetus in the said development can be derived from the Truman
Proclamation of 1945. I respectfully disagree. Three years before the
Truman Proclamation, the Gulf of Paria Treaty had already been
concluded.
The term continental shelf does not appear in the Treaty of 1942. The
legal draftsmen of this historic document did not consider the subma-
rine areas of the Gulf with the same legal interpretation as such areas
are given today (the territorial sea is currently 12 nautical miles–Article
3 of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea; in fact,
based on this definition there is apparently no area of high seas between
the neighboring states in the Gulf of Paria).
In the case of Petroleum Development Ltd. v. Sheik of Abu Dhabi Lord
Asquith said:
“In 1939 neither contracting party had ever heard of the continental shelf
which as a legal doctrine did not exist. No thought of it entered their
heads. None such entered that of the most sophisticated jurist.”17
Bearing the above in mind, it seems to me that the Contracting Parties
of the Treaty, through their draftsmen, defined what later became
known as the continental shelf as “submarine areas”.

16
See the Petroleum Act of Trinidad and Tobago Chap. 62:01 and previous
legislation.
17
18 ILR 144, at 152 (1951).
 the contribution of trinidad and tobago963

In the North Sea Continental Shelf Cases 1969 Judge Ammoun in his
separate opinion stated that: “[u]p to the eve of [the 1958] Conference,
it could be claimed that the doctrine of the continental shelf was still no
more than a custom in the process of formation.”18
I am of the view that the “custom in the process of formation” was
enshrined in the Treaty. This bilateral agreement (The Gulf of Paria
Treaty 1942), between Trinidad and Tobago and Venezuela triggered a
process which could have led to an innovative legal framework for
future agreements between states.
The above comments fortify my view that the Gulf of Paria Treaty of
1942 could be deemed the impetus from which the modern concept of
the continental shelf emerged.
The principles set out therein with respect to navigation, and protec-
tion of the environment have been specified and an orderly process for
exploration has been followed. For example, Article 5 of the said Treaty
ensures that the status of islands, islets or rocks above the surface of the
sea together with the territorial sea are maintained. Arts 7 and 8 are a
rather modern concept for that time in that they provide a legal obliga-
tion to prevent pollution of each others’ territorial waters during
exploitation of their submarine areas. The articles are set out as
follows:
Article 5
This Treaty refers solely to the submarine areas of the Gulf of Paria, and
nothing herein shall be held to affect in any way the status of the islands,
islets or rocks above the surface of the sea together with the territorial
waters thereof.
Article 6
Nothing in this treaty shall be held to affect in any way the status of the
waters of the Gulf of Paria or any rights of passage or navigation on the
surface of the seas outside the territorial waters of the Contracting
Parties. In particular, passage or navigation shall not be closed or be
impeded by any works or installations which may be erected, which
shall be of such a nature and shall be so constructed, placed, marked,
buoyed and lighted, as not to constitute a danger or obstruction to
shipping.

 ICJ Reports 1969, 101, 106.

18
964 anthony a. lucky

Article 7
Each of the High Contracting Parties shall take all practical measures
to prevent the exploitation of any submarine areas claimed or occupied
by him in the Gulf from causing the pollution of the territorial waters
of the other by oil, mud or any other fluid or substance liable to con-
taminate the navigable waters or the foreshore and shall concert with
the other to make the said measures as effective as possible.
Article 8
Each of the High Contracting Parties shall cause to be inserted in any
concession which may be granted for the exploitation of submarine
areas in the Gulf of Paria stipulations for securing the effective obser-
vance of the two preceding Articles, including a requirement for the
use by the concessionaire of modern equipment, and shall cause the
operation of any such concession to be supervised in order to ensure
that the provisions of the present Treaty are complied with.
Article 9
All differences between the High Contracting Parties relating to the
interpretation or execution of this Treaty shall be settled by such peace-
ful means as are recognised in International Law.
I am of the view that when the comparative articles with respect to the
continental shelf in the 1958 Conventions on the law of the sea and the
continental shelf in the 1982 United Nations Convention on the Law of
the Sea are examined there is precedent for the definition of the conti-
nental shelf and rights applicable thereto. The articles in the 1958
Conventions on the continental shelf and the United Nations
Convention on the Law of the Sea provide for protection from pollu-
tion of the waters, rights of passage and navigation. The draftsmen of
the Gulf of Paria Treaty and Annexation Orders demonstrated consid-
erable foresight in respect of the current law of the sea. They prescribed
a formula for the drafting of future treaties thereby providing the Treaty
with the impetus that I mentioned above in the development of the
regime of the continental shelf.
It is only fair to mention that some writers have argued that the
Gulf of Paria Treaty does not constitute the beginning from which the
modern continental shelf doctrine could have emerged. I do not agree
(see fn 3). The proponents of this view contend that the Truman
Proclamation of 1945 formed the real impetus for the development of
 the contribution of trinidad and tobago965

the doctrine of the continental shelf (see the judgment of the ICJ in the
1969 North Sea Continental Shelf Cases). Other international jurists
contend that the Treaty could be a useful guide for the division of a
common continental shelf by adjacent states and its acquisition as
national territory. However, this would not be possible today because
most, if not all, littoral states have signed, ratified, succeeded or acceded
to the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea in which the
continental shelf is defined.
It should be noted that the Gulf of Paria Treaty was concluded dur-
ing the World War II. The Pointe-a-Pierre refinery in Trinidad was at
that time and for a period afterwards deemed to be the largest refinery
in the then British Empire. Crude oil was supplied to the refinery from
the land; thereafter from the Soldado oil field in the Gulf of Paria. Laws
were then passed to provide for an orderly process and to protect the
marine environment.
It would be convenient to set out the laws which are in the Laws of
Trinidad and Tobago from 1955 to present because it is accepted that
the commercial production of oil and gas is inevitably subject to com-
plex laws and regulations because of the value and effect this resource
has on the economy of any producer country.19
In the light of exploration and exploitation in the past and continu-
ing at present the following acts in local legislation as they relate to
international treaties are relevant.

I. Laws (1955–Present) prior to the 1958 Conventions on the Law

of the Sea (with Specific Reference to Trinidad and Tobago)
The following laws set out below are consistent with the recognition
and implementation of international treaties and conventions to which
Trinidad and Tobago is a party.
Oil Pollution of Territorial Waters Act No. 25 of 1951 Chap. 37:03,
Laws of Trinidad and Tobago: An Act to make provision against the
discharge or escape of oil into the waters of Trinidad and Tobago.
Territorial Sea Act No. 38 of 1969: An Act to make provision with
respect to the territorial sea of Trinidad and Tobago (the territorial sea
was established at 12 nautical miles).

19
Joyce C. Lynch, Ministerial Discretion under the Petroleum Act and Selected
Responsibilities of the Petroleum Engineer.
966 anthony a. lucky

Continental Shelf Act No. 43 of 1969: An Act to make provision

as to the exploitation and exploration of the continental shelf; to ena-
ble effect to be given to certain provisions of Convention on the High
Seas done in Geneva on 29th April 1958; and for matters incidental
thereto.
In 1986 the above act was amended so that it would be in conformity
with the 1982 United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea.
The Continental Shelf Act of Trinidad and Tobago Chap. 1:52: “An Act
to make provision as to the exploration and exploitation of the conti-
nental shelf; to enable effect to be given to certain provisions of the
Conventions on the High Seas done in Geneva on 29th April 1958; and
for matters connected with those purposes.” Since then the United
Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea has come into force. Part VI
deals with the continental shelf and Article 76 sets out the definition
of the continental shelf and matters pertaining thereto. It was necessary
to amend the act so that the definition of the continental shelf will be
consistent with the convention. This was done by Act 23 of 1986. The
definition is now consistent with the definition in the convention.
The Petroleum Act and the Regulations Chap. 62:01: This Act consoli-
dates and amends the law relating to petroleum so as to make better
provision for the exploration for, and the development and production
of, petroleum, and for matters consequential or incidental thereto.
It is noticeable that like other states Trinidad and Tobago was adher-
ing to international agreements and keeping pace in its laws with the
continuing and rapid development of scientific and technological
advancement in the oil and natural gas industries.

II. After the Signing and Ratification of the United Nations

Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS)
Trinidad and Tobago signed the convention in December 1982. In
April 1986, Trinidad and Tobago ratified the convention. In October
1994, Trinidad and Tobago signed Part XI of UNCLOS and in July
1995 gave notice that it would be bound by Part XI.
The following laws are consistent with the relevant articles of
UNCLOS:
Marine Areas (Preservation and Enhancement) Act Chap. 37:02:
Laws of Trinidad and Tobago,
Sec. 3: Marine Areas (Restricted Area) Order (1973), Amended by
37 of 1996;
 the contribution of trinidad and tobago967

Sec. 6: Marine Areas (Preservation etc.) Regulations (1974).

Archipelagic Waters and Exclusive Economic Zone Act Chap. 51:06:
Laws of Trinidad and Tobago: An Act to declare the Republic of
Trinidad and Tobago an archipelagic State, and to define the new areas
of marine space appertaining to Trinidad and Tobago in the exclusive
economic zone, and in the archipelagic waters, and the nature and
extent of the jurisdiction to be exercised by it in each of these areas and
to make provision for matters connected therewith in accordance with
the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, done in Montego
Bay, Jamaica on 10th December 1982.
Sec. 6: specifies the Archipelagic Baseline of Trinidad & Tobago
Order 1988, Notice No. 206 of 1988; Amendment 1989 (of Printing
Error) and Legal Notice No. 77 of 1989.
Trinidad and Tobago is a party to the following Conventions:
IMO Convention 48; IMO amendments 91; IMO amendments 93;
SOLAS Convention 74; SOLAS Protocol 78; SOLAS Protocol 88;
LOAD LINES Convention 66; LOAD LINES Protocol 88; Tonnage
Convention 69; COLREG Convention 72; SAR Convention 79;
Facilitation Convention 65; MARPOL 73/78 (Annex I/II); MARPOL
73/78 (Annex III); MARPOL 73/78 (Annex IV); MARPOL 73/78
(Annex V); London Convention 72; London Convention Protocol 96;
Intervention Convention 69; CLC Protocol 92; Fund Protocol 92;
LLMC Protocol 96; SUA Convention 88; SUA Protocol 88; OPRC
Convention 90.
Cartagena Convention and its Protocols: The Cartagena Convention
is a comprehensive umbrella agreement for the protection and devel-
opment of the marine environment. This regional environmental con-
vention provides the legal framework for a cooperative regional and
national environment. It also provides the legal framework for coop-
erative regional and national actions in the WCR. The Convention is
supplemented by the Oil Spills Protocol, the SPAW Protocol and the
LBS Protocol.
The Shipping (Marine Pollution) Bill includes provisions of the
Cartagena Convention (see Part V of the Bill–Prevention of Pollution
from Ships).
The Marine Areas Preservation Act Chap. 37:02 (An Act respecting
the marine areas of Trinidad and Tobago within the Territorial Sea):
The Marine Areas (Restricted Area) Order provides for protection of
the Buccoo reef.
968 anthony a. lucky

Territorial Waters Act (1970): deals with the discharge of oil in the
territorial waters.
It is envisaged and proposed that The Oil Pollution of Territorial
Waters Act, currently in force, will be replaced and superseded by a
comprehensive Act, which is the Shipping (Marine Pollution) Bill20
(Annex 11). The Bill provides for powers and jurisdiction in relation to
pollution of the seas from ships, intervention on the high seas in cases
of oil pollution, dumping of waste at sea, prevention of pollution from
ships, preparedness for and response to oil pollution emergencies, lia-
bility and compensation for pollution damage and matters incidental
thereto. The Bill recognizes, enhances and implements the provisions
of relevant international conventions.
When the Bill is passed, it will incorporate the relevant provisions of
the 1982 Law of the Sea Convention; the International Convention
Relating to Intervention on the High Seas in Cases of Oil Pollution
Casualties; the Convention for the Protection and Development of the
Marine Environment of the Wider Caribbean Region (Cartagena de
Indias 1983) (Part V, section 39); the 1996 Protocol of the London
Convention; the International Convention for the Prevention of
Pollution from Ships 1973, as modified by the Protocol of 1978 relating
thereto and Protocol and Annexes thereto (MARPOL); and the
International Convention for the Safety of Life at Sea, 1974, including
its Protocol of 1978 and all amendments applicable to Trinidad and
Tobago.

E. The Framework Treaty (2007) and the Unitization Treaty

(2010) between the Republic of Trinidad and Tobago and the
Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela

The Gulf of Paria Treaty 1942 signaled the intention that both Trinidad
and Tobago and Venezuela would cooperate in their exploration and
exploitation of the mineral resources in the Gulf of Paria. Ever since
then this intention has been central in the relations between the two
states. In the 1990 delimitation treaty between the two states it was
found that there are hydrocarbon reserves extending across the

20
The Bill was being considered by a Joint Select Committee of parliament when it
lapsed because parliament was prorogued and recently dissolved (elections will take
place within three months from 8 April 2010, the date of prorogation).
 the contribution of trinidad and tobago969

delimitation line. In 2003 a Memorandum of Understanding by the

two governments declared the common interests of both states in pro-
moting and contributing to the development of the energy sector in
each state.
In March 2007 Trinidad and Tobago and Venezuela signed a joint
exploration agreement of the Loran-Manatee offshore gas field. The
gas field is east of Trinidad in the Atlantic. In August 2010 a
Unitization Agreement was signed in respect of the Loran-Manatee
field. This cross-border agreement is the first of its kind in the western
hemisphere.
The gas field is located on the maritime delimitation line between the
two states. Its objective is mutual cooperation between the govern-
ments in the development of projects and activities to facilitate the
monetization of each party’s hydrocarbon reserves from cross-border
hydrocarbon reserves in furtherance of national development and
regional integration (Article 17). The Treaty clearly defines a frame-
work agreement in terms of the thorough considerations of how
Trinidad and Tobago begins the process of extraction. The agreement
seeks to strengthen the cross-border relationships and to deepen these
bonds further in the energy sector as well as other areas of cooperation;
and affords each country an opportunity to widen its energy sector
growth and development.
It is envisaged that there will be similar unitization agreements on
the said border.

F. Conclusion

The international law of the sea has come of age since the conclusion of
the Gulf of Paria Treaty between Trinidad and Tobago and Venezuela
in 1942. This was a noticeable landmark in the development of the
regime of the continental shelf. The law of the sea has kept abreast of
modern technology and most of the principles have been codified in
the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea 1982 and the
Protocols and Conventions that have followed.
Through active participation during the preparation of the United
Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, delegates from Trinidad
and Tobago have made positive contributions to the drafting of the
convention. International jurists of Trinidad and Tobago continue to
make valid contributions to the development of the regime at confer-
ences and symposiums.
970 anthony a. lucky

In “coming of age” in this age of technological advancement in which

there is access to the deep seabed, the law has to provide the necessary
guidelines and controls for orderly exploration and exploitation. It is
my view that since the very beginning the law has provided the neces-
sary safeguards and will continue to keep abreast of technological
advancement.
After almost fourteen years of negotiations Trinidad and Tobago
and Venezuela entered into a unitization agreement for the exploita-
tion and development of Hydrocarbon Reservoirs of a field that extends
across the delimitation line between the two countries. A copy of the
Agreement is appended as Annex V.
As the Trinidad and Tobago Guardian stated on the occasion of the
signing of the “gas pact”: “The contract is the culmination of some 14
years of pioneering work between both countries.”21 In an interview for
the same newspaper article, the Energy Minister said she was surprised
that there had been no aggressive follow-up activity.22 The article con-
tinues to state that: “Under the agreement, T&T and Venezuela would
partner for the extraction and monetization of gas in the Loran-
Manatee field, which is said to hold bountiful reserves. The field strad-
dles the maritime boundary delimitation line between both
countries.”
The agreement “is the first of its kind in the western hemisphere and
speaks volumes for how much we as nations and as a region have
matured in our cross-border relations”.23 According to the Trinidad
and Tobago Guardian: “Trinidad and Tobago is expected to benefit
from 2.69 trillion cubic feet of original gas in place, with a potential
recovery of just over half that amount.”24

21
Trinidad and Tobago Guardian, online-edition, 16 August 2010, available at
http://test.guardian.co.tt/?q=business/business/2010/08/16/tt-venezuela-sign-gas
-pact-today-lead-business.
22
 Id.
23
Statement of Mrs. Carolyn Seepersad-Bachan, Minister of Energy of Trinidad and
Tobago, id.
24
 Id.
 The Commission on the Limits of the Continental
Shelf and Coastal States’ Submissions

L. D. M. Nelson

A. Introduction

The Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf is one of the

institutions created by the 1982 United Nations Convention on the Law
of the Sea1–the others being the International Tribunal for the Law of
the Sea and the International Seabed Authority. It is the institution
most directly concerned with the business of establishing the limits of
the continental shelf beyond 200 nautical miles.2 Its broad mission is
to act as a watchdog to prevent excessive coastal State claims. It has
been created specifically to determine the international legality of the
establishment of the outer limits of the continental shelf.

B. Membership

The Commission is composed of 21 members who are “experts in

the field of geology, geophysics or hydrography” (Article 2, para. 1 of
Annex II). It might here be remarked that the Convention does
not expressly provide for the participation of legal experts in the
Commission. To some it has been a surprising omission. The absence
of legal expertise seems to have been designed to ensure that the
Commission does not deal with legal matters. It is not a legally ori-
ented body. As Oxman has observed–“[t]he Commission is not a court,

1
The Commission’s function and operation are regulated by Annex II to the
Convention.
2
P. R. R. Gardiner, Reasons and methods for fixing the outer limit of the legal
continental shelf beyond 200 nautical miles, 11–12 Revue Iranienne des Relations
Internationales 145 (1978); J.-F. Pulvenis, The Continental Shelf Definition and
Rules Applicable to Resources, in: R.-J. Dupuy/D. Vignes (eds.), A Handbook on the
New Law of the Sea, 315, at 359 (1991); S. Karagiannis, Observations sur la Commission
des Limits du Plateau Continental, 8 Espaces et Ressources Maritimes 163, at 164
(1994).
972 l. d. m. nelson

and legal expertise is not included among the express qualifications of

its members”.3
The members of the Commission are “elected by States Parties […]
from among their nationals having due regard to the need to ensure
equitable geographical representation” (Article 2, para. 1 of Annex II).
They serve in a personal capacity. A State Party which has nominated a
member of the Commission is required to defray the expenses of that
member while in performance of his duties. This requirement has been
viewed by some developing countries as burdensome.

C. Functions

The main function of the Commission as set out in the Convention, is

“to consider the data and other material submitted by coastal States
concerning the outer limits of the continental shelf in areas where
those limits extend beyond 200 nautical miles, and to make recom-
mendations in accordance with Article 76 and the Statement of
Understanding adopted on 29 August 1980 by the Third United Nations
Conference on the Law of the Sea” (Article 3, para. 1 (a) of Annex II).4
The Commission has another function which seems designed to assist
coastal States in the preparation of data and information for submis-
sion to the Commission. It has “to provide scientific and technical
advice, if requested by the coastal State concerned during the prepara-
tion of the data […]” (Article 3, para. 1 (b) of Annex II).
The Convention stipulates that the Commission shall make recom-
mendations to coastal States on matters relating to the establishment of
the outer limits of the continental shelf and it is on the basis of these
recommendations that the coastal State shall establish the outer limits
of its continental shelf. In the words of the Convention “The limits of

3
 B. H. Oxman, The Third United Nations Conference on the Law of the Sea:
The Ninth Session (1980), 75 American Journal of International Law 211, at 230 (1981).
See also UN Division for Ocean Affairs and the Law of the Sea/Office of Legal Affairs,
Definition of the Continental Shelf: An Examination of the Relevant Provisions of the
United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, at 29, para. 87 (1993).
4
The Court in the Nicaragua/Honduras case has in clear words stated that “any claim
of continental shelf rights beyond 200 miles must be in accordance with Article 76 of
UNCLOS and reviewed by the Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf
established thereunder”, Case Concerning Territorial and Maritime Dispute between
Nicaragua and Honduras in the Caribbean Sea (Nicaragua v. Honduras), ICJ Reports
2007, 659, 759, para. 319.
 the commission on the limits of the continental shelf973

the shelf established by a coastal State on the basis of these recommen-

dations shall be final and binding” (Article 76, para. 8).

D. Final and Binding

This writer shares the views of those observers who contend that “bind-
ing” here signified binding erga omnes5–i.e. on the coastal State making
the submission, on the international community as a whole and prob-
ably on international institutions, including international courts and
tribunals. The recommendations of the Commission in themselves
have no juridical force as such. It is the outer limits established by the
coastal State on the basis of the Commission’s recommendations which
are final and binding. The recommendations have thus been trans-
muted. Therefore in my view there is probably little room for what may
be termed “judicial review” in such a situation. It seems that as a gen-
eral rule an international court or tribunal cannot render invalid limits
which are in fact based on the recommendations of the Commission.
Per contra it has been argued that “[t]he more convincing interpreta-
tion of ‘final and binding’ is that it refers only to the submitting state in
that the submitting state, having delineated its outer limit of the conti-
nental shelf and that limit not being challenged by other states, cannot
subsequently change the location of its outer limit. To this extent, and
this extent only, would the outer limit be ‘final and binding’, not be
contestable and perhaps become an obligation erga omnes. This inter-
pretation of ‘final and binding’ is consistent with the political dynamic
of ocean boundary-making and the real achievement of Article 76
which is that a claiming state cannot revisit its outer limit boundary.”6
The function of the Commission is to review the information and
data submitted by coastal States and to make recommendations on
matters relating to the establishment of the outer limits of the conti-
nental shelf. It is the sole institution which has been created by the
Convention to assess the scientific and technical issues with respect to

5
See supra note 3 (Definition of the Continental Shelf), at 29, para. 86;
J. C. Lupinacci, El Régimen de la Plataforma Continental en la Convención sobre
el Derecho del Mar, in: P. M. Arana (ed.), Trabajos Presentados a la Conferencia
Internacional sobre Recursos Marinos del Pacifico, 517, at 556 (1983).
6
T. L. McDorman, The Role of the Commission on the Limits of the Continental
Shelf: A Technical Body in a Political World, 17 International Journal of Marine and
Coastal Law 301, at 315 (2002).
974 l. d. m. nelson

the establishment of the outer limits of the continental shelf where

those limits extend beyond 200 nautical miles. Were a dispute to arise
concerning the interpretation of technical and scientific criteria it
would seem strange to leave the resolution of such a dispute to interna-
tional courts and tribunals.7 Moreover international courts and tribu-
nals, it has been acknowledged, face serious problems in dealing with
scientific and technical issues.8 Such problems can only be exacerbated
if disputes of this nature were to be submitted to such courts and
tribunals.

E. Date of Submission of Data and Information

The Convention stipulates that a coastal State which intends to estab-

lish, in accordance with Article 76, the outer limits of its continental
shelf beyond 200 nautical miles must submit data and information on
such limits within ten years of the entry into force of the Convention
for that State (Article 4 of Annex II).
This requirement seemed burdensome to several coastal States, par-
ticularly the developing coastal States, including small island develop-
ing States. They argued that “their inability to satisfy the technical
requirements of compliance with Annex II to the Convention might
prejudice their opportunity to establish the limits of an extended con-
tinental shelf beyond 200 nautical miles. For such States it may be dif-
ficult or impossible even to make a partial submission within the
10-year time frame.”9 As a further argument they emphasised the dif-
ficulty of preparing submissions. It was noted that the Scientific and
Technical Guidelines adopted by the Commission on the Limits of the
Continental Shelf highlighted the complexity of the issues involved
in the interpretation and application of Article 76 of the Convention.
The preparation of a submission required the consideration of many
technical issues, such as the identification of basepoints, the location of

7
On which see J. E. Noyes, Judicial and Arbitral Proceedings and the Outer Limits
of the Continental Shelf, 42 Vanderbilt Journal of Transnational Law 1211, at 1249–
1252 (2009) and A. G. Oude Elferink, The Continental Shelf Beyond 200 Nautical
Miles: The Relationship between the CLCS and Third Party Dispute Settlement, in:
A. G. Oude Elferink/D. R. Rothwell (eds.), Ocean Management in the 21st Century:
Institutional Frameworks and Responses, 107, at 119–123 (2004).
8
A. Riddell/B. Plant, Evidence before the International Court of Justice, at 329–358
(2009).
9
 UN Doc. SPLOS/67, para. 3 (2001).
 the commission on the limits of the continental shelf975

the foot of slopes, sediment thickness and the 2,500-metre isobaths.

This required the analysis of bathymetric, geological and geophysical
data as well as geodetic methodologies. It was noted that the require-
ments were difficult for all States to meet, let alone those with limited
capacity.10 It was soon generally recognised that some States, in partic-
ular developing countries, faced real difficulties in submitting informa-
tion to the Commission in accordance with the terms of Article 76 of
the Convention and of Article 4 of Annex II to the Convention due to
a lack of financial and technical resources and relevant capacity and
expertise.
At the Eleventh Meeting of States Parties held in May 2001, it was
decided that “[i]n the case of a State Party for which the Convention
entered into force before 13 May 1999, it is understood that the ten-
year time period referred to in article 4 of Annex II to the Convention
shall be taken to have commenced on 13 May 1999”–thus establishing
13 May 2009 as the deadline for submissions. The decision went on
significantly to add that “[t]he general issue of the ability of States, par-
ticularly developing States, to fulfil the requirements of article 4 of
Annex II to the Convention be kept under review”11.
At the Eighteenth Meeting of States Parties held in 2008, a mecha-
nism was devised to satisfy the requirements of Article 4 of Annex II
without in fact amending its terms. It was decided, inter alia, “that the
time period referred to in article 4 of Annex II to the Convention and
the decision contained in SPLOS/72, paragraph (a), may be satisfied by
submitting to the Secretary-General preliminary information indica-
tive of the outer limits of the continental shelf beyond 200 nautical
miles and a description of the status of preparation and intended
date of making a submission in accordance with the requirements of
article 76 of the Convention and with the Rules of Procedure and the
Scientific and Technical Guidelines of the Commission on the Limits
of the Con­tinental Shelf.”12 It went on to add that pending the receipt of
the submission the preliminary information was not to be examined
by the Commission and according to this decision it was made without
prejudice to the submission. This flexible approach will certainly assist
States, especially developing countries, in meeting the requirements
specified in the Convention without in fact affecting its integrity.

10
Id., para. 6.
11
 UN Doc. SPLOS/72 (2001).
12
 UN Doc. SPLOS/183 (2008).
976 l. d. m. nelson

It may here be noted that in its preamble the decision recalled that
the rights of the coastal State over the continental shelf do not depend
on occupation, effective or notional, or any express proclamation thus
echoing Article 77, para. 3, of the Convention which is itself based on
Article 2, para. 3, of the 1958 Geneva Convention on the Continental
Shelf. As a consequence, as several delegations asserted, it seems, a fail-
ure to meet the obligations contained in Article 4 of Annex II–that is a
failure to meet the ten-year period–could not affect the entitlement of
a coastal State to its continental shelf beyond 200 nautical miles.13

F. Submissions

I. Joint Submissions
In accordance with the Rules of Procedure of the Commission: “Joint
or separate submissions to the Commission requesting the Commission
to make recommendations with respect to delineation may be made by
two or more coastal States by agreement:
a) Without regard to the delimitation of boundaries between those
States; or
b) With an indication, by means of geodetic coordinates, of the extent
to which a submission is without prejudice to the matters relating to
the delimitation of boundaries with another or other States Parties
to this Agreement” (Annex I, para. 4 of the Rules of Procedure).
Joint submissions have been made by France, Ireland, Spain and the
United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland in respect of
the Celtic Sea and the Bay of Biscay (2006); Republic of Mauritius and
the Republic of the Seychelles concerning the Mascarene Plateau region
(2008); Federated States of Micronesia, Papua New Guinea and
Solomon Islands concerning the Ontong Java Plateau (2009); and
Malaysia and Viet Nam in respect of the southern part of the South
China Sea (2009). With regard to joint submissions certain interesting
and useful observations of general import have been made. It was
noted that: “[…] joint submissions by groups of coastal States would
help the Commission to keep its increasing workload to a minimum,
and encourage the cooperative conditions and mutual understanding

 UN Doc. SPLOS/184, para. 88 (2008).

13
 the commission on the limits of the continental shelf977

among neighbouring coastal States conducive to subsequent amicable

shelf boundary delimitation”14 (emphasis added).
Thus this device may offer a useful mechanism which may assist
States to reach agreement on their outer continental shelf boundaries.

II. Multilateral Arrangements to Facilitate the

Review of Submissions
In order to facilitate the review of submissions by the Commission
some coastal States have entered into multilateral arrangements. The
following are some examples:
1. “On 20 September 2006 an agreement was made in the form of
Agreed Minutes between Iceland, Denmark on behalf of the Faroe
Islands, and Norway on the delimitation of the continental shelf
beyond 200 M between Iceland, the Faroe Islands and Norway in
the Ægir Basin area. In the Agreed Minutes, this area is referred to
as the southern part of the Banana Hole.
According to the Agreed Minutes, each State has to document,
through a submission to the Commission, that the area of its conti-
nental shelf beyond 200 M corresponds in size, as a minimum, to
the area that falls to the same State according to the Agreed Min-
utes.
Pursuant to the Agreed Minutes, when one State submits docu-
mentation concerning the outer limits of its continental shelf in the
southern part of the Banana Hole to the Commission, the other
States will notify the Secretary-General of the United Nations, in
accordance with the Rules of Procedure of the Commission, that
they do not object to the Commission considering the documenta-
tion and making recommendations on this basis, without prejudice
to the submission of documentation by these States at a later stage
or to the question of bilateral delimitations of the continental shelf
between the three States.

14
L. D. M. Nelson, The Settlement of Disputes Arising From Conflicting Outer
Continental Shelf Claims, 24 The International Journal of Marine and Coastal Law 409,
at 414 (2009) citing H. Llewellyn, The Commission on the Limits of the Continental
Shelf: Joint Submission by France, Ireland, Spain, and the United Kingdom, 56
International and Comparative Law Quarterly 677, at 683–684 (2007). See too
E. Jarmache, A Propos de la Commission des Limites du Plateau Continental,
11 Annuaire du Droit de la Mer 51, at 64–65 (2006).
978 l. d. m. nelson

Following the procedures set out in article 76, paragraph 8, of the

Convention, the States will finalize the delimitation of the continen-
tal shelf in the area through three bilateral agreements.”15
2. Under the auspices of the Economic Community of West African
States (ECOWAS) Benin, Côte d’Ivoire, Ghana, Nigeria and Togo
agreed on a “no objection” clause which stated as follows: “Issues of
the limit of adjacent/opposite boundaries shall continue to be dis-
cussed in a spirit of cooperation to arrive at a definite delimitation
even after the presentation of the preliminary information/submis-
sion. Member States would therefore write ‘no objection note’ to the
submission of their neighbouring States.”16

G. Prevention of Outer Continental Shelf Maritime

Boundary Disputes

In accordance with the Convention, “[t]he actions of the Commission

shall not prejudice matters relating to delimitation of boundaries
between States with opposite or adjacent coasts.”17 It is clear that the
Commission must therefore be mindful of existing or potential outer
continental shelf boundary disputes between States with opposite or
adjacent coasts and must steer clear from dealing with submissions
that may prejudice matters relating to the delimitation of boundaries
between States. The Commission has drawn up Rules of Procedure
to deal with this problem. The Commission expressly recognises that
the competence with respect to matters regarding disputes which
may arise in connection with the establishment of the outer limits of
the continental shelf rests with States. In case there is a dispute in
the delimitation of the continental shelf between opposite or adjacent
States or in other cases of unresolved land or maritime disputes, sub-
missions may be made and shall be considered in accordance with
Annex I of the Rules. Article 5 (a) of Annex I in particular states that
“[i]n cases where a land or maritime dispute exists, the Commission
shall not consider and qualify a submission made by any of the States

15
The Icelandic Continental Shelf–Partial Submission (Executive Summary), at 8
(2009).
16
Submission by Ghana (Executive Summary), at 5 (2009).
17
Annex II, Article 9 and see also Article 76, para. 10.
 the commission on the limits of the continental shelf979

concerned in the dispute. However, the Commission may consider one

or more submissions in the areas under dispute with prior consent
given by all States that are parties to such a dispute.” These specific rules
of procedure of the Commission certainly seek to ensure that dis-
putes concerning outer continental shelf boundaries are prevented or
at least not exacerbated. Coastal States seem to take these requirements
fully into account when making their submissions. Here are some
examples:
1. Government of Barbados Continental Shelf Submission Executive
Summary: “There are areas of potential overlapping entitlements in
respect of the continental shelf beyond 200 M in both the Southern
(the Republic of Guyana and the Republic of Suriname) and North-
ern areas (the French Republic). The governments of the Republic
of Suriname, the Republic of Guyana and the French Republic, have
each agreed not to object to the consideration by the Commission
of Barbados’ submission.”
2. Brazilian Submission Addendum to the Executive Summary:
“Brazil assures that there are no maritime boundary disputes with
the adjacent coastal States, France (French Guiana) and Uruguay.”
3. The French Continental Shelf Partial Submission Executive
Summary: “In accordance with paragraph 2 (a) of Annex I to the
Commission’s Rules of Procedure, France wishes to inform the
Commission that the continental shelf in the area of French
Guiana is not the subject of any dispute between France and any
other State. The continental shelf in the south east sector of New
Caledonia (the area of the Loyalty Ridge) is the subject of exchanges
of notes verbales between France and Australia on the one hand,
and France and New Zealand on the other. With these exchanges,
the three States provide the Commission with the assurance that
their respective submissions can be treated without prejudice to
issues related to the delimitation of the continental shelf between
them.”
4. Government of the Republic of Indonesia Partial Submission in
respect of the area of North West of Sumatra Executive Summary:
“In accordance with paragraph 2 (a) of Annex of the Rules of Proce-
dures, Indonesia wishes to inform the Commission that the area of
continental shelf in North West of Sumatra that is the subject of
this partial submission is not the subject to any dispute between
­Indonesia with any other state.”
980 l. d. m. nelson

H. The Role of the Commission in the Interpretation and

Application of the Convention

It has been argued that the Commission has the competence which
has not been expressly granted but implied to interpret and apply
the provisions of the Convention which are relevant to its work.18
The Commission is not unaware of this role.19
This question of the role of the Commission in the interpretation
of the Convention was raised at the 19th Meeting of States Parties held
in June 2009. There was a divergence of views with respect to the inter-
pretation of the provisions of the Convention which were relevant to
the work of the Commission. It was noted that “[s]ome delegations
strongly felt that the mandate of the Commission did not allow it
to interpret the Convention. It was observed that article 76 of, and
Annex II to, the Convention only provided the Commission with a sci-
entific and technical mandate. The composition of the Commission as
well as its Rules of Procedure, along with its Scientific and Technical
Guidelines, confirmed that conclusion.”20
There is little doubt, in my view, that the Commission has the com-
petence to interpret and apply the relevant provisions of Article 76 and
of Annex II dealing with scientific and technical issues such as the
identification of base points, the location of the foot of the slope, sedi-
ment thickness and the 2,500 M isobath. In fact the composition of the
Commission, as we have already seen, was designed to deal with such

18
L. D. M. Nelson, The Role of the Commission on the Limits of the Continental
Shelf in the Interpretation and Application of the Convention, in: M. H. Nordquist/
J. N. Moore (eds.), Current Marine Environmental Issues and the International
Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, 255 (2001).
19
It expressly stated in the Guidelines that “[…] the Commission aims also to clar-
ify its interpretation of scientific, technical and legal terms contained in the Convention.
Clarification is required in particular because the Convention makes use of scientific
terms in a legal context which at times departs significantly from accepted scientific
definitions and terminology. In other cases, clarification is required because various
terms in the Convention might be left open to several possible and equally acceptable
interpretations. It is also possible that it may not have been felt necessary at the time of
the Third United Nations Conference on the Law of the Sea to determine the precise
definition of various scientific and technical terms. In still other cases, the need for
clarification arises as a result of the complexity of several provisions and the potential
scientific and technical difficulties which might be encountered by States in making a
single and unequivocal interpretation of each of them”, Scientific and Technical
Guidelines of the Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf, UN Doc.
CLCS/11 (1999), para. 1.3.
20
 UN Doc. SPLOS/203, para. 71 (2009).
 the commission on the limits of the continental shelf981

matters. It may be remarked, however, that even in such cases, the legal
interpretation of Article 76 may be very much at issue.21 That is why it
is not at all easy to make a clear distinction between on the one hand
legal issues and on the other scientific and technical ones.
However, there are issues which more properly concern matters of
law: the application of Article 121 (3);22 the validity of baselines and
sovereignty over territory. Such matters, by their very nature, lie out-
side the competence of the Commission.

I. Article 121 (3)

Article 121 (3) reads as follows: “Rocks which cannot sustain human
habitation or economic life of their own shall have no exclusive eco-
nomic zone or continental shelf.” Japan’s submission to the Commission
of 12 November 2008 raised the question of the legal status of Oki-no-
Tori Shima. The Republic of Korea declared that it “has consistently
held the view that Oki-no-Tori Shima, considered as a rock under
Article 121, paragraph 3 of the Convention, is not entitled to any
continental shelf extending to or beyond 200 nautical miles from the
baselines from which the breadth of the territorial sea is measured,
as defined in Article 76 of the Convention” (27 February 2009,
MUN/046/09).
The Republic of Korea made this significant point. It stated that the
legal status of Oki-no-Tori Shima is not a scientific or technical matter

21
For example, during the Subcommission’s consideration of the United Kingdom’s
submission differences arose between the United Kingdom and the Subcommission
with respect to “natural prolongation” and “submerged natural prolongation” a­ pplicable
to Ascension Island under Article 76. The United Kingdom maintained that Article 76
provided that the first consideration to be addressed was the extent of the natural pro-
longation of the coastal State’s land territory, which, in accordance with Article 76 (1)
extended to the outer edge of the continental margin. It is only then that it is possible
to identify in what region the formulae in Article 76 (4) must be applied. The United
Kingdom did not consider that natural prolongation, an inherent property of any land-
mass, can be defined by applying Article 76 (4). Whether there was any natural prolon-
gation of the submerged component of a land territory could only be established by an
assessment of all the available geoscientific data as a whole. In response the Subcom­
mission argued, inter alia, that “[t]he outer edge of the continental margin in the sense
of article 76, paragraph 3, is established by applying the provisions of article 76, para-
graph 4, through measurements from the FOS” [Foot of the slope] (see letter of 18
February 2010, at 3 in Annex II), Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf:
Summary of Recommendations of the Commission on the Limits of the Continental
Shelf in Regard to the Submission made by the United Kingdom of Great Britain and
Northern Ireland in Respect of Ascension Island on 9 May 2008, at 5.
22
 UN Doc. SPLOS/203, paras. 70 and 76 (2009).
982 l. d. m. nelson

involving the establishment of the outer limits of the continental shelf,

but rather a matter concerning the interpretation and application of
Article 121 of the Convention, which, it claims, is beyond the purview
of the Commission.
China, for its part, also noted that “the so-called Oki-no-Tori Shima
Island is in fact a rock as referred to in article 121 (3) of the Convention.
Therefore, the Chinese Government wishes to draw the attention of
the members of the Commission, the States Parties to the Convention
as well as the Members of the United Nations to the inconformity
[sic] with the Convention with regard to the inclusion of the rock of
Oki-no-Tori in Japan’s Submission.”23
In the report on the consideration by the Commission of the sub-
mission by Japan, the Commission acknowledged that it “has no role
on matters relating to the legal interpretation of article 121 of the
Convention.”24
There can be no question that the interpretation and application
of Article 121 (3) is not a matter which lies within the competence of
the Commission. In the opinion of this writer, a dispute concerning
the interpretation and application of Article 121 (3) falls within the
competence of the institutions mentioned in Article 287.

II. Baselines
The validity of baselines under international law is a purely legal mat-
ter. It is beyond the power of the Commission to question, or make
recommendations on, the baselines used by a State in its submission.
The Commission itself has observed in the Scientific and Technical
Guidelines that it “is not entitled by the Convention to issue any rec-
ommendations with respect to the delineation of baselines from which
the breadth of the territorial sea is measured”. It further remarked that
“[i]ts role is limited to a potential request for information about the
geodetic position and definition of the baselines used in a submission
made by a coastal State”25. The Commission referred to two cases where
it may request geodetic information about baselines. “First, it must be

23
Translation of letter CML/2/2009 dated 6 February 2009 to H. E. Mr. Ban
Ki-Moon.
24
See Statement by the Chairman of the Commission on the Limits of the
Continental Shelf on the Progress of Work in the Commission, UN Doc. CLCS/62
(2009), para. 59.
25
See supra note 19, para. 3.3.1.
 the commission on the limits of the continental shelf983

satisfied that the test of appurtenance has been positively met. Secondly,
if the 350 M limit is employed as a constraint in a submission, the
Commission might also find it useful to make recommendations in
relation to the methodology employed in the delineation of this limit.”26
The United States has made the following comments on the role of
the Commission with respect to baselines. “The Government of the
United States of America is of the view that, while the Commission has
no competence over questions of baselines from which the breadth of
the territorial sea is measured, it should not be perceived as endorsing
particular baselines. In any event, the Commission should ensure that
it does not, on a global basis, endorse baselines, whether or not they
may be inconsistent with international law. It might, for example, indi-
cate in all recommendations regarding all submissions, that it is not
taking a position regarding baselines.”27

I. Third States

Have third States the right to comment or make observations on sub-

missions which are being examined by the Commission? This matter
arose quite starkly in the case of the Brazilian Submission of 17 May
2004. In a letter distributed to all States members of the United Nations
and to all Commission members the United States, inter alia, doubted
“whether the feature in question (Vitoria-Trindade) is part of Brazil’s
continental margin beyond 200 nautical miles from the baselines from
which the territorial sea is measured. The United States suggests that
the Commission takes a cautious approach with regard to this feature.”
The Commission had this to say in response: “Annex II to the
Convention and the Rules of Procedure to the CLCS provide for only
one role to be played by other States in regard to the consideration of
the data and other material submitted by coastal States concerning the
outer limits of the continental shelf beyond 200 nautical miles. Only in
the case of a dispute between States with opposite or adjacent coasts or
in other cases of unresolved land or maritime disputes would the
Commission be required to consider communications from States
other than the submitting one. Consequently, the Commission con-
cluded that the content of the letter from the United States should not

26
Id. See para. 3.3.2.
27
Letter of 28 February 2002 being a reaction of the United States to the Russian
Submission of 20 December 2001.
984 l. d. m. nelson

be taken into consideration by the Commission. The Commission also

instructed the Subcommission to disregard the comments contained in
that letter during its examination of the Brazilian submission.”28
For its part, the United States did not accept the Commission’s
interpretation of the Rules of Procedure. It observed that Annex III,
section II.2 (a) (v) of the Rules provided that the coastal State repre-
sentatives are to make a presentation on “comments on any note ver-
bale from other States regarding the data reflected in the executive
summary including all charts and coordinates made public by the
Secretary-General in accordance with rule 50”.
“Even if one were to conclude that the Commission’s Rules do not
require the Commission to consider communications from States
other than the submitting one or ones involved in unresolved disputes,
we find nothing in Annex II or the Rules that prohibits the Commission
from doing so. One would assume that the Commission would use its
expertise to review thoroughly the relevant scientific literature regard-
ing the area covered by each submission. If the Commission can review
scientific literature, we see no reason why it cannot at least consider the
views of other States. Where the submitting State has an obvious inter-
est in maximizing its continental shelf, other States (and the interna-
tional community as a whole) have legitimate interests in the matter as
well and may be able to shed light on aspects of the submission that
might not have otherwise been considered.”29
The Commission has made it clear that only in the case of a dis-
pute between States with opposite or adjacent coasts or in other cases
of unresolved land or maritime disputes it is prepared to deal with
communications from States other than the submitting one. It may be
contended, however, that all States members of the international
community–States Parties and indeed non-States Parties to the
Convention–have a legitimate interest in matters concerning the Area
(international seabed area) which is the common heritage of mankind
and thus in its protection and preservation. It has been declared that
“[a]ll States have an interest in being notified about the limits proposed
in a submission.”30 It seems reasonable that all States should have the

28
 UN Doc. CLCS/42 (2004), para. 17.
29
Letter of 25 October 2004 from the Deputy Representative of the United States of
America to the United Nations being a reaction to the Brazilian Submission of 17 May
2004.
30
Legal Opinion dated 25 August 2005 from the Legal Counsel, UN Doc. CLCS/46
(2005), at 12.
 the commission on the limits of the continental shelf985

right to comment upon these limits. It may be remarked that the

Commission made no reference to the non-party status of the United
States as a reason for rejecting the letter of the United States.

J. Antarctica

Seven States have made claims to sovereignty over land territory in

Antarctica. The claimant States, as they are called, are Argentina,
Australia, Chile, France, New Zealand, Norway and the United
Kingdom. There are States Parties to the Antarctic Treaty “which nei-
ther recognise nor assert such rights or claims including those States
which assert a basis of claim to territorial sovereignty in Antarctica”31–
the United States and the Russian Federation. This non-recognition
is shared by a number of States not parties to the Antarctic Treaty. It is
to be noted that the claims of three States–Argentina, Chile and the
United Kingdom–overlap.
Article IV of the Antarctic Treaty (1959) was designed to deal with
these “territorial questions”.32 It read as follows:
1. Nothing contained in the present Treaty shall be interpreted as:
(a) a renunciation by any Contracting Party of previously asserted
rights of or claims to territorial sovereignty in Antarctica;
(b) a renunciation or diminution by any Contracting Party of any
basis of claim to territorial sovereignty in Antarctica which it
may have whether as a result of its activities or those of its
nationals in Antarctica, or otherwise;
(c) prejudicing the position of any Contracting Party as regards its
recognition or non-recognition of any other State’s right of or
claim or basis of claim to territorial sovereignty in Antarctica.
2. No acts or activities taking place while the present Treaty is in force
shall constitute a basis for asserting, supporting or denying a claim
to territorial sovereignty in Antarctica or create any rights of sover-
eignty in Antarctica. No new claim, or enlargement of an existing
claim, to territorial sovereignty in Antarctica shall be asserted while
the present Treaty is in force.

31
Sixth preambular para. of the Convention on the Regulation of Antarctic Mineral
Resource Activities.
32
A. Watts, International Law and the Antarctic Treaty System, at 111–140 (1992).
986 l. d. m. nelson

This provision can be viewed as the cornerstone of the Antarctic

Treaty and, as has been said, represents an effective dispute manage-
ment mechanism.33 It is not at all surprising that the territorial ques-
tions in Antarctica have been raised in the context of the submission of
information to the Commission under Article 76, para. 8.34
Faced with the requirements embodied in Article 76, para. 8, as well
as Annex II, Article 4, and the need to preserve the stability of the
Antarctic regime the claimant States–all parties to the Convention on
the Law of the Sea–saw themselves as possessing the following options:
i) to submit information to the Commission which would not be exam-
ined by it for the time being or ii) to make a partial submission not
including the continental shelf adjacent to Antarctica, for which a sub-
mission may be made later, “notwithstanding the provisions regarding
the 10-year period established by article 4 of annex II to UNCLOS and
the subsequent decision on its application by the 11th Meeting of States
Parties to UNCLOS.”35
Some claimants have adopted the first option in that they have
submitted information relating to continental shelf adjacent to
Antarctica to the Commission which shall remain unexamined by
it for the time being. They are Australia36 and Norway.37 The United

33
Id., at 140.
34
On which see A. G. Oude Elferink, The Continental Shelf of Antarctica:
Implications of the Requirement to Make a Submission to the CLCS under Article 76
of the LOS Convention, 17 International Journal of Marine and Coastal Law 485
(2002).
35
See above section E.
36
“Australia has regard to the circumstances of the area south of 60 degrees South
latitude and the special legal and political status of Antarctica under the provisions of
the Antarctic Treaty, including its article IV, and notes that appurtenant to Antarctica
there exist areas of continental shelf the extent of which has yet to be defined. It is open
to the States concerned to submit information to the Commission which would not be
examined by it for the time being, or to make a partial submission not including such
areas of continental shelf, for which a submission may be made later, notwithstanding
the provisions regarding the ten-year period established by article 4 of Annex II to
UNCLOS and the subsequent decision on its application taken by the Eleventh Meeting
of States Parties to UNCLOS. Consistent with the first option, Australia requests the
Commission in accordance with its rules not to take any action for the time being with
regard to the information in this submission that relates to continental shelf appurte-
nant to Antarctica”, Note No. 89/2004 accompanying Australia’s Submission.
37
Norway: “The maritime areas appurtenant to Dronning Maud Land are charac-
terized by an extended continental margin. These are, however, covered by the provi-
sions of the Antarctic Treaty of 1 December 1959. Norway therefore requests the
Commission, in accordance with its rules, not to take any action for the time being
with regard to the information in this submission that relates to the continental shelf
appurtenant to Dronning Maud Land”, Submission of Norway in respect of Bouvetøya
and Dronning Maud Land, at 6.
 the commission on the limits of the continental shelf987

Kingdom38 and France39 have chosen to make a partial submission not

including the area of continental shelf adjoining Antarctica reserving
the right to make a subsequent submission, notwithstanding the provi-
sions regarding the ten-year period established by Article 4 of Annex II
to the Convention and the subsequent decision on its application taken
by the 11th Meeting of States Parties. Chile has stated that the
Commission will be duly informed of the option to be taken by Chile
regarding the Chilean Antarctic Territory.40
Several non-claimant States–United States, Russian Federation,
Germany, Netherlands, India and Japan–have lodged protests against
these submissions. They argued that it was necessary to maintain har-
mony between the Antarctic Treaty and the United Nations Convention
on the Law of the Sea in order to ensure the continuing peaceful coop-
eration, security and stability in the Antarctic area. Recalling Article IV
of the Antarctic Treaty they do not recognise any claims to territo-
rial sovereignty in Antarctica and therefore are not prepared to recog-
nise rights over continental shelf which are derived from territorial
sovereignty.41

38
“The United Kingdom has regard to the circumstances of the area south of
60 degrees South latitude and the special legal and political status of Antarctica under
the provisions of the Antarctic Treaty, including its article IV, and notes that appurte-
nant to Antarctica there exist areas of continental shelf the extent of which has yet to be
defined. It is open to the States concerned to submit information to the Commission
which would not be examined by it for the time being, or to make a partial submission
not including such areas of continental shelf, for which a submission may be made
later, notwithstanding the provisions regarding the ten-year period established by arti-
cle 4 of Annex II to UNCLOS and the subsequent decision on its application taken by
the Eleventh Meeting of States Parties to UNCLOS”, Note 168/08 transmitted with the
Submission of the United Kingdom to the Commission relating to the Continental
Shelf of Ascension Island.
39
“Therefore, in accordance with the Commission’s regulations, France hereby
makes a partial submission which does not include the areas of the continental shelf
that adjoin Antarctica and for which a submission may later be made, notwithstanding
the provisions of Annex II, article 4, of the Convention concerning the 10-year period
and the decisions regarding its application that were taken at the Eleventh meeting of
States parties thereto”, Note HR/cl No. 69 accompanying the Partial Submission of
France to the Commission in respect of the areas of the French Antilles and the
Kerguelen Islands.
40
Preliminary information indicative of the outer limits of the continental shelf and
description of the status of preparation and intended date of making a submission to
the Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf, The Government of Chile, May
2009, at 19.
41
For instance in response to the submission of Australia the reaction of the follow-
ing States may be noted: USA: “The United States wishes to inform you that, recalling
Article IV of the Antarctic Treaty, the United States does not recognize any State’s claim
to territory in Antarctica and consequently does not recognize any State’s rights over
988 l. d. m. nelson

The Commission is under no obligation to review the submis-

sions made to it by claimant States relating to the continental shelf
appurtenant to Antarctica. The mechanism employed by claimant
States has enabled the efficacy of Article IV of the Antarctic Treaty42

the seabed and subsoil of the submarine areas beyond and adjacent to the continent of
Antarctica. The United States acknowledges with appreciation Australia’s request to the
Commission that it not take any action on that portion of its submission relating to
areas of the seabed and subsoil adjacent to Antarctica” (Note of 3 December 2004).
Russian Federation: “Based on the provisions of article 4 of the Antarctic Treaty of
1959, the Russian Federation does not recognize any claims in relation to territories
located in the area covered by the Treaty, nor does it regard the assertion of such claims
by any State as establishing rights with respect to the seabed (continental shelf) and its
mineral resources in areas appurtenant to Antarctica. In this connection, the Russian
Federation takes note of and supports the request by Australia that the Commission
should not take any action with regard to the part of its submission that relates to
the seabed (continental shelf) appurtenant to Antarctica in the area covered by the
Antarctic Treaty of 1959” (9 December 2004, No. 739/n). Japan: “Japan confirms the
importance of keeping harmony between the Antarctic Treaty and the United Nations
Convention on the Law of the Sea and thereby ensuring the continuing peaceful coop-
eration, security and stability in the Antarctic area. Recalling Article IV of the Antarctic
Treaty, Japan does not recognize any State’s right of or claims to territorial sovereignty
in the Antarctic, and consequently does not recognize any State’s rights over or claims
to the water, seabed and subsoil of the submarine areas adjacent to the continent of
Antarctica. From this standpoint, Japan stresses that the balance of rights and obliga-
tions in the Antarctic Treaty should not be affected in any way in handling the informa-
tion on the limits of the continental shelf, submitted by Australia to the Commission”
(19 January 2005, SC/05/039). Germany: “Germany confirms the importance of keep-
ing harmony between the Antarctic Treaty and the United Nations Convention on the
Law of the Sea and thereby insuring the continuing peaceful cooperation, security and
stability in the Antarctic area. Recalling Article IV of the Antarctic Treaty, Germany
does not recognize any State’s claim to territory in Antarctica and does not recognize
that a State’s claim to territorial sovereignty in Antarctica is capable of creating any
rights over the seabed and subsoil of the submarine areas beyond and adjacent to the
Continent of Antarctica” (5 April 2005, Note 88/2005). Netherlands: “Taking note that
the submission of Australia includes information relating to continental shelf adjacent
to Antarctica, the Netherlands wishes to reiterate its long-standing position that the
Netherlands does not recognize any claim to territories in Antarctica and does not
recognize that a claim to territorial sovereignty in Antarctica is capable of creating any
sort of rights over continental shelf adjacent to Antarctica. It is well-established that the
principle of sovereign rights over continental shelf adjacent to the coast, for the pur-
poses of exploring and exploiting the natural resources of the shelf, derives from sov-
ereignty of the coastal State over adjacent land territory. Accordingly, the Netherlands
does not consider that the continental shelf adjacent to Antarctica is subject to the
sovereign rights of any State” (31 March 2005, No. NYV/2005/690). India: “India,
while referring to Article IV of the Antarctic Treaty, wishes to inform that it does
not recognise any State’s right or claims to territorial sovereignty in the Antarctic area,
and consequently does not recognise any State’s right or claims to the water, seabed and
subsoil of the submarine areas adjacent to the continent of Antarctica” (5 July 2005,
NY/PM443/1/98).
42
Reflecting on the fundamental importance of Article IV of the Antarctic Treaty,
Sir Arthur Watts (note 32), at 135, warned “What Article IV does is to provide a legal
 the commission on the limits of the continental shelf989

to be preserved and protected thus keeping harmony between the

Antarctic Treaty and the Convention on the Law of the Sea and thereby
ensuring peaceful cooperation, security and stability in the continent
of Antarctica. The equilibrium between the rights and interests of
claimant States and those of non-claimant States seems to have been
maintained–at least pro tempore.

K. Some Observations in Conclusion

The Commission has been created to determine the international legal-

ity of the establishment by coastal States of the outer limits of the con-
tinental shelf where those limits extend beyond 200 nautical miles
from the baselines from which the breadth of the territorial sea is
measured. It is a treaty-based body which has been designed to serve
the interests of the entire international community.
The Commission has drafted rules of procedure which seek to
avoid maritime and land boundary disputes or at least not exacerbate
such disputes. In this respect the mechanism devised by the so-called
claimant States to deal with the “territorial questions” in Antarctica
is noteworthy. Perhaps the most challenging issue facing the Commis­
sion concerns its role in the interpretation and application of the rele-
vant provisions of the Convention. The principal function of the
Commission is to apply scientific and technical criteria in reviewing
the data and information submitted by States. Nevertheless, as we have
seen, there are cases where it is difficult to make a clear distinction
between purely legal issues and scientific and technical ones and herein
lies the problem.
The work of the Commission remains highly important, given its
role in demarcating maritime areas under national jurisdiction and
seabed areas beyond national jurisdiction which form part of the com-
mon heritage of mankind.

framework within which conflicts arising out of these continuing differences of legal
view can be avoided: […] But take away Article IV–for example, allow the Antarctic
Treaty to collapse–and sovereignty rights and claims, and opposition to them, would
instantly return to the forefront of the Antarctic agenda.”
 Textual Interpretation of Article 121 in the
UN Convention on the Law of the Sea

Myron H. Nordquist

Abstract

This paper provides a textual interpretation of Article 121 in the 1982

UN Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS or Convention). The
study is divided into three principal substantive parts. The first outlines
the background and context in which the text was drafted at the Third
United Nations Conference on the Law of the Sea (Third Conference or
Conference). The second main part analyzes the ordinary meaning of
the specific words used in the text of Article 121. The third part of this
study is a review of supplementary treaty interpretation sources helpful
in ascertaining the meaning of ambiguous language found in para-
graph 3 of Article 121.

A. Introduction

The Third Conference was formally held from 1973 to 1982. Many
observers have noted that the negotiations for this Conference were
not only lengthy but also highly complex with many unique negotiat-
ing processes. The goal set and achieved in the 1982 Convention was to
reach agreement on a comprehensive legal regime governing over 70%
of the earth’s surface. The resulting Convention contains 320 articles
plus 9 Annexes of treaty text. The Convention’s original provisions on
the deep seabed mining regime proved not to be generally acceptable
to the international community, especially to industrialized States, and
the objectionable text was modified through an innovative procedural
process in 1994 just prior to the Convention’s entry into force. By 2011,
there were 161 Parties to the Convention, including the European
Union. With near universal acceptance, the provisions in the
Convention are generally regarded either as customary international
law or as persuasive evidence of customary international law. The
importance of this point is that conventional law is legally binding
only with the express agreement of sovereign States while customary
992 myron h. nordquist

international law is enforceable against all States, whether or not Parties

to the particular agreement.
The Convention has 17 Parts, many of which contain extensive text,
but Part VIII consists of only a single article under the heading “Regime
of Islands”. Part VIII does not deal with artificial islands or installations
(for this, see Convention Arts. 60, 80 and 147), groups of islands (see
Part IV concerning the archipelagic regime), or territories under for-
eign occupation or colonial dependence (see Final Act, Annex I,
Resolution III). Moreover, Part VIII, or indeed UNCLOS as a whole,
does not deal with disputes over territorial sovereignty or delve into
any specific maritime delimitation cases. UNCLOS does provide that
to qualify as an island under Article 121, the territory must be naturally
formed and be surrounded by water at high tide. With these qualifica-
tions, islands are entitled under UNCLOS to the same maritime zones
as other land territory. The principles pertaining to islands proper
embodied in UNCLOS are widely recognized in customary interna-
tional law and in State Practice. Article 121 (3) of UNCLOS, however,
contains a novel exception not rooted in customary international law.
The third paragraph of Article 121 reads: “Rocks which cannot sustain
human habitation or economic life of their own shall have no exclusive
economic zone or continental shelf.” An effort to clarify the elusive
meaning of this paragraph is given detailed attention in the third main
part of this study.
The first noteworthy source of international law dealing with the
regime of islands topic was in a draft text prepared for the 1930
Conference for the Codification of International Law.1 The 1930 draft

1
See M. Nordquist/S. Nandan/S. Rosenne (eds.), United Nations Convention on
the Law of the Sea 1982: A Commentary, Vol. III, at 321, fn. 2 (1995). This seven vol-
ume series (Virginia Commentary) provides the official sources for text and traces the
negotiating history of each article in the 1982 Convention. The Virginia Commentary
was a project conceived and executed at the Center for Oceans Law and Policy,
University of Virginia School of Law starting in 1982 and is almost complete in that an
Index for the entire series is set for publication in the final Volume VII during 2011.
More than 100 scholars/diplomats from throughout the world contributed to the vol-
umes. Many contributors represented their governments in the negotiations at the
Third United Nations Conference on the Law of the Sea. Part of the authoritative value
of the project is that records were not kept of the numerous informal working group
meetings at the Third Conference. While the contributors to the Virginia Commentary
concentrated on making objective comments drawn from primary sources, they did
occasionally offer conjecture or general observations not in the record when the edi-
tors and reviewers were confident, based on their personal participation in the negotia-
tions, that the thoughts were justified by actual events.
 textual interpretation of article 121993

text read: “Every island has its own territorial sea. An island is an area
of land, surrounded by water, which is permanently above high-water
mark.”2 The “observation” made about the draft text was that the term
“island” did not exclude artificial islands, providing they were true por-
tions of the territory and not merely floating works or the like. The next
source worth noting is found in the International Law Commission’s
(ILC) draft articles on the law of the sea, issued in 1956, which included
text on islands which read: “Every island has its own territorial sea.
An island is an area of land, surrounded by water, which in normal
circumstances is permanently above high-water mark.”3 The ILC com-
ment was that low-tide elevations and technical installations built on
the seabed were not considered islands.
The First Conference on the Law of the Sea held in 1958 produced a
modified version of the 1956 ILC draft text. Article 10 of the 1958
Convention on the Territorial Sea and the Contiguous Zone read: “An
island is a naturally-formed area of land, surrounded by water, which is
above water at high-tide. The territorial sea of an island is measured in
accordance with the provisions of these articles.”4
The 1958 Convention on the Continental Shelf also contains the
term “island” in its definitional article. Article 1 (b) plainly provides
that the legal continental shelf extends “to the seabed and subsoil of
similar submarine areas adjacent to the coasts of islands.”5 While not
defined in the Continental Shelf Convention, the term “island” would
be read as used in the contemporaneously negotiated Territorial Sea
and Contiguous Zone Convention.
A proper understanding of the meaning of the Article 121 text
requires an appreciation of the unique negotiating context in which the
article was drafted at the Third Conference. Almost all negotiations rel-
evant to this study were conducted in informal working groups where
no official UN records were kept. The author was present for many
such negotiations at the Conference, however, and for that reason
believes that the reader should be made aware of this background.
Personal recollections based on any individual’s experiences at the
Third Conference must be taken as “informed conjecture”. The reader

2
Id., at 479.
3
Id., at 326, fn. 1.
4
Id., at 327.
5
 Convention on the Continental Shelf, 29 April 1958, UNTS Vol. 499 No. 7302, 15
UST 471, TIAS 5578.
994 myron h. nordquist

is therefore advised to judge the author’s opinions in this study with

notice of the background that shapes his perspectives. In line with that
admonition, a brief summary is offered of the author’s experience with
the negotiations at the Third Conference in general, and with respect to
the Article 121 negotiations in particular.
The author followed the law of the sea negotiations starting in 1970
when as a young lawyer he was assigned to the newly formed Ocean
Affairs section in the Office of Legal Adviser, United States Department
of State. He was present at United Nations Headquarters in December
of that year when the General Assembly (GA) passed a Principles
Resolution that declared the seabed area beyond national jurisdiction
was the Common Heritage of Mankind. At the same time, the GA
political committee tasked a newly constituted seabed committee to
serve as a preparatory committee for the Third Conference, essentially
to perform the same drafting function that the ILC provided for the
First and Second Law of the Sea Conferences. The GA decision started
a 14 year negotiating process that resulted in the 1982 Convention on
the Law of the Sea. The author was the Secretary of the US Delegation
to the Conference at the time the text of Article 121 was drafted in 1974
and 1975. Moreover, he was specifically assigned to follow, on a daily
basis, the negotiations in the Second Committee at the Conference
where he attended several informal meetings when the regime of
islands issues was discussed. To be candid, it must be stated that there
were numerous other competing negotiations underway and the status
of islands was not the most important or controversial issue being fol-
lowed by US delegation members, including the author. Still, the US
delegation was the only one large enough (about 150 total accredited
members to Second Session in 1974) to send representatives to every
meeting to which we were invited. One of the duties of the author rel-
evant to this study was to report to authorities in Washington, DC on
the events that had just transpired during the negotiations. As Secretary
of Delegation he also played a role in preparing the daily delegation
reports sent to Washington, DC as well as helping to write the
Delegation Report submitted to the US Government at the end of each
session.
The regime of islands and related entitlement to maritime zones or
to their ascribed weight in offshore delimitation was as challenging to
resolve as any set of problems at the Third Conference. Delegations put
forth a plethora of oral and written formal and informal proposals on
the issues involved in a concerted effort to bridge differences. Emotions
 textual interpretation of article 121995

sometimes ran high as the island issues were vital to certain countries.
For instance, the representatives of Greece and Turkey intervened
frequently (almost at every opportunity) expressing competing sides
of this topic. For some States such as Venezuela and Iran, the regime
of islands text raised sensitive nationalistic questions of territorial
sovereignty that persist until today. In fact although there are 161 State
Parties to the LOS Convention, Turkey, Venezuela and Iran have
yet to accede in large part because of dissatisfaction with the way
Article 121 is written. The United States is also not a Party to UNCLOS
but that is a long and complicated story well beyond the scope of this
study.

B. Background and Context

I. First Conference
The First UN Conference on the Law of the Sea met in Geneva from 24
February to 27 April 1958 with eighty-six States represented. The
Conference decided to establish five main committees to deal with its
agenda: First Committee (territorial sea and contiguous zone); Second
Committee (high seas: general regime); Third Committee (high seas:
fishing and conservation of living resources); Fourth Committee (con-
tinental shelf); and Fifth Committee (question of free access to the sea
of land-locked countries). The General Assembly had referred the ILC’s
final report on the law of the sea to the First Conference containing 73
draft articles that had resulted from the Commission’s seven years of
preparatory work. The First Conference also had more than thirty pre-
paratory documents prepared by experts that primarily consisted of
specialized studies on particular issues.
At the conclusion of the deliberations, the five main committees
each submitted a report to the plenary of the Conference that summa-
rized the results of their work, including the draft articles that had been
approved at the committee level by majority vote. By a two-thirds vote,
the plenary of the Conference then adopted draft articles, some in
amended form, which resulted in four conventions: the Convention on
the Territorial Sea and the Contiguous Zone;6 the Convention on the

6
 Convention on the Territorial Sea and the Contiguous Zone, 29 April 1958, UNTS
Vol. 516 No. 7477, 15 UST 1606, TIAS 5639.
996 myron h. nordquist

High Seas;7 the Convention on Fishing and Conservation of the Living

Resources of the High Seas;8 and the Convention on the Continental
Shelf.9 The land-locked States’ issues in the Fifth Committee were not
embodied in a separate convention but were incorporated in Article 14
of the Convention on the Territorial Sea and the Contiguous Zone and
in Arts. 2, 3, and 4 of the Convention on the High Seas.
In addition to the four Conventions, an Optional Protocol of
Signature Concerning the Compulsory Settlement of Disputes and
nine resolutions were adopted on various subjects, including the issue
of convening a second UN Conference on the Law of the Sea.10 The
Final Act of the Conference was signed on 29 April 1958.
On 30 September 1962, the Convention on the High Seas and the
Optional Protocol entered into force. The Convention on the
Continental Shelf came into force on 10 June 1964; the Convention on
the Territorial Sea and the Contiguous Zone on 10 September 1965;
and the Convention on Fishing and Conservation of the Living
Resources of the High Seas on 20 March 1966.

II. Second Conference

On 10 December 1958, the General Assembly passed Resolution 1307
(XIII) requesting the Secretary General to convene a second UN
Conference on the Law of the Sea. As in prior codification efforts, the
First Conference had been unable to reach agreement on the breadth of
the territorial sea and the extent of fisheries jurisdiction. Eighty-two
States (four fewer than in 1958) attended the Second Conference that
was convened expressly to settle these two outstanding issues. The
Second Conference met in Geneva from 16 March to 26 April 1960 but
again failed to reach any substantive agreement on either a uniform
breadth for the territorial sea or on fisheries jurisdiction.

III. Assessment of First and Second Conferences

In spite of the failure of the Second Conference, the Geneva Conventions
from the First Conference in 1958 were landmarks in the progressive

    7
 Convention on the High Seas, 29 April 1958, UNTS Vol. 450 No. 6465, 13 UST
2312, TIAS 5200.
    8
 Convention on Fishing and Conservation of the Living Resources of the High
Seas, 29 April 1958, UNTS Vol. 559 No. 8164, 17 UST 138, TIAS 5969.
    9
See supra note 5.
10
I UNCLOS Vol. II, at 143–145.
 textual interpretation of article 121997

codification of international law. Moreover, many of the provisions

were expressions of existing customary international law, particularly
those in the Convention on the High Seas. Important innovations were
embodied in the Convention on the Continental Shelf, while the terri-
torial sea articles were a mixture of well-established and emerging
rules. The fisheries articles were easily the least well-received of the
four Conventions, although the Optional Protocol on dispute settle-
ment was nearly as weak on substance as well as on acceptance by the
international community.
As would be the case at the Third Conference, the outer limit of
coastal State jurisdiction over the territorial sea, fisheries and conti-
nental shelf and the delimitation of boundaries between adjacent and
opposite States were most troublesome issues. These problems
increased in economic significance as advances in technology allowed
offshore petroleum development in deeper waters and distant water
fishing on a global scale. Indeed, the gross under-estimation of the
rapid advances in marine technology by the First and Second
Conferences coupled with the rising political and economic aspirations
of numerous newly independent coastal States were probably the two
most instrumental factors in precipitating the convening of the Third
UN Conference.

IV. UN Activity, 1967–1969

In November, 1967, Arvid Pardo of Malta spoke at length in the UN
General Assembly on the importance of the oceans to the future of
mankind and on the need for modernization of the legal regime for
ocean space. He also introduced a draft resolution to exclude the sea-
bed beyond national jurisdiction from national appropriation and to
establish an international agency to control all seabed activities therein.
The financial benefits derived from the exploitation of the deep seabed
resources were to be used primarily to aid the poorer countries of the
world.
Pardo’s ideas won immediate appeal with most developing nations.
Consequently, the General Assembly established an Ad Hoc Committee
of thirty-five members to study UN Activities in the seabed area beyond
national jurisdiction and to recommend means to promote coopera-
tion in the use of its resources.11

11
GA Res. 2340 of 18 December 1967.
998 myron h. nordquist

After three sessions of discussions ranging over approximately two

months, the controversial nature of the subject matter was evident and
the Ad Hoc Committee informed the General Assembly that further
study was needed.12 A harbinger of the future for the Third Conference
was seen in that the Ad Hoc Committee conducted its work on the basis
of consensus among its members, although no formal decision was
taken to that effect.
In December, 1968, the General Assembly adopted a resolution to
create a standing, forty-two member Committee on the Peaceful Uses
of the Sea-Bed and Ocean Floor beyond the Limits of National
Jurisdiction (Seabed Committee).13 The Chairman of the Ad Hoc
Committee was Hamilton Shirley Amerasinghe, who later was elected
President of the Third Law of the Sea Conference. The Seabed Com­
mittee was to study the deep seabed problem and to submit a report to
the General Assembly the following year. The Committee held three
sessions at UN Headquarters in 1969 for a total of eleven meetings.
Continuing the Ad Hoc Committee’s organizational framework, the
Legal Sub-Committee held twenty-nine meetings and the Economic
and Technical Sub-Committee, twenty-five meetings. The Seabed
Committee dealt primarily with the legal principles governing the deep
seabed and the applicable international machinery. After considering
the Committee’s Report, the General Assembly requested the Secretary
General to ascertain the views of member States on the desirability of
convening, at an early date, a Conference on the Law of the Sea.14
The “package deal” aspect of negotiations at a comprehensive con-
ference was seen early as illustrated in the preamble of the 1969
Resolution which read, inter alia:
Having regard for the fact that the problems relating to the high seas, ter-
ritorial waters, contiguous zones, the continental shelf, the super-jacent
waters, and the sea-bed and ocean floor beyond the limits of national
jurisdiction are closely linked together […]15
Resolution 2574B tasked the Committee to expedite the preparation
of draft principles governing the deep seabed and to submit a draft

12
See Report of the Ad Hoc Committee, UN GAOR 23rd Sess., UN Doc. A/7230
(1968).
13
GA Res. 2467A of 21 December 1968.
14
See Report of the Committee, UN GAOR 24th. Sess., Supp. 22, UN Doc. A/7622
(1969). The Ad Hoc Working Groups were simply converted into Sub-Committees.
15
GA Res. 2574A of 15 December 1969.
 textual interpretation of article 121999

declaration in 1970. Resolution 2574C requested an international

machinery study and was non-controversial. In contrast, Resolution
2574D caused a political furor in UN circles by calling for a morato-
rium on deep seabed exploitation activities prior to the establishment
of an international regime. The operative language of the Moratorium
Resolution declared:
(a) States and persons, physical or juridical, are bound to refrain from
all activities of exploitation of the resources of the area of the sea-
bed and ocean floor, and the subsoil thereof, beyond the limits of
national jurisdiction;
(b) No claim to any part of that area or its resources shall be recog-
nized.
The Moratorium Resolution was adopted by 62 votes to 28, with 28
abstentions. The voting pitted numerically superior developing coun-
tries in the United Nations against economically advanced developed
States and clearly identified one of the most controversial issues for the
upcoming negotiations at the Conference.

V. Principles and Conference Resolutions

During 1970, the Committee worked intensively to prepare a draft dec-
laration of principles for the deep seabed. While the Committee was
unable to agree on a draft text in the time available, both the formal and
informal consultations contributed substantially to an emerging con-
sensus on draft language. The Committee reported to the twenty-fifth
session of the General Assembly that progress over the prior two years
had been slower than it had hoped. Nonetheless, the progress was
viewed as sufficient to maintain confidence in the emergence of a gen-
eral agreement on an international regime in a future treaty. Such opti-
mism proved characteristic of the formal UN pronouncements about
the Third Conference and its progress in drafting agreed treaty text.
The twenty-fifth session of the General Assembly in 1970 set several
landmarks for the Third Conference. By Resolution 2749, the General
Assembly adopted by 108 votes to none, with 14 abstentions, a
Declaration of Principles Governing the Seabed and the Ocean Floor,
and the Subsoil Thereof, beyond the Limits of National Jurisdiction.16
In the Principles Resolution, the General Assembly declared the deep

16
GA Res. 2749 of 17 December 1970.
1000 myron h. nordquist

seabed area and its resources were the common heritage of mankind.
The area was not to be appropriated and no rights were to be acquired
with “respect to the area or its resources incompatible with the interna-
tional regime to be established and the principles of this Declaration”.
The Declaration called for the establishment of an international regime
and machinery through “an international treaty of a character, gener-
ally agreed upon”.
Resolution 2750C noted that the responses from States indicated
widespread support for holding a comprehensive conference on the
law of the sea. The Assembly also observed that the problems of ocean
space were closely inter-related and that technological advances had
accentuated the need for early and progressive development of the law
of the sea. Paragraph 2 of the Conference Resolution read:
Decides to convene in 1973, […] a conference on the law of the sea which
would deal with the establishment of an equitable international regime–
including an international machinery–for the area and the resources of
the sea-bed and the ocean floor, and the subsoil thereof, beyond the lim-
its of national jurisdiction, a precise definition of the area, and a broad
range of related issues including those concerning the regimes of the
high seas, the continental shelf, the territorial sea (including the question
of its breadth and the question of international straits) and contiguous
zone, fishing and conservation of the living resources of the high seas
(including the question of the preferential rights of coastal States), the
preservation of the marine environment (including, inter alia, the pre-
vention of pollution) and scientific research; […].
The Resolution enlarged the Committee by forty-four members, and
instructed it to hold two preparatory sessions in 1971. The Committee
was to prepare a comprehensive list of subjects and issues as well as
draft articles on such subjects and issues.17 The Committee was to
report to the General Assembly on the progress of its preparatory work
to determine the precise agenda for the conference, its definitive date,
location and duration, and related arrangements.

VI. Preparatory Sessions, 1971–1973

The first and second preparatory sessions of the Committee were held
in the Spring and Summer of 1971. The Committee formed three Sub-
Committees of the whole, and allocated subjects and functions to them.

17
GA Res. 2750C of 17 December 1970, para. 6.
 textual interpretation of article 1211001

Sub-Committee I was to draft treaty articles on the deep seabed regime,

Sub-Committee II was to prepare a comprehensive list of subjects and
issues and draft treaty articles on the traditional law of the sea topics
and Sub-Committee III was to draft treaty articles on the marine envi-
ronment and scientific research. Twenty-five Bureau members were
elected to the Main Committee and the three Sub-Committees after an
allocation of positions based on the “principles of equitable geographi-
cal distribution”.18
The Committee held a general debate during 1971 and received a
series of working papers, draft conventions and draft treaty articles.
The report of the Committee for 1971 consisted of sections dealing
with the subjects and the issues allocated to each of the three Sub-
Committees. A considerable amount of time was given at this stage to
examining the relationship between the 1958 Geneva Conventions to
which many States were party and the anticipated results of the Third
Conference. The general debates at the first and second preparatory
sessions mainly demonstrated that the law of the sea was an extraordi-
narily complex subject upon which almost every State held different
views.
On 21 December 1971, the General Assembly increased the
Committee to 91 member countries, noted the “encouraging progress”,
and authorized the holding of the third and fourth preparatory meet-
ings in New York and Geneva, respectively, in 1972.19 A pattern of work
emerged in the Committee’s deliberations: general debate followed by
working group attempts to reconcile and consolidate the documents
submitted by delegates into draft articles. The workload was over-
whelming and many delegates were themselves confused by the sub-
ject’s complexity. While the scope of common understanding was
limited, it was not for want of trying; in fact some 469 formal and
countless informal preparatory meetings were held over 1971, 1972,
and 1973.
The Committee had continued to labor in 1972 pursuant to the
agreed plan of work. Its most noteworthy achievement was the formal
adoption of a comprehensive list of subjects and issues.20 The list was to

18
See Report of the Committee, UN GAOR 26th. Sess., Supp., UN Doc. A/8412
(1971), at 6–7.
19
GA Res. 2881 of 21 December 1971.
20
 UN Doc. A/8721 (1972), Supp. 21, at 5–8. The List was adopted by the Committee
on 16 August 1972.
1002 myron h. nordquist

be the de facto agenda for the Third Conference and consequently its
formulation was highly controversial.
The General Assembly reaffirmed the mandate of the Seabed
Committee at the end of 1972, despite noting only “further progress.”21
In reality, wide differences of opinion on virtually every substantive
issue had emerged. Nevertheless, the Committee was requested by the
General Assembly to hold two further sessions in 1973, the fifth and
sixth preparatory sessions, with a view to completing its work. A report
and recommendations were to be submitted to the General Assembly
at its 28th Session in 1973. Resolution 3029-A also requested the
Secretary General to convene the first session of the Third Law of the
Sea Conference for a period of two weeks in November-December,
l973, to deal with organizational matters. A second session of the
Conference to deal with substantive work was to be held at Santiago,
Chile, for eight weeks in April-May, 1974.22 The General Assembly was
to review the progress of the preparatory work at its twenty-eighth ses-
sion in 1973 and, if necessary, take measures to facilitate the comple-
tion of the substantive work of the Conference.
The Committee held two more preparatory sessions in 1973, the first
in New York, from 5 March to 6 April, and the second in Geneva, from
2 July to 24 August. Early in its first session, the Committee affirmed
that the Sub-Committees should retain the same terms of reference.
Indeed, most of the work accomplished in 1973 was done by the
Sub-Committees.
The regime of islands issue was dealt with almost exclusively in Sub-
Committee II. Accordingly, a specific focus on the activities of that
Sub-Committee during the six preparatory sessions leading up to the
start of the Conference will assist in understanding the evolution and
emergence of the text of what became Article 121.

VII. Sub-Committee II Preparatory Work

Being a Sub-Committee of the whole, Sub-Committee II was com-
posed of all the State members at the Conference. In March, 1971,
officers were elected and Reynaldo Galindo Pohl of El Salvador was
elected Chairman. Twenty-three meetings were held in Geneva in

21
GA Res. 3029 of 18 December 1972.
22
The optimistic expectation that the Conference might conclude in 1974 was in the
Preamble.
 textual interpretation of article 1211003

March and July-August, 1971 and preparations were started on a com-

prehensive list of subjects and issues relating to the law of the sea.
Progress was slower than anticipated and on 23 August, an eleven-
nation Working Group was formed to facilitate negotiations. Draft
treaty articles on some of the issues allocated to the Sub-Committee
were submitted and comments on those proposals were made in a gen-
eral debate. The debate centered on topics referred to in General
Assembly Resolution 2750 (XXV), namely:
[…] the regimes of the high seas, the continental shelf, the territorial sea
(including the question of international straits) and contiguous zone,
fishing and conservation of the living resources of the high seas (includ-
ing the question of the preferential rights of coastal States) and other
related matters.23
No specific mention was made of the regime of islands issue, which was
not seen at the time as a separate, major issue. The lengthy general
debate in the 1971 sessions on the identified major topics was consid-
ered an indispensable step in the completion of the tasks assigned to
Sub-Committee II.24
During 1972, Sub-Committee II held two series of meetings: the first
in New York during the month of March and the second in Geneva
from 17 July–17 August. Twenty-four formal meetings were convened
to consider the questions referred by the General Assembly while a
series of informal meetings took place on the preparation of the list of
subjects and issues. At the last meeting of Sub-Committee II in 1972,
the list was finally adopted by consensus.25 Several additional draft arti-
cles on fisheries, straits and an exclusive economic zone were intro-
duced in 1972 but time permitted only a preliminary exchange of views
on these drafts.
Two series of Sub-Committee II meetings were held in 1973: in New
York from 6 March–5 April and in Geneva from 3 July–23 August.
These consisted of fifteen meetings in the Spring session and seventeen
meetings in the Summer session. On 12 March 1973, a consensus on
Sub-Committee mandates was reached and Sub-Committee II was to
deal with all subjects and issues not otherwise allocated. In addition,
any Sub-Committee could consider relevant items even if allocated to
the Main Committee or another Sub-Committee.

23
 UN Doc. 8412, Supp. 21, paras. 104–110.
24
Id., para. 111.
25
See supra note 20, para. 23.
1004 myron h. nordquist

Little progress was made in Committee II toward drawing up draft

articles. To help focus on specific texts, a Working Group of the Whole
decided to prepare a comparative table and consolidated text of the
proposals submitted, and to present “variants” which might form
the basis for draft articles. One result of the variant exercise was to
stimulate the submission of a number of proposals in 1973. Many del-
egations wanted to ensure that their nation’s position was included in
one of the variants which were organized under the appropriate head-
ing of the list of subjects and issues.
A working group in Sub-Committee I had attempted to prepare a
comparative text of areas of agreement and disagreement, but the Sub-
Committee II Working Group did not have sufficient time to do like-
wise. Given the obvious differences of opinion among States on
fundamental issues, the Seabed Committee did not include recom-
mendations in its report to the twenty-eighth General Assembly. In
turn, after assessing the final report of the Committee, the General
Assembly concluded that the Committee had accomplished, “as far as
possible, within the limits of its mandate, the work which the General
Assembly entrusted to it for the preparation of the Third United
Nations Conference on the Law of the Sea.”26 Accordingly the General
Assembly decided to inaugurate the Conference immediately with an
organizational session at UN Headquarters in New York between 3
and 14 December 1973. The mandate of the Conference was “to adopt
a Convention dealing with all matters relating to the law of the sea.”27
The second session of the Conference was to meet in Caracas,
Venezuela, rather than Santiago, Chile, from 20 June through 20 August
1974. GA Resolution 3067 also asked the Secretary General to prepare
draft rules of procedure for the Conference and, lastly, dissolved the
Seabed Committee.28

26
GA Res. 3067 of 16 November 1973.
27
Id., para. 3.
28
 On 16 November 1973, the General Assembly approved a “gentleman’s agree-
ment” on voting at the Conference. The essence of this procedural agreement was that
all efforts at reaching consensus would be exhausted before formal voting would take
place at the Conference. This was another unique technique employed at the Third
Conference to pressure delegations not to incite disagreement and impede progress.
The procedure was intended to more or less honor consensus while moving toward a
truly universal convention. The “gentleman’s agreement” held until the very end of the
Conference in 1982 when the United States insisted on voting to record its objections
to the deep sea-bed text in Part XI.
 textual interpretation of article 1211005

VIII. First Session, 1973

The first official act of the Third Conference was to elect H. S.
Amerasinghe of Sri Lanka as its President.29 Amerasinghe had served
ably as the Chairman of the Seabed Committee and was widely
respected by all regional groups. Thirty-one Vice Presidents were also
elected and Kenneth Rattray of Jamaica was selected as Rapporteur
General. Andres Aguilar from Venezuela was elected Chairman of
Committee II while Satya N. Nandan of Fiji was made its Rapporteur.
Both Aguilar and Nandan were to play major leadership roles at the
Conference, including key roles on the regime of islands issues.
Chairmen were also elected for Committee I, Committee III, the
Drafting Committee and the Credentials Committee. The President of
the Conference would preside over the General Committee.
In addition to the election of officers and approval of organizational
structure, the Conference considered the draft rules of procedure pre-
pared by the Secretary General30 together with amendments submitted
by several delegations.31 Not able to reach a consensus, the Conference
decided to postpone adoption of the rules of procedure until the sec-
ond session, thereby allowing time for informal, inter-sessional
consultations.

IX. Second Session, 1974

The second session of the Conference opened with great fanfare on 20
June 1974 in Caracas with 138 States sending representatives. From 21
June to 27 June, the Conference considered its rules of procedure,
adopting them on the exact deadline date set at the first session.32 The
Conference allocated subjects and issues to the Plenary and the three
Main Committees largely along the lines of the work breakdown that
had evolved in the Seabed Committee.
During the first six weeks of the Conference, 115 delegations
and over a dozen representatives of intergovernmental organizations,
specialized agencies and non-governmental organizations spoke.
Most delivered general statements in the Plenary of the Conference

29
III UNCLOS Vol. I, at 4, para. 3.
30
 UN Doc. A/CONF.62/2 and Add. 1–3, incorporated in UN Doc. A/CONF.62/1,
III UNCLOS Vol. III, at 67–80.
31
 UN Doc. A/CONF.62/29, III UNCLOS Vol. III, at 59–61.
32
III UNCLOS Vol. I, at 58, para. 85.
1006 myron h. nordquist

providing for the first time an overview of their positions on the law of
the sea. It is worth recalling that the goal of the Conference was to
adopt a comprehensive convention covering traditional law of the sea
issues as well as a new regime for the international seabed area, marine
pollution, scientific research and dispute settlement. The Conference
had been preceded by six preparatory sessions over three years and
hundreds of draft proposals were before it. Thus, it was not surprising
that at the end of an exhaustive ten weeks of intensive negotiations in
Caracas, the Conference found it necessary to request the General
Assembly to schedule a third session at Geneva in 1975.
The organization of work in the Second Committee at Caracas was
described by Chairman Aguilar at the 1st Meeting held on 3 July 1974
as follows:
[…] the items assigned to the Committee should be considered one by
one in the order in which they appeared in the list. The ideas was to con-
sider each of the items, to identify the principle [sic] trends and reduce
them to generally acceptable formulae, and then to “put them on ice” so
to speak, without any decision.33
Upon completing the first stage of its work, the Second Committee
undertook a second reading of the draft proposals in an attempt to
reduce the number of alternative formulations in the working papers.
The goal was to consolidate texts and reduce the number of variants.
During the 1974 Caracas session of the Conference, the Second
Committee held 46 formal meetings and 23 informal meetings. In a
genuine effort to pressure delegates to compromise, debate was limited.
For example, delegations who were not participants in the Seabed
Committee or who wished to change their position were encouraged to
state their positions. Those delegations whose positions had already
been proposed were requested not to repeat what had already been
stated. The procedure was largely effective although some delegations
still felt compelled to restate positions considered vital. This especially
arose when restatement was deemed necessary to counter a statement
just made of opposing views. The document produced by the Second
Committee at the end of the Caracas Session in 1975 was a series of 13
informal working papers which were represented as reflecting gener-
ally accepted formulations of the “main trends” contained in the pro-
posals before the Committee.

33
III UNCLOS Vol. II, at 95.
 textual interpretation of article 1211007

At the final formal meeting in Caracas, the Second Committee lead-

ers released a consolidation of the 13 informal papers as a single work-
ing document (Main Trends Document), which would form the basis
for the Committee’s future work.34 The Rapporteur for the Second
Committee, Nandan, commented:
In systematically considering the items allocated to it and preparing a
series of informal working papers reflecting in generally acceptable for-
mulations the main trends on each item, the Committee completed an
essential phase of its work. The completion of this phase represents sig-
nificant progress in the work of the Committee, bearing in mind the
incomplete nature of the preparatory work on the items before the
Committee.35
The President of the Conference was also upbeat about the results of
the Caracas session for a curiously different reason:
There has so far been no agreement on any final text or on any single
subject or issue, despite the lengthy deliberations in the Seabed
Committee that formed the prelude to our discussions in the Conference
itself. We can, however, derive some legislative satisfaction from the
thought that most of the issues or most of the key issues have been identi-
fied and exhaustively discussed and the extent and depth of divergence
and disagreement on them have become manifest.36

X. Geneva Session, 1975

The third session of the Conference met in Geneva from 17 March–9
May 1975. This session of the Conference was the most historically
important from the point of view of interpreting the text of Article 121.
For the Second Committee as a whole, the 1975 Geneva session
was easily the most productive in terms of generating actual text in
the Convention. The reason was that each Chairman of the three
Committees drafted a single negotiating text (SNT) on the subjects and
issues within his Committee’s mandate. The SNT was issued at the
end of the third session in Geneva.37 In addition, the chairman of the

34
 UN Doc. A/CONF.62/L.8/Rev.1, Annex II, Appendix 1, III UNCLOS Vol. II, at
107–146.
35
III UNCLOS Vol. III, at 106, para. 19.
36
 United Nations, Office of Public Information, Press Release SEA/150, 30 August
1974. On 14 December 1974 the General Assembly adopted Resolution 3334 that
authorized the third session of the Conference in Geneva and designated Caracas as
the site for the signing of the final convention.
37
 UN Doc. A/CONF.62/WP.8. See supra note 34, at 137.
1008 myron h. nordquist

dispute settlement group submitted a text to the President of the

Conference. The SNTs were portrayed to the delegates as simply an
informal procedural device to provide a basis for negotiation and no
nation’s position was to be prejudiced by the document. In fact, how-
ever, with respect to the Article 121 text under examination in this
study, the SNT text as drafted in 1975 was decisive.
During two formal meetings and fourteen informal meetings during
the third session, a second reading of the Main Trends Document was
completed with a view toward reducing the excessive number of “vari-
ants.”38 This work entailed a provision by provision review of the Main
Trends Document. Even for this, there was insufficient time in 1975 for
a second review on the last item, Item 19–The Regime of Islands. This
was actually not important, however, for the real negotiations occurred
in a series of small, informal consultative groups focused on particular
issues. In the middle of the 1975 session, on 4 April, the Committee
had decided to establish informal working groups, including one on
islands. The numerous working groups had a huge agenda as can be
seen by having to deal with the following subjects: baselines, historic
bays and historic waters, contiguous zone, innocent passage, high seas,
question of transit (land-locked States), continental shelf, exclusive
economic zone, straits, enclosed and semi-enclosed seas, islands, and
delimitation.
Two informal working group meetings on islands and delimitation
took place to consider “relevant substantive issues.”39 Thereafter, pursu-
ant to a Committee decision on 18 April 1975, the Chairman had issued
the informal single negotiating text (SNT). The Chairman stated that in
preparing the SNT he had taken into account the documents before the
Conference and the views expressed during the official and unofficial
consultations held during the third session.40
It is unfortunate for those seeking to interpret the text of Article 121
that no official records exist of any of the discussions during the infor-
mal consultations that played such a vital role in the formulation of
the exact language that was drafted for the regime of islands text in the
SNT. As a consequence, the interpreter’s only choice is to analyze the
text as it exists and to construe the language as written. There are not
only no official records to consult about what transpired in the infor-
mal working group consultations but also there are no commentaries

38
See supra note 33.
39
III UNCLOS Vol. IV, at 196, para. 17.
40
Id., at 153.
 textual interpretation of article 1211009

such as the ones provided by the ILC for the draft texts presented to the
First and Second Conferences. The misfortune is compounded in the
case of Article 121 since the text as drafted in the SNT was unchanged
in substance from that written in 1975 to its final form in the 1982
Convention, some 7 years later. Those present at the Second and Third
Sessions of the Conference when the drafting of the SNT occurred
know that some of the text included in Article 121 was not taken ver-
batim from any particular proposal but was the product of draftsmen
discretion based on the Second Committee Bureau’s considered judg-
ment of what language would not engender heated opposition from the
Committee as a whole. Still, bits and pieces of paragraph 3 can be found
more or less in proposals before the Committee. Tracing those clues in
a murky legislative trail dominated by a procedural atmosphere is elab-
orated below.

XI. Fourth Session, Spring 1976

The SNT was the focus of intensive informal negotiations both during
the inter-sessional period from May 1975 to the beginning of the fourth
session that started on 15 March 1976.41 At the first meeting of the
fourth session in New York, the President of the Conference indicated
that the next phase of work was the preparation by the Chairman of the
three Committees of a revised single negotiating text (RSNT). In
response, the RSNT was prepared as the sole responsibility of the vari-
ous Chairmen acting as officers of the Conference. Delegations were
not, however, precluded from moving for amendments or introducing
new proposals. In addition, following a general debate, the President of
the Conference took responsibility for the presentation of a Part IV
dealing with the item “Settlement of Disputes” and gave this subject the
same status as other parts of the RSNT.
In mid-March, 1976, the Second Committee had commenced its
article-by-article discussion of the SNT. It was the input from this pro-
cess that gave the Chairman the necessary confidence to prepare a
revised text. The input from delegations, in fact, was impressive as
during 53 informal meetings more than 3700 interventions were
made.42 Often over 120 of the 149 delegations at the Conference were

41
GA Res. 3483 of 12 December 1975.
42
III UNCLOS Vol. V, at 153, para. 4. Galindo Pohl (El Salvador) was responsible as
the Chairman in 1975 for the preparation and issuance of the SNT. Andreas Aguilar
(Venezuela) returned as Chairman on 15 March 1976 and was responsible for the prep-
aration of the Revised SNT. Id., at 152, para. 2.
1010 myron h. nordquist

in attendance, and most chose to be represented in the Second

Committee deliberations. To make progress given the sheer numbers,
Chairman Aguilar applied another procedural innovation, a pragmatic
“rule of silence” for the informal meetings. That is, silence on an SNT
article meant support for the article as drafted, while silence on an
amendment meant opposition to the amendment. In effect, the
Chairman’s process created a strong presumption of acceptance for the
SNT text as drafted. Also, few amendments commanded the necessary
support to alter the SNT text as first drafted.
Due to the tacit consent procedures in the Second Committee, the
SNT text dealing with the Regime of Islands was deemed “not objec-
tionable” as drafted by the Bureau. Indeed for the fifth session of the
Conference that met in New York from 2 August to 17 September 1976,
the basis of the work was the Revised Single Negotiating Text (RSNT)
that had been issued after the spring session in 1976. The Conference
as a whole chose next to halt the time-consuming article by article
review and to proceed with informal negotiations just on the “key out-
standing issues”. The idea was to avoid repetitious debate and to make
progress toward agreed treaty text. This procedure was adopted, in
part, because many delegations were being criticized in their capitals
for what was sometimes seen as the excessive length of the negotia-
tions. In the Second Committee, the Regime of Islands was deemed not
to be a “key outstanding issue” and no further modifications of the
SNT text of Article 12143 were made.44

C. Analysis of Specific Text of Article 121

As noted above, the Regime of Islands in the Convention is a separate

Part out of only 17 separate Parts. The entire text of the single article in
Part VIII consists of only three sentences which reads in its entirety:

Article 121
Regime of Islands
1. An island is a naturally formed area of land, surrounded by water,
which is above water at high tide.

43
 UN Doc. A/CONF.62/WP.8/Rev.1/PART II, para. 4 in Article 128 read exactly as
Article 121, III UNCLOS Vol. IV, at 172.
44
Id., at 153. See para. 6 for “rule of silence” as being deemed by the Chairman as
lack of support for amendments.
 textual interpretation of article 1211011

2. Except as provided for in paragraph 3, the territorial sea, the con-

tiguous zone, the exclusive economic zone and the continental shelf
of an island are determined in accordance with the provisions of
this Convention applicable to other land territory.
3. Rocks which cannot sustain human habitation or economic life of
their own shall have no exclusive economic zone or continental
shelf.
To determine the meaning of the above text, interpreters must apply
the international law rules governing treaty interpretation found in the
Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties.45 While the United States,
for example, is not a Party to the Vienna Convention its uncontested
policy also observed by other governments is that the Vienna
Convention reflects customary international law so as to be binding on
all nations. Thus, all States are obligated to rely upon the treaty inter-
pretation rules and guidelines in the Vienna Convention to analyze the
text of Article 121.
The general rule of interpretation in the Vienna Convention is found
in Article 31. Article 31 provides that the ordinary meaning is to be
given to the terms of the treaty in their context and in light of the trea-
ty’s object and purpose. In addition to the words in the text, for the
purpose of ordinary interpretation, the context includes the preamble,
annexes and any agreement or instrument relating to the treaty
accepted between all the parties. Together with the context, subsequent
agreements by the parties or subsequent practices establishing inter-
pretation of the treaty are to be taken into account as are any relevant
rules of international law applicable in the relations between the par-
ties. In sum, the text is first examined to determine the clear intent of
the parties. Thereafter the interpretation of the language may be vali-
dated or confirmed after the date the text was concluded either through
more explicit written agreements or by the conduct of the parties.
Article 32 of the Vienna Convention outlines the conditions allow-
ing recourse to supplementary means of interpretation including the
preparatory work of the treaty and the circumstances of its conclu-
sion. Such recourse is allowed to double check the result from read-
ing the ordinary meaning of the text itself. Highly germane to this
paper, is that recourse is also justified to determine the meaning when

45
 Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, 23 May 1969, UNTS Vol. 1155
No. 18232.
1012 myron h. nordquist

the interpretation according to Article 31: “(a) leaves the meaning

ambiguous or obscure; or (b) leads to a result which is manifestly
absurd or unreasonable.”
What then is the ordinary meaning of the text in Article 121? The
first sentence defines an island in what seems at first glance to be under-
standable words. Several points, however, are worth noting. The island
must be “naturally” formed; that is not man-made or artificially formed.
This can be controversial, even today. Japan, for instance, is engaged in
expensive construction efforts to keep a tiny, isolated elevation called
Okinotorishima above water so as to claim a 200-mile Exclusive Eco­
nomic Zone around it. Japan also wants to assert that Okinotorishima
as an island generates a continental shelf beyond 200 nautical miles.
The United States, by the way, was the delegation that proposed the
insertion of the word “natural” in the text incorporated for Article 121
(1). The idea was to ensure that nations would not be authorized to
claim entitlement to offshore resources simply by erecting artificial off-
shore installations or floating platforms.46 Also note that the language
in paragraph 1 requires that the land must be above water at high tide.
This qualifying condition was adopted to ensure that low tide eleva-
tions, shifting sand bars and the like were not deemed to be land.
The most significant impact on maritime space from Article 121 is
that islands are entitled, by paragraph 2, to a territorial sea, contiguous
zone, EEZ and continental shelf. One can easily understand why island
Nations like Australia or Great Britain rate full entitlement under both
conventional and customary international law for their island territory
just as continental nations such as China or Brazil do for their land ter-
ritory. Bear in mind, however, that with the advent of the 200-mile
zones and extended continental shelves in UNCLOS, isolated islands
such as the US owned Johnston Island in the middle of the Pacific are
thereby authorized under UNCLOS to generate a marine resource
jurisdiction larger than the State of California!47 This fact may explain
in large part why the US delegation at the Conference remained largely
silent on this expansive reduction of the Common Heritage Area.
The United States prudently let other delegations carry the negotiating

46
 Nordquist/Nandan/Rosenne (note 1), at 327, fn. 6.
47
200 nautical miles times 3.14 equals 125,600 square nautical miles. The area of
California is 163,707 square miles which is multiplied by 0.755 to convert that figure to
123,600 square nautical miles. See III UNCLOS Vol. II, at 217 for concerns by the
President of the Conference about objections to this excessive impact.
 textual interpretation of article 1211013

burden to the rest of the world on this issue. It is a fact of geography,

however, that such “vast” island entitlements are a major reason why
the United States gains more ocean area from EEZ and continental
shelf expansion under the Convention than any other country in the
world.
The United States is not the only continental country able to make
expansive claims under the island provisions in UNCLOS. Mexico, for
example, uses several islands in the Pacific Ocean, including Clarion
and Isla Socorro, to draw the outer limits of its 200 mile EEZs. The
combined marine area that resulted from drawing EEZs from these
two islands added some 33% to the total area of the Mexican EEZ in
the Pacific.48 Other examples abound around the world which must be
explored in other studies.
To recapitulate the context for the text of Article 121, recall that the
wording of Article 121 was proposed in principle, but not in precise
terms, early on in the Seabed Committee preparatory negotiations in
1973.49 Further remember that diverse proposals on islands were made
by various delegations both during the preparatory sessions and at the
start of the Conference. The various proposals were supposedly repre-
sented in the Main Trends Document issued at the end of 1974 in
Caracas. Most tellingly for analyzing the text of Article 121 is the fact
that the final wording in UNCLOS is substantively exactly as it was
drafted in the SNT issued at the end of the Third Session in 1975.
Despite proposed amendments from delegations after 1975, remarka-
bly, the 1975 text made its way intact into the 1982 Convention.
Accordingly, to interpret the meaning of the text of Article 121, we
must focus on what was drafted in the SNT.
In reflecting about what happened at the Conference, the reader
ought to be aware that the negotiating context in 1975 included rising
political pressure from many landlocked and geographically disadvan-
taged States (LL/GDS). The LL/GDS States numbered about 50, which
was about one-third of the nations at the Third Conference. Many were
well informed on implications of expanded jurisdiction, especially 200
mile zones. The LL/GDS group realized that articles granting full enti-
tlements to all islands, especially isolated ones, reduced the Common

48
 Unpublished SJD dissertation by Jorge A. Vargas, at 304–305, on file at the
University of Virginia School of Law library.
49
 UN Doc. A/AC. 138/53, Article 1 and Article 37, para. 2, reproduced in SBC
Report 1971 at 105, 114 and 131 (Malta).
1014 myron h. nordquist

Heritage Area.50 In the mid 1970s, the overwhelming majority of devel-

oping countries were swept up in a political tide at the Conference
expecting to gain substantial financial benefits from the mineral
resources in the seabed area beyond national jurisdiction. The LL/GDS
as a whole supported the Common Heritage concept and saw that
it had nothing to gain by accepting expansive claims for islands; in
fact it had much to lose. Equally troubling for the success of the over-
all Conference was the general recognition that island disputes usu-
ally generated insolvable bilateral delimitation problems which were
unsuitable for resolution during a multilateral negotiation.
A major reason, which can be “read between the lines” in the official
records, that paragraph 3 was inserted in Article 121 was to accommo-
date to pressures in the Second Committee that were pushing for an
exception to the definition of islands by denying 200 mile EEZs and
continental shelves to “rocks”. The Second Committee Chairman and
Rapporteur, with the aid of the UN Secretariat, may have come to
believe that an exception for certain islands was needed, in part, to
accommodate the aspirations of the LL/GDS States wanting to preserve
as much of the Common Heritage Area as possible. Another practical
aspect is that a key draftsman of the SNT, Rapporteur Nandan, was
faced with island/rock problems in Fiji. Conway reef (known as Ceva-
I-Ra in Fijian) is located 243 nautical miles from Fiji. Conway is unin-
habited and is only about 5 acres in size. Nandan also had to deal with
Rotuma Island located 250 nautical miles north of Fiji. Rotuma had
several thousand inhabitants, living on 44 square kilometers (about
11,000 acres) and was politically incorporated into Fiji, although with
a measure of autonomy. Nandan must have felt pressure to walk a line
between full entitlement for Rotuma and entitlement recognition for
Conway reef. He also had to cope with the pressures from the UK and
France (with a number of colonial island/rock possessions in various
oceans) to grant full entitlement to all islands/rocks and opposition

50
The future President of the Conference, Tommy Koh of Singapore, cited the
inequity of diminishing the common heritage of mankind when he spoke on 14 August
1974, while the SNT was being drafted. He pointedly remarked: “The economic zone
of a barren rock would be larger than the land territory of many States and larger
than the economic zones of many coastal States”, III UNCLOS Vol. II, at 285, para. 72.
For additional comment see M. Nordquist/C.-H. Park, Reports of the United States
Delegation to the Third United Nations Conference on the Law of the Sea, 1974,
second session, Caracas, Law of the Sea Institute Occasional Paper No. 33, at 105–107
(1983).
 textual interpretation of article 1211015

from a large number of States that wanted to preserve as much Common

Heritage area as possible.
This legislative history context (little of which can be directly derived
from official records) brings to the fore the point that the Vienna
Convention allows Parties to take into account other relevant rules of
international law, including canons or guidelines for construction, in
interpreting treaty text. One generally accepted canon of construction
in treaty interpretation is that exceptions to general rules are to be
strictly construed. In other words, the general rule carries more weight
than its exceptions. How does this apply with respect to Article 123 (3)?
As noted above, the general rule, embodied in the UNCLOS text and in
the 1958 Conventions, is that islands receive the same maritime zones
and entitlements as land territory. Paragraph 3 of Article 121 provides
an exception to this general rule in that it specifies that “rocks” are not
islands which rate treatment as other land territory for purposes of
EEZs and continental shelf entitlement. The application of generally
accepted guidelines for interpreting treaty text requires one to scruti-
nize the exception carefully and unless merited, not read the exception
too broadly to cut down the general rule. Not reading the exception
broadly in this case means recognizing a constructive presumption
that a “rock” is an island entitled to the full treatment as land for pur-
poses of maritime entitlement under UNCLOS. The rationale for this
conclusion is that the conditions disqualifying “rocks” are construed
narrowly since paragraph 3 is an exception. This reading is reinforced
in the text of paragraph 2 of Article 121 itself which begins with the
phrase: “Except as provided for in paragraph 3 […].” The unmistakable
point is that the actual text of Article 121 identifies paragraph 3 as an
exception to the maritime zonal entitlements otherwise provided in
the Convention for islands, which is on a par with other land
territory.
The text of Article 121 (3) consists of two independent conditions
that must be examined for they can disqualify a “rock” from being an
island. The text plainly reads that no EEZ or continental shelf entitle-
ment arises from rocks that “cannot sustain human habitation” or “eco-
nomic life of their own”. The word “or” between the two conditions is
plainly written as a disjunction and this is significant. An accurate
analysis cannot read “or” as if it was the conjunction “and”. Rocks qual-
ify as islands either because they can sustain human habitation or
because they can sustain an economic life of their own. The meaning of
these conditions is not readily evident in ordinary usage as is discussed
1016 myron h. nordquist

below. Note at this stage, however, that no mention is made in the text
of territorial sea or contiguous zone entitlements in paragraph 3. Under
UNCLOS, land territory, including islands, generates a 12 nautical mile
territorial sea and an adjacent 12 mile contiguous zone. Since no men-
tion is made of a territorial sea or contiguous zone in Article 121 (3), is
it reasonable to conclude that even rocks disqualified as islands are
entitled to a territorial sea and a contiguous zone?
Applying the interpretative presumption relating to exceptions in
cases of doubt, “rocks” would be deemed closer to enjoying the status
“islands”, which rate full entitlement as land. An implied corollary
inference based on treaty text construction rules is that an Article 121
(3) “rock” is entitled to a territorial sea and contiguous zone once it is
accepted as “territory of a sovereign State”. The reasoning behind this
assertion is as follows.
Security is a seminal aspect of a State’s sovereignty over its territory,
which includes islands for certain and rocks which meet one of the two
conditions in Article 121 (3). While one must imply that a rock is enti-
tled to a territorial sea since the right is not explicit in the text of Article
121 (2), another principle of treaty text construction comes into play.
Note that paragraph 3 of Article 121 expressly excludes an EEZ and
continental shelf for “rocks”. It would have been a simple matter for
draftsmen to exclude a territorial sea and contiguous zone in the listing
of the exclusions if that were the intent of the draftsmen. By not exclud-
ing territorial sea and contiguous zone entitlements, a reasonable infer-
ence can be made that such entitlements are permitted so long as
this inference is not in conflict with other parts of the Convention. The
author cannot find other provisions in UNCLOS that conflict with
the conclusion that a “rock” may generate a territorial sea and contigu-
ous zone. This reading is also in line with the point that an exception
in a treaty is to be read narrowly in case of doubt, thereby reinforcing
the general rule in UNCLOS that entitlement for island territory tilts
toward an equal legal footing with land territory.
Article 33 in the Convention provides for a contiguous zone that
extends 24 nautical miles from the Convention baselines but, unlike
the comparable 1958 text, makes no mention of delimitation. At the
Third Conference, there was virtually no discussion and certainly no
consensus about the contiguous zone principle beyond whatever its
meaning was in the 1958 context.
The text of Article 33 is based on paragraphs 1 and 2 of Article 24 of
the 1958 Territorial Sea and Contiguous Zone Convention, which, in
 textual interpretation of article 1211017

turn, were drawn from Article 66 of the draft ILC text recommended to
the First Conference. The ILC provided a lengthy commentary in 1956
discussing a coastal State’s right to exercise certain preventive or pro-
tective controls over a contiguous belt of what was then denoted as
high seas. The Commission recognized that the coastal State exercised
customs control to prevent infringements of its customs or fiscal regu-
lations within its territory or territorial sea. It may be significant that
the contiguous zone regime recognizes coastal State enforcement for
infringements both on land or island territory as well as for offenses in
its territorial sea. The ILC also believed that such limited enforcement
rights ought to be recognized for sanitary regulations. The Commission
explicitly rejected the inclusion of security rights in the contiguous
zone.51 The ILC “[…] considered that the extreme vagueness of the
term ‘security’ would open the way for abuses and that the granting of
such rights was not necessary. The enforcement of customs and sani-
tary regulations will be sufficient in most cases to safeguard the secu-
rity of the State. In so far as measures of self-defense against an
imminent and direct threat to the security of the State are concerned,
the Commission refers to the general principles of international law
and the Charter of the United Nations.”
The First Committee at the First Conference did adopt a proposal
that the words “fiscal or sanitary” be replaced in the draft article by the
words “fiscal, immigration or sanitary”.52 The ILC had been of two
minds about the inclusion of immigration control but concluded that
the coastal State could and should exercise immigration control in its
territory and that “there was no need to grant it special rights for this
purpose in the contiguous zone.”53 The final text of what became Article
24 of the Territorial Sea and Contiguous Zone Convention, however,
was proposed by the United States during the Plenary of the First
Conference where it was adopted. The new language in UNCLOS not
only extends the contiguous zone 12 nautical miles seaward but also
recognizes that there is more than one type of baseline by using the
plural form of baseline in Article 33.
The substance of Article 33 received scant attention at the Third
Conference. Attention, when given, focused on whether a contiguous

51
Yearbook of the International Law Commission 1956, Vol. II, UN Doc. A/CN.4/
SER.A/1956/Add.1 (1957), at 295, para. 4.
52
 UN Doc. A/CONF.13/C.1/L.55, I UNCLOS Vol. III, at 182, para. 21.
53
See supra note 51, at 295, para. 7.
1018 myron h. nordquist

zone was necessary at all given the seaward movement of the territorial
sea to 12 nautical miles. Some coastal States disliked the concept
because it detracted from the exclusivity of the 200-mile EEZ while
maritime nations favored it for the same reason. The Article, of course,
makes no mention of the status of its waters.
What is clear is that the coastal State does not have sovereignty in
the zone. Legitimate infringements justifying action therein must arise
from direct effects on its territory or territorial sea. Since most State
practice is based on anti-smuggling enforcement, the ILC construed
the word “custom” broadly.54 The Commission did not define the term
“fiscal” and its meaning was not clarified at either the First or Third
Conferences. An interpretation compatible with the content of the
term “customs” would be that “fiscal” embraces financial laws and reg-
ulations, except customs matters. This could include currency exchange
controls, taxes and trade restrictions such as those pertaining to illegal
drugs or weapons. The Commission in 1956 did refer briefly to “immi-
gration” by noting that the term included “emigration”.55 The meaning
of “sanitary” must stand on its own as a word since it was neither
explained nor discussed at either the First or Third Conference. As a
matter of treaty text interpretation, the inclusion of extensive provi-
sions in Part XII of UNCLOS dealing with protection and preservation
of the marine environment would suggest construing the word “sani-
tary” in Article 33 as having quite a different meaning from the term
“marine pollution”. The accepted practice in construing text is to avoid
redundancy on the basis that every word in a treaty text ought to be
given meaning in context. To the author, a reasonable conclusion is
that the term “sanitary” refers to matters such as ocean based sewage
lines and the long standing practice of coastal States to enforce a wide
variety of measures regulating the public health of its nationals. In so
doing the coastal State is still limited by Article 33 to the prevention of
undesirable conduct that occurs within its territory or territorial sea.
Moreover, the coastal State may take punitive action in the zone only
for infringements committed in its territorial sea or territory. A com-
mon practice in a contiguous zone entails stopping a suspicious vessel
for boarding and verification of manifest. Ships found to be in breach
of coastal State regulations may be taken into port where fines are
imposed or illicit cargo confiscated in accordance with national laws.

54
Id.
55
Id.
 textual interpretation of article 1211019

In all events, Article 33 requires a legitimate nexus between infringe-

ments of identified wrongdoings in the coastal State’s territory or ter-
ritorial sea and the exercise of coastal State enforcement powers in its
contiguous zone.
One can speculate about why there was so little attention given to
the substantive legal content of the contiguous zone at the Third
Conference. Perhaps the more explicit detailing of prohibited acts in
the territorial sea extending to 12 nautical miles defused efforts to push
for competences such as protection of “security” interests as had
occurred at the First Conference. An additional factor might have been
that many States did not expect a contiguous zone article to be included
in the SNT at all. However, like Article 121, once the text was there, the
tacit consent and deferred voting procedures used at the Third
Conference left most States not seriously objecting with the less con-
troversial texts of the SNT, despite different reasons and degrees of
motivation for inaction.
Thus, Article 33 of UNCLOS provides for a contiguous zone wherein
the coastal State “may exercise the control necessary to” prevent and
punish infringements of its “customs, fiscal, immigration or sanitary
regulations”. Since the author has concluded that the better reading of
the text is that a “rock” is entitled to a territorial sea, similar reasoning
justifies a “rock” being authorized to declare a contiguous zone allow-
ing enforcement powers directly tied to infringements on a coastal
State’s territory or territorial sea.56
There was no discussion at the Third Conference of whether or not a
“rock” was entitled to a contiguous zone. The logic in support of grant-
ing “rocks” a contiguous zone is as legally compelling an entitlement
for a “rock” as it is for granting a territorial sea. Why authorize coastal
States to declare a territorial sea around “rocks” and then not authorize
the relatively non-controversial control necessary to prevent and pun-
ish infringements of “customs, fiscal, immigration or sanitary regula-
tions” within their territory or territorial sea? Since the legal status of
the EEZ waters are not changed by a contiguous zone, the only benefit
of denying this entitlement would accrue to outlaws such as pirates or

56
 Article 33 in UNCLOS is based on customary international law and State practice
which is unlikely (given the few qualified “rocks” around the world) to engender much
negative reaction in a practical sense. On the positive side, the option to declare a con-
tiguous zone might facilitate creative resolution of certain aspects of island/rock mari-
time delimitation disputes that are always troubling and at times politically explosive.
1020 myron h. nordquist

smugglers. In addition to that policy argument, there may be States

that do not want to declare a territorial sea around their “rocks” and
would be content to merely declare a contiguous zone as a protective
measure for such a relatively small piece of its territory. A State is
authorized but not compelled to declare a territorial sea and inherently
ought to have the right to assert lesser jurisdiction out to 12 nautical
miles for certain. Beyond that for an additional 12 nautical miles, both
zones are linked in conventional and customary law as entitlements
that flow from the same sovereignty over territory. If a State has a right
to declare a territorial sea around a rock, what State has standing or
cause to protest an adjacent contiguous zone? What is the legal argu-
ment against a 24 nautical mile contiguous zone? If one is made, the
coastal State has the option of declaring a 12 nautical mile territorial
sea and an additional zone of 12 for a contiguous zone. A State with
standing to object is hardly better off by insisting that a territorial sea is
an essential partner with a contiguous zone.

D. Supplementary Sources to Interpret Article 121 (3)

The most difficult textual interpretation problem in Article 121 is that

the meanings of the two conditions which distinguish a “rock” from an
“island” in paragraph 3 are “ambiguous or obscure” in the sense of the
Vienna Convention. That is, the ordinary meaning of the words read in
their context and in light of the other guidance in Article 31 of the
Vienna Convention (object, purpose, preamble, Annexes, subsequent
agreements, subsequent practice and the like) still leaves the meaning
unclear. On its face the two conditions in Article 123 (3) are without
doubt at least “ambiguous”. If so, then the rules in Article 32 of the
Vienna Convention may be applied to further ascertain the meaning of
the two qualifying conditions in Article 121 (3).
A review of the legislative history or context for the text of Article
121 may be used to test the results from analysis of the text itself and,
in particular, for clarification of the meaning of the two conditions in
paragraph 3 that are ambiguous. Earlier in this study we traced the
general context of the relevant Conference negotiations highlighting
several of the unique negotiating procedures which must be under-
stood to ascertain the meaning of the Article 121 text. The following
examination of supplementary sources narrowly focuses on the mean-
ing of the words sustaining “human habitation or economic life of their
own” which appear in Article 123 (3) of UNCLOS.
 textual interpretation of article 1211021

The two most authoritative sources to research the context of Article

121 are “A Legislative History of Part VIII (Article 121) of the United
Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea” published in 1988 by the
UN Office for Oceans Affairs and the Law of the Sea57 and “United
Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea 1982, A Commentary” cited
earlier, the relevant volume of which was subsequently published in
1995.58
The 1988 UN Study is divided into two parts. The first traces the
evolution of the legal regime of islands during the preparations for and
negotiations at the First Conference on the Law of the Sea that resulted
in the four 1958 Geneva Conventions on the Law of the Sea. The sec-
ond part of the UN study covers the negotiations and development of
the islands regime text at the Third UN Conference on the Law of the
Sea. As outlined above, the most salient point is that the primary source
of the text of Article 121 was proposed in principle at the second ses-
sion (first substantive session) of the Conference held in Caracas from
20 June–29 August 1974. The results of the Second Committee delib-
erations the next year, where the regime of islands proposals were
reviewed, were reflected in part II of the SNT issued on 7 May 1975.59
As emphasized earlier in this study, the text of Article 121 when
issued in 1975 remained substantively the same all the way into the text
of the 1982 Convention. While the text of what was then denoted
Article 132 was “informal” and was not characterized as a “negotiated”
text, the fact is that the language of the two qualifiers differentiating
between islands and rocks are just as they first appeared in the 1975
SNT. Why did these identical conditions survive intact into the final
Convention text at the conclusion of the Conference in 1982?
Procedural innovations at the Third Conference explain part of the
puzzle. Certainly there were many delegations not happy with the
island text. The UN study makes reference to various proposals and
comments by delegations on the regime of islands up to and including
the final session held in Montego Bay, Jamaica 6–10 December 1982.
While useful, the UN study is written in a manner consistent with UN
report practice. There are not supposed to be speculations or, indeed,

57
 United Nations (ed.), The Law of the Sea, Regime of Islands, Legislative History
of Part VIII (Article 121) of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea
(1988).
58
 Nordquist/Nandan/Rosenne (note 1), at 321–339.
59
See supra note 37. For detailed discussion of rules of construction, see N. Singer,
Sutherland Statutory Construction (7th ed. 2009).
1022 myron h. nordquist

even inferences expressed in the report concerning the ambiguous text

in the two conditions in Article 121 (3).
The 1995 Virginia Commentary largely traces the same evolution of
the negotiating history of the text of Article 121 as was covered in the
1988 UN study. The Commentary, however, was written and reviewed
by actual negotiators at the Third Conference. The General Editors of
the Commentary series were Shabtai Rosenne, a delegate to all three
conferences and a distinguished scholar and Satya N. Nandan, Fiji’s
Ambassador. The latter is particularly relevant to this study as he was
the Rapporteur for the Second Committee and the individual most
involved in drafting the actual text of the SNT for the Second Committee
in 1974 and 1975. It is not a coincidence that the text of Article 121 is
fully consistent with the positions taken by Fiji at the Conference. The
Chairmen of the Second Committee in 1974 and 1975 were representa-
tives of the Latin American Group and they exercised great influence
on many issues. The fact is, however, that the SNT was written in
English and the Spanish-speaking Chairmen were preoccupied with
highly political issues such as the residual rights status of the EEZ, the
extent of the legal continental shelf and transit passage in international
straits. The author doubts that that any guidance was given from the
Chairman at all with respect to the wording of the “sustaining human
habitation or economic life of its own” conditions in the text of what
became Article 121 (3). Had the Chairman focused his attention, the
text could have been altered during the article by article revision pro-
cess that took place in 1976. It is in the official records that the
Venezuelan Delegation later failed in a last minute attempt as late as
1982 to allow reservations to be made to Article 121 (3).60 This is worth
noting because the Venezuelan Ambassador to the Conference, Andres
Aguilar, had resumed his role as the Chairman of the Second Committee
during the third session in 1976 when the text for Article 121 (3) was
specifically reviewed. One can speculate that the undesired features of
Article 121 (3) for Venezuela might not have been recognized in a
timely fashion. It is also plausible that the Chairman, along with many
other delegates, might not have completely anticipated the impact of
the tacit consent procedures on subordinate issues such as the defini-
tion of islands and rocks. Aguilar was personally preoccupied in 1976

60
 Venezuela indicated it could not accept Arts. 15, 74, 83 and 121 (3) as applied
to maritime delimitation during the 182nd plenary meeting in 1982. See supra note 57,
at 108, para. F.
 textual interpretation of article 1211023

with outer limit of the continental shelf, a subject in which he had great
interest and expertise as the General Counsel of Venezuela’s state petro-
leum company. As part of the overall negotiating atmosphere after the
appearance of the SNT, the focus of delegates turned to the larger,
insolvable negotiating problem of the regime of island impacts on the
delimitation of maritime space between opposite or adjacent States as
well as on the politically volatile colonial/foreign occupation issue.
The Conference did resolve the thorny political issues associated
early on with islands under foreign domination or control by moving
the subject from the Convention text into the Final Act, Annex I,
Resolution III (see full discussion in Volume V of the Virginia
Commentary).61 In addition, the highly controversial subject of archi-
pelagoes or groups of islands was also carved out of the Regime of
Islands discussions and placed in a separate Part IV. The new archipe-
lagic regime was laboriously negotiated between those States such as
Indonesia, Philippines and Bahamas that aspired to be recognized as
archipelagic States and the major maritime powers such as Great
Britain, Soviet Union and United States that wanted to preserve free-
dom of navigation in the high seas areas within the proposed archi-
pelago. The compromise in Part IV was carefully crafted and was
subsequently hailed as a major accomplishment of the Third
Conference. These negotiations were hard fought and time consuming.
The regime of islands issues by comparison were considered by most
delegations as more of a “technical” matter for which limited political

61
Item 19 (a) became a lightning rod for attention at the start of the Conference in
1974 when eight separate proposals were submitted and discussed in the 38th to 40th
meetings of the Second Committee. Recall that the topic appeared as Provision 240 of
the Main Trends Working Paper, with four formulas. At the third session (1975) during
the two open-ended consultative working group meetings on islands, the topic was
included as a single Article 136 denominated as a Part X. Curiously, the limitation to
“islands” was thus expanded without explanation to territories creating application to
land areas. During the fourth session (1976), Article 136 was roundly criticized during
the article by article review. Therefore, Chairman Aguilar transferred it from the text to
the end of Part II where it was designated “Transitional provision”. Procedurally this
removed the topic as a distraction to the Second Committee but substantively related
it to the whole convention. The practical effect was to advance negotiations at a time
when the Conference was under pressure to “make progress”. Ultimately, newly elected
Conference President Tommy Koh found a clever procedural solution by relegating the
item to a non-binding resolution. As noted in the Virginia Commentary: “In that way,
a highly divisive issue, which at one time threatened to wreck the Conference, was set-
tled, probably to the satisfaction of no one.” See M. Nordquist/S. Rosenne/L. B. Sohn
(eds.), United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea 1982: A Commentary, Vol. V,
at 478 et seq. (1989).
1024 myron h. nordquist

capital was not warranted since the issues would not “make or break”
the Conference. The extraction of archipelago and colonial domination
matters from Item 19 cleared the way for the regime of islands issues to
be settled, however imperfectly.
In the preparatory meetings undertaken for the Third Conference,
we noted above that Arvid Pardo of Malta first raised the issue of defin-
ing islands in 1971 when he presented his comprehensive draft of an
ocean space treaty. He was wise enough even at this early stage of the
discussions about what was to become the Third Conference to suggest
that the status of islands in determining the sovereignty and jurisdic-
tion of coastal States over ocean space ought to be left for future con-
sideration.62 As we shall see, much time and effort at the Third
Conference would have been saved had the delegates heeded his words
of wisdom.
To briefly summarize, the Third Conference did not have the benefit
of ILC draft texts for its preparation as had the First and the Second
Conferences in 1958 and 1960 respectively. Instead, the UN General
Assembly in late 1971 convened a comprehensive Third Conference
on the Law of the Sea for 1973, enlarged the previously authorized
Sea-Bed Committee and gave it the mandate to prepare for the Third
Conference.63 A protracted and largely unproductive negotiation
then ensued over the list of subjects and issues to be taken up by
the Third Conference. Essentially the debate was about the agenda
for the Conference with delegations trying to manipulate substantive
advantage by arguing over labels. Islands, especially in the context
of maritime delimitation, emerged early on in the process as possibly
presenting insolvable problems. Accordingly, issues pertaining to
the regime of islands eventually were listed under several headings
in the proposed agenda. The matter was resolved as far as the agenda
for the Conference was concerned when the topic “Regime of Islands”
was approved at the 1972 UN Sea-Bed Committee session as item 19
on the List of Subjects and Issues. Item 19 simply read: “(a) Islands
under colonial dependence or foreign domination or control; (b) other
related matters.”64
Thus, the broad parameters of the future debate concerning islands
were already framed by the 1973 session of the Sea-Bed committee.

62
See supra notes 11 and 12.
63
See supra note 17.
64
See supra notes 32 and 33.
 textual interpretation of article 1211025

On one side were the positions of those delegations that favored spe-
cific, objective criteria to define islands. On another side were those
that supported subjective criteria or no definition at all. All delegations
acknowledged that the 1958 Convention island articles were vague but
no consensus existed on how to formulate general rules that all could
accept given the widely diverse factual cases around the world. Article
121 was an attempt to accommodate both these essentially irreconcil-
able positions. For the objective definition proponents, the most influ-
ential “spokesmen” were members of the Organization of African Unity
(OAU). The OAU delegates advocated the need to define islands, and
thereby fix maritime entitlement using objective factors. The OAU
group of States recommended that such determinations be based on
equitable principles (contrary to the median line advocates) consider-
ing all relevant factors and special circumstances including:
(a) the size of islands;
(b) their population or the absence thereof;
(c) their contiguity to the principal territory;
(d) their geological configuration; and
(e) the special interest of island States and archipelagic States.65
The OAU delegates’ approach was also at odds with that of States that
preferred the existing law with its imprecise definitions in Article 10 of
1958 Convention on the Territorial Sea and the Contiguous Zone or
even with no definition as was the case in the text of Article 1 of the
Convention on the Continental Shelf. Greece with its many islands was
the most vocal proponent urging full entitlement for islands without
any distinctions being made with respect to other land territory. In
addition the mainly newly independent States, mostly in the Pacific,
pointed to their nearly total dependence on the sea for their livelihood.
Fiji was strategically positioned at the Conference to be the most influ-
ential proponent for the latter view.
Recall further that at the Third Conference, the fourteen African
States advancing the OAU approach countered the “full” island State

65
Declaration of the Organization of African Unity (UN Doc. A/CONF.62/33) was
an attempt to propose objective and equitable rules in opposition to the “exaggerated
claims of countries possessing islands” as contained in the 1958 Conventions. Tunisia,
40th meeting, 14 August 1974, paras. 23–24. On 27 August 1974, fourteen African
States introduced UN Doc. A/CONF. 62/L.62/Rev.1 distinguishing between islands,
islets, rocks and low tide elevations largely based on size, III UNCLOS Vol. III,
at 232–233.
1026 myron h. nordquist

arguments or “vague definition” supporters early on by introducing an

article patterned on the OAU declaration that had been submitted to
the Sea-Bed Committee. The group urged the use of equitable princi-
ples for maritime delimitation but attempted to stay clear of major con-
troversy by not extending this principle to island States or archipelagic
States.66 Turkey joined in with the OAU coalition whose positions on
islands were consistent with Turkey’s vigorous campaign to downgrade
the maritime entitlement status of the numerous Greek islands off the
Anatolian peninsula.
Romania had also introduced a draft island article in 1973 to the
Sea-Bed Sub-Committee II which was charged with undertaking
the preparatory work on traditional law of the sea issues for the
Conference.67 A novel distinction, little noticed at the time, concerning
the maritime area entitlement of islets and small islands was offered in
the Romanian draft text. Of particular interest for this study was para-
graph 1 in the Romanian proposal which read: “Islets and small islands,
uninhabited and without economic life which are situated on the con-
tinental shelf of the coast, do not possess any of the shelf or other
marine space of the same nature.”68
The text in the Romanian proposed draft article in 1973 was intended
to discount the maritime delimitation entitlement of the 50 acre
Serpents’ Island, then a Soviet possession (now Ukrainian) located
near Romania’s northern sea border where the Danube River delta
flows into the Black Sea.69 Romania was to argue 36 years later in its
2009 maritime delimitation dispute with the Ukraine before the ICJ
that Serpents’ Island was a rock incapable of sustaining human habita-
tion or an economic life of its own.70 Romania specifically pointed to

66
 UN Doc. A/CONF. 62/C.2/L.53, III UNCLOS Vol. III, at 228–229.
67
See supra note 57, at 21.
68
Id.
69
Serpents’ Island or Snake Island is located twenty two miles from the coast, east of
the mouth of the Danube River. The island now has about 100 Ukrainian inhabitants,
a helicopter platform, a small pier, a 150 year old lighthouse and other civilian infra-
structure, mostly of recent construction. The Soviet Union’s possession of the territory
was confirmed in a 1961 treaty with Romania but the Romanian side refused to accept
Russian offers regarding delimitation of the adjacent continental shelf. Ukraine inher-
ited control over the territory in 1991 and in 1997 Romania and Ukraine agreed
Serpents’ Island was Ukrainian but provided for a final ruling on offshore delimitation
by recourse to the ICJ. See Wikipedia, available at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/
Ostriv_Zmiinyi.
70
Maritime Delimitation in the Black Sea (Romania v. Ukraine), ICJ Reports 2009,
61, available at www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/132/14987.pdf. In the 3 February 2009
 textual interpretation of article 1211027

UNCLOS Article 121 (3), to urge that Serpents’ Island did not generate
an EEZ or continental shelf.71
The significance of the 1973 Romanian proposal is that the phrase
“uninhabited and without economic life” in its text was used in tandem
as a single condition for defining “islets and small islands”. The 1973
Romanian text was intended to describe the existing status of islets and
small islands with Serpents’ Island specifically in mind. There was no
intent by the Romanians in the 1973 proposal to characterize future
capacity to sustain inhabitants or economic life. Equally important to
note about the 1973 Romanian proposal is that these conditions were
meant to apply where such islets and small islands “are situated on the
continental shelf of the coast”. The Romanians were thinking almost
exclusively about their own maritime delimitation circumstances when
they proposed their draft article in 1973. This reading of their intent is
confirmed in the second paragraph of the Romanian proposal. There,
the Romanians conceded that such islets and small islands might rate a
territorial sea but the “water thus determined shall not, in any event,
affect marine spaces which belong to the State or to neighboring
States.”72 The Romanians were attempting to formulate a general article
for the text at the Conference to help their country gain an advantage
over the Ukrainians based on the specific facts pertaining to Serpents’
Island. The Romanian intent is relevant but is not determinative in
interpreting the meaning of Article 121 (3). Strictly speaking, under
the Vienna Convention, what counts legally is how the text reads, not
speculations on what the Romanians or anyone else for that matter,
intended.

I. Deliberations at the Third Conference

The first formal session of the Third Conference held at the UN
Headquarters in 1973 only dealt with organizational issues as substan-
tive preparations for the Conference had proven more difficult and

Judgment, the ICJ held that Serpents’ Island would have no effect on delimitation,
other than generating a 12-nautical mile territorial sea. Both parties were probably
satisfied with the resulting delimitation between their respective claims although it is
ironic that after many years of focus by the parties on the maritime entitlement gener-
ated by Serpents’ Island, the ICJ simply side stepped the issue of its legal status for
delimitation purposes.
71
Id.
72
Since the ICJ did not choose to opine on Article 121 (3), the issue was simply not
decided by the ICJ.
1028 myron h. nordquist

time-consuming than anticipated. Thus, the formal start of the

Conference in 1973 was mainly a face-saving effort for the UN General
Assembly that had mandated the Conference to begin in 1973. The sec-
ond formal session held in Caracas in 1974 marked the actual begin-
ning of substantive negotiations. The commencement in Caracas began
with an impressive general debate as, for the first time, some 150 dele-
gations laid out their main positions on law of the sea. As it turned out,
with so many participants with so much to say, the general debate in
the Plenary took up most of the formal meeting time in Caracas. The
Conference therefor got off to a slow start and, frankly speaking, it
remained behind schedule for many years. The real problem was lack
of agreement on hard core substantive maritime interests. This fact
gave birth to procedural innovations that limited debate and deferred
votes on issues that probably would have wrecked the Conference. The
formal opening of the Conference generated many additional propos-
als from delegations, as contrasted with proposals made during the
preparations in the Sea-Bed Committee. Several draft texts were pro-
posed on the issue of defining islands, islets and other similar geo-
graphic features. Romania, for instance, on 23 July 1974, again proposed
in Caracas that only true islands, and not low tide elevations, islets
(“of small size, uninhabited and without economic life”) that were
located outside the territorial sea, were to have value in delimiting
ocean space between neighboring States.73
The OAU coalition of States, on 19 July 1974, also formally reiterated
its position on the need for a proper determination of the nature of
maritime spaces for islands. The OAU States proposed size, population,
location, geology and special interests of island and archipelagic States
as criteria under the Regime of Islands heading.74 The proposal for
these “objective” features was predictably countered by Greece, which
on 9 August 1974, submitted a draft providing that the maritime zones
of all islands (left undefined) simply be treated as equivalent to land
territory.75 The States urging full entitlement for all islands argued that

73
 UN Doc. A/CONF.62/C.2/L.18, Article 2, paras. 2–5, III UNCLOS Vol. III,
at 195–196. Delimitation was foremost in the Romanian thinking but the seeds for
Article 121 (3) were still present.
74
 UN Doc. A/CONF.62/33, III UNCLOS Vol. III, at 63.
75
 UN Doc. A/CONF.62/C.2/L.50, III UNCLOS Vol. III, at 227. See UN Doc. A/
Conf.62/C.2/L.30 introduced by Fiji, New Zealand, Tonga and Western Samoa, III
UNCLOS Vol. III, at 210–211.
 textual interpretation of article 1211029

sovereignty was indivisible and merited by islands just as much as by

land territory.
Romania responded to the political pressures generated by the OAU
group-Greece debate by introducing another compromise proposal on
12 August 1974 that defined “islet” as being less than one square kilom-
eter in area and “islands similar to islets” that were larger than one
square kilometer but “which is not or cannot be inhabited (perma-
nently) or which does not or cannot have its own economic life”. Such
islets and similar islands, where situated on the continental shelf or
economic zone of another State, were not, in principle, to be used to
extend the maritime space of the owning State.76 Uruguay had dutifully
proposed to the Conference a draft containing the text leaving an
undefined extension of maritime zones for islands exactly as was in the
texts of the 1958 Conventions.77
On the day before the Caracas session ended, Second Committee
Chairman Aguilar explained that the Committee had not achieved “all
that could be desired” because “the bases necessary for arriving at spe-
cific agreements on issues that are both important and complex did not
exist”.78 He stated that the officers of the Committee and the UN
Secretariat had, however, identified the “main trends” in 13 informal
working papers with respect to the subjects and issues allocated to the
Second Committee. The Main Trends Document was said to reflect the
various proposals submitted by States either in the preparatory work of
the Sea-Bed Committee or at the Conference itself.79 The collective
work in the document was presented as a faithful reflection of the main
substantive positions delegations had proposed. The Chairman
expected the Main Trends Document to be the point of departure for
future work of the Second Committee. He saw the task ahead was to

76
 UN Doc. A/CONF.62/C.2/L.53, III UNCLOS Vol. III, at 228.
77
 UN Doc. A/CONF.62/C.2/L.75, III UNCLOS Vol. III, at 23. This proposal was
submitted on 22 August 1974. Due to alphabetical seating of delegations, the US dele-
gation sat next to the delegation from Uruguay. The author was informed one day in
Caracas that while Uruguay did not necessarily support all provisions in the 1958
Conventions, its delegation believed that the Conventions embodied key components
of existing international law. Uruguay’s delegation presented all four 1958 Conventions
to the Conference to ensure they were formally before the Second Committee for con-
sideration in the drafting process. This was a selfless act that embodied the true spirit
about the negotiations that permeated delegations as they honestly strived to bridge
national differences in order to create a universal convention.
78
 UN Doc. A/Conf.62/C.2/L.86, III UNCLOS Vol. III, at 242.
79
Id.
1030 myron h. nordquist

reduce the number of variants and to engage in an item by item review

in the Second Committee with the goal of producing a single text for
the draft convention.80
Chairman Aguilar emphasized that the Main Trends Document did
not purport to reflect the degree of support for any formulation but he
added that “the States represented here know perfectly well which are
the positions that enjoy support […].”81 His overall evaluation included
his view on the broad outlines of the Convention and other problems
that remained to be studied and resolved.
The Regime of Islands item remained at the end of the 1974 Caracas
session in the category of unresolved problems.82 Procedural innova-
tions implemented in 1975 were to change that status.

II. Main Trends in 1974

Item 19 of the Main Trends Document contained provisions 239
through 243. These provisions are not easily found but are in Appendix
I attached to the report for the UN General Assembly on the first two
sessions of UNCLOS that was submitted on 17 October 1974 by the
Rapporteur-general Kenneth O. Rattray of Jamaica.83 The Regime of
Islands was relegated to the end of the Report, in the last Part XIII. At
this stage of the negotiations, Provision 239 is the most relevant focus
for the purposes of this study. The reason is that Provision 240 dealt
with islands under colonial dependence, foreign domination or control
while Provisions 241, 242 and 243 were procedurally deemed to
deal with delimitation. As noted earlier, the highly political issues in
Provision 240 were defused by the clever procedural device of side-
tracking voting by including them in the Final Act. The proposed
articles on maritime delimitation were also pulled out of the item 19
category for separate treatment in the territorial sea, EEZ and conti-
nental shelf parts in the Convention. The Third Conference ulti-
mately did not resolve maritime delimitation problems by selecting
either hard and fast median lines or equitable special circumstances
approaches. The situation was that the voting camps were about
evenly split between the two approaches. The diplomatic technique
employed in the Second Committee was to reduce the texts on the
­subject to the highest level of generality that would not be publicly

80
Id.
81
Id.
82
Id.
83
 UN Doc. A/CONF.62/L.8/Rev.1, III UNCLOS Vol. III, at 93 and 107.
 textual interpretation of article 1211031

objected to by the overwhelming number of delegates. The eventual

formulation of the text in the Convention was to apply delimitation
rules in a manner that would achieve an “equitable result” as seen in
Arts. 15, 74, and 83.

III. Regime of Islands

The three formulations that remained in Provision 239 of the Main
Trends Document issued at the close of the 1974 session at Caracas
read:
Regime of Islands (item 19)
Provision 239
Formula A
An island is a vast naturally formed area of land, surrounded by
water, which is above water at high tide.

Formula B
An island is a vast naturally formed area of land, surrounded by
water, which is above water at high tide.
An islet is a smaller, naturally formed area of land, surrounded by
water, which is above water at high tide.
A rock is a naturally formed rocky elevation of ground, surrounded
by water, which is above water at high tide.
A low-tide elevation is a naturally formed area of land which is sur-
rounded by and above water at low tide but submerged at high tide.

Formula C
An islet is a naturally formed elevation of land (or simply an emi-
nence of the sea-bed) less than one square kilometre in area, sur-
rounded by water, which is above water at high tide.
An island similar to an islet is a naturally formed elevation of land
(or simply an eminence of the sea-bed) surrounded by water, which
is above water at high tide, which is more than one square kilometre
but less than … square kilometres in area, which is not or cannot be
inhabited (permanently) or which does not or cannot have its own
economic life.84

 Provision 239, Formula C, III UNCLOS Vol. III, at 140.

84
1032 myron h. nordquist

Formula A is the verbatim text of Article 1 (1) of the 27 August 1974

(recall the Caracas session ended on 29 August) proposal of 14 African
States based on a revision of their 19 July OAU Declaration text.85
The revision backed by the OAU actually proposed a fundamental
change in the definition of islands from that contained in Article 10 of
the 1958 Convention on the Territorial Sea and the Contiguous Zone
by inserting the word “vast” in the text. The obvious new meaning
in ordinary understanding connoted that an island had to be very
large in size, perhaps enormous. The definition suggested distinguish-
ing islands by size. The problem was that the text still remained
essentially ambiguous as “vast” was not defined and is undeniably an
imprecise word.
Formula B is also a verbatim text taken from paragraphs 1, 2, 3 and
4 of Article 1 of the 27 August 1974 revised OAU proposal supported
by the 14 African States. Here, textual distinctions are made between
the words “island”, “islet”, “rock” and “low-tide elevation”. The reason
for proposing definitional distinctions is made evident by Article 2 (4)
of the OAU proposal that read: “A State cannot claim jurisdiction over
the marine space by virtue of the sovereignty or control which it exer-
cises over an islet, rock or low-tide elevation […].”86
One can speculate that the intent behind Formula B was to give
more precision to the term “vast” by defining islets, rocks and low-tide
elevations negatively, that is, as not being “vast” islands. Article 2 of the
27 August OAU proposal was administratively deemed to fit in the
maritime delimitation category of proposals where it was to be reviewed
in the Second Committee at the 1975 (third) session in Geneva. The
remarkable aspect about the selection of the textual formulations with
the word “vast” modifying islands, islets, rocks and low tide elevations
is that both Formula A and Formula B were radical departures from
the lack of definitions as provided in the texts of the 1958 Conventions.
Bear in mind that the majority of coastal States (about 50 in number)
attending the Third Conference were parties to the Territorial Sea and
Contiguous Zone and Continental Shelf Conventions. The 1958
Conventions represented the existing law for these nations. As Uruguay
had submitted the full text of both these conventions to the Second
Committee, the 1958 texts were eligible to be considered for inclusion

 Provision 239, Formula A, III UNCLOS Vol. III, at 140. See supra note 74.
85

 UN Doc. A/CONF.62/C.2/L.62/Rev.1, III UNCLOS Vol. III, at 233.

86
 textual interpretation of article 1211033

in the Main Trends Document. Yet, both Formula A or B selected for

inclusion were drafted to reduce substantially the 1958 “formula” which
provided equivalence of islands with land territory.
Formula C is the verbatim text of Article 1 of the draft articles
on definition of and regime applicable to “islets” and “islands similar
to islets” proposed by Romania on 12 August 1974.87 The selection of
this proposal, like A and B, also reflected a radical departure from the
existing international law in the 1958 Conventions in which there was
no definition of an island. Article 2 of the Romanian proposal even
attempted to include a size limitation (being careful, however, that
Serpents’ Island was discounted as too small) providing that islets or
islands similar to islets were not to be counted for extending the mari-
time space of coastal States.
The Second Committee had been given, almost as its first docu-
ment, a submission by the United Kingdom, that proposed the text
of Article 10 of the 1958 Territorial Sea and the Contiguous Zone
Convention which, as repeatedly noted above, did not define “island”
with a size limitation.88 What is puzzling is why Formula A and
Formula B were selected by the Bureau to appear in the Main Trends
Document. Were they really main trends? By adding the word “vast”
to modify the term “island”, the Bureau was supposed to have deter-
mined that these proposals represented a “main trend” at the Conference
more so than the word “island” in the 1958 Conventions which
represented the existing law binding one third of the delegates at the
Conference.
Perhaps the explanation of why a formula based on the 1958
Convention language was not selected as a “main trend” of the Second
Committee on the Regime of Islands item lies in understanding where
the negotiations stood at the end of Caracas. The Committee II Bureau
did not know in 1974 that Provisions 240, 241, 242 and 243 of the Main
Trends Document were to be procedurally shifted elsewhere in 1975
for consideration. This left Provision 239 standing alone. The Romanian
proposal defined an “islet” as less than one square kilometer (about 247
acres). The reader has probably gathered already that the author
believes that facts of national geography provide a more reliable

87
 UN Doc. A/CONF.62/C.2/L.53, III UNCLOS Vol. III, at 228–229.
88
 UN Doc. A/CONF.62/C.2/L.3 (United Kingdom), III UNCLOS Vol. III, at 183. It
is noteworthy that the UK and 1958 texts were identical to the first article of the pro-
posal submitted by Fiji et al. See supra note 75.
1034 myron h. nordquist

prediction of a State’s maritime positions than any amount of rheto-

ric. The less than one square kilometer size criteria defining an “islet”
in the final proposal of Romania in 1974 would, by definition, include
Serpents’ Island. The second paragraph of Formula C defined an
“island similar to an islet” as being larger than one square kilometer but
“which is not or cannot be inhabited (permanently) or which does
not or cannot have its own economic life”. These disqualifications were
directed at delimitation (bearing in mind the case of Serpents’ Island)
and it was a stretch for the Committee II Bureau to transfer them
to “rocks”.
Still the conclusion is that the most probable source in the record is
that the “capable of sustaining human habitation or an economic life of
its own” language in the SNT text was loosely patterned after the
Romanian proposals. The text in Article 121 (3) expressly deals with
“capability”, a qualification based on future potential and not just exist-
ing status. Presumably evidence of a rock’s capability is demonstrated
by existing inhabitants able to survive over a period of time. Likewise,
capability could be demonstrated for an “economic life of its own” by a
variety of activities such as using the rock as a base for drying fishing
nets for use as a satellite transmission tower. The possible economic
uses are really only limited by the pragmatic imagination of those
attempting to establish that the rock is capable of generating an eco-
nomic life of its own. The words in the text admit of a broad interpreta-
tion although it is predictable that commentators will be tempted to
insert their own values or bias on what is in their minds “reasonable”.
States in real world cases may also decide to adopt pragmatic solutions
based on the facts of a particular case. State Practice at variance with
the actual text does not, however, change the text. Affected States
may ignore the text but that is an act quite different from interpreting
the text.
In the exercise of interpretation, it is a matter of judgment as to the
weight to be given to proposals which were expressly rejected at the
Conference for inclusion in Article 121. This study has shown that size
of island/rocks, number of inhabitants, location, geological configura-
tion and other “objective” factors were heatedly debated in the Second
Committee. None of the objective standards were adopted in the
final text. Perhaps the draftsmen faced an impossible task of getting
agreement on specific criteria given the diversity of opinions and
factual situations around the world. By simply resorting to “deliberate
 textual interpretation of article 1211035

ambiguity” in paragraph 3, the draftsmen took the text as far as they

could and then made a gamble that delegates would eventually give up
on seeking more precise agreement at the Conference, which is what
happened.89

89
 Former International Tribunal for the Law of Sea (ITLOS) Judge David Anderson
represented the United Kingdom at the Conference on island issues. He recently
described the British practice in a paper titled: “Islands and Rocks in the Modern Law
of the Sea” which will be published soon in the 34th Annual Proceedings of the Center
for Oceans Law and Policy, University of Virginia School of Law. Anderson concisely
but comprehensively covers the field, including the story on Rockall. Speaking of
ITLOS, Judge Hugo Caminos (Argentina) was the senior UN staff person assigned to
Committee II and Gudmundur Eiriksson (Iceland) worked under him. Both were
chefs in preparing the SNT stew but Satya Nandan (Fiji) was the chief chef in his capac-
ity as Rapporteur of the Second Committee.
 Water in the Contemporary World*

Helmut Türk

A. Introduction

Water–be it salty or sweet–is the lifeblood of all living organisms. The

endeavour of humanity to venture into outer space to search for such
organisms on other celestial bodies is in the first place a search for
water. For only if water is found on other planets may there be a chance
that some form of life exists. Regarding our planet, one might well
say that it should not be called “Earth” but rather “Water” which cov-
ers almost 71% of its surface. 97% of all water, however, is saltwater–
undrinkable unless passed through expensive and energy-intensive
desalination facilities. Most of the remaining 3% is located in polar ice
caps, glaciers, and deep underground aquifers, and is thus effectively
beyond human reach.1 Water is vital to life, there is no substitute for
it and there is no alternative choice. The only choice is how to allo-
cate water and to find the most efficient way of using it. Water is thus
immeasurably different from other economic goods.2
In view of its fundamental importance for human survival and for
human societies water enjoys a unique status reflected in municipal as
well as international law.3 Ancient Roman law already recognized that
no one, not even the sovereign, could claim title over waters com-
mon to everybody (res comunis omnium), including flowing waters.
Municipalities and other public institutions could claim title over pub-
lic waters (res publicae) and grant a right of use to others. Only a small

* This article deals with a number of important questions with respect to freshwater,
it does not, however, purport to cover all related aspects, such as navigational uses or
energy production.
1
S. C. McCaffrey, Water, Water Everywhere, But Too Few Drops to Drink: The
Coming Fresh Water Crisis and International Environmental Law, 28 Denver Journal
of International Law and Policy 325, at 329 (1999–2000).
2
M. Falkenmark as quoted by M. J. Vick, International Water Law and Sovereignty:
A Discussion of the ILC Draft Articles on the Law of Transboundary Aquifers,
21 Pacific McGeorge Global Business & Development Law Journal 191, at 204 (2008).
3
B. W. Smith, Water as a Public Good: the Status of Water under the General
Agreement on Tariffs and Trade, 17 Cardozo Journal of International and Comparative
Law 291, at 314 (2009).
1038 helmut türk

proportion was considered private waters, including “rain water,

ground water and minor water bodies”.4 Today, water is unambiguously
a public good and a disavowal of private ownership–with only minor
exceptions–is common to virtually all systems of municipal law, even
though these systems may differ with respect to the particular status
they confer on water.5 Significant water resources belong to the State,
the nation or the people.6 Private ownership of water has thus been
rejected in favour of a communitarian approach.
Public control of water also constitutes the basis for concluding
agreements with other countries, which became all the more necessary
in view of increased competition for transboundary water resources,
which may lead to disputes, and even conflicts, between States. It
should not be overlooked that, according to Eckstein, “with the excep-
tion of most island-nations, nearly every country in the world is hydro-
logically connected to its neighbors”.7 The “water law” which developed
in response to transboundary disputes emerged from decisions of
domestic and international courts or tribunals and from international
agreements.8 A long-standing, well-developed body of international
law on the non-navigational uses of watercourses,9 including the shar-
ing of water resources–reflected in numerous international agree-
ments–has developed over a long period of time. In fact, the first
recorded treaty, concluded more than 5,000 years ago, resolved a con-
flict over water.10 All water law is premised on the assumption that
water is a scarce resource which must be rationally and fairly allocated
among competing claimants.11

    4
Id., at 298–299.
    5
Id., at 305.
    6
Id., at 301.
    7
G. Eckstein, Water Scarcity, Conflict, and Security in a Climate Change World:
Challenges and Opportunities for International Law and Policy, 27 Wisconsin
International Law Journal 409, at 413 (2010), available at http://ssrn.com/abstract
=1425796. An ongoing study under the auspices of UNESCO has so far inventoried
273 international transboundary aquifers, of which 68 are found in the Americas,
38 in Africa, 65 in Eastern Europe, 90 in Western Europe, and 12 in Asia; see UNESCO
Press Release No. 2008–108, 22 October 2008.
    8
P. Wouters, The Legal response to International Water Scarcity and Water Conflicts:
The UN Watercourses Convention and Beyond, at 2 (2003), available at https://
discovery.dundee.ac.uk/bitstream/handle/10588/595/The%20Legal%20Response
%20to%20International%20Water%20Conflicts_Post%20Print.pdf?sequence=1.
    9
Smith (note 3), at 306.
10
McCaffrey, Water Scarcity: Institutional and Legal Responses as cited by
P. Wouters (note 8), at 5.
11
A. D. Tarlock, Water Security, Fear Mitigation and International Water Law,
31 Hamline Law Review 703, at 715 (2008).
 water in the contemporary world1039

In recent decades the international community has increasingly

dealt with water issues. These efforts were two-fold: first to address the
general issue of water as a precious and limited resource and its para-
mount importance for every human being, and second to lay down
rules for transboundary water resources with a view to eliminating
potential conflicts and to ensuring the utmost benefit for the relevant
populations. In 1970, the United Nations already responded to the
need for clearer rules governing transboundary waters by requesting
the International Law Commission (ILC) to codify and progressively
develop the rules applicable to the development and management of
international watercourses.12 These efforts came to fruition after intense
negotiations more than 25 years later.
Since 1972 the problems of water have been dealt with by a number
of high-level international conferences. In that year, the Stockholm
Declaration of the UN Conference on the Human Environment dealt
with the question of water in the framework of a broader global envi-
ronmental agenda. Although climate change is expected to have a
major effect on the global environment in its broader sense, one of its
earliest and most direct impacts will be on the Earth’s fresh water
systems.13 The first UN Conference on Water, held in Mar del Plata in
1977, adopted an Action Plan which already recognized safe drinking
water and sanitation as a human right. A further milestone was the
International Conference on Water and the Environment in Dublin in
1992, which acknowledged that fresh water is a finite and vulnerable
resource, essential to sustain life, development and the environment.
The UN Conference on Environment and Development in Rio de
Janeiro in 1992 called for preservation of the level of freshwater quality
and quantity and reiterated the necessity for holistic management of
freshwater. In the same year, the UN General Assembly declared
22 March to be “World Day for Water”.14
The years 1981–1990 were proclaimed the International Drinking
Water and Sanitation Decade by the UN General Assembly, and since
1997 several World Water Fora have been held. One of the goals set by

12
GA Res. 2669 (XXV) of 8 December 1970; see Wouters (note 8), at 3.
13
Eckstein (note 7), at 410.
14
 Regarding the celebration of World Water Day 2010 see http://climate-l
.org/2010/03/22/world-water-day-celebrated/?referrer=climate-l.org. While in the
past water availability has almost always taken centre stage with the attention focused
on quantity, in 2010 an important shift aims to focus on the importance of water qual-
ity for sustaining healthy ecosystems and human well-being.
1040 helmut türk

the United Nations in the 2000 Millennium Declaration was to reduce

by half by 2015 the number of people lacking access to clean drinking
water.15 The General Assembly declared 2003 as the “International Year
of Fresh Water” and proclaimed the decade between 2005–2015 as the
International Decade for Action, “Water for Life”.16

B. Water–A Limited and Sensitive Resource

The absolute quantity of water on Earth is thought to have been about

the same for billions of years. It is important to note that of the total
freshwater reserves on Earth, only 0.3% of all the water on our planet–
less than 100,000 km3–is found in rivers and lakes.17 The largest share of
freshwater available to humans is not on the surface, but underground.
It is estimated that groundwater, which has been called a “hidden treas-
ure”, makes up about 98% of the global fresh water which is not found
in polar ice caps and glaciers;18 it is the most extracted natural resource
in the world, providing more than half of humanity’s freshwater for
everyday uses as well as 20% of irrigated agriculture19 and, therefore, is
critical for meeting global water demand.
If the quantity of freshwater on Earth has not changed on an abso-
lute basis, how can it be maintained at the same time that there is a
growing scarcity? The answer is that the amount available to each indi-
vidual is shrinking as the world’s population increases. While it took all
of human history for Earth’s population to reach two and a half billion
in 1950, it took less than 40 years for it to double to 5 billion, surpassing
6 billion by the year 2000. According to United Nations’ estimates, the
world’s population will probably surpass 9 billion in 2050, with over
90% of all population increases occurring in the developing world.20

15
UN launches International Year of Sanitation to address global crisis, United
Nations Press Release of 21 November 2007; see www.sanitationyear2008.org.
16
Id.
17
S. Nicholson, Water Scarcity, Conflict, and International Water Law: An
Examination of the Regime Established by the UN Convention on International
Watercourses, 5 New Zealand Journal of Environmental Law 91, at 95 (2001).
18
Vick (note 2), at 194.
19
G. E. Eckstein, Protecting a Hidden Treasure: The U.N. International Law
Commission and the International Law of Transboundary Ground Water Resources,
5 Sustainable Development Law & Policy 5, at 5 (2005).
20
United Nations (ed.), World Population Prospects: The 2006 Revision, Vol. 1,
Comprehensive Tables; Vol. 2, Sex and Age Distribution of the World Population; and
Vol. 3, Analytical Report (2007); see also McCaffrey (note 1).
 water in the contemporary world1041

A population increase of approximately 80 million a year implies

an increase in freshwater demand of about 64 billion cubic metres
annually.21 There is, furthermore, abundant evidence that freshwater
resources are vulnerable and have the potential to be more strongly
impacted upon by climate change with wide-ranging consequences for
human societies and ecosystems.22 Many climate change proponents
have even warned that the world is heading towards a massive global
water crisis.23
In the middle of the nineteenth century, the average amount of water
available per person worldwide was 43,000 cubic metres per year; today
it is under 9,000 cubic metres. It is believed that, solely because of pop-
ulation growth, over thirty countries will in the next three decades be
under “water stress”, which is defined as there being between 1,000 and
17,000 cubic metres of available fresh water per capita; and that more
than thirty countries will be under conditions of water “scarcity”. This
means that these countries will be unable to provide 1,000 cubic metres
of water per person per year. It is estimated that by the year 2025,
thirty-five per cent of the global population will live in some fifty-two
countries suffering from “water stress” or chronic water scarcity. By
contrast, in 1990, a mere six per cent of the world’s population was liv-
ing under such conditions.24
A further major problem is water quality. Approximately 18% of the
world’s population has no safe drinking water,25 and the larger the
amount of water consumed the more wastewater is produced. In devel-
oping countries, 90% of wastewater and 70% of industrial waste runs
straight into the surface water without any form of treatment. As a
result, more than 5 million people die every year of water-related dis-
eases, ten times more than the number of victims of armed conflict.
Furthermore, it has been stated that “[i]f water use goes on increasing
at the present rate the UN estimates that in 20 years’ time 1.8 billion
people will be living in areas affected by a constant water shortage, with
5 billion others located in places where it will be difficult fully to satisfy

21
UNESCO/Earthscan (eds.), The United Nations World Water Development
Report 3, Water in a Changing World, at 29 (2009).
22
Eckstein (note 7), at 414.
23
See id., at 415.
24
McCaffrey (note 1), at 330.
25
C. Horwood, Water insecurity, Delhi: Drinking the city dry, in: Ocha-Irin/
UN-Habitat (eds.), Tomorrow’s crises today, the humanitarian impact of urbanization,
21, at 27 (2007).
1042 helmut türk

their needs”.26 By 2050, the number of people affected by water short-

ages may even rise to 3 billion.
However, it has also been pointed out that the rapidly expanding
human population does not, by itself, mean that there are insufficient
freshwater resources and that it would, therefore, be misleading to
speak of an “emerging global water crisis”27 as the world has enough
water, although it is not being properly managed. The uneven distribu-
tion of these resources is seen as the major problem leading to water
scarcity in specific regions.28 Whereas a few countries hold 60% of the
planet’s freshwater reserves, Asia–home to 60% of the world’s popula-
tion–has only 30% of the total. To make matters more difficult, it is
likely that global climate change will, in the future, lead to a further
increase in the inequities of water availability and distribution.29
According to UNESCO, this scenario “is supported by a growing body
of evidence [as] the combination of lower precipitation and higher
evaporation in many regions is diminishing water quantities in rivers,
lakes, and groundwater storage”.30
Water is also inextricably embedded in the production of and trade
in food and consumer products. This so-called “virtual water” has
major impacts on global trade policy and research, especially in water-
scarce regions, and has redefined discourse in water policy and man-
agement. National, regional and global water and food security can
thus be improved when water intensive commodities are traded from
places where they are economically viable to produce to places where
they are not. Virtual water import, via food, may be used as an alterna-
tive water “source” to reduce pressure on the scarcely available domes-
tic water resources there and in other water-short regions.31
In the course of the present century the ability to draw on unsus­
tainable water resources will come to an end. Resources such as
groundwater which, while renewable, have a limited outflow, as well as

26
UNEP-GRID-Arendal/Le monde diplomatique (eds.), Planet In Peril, An Atlas of
Current Threats to People and the Environment, at 12 (2006).
27
A. K. Biswas, Quo vadis, world of water?, in: J. Bindé (ed.), Making Peace With
The Earth, What future for the Human Species and the Planet?, 25, at 26 (2007);
see also Nicholson (note 17), at 96.
28
See id. (Nicholson).
29
Id., at 96–97.
30
UNESCO (ed.), The United Nations World Water Development Report 2, Water:
a shared responsibility, Executive Summary, at 1 (2006), available at www.unesco.org/
water/wwap.
31
Id.
 water in the contemporary world1043

non-renewable resources–so-called “fossil water”–are already over-

exploited and will probably be exhausted before the end of this century.
What is considered most serious, however, is that the depletion of
resources is likely to be greatest where water resources per capita are
already most limited, since population growth is usually substantially
higher in arid and semi-arid areas. The resource gap is therefore likely
to widen further. The lack of any link between the growth of the global
population and the distribution of water resources is certainly one of
the great paradoxes in the world.32

C. Water–A Shared Natural Resource

Watercourses, watersheds, and demands to use water obviously do not

respect national frontiers.33 One of the many singular features of water
is its “fugitive nature”; unlike mineral resources, it is in constant
motion. Rivers following their natural course often define political
boundaries or cut across them, so that many nations rely on water
sources which flow from or through other States. It has been estimated
that more than 260 of the world’s river basins are shared by two or more
countries. Close to 40% of the global population lives in these river
basins, and is therefore dependent for its daily water needs on a source
shared with people in other nations.34 Such international drainage
basins which include parts of the territories of more than one country
constitute nearly half of Earth’s land area and some 60% of both Africa
and Latin America.35
Surface and groundwater constitute part of a complex inter-related
unit. Natural or artificial occurrences which affect the water resources
in any one part of the watercourse can potentially affect the quantity or
quality of water in other parts. The relationship between upstream and
downstream States is inherently asymmetric in this regard, in that the
upstream State can, through unilateral action, upset the water supply
of a downstream State while the downstream State can make no com-
mensurate threat. The increasing scarcity of water means that those

32
Id.
33
G. G. Waite, International Law Affecting Water Rights in the Western States,
4 Land and Water Law Review 67, at 67 (1969).
34
 Nicholson (note 17), at 92.
35
McCaffrey (note 1), at 332.
1044 helmut türk

countries that possess it have economic and political power.36 As fresh-

water is often a resource shared between two or more States, water
scarcity is frequently a problem of an international nature. As the UN
Secretary-General pointed out, “Water scarcity threatens economic
and social gains […] and is a potent fuel for wars and conflicts”.37 This
is certainly true as disputes over water persist world-wide. At the same
time, however, transboundary water bodies create hydrological, social
and economic interdependencies between societies, vital for economic
development, reducing poverty and contributing to the attainment of
the Millennium Development Goals.38
Conflict over freshwater resources is frequently a topic of discussion,
and there have been warnings of future unrest between commu
nities and nations as these resources dwindle under pressure of over-
exploitation, population explosion and mismanagement.39 It has even
been said that future wars will be over water instead of oil. This dire
prediction will hopefully turn out to be baseless, particularly since
there seems to be a growing awareness that disputes over the use of a
resource common to more than one nation should be resolved by the
application of international law. Although the UN General Assembly
Resolution on Permanent Sovereignty over Natural Resources40 asserts
that every nation enjoys complete sovereignty over all natural resources
found within its jurisdiction, there is a growing consensus among
nations that transboundary water resources should no longer be deter-
mined by notions of sovereignty, but rather “by a positive spirit of
cooperation and effective interdependence”.41
As has already been pointed out, cooperation over transboundary
waters has a long history. While such waters embed the potential for
dispute and conflict, they also provide opportunities for cooperation
and the promotion of regional peace and security as well as economic
growth. Although climate change is expected to add to pressure on
transboundary water resources in many areas with fluctuations in

36
 Nicholson (note 17), at 93.
37
Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon at the Asia-Pacific Water Summit by video
link on 3 December 2007, available at http://un.org/News/Press/docs/2007/sgsm11311
.doc.htm.
38
UN Water Thematic Paper, Transboundary Waters: Sharing Benefits, Sharing
Responsibilities, at 1 (2008).
39
See Horwood (note 25), at 23.
40
GA Res. 1803 (XVII) of 14 December 1962.
41
Eckstein (note 7), at 443–444.
 water in the contemporary world1045

water availability and water quality, magnifying regional differences in

the world’s natural resources, the need to cope with that phenomenon
will also offer new opportunities for cooperation in developing adapta-
tion strategies.42
As history has often shown, the vital nature of fresh water can be a
powerful incentive for cooperation, with water more often uniting
rather than dividing peoples and societies. Since 1948, there have been
37 incidents of acute conflict over water, while during the same period
approximately 295 international water agreements were negotiated and
signed.43 Competition and conflict thus do not mean that the parties
will resort to violence.44 Averting disputes is often a strong political
incentive for initiating cooperation on transboundary waters as ripar-
ian States recognize that they must safeguard their greater common
interests.45 In recent years, there have also been increasing calls to shift
the focus of international disputes from allocation to benefit-sharing.46
It should also be noted that “[o]pportunities for mutual gain expand
the potential rewards associated with cooperation”.47

D. The Development of International Water Law48

International water law has evolved and crystallized through State

practice and the efforts of codification and progressive development
undertaken by the United Nations–through the persistent efforts of the
ILC–as well as by private institutions, particularly the International
Law Association (ILA) and the Institut de Droit International (IDI).
Treaty practice in this area encompasses a broad range of instruments,
from general agreements, providing basic principles for water resource
development, to specific “contractual type” legal and technical arrange-
ments which set out detailed operational schemes.49

42
See supra note 38, at 2.
43
Id., at 3.
44
Tarlock (note 11), at 712.
45
See supra note 38, at 3.
46
Tarlock (note 11), at 714.
47
A. Grzybowski/S. C. McCaffrey/R. K. Paisley, Beyond International Water Law:
Successfully Negotiating Mutual Gains Agreements for International Watercourses,
22 Pacific McGeorge Global Business & Development Law Journal 139, at 143 (2010).
48
For this section see also S. C. McCaffrey, The Law of International Watercourses,
Non-Navigational Uses (2001).
49
Wouters (note 8), at 10.
1046 helmut türk

The obvious importance of a reliable water supply has necessitated

the development of sophisticated sharing arrangements between States.
A large number of bilateral and multilateral treaties concerning water-
courses and their use have been elaborated. The Food and Agriculture
Organization (FAO) of the United Nations lists more than 2,000 inter-
national instruments in this area, building on principles which have
emerged from State practice.50 Nevertheless, only one third of the
world’s transboundary basins have established treaties, basin commis-
sions, or other forms of cooperative management frameworks. Even
where intergovernmental agreements exist they do not always address
today’s challenges to water management.51
The nature of water as a substance different from other natural
resources has led to the rejection of the international water law princi-
ples of absolute territorial sovereignty as asserted by upstream States–
the so-called Harmon Doctrine52–and of absolute territorial integrity
claimed by downstream States.53 Today, the theory of limited territorial
sovereignty of riparian States is largely accepted as the foundation of
the substantive rules of the law of international watercourses. These
States in exercising exclusive authority over their territory must respect
the sovereignty of other States and abstain from acts which cause dam-
age to the territory of the latter–sic utere tuo ut alienum non laedas. This
idea, combined with the principle of sovereign equality of all States,
implies that all co-riparians within their territory enjoy equal rights in
the use of the shared watercourse, so that the right of utilization of each
riparian must respect the correlative rights of other riparians and be
coordinated with them.54 Today, it can be rightly said that no State has
an unfettered right to do as it wishes with that portion of a shared
watercourse which runs through its territory.

50
 Nicholson (note 17), at 93.
51
UNEP (ed.), Challenges to International Waters, Regional Assessments in a
Global Perspective, at 12 (2006).
52
The Harmon Doctrine essentially provides that a State may do as it pleases with
the water in its territory without any legal responsibility for the injury it may inflict on
States sharing such a basin. This approach has long been obsolete and has been replaced
by the principle of equitable utilization; see S. Akweenda, From Harmon to Helsinki:
The evolution of key principles in international water law, in: A. Turton/R. Henwood
(eds.), Hydropolitics in the Developing World, A Southern African Perspective,
97 (2002); see further Vick (note 2), at 210.
53
Eckstein (note 7), at 444; see also Vick (note 2), at 210.
54
A. Tanzi/M. Arcari, The United Nations Convention on the Law of International
Watercourses: A Framework for Sharing, International and National Water Law and
Policy Series, at 14–15 (2001).
 water in the contemporary world1047

Both the ILA and the IDI placed the topic of international water-
courses on their agenda long before the United Nations’ active involve-
ment in the area. The efforts at codification by these non-governmental
organizations through the years have had a significant impact on the
development of the law of water resources.55 While the IDI seems to
have made more progress in elaborating the theoretical basis of the
topic, the ILA was more successful in systematizing, qualifying and
interpreting the principles of international watercourse law.56 In 1966 it
adopted the Helsinki Rules on the Use of Waters of International Rivers,
formulating the rule of equitable and reasonable utilization as the basic
rule of international law for the transboundary use and development of
waters.57
These Rules were updated in 2004–the Berlin Rules on Water
Resources–in order to reflect the current state of customary interna-
tional law applicable not just to the waters of an international drainage
basin but to the management of water in general. Some of the Rules
also reflect the necessity for the progressive development of the rele-
vant international law needed to cope with emerging problems of
international or global water management for the current century.58
Among the basic principles laid down in the Berlin Rules are the duties
of States to use their best efforts to manage surface waters, groundwa-
ter, and other pertinent waters in a unified and comprehensive manner
and to avoid causing significant harm to other States. Basin States have
the right to participate in the management of waters of an international
drainage basin in an equitable, reasonable, and sustainable manner and
are called upon to co-operate in good faith in the management of such
waters for the mutual benefit of the participating States. The Rules fur-
ther enshrine the precautionary approach with respect to the aquatic
environment and also provide for the right of access of every individual
to sufficient, safe, acceptable, physically accessible, and affordable water
to meet that individual’s vital human needs.59

55
Id.
56
Id., at 34.
57
International Law Association (ed.), Berlin Conference, Water Resources Law,
Fourth Report, at 3 (2004); see also International Law Association (ed.), Report of the
Seventy-first Conference held in Berlin (16–21 August 2004), Water Resources Law,
at 334–421 (2005).
58
Id.; see also J. W. Dellapenna, International Water Law in a Climate of Disruption,
17 Michigan State Journal of International Law 43, at 78–86 (2008–2009).
59
Id.; see, in particular, Arts 5–18 of the Berlin Rules on Water Resources (see supra
note 57), at 13–23.
1048 helmut türk

The adoption by the United Nations in 1997 of the “Convention on

the Law of the Non-navigational Uses of International Watercourses”–
on the basis of a draft prepared by the ILC–has been called a his-
toric moment in the development of international water law.60 The
Convention was approved by 103 votes in favour and 3 against–all
upstream States61–with 27 abstentions; another 33 member States were
absent from the vote,62 about half of them being island countries with
no apparent interest in transboundary water resources.63 The result of
the vote has been considered a high level of endorsement given the dif-
ficult and protracted negotiations leading to the finalization of the text.
Nevertheless, there are currently only 22 Parties and 16 signatories to
the Convention, which is still a far cry from the 35 States required for
its entry into force.64 It is also to be noted that riparian States of many
of the world’s major watercourses, especially those which are the sub-
ject of disputes, did not consistently vote in favour of the Convention.65
Both upper and lower riparian States have argued that there is a lack
of balance in its provisions between the rights and obligations of
these two categories of States.66 It has also been said that the text of
the Convention disfavoured upper riparian States and placed greater
burdens on them in the context of future development.67

E. The Current State of International Water Law68

Although not in force, the UN Convention on the Law of the Non-

navigational Uses of International Watercourses can nevertheless be

60
Convention on the Law of the Non-navigational Uses of International Water­
courses, 21 May 1997, 36 ILM 700 (1997) (hereinafter “Watercourses Convention”);
S. M. A. Salman, The United Nations Watercourses Convention Ten Years Later: Why
Has its Entry into Force Proven Difficult?, 32 Water International 1, at 13 (2007).
61
Turkey, China and Burundi.
62
Belgium, which was recorded as abstaining, and Fiji and Nigeria, which were
recorded as absent, subsequently announced that they had intended to vote in favour
of the Convention.
63
Wouters (note 8), at 25.
64
See International Water Law Project, Status of the Watercourses Convention,
available at www.internationalwaterlaw.org/documents/intldocs/watercourse_status
.html (last visited 15 March 2011).
65
G. Eckstein, Development of International Water Law and the UN Watercourse
Convention, in: Turton/Henwood (note 52), 81, at 86.
66
Id., at 84.
67
Id., at 87.
68
For this section see also McCaffrey (note 48).
 water in the contemporary world1049

considered the leading statement of international law regarding the

development and protection of shared water resources.69 It has been
observed that the “Convention tends to be conservative [as it] does not
really attempt a progressive development of the law beyond the Helsinki
Rules written thirty years earlier”.70 It defines “watercourse” as “a sys-
tem of surface waters and ground waters constituting by virtue of their
physical relationship a unitary whole”, thus calling the attention of all
States to the interrelationship between all parts of the system of surface
and underground waters which make up an international water-
course.71 Certain principles contained in the text may well be consid-
ered as having reached the status of accepted norms of international
law. This seems to hold true, in particular, of the principles of “equita-
ble and reasonable utilization” and of “no significant harm”–which
have substantial independent support in state practice and judicial
decisions–but also for the obligations of States to cooperate, exchange
information, and give prior notice of planned measures.72 The provi-
sions of the Convention in general encourage negotiation and coopera-
tion, given the recognition that shared watercourses are best developed
and utilized as a whole system.
As a framework treaty, the Watercourses Convention encourages
States to enter into agreements which apply to their shared resources
and adjust the Convention’s provisions to the special characteristics
and uses of a particular watercourse, but it neither affects the rights and
obligations of parties under pre-existing water agreements, nor imposes
a duty on States to adopt specific treaties compatible with its provisions
where none exist.73 It, however, mildly encourages States which become
parties to “consider harmonizing” existing agreements with the “basic
principles” of the Convention. Even without such harmonization, it

69
 Nicholson (note 17), at 93.
70
J. Dellapenna/J. Gupta, Toward Global Law on Water, 14 Global Governance 437,
at 447 (2008).
71
See Watercourses Convention Article 2; see also S. McCaffrey, The UN Convention
on the Law of the Non-Navigational Uses of International Watercourses: Prospects
and Pitfalls, in: S. M. A. Salman/L. Boisson de Chazournes (eds.), International
Watercourses: Enhancing Cooperation and Managing Conflict, World Bank Technical
Paper No. 414, 17, at 18 (1998).
72
 Nicholson (note 17), at 93–94; see also S. C. McCaffrey, The 1997 U.N. Watercourse
Convention: Retrospect and Prospect, 21 Pacific McGeorge Global Business &
Development Law Journal 165, at 170 (2008).
73
F. Loures/J. Dellapenna, Forthcoming developments in international groundwa-
ter law: proposals for the way ahead, Water Environment 21 (issue 9.4), at 58 (2007),
available at www.iwapublishing.com/pdf/W21Aug07%20groundwaterlaw.pdf.
1050 helmut türk

may be presumed that the principles reflected therein will influence the
interpretation of existing agreements.74 If an agreement is to apply to
an entire international watercourse, all States on the watercourse are
entitled to participate in the negotiation of, and to become a party to,
the agreement. In the case of agreements concerning only a part of the
watercourse or particular projects, potentially affected riparian States
may participate in consultations relating to the agreement and, where
appropriate, become a party to it.75
The principle of “equitable and reasonable utilization and participa-
tion” enshrined in Article 5 of the Convention has rightly been referred
to as the “cornerstone” of contemporary international water law.76 This
view has been reinforced by the International Court of Justice (ICJ),
which confirmed the centrality of this principle in the Gabčikovo-
Nagymaros case.77 A State must thus use an international watercourse
in a manner which is “equitable and reasonable” vis-à-vis other States
sharing that watercourse. In order to meet that standard, the use must
also be consistent with adequate protection of the watercourse from
pollution and other forms of degradation.78 As the ILC observed, the
principle of equitable and reasonable utilization “implies attaining
maximum possible benefits for all watercourse States and achieving the
greatest possible satisfaction of all their needs, while minimizing the
detriment to, or unmet needs of, each”.79 Article 5 further introduces
the new concept of “equitable participation”, the basic idea of which
is that, in order to achieve a regime of equitable and reasonable

74
See Watercourses Convention Article 3; see also S. McCaffrey/M. Sinjela, The
1997 United Nations Convention on International Watercourses, 92 American Journal
of International Law 97, at 98 (1998).
75
McCaffrey (note 71), at 19.
76
McCaffrey/Sinjela (note 74), at 99.
77
Case concerning the Gabčikovo-Nagymaros Project (Hungary v. Slovakia), ICJ
Reports 1997, 7. The Court considered “that Czechoslovakia, by unilaterally assuming
control of a shared resource, and thereby depriving Hungary of its right to an equitable
and reasonable share of the natural resources of the Danube […] failed to respect the
proportionality which is required by international law” (id., at 56). See also Eckstein
(note 65), at 89; see further R. Paisley, Adversaries into Partners: International Water
Law and the Equitable Sharing of Downstream Benefits, 3 Melbourne Journal of
International Law 280, at 284 (2002).
78
See McCaffrey/Sinjela (note 74), at 99.
79
 Yearbook of the International Law Commission 1994, Vol. II, Part 2, UN Doc.
A/CN.4/SER.A/1994/Add.1 (Part 2) (1997), at 97. See also M. S. Helal, Sharing Blue
Gold: the 1997 UN Convention on the Law of the Non-Navigational Uses of
International Watercourses Ten Years on, 18 Colorado Journal of International
Environmental Law and Policy 337, at 342 (2007).
 water in the contemporary world1051

­ tilization, riparian States must often cooperate with each other by

u
taking affirmative steps, individually or jointly, with regard to the
watercourse.80
Article 6 of the Convention sets out a non-exhaustive list of factors
to be taken into account in making the determination whether the use
of an international watercourse by an upstream State is equitable and
reasonable vis-à-vis downstream States. All relevant factors, which
include those of a natural character as well as social and economic
needs, are to be considered together. Article 9 requires riparian States
on a regular basis to exchange data and information on the conditions
of the watercourse. This underlines the importance of cooperation
between riparian States laid down as a general obligation in Article 8,
which also refers to the possibility of establishing joint mechanisms or
commissions.
The most controversial provision of the entire Convention set out in
Article 7 seems to have been the “obligation not to cause significant
harm”, closely linked to Arts. 5 and 6. The obligation under Article 7 is,
however, not a strict one; it is an obligation of conduct rather than an
obligation of result, with the express reference to “prevent” the causing
of harm underlining its anticipatory nature. Upstream States had gen-
erally favoured the equitable utilization rule of Article 5, which they
considered would give them more flexibility in making new uses of
their watercourses, while downstream States generally preferred the
no-harm rule of Article 7 on the ground that it afforded them, and
especially their established uses, greater protection. Particularly from
the drafting history of this provision it has been concluded that the no-
harm rule would not automatically override that of equitable utiliza-
tion should they come into conflict.81 If significant harm to another
watercourse State was caused, the States involved must enter into con-
sultations to eliminate or mitigate such harm and, “where appropriate”,
discuss the question of compensation. This wording has been inter-
preted as giving precedence to equitable utilization over the no-harm
doctrine.82 As the ILC pointed out in its Commentary, the term
“significant” in connection with harm is not used in the sense of
“substantial”. A requirement that a State’s use must be substantially

80
McCaffrey (note 71), at 20.
81
McCaffrey/Sinjela (note 74), at 100–101.
82
McCaffrey (note 71), at 20; see also J. W. Dellapenna (note 58), at 74.
1052 helmut türk

affected before it would be entitled to participate in consultations and

negotiations would impose too heavy a burden upon it.83
Article 10 clearly specifies that navigational uses no longer enjoy
inherent priority over non-navigational ones. It also provides that a
conflict between different kinds of uses of an international watercourse
is to be resolved with reference to Arts. 5 to 7, with special regard to be
given to the requirements of “vital human needs”. A “statement of
understanding”, accompanying the text of the Convention, indicates
that, in determining “vital human needs”, special attention is to be paid
to providing sufficient water to sustain human life, including both
drinking water and water required for the production of food in order
to prevent starvation.84
The Convention also contains a set of procedures to be followed in
relation to a new activity in one State which may have a “significant
adverse effect” upon other watercourse States, in which case timely
notification must be given to those States. The obligation to notify does
not rest solely on the shoulders of upstream States; instead it is recipro-
cal in nature: downstream States must also notify upstream States of
projects and planned measures which they intend to commence in
their portion of the watercourse.85 If the planned measures are consid-
ered inconsistent with the provisions of Article 5 or 7, consultations
and, if necessary, negotiations are to take place with a view to arriving
at an equitable resolution of the situation.86 If the matter is not resolved
to the satisfaction of any of the States concerned, the dispute settlement
procedures of Article 33 apply.87 These procedures provide for resort to
a Fact-finding Commission with the power to make recommendations
to the parties. In addition, States when becoming a party to the
Convention may declare that they accept as compulsory the submis-
sion of the dispute to the ICJ or to arbitration in accordance with the
Annex to the Convention. In view of the politically highly sensitive
issues involved in the event of a dispute, only compulsory fact-finding
is thus generally provided for, not–however–judicial resolution.
The Convention furthermore contains environmental provisions,
in particular Article 20, which lays down the obligation to “protect and

83
See supra note 79, at 96.
84
McCaffrey/Sinjela (note 74), at 103.
85
 Helal (note 71), at 5.
86
See Watercourses Convention Arts 11–19.
87
McCaffrey (note 71), at 23.
 water in the contemporary world1053

preserve the ecosystems of international watercourses”, modelled on

Article 192 of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea. As
in that provision, this obligation is not qualified as it is not predicated
on causing harm to another State. Pollution of international water-
courses is dealt with in Article 21 using the language also employed in
Article 194 (1) of the Law of the Sea Convention, which states that
riparian States must “prevent, reduce and control pollution” of interna-
tional watercourses. The obligation, however, is triggered only if the
pollution may cause significant harm to other watercourse States or
their environment.88
There are, inter alia, also provisions on conditions which may be
harmful to other watercourse States,89 such as water-borne diseases, ice
floes, siltation, erosion, salt water intrusion, drought or desertification,
which require riparian States to take all “appropriate measures” to
prevent or mitigate such conditions. In the event of emergency situa-
tions, a watercourse State within the territory of which the emergency
originates must notify other potentially affected States and competent
international organizations, and in cooperation with them immedi-
ately take all practical measures to prevent, mitigate and eliminate
“harmful effects”.90 In time of international or non-international armed
conflict, international watercourses and related facilities enjoy the pro-
tection accorded by the applicable principles and rules of international
law.91
It has been critically observed that–despite the near universal accept-
ance of the governance of transboundary waters–the applicability and
value of the principles of equitable and reasonable utilization and of no
significant harm are limited in the context of climate change. The rea-
son given is that both principles focus entirely on ensuring the rights of
nations rather than on responding to climatic variability; that they aid
in assessing liability and determining whether one State’s actions have
infringed the rights of another. The two principles, however, do not
obligate States to manage their transboundary freshwaters in a way
which minimizes climate change consequences and maximizes coun-
tries’ abilities to respond effectively to this global challenge.92

88
Id., at 24.
89
See Watercourses Convention Article 27.
90
See id., Article 28.
91
See id., Article 29.
92
See Eckstein (note 7), at 434–435.
1054 helmut türk

As the Watercourses Convention leaves important gaps and is

unclear about the applicability and appropriateness of its principles to
the management of various types of transboundary ground water
resources,93 “Draft articles on the Law of Transboundary Aquifers”
were elaborated by the ILC to provide a framework for managing aqui-
fers or aquifer systems shared by two or more countries.94 The goal of
this endeavour is to contribute to counteracting the over-exploitation
and degradation of many of the world’s transboundary aquifers and the
considerable harmful impacts on border communities, economies, and
ecosystems dependent on transboundary ground water resources.95
The mandate given to the ILC had been to codify the law on “shared
natural resources”; the Commission, however, decided to treat the law
on transboundary aquifers independently of any future work on the
issues relating to oil and natural gas.96
In 2008, the UN General Assembly took note of these Draft Articles
and decided to reconsider them in 2011 with a view to examining, inter
alia, the question of the form which might be given to them,97 whether
a legally binding or non-binding instrument. In view of the many sci-
entific and technical uncertainties regarding the nature of transbound-
ary aquifers, it was considered premature to take a final decision in this
respect. It was also pointed out that knowledge about transboundary
aquifers has increased in recent years and future practice would help
to shape the law in that field.98 Should the Draft Articles become
a legally binding instrument, there would be a need to determine
the relationship between them and the Watercourses Convention.99

93
Eckstein (note 19).
94
The text of the Draft Articles was adopted by the ILC, at its sixtieth session in
2008, and submitted to the General Assembly as a part of the Commission’s report
covering the work of that session. The report, which also contains commentaries on
the Draft Articles, appears in Report of the International Law Commission, Sixtieth
session, UN GAOR 63rd Sess., Supp. 10, UN Doc. A/63/10 (2008). Draft article 2 (a)
defines “aquifer” as a permeable water-bearing geological formation underlain by a
less permeable layer and the water contained in the saturated zone of the formation.
“Aquifer system” is defined in draft article 2 (b) as a series of two or more aquifers
which are hydraulically connected. See Annex of GA Res. 63/124 of 11 December
2008.
95
G. E. Eckstein, Commentary on the U.N. International Law Commission’s Draft
Articles on the Law of Transboundary Aquifers, 18 Colorado Journal of International
Environmental Law and Policy 537, at 538 (2007).
96
See supra note 94, at 19 (Report of the International Law Commission).
97
See supra note 94 (GA Res.).
98
See G. Hafner, Delegate of Austria, at the 63rd session of the General Assembly,
Sixth Committee, 27 October 2008, UN Doc. A/C.6/63/SR.16 (2008), at 7–8.
99
Vick (note 2), at 203.
 water in the contemporary world1055

The view has also been put forward that a protocol to that Conven­
tion bringing all international freshwaters within its scope would
suffice.100
The Draft Articles centre on the use of water resources contained in
aquifers and also refer to activities which have had or are likely to have
an impact on aquifers or aquifer systems. Their scope thus goes beyond
that of the Watercourses Convention. This wider ambit has been justi-
fied by the special vulnerability of groundwater to contamination by
other external activities.101 The water dealt with by the Draft Articles is
essentially fresh water, but the Articles also apply to aquifers holding
brackish water and coastal aquifers, which discharge into the sea, inter-
facing with salt-water.102
The structure and provisions of the Draft Articles basically track
those of the Watercourse Convention.103 The general principles laid
down with respect to transboundary aquifers or aquifer systems essen-
tially correspond to those regarding international watercourses, which
are equitable and reasonable utilization, obligation not to cause signifi-
cant harm, a general obligation to cooperate, the regular exchange of
data and information, and bilateral and regional agreements and
arrangements. There are further provisions on the protection and pres-
ervation of ecosystems, the prevention, reduction and control of pollu-
tion, and emergency situations.104 It is interesting to note that, with
respect to pollution, the term “precautionary approach” rather than
“precautionary principle” has been used by the ILC since it was consid-
ered “as a less disputed formulation”, although it was understood that
the two terms produce similar results in practice when applied in good
faith.105 In the event of planned activities which may affect a trans-
boundary aquifer or aquifer system, timely notification to a State which
may suffer a “significant adverse effect” is required. In case of disagree-
ment between the notifying and the notified States on the possible
effects of the planned activity, the utilization of an independent fact-
finding body is provided only as a possible option and not as compul-
sory, as in the case of international watercourses.106

100
Id., at 193.
101
See Vargas Carreño, Chairman of the ILC, supra note 98, at 3.
102
See Commentary of the ILC to Draft Article 2 (supra note 94), at 36.
103
Vick (note 2), at 192.
104
See Draft Articles 4 to 12.
105
See Vargas Carreño, supra note 98, at 4.
106
See Draft Article 15.
1056 helmut türk

The Draft Articles also contain a provision regarding the sover-

eignty of an aquifer State over the portion of a transboundary aquifer
or aquifer system located within its territory. The exercise of sover-
eignty is subject to international law and the Draft Articles them-
selves.107 It is to be noted that such a clause is not to be found in the
Watercourses Convention; its insertion into the Draft Articles on
transboundary aquifers may have been motivated by a characterization
of groundwater as a resource similar to oil and natural gas. Freshwater
is not, however, an economic good in the same sense.108
Global international instruments on water are particularly well
suited to providing general guidance for States with respect to this sen-
sitive area. Apart from bilateral agreements, specific problems are often
better dealt with at a regional level, taking into account the special
characteristics of a particular geographical area and the needs of its
inhabitants. In this context, the UNECE Water Convention,109 the 1995
Protocol on the Shared Watercourse Systems in the South African
Development Community Region and the 1995 Agreement on the
Cooperation for the Sustainable Development of the Mekong River
Basin deserve special mention. The drafting of the latter two agree-
ments has been influenced by the Draft Articles elaborated by the ILC,
which were to form the basis for the Watercourses Convention.110 The
aforementioned Protocol was revised in 2000 to embrace the rule of
equitable utilization.111
The UNECE Water Convention entered into force in 1996 and, to
date, has been adhered to by 38 States and the European Union.112 It is
one of the most successful treaties on water resources.113 In 2003, that
Convention was amended to allow for accession by countries outside
the UNECE region, thus inviting the rest of the world to use the
Convention’s legal framework and to benefit from its experience.

107
See Draft Article 3.
108
Vick (note 2), at 208, 204.
109
See United Nations Economic Commission for Europe, Convention on the
Protection and Use of Transboundary Watercourses and International Lakes (The
UNECE Water Convention), 17 March 1992, UNTS Vol. 1936 No. 33207, available at
www.unece.org/env/water.
110
McCaffrey/Sinjela (note 74), at 106.
111
Dellapenna (note 58), at 71.
112
See the status of the Convention, available at http://treaties.un.org/Pages/
ViewDetails.aspx?src=TREATY&mtdsg_no=XXVII-5&chapter=27&lang=en
(last visited 15 March 2011).
113
See supra note 21, at 51.
 water in the contemporary world1057

The entry into force of this amendment will be of particular impor-

tance for countries bordering the UNECE region.114 The Convention,
which enshrines the precautionary principle and the polluter-pays
principle, is intended to strengthen national measures for the protec-
tion and ecologically sound management of transboundary surface
waters and groundwater. It takes a holistic approach based on the
understanding that water resources play an integral part in ecosystems
as well as in human societies and economies. Parties are obliged to pre-
vent, control, and reduce water pollution and there are also provisions
for monitoring, research and development, consultations, warning and
alarm systems, mutual assistance, institutional arrangements, and the
exchange and protection of information.
Under this Convention a Protocol on Water and Health was adopted
in 1999 and came into operation in 2005. This Protocol, which has
36 Signatories and 24 Parties, is the first international agreement of its
kind adopted specifically to achieve an adequate supply of safe drink-
ing water and adequate sanitation for everyone, and effectively protect
water used as a source of drinking water.115

F. A Human Right to Water116

Today, the right to water is widely considered an independent human

right, existing without the need for any legal recognition. Although
this right has not been explicitly recognized as a separate fundamental
right in either the International Covenant on Civil and Political
Rights117 or the International Covenant on Economic, Social and

114
These countries include Afghanistan, China and Iran; see Convention on the
Protection and Use of Transboundary Watercourses and International Lakes (supra
note 109).
115
See Protocol on Water and Health to the 1992 Convention on the Protection
and Use of Transboundary Watercourses and International Lakes, 17 June 1999,
UNTS Vol. 2331 No. 33207, available at http://treaties.un.org/Pages/ViewDetails.aspx
?src=TREATY&mtdsg_no=XXVII-5-a&chapter=27&lang=en (last visited 15 March
2011).
116
For this section see D. Ziganshina, Rethinking the Concept of the Human Rights
to Water, 6 Santa Clara Journal of International Law 113 (2008); see further
J. Scanlon/A. Cassar/N. Nemes, Water as a Human Right?, IUCN Environmental
Policy and Law Paper No. 51 (2004), available at http://data.iucn.org/dbtw-wpd/edocs/
EPLP-051.pdf.
117
International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, 16 December 1966, UNTS
Vol. 999 No. 14668, 6 ILM 368 (1967).
1058 helmut türk

Cultural Rights,118 it is treated as an element of the rights enshrined in

these instruments through the recognition of other basic rights. These
rights include the right to life, the right to adequate housing, the right
to food, the right to health, the right to development, and the right to
work.119 In addition to the implied recognition of a right to water in
these major human rights instruments, there are several other legally
binding documents, including the Convention on the Elimination of
All Forms of Discrimination Against Women,120 the Convention on the
Rights of the Child121 and the Protocol on Water and Health to the 1992
Convention on the Protection and Use of Transboundary Watercourses
and International Lakes,122 which explicitly recognize a right to have
access to drinking water.123 In addition, several UN General Assembly
and Commission on Human Rights resolutions have already referred
to clean water as a human right.124
The most complete definition of a human right to water, its scope
and normative content is contained in General Comment No. 15 of
the UN Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights of
2002.125 It is defined therein as “the right of everyone to sufficient,
safe, acceptable, physically accessible and affordable water for personal
and domestic uses”. According to the Committee, the “right to water”
emanates from and is indispensable for an adequate standard of
living and is one of the most fundamental conditions for survival.126
The Committee also noted that this right is “implicitly” consecrated

118
International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, 16 December
1966, UNTS Vol. 993 No. 14531, 6 ILM 360 (1967).
119
Ziganshina (note 116), at 114.
120
Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women,
18 December 1979, Article 14, UNTS Vol. 1249 No. 20378.
121
Convention on the Rights of the Child, 20 November 1989, Article 24, UNTS
Vol. 1577 No. 27531.
122
Protocol on Water and Health to the 1992 Convention on the Protection and
Use of Transboundary Watercourses and International Lakes (see supra note 115),
Article 6.
123
Ziganshina (note 116), at 114–115.
124
For example, GA Res. 54/175 of 15 February 2000, para. 12 (a), Commission on
Human Rights Res. 2004/17 of 16 April 2004 and Res. 2005/15 of 14 April 2005.
125
See Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (CESCR), General
Comment No. 15 on the right to water, UN Doc. E/C.12/2002/11 (2003), para. 3; see
also Ziganshina (note 116), at 115.
126
See also M. Woodhouse, Threshold, Reporting, and Accountability for a Right to
Water Under International Law, 8 University of Denver Water Law Review 171, at 172
(2004–2005).
 water in the contemporary world1059

in the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural

Rights.127
At the regional level, the African Charter on the Rights and Welfare
of the Child and the Protocol to the African Charter on Human and
People’s Rights on the Rights of Women in Africa include specific pro-
visions on access to water.128 Furthermore, the Abuja Declaration,
adopted by 53 African and 12 South American States at the first Africa-
South America Summit in 2006, commits to promoting “the right of
our citizens to have access to clean and safe water and sanitation within
our respective jurisdictions”.129 The “Message from Beppu”, adopted by
37 States from the wider Asia-Pacific region at the first Asia-Pacific
Water Summit held in Japan in 2007, recognizes “the people’s right to
safe drinking water and basic sanitation as a basic human right and a
fundamental aspect of human security”. Similarly, the Delhi Declaration,
adopted by eight South Asian States at the Third South Asian Conference
on Sanitation (SACOSAN III) in 2008, recognizes “that access to sani-
tation and safe drinking water is a basic right”. A right to water has
furthermore been enshrined in several national legal systems.130
In 2008, the UN Human Rights Council–by consensus–adopted a
Resolution on “Human Rights and access to safe drinking water and
sanitation”, which established an “independent expert” to identify, pro-
mote and exchange best practices relating to access to safe drinking
water and sanitation, and to carry out further clarification of the con-
tent of human rights obligations, including non-discrimination in rela-
tion to access to safe drinking water and sanitation. The Resolution

127
 Referring to the general comment No. 15 of the CESCR, de Albuquerque states
that “the right to water is consecrated in article 11 of the International Covenant on
Economic, Social and Cultural Rights […], since that provision uses an open formula-
tion as it guarantees the ‘right of everyone to an adequate standard of living for himself
and his family, including adequate food, clothing and housing, and to the continuous
improvement of living conditions’. The word ‘including’ would mean, according to the
Committee, that the catalogue of rights contained in article 11 was not intended to be
exhaustive”, Report of the independent expert on the issue of human rights obligations
related to access to safe drinking water and sanitation, Catarina de Albuquerque, UN
Doc. A/HRC/10/6 (2009), para. 15.
128
See Report of the independent expert, UN Doc. A/HRC/12/24 (2009), para. 16.
129
Id.; see also www.africa-union.org/root/AU/Conferences/Past/2006/November/
SummitASA/summit.htm; www.apwf.org/project/result.html; www.ddws.nic.in/
infosacosan/ppt/Delhi%20Declaration%207.pdf (last visited 15 March 2011).
130
For instance in Algeria, Belgium, Democratic Republic of Congo, Ecuador,
France, South Africa, Uganda, Ukraine and Uruguay. See supra note 128, para. 18.
1060 helmut türk

also recalls that international human rights law instruments entail obli-
gations in relation to such access.131
A further important milestone was the adoption by the UN General
Assembly of Resolution 64/292–“The human right to water and
sanitation”–on 28 July 2010, which recognized “the right to safe and
clean drinking water and sanitation as a human right that is essential
for the full enjoyment of life and all human rights”. The General
Assembly further called upon States and international organizations to
provide financial resources and other forms of assistance, in particular
to developing countries, in order to “scale up” efforts to provide safe,
clean, accessible and affordable drinking water and sanitation for all.132
This resolution was not, however, adopted by consensus, but by a
recorded vote of 122 in favour, none against, and 41 abstentions–mostly
developed countries. It thus fell far short of enjoying unanimous sup-
port among States, although the text had been orally amended before
the vote by replacing the word “declares” with “recognizes”. The reasons
for the large number of abstentions were related to disappointment
that no consensus could be achieved, concern that the ongoing work in
the Human Rights Council could even be undermined, and that the
legal implications of a declared right to water had not yet been fully
considered.133
In any case, the realization of a right to water is at present far from
being assured in many regions of the world. There is a lack of access
to safe drinking water in many developing countries affecting nearly
900 million people.134 This is not necessarily the effect of a scarcity of
water resources as the lowest rates of access are found in countries with
plentiful water supplies, such as those in Central Africa or parts of
Latin America. There is also no relationship between the degree of
undernourishment in a country and the degree of water scarcity. It may
seem a paradox, but the most undernourished populations are found

131
See Human Rights Council Resolution 7/22 of 28 March 2008, available at
http://ap.ohchr.org/Documents/E/HRC/resolutions/A_HRC_RES_7_22.pdf. For
more information on the legal basis of the right to water and sanitation see: The Human
Right to Water and Sanitation: Legal Basis, Practical Rationale and Definition, availa-
ble at www.wsscc.org/sites/default/files/publications/cohre_legal_basis_for_right_to
_water_and_sanitation_2008.pdf.
132
See GA Res. 64/292 of 3 August 2010, operative paras. 2 and 3.
133
www.un.org/News/Press/docs/2010/ga10967.doc.htm.
134
See Human Rights Council Res. 12/8 of 1 October 2009, Human rights and
access to safe drinking water and sanitation, UN Doc. A/HRC/RES/12/8 (2009),
preambular para. 6.
 water in the contemporary world1061

for the most part in countries with plentiful water resources, and there
is no relationship between water resources, whether plentiful or scarce,
and the population’s rate of access to drinking water.135 The problem is
essentially linked to poverty and under-development as well as to fail-
ures of governance. Its solution certainly poses financial problems, but
not technical ones since the main requirement seems to be political
will.136

G. Conclusion

As water is essential to facing today’s global challenges, the question

arises: what can be done to tackle the many-faceted problems relating
thereto? There is certainly no single solution, but only a range of varied
measures taking into account the conditions of each country and link-
ing approaches based on the supply and the management of demand.
Policy options should, however, not be confined to actions which target
natural and physical processes, but also consider the human dimen-
sions of water use. It seems first and foremost to be necessary to reduce
the impacts of water scarcity and habitat degradation by developing
international governance frameworks for equitable water allocation in
accordance with the UN Convention on the Law of the Non-
navigational Uses of International Watercourses. Basin-wide manage-
ment for the sustainable use of transboundary rivers would seem to be
highly important, with disputes and conflicts over water use being
resolved through common strategies and commitments between
upstream and downstream States.137
Although traditionally water disputes have been resolved by a treaty
or another less stringent document, institutions to deal with changing
conditions in the basin have not been established. Treaties can either
divide the waters among riparian nations or merely promise future
cooperation. Fixed allocations are, however, relatively rare and many of
those existing are increasingly criticized as being inequitable, as they
lack environmental protection provisions, are out of date in light of
advances in hydrology and global climate change and do not take into
account uneven population growth.138

135
J. Margat, Which crises in the 21st century?, in: Bindé (note 27), 49, at 50.
136
Id.
137
UNEP (note 51).
138
Tarlock (note 11), at 723–724.
1062 helmut türk

The general consensus in the international water community is that

the majority of such treaties, especially in the developing world, are not
robust, particularly because they lack long-term management proce-
dures and provide inadequate dispute resolution. More permanent,
functioning basin management institutions with the capacity to build
sufficient trust among the parties to permit adaptation to new condi-
tions and demands for water use are therefore needed.139 The Global
Water Partnership Technical Committee stated that the “[c]reation of
an integrated water resources management (IWRM) and water effi-
ciency strategy ensures that countries get the most from these [neces-
sary] investments [in water infrastructure], that benefits are equitably
distributed, and that gains are sustainable and not bought at the price
of ecosystem health”.140 By following a holistic basin approach to the
management of a transboundary watercourse, countries of each basin
will also be better able to respond to the challenges of climate change.141
At the present time, it cannot be predicted if and when the
Watercourses Convention will enter into force. It has rightly been
pointed out, however, that this Convention has had a remarkable
record of influence since its conclusion in 1997. As already mentioned,
the ICJ relied upon it in a case before it, and States have had recourse to
the Convention and its preparatory work in negotiating treaties relat-
ing to international watercourses, drawing upon the principles–and
sometimes even the language–of the Convention itself in these trea-
ties.142 It is to be hoped that this trend will continue and become even
stronger in the future.
Apart from treaties on sharing freshwater resources, another impor-
tant measure would seem to be the increasing import of “virtual water”
which today already represents one-third of the total annual volume of
blue water used in the world. Despite the economic limitations of these
invisible water transfers, they seem to be the most practicable and also
most globally applicable means of correcting the imbalances between
the distribution of resources and water needs worldwide. It must fur-
ther be emphasized that significant progress is still possible regarding

139
Id.
140
The Global Water Partnership (GWP) Technical Committee (ed.), Catalyzing
Change: A handbook for developing integrated water resources management (IWRM)
and water efficiency strategies, Background Paper No. 5, at 4 (2004), available at www
.un.org/esa/sustdev/csd/csd13/documents/bground_5.pdf.
141
Eckstein (note 7), at 440.
142
McCaffrey (note 72), at 172; see also Salman (note 61), at 13–14.
 water in the contemporary world1063

efficiency of water use. Improved policies, particularly for achieving

increased user efficiency, need to be implemented gradually on a
regional scale, rather than a national one.143 There is already a percep-
tible trend in developing countries for the demand for water to become
increasingly decoupled from the state of the economy and population
growth. This trend could become more marked in the future as coun-
tries become progressively more developed.144
The explicit recognition of a “right to water” within a universal,
legally binding human rights instrument would certainly dispel any
doubts whether it already constitutes a human right. The obligations
deriving from such a right, which would have to be implemented in
domestic legislation, would become more clear-cut with violations
becoming evident. It has also been pointed out that acknowledgment
of a human right to water in a binding instrument would help to focus
attention on the resolution of conflicts over the use of shared water-
courses.145 It should be further noted that the Optional Protocol to the
International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights,
opened for signature in 2009, allows individuals to seek redress from
the Committee of Economic, Social and Cultural Rights in the case of
alleged violations of the Covenant.146 This complaints mechanism,
which will become operational after 10 countries have adhered to the
Optional Protocol,147 may also eventually lead to the affirmation of the
existence of a human right to water.
It is obvious that sustaining the Earth’s water resources and assuring
their equitable distribution among the world’s population is in the
common interest of all the members of the international community.
The principle of solidarity, which strives for the amelioration of oppor-
tunities or possibilities of particular States in comparison to others, has
rightly been referred to as an emerging structural principle of interna-
tional law. The protection of a common good such as fresh water–
essential for the survival of mankind–is an excellent example of the
need for such a principle.148

143
Margat (note 135), at 52.
144
Id., at 52–53.
145
See Scanlon/Cassar/Nemes (note 116), at 21–23.
146
See GA Res. 63/117 of 10 December 2008.
147
To date, three states have become parties (Ecuador, Mongolia, Spain), see http://
treaties.un.org/Pages/Vie wDetails.aspx?src=TREAT Y&mtdsg_no=IV-3
-a&chapter=4&lang=en (last visited 15 March 2011).
148
See R. Wolfrum, Solidarity Amongst States: An Emerging Structural Principle of
International Law, 49 Indian Journal of International Law 8, at 8 and 10 (2009).
1064 helmut türk

There is still enough water for everyone. The problem we face today
is largely one of governance–equitably sharing this water while ensur-
ing the sustainability of natural ecosystems. At this point in time, this
balance has not yet been achieved.149 The world’s water problems thus
seem to be solvable. There are already the knowledge, experience, tech-
nology and legal framework to solve them. If we fail to do so, the fault
will lie, in the words of Shakespeare’s Brutus, “not in our stars, but in
ourselves”.150

149
See supra note 30, at 3.
150
Biswas (note 27), at 36.
 A Question of Sovereignty? Submissions to
the Commission on the Limits of the Continental
Shelf and Marine Protected Areas

Ingo Winkelmann*

Throughout his career, the work of Rüdiger Wolfrum has been charac­
terized by the high professional standards that he himself set and by
his readiness to tackle issues which, in addition to their legal com­
plexity, have a considerable political impact. He always managed to
strike a subtle balance between formal legal logic and political prag­
matism. Recent questions concerning the relationship between sub­
missions to the Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf
(CLCS) and marine protected areas beyond national jurisdiction
belong to a category which demands just such a balance. They also
touch upon issues which have benefited greatly from Rüdiger Wolfrum’s
considerable insight and dedication ever since he wrote his semi­
nal work on the “Internationalisierung staatsfreier Räume” in the early
1980s.1
This contribution will examine the extent to which a submission
made to the Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf
may have a negative impact on any marine protected areas which
overlap with the area covered by the submission. Part A of this paper
outlines a specific case which has recently arisen within the context
of the Convention for the Protection of the Marine Environment of
the North-East Atlantic (OSPAR). Part B reflects the political solu­
tion found within this organization, part C contains comments on
the concept of marine protected areas in areas beyond national juris­
diction, and part D analyses the existing approaches to resolving poten­
tial collisions between continental shelf submissions and marine

* The opinions given in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily
reflect those of the Federal Foreign Office or other government offices.
1
R. Wolfrum, Die Internationalisierung staatsfreier Räume (1984); as one more
example among many others, see R. Wolfrum, in: W. Graf Vitzthum (ed.), Handbuch
des Seerechts, Chapter 4: Hohe See und Tiefseeboden (Gebiet), 287 (2006).
1066 ingo winkelmann

protected areas. The final part E will be dedicated to a preliminary legal

assessment.

A. The Concrete Case: the Charlie Gibbs Fracture Zone

In 2009, unexpected questions arose with regard to an area about to

be designated a marine protected area by the Member States of the
Convention for the Protection of the Marine Environment of the
North-East Atlantic (OSPAR). The debate was triggered by a submis­
sion of continental shelf data by Iceland to the Commission on the
Limits of the Continental Shelf 2 containing new outer continental shelf
limits (Table 1), on the basis of which Iceland withdrew its support for
the establishment of the marine protected area (MPA) under discus­
sion. As a result, a far smaller MPA was established than had originally
been planned.

I. Location of the Area

The projected area, known as the Charlie Gibbs Fracture Zone (CGFZ),
lies in an area beyond national jurisdiction (ABNJ). The area does not
form part of a coastal zone, nor does it lie in the exclusive economic
zone of any coastal state. The CGFZ covers an area of 323,900 km2 and
is located in the northern part of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge.3 The area
comprises the Faraday (1251 km2) and Hecate (358 km2) seamounts,
and in the north a section of the Reykjanes Ridge (20644 km2), where
bottom trawling and fishing with static gear, including bottom set gill­
nets and longlines, was prohibited from 2004 until the end of December
2009.4 The proposed MPA was significantly larger than current NEAFC5
closures, with the purpose of covering a coherent area which includes
all the relevant biogeographical regions and a wide range of habitats, as
well as bypassing the general lack of knowledge about deep-sea habitats
by implementing the precautionary principle.

2
See infra A. III.
3
The original coordinates proposed for the boundaries of the MPA were: Latitude
N Longitude W, 55o 37o W, 55o 32o W, 53.5o 32o W, 53.5o 27o W, 49o 27o W, 49o 32o
W, 51o 32o W, 51o 37o W, 55o 37o W; data and description of the area taken from
OSPAR Doc. 09/6/5-E (2009).
4
 NEAFC Recommendation VII (2008).
5
 North-East Atlantic Fisheries Commission.
 a question of sovereignty?1067

Table 1: CGFZ and shelf claims

Source: Bundesamt für Naturschutz, Außenstelle Insel Vilm, Fachgebiet Meeres- und
Küstennaturschutz, 2010.

The boundaries take in a variety of seamount communities of differ­

ent sizes and depths, as well as three deep east-west trenches, the
fracture zones. Overall, the summit depth of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge
peaks increases from north to south. Within the proposed MPA,
areas were mapped which could potentially be fished (from 500m to
2000m).
The Mid-Atlantic Ridge is the major topographical feature of the
Atlantic Ocean extending, within the OSPAR Maritime Area, from
the Lomonossov Ridge in the Arctic Ocean to its southern boundary.
Rising from bathyal and abyssal depths, the Mid-Atlantic Ridge domi­
nates the seafloor topography in the high seas of the OSPAR region.
The topography is highly differentiated with depths ranging from
4,500m in the deepest channel to only 700–800m on top of adjacent
seamounts.
The relief of the axial part is formed by systems of separated volcanic
rocky mountains. More than 170 seamounts with summit depths of
less than 1,500m were found in the northern part of the Mid-Atlantic
Ridge. Apart from the rocky and mountainous areas, there are also
extensive areas of soft sediment, in particular at greater depths.
1068 ingo winkelmann

II. OSPAR and its Strategy towards Marine Protected Areas

The Charlie Gibbs Fracture Zone is a pioneering MPA project in an
ABNJ for OSPAR and its 16 Contracting Parties–Belgium, Denmark,
the European Community, Finland, France, Germany, Iceland, Ireland,
Luxembourg, the Netherlands, Norway, Portugal, Spain, Sweden,
Switzerland and the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern
Ireland. From the organization’s earliest days, the OSPAR Commission
and the Contracting Parties have pursued an active policy of establish­
ing a network of marine protected areas. Marine protected areas
may be located within or beyond national jurisdiction, although today
only 0.51% of the 4,600 globally recognized MPAs are located outside
national waters.6
The Parties’ general obligations under the OSPAR Convention7 are
set out in its Article 2 and include the taking of all possible steps to
prevent and eliminate pollution, as well as necessary measures to pro­
tect the maritime area against the adverse effects of human activities so
as to safeguard human health and to conserve marine ecosystems and,
when practicable, restore marine areas which have been adversely
affected. In addition to Article 2 (1), the OSPAR MPAs policy is based
on Annex V on the Protection and Conservation of the Ecosystems
and Biological Diversity of the Maritime Area, and in particular its
Article 3 (1) (b) (ii), which imposes a duty on the OSPAR Commission
to develop means, consistent with international law, for instituting pro­
tective, conservation, restorative or precautionary measures relating to
specific areas or sites or relating to specific species or habitats. These
OSPAR rules oblige Contracting Parties to protect biodiversity in
ABNJ. OSPAR can certainly be said to have the competence to set up a
process to designate and establish a network of MPAs in ABNJ in the
Convention area, identify features to be protected, set conservation
objectives and prescribe relevant measures, as well as to adopt meas­
ures for those human uses for which competence is identified or to
co-operate with the competent authorities where such an organization
or organizations are in place.

6
See UNEP/WCMC/C. Corrigan/F. Kershaw, Working Toward High Seas Marine
Protected Areas: An Assessment of Progress Made and Recommendations for
Collaboration, at 4 (2008).
7
22 September 1992, 32 ILM 1069 (1993); the Convention entered into force on 25
March 1998.
 a question of sovereignty?1069

In 2003, OSPAR agreed to the objective of establishing an extensive

and consistent network of MPAs by 2010 and adopted Guidelines for
the Identification and Selection of Marine Protected Areas in the OSPAR
Maritime Area as well as Guidelines for the Management of Marine
Protected Areas in the OSPAR Maritime Area.8 MPAs were to be used to
provide protective, conservation, restorative or precautionary meas­
ures, consistent with international law, for the purpose of protecting
and conserving species, habitats, ecosystems or ecological processes of
the marine environment.
The establishment of the CGFZ MPA, a key element of the envisaged
network of MPAs (in particular in ABNJ), was approved in principle at
a meeting of OSPAR Contracting Parties in June 2008. The proposed
boundaries of the CGFZ MPA reflected a scientific agreement reached
at an OSPAR meeting in April 2008.9 The MPA would be subject to
good governance, sustainable utilization, and adequate regulations in
order to attain a limited number of general conservation objectives
such as: protecting the range of habitats and ecosystems, preventing the
loss of biodiversity and providing a refuge for wildlife.

III. The Icelandic Submission

A few months after this approval in principle, Iceland completed its
preliminary collection of data concerning possible new limits to its
outer continental shelf. On 29 April 2009, Iceland submitted to the
Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf information on the
limits of the Icelandic continental shelf beyond 200 nautical miles. This
encompassed the area of the Reykjanes ridge, thus including parts of
the seabed in the proposed CGFZ MPA.10 Following this submission,
the official position of Iceland–which had so far been supportive of
establishing an extensive marine protected area–changed.

    8
OSPAR Recommendation 2003/3; Guidelines for the Identification and Selection
of Marine Protected Areas in the OSPAR Maritime Area; Guidelines for the
Management of Marine Protected Areas in the OSPAR Maritime Area, the latter
adopted by the OSPAR Commission on 27 June 2003.
    9
Fully incorporating representative sections of the MAR north and south of the
CGFZ.
10
See Ministry for Foreign Affairs (Reykjavik), The Icelandic Continental Shelf,
Partial Submission to the Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf pursu­
ant to article 76, paragraph 8 of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea
in respect of the Ægir Basin area and Reykjanes Ridge, Part I, Executive Summary
(2009).
1070 ingo winkelmann

At an OSPAR meeting in Brussels in June 2009, Iceland made an oral

statement on its submission to the Commission. It expressed the view
that OSPAR does not have the competence to establish MPAs in areas
under the national jurisdiction of its Contracting Parties. Doing so
would be in violation of the rights of coastal states which were secured
under UNCLOS. In Iceland’s view, the CGFZ MPA should not include
the seabed area covered by the Icelandic submission.11 Since the origi­
nal CGFZ MPA had previously been identified but not yet formally
endorsed, it became clear that it could now be established only with the
consent of all OSPAR Contracting Parties, including Iceland. Tradi­
tionally, OSPAR takes its decisions on the basis of consensus.12

B. The Political Solution Found within OSPAR

OSPAR Contracting Parties established a Working Group to deal with

the new situation.13 This Working Group soon found itself unable to
reach a clear consensus on the best way of establishing the CGFZ-
Marine Protected Area (CG-MPA). However, the Working Group
managed to identify accommodating mechanisms in the form of three
options:
– Option 1 consisted of establishing an OSPAR MPA in ABNJ cover­
ing the seabed and superjacent waters in the part of the proposed
CGFZ MPA where the seabed is not subject to Iceland’s submission;14
– Option 2 consisted of establishing an OSPAR MPA covering the sea­
bed and superjacent waters of the CGFZ area agreed as a potential
MPA by OSPAR in 2008;15
– Finally, option 3 consisted of establishing an OSPAR MPA in ABNJ
covering the seabed which is not subject to Iceland’s submission and
the waters superjacent to the whole CGFZ area.16

11
See OSPAR Commission Summary Record of 22–26 June 2009, OSPAR Doc.
09/22/1-E, at 6.10.
12
Article 13 (1) OSPAR Convention.
13
WG-Charlie.
14
In favour: Iceland, Norway; option to consider: France, Sweden, UK; not in
favour: Germany, the Netherlands.
15
In favour: France, Germany, the Netherlands; option to consider: Sweden; not in
favour: Iceland.
16
Option to consider: France, Germany, Sweden, UK; not in favour: Iceland, the
Netherlands. The reflected preferences are taken from OSPAR Secretariat paper of 11
November 2009 (WG-Charlie).
 a question of sovereignty?1071

At the OSPAR Ministerial meeting in Bergen in 2010 a solution was

found along the lines of option 1 as the common minimum all
Contracting Parties could–at least politically–agree to. OSPAR decided
“to establish the Charlie-Gibbs South Marine Protected Area with the
goal of protecting and conserving the biodiversity and ecosystems of
the seabed and the superjacent waters of the site in accordance with
the conservation objectives set out in OSPAR Recommendation
2010/13 on the Management of the Charlie-Gibbs South Marine
Protected Area. This Decision shall apply without prejudice to the
rights and obligations of coastal States, other States and international
organizations in accordance with UNCLOS and customary interna­
tional law. […] The Charlie-Gibbs South Marine Protected Area in
an area of 145,420 km2 […] is established as a component of the
OSPAR Network of Marine Protected Areas.”17 It became clear that the
Contracting Parties had chosen the only option that took account of
Iceland’s concerns, which others now shared. The decision limited the
MPA to its southern part, excluding the northern part which over­
lapped with the Icelandic submission. The new Charlie-Gibbs South
Marine Protected Area (MPSA) was thus considerably smaller than the
area initially envisaged–only 145,420 km2, in contrast to the original
323,900 km2.18
The Contracting Parties further committed themselves to resolving
by 2012 any outstanding issues with regard to the high seas of the
northern part of the CGFZ MPA as originally proposed and, while this
work continued, to endeavour, when conducting or authorizing activi­
ties in this northern part, to ensure that the conservation objectives for
the CGFZ were not jeopardized.19

C. The Concept of Marine Protected Areas in

Areas beyond National Jurisdiction

Although OSPAR is a key player in the MPA strategy, a considera­

ble number of other international organizations contribute to the
protection of biodiversity and ecosystems in ABNJ through a variety of

17
OSPAR Decision 2010/2 of 20–24 September 2010 (Annex 37 (Ref. M5.2)).
18
See supra A. I., in particular note 3.
19
OSPAR Commission, summary record, OSPAR/MMC 2010, Doc. 10/23/1-E Para
5.16 b) and c). See also supra A II (at the end).
1072 ingo winkelmann

measures and activities.20 Of the main political and legal instruments

that support this strategy, the following deserve particular mention:

I. The World Summit on Sustainable Development

OSPAR frequently refers to the commitment contained in the report
of the World Summit on Sustainable Development21 “to promote the
conservation and management of the oceans through actions at all
levels, giving due regard to the relevant international instruments to
develop and facilitate the use of diverse approaches and tools, includ­
ing the ecosystem approach, the elimination of destructive fishing
practices, the establishment of marine protected areas consistent with
international law and based on scientific information, including repre­
sentative networks by 2012”. The Plan of Implementation of the Summit
reaffirmed this objective in Arts. 8 and 32 a) and c).22

II. The Convention on Biological Diversity of 1992

The Convention on Biological Diversity of 199223 (CBD) deals specifi­
cally with biodiversity protection. In 1995, the Conference of Parties
adopted the Jakarta Mandate on Marine and Coastal Biodiversity
under which parties are by 2012 to establish a global network of
Marine Protected Areas, building upon regional and national systems.
In May 2008, the 9th Conference of Parties to the CBD furthermore
adopted the scientific “Azores criteria” for the identification of ecologi­
cally or biologically significant marine areas in need of protection
in open-ocean waters and deep-sea habitats. The CBD recognizes the

20
Such as the Agreement on the Conservation of Small Cetaceans of the Baltic,
North-East Atlantic, Irish and North Seas (ASCOBANS 1992), the Convention on
International Civil Aviation (ICAO Chicago 1944), the International Convention
for the Conservation of Atlantic Tunas (ICCAT 1966), the International Council for
the Exploration of the Sea (ICES), the International Maritime Organization (IMO),
the International Seabed Authority (ISA), the International Convention for the
Regulation of Whaling (IWC 1946), the Convention on the Prevention of Marine
Pollution by Dumping of Wastes and Other Matter (1972) and its Protocol of 1996, the
Convention for the Conservation of Salmon in the North Atlantic Ocean (1982; imple­
mented by NASCO) and the North-East Atlantic Fisheries Commission (NEAFC
1982).
21
Johannesburg, September 2002.
22
See for further reference M. C. Ribeiro, The ‘Rainbow’: The first National Marine
protected Area proposed under the High Seas, 25 International Journal of Marine and
Coastal Law 183, at 188, note 15 (2010).
23
Convention on Biological Diversity, 5 June 1992, UNTS Vol. 1760 No. 30619, in
force 29 December 1993.
 a question of sovereignty?1073

sovereignty of states over their biodiversity, leaving them full control of

exploitation in accordance with their own economic policy, although
they are expected to set up protected area systems within their main
areas of biological diversity.

III. The UN Law of the Sea Convention (UNCLOS)

All Parties to the OSPAR Convention are Parties to both the United
Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea of 10 December 1982
(UNCLOS) and the 1994 Agreement Relating to the Implementation
of Part XI of the Convention.24 UNCLOS imposes inter alia the
following general obligations on Contracting Parties which are rele­
vant to the protection of the marine environment: the obligation to
protect and preserve the marine environment (Article 192 UNCLOS),
the obligation to cooperate in the protection and preservation of
the marine environment and to pursue this obligation directly or
through competent international organizations (Article 197 UNCLOS),
and the obligation to protect the marine environment in ABNJ and
to take, individually or jointly, the necessary measures to do so.
In relation to the Area, the Area and its resources are the common her­
itage of mankind on whose behalf the International Seabed Authority
acts.25

IV. Oceans and the Law of the Sea Resolutions

of the General Assembly
In its annual Oceans and the Law of the Sea Resolutions, the United
Nations General Assembly (UNGA) has reaffirmed several times26 the
need for States to continue and intensify their efforts, directly and
through competent international organizations, to develop and facili­
tate the use of various approaches and tools for conserving and manag­
ing vulnerable marine ecosystems, including the possible establishment
of marine protected areas, consistent with international law, as reflected
in the Law of the Sea Convention, and based on the best scientific

24
28 July 1994, UNTS Vol. 1836 No. 31364; text in: A. Lowe/S. Talmon (eds.), The
Legal Order of the Oceans, at 409 (2009).
25
See Arts. 136, 137, 157 UNCLOS.
26
Since 2002 the concept of MPAs is supported in particular by a group of States
that includes Australia and the Member States of the European Union.
1074 ingo winkelmann

information available, and the development of representative networks

of any such marine protected areas by 2012.27
The underpinning of the concept of MPAs by the Johannesburg
Summit, the CBD, the environmental provisions of UNCLOS and the
postulates of relevant UN resolutions seems to be solid. But it does not
provide answers in situations where intended or established MPAs
clash with areas covered by national submissions to the Commission
on the Limits of the Continental Shelf. In the present case, Iceland was
a Contracting Party to OSPAR and could block consensus on the estab­
lishment of the CGFZ MPA in its original form. Thus, a direct collision
of legal norms did not occur or, more accurately, was circumvented by
political negotiation. In the future, cases may arise where a direct colli­
sion requires a concrete legal answer.

D. Legal Approaches to Potential Collisions between

Continental Shelf Submissions and Marine Protected Areas

What is the legal effect of a submission to the Commission on the

Limits of the Continental Shelf (CLCS) which encompasses the area of
an MPA or parts thereof? Does the submission of information on the
limits of the continental shelf beyond 200 nautical miles per se provide
a kind of “veto right” against intended (or even existing) MPAs?
Politically, it is certainly correct to observe that coastal states which
have made submissions to the CLCS have an “inherent” tendency to
give more legal weight to the fact that a submission has been made or
is “pending”. In contrast, states which are not in a position to make
submissions and which view the question as protectors of the common
heritage of mankind might be inclined to hold that such areas remain
part of “the Area” (Article 136 UNCLOS) until such time as a submis­
sion has resulted in internationally recognized final and binding outer
limits. To date, two legal approaches can be identified, which rely on
different interpretations of Arts. 76 and 77 UNCLOS.

I. Approaches which Focus Primarily on Article 77 UNCLOS

Article 77 of UNCLOS provides that “1. [t]he coastal State exercises
over the continental shelf sovereign rights for the purpose of exploring

27
GA Res. 63/111 of 12 February 2009 (Oceans and the Law of the Sea), adopted on
5 December 2008, para. 134.
 a question of sovereignty?1075

it and exploiting its natural resources […] 3. The rights of the coastal
State […] do not depend on occupation, effective or notional, nor on
any express proclamation.” Article 77 UNCLOS is a powerful weapon.
Used in the context of the present discussion, it could mean that the
coastal state’s sovereign rights begin to “emerge” from the moment it
submits data to the Commission–long before the Commission makes
any recommendation–and that such sovereignty may thereafter be
anticipated with regard to the envisaged area. The argument looks
strong and puts coastal states making submissions in a position of great
power. It was along these lines that Iceland argued in the CGFZ case:
“[the] approach must respect the sovereign rights of the coastal State
over the continental shelf in accordance with articles 77, 208, 214 and
246 of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS).
It should be underlined that according to article 77, the rights of the
coastal State over the continental shelf do not depend on occupation or
any express proclamation; they are with other words inherent rights.
OSPAR’s competence to establish MPAs is limited to areas beyond
national jurisdiction. Therefore […] OSPAR does not have the compe­
tence to establish MPAs in an area covered by a submission of a coastal
State to the CLCS. The possibility of establishing an MPA in such an area
may only be reviewed once the outer limits of the continental shelf have
been established in accordance with the procedure of article 76 of
UNCLOS.”28
Iceland does not stand alone in this respect. A Portuguese scholar,
M. C. Ribeiro, has argued as follows:
“It is surely not correct to adopt a restrictive interpretation of LOSC
Article 77(3) and apply it only up to the 200 nm limit. Such an under­
standing would restrict the scope of the Article […]. Such an interpreta­
tion is not supported by Article 77(3) itself, because it makes no
distinction, when compared with what is set out in LOSC Article 76(1),
between the situations in which the continental shelf reaches the limit of
200 nm, and the situations in which the continental shelf goes beyond
that limit. Such a distinction would not make sense. In all fairness, it is
not the powers of the State over the zones of the continental shelf
located beyond 200 nm that are undetermined, but only the limits of the
area subject to those powers. Therefore, considering all of this, the first

28
Taken from the compilation of responses from Contracting Parties on the way
forward to the CGFZ, WG-Charlie 09, prepared by the OSPAR Secretariat, London,
11 November 2009. See also supra note 10, at 5: “The rights of the coastal State over the
continental shelf are inherent; they exist ipso facto and ab initio, as reflected in article
77 of the Convention.”
1076 ingo winkelmann

conclusion is that once a State formally expresses, at an international level,

the desire to define the outer limits of its continental shelf, which have been
ascertained to be located beyond 200 nm, it is open to that State to exercise
all the rights and duties established by the LOSC in the areas concerned.29
If a mandate voluntarily assumed by the international community (such
as one that may be within the scope of a regional organization) already
exists for the defence of the ecosystems located in those areas, this man­
date would immediately cease. […]”30
The last line of argument is strongly based on environmental reason­
ing. To quote Ribeiro again:
“The enlargement of the powers of the coastal State enshrined in the
LOSC originated from purely economic motives: the exploitation of nat­
ural resources. However, the growing paradigm of environmental protec­
tion, under which the marine environment is regarded as a ‘common
good’, means that the reconciliation of the two concepts ‘exploitation vs.
protection’ is also necessary in the marine space. The duty to protect the
marine environment was defined as the exact corollary of the recognition
of the sovereignty of the States over the marine resources (Articles 192
and 193, LOSC). Consequently, if the State has that duty, it also has the
right to claim its competence to exercise that duty and have it respected
in all of the maritime areas under its jurisdiction.”31
Ribeiro presented her arguments in connection with Rainbow, a
national Portuguese MPA under the high seas and one of five hydro­
thermal vent fields in the area of the Azores. In 2006, Portugal had
proposed the inclusion of Rainbow in the OSPAR network of MPAs. It
is today listed in OSPAR documents as a national Portuguese MPA,
although it apparently lies outside the 200 nautical miles limit.32

II. Approaches which Read Article 77 in the

Light of Article 76 UNCLOS
The second approach, while recognizing the thrust of Article 77
UNCLOS, stresses that this Article has to be read in the light of what
is laid down in Article 76 (8) UNCLOS. According to Article 76 (8)

29
Italics by the author.
30
Ribeiro (note 22), at 191–192.
31
Id., at 192.
32
Rainbow field reported to OSPAR as a Portuguese MPA, see OSPAR Report on
the progress made in developing the OSPAR Network of Marine Protected Areas
(2009), 11 and 22; this equals in Ribeiro’s view a “recognition of the environmental
jurisdiction of the coastal state on the continental shelf beyond 200 nm, even when the
definition of its limits is not yet concluded”, id.
 a question of sovereignty?1077

UNCLOS “information on the limits of the continental shelf beyond

200 nautical miles from the baselines from which the breadth of the
territorial sea is measured shall be submitted by the coastal state to
the Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf set up under
Annex II on the basis of equitable geographical distribution. The
Commission shall make recommendations to coastal states on matters
related to the establishment of the outer limits of their continental
shelf. The limits of the shelf established by a coastal state on the basis of
these recommendations shall be final and binding.”
Article 76 UNCLOS contains several new elements in comparison
with Article 1 of the 1958 Convention on the Continental Shelf.33 The
establishment of the Commission on the Limits of the Continental
Shelf is one key change, as is the linking of the final and binding nature
of outer continental shelf limits beyond 200 nautical miles established
by a coastal state to the recommendation made by the Commission.
The main function of the Commission on the Limits of the Continental
Shelf is to “consider the data” and “to make recommendations”.34 Based
upon the recommendations, coastal states are to establish the outer
limits of their continental shelf in conformity with the provisions of
Article 76 (8) UNCLOS.35
The argument is that the very substance of Article 76 (8) UNCLOS
would be ignored if national jurisdiction extending to new outer
limits were to be internationally recognized before the basis for it
(recommendations by the Commission) existed. What motive would
the submitting coastal state have to pursue its submission if the best
possible result (the intended new outer limits) had already material­
ized? Would respect for the Commission not weaken if it no longer
mattered whether or not the Commission had issued recommenda­
tions? Would approaches focussing too much on Article 77 UNCLOS
not facilitate possible–and easily conceivable–abuses of the system?
The text of Article 76 (8) UNCLOS is unambiguous: If the outer lim­
its of the shelf established by a coastal state are to be final and binding
vis-à-vis third States, the limits must be based on a recommendation by

33
As to the genesis, see S. Nandan/S. Rosenne (eds.), United Nations Convention on
the Law of the Sea, Vol. 2, at 825 (1993); P. Leung, Arctic Continental Shelf Delineation
and Delimitation: The Significance of Ratifying the United Nations Convention of the
Law of the Sea and the Sector Theory, 24 Ocean Yearbook 475, at 483 (2010).
34
Annex II Article 3 (1) (a) UNCLOS.
35
Annex II Article 7 UNCLOS.
1078 ingo winkelmann

the Commission.36 This and the considerable uncertainty about the

precise extent of the continental shelf in the absence of recommended
outer limits have led to the request that “in the absence of final and
binding outer limits, a coastal state should act with restraint in respect
of areas that may or may not be located within the outer limits”37.

III. Recent OSPAR Decisions Regarding Areas Encompassed

in Other Submissions
Recent developments may reflect the emergence of a new state practice.
At the same Ministerial Meeting in Bergen in September 2010 at which
agreement on the new Charlie-Gibbs South MPA was reached, four
areas closely related to the abovementioned38 Portuguese Rainbow area
were also named as new MPAs in ABNJ: Altair Seamount High Seas
MPA, Antialtair Seamount High Seas MPA, Josephine Seamount High
Seas MPA and Mid-Atlantic Ridge North of the Azores High Seas MPA,39
all components of the OSPAR Network of Marine Protected Areas. All
the areas are beyond 200 nautical miles and encompassed by the
Portuguese submission to the Commission on the Limits of the
Continental Shelf of 11 May 2009. All the areas are also considered
concrete objects of Portuguese domestic law.40
In the decisions referring to each of the four areas, OSPAR
– acknowledges “that the Portuguese Republic has presented to the
Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf (CLCS) its sub­
mission regarding the establishment of the outer limits of the Portu­
guese continental shelf beyond 200 nautical miles from the baselines
from which the breadth of the territorial sea is measured, in accor­
dance with Article 76 of, and Annex II to, the United Nations Con­
vention of the Law of the Sea and that this submission by Portugal
encompasses the seabed of <name of the area> […]”;
– notes and welcomes the fact “that the Portuguese Republic has
reported to the OSPAR Commission on the selection of the seabed
of (name of the area) as a component of the OSPAR network of

36
See also Leung (note 33), at 490.
37
H. M. Dontinga/E. J. Molenaar/A. G. Oude Elferink, The CGFZ MPA Proposal:
Implications of the Icelandic Submission to the CLCS, at 5 (2010).
38
See supra D. I.
39
OSPAR Summary Record MMC 2010 20–24 September 2010, decisions in
annexes 38, 40, 42 and 44 (Ref. M5.2).
40
Ribeiro (note 22), at 196–197.
 a question of sovereignty?1079

Marine Protected Areas and will establish the programmes, mea­

sures and agreements which are necessary for the achievement of the
conservation vision and conservation objectives regarding the sea­
bed of the <name of the area>”;
– welcomes “the request of the Portuguese Republic to the OSPAR
Commission to take corresponding measures for the waters superja­
cent to the <name of the area>”;
– recognizes “that the OSPAR Commission can take corresponding
measures in order to achieve the conservation vision and conserva­
tion objectives for the high seas superjacent to the seabed subject to
the submission of the Portuguese Republic to the CLCS in the <name
of the area>” and
– recognizes “that the establishment of this MPA does not create any
precedent regarding the establishment by the OSPAR Commission
of other MPAs in waters superjacent to areas of the seabed subject to
submission to CLCS or prejudice the sovereign rights and obliga­
tions of coastal States to the continental shelf. The establishment of
such MPAs will be decided on a case by case basis.”41
In all four cases, apparently, OSPAR and the coastal state are obviously
pursuing the same (environmental) policy. Mutual activities are
described as “corresponding” and “complementing”. This may have
facilitated the taking of the decisions which carefully distinguish
between the seabed and the waters superjacent to it.

E. A Limited Legal Assessment

At this stage, it is difficult to see how the two existing approaches

can be aligned. Matters seem even more complicated when efforts
to limit the extent of overlapping submissions strictly to the seabed/
continental shelf and allowing for a different regime for the water
column42 are criticized for “raising complex questions regarding divi­
sion of jurisdictions”.43

41
Id.
42
Which in fact is not affected by continental shelf submissions, see Article 78 (1)
UNCLOS.
43
OSPAR Commission, Meeting of the Biodiversity Committee, Doc. presented by
Iceland, Norway and the United Kingdom, “Establishment of a Marine Protected Area
for the Josephine Seamount, the Mid-Atlantic Ridge North of the Azores, the Altair
Seamount and the Antialtair Seamount–comments”, BDC 10/4/11-E(L), Bonn: 15–18
June 2010.
1080 ingo winkelmann

It is true that by making a submission, a coastal state takes an impor­

tant step towards concretizing its inherent rights over “its” continental
shelf. By the same token, the submission itself can by no means be
equated with the recommendation which is the required basis for
the final and binding establishment of outer limits. States Parties to the
Convention are obliged to respect outer limits only if the latter have
been established under the conditions laid down in UNCLOS. Any
unilateral declaration by a coastal state without a Commission recom­
mendation would be contrary to Article 76 (8) UNCLOS.44 It would
“always be open to challenges from other states”.45
UNCLOS remains silent as to the legal effect of a submission. The
fact that UNCLOS Contracting States gave the Commission an “impor­
tant” role in the establishment of outer limits46 is only one aspect to
consider. Arguments that the backlog of pending submissions before
the CLCS will take several decades to clear47 can be used by both sides
and are thus of little value.
In the view of this author, the main consideration should be that faits
accomplis must be prevented until the Commission has made its rec­
ommendation in any specific case. A recommendation would be nuga­
tory if its substance had been undermined while the submission was
being processed and dealt with. Coastal states which make a submis­
sion to the Commission should not have to bear the risk of third states
exploiting areas in their potential outer continental shelf while they
await the Commission’s decision. At the same time, coastal states
should not be entitled to prevent marine protective activities in an area
encompassed by their submissions as long as their potential sovereign
rights (including exploitation of natural resources) have not been con­
firmed by a recommendation. This requires little more than patience
on the part of the coastal state until the Commission has made its rec­
ommendation. This burden seems tolerable since it does not encroach
upon the inherent but not yet sufficiently concretized rights of the
coastal state. These rights will remain untouched in substance. Whether

44
See Graf Vitzthum (note 1), at 198.
45
S. Suarez, The Outer Limits of the Continental Shelf, Legal Aspects of their
Establishment, at 216 (2008).
46
See Nandan/Rosenne (note 33), at 882; Leung (note 33), at 483.
47
The total number of submissions received by the Commission as of September
2010 is 53, not including a considerable number of preliminary submissions, see CLCS
Doc. 68 (2010).
 a question of sovereignty?1081

a regional organization, the International Seabed Authority48 or the

coastal state itself49 is the competent actor to take care of environmen­
tal concerns during this interim period is another question and not
covered by this contribution.
It is true that only some of the legal issues have been considered in
this contribution. Nevertheless, striking a balance along the lines of the
one proposed above might at least prevent potential harm to the marine
environment in the short term, and to the economic interests of the
coastal state in the long term, pending the final recommendations by
the Commission.

48
See T. Scovazzi, Mining, Protection of the Environment, Scientific Research
and Bioprospecting: Some Considerations on the Role of the International Sea-Bed
Authority, 19 International Journal of Marine and Coastal Law 383 (2004).
49
D. Owen, Interactions between management of a water column marine protected
area in the high seas of the OSPAR maritime area and the exercise of sovereign rights
regarding subjacent outer continental shelf, A report for WWF Germany, at 53 (2010).
Coexistence, Cooperation and Solidarity
Volume II
Coexistence, Cooperation
and Solidarity

Liber Amicorum
Rüdiger Wolfrum

Volume II

Edited by

Holger P. Hestermeyer
Doris König
Nele Matz-Lück
Volker Röben
Anja Seibert-Fohr
Peter-Tobias Stoll
Silja Vöneky

LEIDEN • BOSTON
2012
This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Coexistence, cooperation and solidarity : liber amicorum Rüdiger Wolfrum / edited by Holger
Hestermeyer ... [et al.].
p. cm.
ISBN 978-90-04-18893-8 (set : hardback : alk. paper) -- ISBN 978-90-04-21468-2 (v. 1 : alk.
paper) -- ISBN 978-90-04-21469-9 (v. 2 : alk. paper) 1. International law. I. Hestermeyer,
Holger. II. Wolfrum, Rüdiger.
KZ3410.C635 2011
341--dc23
2011034843

ISBN 978 90 04 18893 8 (hardback, set)

ISBN 978 90 04 21468 2 (hardback, volume I)
ISBN 978 90 04 21469 9 (hardback, volume II)
ISBN 978 90 04 21482 8 (e-book)

Copyright 2012 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands.

Koninklijke Brill NV incorporates the imprints Brill, Global Oriental, Hotei Publishing,
IDC Publishers, Martinus Nijhoff Publishers and VSP.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in
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Fees are subject to change.
 CONTENTS

Volume I

List of Contributors and Editors............................................................... xv

Part I
Coexistence, Cooperation and Solidarity
in International Law

The International Obligation to Cooperate–An Empty

Shell or a Hard Law Principle of International Law?–
A Critical Look at a Much Debated Paradigm of Modern
International Law..................................................................................... 3
Jost Delbrück
State Debt Crisis, Private Creditors, and
the IMF Articles of Agreement............................................................17
Werner F. Ebke
Reality or Aspiration?–Solidarity in International
Environmental and World Trade Law.................................................45
Holger P. Hestermeyer
Der lange Weg zur doppelten Mehrheit im Rat der
Europäischen Union nach dem Vertrag von Lissabon: Vom
Völkerrecht zum genuinen Europäischen Verfassungsrecht
vor dem Hintergrund nationaler Erfahrungen..................................65
Jürgen Jekewitz
The Post-Globalization Travails of Legal Education..............................99
Rahmatullah Khan
Solidarity: Evidence of an Emerging International
Legal Principle......................................................................................103
Abdul G. Koroma
vi contents

The Solidarity Principle, Francisco de Vitoria and the

Protection of Indigenous Peoples......................................................131
Vicente Marotta Rangel
Solidarität, Souveränität und Völkerrecht: Grundzüge
einer internationalen Solidargemeinschaft zur Hilfe bei
Naturkatastrophen...............................................................................141
Nele Matz-Lück
From Coexistence to Détente and Cooperation. Some
Lessons from the Cold War for a Contemporary Era of
Clashing Cultures or Colliding Civilisations....................................167
Edward McWhinney
Customary International Law in Action: From
the International Minimum Standard to Fair and
Equitable Treatment............................................................................181
Francisco Orrego Vicuña
The Roles of Proportionality in Maritime Delimitation:
State of Jurisprudence..........................................................................199
Jin-Hyun Paik
Some Reflections on Factors Exerting Influence on
Maritime Boundary Delimitation......................................................223
Stanislaw Pawlak
Land and Maritime Tripoints in International
Jurisprudence........................................................................................245
Alain Pellet
Reflections on the Cogency of Fragmentation: Statutes of
Limitation and “Continuing Violations” in Investment and
Human Rights Law..............................................................................265
W. Michael Reisman & Mahnoush H. Arsanjani
About the Sense and Direction of Multilateralism in
International Trade Law......................................................................281
Hélène Ruiz Fabri
Where Should Nefertiti Go? Reflections on International
Cultural Law.........................................................................................303
Peter-Tobias Stoll
 contents vii

Part II
Human Rights in the Global Society

Environmental Migration and International Law................................319

Ulrich Beyerlin
Institution Building in the UN-Human Rights-System–
The Committee on the Elimination of Racial
Discrimination (CERD)......................................................................333
Brun-Otto Bryde
Labour Relations before the Strasbourg Court.....................................343
Lucius Caflisch
The Protection of Property in International Law:
The Missing Pieces...............................................................................367
Thomas Cottier, Katja Gehne & Maria Schultheiss
Wirtschaftliche, soziale und kulturelle Rechte:
Menschen- oder auch Grundrechte?.................................................397
Constance Grewe
The Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on
Economic, Social and Cultural Rights–Towards a More
Effective Implementation of Social Rights?......................................417
Rainer Grote
Human Dignity–Basis of Human Rights...............................................437
Eckart Klein
International Human Rights Law and Transnational
Corporations: Responsibilities and Cooperation............................453
Robert McCorquodale
The Protection of Indigenous Peoples in International
Law Revisited–From Non-Discrimination to
Self-Determination..............................................................................477
Stefan Oeter
Sleeping Beauty or Let Sleeping Dogs Lie? The Right of
Everyone to Enjoy the Benefits of Scientific Progress and
its Applications (REBSPA)..................................................................503
Eibe Riedel
viii contents

The International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights:

Moving from Coexistence to Cooperation and Solidarity.............521
Anja Seibert-Fohr
The Legal Status of Normative Pronouncements of
Human Rights Treaty Bodies..............................................................553
Dinah Shelton
Human Rights Before the International Court of Justice:
Community Interest Coming to Life?...............................................577
Bruno Simma
Rassismusbekämpfung im Europäischen Rechtsraum:
Neue Impulse durch den Europäischen
Gerichtshof für Menschenrechte.......................................................605
Daniel Thürer & Nina Burri
The Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination
and International Humanitarian Law...............................................633
David Weissbrodt
Part III
Global Commons

The Principle of Reasonableness in the Law of the Sea.......................657

David Anderson
Polar Science in the North and South: Tailoring Lessons
from Antarctica to Improve Reliability of Legal Access for
Marine Scientific Research (MSR) to the Arctic Ocean..................671
Betsy Baker
Strengthening Compliance with Climate Change
Commitments.......................................................................................693
Edith Brown Weiss
The Global Climate Regime: Wither Common Concern?..................721
Jutta Brunnée
Enforcement Jurisdiction under the United Nations
Convention on the Law of the Sea. An Overview...........................737
Hugo Caminos
Compliance Mechanisms in the International Law
of the Sea: From the Individual to the Collective............................777
Robin Churchill
 contentsix

The Dual Function of Base Points..........................................................807

Jean-Pierre Cot
Divided We Stand: The Legal Issues Concerning the
International Whaling Commission..................................................829
Malgosia Fitzmaurice
On the Classification of Obligations in
International Law.................................................................................853
Philippe Gautier
Conceptualizing Global Natural Resources:
Global Public Goods Theory and International
Legal Concepts.....................................................................................881
Ellen Hey
The Altiplano Silala (Siloli): A Watercourse
under Scrutiny......................................................................................901
María Teresa Infante Caffi
Protection and Preservation of the Marine Environment
in the Area under UNCLOS...............................................................919
James L. Kateka
Cable and Pipeline Surveys at Sea..........................................................933
Rainer Lagoni
The Contribution of Trinidad and Tobago
to the Development of the Regime
of the Continental Shelf......................................................................957
Anthony A. Lucky
The Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf
and Coastal States’ Submissions.........................................................971
L. D. M. Nelson
Textual Interpretation of Article 121 in the
UN Convention on the Law of the Sea.............................................991
Myron H. Nordquist
Water in the Contemporary World......................................................1037
Helmut Türk
A Question of Sovereignty? Submissions to the
Commission on the Limits of the Continental Shelf
and Marine Protected Areas.............................................................1065
Ingo Winkelmann
x contents

Volume II

Part IV

Peace, Security and State-Building

Individual Remedies for Victims of Armed Conflicts

in the Context of Mass Claims Settlements....................................1085
Eyal Benvenisti
Die Einbindung der Bevölkerung in
Verfassungsänderungsprozessen – ein Überblick.........................1107
Markus Böckenförde
Piracy Jure Gentium...............................................................................1125
Yoram Dinstein
Policing the Oceans–New Issues..........................................................1147
Jochen Abr. Frowein
Maritime Security (Case of Piracy)......................................................1157
Vladimir Golitsyn
The Impact of Law on Contemporary Military
Operations–Sacrificing Security Interests on the Altar
of Political Correctness?....................................................................1177
Wolff Heintschel von Heinegg
Frieden und Friedensvoraussetzungen – Ihre
Gewährleistung durch Staat und Staatengemeinschaft.................1203
Paul Kirchhof
Is There a Role for Law in a World Ruled by Power?.........................1235
Tommy Koh
The Return of Piracy: Problems, Parallels, Paradoxes.......................1239
Hanspeter Neuhold
The Crime of Aggression before the International
Criminal Court...................................................................................1259
Kirsten Schmalenbach
Risk and Security in International Law...............................................1283
Christian Tomuschat
 contentsxi

Das Ende der Unschuld? Völkerrechtliche Aspekte des

Einsatzes militärischer Gewalt durch Truppen der
Bundeswehr am Beispiel Afghanistans...........................................1309
Silja Vöneky
Hybrid Peacekeeping: Is UNAMID a New Model for
Cooperation between the United Nations and Regional
Organizations?....................................................................................1327
Christian Walter
International Law and the War on Terrorism.....................................1341
Georg Witschel

Part V
Global Governance and United Nations

Konstitutionalisierung – Was heißt das eigentlich?...........................1369

Rudolf Bernhardt
Thoughts on International Democracy...............................................1377
Armin von Bogdandy
Private Normunternehmer im Völkerrecht: Gedanken
zur Fortentwicklung des Völkerrechts durch nicht-staatliche
Institutionen.......................................................................................1399
Michael Bothe
The Governance of the Global Ocean Observing
System (GOOS)..................................................................................1413
Peter Ehlers
The UN-Oligarchs and Their Privileges..............................................1439
Tono Eitel
Headquarters Agreements and the Law of
International Organizations.............................................................1463
Thomas A. Mensah
The Importance of Generality in Law-Making International
Agreements.........................................................................................1497
Fred L. Morrison
Legitimacy of UN Member States........................................................1507
Volker Röben
xii contents

Too “Smart” for Legal Protection? UN Security Council’s Targeted

Sanctions and a Pladoyer for Another UN Tribunal.....................1527
Torsten Stein
Self-Determination of Peoples–A Chronic Problem of
Humankind.........................................................................................1543
Budislav Vukas
The United Nations Collective Security System in the
21st Century: Increased Decentralization through
Regionalization and Reliance on Self-Defence..............................1553
Erika de Wet
Japan’s Contribution to International Peace and its
Political and Legal Background........................................................1569
Shunji Yanai
Part VI

Dispute Settlement and Conflict-Resolution

Jurisprudence of the International Tribunal for the Law

of the Sea in Prompt Release Proceedings......................................1591
Joseph Akl
A “Footnote as a Principle”. Mutual Supportiveness and
its Relevance in an Era of Fragmentation.......................................1615
Laurence Boisson de Chazournes & Makane Moïse Mbengue
Affected Individuals in Proceedings before the ICJ,
the ITLOS and the ECHR.................................................................1639
Burkhard Hess & Astrid Wiik
Judges ad hoc in the International Tribunal for
the Law of the Sea..............................................................................1661
José Luis Jesus
Between Contemporaneous and Evolutive Interpretation:
The Use of “Subsequent Practice” in the Judgment
of the International Court of Justice Concerning the
Case of Costa Rica v. Nicaragua (2009)..........................................1675
Georg Nolte
Use and Abuse of Interim Protection before International
Courts and Tribunals.........................................................................1685
Karin Oellers-Frahm
 contentsxiii

The International Proliferation of Criminal Jurisdictions

Revisited: Uniting or Fragmenting International Law?................1705
Fausto Pocar
ITLOS: The Conception of the Judicial Function..............................1725
P. Chandrasekhara Rao
Provisional Measures in the International Tribunal for
the Law of the Sea..............................................................................1763
Peter Tomka & Gleider I. Hernández
Cross-Fertilization between Different International
Courts and Tribunals: The Mangouras Case..................................1787
Tullio Treves
Die Errichtung des Internationalen Seegerichtshofes
und die Rolle Deutschlands..............................................................1797
Gerd Westdickenberg
Der „Backlog“ (Rückstand in der Fallbehandlung) des
Europäischen Gerichtshofs für Menschenrechte...........................1825
Luzius Wildhaber
Advisory Jurisdiction: Lessons from Recent Practice.......................1833
Michael Wood
Part VII
National Law in Context

“Berlin bleibt Berlin”..............................................................................1853

Anthony Aust
Die private Haftung aus Seedelikten zwischen Völkerrecht
und Internationalem Privatrecht.....................................................1869
Jürgen Basedow
Die Staat-Kirche-Modelle von Trennung, Gleichheit
und Nähe.............................................................................................1897
Winfried Brugger
Zu den Implikationen der EU-Mitgliedschaft für die Stellung und
Anwendung des Völkerrechts im innerstaatlichen Bereich.........1909
Astrid Epiney
Zur Verfassungsmässigkeit unilateraler
Pirateriebekämpfung durch die Deutsche Marine........................1935
Ulrich Fastenrath
xiv contents

Macht und Ohnmacht –

Das Bundesverfassungsgericht und die Politik..............................1959
Evelyn Haas
Die neue Tierversuchsrichtlinie 2010/63/EU der
Europäischen Union im Lichte der Binnenmarktkompetenz......1981
Wolfgang Löwer
Norway in the Dynamics of European Legal Integration.................2019
Peter-Christian Müller-Graff
Das Bundesverfassungsgericht im Kräftefeld zwischen
Karlsruhe, Luxemburg und Straßburg............................................2041
Hans-Jürgen Papier
German Jurisdiction Clauses in Anti-cartel Cases
before English Courts–and some Remarks Relating
to the Interpretation of Foreign Laws..............................................2057
Thomas Pfeiffer
Das Steuerrecht der Hohen See............................................................2071
Ekkehart Reimer
Reform der steuerstrafrechtlichen Selbstanzeige im
Rechtsstaat oder: Vom Beruf unserer
Zeit zur Gesetzgebung.......................................................................2099
Erich Samson
Ansätze zur Internationalisierung des
verwaltungsgerichtlichen Rechtsschutzes.......................................2119
Eberhard Schmidt-Aßmann
Stauffenberg –
Zur Rechtfertigung von Eidbruch und Tyrannenmord................2145
Wolfgang Graf Vitzthum
The Idea of the Holy: Nomos as Holiness............................................2165
Joseph H. H. Weiler
List of Publications of Rüdiger Wolfrum............................................2175
 Part IV

PeaCe, Security and State-Building

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 Individual Remedies for Victims of Armed
Conflicts in the Context of Mass Claims
Settlements

Eyal Benvenisti

A. Introduction

The emerging law on the peaceful resolution of armed conflicts has to

address, among other issues, the resolution of claims of individual vic-
tims of violations of the law during the conflict. The question is
whether–and, if so, how–international law should limit the discretion
of parties to the conflict when they negotiate a comprehensive settle-
ment of all the outstanding claims. Some even say that the law already
does so, and that therefore it is “questionable whether under contem-
porary international law a State still has treaty-making power with
regard to claims of individuals”.1 This essay sets out to explore this
question. The essay envisages negotiations towards a comprehensive
settlement of all outstanding issues. This settlement will ultimately be
part of a peace treaty in a case of an international armed conflict, or
part of an internal agreement following an internal armed conflict, or
both. The questions are similar: to what extent should the discretion of
these parties be constrained by international law? Does the law at pre-
sent empower individual victims to seek reparations in courts for vio-
lations of international humanitarian law (IHL)?

B. Do Victims Have a Right to Reparations for

Breaches of Primary Norms of IHL?

To answer the questions posed above, it is necessary to examine firstly

whether IHL grants victims of IHL violations primary rights (e.g., not
to be the object of attack, etc.) as well as secondary rights to remedies
in the event of violations of their primary rights. This section suggests

1
ILA Report on Reparation for Victims of Armed Conflict (Substantive Issues), The
Hague Conference (2010), available at: http://www.ila-hq.org/download.cfm/docid/
4E702C99-897E-46A9-AA505E7FF291AFB7.
1086 eyal benvenisti

that individuals are not currently recognized as either primary or sec-

ondary right holders. It does so by exploring the status of individuals
under international law in general and in IHL in particular, explaining
the logic of this status, and assessing newly asserted challenges to the
prevailing doctrine.

I. Policy Considerations
As a general rule, rights and obligations in international law apply to
states only, unless other parties are expressly recognized as being enti-
tled to specific rights. One such case is in the context of human rights
treaties, under which states assume direct obligations towards individ-
uals who are subject to their jurisdiction. But in the absence of explicit
entitlements of this nature, the only parties involved are the states
themselves. In fact, the principal context in which individuals are pro-
tected under international law is the doctrine of diplomatic protection.
This is the reason the International Law Commission’s (ILC) Articles
on State Responsibility do not mention individual claims for repara-
tions for state breaches of international obligations.2
The preference for the institution of diplomatic protection is not a
relic of the past. It is informed by clear policy concerns. The doctrine
reflects the realization that it is necessary also for the individual to
ensure that his/her state is capable of providing effective protection.
Indeed, diplomatic protection remains the most potent tool for claim-
ing redress for violations of international law. John Dugard, the Special
Rapporteur of the ILC on this issue, has emphasized this reality in his
First Report on Diplomatic Protection,3 noting that the remedies pro-
vided by human rights treaties “are weak” and that “[d]iplomatic pro-
tection… potentially, offers a more effective remedy. Most States will
treat a claim of diplomatic protection from another State more seri-
ously than a complaint against its conduct to a human rights monitor-
ing body.”4

2
C. Tomuschat, Reparation for Victims of Grave Human Rights Violations,
10 Tulane Journal of International and Comparative Law 157, at 173–174 (2000)
“[T]he fact that the ILC never thought of delving into this subject matter [of individ-
ual claims] speaks for itself. The ILC was of the opinion that the law of state res­
ponsibility would be sufficiently well-ordered by devising rules governing inter-state
relationships.”
3
John Dugard, First Report on Diplomatic Protection, UN Doc. A/CN.4/506
(2000), paras. 23–25.
4
Id., para. 31.
 individual remedies for victims of armed conflicts1087

The doctrine on diplomatic protection stipulates that the protecting

state has discretion whether to grant protection to its citizens and, if so,
in what manner to do so. This discretion applies even to the most severe
violations of peremptory norms of international law. The ILC ulti-
mately rejected the suggestion of Professor Dugard that an obligation
be recognized that states will have to provide diplomatic protection
when jus cogens norms are violated. The majority of the ILC members
thought that Dugard’s suggestion went “beyond the permissible limits
of progressive development of the law”.5 In this respect, as the ILA’s
Final Report on Diplomatic Protection of Persons and Property (2006)
indicates, the rejection of an obligation to protect was justified not only
based on the limited mandate of the ILC to codify international law in
a progressive way, but also due to the policy concerns with imposing “a
severe restriction on the state’s discretion to exercise protection [given]
that jus cogens has proven to be a rather elusive concept allowing for
much speculation”.6
In the resolution of mass claims in the context of peaceful negotia-
tions, there are weighty reasons for insisting that diplomatic protection
should remain discretionary, even with respect to violations of jus
cogens obligations.7 In general, “States are free to agree on the appropri-
ate remedy. Practical and policy grounds have led recent [refugee]
claims programmes to opt for compensation.”8 The resolution of the
numerous individual claims will not only be cumbersome due to their
sheer number and the need to examine each of them in detail, but
also due to other factors, such as the economic conditions of the par-
ties, the passage of time between the conflict and its attempted resolu-
tion, during which circumstances have changed and third parties have

5
ILC, Report of the Fifty-Sixth Session, UN Doc. A/59/10 (2004), at 28.
6
Final Report of the International Law Association Toronto Conference (2006) on
Diplomatic Protection of Persons and Property indicates with respect to this mat-
ter, available at: http://www.ila-hq.org/download.cfm/docid/06AF36BC-2797-40D2
-A7F15EE02A3425DA, at 28–29.
7
P. d’Argent, Wrongs of the Past, History of the Future? 17 European Journal of
International Law 279, at 288 (2006). In his view, “the peremptory character of a rule
does not entail a prohibition to renounce the reparation debt flowing from its viola-
tion[.] States may bind themselves to limit in domestic law the enjoyment of individual
rights conferred by international law if certain conditions (broadly speaking, of neces-
sity and proportionality) are met.” See also P. d’Argent, Les réparations de guerre en
droit international public. La responsabilité internationale des Etats à l’épreuve de la
guerre, at 759–774 (2002).
8
H. van Houtte/B. Delmartino/I. Yi, Post War Restoration of Property Rights Under
International Law, Vol. 1: Institutional Features and Substantive Law, at 321 (2008).
1088 eyal benvenisti

developed their own expectations, and the typically complex and

protracted efforts necessary for the implementation of the relevant
agreement.9 In situations of mass violations, indigenous institutions
must be involved as investment in infrastructure is crucial for address-
ing the individuals’ concerns and ensuring their rehabilitation: roads
must be paved, school opened, jobs generated, etc. Public funding for
such heavy investments and close supervision and implementation is a
necessity. Cash payments to individuals must be accompanied by agen-
cies which administer savings funds and limit short-term spending to
ensure the long-term availability of funds and prevent inflation.10 Most
important is the desire to establish sustainable peaceful relations, and
that requires a forward-looking approach.11
Diplomatic protection is the preferable route for addressing the con-
sequences of violations of IHL from both the perspective of the victim
and that of the wrongdoer. As far as the victims are concerned,
Emanuela-Chiara Gillard notes that “[E]ven if it were generally
accepted that individuals have a directly enforceable right to reparation
before national courts, it is not realistic to believe that this would mean
that all victims would receive compensation. In conflicts marked by
serious and widespread violations of international humanitarian law,
victims are too numerous for such a system to work”.12
Gillard also discusses the numerous procedural and practical hur-
dles which victims must overcome, including lack of awareness of the
availability of judicial proceedings, limited time-frames within which
claims can typically be brought, difficulties in enforcing judgments,
and “the very real risk, particularly in the immediate post-conflict
period, that victims may be reluctant to bring proceedings for fear of
reprisals”.13 She also notes that “the practice of international bodies

9
 On the implementation phase as crucial for ensuring effective IDP solutions
see e.g. P. Weiss Fagen, Peace Processes and IDP Solutions, 28 Refugee Survey Quarterly
31 (2009).
10
 R. Klinov, Reparations and Rehabilitation of Palestinian Refugees in Israel
and the Palestinian Refugees in: E. Benvenisti/C. Gans/S. Hanafi (eds.), Israel and the
Palestinian Refugees, 323, at 343–344 (2007).
11
 R. Dolzer, The Settlement of War-Related Claims: Does International Law
Recognize a Victim’s Private Right of Action? Lessons after 1945, 20 Berkeley Journal
of International Law 296, at 300–338 (2002). E. Benvenisti/E. Zamir, Private Claims for
Property Rights in the Future Israeli-Palestinian Settlement, 89 American Journal of
International Law 295, at 334 (1995).
12
 E-C. Gillard, Reparation for Violations of International Humanitarian Law,
85 International Review of the Red Cross 529, at 549 (2003).
13
Id., at 539.
 individual remedies for victims of armed conflicts1089

providing remedies to victims of violations of IHL is ad hoc and is not

organized. There is no general mechanism that would allow victims to
assert their rights under IHL.”14 The 2009 Final Award of the Ethiopia
Eritrea Claims Commission15 emphasized the human rights-based
obligation to take into account the impact of very large awards on the
wrongdoer country’s population.16 Comprehensive agreements often
need to address conflicting individual claims–as well as conflicting
group claims–in the context of resolving long-standing conflicts involv-
ing refugees or internally displaced persons. As the Grand Chamber of
the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) recently remarked, with
respect to property rights of refugees in Cyprus, “some thirty-five years
after the applicants or their predecessors in title left their property, it
would risk being arbitrary and injudicious for [the Court] to attempt to
impose an obligation on the respondent State to effect restitution in all
cases, or even in all cases save those in which there is material impos-
sibility… It cannot be within this Court’s task in interpreting and apply-
ing the provisions of the Convention to impose an unconditional
obligation on a Government to embark on the forcible eviction and
rehousing of potentially large numbers of men, women and children
even with the aim of vindicating the rights of victims of violations of
the Convention.”17

14
 Gillard further notes that the relevant principles concerning reparations for IHL
violations “relate to the obligation of one State to make reparation to another State for
violations of international humanitarian law committed by that State and its agents.
The payment received can cover both the losses suffered by the State itself and those of
its nationals. This is the approach traditionally adopted by peace treaties, which often
include, for individuals who have suffered losses, lump-sum payments that the recipi-
ent State is responsible for distributing.” Id., at 535. See also L. Zegweld, Remedies for
Victims of Violations of International Humanitarian Law, 85 International Review of
the Red Cross 497 (2003).
15
 Ethiopia Eritrea Claims Commission, Final Award between the State of Eritrea
and the Federal Democratic Republic of Ethiopia, Eritrea’s Damages Claims, 17 August
2009, 26 Reports of International Arbitral Awards 505 (2008).
16
Id., paras. 21–22. The Award adds (para. 21): “In this regard, the prevailing prac-
tice of States in the years since the Treaty of Versailles has been to give very significant
weight to the needs of the affected population in determining amounts sought as post-
war reparations.” Tomuschat (note 2), at 177–180, reminds us, that “the economic
capacity of the wrongdoing state must be taken into account… states are not abstract
entities, but rather are made up of human beings… The individual member of a wrong-
doing state is frequently as innocent as the citizen of a foreign country, and has little
chance to influence decisions made at the national level.”
17
 ECHR, Demopoulos and Others v. Turkey, Decision of 1 March 2010, Appl. No.
46113/99 et al., para. 116. Jeremy Waldron argues for “the supersession thesis”,
namely that “certain things that were unjust when they occurred may be overtaken by
1090 eyal benvenisti

Agreements negotiated by accountable representatives stand a fair

chance of achieving goals of the constituencies to which they are
accountable, without disproportionately impinging on victims’ rights.
This has been the experience of virtually all societies which have made
the transition from war or oppression to liberal democracies.18 The
concern is that granting directly enforceable rights to individuals
would enable claimants to highjack the peace agreement. Ultimately, as
Pierre d’Argent argues, such agreements are more than the sum of the
individual claims:
“[I]t is not only the fate of a collection of individuals which is at stake
when redressing massive traumatic events of the past–it is also the pre-
sent, and the future, of societies as such. As long as it is presumed and
accepted that state authorities duly represent the interests of their peo-
ple, history should not be written in advance by rigid international
legal principles that would preclude final settlements. Nations should
be left the right to choose how to construct their future”.19
It is not only individuals who might highjack the agreement: in most
if not all cases, the negotiating governments would face domestic
opposition groups which would oppose the agreements and would try
to convince the public that the agreement is flawed. Because negotiated
agreements are likely to offer victims less than full redress,20 the rheto-
ric of rights would be abused by the political opponents of the negotiat-
ing parties to solidify popular resistance to conciliation.

II. Current Doctrine

This section suggests that the policy reasons outlined above are reflected
in contemporary international law. The main IHL treaties, namely The
IV Hague Convention of 1907, the Geneva Conventions of 1949, and
Additional Protocol I to the Geneva Conventions of 1977, address the

events in a way that means their injustice has been superseded”: Settlement, Return,
and the Supersession Thesis, 5 Theoretical Inquiries in Law 237, at 240 (2004). See also
Y. Ronen, The Dispossessed and the Distressed: Conflicts in Land-Related Rights in
Transitions from Unlawful Territorial Regimes, in: E. Brems (Ed.) Conflicts Between
Fundamental Rights 521, at 545 (2008).
18
 R. Teitel, Transitional Justice, at 119 (2000).
19
P. d’Argent, Wrongs of the Past (note 7), at 288.
20
 Marco Sassòli, The Implementation of International Humanitarian Law: Current
and Inherent Challenges, 10 Yearbook of International Humanitarian Law 45, 70
(2007). Sassòli points out that in most compensation programs, the disparity between
the rhetoric of full compensation and the reality of the deal that is ultimately reached
creates false expectations among those who have suffered.
 individual remedies for victims of armed conflicts1091

relationships between states parties to military conflict. They assume

that states are responsible for their nationals and will protect them as
they deem fit. This is made clear by the well-known concept
of “Protected Persons” defined in Article 4 of Geneva Convention IV of
1949, which excludes from the ambit of responsibility nationals
of states who have normal diplomatic representation in the State in
whose hands they are.21 In addition, as Albrecht Randelzhofer has
pointed out, the IV Hague Convention of 1907 and the 1949 Geneva
Convention assume that these conventions contain no direct obliga-
tions toward individuals.22 This position has been endorsed by courts
in the United States.23 And while courts in other jurisdictions (e.g.
Israel) have recognized the standing of individuals to invoke IHL
norms, this has not meant that these individuals had direct rights under
the conventions, but rather is a reflection of the fact that in those juris-
dictions standing requires a show of interest, rather than of a right.
Even if, as is not the case, the primary responsibility under IHL
involves direct obligations to individuals, IHL contains no secondary
obligations to compensate individuals for breaches of those primary
obligations. Article 3 of the IV Hague Convention of 1907 obliges par-
ties which violate IHL “if the case demands … to pay compensation”.24
It is obvious to all but one of the commentators that this Article refers
to liability among states, rather than between states and individuals,25
and even he concedes that subsequent IHL treaties, namely the Geneva
Conventions of 1949 and Additional Protocol I of 1977, rejected the
possibility of recognizing individual claims.26 Indeed, the Geneva

21
 Art. 4 provides “…Nationals of a neutral State who find themselves in the terri-
tory of a belligerent State, and nationals of a co-belligerent State, shall not be regarded
as protected persons while the State of which they are nationals has normal diplomatic
representation in the State in whose hands they are.”
22
 A. Randelzhofer, The Legal Position of the Individual under Present International
Law, in: A. Randelzhofer/C. Tomuschat (eds.), State Responsibility and the Individual,
231, at 241 (1999).
23
See Princz v. F.R.G., 26 F.3d 1166 (D. C. Cir. 1994), cert. denied, 513 U.S. 1121
(1995); Goldstar (Panama) S.A. v. United States, 967 F. 2d 965 (4th Cir., 1992),
Randelzhofer, id.
24
 Article 3 of the IV Hague Convention of 1907 (“A belligerent party which violates
the provisions of the [Hague] Regulations shall, if the case demands, be liable to pay
compensation”).
25
The sole standout is Fritz Kalshoven: F. Kalshoven, State Responsibility for
Warlike Acts of the Armed Forces: From Article 3 of Hague Convention IV of 1907 to
Article 91 of Additional Protocol I of 1977 and Beyond, 40 International and
Comparative Law Quarterly 827 (1991).
26
See id. at 837, 846.
1092 eyal benvenisti

Conventions assume that individuals have no directly enforced rights

even against grave breaches committed by a foreign state.27 Article 91
of Additional Protocol I, which reproduces Article 3 of the Hague
Convention verbatim, also assumes that states have exclusive jurisdic-
tion to resolve outstanding claims for reparations.28
In its 2004 Advisory Opinion on the Legal Consequences of the
Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian Territory,29 the
International Court of Justice (ICJ) referred to individual losses as a
consequence of IHL breaches. Addressing Israel’s responsibility for
breaches of IHL obligations and for the losses incurred by individual
Palestinians, the ICJ stated that Israel “has the obligation to make repa-
ration for the damage caused to all the natural or legal persons con-
cerned”30 and found that these reparations could entail “compensation
or other forms of reparation for the Palestinian population”.31 The
Court added that “Israel has an obligation to compensate the persons
[whose property was damaged] for the damage suffered [and] also …
an obligation to compensate … all natural or legal persons having suf-
fered any form of material damage as a result of the wall’s construc-
tion”.32 Although some, including the ILA in its 2010 report,33 saw these
references as heralding a breakthrough with respect to the recognition
of direct rights to individuals, this is hardly the case: that Israel has an
obligation to make reparation to individuals does not in itself indicate
that the holders of the right are the individuals who should be compen-
sated. The Court at one point referred to “the Palestinian population”
(rather than individual Palestinians) as the party to whom the obliga-
tion was owed. Furthermore, the Court emphasized that Israel’s obliga-
tions are “in accordance with the applicable rules of international
law”,34 and in line with the “customary law” which was laid down by the
Permanent Court of International Justice.35 It must be recalled that,

27
See e.g. the ICRC Commentaries to the 1st Geneva Convention Article 51,
at 373.
28
ICRC Commentary to Art. 91, at 1053. In support of the view that these instru-
ments do not recognize individual rights see C. Tomuschat, Human Rights: Between
Idealism and Realism at 369 (2nd ed., 2008), Dolzer (note 11), at 308.
29
ICJ Reports 2004, 136.
30
Id., para. 152.
31
Id., para. 151.
32
Id., para. 153.
33
ILA Report (note 1), at 16.
34
ICJ Reports (note 29), para. 153.
35
Id., para. 152, citing Factory at Chorzów, Merits, Judgment No. 13, 1928, P.C.I.J.,
Series A, No. 17, at 47.
 individual remedies for victims of armed conflicts1093

in the specific context of the Israel-Palestinian conflict, the individual

Palestinians are not nationals of a recognized state which could have
had standing to exercise diplomatic protection on behalf of its citizens,
and the Court had to get round the problem of lacking a recognized
state which could be regarded as the right holder. Therefore, at the very
least, this unique situation cannot give rise to general conclusions
about the significance of the Court’s reference to the obligation to make
reparations. Had the Court wanted to develop a generally applicable
individual right to reparation, it could have seized this occasion to
elaborate on this issue. The lack of elaboration, as well as the silence on
this matter in the opinions of the individual judges, clearly indicates
the Court’s endorsement of the legal status quo on this matter.
Similarly, the national courts of most countries deny the existence of
individual rights under IHL for IHL violations, confirming that “noth-
ing in the Hague Convention even impliedly grants individuals the
right to seek damages for violation of [its] provisions”.36 This common
position was recognized by courts in the US,37 Japan,38 and Germany.39
Indeed, even national courts which recognized that individuals could
sue for damages under domestic tort law conceded that IHL did not
generally grant an individual right to compensation. In 2002 the Italian
Court of Cassation found that in Italy it was not possible to invoke
international law for damage sustained as a result of a violation of the
rules of international law.40 Even the much criticized judgment of the
Greek Supreme Court which rejected the immunity of Germany from
tort liability under Greek law acknowledged that “claims for reparation
of damages resulting from armed conflict, the core of which is usually
comprised of a conflict between states, which necessarily strikes non-
combatant populations … are regulated by the usual international
agreements [concluded] after the war for practical reasons (avoidance

36
 Dolzer (note 11), at 308. See also R. Provost, International Human Rights and
Humanitarian Law, at 46–48 (2002).
37
Princz v. F.R.G., 26 F.3d 1166 (D. C. Cir. 1994), cert. denied, 513 U.S. 1121
(1995).
38
S.H. Bong, Compensation for Victims of Wartime Atrocities Recent Developments
in Japan’s Case Law, 3 Journal of International Criminal Justice 187 (2005).
39
BVerfG, Case No. 2 BvR 955/00, Decision of 26 October 2004, BVerfGE 112, 1,
available at: http://www.bverfg.de/entscheidungen/rs20041026_2bvr095500en.html.
This is also the position of the German Federal Supreme Court in the Varvarin case,
BGH, Case No. III ZR 190/05, Judgement of 2 November 2006, BGHZ 169, 348.
40
See the description of the Italian judgment by the ECHR in Case of Markovic and
others v. Italy, Judgment of 14 December 2006, Appl. No. 1398/03, para. 106.
1094 eyal benvenisti

of overflow of actions from the one side and counter-actions from the
other side)”.41
While courts in several jurisdictions do recognize the right to
compensation for damage under domestic tort law they also recognize
doctrines of sovereign immunity which immunize the domestic or the
foreign sovereign (or both) from suit. As is well known, the courts in
Greece42 and Italy43 have declared exceptions to foreign state immu-
nity for jus cogens violations perpetrated in the forum state, but these
opinions were viewed by other courts as inaccurate and out of line
with the prevailing jurisprudence,44 and the issue is now pending before
the ICJ.45
The ECHR has also directly and indirectly recognized and endorsed
the prevailing interpretation. In 2007 the 5th Chamber of the ECHR
stated in a unanimous opinion that neither the 1907 IV Hague
Convention nor the 1977 First Protocol to the 1949 Geneva Conventions
provided for an individual right to compensation for war crimes.46
A year earlier, while rejecting Markovic’s claim against Italy, the ECHR
Grand Chamber cited with approval the position of the Italian Court of
Cassation, according to which individuals had no direct rights under
IHL, and therefore could not sue governments for breaches of IHL,
stating that “the statement that the 1977 Protocol regulates relations
between States is true”.47

41
Prefecture of Voiotia v. Federal Republic of Germany, Areios Pagos [Supreme
Court], Case No. 11/2000, May 4, 2000, ILDC 287 (GR 2000), para. 10. The Greek
court did recognize an exception in cases of deliberate attacks on civilians in occupied
territories (id.).
42
Prefecture of Voiotia (Note 41).
43
Criminal proceedings against Milde, Appeal judgment, Case No. 1072/2009; ILDC
1224 (IT 2009), (2009) 92 Riv. dir. Int. 618, 13 January 2009; Ferrini v. Germany, Appeal
decision, no 5044/4; ILDC 19 (IT 2004).
44
Jones v. Ministry of Interior (Kingdom of Saudi Arabia) [2006] UKHL, para. 22
(H.L., per Lord Bingham:) “The Ferrini decision cannot in my opinion be treated as an
accurate statement of international law as generally understood; and one swallow does
not make a rule of international law. The more closely-reasoned decisions in are to the
contrary effect.”
45
ICJ, Case concerning Jurisdictional Immunities (Germany v. Italy), Application of
the Federal Republic of Germany (23 December 2008), General List No. 143, available
at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/143/14923.pdf.
46
“Whatever sufferings the applicants’ forced labour brought about, none of the
Conventions referred to by the applicants establishes any individual claims for com-
pensation.” Associazione nazionale Reduci dalla Prigionia v. Germany (Appl. No.
45563/04) (2007).
47
“Although it is not [the ECHR’s] role to express any view on the applicability
of the 1977 Protocol [I] …, the Court notes that the [Italian] Court of Cassation’s
 individual remedies for victims of armed conflicts1095

Finally, even if one could argue that a personal right to remedies for
violations of IHL breaches was recognized, it would be even more dif-
ficult to suggest that positive international law provided for specific
remedies such as full compensation or the restitution of property taken
in violation of IHL. Note that the ICJ, in its Wall Advisory Opinion,
referred to “compensation or other forms of reparation”,48 and that
under the prevailing doctrine compensation “must be assessed in light
of the actual social and economic circumstances of the injured indi-
viduals [and the] difficult economic conditions found in the affected
areas”.49
As to how victims’ claims are dealt with, governments generally
choose to settle mass claims resulting from wartime dislocation of
individuals by entering into agreements which provide for lump-sum
compensation. The recipient state may then through legislation estab-
lish a national claims commission to adjudicate on private claims for a
share of the reparation received. In 1988 Richard Lillich and Burns
Weston noticed that “in the last 40 years this procedural device has
become, without doubt, the paramount vehicle for settling interna-
tional claims”.50 In 2008, Van Houtte et al. reported that “[s]ince the
second World War, payment of lump sums has become the primary
means of settling claims for reparation of damage caused to individu-
als”.51 Since the 1990s, another model for compensating individual
claimants has emerged, namely the compensation commission. The
first of these was the United Nations Compensation Commission,
which was established in 1991 to deal with claims against Iraq stem-
ming from its invasion and occupation of Kuwait.52 The Commission
combined elements of both international and national claims commis-
sions. However, it did not deal directly with individual petitions.
Instead, national governments collected and submitted their citizens’

comments on the international conventions do not appear to contain any errors of

interpretation. … the statement that the 1977 Protocol regulates relations between
States is true.” Case of Markovic (note 40), para. 109.
48
ICJ Reports (note 29), para. 151.
49
 Eritrea-Ethiopia Award (note 15), para. 26.
50
 R. Lillich/B. Weston, Lump Sum Agreements: Their Continuing Contribution
to the Law of International Claims, 82 American Journal of International Law 69,
at 70 (1988).
51
Van Houtte et al. (note 8), at 307.
52
The United Nations Compensation Commission, established by SC Res. 692 of
20 May 1991, reprinted in 30 ILM 846 (1991). This Resolution followed SC Res. 687
of 3 April 1991 reprinted in 30 ILM 846 (1991).
1096 eyal benvenisti

and residents’ claims, and the Commission awarded compensation to

each government, based on its consolidated claim and on the available
funds. Other commissions which were set up are the Commission for
Displaced Persons and Refugees set up in the Dayton Accords of 1995
(with the mandate to receive and decide on claims for return of the
property in Bosnia or for just compensation in lieu of return53), and the
Eritrea-Ethiopia Claims Commission established by the 2000 peace
agreement between the two countries.54 A similar framework of a prop-
erty board and a compensation bureau to deal with the compensation
issues was envisaged in the Annan Plan for Cyprus.55 Either through
lump sum agreements or claims commissions, these collective arrange-
ments require exclusivity in the treatment of all outstanding claims.56
As van Houtte et al. indicate, exclusive compensation regimes benefit
both the “defendant” states and the claimants.57

III. Reparations for Violations of Jus Cogens Norms

As discussed above, the policy reasons which support the distinction
between the primary and secondary norms relating to general viola-
tions of IHL and human rights (IHRL) norms apply with equal force to
jus cogens violations. The concern which has always informed both
domestic remedial norms and the international one–that it would be
unjust to correct one wrong by creating another–also informs contem-
porary international law as it relates to the remedies for jus cogens vio-
lations. The opposite assertion, namely that breaches of jus cogens
norms yield inalienable individual rights to reparations, is logically
flawed and this flaw has been acknowledged by the ICJ, the ECHR, the
ECJ and national courts.58 Logically, this assertion conflates primary

53
 Article XI of Annex 7 (the mandate covered “any claims for real property
in Bosnia and Herzegovina, where the property has not voluntarily been sold or other-
wise transferred since April 1, 1992, and where the claimant does not now enjoy
possession of that property. Claims may be for return of the property or for just com-
pensation in lieu of return.”).
54
For note 15.
55
See the description in the Demopoulos case (note 17).
56
Van Houtte et al. (note 8), at 125.
57
Id.
58
See ICJ, Case Concerning the Arrest Warrant of 11 April 2000 (Democratic
Republic of Congo v. Belgium), ICJ Reports 2002, 3; ECHR, Al-Adsani v. United
Kingdom, Judgment of 21 November 2001, Appl. No. 35763/97; ECJ: (Second Chamber)
Case C-292/05, Lechouritou and Others v. Federal Republic of Germany, 2007 ECR
I-1519; House of Lords: Jones (Respondent) v. Ministry of Interior (Kingdom of Saudi
Arabia) (Appellants) [2006] UKHL 26, [2007] 1 All E.R. 113 (H.L.); German Federal
Constitutional Court (2004) (note 39).
 individual remedies for victims of armed conflicts1097

and secondary norms. The fact that a primary norm is protected by a

special rule–jus cogens–does not necessarily imply that the secondary
norm, which relates to the consequences of the breach, enjoys the same
properties. But there can be no logical inference from the assertion that
certain norms are non-derogable to the conclusion that there can be no
limitations on the consequences of unlawful derogations. While it is,
for example, a violation of jus cogens to agree to act aggressively towards
a third country, it is not necessarily a jus cogens violation to negotiate
on the exact reparations for the consequences of an act of aggression.
The various considerations which led to the recognition of the distinc-
tion between, on the one hand, the primary protection of IHL and
IHRL and, on the other, the secondary norms concerning remedies for
breaches of those norms are also valid in the context of violation of jus
cogens norms. It is generally accepted that “States may waive reparation
of any violation of international law or of any type of damage”.59
Existing case law supports this observation. The gap between the
peremptory character of the primary jus cogens norm and the more
nuanced secondary norms is exemplified in the ICJ’s Arrest Warrant
case, where the ICJ rejected the assertion that the peremptory nature of
the prohibition on crimes against humanity required the lifting of the
immunity of a foreign head of state.60 In a similar vein, in 2007 a unani-
mous judgment of the ECJ found that the 1978 Brussels Convention on
Jurisdiction and the Enforcement of Judgments in Civil and Commercial
Matters cannot be interpreted as derogating from a foreign state’s sov-
ereign immunity even for claims alleging war crimes.61 The German
Constitutional Court offered another basis for distinguishing between
the primary jus cogens norm and the consequences of its violation.
According to the Court, in the aftermath of a jus cogens violation, states
have a duty to cooperate to mitigate the breach of peremptory law as far
as possible.62 The most recent state practice in the context of grave vio-
lations of IHL supports these conclusions. Although the Eritrea-
Ethiopia Claims Commission dealt with most disturbing findings of

59
Van Houtte et al. (note 8), at 306; See also P. d’Argent, Les réparations de guerre
(note 7), at 773.
60
 Arrest Warrant (note 58).
61
 Lechouritou, (note 58), para. 46.
62
BVerfG (note 39), para. 122 (“[I]f a factually established situation and differing
political interests are involved, the states have merely a duty to cooperate with regard
to the consequences. Behind this duty of cooperation is the consideration that it is
urgently necessary to create a situation that, while safeguarding the interests on both
sides, does actually mitigate the breach of peremptory law as far as possible”).
1098 eyal benvenisti

grave breaches of IHL, including mass expulsions, rape and intentional

killings, it recognized its exclusive authority to address the questions of
reparations and the “full authority” of the states parties to determine
the use and distribution of any damages awarded to them for injuries
sustained by their nationals.63
The ILC Articles on State Responsibility are also careful to distin-
guish between the peremptory nature of the primary norms and the
consequences which result from their breach. Article 41 (3), which dis-
cusses particular consequences of a serious breach of obligations aris-
ing under peremptory norms of general international law, stops short
of indicating stricter consequences with respect to reparations. By stip-
ulating that Article 41 is “without prejudice to the other consequences
referred to in this Part and to such further consequences that a breach
to which this chapter applies may entail under international law”, the
Article, according to the Commentary, “allows for such further conse-
quences of a serious breach as may be provided for by international law
[without] intend[ing] to preclude the future development of a more
elaborate regime of consequences entailed by such breaches”.64 Stated
differently, this language endorses the view that contemporary interna-
tional law does not yet reflect a specific regime governing reparations
for breaches of peremptory norms.

C. The Utility of Recent Soft Law Challenges

I. “Soft” Efforts to Reshape the Law on Remedies for IHL Violations

In recent years, attention has increasingly been drawn to the fact that
attempts to redress IHL violations tend to fail, and this has given rise to
efforts to reinterpret IHL as recognizing secondary rights for individ-
ual victims. There have been attempts to refine and strengthen the rem-
edies available to refugees. The various soft law instruments which
were adopted, while recognizing the victims’ rights, accepted the prin-
ciple that a negotiated peace settlement which provided for a combina-
tion of restitution and compensation would validly extinguish private
property rights. Principle 29 of the UNHCR’s 1998 Guiding Principles

63
See Decision No. 8 “Relief to War Victims” from 27 July 2007, available at: http://
www.pca-cpa.org/showpage.asp?pag_id=1151.
64
ILC Commentary on Draft Articles on the Responsibility of States for Inter­
nationally Wrongful Acts, commentary on Article 41, para. 14.
 individual remedies for victims of armed conflicts1099

on Internal Displacement recommends that “[w]hen recovery of [inter-

nally displaced persons’] property and possessions is not possible,
competent authorities shall provide or assist these persons in obtaining
appropriate compensation or another form of just reparation”.65 The
UN Sub-Commission on the Promotion and Protection of Human
Rights’ Principles on Housing and Property Restitution for Refugees
and Displaced Persons (the so-called Pinheiro Principles)66 acknowl-
edges that “States shall, in order to comply with the principle of restora-
tive justice, ensure that the remedy of compensation is only used when
the remedy of restitution is not factually possible, or when the injured
party knowingly and voluntarily accepts compensation in lieu of resti-
tution, or when the terms of a negotiated peace settlement provide for a
combination of restitution and compensation”.67 The precedence of a
negotiated peace settlement over the wishes of the injured party cannot
be made more explicit.
In 2006 the General Assembly of the United Nations adopted a reso-
lution on Basic Principles and Guidelines on the Right to a Remedy
and Reparation for Victims of Gross Violations of International Human
Rights Law and Serious Violations of International Humanitarian
Law.68 While emphasizing the need to offer more adequate remedies
for the suffering of individuals, the Resolution does not assume that
these individuals have such rights under the law. It does, however, pro-
vide (in Article 12) that victims “shall have equal access to an effective
judicial remedy as provided for under international law”. It also stipu-
lates (Article 15) that “a State shall provide reparation to victims for
acts or omissions which can be attributed to the State and constitute
gross violations of international human rights law or serious violations
of international humanitarian law”, but adds that these obligations will
be implemented “[i]n accordance with its domestic laws and interna-
tional legal obligations”. In other words, there is no explicit call in the
Resolution for a change in the prevailing international law. That indi-
vidual rights are subject to general international law constraints and
also to pragmatic ones is made clear in Article 18 of the Resolution,

65
See W. Kälin, Guiding Principles on Internal Displacement Annotations, at 128
(2008).
66
 UN Doc. E/CN.4/Sub.2/2005/17 (2005).
67
 Article 21.1 emphasis added.
68
 GA Res. 60/147 of 16 December 2005, Annex: Basic Principles and Guidelines on
the Right to a Remedy and Reparation for Victims of Gross Violations of International
Human Rights Law and Serious Violations of International Humanitarian Law.
1100 eyal benvenisti

which incorporates several qualifiers into its call for effective

reparations:
“[i]n accordance with domestic law and international law, and taking
account of individual circumstances, victims of gross violations of inter-
national human rights law and serious violations of international
humanitarian law should, as appropriate and proportional to the gravity
of the violation and the circumstances of each case, be provided with full
and effective reparation …” (emphases added).
As Tomuschat suggested, this text has a “no more than hortatory
function” against which no objections can be raised, and which there-
fore “did not yield the results expected by its promoters”.69
In the summer of 2010 the ILA adopted a Declaration of Inter­
national Law Principles on Reparation for Victims of Armed Conflict
(Substantive Issues).70 The Declaration proposes the principle that “[v]
ictims of armed conflict have a right to reparation from the responsible
parties”.71 The ILA acknowledges the progressive character of this
Declaration. In his introduction to the 2008 version of the Report,72
Rainer Hofmann, the Co-Rapporteur of the relevant ILA Committee,
emphasized that under contemporary international law individuals did
not have rights with respect to IHL violations.73 But in the preamble to
the 2010 version, the hesitation is less pronounced, and the Committee
“submits that the situation is changing”.74 What is striking, however, is
that the only event which took place in the interim which is referred to
in the 2010 Report is the publication of the Award of the Ethiopia
Eritrea Claims Commission,75 which was based on an inter-state agree-
ment and which provided for a lump-sum award to the respective gov-
ernments. The 2010 judgment of the ECHR in the Demopoulos case,76
which refutes the ILA approach, is not mentioned. The drafters of the
ILA Report made noticeable efforts to find evidence of developing state
practice that the law was changing, to the point that they were less than
careful in examining some of the legal sources they relied on. This can

69
 Tomuschat (note 2), at 371–372.
70
ILA Report (note 1).
71
 Article 6; see also ILA Report (note 1).
72
Presented at the ILA Rio de Janeiro Conference (2008), available at http://www
.ila-hq.org/download.cfm/docid/0128BA4F-C0A3-43C0-ADAD76A989965AFF.
73
 R. Hofmann, Preliminary Remarks, id., at 2.
74
Id.
75
 Ethiopia Eritrea Award (note 15).
76
 Demopoulos (note 17).
 individual remedies for victims of armed conflicts1101

be seen in the Report’s cursory treatment of the ICJ’s Palestinian Wall

Advisory Opinion,77 and in their reliance on the ECHR decision in
Markovic v. Italy.78 They refer to the latter as “tend[ing] towards the
recognition of an individual right to reparation” because the Court
“entertained the possibility that ‘as a result of changes in case-law, it has
been possible to claim such a right since 2004’”.79 But this is not quite
what the ECHR said. In the quoted passage, the ECHR merely assumes
for the sake of argument (“[e]ven if the applicants’ assertion is correct”)
that since 2004 it had been possible to sue in Italy for IHL violations
under Italian tort law (and not under international law!).80 And as
mentioned above,81 the ECHR decision actually supports the opposite
proposition from the one endorsed by the ILA Report, namely that
individuals have no direct rights under IHL. One cannot but surmise
that the true basis for the ILA position lies in the teleological argument
that “the individual, who already enjoys strong protection under inter-
national human rights law, should have a weaker position under the
rules of international law applicable in armed conflict”.82
But the underlying premise is problematic: it does not recognize a
secondary right to remedies under international law (as opposed to a
right under domestic law). As will be outlined in the following section,
the secondary rights regime under human rights treaties leaves consid-
erable discretion to states parties and to the competent courts.

II. Individual Remedies and State Discretion

under Human Rights Regimes
The same strong policy reasons which support the position that IHL
does not recognize individual rights to reparations play out also in the
human rights sphere. Even under human rights treaty regimes courts
hesitate to interfere in negotiated solutions (existing or potential)
which entail comprehensive settlement of private claims. This hesita-
tion begins with the discretionary nature of reparations for human
rights violations. Human rights treaty regimes do recognize member
states’ obligation to provide remedies for individuals for breaches of

77
ILA Report (note 1), at 16.
78
ICJ Reports (note 29).
79
ILA Report (note 1), at 17.
80
 ECHR (note 40), para. 111.
81
 Text to ECHR Judgment (note 47).
82
ILA Report (note 1), at 18 et seq.
1102 eyal benvenisti

primary obligations, but this obligation is to provide remedies under

domestic law.83 Moreover, as the ECHR stated, member states “are in
principle free to choose the means whereby they will comply with a
judgment in which the [ECHR] has found a breach. This discretion as
to the manner of execution of a judgment reflects the freedom of choice
attaching to the primary obligation of the Contracting States under the
Convention”.84 As Tomuschat pointed out, no full secondary right to
reparation for the infringement of a primary right exists under human
rights treaties, as even the most highly developed regional treaties sub-
ject the entitlement to compensation to the discretion of the competent
courts.85 The ECHR “repeatedly stated that [individual] applicants are
not entitled to an award of just compensation, rather the Court has
discretion to grant a remedy based on equitable considerations and the
facts of each case”.86 A similar grant of discretion is found in the
American Convention of Human Rights.87 Although the Inter-
American Court has not asserted its complete discretion it instead
invoked the American Convention and general international law as the
basis for its discretion for granting remedies.88 The emerging jurispru-
dence on this question under IHRL suggests that these courts allow
states relatively wide discretion as to the outcome of negotiated peace
agreements which entail limitations on the wishes of individual victims
to seek specific types of reparations.
When states sign peace agreements which compromise on their citi-
zens’ claims for reparations they are deemed to have expropriated their
citizens’ property and this could entail responsibility under human
rights treaties. Applicants who complain against such takings before
the ECHR face that Court’s general doctrine on margin of apprecia-
tion. This doctrine is especially broad in the context of limitations on
property rights, where “because of their direct knowledge of their

83
 D. Shelton, Remedies in International Human Rights Law, at 115–116 (2nd ed.,
2005).
84
 ECHR, Case of Brumărescu v. Romania, Judgment of 23 January 2001, Appl. No.
28342/95, para. 20. See also Demopoulos and Others v. Turkey (note 17), para. 114.
85
 Tomuschat (note 2), at 371. Cf. R. Pisillo-Mazzeschi, International Obligations
to Provide for Reparation Claims?, in: Randelzhofer/Tomuschat (note 22), 149,
at 171(“individuals … have a right to reparation… within the international legal
order…only rarely, and with many restrictions”).
86
Shelton (note 83), at 196.
87
 Article 63 (1): “[The Inter-American Court] shall also rule, if appropriate, that the
consequence of the measure or situation that constituted the breach of such right or
freedom be remedies and that fair compensation be paid to the injured party.”
88
Shelton (note 83), at 353.
 individual remedies for victims of armed conflicts1103

society and its needs, the national authorities are in principle better
placed than the international judge to appreciate what is ‘in the public
interest’”.89 In Jahn and others v. Germany it stated that “the notion of
‘public interest’ is necessarily extensive. In particular, the decision to
enact laws expropriating property will commonly involve considera-
tion of political, economic and social issues. The ECHR, finding it nat-
ural that the margin of appreciation available to the legislature in
implementing social and economic policies should be a wide one, will
respect the legislature’s judgment as to what is ‘in the public interest’
unless that judgment is manifestly without reasonable foundation.”90
A similarly wide margin was recognized by the ECHR in the context of
the decision by the Greek Minister of Justice to prevent the enforce-
ment of judgments awarded to Greek civilians against Germany. The
ECHR rejected an application against the Minister’s decision as
“manifestly ill-founded” because the limitation on the applicants’
rights pursued the legitimate aim of observing international law in the
interest of good relations between states through respect for other
states’ sovereignty.91
This margin of appreciation is widest when individual rights are
taken in the context of peaceful settlements or transitional periods.92
The ECHR asserted that the margin of appreciation “applies necessar-
ily, if not a fortiori, to such radical changes as those occurring at the
time of German reunification”.93 It reiterated “that the State has a wide

89
 ECHR, Jahn and others v. Germany, Judgment of 22 January 2004, Appl. Nos.
46720/99, 72203/01 and 72552/01, para. 91; see also ECHR, von Maltzan and others v.
Germany, Decision of 2 March 2005, Appl. Nos. 71916/01, 71917/01 and 10260/02,
para. 77.
90
Jahn and others v. Germany (note 89), id.
91
Kalogeropoulou et al. v. Greece and Germany, Admissibility Decision of 12
December 2002, Appl. No. 59021/00, Part 1.D.1.a. under the heading “En Droit”. See A.
Reinisch, European Court Practice Concerning State Immunity from Enforcement
Measures, 17 EJIL 803, at 816 (2006).
92
For a similar policy see the decision of the European Commission of Human
Rights (ECommHR) to end the proceedings which Greece had brought against the UK
for alleged human rights violations in Cyprus after an agreement over the fate of the
island was reached. The ECommHR noted the “highest importance” of the settlement
for securing human rights and the concerns that continuing the inquiry “would neces-
sarily be attended by the risk of reviving some of the bitternesses of th[e] unhappy
period … and [that] some friction might be engendered by the continuance of an
investigation.” ECHR, Second Greek application against the UK, Appl. No. 299/57,
Report of July 8 1959, at 21–22.
93
Jahn and others (note 89), para. 91, von Maltzan and others (note 89), para. 77.
This margin of appreciation was also specifically acknowledged with regard to
economies in transition following the collapse of the communist regime (ECHR,
1104 eyal benvenisti

margin of appreciation when passing laws in the context of a change of

political and economic regime”,94 and subsequently recognized
“[Germany’s] margin of appreciation in the unique context of German
reunification”.95 This strong deference led the ECHR to uphold a law
which expropriated rights even when the German law provided no
compensation to the right holders. The same deferential attitude can be
seen in earlier decisions by the European Commission for Human
Rights rejecting applications by German owners of property in East
Germany,96 as well as applications of Sudeten Germans against the
signing of the agreements recognizing the Oder-Neiße frontier and
regularizing the relations between the Federal Republic of Germany
and its eastern neighbours in 1970 and 1973.97
Most recently, the ECHR discussed the claims of Greek Cypriots
who had been prevented by the Turkish authorities in northern
Cyprus from returning to their or their ancestors’ homes.98 In its
reasoning the Grand Chamber expresses the opinion that “a solution
on a political level” by “all parties assuming full responsibility” is pref-
erable, given the “political, historical and factual complexity” of the
problem, even if this were to entail a compromise which would leave
some property owners without access to the homes they or their ances-
tors lost during the 1974 war.99 Similar considerations led the Inter-
American Commission to endorse a “friendly settlement” which
entailed the resettlement in lieu of return of a community of indige-
nous Guatemalans uprooted from their homes by their government.100
The grounding of the remedies to individual victims of IHL viola-
tions under international law on a par with remedies for human rights

Hutten-Czapska v. Poland, Judgment of 19 June 2006, Appl. No. 35014/97, Schirmer v.

Poland; Judgment of 21 September 2004, Appl. No. 68880/01).
    94
Jahn and others (note 89), para. 113.
    95
Id., para. 125.
    96
 ECHR, Weidlich v. Germany, Order of 4 March 1996, Appl. Nos. 18890/91,
19048/91, 19049/91, 19342/92 and Appl. No. 19549/92 –Weidlich u.a. gegen
Deutschland, 49 Neue Juristische Wochenschrift, 2291, at 2292 (1996); See also
L. Loucaides, The Protection of the Right to Property in Occupied Territories, 53
International and Comparative Law Quarterly 677 (2008).
    97
 ECHR, X., Y. and Z. v. Federal Republic of Germany (Appl. Nos. 7655/76, 7656/76,
7657/76) (1977); ECHR, X. v. Federal Republic of Germany (Appl. No. 6742/74) (1975).
    98
Demopoulos and Others v. Turkey (note 17).
    99
Id., paras. 83–85, 116.
100
Petition 11.197, Friendly Settlement Community of San Vicente Los Cimientos
Guatemala, Report N° 68/03 of 10 October 2003, paras. 48–49 available at http://www
.cidh.oas.org/annualrep/2003eng/Guatemala.11197.htm.
 individual remedies for victims of armed conflicts1105

violations is therefore not likely to impose serious limitations on par-

ties which negotiate peace agreements. In fact, at a certain point the
ILA report acknowledges this when it explains that the Committee
ultimately decided to drop the claim, found in the draft version of the
Declaration, that victims are entitled to “full and prompt reparation”.101
Applied by responsible courts, a system which recognizes an individ-
ual right to reparations for IHL violations is not likely unduly to
restrict the discretion of parties which negotiate comprehensive settle-
ments. But courts may not always act responsibly,102 and potential
claimants may be emboldened by the rhetoric of rights and the prom-
ise of litigation, reject carefully designed agreements, and undermine
reconciliation.

D. Conclusion

The basic design flaw of IHL-based individual actions is the relation-

ship they create between the victims and the (formerly) enemy state.
Such rights do not bring finality to the conflict. Instead they allow a
minority of claimants to perpetuate the conflict with the former enemy
by transforming it into a protracted legal battle. To secure victims’
rights while ensuring finality to the armed conflict it is necessary to
focus attention on alternative remedies, which would give the negotiat-
ing parties the incentive to strike a fair and balanced agreement with-
out being unravelled by individual detractors. Such alternatives could
include guidelines for the proper functioning of compensation com-
missions,103 and rights to remedies under the domestic law of the state
of citizenship of the victim. In extreme situations it is possible also to
think about the responsibility of the state of citizenship under IHRL to
its citizens for not sufficiently protecting their interests in the compre-
hensive agreement. Soft law initiatives should hesitate to issue declara-
tions of rights which create false expectations and exacerbate political
hurdles.

101
ILA Report (note 1), at 20.
102
See Nemariam v. Federal Democratic Republic of Ethiopia, 315 F.3d 390
(D.C. Cir.), cert. denied, 124 S. Ct. 278 (2003) (finding the Eritrea-Ethiopia Claims
Commission an inadequate forum to adjudicate the claim of an IHL victim, and there-
fore rejecting a defence of forum non conveniens).
103
See M. Rau, State Liability for Violations of International Humanitarian Law–
The Distomo Case Before the German Federal Constitutional Court, 7 German Law
Journal 701 (2006)
 Die Einbindung der Bevölkerung in
Verfassungsänderungsprozessen – ein Überblick

Markus Böckenförde

A. Einleitung

Projekte zur Unterstützung von Verfassungsbildungsprozessen in post-

Konfliktstaaten wurden von Rüdiger Wolfrum vor knapp zehn Jahren
am Max-Planck-Institut in Heidelberg eingeführt. Sie haben sich
inzwischen zu einem zentralen Bestandteil der Tätigkeiten am Institut
im Bereich des „Globalen Wissenstransfers“ etabliert. Ein Teil der
Maßnahmen, die in Absprache mit den jeweiligen Regierungen umge-
setzt werden, beinhalten die Ausarbeitung von Vergleichsstudien zu
bestimmten verfassungsrechtlich relevanten Komponenten. Aufgabe
ist u.a. Verfassungsvorschriften zu einer bestimmten Thematik auszu-
werten und zu gruppieren, sodass sie von den verfassungsgebenden
Versammlungen als Grundlage und Diskussionsanstoß für Verhand-
lungen aufgenommen und verwertet werden können. Wichtig ist dabei
den Zuschnitt der Gruppierung so zu wählen, dass ein in dem jeweili-
gen Land politisch heftig debattierter Bereich strukturiert und nuan-
ciert verhandelt werden kann.
Der folgende Beitrag widmet sich der Ausgestaltung von Vorschrif-
ten zur Verfassungsänderung, der gewählte Zuschnitt ist Grad und
Ausmaß der Beteiligung der Bevölkerung in diesem Verfahren.
Vorschriften zur Verfassungsänderung geben Anlass zu verfassungs-
theoretischen Diskursen und sind Inhalt politischer Debatten in
Verfassungsgebungsprozessen.
Aus rechtstheoretischer Perspektive mag hierbei die Frage der
adäquaten Zuordnung im Vordergrund stehen: Soll eine Verfassungs-
änderung ebenso wie die Verfassungsgebung der konstituierenden
Gewalt vorbehalten bleiben, dem einfachen Gesetzgeber als Verfas-
sungsgesetz zugänglich sein oder zwischen Verfassungsgebung und
Gesetzgebung stehen?1 Angesichts des vorverfassungsrechtlichen

1
Siehe hierzu H. Maurer, Verfassungsänderung im Parteienstaat, in: K.-H. Kästner/
K.W. Nörr/K. Schlaich (Hrsg.), Festschrift für Martin Heckel, 821, 828 (1999).
1108 markus böckenförde

­Charakters des pouvoir constituant lässt sich die erste Variante nur
annäherungsweise umsetzen, z.B. indem die Bevölkerung Herrin eines
verfassungsrechtlichen Änderungsverfahrens ist.
Rechtspolitisch überwiegt das Interesse, eine Vorschrift zur Verfas-
sungsänderung so zu gestalten, dass eine kontextsensible Ausgewogen-
heit zwischen notwendiger Stabilität und erforderlicher Flexibilität
möglich ist. Zwei Extreme sind dabei zu vermeiden: Sind die Anforde-
rungen an eine Verfassungsänderung zu hoch,2 droht die Verfassung
zu versteinern. Sie kann nicht mehr den aktuellen Herausforderungen
und dem gesellschaftlichen Wertewandel Rechnung tragen. Dies kann
zu ihrer Entwertung führen, wenn sie zu einem formalen Rechtsgerüst
verkommt, dass die soziale Wirklichkeit nicht mehr abbilden kann.
Gelegentlich kann und wird einem solchen Änderungsdruck dann
durch Verfassungsanpassung über die relevanten Gerichte im Rahmen
der Verfassungsinterpretation begegnet. Das Beispiel USA zeigt, wie
eine Tätigkeit, die eigentlich dem verfassungsändernden Gesetzgeber
vorbehalten ist, zu Großteilen vom Supreme Court wahrgenommen
wird. Inwieweit dieses Gericht dann aber tatsächlich noch unter statt
über der Verfassung steht, bleibt fraglich.
Sind die Anforderungen hingegen zu niedrig, kann die Politik die in
der Verfassung festgelegten Bedingungen ihres Handelns nach Belie-
ben ihren politischen Interessen anpassen. Ein Bedeutungsverlust der
Verfassung droht, soweit sie dann nicht mehr der vorgegebene stabile
Rahmen ist, innerhalb dessen sich Politik zu vollziehen hat, sondern
zum Instrument des politischen Tagesgeschäfts verkommt.3
Die Suche nach und Diskussion um einen adäquaten Mittelweg kön-
nen auf verschiedene Weise unterstützt bzw. belebt werden. Zwei
Aspekte davon sollen in diesem Beitrag näher beleuchtet werden. Der
erste identifiziert und analysiert, wie bereits erwähnt, die unterschied-
lichen Formen, mit denen das Volk, die verfassungsgebende Gewalt,
zugleich als Akteur in Verfassungsänderungsprozesse eingebunden
werden kann, sei es mittelbar als Wahlvolk oder unmittelbar in der

2
Wann eine Bestimmung zur Verfassungsänderung als „zu hoch“ einzustufen ist,
lässt sich oft nur aus dem konkreten Kontext heraus bestimmen. So mag z.B. das Erfor-
dernis einer parlamentarischen 2/3 Mehrheit in Ländern mit zwei ähnlich starken, die
Legislative dominierenden Parteien bereits eine hohe Hürde darstellen (USA), wäh-
rend das selbe Erfordernis in anderen Ländern mit einer Massenpartei einfach zu
überkommen ist (Südafrika).
3
D. Grimm, Ist das Verfahren der Verfassungsänderung selbst änderungsbedürf-
tig?, 20 Humboldt Forum Recht 214, 217 (2007).
 die einbindung der bevölkerung1109

Verfassung institutionalisiert, sei es fakultativ oder obligatorisch. Dar-

gestellt werden mithin Modelle von Verfassungsänderungsverfahren,
die in unterschiedlicher Intensität die Bevölkerung einbinden. Der
zweite Aspekt untersucht eine Folgewirkung, die durch bestimmte
Zuschnitte von Verfassungsänderungsvorschriften entsteht. In vielen
Ländern gibt es keinen einheitlichen Änderungsprozess, sondern
unterschiedliche Anforderungen für unterschiedliche Verfassungsnor-
men, bis hin zum Änderungsverbot. Es kommt zu einer Hierarchisie-
rung verfassungsrechtlicher Normen, sei es durch unterschiedliche
formelle Anforderungen zur Verfassungsänderung oder durch die sub-
stantiell wirkende Einführung von „Ewigkeitsklauseln“. Auch dieser
zweite Aspekt kreist letztendlich um die Frage nach die Einbindung
und Mitwirkung des Volkes bei der Verfassungsänderung.

B. Der Pouvoir Constituant als Pouvoir Constitué: Die

Einbindung des Volkes in Verfassungsänderungsprozesse

Im Anschluss an die Schrift von Abbé Siéyès4 über den Dritten Stand
von 1789 unterscheidet die Staatsrechtlehre zwischen der pouvoir
constituant als konstituierende Gewalt und der pouvoir constitué als
konstituierte Gewalt. Die konstituierende Gewalt wird dabei als vor-
verfassungsrechtliche Größe verstanden, die die Macht und die Auto-
rität besitzt, eine die Grundlagen des Staates bestimmende Verfassung
zu geben und näher auszugestalten. Dem Prinzip der Volkssouveräni-
tät entsprechend liegt die verfassungsgebende Gewalt beim Volk.5 Die
konstituierten Gewalten sind dagegen jene Organe und Instanzen, die
im Wege der Verfassungsgebung geschaffen und mit bestimmten
Befugnissen ausgestattet werden, u.a. auch die gesetzgebende Gewalt.6
Zwischen beiden besteht eine gewisse Spannung, die sich bei der Dis-
kussion um die Ausgestaltung der Verfassungsänderung zuspitzt: Das
Volk, das die Verfassung als Inhaber der verfassungsgebenden Gewalt
erlässt ist ja identisch mit dem Volk, das nach dem Akt der Verfas-
sungsgebung seine Verfassung zumeist als Wählerschaft vollzieht und
durch die verfassten Gewalten als seine Repräsentanten vollziehen

4
 E.-J. Siéyès, Qu’est-ce que le tiers-état? (1789), deutsche Übersetzung in: L. Gall,
R. Koch (Hrsg.): Der europäische Liberalismus im 19. Jahrhundert. Texte zu seiner
Entwicklung, Band 3, 15–20 (1981).
5
Siehe hierzu Maurer (Fn. 1), 828.
6
 Id.
1110 markus böckenförde

lässt.7 Welche Volksidentität soll wie und zu welchem Grad in Verfas-

sungsänderungen eingebunden sein, wie sehr nähert sich das Volk als
Organ durch umfassende Befugnisse zur Verfassungsänderung dem
Volk als verfassungsgebendem Volk an? In Deutschland stellt sich diese
Frage nicht, da ihm innerhalb des verfassungsrechtlichen Rahmens
keine Einflussnahme in der Fortbildung der Verfassung zugebilligt
wird, die über einen insoweit entkoppelten8 vierjährigen Urnengang
hinausgeht. Viele Länder haben andere Wege beschritten.
Ausgangspunkt des folgenden rechtsvergleichenden Überblickes ist
daher, inwieweit das Volk bei Verfassungsänderungen Teil der verfass-
ten Gewalten ist und an diesem Prozess, mittelbar oder direkt, fakulta-
tiv oder obligatorisch, beteiligt ist. Durch die Einbindung agiert das
Volk nicht mehr vorstaatlich, sondern institutionalisiert, und je nach
Ausformulierung seiner Befugnisse als eine pouvoir constitué oder gar
als pouvoir constituant institué (im Unterschied zum pouvoir constitu-
ant originaire).9 Vier Kategorien lassen sich unterscheiden und sollen
folgend skizziert werden, einschließlich der mitunter mannigfachen
Nuancen, die sich innerhalb der jeweiligen Kategorie finden lassen.

I. Die fehlende Einbindung des Volkes

In einigen Verfassungen,10 das Grundgesetz eingeschlossen,11 erfolgt
eine Verfassungsänderung ausschließlich mit denselben Akteuren und
nach denselben Verfahren wie die normale Gesetzgebung. In Deutsch-
land besteht der einzige Unterschied in dem Erfordernis einer qualifi-
zierten Mehrheit von 2/3 der Mitglieder in beiden Kammern der
Legislativen. Da ein verlängertes Gesetzgebungsverfahren bei einer
Verfassungsänderung nicht verlangt wird,12 bleibt auch eine rechtlich

    7
So M. Heckel, Die Legitimation des Grundgesetzes durch das Deutsche Volk, in:
K. Schlaich (Hrsg.), Gesammelte Schriften. Staat Kirche Recht Geschichte, Band III,
35 (1997).
    8
 Zur Verknüpfung von Verfassungsänderung und Parlamentswahlen siehe unten
B.II.
    9
Siehe hierzu Maurer (Fn. 1), 832.
10
 Art. 144 der kroatischen Verfassung von 1990 in der Fassung von 2001; Art. 286
der portugiesischen Verfassung von 1976 in der Fassung von 2004; Art. 39 der tsche-
chischen Verfassung von 1992 in der Fassung von 2002; Art. 60 der brasilianischen
Verfassung von 1988 in der Fassung von 2010; Art. 37 der indonesischen Verfassung
von 1945 in der Fassung von 2002.
11
 Art. 79 (2) GG.
12
 Art. 131 der mazedonischen Verfassung von 1991 in der Fassung von 2001 ver-
langt den verabschiedeten Änderungsentwurf vor der endgültigen Abstimmung der
 die einbindung der bevölkerung1111

nicht intendierte, aber faktisch mögliche Einwirkung durch ein Teil des
Wahlvolkes gering. Diese ist denkbar durch die Zustimmungspflicht
des Bundesrates bei Verfassungsänderungen. Da sich die Zusammen-
setzung des Bundesrates im Anschluss an Landtagswahlen ändern
kann, wäre es dem Wahlvolk eines Bundeslandes möglich, Zünglein an
der Waage zu sein, soweit sich dadurch die Mehrheitskonstellation in
der zweiten Kammer entscheidend verschieben ließe. Eine anstehende
Verfassungsänderung könnte den Wahlkampf auf Landesebene prägen
und Teil der Wahlentscheidung werden.

II. Die mittelbare Einbindung des Volkes als Wahlvolk

In mehreren Ländern erstreckt sich der Verfassungsänderungsprozess
abgestuft über zwei Legislaturperioden. Dies ist eine bewusste
Entscheidung für die Einbindung des (Wahl-) volkes bei Verfassungs-
änderungen. Sie treten nur dann in Kraft, sofern das neugewählte Par-
lament sie noch will. Eine Änderung kann somit zum Wahlkampfthema
gemacht werden und den Wahlausgang beeinflussen. Dieser Gedanke
der mittelbaren Einbindung des Volkes in Verfassungsänderungspro-
zessen hat unterschiedliche Ausformungen gefunden. In einer Reihe
von Verfassungen ist ein Änderungsvorschlag vom gegenwärtigen Par-
lament mit der erforderlichen Mehrheit zu verabschieden, ohne
dass dies weitere Konsequenzen nach sich zieht. Erst nach der turnus-
mäßigen Neuwahl der Legislativen muss das neu zusammengesetzte
Parlament die Verfassungsänderung erneut mit der vorgeschrie­
benen Mehrheit verabschieden.13 Obgleich die Stellungnahme der

öffentlichen Debatte zuzuführen; Art. 60 der brasilianischen Verfassung von 1988 in

der Fassung von 2010 fordert zwei Abstimmungsrunden in beiden Kammern der
Legislativen; Art. 235 (3) der polnischen Verfassung von 1997 fordert ein Verstreichen
von mindestens 30 Tagen zwischen dem Einreichen des Entwurfes und der ersten
Lesung im Sejm.
13
 Art. 73 der finnischen Verfassung von 2000 fordert eine Verabschiedung der vor-
geschlagenen Verfassungsänderung mit einfacher Mehrheit des Parlaments und in der
folgenden Legislaturperiode bei der ersten Sitzung eine Verabschiedung des unverän-
derten Textes mit 2/3 Mehrheit der abgegebenen Stimmen. In Schweden ist in beiden
Abstimmungen nur eine einfache Mehrheit erforderlich (Kapitel 8, Art. 15 des Staats-
organisationsakt von 1974 in der Fassung von 2002). Art. 313 der Verfassung von
Panama von 1972 in der Fassung von 2004 verlangt in beiden Abstimmungen eine
absolute Mehrheit. Sollte die neu gewählte Legislative die Änderung modifizieren,
muss diese der Bevölkerung zum Volksentscheid vorgelegt werden. Art. 110 der grie-
chischen Verfassung von 1975 in der Fassung von 2002 sieht vor, dass ein Änderungs-
entwurf zunächst mit 3/5 Mehrheit der Parlamentsmitglieder verabschiedet wird und
in der neuen Legislaturperiode mit absoluter Mehrheit. Sollte bei der ursprünglichen
1112 markus böckenförde

­Bevölkerung zu der Änderung intendiert ist, bleibt diese Teil des

gewöhnlichen Urnenganges innerhalb des Rahmens einer repräsenta-
tiven Demokratie, ohne dass ein besonderer verfahrensrechtlicher
Zuschnitt auf die Verfassungsänderung zu erkennen wäre. Letztge-
nannter Zuschnitt haben andere Länder gewählt: Dort wird das Parla-
ment unmittelbar nach der Verabschiedung der Verfassungsänderung
aufgelöst und Neuwahlen werden angeordnet.14 Die Verfassungsände-
rung selbst rückt dadurch eher in den Mittelpunkt des Wahlkampfes.
Zeugnis dieser Dynamik ist die Diskussion um den EU-Beitritt Islands,
der eine Verfassungsänderung voraussetzt.15 Aus machtpolitischen
Erwägungen zwingt diese Option in besonderer Weise zur Überprü-
fung, ob Verfassungsänderungen dringlich sind, da sie mit einem vor-
zeitigen Mandatsverlust und der Möglichkeit des Mehrheitsverlustes
verbunden sind.16 Auf der anderen Seite bietet sie Raum für taktische
Manöver über den Weg einer Verfassungsänderung, wenn der Moment
für vorgezogene Neuwahlen opportun erscheint und zu erwarten ist,
dass der Änderungsvorschlag die Wählergunst trifft.
Eine weitere Variante vertraut auf ein abgestuftes Verfahren: Hier
wird zunächst die Notwendigkeit zur Änderung einer bestimmten
Verfassungsvorschrift im Parlament beschlossen, ohne bereits über
den Entwurf abgestimmt zu haben. In der Folge wird das Parlament
aufgelöst und der neue Gesetzgeber einigt sich auf einen konkreten
Entwurf und stimmt über diesen mit qualifizierter Mehrheit ab.17
In der Praxis unterscheidet sich dieser Prozess aber nicht wesentlich
von dem zuvor beschriebenen.

III. Die Fakultative, unmittelbare Einbindung des Volkes

Die unmittelbare Einbindung des Volkes in Verfassungsänderungs­
prozesse institutionalisiert seine Mitwirkung und lässt es formell

Abstimmung keine 3/5 Mehrheit sondern nur eine absolute Mehrheit erreicht werden,
muss das neue Parlament der Änderung mit 3/5 Mehrheit der Mitglieder zustimmen.
14
Nach Art. 79 der isländischen Verfassung von 1944 in der Fassung von 1999 wird
das Parlament unmittelbar nach Verabschiedung der Verfassungsänderung aufgelöst
und Neuwahlen abgehalten. Die neue Legislative muss die Änderung in unveränderter
Form mit gleicher Mehrheit nochmals verabschieden.
15
 C. Bomsdorf, Island überhitzt, in: Das Parlament Nr. 8/16.02.2009.
16
 Grimm (Fn. 3), 217.
17
 Art. 114 der luxemburgischen Verfassung von 1868 in der Fassung von 2000;
Art. 195 der belgischen Verfassung von 1994 in der Fassung von 2008, bei der die
Erklärung zur Verfassungsänderung sowohl von den beiden Kammern als auch von
der Regierung kommen muss.
 die einbindung der bevölkerung1113

konstituierte Gewalt jenseits des Wahlrechts werden. Die Einbindung

des Volkes bei Verfassungsänderungen ist die häufigste Form der
direktdemokratischen Einbindung der Bevölkerung. Über vermutete
Vorteile und behauptete Nachteile dieses direktdemokratischen Ele-
ments ist viel debattiert worden, soll aber nicht Gegenstand dieses Bei-
trags sein.
Die unmittelbare Einbindung des Volkes bei Verfassungsänderun-
gen kann auf zweifache Weise erfolgen. Die erste ist optional und steht
in dem Ermessen einer anderen Institution und/oder hängt von dem
Eintreten, einer Bedingung ab, zumeist Nichterreichten eines Quo-
rums bei der Verabschiedung der Verfassungsänderung im Parlament,
die zweite ist obligatorisch. Dieser Abschnitt beleuchtet zunächst die
verschiedenen Ausformungen der ersten Variante. Drei Untergruppen
werden dabei behandelt: Bei der ersten Kategorie erfolgt ein Referen-
dum zwingend bei Verfehlen eines gewissen Quorums in der Legislati-
ven, bei der zweiten eröffnet dies erst die Möglichkeit für (Teil-)
Institutionen, ein Referendum zu verlangen, die dritte Kategorie stellt
das Abhalten eines Referendums gänzlich zur Disposition einer staatli-
chen Institution.

1. Referendum bei Verfehlen einer qualifizierten Mehrheit

Einige Länder machen die Volksabstimmung bei Verfassungsänderun-
gen von dem Erreichen eines bestimmten Quorums abhängig. Der
Grundgedanke ist, dass bei fehlendem weitreichenden Konsens inner-
halb des Repräsentationsorgan das Volk selbst die Entscheidung her-
beiführen soll. So sieht beispielsweise die Verfassung des Benin vor,
dass über einen Änderungsvorschlag durch Volksentscheid abzustim-
men ist, soweit nicht 4/5 der Mitglieder des Parlaments für ihn votiert
haben.18 Ähnliche Vorschriften existieren in Burkina Faso und der
Türkei. In beiden Fällen liegt die Zustimmungsschwelle allerdings
niedriger. Die Verfassung von Burkina Faso verlangt 3/4,19 die der
Türkei 2/320 der Mitglieder der Legislativen.

18
 Art. 155 der beninischen Verfassung von 1990. Zu erwähnen ist jedoch, dass ein
Änderungsvorschlag nur zur Abstimmung kommt, wenn er zuvor durch 3/4 der Par-
lamentsmitglieder angenommen wurde (Art. 154). Durch diese hohe Eingangsvoraus-
setzung wird auch verhindert, dass eingebrachte Verfassungsänderungen wegen der
hohen Abstimmunghürde nahezu zwangsläfig in ein Referendum münden.
19
 Art. 164 der Verfassung von Burkina Faso von 1991 in der Fassung von 2002.
20
 Art. 175 der türkischen Verfassung von 1982 in der Fassung von 2008.
1114 markus böckenförde

2. Die Möglichkeit eines Referendums bei Verfehlen einer

qualifizierten Mehrheit
In anderen Verfassungen führt das Nichterreichen einer qualifizierten
Mehrheit nicht zwangsweise zu einem Volksentscheid, sondern eröff-
net lediglich unterschiedlichen Akteuren, einen solchen zu verlangen.
Wurde z.B. in Italien eine Verfassungsänderung mit einer absoluten,
aber keiner 2/3 Mehrheit der Mitglieder in beiden Kammern verab-
schiedet, können 1/5 der Mitglieder aus jeder Kammer oder fünf
Regionalvertretungen oder 500 000 Wahlbürger ein Referendum ein-
berufen.21 Durch letztgenannte Option liegt es mithin auch in der
Hand des Volkes, eine Verfassungsänderung unter bestimmten Vor-
aussetzungen zur Volksabstimmung zu bringen.

3. Das fakultative Referendum

Im Gegensatz zu der vorangegangen Variante, bei der die Möglichkeit
zum Referendum mit Erreichen einer qualifizierten Mehrheit in der
Legislativen ausgeschlossen ist, verzichtet diese auf ein solches Erfor-
dernis. Soweit die Verfassungsänderung verabschiedet wurde, können
unterschiedliche Institutionen/Akteure einen Volksentscheid einfor-
dern. In verschiedenen Staaten kann eine parlamentarische Minder-
heit, meist zwischen 10%22 und 20%,23 ein Referendum verlangen. In
anderen Ländern ist diese Möglichkeit dem Präsidenten vorbehalten
und so bisweilen auch eine Form des präsidialen Vetos in Gesetzge-
bungsprozessen geworden. Der Präsident kann nach seinem Ermessen
eine verabschiedete Verfassungsänderung dem Volk zur Abstimmung
vorlegen.24 In Chile ist diese Option Teil eines zweistufigen Vetoverfah-
rens: Widerspricht der Präsident der Änderung in Gänze oder zu Tei-
len, wird sie aber durch eine 2/3 Mehrheit der Parlamentsmitglieder
bestätigt, bleibt ihm die Einbeziehung des Volkes.25

21
 Art. 138 der italienischen Verfassung von 1948 in der Fassung von 2003.
22
 Art. 167 (3) der spanischen Verfassung von 1978 in der Fassung von 1992.
23
 Art. 177 (5) der albanischen Verfassung von 1998; nach der albanischen Verfas-
sung bleibt es aber der verfassungsändernden Mehrheit von 2/3 der Parlamentsmit-
glieder vorbehalten, die Änderung der Bevölkerung zur Abstimmung vorzulegen statt
sie selbst zu verabschieden. Damit bleibt es der Mehrheit möglich, potentiellen politi-
schen Manövern der Opposition zuvorzukommen.
24
 Art. 298 der burundischen Verfassung von 2004; Art. 63 (4) der kamarunischen
Verfassung von 1996.
25
 Art. 128/129 der chilenischen Verfassung von 1980 in der Fassung von 2005.
 die einbindung der bevölkerung1115

IV. Die obligatorische Einbindung des Volkes bei jeder

Verfassungsänderung
In einer Reihe von Ländern ist ein Referendum für eine Verfassungs-
änderung verpflichtend, nachdem sie vom Parlament verabschiedet
wurde.26 Die Bevölkerung ist damit zwingend in den Prozess eingebun-
den. In Frankreich und diesem Beispiel folgend in einigen ehemali-
gen französischen Kolonien in Afrika bietet die Verfassung eine
Ausnahme zu der Regel: Der Präsident hat die Möglichkeit, das Parla-
ment stattdessen zu bitten, den Änderungsentwurf mit einer erhöhten
qualifizierten Mehrheit zu beschließen.27 In gewisser Weise läßt sich
dieses Verfahren als ein präsidiales Veto gegen eine Volksabstimmung
deuten.
Die weitestgehende Einbindung der Bevölkerung in Verfassungsän-
derungsprozessen bieten die Schweiz und Uruguay. In beiden Ländern
kann eine Verfassungsänderung ausschließlich durch das Volk vollzo-
gen werden, indem es einen Änderungsvorschlag sowohl einbringt, als
auch über ihn abstimmt.28 In der Schweiz überprüft die Bundesver-
sammlung lediglich die formale Richtigkeit des Antrags und einen
eventuellen Verstoß gegen zwingendes Völkerrecht (ius cogens).29
Ist sie darüber hinaus mit dem Vorschlag nicht einverstanden, kann sie
einen Gegenvorschlag ausarbeiten, der alternativ zur Abstimmung
mitvorgelegt wird. Die Änderung ist angenommen, wenn sich in dem
folgenden Referendum die Mehrheit der Abstimmenden und die
Mehrheit der Stände dafür aussprechen.30 Das Volk, das die Verfassung

26
 Art. 46 der Verfassung von Irland von 1937 in der Fassung von 2002; Art. 96 der
japanischen Verfassung von 1947; Art. 128 der südkoreanischen Verfassung von 1948
in der Fassung von 1987; Art. 170 der slowenischen Verfassung von 1991 in der Fas-
sung von 2003; Art. 118 der malischen Verfassung von 1992.
27
 Art. 89 der französischen Verfassung von 1958 in der Fassung von 2008 (qualifi-
zierte 3/5 Mehrheit); Art. 176 der algerischen Verfassung von 1996 in der Fassung von
2008 (qualifizierte 3/4 Mehrheit); Art. 155 der Verfassung von Benin von 1990 von (4/5
Mehrheit); Art. 126 der Verfassung der Elfenbeinküste von 2000 (qualifizierte 4/5
Mehrheit).
28
Nach Art. 139 (1) der schweizerischen Verfassung von 1999 in der Fassung von
2011 (BV) müssen innerhalb von 18 Monaten 100 000 abstimmungsberechtigte Bürger
einen Änderungsvorschlag einbringen. In Uruguay sind nach Art. 331 (a) der Verfas-
sung von 1966 in der Fassung von 1996 zehn Prozent der eingetragenen Wahlbevölke-
rung erforderlich.
29
 Art. 139 (3) BV setzt um, was Art. 194 (2) statuiert: Zwingendes Völkerrecht darf
durch die Verfassung nicht verletzt werden.
30
 Art. 142 (2) BV. Die Mehrheit der Stände (Kantone) verlangt, dass in der Mehr-
heit der Kantone sich die jeweils abstimmende Kantonsbevölkerung für eine Ände-
rung entscheidet. Halbkantone haben nur halbes Stimmgewicht.
1116 markus böckenförde

als Inhaber der verfassungsgebenden Gewalt erlässt, kann so selbst

unmittelbar die Abänderung der Verfassung einschränkungslos bewir-
ken.31 Die Bevölkerung wirkt hier gleichsam als pouvoir constituant
institué, als die institutionalisierte verfassungsgebende Gewalt, inhalt-
lich grundsätzlich ungebunden, weder innerstaatlich noch in Bezug
auf völkervertragrechtliche Verpflichtungen. Die Dynamik solcher
Verfahren ist in jüngster Zeit deutlich geworden.32 Trotz Bedenken der
Bundesversammlung über die Vereinbarung der Verfassungsänderung
mit internationalen Menschenrechtsabkommen (EMRK), votierte die
Mehrheit der abstimmenden Bevölkerung für ein Verbot Minarette in
der Schweiz zu errichten.33

C. Die Hierarchisierung von Verfassungsrecht durch

Vorschriften zur Verfassungsänderung

In vielen Ländern gibt es keinen einheitlichen Änderungsprozess für

die Verfassung. Es werden vielmehr für bestimmte Abschnitte bzw.
Normen unterschiedliche formelle Anforderungen gestellt. Ähnliches
gilt, wenn statt einer Änderung der Verfassung deren Totalrevision
angestrebt wird. Andere Vorschriften oder Bereiche unterliegen einem
Änderungsverbot. Durch beide Fälle wird eine Normenhierarchie
innerhalb der Verfassung geschaffen, wenn auch mit unterschiedlichen
Wirkungen. Diese vergleichend zu beleuchten und ins Verhältnis zu
der Rolle der Bevölkerung in Verfassungsänderungsprozessen zu set-
zen, ist Ziel dieses Abschnitts.

I. Abstufung Formeller Anforderungen zur Verfassungsänderung

In manchen Verfassungen werden für die Änderung einiger Vorschrif-
ten oder Absätze erhöhte Mehrheiten in der Legislativen verlangt. Auf

31
Die Grenzen des völkerrechtlichen ius cogens stehen aus dessen Selbstverständnis
ohnehin nicht zur Disposition, insoweit ist dessen Benennung deklaratorische Natur.
Eine weitergehende Einschränkung kennt die schweizerische Verfassung nicht.
32
Siehe A. Peters, The Swiss Referendum on the Prohibition of Minarets, in:
European Journal of International Law talk, verfügbar unter http://www.ejiltalk.org/
the-swiss-referendum-on-the-prohibition-of-minarets/; U. Bloch, Schweizer für
Verschärfung im Ausländerrecht, NZZ-online vom 28. November 2010, verfügbar
unter http://www.nzz.ch/nachrichten/politik/schweiz/abstimmung_eidgenoessische
_ausschaffungsinitiative_1.8498100.html
33
Peters (Fn. 32), 3.
 die einbindung der bevölkerung1117

diesem Wege wird bei der Suche nach der richtigen Balance zwischen
ausreichender Rigidität und hinreichender Flexibilität der Verfassung
nicht auf einen einzigen Modus vertraut, sondern Abstufungen je nach
zugemessener Bedeutung der Vorschrift vorgenommen. So sind es z.B.
in Südafrika „founding provisions“ zu Beginn der Verfassung sowie die
Änderungsvorschriften selbst, die nur durch eine erhöhte qualifizierte
Mehrheit abänderbar sind.34
In anderen Ländern können bestimmte Inhalte der Verfassung in
Abweichung von dem normalen Verfahren in der Legislativen nur
durch die Zustimmung der Bevölkerung geändert werden. Zum einen
mag auch dieses Erfordernis der Idee geschuldet sein, eine Verfas-
sungsänderung in bestimmten Bereichen zu erschweren. Hinzu
kommt aber ein weiterer Aspekt: Wichtige inhaltliche Änderungen der
Verfassung sollen nur mit Unterstützung des pouvoir constituant insti-
tué vorgenommen werden, die verfassungsgebende Gewalt in ihrer
konstitutionalisierten Form soll und muss unmittelbar der Änderung
zentraler Entscheidungen zustimmen. Welche Inhalte sich hierfür qua-
lifizieren variiert: In Island ist dies die Änderung des Status der Kir-
che,35 in Lettland, Litauen und Montenegro die Vorschriften zu u.a.
Staatsform, Staatsgebiet, Staatssymbolen, Sprachen und Wahlrecht,36 in
Polen und Spanien zusätzlich der Abschnitt zu den Bürgerrechten und
-pflichten,37 in Ghana daneben auch noch u.a. Vorschriften zur staats-
organisationsrechtlichen Struktur.38 In Bangladesch sind es neben den
Staatsprinzipien Änderungen, die die Ausgestaltung der Exekutiven
betreffen.39 Bestrebungen der Machtkonzentration innerhalb der Exe-
kutive sollen so erschwert werden und ohne unmittelbare Zustimmung
des Volkes nicht möglich sein. Diesen Ländern ist gemein, dass zumin-
dest dem Texte nach40 Verfassungsänderungen jede Vorschrift betref-
fen können, es mithin kein Änderungsverbot gibt. Gegebenfalls in

34
 Art. 74 der südafrikanischen Verfassung von 1996 in der Fassung von 2007 (3/4
Mehrheit zu 2/3 Mehrheit); vgl. auch Art. 9 der nigerianischen Verfassung von 1999
(4/5 Mehrheit zu 2/3 Mehrheit).
35
 Art. 79 der isländischen Verfassung von 1944 in der Fassung von 1999.
36
 Art. 77 der lettischen Verfassung von 1922 in der Fassung von 2005; Art. 148 der
litauischen Verfassung von 1992 in der Fassung von 2006; Art. 157 der Verfassung von
Montenegro von 2007.
37
 Art. 235 (6) der polnischen Verfassung von 1997; Art. 168 (1) der spanischen
Verfassung von 1978 in der Fassung von 1992.
38
 Art. 290 der ghanaischen Verfassung von 1992 in der Fassung von 1996.
39
 Art. 142 der Verfassung von Bangladesch von 1972 in der Fassung von 2004.
40
Siehe hierzu die Erläuterungen zu Bangladesch am Ende dieses Kapitels.
1118 markus böckenförde

Übereinstimmung mit dem pouvoir constituant institué kann jede Vor-

schrift zur Disposition gestellt werden.
Diese formale Hierarchisierung von Verfassungsnormen hat keinen
Einfluss auf deren jeweiligen materiellen Wertgehalt. Unabhängig von
den unterschiedlichen Anforderungen zu ihrer Änderung stehen sie
auf einer verfassungsrechtlichen Stufe, die formelle Hierarchie hatte
keine weitergehenden inhaltlichen Auswirkungen, auch nicht im Rah-
men verfassungsgerichtlicher Überprüfungen, soweit diese in den ein-
zelnen Ländern vorhanden sein sollten.
Ein weiteres Kriterium zur Einbindung der Bevölkerung zielt nicht
auf die Bedeutung einzelner Vorschriften ab, sondern auf den Umfang
der Verfassungsänderung. Steht nicht nur eine Verfassungsänderung,
sondern eine Totalrevision der Verfassung an, kann dieser nur von der
Bevölkerung zugestimmt werden. Auch eine Totalrevision vollzieht
sich in solchen Fällen aus dem bestehenden Verfassungsgefüge heraus,
die Bevölkerung bleibt trotz Verfassungsneugebung pouvoir constitu-
ant institué. Jenseits einer von vornherein zeitlich limitierten Über-
gangsverfassung die eine Neukonstituierung durch das Volk vorsieht,41
entspricht diese Einbindung wohl am ehesten der Rolle der Bevölke-
rung als verfassungsgebenden Gewalt, obgleich nicht vorverfassungs-
rechtlich, sondern innerhalb der bestehenden Verfassung agierend.42
Die Einbindung des Volkes bleibt in diesem Fall aber real und ver-
kommt nicht zu einer bloßen Fiktion.43

II. Materielle Einschränkungen der Verfassungsänderung

Eine große Anzahl von Ländern enthält Verfassungsinhalte, die einer
Änderung nicht zugänglich sind und durch keine in der Verfassung
verankerten Institution zur Disposition gestellt werden kann, auch
nicht durch den pouvoir constituant institué. Eine Abkehr von den so
zementierten Inhalten bleibt dann allein der vorverfassungsrechtli-
chen verfassungsgebenden Gewalt vorbehalten. Diese Inhalte variieren

41
So der Grundgedanke von Art. 146 GG a.F.
42
 Art. 168 (1) der spanischen Verfassung von 1978 in der Fassung von 1992; Art. 44
(3) der österreichischen Verfassung von 1920 in der Fassung von 2004.
43
Der Fiktionscharakter wird insbesondere im GG und seiner Anwendung deut-
lich: Der verfassungsändernde Gesetzgeber hat aus einer Übergangsverfassung für
Westdeutschland eine Dauerverfassung für Gesamtdeutschland beschlossen (Art. 4
Ziff. 1 und 6 des Einigungsvertrages) und die in Art. 146 a.F. der verfassungsgebenden
Gewalt anerkannte Autorität abschafft und durch eine in der gegenwärtigen Form
unvollziehbares „Feigenblatt“ ersetzt.
 die einbindung der bevölkerung1119

stark und spiegeln z.T. die traumatisierende Erfahrungen und Ängste

vorangegangener Erlebnisse wieder. Gerade Verfassungen, die einen
Regimewechsel einführen oder den Neubeginn nach einem gewaltsa-
men Konflikt markieren, sind geleitet von der Idee, die Rückkehr in
vergangene Strukturen zu verhindern oder neue Ideale unveränderlich
festzuschreiben. Zum Teil sind es sehr abstrakt gehaltene Inhalte, die
einen allgemeinen Rahmen vorgeben, zum Teil sind es bestimmte
Strukturmerkmale, gelegentlich auch ganz konkrete Vorschriften.
Die wohl abstrakteste Ewigkeitsklausel enthält die norwegische Ver-
fassung, die nur die Veränderung von Verfassungsvorschriften zulässt,
die nicht ihren Geist ändern.44 Was diesen Geist ausmacht, ob nun die
evangelisch-lutherische Staatsreligion oder die Regierungsform der
konstitutionellen Monarchie, wird nicht weiter präzisiert. In einigen
Staaten sind genau diese beiden Elemente Teil der Ewigkeitsklausel: So
ist in einigen Ländern die laizistische / säkulare Staatsform verewigt,45
während andere den Status einer bestimmten Religion und deren reli-
giöse Rechtsvorstellungen verfestigen.46 Viele Staaten nehmen u.a. die
Regierungsform der Republik47 oder ihren demokratischen Charak-
ter48 von Änderungen aus, die Verfassung von Kambodscha erklärt die
konstitutionelle Monarchie für nicht abschaffbar.49 Weitere unverän-
derliche Merkmale sind die verbürgten Grund- und Menschenrechte,50

44
 Art. 112 der norwegischen Verfassung von 1814 in der Fassung von 2004; in der
norwegischen Verfassungsinterpretation wird jedoch davon ausgegangen, dass die
Einhaltung dieser Vorschrift einer gerichtlichen Überprüfung nicht zugänglich ist.
45
 Art. 159 der angolanischen Verfassung von 1975 in der Fassung von 1992; Art.
156 der Verfassung von Benin von 1990; Art. 127 der Verfassung der Elfenbeinküste
von 2000; Art. 225 der Verfassung des Tschad von 1996; Art. 100 der Verfassung von
Tadschikistan von 1994 in der Fassung von 2003.
46
 Art. 149 der afghanische Verfassung von 2003; Art. 178 der algerischen Verfas-
sung von 1996 in der Fassung von 2008.
47
 Art. 64 der Verfassung von Kamerun von 1996; Art. 89 der französischen Verfas-
sung von 1958 in der Fassung von 2008; Art. 79 (3) des Grundgesetzes; Art. 152 der
rumänischen Verfassung von 1991 in der Fassung von 2003; Art. 103 der senegalesi-
schen Verfassung von 2001 in der Fassung von 2008; Art. 281 der Verfassung von Gua-
temala von 1985 in der Fassung von 1993.
48
 Art. 178 der algerischen Verfassung von 1996 in der Fassung von 2008; Art. 299
der burundischen Verfassung von 2004; Art. 64 der Verfassung von Kamerun von
1996; Art. 79 (3) Grundgesetz; Art. 281 der Verfassung von Guatemala von 1985 in der
Fassung von 1993.
49
 Art. 153 der kambodschanischen Verfassung von 1992 in der Fassung von 1999
(Art. 153).
50
 Art. 178 der algerischen Verfassung von 1996 in der Fassung von 2008; Art. 149
der afghanischen Verfassung von 2003; Art. 97 der japanischen Verfassung von 1947;
Art. 131 der namibischen Verfassung von 1990 in der Fassung von 1998.
1120 markus böckenförde

das Rechtsstaatsprinzip,51 das Mehrparteiensystem,52 die Garantie uni-

verseller, direkter, geheimer und periodischer Wahlen,53 die Gewalten-
teilung und die Unabhängigkeit der Gerichte,54 die Landessprache(n)55
oder der Staatsaufbau, sei es föderal56 oder unitarisch.57 Während sich
in den meisten Fällen das Veränderungsverbot auf wenige Bereiche
fokussiert, offerieren andere Verfassungen einen ganzen Katalog von
unabänderbaren Prinzipien, die gleichsam die wesentliche Struktur
der Verfassung zementieren.58 Gelegentlich bezieht sich das Verände-
rungsverbot auch auf ganz konkrete Vorschriften. Prominentes Bei-
spiel ist die Festsetzung der begrenzten Wiederwahl des Präsidenten,
oft ein Ergebnis aus vorangegangenen Erfahrungen autoritärer Herr-
schaft, in der sich die Spitze der Exekutive die Macht dauerhaft auch
über Verfassungsänderungen zu sichern wusste.59
Durch Ewigkeitsklauseln erfährt das verfassungsrechtliche Nor-
mengefüge eine inhaltliche Hierarchie: Denn es ist nicht nur verboten,
die Normen selbst zu ändern oder abzuschaffen, sondern auch durch
die Änderung anderer Verfassungsvorschriften deren Inhalt und
Gewährleistung einzuschränken. In Staaten, in denen dies gerichtlich
überprüfbar ist, verschiebt sich das Machtgefüge im politischen System

51
 Art. 79 (3) GG i.V.m. Art. 20 GG.
52
 Art. 178 der algerischen Verfassung von 1996 in der Fassung von 2008; Art. 88
der Verfassung von Dschibuti von 1992 in der Fassung von 2008; Art. 152 der Verfas-
sung Rumäniens von 1991 in der Fassung von 2003.
53
 Art. 60 (3) der brasilianischen Verfassung von 1988 in der Fassung von 2010.
54
 Art. 79 (3) GG iVm Art. 20 GG; Art. 60 (3) der brasilianischen Verfassung von
1988 in der Fassung von 2010; Art. 152 der Verfassung Rumäniens von 1991 in der
Fassung von 2003; Art. 178 der algerischen Verfassung von 1996 in der Fassung von
2008.
55
 Art. 178 der algerischen Verfassung von 1996 in der Fassung von 2008; Art. 152
der rumänischen Verfassung von 1991 in der Fassung von 2003.
56
 Art. 79 (3) GG; Art. 60 (3) para. 4 der brasilianischen Verfassung von 1988 in der
Fassung von 2010.
57
 Art. 37 (5) der indonesischen Verfassung von 1945 in der Fassung von 2002.
58
 Art. 288 der portugiesischen Verfassung von 1976 in der Fasung von 2004 listet
einen Katalog von vierzehn verschiedenen Regelungen/Inhalten auf, die einer Ände-
rung nicht zugänglich sind. Die Verfassungen der luziphonen Länder Afrikas nahmen
sich dies zum Vorbild und schufen ähnliche Kataloge: Art. 292 der mosambikanischen
Verfassung von 1990 in der Fassung von 2005; Art. 236 der Verfassung von Angola von
1975 in der Fassung von 2010.
59
 Art. 374 der Verfassung von Honduras von 1982 in der Fassung von 1991; Art.
136 der Verfassung von Niger von 1999. In beiden Ländern kostete den jeweiligen
Präsidenten der Versuch diese Vorschrift abzuschaffen das politische Überleben. Letzt-
endlich wurde ihr Versuch eines verfassungsrechtlichen Staatsstreiches nicht durch
verfassungsrechtliche Institutionen (obgleich auch diese das jeweilige Vorgehen für
verfassungswidrig erklärten) sondern durch militärisches Einschreiten gestoppt.
 die einbindung der bevölkerung1121

erheblich: Verfassungsgerichte oder ähnliche Institutionen sind nicht

nur berufen, die Einhaltung der Verfassung durch die Staatsorgane zu
garantieren, sie überwachen zugleich das innerverfassungsrechtliche
Gefüge, indem sie Verfassungsänderungen auf ihre materielle Verfas-
sungsmäßigkeit überprüfen. Je nach Umfang der Ewigkeitsklauseln
schafft diese Interpretationsgewalt erhebliche Spielräume für die Dritte
Gewalt.
Den Überblick abschließend ist darauf hinzuweisen, dass in einigen
Ländern Südasiens sich die Judikative diese Überprüfungskompetenz
auch ohne Ewigkeitsklausel zugeschrieben hat. Begonnen hat diese
Entwicklung als Ausfluss eines politischen Kräftemessens zwischen
Legislative und Judikative in Indien Ende der 1960er und während der
1970er Jahre.60 Das höchste Gericht Indiens sprach dem verfassungs-
ändernden Gesetzgeber die Legitimität ab, auch jene Verfassungsvor-
schriften zu ändern, die die grundlegende Struktur (basic structure)61
der Verfassung beträfen, obgleich die indische Verfassung kein Ände-
rungsverbot kennt.62 Begründet wurde dies mit der Erwägung, dass
die einschlägige Verfassungsnorm (Art. 368) von Verfassungsänderun-
gen spräche, eine Änderung aber im Unterschied zu einer Totalrevi-
sion impliziere, dass die Grundstruktur erhalten bleibe. Eine Änderung
der Grundstruktur erfordere daher die Einberufung einer verfassungs-
gebenden Versammlung.63 Mehrfach versuchte der verfassungsän-
dernde Gesetzgeber diese Interpretation des obersten indischen
Gerichts durch eine Ergänzung und Verdeutlichung der relevanten
Vorschrift auszuschließen,64 ohne dass das Gericht dies anerkannt

60
 Berühmtheit erlangte insoweit der Fall Kesavananda Bharti Sripadagalvaru v.
State of Kerala 1973 (All Indian Reporter 1973 Supreme Court 1461), in dem das
oberste indische Gericht den Begriff der basic structure einführte. Siehe ausführlich
hierzu: G. Austin, Working a Democratic Constitution, The Indian Experience (1999).
61
Was genau Teil zur basic structure gehört, ist offen. In Kesavananda Bharti Sripa-
dagalvaru v. State of Kerala (AIR 1973 SC 1461), haben die Richter ihre jeweiligen
Vorstellungen jeweils abgefasst. Enthalten waren zumeist die Souveränität des Landes,
der säkulare und demokratische Charakter des Staates, die Unabhängigkeit der Justiz,
Rechtsstaatlichkeit und die Grundrechte der Bürger.
62
Nach Art. 368 (2) der indischen Verfassung von 1950 in der Fassung von 2005 ist
Voraussetzung für eine Verfassungsänderung eine qualifizierte legislative Mehrheit
beider Kammern, bei einigen Vorschriften bedarf es zudem die Zustimmung der
Hälfte der indischen Länderparlamente.
63
I.C. Golaknath v. State of Punjab, AIR 1967 SC 1643.
64
Mit dem 42. Änderungsgesetz wurde Art. 368 um folgende Absätze 4 und 5
ergänzt: (4) No amendment of this Constitution (including the provisions of Part III)
made or purporting to have been made under this article [whether before or after the
commencement of section 55 of the Constitution (Forty-second Amendment) Act,
1122 markus böckenförde

hätte.65 Gegenwärtig ruht der Verfassungskonflikt weitgehend. Dem

indischen Beispiel folgend, haben auch die obersten Gerichte in Pakis-
tan und Bangladesch versucht, diesen Gedanken in ihrer jeweiligen
Verfassungsordnung festzusetzen.66 Die beschriebenen Dynamiken
zeigen, wie eine konstituierte Gewalt (Judikative) ihre Rolle im verfas-
sungsrechtlichen Machtgefüge unter Berufung auf den Schutz des Ver-
fassungsgebers in Form der pouvoir constituant institué zu weiten
versucht. Genau diese Funktion hatte sich der Verfassungsgeber aber
nicht zugedacht, sonst hätte er eine adäquate Vorschrift aus dem oben
dargestellten Optionenkatalog wählen können. Im Falle Bangladeschs
war die nicht ohne fragwürdige Argumentationsakrobatik zu errei-
chen, denn Art. 142 der Verfassung erfordert für die Abänderung
bestimmter Inhalt die Zustimmung der Bevölkerung durch Referen-
dum. Insoweit den pouvoir constituant institué zu entmündigen oder
die schon vorhandene Hierarchisierung der Verfassung unter Verweis
auf die indischen Argumentationslinien zu entwerten überzeugt schon
vom Ansatz her nicht.

D. Schlussbemerkung

Die oben geschilderten Beispiele Indiens und Bangladeschs geben Ein-

blick in einen weiteren Teil der Arbeit im Rahmen der Unterstützung
von Verfassungsbildungsprozessen: Die Wichtigkeit, nicht nur Rege-
lungsmöglichkeiten anhand bestehender Verfassungsoptionen aufzu-
zeigen, sondern auch im Folgeschritt auf ihre tatsächliche Wirkung
im jeweiligen Umfeld und die Eigendynamiken des machtpolitischen

1976] shall be called in question in any court on any ground. (5) For the removal of
doubts, it is hereby declared that there shall be no limitation whatever on the constituent
power of Parliament to amend by way of addition, variation or repeal the provisions of
this Constitution under this article.
65
 In Minerva Mills Ltd. and Others v. Union of India and Others (1980) 2 Supreme
Court Cases 591 erklärte der indische Supreme Court die Änderung für ungültig.
66
Dem indischen Beispiel folgend und explizit auf den Kesavananda Fall in Indien
Bezug nehmend entschied das oberste Gericht in Bangladesch in Anwar Hossain
Chowdhary v. Bangladesh (1989 Bangladesh Law Decisions (SPL) 1). Auch das pakista-
nische oberste Gericht berief sich auf die Grundlagen der Verfassung und ihres Geistes
in Al-Jehad Trust v. Federation of Pakistan (Pakistan Law Decisions 1996 SC 324), um
eine Verfassungsänderung inhaltlich für ungültig zu erklären. Das oberste Gericht in
Sri Lanka erörterte die basic structure doctrine im Rahmen der Überprüfung des 13.
Änderungsgesetzes, hielt sie aber für unanwendbar (2 Sri Lanka Law Reports 312
(1987)).
 die einbindung der bevölkerung1123

Alltags in ihrer Umsetzung hinzuweisen. Unter welchen Umständen

haben sich ähnliche Vorschriften unterschiedlich entwickelt und
unterschiedliche Vorschriften zu vergleichbaren Ergebnissen geführt?
Ein Beitrag, der die kontextbezogenen Wirkungen bei der Umsetzung
von Verfassungsvorschriften anhand von Länderbeispielen aufzeigt,
mag Inhalt einer nächsten Jubiläumsschrift für Rüdiger Wolfrum sein.
 Piracy Jure Gentium

Yoram Dinstein

A. Introductory Comments

1. The international law of piracy is embedded in:

(a) Custom, as it has evolved over the centuries. The prohibition of
piracy goes back to the era of the “fathers” of international law
and beyond.1 In fact, this is not an ordinary prohibition. Under
customary international law, piracy is a crime: the very first
crime recognized as such by international law.2 Some scholars
even maintain that the prohibition of piracy has consolidated as
jus cogens.3
(b) The 1958 Geneva Convention on the High Seas (Articles 14–21).4
This is a genuine codification treaty the declaratory character of
which is openly avowed in the text itself. Thus, the Preamble to
the Convention sets out that the Conference framing it “adopted
the following provisions as generally declaratory of established
principles of international law”.5 The text of the Geneva Conven-
tion is largely based on a draft finalized by the ILC (Interna-
tional Law Commission) in 1956.6
(c) The 1982 LOS (Law of the Sea) Convention, signed in Montego
Bay,7 which repeats the relevant clauses of the Geneva Conven-
tion practically verbatim (Articles 100–107).
2. It is noteworthy that the international community had approxi-
mately a quarter of a century (between 1958 and 1982) to reflect on

1
See A.P. Rubin, The Law of Piracy, 63 International Law Studies 4, at 19–21, 26–28
(1988).
2
See R. Jennings/A. Watts (eds.), Oppenheim’s International Law, Vol. 1, at 746
(9th ed. 1992).
3
See M.N. Shaw, International Law, at 126 (6th ed. 2008).
4
Geneva Convention on the High Seas, 450 United Nations Treaty Series 82,
at 90–92 (1958).
5
Id., 82.
6
Report of the International Law Commission to the General Assembly, 8th
Session, 2 Yearbook of the International Law Commission 253, at 254 et seq. (1956).
7
Official Text, United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, UNCLOS 1982, at
57 (1997).
1126 yoram dinstein

the LOS provisions concerning piracy, benefiting from a rare sec-

ond-chance opportunity to change them. The fact that the original
text was kept unaltered must be stressed, especially against the
background of (i) some objections (expressed principally by schol-
ars) to certain elements of the 1958 definition of piracy;8 and (ii) the
inclusion in the 1982 text of many other innovations in LOS (not
germane to piracy). The intact 1982 retention of the 1958 provisions
on piracy affirms that States accept them as an accurate reflection of
international law.
3. Whether generated by custom or by treaty, the theme of this paper
is piracy jure gentium, i.e. piracy as defined by international law. To
be sure, nothing precludes any State–acting unilaterally, at its own
discretion–from stigmatizing in its domestic legislation, under the
rubric of piracy, certain acts which do not come within the bounds
of the definition of piracy jure gentium. Although such acts will be
punishable within the jurisdiction of the State concerned, the rele-
vant legislation will not have any extra-territorial repercussions.
The acts exceeding the definition of piracy jure gentium “therefore
are not of universal cognizance, so as to be punishable by all
nations”.9 What singles out piracy jure gentium is that–if, and only if,
its strict conditions are met–every State acquires, under interna-
tional law, special powers outside its territorial domain vis-à-vis
pirates (see infra, paragraph 43). These special powers cannot be
arrogated by any given State in circumstances which exceed the
scope of piracy jure gentium.
4. Since the term “piracy” resonates in a powerful manner with the
public at large, it is occasionally used by the media and even by
statesmen and lawyers in diverse settings which have nothing to do
with piracy jure gentium. Without exhausting the field, I shall give
two prominent examples of attempts to broaden the spectrum of
piracy:
(a) When floating platforms were stationed outside the territo-
rial sea of coastal States, for the transmission of unauthorized

8
See N. Ronzitti, The Law of the Sea and the Use of Force against Terrorist Activities,
in: N. Rozitti (ed.), Maritime Terrorism and International Law, 1, at 2 (1990).
9
Dissenting Opinion of Judge Moore in the S.S. Lotus Case, in M.O. Hudson (ed.),
2 World Court Reports 20, at 69 (1935).
 piracy jure gentium1127

broadcasts beamed at the local population, they were called

“piratical”.10
(b) When the epidemic of hijackings of commercial airliners
started in the 1960s, it was (initially at least) popularly called
“aerial piracy”.11
The use of semantic misnomers is liable to cause confusion by
creating the false impression that the existing legal tools, devised to
cope with the suppression of piracy proper, will also be instrumen-
tal in eliminating the new types of discredited activities. It took a
while before the international community realized that this is not
the case. As far as unauthorized broadcasting from the high seas is
concerned, the 1982 LOS Convention has a special provision (Arti-
cle 109) dealing with its suppression.12 As regards aircraft hijacking
and sabotage, additional instruments were concluded under the
aegis of ICAO (International Civil Aviation Organization): (i) the
1970 Hague Convention for the Suppression of Unlawful Seizure of
Aircraft;13 and (ii) the 1971 Montreal Convention for the Suppres-
sion of Unlawful Acts against the Safety of Civil Aviation.14
5. Occasionally, there is also a contradictory trend which underrates
the real-life significance of piracy jure gentium in international
affairs. It is cyclically believed that the scourge of piracy has been all
but eliminated and that there is no genuine need to grapple with it
any more. Thus, in 1984, the ILC–during its work on a Draft Code
of Offences against the Peace and Security of Mankind–had this
to say:
“With regard to piracy, the Commission recognizes that it is an interna-
tional crime under customary international law. It doubts, however,
whether in the present international community the offence can be such
as to constitute a threat to the peace and security of mankind”.15

10
See I. Brownlie, Principles of Public International Law, at 240 (6th ed. 2003).
11
See E. McWhinney, Aerial Piracy and International Terrorism: The Illegal
Diversion of Aircraft and International Law, at 5–6 (2nd ed. 1987).
12
LOS Convention (note 7), at 59.
13
Hague Convention for the Suppression of Unlawful Seizure of Aircraft, [1970]
United Nations Juridical Yearbook, 131.
14
Montreal Convention for the Suppression of Unlawful Acts against the Safety of
Civil Aviation, [1971] United Nations Juridical Yearbook 143.
15
Report of the International Law Commission to the General Assembly,
36th Session, 2 Yearbook of the International Law Commission 1, at 17 (1984).
1128 yoram dinstein

  It is the irony of fate perhaps that, in 2008/2009, the UN Security

Council deemed it necessary to adopt binding decisions relating
to the recrudescence of piracy off the Horn of Africa (see infra,
paragraph 36) in the context of a threat to the peace. In actuality,
piracy is “a modern, and growing, phenomenon”.16

B. The Definition of Piracy

6. The definition of piracy jure gentium appears in Article 101 of the

1982 LOS Convention:
“Piracy consists of any of the following acts:
(a) any illegal acts of violence or detention, or any act of depredation,
committed for private ends by the crew or the passengers of a private
ship or a private aircraft, and directed:
(i) on the high seas, against another ship or aircraft, or against per-
sons or property on board such ship or aircraft;
(ii) against a ship, aircraft, persons or property in a place outside the
jurisdiction of any State;
(b) any act of voluntary participation in the operation of a ship or of an
aircraft with knowledge of facts making it a pirate ship or aircraft;
(c) any act of inciting or of intentionally facilitating an act described in
subparagraph (a) or (b)”.17
7. There is no question that the definition of piracy in Article 101,
“which is restricted to proscribing acts of violence committed for
private ends on the high seas and undertaken by one ship against
another, does not fully cover all acts of violence endangering the
safety of international navigation”.18 The need to face additional
challenges to the safety of maritime and air traffic has brought about
the conclusion of several complementary treaties (see supra para-
graph 4 and infra, paragraphs 22, 24). But, as far as the definition of
piracy is concerned, there are five main components in it.

I. The Acts
8. Piracy consists of illegal acts of violence, detention or depredation.
Depredation is usually defined as an “act of plundering, robbing or

16
A. Aust, Handbook of International Law, at 312 (2005).
17
LOS Convention (note 7), at 57.
18
Institut de Droit International, Naples Declaration on Piracy, 73 Annuaire
de l’Institut de Droit International 584, id. (Session de Naples, 2009).
 piracy jure gentium1129

pillaging”.19 It was once believed that robbery was an essential ele-

ment of piracy.20 Yet, as Article 101 makes abundantly clear, any
illegal act of violence, detention or depredation will do, whether or
not robbery is perpetrated (or even contemplated). As the piratical
depredations against the Vietnamese “boat people” in the 1970s
showed, rape can become a very important element of the crime.
9. As elucidated in Paragraphs (b)-(c) of Article 101, the definition of
piracy extends beyond the principal acts to participation in the
operation of a ship or of an aircraft with knowledge of the facts, as
well as facilitation and incitement. Although Article 101 does not
say so explicitly, there can scarcely be any doubt that it is not neces-
sary for an act of piracy to be consummated. An attempt to commit
piracy will surely come within the framework of the definition: “it
is not necessary for the attempt to be successful”.21
10. Whereas Article 101 abstains from using penal terminology, there
is no doubt that–under customary international law–piracy jure
gentium is a crime. It is not clear whether the adjective “illegal” at
the outset of Paragraph (a) of Article 101 was intended to refer to
international or to domestic law.22 In the opinion of the present
writer, the primary issue is illegality under international law. Thus,
if the intended victims of piracy resort to violence, resisting capture
or worse, this action is certainly legal (see infra, paragraphs 31,
34)–provided that no counter-depredation takes place–and there-
fore it is excluded from the definition. However, should a State con-
template prosecutorial action against pirates caught in pursuit of
their criminal undertaking, it will be guided by the requirement of
the piratical act being illegal under the domestic legal system. In
this event, it is possible to speak of a latent stipulation of double
criminality.

II. The Actors

11. Under the definition of piracy in Article 101, pirates must be “the
crew or the passengers of a private ship or a private aircraft”. That is

19
A.R. Thomas/J.C. Duncan (eds.) Annotated Supplement to the Commander’s
Handbook on the Law of Naval Operations, 73 International Law Studies, at 223
(1999).
20
See C.J. Colombos, International Law of the Sea, at 444–445 (6th ed. 1967).
21
Shaw (note 3), at 398.
22
See A.P. Rubin, Is Piracy Illegal?, 70 American Journal of International Law,
92 (1976).
1130 yoram dinstein

to say, the actors must be sailing private ships or flying private air-
craft. Hence, piracy cannot be committed by warships (or other
State vessels) or State aircraft. Basically, this is the traditional defi-
nition of piracy jure gentium, as it has been consolidated in cus-
tomary international law, although the reference to aircraft (“a
sensible application of analogy”) is innovative.23
12. Article 102 only underlines this general proposition by adding:
“The acts of piracy, as defined in Article 101, committed by a warship,
government ship or government aircraft whose crew has mutinied and
taken control of the ship or aircraft are assimilated to acts committed by
a private ship or aircraft”.24
Three comments are in order here:
     (i) It must be appreciated that mutiny per se does not amount to
piracy jure gentium.25 Piracy jure gentium will be committed
only in case that the mutineers engage on the high seas in acts
of violence, detention or depredation and meet the other con-
ditions set out in the definition incorporated in Article 101.
  (ii) Mutiny in this context must be understood broadly. If “govern-
ment-owned launches are taken out unofficially to engage in
piratical acts”, it will be only “reasonable to assimilate such cir-
cumstances to mutiny”.26
(iii) The emphasis in Articles 101 and 102 is placed on the nature
of the vessel or the aircraft. As A. Cassese points out, “the fact
that the pirates happened to have the status of State officials
when they had engaged in piratical acts while pursuing private
ends did not impede their prosecution and punishment by
other States (unless of course they could show that they had
acted on behalf of a State, in which case state responsibility
arose)”.27 In other words, the perpetrators of acts of piracy–if
they are not private persons altogether–must at least be engaged
in piracy in their private capacity.

23
Brownlie (note 10), at 229.
24
LOS Convention (note 7), at 58.
25
See P. Malanczuk (ed.), Akehurst’s Modern Introduction to International Law,
at 189 (7th ed. 1997).
26
R.R. Churchill/A.V. Lowe, The Law of the Sea, at 210 note 14 (3rd ed. 1999).
27
A. Cassese, International Law, at 435–436 (2nd ed. 2005).
 piracy jure gentium1131

13. Absent mutiny in the broad sense, State-commissioned platforms–

especially, warships and military aircraft–cannot be deemed to be
engaged in piratical acts. Admittedly, in 1937–at the time of the
Spanish Civil War–an Arrangement was concluded in Nyon
“against piratical acts by submarines”, committed in the Mediter-
ranean by unidentified (actually, German and Italian) submarines
and resulting in the sinking of merchant ships not belonging to the
conflicting parties.28 The Nyon Arrangement promulgated that
such attacks “should be justly treated as acts of piracy”.29 The ratio-
nale apparently was that, since no Government had conceded that
its submarines had committed the attacks, this was a “piratical situ-
ation”.30 However, the Nyon Agreement must be considered “an ad
hoc arrangement”–motivated by popular use of the term piracy in
the wrong connection at the time (cf. supra paragraph 1)–and not
as an attempt to redefine piracy jure gentium.31 As far as the general
definition goes, it is self-evident that attack submarines are not
craft which are likely to be operated by persons acting in their pri-
vate capacity. The ILC explicitly rejected the Nyon Agreement as a
precedent confirming “a new law in process of development”, and it
concluded that the special treaty law does not “invalidate the prin-
ciple that piracy can only be committed by private ships”.32

III. The Purpose

14. It is not enough that the perpetrators of piracy must be private
persons (in the sense discussed supra at paragraph 11). Article 101
also makes it evident that an act is not considered piracy unless it is
committed “for private ends”. The combination of private actors
and private ends is unique in international criminal law.33

28
Nyon Arrangement, 181 League of Nations Treaty Series 135, at 137 (1937).
29
Id.
30
L.F.E. Goldie, Terrorism, Piracy and the Nyon Agreements, in: Y. Dinstein (ed.),
International Law at a Time of Perplexity: Essays in Honour of Shabtai Rosenne, 225,
at 243 (1989).
31
See D.H.N. Johnson, Piracy in Modern International Law, 43 Transactions of the
Grotius Society, 63, at 84–85 (1957).
32
Report of the International Law Commission (note 6), at 282.
33
See L. Reydams, Universal Jurisdiction: International and Municipal Legal
Perspectives, at 58 (2003).
1132 yoram dinstein

15. Although the expression “private ends” may not be self-explana-

tory,34 it is plain that any private ends will do. Contrary to some
earlier thinking, the ILC specifically decided that “[t]he intention
to rob (animus furandi) is not required” (cf. supra paragraph 8).35
The adjective “private”, modifying the noun “ends”, is the antonym
of “public”. It is consequently hard to argue with the statement that
“acts solely inspired by political motives” are excluded from piracy
jure gentium.36
16. The distinction between private and public or political acts is often
self-evident. Robbery or rape indisputably falls within the rubric of
private ends; acts committed with a view to harming the interests
of a State or its Government are irrefutably public or political by
nature. But there are multiple borderline cases which emerge
between the two extremes. In 1986, the Belgian Court of Cassation
held that when a group of “Greenpeace” environmentalists boarded,
occupied and caused damage to two vessels on the high seas
engaged in the discharge of noxious waste, the acts of violence
amounted to piracy since they were committed “purely in support
of a personal point of view concerning a particular problem, even
if they reflected a political perspective”.37 The decision, to say the
least, is not unassailable. Still, there is no doubt that the question
whether an act is carried out for private or political ends ought to
be determined objectively, and it is not enough that “the perpetra-
tor so characterizes it”.38
17. In principle, insurgent ships or aircraft operating in the course of a
“civil war” cannot be considered as indulging in piracy jure gen-
tium. All the same, if ships or aircraft belonging to insurgents or
other armed groups commit–on the high seas–acts of violence,
detention or depredation directed against the vessels or aircraft of
foreign countries (or persons or property on board) for private

34
For the origins of the phrase in the text see M. Halberstam, Terrorism on the
High Seas: The Achille Lauro, Piracy and the IMO Convention on Maritime Safety,
82 American Journal of International Law 269, at 276–284 (1988).
35
Report of the International Law Commission (note 6), at 282.
36
J.L. Brierly, The Law of Nations: An Introduction to the International Law of
Peace, at 313 (6th ed., by C.H.M. Waldock 1963).
37
Castle John et al. v. NV Mabeco et al. (Belgium, Court of Cassation, 1986),
77 International Law Reports 537, at 540.
38
S.P. Menefee, Piracy, Terrorism, and the Insurgent Passenger: A Historical and
Legal Perspective, in: N. Rozitti (note 8), 43, at 60 (1990).
 piracy jure gentium1133

ends, not connected with the “civil war”, this would constitute
piracy jure gentium.39

IV. The Venue

18. Article 101 underscores that piracy can take place only on the high
seas or in another place outside the jurisdiction of any State. As far
as the high seas are concerned, Article 58(2) of the LOS Conven-
tion elucidates that Articles 88 to 115 (thus incorporating Article
101 and all the ensuing clauses relevant to piracy) are applicable
also to the exclusive economic zones of coastal States.40 As regards
other places outside the jurisdiction of any State, the ILC had in
mind mainly “an island constituting terra nullius”.41 In addition, it
is possible to think of “areas of Antarctica over which no State has
established sovereignty”,42 and indeed outer space will be subsumed
under the same heading.43
19. The pivotal point is that piracy jure gentium may not occur within
the territory of any State (neither land territory, internal waters,
territorial sea, archipelagic waters nor airspace). This is important
to bear in mind in view of the fact that, statistically, most inci-
dents of attacks against commercial vessels apparently take place
within the territorial jurisdiction of coastal States, when the vessels
in question lie at anchor or are berthed.44 In all these cases, the
response is exclusively determined by the domestic law in situ, and
the construct of piracy jure gentium is inapplicable.
20. Even raids by pirates conducted from the high seas into an area
under the jurisdiction of a State exceed the bounds of the defini-
tion of piracy jure gentium. Such illegal acts of violence, detention
or depredation–occurring within the territorial sea, archipelagic or
internal waters of a State or reaching inland–are usually called

39
See I.A. Shearer (ed.), Starke’s International Law, at 249 (11th ed. 1994).
40
LOS Convention (note 7), at 57.
41
Report of the International Law Commission (note 6), at 282.
42
E.D. Brown, The International Law of the Sea, at 302 (1994).
43
Outer space (including the moon and other celestial bodies) is “not subject to
national appropriation by claim of sovereignty” under Article II of the 1967 Treaty on
Principles Governing the Activities of States in the Exploration and Use of Outer Space,
including the Moon and Other Celestial Bodies, [1966] United Nations Juridical
Yearbook 166, at 167.
44
See J.M. Isanga, Countering Persistent Contemporary Sea Piracy: Expanding
Jurisdictional Regimes, 59 American University Law Review 1267, at 1287–1288
(2009–2010).
1134 yoram dinstein

“armed robbery” (a misnomer, considering that the range of

violence involved exceeds robbery). This expression reflects IMO
(International Maritime Organization) terminology for piracy-like
activities within a State’s jurisdiction.45 The phrase has been used,
inter alia, in Security Council Resolutions 1816, 1851, 1897 and
1950 (see infra, paragraph 36). Naturally, nothing prevents States
from cooperating in the suppression not only of piracy but also of
armed robbery. Indeed, a Regional Cooperation Agreement on
Combating Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships in Asia was
concluded in 2005.46
21. The reference to incitement and facilitation in paragraph (c) of
Article 101 raises a question of venue, unaddressed by the authors
(the ILC). Where are the acts of incitement and facilitation perpe-
trated? Logic dictates that these ancillary forms of piracy may take
place on land (within the jurisdiction of a State), even though the
principal acts of piracy must be carried out on the high seas or
outside the jurisdiction of any State.
22. In part because piracy does not apply to attacks against targets on
land, ICAO in 1988 adopted a Protocol for the Suppression of
Unlawful Acts of Violence at Airports Serving International Civil
Aviation.47

V. The Target
23.   Paragraph (a) (i) of Article 101 requires that an act of piracy be
directed “against another ship or aircraft”, which is boarded by the
pirates from their ship/aircraft. But the ILC went out of its way to
stress that:
“Acts committed on board a ship by the crew or passengers and directed
against the ship itself, or against persons or property on the ship, cannot
be regarded as acts of piracy”.48

45
International Maritime Organization, Code of Practice for the Investigation of
the Crimes of Piracy and Armed Robbery Against Ships, Resolution A.922(22), Annex,
paragraph 2.2 (2002).
46
Regional Cooperation Agreement on Combating Piracy and Armed Robbery
against Ships in Asia, 2005, 44 International Legal Materials 829 (2005).
47
Protocol for the Suppression of Unlawful Acts of Violence at Airports Serving
International Civil Aviation, Supplementary to the Montreal Convention, [1988]
United Nations Juridical Yearbook 245.
48
Report of the International Law Commission (note 6), at 282.
 piracy jure gentium1135

That is to say, piratical attacks cannot be launched from within the

target ship or aircraft. A minimum of two vessels or aircraft (or a
vessel and an aircraft) must be involved in piracy. As for the target
ship or aircraft, it makes no difference if it is private or public (civil-
ian or military).
24. The insistence on a minimum of two vessels/aircraft revealed a gap
in the law. This came to the fore in 1961, when the Portuguese ves-
sel The Santa Maria was seized by a group of passengers on board
(the case also raised problems relating to the purposes of the sei-
zure).49 A similar question arose with respect to attacks on the high
seas against fixed installations (like oil rigs on the continental
shelf), as distinct from vessels/aircraft. The dual issue was resolved
only upon the adoption by the IMO, in 1988, of the Rome Conven-
tion for the Suppression of Unlawful Acts against the Safety of
Maritime Navigation and Protocol for the Suppression of Unlawful
Acts against the Safety of Fixed Platforms Located on the Conti-
nental Shelf (generally known as the SUA Convention).50 In the air,
the parallel lacuna (pertaining to hijackings and sabotage without
the involvement of another aircraft/vessel) had been addressed
already in the early 1970s, in the ICAO Hague and Montreal Con-
ventions (see supra paragraph 4).
25. The ILC took the position that, whereas aircraft could be used to
commit acts of piracy, “acts committed in the air by one aircraft
against another aircraft can hardly be regarded as acts of piracy”.51
But, as adopted, the 1958 and 1982 texts of the definition of piracy
added aircraft not only as platforms for actors but as targets too. On
the face of it, the extension of the range of piracy is not practical,
bearing in mind the impossibility of seizing aircraft in flight. Yet,
(i) other acts of violence are possible; and (ii) even seizure is not an
implausible scenario when seaplanes alight on water, and perhaps
even helicopters may be vulnerable in certain situations.
26.   There is one exception to the two vessels/aircraft rule. As can easily
be inferred from a comparison between sub-paragraphs (a) (i) and

49
On this case see Colombos (note 20), at 445; L.C. Green, The Santa Maria: Rebels
or Pirates, 37 British Year Book of International Law 496, at 503 (1961).
50
Rome Convention for the Suppression of Unlawful Acts against the Safety of
Maritime Navigation and Protocol for the Suppression of Unlawful Acts against the
Safety of Fixed Platforms Located on the Continental Shelf, [1988] United Nations
Juridical Yearbook 248.
51
Report of the International Law Commission (note 6), at 282.
1136 yoram dinstein

(ii) of Article 101, in areas away from the high seas–outside the ter-
ritories of all States–persons and property under attack by pirates
need not be aboard a ship or an aircraft.52

C. Action against Piracy

I. The Obligation
27. Article 100 of the LOS Convention sets forth:
 “All States shall co-operate to the fullest possible extent in the repression
of piracy on the high seas or in any other place outside the jurisdiction
of any State”.53
    The use of the verb “shall” denotes that there is a mandatory provi-
sion: all States incur an obligation to cooperate in the suppression
of piracy. As the ILC explained:
 “Any State having an opportunity of taking measures against piracy, and
neglecting to do so, would be failing in a duty laid upon it by interna-
tional law”.54
    Obviously, the concrete contribution to the implementation of this
duty by any given State depends on its military capabilities on the
high seas. Hence, the modifier: “to the fullest possible extent”.
28. Cooperation between States in the suppression of piracy may
require further agreements, concluded bilaterally, regionally or
multilaterally. Thus, in an Exchange of Notes in 1980, the US agreed
to assist Thailand in operating aircraft and ships to patrol the Gulf
of Thailand against pirates preying on distressed “boat refugees”
from Vietnam.55 There are several inter-State mechanisms in place
for coordinated action against piracy in the Strait of Malacca, one
of the most important shipping lanes in the world, which has been
become a prime target of pirates.56 Off the Horn of Africa, NATO,

52
See Brown (note 42), at 303.
53
LOS Convention (note 7), at 57.
54
Report of the International Law Commission (note 6), at 282.
55
Digest of United States Practice in International Law 1980, at 196–197 (M. Nash
Leich ed.).
56
See Y. Song, Security in the Strait of Malacca and the Regional Maritime Security
Initiative: Responses to the US Proposal, Global Legal Challenges: Command of the
Commons, Strategic Communications and Natural Disasters, 83 International Law
Studies 97 (M.D. Carsten, ed.) (2007).
 piracy jure gentium1137

the European Union and other navies closely cooperate in opera-

tions designed to safeguard commercial sealanes.
29. It ought be added that the right of States to take action against
pirates is not contingent on any directive emanating from a central
organ of the international community (especially the UN Security
Council); and there cannot be any posture of “neutrality” in the
face of piracy.

II. The Acts

30. Article 105 of the LOS Convention prescribes:
 “On the high seas, or in any other place outside the jurisdiction of
any State, every State may seize a pirate ship or aircraft, or a ship or
aircraft taken by piracy and under the control of pirates, and arrest the
persons and seize the property on board. The courts of the State which
carried out the seizure may decide upon the penalties to be imposed,
and may also determine the action to be taken with regard to the ships,
aircraft or property, subject to the rights of third parties acting in good
faith”.57
31. The main act against pirates consists of seizure of their ship/air-
craft. All persons on board a pirate-controlled ship/aircraft may be
arrested and all property there seized as well. Arrest is to be fol-
lowed by trial and punishment of the pirates. The seized ships, air-
craft or property are liable to condemnation. While the text of the
LOS Convention does not explicitly say so, seizure of a pirate ship/
aircraft clearly implies the use of reasonable–even deadly–force
required to accomplish it, especially when an attempt is made by
the pirates to resist or escape. Deadly force may also be used in self-
defence against pirates and in rescue operations. Thus, in April
2009, US Navy Seals killed several Somali pirates while rescuing an
American merchant marine captain captured by them.58 When a
vessel controlled by pirates refuses to heave to, fire may be opened
and fatalities may be caused.59

57
LOS Convention (note 7), at 58.
58
See L. Azubuike, International Law Regime against Piracy, 15 Annual Survey of
International and Comparative Law 43, at 57 (2009).
59
See report on contemporary practice in: 103 American Journal of International
Law 146, at 147 (2009).
1138 yoram dinstein

III. The Actors

32. Who can conduct the seizure of a pirate ship/aircraft? Article 107
of the LOS Convention enunciates:
 “A seizure on account of piracy may be carried out only by warships or
military aircraft, or other ships or aircraft clearly marked and identifia-
ble as being on government service and authorized to that effect”.60
This is another instance in which the 1958/1982 text departs from
the original proposal of the ILC, which was intended to limit the
entitlement of action against pirates to warships or military air-
craft, and to exclude other State ships or aircraft.61
33. The suppression of piracy jure gentium may be carried out by every
State through the seizure of pirate ships and the arrest of persons
on board. Every State, that is, not necessarily (i) the nearest coastal
State; (ii) the State of nationality of either the pirates or their vic-
tims; or (iii) the flag State of the ship used by the pirates or captured
by them. The reason for the sweeping power to act against piracy
jure gentium is that a pirate has always been regarded by interna-
tional law as “the enemy of all mankind–hostis humani generis–
whom any nation may in the interest of all capture and punish”.62
34. In its commentary on the text, the ILC explained:
 “Clearly this article does not apply in the case of a merchant ship which
has repulsed an attack by a pirate ship and, in exercising its right of self-
defence, overpowers the pirate ship and subsequently hands it over to a
warship or to the authorities of a coastal State. This is not a ‘seizure’
within the meaning of this article”.63
All the same, evidently, under Article 107, there is no room for
vigilante-type actions by private persons (other than the intended
victims) for the suppression of piracy.

IV. The Venue

35. The seizure of a pirate ship or aircraft–like the piratical act itself–
can take place only on the high seas or in any other place outside
the jurisdiction of any State. Just as a raid on land by marauders

60
LOS Convention (note 7), at 58.
61
Report of the International Law Commission (note 6), at 283.
62
See Moore (note 9), at 69.
63
Report of the International Law Commission (note 6), at 283.
 piracy jure gentium1139

from the sea does not come within the definition of piracy (see
supra paragraph 20), no foreign State is allowed to encroach upon
the territory of another State (without the latter’s consent) in pur-
suit of pirates.
36. In exceptional circumstances, the Security Council–in a binding
decision adopted under Chapter VII of the Charter–may resolve
the matter otherwise. It must be kept in mind that, where there is a
clash between a binding resolution adopted by the Security Coun-
cil and the LOS Convention, the binding resolution will take prior-
ity over the Convention.64 The Security Council is empowered by
the UN Charter to mandate or authorize enforcement action
against any State. Indeed, in Resolution 1816 (2008), the Security
Council–acting under Chapter VII–decided that, for a period of
six months, States cooperating in the fight against pirates off the
coast of Somalia could:
 “Use, within the territorial waters of Somalia, in a manner consistent
with action permitted on the high seas with respect to piracy under
relevant international law, all necessary means to repress acts of piracy
and armed robbery”.65
Moreover, in another Chapter VII decision–Resolution 1851
(2008)–the Security Council decided that, for a period of twelve
months, States and regional organizations cooperating in the fight
against piracy and armed robbery at sea off the coast of Somalia
“may undertake all necessary measures that are appropriate in
Somalia”.66 This text surely means that action may be taken against
land-based sanctuaries of pirates in Somalia. The valid period was
extended (each time for twelve more months) in additional Chap-
ter VII decisions, Resolutions 1897 (2009) and 1950 (2010).67
37. If and when action is taken by any State against land-based sanctu-
aries of pirates–located in a foreign country–without the consent
of the territorial sovereign, the legal position is no longer regulated
by the LOS.

64
See R.R. Churchill, Conflicts between United Nations Security Council
Resolutions and the 1982 United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, and
Their Possible Resolution, International Law and Military Operations, 84 International
Law Studies, 143, at 154 (M.D. Carsten, ed.) (2008).
65
SC Res. 1816 of 2 June 2008, para. 7 (b).
66
SC Res. 1851 of 16 December 2008, para. 6.
67
SC Res. 1897 of 30 November 2009, para. 7; SC Res. 1950 of 23 November 2010,
para. 7.
1140 yoram dinstein

V. The Target
38. Any ship or aircraft under the control of pirates may be seized,
including any vessel or aircraft which they may have captured
themselves. The key is not the fact that a ship sails (or an aircraft
flies) without a flag (or markings) or even that it has been used in
the past for the commission of piratical acts.68 Rather, the test is
whether the ship/aircraft remains under the dominant control of
the persons who have committed those acts.69 Article 103 lays
down:
 “A ship or aircraft is considered a pirate ship or aircraft if it is in
tended by the persons in dominant control to be used for the purpose
of committing one of the acts referred to in Article 101. The same
applies if the ship or aircraft has been used to commit any such act,
so long as it remains under the control of the persons guilty of that
act”.70
39. When seizure of a ship/aircraft on suspicion of piracy is effected
without adequate grounds, Article 106 of the LOS Convention
holds the seizing State liable to the State of nationality for any loss
or damage caused by the seizure.71 Article 104 promulgates that a
ship or aircraft retains its nationality notwithstanding its having
become a pirate ship or aircraft.72
40. Under Article 110(1)(a) of the LOS Convention, a warship
can always exercise the right to “visit”–viz. board–any foreign ship
(which is not itself a warship or used exclusively on govern
ment non-commercial service) on the high seas when it is reason-
ably suspected of being engaged in piracy.73 Mutatis mutandis,
this can also be done by a military aircraft (in practical terms, a
helicopter).74 Thus, suspicion is ground enough for action.
If the suspicion proves to be unfounded, the ship boarded is to be
compensated for any loss or damage it may have sustained,

68
See Report of the International Law Commission (note 6), at 283.
69
See id.
70
LOS Convention (note 7), at 58.
71
Id., at 58.
72
Id.
73
Id., at 59.
74
Id., at 60 (Article 110 (4)).
 piracy jure gentium1141

provided that it has not committed any act justifying the suspi-
cion.75
41. It may as well be added that the suppression of piracy has nothing
to do with the right of hot pursuit dealt with in Article 111 of the
LOS Convention.76 Under this provision, hot pursuit relates to
a violation of the domestic law of a State; is commenced from
within internal or archipelagic waters, the territorial sea or the
contiguous zone (or exclusive economic zone) of the pursuing
State; and must not be interrupted. In the case of piracy, (i) the
violation is of international law; (ii) the action taken against the
pirates has to start and end on the high seas (or, in any event, out-
side the territories of all States); (iii) no continuous pursuit is nec-
essary: a ship suspected of piracy may be boarded and seized
whenever sighted on the high seas. A common feature of hot pur-
suit and activities against pirate ships is that they cannot encroach
upon the territory (including territorial waters etc.) of a coastal
State.

VI. Prosecution and Punishment

42. Article 105 of the LOS Convention does not establish a clear-cut
obligation for the captor State to prosecute and punish the pirates
whom it has arrested.77 All that Article 105 says (in permissive lan-
guage) is that “[t]he courts of the State which carried out the sei-
zure may decide upon the penalties to be imposed”. Although the
courts of other States are not mentioned, “[t]his should not be read
as granting exclusive jurisdiction” to the courts of the captor State.78
Wherever the trial is held, it must surely be conducted in full com-
pliance with the judicial guarantees prescribed in international
human rights law.79

75
Id. (Article 110 (3)).
76
Id.
77
See L.C. Green, Terrorism and the Law of the Sea, in: Y. Dinstein (note 30), 249,
at 265 (1989).
78
R. Cryer, Prosecuting International Crimes: Selectivity and the International
Criminal Law Regime, at 86 (2005).
79
See especially Article 14 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political
Rights, 1966, Article 6 (2), in: G. Melander/G. Alfredsson (eds.) Raoul Wallenberg
Compilation of Human Rights Instruments 43, at 47–48 (1997).
1142 yoram dinstein

43. It is generally accepted that, “in the case of what is known as

piracy by the law of nations, there has been conceded a universal
jurisdiction, under which the person charged with the offence
may be tried and punished by any nation into whose jurisdiction
he may come”.80 The exercise of universal jurisdiction in a case of
piracy has “traditionally” been recognized by customary interna-
tional law.81
44. Universal jurisdiction is defined as follows by the Institut de Droit
International:
“Universal jurisdiction in criminal matters, as an additional ground
of jurisdiction, means the competence of a State to prosecute alleged
offenders and to punish them if convicted, irrespective of the place of
commission of the crime and regardless of any link of active or passive
personality, or other grounds of jurisdiction recognized by international
law”.82
45. It goes without saying that it is not enough for international law
to open the door wide to universal jurisdiction over pirates by all
States. The “nominal availability of universal jurisdiction for piracy
does not translate in practice into” the actual exercise of ­jurisdiction
of given pirates by a given State.83 First and foremost, penal
proceedings are not possible unless the domestic criminal code
enables the prosecution of pirates, notwithstanding the absence of
any direct link between the accused and the prosecuting State or
its nationals. Empirically, it turns out that the domestic laws of
many a State do not provide the necessary prosecutorial tools.84
This has led the Security Council to adopt Resolution 1918 (2010),
which calls on all States to criminalize piracy under their domestic
laws.85

80
See Moore (note 9), at 69.
81
See the Separate Opinion of President Guillaume in the Case Concerning
the Arrest Warrant of 11 April 2000 (Democratic Republic of the Congo v. Belgium),
ICJ Reports 2002, 3, at 38.
82
Resolution on Universal Criminal Jurisdiction with Respect to the Crime of
Genocide, Crimes against Humanity and War Crimes, 71-II Annuaire de l’Institut de
Droit International 297, id. (Session de Cracovie, 2005).
83
E. Kontorovich/S. Art, An Empirical Examination of Universal Jurisdiction for
Piracy, 104 American Journal of International Law 436, at 453 (2010).
84
See J.A. Roach, Countering Piracy off Somalia: International Law and International
Institutions, 104 American Journal of International Law 397, at 414 (2010).
85
SC Res. 1918 of 27 April 2010, para. 2.
 piracy jure gentium1143

46. Even when a State is equipped with the prosecutorial tools, it may
not be too sanguine about employing them. This is particularly
true of States playing important roles in anti-piracy operations in
remote areas, for instance European countries with warships fend-
ing off pirates near the Horn of Africa. Delivering Somali pirates
for trial in a European court has a three-pronged disadvantage:
   (i) Once the pirates are apprehended, putting them behind bars
on deck for a relatively long period of time (until the return to
home port)–which the captor warship may not be designed
for–may prove quite inconvenient and may even hamper con-
tinued operations.
  (ii) Witnesses and other evidence required for the trial and con-
viction of Somali pirates in a European court will not be read-
ily available, and hauling them off across the ocean may be
costly and not even practicable.
(iii) The captor European country will have to cope with the alarm-
ing possibility that, upon eventually being released from jail
(after any sentence of imprisonment imposed on them has
run its course), convicted pirates–and, a fortiori, persons
accused of piracy who have been acquitted for lack of evidence
beyond reasonable doubt–may wish to stay in Europe and
even seek political asylum there.
47. By dint of these difficulties, a practice (not contemplated in
Article 10586) has developed whereby warships patrolling the
waters near the Horn of Africa hand Somali pirates over for trial
and punishment in nearby Kenya. In Resolution 1851, the Security
Council expressly invited States fighting piracy off the coast of
Somalia to conclude special agreements with countries in the
region willing to take custody of pirates, in order to initiate penal
proceedings against them.87 Several such agreements were accord-
ingly concluded by the United States and European countries with
Kenya.88 The paradigmatic example is the 2009 Exchange of Notes

86
See M. Sterio, Fighting Piracy in Somalia (and Elsewhere): Why More Is Needed,
59 Fordham International Law Journal 372, at 391 (2010).
87
SC Res. 1851/2008 (note 66), at para. 3.
88
See J.T. Gathii, Kenya’s Piracy Prosecutions, 104 American Journal of International
Law 416, at 416–417 (2010).
1144 yoram dinstein

between the European Union and Kenya on the Condition and

Modalities for the Transfer of Persons Suspected of Having Com-
mitted Acts of Piracy.89 When the pirates are prosecuted by Kenya
(as has happened already in scores of cases), this is naturally done
under Kenyan domestic law.90
48. Punishment of convicted pirates may be imposed in accordance
with the domestic law of the court sitting in judgment. In
the past, pirates could be hanged on the spot upon capture.91 But
the law has changed in keeping with the evolution of human rights.
As stated in the 1966 International Covenant on Civil and Political
Rights, the death penalty “can only be carried out pursuant
to a final judgment rendered by a competent court”.92 Moreover, at
the present juncture many States are Contracting Parties to
treaties which abolish the death penalty altogether. These treaties
are applicable either globally (the Second Optional Protocol
of 1989 to the International Covenant on Civil and Political
Rights93) or regionally (in Europe–where the abolition of capital
punishment took effect in two stages, first with an option for States
to maintain the death penalty in wartime,94 and then excluding
even that possibility95–and in the American continent96).

89
Exchange of Letters on the Condition and Modalities for the Transfer of Persons
Suspected of Having Committed Acts of Piracy, 2009, 48 International Legal Materials
751 (2009).
90
See J.T. Gathii, The Use of Force, Freedom of Commerce, and Double Standards
in Prosecuting Pirates in Kenya, 59 American University Law Review 1321, at 1335
(2009–2010).
91
See L. Oppenheim, International Law, Vol. 1, at 616 (8th ed., H. Lauterpacht ed.,
1955).
92
International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights 1966, Article 6 (2) (note 79),
at 45.
93
Second Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on Civil and Political
Rights, 1989, Article 1, (note 79), at 65.
94
Protocol No. 6 to the European Convention for the Protection of Human Rights
and Fundamental Freedoms Concerning the Abolition of the Death Penalty, 1983,
Article 1, (note 79), at 105.
95
Protocol No. 13 to the European Convention for the Protection of Human Rights
and Fundamental Freedoms Concerning the Abolition of the Death Penalty in All
Circumstances, 2002, Article 1, 41 International Legal Materials 515, id. (2002).
96
Protocol to the American Convention on Human Rights to Abolish the Death
Penalty, 1990, Article 1, Raoul Wallenberg Compilation of Human Rights Instruments
(note 79), at 189.
 piracy jure gentium1145

D. Conclusion

49. The reemergence of piracy on a large scale off the coast of Africa
has drawn world-wide attention to an age-old phenomenon which
requires collective action in response. International law copes with
piracy on a sui generis basis.97 But increasingly the question is
whether international law and domestic law are fully synchronized
in the face of this man-made malady.

97
See Moore (note 9), at 69.
 Policing the Oceans–New Issues

Jochen Abr. Frowein

Rüdiger Wolfrum has always been active in elaborating the regime for
the oceans as well as for other spaces outside national jurisdiction.1
In his seminal treatise on spaces outside national jurisdiction he has
underlined the possibilities to control sea-traffic under specific cir-
cumstances.2 Therefore, he may be interested in a discussion concern-
ing new developments for the control of shipments on the High Seas.

A. Introduction

The history of international law shows that policing the oceans against
specific prohibited traffic has an old tradition. The famous develop-
ment for the abolition of the slave trade is the most important exam­
ple. As Wilhelm Grewe has shown the crowning accomplishment of
the entire system was the Quintuple Treaty for the Suppression of the
African Slave Trade of 20 December 1841. On the invitation of
the King of France and the Queen of England, the Monarchs of Prussia,
Austria and Russia declared themselves prepared to forbid all trade in
African slaves under their flag. The contracting parties agreed that
those of their warships which where equipped with a special mandate
and instructions could visit a merchant ship belonging to one of them
and justifiably suspected of engaging in the slave trade. In these cases
they were authorized to arrest the ship and bring it through an agreed
process to condemnation.3 The British Navy also stopped and seized
several United States slave ships which gave rise to prolonged disputes
between Britain and the United States.4
Already for some time now international law has introduced possi-
bilities for policing the oceans and interfering with illegal traffic also

1
See R. Wolfrum, Die Internationalisierung staatsfreier Räume (1984).
2
Id., at 148 ss.
3
W.G. Grewe, The Epochs of International Law, at 554 ss., 561 s. (2000); France did
not ratify the treaty.
4
Id., at 565.
1148 jochen abr. frowein

for other grounds. A good example is the United Nations Convention

against Illicit Traffic in Narcotic Drugs and Psycotropic Substances
signed in Vienna on 20 December 1988. According to Art. 17 the par-
ties shall co-operate to the fullest extent possible to suppress illicit traf-
fic by sea, in conformity with the international law of the sea. This
repeats Art. 108 UNCLOS but it adds that where a party has reasonable
grounds to suspect that a vessel exercising freedom of navigation and
flying the flag of another party is engaged in illicit traffic it may request
authorization for boarding, searching and taking appropriate action
concerning the cargo on board.
An example for activity in this connection is shown by the case of
Medvedyev and others v. France decided by the Grand Chamber of the
European Court of Human Rights on 29 March 2010. The French Navy
intercepted a Cambodian vessel because of the justified suspicion that
the ship was carrying large quantities of drugs. The ship had attracted
the attention of the American, Spanish and Greek Anti-Drug Services
and the French Ministry of the Interior requested authorization to
intercept it. In a diplomatic note of 7 June 2002 in response to a request
from the French Embassy in Cambodia, the Cambodian Minister of
Foreign Affairs formally authorized the French Authorities to inter-
cept, inspect and take legal action against the ship “Winner” flying the
Cambodian flag, belonging to a company in the Marshall Islands. A
French frigate intercepted the “Winner” and brought it into the French
port Brest where proceedings where opened. This contribution will
show that international law has developed further and will not always
exclusively rely on the consent of the flag State as precondition for
interception.

B. Policing under the Authority of the Security Council

On 12 June 2009 the Security Council has, in Resolution 1874 (2009),

established a system to control shipments of nuclear weapons but also
of other arms and related material from the Democratic People’s
Republic of Korea to other countries. The resolution is based on
Chapter VII and takes measures under Art. 41 of the United Nations
Charter. In para. 11 the Council calls upon all States to inspect, in
accordance with their national authorities and legislation, and consist-
ent with international law, all cargo to and from North Korea, in their
territory, including seaports and airports if there is information that
 policing the oceans–new issues1149

the cargo contains items prohibited under the resolution. Para. 12 then
calls upon all States to inspect vessels, with the consent of the flag State
on the High Seas, if they have information that provides reasonable
grounds to believe that the cargo of such vessels is prohibited under the
resolution. Here, the consent of the flag State is required which means
that the inspection is dependent on the flag State’s decision.
However, what is extremely important is the addition made by para.
13 of the resolution. This paragraph calls upon all States to co-operate
with inspections pursuant to paras. 11 and 12 and lays down a rule if
the flag State does not consent to inspection. It is stated there that if the
flag State does not consent to inspection on the High Seas the Security
Council “decides” that the flag State shall direct the vessel to proceed to
an appropriate and convenient port for the required inspection by the
local authorities pursuant to para. 11. The use of the term “decides” by
the Security Council in para. 13 shows that here a formal obligation
under Art. 41 of the United Nations Charter is created for the flag State.
The flag State must direct the vessel to proceed to an appropriate and
convenient port for inspection.
This is the most far reaching obligation laid down so far by the
Security Council for action on the High Seas. The US-delegate spoke of
a “wholly new framework for States to cooperate in this inspection of
ships”.5 It must be discussed what exactly are the consequences of this
decision by the Council. First of all the appropriate and convenient
port will normally not be a port of the flag State. When a vessel is on the
High Seas and is called upon to agree to inspection the appropriate and
convenient port for the required inspection will rarely be a port of the
flag State. It is clear, therefore, that the decision taken by the Security
Council under Art. 41 obliges the flag State to agree to inspection in a
foreign country.
The question arises what happens when the flag State does not com-
ply with its obligation to direct the vessel to proceed to an appropriate
and convenient port for the required inspection. Art. 41 does not con-
tain an authorization to use force on the High Seas to direct the vessel
to such a port. The Russian delegate underlined that Art. 41 does not
provide for the use of military force.6 According to Art. 49 of the United
Nations Charter “The Members of the United Nations shall join in

5
S/PV. 6141, at 2.
6
Id., at 8.
1150 jochen abr. frowein

affording mutual assistance in carrying out the measures decided upon

by the Security Council”. Art. 49 certainly creates the obligation for a
port State to open its port for the inspection required by para. 13 of the
Resolution. If the respective vessel has difficulties to navigate Art. 49 is
also a clear legal basis for assistance offered by any State to enable the
vessel to proceed to the port of inspection. However, Art. 49 cannot
be seen as a basis for using force to direct the vessel to a port of
inspection.
It may be of interest in the present context to mention the precedent
of the boarding of the Hansa India, flying the German flag, on 3
October 2009 by the US-Navy without formal consent by Germany in
the Red Sea. The US-Navy inspected the cargo of the German ship
which was in clear violation of Security Council resolutions concern-
ing export of arms from Iran. Germany did not protest the boarding
and the inspection. Rather, Germany acquiesced to the confiscation of
materials in Malta. Other parts of the cargo were confiscated by
German police and customs after the ship arrived back in Germany.7
The case is of interest in the present context because the United
States tried to get formal German permission to inspect the ship. This
formal permission was not given, apparently because the different
German authorities responsible could not agree within the timeframe
offered by the US-authorities. However, Germany clearly did not refuse
consent. It just did not answer the request in any way. After the inspec-
tion Germany did not protest. This means it acquiesced and could not
later argue that there was a violation of international law. On the basis
of Resolution 1874 (2009), para. 13, a similar situation could arise. The
navy of a country having clear information that a ship is transporting
arms in violation of this resolution would try to get the consent of the
flag State. If the flag State would not answer the question arises whether
inspection could take place under the assumption that the flag State
acquiesced to the inspection. Security Council Resolution 1874 (2009)
must be seen as creating the formal obligation for any flag State to
answer the call for inspection in due course. If the flag State refuses to
answer the call for inspection the respective requesting country may
assume that the flag State agrees to the inspection.
It is interesting to note in that context that Resolution 1929 (2010) of
9 June 2010 concerning Iran stops short of including the “decision”

7
See J.A. Frowein, The Security Council and the Security on the Seas, in:
H. Hestermeyer et al. (eds.), Law of the Sea in Dialogue, 179 (2011).
 policing the oceans–new issues1151

discussed above. The resolution concerning Iran notes that States con-
sistent with international law, in particular the law of the sea, may
request inspection of vessels on the high seas with the consent of the
flag State and calls upon all States to cooperate in such inspections if
there is information that provides reasonable grounds to believe the
vessel is carrying prohibited items. Analyzing this part of the resolu-
tion it seems clear that the need for the consent of the flag State for the
inspection is fully recognized by the resolution. It can be asked whether
the call upon all States to co-operate can be seen as a legal obligation
for the flag State to consent to inspection if there are reasonable grounds
to believe that the vessel carries prohibited items. However, it seems
difficult to go so far in the interpretation of the resolution. Unless the
flag State agrees that there are reasonable grounds to believe that the
vessel is carrying prohibited items it seems impossible to derive an
obligation for the flag State to consent to inspection. In this respect
the sovereignty of the flag State must be seen as paramount and can be
limited only by clear wording of Security Council Resolutions.8 If
the flag State does not agree that prohibited items are transported
by the ship there is no obligation to co-operate or to consent to an
inspection.

C. Policing on the Basis of the Proliferation Security

Initiative and Special Treaty Regimes

The Proliferation Security Initiative first announced by President Bush

in 2003 is a system which allows for inspection in a streamlined proce-
dure. More than 90 States have agreed to apply the principles laid down
by the initiative, in particular the so-called interdiction principles.9 By
these principles a coordinated and effective basis to impede and stop
shipments of weapons of mass destruction, delivery systems and related
material flowing to and from States and non-State actors of prolifera-
tion concern should be reached. States agree to adopt a procedure for
the rapid exchange of relevant information concerning suspected
activities. The States agree to take action to board and search any vessel

8
See J.A. Frowein, Unilateral interpretation of Security Council Resolutions–
A threat to collective security?, in: J.A. Frowein, Völkerrecht–Menschenrechte–
Verfassungsfragen Deutschlands und Europas, 147 (2004).
9
 Adopted on 4 September 2003 in Paris (note 7), at 182.
1152 jochen abr. frowein

flying their flag but the Initiative also makes it possible to search vessels
flying the flags of other countries. According to the initiative States will
“seriously consider providing consent under the appropriate circum-
stances to the boarding and searching of their own flag vessels by other
States if the ship is reasonably suspected of transporting prohibited
weapons”. The initiative is no treaty under international law but it is
difficult to see how States can just reject requests for boarding and
inspection without proper reason.
The United States has concluded agreements with several countries
some of them with important commercial fleets which will facilitate
inspections. Of particular importance is the system laid down in these
treaties according to which a vessel may be boarded if there is no
response from the competent authority of the flag State within two
hours of its acknowledgement of the request. If no contact can be estab-
lished the competent authority of the requesting party may neverthe-
less proceed to board the suspect vessel for the purpose of inspecting
the vessels’ documents in order to verify the said vessels’ nationality.
The requesting party will be deemed to have been authorized by the
requested party to question persons on board and to search the vessel
to determine if it is engaged in proliferation by sea. On the basis of the
agreements the authorization to board, search and detain include the
authority to use force on the basis of the agreements.10
Although Germany has not concluded a treaty of that nature with
the United States it is quite telling that Germany did not protest the
boarding of the Hansa India, flying the German flag, which transported
arms from Iran with the final destination of Hezbollah in Lebanon,
clearly in violation of Security Council resolutions. The US-Navy hav-
ing full and accurate information about the cargo of the vessel inter-
cepted the Hansa India in the Red Sea. The US informed Germany
through a message to the German Embassy in Washington and after
that through the US Embassy in Berlin about the intention to stop the
German ship by action of the US-Navy and investigate its cargo. It was
indicated that there was a timeframe of a few hours to get the permis-
sion for boarding. The German authorities could not coordinate their
action and formally permit boarding. The boarding by the US-Navy
took place and Germany did not express any protest. In fact, the proce-
dure was clearly in line with the Proliferation Security Initiative which

10
See note 7, at 183–186.
 policing the oceans–new issues1153

had been agreed by Germany. Under these circumstances a formal pro-

test would have been a venire contra factum proprium. Therefore, it is of
great importance that Germany did not protest the boarding. The prec-
edent may be quite relevant for the future.

D. The Smuggling of Migrants by Sea and

the Operation of Frontex

On 15 November 2000 the Protocol against the Smuggling of Migrants

by Land, Sea and Air, supplementing the United Nations Convention
against Transnational Organized Crime was adopted as a protocol to
the Convention just mentioned. The protocol came into force on 28
January 2004. It has now been ratified by 126 states. This protocol con-
tains the same rules as the Drug Convention concerning interception.
A State party that has reasonable grounds to suspect that a vessel flying
a foreign flag is engaged in the smuggling of migrants may request the
assistance of the flag State for action to board the vessel, to search the
vessel and take appropriate measures with respect to the vessel and
persons and cargo on board, as authorized by the flag State. Art. 8
which contains this rule adds a special provision that a State party shall
respond expeditiously to a request from another State party to deter-
mine whether a vessel is claiming its registry or flying its flag and to a
request for authorization made in accordance with this article.
The most elaborate system concerning the smuggling of migrants
has been adopted by the European Union. By Council decision of 26
April 2010 (L.111/21) the Council adopted a system for surveillance
operations at sea. These operations are being conducted by the
European Agency for the Management of Operational Cooperation at
the external boarders of the Member States of the European Union
(Frontex). The annex to this decision contains rules for seaborder oper-
ations coordinated by the Agency.11 These rules concern interception of
ships. The measures to be taken include stopping, boarding and search-
ing the ship, its cargo and persons on board, questioning persons on
board, seizing the ship and apprehending persons on board, ordering
the ship to modify course, escorting the vessel, conducting the ship or
persons to a third country or otherwise handing over the ship or per-
sons to the authorities of a third country. Where the ship flies a flag of

11
L111/23–36.
1154 jochen abr. frowein

a third country authorization shall be requested from that country in

accordance with the Palermo Protocol against the Smuggling of
Migrants to take the measures just mentioned. In the absence of
authorization of the flag State the ship shall be surveyed at a prudent
distance. No other measures shall be taken except those necessary to
relieve imminent danger to the lives of persons.
Part II of the annex contains guidelines for search and rescue situa-
tions and for disembarkation in the context of seaborder operations
coordinated by the Agency. It is underlined that the obligation to ren-
der assistance to persons in distress at sea shall be carried out in accord-
ance with the applicable provisions of international conventions and in
accordance with requirements concerning respect for fundamental
rights. When facing a situation in which uncertainty or apprehension
exists as to the safety of a ship or of any person on board the participat-
ing unit should forward as soon as possible all available information to
the Rescue Coordination Center. While awaiting instructions the par-
ticipating unit should take all appropriate measures to ensure the safety
of the persons concerned. It is then explained what matters should be
taken into account to find out whether action is necessary. This includes
the existence of a request for assistance, the seaworthiness of the ship,
the number of passengers and the danger of overloading, the availabil-
ity of necessary supplies, the presence of qualified crew, the presence of
passengers in urgent need of medical assistance. The existence of an
emergency should not be exclusively dependent on or determined by
an actual request for assistance. This means that the Frontex Units may
decide for themselves whether an emergency exists. It is then added “In
cases where, despite a ship being perceived to be in a state of emer-
gency, the persons on board refuse to accept assistance, the participat-
ing unit should inform the Rescue Coordination Center and continue
to fulfil a duty of care, taking any measure necessary to the safety of the
persons concerned, while avoiding taking any action that might aggra-
vate the situation or increase the chances of injury or loss of live.”12
There is also a regulation for the situation where a ship is without
nationality. This seems to be the case in many instances where small
boats are being used which are not registered and have no right to fly a
flag. Here boarding and arresting persons is immediately possible.13 In
the context of these rules of the European Union a bilateral protocol

12
Id., at 25.
13
Id., at 24, para. 2.5.2.3.
 policing the oceans–new issues1155

between Italy and Libya is important, concluded on 29 December

2007.14 According to this protocol joint action by Italy and Libya is
being taken. Italy has deployed six naval units for combined operations
by personnel from Libya and from the Italian police. These units shall
exercise operations of control, search and rescue in international waters
as well as in Libyan territorial waters. The protocol contains a reference
to the European Union System. It seems that financing has been agreed
by the European Union.
The danger existing in particular where ships carrying a high num-
ber of persons are ordered to change course by a naval vessel which
may be very nearby is well shown by the case decided by the European
Court of Human Rights Xhavara and 15 others against Italy and
Albania.15 In this case a ship coming from Albania was stopped by an
Italian naval vessel which for unknown reasons got into direct contact
with the Albanian ship which had the consequence that this ship sunk.
58 persons died. The commander of the Italian naval vessel was charged
but not convicted. Italy paid a high amount of Lire to settle the matter.
The European Court of Human Rights had to declare the case inadmis-
sible for nonexhaustion of domestic remedies. However, the case shows
how dangerous interception of ships or boats which are hardly seawor-
thy can be.
This is one of the many dangers migrants are facing who try to reach
Europe through illegal channels.16

E. Conclusion

Policing the oceans in a period of growing dangers from terrorism,

proliferation of weapons of mass destruction and other illegal cargo
seems highly necessary. It is clear that the communication and infor-
mation systems on which such policing should be based are not avail-
able for all States. It is certainly no accident that the US Navy has
stopped the German Hansa India. In a similar situation the Israeli Navy
has intercepted the Francop, flying the flag of Antigua and Barbuda but

14
Gazetta Ufficiale della Repubblica Italiana Nr. 40 (18.02.2009).
15
ECHR, Xhavara and 15 others against Italy and Albania, Judgment of 11 January
2001, Appl.No. 39473/98.
16
See Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, 29 December 2010, at 30: “Auf der
Sklavenroute durch die Wüste”.
1156 jochen abr. frowein

owned by a German company.17 The jurisdiction of the flag State is an

age-old principle of international law. It should, however, not be the
basis for increasing the dangers just mentioned. Therefore, States
should be willing to agree to inspection where reasonable grounds exist
as shown in the cases mentioned and laid down in the different rules
discussed above.
It seems quite doubtful whether the European Court of Human
Rights was correct to find a violation in the case of Medvedyev and oth-
ers v. France in the judgment of 29 March 2010. The Court saw a viola-
tion because no clear basis for deprivation of liberty existed. However,
as soon as international law permits the interception of a ship and its
inspection in a port to which this ship is being brought, it would seem
that there is a sufficient basis for the resulting interference with the
right to personal liberty of the crew of the intercepted ship. The minor-
ity view in the Grand Chamber Judgment relied on the international
legal agreement between France and Cambodia for finding a basis for
the deprivation of liberty under Art. 5 of the Convention. This seems to
be correct. The argument by the majority that this deprivation was not
foreseeable seems misplaced. Where it is clear that prohibited items are
being transported by a ship the risk of interception must be seen as
clearly foreseeable. It does not seem appropriate to create additional
difficulties for the important task of policing the oceans by an improper
construction of Art. 5 of the European Convention on Human Rights.

17
Frowein (note 7), at 180.
 Maritime Security
(Case of Piracy)

Vladimir Golitsyn

A. Introduction

Maritime security is a very broad issue encompassing many aspects.

One of the problems of maritime security is piracy and the world
community is currently faced with some serious legal challenges in
combating piracy.
Piracy is not a new phenomenon. It has existed since time immemo-
rial. References to piracy can be found in both Homer’s poems,
“The Iliad” and “The Odyssey” (7 or 8 century B.C.). The term “pirate”
appears to date from 140 B.C., and is attributed to the Roman histo-
rian Polybius who used the term “peirato” (in Latin ‘pirato’ means
‘to attempt’). According to the existing literature, early references
to piracy can be found in Justinian’s Digest in 529 AD and in King
John’s Ordinance of 1201.1 Pirates historically had different names.
During the 17th century in West India they were called “buccaneers”
(‘bucaniers’), to the Dutch they were “vrijbuiters” (‘freebooters’) and
the Spaniards called them “picaroons” (‘rogues’).2
Historically there has been disagreement as to whether or not “pri-
vateers” and “corsairs” (from Latin ‘corsa’ meaning raid), individuals
granted a “letter of marquee” authorizing them to capture enemy mer-
chant ships should be treated as pirates.3 The Maltese coursairs, for
example, operated under a letter issued by the Knights of St. John;
famous Sir Francis Drake operated in the second part of the 16th cen-
tury as an English privateer; and the US Constitution in Article I,
Section 8, empowered the US Congress to “grant letters of marquee and
reprisal”.4 The use of “letters of marquee” was finally outlawed by the

1
Z. Keyuan, New Development in the International Law of Piracy, at 323 (2009).
2
R.M. Jarvis, Maritime Piracy in the Modern World, 6 Insights on Law and Society
1, at 2 (2006).
3
A. Morita, Piracy Jure Gentium Revisited–For Japan’s Future Contribution,
51 Japanese Yearbook of International Law 76, at 93 (2008).
4
Jarvis (note 2), at 2.
1158 vladimir golitsyn

Declaration Respecting Maritime Law adopted in 1856 at a conference

in Paris at the suggestion of the Russian Tsar Alexander II.5 This act,
however, did not put an end to a debate on the legal status of privateers
and corsairs prior to the adoption of the Declaration.6
It is assumed that one of the first definitions of piracy and pirates was
provided by the Greek historian Plutarch in 100 A.D. when he defined
them as “those who attack from ship without legal authority”. The
Roman Statesman, Cicero, although it is sometimes contested, is cred-
ited as being the first who declared pirates “hostis humani generis” or
enemies of humanity.7 This concept was further developed by the Italian
jurist, Alberico Gentili, who taught at the University of Oxford. He
argued that only princes had power to resort to war, that laws of war
could not apply to pirates and that their actions were forbidden by
international law. In his view, any taking of foreign life or property at sea
not authorized by a sovereign was synonymous with robbery on land.8
It follows from the above that in accordance with the developing
customary international law pirates were viewed as enemies of human-
ity. As pirates waged war against not just one state but all states, they
were considered to be subject to universal jurisdiction by any state.9
One of the main weaknesses of the customary international law on
piracy was the lack of an authoritative definition of the term “piracy”.
Various scholars defined the term in different ways. In documents of
the Harvard Research Project, which was launched in 1932 with a view
to codifying the customary regime on piracy and elaborate ‘Draft
Convention on Piracy’, it was commented that
“An investigation finds that instead of a single relatively simple prob-
lem, there are a series of difficult problems which have occasioned a
great diversity of professional opinion. In studying the content of the
(definition) article, it is useful to bear in mind the chaos of expert opin-
ion as to what the law of nations includes, or should include, in piracy.
There is no authoritative definition. Of the many definitions that have
been proposed, most are inaccurate, both as to what they literally

5
Id., at 8.
6
Dr. L. Azubuike, International Law Regime against Piracy, 15th Annual Survey,
15 International and Comparative Law 43, at 46 (2009).
7
I. Shearer, Piracy, Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law,
para. 6 (2009).
8
H. Tuerk, The Resurgence of Piracy: A Phenomenon of Modern Times,
17 University of Miami International and Comparative Law Review 1, at 5 (2009).
9
Azubuike (note 6), at 44.
 maritime security (case of piracy)1159

include and as to what they omit. Some are impromptu, rough descrip-
tions of atypical piracy.”10
The golden years of piracy, namely the second part of 17th century
and the 18th century, during which pirates like Blackbeard, Captain
Henry Morgan and others roamed the oceans, gradually came, if not
completely, to an end, at least to a level which was no longer a matter of
serious concern to states. It was stated by one commentator in 1964
that “the end of piracy, after centuries, was brought about by public
feeling, backed up by the steam engine and telegraph”.11 Although
piracy has never disappeared, it appears that until relatively recently it
had not been considered a significant threat to international naviga-
tion, and therefore a major problem in maritime security. This may
explain why, during the first decades of the twentieth century, initial
attempts to introduce a treaty regime against piracy were unsuccessful.
Member States of the League of Nations did not consider piracy to be a
matter requiring priority attention and the Draft Convention on Piracy
presented by the Harvard Research Project was not even officially
considered.

B. The Present Day Situation

The illusion that piracy had been eradicated or, at least, reduced to a
level where it no longer presented a serious threat to maritime naviga-
tion was shattered towards the end of the last century when by the end
of the 1980s piracy resurged once again. According to the Annual
Report for 2009 prepared by the International Maritime Organization
(IMO), the number of acts of piracy and armed robbery against ships
which were reported to the Organization to have occurred or to have
been attempted in 2009 was 406, an increase of 106 (24.6%) over the
figure for 2008. The total number of incidents of piracy and armed rob-
bery against ships which have been reported to the Organization since
statistics were first compiled in 1984 has risen to 5,227.
According to the International Maritime Bureau (IMB), a special-
ized division of the International Chamber of Commerce (ICC), a total

10
Azubuike (note 6), at 48.
11
Id., at 44; P. Gosse, Pirates and Piracy, 17 Encyclopedia Britannica 951, at 952
(1964) in: S. Pyeatt Menefee, Anti-Piracy Law in the Year of the Ocean: Problems and
Opportunity, 5 ILSA Journal of International and Comparative Law 309, at 318 (1999).
1160 vladimir golitsyn

of 306 incidents were reported to its Piracy Reporting Centre (PRC) in

the first nine months of 2009, while in 2008 the total number of attacks
for the year was 293. It should be noted in this regard that in 2008 mari-
time piracy reached its highest level since the PRC began tracking
piracy in incidents in 1992 following its establishment. For reasons
which will be explained later, some of these incidents are qualified as
piracy and others as armed robbery against ships under current inter-
national law.
Although pirate and armed robber attacks occur in four major geo-
graphical areas, namely the Gulf of Aden and off the coast of Somalia,
the Gulf of Guinea, near Nigeria, the Malacca Strait and the waters
between India and Sri Lanka, the waters off the coast of Somalia and
the Gulf of Aden remain the main piracy hotspots. By 2008, pirates in
Somalia had mastered very sophisticated skills to operate routinely
over 200 nautical miles from shore, and began to represent an impor-
tant shift in maritime piracy and armed robbery from Asia to Africa.
Among the recent developments which have demonstrated this trend
was the hijacking on 15 of October 2009 of the Singapore-flagged ves-
sel MV Kota Wajar in the Indian Ocean about 350 nautical miles north
of the Seychelles and the hijacking on 22 of October 2009 of the Indian-
managed, Panamanian-flagged vessel MV Al Khaliq about 180 nautical
miles west of the Seychelles.
In summary, piracy in our days threatens crews, property and ships,
imperils critical sea lines of communication and the free flow of com-
merce, erodes regional stability and undermines political and social
development, in particular in Africa. The International Maritime
Bureau estimates that maritime piracy costs transport vessels between
US$13 and US$15 billion a year in losses in the waters between the
Pacific and Indian Oceans alone. Earlier economic estimates had placed
the annual global figure at approximately US$16 billion12 with costs
stemming not only from stolen cargo and goods, and, in some cases,
from the theft of the ship itself, but also from delays in port while the
attack is reported and investigated, and from increased insurance rates
as well. It is also worrying that the vast majority of pirate attacks against
energy vessels takes place against oil tankers, threatening global energy
markets.13

12
M.H. Passman, Protections Afforded to Captured Pirates Under the Law of Was
and International Law, 133 Tulane Maritime Journal 1, at 5 (2008).
13
Id., at 6.
 maritime security (case of piracy)1161

In light of the foregoing the question arises whether the current

international regulatory regime is adequate and the existing rules for
the suppression of piracy provide the international community with
sufficient means to fight the resurgence of piracy. Prior to addressing
this question it is important to emphasize that legal means alone can-
not cure the disease of piracy, and unless and until the main roots of
this problem are eradicated, piracy will continue to exist and will be a
threat to maritime security.
A return to lawlessness at sea in the form of piracy and armed rob-
bery against ships is attributed to various factors. They range from the
weakness or absence of effective government and the collapse of a
national economy, to the inability of some governments properly to
police and maintain security in waters under their jurisdiction, to the
poverty of the coastal population, the desire for financial gain and cor-
rupt local officials, and to the deficiencies of or lacunae in the legal
regulations or weak enforcement of such regulations.14

C. The Legal Regime

The rules of international law governing activities for the suppression

of piracy were first codified and progressively developed in articles 14
to 22 of the 1958 Geneva Convention on the High Seas, prepared by the
International Law Commission, and were subsequently repeated
almost word for word in articles 100 to 107 and 110 of the 1982 United
Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS). In practice, all
maritime States, including the United States and Venezuela, are cur-
rently bound by one of these Conventions; their provisions on piracy
constitute international law as currently in force.15 Pursuant to article
101 of UNCLOS, which reiterates article 15 of the Geneva Convention,
piracy is defined as follows:
(a) any illegal acts of violence or detention, or any act of depredation,
committed for private ends by the crew or the passengers of a private
ship or a private aircraft, and directed:

14
J.L. Jesus, Protection of Foreign Ships against Piracy and Terrorism at Sea: Legal
Aspects, 18 International Journal of Maritime and Coastal Law 363, at 365; Tuerk (note
8), at 3 et seq.
15
It is also worthy of note that although the United States has not ratified UNCLOS,
President Bush cited it with approval when he defined “piracy” in a memorandum on
“Maritime Security (Piracy) Policy”: Passman (note 12), at 15.
1162 vladimir golitsyn

    (i) on the high seas, against another ship or aircraft, or against per-
sons or property on board such ship or aircraft;
  (ii) against a ship, aircraft, persons or property in a place outside
the jurisdiction of any State;
(b) any act of voluntary participation in the operation of a ship or of an
aircraft with knowledge of facts making it a pirate ship or aircraft;
(c) any act of inciting or of intentionally facilitating an act described in
subparagraph (a) or (b).
Although the definition of piracy includes only action on the high seas,
by virtue of article 58 (2) of UNCLOS it also applies to the exclusive
economic zone, as that article states that “articles 88 to 115 and other
pertinent rules of international law apply to the exclusive economic
zone in so far as they are not incompatible with this Part” (Part V
“Exclusive Economic Zone”), which encompasses articles relating to
piracy.
The inclusion of a reference to aircraft and the extension of the
application of the definition of piracy to acts of violence from one air-
craft to another on the high seas constituted progressive development
of international law as the definition in this respect went beyond earlier
customary law.16 Another provision of the definition which is worth
mentioning is the one which provides that acts committed against a
ship, aircraft, persons or property in a place outside the jurisdiction of
any State also fall into the category of piracy. The origin of this provi-
sion is article 3 of the already mentioned Harvard Draft Convention on
Piracy. According to the commentary to the Harvard Draft, this provi-
sion relates to acts committed in a place or on an island “inappropri-
ated by a civilized Power”.17

D. Some Legal Questions/Issues

It is claimed that the definition of piracy is too narrow18 and that this
constitutes one of the major deficiencies of the international legal
regime concerning the suppression of piracy. Reference is made in
this regard to the fact that only those acts which have been committed
illegally for “private ends”, “on the high seas” and by the crew or
passengers of “a private ship against another ship” or against people or

16
Shearer (note 7), para. 15.
17
Jesus (note 14), at 377.
18
Morita (note 3), at 80.
 maritime security (case of piracy)1163

property on board such ship are considered acts of piracy. The Institut
de Droit International acknowledged in its Naples Declaration on
Piracy adopted on 10 September 2009 that “the existing international
law on piracy, as reflected in the 1982 United Nations Convention on
the Law of the Sea, which is restricted to proscribing acts of violence
committed for private ends on the high seas and undertaken by one
ship against another, does not fully cover all acts of violence endanger-
ing the safety of international navigation”.19
Although the definition of piracy at first appears rather restrictive,
it may be argued that there are good reasons for it to be so. Such a defi-
nition is open to interpretation based on the practice of states relating
to its application and it allows for the widening of its scope.

1. Universal Jurisdiction
As a starting point it should be emphasized that, as noted above, in the
case of piracy we are dealing with one of the few cases in international
law of the application of the principle of universal criminal jurisdiction
as stipulated in article 105 of UNCLOS. This article provides that on
the high seas, or in any other place outside the jurisdiction of any State,
every State may seize a pirate ship or aircraft, or a ship or aircraft taken
by piracy and under the control of pirates, and arrest the people and
seize the property on board.20 The universal nature of the principle of
criminal jurisdiction in the case of piracy is also reaffirmed in article
110 (1) (a) of UNCLOS which generally prohibits all acts of interfer-
ence on the high seas save for certain exceptions, one of which is where
there is reasonable ground for suspecting that the ship is engaged in
piracy. However, according to article 107 of UNCLOS a seizure on
account of piracy or boarding a vessel pursuant to article 110 (1) (a)
may be carried out only by warships or military aircraft, or other ships
or aircraft clearly marked and identifiable as being on government ser-
vice and authorized to that effect.
Such broad powers, which are an exception to the general principle
of flag state jurisdiction on the high seas, cannot be without strict ­limits.
Not all acts of violence on the high sea could be qualified as piracy.

19
Institut de Droit International, Naples Declaration on Piracy, 10 September 2009,
Session de Naples–2009, 73 Annuaire de l’Institut de droit international, 584 (2009).
20
 T. Treves, Piracy, Law of the Sea, and Use of Force: Developments off the coast of
Somalia, 20th Anniversary Volume European Journal of International Law 399, at
401–402 (2009).
1164 vladimir golitsyn

For example, the 1988 Convention for the Suppression of Unlawful

Acts against Safety of Maritime Navigation (SUA) states in article 3
that:
“Any person commits an offence if that person unlawfully and
intentionally:
(a) seizes or exercises control over a ship by force or threat thereof or any
other form of intimidation; or
(b) performs an act of violence against a person on board a ship if that act
is likely to endanger the safe navigation of that ship.”
Article 3 of the SUA Convention in some respect provides a broader
framework for the concept than the definition of piracy contained in
UNCLOS, although it includes certain acts which might be considered
acts of piracy. However, there is no universal jurisdiction in the appli-
cation of the provisions of the SUA Convention. Their enforcement
is entirely in the hands of Flag States. It is obvious that States are not
prepared to extend universal jurisdiction to all acts of violence on the
high sea.21

2. Piracy vs. Armed Robbery

A significant number of acts of violence at sea which theoretically
meet criteria established by the definition of piracy takes place in the
territorial waters of coastal states, and therefore cannot be defined as
piracy. Therefore it was quite logical that the International Maritime
Organization in its 2001 Code of Practice for the Investigation of the
Crimes of Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships should draw a
clear distinction between these two categories of acts. “Piracy” is
defined in the Code as meaning unlawful acts as set out in article 101
of UNCLOS, while “armed robbery” is defined as “any unlawful act of
violence or detention or any act of depredation, or threat thereof,
other that an act of ‘piracy’, directed against a ship or against persons
or property on board such a ship within a State’s jurisdiction over
such offences”.22 It follows from the above that universal jurisdiction
is not applicable to acts confined to ocean areas within a state’s territo-
rial jurisdiction, which are considered “armed robbery”, and that the

21
H. Tuerk, Combating Terrorism at Sea–The Suppression of Unlawful Acts
against the Safety of Maritime Navigation, 15 University of Miami International and
Comparative Law Review 337, at 347–353 (2007–2008).
22
IMO Res. A.545 (13) of 17 November 1983.
 maritime security (case of piracy)1165

suppression of such acts is the responsibility of the coastal states in the

waters of which such acts take place.23
It appears that the above distinction between piracy and armed rob-
bery is generally accepted by states and private entities, including
insurance companies. It is worthy of note that the above distinction is
also used by the International Maritime Bureau and that it is incorpo-
rated in the 2004 Regional Cooperation Agreement on Combating
Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships in Asia, which entered into
force in 2006, and the 2009 Code of Conduct concerning the Repression
of Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships in the Western Indian
Ocean and the Gulf of Aden.24
Consequently, a clear distinction should be drawn between situa-
tions where the world community of states is prepared to accept uni-
versal jurisdiction, as in the case of piracy in areas outside territorial
waters, and other circumstances in which states are reluctant to do so.
Thus, the fact that articles of UNCLOS on piracy apply only in areas
outside territorial waters cannot be considered a deficiency of the defi-
nition of piracy because attacks against vessels in territorial waters or
port will be considered armed robbery and the necessary criminal
action will be taken in accordance with the criminal law of the coastal
state concerned.

3. Different Regimes for Different Crime Scenes

The question arises what happens if an illegal act of violence or deten-
tion against a ship is committed in territorial waters and subsequently
a hijacked ship leaves territorial waters without being pursuit by war-
ships of the coastal state? Strictly legally speaking, UNCLOS provides
in article 101 (a) (i) that an unlawful act should be considered piracy if
it occurs on the high seas. However, it would be contrary to common
sense to assume that only the coastal state concerned will have jurisdic-
tion to seize such ship on the high seas and that, if that does not hap-
pen, no other state, apart from the flag state, can intervene to seize it
because the original detention of the ship cannot be recognized as an
act of piracy. Based on the developing practice including the Arctic Sea
incident, it may be assumed that if an unlawful act against a ship,

23
D. Guilfoyle, Piracy off Somalia: UN Security Council Resolution 1816 and IMO
Regional Counter-Piracy Efforts, 57 International and Comparative Law Quarterly
690, at 694 (2008).
24
 Tuerk (note 21), at 19–20; Id., at 698.
1166 vladimir golitsyn

including its detention takes place in territorial waters, and after leav-
ing those waters the detained ship is not pursued on the high seas by
warships of the coastal state concerned, that ship can be considered a
pirate ship and that any state will have universal criminal jurisdiction
to seize the pirate ship under UNCLOS.
For example the illegal acts of violence against the Arctic Sea and her
crew, according to media reports, presumably took place in the territo-
rial waters of Sweden. The ship then left those waters and was seized by
a Russian warship in the Atlantic Ocean. Thus, the Arctic Sea was at the
time of her seizure far from Swedish territorial waters and quite a sig-
nificant time had elapsed since her detention by pirates. The detention
of the Arctic Sea was qualified by the Russian authorities under
UNCLOS as an act of piracy, and on 20 August 2009 a court order
regarding seizure of the ship was issued by the competent Russian
court pursuant to article 227 of the Russian Criminal Code on piracy.
It appears that all states concerned acquiesced in the fact that this inci-
dent constituted an act of piracy and should be governed by the rele-
vant provisions of UNCLOS. According to media reports, the Russian
authorities and Malta, the flag state, were in contact on the matter.
For the reasons just explained, it may be concluded that the evolving
international law, based on developing state practice, allows any state,
with the implicit consent of the flag state, to seize on the high seas a
private ship if there is clear evidence that this ship was forcefully
detained in the territorial waters of one of the coastal states and to con-
sider it a pirate ship under UNCLOS. The flag state of the vessel in
question should be informed about such action.
This view is not shared by some commentators who still believe
that, as absurd as it is, under the existing regime no state, other than
the relevant coastal state, may use legal means to seize such a ship
on the high seas because it lacks jurisdiction to take the necessary
action against a foreign-flagged ship unless authorized by the coastal
state in the territorial waters of which the act took place. This is the case
no matter what the gravity of the offence committed by a vessel in the
territorial waters may be, even if it involves the killing of crew members
or passengers. In other words, in their view, whether and to what extent
such an act will or will not be prosecuted totally depends on the coastal
state.25

25
Jesus (note 14), at 379.
 maritime security (case of piracy)1167

The situation is quite different when a pirate ship enters the territo-
rial waters of a coastal State from its economic zone or the high seas.
Under UNCLOS, pirates can be pursued from the high seas, but the
right of hot pursuit ends once they enter the territorial waters of any
State. Critics challenge this view by stating that this limitation under-
mines the efficacy of the international regime against piracy, especially
in a situation where the coastal State is unable or unwilling to prevent
acts of piracy. Some commentators argue in this regard that if the act of
piracy has been committed on the high seas and the pirate has sought
shelter in foreign coastal waters, in general, the coastal State concerned
has to give its consent to the hot pursuit of such pirate vessel and that
such consent may be presumed, given the obligation of the coastal State
concerned to cooperate in the suppression of piracy.26 Others suggest
that the principle of hot pursuit could extend to the territorial waters of
a “so-called failed State”, namely a State which has failed or really can-
not assert its right to the inviolability of its territorial waters.27
In order to remedy this situation proposals have been made to
extend the regime of piracy to territorial waters in a way which would,
at the same time, totally preserve respect for the coastal state’s sover-
eignty over its territorial waters. In this regard it was suggested that
such an extension can be achieved, for example by way of an agreement
entered into by states at global or regional level based on article 311 (3)
of UNCLOS, recognizing the right to apply the piracy provisions of
UNCLOS, as well as the hot pursuit provisions in the relevant territo-
rial waters, on the basis of reciprocity.28
I do not share these views. First, a provision which would require a
state encountering a pirate ship or aircraft in the territorial waters of
another State to notify the coastal State and cooperate with it in taking
appropriate measures was not accepted at the Third United Nations
Conference on the Law of the Sea. Second, it was quite obvious from
the negotiation of the Security Council resolutions which broadened
the scope of the international rules on piracy in the case of Somalia
(resolutions: 1816 of 2 June 2008, 1846 of 2 December 2008 and 1851
of 18 December 2008) that the overwhelming majority of coastal states

26
R. Wolfrum, Fighting Terrorism at Sea: Options and Limitations under Inter­
national Law, in: R. Long/J.N. Moore/M.H. Nordquist/R. Wolfrum (eds.), Legal
Challenges in Maritime Security, 1, at 6 (2008).
27
Azubuike (note 6), at 52.
28
Jesus (note 14), at 382–383.
1168 vladimir golitsyn

would take a very negative view of any attempt to allow any state
to exercise some form of enforcement action in its territorial waters
even for the sake of the fight against piracy.29 These resolutions were
adopted as an exceptional measure due to the fact that the situation in
Somalia, not piracy, constituted a threat to international peace and
security.30
As noted by some commentators, these resolutions are limited in
time; apply only with respect to the situation in Somalia, which implies
that the authorization to enter the territorial sea does not apply to the
territorial seas of other countries; do not have the practical effect of
denying or impairing the right of innocent passage of the ships of third
states; and, which is most important, are not to be considered as estab-
lishing customary international law.31 Finally, it is difficult to imagine
how the proposed reciprocity would work between developed and
developing countries.
A better and probably the only correct solution to this problem
would be to address the fundamental, underlying cause of a State’s ina-
bility to punish pirates taking refuge in its territory. Only by strength-
ening the capacity of developing coastal states through regional or
global cooperation can one achieve substantial progress in eradicating
piracy and in ensuring the safety of navigation in territorial waters.
Indeed, the authors of the Naples Declaration, issued by the Institut de
Droit International, noted the lack of capacity of some coastal states to
comply with their responsibility to ensure the safety of navigation in
the territorial sea and to take effective steps within their territory,
including territorial waters, to prevent acts of piracy and other acts of
violence at sea and activities connected with such acts. In this connec-
tion the Naples Declaration calls upon states inter alia to adopt coop-
erative arrangements to deal with piracy and other acts of violence at
sea and to assist coastal states which lack the capacity to fight piracy
and other acts of violence at sea.
Some commentators also suggest that in situations where no co-
operative arrangements exist between a coastal state and other states,

29
Indonesia, for example, had previously rejected any suggestion that other States
might conduct counter-piracy operations within those parts of the Malacca Straits fall-
ing within its territorial waters. South Africa similarly stressed that “it was the situation
in Somalia [giving rise to piracy] that constituted a threat to international peace and
security, and not piracy in itself ”. See Guilfoyle (note 23), at 697.
30
Id., at 695.
31
 Treves (note 20), at 404–405; Tuerk (note 21), at 30–31.
 maritime security (case of piracy)1169

resort might be had to so-called ‘assistance entry’ by a ship or aircraft

of one State which witnesses a piratical attack occurring in the territo-
rial seas of another. It is argued that the notion of ‘assistance entry’ rests
on the common sense view that a reasonable coastal State would
raise no objection to any action urgently required to save lives, and
would not consider it as an activity prohibited in the territorial sea by
article 19, paragraph 2, of UNCLOS. It is argued that a warship
witnessing an attack against a merchant ship in the coastal waters of
another State carried out by a private ship may intervene under its obli-
gation to render assistance to people in distress. Although the relevant
provision of article 98 of UNCLOS is intended to cover distress as the
consequence of a natural disaster or of a collision at sea, it reflects
the existence of a general obligation to safeguard human life at sea, and
in this respect it is applicable here. This possibility is a limited one,
though. It does not in general embrace the mandate to suppress piracy
in a particular area.32 This view would also apply a fortiori in the case of
a ‘failed State’ where there is no effective government in power capable
of policing its territorial waters.33
The above assumption is based on the interpretation of UNCLOS by
its authors and has not so far been supported by developing practice.
Therefore, for the reasons explained earlier, it is doubtful whether,
given the sensitivity of the matter, this interpretation of UNCLOS will
gain sufficient support. The overwhelming majority of states, as evi-
denced by the negotiations of UNCLOS and more recently by discus-
sions in the Security Council on the situation in Somali waters, are
reluctant to accept any possibility of enforcement action by third states
in their territorial waters without the express consent of the coastal
state concerned.

4. Definition of a Ship
Another provision of the UNCLOS definition of piracy, which is fre-
quently cited as one of its weaknesses but which is also evolving, relates
to the assumption that piracy includes only acts committed by one ship
or aircraft against another ship or aircraft. It is thought that the so-
called two-ship requirement emanates from the notion that a ship is
always under the jurisdiction of the flag state and that consequently

32
Wolfrum (note 26), at 4.
33
Shearer (note 7), para. 31.
1170 vladimir golitsyn

any act or offence committed on board a ship is subject to the domestic

laws of the flag state.34 In most of the current pirate cases attacks are
made from small motor, sometimes fishing, boats which could not be
qualified as ships. Therefore, the question arises whether illegal acts
committed by them against a ship could be qualified as piracy.
It appears that there is a developing practice of considering such
attacks, in particular violent activities against ships by pirate skiffs off
the coast of Somalia, as acts of piracy. The Arctic Sea incident provides
yet another example. The act of violence against her was committed by
a group of individuals who approached the ship in a small motor boat
which could hardly qualify as a ship. Nevertheless their action was
defined as an act of piracy under UNCLOS and under the Russian
Criminal Code.

5. Inspection
In exercising their universal jurisdiction in the case of piracy states are
required to act in good faith. Thus, pursuant to article 110 of UNCLOS
a warship which encounters a foreign ship on the high seas and has
reasonable grounds for suspecting that the ship is engaged in piracy
can inspect that ship, including by boarding her. However, if the suspi-
cions prove to be unfounded, and provided that the ship boarded has
not committed any act justifying them, she shall be compensated for
any loss or damage she may have sustained. Article 105 of UNCLOS
states that the courts of the State which carried out the seizure may
decide upon the penalties to be imposed, and may also determine the
action to be taken with regard to the ships, aircraft or property subject
to the rights of third parties acting in good faith. Moreover, article 106
of UNCLOS provides that where the seizure of a ship or aircraft on
suspicion of piracy has been affected without adequate grounds, the
State making the seizure shall be liable to the State the nationality of
which is possessed by the ship or aircraft for any loss or damage caused
by the seizure.
The reference in UNCLOS to the rights of third parties has a broad
meaning. For example, before the seized vessel is released by a court
decision or otherwise, the question may arise whether it is safe to set
sail. If we look once again at the Arctic Sea incident, it was reported by

 Treves (note 20), at 400.

34
 maritime security (case of piracy)1171

the Russian Ministry for Foreign Affairs that following the completion
of the investigative actions the Russian authorities did not consider it
necessary further to detain the vessel and accordingly were ready to
take all the necessary steps for the return of the freighter to her owner
so that she could complete the commercial voyage under the existing
contract for cargo carriage by sea. However, as a result of the violent
piratical actions by the people who unlawfully seized the ship in the
Baltic Sea the freighter suffered material damage–in particular, some of
the instruments relating to navigational equipment were put out of
order. Consequently, in order to continue her voyage the ship needed
repairs and navigability certification from the flag state, Malta. The
situation was complicated by the fact that the Finish company ‘Solchart’,
which was responsible for the administrative management of the Arctic
Sea, was declared bankruptcy. In the light of this development, on
29 October 2009, following the completion of the investigation and
other formalities, the Arctic Sea was transferred by the authorities of
the detaining State, the Russian Federation, to the custody of the
authorities of the flag State, Malta.

6. The Purpose Requirement

Another controversial requirement of the definition of piracy in
UNCLOS is that the act of piracy must be committed “for private ends”.
This requirement has historical roots. As noted above, states once
employed pirates and used them against enemy States. Consequently, it
is anchored in the very nature of piracy that pirates must not be acting
for any recognized State. UNCLOS does not define the expression “for
private ends”. However, most commentators hold the view that acts of
violence committed on religious or ethnic grounds or for political rea-
sons cannot be treated as piracy.35 It has been suggested that the ration-
ale for the expression “for private ends” is that it reflects the underlying
concern about interfering with commercial shipping and transporta-
tion and the reluctance of other States to assert jurisdiction over
politically motivated acts which do not have a commercial aspect.36
According to some of these commentators, acts of violence and depre-
dation exerted by environmental groups or people in connection with

35
Passman (note 12), at 12; Morita (note 3), at 85; Wolfrum (note 26), at 3.
36
Azubuike (note 6), at 53.
1172 vladimir golitsyn

their quest for enhanced protection of the marine environment37

presumably should also be excluded from piracy.38
However, there are some commentators who question whether the
words “for private ends” exclude all politically motivated violence.
They claim that these words simply denote that the violence involved is
not public and that these words were originally included to acknowl-
edge the historic exception for civil-war insurgencies which attacked
only the vessels of the government they sought to overthrow. In their
view all acts of violence lacking State sanction are acts undertaken “for
private ends” and therefore these words must be understood broadly.39
It is noted in this regard that at least one national court decision has
applied this approach. Reference is made to the Belgian Court of
Cassation which held in 1986 that a Greenpeace vessel had committed
piracy against an allegedly polluting Dutch vessel when it attacked it,
because the act of violence was ‘in support of a personal point of view’
and not political.40

7. The Use of Force to Counter Piracy

As warships of any state have the authority pursuant to articles 105 and
107 of UNCLOS to seize a pirate ship outside the jurisdiction of any
state, this presupposes that they can use force, if necessary, for this pur-
pose. UNCLOS does not specify when, how and to what extent such
force could be used. However, this matter is not left solely to the discre-
tion of individual states. It may be argued that international law
imposes certain limitations on the potential use of force by warships
against pirates by requiring that force is used only as the last resort, for
example in self-defence, and that it should be proportionate. Although
pirates are considered enemies of humanity and any state has univer-
sal jurisdiction to suppress them, pirates are not at war with any state

37
It is worth noting that some Somali pirates have claimed to be rising up against
outside encroachment on Somali marine resources. It is observed in connection with
this claim that “for ‘eco-piracy’, performing a public function in default of effective
government is certainly a principle of State responsibility. Simply because a State may
become responsible for such acts, however, does not mean that the actors involved
become cloaked with State immunity. Even if it could, many cases would simply not fit
the ‘eco-pirate’ claim: the first pirates to claim to be acting to deter foreign fishing held
to ransom the crew of a barge, not a fishing vessel”: Guilfoyle (note 23), at 699.
38
 Tuerk (note 21), at 10; Jesus (note 14), at 379.
39
Passman (note 12), at 19.
40
Guilfoyle (note 23), at 693; Passman (note 12), at 24; Shearer (note 7), para. 16;
Tuerk (note 21), at 10.
 maritime security (case of piracy)1173

and, therefore, actions against them by warships are not equivalent

to actions which may be taken by warships in armed conflicts.41 It has
been argued by some commentators in this regard that pirates, not
being combatants, are civilians who, under international humanitar-
ian law, may not be specifically targeted except in immediate self-
defence.42
Most commentators agree that force may be used by warships in
action against pirates independently of self-defence and that interna-
tional law prescribes limits to such use. It is argued that warships must
take measures of enforcement with a care similar to that employed by
the police in connection with any normal crime, because punishment
should come as a result of prosecution, not as a result of hostile
confrontation.43
It follows from the foregoing that limitations on the use of force
established by international law are also applicable to the suppression
of piracy. The International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea in its M/V
Saiga No. 2 judgment stated that “international law requires that the
use of force must be reasonable and necessary in the circumstances.
Considerations of humanity must apply in the law of the sea, as they do
in other areas of international law”.44

8. The Duty to Adopt National Legislation/The Duty to Prosecute

Indeed, one of the most controversial and debated questions is whether
the provisions of UNCLOS on piracy provide States only with a right to
suppress piracy or also with a duty to do so, and whether states should
be obliged to adopt and implement anti-piracy legislation.45
Article 15 of the Convention states that on the high seas every state
may (emphasis added) seize a pirate ship, which may be interpreted to
imply that it is at the discretion of a state to decide whether or not to
seize a pirate ship. In the case of Somalia there have recently been quite
a few incidents where a navy ship followed a pirate ship but never
seized it. There are some commentators who nevertheless are of the

41
Passman (note 12), at 4.
42
 Treves (note 20), at 412.
43
A. Blanco-Bazan, Legal Aspects of Piracy and Armed Robbery against Shipping,
European Commission, Presentation at the Seminar on Piracy and Armed Robbery
against Shipping, Brussels, 21 June 2001, at 3; Treves (note 20), at 413.
44
 Treves (note 20), at 414.
45
 Tuerk (note 21), at 16.
1174 vladimir golitsyn

view that the seizure of a pirate ship is a duty under UNCLOS. They
argue that pursuant to article 100 of the Convention States are under
an obligation to cooperate in the repression of piracy, and that read-
ing articles 100 and 105 of the Convention together it can be
assumed that States may not lightly decline to intervene against acts of
piracy.46
Strictly legally speaking, under article 105 of UNCLOS which
authorizes any state to seize a pirate ship on the high seas and arrest
pirates, the prosecution of pirates is also not a mandatory requirement.
That article states that the courts of states which carried out the seizure
may (emphases added) decide on the penalties to be imposed, and may
also determine the action to be taken. The use of the verb “may” leaves
it for the detaining State to decide whether or not to prosecute pirates.
The seizing States are frequently reluctant to exercise their powers by
prosecuting the pirates and submitting them to criminal proceedings
in their national courts.47 As noted by some commentators, this can
occur because they either do not have the necessary domestic legisla-
tion to do so or seem concerned by the potential expense involved, by
legal complexities relating for instance to evidence, inherent in crimi-
nal proceedings to be held far away from the place where the alleged
crime was committed, and perhaps especially, by the human rights
implications of exercising jurisdiction. It was reported, for example,
that the British Foreign Office warned the Royal Navy against detain-
ing pirates since this might violate their human rights and consequently
might lead to claims for asylum in Great Britain.48
The difficulties faced by the detaining State may be demonstrated
by the Arctic Sea incident. Out of eight people detained and charged
on 21 August 2009 by the Russian Court with the detention of a
ship and piracy, one is a national of Estonia, one of Latvia, two of
the Russian Federation, three have no nationality and there were diffi-
culties in determining the nationality of one person at the time of
the arrest.
The Institut de Droit International expressed concern in its Naples
Declaration on Piracy about the reluctance of States to exercise their
jurisdiction under UNCLOS to prosecute pirates and perpetrators of

46
Blanco-Bazan (note 43), at 2.
47
 Treves (note 20), at 408.
48
Id., at 409.
 maritime security (case of piracy)1175

other acts of violence at sea and about the lack of uniformity and some-
times the inadequacy of domestic policies and laws concerning pirates
and perpetrators of other acts of violence at sea when found within
their jurisdiction. The Security Council in its Resolution 1846 noted in
a preamble paragraph the “the lack of capacity, domestic legislation,
and clarity about how to dispose of pirates after their capture has hin-
dered more robust international action against the pirates off the coast
of Somalia and in some cases led to the pirates being released without
facing justice”.
It appears that the world community is here facing a lacuna in the
international anti-piracy regime which needs to be addressed as a mat-
ter of urgency.49 There are a number of proposals for addressing this
problem. Some commentators suggest that under international law the
flag State or, as an alternative, the State of nationality of the pirates
should be required to accept the extradition of pirates if the seizing
State decides not to exercise its power to prosecute them. However, if
those States refuse to accept pirates, the seizing State should be obliged
to proceed with prosecution and punishment.50
Another approach, which in the view of the author is much prefer-
able, is to entrust one of the existing international judicial institutions
with the responsibility of adjudicating on cases of piracy by applying
the existing customary international law and UNCLOS. Although this
would imply that the statute of that institution needed to be amended,
such approach has the advantage of eliminating the necessity of creat-
ing a new international judicial institution specifically for this purpose.
It will also be more acceptable to the States which have expressed con-
cerns regarding the proliferation of international judicial institutions.
At first it might appear that amending the statutory instrument of one
of the existing judicial institutions would be a lengthy and cumber-
some process. However, recent developments have proved that if
there is enough goodwill and recognition of urgency, such process may
be completed expeditiously. In the case of the Tribunal for the Law of
the Sea this may be accomplished by concluding an implement-
ing agreement to UNCLOS. To expedite its practical implementation
such an agreement may include a clause regarding its provisional
implementation.

49
Blanco-Bazan (note 43), at 5.
50
Jesus (note 14), at 386.
1176 vladimir golitsyn

E. Conclusion

It follows from the foregoing that although the current rules of interna-
tional law on piracy are not entirely without deficiencies, as all other
universally accepted rules of international law, they represent a balance
of interests on the subject and thus correspond to a political reality. In
other words, they constitute a set of norms that the world community
of States is prepared to accept as international rules governing activities
for the suppression of piracy. The resurgence of piracy in the last two
decades has not been caused by deficiencies in international law and,
legal means, as noted in this article, cannot cure the disease of piracy.
Roots of the piracy lie in the collapse of a national economy and gov-
ernment structure in some developing countries. Consequently, piracy
can only be eradicated by strengthening the capacity of such develop-
ing States through regional or global cooperative arrangements to
comply with their responsibility to prevent acts of piracy and other acts
of violence at sea and activities connected with such acts.
 The Impact of Law on Contemporary Military
Operations–Sacrificing Security Interests on the
Altar of Political Correctness?

Wolff Heintschel von Heinegg

A. Introduction

Armed forces are a “most dangerous tool”.1 Therefore there can be

no doubt about the necessity of binding legal rules–both national and
international–designed to control the conduct of armed forces and,
if necessary, to prevent impunity by making certain conduct punisha-
ble. The first international treaties regulating the conduct of hostilities,2
at least to a certain extent, were guided by these findings. The law of
armed conflict aims at “alleviating as much as possible the calamities of
war”.3 On the other hand, it may, however, not be left out of sight that
that law also recognizes the “legitimate object which States … endeav-
our to accomplish during war”, i.e. “to weaken the military forces of the
enemy”.4
One may rightly deplore the fact that, despite the achievements
brought about by the UN Charter–often labelled ‘jus contra bellum’5–
resort to the use of armed force remains an accepted “continuation of
politics by other means”.6 Indeed, it would be rather naïve to believe
that the contemporary system of collective security of the United
Nations has been sufficiently developed to abolish for good the use of

1
F. Berber, Lehrbuch des Völkerrechts, Vol. II, at 98 (1969).
2
See the Hague Declarations of 29 July 1907: Declaration (IV, 2) Concerning
Asphyxiating Gases, 1 American Journal of International Law 157 (Suppl. 1907);
Declaration (IV, 3) Concerning Expanding Bullets, id. 155 Further the 1907 Hague
Conventions, especially Convention (IV) Respecting the Laws and Customs of War on
Land, including the Regulations Respecting the Laws and Customs of War on Land
annexed to the Convention, 2 AJIL 90 (Suppl. 1908).
3
Declaration Renouncing the Use, in Time of War, of Explosive Projectiles Under
400 Grammes Weight, St. Petersburg 29 November/11 December 1968, 1 AJIL 95
(Suppl. 1907).
4
Id.
5
M. Bothe, Friedenssicherung und Kriegsrecht, in: W. Graf Vitzthum (ed.),
Völkerrecht, at 642 et seq. (4th ed. 2007).
6
C.v. Clausewitz, Vom Kriege, Book I, Section 24 (1832/34).
1178 wolff heintschel von heinegg

force. There are situations in which even the most peace-loving govern-
ment may come to the conclusion that it cannot but use its armed
forces in order to achieve a given political goal. Such situations are not
limited to the exercise of the inherent right of self-defence or to the
enforcement of UN Security Council resolutions under Chapter VII of
the Charter. The use of military force may also be the last resort when
it comes to terminating gross and systematic violations of human
rights7 or to suppressing massive organized crime. Finally, the UN sys-
tem has not, and will not, prevent the outbreak of internal disturbances
and of non-international armed conflicts. A government faced by an
internal armed opposition will regularly not be prepared to give in and
accept its opponent’s claims. Even if that opponent happens to be a
people exercising its right of self-determination there is no absolute
obligation for the government to tolerate armed secessionist efforts.8
The objective of the present contribution is not to analyse the legality
of resort to the use of armed force in the situations just mentioned.
Rather, the contribution starts from the premise that governments con-
tinue to make use of their armed forces for legitimate–and sometimes
illegitimate–reasons. Then, however, it is–to say the least–puzzling why
governments, on the one hand, preserve the military option and, on
the other hand, impose on their armed forces rules and restrictions
which have the potential of preventing the armed forces from achiev-
ing the mission politically assigned to them or which may, in the worst
case, even result in mission creep. Sometimes one cannot escape the
impression that some governments are embarrassed because of the
mere existence of their armed forces and, even more so, by having
to make actual use of them. They seem to be most anxious to appease

7
For the legality or illegality of humanitarian intervention see M. Byers/
S. Chesterman, Changing the Rules about Rules? Unilateral Humanitarian Intervention
and the Future of International Law, in: J.L. Holzgrefe/R.O. Keohane (eds.),
Humanitarian Intervention, at 177–203 (2003); T.M. Franck, Interpretation and
Change in the Law of Humanitarian Intervention, id., at 204–231; J. Stromseth,
Rethinking Humanitarian Intervention: The Case for Incremental Change, id., at 232–
272; B. Simma, NATO, the UN and the Use of Force: Legal Aspects, 10 European
Journal of International Law 1 (1999); A. Cassese, Ex inuria ius oritur: Are We Moving
towards International Legitimation of Forcible Humanitarian Countermeasures in the
World Community?, 10 EJIL 23 (1999). See also the statements on the Kosovo
Campaign by L. Henkin, R. Wedgwood, J.I. Charney, C.M. Chinkin, R.A. Falk,
T.M. Franck and W.M. Reisman in 93 AJIL, at 824–862 (1999).
8
The fact that the ICJ has found that a declaration of independence does not violate
international law is without prejudice to this finding: ICJ, Accordance with International
Law of the Unilateral Declaration of Independence in Respect of Kosovo, Advisory
Opinion of 22 July 2010, at paras. 78–121, not yet published in the ICJ Reports.
the impact of law on contemporary military operations1179

critics and, in order to prove their innocence, emphasize the fact that
their armed forces are strictly tamed by a variety of legal and other
rules. In extreme cases the deployment of armed forces is advertised as
a purely humanitarian operation. The fact that they are armed, trained
and instructed to neutralize an enemy, i.e. to use deadly force, is con-
cealed or only casually admitted. According to the position taken here,
governments should be abundantly clear about the tasks assigned to
their armed forces. If there is a political necessity for their deployment
governments are under an obligation–vis-à-vis their allies, their civil
societies and their armed forces–openly to admit that a certain politi-
cal goal can only be achieved by the use of force even if that use of force
is supplementary to political and other measures. Moreover, they have
the duty to equip their armed forces not only with the necessary tech-
nology and weapons but also to ensure as much legal clarity and secu-
rity as possible. This implies that they should not too easily give in to
considerations of political correctness by, for example, agreeing on
rules which will run counter to the missions armed forces are regularly
tasked with.

B. Situations of Armed Conflict

In view of the current state of international relations armed forces will

regularly be operating on the basis of an authorization or of a mandate9
by the UN Security Council. This, however, does not necessarily result
in the inapplicability of the law of armed conflict or international
humanitarian law. The UN Secretary-General, in the 1999 Bulletin,
emphasized that the “fundamental principles and rules of international
humanitarian law set out in the present bulletin are applicable to United
Nations forces when in situations of armed conflict they are actively
engaged therein as combatants, to the extent and for the duration of
their engagement. They are accordingly applicable in enforcement
actions, or in peacekeeping operations when the use of force is per­
mitted in self-defence”.10 While the Bulletin has contributed to some

    9
Armed forces operating on the basis of a mandate are subject to the provisions of
the UN Secretary-General’s Bulletin (infra note 10) because they are to be considered
“UN personnel”. Armed forces operating on the basis of an authorization retain their
status as national armed forces.
10
Secretary-General’s Bulletin, Observance by United Nations Forces of
International Humanitarian Law, UN Doc. ST/SGB/1999/13 of 6 August 1999.
1180 wolff heintschel von heinegg

confusion,11 there can be no doubt about the correctness of the finding

that even UN forces12 are bound by the law of armed conflict if they are
actively engaged in armed hostilities having passed the threshold of
an–international or non-international–armed conflict. A fortiori, that
very law applies to armed forces operating either on the basis of an
authorization by the UN Security Council or without such authoriza-
tion if and insofar as an armed conflict has come into existence. The
use of armed forces without an authorization by the Security Council
regularly occurs in non-international armed conflicts–which by far
outnumber inter-State armed conflicts–but it regularly occurs in tradi-
tional international armed conflicts as well.13

I. Law of Armed Conflict

Hence, the use of armed forces in situations of armed conflict seems to
be more the rule than the exception in contemporary international
relations. Certainly, the fall of the iron curtain has not contributed to a
noticeable decrease in the number of armed conflicts. The use of armed
force still being an option one would expect governments to apply the
existing law of armed conflict in a sober and pragmatic manner if the
factual situation were such that an armed conflict had come into exist-
ence. Moreover, one would expect them to shape that law in such a way
that the continuation of their politics by other means was not unduly
impeded by rules which might prove to be inoperable in reality. The
opposite, however, seems to be true.

11
For a clarification see D. Shraga, The Secretary-General’s Bulletin on the Obser­
vance by United Nations Forces of International Humanitarian Law: A Decade Later,
39 Israel Yearbook of Human Rights 357 (2009).
12
UN personnel are defined as “persons engaged or deployed by the Secretary-
General of the United Nations as members of the military, police or civilian compo-
nents of a United Nations operations”: Article 1 (a)(i) of the Convention on the Safety
of United Nations and Associated Personnel, UN Doc. A/49/49 of 9 December 1994.
According to Article 1 (c) a ‘UN operation’ means “an operation established by the
competent organ of the United Nations in accordance with the Charter of the United
Nations and conducted under United Nations authority and control: (i) Where the
operation is for the purpose of maintaining or restoring international peace and secu-
rity; or (ii) Where the Security Council or the General Assembly has declared, for the
purposes of this Convention, that there exists an exceptional risk to the safety of the
personnel participating in the operation”.
13
It suffices here merely to mention the Kosovo Campaign of 1999, the Israel-
Lebanon War of 2006, and the Georgian-Russian War of 2008. It may be added that in
view of the dependence upon natural resources there is, in the near future, a high prob-
ability of an increasing number of inter-State armed conflicts.
the impact of law on contemporary military operations1181

1. General Rules
a. Denying the Applicability of the Law of Armed Conflict
It is far from being a novel phenomenon that governments hesitate to
characterize a situation as one of an international, or non-international,
armed conflict. It is not necessary to go back to the times of the League
of Nations to find that there obviously is a strong reluctance on the part
of governments to admit that their respective States have become party
to an armed conflict. The most prominent case in the post-1945 era
was the “Cuban Quarantine”–a term invented to distract from the fact
that a blockade proper had been established around Cuba.14 More
recently, the German government, until 2009, continuously character-
ized the operation in Afghanistan as a “stabilization operation and not
a war”. Such statements by the former Federal Minister of Defence were
as correct as they were wrong. Of course, the German armed forces
deployed to Afghanistan were (and still are) part of ISAF and thus of a
stabilization operation.15 Of course, the German armed forces were not
engaged in a war, either in the formal or in the material sense.16
However, the situation in Afghanistan had certainly developed beyond
“internal disturbances and tensions, such as riots, isolated and sporadic
acts of violence and other acts of a similar nature”17 and, thus, into a
non-international armed conflict. Governments may have good reason
to deny the existence of an armed conflict for domestic (political or
legal) purposes. And since such politically motivated characteriza-
tions have no impact on the applicability of the law of armed conflict18

14
See, inter alia, C.Q. Christol/C.R. Davies, Maritime Quarantine: The Naval
Interdiction of Offensive Weapons and Associated Matérial to Cuba, 1962, 57 AJIL 525
(1963); Q. Wright, The Cuban Quarantine, id. 546; C.G. Fenwick, The Quarantine
Against Cuba: Legal or Illegal?, id. 587; M.S. McDougal, The Soviet-Cuban Quarantine
and Self-Defense, id. 597; L. Weber, Cuban Quarantine, in: R. Bernhardt (ed.),
Encyclopedia of Public International Law (EPIL) Vol. I, 882 (1992).
15
SC Res. 1386 of 20 December 2001, last SC Res. 1917 of 22 March 2010.
16
For the different concepts of war see H.-J. Wolff, Kriegserklärung und
Kriegszustand nach Klassischem Völkerrecht, at 58 et seq. (1990); W. Meng, War, in:
EPIL (note 14) Vol. IV, 1334 (2000).
17
Article 1 (2) of the Protocol Additional to the Geneva Conventions of 12 August
1949, and Relating to the Protection of Victims of Non-International Armed Conflicts
(Protocol II) of 8 June 1977, 1125 UNTS 609; hereinafter: AP II. This rule nega-
tively defining the term non-international armed conflict is customary in character. See
M.N. Schmitt/Ch.H.B. Garraway/Y. Dinstein, The Manual on the Law of Non-
International Armed Conflict, Rule 1.1.1 and accompanying commentary (2006).
18
See S.-S. Junod, Article 1 Protocol II, in: Y. Sandoz/Ch. Swinarski/B. Zimmermann
(eds.), ICRC Commentary on the Additional Protocols, at para. 4459 (1987): “The
Protocol applies automatically as soon as the material conditions as defined in the
1182 wolff heintschel von heinegg

one may consider them to be irrelevant. However, the members of the

regular armed forces are subordinated to the will of their political mas-
ters. If those masters take pains to flatly deny the existence of an armed
conflict19 and, at the same time, the applicability of the law of armed
conflict, it is almost impossible for the military command still to plan
and execute military operations on the basis of that law. Moreover,
such statements give rise to severe misunderstandings on the applica-
ble legal yardstick. While the law of armed conflict does not prohibit
the destruction of military objectives (e.g. tank trucks captured by
Taliban fighters) or the killing of lawful targets (e.g. Taliban fighters)
such measures would not necessarily be lawful if the situation were not
one of an armed conflict. In law enforcement (or mere stabilization)
operations, the use of deadly force is limited to extreme situations.
Under the general principle of proportionality the use of deadly force
must be the ultima ratio. In armed conflict, the general principle of
proportionality does not apply. Incidental loss and damage is prohib-
ited only if it is excessive (not: extensive!) in relation to the military
advantage anticipated.20 If, however, soldiers are left with the–
false–characterization of an existing armed conflict that may have
far-reaching negative effects in various respects. On the one hand, they
may face criminal investigations–sometimes even by prosecutors who
are not familiar with the factual situation or, even worse, with the law
of armed conflict. On the other hand, they may be under the wrong
impression that the use of deadly force even against lawful targets is
strictly limited by the general principle of proportionality. They may
hesitate to make use of the spectrum provided by the law of armed
conflict and may put themselves in danger of being killed. The most
detrimental effect of a false characterization of a situation of armed
conflict, however, is on the mindset of the members of the armed forces
entrusted with the military operation. They know their task, e.g. to

article are fulfilled”. The same automatism comes into operation in cases of an interna-
tional armed conflict.
19
Certainly, this is not a German problem alone. On, e.g., the situation in the U.S.
see Ch. Garraway, Afghanistan and the Nature of the Conflict, 39 Isr.YBHR 1 (2009).
20
See Article 51 (5) (b) of the Protocol Additional to the Geneva Conventions of
12 August 1949, and Relating to the Protection of Victims of International Armed
Conflicts (Protocol I) of 8 June 1977, 1125 UNTS 3, hereinafter: AP I. For the custom-
ary character of the prohibition of excessive collateral damage and for its applicability
in non-international armed conflict see J.-M. Henckaerts/L. Doswald-Beck (eds.),
Customary International Humanitarian Law, Vol. I (Rules), Rule 14 and accompanying
commentary, id. at 46 et seq. (2005), hereinafter: CILS.
the impact of law on contemporary military operations1183

neutralize “with all necessary means” the enemy, but they are not
equipped with the legal instruments necessary to accomplish it. Thus,
the success of an entire military or security operation may be
jeopardized.
It is maintained here that the above findings hold true despite the
fact that armed forces will almost never be entitled to make use of the
entire spectrum of measures allowed under the law of armed conflict.
Certainly, Rules of Engagements (RoE) will always limit the options–
be it for operational, be it for political reasons.21 Since, however, RoE
must comply with the applicable law the operators and legal advisors
entrusted with their development will be prevented from tailoring
them in line with the law of armed conflict if their political masters
deny the applicability of that law.
b. Customary International Law
It is a commonplace that the law applicable to non-international armed
conflicts is far less developed than that applicable to international
armed conflicts. Still, since the famous Tadic decision of the ICTY’s
Appeal Chamber22 the claims that the two bodies of law have merged
into one have been increasingly accepted.23 This is quite surprising. In
1949, States could only agree upon common Article 3 of the four
Geneva Conventions. In 1977, they limited the scope of applicability of
AP II to internal armed conflicts in the sense of Article 1 (1) AP II. One
may praise the wisdom of that limitation because of the far-reaching
obligations imposed upon non-State actors by AP II.24 However,
it cannot be denied that States have been quite reluctant to accept that
public international law applies to situations of internal armed conflict.
Why have governments, then, not objected to the findings of the
ICTY’s Appeal Chamber? Why have only a few governments taken the

21
RoE are a command and control tool limiting the use of force. In recent
armed conflicts RoE have always been restrictive in the sense that they prohibited
conduct which would otherwise have been in accordance with the law of armed
conflict.
22
ICTY, Prosecutor v. Dusko Tadić? a/k/a “Dule”, Decision on the defence motion for
interlocutory appeal on jurisdiction, Case No. IT-94-1-AR72, Decision of 2 October
1995.
23
For an analysis of that decision see W. Heintschel von Heinegg, Criminal
International Law and Customary International Law, in: A. Zimmermann (ed.),
International Criminal Law and the Current Development of Public International Law,
27 (2003).
24
A non-State actor not fulfilling the conditions laid down in Article 1 (1) AP II will
scarcely be in a position to comply with the obligations laid down in the Protocol.
1184 wolff heintschel von heinegg

opportunity of commenting upon the 2005 Customary International

Humanitarian Law Study,25 although there are good reasons to doubt
the methodology and the correctness of various findings?26 Why have
they given up so easily their prerogative right to affirm and develop
customary international law? It may be recalled in this context that
the ICRC certainly must be considered a guardian of international
humanitarian law. But is the ICRC entitled to contribute directly to the
formation of customary international law; may it usurp the role of a
law-maker?
Of course, it would be a positive result if the differences between the
law of international armed conflicts and the law of non-international
armed conflicts were less than they presently are under international
treaty law. Moreover, why should the members of regular armed forces
apply different legal standards depending upon the legal qualification
of the situation they are operating in? After all, the law of international
armed conflict is based upon value judgements which do not change by
reason of the mere fact that armed force is not used against States actors
but against non-State actors.
Still, some doubts remain. Firstly, a government confronted by vio-
lent non-State actors continues to have the legitimate right to treat
them as ordinary criminals. The applicability of standards originally
reserved for situations of international armed conflict may be inter-
preted as a recognition of the enemy as a party on an equal footing. Of
course, neither the ICTY nor the ICRC goes that far. They accept that
combatant immunity is reserved to combatants, i.e. to members of the
regular armed forces (or of armed groups assimilated to them) engaged
in an international armed conflict.27 Still, that misunderstanding can-
not be ruled out altogether. Secondly, non-State actors will regularly
not be in a position to comply with the same standards as members of
regular armed forces. Therefore, the alleged merger may contribute to
the introduction of double standards privileging the non-State actors
rather than forcing them to comply with the legal standards. Thirdly,
in asymmetric armed conflicts “the weaker party, recognizing the
military superiority of its opponent, will avoid open confrontation
that is bound to lead to the annihilation of its troops and to defeat.

25
Supra note 20.
26
For a criticism see, inter alia, Y. Dinstein, The ICRC Customary International
Humanitarian Law Study, 36 Isr. YBHR 1 (2006).
27
See, e.g., CILS (note 20), at 21.
the impact of law on contemporary military operations1185

Instead it will tend to compensate its inadequate arsenal by employing

unconventional means and methods and prolonging the conflict
through an undercover war of attrition against its well equipped
enemy”.28 In other words, asymmetric actors will intentionally violate
the law of armed conflict.
One possible answer to the above questions can be derived from the
origin of the merger of the two bodies of law. States seem to have acqui-
esced in the ICTY’s findings because the Tribunal dealt with the indi-
vidual criminal responsibility of, inter alia, the members of non-State
organized armed groups. The fact that that very same law would also be
applicable to the members of regular armed forces was considered less
problematic. Either, governments firmly (and naïvely) believed that
members of their regular armed forces would, in principle, not be
involved in war crimes or they simply focused on the non-State actors
whose punishment under both domestic and international criminal
law they considered desirable.
This is, it seems, different from the findings of the ICRC Customary
International Humanitarian Law Study. One possible explanation is
that governments were not prepared to take issue with the ICRC on a
matter they considered to be of minor importance. It may, however, not
be lost sight of that very often the addressee was not the Ministry of
Defence but the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Traditionally, there is a
noticeable difference in the approach of those ministries to the law of
armed conflict. Therefore, the fact that a Ministry of Foreign Affairs
has either remained silent or even welcomed the CILS’s findings does
not necessarily mean that the government concerned in fact agrees
with the Study. Still, the very fact that there has been a positive or
implicit reception by one ministry will make it more than difficult for a
dissenting ministry to formulate rules which differ from those con-
tained in the Study.
c. Introducing a General Principle of Proportionality
Far more puzzling than the silence of governments on the ICRC Study
(or on the ICTY’s approach) is the reaction–or rather: lack of reaction–
to increasing efforts to introduce into the law of armed conflict the
general principle of proportionality. As already stated above, the law of
armed conflict only prohibits excessive collateral damage.29 It would

28
T. Pfanner, Asymmetrical Warfare from the Perspective of Humanitarian Law
and Humanitarian Action, 87 International Review of the Red Cross 149, at 153 (2005).
29
Supra note 20 and accompanying text.
1186 wolff heintschel von heinegg

indeed result in a contradiction of basic value decisions underlying the

law of armed conflict if, on the one hand, an attack against lawful mili-
tary targets were subject to considerations of proportionality and, on
the other hand, incidental injuries and losses were unlawful only if they
were excessive in relation to the military advantage anticipated. In
other words, an attack on a military objective inflicting injuries on an
extensive number of civilians would be in accordance with the law,
while an attack on an enemy combatant would be unlawful if there
were a possibility of capturing rather than killing him.
However, the ICRC’s Interpretive Guidance on Direct Participation
in Hostilities30 seems to suggest that this is the current state of the law
of armed conflict. The ICRC claims that “the kind and degree of force
which is permissible against persons not entitled to protection against
direct attack must not exceed what is actually necessary to accomplish
a legitimate military purpose in the prevailing circumstances”.31 This
alleged rule applies not only to civilians directly participating in hos-
tilities but also to combatants and to members of organized armed
groups (performing a continuous combat function).32 A closer look at
the Interpretive Guidance, however, reveals that the ICRC has taken a
cautious approach. First, it is conceded that the “aim cannot be to
replace the judgment of the military commander by inflexible or
unrealistic standards”.33 Second, the ICRC emphasizes that “the
absence of an unfettered ‘right’ to kill does not necessarily imply a
legal obligation to capture rather than kill regardless of the circum-
stances”.34 Moreover, the ICRC differentiates between large-scale and
low-intensity conflicts.
Still, these concessions are not sufficient to rule out grave concerns
about the practical effects an application of the Guidance could have.
First of all, the differentiation between different kinds of armed conflict
results in the fragmentation of the law of armed conflict into sub-
categories in which different legal standards apply. Secondly, the
importance attached to “the circumstances” will, in the majority of
cases, imply the introduction of double standards. While regular armed

30
ICRC, Interpretive Guidance on the Notion of Direct Participation in Hostilities,
90 International Review of the Red Cross, 991 (2009).
31
Id., at 77.
32
Id., at 21 et seq.
33
Id., at 80.
34
Id., at 78.
the impact of law on contemporary military operations1187

forces, in view of their organization and available means, will be in a

position to refrain from killing an adversary (and rather capture him)
without jeopardizing the success of the relevant military operation,
non-State actors will not have that option and will make use of an
“unfettered right to kill”.
Of course, the profession of a soldier necessarily involves the danger
of being injured or even killed. If, however, governments expect from
their soldiers compliance with the law applicable in armed conflict,
they should not accept the introduction of double standards which will
be perceived as unfair. Governments cannot expect their armed forces
to risk their lives to achieve political goals and to comply with legal
restrictions which do not apply to their adversary.
It may be added that similar concerns exist about the definition of
civilians in the ICRC’s Interpretive Guidance. According to Section II,
civilians in a non-international armed conflict are negatively distin-
guished from members of organized armed groups. The latter are said
to “consist only of individuals whose continuous function is to take a
direct part in hostilities (‘continuous combat function’)”.35 Such “con-
tinuous combat function”, according to the Guidance, “requires lasting
integration into an organized armed group acting as the armed forces
of a non-State party to an armed conflict”.36 At the same time, members
of the regular armed forces, regardless of the function they serve, are
considered not to be civilians. Again, this means the introduction of a
double standard that will not be operable in real life. Therefore, it would
have been preferable had the Guidance followed the ICRC’s CILS
which rightly states, “Such imbalance would not exist if members of
organized armed groups were, due to their membership, either consid-
ered to be continuously taking a direct part in the hostilities or not
considered to be civilians”.37

2. Methods and Means of Warfare

It would exceed the space available here to identify the entire spec-
trum of problems involved in the acceleration of efforts to outlaw or
to restrict the use of certain weapons by means of humanitarian arms
control treaties. Moreover, this subject has already been dealt with

35
Id., at 27.
36
Id., at 34.
37
CILS (note 20), at 21.
1188 wolff heintschel von heinegg

­ rilliantly by others.38 Hence, it must suffice to concentrate on the fol-

b
lowing aspects.
The first relates to the question why States, when agreeing on the
Ottawa39 and on the Dublin Conventions,40 on anti-personnel mines
and cluster munitions respectively, have not made (exclusive) use of
the mechanism provided by the 1980 Conventional Weapons
Convention.41 The answer is obvious. The adoption of a new Protocol to
the CCW would have been rather burdensome and time-consuming.
While some may consider the Ottawa and Dublin Conventions a suc-
cess of humanity and a victory over considerations of military necessity
it must be borne in mind that major Powers, including the U.S., Russia
and China, are not prepared to ratify, or accede to, e.g., the Dublin
Convention. Since those are the States whose interests are specially
affected42 it is more than doubtful whether the Convention’s prohibi-
tions will ever constitute customary international law. It may be added
that there is no necessity for those States to become persistent objectors
because the mere fact that an international treaty has been concluded
or entered into force does not mean that its provisions have the poten-
tial to become customary international law. Again, we are confronted
with a fragmentation of the law of armed conflict which does not con-
tribute to legal clarity and legal security. Moreover, despite Article
21(3) of the Dublin Convention, that fragmentation increases prob-
lems of interoperability in combined operations.
The second question is why States so easily dispose of weapons
which serve an important military function. For instance, cluster
munitions are very often the only means of effectively neutralizing
large enemy targets (e.g. airfields, concentrations of enemy forces). If
such weapons are no longer available the alternative will be to resort to
target area bombing which might be conducted by the use of a high
number of unsophisticated bombs. The ensuing detrimental effects
would be less limited than in the case of the use of cluster munitions.

38
See W.H. Boothby, Weapons and the Law of Armed Conflict, at 106 et seq. (2009).
39
Convention on the Prohibition of the Use, Stockpiling, Production and Transfer
of Anti-Personnel Mines and on their Destruction, 18 September 1997, 2056 UNTS
211.
40
Convention on Cluster Munitions, 3 December 2008, 48 ILM 354 (2009).
41
Convention on Prohibitions or Restrictions on the Use of Certain Conventional
Weapons which may be deemed to be Excessively Injurious or to have Indiscriminate
Effects, 10 October 1980, 1342 UNTS 137.
42
North Sea Continental Shelf (Germany v. Denmark & Netherlands), ICJ Reports
1969, 3, paras. 73–74.
the impact of law on contemporary military operations1189

The aim of protecting civilians against the–allegedly uncontrollable–

effects of the use of cluster munitions can be achieved without a far-
reaching ban on such weapons.43 It may be recalled that the prohibition
of indiscriminate attacks in Art. 51 AP I is customary in character and,
therefore, applies to the use of cluster munitions as well–be it in inter-
national, be it in non-international armed conflict.44 Obviously, the
governments willing to agree upon a far-reaching (not on an absolute)
prohibition of cluster munitions were driven by the international cam-
paigns which had been launched by various NGOs. It is to be doubted
whether they were also guided by a sober analysis of the humanitarian
and operational issues involved. In any event, they have given up an
option and that may prove in a future armed conflict to have been the
wrong decision.
An example of an over-hasty consent to a prohibition which was
perceived as being well in line with considerations of political correct-
ness was the prohibition of riot control agents. Many States believed
that, according to Article I (5) of the 1993 Chemical Weapons
Convention,45 the use of riot control agents by their armed forces was
absolutely prohibited. Therefore, the German armed forces, when
deployed to Kosovo and confronted by a rioting crowd, were not
allowed to use riot control agents under the German law implementing
the 1993 Convention. The choice which remained was either the use of
deadly force or retreat. Both choices would have been more than
counter-productive with a view to the mission’s task. What had been
overlooked was that Article I (5) of the Chemical Weapons Convention
only prohibits the “use of riot control agents as a method of warfare”.
It does not prohibit the use of riot control agents by the armed forces
when deployed to a stabilization operation and when not in a situation
of armed conflict engaged in armed hostilities against enemy armed
forces. This example shows that governments may tend to give up
options because they simply do not foresee the necessity for them in
situations they have not experienced before.
Therefore, there is a high probability that future campaigns,
e.g. against depleted uranium munitions or against white phosphorous,

43
See also W.H. Boothby, Cluster Bombs: Is there a Case for New Law?,
5 Humanitarian Policy and Conflict Research Occasional Paper Series (2005).
44
See CILS (note 20), at 37 et seq.
45
Convention on the Prohibition of the Development, Production, Stockpiling and
Use of Chemical Weapons and on Their Destruction, 13 January 1993, 1974 UNTS 45.
1190 wolff heintschel von heinegg

will be as successful as those launched against anti-personnel mines

and cluster munitions.
It will be most interesting to see how governments will react to a
probable campaign against the use of unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs).
In view of the current controversy on the legality of targeted killings (or
“extrajudicial killings”),46 it may well be that some governments will
overreact and consent to a prohibition or to a restriction of the use of
UAVs. This would–to say the least–certainly run counter to their secu-
rity interests. UAVs are a perfect tool for acquiring a recognizable pic-
ture of an area of operations. If used against enemy military targets
they will enable the armed forces to minimize collateral damage.
However, if they were considered to be but weapons (as distinguished
from means of warfare) this would, again, mean giving up options
which might prove to be of vital importance. It may be emphasized in
this context that UAVs are platforms, not weapons. As such they must
be considered military aircraft which, if complying with the respective
conditions, enjoy sovereign immunity and, consequently the right of
overflight.47 Any rule of international law characterizing UAVs as
weapons would imply far-reaching restrictions on their use–both in
armed conflict and in security operations not passing the threshold of
armed conflict.

II. Other Rules

Today, armed forces in situations of armed conflict are obliged to com-
ply not just with the law of armed conflict but also with other rules
which, at first glance, are not designed to apply to such situations. This
especially holds true for human rights law but also for some rules of
domestic law.

1. Human Rights Law

Today, there is a widely-held view that international human rights law
does not cease to apply in situations of armed conflict.48 While there

46
Report of the Special Rapporteur on extrajudicial, summary or arbitrary execu-
tions, UN Doc.A/HCR/14/24/Add.6 (2010). See also N. Melzer, Targeted Killing in
International Law, at 394 et seq. (2008).
47
See HPCR Manual on International Law Applicable to Air and Missile Warfare,
Section A, Rule 1 (x), (dd), and (ee) (Bern 2009).
48
See, inter alia, ICJ, Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons, Advisory
Opinion of 8 July 1996, ICJ Reports 1996, para. 25; ICJ, Legal Consequences of the
the impact of law on contemporary military operations1191

may be good arguments for doubting the correctness of that position it

is too late to reopen that discussion.49 Obviously, governments–apart
from the U.S.–have consented to the extraterritorial and parallel (or:
complementary) applicability of human rights law in situations of
armed conflict. Again, it is surprising that they have so consented
because the consequences are manifold. One could argue that the
Loizidou Case50 has not given rise to noticeable concerns for the mere
fact that Turkey was the respondent and that in 1995, i.e. at the date of
the decision, no European government foresaw the possibility of
becoming an occupying power. It is an irony of history that, in 2003,
some governments had to learn that military occupation was not a relic
of a distant past.
In 1999, however, the European governments whose armed forces
had participated in the Kosovo Campaign became aware of the possi-
ble consequences of their passivity. It is obvious that all European gov-
ernments concerned had a keen interest in a decision of the European
Court of Human Rights denying its jurisdiction in the Banković Case.
After the controversy on the legality of the attacks against the former
Yugoslavia under the jus ad bellum it would have been rather embar-
rassing had the Court not only considered itself competent but also
ruled on the merits of the case. The Court was helpful insofar as it held
that the European Convention on Human Rights “was not designed to
be applied throughout the world, even in respect of the conduct of
Contracting States. Accordingly, the desirability of avoiding a gap or
vacuum in human rights’ protection has so far been relied on by the
Court in favour of establishing jurisdiction only when the territory in
question was one that, but for the specific circumstances, would nor-
mally be covered by the Convention”.51 Hence, the Court ruled that air

Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, Advisory Opinion of 9 July

2004; ICJ Reports 2004, 136, at paras. 106, 111; Inter-American Commission on
Human Rights, Case 10.951, Coard and Others v. United States of America, 29 September
1999, 123 ILR 156 et seq. (2003); United Nations Human Rights Committee, General
Comment No. 31 on Article 2 of the Covenant, CCPR/C/74/CRP.4/Rev. 6, at para. 11;
R. Provost, International Human Rights and Humanitarian Law, passim (2002);
R. Kolb, Human Rights and Humanitarian Law, in: R. Wolfrum (ed.) Max Planck
Encyclopedia of Public International Law, online edition available at http://www
.mpepil.com.
49
Still, the question of the value added by a complementary application of human
rights law has not been answered satisfactorily.
50
ECHR, Loizidou v. Turkey, Decisions of 23 March 1995 (Preliminary Objections)
and of 28 December 1996 (Merits), Appl. No. 15318/89.
51
ECHR, Banković et al. v. Belgium et al., Judgment of 12 December 2001, Appl.
No. 52207/99, at para. 80. See also Ch. Steinorth, Bankovic Case, in: MPEPIL (note 48).
1192 wolff heintschel von heinegg

attacks on targets in the former Yugoslavia could not be considered an

exercise of jurisdiction triggering the extraterritorial applicability of
the European Convention.
In the case of Behrami and Saramati52 the European Court of Human
Rights was obviously impressed by the respondents’ argument that
they would not be prepared to contribute further to international
peace-keeping operations if the Court were to affirm its jurisdiction
and to decide on the merits.53 Accordingly, the Court concluded that it
lacked jurisdiction because the impugned acts and omissions of KFOR
and UNMIK could not be attributed to the respondent States and,
moreover, did not take place on the territory of those States or by virtue
of a decision of their authorities.54
Those decisions have been heavily criticized.55 The judgment in the
Behrami and Saramati cases is, to say the least, based upon a false
understanding of the realities of UN and NATO operations. The find-
ing that there had been no exercise of jurisdiction by the respondent
States has no basis in either fact or law. But should the Court be blamed?
After all, it was more or less forced by the respondent governments to
seek desperately for a solution enabling it to deny its jurisdiction.
Otherwise the Court would have had to decide upon the relationship
between the Convention and Article 103 of the UN Charter or to take
a final decision on the extraterritorial applicability of the European
Convention. Moreover, it would have been compelled to analyse the
law of armed conflict. That would have been far too much.
The decision of the respondent States to force the European Court
twice to deny its jurisdiction has neither contributed to an increase of
legal clarity nor helped the Court to be a credible guardian of European
human rights. The European governments have simply underestimated
the possible effects of the extraterritorial applicability of human rights
law and they are to blame for the Court being compelled to rely on less

52
ECHR, Behrami and Behrami v. France and Saramati v. France, Germany and
Norway, Decision of 2 May 2007, Appl. No. 71412/01 and 78166/01.
53
Id., at para.90, 94, 108, 115.
54
Id., at para. 128–143, 151.
55
B. Knoll, Rights Without Remedies: The European Court’s Failure to Close the
Human Rights Gap in Kosovo, 68 Heidelberg Journal of International Law (2008),
431 et seq.; K. Schmalenbach, Bedingt kooperationsbereit: Der Kontrollanspruch des
EuGH bei gezielten Sanktionen der Vereinten Nationen, 64 Juristenzeitung (2009),
35, at 38 et seq.; M. Milanovic/T. Papic, As Bad as it Gets: The European Court of
Human Rights’ Behrami and Saramati Decision and General International Law,
58 International and Comparative Law Quarterly 267 et seq. (2009).
the impact of law on contemporary military operations1193

than convincing legal arguments. They should have been crystal clear
from the outset on the following issues: (1) the scope of any extrater-
ritorial applicability of the European Convention; (2) the relationship
between human rights law and international humanitarian law; (3) if
they accept the parallel applicability of human rights law and interna-
tional humanitarian law, the identification of the value added by such
parallel application; (4) their position vis-à-vis an individual right to
compensation for victims of measures of armed forces violating the law
of armed conflict and/or human rights law. The last aspect is important
in view of the fact that, under the law of armed conflict, there is no
room for individual claims for compensation.56 Introducing such indi-
vidual rights via the backdoor of human rights law would imply a fun-
damental change to the law of armed conflict. Unfortunately, the
European governments have remained passive and they, seemingly,
have decided to react on a case-by-case basis only. Such a stance will
neither promote the protection of individuals in situations of armed
conflict nor assist the armed forces clearly to identify the law they are
obliged to comply with.

2. Domestic Law
Finally, regarding situations of armed conflict, a further element add-
ing to the growing confusion of the armed forces is the alleged extrater-
ritorial applicability of domestic law. There are numerous examples
which range from a duty to observe technical standards which have
been designed to specify legal requirements under domestic law to the
full applicability of domestic criminal law designed to protect the natu-
ral environment. Those who decide on such a far-reaching extraterrito-
rial binding force of domestic rules and standards show, to say the least,
a lack of confidence–sometimes those decisions seem to be the product
of simple cowardice. In any event they are ample evidence of the fact
that those who have the power to decide are not necessarily sufficiently
acquainted with the realities in the area of operations. In order to avoid
any possible mistake they add yet another burden to the legal packet
soldiers have to carry during their operations abroad.

56
See, inter alia, W. Heintschel von Heinegg, Entschädigung für Verletzungen
des humanitären Völkerrechts, in: W. Heintschel von Heinegg/S. Kadelbach/B. Heß/
M. Hilf/W. Benedek/W.-H. Roth, Entschädigung nach bewaffneten Konflikten.
Die Konstitutionalisierung der Welthandelsordnung, 40 Berichte der Deutschen
Gesellschaft für Völkerrecht, 1 (2003).
1194 wolff heintschel von heinegg

C. Situations Other Than Armed Conflict

One would expect the situation to be less problematic when it comes to

the use of the armed forces in situations other than armed conflicts.
Unfortunately, this is not the case. After all, the factual circumstances
triggering the applicability of the law of armed conflict will–hopefully–
enable prosecutors and–international or domestic–courts to base their
decisions correctly on the applicable law. Very often, however, there is
no ready-made international law which applies to contemporary mili-
tary operations not amounting to an armed conflict. Accordingly, and
in view of the extent of grey areas, it is much easier for governments to
refrain from a clarification of operable legal standards. At the same
time, certain interest groups can seize the opportunity to claim viola-
tions of the law–despite, or in view of, the existing uncertainties as to
the applicable law.

I. Contemporary Military Operations

Since it would exceed the space available here and since at least some
legal clarity has been added regarding the applicable law, e.g. by the
1999 UN Secretary-General’s Bulletin,57 peace-keeping operations will
not be dealt with. Rather, the present contribution will concentrate on
counter-terrorism and on counter-piracy operations which are con-
ducted by combined, i.e. multinational, armed forces.
The most important counter-piracy and counter-terrorism opera-
tions currently taking place are those off the East African coast.58
Although, it may, in practice, sometimes be difficult clearly to distin-
guish those operations this is not an obstacle to identifying the differ-
ent rules of international law applying either to counter-piracy or to
counter-terrorism operations.

II. International Law (Allegedly) Applicable to Counter-Piracy

and to Counter-Terrorism Operations
1. Counter-Terrorism Operations
At present, a quite impressive number of States whose armed forces are
taking part in Operation Enduring Freedom seem to be satisfied with

57
Supra note 10.
58
It may be recalled that Operation Enduring Freedom–a counter-terrorism
operation–is not limited to the territory of Afghanistan. As to the counter-piracy
the impact of law on contemporary military operations1195

identifying the right of individual or collective self-defence as the inter-

national legal basis for that operation.59 Of course, the law of the sea
also provides some rules which would apply to counter-terrorism
measures taken at sea.60 Still, there is a considerable problem in view of
the fact that so far governments have refused to explain what the appli-
cability of the right of self-defence means in concrete circumstances.
Hence, the armed forces deployed on counter-terrorism operations are
less than clear about the possible impact of the right of self-defence and
about the measures they would be entitled to take when there were
reasonable grounds for suspicion that, for instance, a top transnational
terrorist was travelling on board a ship flying the flag of a State which
was not taking part in the operation. Acquiring the master’s consent for
the purpose of boarding and searching a suspect vessel is neither an
undisputed61 nor a very reliable legal basis because the master may
change his mind. Which rules apply if a vessel does not comply with an
order to stop? Are the naval forces then entitled to use–proportionate–
force, for instance by firing a shot across the bow or even into the ves-
sel’s rudder? The answers to such questions will differ considerably
depending on which government is asked. Consequently, the armed
forces deployed on counter-terrorism operations are each equipped
with national RoE which very often have not too much in common
with the RoE of the other armed forces participating in the same
operation.

2. Counter-Piracy Operations
Despite the fact that the law of the sea and the UN Security Council
resolutions provide a fairly clear legal basis for measures against acts
of piracy and of armed robbery at sea off the East African coast,62

operations it suffices to merely mention the EU-led operation Atalanta and the NATO-
Led operation Ocean Shield.
59
See R. Wolfrum, Fighting Terrorism at Sea: Options and Limitations under
International Law, in: M.H. Nordquist et al. (eds.), Legal Challenges in Maritime
Security, 1 (2008); W. Heintschel von Heinegg, The Legality of Maritime Interception/
Interdiction Operations within the Framework of Operation Enduring Freedom, in:
F.L. Borch/P.S. Wilson (eds.), International Law and the War on Terror, 79 International
Law Studies 255 (2003).
60
Id.
61
A considerable number of States maintain that boarding presupposes flag State
consent because the master is not allowed to dispose of the flag State’s sovereignty.
62
See, inter alia, W. Heintschel von Heinegg, Repressing Piracy and Armed Robbery
at Sea–Towards a New International Legal Regime?, 40 Isr. YBHR 219 (2010).
1196 wolff heintschel von heinegg

the situation of the armed forces deployed on operations Atalanta and

Ocean Shield as to the applicable law is only slightly better than in the
case of counter-terrorism operations.
The first problem is with the interpretation of the definition of piracy
contained in Article 101 lit. (a) of the 1982 United Nations Convention
on the Law of the Sea (LOSC),63 which is widely accepted as customary
in character.64 According to that definition, the illegal acts of violence
or detention must be committed “for private ends”. These terms are, if
defined at all, understood as meaning the opposite of “political ends”.65
Such an interpretation is, however, most dangerous and not necessarily
correct. It implies that an assault on a merchant vessel in support of
political aims would not fall within the definition’s scope. Of course,
sometimes, such claims can be rejected even if “private ends” is under-
stood as meaning “non-political”.66 However, a freedom fighter or even
a terrorist could claim that his acts were committed for higher namely
political ends and not for “private ends” because they were in support
of an aim not identified by him personally but by an authority or entity.
The drafting history of the definition of piracy merely discloses the dif-
ferent conceptions of piracy and “an overlay of emotion … that many
political compromises would have to be made”.67 However, the Polish
Government, in a submission to the International Law Commission,
seems to have taken the position that “private” is to be understood as
the opposite of “public”.68 While this submission is but poor evidence of
a general consensus there is a high probability that States, rather than
accepting the political ends of freedom fighters, terrorists, or of other
guardians of self-determined values, will agree that action taken in
support of public, i.e. governmental, ends will lie outside the scope of
the concept of piracy. Some may argue that this has already been taken

63
United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, 10 December 1982, 1833
UNTS 3.
64
See A. Rubin, The Law of Piracy, at 337 et seq. (1988); R.R. Churchill/A.V. Lowe,
The Law of the Sea, at 209 et seq. (3rd ed. 1999); I. Shearer, Piracy, in: R. Wolfrum (ed.),
The Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law, online edition available at
http://www.mpepil.com (2008).
65
Cf. Shearer (note 64).
66
In the case of Castle John v. NV Mabeco, the Belgian Court of Cassation held in
1986 that an attack by a Greenpeace vessel against an allegedly polluting Dutch vessel
constituted an act of piracy, because the act of violence was “in support of a personal
point of view” and not political, 77 International Law Reports 537 (1988).
67
Rubin (note 64), at 320.
68
UN Doc. A/CN.4/L.53, 1 Yearbook of International Law Commission, 1 et seq.
(1955).
the impact of law on contemporary military operations1197

care of by the limitation on “private ships”. It may not be left out of

consideration, however, that States are not prevented from entrusting
private agencies with certain law enforcement functions at sea without
converting their vessels into State ships. Accordingly, and in order to
prevent an abuse of the definition, the term “private ends” means other
than public ends.69 Such public ends by necessity must be identified by
a State’s authority. Other entities, especially non-State actors, are not
entitled to determine public ends. Therefore, assaults against merchant
vessels committed for aims identified by other than governmental
institutions constitute piracy. Mere political motives are irrelevant.
Hence, freedom fighters, terrorists and environmentalists are to be
considered pirates if they commit illegal acts in the sense of Article 101
lit. (a) LOSC. However, acts of piracy cannot be considered acts of
(maritime) terrorism without further ado. It needs to be emphasized in
this context that hitherto there has been no convincing evidence of a
terrorist background to piratical acts at the Horn of Africa. If such evi-
dence is provided the perpetrators may be treated as being pirates and
terrorists. Hence, the terrorist background of an act of piracy does not
exclude the application of the legal regime on piracy.
A second problem exists with the extraterritorial applicability of
human rights law. For instance, there have been allegations that,
according to the European Convention on Human Rights, a captured
pirate must be presented to a judge within 24 or 48 hours. Indeed, if the
European Convention were to apply extraterritorially, the legality of
the detention would have to be judged in the light of its Article 5. It is,
however, important to stress that in the event of its extraterritorial
application human rights law cannot be applied in the same manner
as in the domestic context, i.e. as if within the State in question’s terri-
tory. The wording of Article 5 is wide enough to attach relevance to
the situation of a warship deployed at great distances from its home
country. There can be no doubt that the arrest and detention of
individuals suspected of having committed acts of piracy, and of per-
sons who have not complied with lawful orders under Articles 105 and
110 LOSC, are, in principle, in compliance with Article 5 (1) of the
European Convention. The obligation to bring arrested or detained
persons promptly before a judge does not apply with the same strin-
gency as within the territory of the State. The term “promptly” is to be

69
See also D. Guilfoyle, Counter-Piracy Law Enforcement and Human Rights,
59 International and Comparative Law Quarterly, 141, at 143 (2010).
1198 wolff heintschel von heinegg

understood as meaning without undue delay. Accordingly, people

detained on board a warship need not be brought before a judge within
48 hours. Depending on the importance of the operation and the dis-
tance from home individuals suspected of piracy can be detained on
board for several days. In particular, there is no obligation immediately
to transfer them by helicopter to an airport ashore. Of course, during
detention on board the detainees must be treated in accordance with
minimum standards. This does not mean that they must be held in a
cabin inside the warship. The space in the interior of a warship is very
limited. Modern warships have no prison cells. Moreover, sensitive
equipment must be protected against interference. Therefore, the
detainees must, and may be, held on deck, provided fundamental sani-
tary and health standards are properly observed.
Finally, a third problem has been created by the reference to interna-
tional humanitarian law in UN Security Council Resolution 1851.70
It has been concluded that “maritime law enforcement against pirates
should conform to the basic principles of international humanitarian
law …”.71 It is, however, more than doubtful whether the Security
Council indeed intended to subject all counter-piracy operations off
the coast of Somalia to the law of armed conflict. Rather, it follows
from the wording and context that, according to the Council, the law of
armed conflict, if it does so at all, applies to measures taken within
Somalia. The express reference to “applicable international humanitar-
ian law” is to remind States willing to make use of the authorization
that, if the measures taken in Somalia escalate into armed hostilities–
which are to be clearly distinguished from sporadic acts of violence and
from law enforcement–the armed forces are obliged to observe the law
of armed conflict. The consequences are twofold:72 if counter-piracy
operations in Somali territory escalate into an armed conflict (i.e. a
non-international armed conflict), the criminals become lawful mili-
tary targets because they are members of an organized armed group.
Their equipment and their bases may be attacked as lawful military
objectives. If captured the criminals do not enjoy prisoner-of-war sta-
tus and they may be punished because they do not enjoy combatant

70
SC Res. 1851 of 16 December 2008.
71
See E. Alessandri, Report of the Conference “Addressing the Resurgence of Sea
Piracy: Legal, Political and Security Aspects”, at 13 (Rome, 16 June 2009). Available at:
http://www.Iai.it/pdf/DocIAI/iai0916.pdf.
72
See Schmitt/Garraway/Dinstein (note 17), paras. 1.1.2 et seq.
the impact of law on contemporary military operations1199

immunity. Attacks on lawful targets must be carried out with a view to

minimizing as far as feasible any collateral damage. Direct attacks on
civilians are prohibited unless and for such time as they take a direct
part in the hostilities. If, however, the situation cannot be considered
an armed conflict, there is no room for the law of armed conflict. This
certainly holds true for counter-piracy operations at sea. As already
stated, counter-piracy operations on the high seas will not be governed
by the law of–international or non-international–armed conflict.
Accordingly, pirates and armed robbers are not lawful targets who may
be killed on sight. Any use of force against pirates, their ships and their
equipment is subject to the principle of proportionality applicable to
law enforcement operations.

D. Proposed Solutions and Concluding Remarks

Some of the problems identified can be solved rather easily. This cer-
tainly holds true for situations of armed conflict to which international
humanitarian law applies. Very often it will suffice if the applicability of
that law is accepted by recognizing that a situation of–international or
non-international–armed conflict has come into existence. This, how-
ever, presupposes that governments are abundantly clear about the
missions armed forces are regularly tasked with. They should not refuse
openly to confirm that they have come to the conclusion that there is a
need to use armed force, i.e. a need to destroy military objects and neu-
tralize the enemy by the use of deadly force.
This, again, presupposes that governments, unless they are willing to
refrain for good from the use of their armed forces, are to preserve as
far as possible the law of armed conflict and its underlying rationale.
That law is an order of necessity which provides legal rules and princi-
ples despite the fact that governments–and non-State actors–believe
themselves to be compelled to resort to the use of armed force and to
engage in belligerent acts. This does not rule out the progressive devel-
opment of the law of armed conflict, especially by international trea-
ties. However, any amendment, modification or adaptation must be
guided by the approach underlying the 1868 St. Petersburg Declaration
(i.e. to “alleviate as much as possible the calamities of war”) and not by
the (hidden?) wish to abolish armed conflict by the law of armed con-
flict. Moreover, amendments to the law may not result in the introduc-
tion of double standards which will prove impossible to put into
1200 wolff heintschel von heinegg

practice because they are contrary to the principle of reciprocity.

Finally, governments should not too easily give up options for the
future. There is today a widely-held view that, if at all, armed forces will
only participate in combined military operations the legal basis for
which is to be found in applicable UN Security Council resolutions.
Accordingly, governments all too easily agree to the introduction of
ever stricter standards for their armed forces which have been claimed
by those who consider their position to reflect a kind of absolute prin-
ciple of political correctness. Governments should rather take into
consideration the probability that States may well become parties not
only to a non-international armed conflict occurring at a great distance
from home and that in the not too distant future they may also be con-
fronted with other States which are prepared to enforce their national
interests by the use of their military personnel. Therefore, governments
should not give away their prerogative right to shape public interna-
tional law for the mere reason that they believe themselves to be forced
to comply with some form of political correctness which has been
identified and articulated by actors whose legitimacy is more than
doubtful.
As regards human rights law in situations of armed conflict there is
a clear need to clarify the scope of the extraterritorial applicability of
human rights law, its relationship with the law of armed conflict, the
value added by supplementary or complementary applicability, and the
issue of individual claims of compensation. In particular, governments
should not force, e.g., the European Court of Human Rights desper-
ately to seek, and use, arguments enabling it to find it has no jurisdic-
tion. There is a high probability that a joint statement by the member
States of the Council of Europe clarifying these issues would be most
welcomed by the Court because it would certainly add to legal clarity.
Such a joint statement would have the advantage of not constituting a
formal amendment of the European Convention but of merely consti-
tuting subsequent practice of member States which the Court could
take into account when interpreting and applying the Convention.
As regards military operations in situations other than armed con-
flict governments should, again, clarify their understanding of interna-
tional human rights law, especially its relationship with the most
fundamental values in international relations, i.e. international peace
and security. It would certainly not be very helpful if they continued to
pursue the course they took in the past by forcing the European Court
of Human Rights to deny the exercise of national jurisdiction, and thus
the impact of law on contemporary military operations1201

the applicability of the European Convention, using arguments which

have a basis neither in fact nor in law.
Finally, governments must not forget that they have obligations vis-
à-vis their armed forces as well. If they decide to deploy young women
and men to military operations they are obliged to equip them with
everything necessary to enable them to accomplish their mission. One
essential and indispensable element is legal clarity, which today is of
increasing importance. If governments, on the one hand, agree on
criminal international law they must, on the other hand, do everything
feasible clearly to identify the rules applicable to contemporary mili-
tary operations. It is certainly not acceptable if they merely sacrificed
the pawns, i.e. their soldiers, and their legitimate security interests on
the altar of misperceived political correctness.
 Frieden und Friedensvoraussetzungen –
Ihre Gewährleistung durch Staat und
Staatengemeinschaft

Paul Kirchhof

A. Frieden als Bedingung Menschlichen Zusammenlebens

I. Friedenssicherung und Friedensvorkehrungen

Frieden ist Bedingung menschlichen Zusammenlebens, der Gemein­
schaft im Recht, individueller Existenz, persönlicher Sicherheit und
Freiheit. Gemeinschaft ist Grundlage menschlicher Entfaltung. Der
Mensch wird in die Familie von Eltern und Kind hineingeboren,
wächst in eine Gemeinschaft der Sprache, der Nachbarschaft, der
Arbeitsteilung, der Religion und Kultur hinein, hofft auf eine friedli­
che Welt, in der ihm der Staat innere Sicherheit, ein soziales
Existenzminimum, verlässliche Rahmenbedingungen seiner Freiheit
garantiert, der Staat und die Staatengemeinschaft die Friedlichkeit
durch die Staaten und unter den Staaten gewährleisten.
Rüdiger Wolfrum hat einen wesentlichen Teil seines wissenschaftli­
chen Werkes diesem Friedensthema gewidmet. Er deutet den Auftrag
der Vereinten Nationen (VN) im Sinne des positiven Friedensbegriffs,
der nicht nur den Krieg negiert, sondern die internationalen Bezie­
hungen so entwickelt, dass die Gründe für kriegerische Auseinander­
setzungen weniger werden und entfallen.1 Im Ziel der „internationalen
Sicherheit“ betont er die wechselseitige Abhängigkeit von nationaler
und internationaler Sicherheit,2 entfaltet das Konzept der kollektiven
Sicherheit als einem grundsätzlichen Verbot der Gewaltanwendung,
sofern nicht die Gewaltanwendung von dem dafür zuständigen Organ
des Systems genehmigt oder angeordnet wird oder das Recht auf
Selbstverteidigung zur gewaltsamen Gegenwehr berechtigt.3 Hinzu

1
R. Wolfrum, in: B. Simma (Hrsg.), Charta der Vereinten Nationen, Kommentar,
Art. 1 Rn. 5 (1991).
2
Id., Art. 1 Rn. 6.
3
Id., Art. 1 Rn. 7.
1204 paul kirchhof

tritt die friedliche Beilegung von Streitigkeiten, die Gefährdungslagen

vermeidet oder beendet.4
Zugleich verbreitet Rüdiger Wolfrum den Gedanken, die Aufrecht­
erhaltung des Weltfriedens setze neben der Ächtung des Krieges
voraus, dass ein Zustand wirtschaftlicher Stabilität in und zwischen
den Staaten hergestellt wird,5 dass die VN auch um des Friedens willen
den wirtschaftlichen und sozialen Fortschritt und Aufstieg insbeson­
dere in benachteiligten Regionen fördern, zur Lösung internationa­
ler Probleme wirtschaftlicher, sozialer, gesundheitlicher Art beitragen
und Zusammenarbeit auf den Gebieten der Kultur und Erziehung
pflegen.6 Vertiefte Studien zum Umweltrecht,7 zum internationalen
Wirtschaftsrecht,8 zum Weltraumrecht,9 zu Gleichheit, Nichtdiskri­
minierung und Minderheitenschutz10 stellen das Friedenskonzept in

    4
Id., Art. 1 Rn. 11.
    5
Id., Art. 55 (a, b) Rn. 2.
    6
Id., Art. 55 (a, b) Rn. 5 f.
    7
R. Wolfrum, Umweltschutz durch internationales Haftungsrecht, in: Umweltbun­
desamt (Hrsg.), Berichte des Umweltbundesamtes, Band 7/98 (1999); R. Wolfrum,
International Environmental Law: Purposes, Principles and Means of Ensuring
Compliance, in: F.L. Morrison/R. Wolfrum (Hrsg.), International, Regional and
National Environmental Law, 3 (2000); R. Wolfrum, Preservation of the Marine
Environment, in: F.L. Morrison/R. Wolfrum (Hrsg.), International, Regional and
National Environmental Law, 225 (2000); R. Wolfrum, Environmental Protection of
Ice-Covered Regions, in: F.L. Morrison/R. Wolfrum (Hrsg.), International, Regional
and National Environmental Law, 329 (2000); R. Wolfrum, The Protection and
Management of Biological Diversity, in: F.L. Morrison/R. Wolfrum (Hrsg.),
International, Regional and National Environmental Law, 355 (2000); R. Wolfrum,
Internationales Umwelthaftungsrecht: Schaffung einer konsistenten Gesamtkonzeption,
in: Umweltbundesamt (Hrsg.), Texte-Veröffentlichung – Haftung als Instrument des
Umweltschutzes, Band 44, 25 (2003).
    8
R. Wolfrum, Agreement Establishing the World Trade Organization, Article IX
WTO Agreement, in: K. Kaiser/P.-T. Stoll/R. Wolfrum (Hrsg.), WTO–Institutions
and Dispute Settlement, 106 (2006); R. Wolfrum, WTO–Trade in Services (2008);
R. Wolfrum, Article II GATS, in: R. Wolfrum/P.-T. Stoll/C. Feinäugle (Hrsg.), Trade
in Services, Max Planck Commentaries on World Trade Law, Vol. 6, 71 (2008);
R. Wolfrum, Annex on Article II GATS Exemptions, in: R. Wolfrum/P.-T. Stoll/
C. Feinäugle (Hrsg.), Trade in Services, Max Planck Commentaries on World Trade
Law, Vol. 6, 569 (2008).
    9
R. Wolfrum, Weltraumpolitik der Vereinten Nationen, in: K. Kaiser/S. v. Welck
(Hrsg.), Weltraum und internationale Politik, 451 (1987); R. Wolfrum, Einzelne Formen
der Nutzung des Weltraums (Geostationäre Umlaufbahn, Telekommunikation, Direct-
Broadcasting-Satellites, Navigations- und Notfunksatelliten, Wetterbeobachtungssa­
telliten), in: K.-H. Böckstiegel (Hrsg.), Handbuch des Weltraumrechts, 351 (1991).
10
R. Wolfrum, Gleichheit und Nichtdiskriminierung im nationalen und inter­
nationalen Menschenrechtsschutz, in: R. Wolfrum (Hrsg.), Beiträge zum ausländi­
schen öffentlichen Recht und Völkerrecht, Band 165, 299 (2003); R. Wolfrum,
Minderheitenschutz in Europa – Die staatsrechtliche Situation am Beispiel einzelner
 frieden und friedensvoraussetzungen1205

einen Sach- und Sinnzusammenhang mit Teilrechtsbereichen, die

in ihrer materiellen Ausgewogenheit, ihrem verfahrensschonenden
Ausgleich und der Verrechtlichung von Rechtsbeziehungen zwischen
Staaten und Menschen Frieden wahren und Frieden schaffen.
Als Wissenschaftler und als Richter – zeitweilig auch als Präsident –
des Internationalen Seerechtsgerichtshofes hat Rüdiger Wolfrum frie­
densstiftendes und friedenswahrendes Recht in seinem Entstehen
und seiner Entwicklung begleitet und geformt. Vielfach – in jüngster
Zeit in der Mongolei und in dem Sudan – hat er aktiv gestaltend an der
Entwicklung einer innerstaatlichen Friedensordnung mitgewirkt.

II. Die Garanten des Friedens

Der Staat leitet seine „eigentliche und letzte Rechtfertigung“ aus sei­
ner Aufgabe als „verfasste Friedens- und Ordnungsmacht“, aus der
„von ihm zu gewährleistenden Sicherheit seiner Bevölkerung“ ab.11
Der Schutz der „öffentlichen Sicherheit und Ordnung“ insbesondere
durch die Polizei und durch die Strafjustiz gewährleistet eine innere
Sicherheit,12 die letztlich auf die Rechtstreue und Friedensbereitschaft
des einzelnen Menschen aufbaut, den Frieden also umfassend – vom
Erziehungsauftrag des Elternhauses und der Schulen bis zur staatli­
chen Friedensgewähr durch Gewaltmonopol, Gefahrenabwehr und
Gefahrenvorsorge, sozialstaatlicher Existenzsicherung und Krisenver­
sicherung bis zur Garantie des Rechts – zu stützen, zu organisieren und
zu wahren sucht. Doch der pädagogische Auftrag der Friedenssicherung,
das rechtlich ungeschriebene Schutzgut der „öffentlichen Ordnung“,

ausgewählter Staaten-Gutachten, erstellt im Auftrag des Schleswig-Holsteinischen

Landtages, in: Präsidentin des Schleswig-Holsteinischen Landtages (Hrsg.), Minder­
heiten in Europa, Landtagsforum am 7. Juni 1991, 121 (1991); R. Wolfrum, The Legal
Status of Minorities in South-Eastern Europe, in: R. Lefeber/M. Fitzmaurice/
E.W. Vierdag (Hrsg.), The Changing Political Structure of Europe, 131 (1991);
R. Wolfrum, Völker- und europarechtliche Bestimmungen zum Schutze von
Ausländern. Bürger unterschiedlichen Rechts – aber nicht rechtlos, Das Parlament,
43. Jg./Nr. 2–3, 8./15. Januar 1993, 7; R. Wolfrum, Der völkerrechtliche Schutz
religiöser Minderheiten und ihrer Mitglieder, in: R. Grote/T. Marauhn (Hrsg.),
Religionsfreiheit zwischen individueller Selbstbestimmung, Minderheitenschutz und
Staatskirchenrecht – Völker- und verfassungsrechtliche Perspektiven, Beiträge zum
ausländischen öffentlichen Recht und Völkerrecht, Band 146, 53 (2001); R. Wolfrum,
Kulturelle Rechte und Minderheitenschutz, in: D. Merten/H.-J. Papier (Hrsg.),
Handbuch der Grundrechte in Deutschland und Europa, Band VI, 255 (2010).
11
BVerfGE 49, 24 (56 f.).
12
V. Götz, Innere Sicherheit, in: J. Isensee/P. Kirchhof (Hrsg.), Handbuch des
Staatsrecht, Band IV, § 85, Rn. 3 f. (3. Aufl. 2006).
1206 paul kirchhof

der generalklauselartige Auftrag der Gefahrenabwehr und Gefahren­

vorsorge zeigen, dass Friedlichkeit mehr ist als die Beachtung des
Rechts. Friedlichkeit ist eine allgemeine Begegnungsform, die auf
Verstehen und Verständigung, auf die sprachliche statt der gewaltsa­
men Auseinandersetzung, auf Verhältnismäßigkeit und schonenden
Ausgleich setzt. Frieden baut auf Moral, Ethos und Recht, auf
das Zusammenwirken von ethischer Normsetzung und ethischem
Normenvollzug, auf die Ethik als „Rechtfertigungsdisziplin“, die
Moral als das empirisch erfassbare, real verhaltensleitende normative
Überzeugungssystem und das Recht, das im wesentlichen in der
Autorität des Staates verbindliche Verhaltensregeln setzt.13 Frieden
beginnt in den gemeinsamen Wertvorstellungen der Menschen, ihrer
Verfestigung und Verstetigung in der Staatsverfassung und dem
Verfassungsstaat, in der Verallgemeinerung elementarer Pflichten des
Gewaltverzichts und der Verständigung in der Völkerrechtsgemein­
schaft. Die wechselseitige Bedingtheit von Recht und Rechtsvoraus­
setzungen wird hier unmittelbar greifbar.14
Die Souveränität des Staates ist geschaffen worden, um eine oberste
Macht beim Fürsten zu konzentrieren, der die Bürgerkriege zu been­
den hatte, die in Frankreich und England als Folge der Religionsspaltung
ausgebrochen waren. Der Fürst konnte diese Aufgabe nur erfüllen,
wenn er mehr Macht besaß als alle denkbaren Koalitionen verschiede­
ner gesellschaftlicher Gruppen. Er konnte seine Mittlerfunktion
zwischen diesen Gruppen nur ausüben, wenn er religiös und weltan­
schaulich neutral war, die religiöse Wahrheitsfrage offen ließ und in
dieser Offenheit Frieden garantiert. Der Souverän beanspruchte das
Gewaltmonopol, insbesondere für Armee und Polizei, und begründete
das Friedensgebot, aus dem zunächst das Verbot des Duells und des
Waffentragens folgte.15
Aus dem Grundsatz der inneren Souveränität folgt sodann derje­
nige der äußeren. Wenn alle Staaten der Welt gleich souverän sind, ist
keiner dem anderen Staat untergeordnet. Diese äußere Souveränität
veranlasste letztlich ein modernes Völkerrecht und eine Völkerrechts­
gemeinschaft, die nun die Einheit der europäischen Rechtsordnung,

13
Vgl. S. Vöneky, Recht, Moral und Ethik, 25 f., 39 f., 94 f. (2010).
14
Vgl. erneut id., eine von Rüdiger Wolfrum betreute Habilitationsschrift.
15
A. Bleckmann, in: Simma (Fn. 1), Art. 2 Ziffer 1 Rn. 8 f.; zu den historischen
Ursprüngen: T. Hobbes, Elementa philosophica de cive, cap. 6,3 (1642); J. Locke, Two
Treatises of Government (1690).
 frieden und friedensvoraussetzungen1207

die Kaiser und Kirche nicht mehr gewährleisten konnten, neu begrün­
den und festigen sollte.16 Dabei war diese Souveränität nie eine die
Staaten voneinander abschirmende Hoheitsgewalt, sondern stets auf
vertragliche Verständigung, auf wirtschaftliche Zusammenarbeit, auf
Gemeinsamkeiten des Römischen Rechts oder der Hanse, auf die
Familienbande des europäischen Adels angelegt. Dieser Souveräni­
tätsgedanke steht nunmehr in einer völkerrechtlich geprägten
Staatengemeinschaft vor einer neuen Aufgabe. In dieser Offenheit
der Staaten für ein staatenübergreifendes Recht, damit für die
Weiterentwicklung der Souveränität in eine Gemeinschaftsordnung
der Staaten, wurzeln Anspruch, Rechtfertigung und Faszination völ­
kerrechtlicher Friedensgewähr.

III. Aktuelle Anfragen an das Recht

1. Verschiebungen realer Mächtigkeiten
Diese klassische Friedensordnung der Moderne ist gegenwärtig
neuartigen Fragestellungen ausgesetzt. Die VN können sich heute
nicht mehr in herkömmlicher Verlässlichkeit auf eine weltweit wir­
kende Friedensgarantie der Vereinigten Staaten – eine pax americana –
stützen. China scheint seinen unauffälligen Weg stetig wachsender
Wirtschaftskraft, zunehmenden ökonomischen und politischen Ein­
flusses, einer spürbaren Kapitalmacht auch in der amerikanischen
Wirtschaft durch einen Machtanspruch der Ersichtlichkeit, in diesem
Ziel vielleicht auch gewollter Provokationen, ersetzen zu wollen.
Der internationale Finanzmarkt übt eine rechtlich nicht geformte
und kaum gebändigte Macht über Staaten und Menschen aus, bringt
die Kreditnehmer in Abhängigkeit und lenkt insbesondere auch über­
schuldete Staaten, die auf neue Kredite und die Verlängerung ihrer
Altkredite angewiesen sind. Der demokratische Staat gestaltet weniger
durch das Setzen und Durchsetzen von Recht, sondern sucht die
Menschen durch Versprechungen und Werbung zu beeinflussen, stellt
dabei immer mehr Staatsleistungen in Aussicht, zu der das Staatsvolk
seinen Staat nicht durch hinreichende Steuerzahlung befähigt, greift
auf den Staatskredit zurück, begibt sich so in Abhängigkeit vom
Finanzmarkt und belastet die nachfolgenden Generationen durch
Vorgriff auf deren Steuerkraft. Die Gestaltungskraft des staatlichen

16
Bleckmann, id., 13 f.
1208 paul kirchhof

Rechts und seines Friedensgehalts wird schwächer, gerät teilweise in

den Sog der Erwerbsprinzipien des Finanzmarktes. Der Staat verliert
ein Stück an Souveränität, damit an Kraft zum Frieden.
Der internationale Terrorismus entwickelt eine neue Form der
Kriegsführung, in der nicht Staaten und Streitkräfte sichtbar gegenein­
ander stehen, sondern Attentäter überraschend aus der Unsichtbarkeit
heraustreten, Menschen töten und zivile Objekte zerstören, sich
dabei durch Suizid selbst aufgeben, also durch das Recht und seine
Sanktionen – selbst wenn diese in einer Todesstrafe bestünde – nicht
erreichbar sind. Diese Angriffe sind nur zu vermeiden, wenn die
Friedenspolitik eine gemeinsame Moral entwickelt, nach der kein Ziel
die Tötung des Menschen rechtfertigt, eine Empörung über Staats-
oder Wirtschaftsstrukturen nicht in Hass ausarten darf, die Humanität
jedem Menschen in der Welt eine Mindestexistenz und Mindestsi­
cherheit garantiert. Staatliche und überstaatliche Friedenspolitik mün­
det erst in zweiter Linie in Gesetz und Vertrag, schafft vorrangig ein
gemeinsames Bewusstsein von Friedlichkeit und gegenseitiger
Verantwortung unter den Menschen. Dies ist nicht ein moralisches
Postulat, das von der Politik in der alltäglichen Härte belächelt werden
mag, sondern der alleinige Weg, um Terrorismus und Krieg vorbeu­
gend zu vermeiden.

2. Menschenrechtsschutz bei Untätigkeit von Staat und Sicherheitsrat

Institutionell trägt „die Hauptverantwortung für die Wahrung des
Weltfriedens und der internationalen Sicherheit“ nach Art. 24 VN-
Charta der Sicherheitsrat, der eine Bedrohung oder den Bruch des
Friedens oder eine Angriffshandlung feststellt, über die notwendi­
gen Maßnahmen beschließt und als ultima ratio auch zu einem
militärischen Eingriff ermächtigt (Art. 39 VN-Charta). Doch diese
Schutzverantwortung ist keine Schutzpflicht, setzt vielmehr die
Entscheidung der zuständigen Gremien über die Bereitschaft und
Fähigkeit zum Schutz voraus. Als im Jahre 1994 innerhalb von 100
Tagen 800.000 Menschen in Ruanda auf grausame Weise getötet wur­
den, hat die Völkerrechtsgemeinschaft die Bevölkerung Ruandas
nicht wirksam geschützt.17 Der Sicherheitsrat blieb untätig, obwohl

17
Carlsson Report, Report of the Independent Inquiry into the Actions of the
United Nations during the 1994 genocide in Rwanda, UN Doc. S/1999/1257 vom
16.12.1999.
 frieden und friedensvoraussetzungen1209

das Sekretariat der VN und zumindest einige Mitglieder des

Sicherheitsrates Kenntnis von den bevorstehenden Gräueltaten hatten
und VN-Truppen – wenn auch nicht in ausreichender Zahl – vor Ort
waren.18
Im Juni 1995 eroberten Truppen bosnischer Serben Srebrenica,19
obwohl der Sicherheitsrat die Enklave zu einer Schutzzone insbeson­
dere für die Zivilbevölkerung erklärt hatte, die frei von bewaffneten
Angriffen bleiben musste.20 Die Truppen deportierten etwa 25.000 dort
lebende bosnische Muslime und ermordeten zwischen 7.000 und 8.000
Menschen.21 Selbst bei diesen elementaren Menschenrechtsverletzun­
gen haben die VN ihre völkerrechtliche Schutzverantwortung nicht
wahrgenommen.22
Um derartige elementare Menschenrechtsverletzungen zu verhin­
dern, stellte der Generalsekretär der VN, Kofi Annan, im Jahr 2000
der Generalversammlung die Frage, wie auf schwerwiegende und
planmäßige Menschenrechtsverletzungen reagiert werden solle,
wenn eine humanitär gebotene Intervention auf eine rechtlich garan­
tierte Souveränität trifft. Die internationale Gemeinschaft trage eine
Schutzverantwortung, wenn weltweit anerkannte, elementare Mens­
chenrechte wiederholt planmäßig verletzt würden. Die Souveränität
der Staaten dürfe nicht als Schutzschild bei schwerwiegenden
Menschenrechtsverletzungen dienen.23 Der staatlichen Souveränität ist
der Schutz der Menschenrechte eigen. Die Souveränität als
Verantwortung stärkt die Souveränität der Staaten, weist aber der
internationalen Gemeinschaft – grundsätzlich dem Sicherheitsrat –
eine subsidiäre Schutzverantwortung zu, wenn ein Staat seine
Bevölkerung nicht vor schwerwiegenden Menschenrechtsverletzungen
schützen kann oder will.24

18
Report of the International Commission on Intervention and State Souvereignty,
The Responsibility to Protect, 1 (ICISS-Bericht 2001).
19
Vgl. Urteil des Internationalen Strafgerichtshofs für das ehemalige Jugoslawien,
Prosecutor v. Radislav Krstic, Case No. IT-98-33-T vom 2.8.2001, Abschnitt 31 f.
20
Resolution des Sicherheitsrats SC Res. 819 vom 16.4.1993.
21
 Urteil des Internationalen Strafgerichtshofs (Fn. 19), Abschnitt 53 f.
22
Vgl. im einzelnen die Darstellung und Analyse bei C. Kreuter-Kirchhof,
Völkerrechtliche Schutzverantwortung bei elementaren Menschenrechtsverletzungen,
Archiv des Völkerrechts, Band 48, 338 f. (2010).
23
Bericht des Generalsekretärs über die Tätigkeit der VN vom 30.8.2000. UN
Doc. A/55/1 Abschnitt 37; vgl. auch die Rede Annans anlässlich der Verleihung des
Friedensnobelpreises am 10.12.2001 in Oslo. Dazu Kreuter-Kirchhof, id., 339 f.
24
Vgl. im einzelnen Kreuter-Kirchhof, id., 340 f.
1210 paul kirchhof

Ende 2003 berief Annan das „High-Level Panel on Threats,

Challenges and Change“ (HLP) ein, das die VN reformieren sollte.25
Dessen Souveränitätsverständnis geht noch über das der ICISS
hinaus. Die Charta der VN schütze die Staaten, weil sie „notwendig
sind, die Würde, die Gerechtigkeit, den Wert und die Sicherheit ihrer
Staatsangehörigen“ zu garantieren.26 Diese Verantwortung trifft jeden
Staat gegenüber der eigenen Bevölkerung, aber auch gegenüber der
internationalen Gemeinschaft.27 Die internationale Gemeinschaft trifft
subsidiär eine kollektive internationale Schutzverantwortung, die ihren
Grund im System kollektiver Sicherheit seinerseits auf gemeinsame
Werte stützt.28 Der Weltgipfel der VN begrenzte im Jahr 2005 diese
internationale Schutzverantwortung auf bestimmte schwerwiegende
völkerrechtliche Verbrechen und bestätigte damit das zugrundliegende
wertgebundene Souveränitätsverständnis.29 Die Generalversammlung
stellte klar, dass dem Sicherheitsrat die Aufgabe obliege, diese
Schutzverantwortung im Einzelfall wirksam werden zu lassen. Offen
blieb die drängende und bedrängende Anfrage an das internationale
Friedensrecht, ob unilaterale Interventionen zum Schutz elementarer
Menschenrechte auch ohne Autorisierung durch den Sicherheitsrat
zulässig sein könnten.30 Doch bietet der Weltgipfel bereits Grundlagen
für eine gemeinsame Rechtsverantwortung. Neues Recht bahnt sich
an.31 Rüdiger Wolfrum, der Wandel und Entwicklung der VN ständig
mit Analysen, Wegweisungen und Erneuerungsvorschlägen ­begleitet,32

25
Report of the High-Level Panel on Threats, Challenges and Change, A more
secure world: our shared responsibility, 2.12.2004, UN Doc. A/59/565, Abschnitt 199 f.
26
HLP-Bericht, id., Abschnitt 30.
27
HLP-Bericht, id., Abschnitt 201.
28
HLP-Bericht, id., Abschnitt 203, Abschnitt 30.
29
Resolution der Generalversammlung, 2005, World Summit Outcome, UN Doc.
A/Res./60/1 v. 24.10.2005.
30
Bericht des Generalsekretärs, In larger freedom: towards development, security
and human rights for all, 21.3.2005, UN Doc. A/59/2005 (Annan Bericht), Abschnitt
106.
31
 Zu den weiteren Entwicklungen und Folgerungen Kreuter-Kirchhof, (Fn. 22),
347 f.
32
R. Wolfrum, Ursprüngliche Aufgabenzuweisung und jetzige Aktivitäten der
Vereinten Nationen: Faktischer Wandel und normative Bewertung, in: Ders. (Hrsg.),
Die Reform der Vereinten Nationen: Möglichkeiten und Grenzen, 129 ff. (1989);
R. Wolfrum, Aufgaben der UN nach Art. 55 der Charta – weitreichende Ansätze und
eingeschränkter Handlungsspielraum, in: Deutschen Gesellschaft für die Vereinten
Nationen (Hrsg.), Strukturreform der UN? Notwendigkeit, Ansätze und Handlungs­
spielraum einer Reform der Vereinten Nationen im Bereich der wirtschaftlichen
Zusammenarbeit, Reihe Dokumentationen, Informationen, Meinungen, Nr. 42, 11 ff.
 frieden und friedensvoraussetzungen1211

wird dieses Entstehen von Wertvorstellungen, aus denen sich Moral

und dann Recht bilden kann, sorgfältig beobachten.

B. Die Schutzpflicht des Staates

I. Rechtfertigung und Auftrag des Staates

Der Staat rechtfertigt seine Existenz primär aus dem von ihm gewähr­
ten Schutz für seine Bevölkerung.33 „Securitas“ war bereits das ideale
Ziel guter Regierung in der mittelalterlichen italienischen
Stadtrepublik.34 Bei Thomas Hobbes ist der Staat diejenige Vereinigung,
der sich die Menschen zur Erhaltung des Friedens und zum gemein­
samen Schutz unterworfen haben.35 John Locke36 verbindet das
Sicherheits- mit dem Freiheitsziel, unterstellt den Sicherheit gewähren­
den Staat den Bindungen des Rechts und begrenzt damit die staatliche
Macht.37 In der liberalen Staatstheorie des ausgehenden 18. und begin­
nenden 19. Jahrhunderts gewinnt die Idee individueller Freiheit aus
dem staatlichen Sicherheitszweck ihre Gewährleistungsgrundlage: Die
Begrenzung des Staates auf die Sicherheitsgewähr bietet die verlässli­
che rechtliche Grundlage für individuelle Freiheit.38 Sicherheit wird
zur „Gewissheit der gesetzmäßigen Freiheit“.39
Die Freiheit des Menschen setzt – wie bei den Beratungen der
Französischen Nationalversammlung über den Entwurf der Erklärung
der Menschen- und Bürgerrechte gesagt wurde – den Schutz gegen
drei Feinde voraus: Die übelwollenden Bürger, die durch Gesetz und
Rechtspflege in ihre Schranken gewiesen werden; die einzelnen
Amtsträger, die Behörden und der Staatsapparat insgesamt, deren
Willkür durch eine gute Verfassung gebannt werden muss; und den

(1992); R. Wolfrum, Die Reform der Friedensmissionen der Vereinten Nationen und
ihre Umsetzung nach deutschem Verfassungsrecht, 62 Zeitung für ausländisches
öffentliches Recht und Völkerrecht, 570 (2002).
33
Annan-Bericht (Fn. 30), Abschnitt 135.
34
W. Brugger, Gewährleistung von Sicherheit und Freiheit, 63 Veröffentlichungen
der Vereinigung der Deutschen Staatsrechtslehrer 101, 103 (2004).
35
Hobbes (Fn. 15), cap. 6,3.
36
 Locke (Fn. 15).
37
 Götz (Fn. 12), § 85, Rn. 19 (3. Aufl. 2006).
38
Vgl. G. Robbers, Sicherheit als Menschenrecht, 106 f. (1987).
39
W. v. Humboldt, Ideen zu einem Versuch, die Gränzen der Wirksamkeit des
Staats zu bestimmen, 100 f. (1792), 1851.
1212 paul kirchhof

auswärtigen Feind, gegen dessen Angriffe eine Armee verteidigt.40 Der

Mensch ist also durch seine Mitmenschen, die Gewalt seines eigenen
Staates und durch fremde Mächte bedroht. Garant der Sicherheit gegen
diese drei Gefährdungen ist der Verfassungsstaat. Zusammenhalt und
Zugehörigkeit kommen zunächst im Dreiklang Freiheit, Gleichheit,
Brüderlichkeit zum Ausdruck.41
Dabei bezeichnet die „Brüderlichkeit“ anfangs eine Zusammenge­
hörigkeit ohne jede Aggressivität, wird erst später zum ausgrenzenden
Begriff, der Menschen in zugehörige und fremde, in gute und böse
aufteilte.42 In den Verfassungen der frühen Demokratien tritt dann
der bis heute bestimmende Begriff der „Sicherheit“ an die Stelle der
Brüderlichkeit. Die Erklärung der Menschen- und Bürgerrechte vom
26.8.1789 stellt in Artikel 1 fest, die Menschen werden „frei und gleich
an Rechten geboren und bleiben es“. Nach Artikel 2 ist „der Endzweck
aller politischen Gesellschaft“ „die Erhaltung der natürlichen und
unverjährbaren Menschenrechte. Diese Rechte sind die Freiheit, das
Eigentum, die Sicherheit, der Widerstand gegen Unterdrückung.“43
Die Verfassung der Französischen Republik vom 24. Juni 1793 ver­
bürgt jedem Menschen „Gleichheit, Freiheit, Sicherheit, Eigentum“.44
Die Verfassung von 1775 garantiert in den Artikel 1 bis 4 Freiheit und
Gleichheit, sagt sodann: „Die Sicherheit fließt aus der Mitwirkung
Aller, um jedem seine Rechte zu sichern“.45 Die Bill of Rights vom
12. Juni 1776 sieht die beste Regierung in demjenigen, der im Stande
ist, den höchsten Grad von Glück und Sicherheit hervorzubringen.46

40
 E.J. Sieyès, Préliminaire de la Constitution. Reconnaissance et Exposition raison­
née des Droits de l’Homme et du Citoyen (1789), übersetzt in: E. Schmitt/R. Reichardt
(Hrsg.), Emmanuel Joseph Sieyès. Politische Schriften 1788–1790, 239, 248 (2. Aufl.
1981).
41
 M. Ozouf, Brüderlichkeit, in: F. Furet/M. Ozouf (Hrsg.), Kritisches Wörterbuch
der Französischen Revolution, Band II, 1037 ff. (1996); zu deren Darstellung 1038; zur
Utopie der Stadt der Bruderliebe 1042.
42
Id., 1037, 1042.
43
 Die Erklärung der Rechte des Menschen und des Bürgers vom 26.8.1789 wird
als Präambel der Verfassung vom 3. September 1791 verstanden, sie ist übersetzt in:
D. Gosewinkel/J. Masing (Hrsg.), Die Verfassung in Europa 1789–1949, 165 ff. (2006).
44
 Zur Verfassung der Französischen Republik vom 24. Juni 1793 vgl. die
Übersetzung in: D. Gosewinkel/J. Masing (Hrsg.), Die Verfassung in Europa 1789–
1949, 193 ff. (2006), hier insbesondere Art. 1 und 2.
45
 Zu den Artikeln 1 bis 4 der Verfassung der Französischen Republik vom 5.
Fructidor III (22. August 1795) vgl. die Übersetzung in: D. Gosewinkel/J. Masing
(Hrsg.), Die Verfassung in Europa 1789–1949, 206 (2006); vgl. im übrigen auch
Section 1 Virginia Declaration of Rights (1776).
46
 Zur den Qualitätsmerkmalen Glücks- und Sicherheitsgewähr für eine Regierung
vgl. Section 3 der Virginia Declaration of Rights vom 12. Juni 1776, abgedruckt in:
 frieden und friedensvoraussetzungen1213

Als Preis für die staatlich gewährte Sicherheit tauscht der Mensch seine
Freiheit in ein Freiheitsrecht ein, bindet seinen Willen zur Beliebigkeit
in friedenswahrenden Rechten.47 Sicherheit setzt auch die Grundpflicht
voraus, Abgaben und persönliche Dienstleistungen zu erbringen.48 Im
Staatsvertrag gewinnt der Bürger den Schutz der Gemeinschaft, gibt
aber auch einen Teil seiner natürlichen Rechte auf, weil nur so gemein­
same Sicherheit zu erreichen ist.49
Im Ergebnis begegnen sich der Gedanke des Verfassungsstaates50
und die völkerrechtliche Rechtfertigung des Staates51 in der Zusam­
mengehörigkeit von Staat und Schutzverantwortung. Ein Staat, der
seine Bevölkerung nicht schützt, verliert seine Staatsgewalt und seine
Rechtfertigung. Eine Schutzverantwortung, die nicht primär den Staat
in Pflicht nimmt, verfehlt im Pluriversum von rund 200 Staaten ihren
Gewährleistungsgaranten.

II. Der ursprünglich gewollte, später praktizierte

Sicherheitsbeitrag Deutschlands
1. Die Entwicklung des Grundgesetzes
Wenn der Schutzauftrag des Staates von Anfang an in drei Richtungen
weist – den Angriff durch einen anderen Menschen, den ­rechtswidrigen
Eingriff durch den Staat und die Bedrohung durch andere Staaten –,

W.F. Swindler (Hrsg.), Sources and Documents of United States Constitutions, Band
10, 48, 49 (1979), zum Recht auf Sicherheit in den frühen Verfassungen ferner:
G. Robbers, Sicherheit als Menschenrecht, 51 ff. (1987); J. Isensee, Das Grundrecht als
Abwehrrecht und staatliche Schutzpflicht, in: J. Isensee/P. Kirchhof (Hrsg.), Handbuch
des Staatsrechts, Band V, § 111 Rn. 25, (2. Aufl. 2000).
47
 Zu den frühen, den Genuss des Lebens, die Freiheit und das Eigentum garantie­
renden Verfassungen vgl. Part I–The Bill of Rights, Art. I, No. XII der Verfassung von
New Hampshire vom 2. Juni 1784, abgedruckt in: W. F. Swindler (Hrsg.), Sources and
Documents of United States Constitutions, Band 6, 342, 345 (1976); Section 1 der
Virginia Declaration of Rights vom 12. Juni 1776, abgedruckt in: W. F. Swindler (Hrsg.),
id., Band 10, 48, 49 (1979); Chapter I, Art. IX der Verfassung von Vermont vom 8. Juli
1777, abgedruckt in: W. F. Swindler (Hrsg.), id., Band 9, 487, 490 (1979); Part I, Art. X
der Verfassung von Massachusetts vom 25. Oktober 1780, abgedruckt in: W. F. Swindler
(Hrsg.), id., Band 5, 92, 94 (1975); hierzu J. Isensee, Das Grundrecht als Abwehrrecht
und staatliche Schutzpflicht, in: J. Isensee/P. Kirchhof (Hrsg.), Handbuch des
Staatsrechts, Band V, § 111 Rn. 25 (2. Aufl. 2000).
48
 Zur Steuer als Preis für die staatliche Schutzfunktion vgl. F. K. Mann,
Steuerpolitische Ideale, 105 (1937, Nachdruck 1978).
49
 Zur Philosophie des Staatsvertrags vgl. J. Isensee, Das Grundrecht als Abwehrrecht
und staatliche Schutzpflicht, in: J. Isensee/P. Kirchhof (Hrsg.), Handbuch des
Staatsrechts, Band V, § 111 Rn. 25 (2. Aufl. 2000).
50
 Dazu Götz, a.a.O. § 85, Rn. 24 f.
51
Annan-Bericht (Fn. 30), Abschnitt 135.
1214 paul kirchhof

ist jede dieser dreidimensionalen Schutz- und Friedenspflichten für

den Staat konstitutiv. Dies gilt auch für einen Staat wie die
Bundesrepublik Deutschland in ihren frühen Anfängen, die unter
Besatzungshoheit stand, das Aufstellen von Streitkräften nicht in
Betracht ziehen durfte, damit von einem staatlichen Recht zur militäri­
schen Selbstverteidigung keinen Gebrauch machen konnte.
Schon der Herrenchiemseer Konvent suchte bei dem Entwurf
des Grundgesetzes nach einer Rechtsfigur, die trotz weitgehender
Souveränitätsbeschränkungen eine Verteidigung des eigenen Staates
gegen fremde Angriffe erlaubt. Ein System gegenseitiger kollektiver
Sicherheit sollte der Bundesrepublik ihre Wehrlosigkeit nehmen und
die Chance zur gleichberechtigten Mitwirkung in einer zwischenstaat­
lichen Einrichtung eröffnen.52
Die wehrrechtliche Grundgesetznovelle 1954 spricht bereits aus­
drücklich von der „Verteidigung“ der Bundesrepublik.53 Die im
Grundgesetz niedergelegten Grundrechte und Grundfreiheiten des
Menschen im deutschen Staat schlössen auch den Willen und die
Pflicht zum Schutz und letztlich zur militärischen Verteidigung dieser
Rechte und Freiheiten in sich.54 Das Bemühen um den Wiederaufbau
des Staates erscheine sinnlos, wenn der Staat nicht bereit wäre, sich im
Ernstfall zu verteidigen und dafür rechtzeitig alle Vorbereitungen zu
treffen.55 Die deutschen Streitkräfte müssten zwar, da sie allein zu
schwach seien, Verbündete suchen und finden, dürften aber nach
Art. 26 GG nur zu Verteidigungszwecken geschaffen werden.56 Das
noch nicht wiedervereinigte Deutschland dürfe zwar – nach damaliger
Auffassung – nicht in das Sicherheitssystem der VN eingegliedert wer­
den, müsse aber das zur Verteidigung Nötige und Mögliche tun, um
echte Sicherheitschancen zu gewinnen, die Wiederherstellung der
Einheit Deutschlands nicht zu gefährden und der Bundesrepublik die
echte Gleichberechtigung unter den Staaten zu geben.57

52
Stenografisches Wortprotokoll der 22. Sitzung des Ausschusses für Grundsatz­
fragen vom 18.11.1948, abgedruckt in: Der Parlamentarische Rat, 1948–1949, Akten
und Protokolle. Band 5/II: Ausschuss für Grundsatzfragen, Dok. Nr. 29, S. 584 f.,
592 f., 597 f. (2. Aufl. 2000).
53
Art. 73 Nr. 1, 79 Abs. 1 Satz 2 GG in der Fassung des 4. Gesetzes zur Änderung
des Grundgesetzes vom 26.3.1954, BGBl I, 45.
54
 Der Abg. Gerstenmaier, 17. Sitzung des Zweiten Deutschen Bundestages vom
26.2.1954 (Beratungen zu Art. 73 Nr. 1 GG), Stenografische Protokolle, 556 B.
55
 Der Abg. Zcermak, id., 568 D.
56
 Der Abg. Zcermak, id., 568 D, 556 D.
57
 Der Abg. Carlo Schmid, id., 572 B.
 frieden und friedensvoraussetzungen1215

Die wehrrechtliche Novellierung des Grundgesetzes 195658 sieht die

Verteidigungsaufgabe nicht nur in der Selbstverteidigung der Bundes­
republik Deutschland in einer Bündnisverpflichtung, sondern erstreckt
sich auch auf den Fall, dass die Bundesrepublik sich beim Angriff auf
ein befreundetes Land zur Hilfe moralisch verpflichtet fühlt.59
Mit dem durch die Grundgesetzergänzung vom 19. März 195660
eingefügten Art. 87 a GG erhält der Bund die Exekutivkompetenz,
„Streitkräfte zur Verteidigung“ aufzustellen. Diese Kompetenz- und
Befugnisnorm ermächtigt zum Aufstellen und zum Einsatz der Streit­
kräfte für Verteidigungszwecke. Das 17. Gesetz zur Ergänzung des
Grundgesetzes vom 24. Juni 196861 – die „Notstandsverfassung“ – fügte
dem Art. 87 a GG einen Absatz 2 hinzu, nach dem die Streitkräfte
„außer zur Verteidigung“ nur eingesetzt werden dürfen, soweit dieses
Grundgesetz es ausdrücklich zulässt. Zur Wahrnehmung des „orginä­
ren“, militärischen Verteidigungsauftrags treten die ausnahmsweise zu
erfüllenden sonstigen, an sich polizeilichen Aufgaben, wie sie insbe­
sondere Art. 87 a Abs. 3 und 4 GG im äußeren und inneren Notstand
vorsehen.62 Die Verteidigungsbefugnis ist begrenzt durch das Verteidi­
gungsziel, das den Angriffskrieg verbietet (Art. 26 Abs. 1 Satz 1 GG),
durch das Verteidigungsobjekt der Bundesrepublik Deutschland sowie
der Bündnispartner und Drittländer nach Art. 24, 79, 80 a Abs. 3 GG.63

2. Rechtsfortbildung durch das Bundesverfassungsgericht

a. Mitgliedschaft und Mitgliederpflichten
Das Grundgesetz drängt somit auf mehr militärische Pflichten und
Befugnisse der deutschen Streitkräfte, als damals außenpolitisch

58
 Gesetz zur Änderung des Grundgesetzes vom 19.3.1956, BGBl I, 111.
59
Vgl. den Generalbericht des Ausschusses für Auswärtige Angelegenheiten
zum Entwurf eines Gesetzes betreffend den Beitritt der Bundesrepublik Deutschland
zum Brüsseler Vertrag und zum Nordatlantikvertrag, Generalberichterstatter der Abg.
Willi Brandt, BT-Drs. III/1061, 44; der Abg. Jaeger, 107. Sitzung des Ausschusses
für Rechtswesen im Verfassungsrecht vom 8.2.1956, Stenografische Protokolle,
Nr. 107, 34.
60
BGBl I, 111.
61
BGBl I, 709.
62
K. Ipsen, Der Einsatz der Bundeswehr zur Verteidigung im Spannungs- und
Verteidigungsfall sowie im internen bewaffneten Konflikt, in: K.D. Schwarz (Hrsg.),
Sicherheitspolitik, 615, 625 (3. Aufl. 1978); F. Kirchhof, Verteidigung und Bundeswehr,
in: J. Isensee/P. Kirchhof, Handbuch des Staatsrechts, Band IV, § 84, Rn. 49 f. (3. Aufl.
2006).
63
F. Kirchhof, id., § 84, Rn. 51 f.; zum Einsatz außerhalb der Verteidigung id., Rn.
54 f.
1216 paul kirchhof

­ öglich waren. Wenn der Bund ermächtigt wird, sich zur Wahrung
m
des Friedens „einem System gegenseitiger kollektiver Sicherheit einzu­
ordnen“, hat die Mitgliedschaft in diesem System auch die sich daraus
ergebenden Pflichten zum Inhalt. Dieses war dem Verfassungskonvent
von Herrenchiemsee und dem Parlamentarischen Rat bewusst.64
Deshalb ermächtigt Art. 24 Abs. 2 GG zur Mitgliedschaft in einem
System gegenseitiger kollektiver Sicherheit und damit zum militäri­
schen Einsatz deutscher Streitkräfte, die im Rahmen und nach den
Regeln dieses Systems durchgeführt werden.
Die Rechtsprechung des Bundesverfassungsgerichts hat diese
Aufgabe und Befugnis zur militärischen Friedenssicherung im Rahmen
eines Friedenssystems gegenseitiger kollektiver Sicherheit nach und
nach in ihre von Anfang an gemeinte, im Verfassungstext ausgespro­
chene Wirkung gebracht. Das Grundsatzurteil zum Adria-, AWACS-
und Somalia-Einsatz der Bundeswehr vom 12 Juli 199465 betraf die
Beteiligung der Bundeswehr an der Überwachung eines von den VN
gegen die föderative Republik Jugoslawien verhängten Embargos
durch eine gemeinsame Aktion von Seestreitkräften der Nato und der
WEU. Der Nato-Beitrag zur Durchführung des VN-Embargos war auf
die Überwachung von Aktivitäten auf See beschränkt, die nicht die
Befugnis einschloss, die Bestimmungen des Embargos durchzusetzen.
Bei der Beteiligung deutscher Soldaten an der Durchsetzung des
von den VN verhängten Flugverbotes im Luftraum von Bosnien-
Herzegowina hatten die Mitglieder der Nato die Aufgabe übernom­
men, durch AWACS-Fernaufklärer der Schutztruppe der VN
Unterstützung zu gewähren.
Vor allem handelt die Entscheidung auch von der Entsendung eines
verstärkten Nachschub- und Transportbataillons der Bundeswehr zur
Unterstützung der Operationen der VN in Somalia. Wegen anhalten­
der politischer Unruhen und einer schweren Hungersnot in Somalia
hatte der Sicherheitsrat der VN beschlossen, durch militärische

64
Vgl. Abg. Kordt, Verfassungskonvent auf Herrenchiemsee, Ausschuss für
Grundsatzfragen, 2. Sitzung vom 18.8.1948, Sitzungsprotokoll der Unterausschüsse,
Band 2/1, 58 f.; Abg. Carlo Schmid, Hauptausschuss, 6. Sitzung vom 19.11.1948,
Stenografische Protokolle 69 (72) und insbesondere die Ablehnung des Antrags des
Abg. Renner, als Voraussetzung für die Einordnung in ein System gegenseitiger kollek­
tiver Sicherheit festzuschreiben, dass dieses System keine militärische Hilfeleistungen
irgendwelcher Art fordere oder erwarte, Parlamentarischer Rat, Hauptausschuss,
6. Sitzung vom 19.11.1948, Stenografische Protokolle 71.
65
BVerfGE 90, 286 f.
 frieden und friedensvoraussetzungen1217

Interventionen die Feindseligkeiten in Somalia zu beenden und die

Einhaltung einer Waffenruhe im ganzen Land zu erleichtern, später
auch, durch militärische Maßnahmen ein sicheres Umfeld für die
humanitären Hilfsmaßnahmen zu schaffen. Der deutsche Verband
hatte allerdings nicht die Aufgabe, militärischen Zwang anzuwenden
oder bei der Ausübung solchen Zwangs durch andere mitzuwirken.
Sein Recht zur Selbstverteidigung blieb davon unberührt. Der deut­
sche Verband sollte anderen Verbänden in die von diesen befriedeten
Regionen folgen und die Logistik sicherstellen. Dieser humanitäre
Einsatz unter militärischer Absicherung entspreche den neuen
Aufgaben, die durch die Bundeswehr heute und künftig im Rahmen
ihres Auftrags zu erfüllen seien.
Dieser Einsatz deutscher Streitkräfte zur Embargosicherung, zur
Aufklärung und zur logistischen Unterstützung friedensfestigender
Maßnahmen in befriedeten Gebieten gibt dem Bundesverfassungsge­
richt Anlass, die Ermächtigung des Art. 24 Abs. 2 GG zum Eintritt in
ein System gegenseitiger kollektiver Sicherheit in der Tradition des
Grundgesetzes deutlicher zu entfalten. Das Recht zur Mitgliedschaft
biete auch die verfassungsrechtliche Grundlage für die Übernahme der
mit der Zugehörigkeit zu einem solchen System verbundenen
Aufgaben, damit auch für eine Verwendung der Bundeswehr zu militä­
rischen Einsätzen, die im Rahmen und nach den Regeln dieses Systems
stattfinden. Allerdings sei das Gesamtsystem der Wehrverfassung des
Grundgesetzes auf ein Parlamentsheer angelegt. Das Grundgesetz ver­
pflichte die Bundesregierung deshalb, für einen Einsatz bewaffneter
Streitkräfte die – grundsätzlich vorherige – Zustimmung des Deutschen
Bundestages einzuholen.
Ein System gegenseitiger kollektiver Sicherheit im Sinne des
Grundgesetzes begründe ein friedenssicherndes Regelwerk und baue
eine eigene Organisation auf, schaffe dadurch einen Status völkerrecht­
licher Gebundenheit, der wechselseitig zur Wahrung des Friedens
verpflichte und Sicherheit gewähre. Dabei sei es verfassungsrechtlich
unerheblich, ob das System ausschließlich oder vornehmlich unter den
Mitgliedstaaten Frieden garantieren oder bei Angriffen von außen
zum kollektiven Beistand verpflichten solle. Deswegen sind sowohl die
VN als auch die Nato ein solches System kollektiver Sicherheit.
Ordnet sich der Bund in ein System gegenseitiger kollektiver
Sicherheit ein, so umfasst diese Entscheidung auch die Eingliederung
deutscher Streitkräfte in integrierte Verbände des Systems, eine
Beteiligung von deutschen Soldaten an militärischen Aktionen des
1218 paul kirchhof

Systems unter dessen militärischem Kommando, und die Beteiligung

deutscher Soldaten an militärischen Unternehmungen auf der
Grundlage des Zusammenwirkens von Sicherheitssystemen, soweit
sich Deutschland mit der gesetzlichen Zustimmung diesen Systemen
eingeordnet hat.
b. Recht auf Rädern
In dieser Grundsatzentscheidung war auch zu beurteilen, inwieweit
die Nato ohne Änderung des Nato-Vertrages ihre Aufgaben und
Befugnisse erweitern dürfe, die Mitgliedschaft Deutschlands in der
Nato die Entwicklung eines „Rechts auf Rädern“66 rechtfertige. Das
Bundesverfassungsgericht entwickelt hier eine Rechtsprechungslinie,
die den deutschen Organen die völkerrechtsübliche Teilhabe am
Entstehen werdenden Rechts offenhält, staatsintern aber im
Gesetzesvorbehalt das Parlament vermehrt in diesen Prozess zum
neuen und besseren Recht einbezieht.
Im Urteil des Bundesverfassungsgerichts vom 12. Juni 199467 ist die
Grenze zwischen einer des parlamentarischen Zustimmungsgesetzes
bedürftigen Vertragsänderung und einer dynamischen Auslegung
des bestehenden Vertrages vom Zweiten Senat in einer Vier zu Vier-
Entscheidung unterschiedlich beurteilt worden. Die vier die Ent­
scheidung tragenden Richter waren der Auffassung, es obliege der
Bundesregierung, in Abstimmung mit den bisherigen und etwa neu zu
gewinnenden Vertragspartnern zu entscheiden, ob, wann und mit wel­
chem Inhalt neue völkerrechtliche Bindungen eingegangen werden
sollen. Der Verzicht auf einen Vertrag sei insbesondere in der Phase
sinnvoll, in der die beteiligten Völkerrechtssubjekte Verträge anbah­
nen, neue Formen der Zusammenarbeit erproben oder Pläne auf wei­
tere Völkerrechtssubjekte abstimmen. Insbesondere völkerrechtliche
Verträge, durch die eine eigene Organisation ins Leben gerufen wird,
seien auf eine Weiterentwicklung und damit auf eine dynamische
Auslegung angelegt.
In der völkerrechtlichen Praxis bestünden fließende Übergänge zwi­
schen Vertragsauslegung und Vertragsänderung. Griffe die von den
Vertragspartnern als Vertragsauslegung dargestellte Praxis über den
Vertragsinhalt hinaus, so könne der Gesetzgeber aufgrund seiner

66
 G. Ress, Verfassungsrechtliche Auswirkungen der Fortentwicklung völkerrechtli­
cher Verträge, in: Festschrift für Zeidler, 1175, 1179 (1987); dazu BVerfGE 90, 286
(273).
67
BVerfGE 90, 286 (359 f., 372 f.).
 frieden und friedensvoraussetzungen1219

Kompetenz nach Art. 59 Abs. 2 Satz 1 GG nicht den – ergänzenden –

Abschluss eines weiteren völkerrechtlichen Vertrages erzwingen. Die
Parteien hätten durch ihre Erklärung, im Rahmen der bestehenden
Verträge bleiben zu wollen, deutlich zum Ausdruck gebracht, dass sie
keine neuen vertraglichen Rechtsbindungen entstehen lassen wollen.
Andernfalls würde Art. 59 Abs. 2 Satz 1 GG die Bundesregierung
zwingen, bei jedem Schritt, der in der Abfolge des Geschehens neue
Rechte und Pflichten begründet, die Zustimmung des Gesetzgebers
einzuholen. Die Bundesregierung braucht einen Prozess behutsamer
Abstimmung und gemeinsamer Planung einer Rechtsfortbildung
nicht durch einen klarstellenden Vorbehalt zu unterbrechen, sich
nicht rechtlich binden zu wollen, obwohl alle Beteiligten sich der
rechtlichen Unverbindlichkeit ohnehin bewusst sind. Ebenso bleibt
die Bundesregierung davor bewahrt, einseitig ein „Vertrags“-
Gesetzgebungsverfahren einleiten zu müssen, dem der Gegenstand
fehlt und für das deshalb ein Vertragstext fingiert werden müsste.
Beides würde die beteiligten Staaten und Organisationen befremden.
Allerdings sind die Handlungsmöglichkeiten der Bundesregierung
beim Vollzug neuer völkerrechtlicher Maßstäbe auf die Tätigkeiten
beschränkt, die nicht einem Gesetzesvorbehalt unterliegen. Insbeson­
dere im Anwendungsbereich der Grundrechte oder bei Einräumung
von Hoheitsbefugnissen oder im Haushaltsrecht besteht ein Hand­
lungsverbot, so lange nicht entweder das nationale Zustimmungs­
gesetz den innerstaatlichen Rechtsanwendungsbefehl erteilt oder
das Parlament eine sonstige ausreichende Ermächtigungsgrundlage
geschaffen hat. Im übrigen könne der Bundestag, wenn er die Außen­
politik der Regierung missbilligt und insbesondere das Entstehen nicht
erwünschter völkerrechtlicher Verpflichtungen befürchtet, dann mit
vielfältigen Mitteln der politischen Kontrolle entgegentreten.68
Die Frage einer Fortbildung von Verteidigungssystemen ohne förm­
liche Vertragsänderung trat im Urteil des Bundesverfassungsgerichts
vom 22 November 200169 in den Mittelpunkt der Entscheidung. Die
Nato hatte die historische Aufgabe ausschließlich eines Verteidigungs­
bündnisses, das bei Angriffen auf das vom Nato-Vertrag genau defi­
nierte Gebiet zur militärischen Verteidigung berechtigte. Ein neues
Strategisches Konzept von April 1999 aber hatte der Nato die weitere

68
BVerfGE 90, 286 (324); 68, 1 (69).
69
BVerfGE 104, 151 ff.
1220 paul kirchhof

Funktion der Konfliktverhütung und Krisenbewältigung außerhalb

des Bündnis­gebietes zugewiesen. Das Bundesverfassungsgericht hebt
in seinem Urteil hervor, dass die Einordnung Deutschlands in ein
System gegenseitiger kollektiver Sicherheit nach Art. 24 Abs. 2 i.V.m
Art. 59 Abs. 2 Satz 1 GG der Zustimmung des Gesetzgebers bedürfe,
eine Fortentwicklung dieses Systems, die keine Vertragsänderung sei,
jedoch keine gesonderte Zustimmung des Bundestags voraussetze. Die
Zustimmung der Bundesregierung zur Fortentwicklung eines Systems
sei aber durch die im Zustimmungsgesetz enthaltene Ermächtigung
und deren verfassungsrechtlichen Rahmen gemäß Art. 24 Abs. 2 GG
gebunden. Die Weiterentwicklung darf insbesondere nicht die durch
Art. 24 Abs. 2 GG festgelegte Zweckbestimmung des Bündnisses
zur Friedenswahrung verlassen. Das Gericht anerkennt aber auf die­
ser Grundlage, dass der im neuen Strategischen Konzept vorgese­
hene militärische Krisenreaktionseinsatz, ein Einsatz, der keinen
Angriff auf das Territorium eines Vertragsstaats voraussetzt, „noch
als Fortentwicklung und Konkretisierung der offen formulierten
Bestimmungen des Nato-Vertrages“ verstanden werden könne.
Mit dieser Entscheidung ist die Entwicklung gemeinsamer militäri­
scher Aufgaben und Befugnisse weitgehend in die Eigenverantwortung
des Systems kollektiver Sicherheit – mit Zustimmungsvorbehalt der
Bundesregierung – gegeben. Die deutschen Streitkräfte sind deutlicher
in kollektive Friedenssysteme eingegliedert worden. Das Ziel des
Grundgesetzes, Deutschland als gleichberechtigtes Glied des vereinig­
ten Europas und der Völkerrechtsgemeinschaft zu entfalten, dabei aber
die Friedenspflicht Deutschlands in den drei Säulen der deutschen
Wehrverfassung – der Einsatz der Streitkräfte nur zur Verteidigung,
das Verbot des Angriffskrieges und die Friedlichkeitsverpflichtung –
zu bewahren, scheint erfüllt. Die nachdrückliche verfassungsrechtliche
Integrationsbereitschaft der deutschen Streitkräfte dient einem umfas­
senden Friedensgebot, bietet für andere integrierende Bündnisaktionen
aber keine Grundlage.

C. Entstehens- und Geltungsanspruch des Rechts

I. Vertrag und Bindungen unterhalb des Vertrages

Das Urteil des Bundesverfassungsgerichts vom 22 Dezember 2001
hat auf dieser Grundlage das neue Strategische Konzept 1999
noch als Fortentwicklung und Konkretisierung der offen
 frieden und friedensvoraussetzungen1221

f­ormulierten Bestimmungen des Nato-Vertrages verstanden.70

Unterhalb des Ver­tragsschlusses könnten völkerrechtliche Bindungen
für die Bundesrepublik Deutsch­ land durch verbindliche Konkre­
tisierung des Vertragsinhalts durch die dazu berufenen Organe der
Nato, durch eine authentische Interpretation des Nato-Vertrages durch
die Vertrags­parteien, aber auch durch die außervertragliche gemein­
same Ver­stärkung einer völkerrechtlichen Übung entstehen. Dadurch
besteht zwar die Gefahr, dass durch rechtserhebliches Handeln unter­
halb der förmlichen Vertragsänderung eine allmähliche Inhalts­
veränderung des Vertrages eintritt.71 Doch in einem parlamentarischen
Regie­rungssystem kann sich das Parlament gegen eine solche
Entwicklung wehren, weil die Bundesregierung bereits aufgrund allge­
meiner parlamentarischer Kontrollrechte Rede und Antwort zu stehen
hat für ihr Handeln in den Organen der Nato, das Budgetrecht des
Parlaments dem Bundestag entscheidende Mitwir­kungsrechte sichert,
die Auf­nahme weiterer Staaten einen Abschluss eines Beitrittsprotokolls
voraussetzt, dem der Bundestag nach Art. 59 Abs. 2 Satz 1, Art. 24 Abs.
2 GG zustimmen muss, darüber hinaus der wehrverfassungsrechtliche
Parlamentsvor­behalt für jeden Einsatz der Bundeswehr im Rahmen
der Nato einen Zustimmungsvorbehalt des Bundestages begründet,72
schließlich auch eine Parlamentsminderheit im Organstreitverfahren
die verfassungswidrige Überschreitung des Gestaltungsraums der
Bundesregierung rügen kann.
Das Grundgesetz stärkt somit gerade in der Wehrverfassung
die Rechte des Parlaments gegenüber der Regierung, zwingt die
Bundesregierung aber nicht zu parlamentsschützenden Vorbehalten,
die im Völkerrechtsverkehr unüblich sind und der Rechtsquellenlehre
des Völkerrechts nicht entsprechen. Die beiden Bewährungsproben
von Verfassungsrecht und Bundesverfassungsgericht gegenüber der
Fortbildung des strategischen Konzepts der Nato aber geben Anlass,
die Frage der Rechtsquellen erneut zu überdenken.

II. Die Rechtsquelle

Begriff und Idee der Rechtsquelle73 lehren, dass die Quelle eine vorge­
gebene Substanz des Wassers sichtbar macht, von dessen Existenz im

70
BVerfGE 104, 151 (204 f.).
71
BVerfGE 90, 286 (372 f.); 104, 151 (208 f.).
72
Vgl. BVerfGE 90, 286 (363 f.); 104, 151 (206).
73
 Zur „Rechtsquelle“ vgl. K. Bader, Deutsches Recht, in Deutsche Philologie
im Aufriss, Band III, Sp. 1971, 1983 ff. (2. Aufl. 1962); T. Bühler, Rechtsquellenlehre,
1222 paul kirchhof

Berg wir wissen, dessen konkrete Konturen aber bisher im Verborgenen

geblieben sind. Im Begriff der „Quelle“ erfassen wir sowohl die Ursache,
die Substanz hervorbringt, als auch die andauernd hervorgetretene
Substanz. Die Substanz des Wassers – des Rechts – ist, im Naturzustand
belassen, weniger deutlich erkennbar, deshalb oft auch nur abge­
schwächt wirksam. Ist die Quelle – das Recht – hingegen gefasst, so
tritt die Substanz geformt, für jedermann erkennbar und logisch
abgrenzbar hervor. Der Ursprung des Verfassungsrechts und des
Völkergewohnheitsrechts ist eher die Quelle im Naturzustand, der
Ursprung des sonstigen Rechts die gefasste Quelle, in der Gesetzge­
bungsorgane ein Gesetz, Vertragsparteien einen Vertrag in einer
Urkunde hervorbringen.
Eine Staatsverfassung74 ist das Gedächtnis der Demokratie,75 beant­
wortet die gegenwärtigen Anfragen an das Recht in Erfahrung und
Maßstabswillen langfristig verbindlicher, oft unantastbarer und unver­
äußerlicher Grundprinzipien des menschlichen Zusammenlebens.
Die Verfassung stellt die Rechtserfahrung aus dem unwiderruflich
Vergangenen in der Gegenwart fest, sucht sie verbindlich in einer
Urkunde mit vorrangigem Geltungsanspruch an die Zukunft weiterzu­
geben, will eine Rechtskultur festschreiben, deren Inhalt – des Friedens,
der Freiheit, der Demokratie, der Gleichheit vor dem Gesetz, der
Gewaltenteilung, der sozialen Verantwortlichkeit, die Überzeugung
von der inhaltlichen Richtigkeit – lebendig halten. Für diese Verfassung
und ihre Verbindlichkeit steht der Staat.76

3 Bände (1977–1985); E. Kaufmann, Rechtsquellen, in: A. Erler/E. Kaufmann (Hrsg.),

Handwörterbuch zur deutschen Rechtsgeschichte, Band IV, Sp. 335 ff. (1990);
P. Kirchhof, Rechtsquellen und Grundgesetz, in: C. Starck (Hrsg.), Bundesverfas­
sungsgericht und Grundgesetz. Festgabe aus Anlass des 25-jährigen Bestehens des
Bundesverfassungsgerichts, Band II, 50 ff. (1976); F. Ossenbühl, Gesetz und Recht –
Die Rechtsquellen im demokratischen Staat, in: J. Isensee/P. Kirchhof (Hrsg.),
Handbuch des Staatsrechts, Band V, § 100 (2007).
74
 Zu den verschiedenen Verfassungsbegriffen als gesollte Ordnung vgl. C. Stark,
Der Vertrag über eine Verfassung für Europa, in: id., Verfassungen, 311, 312 f.
(2009).
75
P. Kirchhof, Das Grundgesetz als Gedächtnis der Demokratie – Die Kontinuität
des Grundgesetzes im Prozess der Wiedervereinigung und der europäischen
Integration, in: M. Heckel (Hrsg.), Die innere Einheit Deutschlands inmitten der euro­
päischen Einigung, 35 ff. (1996).
76
 Zum Staat und seiner Rechtsordnung vgl. E.-W. Böckenförde, Der Staat als
sittlicher Staat (1978); H. Hofmann, Politik, Recht, Verfassung (1986); P. Kirchhof,
Der Staat als Organisationsform politischer Herrschaft und rechtlicher Bindung, in:
Deutsches Verwaltungsblatt 637 ff. (1999); W. Reinhard, Geschichte der Staatsgewalt
(3. Aufl. 2002); U. Di Fabio, Die Staatsrechtslehre und der Staat (2003); J. Isensee,
 frieden und friedensvoraussetzungen1223

Dieser Staat in seiner Verfasstheit ist Ausgangspunkt zwischenstaat­

licher Verständigung, des Völkerrechts. Auch diesem Recht ist geläufig,
dass Recht nicht nur in einem förmlichen Verfahren in verlässlicher
äußerer Form entstehen kann, sondern dass auch Erfahrung und
Wirklichkeit konkretes Recht hervorrufen können. Nach Art. 38 Abs.
1 StIGH vom 26. Juni 1945 wendet der Internationale Gerichtshof im
Rahmen seiner streitentscheidenden Tätigkeit als formelle Quellen des
Völkerrechts an: Internationale Übereinkünfte, in denen von den strei­
tenden Staaten ausdrücklich anerkannte Regeln festgelegt sind, das
internationale Gewohnheitsrecht als Ausdruck einer allgemeinen, als
Recht anerkannten Übung, die von den Kulturvölkern anerkannten
allgemeinen Rechtsgrundsätze, richterliche Entscheidungen und die
Lehrmeinung der fähigsten Völkerrechtler der verschiedenen Nationen
als Hilfsmittel zur Feststellung von Rechtsnormen.
Auf dieser Grundlage tragen auch Beschlüsse internationaler
und supranationaler Organisationen, einseitige Rechtsgeschäfte und
die Rechtsprechung zum Entstehen und Verstehen von Völkerrecht
bei.
Recht beantwortet die aus einer historischen Erfahrung erwachsen­
den Anfragen. Dabei führt insbesondere das Erlebnis von Krieg und
Frieden, von Unterdrückung und Freiheit, von Entwürdigung und
Würde, von Hunger und Wohlstand, von Hass und Achtung, von
Unbildung und Bildung zu Erwartungen an eine Gemeinschaft,
die dann – insbesondere wenn Staaten entstehen – zu Recht werden.
Die Friedensgewähr, das Unterbinden von Kriegen, ebenso aber auch
die rechtlichen, kulturellen, ökonomischen und politischen Rahmen­
bedin­­
gungen eines auf breiter Zustimmung aufbauenden Zusam­
menlebens, ist eine der politischen Grundeinsichten, aus der die
Rechtskultur eines allgemeinen Gesetzes, eines Parlaments, einer
unabhängigen Gerichts­ barkeit, einer vertraglichen Verständigung

Der Verfassungsstaat als Friedensgarant, in: R. Mellinghoff/G. Morgenthaler/T.Puhl

(Hrsg.), Die Erneuerung des Verfassungsstaates, 7 ff. (2003); U. Di Fabio, Der
Verfassungsstaat in der Weltgesellschaft, in: R. Mellinghoff/G. Morgenthaler/T. Puhl
(Hrsg.), Die Erneuerung des Verfassungsstaates, 57 ff. (2003); D. Grimm, Ursprung
und Wandel der Verfassung, in: J. Isensee/P. Kirchhof, (Hrsg.), Handbuch des
Staatsrechts, Band I, § 1 Rn. 9 f., 11 ff. (3. Aufl. 2003); H.-J. Papier, Steuerungs- und
Reformfähigkeit des Staates, in: R. Mellinghoff/G. Morgenthaler/T. Puhl (Hrsg.), Die
Erneuerung des Verfassungsstaates, 103 ff. (2003); J. Isensee, Staat und Verfassung, in:
J. Isensee/P. Kirchhof, (Hrsg.), Handbuch des Staatsrechts, Band II, § 15 Rn. 21 ff.
(3. Aufl. 2004).
1224 paul kirchhof

erwächst. Es gibt kaum ein Rechtsprinzip wie das des Friedens, das sich
auf die ­allgemeine Überzeugung der Menschen – vielleicht nicht aller
Regierungen – von der Richtigkeit dieses Prinzips stützt.

III. Entstehens- und Erkenntnisquellen für Recht

Doch Rechtsentstehensquellen sind nicht schon Rechtserkenntnis­
quellen, aus der wir eine verbindliche Regel in sprachlicher77 Form ent­
nehmen und zu einer sichtbaren und voraussehbaren Verhaltensregel
formen können. Dabei unterscheiden sich die Rechtserzeugungsquellen
in drei verschiedenen Ursprüngen: Stützt sich die Verbindlichkeit eines
Gesetzes auf eine Autorität, einen durchsetzungsfähigen Willen, so ist
das Gesetz Befehl,78 die Anordnung als angeordnetes Recht verbind­
lich. Wollen sich die Rechtsbeteiligten um der Friedens-, Kultur- und
Wirtschaftsgemeinschaft willen rechtlich binden, ist Geltungsgrund
für das Gesetz die Verständigung;79 das Übereinkommen wirkt
rechtsbegründend. Ist die Verfassung eine Antwort auf eine histori­
sche Lage, so beantwortet sie – bestätigend oder widerlegend –
eine Entwicklung; ihr Antwortcharakter rechtfertigt ihre Geltung.
Die englische Revolu­tion im 17. Jahrhundert galt dem Herrscher,
nicht dem Herrschafts­ system, wahrte also weitgehend die bishe­
rige Verfasstheit in einer neuen Unabhängigkeit.80 Die Französi­
sche Revolution hingegen wollte die absolute Monarchie und die
Feudal­herrschaft stürzen, also ein besseres – die Rechtswirklichkeit
änderndes – Recht einführen.81

77
Nicht notwendig geschriebener; zum Gewohnheitsrecht vgl. F. Ossenbühl, Die
Rechtsquellen, in: J. Isensee/P. Kirchhof (Hrsg.), Handbuch des Staatsrechts, Band V,
§ 100, Rn. 57 ff. (2007) sowie Art. 38 Abs. 1 lit. B StIGH.
78
C. Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, 76 (1928, Nachdruck 1970).
79
 Zur vereinbarten Verfassung vgl. J. Isensee, Staat und Verfassung, in: J. Isensee/
P. Kirchhof (Hrsg.), Handbuch des Staatsrechts, Band II, § 15 Rn. 119 ff. (3. Aufl. 2004);
zur vereinbarten Verfassung von 1871: E.R. Huber, das Kaiserreich als Epoche verfas­
sungsstaatlicher Entwicklung, in: J. Isensee/P. Kirchhof (Hrsg.), Handbuch des
Staatsrechts, Band I, § 4 Rn. 11 ff. (3. Aufl. 2003).
80
Vgl. die Bill of Rights von 1689, den Vertrag zwischen dem Parlament und dem
neuen Monarchen, in dem die alten Rechte bekräftigt wurden. Originaltext abgedruckt
in: D.C. Douglas (Hrsg.), English Historical Documents, Band VI: A. Browning
(Hrsg.), 1660–1714, 122 ff. (1996), übersetzt in: D. Gosewinkel/J. Masing (Hrsg.), Die
Verfassung in Europa 1789–1949, 119 ff. (2006); D. Grimm, Die Zukunft der
Verfassung, 78 f. (1991)
81
 Zur Französischen Revolution und deren rechtlichen Errungenschaften vgl.
H. Hofmann, Die Grundrechte 1789–1949–1989, Neue Juristische Wochenschrift
1989, 3177 ff.
 frieden und friedensvoraussetzungen1225

Keine Verfassung garantiert sich selbst.82 Sie ist vielmehr auf

Voraussetzungen angelegt und angewiesen, die von Staat, Wirtschaft,
Kultureinrichtungen und Gesellschaft immer wieder erneuert werden
müssen. Garant dieser Verfassung sind nicht der Verfassungstext, auch
nicht allein die für die Verfassung streitenden Verfassungsorgane.
Vielmehr stehen der Staat und seine Bürger für diese Grundordnung
und ihre Gestaltungsmacht.
Für das Entstehen der Menschenrechtskonvention der VN sagt eine
Anekdote, sie sei entstanden, „unter der Voraussetzung, dass keiner
fragt warum“.83 Diese Aussage will bewusst machen, dass die Völker
mit verschiedenen Kulturen und Rechtstraditionen unter dem
Eindruck zweier Weltkriege ein Rechtskonzept des Friedens und der
Freiheit hervorbringen wollten und dafür ein Stück ihrer eigenen
Rechtserfahrung und ihres eigenen Rechtsbewusstseins zurückstellen
wollten. Die Konvention ist Antwort auf den Krieg. Doch ist dabei
auch bewusst, dass Recht langfristig nicht Verbindlichkeit beanspru­
chen kann, wenn es nicht in der Erfahrung und den Wertvorstellungen
der Rechtsbeteiligten verankert ist. Jede Rechtserkenntnisquelle stützt
sich auf eine Rechtswertungsquelle. Der Staat hält hier Ethik, Moral
und Recht zusammen.

IV. Rechtfertigung des Rechts

1. Religion, Natur, Vertrag, Diskurs
Doch Recht in der Bestimmtheit eines Rechtssatzes muss gefertigt
und in diesem Entstehen gerechtfertigt werden.84 In einer reli­
giös geprägten Gesellschaft bietet die Kirche eine Moral, die allen
Menschen in einem gemeinsamen Bewusstsein verbindlicher Regeln
zusammenführt, zugleich innere Bindungen schafft, nach denen
Selbstbestimmungs- und Freiheitsrechte ausgeübt werden.85 Dieses

82
J. v. Eichendorff, Preußen und die Konstitutionen (1832), abgedruckt in:
J. v. Eichendorff, Werke, Band V: Politische und historische Schriften. Streitschriften,
95, 129 (1988).
83
 Zur Anekdote über die Verabschiedung der Menschenrechtserklärung vgl.
W. Kasper, Die theologische Begründung der Menschenrechte, in: D. Schwab u. a.
(Hrsg.), Staat, Kirche, Wissenschaft in einer pluralistischen Gesellschaft. Festschrift
für Paul Mikat, 99, 100 (1989).
84
 Zum Wortspiel „Rechtfertigen durch Recht fertigen“ vgl. M.T. Fögen, Das Lied
vom Gesetz, 123, Fn. 271 (2007).
85
 Zum göttlichen Recht vgl. F. Böckle, Natürliches Gesetz als göttliches Gesetz in
der Moraltheologie, in: F. Böckle/E.-W. Böckenförde (Hrsg.), Naturrecht in der Kritik,
1226 paul kirchhof

göttlich legitimierte Recht beansprucht höchste Autorität. Wenn Gott

Moses die Gesetzestafeln übergeben hat, ist die Autorität dieser Gesetze
und ihres Vollstreckers Moses anerkannt und gefestigt.
In einer in religiöser Vielfalt lebenden Gesellschaft sucht der
Mensch das Recht in der Natur, in der in jedem Menschen angeleg­
ten Humanität, der Einsicht in die natürlichen Bedürfnisse des
Menschen nach Existenzsicherung, Frieden, Freiheit, Anerkennung
und Mitgestaltung des Gemeinschaftslebens.86 Doch das Buch der
Natur können wir vielfach in seinen Zeichen nicht lesen, in seinen
Sprachen nicht immer verstehen.87 Zudem wird unsere heutige offene
Gesellschaft naturgegebene Regeln, insbesondere über Beginn und
Ende des menschlichen Lebens, die Rechtfertigung von Macht und
Ohnmacht, die Verteilung der Güter kaum mehr gemeinsam erken­
nen und anerkennen. Machtwille, Erwerbsstreben, Ehrgeiz, Zorn,
Enttäuschung verdrängen Wissen und Gewissen. Recht ist eine
Konfliktordnung, die diesen Menschen Maßstäbe setzt, Kriterien
für Veräußerliches und Unveräußerliches, Unabstimmbares und
Abstimmbares, Unabänderliches und Wandelbares bietet.
Der moderne Mensch sucht deshalb nach einer Gemeinschaft, die
einvernehmlich gerechte Regeln hervorbringt. Ein Gesellschaftsvertrag
führt alle Mitglieder einer Rechtsgemeinschaft zusammen, die sich
auf Grundbedingungen ihres Zusammenlebens verständigen und die
Voraussetzungen vereinbaren, unter denen der Einzelne ein Stück sei­
ner Freiheit für die gemeinsame Friedlichkeit und Sicherheit aufzuge­
ben bereit ist.88 Doch bleiben in jeder Gemeinschaft die Interessen –
der Reichen und Armen, der Religiösen und Unreligiösen, der

165 ff. (1973); R. Dreier, Göttliches und menschliches Recht, 32 Zeitschrift für evange­
lisches Kirchenrecht 289 (1987).
86
 Zum Naturrecht vgl. B. Rüthers, Rechtstheorie, § 12 (3. Aufl. 2007); A. Hollerbach,
Naturrecht, in: W. Korff/L. Beck/P. Mikat (Hrsg.), Lexikon der Bioethik, Band 2, 738 ff.
(1998); K. Stern, Idee der Menschenrechte und Positivität der Grundrechte, in:
J. Isensee/P. Kirchhof (Hrsg.) Handbuch des Staatsrechts, Band V, § 108, Rn. 9 f.
(2. Aufl. 2000).
87
Vgl. auch I. S. Turgenjew, Vorabend (1860), abgedruckt in: I.S. Turgenjew. Gesam­
melte Werke in Einzelbänden, Band 3, 12 (1994) „Wie oft du auch an das Tor der Natur
klopfen magst, sie wird dir niemals in verständlicher Sprache antworten, denn sie ist
stumm.“
88
 Zum Gesellschaftsvertrag vgl. J.-J. Rousseau, Du contrat social ou principes du
droit politique (1762), übersetzt in: J.-J. Rousseau, Sozialphilosophische und Politische
Schriften, 267 ff. (1981); dazu: W. Kersting, Die politische Philosophie des Gesell­
schaftsvertrags (2005); W. Kersting, Jean-Jacques Rousseaus „Gesellschaftsvertrag“
(2002).
 frieden und friedensvoraussetzungen1227

Erwerbstätigen und Arbeitslosen, der Gebildeten und Ungebildeten –

so unterschiedlich, dass Recht nicht einvernehmlich hervorgebracht
wird, sondern mehrheitlich entschieden werden muss. Diese Mehrheit
aber soll nicht die Macht gewinnen, eine Minderheit zu unterwerfen,
sondern in einer Rechtsordnung gebunden sein, in der auch die
Minderheit – jeder einzelne in seinen Menschen- und Grundrechten –
leben kann. Der Gesellschaftsvertrag braucht deshalb Vernunft,
Einsicht, Allgemeinverantwortlichkeit, die unabhängig von Verständi­
gungsbereitschaft und Vertragswillen wirken.
Deswegen setzt manche Theorie auf eine unaufhörliche offene
Debatte, die im Gegeneinander der Argumente die Beteiligten der
Vernunft näherbringen und zum richtigen Recht führen.89 Doch auch
dieser Deutung steht die Erfahrung entgegen, dass auch parlamentari­
sche Debatten und öffentliche Diskussionen unterschiedlichen
Interessen folgen, von Leidenschaft bestimmt, von Ehrgeiz und
Resignation geprägt sind und das Denken und Entscheiden auch in die
Unvernunft führen können. Selbst wenn ein „Schleier des Nichtwissens
über alle Entscheidungsträger gebreitet würde“,90 bleibt dieses Ideal
einer vorurteils-, interessen- und leidenschaftsfreien Welt eine Fiktion.
Der demokratische Gedanke einer „höchsten Gewalt“ des Staats­
volkes, das sich dank dieser Gewalt eine Verfassung gebe und selbst
binde, erklärt nicht das Entstehen von Recht, sondern zieht Folgerungen
aus einem schon geltenden Recht. Wenn das Staatsvolk die verfassung­
gebende Gewalt ist, gilt bereits eine verbindliche – demokratische –
Verfassung. Wenn das Entstehen von Elementarrecht auf das Staatsvolk
setzt, in einem demokratischen Verfahren abläuft, die Rechtsfragen
und Rechtslösungen in einer bestimmten Sprache begreift, ist diese
Rechtsgemeinschaft bereits verfasst. Die verfassunggebende ist eine
verfassungweitergebende Gewalt.

2. Die Fähigkeit des Menschen, über sich hinauszudenken

Das Recht rechtfertigt sich und beansprucht Geltung aus der Fähigkeit
des Menschen, über sich selbst hinauszudenken, aus seinen Erfahrungen

89
Vgl. Darstellung und Kritik bei A. Engländer, Diskurs als Rechtsquelle? (2002).
90
J. Rawls, A Theory of Justice (1971), Neudruck, 136 ff. et passim (2005), übersetzt
in: J. Rawls, Eine Theorie der Gerechtigkeit, 159 ff. et passim (1975); vgl. ferner J. Rawls,
Justice as Fairness. A Restatement, 85 et passim (2. Aufl. 2001), übersetzt in E. Kelly
(Hrsg.), John Rawls. Gerechtigkeit als Fairness. Ein Neuentwurf, 139 ff. et passim
(2006).
1228 paul kirchhof

und Einsichten verbindliche Folgerungen für die Zukunft zu ziehen.

Dies ist das Denk- und Wissensprinzip in Naturwissenschaft und
Technik. Wer heute die Gesetzmäßigkeit erkannt hat, wie ein Auto zu
bauen und zu lenken ist, wird diese Erkenntnis in aller Zukunft anwen­
den. Gleiches gilt für Erfahrungen und Einsichten zu den rechtlichen
Bedingungen guter Politik. Wer einen Bürgerkrieg erlebt hat, weiß,
dass er Frieden organisieren, deswegen einen Staat gründen und mit
Gewaltmonopol ausstatten muss. Wer staatliche Unterdrückung und
Willkür erdulden musste, möchte den Staat an Unterdrückung
und Willkür hindern, durch die Herrschaft des Rechts, eine Gewal­
tenteilung, eine materielle Verpflichtung auf Grundrechte mäßigen.
Die Erfahrung von Hass und Hunger lehrt, dass die Gesellschaft
durch eine gemeinsame Moral zusammengehalten, daraus ein Recht
der individuellen Würde und des schonenden Ausgleichs erwachsen
muss.
Wer die Experimente einer staatlichen Plan- und Zentralwirtschaft
in der DDR und einer Privatwirtschaft in der Bundesrepublik
Deutschland verglichen hat, baut auf Privateigentum, Berufsfreiheit
und unternehmerische Initiative. Wer den modernen Finanzmarkt
beobachtet, in dem freies Handeln ohne persönliche Haftung zu Spiel
und Wette anregt, wird Verantwortlichkeit und Haftung schaffen. Die
Verfassung ist insoweit Ergebnis von Erfahrung, Kulturentwicklung
und dem Willen, die Zukunft zu gestalten.

D. Entstehens- und Wirkungsgrund der Friedenspflicht

I. Entstehen von Wertebewusstsein, Moral, Recht

Eine Friedenspflicht entsteht und besteht demnach, weil die Völker
und Staaten aus der Erfahrung des Krieges verbindliche Folgerungen
ziehen. Die VN und ihr Friedenskonzept sind angesichts des
Zusammenbruchs des Völkerbundes und eines zum Weltkrieg aus­
ufernden europäischen Krieges entstanden.91 Den Staaten wurde die
Frage aufgedrängt, was nach dem Ende des Weltkrieges kommen
werde und wie man künftig neue Kriege verhindern könne.92 Auf die
Realität des Krieges antworten die Staaten mit dem Recht der VN.

91
W. Grewe, Entstehung und Wandlungen der Vereinten Nationen, in: B. Simma
(Hrsg.), Charta der Vereinten Nationen, XXIII f. (1991).
92
 Grewe, id., XXIII f.
 frieden und friedensvoraussetzungen1229

Die VN wollen nach Art. 1 ihrer Charta Weltfrieden und internatio­

nale Sicherheit wahren, den Frieden durch die freundschaftlichen
Beziehungen zwischen den Staaten stärken, die Wahrscheinlichkeit
von Kriegen verringern und die internationalen Beziehungen stabili­
sieren.93 Auch die konkreten Friedensmaßnahmen sind Antworten auf
tatsächliche Bedrohungen, die Abrüstung, die Dekolonialisierung, die
Förderung wirtschaftlicher und sozialer Entwicklungen, die Prävention
gegen die Bedrohung durch Atomwaffen, die Respektierung der
Prinzipien Gewaltverbot und friedliche Streitbeilegung, der Grundsatz
einer ausschließlich friedlichen Nutzung des Weltraums, die Förderung
und Gewährleistung des Menschenrechtsschutzes, die Beseitigung
von Rassendiskriminierung und Apartheid, die Förderung der
Lebensqualität, der Umweltschutz und die Befriedigung der menschli­
chen Bedürfnisse.94
Dieses Recht des Friedens entsteht nicht im Ungefähr spontaner
Willensbildung, sondern baut auf ein gewachsenes Wertebewusstsein,
auf eine daraus entstehende allgemeine Überzeugung verhaltensleiten­
der Handlungsmaßstäbe (Moral) und schließlich deren Fassung in
der Rationalität des Sprachlichen. Diesen Zusammenhang zwischen
Moral und Recht gilt es zu betonen, wenn weltweite Verschiebungen
staatlicher Vorherrschaften und deren Rechtsordnungen nach der
Gemeinsamkeit eines friedensstiftenden Grundverständnisses suchen,
wenn der Terrorismus durch Staat und Recht zwar in Grenzen gewie­
sen, an seinen Wurzeln aber nur durch weltweite gemeinsame Wertvor­
stellungen ausgeräumt werden kann, wenn die Bedrohungen des
internationalen Finanzmarktes Hunger und Armut mehren, deswegen
den ehrbaren Kaufmann und daraus erwachsend ein stärkeres Recht
allgemeiner Freiheit brauchen, wenn die hochverschuldeten Staaten
durch den redlichen Bürger, den zukunftsverantwortlichen Politiker
auf eine Kultur des Maßes zurückgeführt werden müssen, wenn ein
Untätigkeit von Staat und Sicherheitsrat bei dramatischen Menschen­
rechtsverletzungen die Frage veranlassen, ob Freiheit ohne Religion,
Weltfrieden ohne Verständigung unter den Religionen möglich ist.

II. Das Beispiel ökonomischer Bedrohungen

Der Friedensauftrag – der Auftrag Frieden zu schaffen und Friedensvor­
kehrungen zu treffen – muss sich gegenwärtig exemplarisch bewähren,

93
Wolfrum (Fn. 1), Art. 1 Rn. 5.
94
Id.
1230 paul kirchhof

wenn die aktuelle Entwicklung des weltoffenen Finanz- und

Wirtschaftsmarktes den Staaten ein Stück ihrer Gestaltungsmacht und
damit ihrer Kraft der Friedenssicherung entwindet und staatliches
Entscheiden in den Sog des privatwirtschaftlichen Erwerbsstrebens
weltweit tätiger Erwerbsgesellschaften geraten lässt. Wenn die Staaten
sich überhöht verschulden, treten sie ein Stück ihrer Budgethoheit an
ihre Kreditgeber ab. Im Bundeshaushalt wurden 2010 41 Milliarden
Euro – mit steigender Tendenz – als Zinszahlungen den Gläubigern
zugewiesen. Die Überschuldung vieler Staaten auch in Europa drängt
die Staaten und Staatengemeinschaft in die Aufgabe, den Staatsbankrott
zu vermeiden und ein Resolvenzrecht des Staates zu schaffen. Der
Staatsbankrott würde den Maßstab des Rechts durch das Maß
des Möglichen95 ersetzen, die Kompetenzen von der rechtlichen
Zuständigkeit zur tatsächlichen Handlungsmöglichkeit verschieben,
die Grundrechte der Menschen im Maß staatlicher Handlungs­
schwäche verringern, Sacheigentümer bevorzugen, Geldeigentümer
und Bedürftige benachteiligen.
Wenn nunmehr „Rettungsschirme“ aufgespannt werden, um
Unternehmen mit „systemischen“ Problemen zu retten, so kombinie­
ren diese Rettungsschirme in einer modernen Art der Feudalherrschaft
Freiheitsrechte mit einer Art der Sozialisierung. Eine herrschende
Schicht, die ihre Herrschaft aus ihrem Geldkapital ableitet, überlässt
ihr Eigentum dem Staat zinspflichtig zu Lehen, gewinnt mit diesem
Kapital die Herrschaft über Staat und Wirtschaft, auch über konkurrie­
rende kleinere Unternehmen, festigt dieses hierarchische System durch
Abhängigkeits- und Treueverhältnisse der auf die Kapitalgeber ange­
wiesenen Staaten. Aus dem „Benefiz“ folgen Gegenleistungspflichten
oder Gegenleistungszwänge bis hin zu den gesetzlichen Rettungs­
schirmen. Während eine Enteignung (Art. 14 Abs. 3 GG) die
Übertragung von Privateigentum auf die öffentliche Hand gegen
Entschädigung voraussetzt, eine Sozialisierung eine Verstaatlichung
von Produktionsmitteln gegen Entschädigung meint, erbringt der
„Rettungsschirm“ Geldleistungen an Unternehmen, ohne dass dafür
Privateigentum auf den Staat übertragen würde. Hier stellt sich die
Frage, ob die Größe eines gefährdeten Instituts zur Folge hat, dass es
nicht gerettet werden kann oder soll, oder ob dieses Unternehmen
wegen seiner Größe nicht scheitern darf.

95
BVerfGE 15, 126 (143); 27, 253 (285); 41, 126 (151ff.).
 frieden und friedensvoraussetzungen1231

Die Finanzmacht der Kreditgeber lenkt politische Entscheidungen

eines Staates. Wenn Ratingagenturen96 auch die Staaten in ihrer Bonität
prüfen, ihre Bewertungen dabei über die Kosten des Kredits entschei­
den, fragen diese erwerbswirtschaftlich handelnden Ratingagenturen
auch nach dem Steuersystem, dem Arbeitsrecht, der Staatsverschul­
dung, dem Umweltrecht, den Sozialausgaben, bewerten dabei eine
sehr erfolgreiche Politik – insbesondere im Sozialrecht und im
Umweltrecht – eher als Bonitätsrisiko.97 Diese unauffällige Ökonomi­
sierung der Staaten und ihrer Politik verschiebt die Ziele des Staates
von der Friedensgarantie zum Profit des Kreditgebers.
Wenn allein die Gesetzmäßigkeiten des Marktes herrschen, bleiben
die Völker und Staaten von der Wirtschaftsentwicklung ausgenom­
men, die nicht über hinreichende Angebots- und Kaufkraft verfügen.
Dadurch wird das Gefälle zwischen reichen und armen Ländern und
Regionen größer. Ein Potential des Hungers und der Verzweiflung,
damit der Unfriedlichkeit baut sich auf. Auch hier wird die zukünftige
Friedenspolitik davon abhängen, ob die Staaten hinreichende Kraft
und Unabhängigkeit haben, um diese Ökonomisierung der Politik
durch einen vermeintlich globalen Markt in Schranken zu weisen.
Die praktischen Folgerungen betreffen das Entstehen von Wertvor­
stellung und sodann von Recht. Die Abhängigkeit der Staaten wird
verringert und letztlich schwinden, wenn die Verfassungsverbote
einer Neuverschuldung und die Verfassungsgebote eines Schul­
denabbaus greifen. Doch mit der Gestaltungskraft solcher Rechtsre­
geln haben wir im deutschen Verfassungsrecht und im Europarecht
schlechte Erfahrungen gemacht. Die rechtlichen Kreditschranken sind
schlicht nicht beachtet worden. Deswegen sollte der Gesetzgeber die
Last der Verschuldung gegenwärtig machen, die Rechtsbeteilig­
ten damit im Willen zur Schuldenvermeidung einen. Ein Gesetz
könnte vorsehen, bei jedem Anstieg der Staatsverschuldung um 1 %
gleichzeitig alle Staatsleistungen – die Industriesubventionen, die
Beamtengehälter, die Sozialhilfe – um 1 % sinken zu lassen. Damit

96
 Die ersten credit ratings entstanden Anfang des 20. Jahrhunderts in den USA und
wurden eingerichtet, um Eisenbahnanleihen anzubieten, s. A.C. Peters, Die Haftung
und die Regulierung von Rating-Agenturen, 41 (2000); A. Niedostadek, Rating, Eine
Einführung, 67 (2006); O. Everling, Credit Rating durch internationale Agenturen.
Eine Untersuchung zu den Komponenten und instrumentalen Funktionen des Rating,
77 (1991).
97
J. Rosenbaum, Der politische Einfluss von Ratingagenturen, 23 (2009).
1232 paul kirchhof

wären alle Empfänger von Staatsleistungen durch Staatsverschuldung

benachteiligt, im Willen zur Sparsamkeit vereint.
Der Finanzmarkt könnte rechtlich besser strukturiert werden, wenn
Zweckgesellschaften untersagt, der Griff in den Staatshaushalt katego­
risch begrenzt, die Steuervergünstigung für anonyme Anlageformen
beendet, staatliche Hilfe allenfalls auf Gegenseitigkeit – insbesondere
in Verpflichtung sanierter Banken zum Zins- und Schuldennachlass
gegenüber dem sanierenden Staat – verbunden würde. Der Anleger
müsste wieder die Quelle seines Erwerbs kennen und verantworten,
die Bank für die Bonität ihres Schuldners einstehen, der Berater einen
Teil der von ihm empfohlenen Finanzprodukte selber halten, der Inhalt
der Finanzprodukte für jedermann erkennbar, damit die Rationalität
des Marktes wieder hergestellt sein. Doch auch dieser Markt ist letzt­
lich auf Moral – den ehrbaren Kaufmann – angewiesen.

III. Friedenserwartungen
Im Ergebnis richten sich die Friedenserwartungen auf den Verfas­
sungsstaat, der sich in seiner Verfassung selbst auf das Friedensprinzip
bindet, dort eine Mitgliedschaft in Friedenssystemen gegenseitiger kol­
lektiver Sicherheit vorsieht, in einer Völkerrechtsoffenheit – in Europa
auch einer Europarechtsoffenheit – die Friedensbindungen vertieft
und weiterentwickelt.
Friedensgarant ist der Staat. Hätten wir einen Weltstaat oder alles
beherrschende Vereinte Nationen, so verlöre der einzelne Mensch das
Recht, auszuwandern und einzuwandern, Asyl zu suchen. Elementare
Freiheit würde durch potentielle Unterdrückung abgelöst, das
Friedenskonzept der Freiheit durch Konzentration von Macht und
Herrschaft gefährdet. Bürgernähe, kulturelle Vielfalt, auch eine Idee
der Gewaltenbalance zwischen den Staaten setzen auf den einzelnen
Staat und seine Friedensverantwortlichkeit.
Allerdings kann der Staat Garant und Gegner des Friedens sein. Den
Verfassungsstaaten gelingt es in der Regel, selbst Friedlichkeit zu wah­
ren und auf den Weltfrieden hinzuwirken. Andererseits sind die tradi­
tionellen Kriege stets durch Staaten geführt worden. Deswegen setzt
die Friedenspolitik auf den völkerrechtlich zur Friedlichkeit verpflich­
teten Staat, pflegt auch eine Gewaltenbalance zwischen den VN und
ihren Mitgliedstaaten.
Rüdiger Wolfrum macht sich diesen Friedensauftrag zu eigen.
Er dient mit seiner Wissenschaft, seiner Beratungstätigkeit und seinem
 frieden und friedensvoraussetzungen1233

richterlichen Wirken einem Recht, das den Krieg ächtet, Krisenherde

löscht, Zukunftsstrukturen der Friedlichkeit – auf den Meeren, in der
Antarktis, im Weltraum – aufbaut. Ihm für diese Leistungen zu danken
und für weitere Friedensvorhaben eine glückliche Hand zu wünschen,
haben wir allen Anlass.
Is There a Role for Law in a World Ruled by Power?

Tommy Koh

In this essay, I wish to discuss one of the most controversial questions

in international relations: the relationship between international law
and power. The Realists like to say that the world is ruled by power.
They tend to be dismissive of international law. I want to argue that
even in a world ruled by power, States need international law.

A. The Nature of Power

I shall begin by elucidating the concept of power. The Realists often

mistakenly think that power equals military power. This is not the case.
In his 2009 book, “Power Rules: How Common Sense Can Rescue
American Foreign Policy”, Leslie H. Gelb disaggregates power into its
three components: military power, economic power and foreign policy
power. Another American thinker on US foreign policy, Professor
Joseph Nye, has suggested a fourth component of power, namely, soft
power. The current US Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton, has said that
the Obama Administration will use the concept of smart power, which
is to use the optimum combination of the different components of
power, depending on the context and the circumstances. The Obama
Administration is not against the use of military power, but it will use
military power only as a last resort and when the war is just. My first
point is, therefore, that when the Realists say the world is ruled by
power, the term power includes not just military power, but also eco-
nomic power and soft power.

B. Do We Live in a World Ruled by Force?

The second point I wish to make is that we do not live in a world ruled
by force. To be sure, States do, from time to time, resort to force to
achieve their objectives. Many had hoped that with the end of the Cold
War the world would enter a more peaceful phase. According to the
Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI), there have
1236 tommy koh

been more armed conflicts in the world since the end of the Cold War
than during it. The conflicts were, however, mostly intra-State rather
than inter-State. My conclusion is that we will never live in a world
without wars.
It would, however, be a mistake to jump from this fact to the conclu-
sion that we live in a world ruled by force. On the contrary, I would
argue that we live in a relatively peaceful world and that resort to the
use of force to resolve inter-State disputes is a minority phenomenon.
According to SIPRI, fewer people died as a result of inter-State armed
conflict in 2009 than in any previous year. I would go on to make the
argument that, even for militarily powerful States, there are limits to
the use of force to secure their objectives. It may seem paradoxical, but
it is a historical fact that militarily powerful States do not always prevail
over their less powerful adversaries. The two most famous recent exam-
ples are Vietnam and Afghanistan. The United States did not prevail
over Vietnam and the Soviet Union did not prevail over Afghanistan.

C. Do We Live in a Lawless World?

My third point is that we do not live in a lawless world. We live in an

increasingly inter-connected and inter-dependent world. It is a world
bound together, not just by State interests, but also by international
organizations, regional groupings, international law, customs and
practices. The United States is, without question, the most powerful
State in the world. But even the most powerful State in the world can-
not act alone. It needs allies and friends. It cannot ignore the interests
and opinions of other States.
Let me use trade as an example. The US has to trade with other
countries in order to promote its prosperity and to create jobs. The US
is a member of the World Trade Organization (WTO). The US has to
accept the laws and rules governing international trade which have
been enacted by the WTO and its predecessor, GATT. Weaker States,
such as Australia and New Zealand, can refer a trade dispute with the
US to the dispute settlement body of the WTO for resolution. The US
cannot block the WTO from establishing a dispute panel. I chaired a
WTO dispute panel dealing with a dispute brought by Australia and
New Zealand against the United States. The panel found in favour of
Australia and New Zealand and against the US. Did the US comply
with the decision? As the most powerful State in the world, could the
 is there a role for law in a world ruled by power?1237

US have disregarded the decision and walked away? In theory, it could,

but in practice the US has always complied. Why? Because it is in the
enlightened self-interest of the US to do so. If the US decided to defy
the decisions of the WTO’s dispute settlement body, other States would
be tempted to emulate it. The result is that the whole system would be
undermined.
It is in the interests of all States, including the US, to uphold the rule
of law in the world. All States benefit more from a peaceful, orderly and
rules-based world than a chaotic, lawless and violent world.

D. The Limits of Military Power

Some Realists may object to my example taken from the world of

trade. Let me, therefore, cite another example. In 1990, Iraq decided to
invade Kuwait and incorporate it into Iraq. Iraq was militarily superior
to Kuwait and had no trouble overwhelming the Kuwaiti defence.
Was Iraq successful in using military force to conquer and acquire the
territory and resources of its weaker neighbour?
Iraq was not successful. The UN Security Council condemned the
invasion and demanded the withdrawal of Iraqi forces from Kuwait.
When Iraq refused to comply, the Security Council authorized the
use of force by a coalition of countries led by the US. Diplomatically,
Iraq was almost totally isolated. Militarily, the Iraqi forces suffered a
humiliating defeat and withdrew from Kuwait. Kuwait recovered its
sovereignty and independence.
I am not using the Kuwait case to say that the UN will always come
to the rescue of a small State which is the victim of aggression by a
more powerful State. But the historical record since the founding of the
UN in 1945 suggests that the unilateral use of force seldom leads to a
successful outcome. Let me cite the following examples to support my
contention: North Korea failed to conquer South Korea; the US with-
drew from Vietnam; the Soviet Union withdrew from Afghanistan;
Vietnam withdrew from Cambodia; Iraq withdrew from Kuwait; and
the US will soon withdraw from Iraq. Because the US did not obtain
the second UNSC resolution, it did not get the support of the world. As
a result, although the US succeeded in invading Iraq militarily, it did
not succeed in its post-invasion agenda because it did not have interna-
tional law on its side, and many of the allies and friends of the US were
unwilling to help.
1238 tommy koh

E. Is There a Role for Law in a World Ruled by Power?

Is there a role for law in a world ruled by power? My answer is yes.

I have already demonstrated that we do not live in a lawless world.
States interact with one another in many areas. Trade is just one of
them. Others include investment, tourism, aviation, shipping, telecom-
munications, the internet, banking, tax, mobility of workers, refugees,
terrorism, weapons of mass destruction, non-proliferation of nuclear
weapons, human rights, women’s rights, children’s rights, etc. What is
not very well known to the public is that in all these areas, as well as in
others, there are applicable international law, conventions, rules and
institutions.
This is a reality which has an impact on States as well as on individu-
als. Let me cite one example. Mobile phones have become a necessity
and not a luxury. They have transformed the world and empowered its
citizens. All of us make calls to friends at home and abroad on our
mobile phones. When we make such a call to a foreign friend, the call
is carried either by a submarine optic cable (95 per cent of the time) or
by a satellite. The submarine optic cables of the world are governed and
protected by international law, especially by the UN Convention on the
Law of the Sea. The satellites are governed by air and space law and
regulated by the International Telecommunications Union (ITU).

F. Conclusion

The inescapable conclusion is that international law permeates many

aspects of our lives. It provides the framework for international coop-
eration. It helps to make this a rules-based world. International law
supports the civilisation we enjoy. It is hard to imagine the kind of
world this would be if we did not have any international law. It would
be a nightmarish Hobbesian world.
It is, of course, true that, unlike in a domestic legal system, there is
no officer empowered to enforce the judgments and decisions of the
International Court of Justice, the International Tribunal for the Law of
the Sea, the WTO’s dispute settlement body, etc. But, does this mean
that they have no force and are not complied with? The truth is that
most States choose to comply most of the time. Why? Because they
consider it to be in their own self-interest to do so. What the Realists
sometimes do not understand is that all States, including the US,
choose to abide by international law because it is in their core interests
to have a peaceful, orderly, rules-based world.
 The Return of Piracy: Problems,
Parallels, Paradoxes

Hanspeter Neuhold

A. Introduction

TIME magazine included the Somali pirates among “The Ten People
Who Mattered” in the year 2008, and they keep making headlines to
this day. The re-emergence of this scourge of international navigation
has also given rise to legal problems which have been discussed exten-
sively in recent years. This author cannot offer any new insights, espe-
cially to experts on the law of the sea like Rüdiger Wolfrum, but will try
to provide some additional perspectives in terms of parallels at the
definitional level as well as paradoxes between legal options and their
implementation. It is also proposed to place piracy in Somalia in its
historical as well contemporary political and strategic context.

B. Piracy: A Historical Overview

Only a brief glance at the long history of piracy can be given in the
context of this essay.1 Most relevant to current counter-piracy strategies
are the general lessons which can be learned from history. The use of
force by private individuals against private vessels for the purpose of
material gain2 obviously flourished in periods when states and their
navies were weak and therefore unable effectively to control the oceans.
Pirates also prospered if and when the governments of states used and
supported them for their own political purposes. Furthermore, piracy
benefited from favourable geographical factors, such as long and/or
indented coasts or narrow straits. Poverty was a further incentive to
engage in pirate attacks despite the risks involved. In addition, the state
of navigation and military technology either facilitated piracy or made

1
See also M. Boot, Pirates, Then and Now, 88 Foreign Affairs 94, at 95 (2009);
H. Tuerk, The Resurgence of Piracy: A Phenomenon of Modern Times, 17 University
of Miami International and Comparative Law Review 1, at 1 (2009).
2
For a more sophisticated but also problematic official definition see below, at p. 8.
1240 hanspeter neuhold

it more difficult over the centuries. Last but not least, gaps in both
international and domestic law encouraged pirate activities.
Piracy can indeed be traced back to Antiquity. This is evidenced by
the origin of the word pirate. “Peira” means to “attempt” in classical
Greek3–in other words, a “peirates” was a person trying his luck at sea.
Early prominent victims of piracy included such figures of world his-
tory as Plato and Julius Cesar.4 It was another Roman political leader,
Pompey, who eliminated the pirate threat under special powers con-
ferred by the Lex Gabinia.
The Middle Ages, which were characterized by the lack of a strong
central power in Europe, witnessed the return of what fell under the
above definition of piracy, with the Vikings extending their looting
expeditions to the Black Sea and the rivers of eastern Europe,5 but also
the western part of the continent, including Italy and Spain, as well as
North Africa. Moreover, they sailed as far as Iceland, Greenland and
North America–astonishing technical, logistical and military feats,
given their small boats and the limited numbers of sailors/warriors
aboard them.
After the decline of central authority in China in the 13th century,
pirate attacks were, quite typically, mounted along the Chinese coast.
Piracy also took its toll of navigation and maritime trade along the
coasts of Japan and India.
From the 16th to the 19th centuries the Barbary corsairs from North
Africa terrorized the Mediterranean region, capturing around one mil-
lion Europeans whom they sold as slaves.6 At about the same time,
pirates called buccaneers, most of them of English, Dutch and French
origin, also throve in the Caribbean. Their main targets were Spanish
ships carrying, among other cargoes, precious metals.

3
A.P. Rubin, Piracy, in: R. Bernhardt (ed.), Encyclopedia of Public International
Law, Vol. III, 1036, at 1036 (1997).
4
According to Plutarch, Julius Cesar was taken prisoner by Cilician pirates in 75
BC. They initially demanded 20 talents of gold for his release, but Cesar insisted that he
was worth 50. After the ransom had been paid and he was released, Cesar raised a fleet,
captured the pirates and had them crucified.
5
Where Rurik laid the foundations of Russian civilization at Kiev.
6
The most famous and feared of these corsairs was Cheireddin Barbarossa
(The Redbeard). This threat was eliminated by France in the wake of the conquest of
Algeria in 1830. The fate of three European victims of Mediterranean piracy provided
the plot for Mozart’s “The Abduction from the Seraglio” first performed at the
Burgtheater in Vienna in 1782.
 the return of piracy: problems, parallels, paradoxes1241

Moreover, during those centuries European maritime powers

authorized robbery on the high seas, issuing letters of marque, a prac-
tice similar to the “privatization” or “outsourcing” of armed force today.
These privateers who captured merchant ships belonging to the enemy
of the state granting the authorization demanded to be treated as com-
batants but were often executed if taken prisoner.7 However, in the 19th
century state-sponsored piracy was increasingly regarded as detrimen-
tal to commercial interests. Consequently, the main maritime powers
changed their approach and eventually outlawed privateering under
the 1856 Paris Declaration Respecting Maritime Law.
Towards the end of the 19th century and in the first half of the 20th
century, piracy seemed to have been eradicated for good. If mentioned
at all, it was romanticized in novels, music and motion pictures.8
However, the 1960s saw the return of this maritime scourge, which has
developed from a regional into a global menace to international ship-
ping. Several of the above-mentioned and additional factors contrib-
uted to this disquieting development: the increase in commercial
maritime traffic, which accounts for 80% of world trade, and as a result
in “attractive” targets; so-called failed and other weak states unable
effectively to control their coasts and prosecute criminals; poverty and
unemployment, leading especially young men to look for illegal ways
of making a living; speedboats and modern automatic weapons as well
as up-to-date communications equipment readily available to them;
and gaps in the law applicable in the struggle against piracy.9
In the context of contemporary security policy, piracy is not the only
problem which was regarded as a matter of the past to have returned.
The same is true of diseases like tuberculosis and malaria which were
thought to be under control but today are again killing millions of vic-
tims, above all in Africa. As a result, the list of threats keeps growing,

7
A prominent privateer was Sir Francis Drake whose patron was Queen
Elizabeth I.
8
For instance, by Robert Louis Stevenson in his “Treasure Island” and W. S. Gilbert
and Arthur Sullivan in “The Pirates of Penzance”; “Pirate Jenny” in “The Threepenny
Opera” by Bertold Brecht and Kurt Weill also comes to mind. Famous film pirates and
privateers include Errol Flynn in “The Sea Hawk” and more recently Johnny Depp in
the “Pirates in the Caribbean” series, as well as Captain Hook, the arch enemy of Peter
Pan, in the animated cartoon version.
9
For the major maritime regions of contemporary piracy see: S.P. Menefee, An
Overview of Piracy in the First Decade of the 21th Century, in: M.H. Nordquist/
R. Wolfrum/J.N. Moore/R. Long (eds.), Legal Challenges in Maritime Security, 441
(2008).
1242 hanspeter neuhold

since new challenges also have to be added to it, from energy security
and climate change to cyber-terrorism and -warfare.

C. Somali Pirates: Background Factors and Activities

The case of Somalia provides a textbook example of the emergence of

piracy as a result of the above-mentioned factors.10 Firstly, the country
has been a failed state for almost two decades. Today’s Somali Republic
was created by the fusion between the British protectorate of Somaliland
and the former Italian Somaliland11 which was placed under Italian
trusteeship in 1949. Both territories became independent and were
subsequently united in 1960. However, no Somali nation and national
identity could develop in a poor and underdeveloped country where
rivalries and armed clashes between numerous clans dominated poli-
tics. In 1969, a coup d’état led to military dictatorship under President
Siad Barre whose government was in turn ousted in 1991. This was
followed by political chaos, protracted civil war and a growing humani-
tarian disaster.12
The half-hearted and short-lived efforts of the international com-
munity to end armed conflict and improve political and economic con-
ditions in Somalia failed. In April 1992, the United Nations (UN)
Security Council launched the United Nations Operation in Somalia
(UNOSOM I), a peacekeeping mission which proved unable to stop
violence and end the humanitarian catastrophe. Thereupon the U.S.-
led Unified Task Force (UNITAF) with a stronger mandate13 mounted
“Operation Restore Hope”, a name which eventually turned out to be a
bitter irony. The force did initially succeed in opening up supply routes
and getting food through to most of the needy areas.14 It was succeeded

10
P. Lehr/H. Lehmann, Somalia–Pirates’ Paradise, in: P. Lehr (ed.), Violence at Sea:
Piracy in the Age of Global Terrorism, 1, at 1 (2007).
11
The part of British Somaliland conquered by Fascist Italy under Benito Mussolini
in 1940 and retaken by the United Kingdom at the end of World War II.
12
More than 300,000 Somalis died of starvation within two years after the fall of
the military regime; some 700,000 became refugees: I. Lewis/J. Mayall, Somalia, in:
J. Mayall (ed.). The new interventionism 1991–1994: United Nations experience in
Cambodia, former Yugoslavia and Somalia 94, at 107 (1996); Lehr and Lehmann (note
10), at 9.
13
Para. 10 of SC Res. 794 of 3 December 1992 authorized it to use all necessary
means to establish as soon as possible a secure environment for humanitarian relief
operations in Somalia.
14
Lewis/Mayall (note 12), at 112.
 the return of piracy: problems, parallels, paradoxes1243

by UNOSOM II in accordance with Security Council Resolution 814 of

26 March 1993. UN troops soon became involved in armed clashes
with one of the Somali warlords, Mohamed Farrah Aidid, whose mili-
tia inflicted serious casualties on Pakistani and U.S. members of the
international force. The television pictures of the bodies of American
soldiers being dragged through the dusty streets of Mogadishu led to
an outcry of public opinion calling for the withdrawal of U.S. troops.
President Bill Clinton complied with this demand in 1994; the last
UNOSOM contingents left Somalia a year later.
Since 1991, Somalia has not had a government able to maintain law
and order and to provide basic services in the country. In 2010, the
country remained at the top of the list of failed states in the world.15
Piracy was not facilitated merely by the collapse of governmental
authority but also caused by economic developments. For, as a rule,
state failure goes hand in hand with declining living standards of the
population. In particular, the plight of Somali fishermen was made
worse by the depletion of fish stocks by foreign vessels fishing illegally
in the waters off the coast of Somalia.16 Moreover, the 2004 tsunami
also wrought havoc along the Somali coast, causing human casualties
and material damage, including to fishing gear.17 Consequently, piracy
became all the more attractive as an alternative way of making a
living.
Somali pirates also benefit from the geography of their country. The
coast of Somalia stretches for more than 3,000 kilometres and is close
to one of the main commercial navigation routes in the world. In addi-
tion, the necessary equipment is readily available and easily affordable,
given the often huge ransoms paid for the release of captured vessels
and their crews: high-speed fibreglass boats, automatic weapons, satel-
lite telephones and modern navigation gear. Moreover, shipowners
hesitate to protect their vessels by armed personnel aboard. They fear
that if pirates meet with armed resistance, thy will injure or kill crew

15
Ahead of Chad, Sudan and Zimbabwe, according to the Failed State Index pub-
lished by the Washington D.C.-based Fund for Peace. This index is based on 12 social,
economic and political indicators. Somalia was also the most corrupt country in the
world, followed by Afghanistan, Myanmar and Sudan, according to the Annual Report
2009 issued by Transparency International. This can hardly come as a surprise since
corruption is one of the criteria used in the Failed State Index.
16
Foreign vessels also dumped toxic waste in the waters off the Somali coast.
17
According to Lehr and Lehmann, 40,000–50.000 people were killed: Lehr/
Lehmann (note 10), at 14.
1244 hanspeter neuhold

members and damage the cargo carried by their ships, in particular

expensive flammable materials like oil. Owners may also decide not to
report hijackings of their vessels in order to avoid rises in insurance
premiums which could be higher than the ransom paid to pirates.
Further, pirates seem to enjoy considerable prestige in Somalia among
the rest of the population and can count on support. The consequences
of getting caught if their attack on a ship fails appear negligible in com-
parison with the gains if they succeed. All these factors play into the
hands of the Somali pirates and reduce the risks they incur.
These African pirates have been indiscriminate in their attacks, both
with regard to the type and the nationality of the vessels hijacked by
them. They seized cruise ships and luxury yachts, fishing trawlers and
cargo ships, oil tankers and even World Food Programme vessels car-
rying humanitarian aid to their starving compatriots in Somalia.
As for the flags flown by their victims, Somali pirates were not guided
by any political bias or ideology. They not only attacked or tried to
attack ships from Western states, including the United States, the
United Kingdom and France, but also Russian and Chinese vessels, as
well as ships flying the flags of Muslim countries.
To mention only a few, particularly spectacular (for various reasons)
cases, the Sirius Star, a tanker owned by the Saudi company Aramco,
was hijacked by Somali pirates on 17 November 2008, becoming the
largest ship to fall victim to piracy at that point in time. With a crew of
25, she carried two million barrels of crude oil, more the one-quarter of
Saudi-Arabia’s daily oil production output, worth at least US$100million.
The pirates initially demanded a ransom of $25million but eventually
settled for $3million, releasing the vessel almost two months after her
capture on 9 January 2009.
The U.S. cargo ship Maersk Alabama made headlines for another
reason. She was seized by four Somali pirates on 8 April 2009 but recap-
tured by her crew. Three pirates18 took the Captain, Richard Philipps,
prisoner and fled in a lifeboat. Four days later, Navy SEAL snipers shot
the three captors in the head and freed the captain who received a
hero’s welcome in the United States.19
The case of the Italian Buccaneer tugboat is included here because
of the irony that a ship with this name was hijacked by pirates on 16

18
The fourth pirate was overpowered by crew members aboard the Maersk Alabama.
19
Ironically, the Maersk Alabama was again assaulted by four pirates some 350 nau-
tical miles east of Somalia later that year, on 18 November 2009, but this time the attack
failed after guards on board responded with small arms fire and acoustical weapons.
 the return of piracy: problems, parallels, paradoxes1245

April 2009. They reportedly reduced their ransom demands from

US$30million to 2.5million. The vessel was eventually released on 9
August 2009, with the Italian Foreign Minister Franco Frattini and the
manager of the company owning the Buccaneer denying that any pay-
ments had been made.20
On 24 September 2009, Somali pirates launched a particularly bold
attack on the Somali cargo ship Barwaqo close to the harbour of the
capital city Mogadishu, killing the Syrian captain and wounding sev-
eral crewmen. However, Somali police and African Union peacekeep-
ers rescued the vessel.
Somali pirates also make mistakes. On 7 October 2009, they tried at
night to seize the flagship of the French naval forces operating off the
Somali coast, the Somme, believing her to be a cargo vessel. The pirates
realized their error too late and were captured.
On 4 April 2010, Somali pirates seized the South Korean supertanker
Samho Dream in the Indian Ocean, some 1,500 kilometres southeast of
the Gulf of Aden. They set a new “record” by seizing the largest vessel
ever to become the victim of piracy, slightly bigger than the Sirius Star.
The ship carried around two million barrels of crude oil valued at
approximately US$170million.21
According to the International Maritime Bureau, a unit of the
International Chamber of Commerce established in 1981 as focal point
in the struggle against all types of maritime crime, the number of
reported piracy incidents rose for the fourth consecutive year in 2009,
from 293 in 2008 to 406.22 With 217 incidents, Somali pirates accounted
for more than half of the total number for 2009. There was a shift in the
main area of their attacks from the Gulf of Aden to the Indian Ocean
due to anti-piracy patrols by major naval powers in the former zone.23
For the period from January to June 2010, the Bureau reported posi-
tive and negative developments. On the one hand, it recorded a nota-
ble decline in the global number of pirate attacks, which totalled 196
compared with 240 in the first half of 2009, with the international naval
presence in the Gulf of Aden playing a key role. Pirate incidents in
these waters dropped from 86 in the first half of 2009 to 33 in the same

20
However, such statements may be read with a grain of salt.
21
The Samho Dream did not have any armed guards aboard because she was steam-
ing in waters not regarded as high-risk areas for pirate attacks.
22
International Chamber of Commerce, 2009 Worldwide piracy figures surpass 400,
available at http://www.icc-ccs.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id
=385:2009.
23
See below, at 18.
1246 hanspeter neuhold

period of last year. But on the other hand, the area of attacks by Somali
pirates continued to expand, to the coasts of Kenya, Tanzania, the
Seychelles, and even Madagascar in the Indian Ocean and Oman in the
Arabian Sea, where attacks were launched from larger “mother ships”
from which smaller boats can take to the sea. Some incidents took
place 1,000 nautical miles from the Somali coast. Furthermore, Somali
pirates have become more brutal and aggressive, firing their automatic
weapons and rocket-propelled grenades.24

D. Rules of International Law Governing Piracy

I. Legal Definition of Piracy

The legal rules on piracy were codified, above all, in the 1982 UN
Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS). The provisions of this
treaty reiterated the provisions in Articles 14–22 of the 1958 UN
Geneva Convention on the High Seas,25 an indication that in the mean-
time no new developments had occurred in practice which necessi-
tated modifications of existing or the addition of new rules.
The definition of piracy in Article 101 UNCLOS is widely accepted
in spite of the problems it raises:
(a) any illegal acts of violence or detention, or any act of depredation,
committed for private ends by the crew or the passengers of a pri-
vate ship or a private aircraft, and directed:
(i) on the high seas, against another ship or aircraft, or against per-
sons or property on board of such ship or aircraft;
(ii)  against a ship, aircraft, persons or property in a place outside
the jurisdiction of any State;
(b) any act of voluntary participation in the operation of a ship or of
an aircraft with knowledge of facts making it a pirate ship or
­aircraft;
(c) any act of inciting or of intentionally facilitating an act described in
subparagraph (a) or (b).

24
See also the Wikipedia list of ships attacked by Somali pirates since 2005 with
basic information on these attacks, available at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of
_ships_attacked_by_Somali_pirates.
25
Which in turn was based on the 1932 Harvard Law School Draft. 26
American ­Jour­nal of International Law (AJIL), Supplement, at 739 (1932); Rubin (note
3), at 1038.
 the return of piracy: problems, parallels, paradoxes1247

This definition is limited in several important respects.26 Firstly, it

requires the involvement of two ships27 and thus excludes acts perpe-
trated on board a vessel by its passengers or crew.
Secondly, in terms of maritime space, piracy is restricted to the high
seas and places outside the jurisdiction of any state but does not include
violence in a state’s internal waters, territorial sea or archipelagic waters.
No problems should arise if coastal states are able to exercise effective
control over and take effective action against attacks on private ships in
their waters.28 But should these states be unable or unwilling to do so,
effective counter-piracy may require action by other states in these
waters. However, considerations of effectiveness calling for the geo-
graphical extension of universal jurisdiction over pirates29 clash with
concerns especially of small and weak states over encroachments on
their territorial sovereignty by the navies of their more powerful peers.
The apprehensions of the former are obviously taken into account in
the Convention.
Thirdly, according to the above definition, piracy can only be com-
mitted by private ships and not by warships or other government ships,
unless the crew of such a vessel has mutinied and seized the vessel.30
Fourthly, piracy is perpetrated above all, but not exclusively, for pri-
vate ends, above all material gain.31
This last limitation is relevant to the distinction between piracy and
another unlawful activity the definition of which has also given rise

26
 On the shortcomings of the UNCLOS rules on piracy see M. Murphy, Piracy and
UNCLOS: Does International Law Help Regional States Combat Piracy?, in: Lehr (ed.)
(note 10), 155, at 159; see also R. Wolfrum, Fighting Terrorism at Sea: Options and
Limitations Under International Law, in: Nordquist/Wolfrum/Moore/Long (eds.)
(note 9), 3, at 7.
27
While the vessel from which the piratical attack is launched must be a private
ship, the victim vessel need not be: I. Shearer, Piracy, in: R. Wolfrum (ed.), Max Planck
Encyclopedia of Public International Law, available at http://www.mpepil.com (2008–
2011). Piracy may also be committed against aircraft. However, this essay will focus on
maritime and will not deal with aerial piracy.
28
Article 3 UNCLOS extended the breadth of the territorial sea to twelve nautical
miles, beyond the previous most widely accepted three nautical miles.
29
See below, at 17.
30
Article 102 UNCLOS.
31
 Other “private” motivations could be hatred or revenge. See Tuerk (note 1), at 11,
referring to the travaux préparatoires of the International Law Commission on the
issue. The private character of piracy is sometimes overlooked when the term is used,
for example by those critics who denounced as piracy the boarding and seizure of
the flotilla trying to break the Israeli blockade of Gaza by Israeli commandos on
31 May 2010.
1248 hanspeter neuhold

to difficulty: (maritime) terrorism. While pirates act for their private

purposes, terrorists pursue political goals, ranging from the assassina-
tion of hated individuals, first and foremost political leaders, to funda-
mentally changing the entire legal and political system in a state or
even on a global scale, for instance by introducing the sharia.32
The counterpart to Article 101 UNCLOS is Article 2 (1) (b) of the
1999 UN Convention for the Suppression of the Financing of Terrorism
which may be quoted as the most widely recognized definition of
terrorism:33
“Any act, in addition to acts already specified by the existing conven-
tions on aspects of terrorism, the Geneva Conventions and the Security
Council Resolution 1566 (2004), intended to cause death or serious
bodily injury to a civilian, or to any person not taking an active part in
the hostilities in a situation of armed conflict, when the purpose of
such act, by its nature or context, is to intimidate a population, or to
compel a government or an international organization to do or abstain
from doing any act.”
Some of the apparent gaps in this definition are filled in by the other
conventions referred to.34 Thus at first sight, Article 2 (1) (b) seems to
be limited to violence against human beings. However, the 1997
International Convention for the Suppression of Terrorist Bombings
lists other targets, ranging from places of public use and a state or gov-
ernment facility to a public transportation system and an infrastruc-
ture facility. Yet, terrorist attacks on, for example, private residences are
not covered.
Moreover, the 1999 Convention restricts terrorist acts to those
intended to cause death or serious bodily injury and thus does not
cover kidnapping and the taking of hostages, another major terrorist

32
H. Neuhold, International Terrorism: Definitions, Challenges and Responses, in:
D. Mahncke/J. Monar (eds.), International Terrorism: A European Response to a
Global Threat?, at 23 (2006).
33
This definition is almost identical to that adopted by the prestigious High-level
Panel on Threats, Challenges and Change appointed by UN Secretary-General Kofi
Annan in para. 164 (d) of its 2004 report entitled “A more secure world: Our shared
responsibility”. Its main elements can also be found in the definition on which the EU
Council agreed in 2002: Neuhold (note 32), at 26.
34
This technique, which has the advantage of shortening Article 2 (1) (b), cer-
tainly does not facilitate the application of the definition and may lead to
misunderstandings.
 the return of piracy: problems, parallels, paradoxes1249

activity. This gap has in turn been filled in by the 1979 International
Convention against the Taking of Hostages.35
Another problematic limitation is the requirement that terrorist acts
have to be directed against civilians or any other person not taking part
in hostilities in an armed conflict. Consequently, attacks on members
of the armed forces, especially in times of peace, would not constitute
terrorism. However, the wording of operative clause 3 of Security
Council Resolution 1566 of 8 October 2004 “criminal acts, including
[italics added] against civilians,” implies that a terrorist attack may also
target non-civilians, i.e. members of the military.36
These comments are meant to point to a parallel: the difficulties of
formulating comprehensive and at the same time easily applicable legal
definitions. These problems are not only due to the conceptual com-
plexity of the notion to be defined but also caused by political contro-
versies based on divergent interests between the states whose agreement
is needed for the definition.
Like piracy, maritime terrorism has become a threat to navigation in
recent decades, with the seizure of the Italian cruise ship Achille Lauro
in 1985 by four PLO members. They killed the disabled U.S. passenger
Leon Klinghoffer and threw his body overboard, attracting worldwide
attention.37 This incident led to the conclusion of the 1988 Rome
Convention for the Suppression of Unlawful Acts against the Safety of
Maritime Navigation and the related Protocol for the Suppression of
Unlawful Acts against the Safety of Fixed Platforms on the Continental
Shelf, as well as the 2005 Protocols thereto adopted in the wake of the
terrorist attacks of 11 September 2001.38

35
According to Article 1, hostage-taking is perpetrated by any person who
seizes or detains and threatens to kill, injure or continue to detain another person (the
“hostage”) in order to compel a third party, namely, a State, an international intergov-
ernmental organization, a natural or juridical person, a group of persons, to do or
abstain from doing any act as an explicit or implicit condition for the release of the
hostage.
36
It may also be noted that the purpose of a terrorist act merely needs to be intimi-
dation, a broad term compared with panic or terror. The target of intimidation must be
an entire population, while a large number of persons belonging to a population would
not suffice if the definition were interpreted literally.
37
The assassination of this unfortunate passenger was transferred to the opera stage
by John Adams. His controversial opera “The Death of Klinghoffer” was first per-
formed at the Théâtre de la Monnaie in Brussels in 1991.
38
Article 3 of the Convention lists seven unlawful acts, beginning with the unlawful
and intentional seizure or exercise of control over a ship by force, threat, or intimida-
tion and an act of violence against a person on board a ship if that act is likely to endan-
ger the safe navigation of the ship. See M. Halberstam, Terrorism on the High Seas: The
1250 hanspeter neuhold

In practice, the line between terrorism and (organized) crime is

sometimes blurred. The decisive criterion, the intention of a person
engaging in a given activity, is not always clear. Furthermore, terrorists
and “common” criminals frequently cooperate. For instance, pirates
may use the ransom paid for the release of captured vessels and crew
members to buy weapons from terrorists who have access to military
hardware. Such collaboration is reported in Somalia between pirates
and Islamist Al-Shabbab (“The Youth”) militias, which in turn are sus-
pected of ties to Al-Qaeda.39 Moreover, terrorists may claim to fight for
political causes but (also) act for reasons of personal enrichment, and
thus for non-political ends. Conversely, “plain” criminals may resort to
violence for political ends against governments which interfere with
their various activities, as the Mafia did in Italy.40

II. Universal Jurisdiction over Hostes Humani Generis: Legal Theory

and Political Reality
The principle that all states may take military and legal action against
pirates can be traced back to Antiquity. Cicero denounced pirates as
hostes humani generis, as enemies of mankind.41 This notion is due to
the fact that pirates tend to attack ships regardless of the flag the latter
fly, provided they expect to seize the vessel without encountering

Achille Lauro, Piracy and the IMO Convention on Maritime Safety, 82 AJIL, 269, at
291 (1988); Wolfrum, (note 26), at 12; H. Tuerk, Combating Terrorism at Sea: The
Suppression of Unlawful Acts Against the Safety of Maritime Navigation, in: Nordquist/
Wolfrum/Moore/Long (eds.) (note 9), 41.
39
Al-Shabbab recently extended its activities beyond Somalia. On 11 July 2010, it
caused a bloodbath in the Ugandan capital, Kampala, staging two attacks on spectators
watching the football World Cup final on television. Uganda is a major contributor to
the African Union peace force in Somalia and also trains Somali forces. The attack
could be seen as a warning to African governments not to send troops to Somalia in
order to reinforce the African Union military presence in the country. See below, at 20.
In Somalia, on 24 August 2010, al-Shabaab fighters stormed the Muna hotel located in
the same district of Mogadishu as the heavily guarded presidential palace. More than
30 victims, including members of the Somali parliament, were killed by the extremists.
On 9 September 2010, al-Shabaab terrorists chose Mogadishu airport as their target,
killing a number of civilians and two African Union peacekeepers.
40
At least initially, Somali pirates might have claimed that they were acting instead
of their ineffective government and protecting fishing grounds from illegal foreign
exploitation or preventing the dumping of toxic waste in Somalia’s territorial waters:
D. Guilfoyle, Piracy off Somalia: Security Council Resolution 1816 and IMO Regional
Counter-Piracy Efforts, 57 International Comparative Law Quarterly 690, at 699
(2008).
41
 Or later in the words of Blackstone, “a pirate … by renouncing all the benefits of
society and … by declaring war against mankind, all mankind must declare war against
him”: Murphy (note 26), at 161.
 the return of piracy: problems, parallels, paradoxes1251

effective resistance and find attractive bounty aboard. The principle of

universal jurisdiction is also enshrined in Article 105 UNCLOS which
reads as follows:
“On the high seas, or in any place outside the jurisdiction of any
State, every State may seize a pirate ship or aircraft, or a ship or aircraft
taken by piracy and under the control of the pirates, and arrest the
persons and seize the property aboard. The courts of the State which
carried out the seizure may decide upon the penalties to be imposed,
and may also determine the action to be taken with regard to the ships,
aircraft or property, subject to the rights of third parties acting in good
faith.”42
Moreover, according to Article 100 UNCLOS, all states shall cooper-
ate to the fullest possible extent in the repression of piracy.43
The attitudes and policies of governments in their struggle against
piracy off the coast of Somalia are paradoxical. On the one hand, piracy
is regarded as a global threat avant la lettre in the elimination of which
all seafaring nations had and more than ever continue to have an obvi-
ous interest. On the other hand, states are rather reluctant to arrest and
prosecute Somali pirates even if ships flying their flag have been cap-
tured by the latter. Sometimes, they even release apprehended pirates
or do not arrest them in the first place.
The reasons most frequently given for these responses are hardly
convincing. For example, the costs of prosecution, in particular those
of transporting witnesses and evidence from remote countries to the
state where the pirates stand trial, are claimed to be prohibitive. In
some states, piracy is not a crime under domestic law so that there is no
basis for legal action. States parties to the European Convention on
Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms worry that Somali pirates
may ask for asylum on the ground that they would face torture or the
death penalty if sent back to their country. Furthermore, there are con-
cerns that after being granted asylum and serving their sentences
pirates may request reunion with members of their families; the pros-
pect of hosting entire pirate clans is another disincentive. Difficulties in
certain cases with fulfilling the obligation to bring an arrested or
detained person promptly before a judge or another officer authorized

42
This rule constitutes an exception to the principle under which the flag state has
exclusive jurisdiction over its ships on the high seas.
43
While according to the wording of UNCLOS international cooperation against
piracy is thus obligatory (“shall”), seizure and prosecution are left to the discretion
(“may”) of each state party to the Convention. Tuerk (note 1), at 17.
1252 hanspeter neuhold

by law to exercise judicial power and the right to trial within a reason-
able time are also mentioned in this context.
Most of these arguments can be rebutted. At least for wealthy
developed countries, legal action against piracy ought to be afforda-
ble. The lack of a domestic legal basis for prosecuting pirates could
easily be remedied by appropriate legislation. Respect for human
rights such as the right to a fair trial should not constitute a genuine
problem. Moreover, the certainty of being sentenced and spending
many years in prison in a foreign country ought to have a deterrent
effect on pirates. Even if they are granted asylum, living in a country
where almost everything is unfamiliar, if not hostile–the way of life,
the people, the language, the climate–may not appear an attractive
option to many of them, even if they are eventually reunited with their
families.
It is submitted that the main reasons for the reluctance to prose-
cute pirates lie elsewhere. States taking legal action may worry that
their ships will become primary targets for future attacks by other
members of a pirate organization. Pirates may take crew members
of a hijacked vessel hostage not only to extract money but also to
obtain the freedom of their detained comrades. This would place
governments in an even more embarrassing situation than demands
for ransom in exchange for the release of a hijacked ship and its crew.
For it is easier to deny the payment of money than to conceal the fact
that prisoners have been allowed to go free. There may also be appre-
hensions that pirates could use their ties to terrorist networks for
attacks by the latter on targets in the prosecuting country or on its
nationals abroad.
These expected negative effects may offset the costs of failing to take
effective legal action against piracy. However, these costs should not be
underrated. The prospect of facing no legal sanctions even if captured
is likely to swell the ranks of pirates not just in Somalia. As a result,
damage to ships and cargoes, at least delays in their delivery, will
increase, as will insurance costs.
Several states, including Canada, China, Denmark, the United
Kingdom and the United States, as well as the EU have sought a solu-
tion to this dilemma by concluding agreements with Kenya under
which pirates captured by their warships were to be tried in that
country neighbouring Somalia. However, “sub-contracting” or “out-
sourcing” criminal proceedings by transferring the trial of Somali
 the return of piracy: problems, parallels, paradoxes1253

pirates to Kenya was problematic.44 The latter state can hardly be called
a beacon of the respect for human rights, including those particularly
relevant to the treatment of detainees and fair trial. Thus, according to
the 2009 Human Rights Report compiled by the Bureau of Democracy,
Human Rights, and Labor of the U.S. Department of State, Kenyan
police frequently used violence and torture during interrogations and
as punishment of pre-trial detainees and convicted prisoners. Prison
and detention centre conditions continued to be harsh and life threat-
ening, with reports of torture, insanitary conditions and overcrowding.
The judiciary was criticized for corruption at all levels. The vast major-
ity of defendants could not afford representation and were tried with-
out legal counsel. All this boded ill for the proper administration of
justice, as did the possibility that Kenyan officials including judges
might sympathize with pirates from another African country who
fought against ships of former colonial masters. The fact that Kenya is
ranked fourteenth on the above-mentioned list of failed states was also
not encouraging.45
These reservations were overtaken by events when Kenya cancelled
those agreements in the spring of 2010 because its courts and prisons
were packed and could not cope with the numbers of pirates handed
over to them. Thereupon the Security Council asked Secretary-General
Ban Ki-moon on 27 April 2007 to report on options for special regional
or international tribunals and corresponding imprisonment arrange-
ments. In his 2010 report the Secretary-General identified seven such
options.46

44
Part of this “division of labour” is the presence aboard a patrolling ship of ship-
riders, i.e. law enforcement officials, from the country which has agreed to prosecute
captured pirates. This practice was endorsed in para. 3 of SC Res. 1851 of 16 December
2008. For further details on this resolution see below, at p. 17.
45
Similarly, the fact that in April 2010 the International Criminal Court approved
an investigation into the deadly violence in the wake of the 2007 election in Kenya, in
which more than 1,200 people were reported killed, several hundreds raped and more
than 350,000 forcibly displaced, was not a recommendation for proceedings in the
country.
46
UN Document S 2010/394 of 29 July 2010, A brutal “solution” to the problem was
applied to the Somali pirates who hijacked the Russian oil tanker with the original
name Moscow University in the Gulf of Aden on 7 May 2010. A Russian warship freed
the vessel and its crew and captured the pirates. The Russian authorities initially
announced that the pirates would be taken to Russia for trial but subsequently changed
their minds. The Russian Defence Ministry pointed to “imperfections” in international
law and released the pirates. They were set free aboard one of the small boats which
1254 hanspeter neuhold

In the meantime, however, sporadic legal action has been taken

against Somali pirates. On 18 May 2010, Abduwali Abdukhakir Muse
pleaded guilty in a New York City district court to charges that he took
part in the above-mentioned hijacking of the Maersk Alabama and the
hostage taking of its captain in April 2009.47 The same day, a court in
Yemen sentenced six Somali pirates to death and six other pirates to ten
years in prison for hijacking the Yemeni oil tanker Qana in April 2009,
killing one Yemeni crew member, leaving another missing and wound-
ing four. On 17 June 2010, in the first such trial in Europe, a Netherlands
court sentenced five Somalis whose attack on the Samanyolu, a
Netherlands Antilles-flagged ship, in the Gulf of Aden had failed in
January 2009.48 In another trial in the United States, District Judge
Raymond Jackson in Norfolk, Virginia, dismissed piracy charges. He
agreed with defence lawyers that six Somalis who were captured after
opening fire on the USS Ashland in the Gulf of Aden in April 2010 had
not committed acts of piracy because they did not board or take con-
trol of the vessel nor take anything of value from it.

E. The Security Council Facilitating Counter-Piracy

Operations by Removing Legal Restrictions

The above-mentioned spatial limitation in Article 101 UNCLOS

proved a major obstacle to effective counter-piracy measures against
Somali pirates who either seized ships within or retreated to the terri-
torial waters of Somalia after an attack on the high seas. The “normal”
legal remedy would be an amendment to the Convention. However,
this solution would not only be time-consuming at a time when
rapid action is required; it would also be opposed by many contract-
ing parties, especially from the Third World, which, as pointed
out above, object to restrictions on their sovereignty over their territo-
rial sea.
The way out of this dilemma was provided by the UN Security
Council not on a general but a special basis limited to Somalia. Acting
within the framework of Chapter VII of the Charter, the Coun­
cil authorized the use of force within the territorial waters and

they had used for their attack, not only unarmed but also without food and naviga-
tional devices, so that they were in all probability sent to their deaths.
47
Sentencing was scheduled for 19 October 2010.
48
 One of the five promptly applied for asylum, stating that nobody wanted to go
back to Somalia but that he wished to live in democratic country.
 the return of piracy: problems, parallels, paradoxes1255

subsequently also on the mainland of Somalia. However, since the

Council acted with the consent of the Transitional Federal Government
of Somalia (TFG),49 its resolutions merely strengthened the legal basis
for military action against the pirates for which the agreement of the
Somali authorities would have sufficed.50
In Resolution 1816 of 2 June 2008, the Security Council decided that
States cooperating with the TFG in the fight against piracy and armed
robbery at sea off the coast of Somalia may:
“(a) Enter the territorial waters of Somalia for the purpose of repress-
ing acts of piracy and armed robbery at sea51 … and
(b) Use, within the territorial waters of Somalia, … all necessary
means to repress acts of piracy and armed robbery;”52
In light of the above-mentioned concerns of many coastal states, the
Council affirmed that its authorization applied only to the situation in
Somalia and underscored in particular that it should not be considered
as establishing customary international law.53 This was the price paid
for the unanimous adoption of the resolution.54
Six months later, the Security Council decided in Resolution 1851 of
16 December 2008 that “States and regional organizations … may
undertake all necessary measures that are appropriate in Somalia,

49
In November 2007 the International Maritime Organization (IMO) had asked the
TFG to inform the Council of its consent to anti-piracy operations by other states in its
territorial sea: Tuerk (note 1), at 22.
50
Like the NATO-led International Security Assistance Force (ISAF) in Afghanistan.
It operates with the consent of the Afghan government as well as on the basis of a
Security Council authorization. See SC Res. 1386 of 20 December 2001.
51
The Security Council did not define armed robbery. In IMO terminology it refers
to acts identical or similar to piracy but not covered by the UNCLOS definition because
they are perpetrated in waters under the jurisdiction of a state. Armed robbery also
includes illegal violence in which only one ship is involved, an extension not relevant
to Somali piracy: T. Treves, Piracy, Law of the Sea, and Use of Force: Developments off
the Coast of Somalia, 20 European Journal of International Law 399, at 403 (2009).
52
SC Res. 1816 of 2 June 2008, para. 7.
53
Id., para. 9. The Security Council’s legislative activities, i.e. the enactment of
general abstract rules binding on all states, against two main threats to international
security, terrorism in SC Res. 1373 of 28 September 2001 and the proliferation of weap-
ons of mass destruction in SC Res. 1540 of 28 April 2004, met with criticism because
they are not provided for in the UN Charter: A. Marschik, Legislative Powers of
the Security Council, in: R.St. John Macdonald/D.M. Johnson (eds.), Towards World
Constitutionalism, at 457 (2005); J.D. Aston, Die Bekämpfung abstrakter Gefahren für
den Weltfrieden durch legislative Maßnahmen des Sicherheitsrates–Resolution 1373
(2001) im Kontext, 62 Zeitschrift für ausländisches öffentliches Recht und Völkerrecht.
Heidelberg Journal of International Law, at 257 (2002).
54
Guilfoyle (note 40), at 697; Treves (note 51), at 405.
1256 hanspeter neuhold

for the purpose of suppressing acts of piracy and armed robbery at sea,
pursuant to the request of the TFG…”55
This resolution was adopted in the wake of the seizure of the French
luxury yacht Le Ponant by Somali pirates on 4 April 2008. French forces
tracked down and captured six pirates on the Somali mainland and
recovered some of the ransom money paid for the release of the ship
and its crew. Although the Somali government had approved the oper-
ation, it seemed desirable further to clarify the legal situation.56

F. Military Action Taken by the International

Community against Somali Pirates

Somali pirates are perceived as a major menace by the international

community irrespective of conflicts opposing some of its members to
each other.57 As a result, individual states, including all permanent
members of the UN Security Council, as well as India and Japan, and
international organizations, the North Atlantic Treaty Organization
(NATO)58 as well as the European Union (EU), are all engaged in coun-
ter-piracy operations off the coast of Somalia. The EU launched its first
naval mission, “Operation Atalanta”,59 in December 2008 on the basis

55
SC Res. 1851 of 16 December 2008, para. 6.
56
Treves (note 51), at 404.
57
For instance, the European Security Strategy “A secure Europe in a better world”
adopted by the European Council on 12 December 2003 already mentioned the growth
of piracy as a new dimension to organized crime which would merit further
attention.
58
Since August 2009 with “Operation Ocean Shield” which was preceded by
“Operation Allied Provider” and “Operation Allied Protector”.
59
Like the codenames of the EU peacekeeping missions in the Democratic Republic
of the Congo (“Artemis”) and in Bosnia and Herzegovina (“Althea”), the choice of
Atalanta, another character from Greek mythology, is puzzling. Atalanta was a fierce
hunter who, together with Meleager, killed the Calydonian Boar sent by Artemis who
was furious that King Oineus had forgotten her at a sacrifice. The killing of the boar
was painted, for example by Peter Paul Rubens and his assistants whose canvas is dis-
played at the Kunsthistorische Museum in Vienna. According to another version, an
oracle told beautiful Atalanta, who was also a superb athlete, that marriage would ruin
her. She therefore promised to marry a suitor only if he could beat her in a foot race;
however, if he lost, he would also lose his life. Eventually, she fell in love with her suitor
Hippomenes, but the fateful race had to take place. With the help of Aphrodite
Hippomenes won the race and Atalanta’s hand in marriage. The question of where the
Somali pirates come in arises: as Hippomenes–who outran Atalanta? Or as the
Calydonian Boar? If so, it should be borne in mind that it was Meleager and not
Atalanta who killed the beast.
 the return of piracy: problems, parallels, paradoxes1257

of Council Joint Action 2008/851 CFSP of 10 November 2008 in which

in turn relevant Security Council resolutions were invoked.60
Yet, despite some successes,61 these efforts have so far failed to eradi-
cate the threat to maritime navigation around the Horn of Africa and
beyond. This is at first sight astonishing, since the navies of the most
powerful states with highly sophisticated military technology are
involved. However, the fight against Somali pirates again illustrates the
problems of asymmetrical warfare62 which, for example, the United
States confronted in Vietnam and is currently facing in Iraq and, above
all, in the struggle against the Taliban and Al-Qaeda in the rugged
mountains of Afghanistan and Pakistan. Modern cruisers and destroy-
ers with their high-precision guns may successfully take on similar
military vessels in naval battles. But their weapons are rather useless
against small groups of enemies using high-speed skiffs.
Moreover, states hesitate to use the authorization in Security Council
Resolution 1851 to extend counter-piracy operations to the Somali
mainland. This may also be surprising. In particular great powers,
which sometimes even resort to unlawful or legally dubious armed
force could be expected to rely on this authorization quite readily, all
the more so since the scourge of peaceful navigation can only be
extinguished if the Somali pirates’ land-based strongholds are elimi-
nated. The reluctance of states to use military means against pirate
bases on the territory of Somalia thus constitutes a paradox similar to
the above-mentioned reluctance to prosecute captured Somali pirates.
It can be explained by the difficulties of distinguishing pirates who do
not wear uniforms from the rest of the population. Military action
aimed at pirates is therefore likely to entail “collateral” human casual-
ties and material damage. The killing of innocent villagers and the
destruction of the homes and means of livelihood of already desper-
ately poor people are likely to meet with domestic and international
criticism. Moreover, there is the serious risk of violent conflict with the

60
Its mandate included the protection of World Food Programme and merchant
vessels and taking the necessary measures, including the use of force, against piracy
and armed robbery in an area up to 500 nautical miles off the coast of Somalia and
neighbouring countries.
61
Recently including, for example, a pre-dawn helicopter raid by U.S. Marines
which freed the hijacked German-owned Magellan Star and arrested nine Somali
pirates without firing a shot on 9 September 2010.
62
Asymmetrical warfare is practised by a technologically weaker opponent who
attacks the weak spots of the stronger adversary while evading the latter’s strengths.
1258 hanspeter neuhold

well-armed local militias. The regular armies of most states are not
trained for asymmetrical desert warfare. Furthermore, in the case of
Somalia negative memories of failed peacekeeping operations linger. In
particular, the images of the bodies of U.S. soldiers being dragged
through the streets of the Somali capital less than 20 years ago are not
forgotten by the American public.63 Quite significantly, NATO and the
EU have refrained from military engagement in Somalia64 and leave the
task of contributing to peace and stability in the country to an under-
staffed and insufficiently equipped African Union Mission in Somalia
(AMISOM).65
However, the problem of Somali piracy can be solved only on the
mainland, but not just and not primarily by force of arms. What is nec-
essary is to transform Somalia from a failed into a functioning and
stable state, with effective institutions upholding law and order, respect
for fundamental human rights and an economy meeting at least the
basic needs of the population. This task requires a major international
“peace-building” effort, not just the allocation of substantial financial
means but also sustained assistance in numerous fields, from agricul-
ture to infrastructure, from education to the health sector. However,
the present global economic crisis does not augur well for the readiness
of the international community not only to deal with the symptoms but
also to tackle the root causes of piracy off the coast of Somalia.

63
See above, at 5.
64
The EU is conducting the European Union Training Mission Somalia (EUTM
Somalia) which is to contribute to the training of Somali security forces on the basis of
Council Decisions 2010/96/CFSP of 15 February 2010 and 2010/197/CFSP of 31
March 2010. This mission, on which the Council agreed on 25 January 2010, takes
place in Uganda where Somali forces have already been trained.
65
Which received a mandate including the authorization to use force from the UN
Security Council in SC Res. 1744 of 27 January 2007. Around 30 of the about 5,000
AMISOM soldiers from Burundi and Uganda had lost their lives by mid-2010.
 The Crime of Aggression before the
International Criminal Court

Kirsten Schmalenbach*

On June 11, 2010, in Kampala, Uganda, in a completely unexpected

turn of events, the States Parties to the Rome Statute of the International
Criminal Court (ICC) reached a consensus on the details of the crime
of aggression. Initially, the expectations for a compromise in this
process were extremely low. The divide between the permanent UN
Security Council members, insisting on their ‘exclusive’ powers under
the UN Charter to determine whether an act of aggression has taken
place, and the remaining States, desiring an independent ICC, appeared
to be too great. It is almost a miracle that in the end a compromise was
nevertheless reached, even though the result has legal as well as politi-
cal downsides.
The following analysis of the Conference’s outcome, its strengths and
weaknesses, is dedicated to Rüdiger Wolfrum, who kindly gave valua-
ble advice and insights before the author set off for Kampala.

A. From Nuremberg to Kampala via Rome:

Aggression Dispute

Criminal proceedings concerning the crime of aggression were

conducted for the first time in Nuremberg and Tokyo after World
War II1–thereafter little was heard about this particular international
crime. This seems all the more astonishing, given the fact that by the

* The author attended the Review Conference in Kampala as a member of the

Austrian delegation. The opinions of the author expressed herein do not state or reflect
those of the Austrian Government.
1
Cf. the provisions of “Crime against peace” contained in Art. 6 lit. a of the Charter
of the International Military Tribunal, in Agreement for the Prosecution and
Punishment of the Major War Criminals of the European Axis (London Agreement),
August 8, 1945, 58 Stat. 1544, E.A.S. No. 472, 82 UNTS 280 and Art. 5 lit. a of the
Charter of the International Military Tribunal for the Far East, January 5, 1946, T.I.A.S.
No. 1589; see on this subject in detail K. Heinze/K. Schilling, Die Rechtsprechung der
Nürnberger Militärtribunale, 159 et seq. (1952); Y. Dinstein, War, Aggression and Self-
Defence, 118 et seq. (2005).
1260 kirsten schmalenbach

foundation of the United Nations (UN) in 1945, the UN Charter out-

lawed the use of armed force in inter-State relations. Art. 2, para. 4 UN
Charter, in its predominant interpretation, prohibits any use of armed
force by a State, unless such force is justified as an act of self-defence or
authorized by the Security Council.2 The general prohibition of the use
of force is complemented by the competence of the UN Security
Council to determine that an act of aggression has occurred (Art. 39
UN Charter) and, if necessary, to impose coercive measures against the
aggressor, pursuant to Chapter VII of the UN Charter. Whether every
violation of the prohibition to use force necessarily constitutes an act of
aggression can be inferred neither from the UN Charter, nor from the
practice of the Security Council. The latter does not use its authority to
stigmatize acts of aggression but prefers the label “threat to the peace”
or “breach of the peace” (Art. 39 UN Charter). The Security Council’s
general inactivity during the Cold War had provoked the UN General
Assembly in 1974 to specify in a legally non-binding3 resolution what
must be considered an act of aggression.4 The Resolution has been
repeatedly cited by the International Court of Justice, but has generally
been ignored by the Security Council. Without doubt, after the end of
the east-west divide, the continuing unwillingness of the Security
Council to call a spade a spade had political reasons among others:5
after all, excessively sharp legal contours of the term “aggression” could
restrict the military latitude of eager-to-intervene Security Council
members. The undisputed (albeit unutilized) task of the Security
Council to determine what constitutes aggression under Art. 39 UN

2
A. Randelzhofer, Article 2(4), in: B. Simma et al.(ed.), The Charter of the United
Nations–A Commentary, 112, at 125 (2002); Y. Dinstein (note 1), 175 et seq.; N.Rostow,
International Law and the Use of Force: A Plea for Realism, 34 Yale Journal of
International Law 549 (2009); N. Ochoa-Ruiz/E. Salamanca-Aguado, Exploring the
Limits of International law relating to the Use of Force in Self-defence, 16 European
Journal of International Law 499 (2005).
3
As to the Resolution’s status as customary international law see Case Concerning
Military and Paramilitary Activities in and against Nicaragua (Nicaragua v. United
States of America), Merits, Judgment of 27 June 1986, ICJ Reports 1986, 14, para. 195;
Case Concerning Armed Activities on the Territory of the Congo (Democratic Republic
of the Congo v. Uganda), Judgment of 19 December 2005, ICJ Reports 2005, 168, para.
146.
4
Appendix to the Resolution of the General Assembly 3314 (XXIX) of 14 December
1974, UN Doc. A/Res/3314.
5
E.g. the SC Res. 660 of 2 August 1990 refers to the invasion of its neighbouring
country Kuwait by Iraq–a classical act of aggression–merely as a “breach of interna-
tional peace and security”; the distinction between “a breach of international peace”
and “an act of aggression” in Art. 39 of the UN Charter carries no legal consequences.
 the crime of aggression1261

Charter had the effect that international efforts regarding the codifica-
tion of the crime of aggression were for a long time affected by restraint.
Thus, although the International Law Commission, in its 1996 “Draft
Code of Crimes against the Peace and Security of Mankind”, expressly
designated “aggression” as an international crime, it forwent a defini-
tion of the term by referring to the respective competence of the
Security Council.6 When, two years later, in June 1998, the representa-
tives of 148 States assembled in Rome to draft the Statute of the
International Criminal Court (ICC Statute), the political and legal
issues surrounding the crime of aggression had not decreased.7 After a
fruitless debate, the sole agreement that could be reached in Rome was
that aggression as a crime shall be subject to the jurisdiction of the ICC
(Art. 5, para. 1, lit. d ICC Statute). The exercise of such jurisdiction,
however, was made dependent upon the States Parties’ agreement on a
definition of aggression and the terms and conditions subject to which
the ICC may exercise its jurisdiction over the crime, which was to be
achieved at a review conference seven years after the entry into force of
the ICC Statute. From May 31 to June 11, 2010, the envisaged Review
Conference took place in Kampala, Uganda.8
To the surprise of many, including the delegates, the Review
Conference was a success as a consensus on the crime of aggression
was reached,9 although the initial position was ill-fated. The United
Kingdom and France–both permanent members of the Security
Council and States Parties to the ICC Statute–did not appear ready to
negotiate until the very end of the Conference. According to their view,

6
G. Dahm/J. Delbrück/R. Wolfrum, Völkerrecht, Vol. I/3, at 1047 (2002).
7
See on this subject in detail A.Zimmermann, The Creation of the Permanent
International Criminal Court, 2 Max Planck Yearbook of International Law 169, at 198
et seq. (1998).
8
The conference was divided into two parts: In the first week (May 31 to June 3)
there was the so-called stalk talking exercise where negotiations were conducted with
the topics “Peace and Justice”, “(Positive) Complementarity”, “The impact of the Rome
Statute system on victims and affected communities” and “Cooperation”. In the second
week (June 4–June 11) the revision of the Rome Statute was on the agenda, in particu-
lar the deletion of Art. 124 Rome Statute (denied), the addition of poison or poisoned
weapons, of asphyxiating, poisonous or other gases, and of expanding bullets to the
prohibited weapons in a non-international conflict contained in Art. 8 para. 2 lit. e
Rome Statute (accepted) and the definition of the crime of aggression in Art. 8 bis and
the conditions for the exercise of jurisdiction over the crime of aggression in Art. 15 bis
and ter (accepted).
9
Resolution RC/Res. 6 (Advanced Version, 28 June 2010), available at http://www
.icc-cpi.int/iccdocs/asp_docs/Resolutions/RC-Res.6-ENG.pdf.
1262 kirsten schmalenbach

any action by the ICC in relation to the crime of aggression should

depend upon the preliminary determination by the Security Council of
the existence of an act of aggression (so-called Security Council filter).
The delegates of the remaining permanent Security Council members,
USA, China, and Russia, were represented at the conference with
observer status.10 In particular the US delegation–led by Harold Koh,
legal counsel to the US State Department, and Stephen Rapp, special
ambassador for war crimes–participated intensely in the diplomatic
tug of war. Their primary goal was to prevent any agreement at the
Conference.11 Later, the US delegation changed its position and sup-
ported the Security Council filter solution for strategic reasons, specifi-
cally to avoid isolation at the Conference. The representatives of the
African and Latin American States appeared to be hostile to any form
of Security Council filter. The EU Member States were not able to com-
mit to a uniform position, due to the unrelenting position of the United
Kingdom and France. The President of the Assembly of States Parties
to the Rome Statute (ASP),12 Christian Wenaweser, as well as a few
States13 and groups of States,14 presented various compromise propos-
als to the Plenary,15 which often elicited more critique than approval
among the delegates; voices were raised to adjourn the aggression mat-
ter, as under the given terms and conditions no consensus could be
reached among the States Parties. Many delegations were committed to
a consensus decision for political reasons, although pursuant to Art.
121, para. 3 ICC Statute, the States Parties can amend the Statute by
a two thirds majority.16 Other delegations rejected an incremental
adoption of the amendment in the sense of an immediate adoption of

10
Cf. Rule 12 of Draft Rules of Procedure of the Review Conference, Resolution
ICC-ASP/6/Res.2, adopted at the 7th plenary meeting, on 14 December 2007, in con-
junction with Art. 112 para. 1 Sentence 3 of the Rome Statute.
11
Cf. the introductory statement of legal counsel Koh, available at http://www.state
.gov/s/l/releases/remarks/142665.htm.
12
Assembly of States Parties (ASP), cf. Art. 112 Rome Statute.
13
Compare for instance the unofficially circulated proposal by Canada of 8 June
[available at: http://iccreviewconference.blogspot.com/2010/06/canadian-proposal
.html] and the Slovenian non-paper of 8 June [available at http://iccreviewconference
.blogspot.com/2010/06/slovenian-proposal.html].
14
Cf. the non-paper of Argentina, Brazil and Switzerland, circulated on 6 June 2010.
15
The official documents are accessible at http://www.icc-cpi.int/Menus/ASP/
ReviewConference.
16
With currently 111 States Parties to the Rome Statute the acceptance of 74 States
Parties would have been necessary. However of the 84 States Parties registered at
Kampala several delegations which were entitled to vote had already left before June
11–consequently a vote had to be avoided.
 the crime of aggression1263

undisputed parts, such as the definition of aggression, by consensus

(see II. below) and an adjournment of the disputed grounds for ICC
jurisdiction (see III. below). The last two days of the Kampala
Conference were dedicated to the negotiations between ASP President
Wenaweser and the main opponents of his most recent proposal,17
which all took place outside the conference room. On the final day of
the Conference, shortly before midnight, Wenaweser abandoned the
quest for a consensus and to put his final compromise paper to a vote
in the Plenary. In response to his question whether any delegation
would like to have the floor, the representative of Japan, known for
being overly critical, raised his hand, scaring the entire assembly. In a
harsh speech, he criticized the submitted proposal as an unlawful
amendment in light of the ICC Statute, which already for that reason
would not be a suitable basis for the conviction of persons. When most
delegates had buried their hopes for consensus, the Japanese represent-
ative, to the relief of those in the conference room, announced that
Japan, in spite of all these concerns, would not stand in the way of con-
sensus. Upon the repeated question from the ASP President Wenaweser
whether any delegation objected to the submitted proposal, silence
spread throughout the hall: the Resolution on the Crime of Aggression–
meaning the definition of the crime of aggression and the conditions of
ICC jurisdiction over the crime–was adopted by consensus shortly
after midnight.

B. Definition of the Crime of Aggression

The efforts to reach an agreement in Kampala focused on the disputed

authority of the ICC to exercise jurisdiction, while the definition of the
crime of aggression receded into the background. The definition was
already considered fully discussed and, therefore, ready for consensus.
None of the States Parties present was interested in re-igniting the
time-honoured dispute about the act of aggression, and the elements of
crime tied up with it. An incredibly difficult consolidation process pre-
ceded the Draft Article on the crime of aggression, Art. 8 bis, which
was submitted to, and finally adopted at, the Conference. Between 2002

17
The conflict between the permanent Security Council Members on the one hand
and Brazil as the spokesperson of the Latin-American countries on the other hand hot-
ted up.
1264 kirsten schmalenbach

and 2009, this consolidation process had initially taken place outside
the formal sessions of the ASP and the Special Working Group on the
Crime of Aggression established by the ASP. On the initiative of the
former chairman of the Special Working Group, Wenaweser, the group
met informally and intersessionally over a period of three years to
draft, in an academic atmosphere, an aggression definition ready for
consensus (the so-called Princeton process18). In February 2009, the
special working group was able formally to agree upon that definition
in its regular session,19 without any alternative phrasing or supplemen-
tal remarks in parentheses which would have indicated open issues in
dispute.20 Given this partial success, the willingness to reconsider Art.
8 bis was minimal. Accordingly, US efforts once again to open the issue
were categorically rejected by the delegates of the States Parties.
Art. 8 bis distinguishes between the crime of aggression (para. 1)
and the act of aggression committed by a State in breach of interna-
tional law (para. 2). While the former determines individual responsi-
bility pursuant to international criminal law, the latter concerns the
State’s responsibility pursuant to general international law as a neces-
sary legal prerequisite of individual criminal liability. In the absence of
an unlawful act of State aggression, no person can be held criminally
responsible for the planning, initiation or execution of military use of
force.21

I. Act of Aggression
When a State attacks another State by force of arms, this is routinely
accompanied by a more or less substantiated justification strategy:

18
S. Barriga/W. Danspeckgruber/Ch. Wenaweser (eds.), The Princeton Process on
the Crime of Aggression: Materials of the Special Working Group on the Crime of
Aggression, 2003–2009 (2009); see also: Informal inter-sessional meeting on the Crime
of Aggression, hosted by the Liechtenstein Institute on Self-Determination, Woodrow
Wilson School, at the Princeton Club, New York, from 8 to 10 June 2009, ICC-Doc
ICC-ASP/8/INF.2 of 10 July 2009.
19
ICC Doc ASP/7/20/Add.1, available at http://www.icc-cpi.int/iccdocs/asp_docs/
ICC-ASP-7-20-Add.1-SWGCA English.pdf.
20
See on this subject in detail S. Barriga, Chapter 29: Against the Odds: The Results
of the Special Working Group on the Crime of Aggression, in: R. Bellelli (ed.)
International Criminal Justice: Law and Practice from the Rome Statute to its Review,
621 (2010).
21
K.A. Petty, Sixty Years in the Making: The Definition of Aggression for the
International Criminal Court, 31 Hastings International and Comparative Law Review
531, at 537 (2008).
 the crime of aggression1265

whether it is the protection of the right of/to self-determination

(Georgia War 200822), self-defence against terror attacks (Afghanistan
War 200123), the prevention of mass human rights violations (Kosovo
War 199924), or the removal of a rogue regime stockpiling weapons of
mass destruction (Iraq War 200325), there is seldom consensus among
academics and practitioners as to the lawfulness of the use of force. UN
General Assembly Resolution 3314 (XXIX) on the Definition of
Aggression does not burden itself with the justification of armed
force.26 This central issue also remains open in Art. 8 bis. For the pur-
pose of the ICC Statute, Art. 8 bis contents itself with consolidating the
general definition of aggression provided in Art. 1, sentence 1 General
Assembly Resolution (GA Res.), the so-called chapeau, with the subse-
quent illustrations of acts of aggressions listed in Art. 3 GA Res. The
chapeau and the specific examples of acts of aggression are copied
almost verbatim into Art. 8 bis para. 2.

22
A. Nußberger, The War between Russia and Georgia, 1 Göttingen Journal of
International Law 341, at 345 (2009); The protection of Russian citizens as a justifica-
tion, see: A. Bianchi, The International Regulation of the Use of Force: The Politics of
Interpretive Method, 22 Leiden Journal of International Law 651, at 670 (2009).
23
C.J.Tams, The Use of Force against Terrorists, 20 European Journal of International
Law 359, at 378 et seq. (2009); M. Byers, Terrorism, The Use of Force and International
law after 11 September, 51 International Comparative Law Quarterly 401, at 405
(2002); A.S. Weiner, The Use of Force and Contemporary Security Threats: Old
Medicine for New Ills?, 59 Stanford Law Review 415, at 430 (2006).
24
 B. Simma, NATO, the UN and the Use of Force: Legal Aspects, 10 European
Journal of International Law 1 (1999); A. Cassese, Ex iniuria ius oritur: Are We Moving
towards International Legitimation of Forcible Humanitarian Countermeasures in the
World Community?, 10 European Journal of International Law 23 (1999); L. Henkin,
Kosovo and the Law of “Humanitarian Intervention”, 93 American Journal of
International Law 824 (1999); S.D. Murphy, Contemporary Practice of the United
States Relating to International Law, 93 American Journal of International Law 628, at
631 (1999); M.T. Karoubi, Unilateral Use of Armed Force and the Challenge of
Humanitarian Intervention in International Law, 10 Asian Yearbook of International
Law 96 (2001–2002); E. Benvenisti, The US and the Use of Force: Double-edged
Hegemony and the Management of Global Emergencies, 15 European Journal of
International Law 677, at 685 (2004).
25
M. Hmoud, The Use of Force Against Iraq: Occupation and Security Council
Resolution 1483, 36 Cornell International Law Journal 435, at 438 (2003–2004);
M.C. Waxman, The Use of Force Against States That Might Have Weapons of Mass
Destruction, 31 Michigan Journal of International Law 1, at 3 (2009); S.D. Murphy,
Contemporary Practice of the United States Relating to International Law, 97 American
Journal of International Law 419, at 424 (2003); C. Gray, From Unity to Polarization:
International Law and the Use of Force against Iraq, 13 European Journal of
International Law 1, 11 (2002).
26
Appendix to the Resolution of the General Assembly 3314 (XXIX) of 14 December
1974, UN Doc. A/Res/3314.
1266 kirsten schmalenbach

Pursuant to Art. 8 bis, para. 2, sentence 1 ICC Statute (chapeau27),

every use of armed force inconsistent with the UN Charter constitutes
an act of aggression. Accordingly, all recognized cases of the legal use
of force (Art. 51 and Art. 42 UN Charter) fall outside the scope of Art.
8 bis. In addition, Art. 8 bis is open to future developments under the
UN Charter in the event that UN Member States agree on further
grounds of justification. However, as international law advances gradu-
ally and never without ambiguity, particularly in the politically sensi-
tive areas such as the use of force, several States announced that they
would back the adoption of the General Assembly definition into the
ICC Statute only if not every unlawful use of force constituted a crime
of aggression.28 In order to take account of their concerns, Art. 8 bis,
para. 1 introduces a so-called threshold clause: on the basis of the ICC
Statute, an act of aggression is a matter for prosecution only if the use
of force constitutes a “manifest”, meaning objectively evident,29 viola-
tion of the UN Charter due to the attack’s character, gravity and scale.30
By this threshold clause, the ICC Statute treads uncertain terrain under
international law, a fact which achieves a particular explosiveness in
the context of criminal charges.31 The basic legal principle nullum cri-
men, nulla poena sine lege certa (Art. 7 ECHR) requires sufficiently
defined penal laws so that criminal charges are foreseeable for indi-
viduals.32 That being said, the gradual clarification of the elements of

27
Art. 8 bis para. 2 Sentence 1: “For the purpose of this Statute, ‘crime of aggression’
means the use of armed force by a State against the sovereignty, territorial integrity or
political independence of another State, or in any other manner inconsistent with the
Charter of the United Nations. ….” Compare also the equally worded Art. 1 Sentence 1
of the General Assembly definition of aggression (note 4).
28
ICC-ASP/5/35, June 2007, mn. 16, available at http://www.icc-cpi.int/Menus/
ASP/Crime+of+Aggression/.
29
Annex II to Resolution RC/Res. 6 (Amendments to the Elements of Crimes)
Introduction, para. 3.
30
Many delegates to the Special Working Group on the Crime of Aggression con-
sidered the threshold clause acceptable, since in return the cutback of the aggression
listing a to e and the dropping of the element “war of aggression” were agreed. R. Clark,
Negotiating Provisions Defining the Crime of Aggression, its Elements and the
Conditions for ICC Exercise of Jurisdiction Over It, 20 European Journal of
International Law 1103, at 1106 (2009).
31
A. Paulus, Second Thought on the Crime of Aggression, 20 European Journal of
International Law 1117, at 1121 (2010) is critical of this.
32
ECHR, S.W. v. the United Kingdom, Judgment of 27 October 1995, Case No.
47/1994/4944/576, mn. 35; see also B. Broomhall, Article 22, in: O. Triffterer (ed.)
Commentary on the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Tribunal, 713, at mn.
15 (2008).
 the crime of aggression1267

the crime through judicial interpretation, as well as the adjustments of

elements to changed circumstances, is the daily bread of criminal
judges, and permissible under human rights law.33 Even though judicial
interpretation necessarily reduces the individual predictability of crim-
inal liability, Art. 22, para. 2 ICC Statute cushions its impact on the
accused’s legal position by requiring that elements of the crime must be
construed narrowly and, in case of doubt, in favour of the accused.
It goes without saying that Art. 22 is going to influence the interpreta-
tion of Art. 8 bis, para. 1: when dealing with an act of aggression and
the manifest nature of the UN Charter violation, the ICC is bound to
consider past and present cases of aggression, related reactions of the
international community of States as well as UN organs, and the rele-
vant ICJ case law dealing with the general prohibition of the use of
force (but see Art. 15 bis, para. 9 and Art. 15 ter, para. 434). Furthermore,
the ICC is barred from resorting to the chapeau of Art. 8 bis, para. 2,
sentence 1, in order to supplement the explicitly stated cases of acts of
aggression in Art. 8 bis, para. 2, lit a-g so as to identify further inter­
nationally unlawful acts of aggression for the purpose of criminal
prosecution.35
The requirement of the “manifest” Charter violation is specified in
Art. 8 bis, para. 1, to the effect that the manifest nature must arise from
the character, gravity and scale36 of the use of force.37 These three com-
ponents appear to refer to certain international law conceptions, as the
ICJ has set the scale and effects of an armed attack as a benchmark, in
order to eliminate a right of self-defence against minor incidents such

33
ECHR (note 32), mn. 36; see also K. Ambos, Der Allgemeine Teil des
Völkerstrafrechts, at 370 (2002).
34
“A determination of an act of aggression by an organ outside the Court shall be
without prejudice to the Court’s findings under this Statute.”
35
Art. 4 of the General Assembly Definition of Aggression, whereupon the
numbering of Art. 3 can be amended by the Security Council, was deliberately not
incorporated into Art. 8 bis. On the ability to amend acts of aggression listed in Art. 8
bis with cases of the same kind (ejusdem generis) compare further Clark (note 30),
at 1105.
36
In Annex III to Resolution RC/Res. 6 (Understandings regarding the amendments
to the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court on the Crime of Aggression)
under the heading “Other Understandings” in para. 6 the wording “consequences”
instead of “scale” is used.
37
In Annex II to Resolution RC/Res. 6 (Amendments to the Elements of Crimes)
under the heading “Introduction” in para. 4 it is stated there “is no requirement to
prove that the perpetrator has made a legal evaluation as to the ‘manifest’ nature of the
violation of the Charter of the United Nations.”
1268 kirsten schmalenbach

as border skirmishes.38 Art. 8 bis, para. 1 now introduces a de minimis

threshold for an armed attack which may constitute an act of aggres-
sion under international law but does not, for the purposes of the ICC
Statute, provide a sufficient basis for a crime of aggression.39 It remains
unclear, however, what makes up the “character” of an act of aggres-
sion. Proceeding from the literal sense of the term, the element makes
it possible to consider the purposes of the use of force in order to
unburden the crime of legal uncertainties caused by the claim of illegal
but legitimate use of force.40 If a State resorts to armed force in order to
prevent or end genocide or other international crimes punishable
under the ICC Statute occurring in another State, then one could argue
that, in light of the goals and objectives of the United Nations, the
unlawful use of force would, at least in its character, not be an objective
manifest violation of the Charter. Cases of preventive self-defence
which are not justifiable pursuant to the traditional interpretation of
Art. 51 UN Charter could be taken out of the scope of Art. 8 bis. The
question remains, however, how intervention-friendly the threshold
clause really is, considering that a legitimate if not legal use of armed
force (“character”) may lead to military escalation (“scale”) with a
growing civilian death toll (“gravity”). The conjunction “and” between
the three components, character, gravity and scale, already indicates
what is confirmed by the understanding41 of States Parties regarding
Art. 8 bis: for the purpose of the ICC Statute, an act of aggression must
amount to a manifest Charter violation in light of all three compo-
nents, which are all equally important. Consequently, committing an

38
See Nicaragua Case (note 30), para. 195; the de minimis rule of the ICJ is of
relevance within the framework of Art. 8 bis para. 2 ICC Statute when evaluating
the violation of the UN Charter by acts of self-defence.
39
The introduction of the de minimis threshold was further justified by the fact
that according to Art. 1 and Art. 5 Rome Statute the jurisdiction of the ICC is limited
“to the most serious crimes of concern to the international community as a whole.”
See also ICC Doc ICC-ASP/5/35 mn. 17; cf. A. Zimmermann, Article 5, in O. Triffterer
(ed.) Commentary on the Rome Statute, at para. 9 (2008).
40
Due to the varying views of the delegates to the Special Working Group on the
Crime of Aggression during the discussions within the informal “Princeton Process”
there is no common line of interpretation; see for instance ICC Doc ICC-ASP/6/
SWGCA/1 of 13 December 2007, para. 25 and ICC-ASP/7/SWGCA/2 of 20 February
2009 mn. 13, available at http://www.icc-cpi.int/Menus/ASP/Crime+of+Aggression/.
41
Annex III para. 7 of Resolution RC/Res. 6; according to Art. 31 para. 2 lit. a of the
Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties such understandings between all the parties
have to be considered for the purpose of the interpretation of a treaty.
 the crime of aggression1269

act of aggression would not be a crime of aggression even if the armed

force were used for the conquest of foreign territory (“character”), but
where the military engagement does not exceed the minimum thresh-
old (“gravity” and “scale”). Furthermore, should the ICC assess human-
itarian interventions as not being a manifest Charter violation due to
their character, then military excesses and bloodshed in the cause of
the intervention (“gravity” and “scale”) could also not lead to a convic-
tion for committing the crime of aggression.

II. Potential Perpetrators: Military and Political Leadership

Art. 8 bis, para. 1 restricts the circle of potential perpetrators to the
political and military leadership of the aggressor State, and thereby fol-
lows the example of the Statute of the Nuremberg War Crimes
Tribunal.42 It was one of the few undisputed aspects of the definition
that the crime of aggression is a leadership crime which can be com-
mitted only by people who exercise effective control or leadership over
the political or military actions of a State, provided they have planned,
prepared, initiated or executed an act of aggression in manifest viola-
tion of the UN Charter. The criminal prosecution of subordinates who
aid, abet or otherwise assist in the commission of a crime of aggression
is precluded by Art. 25 para. 3 bis, which was adopted by the Conference
without paying particular attention to the provision: the criminal lia-
bility based on aiding, abetting or assisting requires that the perpetra-
tor fulfill the requirements of Art. 8 bis, para. 1, that is a position in
which he can effectively exercise control over or direct the political or
military action of a State. However, there is no requirement of acting as
a State agent, which ensures that the circle of potential perpetrators can
extend to people from industry, commanders of paramilitary groups or
party leaders without governmental responsibility. That said, the rele-
vant act of aggression must nonetheless be attributed to the State under
international law.
While the act of aggression must be carried out by the State to pro-
vide a sound basis for the crime of aggression,43 it is sufficient for indi-
vidual criminal liability when the military or political leader was
involved only at the planning stage of the act of aggression, or when the

42
Art. 6 of the Nuremberg Charter (note 1).
43
Annex II to Resolution RC/Res. 6 (Amendments to the Elements of Crimes),
para. 3.
1270 kirsten schmalenbach

individual contribution was halted because of circumstances unrelated

to the person’s intentions (Art. 25, para. 3, lit. f ICC Statute).

C. Jurisdiction of the ICC over the Crime of Aggression

I. Security Council v. International Criminal Court

It does not require too much imagination to gauge the highly sensitive
nature of ICC jurisdiction over crimes of aggression: ICC jurisdiction
all too easily challenges the political authority of the Security Council,
when the ICC for instance affirms an act of aggression as a legal prereq-
uisite for the crime, although the Security Council has not branded the
State as an aggressor owing to a veto (Art. 27, para. 3 UN Charter) or
for other political reasons. Depending on the circumstances a State
willing to use armed force may rely on a benevolent veto power in the
Security Council; however, the outcome before the ICC remains unpre-
dictable. On top of that, while State responsibility for an act of aggres-
sion carries hardly any weight due to a biased and politicized
international sanction regime, the looming prosecution of political and
military leaders will bring about a different effect.
When the Conference started negotiating the conditions of the
ICC jurisdiction over the crime of aggression, all possible variations
of jurisdiction had been discussed in some stage of the preceding
proceedings.44 It was discussed (1.) that only the Security Council
should establish ICC jurisdiction by referral pursuant to Art. 13, lit. b
ICC Statute, (2.) that in the absence of a referral pursuant to Art. 13, lit.
b ICC Statute, the Security Council had to determine pursuant to Art.
39 UN Charter that an act of aggression had occurred.45 In the absence
of such a finding, the Prosecutor might continue with the investiga-
tions only if (3.) the Security Council explicitly granted permission to
do so (so-called green light option46) or (4.) the Security Council did
not explicitly prohibit investigations (so-called red light option47).
Without these Security Council filters, or in combination with one of

44
See for instance the proposal by Liechtenstein, which was the first but not the only
basis of discussion: ICC Doc ICC-ASP/8/Res. 1 Annex 2.
45
Conference Room Paper RC-WGCA/1 Rev. 1, 6 June 2001, Alternative 1.
46
Special Working Group Report of June 2007, ICC Doc ICC-ASP/5/35, para. 31
and of December 2007, ICC-ASP/6/SWGCA/1, para. 35 ff.
47
Special Working Group Report of February 2009, ICC Doc ICC-ASP/7/
SWGCA/2, para. 23 ff.
 the crime of aggression1271

the Security Council filters, (5.) the aggressor State and/or (6.) the vic-
tim State had to agree to the jurisdiction of the ICC.48 It was also envis-
aged to make the ICC jurisdiction dependent on either (7.) the UN
General Assembly or (8.) the determination of the unlawful use of
force by the ICJ in a judgment or advisory opinion.49 Finally, it was
proposed (9.) to grant ICC jurisdiction without any external filter but
to tie this independent jurisdiction to the condition that the relevant
amendment of the ICC Statute was ratified by 7/8 of the States Parties
pursuant to Art. 121, para. 4 ICC Statute,50 or that (10.) a temporary
delay of the ICC jurisdiction was otherwise brought about.51
During the negotiations in Kampala, it was incumbent especially
upon the ASP President and Chairman of the Conference, Christian
Wenaweser, to test the flexibility of the delegations, to identify common
positions, and to mediate the remaining issues in dispute. This consoli-
dation process developed a dynamic which prevented many delega-
tions from openly questioning individual points of the drafts presented.
All that counted was to return home with the crime of aggression in the
pocket. Accordingly, at the end of the Conference, the exhilaration
over the consensus that was reached was dampened by a lack of enthu-
siasm about the details of the compromise achieved.

II. Exercise of ICC Jurisdiction in Case of

State Referral or Proprio Motu
Art. 15 bis deals with the jurisdiction of the ICC over the crime of
aggression in cases in which a State Party refers a situation to the ICC
(Art. 13, lit. a ICC Statute) or the Prosecutor initiates investigations
(Art. 13, lit. c ICC Statute, so-called “proprio motu” proceedings). The
consensual adoption of Art. 15 bis came as a surprise to many, as the
permanent members of the Security Council kept coming up with
arguments against an ICC jurisdiction triggered by State referral or
proprio motu, unless the Security Council had previously determined
that an act of aggression had occurred. The Security Council filter did
not make its way into Art. 15 bis; the provision permits the exercise of

48
Cf. the proposal by Canada and Slovenia (note 13).
49
Special Working Group Report of December 2007, ICC-ASP/6/SWGCA/1, para.
39 ff.
50
Non-paper of Argentina, Brazil and Switzerland, circulated on 6 June 2010.
51
Conference Room Paper RC-WGCA/1 Rev. 1, 7 June 2001 (note 45).
1272 kirsten schmalenbach

jurisdiction by the ICC even when the Security Council remains pas-
sive. The political independence of the ICC being thereby ensured,
it goes without saying that the success had its price, displayed in two
significant limitations of ICC jurisdiction: (a) the legal position of non-
States Parties to the Rome Statute and (b) the possibility for States
Parties to opt out.

1. Legal Status of Non-States Parties

States which remain outside the ICC Statute (for example the USA,
Russia, China and Israel), do not have to fear the ICC’s exercise of
jurisdiction over a crime of aggression:52 even if their leadership plans,
initiates, or executes acts of aggression, the ICC does not have jurisdic-
tion. To ensure this jurisdictional gap desired by most non-States
Parties, especially the USA, Art. 15 bis, para. 5 deviates from Art. 12,
para. 2, lit. a ICC Statute. The latter provision is dangerous for citizens
of non-States Parties when the alleged crime occurred on the territory
of a State Party. On the other hand, one might say that Art. 12, para. 2,
lit. b ICC Statute favours non-States Parties by granting jurisdiction to
the ICC over crimes which were committed on the territory of non-
States Party by citizens of a State Party. In any case, ICC jurisdiction
over the crime of aggression committed on the territory of a non-State
Party is precluded pursuant to Art. 15 bis, para. 2. Using the Iraq War
of 2003 as an example, Art. 15 bis, para. 5–presuming the ICC has
jurisdiction ratione temporis–would mean that political and military
leaders of the USA (non-State Party) and the United Kingdom (State
Party) do not have to worry about criminal charges at the ICC, because
Iraq is not a State Party to the ICC Statute. If the non-State Party being
attacked later declares its accession to the ICC Statute, and accepts the
ICC jurisdiction retroactively from the point in time when the ICC was
first entitled to exercise its jurisdiction pursuant to Art. 15 bis and ter
(see III.4),53 then the jurisdiction of the ICC pursuant to Art. 12, para
1, lit. a ICC Statute, extends to those leaders who have the citizenship
of the attacking State Party (in this instance that of the United
Kingdom). Art. 15 bis, para. 4, however, allows States Parties to escape
from this jurisdiction trap.

52
Except of course that the Security Council refers the situation according to Art. 15
ter in conjunction with Chapter VII of the UN Charter–compare further Chapter C.3.
53
Cf. Art. 12 para. 3 Rome Statute.
 the crime of aggression1273

2. Legal Status of States Parties

For certain States Parties, the independent jurisdiction of the ICC over
the crime of aggression was acceptable only under the condition that
they would be able effectively to evade its jurisdiction. Serving the con-
sensus in Kampala, Art. 15 bis, para. 4 grants States Parties the oppor-
tunity to opt out of the jurisdiction of the ICC insofar as the proceedings
relate to the crime of aggression (so-called opt-out clause). The State
Party must avail itself of the opt-out option chronologically prior to the
ratification of the amendment–meaning the ratification of Annex I of
the Resolution RC/Res. 6 adopted in Kampala.54 It remains unclear,
however, whether the actual ratification of Annex I must take place for
the opt-out declaration to become effective pursuant to Art. 15 bis,
para. 4. According to the international law of treaties, the consent to be
bound by Annex I is not a necessary prerequisite to the exercise of the
opt-out option: pursuant to Art. 36 of the Vienna Convention on the
Law of Treaties (VCLT), an international treaty can provide rights to
third States which are not parties to the treaty, provided those benefits
are accepted by the beneficiary State (pacta tertiis nec nocent nec pro-
sunt). In the absence of ratification, a State Party to the ICC Statute is
not legally bound by Annex I–the crime of aggression (Art. 121, para.
5 ICC Statute). If such a State Party nonetheless deposits an opt-out
declaration pursuant to Art. 15 bis, it accepts the benefit offered by Art.
15 bis para. 4 within the meaning of Art. 36 VCLT. Nevertheless, every
opt-out willing State Party is well advised to ratify Annex I immedi-
ately after declaring the opt-out. If the ICC, with a view to Resolution
RC/Res.6, held the legal opinion that the ratification of Annex I is a
necessary condition for the opt-out declaration to become legally effec-
tive, the citizens of a State Party could be subject to the ICC jurisdiction
over the crime of aggression despite the fact that the State Party had not
ratified Annex I. By referring to Art. 12 ICC Statute, Art. 15 bis, para. 4
permits the exercise of ICC jurisdiction over the crime of aggression if
citizens of States Parties who have not ratified Annex I (and whose
opt-out declaration is therefore legally without effect) have commit-
ted a crime of aggression on the territory of a State Party which has
ratified Annex I. This legal situation, however, causes several problems
considering that Art. 121, para. 5, sentence 2 ICC Statute attempts to

54
Preamble to Resolution RC/Res. 6, para. 1: “… any State Party may lodge a decla-
ration referred to in Art. 15 bis prior to ratification or acceptance.”
1274 kirsten schmalenbach

eliminate precisely this consequence for States Parties unwilling to rat-

ify Annex I.
Art. 121 ICC Statute is a provision which governs the amendment
procedure and the legal consequences of amendment. It was much
debated in academic writing and amongst the delegates of the Review
Conference in Kampala whether the envisaged amendment on aggres-
sion should become effective pursuant to Art. 121, para. 4 ICC Statute
(ratification of the amendment by 7/8 of all States Parties with the con-
sequence of all States Parties being legally bound) or pursuant to Art.
121, para. 5 ICC Statute.55 Ultimately, it became Art. 121, para. 5 ICC
Statute, as is made clear by the first recital of the Preamble to Resolution
RC/Res. 6, adopted in Kampala. Art. 121, para. 5 ICC Statute consists
of two parts. Pursuant to Art. 121, para. 5 ICC Statute, an amendment
is binding only upon the States which have ratified it–Annex I. For all
other States Parties which abstain from ratifying and are therefore not
bound to Annex I, Art. 121, para. 5, sentence 2 ICC Statute limits the
jurisdiction of the ICC: by way of derogation from Art. 12 ICC Statute:
the Court must not exercise its jurisdiction if the crime covered by the
amendment was committed on the territory of a State Party which has
not ratified the amendment, or the crime was committed by a citizen of
that State party.56 For the crime of aggression, however, Art. 15 bis,
para. 4 amends Art. 121, para. 5, sentence 2 ICC Statute: if a State Party
to the ICC Statute commits an act of aggression, ICC jurisdiction over
the crime of aggression results from Art. 12 ICC Statute independently
of the ratification of Annex I (if no legally effective opt-out declaration
prevents the exercise of ICC jurisdiction): this follows from Art. 15 bis,
para. 4.

55
See also A. Seibert-Fohr, Das Verbrechen der Aggression im Rom-Statut:
Fragen der Vertragsänderung und Jurisdiktion, 8 Zeitschrift für Internationale
Strafrechtsdogmatik 361, at 363 et seq. (2008).
56
So-called “negative understanding” of Art. 121 para. 5, which in legal science is the
common position taken by a majority: G. Hafner/K. Boom/A. Rübesam/J. Huston,
A Response to the American View, 10 European Journal of International Law 108,
at 116 (1999); M. Morris, Terrorism and Unilateralism: Criminal Jurisdiction and
international Relations,36 Cornell International Law Journal 473, at 487 (2004);accord-
ing to the so-called “positive understanding” Art. 121 para. 5 is understood in such a
way that a non-ratifying aggressor state falls under the ICC jurisdiction in the same
way as a Non-State Party does: cf. A. Reisinger-Coracini, Amended Most Serious
Crimes: A New Category of Core Crimes Within the Jurisdiction but out of the Reach
of the International Criminal Court?, 21 Leiden Journal of International Law 699,
at 707 (2008).
 the crime of aggression1275

The amendment of Art. 121, para. 5, sentence 2 ICC Statute pro-

duced by Art. 15 bis, para. 4, appears problematic, particularly in light
of Art. 41, para. 1, lit. b (i) VCLT. Pursuant to Art. 41 VCLT, an amend-
ment which was agreed upon amongst a group of States Parties must
not affect the rights of those States Parties who do not participate in the
amendment. However, Art. 15 bis, para. 4 with its reference to Art. 12
ICC Statute apparently infringes the rights of those States Parties,
namely their right to be exempted under Art. 121, para. 5 ICC Statute
from the ICC’s jurisdiction. A closer look at Art. 41 VCLT, however,
destroys the hope of any criminal defence counsel that Art. 15 bis, para.
4 might violate the law of treaties: Art. 41 VCLT is applicable only to
those cases in which a limited number of States Parties to a multilateral
treaty intend to amend that multilateral agreement inter se.57 At the
Review Conference in Kampala, however, all States Parties intended to
amend the ICC Statute, even if later the amendment would possibly
not be ratified by them all. The distinction drawn by the Vienna
Convention on the Law of Treaties between the intention of a group of
States Parties to amend a multilateral treaty inter se (Art. 41VCLT) and
the intention of all States Parties to amend the treaty (Art. 40 VCLT)
results in the inapplicability of Art. 41 VCLT to the amendment con-
tained in Annex I. In light of Art. 40 VCLT, the change to Art. 121,
para. 5 sentence 2 ICC Statute by the amendment adopted in Kampala
(Art. 15 bis, para. 4) appears to be in accordance with international
law. A closer look, however, casts doubt on the amending power of
Art. 15 bis.
Art. 40, para. 4 VCLT expresses a generally accepted international
rule regarding consent to be bound to an amended agreement, which is
repeated in Art. 121, para. 5, sentence 2 ICC Statute: States Parties
which do not ratify Annex I are not bound by Annex I according to
international law. The fact that, pursuant to Art. 12 ICC Statute, their
citizens can nevertheless be charged with the crime of aggression, to
the extent that this crime was committed on the territory of a State
Party which has ratified Annex I, does not constitute a legal obligation
and is contrary to Art. 40 VCLT. Art. 12 ICC Statute in conjunction

57
International Law Commission, Draft Articles on the Law of Treaties with
Commentaries, Yearbook of the International Law Commission 1966-II (UN Doc.
A/CN.4/SER. A/1966/Add. 1) 187, at 233, para. 6; I. Sinclair, Vienna Convention on
the Law of Treaties, at 107 (1984); R.D. Kearney/R.E. Dalton, The Treaty on Treaties, 64
American Journal of International Law 495, at 524 (1970).
1276 kirsten schmalenbach

with Art. 15 bis, para. 4, is an expression of the territorial sovereignty of

the State Party which has ratified Annex I and on the territory of which
the crime of aggression was committed. This State Party has voluntarily
transferred its own jurisdiction over the crime of aggression to the
ICC.58 It is, however, problematic that all States Parties to the ICC
Statute have agreed to refrain, in the case of future amendments, from
undertaking any transfer of jurisdiction to the detriment of States
Parties which are unwilling to ratify the amendments, which is stipu-
lated in Art. 121, para. 5, sentence 2 ICC Statute. This consensus cannot
be rescinded unilaterally or by a majority of States Parties which are
willing to ratify the amendment. Accordingly, in its first proceedings
against citizens of a State Party which has not ratified Annex I, the ICC
will have to answer the question whether, in light of international
human rights (Art. 14 ICCPR), it must refrain from exercising its juris-
dictions in that specific case.

3. Prosecuting the Crime of Aggression

If a situation in which a crime of aggression appears to have been com-
mitted is referred to the Prosecutor by a State Party (State referral: Art.
13 lit. a ICC Statute) or the Prosecutor commences investigations in
respect of that crime on his or her own initiative (proprio motu: Art. 13
lit a ICC Statute), Art. 15 bis para. 6 to 8 lays down the procedural steps
to be taken: where the Prosecutor concludes that there is a reasonable
basis for proceeding with the investigations in respect of a crime of
aggression, he or she must consider the United Nations. Art. 15 bis,
para. 6, sentence 2 provides for a compulsory duty to cooperate with
the Organization, meaning that the Prosecutor is bound to notify the
UN Secretary General about the preliminary investigations and to
deliver the relevant information and documents to him. Pursuant to
Art. 15 bis, para. 6, sentence 1, the Prosecutor must ascertain whether
the Security Council has made a determination of an act aggression
committed by the States the leadership of which is in the focus of the
Office of the Prosecutor. It is irrelevant whether this determination
provides a basis for coercive measures pursuant to Chapter VII of the

58
S.A. Williams/W.A. Schabas, Article 12, in: O. Triffterer (ed.) Commentary on the
Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, 547, at mn. 15 (2008); A. Reisinger-
Coracini assumes that the ICC has an imminent jurisdiction in relation to the crimes
listed in Art. 5 Rome Statute (note 56), at 700 et seq.
 the crime of aggression1277

UN Charter. On the other hand, it is not sufficient just to have the

Security Council’s opinion that the use of armed force amounts to a
“breach of peace” in the way it has been in the past 50 years. In any
case, from the year 2017 at the latest (see III.4), the Security Council
will need to take greater care in finding that the use of armed force
constitutes an “act of aggression” or a “breach of the peace”. Even
though the distinction does not bring about any legal consequences in
the context of the UN Charter, this is exactly the case under the ICC
Statute.
If the Security Council has made an affirmative determination prior
to the Prosecutor’s notification or within a six-month period after the
notification, then the proceedings take their normal course, meaning
that they do not differ from those proceedings which are to be con-
ducted if the indictment refers to other crimes under ICC jurisdiction
(Art. 5, para. 1, lit. a-c ICC Statute: genocide, war crimes, crimes against
humanity). The situation becomes more complex if the Security
Council allows the six-month period to lapse. In that case, the
Prosecutor requires the authorization of the Pre-Trial Division to pro-
ceed with the investigations (Art. 15 bis para. 8). The Pre-Trial Division
authorization serves as an “enhanced internal filter”,59 given that the
bench consists of a minimum of six judges (Art. 39, para. 1, sentence 2
ICC Statute) in contrast to the bench of the Pre-Trial Chamber (three
judges60). The latter is competent to authorize investigations relating to
all other crimes under ICC jurisdiction. If the Pre-Trial Division
authorizes investigations in respect to the crime of aggression, then the
proceedings run their normal course unless the Security Council
makes use of its right under Art. 16 ICC Statute (Art. 15 bis, para. 8:
temporary red light option).
It is one of the ambivalent concessions of the ICC Statute that the
Security Council may, for a period of 12 months, enforce the stay of
investigations and proceedings provided that the Security Council
acts under Chapter VII of the UN Charter (Art. 16 ICC Statute).
Theoretically, the Security Council may constantly renew its decision
pursuant to Art. 16 ICC Statute in order indefinitely to bar proceedings
which are not palatable to some members of the Security Council.

59
A. Reisinger Coracini, The International Criminal Court’s Exercise of Jurisdiction
Over the Crime of Aggression–at Last … in Reach …Over Some, 2 GoJIL 745, at 785
et seq. (2010).
60
Art. 39 para. 2 lit. b (iii) Rome Statute.
1278 kirsten schmalenbach

Previous experiences61 with the “Art. 16 emergency break”, however,

have shown that it is far from easy to convince two thirds of the 15
members of the Security Council that proceedings in respect of a spe-
cific crime of aggression constitute a “threat to the peace” pursuant to
Art. 39 UN Charter. Above all, permanent members are deprived of
their most powerful tool, the veto. A veto can prevent the Security
Council from requesting the ICC, in a resolution adopted under
Chapter VII, not to commence the proceedings. Obviously, this does
not work in reverse.
In Kampala it was undisputed that the Security Council should have
the right to refer to the ICC a situation in which the crime of aggression
appears to have been committed (Art. 13 lit b ICC Statute). The con-
cerns of many delegations were first and foremost related to the idea
that the jurisdiction of the ICC would exclusively depend on the
Security Council’s good will. Given that Art. 51 bis allayed these con-
cerns, the adoption of Art. 15 ter was not in the focus of the Conference.
Art. 15 ter, which first and foremost refers to Art. 13, lit b ICC
Statute, is noteworthy in three different respects: if the Security Council,
pursuant Art. 13, lit. b ICC Statute, refers a situation to the ICC which
gives rise to the assumption that a crime of aggression has been com-
mitted, the Security Council has no influence on subsequent proceed-
ings, whether e.g. the Prosecutor intends to seek trial in respect of a
crime of aggression or whether the Pre-Trial Chamber confirms the
charge of aggression. In addition, Art. 15 ter does not require the
Security Council to determine, under Chapter VII, that an act of
aggression has in fact occurred. In any case, the right of the Security
Council to refer a situation to the ICC, activated twice so far,62 will not
become more politically attractive to the Security Council considering
its lack of influence on the proceedings.
Another interesting detail concerns the legal status of non-States
Parties and States Parties. As the referral requires a decision under

61
See SC Res. 1422 of July 12 2002, 1487 of 12 June 2003 and 1479 of 13 May 2003
which were passed under pressure from the United States, so that US soldiers could not
be affected by the ICC jurisdiction if those soldiers either were under the command of
the UN or were used within UN authorized military actions; the efforts of the US to
initiate further “immunity resolutions” failed due to the resistance of the other Security
Council members. For a discussion of these resolutions see N. Jain, A Separate Law for
Peacekeepers: The Clash between the Security Council and the International Criminal
Court, 16 European Journal of International Law 239 (2005).
62
SC Res. 1593 of 31 March 2005 and SC Res. 1973 of 17 March 2011.
 the crime of aggression1279

Chapter VII of the UN Charter, it constitutes a coercive measure

addressed to all 192 UN Member States. Consequently, the right of
States Parties to opt out of the jurisdiction of the ICC (Art. 15 bis, para.
4), as well as the limitation of the Court’s jurisdiction to the benefit of
non-States Parties (Art. 15 ter, para. 5), does not apply in the case of the
Security Council referral.63 And finally, the Security Council, like eve-
ryone else, has to practise patience: the temporal delay of the ICC’s
jurisdiction and the requirement of a sufficient number of ratifications
of the amendment apply not only to State referrals or proprio motu
investigations (Art. 15 bis para. 2 and 3), but also to Security Council
referrals (Art. 15 ter para. 2 and 3).

III. Delayed Activation and Exercise of the ICC

Jurisdiction over the Crime of Aggression
Pursuant to Art. 121, para. 5 ICC Statute, amendments to Art. 5, 6, 7
and 8 ICC Statute enter into force for those States Parties which have
accepted the amendment one year after the deposit of their instru-
ments of ratification. Consequently, all States Parties which ratify
Annex I are legally bound to the Annex and are barred from withdraw-
ing their consent to be bound to the amendment outside the procedure
laid down in Art. 127 ICC Statute. However, the acceptance of the
amendment contained in Annex I does not have the effect that, for
these parties, the Court’s jurisdiction is activated pursuant to Art. 12,
para. 2 ICC Statute. On the contrary: paras. 2 and 3 of Arts. 15 bis and
ter form the relevant legal basis for the activation and exercise of ICC
jurisdiction over the crime of aggression. Pursuant to para. 3, the ICC
may exercise jurisdiction under the condition that a corresponding
decision is taken after 1 January 2017 by two thirds of all States Parties
at a follow-up conference (Art. 121 para. 3 ICC Statute). Accordingly,
aggressor States and perpetrators have a “grace period” of six and a half
years, whereas the friends of the Court have to be patient.
Both hurdles–the decision and the time delay–are supplemented by
another obstacle: pursuant to para. 2 of Art. 15 bis and ter, the ICC may
exercise its jurisdiction over crimes of aggression only when they are
committed one year after the ratification or acceptance of Annex I by

63
See also Annex III to Resolution RC/Res. 6, Understandings regarding the amend-
ments to the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court on the Crime of Aggression,
para. 2 of the heading Referrals by the Security Council.
1280 kirsten schmalenbach

thirty States Parties. The interaction between paras. 2 and 3 of Arts. 15

bis and ter gives rise to serious confusion: obviously, the ICC may exer-
cise its jurisdiction only if activated in accordance with para. 3 (e.g. on
the basis of a decision dating from 2 January 2017). If this condition is
fulfilled, para. 2 comes into play; it authorizes the ICC to deal with all
crimes of aggression which were committed one year after the deposit
of the thirtieth ratification instrument (which e.g. would have taken
place on 31 December 2012). According to the author’s view, para. 2
and 3 support the understanding that the ICC’s jurisdiction ratione
temporis concerns all crimes of aggression committed after the deposit
of the required number of ratification instruments (in our example: 31
December 2012). It is regrettable that this interpretation of Art. 15 bis
and ter is not supported by the Understanding of States Parties regard-
ing the Amendment (Annex III to Resolution RC/Res. 6). The
Understanding is part of the consensus reached in Kampala; however,
the document is not intended for ratification by States Parties. If the
Understanding is considered a legally binding agreement on the inter-
pretation of Annex I, however, Annex III must be taken into account
when interpreting the wording of Arts. 15 bis and ter (Art. 31, para. 2,
lit. a VCLT). According to Understandings 1 and 3 of Annex III, the
ICC may exercise jurisdiction only with respect to crimes of aggression
committed after a decision in accordance with Art. 15 ter, para. 3 is
taken and one year after the ratification of the amendment by thirty
States Parties, whichever is later. In view of the considerable discrep-
ancy between Arts. 15 bis and ter (para. 2 and 3) and Annex III
(Understandings 1 and 3), the question arises whether Annex III, as a
mere interpretation agreement, is appropriate to give the clear wording
of Arts. 15 bis and ter a completely different meaning. The interpreta-
tion rules of Art. 31, paras. 1 and 2 VCLT give some scope for the ICC
to marginalize Understandings 1 and 3 of Annex III. Furthermore, the
nullum crimen sine lege principle, which the ICC must respect (Art. 22,
para. 1 ICC Statute), does not oppose the retroactive exercise of juris-
diction ratione temporis over a crime of aggression which was allegedly
committed one year after the deposit of the thirtieth ratification instru-
ment (para. 2 of Arts. 15 bis and ter).

D. Final Remarks

The complex amendment of the ICC Statute, adopted in Kampala

against all the odds, lays itself open to criticism and attacks which
 the crime of aggression1281

criminal defence lawyers will surely use to contest the legality of charges
with respect to the crime of aggression. In addition, there is no doubt
that the ICC will hardly glean useful insights from the decision-
making process in Kampala. Under the pressure to find a sustainable
compromise in Kampala, many bilaterally negotiated phrases as well as
their legal consequences remain insufficiently clear, particularly as
there was no plenary debate when the amendment was put to a vote in
Kampala. However, all that should not obscure the view of success that
consensus has been reached in Kampala on the crime of aggression,
that this is an important milestone in the history of international crim-
inal law and fills a significant jurisdictional gap–at least if the States
Parties use the historic hour in 2017 to put the results of Kampala into
practice.
 Risk and Security in International Law

Christian Tomuschat

A. Introduction

Risk and security are generally viewed as opposite concepts. He who is

at risk cannot feel safe. However, in real life more often than not there
is no clear separation between risk and security. Life is a process which
evolves under ever-changing circumstances. It cannot be controlled in
an absolute fashion. This truism applies also to the existence of nations.
History continually brings about new challenges. If it had come to its
end after the victory of the Western concept of liberal democracy, as
suggested by Francis Fukuyama,1 stability in international relations
would certainly have increased. On the other hand, human societies
could never be conceived of as geological blocs which lie in petrified
silence. Necessarily, they reflect the actions of their members who, in
any event, remain human beings subject to the cycle of life and death
with all its attendant upheavals.
Law is the major instrument by which mature societies consolidate
their internal and external relationships. Of course, societal structures
can also be shaped by other tools, in particular physical force. But it is
trivial to note that authority engendered by physical force may erode
fairly quickly. Systems of governance which do not enjoy a certain
degree of legitimacy are inevitably threatened by political dissent
which, in a true democracy, belongs to the forces which must be inte-
grated in the regular process of decision-making in accordance with
the relevant constitutional framework, thereby becoming a consolidat-
ing element. Without legal rules, the life of a society becomes unpre-
dictable and aleatory. It is one of the generally accepted propositions
coined by Max Weber that legitimacy can derive from government
according to pre-established rules (rational-legal authority).2
Risk evades any objective definition. It depends largely on the per-
ception of the observer. In discourse about the well-being of a nation it

1
F. Fukuyama, The End of History and the Last Man (1993).
2
M. Weber, Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft, at 124 (5th ed. 1972).
1284 christian tomuschat

must of course have some significant weight to deserve closer consid-

eration. Everyday occurrences, the management of routine matters,
will not be studied. However, in its relations under international
law a State may view as risks some remote eventualities which other
States would regard as negligible incidents in the normal course of
events. The conclusion by the responsible governmental authority that
some hidden or even openly discernible future developments may
prove (gravely) detrimental to the nation’s vital interests is always
the decisive criterion. This is very often a highly subjective parameter.
With regard to other perceived threats, in particular threats to the
sovereignty and territorial integrity of a nation, one obviously encoun-
ters a much broader international consensus. The real problem then
consists of devising appropriate strategies to eliminate or avert such
threats.
Notwithstanding the prospect of stability and order which it usu-
ally generates, law remains subject to the vagaries of history. If it is to
govern the life of a society in a lasting fashion, it needs more than
rigidity–namely the very opposite quality, a certain degree of flexibil-
ity in order to be able to adjust to changing external circumstances.
Accordingly, legal systems and legal practice have always tried to rec-
oncile the seemingly contradictory requirements of change and stabil-
ity. Sometimes, certain risks must be assumed in order to obtain
security. Or else, precautions are taken in the expectation that a specific
legal regime will not prove as reliable as hoped for and expected. Thus,
all of a sudden risk and security may turn into concepts which cannot
be clearly distinguished. Under specific circumstances, security can be
obtained only if risks are taken. International law provides many exam-
ples which mirror this interplay between the two situations.
Within a domestic context, many risks can be taken care of by pro-
curing adequate insurance. In international relations, by contrast, such
an easy fix is generally unavailable; only environmental risks may to a
certain extent be covered by appropriate insurance. It stands to reason
that, in particular, injury susceptible of being caused by armed conflict
cannot be covered by any private insurance company. As a rule, if a risk
inherent in international relations materializes, the affected nation is
compelled to tackle it by means of its own forces. Therefore, statecraft
must be activated to its optimum to provide for preventive strategies
and mechanisms. The most appropriate device which States can resort
to is co-operation with likeminded nations to fend off the threats
which permanently surround them. To some extent, they can also rely
 risk and security in international law1285

on international solidarity, which has become a distinctive feature of

the international community of our time.3
In accordance with the limited objective outlined above, the main
focus of the following tentative considerations will be directed to legal
mechanisms which reflect the interplay of risk and security. It is not the
aim of our reflection to study risk and security as a societal problem in
general. This is the task of historians, political scientists and sociolo-
gists. Ulrich Beck has devoted many studies to assessing the risk soci-
ety of the contemporary world.4 Thus, for instance, no attempt will be
made to assess the risk of human rights violations by a specific govern-
ment.5 To be sure, law invariably maintains a close connection with the
underlying societal phenomena. It is interesting to see, though, to what
extent it has equipped itself for risks which constitute a foreseeable sta-
tistical certainty, on the one hand, or strike unexpectedly, almost
unforeseeably by humans, on the other hand. Good legal regimes
should not be taken by surprise if events take a course departing from
everyday experiences.

B. International Treaties

In international law, treaties are the main instruments for shaping

human environments. Legally, treaties are solid building blocks. The
pacta sunt servanda principle has, for a couple of decades, been not
only embodied in customary law, but also enunciated in an interna-
tional treaty, the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties (VCLT):
Article 26 provides that treaties are binding and cannot be repealed
unilaterally by one of their parties. Accordingly, expectations are well
protected–at least to a certain extent.6 It is self-evident that treaties can

3
 See R. Wolfrum, Solidarity amongst States: An Emerging Structural Principle of
International Law, in: B. Fassbender/M. N. Shaw/K.-P. Sommermann/P.-M. Dupuy
(eds.) Völkerrecht als Wertordnung. Essays in Honour of Christian Tomuschat, 1087
(2006); R. Wolfrum/C. Kojima (eds.), Solidarity: A Structural Principle of International
Law (2008).
4
 See in English his monograph: World Risk Society (1999); in German:
Weltrisikogesellschaft (2007).
5
 See, for instance, S.C. Poe et al., Assessing Risk and Opportunity in Conflict
Studies: A Human Rights Analysis, 50 Journal of Conflict Resolution 484 (2006).
6
 Different considerations apply to treaties in the field of human rights where
States essentially bind themselves with regard to their own constitutional order: see
C. Tomuschat, Pacta sunt servanda, in: A. Fischer-Lescano et al. (eds.), Peace in Liberty.
Festschrift für Michael Bothe, 1047 (2008).
1286 christian tomuschat

be amended or terminated by mutual consent. But the authors of

the VCLT also foresaw that changing circumstances might alter the
original balance of rights and duties to such an extent that one of
the parties, to whose detriment the equilibrium has been shifted, could
no longer be expected faithfully to fulfil the duties incumbent upon
it (Article 62). Although rarely invoked in practice, the clausula rebus
sic stantibus is a firm component of the law of treaties.7 Yet, in accord-
ance with the cautious drafting of Article 62,8 international tribunals
generally display a high degree of reluctance to accept a plea of change
of circumstances. In the Gabčikovo-Nagymaros case the ICJ held that
the political circumstances present at the conclusion of the relevant
treaty on the large construction works to be performed on the river
Danube were
not so closely linked to the object and purpose of the Treaty that they
constituted an essential basis of the consent of the parties and, in chang-
ing, radically altered the extent of the obligations still to be performed.9
By contrast, the Court of Justice of the European Communities
acknowledged that the wars which had broken out in the territory of
the former Yugoslavia had destroyed the foundations of the Cooperation
Agreement between the European Economic Community and
Yugoslavia so that the Council, when unilaterally suspending the trade
concessions provided for in that Agreement, had not acted unlaw-
fully.10 On the whole, however, the risk that a treaty may lose its validity
under the impact of the clausula rebus sic stantibus is minimal.
International law does not lightly dispose of validly concluded treaties.
The balance is heavily shifted in favour of stability.11

    7
The right of a member State to withdraw from the United Nations was recognized
as a kind of codified clausula rebus sic stantibus at the founding conference in San
Francisco if the world organization should prove unable to reach the objectives for the
pursuit of which it was founded (“unable to maintain peace or … only at the expense
of law and justice”): see text reprinted by L.M. Goodrich/E. Hambro, Charter of the
United Nations, at 143 (2nd ed. 1949).
    8
“A fundamental change of circumstances … may not be invoked as a ground
for terminating or withdrawing from the treaty unless …”.
    9
 ICJ, Gabčikovo-Nagymaros Project (Hungary/Slovakia), ICJ Reports 1997, 1, 64,
para. 104.
10
ECJ, Case C-162/96, Racke v. Hauptzollamt Mainz, 1998 ECR-I-3655,
paras. 55, 56.
11
 See other references given by A. McNair, The Law of Treaties, at 681 et seq. (1961);
M.E. Villiger, Commentary on the 1969 Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, at
772 (2009).
 risk and security in international law1287

Yet, historical experience tells statespeople like any ordinary citizens

that treaties may be breached by their parties, notwithstanding the for-
mal promises undertaken in their ratification. Human chronicles are
unfortunately full of relevant examples. Some of these occurrences
have been noted in the book of history.12 Famous is the word of von
Bethmann Hollweg, Chancellor of the German Reich during World
War I until 1917, who commented on the breach of the treaty of 1839
protecting Belgium’s neutrality by the invasion of Belgian territory
during the attack against France that that treaty was no more than a
“scrap of paper” (“ein Fetzen Papier”).13 After having come to power in
Germany in 1933, the Nazi Government many times treated the inter-
national commitments Germany had solemnly undertaken just as a
“Fetzen Papier”. It is indeed a matter of common knowledge that par-
ticularly in the field of international peace and security treaties are
ephemeral phenomena. The guarantees which they provide must be
backed up by other forces, real military machinery which can be mobi-
lized in the event of aggression or other threat to the sovereignty of the
nation concerned.
There are also other tendencies in the contemporary world which
call into question the binding nature of international treaties. One of
the main justifications for their downgrading is the contention, encoun-
tered many times in relevant writings, that treaties lack democratic
legitimacy.14 Although in almost all countries treaties of some political
relevance require parliamentary approval, it is rightly observed that
during their lifetime treaties may develop an unforeseen dynamism, in
particular if they are endowed with institutions of a norm-setting and
also of a judicial character. The stricter the discipline introduced by a

12
For some examples see McNair, id., at 541–553.
13
He later regretted having made this unfortunate observation: see Betrachtungen
zum Weltkriege, Part 1, at 180 footnote (1919), where he speaks of a “derailment”
(“eine Entgleisung”).
14
Particularly critical is J.H.H. Weiler, The Geology of International Law–
Governance, Democracy and Legitimacy, 64 Zeitschrift für ausländisches öffentliches
Recht und Völkerrecht 547, at 548 (2004). For a discussion of this problematique see
A. von Bogdandy, Globalization and Europe: How to Square Democracy, Globalization,
and International Law, 15 European Journal of International Law 885 (2004);
M. Kumm, The Legitimacy of International Law: A Constitutionalist Framework of
Analysis, id., 907; A. Boyle/C. Chinkin, The Making of International Law, at 57–62, 101
et seq. (2007); J. Klabbers, Law-making and Constitutionalism, in: J. Klabbers et al.,
The Constitutionalization of International Law, 81 (2009); R. Wolfrum, Legitimacy in
International Law, in: A. Reinisch/U. Kriebaum (eds.), The Law of International
Relations. Liber Amicorum Hanspeter Neuhold, 471, at 481 (2007).
1288 christian tomuschat

treaty providing for institutional machinery, the more urgent the ques-
tion becomes whether the acts produced by that machinery may be
accepted as democratically legitimate. But to call into question interna-
tional law in general, treating it as no more than one of the elements
which any rational decision on international relations should “take into
account” like any other political consideration, is a manifest aberration
to which only writers having their home in a global super-power can
fall prey.15

C. Different Areas of Risk and Security

I. International Peace and Security

1. The Principle of Non-Use of Force
One striking case of lack of trust in regimes established by treaty law is
provided by the UN Charter. Non-recourse to force is the key element
of the international legal order ushered in after World War II. Article
2(4) encapsulates the philosophy of a world where conflicts between
States are settled in a peaceful manner. The total defeat of Nazi Germany
gave rise to the hope that indeed the members of the international
community would co-exist with one another in a harmonious way and
that sovereign equality would become a living reality even for small
and weak States, not just a legal postulate ceding to the slightest wind
of adversity. On the other hand, there was a general awareness that the
operation of the system of collective security was highly precarious, in
that the main responsibilities were entrusted to the Security Council
where every one of the five permanent members could at any time
block envisaged action by casting its veto. Accordingly, in parallel to
the system of collective security, provision was made under Article 51
for like-minded nations to associate in alliances for the purposes of
collective self-defence. In particular in the tension-laden relationship
between Western countries, on the one hand, and socialist countries,
on the other, the risk of placing trust in the effectiveness of the UN
system was considered much too great, almost suicidal. Real security
could be expected only of an alliance of nations sharing basic values of
freedom and democracy. The West established NATO; the socialist
States associated themselves under the Warsaw Pact. Even today, after

15
J.L. Goldsmith/E.A. Posner, The Limits of International Law, at 83 et seq. (2005).
 risk and security in international law1289

the demise of political socialism in the northern part of the world, the
UN system inspires little confidence. It has become a matter of com-
mon knowledge that universal solidarity has certain limits. Security to
be provided by the UN system cannot be relied upon as the mechanical
outcome of a legal regime designed to ensure international peace and
security. Military engagement requires considerable sacrifices, not just
in money, but also in human lives. No government is prepared blindly
to honour promises made in the past without looking afresh into the
matter once the critical threshold is reached.

2. International Humanitarian Law

A similar issue is related to international humanitarian law (IHL). In
1945 some idealists believed that IHL had become superfluous. Since
the evil per se, namely the criminal Nazi regime, had been eradicated,
it could be expected that the absence of war would constitute not only
a transient situation, but a firmly established, permanent state of affairs
in world society, in full consonance with Kant’s Perpetual Peace.16
However, these voices soon lost their persuasiveness and disappeared
completely. Realists had always maintained that wars or armed con-
flicts had to be reckoned with as facts of life. It would indeed have been
a tragic gamble to renounce IHL on account of the hope that human-
kind had ascended to a higher level of moral existence. It stands to
reason that neither military strategists and commanders nor interna-
tional lawyers are fond of IHL for its own sake. But they see it as a
necessity in the eventuality that, against all precautions and guarantees,
an armed conflict should break out. IHL embodies an attempt, even
during the major disaster a human community may go through, to
maintain a minimum level of civilization. To rely on full compliance
with the principle of non-use of force would amount to an adventurous
risk as long as the view prevails that an armed conflict should remain
limited to the greatest extent possible.

3. Disarmament and Arms Control

Given the less than absolute security which treaties in the field of inter-
national peace and security provide, the question has many times

16
The decision of the ILC not to include IHL in its 1949 programme of work must
be seen against this backdrop: see UN (ed.), The Work of the International Law
Commission, Vol. I, at 36 (7th ed. 2007).
1290 christian tomuschat

arisen whether under specific circumstances the conclusion of a treaty

is at all recommendable. Disarmament and arms control put the super-
powers in this dilemma during the time of the cold war, and their pre-
occupations continue to this very day. A formal agreement provides
some kind of apparent security. Pledges made in documentary form,
founded on political compromises which constitute at least a modus
vivendi, cannot be discarded from the very outset as a Potemkin vil-
lage. But the general climate of mistrust was not replaced by mutual
trust. Both the Soviet Union and the United States were concerned, not
without understandable reasons, that the other side might attempt to
circumvent a regime agreed upon. Military strategists generally insisted
that emergency situations might abruptly emerge where immediate
responses were necessary. In such situations, to disentangle oneself
from the commitments of a treaty would take an excessive amount of
time. Accordingly, it was much better to rely on unilateral measures
which were also suited to generating some minimal degree of confi-
dence on the part of the potential adversary but which could be aban-
doned without any preliminary procedural formalities.
In the relationship between the Soviet Union and the United States
all imaginable configurations of a reciprocal regime can be observed.
Coming to some terms proved advisable after the Soviet Union had
also acquired nuclear weapons to be fitted on to missiles which could
target objectives in the United States (1954). During the first phase the
two superpowers watched one another as closely as possible, but with-
out establishing any institutional links. Arms Limitation Talks were
commenced in 1969. In May 1972, these talks led to the conclusion of
the ABM Treaty.17 It received the requisite approval by the parliamen-
tary bodies responsible on both sides so that the instruments of ratifi-
cation could be exchanged in October 1972. Under the Treaty, a
Standing Consultative Commission was established in which any ques-
tion relating to compliance could be raised and discussed. A denuncia-
tion clause, copied from the 1968 Non-Proliferation Treaty,18 reflected
both sides’ concern not to endanger their security by the commitments
assumed. It provided (Article XV(2)):
Each Party shall, in exercising its national sovereignty, have the right to
withdraw from this Treaty if it decides that extraordinary events related

17
 Treaty on the Limitation of Anti-Ballistic Missile Systems, 26 May 1972, 944
UNTS 13, available at http://www.state.gov/www/global/arms/treaties/abm/abm2
.html.
18
 Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons, 1 July 1968, 729 UNTS 161.
 risk and security in international law1291

to the subject matter of this Treaty have jeopardized its supreme interests.
It shall give notice of its decision to the other Party six months prior to
withdrawal from the Treaty. Such notice shall include a statement of the
extraordinary events the notifying Party regards as having jeopardized its
supreme interests.
Talks on the limitation of strategic offensive arms began after the ABM
success in November 1972. After many years of negotiations, the text of
SALT II19 was signed on 18 June 1979 in Vienna. In the United States,
the treaty was submitted for advice and consent to the Senate but
President Carter withdrew it after the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan.
Notwithstanding the tension generated by that aggression between the
two nations, the two sides promised mutually to abide by the terms of
the unratified treaty. This state of affairs lasted until 1986 when
President Reagan declared that the Soviet Union had not complied
with its “political commitment” to live up to the stipulations agreed
upon in 1979. SALT II never came juridically into force.
The INF Treaty20 providing for the elimination of medium-range
missiles rested again on a clearly identifiable interest of both sides to
eliminate these weapons, which were considered to put the peace in
Europe at too great a risk. The Treaty was signed on 8 December 1987,
and it came into force less than six months later on 1 June 1988. It
proved highly effective. Its great advantage was that it provided for a
sophisticated verification regime (Article XI). Indeed, a purely factual
situation which does not permit on-site inspections is necessarily sub-
ject to suspicions of circumvention and cheating. Following the success
of the INF Treaty, a verification regime was also envisaged in the
START I Treaty,21 which was signed on 31 July 1991 but, because of the
break-up of the Soviet Union, was able to enter into force only on 5
December 1994.22 However, in the time between its signature and its
formal coming into force, it was already being actively implemented.

19
 Treaty on the Limitation of Strategic Offensive Arms, 18 I.L.M. 1138 (1979), avail-
able at http://www.state.gov/www/global/arms/treaties/salt2–2.html.
20
 Treaty between the United States of America and the Union of Soviet Socialist
Republics on the Elimination of Their Intermediate-Range and Shorter-Range Missiles,
8 December 1987, 1657 UNTS 2, available at http://www.state.gov/www/global/arms/
treaties/inf2.html.
21
 Treaty on the Reduction and Limitation of Strategic Offensive Arms (START I),
31 July 1991, 31 ILM 246 (1992), available at http://www.state.gov/www/global/arms/
starthtm/start/treatytc.html#TREATYTOC.
22
The successor States of the Soviet Union on whose territory nuclear weapons and
missiles were deployed had to be included in the regime by virtue of an additional
protocol.
1292 christian tomuschat

According to a report by the US Department of State, the Soviet Union

did not cheat on its commitments.23 START II,24 on the other hand,
intended to decrease the levels of armaments even further, was signed
and received the approval of the US Senate in 1996, but was delayed by
the Russian Duma which gave its consent finally in April 2000 when
both sides had already lost interest in it. It never came into force.
There is no need to go into more particularized details. The example
shows that in respect of disarmament and arms control States act with
the utmost circumspection, being continually afraid that conventional
stipulations may prove to be no more than hollow words.25 In the spe-
cific relationship between the United States and the Soviet Union,
treaty-less situations and situations governed by detailed treaty regimes
followed one another without any great differences as to the practical
effects. Accordingly, strategists warned that a treaty regime should not
be an option to be preferred automatically.26 Treaty regimes have only
one great advantage, namely that they provide the necessary basis for a
verification regime which cannot be operated without specific agree-
ments which permit members of the armed forces of the potential
adversary to carry out inspections on national soil.27 Obviously, such
inspections are suited to dispelling indefinite fears. However, given the
freer flow of information today facilitated by sophisticated satellites,
voices can now even be heard that the era of treaty-making may largely
be over in the field of disarmament.28 During the Cold War a stabilizing
factor was the certainty that on both sides rational actors calculated the
risks and chances with mathematical precision, using for this purpose
the latest insights of game theory. Thus, it could be taken for granted
that not even the Soviet Union was intent on sacrificing its own people
on ideological grounds. Within this intellectual framework, the risks

23
 Adherence to and Compliance with Arms Control, Nonproliferation and
Disarmament Agreements and Commitments, 8 July 2010, available at http://www
.state.gov/documents/organization/145181.pdf.
24
 Treaty on the Further Reduction and Limitation of Strategic Offensive Arms,
3 January 1993, available at http://www.state.gov/www/global/arms/starthtm/start2/
stiitoc.html#TREATYTOC.
25
 See G. Duffy (ed.), Compliance and the Future of Arms Control, at 1 (1988):
“if compliance is not recognized, then the agreement becomes little more than a
meaningless scrap of paper”.
26
Th.C. Schelling/M.H. Halperin, Strategy and Arms Control, at xiii, 177 (1985).
27
 Id., at 78.
28
J.P. Rubin, Farewell to the ‘age of the treaty’, International Herald Tribune,
23 November 2010.
 risk and security in international law1293

became to some extent measurable, although the balance of terror had

the devilish taste of Mutually Assured Destruction (MAD) as the final
outcome, should the strategists’ fine cobweb of considerations fail.29

II. Environment
Since the Stockholm UN Conference on the Human Environment30
humankind has become generally aware of the threats which jeopard-
ize its survival. During the ensuing four decades, numerous efforts
have been undertaken to identify those threats and to devise appropri-
ate strategies to avert the most intrusive challenges. This is not the place
to comment on this process. On the legal plane, reference should only
be made to the precautionary principle, which as a political guideline is
designed to prevent remote risks from materializing,31 and to the great
hesitations States have in assuming commitments in respect of damage
caused to the environment as a consequence of risk activities. A typical
reflection of this hesitation is the 2006 Draft principles on the alloca-
tion of loss in the case of transboundary harm arising out of hazardous
activities.32 Each country is here in an ambivalent situation. On the one
hand, governments would welcome receiving compensation if they
should become the victims of such injury, compensation guaranteeing
at least some kind of security. On the other hand, they mostly consider
it too risky to shoulder the burden of liability for damage which could
reach enormous unpredictable dimensions.33

III. Membership of International Organizations

For traditional thinking, the best legal device which a State has at its
disposal for defending its identity and integrity is the principle of sov-
ereignty. It is not by accident that sovereignty is mentioned first in the

29
For a broad discussion of the moral issues involved see J.S. Nye, Nuclear Ethics
(1986).
30
 See Declaration of 16 June 1972, 11 ILM 1416 (1972).
31
 See, for instance, M. Schröder, Precautionary Approach/Principle, Max Planck
Encyclopedia of Public International Law; R. Wolfrum, Precautionary Principle, in:
J.-P. Beurier et al. (eds.), New Technologies and Law of the Marine Environment, 203
(2000).
32
[2006] Report of the ILC, GAOR A/61/10, 105 para. 64.
33
 In respect of Antarctica see R. Wolfrum, Liability for Environmental Damage in
Antarctica: Supplement to the Rules on State Responsibility or a Lost Opportunity?, in:
I. Buffard et al. (eds.), International Law between Universalism and Fragmentation.
Festschrift in Honour of Gerhard Hafner, 817 (2008).
1294 christian tomuschat

list of principles which Article 2 of the UN Charter contains. Pursuant

to its sovereign authority, each State is the master in its own territory.
As indicated in the Friendly Relations Declaration of the UN General
Assembly,34 it decides on its political, social, economic and cultural
configuration under its sole responsibility. Although a duty of co-
operation is also hinted at in the Charter, States enjoy an almost unlim-
ited degree of legal self-sufficiency under both the UN Charter and
customary (general) international law. Sovereignty thus safeguards
security. However, no lengthy considerations are needed to show that
this kind of legal security finds itself threatened today, not just by acts
of military aggression, but also by a multitude of other factors. No State
can effectively manage its economy while remaining an isolated out-
sider. Protection of the environment also requires sophisticated sys-
tems of international co-operation. And the fight against international
crime cannot be won even by the most powerful State acting alone.
Obviously, there is no need to extend this paradigmatic list. Additional
examples could be given almost ad nauseam.
Consequently, in order to avert the threats stemming from the phe-
nomena just outlined, States will in many instances have no choice
other than to join with others in establishing international organiza-
tions. It is trivial to note that they have indeed done so on a massive
scale. The primary examples of this development are the United Nations
and the European Union. However, as is generally known, these lead-
ing organizations are surrounded by hundreds and even thousands of
other organizations of a regional or functional character, invariably
with a more limited mandate.
While membership of an international organization may become a
firewall of protection against a variety of dangers looming in the inter-
national environment, States acceding to an international organization
assume new and different risks, but of a different nature. While in prin-
ciple a sovereign State is not subject to the will of any other govern-
mental structure, a member of an international organization will have
to accept the decisions taken within the organization to the extent that
they have binding character. As long as decision-making is based on
unanimity, national sovereignty finds itself fully respected. However,
international organizations would very soon become paralysed if each
and every decision had to be taken by a unanimous vote. At universal

34
GA Res. 2625 (XXV) of October 1970.
 risk and security in international law1295

level, a veto right of every one of the 192 members of the world organi-
zation would open up a frightening scenario. Indeed, at the United
Nations only the five permanent members of the Security Council
enjoy a veto right in matters of international peace and security. By
joining the United Nations, every State accepts the authority of the
Security Council. This authority has no legal bounds. For the first time,
it was challenged by the decision of the Court of Justice of the European
Community/Union in the Kadi case, where the European judges held
that the Security Council could not claim paramountcy over the human
rights guarantees of the European legal order.35 Politically, the veto
right of the permanent members has been contested almost since the
inception of the United Nations. But it is hardly conceivable that it may
ever be abolished. Instead, discussions centre on the advisability of
adding new members to the privileged group of five (P5), with or with-
out a veto right. In particular, it is emphasized time and again that
Third World countries are not adequately represented. Neither Africa
nor Latin America has a permanent seat, and China, the “Middle
Kingdom”, cannot claim to be the spokesperson for all Asian countries,
still remaining a mostly inward-looking nation.
Although the legal configuration resulting from the powers granted
to the Council under Chapter VII of the Charter carries with it
considerable risks, no State can really afford to remain outside the
world organization. Whoever ventured to go it alone would remain in
a precarious situation, in particular being excluded from the decision-
making processes at the universal level. Thus, no government is really
in a position soberly to balance risk and security. It is undeniable,
however, that the weight of risk and security is not the same for all
members of the United Nations. On the one hand, Western States do
not really envisage the eventuality that they may ever come under the
focus of the Security Council. On the other hand, they can in any event
be sure that their interests would be taken care of by their representa-
tives in the Security Council, France, the United Kingdom and the
United States. Thus, a nation which has a protector among the perma-
nent members of the Security Council does not really incur a risk by
submitting to Chapter VII of the UN Charter. Prospects are different
for countries which remain outside such tight links of mutual solidar-
ity. Argentina had to endure that bitter experience during the Falkland/

 Cases C-402/05 P and 415/05 P, 2008 ECR I-6351.

35
1296 christian tomuschat

Malvinas war. The Security Council supported the United Kingdom’s

position.36 Vainly did Argentina call for solidarity within the group of
States of the Western hemisphere. A permanent seat for Latin America
would have profoundly changed the risk configuration. Libya and Iraq
also feature prominently among the countries which have experienced
the hardship susceptible of being entailed by a sanctions regime put
into operation by the Security Council. For many years, Libya lived
under an embargo which deeply impacted on its international trans-
port relations.37 After its aggression against Kuwait, Iraq, for its part,
saw itself confronted with harsh conditions imposed by resolution 687
(1991) of the Security Council in lieu of a peace treaty.
In the European Union, majority decisions have increasingly become
a matter of routine. Even for a regional organization with “only” 27
member States a general unanimity rule would be devastating. Over
the years, the majority rule has been progressively extended to new
subjects as confidence has increased and as it has emerged that in some
areas the requirement of unanimity would be tantamount to endless
frustrating negotiations. Under the Lisbon Treaty somewhat more than
50 configurations remain where the implementation of the provisions
of the Treaty presupposes a unanimous vote, whereas in 40 instances
the requirement of unanimity was replaced by a qualified majority
vote. However, these configurations all carry major political weight.
During the negotiation process leading to the current regime, it was
one of the major concerns of the participating governments to check
with the utmost care to what dangers they would submit by switching
from unanimity to majority rule. Taxation is one of the areas where
governments have not abandoned their sovereign power of unilateral
decision-making (Article 113 Treaty on the Functioning of the
European Union, TFEU). In the field of foreign policy, too, national
competences have been vigorously defended. Most member States see
unanimity regarding decisions on foreign policy as the determinative
criterion of their continued existence as sovereign States.
In Germany, recent debates on the constitutionality of the Lisbon
Treaty indeed raised decision-making by a majority as a major issue.

36
 SC Res. 502 of 3 April 1982.
37
 See SC Res. 748 of 31 March 1992 and 883 of 11 November 1993 as well as the
judgment of the ICJ in Questions of Interpretation and Application of the 1971 Montreal
Convention arising from the Aerial Incident at Lockerbie (Libyan Arab Jamahiriya v.
United Kingdom), ICJ Reports 1998, 9.
 risk and security in international law1297

Some of the applicants who brought the Treaty before the Federal
Constitutional Court claimed that in order to preserve Germany as
a sovereign State the unanimity rule was indispensable. Germany
would lose its original statehood if it consented to transfers of pow-
ers subjecting it to majority decisions.38 Fortunately, the Constitu­
tional Court had already rejected this contention in its judgment of
1993 on the Maastricht Treaty. Rightly, in that judgment it held that
Germany would be losing its ability to join integrationist processes
should it insist on unfettered freedom to decide on any matters pursu-
ant to its own sovereign discretion.39 In the judgment on the Lisbon
Treaty, the Court rejected this view again, not becoming seduced by
the thesis that sovereign statehood could only be safeguarded by
insisting on unanimity as an insurmountable barrier to foreign
interference.
Indeed, the German Constitution of 1949, the Basic Law, deliber-
ately distanced itself from the classical concept of the sovereign State.
From the very beginning it embraced the idea of a united Europe as the
basis of peace and security. The Preamble could not be any more
explicit in that regard. It proclaims that when adopting the Basic Law
the German people were “inspired by the determination to promote
world peace as an equal partner in a united Europe”. Other reflections
of this determination can be found in Articles 23 and 24. The latter
provision expresses–somewhat optimistically!–its faith in systems of
“mutual collective security”. A coherent construction of these provi-
sions must reach the conclusion that through them the Federal Republic
of Germany has accepted being bound by decisions adopted within the
framework of such organizations, provided that the mechanisms of
decision-making are fair and free from any discriminatory features.
Indeed, the experience of two world wars taught the German people
that peace and security do not have their roots primarily in national
self-sufficiency and that, instead, international co-operation is the best
guarantee of such a desirable state of affairs.

38
BVerfGE 123, 267, 30 June 2009, at 305: “The Council can no longer provide
sufficient legitimacy that is derived from the peoples of the Member States. The
chain of legitimacy to the national parliaments is broken in particular by the major-
ity principle, which is applied as a norm.”, English translation available at http://www
.bundesverfassungsgericht.de/entscheidungen/es20090630_2bve000208en.html, mar-
gin number 101.
39
BVerfGE 89, 155, at 183; English translation: 33 ILM 388, at 419 (1994).
1298 christian tomuschat

IV. Acceptance of General Rules of International Law

Along similar lines of an optimistic interpretation of history, the Basic
Law opted for granting the general rules of international law a
privileged place in the domestic legal order. Article 25 provides as
follows:
The general rules of international law shall be an integral part of federal
law. They shall take precedence over the laws and directly create rights
and duties for the inhabitants of the federal territory.
To submit in such an unrestricted manner to the general rules of inter-
national law would be considered unacceptable by many more sover-
eignty-minded States. First of all, it is not absolutely clear what general
rules of international law means. The famous listing of sources of inter-
national law in Article 38 of the ICJ Statute does not acknowledge this
specific class of rules of international law. It mentions, apart from trea-
ties, customary law as well as “the general principles of law recognized
by civilized nations”. General international law is a concept which
appears here and there in international jurisprudence but has never
been entirely clarified.40 Second, it is clear from the foregoing that the
content and scope of general international law are far from being
unambiguously defined. Third, it is also clear that general international
law emerges from spontaneous processes which evolve in the interna-
tional sphere without being placed under a rigid Cartesian plan of logic
and stringency. And yet, when the Basic Law was drafted, the general
assumption was that norms emerging from the practice of all States
and which applied also to all States could not be suspected of having
threatening features. Nobody voiced dissent against this inroad of
international law into the domestic legal order. Over a period of 60
years, Article 25 has stood the test of time. The original assumption
that, on account of its nature, general international law could not be
threatening to the legitimate interests of a nation has been fully con-
firmed. One does not find a single case where critical voices would
have argued that the impact of the general rules placed too much of a
burden on Germany.41

40
For a recent attempt at clarification see C. Tomuschat, What is ‘general interna-
tional law’?, in: Guerra y Paz: 1945–2009. Obra homenaje al Dr. Santiago Torres
Bernárdez, 329 (2010).
41
 C. Tomuschat, comments on Article 25 BL, in: R. Dolzer/H.-J. Abraham (eds.),
Bonner Kommentar zum Grundgesetz, at margin notes 65–71 (June 2009).
 risk and security in international law1299

V. Participation in Systems of Compulsory Settlement of Disputes

Participation in systems of compulsory settlement of disputes is
another of the phenomena which may be studied in the perspective of
risk and security. In many instances, judicial settlement constitutes just
one of the aspects of membership of an international organization. This
is the case, above all, in the European Union. The normative edifice of
the European Union is not only tight in respect of its substantive rules.
Additionally, the mechanisms of judicial enforcement have reached a
degree of perfection which undoubtedly surpasses the density such
mechanisms possess in many sovereign countries. However, domi-
nance of judicial enforcement may also be encountered outside inter-
national organizations proper. Thus, the European Convention on
Human Rights (ECHR) has been pushed by the work of the Strasbourg
Court of Human Rights (ECtHR) to a level of excellence which should
be an enviable model for all other regions of this globe. The only–
major!–weakness of the Strasbourg system is that it has attracted such
huge numbers of applications that it is currently in danger of sinking
under the weight of all those seeking justice against the governmental
and judicial bodies of their own countries.42
In principle, judicial settlement is the best device for ensuring
that the letter and the spirit of an international instrument be main-
tained. Judges are not supposed also to expand the legal bases of the
institutional framework on which they are founded. On the other hand,
it is a matter of common knowledge that they cannot be reduced to the
role of machines which mechanically reproduce decisions which one
can find ready-made in the texts they are mandated to apply. No judge
is simply “la bouche qui prononce les paroles de la loi”.43 This abstract
ideal of a judicial power which is en quelque façon nul serves in our
time only as an illustration of a tremendous misunderstanding of the
judicial function. In other words, one cannot deny judges some discre-
tion in construing the law.44 Progressive development by following the

42
 See, for instance, C. Tomuschat, The European Court of Human Rights
Overwhelmed by Applications: Problems and Possible Solutions, in: R. Wolfrum/
U. Deutsch, The European Court of Human Rights Overwhelmed by Applications: The
Problems and Possible Solutions, 1 (2009).
43
Montesquieu, De l’esprit des lois, Book XI, Chapter VI (1748).
44
This was recently acknowledged by the German Constitutional Court with regard
to the CJEU: Judgment Honeywell, 6 July 2010, 2 BvR 2661/2009, available at http://
www.bundesverfassungsgericht.de/entscheidungen/es20090630_2bve000208en.html,
paras. 63–65.
1300 christian tomuschat

specificities of the cases to be adjudicated is not alien to the judicial

function. Since judges, pursuant to the concept of the rule of law, are
independent, not subject to any governmental instructions or other
forms of pressure, borderline cases can give rise to serious difficulties.
And since the subject-matter of international disputes mostly concerns
issues impacting on national sovereignty, governments are generally
fairly nervous about the consequences of the relevant judgments.
In some instances, governments have no real choice but to accept
international adjudication. Whoever wishes to be a member of the
Council of Europe has the “political obligation” also to accede to the
ECHR. Under this Convention as applicable since 1998 any State party
must at the same time accept the jurisdiction of the ECtHR. Reservations
are not permitted. The risk of being exposed to unforeseen judicial
decisions cannot be circumvented a priori. The former system accord-
ing to which States could accept the substantive body of the ECHR
without submitting to the ECtHR has been definitively abandoned.
Under that former regime some kinds of reservations were permitted
when a State took the non-obligatory decision to accept the jurisdic-
tion of the ECtHR. But such reservations could be of only limited
scope. In particular, no reservations “of a general character” were
admissible. Some States encountered unpleasant surprises when they
made borderline reservations. Thus, in the Belilos case45 Switzerland
was told by the ECtHR that a reservation made to Article 6(1) ECHR
on criminal proceedings was indeed of a general nature and therefore
had to be considered invalid, without affecting the validity of the dec-
laration of acceptance as such. This inference was not very well rea-
soned. The Court confined itself to stating that it was “beyond doubt
that Switzerland is, and regards itself as, bound by the Convention irre-
spective of the validity of the declaration”.46 In a later and more dra-
matic case (Loizidou),47 Turkey’s reservation regarding the operations
of its military forces abroad was tested by the ECtHR. Turkey had rec-
ognized the jurisdiction of the ECtHR only with regard to individual
applications
“concerning acts or omissions of public authorities in Turkey, performed
within the boundaries of the territory to which the Constitution of the
Republic of Turkey is applicable”.48

45
ECHR, Belilos v. Switzerland, Judgment of 29 April 1988, Appl. No. 10328/83.
46
 Id., para. 60.
47
ECHR, Loizidou v. Turkey, Judgment of 23 March 1995, Appl. No. 15318/89.
48
 Id., para. 15.
 risk and security in international law1301

It is obvious that Turkey had formulated its reservation with the utmost
care, believing it to have made it watertight. Nonetheless, the ECtHR
rejected it as too far-reaching, not being covered by the clauses
of Article 63 which permitted the exclusion of non-metropolitan ter-
ritories from the territorial scope of a declaration of acceptance. At the
same time, it reiterated as in the Belilos case that, notwithstanding
the invalidity of the reservation filed, the declaration as such was valid:
the invalidity of the reservation did not entail the invalidity of the
declaration, the declaration being treated as severable. This bold pro-
nouncement went entirely counter to Turkey’s expectations. For the
Court, one of the key considerations was that in view of its earlier juris-
prudence Turkey had consciously run
the risk that the limitation clauses at issue would be declared invalid by
the Convention institutions without affecting the validity of the declara-
tions themselves.49
Today, after the disappearance of the system of reservations, misunder-
standings about the scope and meaning of a reservation can no longer
emerge. However, with the growing number of adjudicated cases the
threat that applications will push the ECtHR into borderline areas of
the ECHR is inevitably growing at the same time. One of these symp-
tomatic cases is the Italian Lautsi case50 where, at first instance, the
ECtHR held that to display a crucifix in a classroom amounted to a
violation of the religious freedom both of students and their parents.
For Italy, the display of a crucifix in the classroom was essentially a
manifestation of the cultural tradition of Italy. It is clear that a judg-
ment on such a delicate issue by an international court is less easily
accepted by the country concerned than a similar pronouncement of
its own supreme or constitutional court.
All States parties to the ECHR indeed run the risk of being surprised
by a judgment from Strasbourg which conflicts with their intimate
convictions about good order in society. As the Lautsi case has shown,
the margin of appreciation left to States provides only imperfect pro-
tection. But no government would on the other hand dare to denounce
the ECHR on account of that risk. The ECHR has become such a natu-
ral component of the domestic orders of all 47 States parties that

49
 Id., para. 95.
50
ECHR, Lautsi v. Italy, Judgment of the Second Section of the ECHR of 3 November
2009, Appl. No. 30814/06. An appeal to the Grand Chamber resulted in setting aside
that decision, see judgment of the Grand Chamber of 18 March 2011.
1302 christian tomuschat

domestic societies would view such withdrawal as a revolutionary act

jeopardizing the rule of law. No longer are the governments, which pri-
marily manage foreign affairs, the masters of a nation’s destiny in this
regard. The people themselves request to be asked about such existen-
tial choices. Only in the case of Russia could it be imagined that with-
drawal from the Strasbourg system would be ordered from above,
given the high number of pending Russian cases and the high rate of
ensuing convictions. Everywhere else, the risk of being confronted
with “unfitting” decisions by the ECtHR is considered far less impor-
tant than the security engendered by the sweeping control exercised by
that Court over the governmental actions of the country concerned
with a view to consolidating the rule of law.
In the case of the International Court of Justice (ICJ) the basic data
differs significantly from those of the CJEU and the ECtHR. Although
the ICJ is the “principal judicial organ of the United Nations”, its juris-
diction is not compulsory for any member of the world organization.
Article 36 of the ICJ Statute has organized a sophisticated system for
the acceptance of that jurisdiction. States have a choice of three meth-
ods. They can submit to the jurisdiction of the ICJ in the light of a
specific case, by virtue of a general clause to that effect in a bilateral or
multilateral agreement, or through a unilateral declaration. In all three
situations, the relevant governmental departments scrupulously weigh
the pros and cons of having to face up to a binding decision of the ICJ
should one of those clauses be invoked, bringing them into operation
in connection with an actual dispute.
Jurisdictional clauses in international treaties do not pertain to the
routine final provisions to which little attention is paid. Rather, the
European integration treaties as well as the ECHR must be considered
exceptional. Many agreements have never been complemented by a
jurisdiction clause. This is the case, in particular, with regard to treaties
in the field of humanitarian law. Although the four Geneva Conventions
of 1949 have received unrestricted support from all regions of the
world, leaving not a single outsider, no consensus has emerged on pro-
viding for the judicial settlement of disputes relating to allegations of
breach of the rules of jus in bello. All States seem to fear that such dis-
putes may have tremendous implications, being susceptible of leading
to unpredictable reparation claims. Thus, it is preferred to leave this
field to diplomatic negotiation should actual controversies arise. The
delicate character of disputes over alleged violations of IHL is also
underlined by the fact that the timid effort to establish some sort of
 risk and security in international law1303

third-party mechanism, namely the creation of the International Fact-

Finding Commission under Article 90 of Additional Protocol I, has to
date proved ineffective. The Commission became operational in 1991
after 20 States Parties had accepted its competence. But after being
in existence for almost 20 years, it has not received a single request
for an inquiry. Apparently, in all relevant situations the risk that the
Commission might discover some abuses not only on the part of an
adversary, but also on the part of the applicant was invariably judged to
be too serious. Unfortunately, decisions on whether to request an
investigation will never be made without the extensive hearing of mili-
tary commanders, who rarely see the long-term benefits of an objective
investigation.
Whenever a jurisdiction clause is included in a treaty, this will have
been preceded by a lengthy discussion on the risks inherent in it. The
1948 Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of
Genocide (hereinafter: Genocide Convention) is famous in this regard.
According to its Article IX, all disputes between the contracting par-
ties relating to the interpretation, application or fulfilment of the
Convention are to be submitted to the ICJ “at the request of any of the
parties to the dispute”. For the Soviet Union and its socialist allies this
clause appeared initially unacceptable, due to their general rejection of
adjudication of international disputes by international judges. The res-
ervations which they entered into51 gave rise to the famous advisory
opinion of the ICJ which ushered in a new regime of reservations
according to which they are in no need of acceptance by all States par-
ties.52 Many other nations light-heartedly accepted the clause, believing
that in any event as law-abiding members of the international commu-
nity they could never be charged with committing genocide. Thus, sub-
scribing to the jurisdiction of the ICJ in respect of instances of genocide
was more a symbolic gesture manifesting confidence in the Court
without any real significance. It therefore came as a kind of shock to
them when the former Yugoslavia based its claims against NATO
member countries on account of the Kosovo war precisely on Article
IX of the Genocide Convention. It is true that the ICJ did not go along

51
The Soviet Union, Ukraine and Byelorussia (now: Belarus) withdrew their reser-
vations in March and April 1989, see http://treaties.un.org/pages/ViewDetails.aspx?src
=TREATY&mtdsg_no=IV-1&chapter=4&lang=en.
52
 ICJ, Reservations to the Convention on Genocide, ICJ Reports 1951, 15.
1304 christian tomuschat

with this assertion.53 Conduct of hostilities cannot be equated with per-

petrating genocide. But the respondent countries had to defend their
position in formal proceedings, being compelled to engage in consid-
erable intellectual and financial expenditure for that purpose. A similar
problematique became visible when Georgia brought an application
against Russia on the basis of the jurisdiction clause in the International
Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination
(Article 22). Despite the opposition of Russia, the ICJ indicated provi-
sional measures enjoining both sides not to aggravate the situation on
the ground.54
Making a unilateral declaration under Article 36(2) of the ICJ Statute
also requires a great deal of strategic thinking. Only a few countries
have made such a declaration.55 Many governments do not trust their
own respectability as far as compliance with international law is con-
cerned, or else they are afraid that they may be subjected to vexatious
claims. Indeed, the crucial question is what benefit a State may gain by
accepting the jurisdiction of the ICJ vis-à-vis all other States which
likewise accept it. No clear-cut answer can be given. In principle, by
taking that step, a State acquires the right to bring an application against
any other State which has also submitted to the jurisdiction of the ICJ.
Yet, as can be seen from the rather limited number of declarations
under Article 36(2), the chances that disputes which are appropriate
for judicial settlement could indeed brought to the ICJ are fairly slim.
Additionally, it is well known that many governments have included in
their declarations such a great number of sophisticated reservations
that the requirement of reciprocity will rarely be met. In this regard,
India tops the list of lawyerly cleverness. After many decades, India still
resents having been outwitted by Portugal in Right of Passage over
Indian Territory,56 where Portugal instituted legal proceedings only a
few days after having filed its declaration under Article 36(2). After that
experience, India modified its declaration as already hinted. For France,

53
 ICJ, Legality of Use of Force (Serbia and Montenegro v. Belgium), Provisional
Measures, ICJ Reports 1999, 124, 138, para. 40.
54
Application of the International Convention on the Elimination of all Forms of
Racial Discrimination (Georgia v. Russian Federation), Provisional Measures, ICJ
Reports 2008, 353. Recently, the application was dismissed for lack of jurisdiction
because no attempt had been made by Georgia to exhaust negotiations, judgment of 1
April 2011.
55
 Currently (October 2010), the index provided by the ICJ shows 66 countries.
56
 ICJ, Case concerning Right of Passage over Indian Territory (Preliminary
Objections), ICJ Reports 1957, 125, 145–148.
 risk and security in international law1305

a traumatic experience was the Nuclear Tests case where the ICJ, before
comprehensively assessing its jurisdiction with regard to an application
brought by Australia and New Zealand on account of the French
nuclear tests in the Pacific Ocean, issued an interim injunction57 order-
ing France to desist from further nuclear tests causing the deposit of
radio-active fall-out on Australian territory.58 In its declaration under
Article 36(2), France had explicitly excluded any “disputes concerning
activities connected with national defence”. This surprise motivated
France to withdraw that declaration immediately.59 It remains subject
to the jurisdiction of the ICJ only on the basis of conventional agree-
ments under Article 36(1). Lastly, the United States of America felt
unjustly treated by the ICJ when the application brought against it by
Nicaragua was considered to come within the Court’s jurisdiction not-
withstanding a definite lack of clarity in Nicaragua’s relevant declara-
tion.60 On that occasion, it furthermore became aware of the fact that
its declaration was affected by major deficiencies. In particular the so-
called “Connally Reservation”61 was of no avail since attacks against
Nicaragua could in no manner whatsoever be characterized as “domes-
tic matters”. Accordingly, it prudently renounced the invocation of that
reservation, rightly realizing that it had to be afraid of an outright
rejection of any such abusive extension of the concept of “domestic
matters”. As in the case of France, its response was to withdraw its
declaration under Article 36(2). Since that time, it has been able to be
sued only pursuant to conventional clauses. Even this eventuality was
considered to be fraught with frightening prospects after it had
emerged in LaGrand62 and Avena63 that the Optional Protocol concern-
ing Compulsory Settlement of Disputes to the Vienna Convention
on Consular Relations provided a vast potential for action for States

57
 According to the text of Article 41 ICJ Statute, this was an indication of provi-
sional measures.
58
Nuclear Tests (Australia v. France), Interim Protection, ICJ Reports 1973, 99, 106.
59
 It is notorious that the ICJ refrained from pronouncing on its jurisdiction because
it held that the case had become moot through official French declarations that the
tests would not be continued: see Nuclear Tests (Australia v. France), ICJ Reports 1974,
253, 268–272.
60
 ICJ, Military and Paramilitary Activities in and against Nicaragua (Nicaragua v.
United States of America), Jurisdiction and Admissibility, ICJ Reports 1984, 392.
61
The “Connally Reservation” excluded from the jurisdiction of the ICJ matters
under domestic jurisdiction “as determined by the United States of America”.
62
LaGrand (Germany v. United States of America), ICJ Reports 2001, 466.
63
Avena and Other Mexican Nationals (Mexico v. United States of America), ICJ
Reports 2004, 12.
1306 christian tomuschat

challenging certain practices of the US authorities. Accordingly, the

United States denounced the Optional Protocol although it has no
denunciation clause.64
The Federal Republic of Germany is the latest of the countries
to have made a declaration under Article 36(2) ICJ Statute. No great
substantive benefit was expected from this decision. Germany wished
primarily to manifest its faith in the judicial settlement of interna-
tional disputes, thereby strengthening in general the position of
the ICJ within the framework of peaceful international relations.65
Notwithstanding this positive approach to the jurisdiction of the ICJ, it
elected to exclude from the matters thought appropriate for adjudica-
tion any dispute relating to operations of German military forces
abroad or to military uses of its territory. It indeed considered that
military operations might be the source of unforeseeable consequences;
in any event, disputes resulting therefrom should not be settled by
the ICJ.66
As far as the law of the sea under the UN Convention is concerned,
the problems connected with the choice of jurisdiction are of a differ-
ent nature. In principle, judicial settlement is compulsory, but the par-
ties are free to decide which judicial body they prefer (Article 287
UNCLOS). Governments have to assess whose jurisdiction they con-
sider to be least risky. When going through the declarations registered
with the secretariat of UNCLOS, one finds that apparently very few
elements were available for them to rely upon for this choice. Many
Third World countries seem to have indicated their preference for the
ITLOS just because it is a new institution in the composition of which
more room is given for judges from their own regions. On the part of
Russia and successor States of the Soviet Union, the traditional distaste

64
 See comment by J. Quigley, The United States’ Withdrawal from International
Court of Justice Jurisdiction in Consular Cases: Reasons and Consequences, 19 Duke
Journal of Comparative and International Law 263 (2008–2009); W.M. Reisman/
M.H. Arsanjani, No Exit? A Preliminary Examination of the Legal Consequences of
United States’ Withdrawal from the Optional Protocol to the Vienna Convention on
Consular Relations, in: M.G. Kohen (ed.), Promoting Justice, Human Rights and
Conflict Resolution through International Law. Liber Amicorum Lucius Caflisch, 897
(2007).
65
 See C. Eick, Die Anerkennung der obligatorischen Gerichtsbarkeit des Inter­
nationalen Gerichtshofs durch Deutschland, 68 ZaöRV 763, at 766 (2008).
66
 See C.J. Tams/A. Zimmermann, “[T]he Federation Shall Accede to Agreements
Providing for General, Comprehensive and Compulsory International Arbitration”,
51 German Yearbook of International Law 390, at 410–415 (2009).
 risk and security in international law1307

for judicial bodies with a pre-determined bench is still visible.67 The

only State which has laid open the reasons for its preference for the ICJ
is the UK.68 Indeed, the UK has generally fared quite well with the ICJ.
A shade of gratitude certainly weighed in Nicaragua’s selection of the
ICJ as well.

D. Concluding Observations

When inquiring into risk and security in international law, one enters
a multi-faceted world. Like any branch of law, international law is gen-
erally meant to provide protective devices against threats which may
derail a nation from its planned course of development. Careful strate-
gic examination of the environment may help to establish safeguards
against perceptible risks. In many instances, in order to acquire greater
security it will be necessary to assume risks of a different, more control-
lable nature. Eventually, however, the observer must acknowledge that
such legal safeguards derive their effective force from the underlying
political consensus. Without such consensus, legal devices, no matter
how scrupulously they have been thought out, may be swept away by
the ground forces active in international society.

67
Both Russia and Ukraine have opted for arbitral settlement. Belarus has followed
them closely.
68
 Declaration of 12 January 1998: “In accordance with Article 287, paragraph 1, of
the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, the United Kingdom of Great
Britain and Northern Ireland chooses the International Court of Justice for the settle-
ment of disputes concerning the interpretation or application of the Convention.
The International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea is a new institution, which the
United Kingdom hopes will make an important contribution to the peaceful settlement
of disputes concerning the law of the sea. In addition to those cases where the
Convention itself provides for the compulsory jurisdiction of the Tribunal, the United
Kingdom remains ready to consider the submission of disputes to the Tribunal as may
be agreed on a case-by-case basis.”
 Das Ende der Unschuld? Völkerrechtliche
Aspekte des Einsatzes militärischer Gewalt
durch Truppen der Bundeswehr am Beispiel
Afghanistans

Silja Vöneky

A. Einleitung

Zu den zentralen Forschungsbereichen meines verehrten akademi-

schen Lehrers Rüdiger Wolfrum, der meine gesamte wissenschaftli-
che Laufbahn begleitet und unterstützt hat, gehörte immer auch
die völkerrechtliche Analyse des gerechtfertigten Einsatzes und
der Begrenzung militärischer Gewalt, also der große Bereich des
Friedensbewahrungs- und Sicherheitsvölkerrechts. Dabei wurden
von ihm immer auch Fragen des klassischen Kriegsvölkerrechts,
aber auch der Friedenswahrung und Konfliktvermeidung durch die
Vereinten Nationen in den Blick genommen.1 Dass die Befriedung und
Stabilisierung Afghanistans eine seiner zentralen Anliegen der letzten
Jahre war, zeigt sich nicht nur an der Publikationen Rüdiger Wolfrums
zu dieser Frage,2 sondern insbesondere an seinem intensiven rechtsbe-
ratenden Engagement durch die insgesamt neun Afghanistan-Projekte
im Bereich des Justizwesens und der öffentlichen Verwaltung, durch-
geführt am Max-Planck-Institut in Heidelberg und vor Ort in
Afghanistan.
Im Anschluss an diese Praxis und an die gemeinsame Forschung soll
im Folgenden eine völkerrechtliche Analyse der Lage in Afghanistan
mit Blick auf die deutschen Truppen und deren Einsätze, sofern militä-
rische Gewalt angewendet wird, erfolgen. Dabei geht es zentral um die

1
Vgl. die gemeinsame Abhandlung S. Vöneky/R. Wolfrum, Die Reform der
Friedensmissionen der Vereinten Nationen und ihre Umsetzung nach deutschem
Verfassungsrecht, 62 Zeitschrift für ausländisches öffentliches Recht und Völkerrecht
596 (2002).
2
Vgl. R. Wolfrum, International Administration in Post-Conflict Situations by the
United Nations and Other International Actors, in: A. von Bogdandy/R. Wolfrum,
(Hrsg.), 9 Max Planck Yearbook of United Nations 1 (2005).
1310 silja vöneky

Frage, welche Grenzen das Völkerrecht dem Einsatz der Streitkräfte

der Bundeswehr setzt.3
Bei der völkerrechtlichen Betrachtung der Situation der deutschen
Truppen in Afghanistan sollen im Folgenden drei Fragen unterschie-
den werden: Zunächst ist zu untersuchen, nach welchen völkerrechtli-
chen Regeln sich bestimmt, ob militärische Gewalt eingesetzt werden
darf. Da die Bundeswehrtruppen Teil der International Security
Assistance Force (ISAF) in Afghanistan sind, ist deren Mandat völker-
rechtlich näher zu betrachten, aber auch die völkergewohnheitsrechtli-
chen Regeln der Intervention auf Einladung (vgl. unter B. unten). Zum
Zweiten soll der Frage nachgegangen werden, ob das ius in bello, also
das Kriegsvölkerrecht oder sog. humanitäre Völkerrecht Anwendung
auf diese Einsätze findet, mithin der Bereich des Völkerrechts, der fest-
legt, wie militärische Gewalt in bewaffneten Konflikten eingesetzt
werden darf (vgl. unter C. unten). Zum Dritten schließlich ist zu ana-
lysieren, ob die sonstigen völkerrechtlichen Normen, insbesondere die
internationalen Menschenrechte, Anwendung finden bei diesem und
ähnlichen Auslandseinsätzen der Bundeswehr (vgl. unter D. unten).
Die Beantwortung dieser Fragen ist entscheidend, will man den
völkerrechtlichen Rahmen auch künftiger Auslandseinsätze der Bun­
deswehr abstecken. Dabei wird sich zeigen, dass die drei Fragenkomplexe
zwar unterschieden werden müssen, aber nicht völlig getrennt neben-
einanderstehen.4 Als Exkurs soll zudem der Frage nachgegangen

3
Wie stark die Kampfhandlungen in Afghanistan sind, wurde jedenfalls spätestens
seit der Tanklasterbombardierung auf der Grundlage eines Bundeswehrbefehls
am 4. September 2009 auch der deutschen Öffentlichkeit deutlich: Damals wurden
zwei NATO-Tanklaster in der Nähe eines Bundeswehrlagers in Afghanistan von
Aufständischen entführt; die deutsche Luftaufklärung stellte fest, dass die
Tankfahrzeuge in einem Flussbett 6 km von der deutschen Operationszentrale fest-
steckten. Daraufhin gab der deutsche Oberst wenige Stunden später, in derselben
Nacht, den Befehl zur Bombardierung der beiden Laster. Die Tanklastzüge wurden
getroffen und zerstört, aber auch zahlreiche Menschen getötet. Nach einem NATO-
Untersuchungsbericht sollen bis zu 142 Menschen getötet worden sein, vgl. Frankfurter
Allgemeine Zeitung (FAZ) vom 29. Oktober 2009, Luftangriff nahe Kundus:
Bundeswehr sieht sich durch Nato-Bericht entlastet, verfügbar unter http://faz.net/
-00lisw. Dabei wurden zwischen 30 und 40 Zivilisten neben 50 bis 70 Taliban-Kämpfern
verletzt oder getötet; von 69 Taliban und 30 Zivilisten sprechen Quellen in der afgha-
nischen Regierung, vgl. dazu insgesamt FAZ vom 29. Oktober 2009, id.
4
Nicht näher betrachtet werden die staats- und verfassungsrechtlichen Fragen
dieses und anderer Auslandseinsätze deutscher Truppen; also insbesondere nicht
die Anforderungen der Art. 87a (2) iVm. Art. 24 (2) GG (vgl. dazu bereits Vöneky/
Wolfrum (Fn. 1), 596 ff. und das Gesetz über die parlamentarische Beteiligung
bei der Entscheidung über den Einsatz bewaffneter Streitkräfte im Ausland
(Parlamentsbeteiligungsgesetz) vom 18. März 2005, BGBl. I, 775). Erforderlich ist
 das ende der unschuld?1311

werden, ob und in welchem Umfang deutsche Grundrechte bei

Auslandssachverhalten wie dem vorliegenden gelten (vgl. unten E.).

B. Das Völkerrecht zur Anwendung militärischer Gewalt

(ius ad bellum): Das ISAF-Mandat als Grundlage und Grenze
des Einsatzes der Bundeswehrtruppen in Afghanistan und die
Grenzen einer Intervention auf Einladung

Zentraler Bestandteil der Völkerrechtsordnung als Friedensordnung

ist das zwischenstaatliche Gewaltverbot nach Art. 2 Nr. 4 Satzung
Vereinte Nationen (SVN).5 Vorliegend sind die Bundeswehrtruppen
Teil der ISAF-Truppen.6 Diese werden auf der Grundlage von jährlich
seit dem Sturz des Taliban-Regimes im Dezember 2001 erneuerten
Mandaten des Sicherheitsrates der Vereinten Nationen nach Kapitel
VII der Satzung Vereinten Nationen für die Stabilisierung Afghanistans
eingesetzt:7 Aufgabe der Truppen ist es danach, die Staatsorgane
Afghanistans bei der Aufrechterhaltung der Sicherheit – seit 2003 in
ganz Afghanistan und unter NATO-Kommando – zu unterstützen.
Zur Aufgabenerfüllung werden die Mitgliedstaaten, die am ISAF-
Mandat teilnehmen, in den Resolutionen des Sicherheitsrates ermäch-
tigt, alle notwendigen Maßnahmen zu ergreifen, um ihr Mandat zu

danach, und das wurde in Literatur und Rechtsprechung erschöpfend diskutiert,

die konstitutive Zustimmung des Bundestages für solche Einsätze; zuletzt hat
der Bundestag das Mandat der ISAF Truppen bis 31. Januar 2012 verlängert, vgl.
BT-Drs. 17/4402 (Fortsetzung der Beteiligung bewaffneter deutscher Streitkräfte
an dem Einsatz der Internationalen Sicherheitsunterstützungstruppe in Afghanistan
(International Security Assistance Force, ISAF) unter Führung der NATO auf
Grundlage der SR Res. 1386 (2001) vom 20. Dezember 2001 und folgender Reso­
lutionen, zuletzt SR Res. 1943 (2010) vom 13. Oktober 2010). Bereits am 22. Dezember
2001 stimmte der Deutsche Bundestag erstmals der Entsendung deutscher Streit­
kräfte zur Umsetzung der SR Res. 1386 (2001) mit großer Mehrheit zu (BT-Drs.
14/7930).
5
Satzung der Vereinten Nationen vom 26. Juni 1945, USTS No. 993, zuletzt geän-
dert mit GA Res. 2847 (XXVI) vom 20. Dezember 1971, 892 UNTS 119; deutsche
Übersetzung: BGBl. 1973 II, 431, zuletzt berichtigt durch Bekanntmachung vom 28.
August 1980, BGBl. 1980 II, 1252.
6
International Security Assistance Force, vgl. BT-Drs. 14/7930.
7
Völkerrechtliche Rechtsgrundlagen des Einsatzes sind die dreizehn
Sicherheitsratsresolutionen SR Res. 1386 vom 20. Dezember 2001; 1413 vom 23. Mai
2002; 1444 vom 27. November 2002, 1510 vom 13. Oktober 2003; 1563 vom 17.
September 2004; 1623 vom 13. September 2005; 1707 vom 12. September 2006; 1776
vom 19. September 2007; 1833 vom 22. September 2008; 1890 vom 8. Oktober 2009;
1917 vom 22. März 2010; 1943 vom 13. Oktober 2010; 1974 vom 22. März 2011.
1312 silja vöneky

erfüllen („to take all necessary measures to fulfil its mandate“).8 ISAF ist
damit eine internationale Stabilisierungsmission, die nicht nur den
Selbstschutz, sondern auch den Missionserfolg militärisch absichert.
Dies wird auch – allerdings ungenau – mit dem Begriff „robust peace-
keeping“9 umschrieben.10 Unbezweifelbare Grundlage für den völker-
rechtlich gerechtfertigen Einsatz militärischer Gewalt durch die
Bundeswehr in Afghanistan scheint zunächst daher dieses ISAF-
Mandat zu sein: Der Terminus „alle notwendigen Maßnahmen“ schließt
auch die Anwendung militärischer Gewalt ein. Als Ausnahme von dem
Gewaltverbot erkennt die Satzung der Vereinten Nationen Maßnahmen
des Sicherheitsrates auf der Grundlage von Kapitel VII SVN bei
Bedrohung oder Bruch des Friedens ausdrücklich an. Dennoch ist
umstritten, wie weit dieses Mandat reicht: Zum Teil wurde schon früh-
zeitig von politischer Seite vertreten, dass die deutschen Soldaten im
Rahmen von ISAF direkt gegen die Aufständischen vorgehen kön-
nen.11 Dagegen wenden sich jedoch diejenigen, die eine enge Auslegung
des ISAF-Mandats vertreten: Im Unterschied zu der Operation
Enduring Freedom, die von den USA (aber eben nicht mehr von
Deutschland)12 in Afghanistan durchgeführt werde, sei Ziel der
ISAF nicht die aktive Terrorismusbekämpfung. ISAF-Soldaten dürften
daher lediglich dann militärische Gewalt anwenden, wenn jene sich
individuell oder kollektiv selbst verteidigen, also bei Notwehr

    8
Vgl. u.a. SR Res. 1890 vom 8. Oktober 2009, Präambel: „Acting for these reasons
under Chapter VII of the Charter of the United Nations, […] 3. Authorizes the member
States participating in the International Security Assistance Force to take all necessary
measures to fulfil its mandate.“; sowie zuletzt auch entsprechend SR Res. 1943 vom 13.
Oktober 2010.
    9
Vgl. zum Begriff Vöneky/Wolfrum (Fn. 1), 581.
10
So etwa E. Afsah/A.H. Guhr, Afghanistan: Building a State to Keep the Peace,
in A.v. Bogdandy/R. Wolfrum, (Hrsg.), 9 Max Planck Yearbook of United Nations Law
373 (2005); vgl. auch SR Res. 1776 vom 19. September 2007.
11
 K.-Th. zu Guttenberg/H.-U. Klose, Ein einziges Mandat für Afghanistan,
FAZ vom 29. Juni 2007, 10.
12
So ausdrücklich dargelegt im Antrag der Bundesregierung vom 29. Oktober
2008, in dem beantragt wird, das OEF-Mandat der Bundeswehr mit 800 Soldaten
bis zum 15. Dezember 2009 – auf der völkerrechtlichen Grundlage Art. 51 SVN, Art. 5
Nordatlantikvertrag, SR Res. 1368 vom 20. Dezember 2001 und SR Res. 1373 vom 28.
September 2001 – zu verlängern: Dort heißt es „Deutschland beteiligt sich zukünftig
nicht mehr an der OEF-Mission auf afghanischem Boden. Mit dem Verzicht auf die
Bereitstellung von 100 Spezialkräften im Rahmen der dortigen OEF-Mission zieht die
Bundesregierung die Konsequenzen aus der Schwerpunktverlagerung in Afghanistan
von OEF hin zu ISAF. Deutschland wird sich zukünftig militärisch in Afghanistan nur
noch im Rahmen von ISAF engagieren.“ BT-Drs. 16/10720; anders noch Antrag BReg.
16/26, 3. November 2005.
 das ende der unschuld?1313

und Nothilfe,13 oder wenn regierungsfeindliche Gruppen sich der

Mandatserfüllung durch die Soldaten mit Waffen in den Weg stellen.14
Gegen eine solche enge Auslegung sprechen jedoch aus völkerrecht-
licher Sicht die Sicherheitsratsresolutionen selbst: Seit 2004 wird in den
Präambeln dieser Sicherheitsrats-Resolutionen darauf hingewiesen,
dass ISAF nicht nur mit der afghanischen Regierung, sondern auch mit
der Koalition der Operation Enduring Freedom zusammenarbeiten
solle. Es wird also eine enge Verbindung beider Operationen ange-
mahnt.15 Seit der Resolution 1623 von 2005 wird von „illegalen bewaff-
neten Gruppen“ (illegal armed groups) gesprochen und deren Auflösung
als Aufgabe von ISAF benannt.16 Seit Resolution 1707 von 2006 werden
die Taliban und Al-Qaida ausdrücklich als Bedrohung für die Sicherheit
Afghanistans benannt.17
Zudem ist zu bedenken, dass auch wenn es nicht primäres Ziel
des ISAF-Mandats ist, doch der angestrebte Effekt dieses Mandats
darin liegt, auch terroristische und aufständische Aktivitäten auf
afghanischem Territorium dauerhaft zu unterbinden, um die Stabilität
Afghanistans zu erzielen.18 Die Einheiten der ISAF waren und sind
damit mandatiert, offensive Operationen gegen regierungsfeindliche
Kräfte durchzuführen.19
Folgt man dieser Ansicht und damit der weiten Auslegung
des Mandats jedoch nicht, so stellt sich als weitere entscheidende
völkerrechtliche Frage, ob die über das Mandat hinausgehenden

13
 K. Hommelhoff, Eine afghanische Trias: Deutschland zwischen Wiederaufbau
und Kampfeinsatz, 20 Humanitäres Völkerrecht 179, 183 (2007).
14
So auch der Abgeordnete W. Kolbow in einer Bundestagsdebatte; vgl. Deutscher
Bundestag, Stenografischer Bericht 230. Sitzung, 2. Juli 2009, Plenarprotokoll 16/230,
25741.
15
Vgl. SR Res. 1563 vom 17. September 2004, Präambel. In der SR Res. 1707 vom
12. September 2006 wird von einer „increased coordination between ISAF and the OEF
Coalition“ gesprochen; sehr deutlich werden in Res. 1776 (2007) vom 19. September
2007 sowie Res. 1943 vom 13. Oktober 2010 ISAF und OEF zusammen genannt.
16
S.o. Fn. 7.
17
Id.
18
Entsprechend Afsah/Guhr (Fn. 10), 374.
19
Die überarbeitete Tactical Directive der NATO vom 6. Juli 2009, die für die ISAF
gilt, wird noch deutlicher: „Our strategic goal is the insurgency threatening the stability
of Afghanistan. […] We must fight the insurgents […]. … counterinsurgencies are difficult
to win. Nevertheless, we will win this war.“ Verfügbar unter http://www.nato.int/isaf/
docu/official_texts/Tactical_Directive_090706.pdf. Vgl. auch BT-Drs. 16/8279. Aus
operativen Gründen werden jedoch keine Angaben dazu gemacht, wie oft die Quick
Reaction Force (QRF) im Zuständigkeitsbereich des deutschen Regionalkommandos
Nord in Kämpfe mit oppositionellen bewaffneten Gruppen verwickelt wurde.
1314 silja vöneky

Kampfhandlungen der deutschen ISAF-Truppen völkerrechtswid-

rig sind, da die Bundesrepublik dazu nicht vom Sicherheitsrat
ermächtigt wurde. Nicht überzeugen kann hier das Argument, dass
Gewaltanwendungen in Afghanistan noch als berechtigte Akte kol­
lektiver Selbstverteidigung wegen der Anschläge vom 11. September
2001 – also vor fast zehn Jahren – auf der Grundlage von Art. 51 SVN20
einzustufen sind. Auch wenn gegenwärtig immer noch die Operation
Enduring Freedom so gerechtfertigt wird, scheidet dies schon deswe-
gen aus, weil kein von außen kommender gegenwärtiger bewaffne-
ter Angriff, wie von Art. 51 SVN gefordert, gerichtet gegen die
Bundesrepublik oder einen anderen Staat durch die aufständischen
Taliban vorliegt.
Es finden hier jedoch die gewohnheitsvölkerrechtlichen Regeln der
Intervention auf Einladung Anwendung, also der Regeln zur völker-
rechtlichen Zulässigkeit des Einsatzes fremder Truppen im internen
Konflikt auf Einladung der Regierung. Auch wenn einige Unschärfen
bestehen, kann doch davon ausgegangen werden, dass es kein völker-
rechtliches Verbot der Intervention auf Einladung gibt.21 Gegen die
Zulässigkeit der Intervention auf Einladung kann auch nicht ange­
führt werden, dass ein Entscheidungsmonopol des Sicherheitsrates
über jede Form zwischenstaatlicher Zusammenarbeit im Bereich der
Anwendung militärischer Gewalt besteht: Die Vereinten Nationen
wur­den nicht gegründet, um per se individuelles Handeln der Mit­
gliedstaaten zu ersetzen, wie auch der Blick auf Art. 51 SVN zeigt. Es ist
vielmehr von der Reservefunktion des Eingreifens auf Einladung für
das kollektive Sicherheitssystem auszugehen. Es gibt allerdings völker-
gewohnheitsrechtliche Voraussetzungen und Grenzen dieser militäri-
schen Unterstützung eines anderen Staates. Entscheidend ist, um
Missbrauch auszuschließen, dass eine vorhergehende freie Einwilligung
des hilfesuchenden Staates, also hier Afghanistans, in die militärischen
Hilfeleistungen vorliegt:22 Die Form ist unerheblich, die Einwilligung
darf aber nicht auf Irrtum, Betrug, Zwang oder Drohung beruhen.23

20
„Nothing in the present Charter shall impair the inherent right of individual or coll-
ective self-defence if an armed attack occurs against a Member of the United Nations,
until the Security Council has taken measures necessary to maintain international peace
and security.“, Art. 51 SVN (Fn. 5).
21
G. Nolte, Intervention by Invitation (Januar 2010), Rn. 27, in: R. Wolfrum (Hrsg.),
Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law, online edition, verfügbar unter
http://www.mpepil.de, (2008–2011).
22
Id., Rn. 15.
23
Id., Rn. 16.
 das ende der unschuld?1315

Die Einwilligung muss zudem durch eine effektive und allgemein aner-
kannte Regierung erfolgen;24 eine fehlende oder mangelhafte demokra-
tische Legitimation der Regierung ist jedoch kein Ausschlussgrund für
die Wirksamkeit der Einwilligung.25 Unerheblich ist auch, wenn die
Regierung keine effektive Kontrolle über das Gesamtterritorium aus-
übt.26 Dies alles ist vorliegend erfüllt, hat die im Amt befindliche, inter-
national anerkannte afghanische Regierung unter Staatsoberhaupt
Karzai doch mehrfach die truppenstellenden Staaten um militärische
Hilfe gebeten. Entscheidend ist jedoch, dass diese Bitte um militärische
Hilfe andauert27 und dass sich die militärische Hilfe der Bundesrepublik
im Rahmen der afghanischen Anforderung hält.
Zusammenfassend ist für die Frage der Reichweite und Grenzen des
ius ad bellum daher festzustellen, dass die militärische Bekämpfung
regierungsfeindlicher Truppen in Afghanistan zumindest bei einer
weiten Auslegung noch dem ISAF-Mandat und damit der Satzung der
Vereinten Nationen entspricht. Hält man dagegen nur eine enge
Auslegung des Mandats für überzeugend, muss die militärische
Gewaltanwendung in Afghanistan den gewohnheitsrechtlichen Regeln
der Intervention auf Einladung entsprechen, um völkerrechtskonform
zu sein. Auch dies ist vorliegend der Fall, solange sich die militärische
Hilfe der Bundesrepublik im Rahmen der afghanischen Anforderung
hält.

C. Die Anwendbarkeit des Kriegsvölkerrechts

Ist das Kriegsvölkerrecht auf die deutschen Truppen in Afghanistan

anwendbar, – deswegen ist diese Frage so entscheidend – ist es den
deutschen Truppen völkerrechtlich erlaubt, militärische Ziele des
Gegners zu zerstören und gegnerische Kombattanten und Kämpfer
anzugreifen und zu töten.28 Auch wenn es mittlerweile der h
­ errschenden

24
Id., Rn. 17.
25
Id., Rn. 18.
26
Id., Rn. 18.
27
Vgl. S. Mühlmann, Karzai: NATO soll den Einsatz in Afghanistan beenden, Die
Welt vom 13. März 2011, verfügbar unter http://www.welt.de/print/wams/politik/
article12797804/Karsai-Nato-soll-den-Einsatz-in-Afghanistan-beenden.html.
Diese Aus­sage wurde jedoch bereits am nächsten Tag dementiert: 33 Tote bei Anschlag
in Kundus: Karzai relativiert Kritik am Einsatz ausländischer Truppen, FAZ vom
15 März 2011, 7.
28
Die Bundesrepublik Deutschland ist Partei aller entscheidenden Verträge
des Kriegsvölkerrechts: der Haager Landkriegsordnung vom 18 Oktober 1907 (HLKO)
1316 silja vöneky

Ansicht entspricht, dass Kriegsvölkerrecht auf die Truppeneinsätze in

Afghanistan anwendbar ist, da ein nicht-internationaler bewaffneter
Konflikt vorliege,29 ist es lohnend, zur Klarstellung dieser Position die
relevanten völkerrechtlichen Argumente darzustellen.
Zunächst wird die Anwendbarkeit des Kriegsvölkerrechts nicht
dadurch ausgeschlossen, dass – wie oben vertreten – das ISAF-Mandat
des Sicherheitsrates maßgebliche Grundlage des Einsatzes der Bundes­
wehrtruppen in Afghanistan ist. Dies gilt insbesondere deswegen,
da der Sicherheitsrat in den entscheidenden ISAF-Resolutionen30
selbst feststellt, dass in Afghanistan das Kriegsvölkerrecht und die
Menschenrechte grundsätzlich einzuhalten seien („international huma-
nitarian and human rights law has to be upheld.“).31 Die Verpflichtungen
aus dem Mandat widersprechen daher nicht denen des Kriegsvöl­
kerrechts, so dass die Vorrangregelung nach Art. 103 SVN nicht greift.
Nach den Genfer Konventionen (GK) von 1949 als Kern des Kriegs­
völkerrechts ist zunächst entscheidend für deren Anwendbarkeit, ob
ein „bewaffneter Konflikt“ im Sinne von Art. 2 der GK vorliegt. Dabei
ist übereinstimmende Ansicht, dass jedenfalls dann von einem bewaff-
neten Konflikt im Sinne des Kriegsvölkerrechts gesprochen werden
kann, wenn erstens faktisch militärische Waffengewalt eingesetzt wird
und zweitens dieser Gewalteinsatz eine bestimmte Intensität erreicht
hat.32 In Afghanistan werden spätestens seit 2009 – auch durch die
Truppen der Bundesrepublik – militärische Mittel genutzt, um die
Taliban zu bekämpfen.33 Diese Gewalteinsätze haben auch einen

(RGBl. 1910, 107), den Genfer Konventionen vom 12. August 1949 (GK) (BGBl. 1954
II, 783, 813, 838, 917; 75 UNTS 31, 85, 135, 287) und den Zusatzprotokollen zu den
Genfer Konventionen vom 8. Juni 1977 (ZP I/ZP II) (BGBl. 1990 II, 1551, 1637; 1125
UNTS 3, 609); zudem ist sie an das gewohnheitsrechtlich geltende Kriegsvölkerrecht
gebunden.
29
Vgl. die Nachweise bei M. Bothe, Friedenssicherung und Kriegsrecht, in: W. Graf
Vitzthum (Hrsg.), Völkerrecht, 639, 738 Fn. 660 (5. Aufl. 2010) und Ch. Schaller,
Rechtssicherheit im Auslandseinsatz, 2009/67 Stiftung Wissenschaft und Politik
Aktuell, 3 f.
30
S.o. Fn. 7.
31
Vgl. nur die Präambel SR Res. 1917 vom 22. März 2010.
32
Ch. Greenwood, Scope of Application of Humanitarian Law, in: D. Fleck (Hrsg.),
The Handbook of International Humanitarian Law, 45, 46, Rn. 202 (2008); ausdrück-
lich keine bewaffneten Konflikte im Sinne des Kriegsvölkerrechts liegen jedoch vor in
Fällen von inneren Unruhen und Spannungen wie Tumulten und vereinzelt auftreten-
den Gewalttaten; dies ergibt sich aus Art. 1 (2) ZP II.
33
N. Kulish, German Limits on War Face Afghan Reality, New York Times vom 26.
Oktober 2009, verfügbar unter http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/27/world/27germany
.html.
 das ende der unschuld?1317

bestimmten Grad der Intensität, wie die Todeszahlen auf beiden

Seiten zeigen. Anfang Oktober 2009 wurden beispielsweise zehn
NATO-Soldaten und bis zu hundert Taliban-Kämpfer bei Kämpfen
getötet.34 Es liegt daher ein bewaffneter Konflikt im Sinne des Kriegs­
völkerrechts in Afghanistan vor. Dabei ist kriegsvölkerrechtlich nicht
maßgeblich, dass der militärische Gegner kein anderer Staat ist. In
einem solchen Fall finden die kriegsvölkerrechtlichen Regeln des
nicht-internationalen bewaffneten Konfliktes Anwendung, die heute
in vielen Bereichen denen des internationalen bewaffneten Konfliktes
gleichen. Nach dem maßgeblichen Zweiten Zusatzprotokoll zu den
Genfer Konventionen (Art. 1 ZP II)35 ist ein nicht-internationaler
Konflikt jedenfalls dann gegeben, wenn ein bewaffneter Konflikt im
Hoheitsgebiet einer Vertragspartei zwischen deren Streitkräften und
organisierten bewaffneten Gruppen (organized armed groups) stattfin-
det, sofern die organisierten bewaffneten Gruppen unter einer
verantwortlichen Führung eine solche Kontrolle über einen Teil des
Hoheitsgebietes der Vertragspartei ausüben, dass sie anhaltende, koor-
dinierte Kampfhandlungen durchzuführen und dieses Protokoll anzu-
wenden vermögen. Da Afghanistan, wie auch Deutschland, Partei des
ZP II ist,36 sind diese Anwendungsvoraussetzungen entscheidend.
Es handelt sich bei den Taliban zudem – nach allem was bekannt
ist – um organisierte bewaffnete Gruppen, die unter einer verant­
wortlichen Führung stehen und zumindest einen Teil Afghanistans,
den Süden, so kontrollieren, dass sie lang anhaltende und koordi-
nierte Kampfhandlungen durchführen können. Auch in einem
nicht-internationalen37 bewaffneten Konflikt müssen nach dem
gewohnheitsrechtlich geltenden kriegsvölkerrechtlichen Prinzip der
Unterscheidung zivile Objekte einerseits und militärische Objekte
andererseits unterschieden werden (vgl. auch Art. 48 ZP I analog und

34
Insgesamt wurden im Zeitraum von Oktober 2001 bis April 2011 1551
US-Soldaten, 364 britische Soldaten sowie 509 Soldaten anderer Nationen getötet,
vgl. http://icasualties.org/oef/.
35
S.o. Fn. 28.
36
Afghanistan ist Vertragspartei seit dem 10. November 2009.
37
Nach anderer Ansicht (Bothe (Fn. 29), 737 f., Rn. 127 f.) ist von einem internatio-
nalisierten Konflikt zu sprechen, da dritte Staaten auf afghanischem Gebiet kämpfen;
dagegen spricht jedoch, dass diese dritten Staaten auf Seiten der Regierungstruppen
gegen Aufständische kämpfen, sodass die Regeln eines internationalen bewaffneten
Konfliktes, die auf Staatenkriege ausgerichtet sind, funktional nicht passend sind.
Anderes würde nur gelten, wenn dritte Staaten die Aufständischen gegen die
Regierungstruppen unterstützen würden, vgl. dazu D. Fleck, The Law of Non-
International Armed Conflicts, in: Fleck (Fn. 32), 605, 605 ff., Rn. 1201.
1318 silja vöneky

52 (1 und 2) ZP I analog). Kriegsvölkerrechtlich zulässig ist damit

immer nur der Angriff auf ein militärisches Ziel (vgl. Art. 13 ZP II).
Militärische Ziele sind nach der weiten Auslegung in der Staatenpraxis
solche Objekte, die ex ante betrachtet auf Grund ihrer Beschaffenheit,
ihres Standortes, ihrer Zweckbestimmung oder ihrer Verwendung
wirksam zu militärischen Handlungen beitragen und deren gänzli-
che oder teilweise Zerstörung unter den in dem betreffenden
Zeitpunkt gegebenen Umständen einen militärischen Vorteil darstellt
(vgl. auch Art. 52 Abs. ZP I analog). Werden also durch die Taliban
Tanklaster entführt, die als Treibstoffversorgungsstellen auf Grund
ihrer Beschaffenheit einen effektiven Beitrag zu militärischen
Handlungen leisten, da diese das Benzin für ihre Truppenversorgung
nutzen können oder die Laster als rollende Bomben eingesetzt werden
können,38 so stellen diese militärische Objekte und rechtmäßige militä-
rische Ziele im Sinne des Kriegsvölkerrechts dar.
Nicht völlig geklärt ist jedoch, wann nach Kriegsvölkerrecht
Aufständische, Taliban, angegriffen werden dürfen. Nach einer Ansicht
ist dies nur der Fall, wenn diese als offensive Zivilisten in konkrete
Kampfhandlungen verwickelt sind, da die Taliban gerade keine
Kombattanten darstellen.39 Dieser Ansicht ist zuzugestehen, dass die
Taliban keine Kombattanten im Sinne des Kriegsvölkerrechts sind, da
sie keinem Staat zugerechnet werden können, insbesondere nicht dem
afghanischen. In Art. 4 A Nr. 2 GK III40 wird jedenfalls als notwendige
Bedingung für den Kombattantenstatus bestimmt, dass diese zu einer
am Konflikt beteiligten Partei, also zu einem am Konflikt beteiligten
Staat, gehören müssen. Allerdings dürfen Taliban auch als (Status-)
Zivilisten dann angegriffen werden, wenn sie sogenannte offensive
Zivilisten sind, also unmittelbar an Feindseligkeiten teilnehmen
(„as they take a direct part in hostilities“, vgl. Art. 13 (3) ZP II). Es ist
eines der zentralen Probleme der gegenwärtigen kriegsvölkerrechtli-
chen Diskussionen, wann von einer solchen unmittelbaren Teilnahme
an den Feindseligkeiten ausgegangen werden kann.41 Dabei erscheint

38
Vgl. dazu Fn. 3.
39
Vgl. zu dieser Ansicht näher S. Vöneky, The Fight against Terrorism and the Rules
of the Law of Warfare, in Ch. Walter/S. Vöneky/V. Röben/F. Schorkopf (Hrsg.),
Terrorism as a Challenge for National and International Law: Security versus Liberty?,
925, 936 ff. (2004).
40
Vgl. auch Art. 43 (1) und (2) ZP I analog.
41
Vgl. dazu auch die IKRK Studie: ICRC, Interpretive Guidance on the Notion
of Direct Participation in Hostilities under International Humanitarian Law vom 26.
 das ende der unschuld?1319

überzeugend, dass eine enge Auslegung zu erfolgen hat, da Zielrichtung

des Kriegsvölkerrechts als sog. humanitäres Völkerecht ist, Zivilisten
vor direkten Angriffen zu schützen. Nach überzeugender Ansicht ist
von einer unmittelbaren Teilnahme nur dann zu sprechen, wenn
Zivilisten sich in einer konkreten Kampfmission befinden.42
Dennoch erscheint die Konzentration der Diskussion auf den Begriff
der offensiven Zivilisten zu verkürzt: Oft wird übersehen, dass in nicht-
internationalen bewaffneten Konflikten eine dritte Kategorie von
Personen rechtmäßiges Ziel von Angriffen sein können. Dies sind
neben Kombattanten und offensiven Zivilisten auch Mitglieder organi-
sierter bewaffneter Gruppen (organized armed groups).43 Eine solche
Gruppe ist gegeben, wenn ihre Mitglieder dieselbe Funktion erfüllen
wie Kombattanten in internationalen bewaffneten Konflikten, also ihre
ständige Funktion ist, an Feindseligkeiten teilzunehmen.44 Dies umfasst
aber – zu Recht – nicht Personen, wenn sie nur sporadisch zu den
Waffen greifen.
Bemerkenswert – insbesondere für am deutschen Grundgesetz
geschulte Juristen – an den Bestimmungen des Kriegsvölkerrechts ist,
dass kriegsvölkerrechtlich ein Angriff nicht bereits dann unterbleiben
muss, wenn unbeteiligte Zivilisten als Nebenfolge getroffen werden
können.45 Verboten ist nach dem Kriegsvölkerrecht nur ein Angriff
bei dem ex ante damit zu rechnen ist, dass die Zahl der sogenannten
zivilen Kollateralschäden in keinem Verhältnis steht zu dem gewonne-
nen militärischen Vorteil („which would be excessive“, Art. 51 (5) ZP I
analog).46 Ihren Schutz entfalten kann diese Bestimmung daher nur,

Februar 2009, 90 International Review of the Red Cross 991 (2008), abrufbar unter
http://www.icrc.org/eng/assets/files/other/irrc-872-reports-documents.pdf.
42
So S. Vöneky (Fn. 39), 946 f; J. Frowein, Der Terrorismus als Herausforderung für
das Völkerrecht, 62 Zeitschrift für ausländisches öffentliches Recht und Völkerrecht
879, 892 (2002).
43
ICRC (Fn. 41) 1001. Auch im deutschen Völkerstrafgesetzbuch von 2002 werden
Angehörige der gegnerischen Streitkräfte und „Kämpfer der gegnerischen Partei“
gleichgestellt (§§ 8 (6) Nr. 3; 11 (1) Nr. 7 Völkerstrafgesetzbuch vom 26. Juni 2002,
BGBl. I, 2254).
44
ICRC (Fn. 41), 1007.
45
Vgl. Schaller (Fn. 29), 7.
46
Zu beachten ist zudem der seitens der Bundesrepublik Deutschland einge-
legte Vorbehalt zu dem ZP I, kraft dessen Deutschland im Rahmen der
Verhältnismäßigkeitsprüfung des Art. 57 ZP I den militärischen Vorteil eines militäri-
schen Angriffs insgesamt und nicht lediglich in Bezug auf einzelne Angriffshandlungen
für maßgeblich erklärt hat: „Applying the rule of proportionality in Art. 51 and Art. 57
military advantage is understood to refer to the advantage anticipated from the
attack considered as a whole and not only from isolated or particular parts of the attack.“
1320 silja vöneky

wenn für einen Befehlenden vor dem Angriff damit zu rechnen ist,
dass sich Zivilisten am geplanten Angriffsort befinden. Ist jedoch ex
ante nach einer angemessenen, sorgfältigen Prüfung nicht damit zu
rechnen, dass eine unverhältnismäßig große Zahl von Zivilisten getrof-
fen wird, wenn ein militärisches Ziel angegriffen wird, kann ein
Kommandeur kriegsvölkerrechtskonform handeln, selbst wenn ex post
sich herausstellt, dass eine übergroße Zahl von Zivilisten getötet wurde.
Betrachtet man die kriegsvölkerrechtlichen Vorgaben zusammen-
fassend, zeigt sich daher, dass in Afghanistan nach dem anwendbaren
Völkerrecht für nicht-internationale bewaffnete Konflikte militärische
Ziele durch Bundeswehrtruppen angegriffen werden dürfen; das glei-
che gilt für Personen die funktionaler Teil der gegnerischen organisier-
ten bewaffneten Gruppen sind und für sogenannte offensive Zivilisten,
die aktiv an Feindseligkeiten teilnehmen. Angriffe auf militärische
Ziele oder die genannten Personen müssen (nur) unterbleiben, wenn
ex ante betrachtet mit unverhältnismäßigen Schäden für Zivilisten
oder zivile Objekte zu rechnen ist.

D. Die Anwendbarkeit der internationalen

Menschenrechte und die Grenzen für bewaffnete Einsätze
von Bundeswehrtruppen

Grundsätzlich wird heute nicht mehr bestritten, dass – wie auch der
IGH bereits 1996 feststellte47 – internationale Menschenrechte wäh-
rend eines bewaffneten Konfliktes für die Vertragsparteien fortgelten.
Anderes würde ihrer Struktur und ihrer Bedeutung als Positivierung
fundamentaler Rechte widersprechen. Immer noch ungeklärt ist

(Nr. 5 der Erklärung der Bundesrepublik Deutschland vom 14. Februar 1991,
Declarations and Reservations of the States Parties to the Protocol Additional to the
Geneva Conventions of 12 August 1949, and relating to the Protection of Victims of
International Armed Conflicts (Protocol I), verfügbar unter http://www.icrc.org/ihl
.nsf/WebSign?ReadForm&id=470&ps=P).
47
IGH, Advisory Opinion on the Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons,
ICJ Reports 1996, 226. Zu den divergierenden Staatenäußerungen in dieser Frage vor
dem IGH vor der Erstellung des Gutachtens, vgl. jedoch S. Vöneky, Die Fortgeltung des
Umweltvölkerrechts in internationalen bewaffneten Konflikten, 156 ff. (2001). Vgl.
auch IGH, Israeli Wall Advisory Opinion, ICJ Reports 2004, 136 und insgesamt jüngst
R. Kolb, Human Rights and Humanitarian Law (Oktober 2010), in: Wolfrum (Fn. 21);
H.-J. Heintze, Theorien zum Verhältnis von Menschenrechten und humanitärem
Völkerrecht, 24 Humanitäres Völkerrecht – Informationsschriften 4 (2011), dort näher
zu der sog. Komplementaritätstheorie, 7 ff.
 das ende der unschuld?1321

jedoch, ob die Menschenrechtsverträge die Bundesrepublik außer-

halb des Staatsgebietes der Bundesrepublik auch gegenüber Nicht-
Deutschen binden.
Nach Art. 2 Internationaler Pakt für bürgerliche und politische
Rechte (IPbpR)48 und Art. 1 Europäische Menschenrechtskonvention
(EMRK),49 bei denen jeweils auch die Bundesrepublik Vertragspartei
ist, ist dafür eine notwendige Bedingung, dass die Personen zumindest
der Hoheitsgewalt (jurisdiction) der Bundesrepublik unterstehen. Es
gibt immer noch jedoch keine einhellige Ansicht, in welchen Fällen
Hoheitsgewalt im Ausland ausgeübt wird. Zum Teil wird in Anlehnung
an die Bancovic-Entscheidung50 des Europäischen Gerichtshofes für
Menschenrechte vertreten, dass Hoheitsgewalt von einem Staat nicht
ausgeübt wird, wenn dieser nur durch Luftangriffe faktische Gewalt auf
dem Gebiet einer Nicht-Vertragspartei anwendet. Gegen eine solche
enge Auslegung spricht jedoch, dass diese dem Ziel und Zweck der
Menschenrechtsverträge widerspricht, Abwehrrechte denjenigen zu
geben, die nachteilig von Staatsgewalt betroffen sind. Betrachtet man
diese Abwehrfunktion, so müssen tatsächliche Beeinträchtigungen
ebensolche Relevanz besitzen, wie finale, belastende Rechtsakte; dies
zumindest, wenn es um unmittelbare, faktische Beeinträchtigungen
geht über die ein Staat die volle und effektive Kontrolle ausübt:51 Gerade
bei einem Waffeneinsatz besteht die große Gefahr, durch staatliches
Tun willkürlich seines Menschenrechts auf Leben beraubt zu werden.
Für Fälle einer Internierung in Besatzungssituationen hat dies der
EGMR in der Entscheidung Al-Saadoon and Mufdhi v. UK im Juni
2009 anerkannt.
Noch nicht geklärt ist zudem das konkrete Verhältnis von
Kriegsvölkerrecht und internationalen Menschenrechten, im vorlie-
genden Fall also, ob das Menschenrecht auf Leben, wie es im IPbpR
(Art. 6) und der EMRK (Art. 2) verankert ist, die kriegsvölkerrechtli-
chen Normen modifiziert und die kriegsvölkerrechtlichen Standards
verändert. Dies wird teilweise mit dem Argument verneint,

48
BGBl. 1973 II, 1534; 999 UNTS 171.
49
BGBl. 2002 II, 1055; 213 UNTS 221, letzte Änderung CETS No. 194, BGBl. 2006
II, 138.
50
EGMR, Bankovic v. Belgien, Urteil vom 12. Dezember 2001, Application Nr.
52207/99.
51
J. Isensee, in: ders./P. Kirchhof, Handbuch des Staatsrecht, Bd. V, § 115, Rn. 90
(2. Aufl. 2000); differenzierend: M. Heintzen, in: D. Merten/H.-J. Papier, Handbuch
der Grundrechte, Bd. II, § 50, Rn. 31, 34.
1322 silja vöneky

Kriegsvölkerrecht sei in bewaffneten Konflikten lex specialis.52 Dagegen

spricht jedoch, dass eine generelle Spezialität nicht angenommen
werden kann:53 Zu denken ist beispielsweise an das Menschenrecht
auf ein faires Verfahren (Art. 14 IPbpR, Art. 6 EMRK): Dieses
Menschenrecht ergänzt das Kriegsvölkerrecht inhaltlich, da letzteres
insoweit lückenhaft ist. Dennoch können im Ergebnis die nach dem
Kriegsvölkerrecht erlaubten Tötungen von Kombattanten oder offensi-
ven Zivilisten nicht Verletzungen des Menschenrechts auf Leben dar-
stellen. Vielmehr sind diese Eingriffe in das Lebensrecht gerechtfertigt,
da das Kriegsvölkerrecht, nach seinem Sinn und Zweck, die Grenzen
zwar nicht aller Menschenrechte, aber doch zulässiger Tötungen im
bewaffneten Konflikt abschließend bestimmt.
Der Vorteil der Anwendbarkeit der Menschenrechtsverträge ist
daher primär prozeduraler Art. So wäre vor dem Europäischen
Gerichtshof für Menschenrechte die Beschwerde eines afghani-
schen Staatsangehörigen gegen die Bundesrepublik wegen kriegsvöl-
kerrechtswidriger Handlungen nach meiner Ansicht zulässig. Dies
wäre der Fall, da das Verhalten der deutschen Truppen trotz des
UN-Mandates weiterhin auch Deutschland und nicht ausschließlich
den Vereinten Nationen zugerechnet werden könnte.54 Diese Ansicht
widerspricht zwar der Behrami/Saramati Entscheidung des EGMR von
2007,55 die von der Unzulässigkeit der Beschwerde in UN-mandatierten
Fällen ausgeht. Ohne die Argumente für und wider dieser nicht über-
zeugenden Rechtsprechung im Detail ausführen zu können, spricht
gegen die Unzulässigkeit, dass damit die tatsächliche bestehende effek-
tive deutsche Kontrolle über die Truppen und einzelne Maßnahmen
unbeachtet bliebe. Ferner bleibt unbeachtet, dass selbst mit einer
Zurechnung zu den Vereinten Nationen eine daneben weiterhin beste-
hende Zurechnung zu den truppenstellenden Staaten nicht ausge-
schlossen ist. Schließlich kann eine Zurechnung zu den Vereinten
Nationen jedenfalls dann nicht gegeben sein, wenn das Handeln der
deutschen Streitkräfte ultra vires war, was grundsätzlich – und auch

52
Vgl. die Nachweise in Vöneky (Fn. 47), 348 ff.
53
Ausführlich Vöneky (Fn. 47), 348 ff.
54
Vgl. statt anderer K. Ipsen, Völkerrecht, § 40 Rn. 20 ff. (5. Aufl. 2004) sowie allge-
mein K. Schmalenbach, Die Haftung Internationaler Organisationen im Rahmen von
friedenssichernden Maßnahmen und Territorialverwaltungen (2004).
55
EGMR, Behrami v. France, Urteil vom 2. Mai 2007, Application No. 71412/01 und
EGMR, Saramati v. France, Germany and Norway, Urteil vom 2. Mai 2007, Application
No. 78166/01.
 das ende der unschuld?1323

konkret im Rahmen der ISAF – für menschenrechtswidrige Aktionen

anzunehmen ist.56
Neben dem Kriegsvölkerrecht binden daher auch die internationa-
len Menschenrechte die Parteien in bewaffneten Konflikten, wie in
Afghanistan die Bundeswehr, auch außerhalb des eigenen Staatsgebietes
und auch für nur faktische Waffeneinsätze. Allerdings wird das in den
internationalen Menschenrechtsverträgen verankerte Recht auf Leben
nur verletzt, sofern und solange in einem bewaffneten Konflikt die
Tötungen dem Kriegsvölkerrecht widersprechen. Dies bedeutet jedoch,
und dies gilt es als Konsequenz zu beachten, dass auch die menschen-
rechtlichen Bindungen einer Tötung auch unbeteiligter Zivilisten im
Falle eines bewaffneten Konfliktes im Rahmen eines Angriffs auf ein
legitimes militärisches Ziel nicht per se entgegenstehen.

E. Fragen der Geltung der deutschen Grundrechte bei

Auslandseinsätzen der Bundeswehr

Ausgangspunkt der Überlegung muss sein, dass die Bundeswehr Teil

der vollziehenden Gewalt ist und damit nach Art. 1 (3) Grundgesetz
(GG) an die im Grundgesetz nachfolgenden Grundrechte als unmittel-
bar geltendes Recht gebunden ist.57 Für die Erstreckung über das Gebiet
der Bundesrepublik hinaus spricht die gleiche Gefährdungslage, die
mit einem entsprechenden Schutz korrelieren muss: Auch gegenüber
dem Ausländer im Ausland tritt die Bundesrepublik dem Betroffenen
wie im Inland als Hoheitsträger gegenüber.58 Soll die Bundeswehr sich
danach aber in keinem Fall ihrer Bindung an die Grundrechte entzie-
hen, müssen – analog wie bei Inlandssachverhalten – , faktische, zure-
chenbare, auch unbeabsichtigte Beeinträchtigungen der Grundrechte
Eingriffe darstellen. Dies gilt auch, wenn die Bundeswehr auf Grundlage

56
 K.M. Larsen, Attribution of Conduct in Peace Operations: The ‘Ultimate
Authority and Control’ Test, 19 European Journal of International Law 509, 521 (2008).
Vgl. auch A. Angelini, Behrami and Saramati, in: F. Fontanelli, Shaping law through
international dialogue, 275 (2010); M. Milanovic/T. Papić, As bad as it gets, 58
International and Comparative Law Quarterly 267 (2009); K.W. Watson, Behrami
v. France, 16 Tulane Journal of International and Comparative Law 575 (2007/2008);
H. Krieger, A credibility gap, 13 Journal of International Peacekeeping 159 (2009).
57
Seit der Änderung des Grundgesetzes 1956 wird nicht mehr die „Verwaltung“ in
Art. 1 (3) GG genannt, da klargestellt werden sollte, dass eine Grundrechtsbindung
auch der Streitkräfte gegeben ist, vgl. C. Starck, in: H.v. Mangoldt/F. Klein/C. Starck,
Kommentar zum Grundgesetz, Art. 1, Rn. 227
58
BVerfGE 6, 290, 295; BVerfGE 57, 9, 23; J. Isensee (Fn. 51).
1324 silja vöneky

eines UN-Mandats eingesetzt ist, denn sofern und solange Maßnahmen

auf der Grundlage eines deutschen Kommandos stattfinden, ist dies
Deutschland zurechenbare vollziehende Gewalt.
Zweifelhaft kann daher nicht die grenzüberschreitende Geltung
der Grundrechte sein; problematisch erscheint jedoch eine dem
Völkerrecht widersprechende Durchsetzung in auslandsbezogenen
Sachverhalten.59 Hierfür ist zu bedenken, dass das Grundgesetz mit
Art. 24 (2) GG auch zu der Beteiligung der Bundeswehr an
Auslandseinsätzen im Rahmen von Systemen kollektiver Sicherheit
ermächtigt. Aus dieser grundsätzlichen Zulässigkeit von bewaffneten
Auslandseinsätzen folgt auch implizit die Befugnis, Kriegshandlungen
und auch Tötungshandlungen vorzunehmen, die in Übereinstimmung
mit dem geltenden Kriegsvölkerrecht stehen.60 Dies gilt erst recht,
da nach Art. 25 GG die gewohnheitsrechtlich geltenden Regeln des
Völkerrechts, eben auch des Kriegsvölkerrechts, unmittelbar in
Deutschland geltendes Recht darstellen. Danach muss gelten, dass
Eingriffe in das Recht auf Leben, verankert in Art. 2 (2) S. 1 GG, in
bewaffneten Konflikten gerechtfertigt sind, sofern diese völkerrechts-
konform sind. Dies bedeutet aber in letzter Konsequenz, dass die
Tötung unbeteiligter Zivilisten im Rahmen eines bewaffneten Kon­
fliktes auch verfassungsrechtlich zulässig ist, sofern sie kriegvölker-
rechtskonform ist.61 Daran ändert sich auch nichts, wenn man das
Urteil des Bundesverfassungsgerichts zum Luftsicherheitsgesetz in
den Blick nimmt.62 Danach ist, verkürzt gesprochen, der Abschuss
eines entführten, zivilen Luftfahrzeuges grundrechtswidrig auch
mit Blick auf Art. 1 (1) GG, also den Schutz der Menschenwürde,
weil das Leben Unschuldiger geopfert wird und diese damit verobjek-
tiviert werden.63 Das Gericht unterscheidet jedoch ausdrücklich in
dieser Entscheidung zwischen kriegerischen und nicht-kriegerischen
Situationen und beschränkt sich auf letztere.64 Diese Differenzierung

59
Vgl. BVerfGE 100, 313, 362 f.
60
A. Zimmermann/R. Geiß, Die Tötung unbeteiligter Zivilisten, 46 Der Staat 377,
383 (2007).
61
Id., 385. Vgl. auch das BVerfGE 77, 170, 221, sofern die Handlungen zum Zweck
der Landesverteidigung vorgenommen wird.
62
BVerfGE 115, 118, 153 f., 158.
63
Vgl. S. Vöneky, Recht, Moral und Ethik – Grundlagen und Grenzen demokrati-
scher Legitimation für Ethikgremien, 111 (2010).
64
BVerfGE 119, 124.
 das ende der unschuld?1325

des Bundesverfassungsgerichts zwischen kriegerischen und nicht-

kriegerischen Situationen beruht – entgegen anderer Ansichten, insbe-
sondere auch der völkerrechtlichen Stimmen in der Literatur – auf
guten Gründen: Betrachtet man die Rechtsprechung des Bundesver­
fassungsgerichts zur Menschenwürde und auch die Bedeutung der
Menschenwürde im Grundgesetz der Bundesrepublik,65 war für das
Gericht für Inlandssachverhalte in nicht bewaffneten Konflikten
keine andere Entscheidung kohärent vertretbar. Insbesondere war
keine – wie in der Literatur vorgeschlagene – enge Auslegung der
Menschenwürde möglich, die sich auf ein Verbot verächtlicher
Behandlung der Opfer beschränkt und einen Abschuss zugelassen
hätte.66 Dennoch kann man bei Sachverhalten, die, anders als die
genannte Bundesverfassungsgerichtsentscheidung, einen bewaffneten
Konflikt betreffen und völkerrechtlich dem Kriegsvölkerrecht unterfal-
len, eine Schutzbereichsverengung der Menschenwürde vertreten,
wonach die Menschenwürde nicht verletzt ist, solange kriegsvölker-
rechtskonform zwar mit zivilen Opfern gerechnet wird, aber nicht
unverhältnismäßig viele zivile Opfer zu erwarten sind. Das internatio-
nale humanitäre Recht erscheint bei diesen Auslandssachverhalten
als gerechtfertigter Maßstab für die Anforderungen des nationalen
Rechts auch mit Blick auf Art. 1 (1) GG. Zu demselben Ergebnis
kommen diejenigen, die über die Anknüpfung von Art. 25 GG
vertreten, dass extraterritorial nur die Menschenrechte im Sinne
der Internationalen Pakte die Bundesrepublik binden:67 Da die
Menschenwürde in den internationalen Pakten keine solch umfas-
sende, absolute Verankerung hat wie im Grundgesetz in Art. 1 (1)
GG,68 steht sie völkerrechtlich der Inkaufnahme gewisser ziviler Opfer
nicht grundsätzlich entgegen. Dieses Ergebnis entspricht auch dem
Ansatz des Bundesverfassungsgerichts, wonach eine verringerte
Grundrechtsposition im Ausland durch Vorteile der internationalen
Kooperation ausgeglichen wird.69

65
Vgl. Vöneky (Fn. 63), 109 ff. und insb. 111, Fn. 86 (2010).
66
So aber Zimmermann/Geiß (Fn. 60), 391 f.
67
F. Schorkopf, Grundgesetz und Überstaatlichkeit – Konflikt und Harmonie in
den auswärtigen Beziehungen Deutschlands, 168 (2007).
68
Zu der Reichweite des völkerrechtlichen Menschenwürdeschutzes vgl.
R. Wolfrum/S. Vöneky, Who is protected by Human Rights Conventions? Protection
of the Embryo vs. Scientific Freedom and Public Health, in: S. Vöneky/R. Wolfrum
(Hrsg.), Human Dignity and Human Cloning, 133 ff., 136 ff. (2004).
69
Vgl. dazu Schorkopf (Fn. 67), 125.
1326 silja vöneky

F. Fazit

Auch wenn oft vertreten wird, dass eine Bekämpfung von irregulären
bewaffneten Gruppen innerhalb eines Staates, also die Bekämpfung
von Aufständischen neue, asymmetrische Kriege seien und daher die
Regeln des herkömmlichen Völkerrechts nicht oder nicht sinnvoll
anwendbar seien, ist dies nicht der Fall: Das Kriegsvölkerrecht findet
auch Anwendung in nicht-internationalen bewaffneten Konflikten,
wenn mithin einzelne Gruppen die Regierung eines Staates mit
Waffengewalt bekämpfen. Das Kriegsvölkerrecht setzt in diesen
Fällen zwar nicht weitreichende, aber doch Mindestgrenzen in
Kampfsituationen, insbesondere dürfen Zivilisten und zivile Objekte
nicht angegriffen werden. Auch die internationalen Menschenrechte
gelten in diesen Konflikten; es können jedoch aus dem Recht auf Leben
im Ergebnis keine über das Kriegsvölkerrecht hinausgehenden materi-
ellen Grenzen abgeleitet werden. Zudem setzt auch das völkerrechtli-
che Verbot zwischenstaatlicher Gewaltanwendung entscheidende
Grenzen. Nur in begrenzten Fällen, wenn der Sicherheitsrat eine
Bedrohung des Friedens nach Kapitel VII SVN feststellt, oder nach den
gewohnheitsrechtlichen Regeln der Intervention auf Einladung, kann
Staaten in rechtmäßiger Weise auch militärische Hilfe geleistet werden,
wenn sie nicht selbst in der Lage dazu sind, Aufständische zu bekämp-
fen. Die sogenannten neuen Kriege verlangen daher kein neues
Völkerrecht.
Die New York Times schrieb im Oktober 2009 mit Blick auf die deut-
schen Truppen in Afghanistan: „The Germans may not have gone to
war, but now the war has come to them.“70 Wenn der Bundestag das
Einsatzmandat der Bundeswehrtruppen in Afghanistan verlängert
oder ähnliche Einsätze bewilligt, die insbesondere den Regeln des
Kriegsvölkerrechts unterfallen, sollte sich das Parlament bewusst sein,
dass auch die internationalen menschenrechtlichen Grenzen solcher
militärischer Einsätze weit weniger streng sind, als dies Vielen im
Inland mit einem Blick auf Art. 1 (1) GG und die Unverletzlichkeit der
Menschenwürde zunächst erscheint.

70
N. Kulish, German Limits on War Face Afghan Reality, New York Times,
26. Oktober 2009, verfügbar unter http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/27/world/
27germany.html.
 Hybrid Peacekeeping: Is UNAMID a New Model for
Cooperation between the United Nations and
Regional Organizations?

Christian Walter

Rüdiger Wolfrum has been involved with the Sudan peace process
for almost a decade in both its national and international dimensions.
In 2002 the Max Planck Institute for Comparative Public Law and
International Law started its first initiative in providing for a neutral
forum in order to enable a dialogue between the parties to the civil war
in Sudan. Eight years later, in February 2010, the Institute submitted
what has become known as the “Heidelberg Darfur Dialogue Outcome
Document”, a document containing draft proposals for consideration
in a future Darfur Peace Agreement.1 Irrespective of whether one
shares more optimistic or more pessimistic prognoses as to the possi-
bilities of coming to a lasting peace in the Darfur region, the joint elab-
oration of the Outcome Document with the participation of all relevant
ethnic, social and political groups in Darfur in itself constitutes a major
achievement which was deservedly praised by UN Secretary-General
Ban Ki-Moon.2
While the Heidelberg Darfur Dialogue and other initiatives aiming
at mediation and conciliation were going on, the United Nations (UN)
and the African Union (AU) were involved in a number of peacekeep-
ing activities which culminated in the establishment of UNAMID, the
first joint, or as it has become known “hybrid”, peacekeeping mission
between the United Nations and a regional organization. UNAMID,
which has been described by the UN Secretary-General as an “unprec-
edented undertaking”,3 needs to be analysed in the general context of
the relationship between regional organizations and the United Nations
and in the light of the development of peacekeeping operations.

1
The document is available at http://www.mpil.de/ww/en/pub/research/details/
know_transfer/sudan_peace_project/die_projekte/heidelberg_darfur_dialog.cfm.
2
UN Doc. SG/SM/12897 of 19 May 2010: “Secretary-General Hails Civil Society
Commitment to Heidelberg Darfur Dialogue”; available at http://www.un.org/News/
Press/docs/2010/sgsm12897.doc.htm.
3
UN Doc. S/2007/307/Rev.1, para. 127.
1328 christian walter

The relationship between the UN and regional organizations has

been evolving in recent years. This is particularly true regarding the
African continent. Also, international peacekeeping has undergone
considerable changes, notably with the concept of “robust peacekeep-
ing” having emerged during the crisis in the former Yugoslavia.4 The
following analysis starts with an outline of the general concept of
the UN Charter concerning the contribution of regional organizations
to the maintenance of international peace and security (A.). It then
sheds light on the regional developments in Africa in the context of
the AU (B.) in order to analyse the establishment of UNAMID in this
context (C.). The final part of the contribution is devoted to an assess-
ment of the advantages and disadvantages of hybrid missions in order
to answer the question whether or not they may be seen as a future
model in the cooperation between the United Nations and regional
organizations (D.).

A. The General Framework of Chapter VIII UN Charter:

Old and New Tensions between Universalism
and Regionalism

The balance between regionalism and universalism in Chapter VIII

UN Charter is the result of a compromise between universalist and
regionalist approaches to the maintenance of international peace and
security. The antagonism between regionalism and universalism has
never been completely overcome. The tensions which led to this com-
promise in part persist today; in part they have withered or been
replaced by new potential for divergence.

I. The Original Tension

The original tension between the two approaches is visible in the provi-
sions dealing with the peaceful settlement of international disputes,
where the role of the Security Council during ongoing regional attempts
at settlement is not entirely clear.5 Politically the–then–four powers at

4
 For the development of International Peacekeeping see M. Bothe, Peace-keeping,
in: B. Simma (ed.), The Charter of the United Nations–A Commentary, 648, mn. 1 et
seq. (2002).
5
 For details see C. Walter, Regional Arrangements and the UN Charter, MPEPIL,
paras. 10 et seq.
 hybrid peacekeeping1329

the Dumbarton Oaks Conference favoured a universalist approach

which, given the pivotal role of the Security Council in the system
established by the Charter, would have further increased their influ-
ence in world politics. By contrast, the San Francisco Conference with
its much broader participation of 50 states strengthened the role of
regional mechanisms.6
Politically, there will always be arguments in both directions.
Regional organizations are closer to the crisis in question, they are
more familiar with the relevant actors and may thus have a deeper
insight into the conflicts and their roots. Furthermore, the influence of
powerful members of the Security Council is likely to be reduced. At
the same time, regional organizations may also be dominated by indi-
vidual regional powers. The role of Nigeria within the Economic
Community of West African States (ECOWAS) may be mentioned as
an example. In some organizations the powerful members of the
Security Council exercise their influence on a regional level and thus
without the counterbalance of other global powers. Here, Russia in the
Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS) and the United States in
the Organization of American States (OAS) are examples in point.
Thus, regional organizations are not free from the very disadvantages
with which the United Nations has to cope.
These considerations are even more in point regarding the use of
force. There are, therefore, good reasons why a general requirement of
Security Council authorization is contained in Art. 53, para. 1 UN
Charter. This is in line with the general concept of the UN Charter to
confer the “primary responsibility” for the maintenance of interna-
tional peace and security on the Security Council (Art. 24, para. 1).
Rüdiger Wolfrum belongs to those authors who have rightly stressed
the necessity to subordinate military enforcement measures to the
overall control of the Security Council.7
In sum, the original tension between regionalist and universalist
approaches to international peace and security cannot easily be over-
come. This is true notably when a major regional or global power is
directly or indirectly involved in the conflict. Within the last decade,

6
 W. Hummer/M. Schweitzer, Art. 52, in: B. Simma (ed.), The Charter of the United
Nations–A Commentary, 807, mn. 9 (2002).
7
R. Wolfrum, Der Beitrag regionaler Abmachungen zur Friedenssicherung:
Möglichkeiten und Grenzen, 53 Zeitschrift für ausländisches öffentliches Recht und
Völkerrecht, 576, at 582 (1993).
1330 christian walter

however, there has been a growing tendency to attenuate the tension by

focusing more strongly on cooperation between regional and universal
mechanisms.

II. The Growing Awareness of the Need for Cooperation

Cooperation with regional organizations has been receiving growing
interest since the end of the Cold War. Already the “Agenda for Peace”
presented by Secretary General Boutros Boutros-Ghali in 1992 placed
emphasis on forms of cooperation between the United Nations and
regional organizations.8 Only two years later, in 1994, the General
Assembly adopted a Declaration on the enhancement of cooperation
between the United Nations and regional arrangements or agencies.9
About ten years later the issue was further pushed by all major
UN institutions. The High Level Panel on Threats Challenges and
Change, established by Secretary-General Kofi Annan in September
2003 calls in its report entitled “A More Secure World: Our Shared
Responsibility” for “making fuller and more productive use of the
Chapter VIII provisions of the Charter of the United Nations than has
hitherto been the case”,10 and the report entitled “In Larger Freedom”
which UN Secretary Kofi Annan presented to the World Summit in
2005 stresses the complementary roles of regional organizations and
the UN.11 The World Summit Outcome Document itself demands “pre-
dictable partnerships and arrangements between the United Nations
and regional organizations”, and explicitly refers to the special needs of
Africa in this context.12 Finally, following the World Summit Outcome
Document, the Security Council adopted Resolution 1631 (2005), in
which the basic principles of cooperation with regional organizations
are set out.
The improved focus on complementarity may be illustrated by the
approach which has been voiced in literature and practice as regards
possible forms of authorization under Art. 53, para. 1 UN Charter.
During the Cold War there was one early practical example, which
remains, however, inconclusive. In the practice of the United Nations

 An Agenda for Peace, UN Doc. A/47/277-S/24111 (1992), paras. 60 et seq.

    8

UN Doc. A/RES/49/57 (1994).

    9
10
UN Doc. A/59/565 (2004), paras. 270 et seq.
11
 In Larger Freedom: Towards Development, Security and Human Rights for All,
UN Doc. A/59/2005 (2005), paras. 213 et seq.
12
UN Doc. A/RES/60/1 (2005), para. 93.
 hybrid peacekeeping1331

economic and diplomatic sanctions adopted by the OAS against

the Dominican Republic in 196013 led to the proposal for a Security
Council resolution by the Soviet Union in which the Council would
have “approved” the measures adopted by the OAS.14 However, the
proposal found only little support from other members and was not
adopted.
Within literature the position on ex post or implicit authoriza-
tions was overwhelmingly negative, given the obvious dangers of
such ‘soft’ forms of authorization.15 These considerations are, of course,
still relevant. Hence, in principle, an express and prior authorization
must be required. Nevertheless, other factors also need to be borne
in mind. There may be political reasons for some member states
to avoid explicit consent in the Security Council’s deliberations. The
political option of not consenting expressly may therefore be a valua-
ble tool in avoiding the veto of a permanent member of the Security
Council. This means that other forms of authorization should excep-
tionally be possible. The High Level Panel on Threats, Challenges and
Change expressly acknowledged such exceptional situations when it
considered that “in some urgent situations … authorization may be
sought after [the] operations have commenced”.16 This position of
the High Level panel underlines that, on the part of the United Nations,
the atmosphere of distrust and caution which reigned over the rela-
tionship between the UN and regional organizations during the Cold
War period has been replaced by a spirit of complementarity and
cooperation.

13
The OAS adopted economic and diplomatic sanctions against the Dominican
Republic because it was allegedly involved in an attempt to assassinate the President
of Venezuela, see OAS, Annual Report of the Secretary General to the Council
of the Organization (1960), OAS Official Records, OEA/Ser.D/III.12, at 7 et seq.;
for the decision see Final Act of the Sixth Meeting of Consultation of Ministers
of Foreign Affairs of 21 August 1960, Resolution I, OAS Official Records, OEA/Ser.
C/II.6.
14
UN Doc. S/PV.893 (1960), at 5.
15
G. Ress/J. Bröhmer, Art. 53, in: B. Simma (ed.), The Charter of the United
Nations–A Commentary, 854, mn. 20 (2002); M. Akehurst, Enforcement Action by
Regional Agencies with Special References to the Organization of American States, 42
British Yearbook of International Law 175, at 214 (1967); L. Henkin, International Law
and the Behaviour of Nations, 114 Recueil des Cours, 169, at 261 (1965-I); but see also
J.A. Frowein, Legal Consequences for International Law Enforcement in Case of
Security Council Inaction, in: J. Delbrück (ed.), The Future of International Law
Enforcement. New Scenarios–New Law?, 111, at 119 (1993).
16
UN Doc. A/59/565 (2004), para. 272.
1332 christian walter

B. The African Development: African Union and

African Council of Peace and Security

The AU was founded in 2001 with the deliberate aim of improving

the record of the former Organization of African Unity (OAU) in the
maintenance of international peace and security.17 Among the organs
created by the Constitutive Act of the AU the Assembly, as the “supreme
organ”,18 bears the primary responsibility for peace and security, which
includes notably the right “to intervene in a Member State pursuant to
a decision of the Assembly in respect of grave circumstances, namely
war crimes, genocide and crimes against humanity”.19
In order to make the regional mechanism operable the Protocol
Relating to the Establishment of the Peace and Security Council of the
African Union was adopted on 9 July 2002.20 In principle, the Council
is modelled along the lines of its UN counterpart. It consists of 15
members which are elected by the Assembly.21 The Protocol comple-
ments the right to intervention contained in Art. 4 lit. h) Constitutive
Act with a right to recommend such action by the Peace and Security
Council.22 Furthermore, the Protocol provides for the creation of an
African Standby Force.23
The African regional development must be seen in the light of con-
tinued UN hesitation with regard to taking action in African conflicts.
The incredibly atrocious conflicts in Ruanda and Burundi in the mid-
1990s are but two prominent examples of a dramatic situation covering
huge parts of the African continent.24 The regional development thus
constitutes a reaction to the hesitant position of the UN.25

17
C.A.A. Packer/D. Rukare, The New African Union and its Constitutive Act,
96 American Journal of International Law, 365, at 367 (2002).
18
 Art. 6, para. 2 Constitutive Act.
19
 Art. 4 lit. h) Constitutive Act.
20
 Available at http://www.africa-union.org/root/au/organs/psc/Protocol_peace
%20and%20security.pdf.
21
 Art. 5 Protocol Relating to the Establishment of the Peace and Security Council of
the African Union.
22
 Art. 7 lit. e) Protocol Relating to the Establishment of the Peace and Security
Council of the African Union.
23
 Art. 13 Protocol Relating to the Establishment of the Peace and Security Council
of the African Union.
24
See A. Abass/M.A. Baderin, Towards Effective Collective Security and Human
Rights Protection in Africa: An Assessment of the Constitutive Act of the New African
Union, Netherlands International Law Review 49, 1, at 4 (2002) who speak of the
African continent as “one huge slaughterhouse”.
25
 L. Juma, Peace-keeping in Africa: Problems and Prospects, 9/3 University of
Botswana Law Journal 3, at 23 (2009).
 hybrid peacekeeping1333

The newly established regional security mechanism was first used in

February 2003 in order to establish an African peacekeeping force in
Burundi (AMIB),26 which was later transformed into a United Nations
mission, called ONUB.27 A look at the Secretary-General’s report pre-
ceding the establishment reveals that UN involvement was to a consid-
erable part due to severe shortcomings in the resources of AMIB.28
There does not seem to have been an institutional rivalry between the
regional and the universal levels.
The mechanism was used a second time when, on 19 January 2007,
the AU mission to Somalia (AMISOM) was authorized by the African
Peace and Security Council. Only about a month later, on 20 February
2007 the mission was also endorsed by the UN Security Council.29
In its resolution, the Security Council authorized AMISOM “to take
all necessary measures as appropriate” to carry out its mandate,
which included i.a. “[t]o provide, as appropriate, protection to the
Transitional Federal Institutions to help them carry out their functions
of government, and security for key infrastructure” and “[t]o contrib-
ute, as may be requested and within capabilities, to the creation of
the necessary security conditions for the provision of humanitarian
assistance”.30 As the resolution was adopted under Chapter VII of
the Charter, it can be interpreted as authorizing the use of force if
necessary to achieve the mandate. The mandate just described was
regularly renewed, the last action being resolution 1964 (2010) of 22
December 2010, in which the strength of AMISOM was enlarged from
8,000 to 12,000 troops.
Throughout the whole period of AMISOM’s presence in Somalia
considerable practical problems relating to the number of forces and
equipment persisted. The situation is described as AMISOM troops

26
See T. Murithi, The African Union–Pan-Africanism, Peacebuilding and
Development, Aldershot-Burlington, at 92 et seq. (2005); T. Murithi, The African
Union’s Foray into Peacekeeping: Lessons from the Hybrid Mission in Darfur,
14 Journal of Peace, Conflict and Development, 5 (2009), available at http://www
.peacestudiesjournal.org.uk.
27
SC Res. 1545 of 21 May 2004; ONUB was replaced in 2007 by the United Nations
Integrated Office in Burundi (BINUB), established by SC Res. 1719 of 25 October
2006; for further details see http://www.un.org/en/peacekeeping/missions/past/onub/
index.html.
28
UN Doc. S/2004/210, paras. 61 and 67.
29
SC Res. 1744 of 21 February 2007; the decision of the AU is referred to in the
Security Council resolution; for further details see Murithi, Lessons (note 26), at 8.
30
SC Res. 1744 of 21 February 2007, operating para. 4 lit. b) and lit. d).
1334 christian walter

being “essentially restricted to their barracks and … unable to effectu-

ate any significant transformation in the country in the absence of
political consensus among the warring factions on how to reconstitute
the Somalia”.31 It may be noted in that context that the 2009 report by
the UN Secretary-General states that of the then authorized 8,000
troops only about 4,500 were actually in place, with no further pledges
having been received by the AU.32

C. The Establishment of UNAMID

I. First Phase: Parallel Operations by the AU and the UN

Just as in Burundi and Somalia the conflict in Sudan also brought about
action by the AU and the UN. The story of the conflict in Sudan and
particularly of the dramatic development of the situation in Darfur has
been told many times and need not be repeated here.33 According to
the figures presented on the official UN website of UNAMID up to
300,000 civilians are estimated to have died in the conflict; 2.5 million
people have been displaced from their homes since the conflict started
in 2003.34

31
Murithi, Lessons (note 26), at 9.
32
UN Doc. S/2009/210, para. 17: “In March, AMISOM completed deployment of its
fifth battalion, comprising 850 troops from Uganda. That brought the AMISOM troop
strength to 4,340 troops, or 54 per cent of the mandated strength, composed of three
battalions from Uganda and two battalions from Burundi. The additional battalion
pledged by Burundi has yet to be deployed. On 27 March, the Permanent Mission of
Burundi sent a note verbale to the United Nations Secretariat indicating that the
deployment of the additional battalion will be subject to the participation of other
troop-contributing countries in AMISOM; the transition to a United Nations peace-
keeping operation; the provision of adequate material assistance; and an increase in the
rate of troop reimbursement. The African Union continues to seek offers from troop-
contributing countries for additional capacities to bring the force up to its full man-
dated strength of 8,000 troops. The African Union reports, however, that no firm offers
have been forthcoming. I urge African Union member States to come forward with the
necessary troop pledges.”
33
 For a brief overview see for instance K. Pounds Taber, Bringing Peace to Darfur:
Lessons of the Darfur Peace Agreement, 31 Houston Journal of International Law, 171,
175 ff.
34
See http://www.un.org/en/peacekeeping/missions/unamid/background.shtml.
Other sources speak of higher figures, see for instance P. Radchenko/R. Schütte,
Chancen und Mängel der UNAMID Friedensmission in Darfur: Ein kritischer
Überblick, 1 Genocide Alert Policy Brief (2008), p. 3 speaks of 400,000 civilian casual-
ties (available at http://www.genocide-alert.de/htdocs/contenido/cms/front_content
.php?idcat=41).
 hybrid peacekeeping1335

In June 2004 the African Mission in the Sudan (AMIS) was estab-
lished with the mandate of monitoring and observing the compli-
ance of the parties with the then existing N’Djamena Humanitarian
Ceasefire Agreement,35 and with protecting civilians and securing the
return of refugees and internally displaced persons. At the same time
and following a proposal by the UN Secretary-General,36 the UN
Security Council established the United Nations Advance Mission in
the Sudan (UNAMIS), which was mandated to facilitate contacts with
the parties concerned and to prepare for the introduction of an envis-
aged UN peace support operation.37 The proposal by the Secretary-
General does not mention the parallel AU mission. When the situation
in Darfur deteriorated further during June and July 2004, the Security
Council, acting under Chapter VII of the UN Charter, adopted
Resolution 1556 (2004), in which the Secretary-General was, inter alia,
asked to cooperate closely with the AU mission.38 Thus, as with the
approach in Somalia, in Sudan the Security Council also endorsed the
AU mission by a resolution adopted under Chapter VII of the UN
Charter.
AMIS originally had a very limited military capacity and therefore
could only partially fulfil its mandate.39 When, on 9 January 2005, the
so-called Comprehensive Peace Agreement (CPA) was signed between
the Government of the Sudan and SPLM/A in Nairobi, it became nec-
essary to strengthen the military support. In a report of 31 January
2005 the Secretary-General proposed to deploy a multidimensional
peace support operation, consisting of up to 10,000 military personnel
and an appropriate civilian component, including more than 700 police

35
The N’Djmena Humanitarian Ceasefire Agreement for Darfur was concluded
on 8 April 2004 between the Government of the Sudan, the Sudan People’s Liberation
Movement/Army in Darfur (SPLM/A) and the Justice and Equality Movement
(JEM); the text of the Agreement is available at http://www.darfurinformation.com/
cf_ceasefire_agreement.asp.
36
See UN Doc S/2004/453, paras. 11 et seq.
37
SC Res. 1547 of 11 June 2004.
38
SC Res. 1556 of July 2004, op. para. 16: “[The Security Council e]xpresses its full
support for the African Union-led ceasefire commission and monitoring mission in
Darfur, and requests the Secretary-General to assist the African Union with planning
and assessments for its mission in Darfur, and in accordance with the Joint
Communiqué to prepare to support implementation of a future agreement in Darfur
in close cooperation with the African Union and requests the Secretary-General to
report to the Security Council on progress”.
39
Murithi, Lessons (note 26), at 10; M. Zwanenburg, Regional Organisations and
the Maintenance of International Peace and Security: Three Recent Regional Peace
Operations, 11 Journal of Conflict and Security Law, 483, at 495 (2006).
1336 christian walter

officers.40 The Security Council followed this recommendation in

Resolution 1590 (2005) and transformed UNAMIS into the United
Nations Mission to the Sudan (UNMIS), which was of roughly the size
proposed by the Secretary-General. UNMIS was closely and continu-
ously to liaise and coordinate at all levels with AMIS with a view to
expeditiously reinforcing the effort to foster peace in Darfur.

II. Second Phase: Options for Transition to a Sole UN Operation

Throughout the first five months of 2006 both the AU and the UN were
discussing a possible transition from AMIS to a UN operation.41 On 5
May 2006 the Darfur Peace Agreement (DPA) was signed between the
Government of the Sudan and SPLM/A.42 The agreement has four
major components: power-sharing, wealth-sharing, ceasefire and secu-
rity arrangements, as well as a Darfur–Darfur dialogue and consulta-
tion. The agreement created, as the UN Secretary General put it, “a
myriad of new formidable tasks for the AU Mission, including the
establishment and patrolling of demilitarized zones around camps for
internally displaced persons; the establishment and patrolling of buffer
zones; the patrolling of humanitarian supply routes and nomadic
migration routes; a rapid cycle of investigating and reporting cases of
ceasefire violations; deployment in camps of displaced persons and
areas of civilian control; monitoring of security in those camps; the
protection of women and children; and the provision of training and
capacity-building to the community police.”43 In order to tackle these
new tasks effectively he proposed three options, in which between
15,300 and 18,600 troops might be needed.44

40
UN Doc S/2005/57, para. 28 et seq.
41
See the Statement of the President of the Security Council S/PRST/2006/5 of 3
February 2006: “The Security Council takes note of the 12 January 2006 Communiqué
of the Peace and Security Council (PSC) of the African Union in which the PSC
expressed its support, in principle, for a transition from the African Union Mission in
Sudan to a United Nations operation, and requested the Chairperson of the African
Union’s Commission to initiate consultations with the United Nations and other stake-
holders on this matter. The Security Council therefore requests the Secretary-General
to initiate contingency planning without delay, jointly with the African Union, in close
and continuing consultation with the Security Council, and in cooperation and close
consultation with the parties to the Abuja Peace Talks, including the Government of
National Unity, on a range of options for a possible transition from AMIS to a United
Nations operation.”
42
The full text of the Agreement is available at http://allafrica.com/peaceafrica/
resources/view/00010926.pdf.
43
UN Doc. S/2006/591, para. 29.
44
UN Doc. S/2006/591, paras. 85 et seq.
 hybrid peacekeeping1337

Following the suggestions by the Secretary-General the Security

Council adopted Resolution 1706 (2006) in which it authorized the
strengthening of UNMIS to up to 17,300 military personnel and by an
appropriate civilian component including up to 3,300 civilian police
personnel and up to 16 Formed Police Units. At the same time, it
decided that UNMIS would take over the responsibility from AMIS.
The relevant passage reads:
“[The Security Council r]equests the Secretary-General to consult
jointly with the African Union, in close and continuing consultation
with the parties to the Darfur Peace Agreement, including the Govern­
ment of National Unity, on a plan and timetable for transition from
AMIS to a United Nations operation in Darfur; [the Security Council]
decides that … as part of the process of transition to a United Nations
operation additional capabilities shall be deployed as soon as feasible
and that UNMIS shall take over from AMIS responsibility for support-
ing the implementation of the Darfur Peace Agreement upon the expira-
tion of AMIS’ mandate but in any event no later than 31 December
2006.”45
At the same time, the Security Council “invited” the consent of the
Government in Khartoum to the strengthening of UNMIS and the
deployment of the forces.46 However, the Government refused this con-
sent and, in consequence, UNMIS could not be strengthened as envis-
aged in Resolution 1706 (2006).47

III. Third Phase: The Hybrid Mission as Solution for the Deadlock
It is in this deadlock that the idea of a hybrid mission came into play.
It took practically a year to convince the Sudanese Government to
accept such a solution, which was finally contained in Resolution
1769 (2007) with which the Security Council established UNAMID
on 31 July 2007.48 It is quite clear from the political background that
hybrid peacekeeping is not the result of a conceptual decision by
the UN or the AU. In fact, as is amply evidenced by the develop-
ment throughout 2006, both organizations favoured an approach
which would have given the primary responsibility for the operation to
the UN.

45
SC Res. 1706 of 31 August 2006, op. para. 5.
46
SC Res. 1706 of 31 August 2006, op. para. 1.
47
Murithi, Lessons (note 26), at 12.
48
The process is partly described in UN Doc S/2007/307, Rev. 1, paras. 5 et seq.; see
also Murithi, Lessons (note 26), at 12.
1338 christian walter

When the Sudanese Government had finally consented to the

hybrid mission, further problems arose. According to Resolution
1769 (2006) UNAMID was expected to comprise almost 20,000 per-
sonnel.49 However, as the reports of the Secretary-General in 2008
indicate, UNAMID had great difficulty in finding the required per­
sonnel. As of 30 November 2008 UNAMID had a total strength of
12,482 as compared to the 19,555 envisaged.50 Furthermore, as the
report by the Secretary-General presented in October 2008 indicates,
UNAMID was lacking the cooperation of the Sudanese Government
and became increasingly subject to attacks by bandits and paramilitary
groups.51
The situation became more favourable towards peacekeeping opera-
tions when, on 23 February 2010 in Doha, a Framework Agreement to
Resolve the Conflict in Darfur between the Government of the Sudan
and the Justice and Equality Movement (JEM) was signed.52
Furthermore, in April 2010 UNAMID with 17,157 personnel reached
about 87% of its envisaged strength.53 The latest report of the Secretary-
General of 18 January 2011 indicates that UNAMID is now in a posi-
tion to implement the “robust protection strategy” which was originally
envisaged.54

49
SC Res. 1769 of 31 July 2007, para. 2.
50
UN Doc. S/2008/781, para. 2.
51
UN Doc. S/2008/659: “67. More than a year after the Security Council authorized
the deployment of UNAMID under resolution 1769 (2007), conditions required for an
effective peacekeeping operation remain absent in Darfur. The Government and the
parties continue to pursue a military solution to the conflict, while little progress has
been made in the implementation of the Darfur Peace Agreement. As violence prevails,
the protection of civilians remains a grave concern.…
75. In Darfur, UNAMID has increasingly become the target of banditry and
armed attacks. UNAMID thus faces divergent requirements, that is, to deploy rap-
idly, enabling it to increase its ability to protect civilians and facilitate provision of
humanitarian assistance, while also taking all measures to reduce risk to its own
personnel.”
52
See the evaluation by the Secretary-General in UN Doc. S/2010/213, paras. 2 and
75 et seq.; the text of the agreement is available at http://blogs.ssrc.org/sudan/wp
-content/uploads/2010/02/Doha-Accord.pdf.
53
UN Doc. S/2010/213, para. 64.
54
UN Doc. S/2011/22, para. 85: “UNAMID is taking significant steps to increase
its effectiveness on the ground, including through a robust protection strategy and a
more determined posture in the face of restrictions on freedom of movement. The mis-
sion will make every effort to move forward in spite of impediments to ensure that it
can protect civilians, build confidence and open routes for the free movement of civil-
ians and humanitarian actors. I commend the work of UNAMID staff who are at the
front line, working under difficult conditions, in ensuring the protection of those at
risk.”
 hybrid peacekeeping1339

D. Hybrid Peacekeeping: A Model for the Future?

When and if at all UNAMID can bring about a lasting peace in the
Darfur region remains, of course, an open issue. With the referendum
on the independence of Southern Sudan having effectively taken place
in January 201155 and the conditions on the ground being more favour-
able for UNAMID the prospects may indeed be better than one would
have thought little more than a year ago. However, these positive devel-
opments seem to have taken place irrespective of the specific hybrid
structure of UNAMID. They may be credited to diplomatic efforts
(again) to bring together the different factions; they may also have been
favoured by the military presence of UNAMID. But the hybrid struc-
ture was necessary only in order to achieve the consent of the
Government in Khartoum.
The existing literature is largely critical of the hybrid structure.56
It must be said that the main difficulty in finding adequate resources
for peacekeeping in Africa was also faced by UNAMID.57 Just like ear-
lier “robust” missions, UNAMID was not able to execute its robust
mandate of protecting the civilian population without itself becoming
a target in the conflict.58 It has therefore been said, not without cause,
that UNAMID’s mandate can be described as “being as ambitious as it
is completely unrealistic”.59 Furthermore, the hybrid structure of a
peace-keeping mission creates additional frictional loss, which basi-
cally relates to the operational structures of the mission. For instance
the chains of command may differ and need to be harmonized.60 Also,

55
See the Statement of the President of the Security Council of 9 February 2011,
UN Doc S/PRST/2011/3.
56
Murithi, Lessons (note 26), at 16 et seq.; F. Aboagye, The Hybrid Operation
for Darfur–A Critical Review of the Concept of the Mechanism, ISS Paper 149, August
2007 (available at kms1.isn.ethz.ch/serviceengine/Files/ISN/98937/…/PAPER149PDF
.pdf).
57
See above note 50 and accompanying text; Murithi, Lessons (note 26), at 13.
58
See again the Secretary-General in UN Doc. S/2008/659, para. 74: “UNAMID,
despite its broad mandate for the protection of civilians and assistance to peace
implementation, is not designed to create a sustainable solution to the Darfur crisis.
That is the responsibility of the parties to the conflict. As I have said many times, the
effectiveness of a peacekeeping operation is largely contingent upon the commitment
of the parties to the peace process, without which peacekeepers can be vulnerable
themselves.”
59
R.P. Barnidge, Jr., The United Nations and the African Union: Assessing a
Partnership for Peace in Darfur, 14 Journal of Conflict and Security Law, 93, at 104
(2009).
60
 For an overview of such practical problems see Aboagye (note 56), at 10 et seq.
1340 christian walter

joint political decision-making processes within the political leader-

ship of both organizations and including the major powers will be
required.61
The hybrid structure needs to be evaluated against the background
of existing forms of cooperation in peacekeeping between the United
Nations and regional organizations. Parallel or consecutive missions
have been sent to several conflicts. Especially in situations where robust
missions are required parallel or consecutive missions have the advan-
tage of allowing different roles for the two levels. Since it is inevitable
that the organization which is responsible for the robust mission will
be pulled to some extent into the conflict, it may prove helpful to have
an alternative actor whose neutrality will be less doubted by the par-
ties.62 The robust part may be taken over either by a regional organiza-
tion (the activities of NATO during the Yugoslav crisis are an example
of that kind) or by the UN. In fact, under the conditions prevailing in
Africa it is not unlikely that, for reasons of resources, logistics and
knowledge, the UN may be the robust actor, while the AU keeps it
potential for diplomatic approaches to the problem. In addition to the
disadvantages already mentioned, hybrid peacekeeping also throws
away the chance that the UN and the regional organization in question
may assume different roles in a given conflict. All in all, it must be sum-
marized that the hybrid structure of UNAMID was a specific reaction
to the refusal of the Sudanese Government to accept a robust UN mis-
sion. For that reason, and only for that reason, it was an appropriate
structure for the situation in Darfur. Beyond that, it remains yet to be
proven that hybrid UN/regional missions are a better way of dealing
with the challenges which UN peace-keeping is currently facing63 than
the already existing traditional forms of cooperation.

61
Murithi, Lessons (note 26), at 17.
62
See in that regard the analysis by C. Walter, Vereinte Nationen und
Regionalorganisationen, at 368 et seq. (1995).
63
See in that context the so-called Brahimi-Report (UN Doc. A/55/305-S/
2000/809(2000)) and the related SC Res. 1327 of 13 November 2000; see also Denis
M. Tull, Die Peacekeeping-Krise der Vereinten Nationen – Ein Überblick über die
Debatte, 1 SWP-Studie (2010), available at http://www.swp-berlin.org/fileadmin/
contents/products/studien/2010_S01_tll_ks.pdf.
 International Law and the War on Terrorism

Georg Witschel

A. The Terrorist Threat

Terrorism is new neither as a crime nor as a security threat. It did not

begin with September 11 and it has not ended since then. Rather ter-
rorism is an age-old phenomenon, which however develops and
changes over the years. None of the five continents has been spared this
scourge; many countries have been the theater of the long and tragic
history of terrorism.
Yet we have to realize that September 11 changed the world, even if
many of the world’s most pressing problems remained the same.1
Modern terrorism has grown to an unprecedented extent and magni-
tude. The emergence of what some writers call mega-terrorism2 has
changed some of the basic assumptions on terrorism. Brian Jenkins’
famous analysis that terrorists want a lot of people to watch and listen,
but not a lot of people dead,3 seems nowadays to work the other way
round: the more people dead the more will watch and listen. The lack
of differentiation among terrorist targets (average train or plane pas-
sengers instead of political, economic or military leaders) is also a rea-
son why religiously motivated terrorists are striving to achieve control
over weapons of mass destruction, or at least radiological devices (dirty
bombs).4
Since this article does not discuss the development of terrorism as
such, a brief summary of some main features which are of relevance for
the pertaining legal issues will have to suffice. Contemporary terrorism
is different from earlier forms because of (1) the globalization of terror-
ist movements5 in terms of their transnational ideology, agenda and

1
G. Witschel, The Legacy of September 11, in: G. Suder, (ed.) Terrorism and the
International Business Environment, 9, at 9 (2004).
2
W. Laqueur, Selbstmordattentätter, 31 Europäische Rundschau 123, at 123 (2003).
3
B. Jenkins, International Terrorism. A New Mode of Conflict, in: D. Carlton/
C. Schaerf (eds.), International Terrorism and World Security, 13 (1975).
4
D. Benjamin/S. Simon, The Age of Sacred Terror, at 129, 147 (2002).
5
U. Schneckener, Netzwerke des Terrors, (2002); G. Witschel, The European
Response to International Terrorism, in: H. Gärtner/I. Cuthbertson, European Security
and Transatlantic Relations after 9/11 and the Iraq War, 82 (2005).
1342 georg witschel

membership together with network-style decentralized structures and

(2) the perfection of asymmetric warfare, where the victim is not a tar-
get as such, but rather part of a communication strategy–resulting in
the increased lethality of terrorist attacks, and (3) the fact that internal
and external security have become less clearly separable.

B. The Fight against Terrorism and International Law

I. Challenges, Questions
Dealing with the legal framework for the fight against terrorism raises
numerous legal challenges and questions. This article will deal with
only a limited number of them, mostly relating to matters of the law on
the use of force, international humanitarian law (IHL) and its relation-
ship with Human Rights Law (HRL):
– Is there a right to self-defence, as recognized in Art. 51 of the UN
Charter, against terrorist actors?
– Is the “global war on terrorism” a viable legal concept? Is an armed
conflict with terrorists at all legally possible and how do we deter-
mine whether and where there is such an armed conflict?
– What are the consequences for a state hosting or sponsoring
terrorists?
– What is the relationship between International Humanitarian
Law (IHL) and Human Rights Law (HRL) in the context of fighting
terrorism?
– And, finally, is there enough common ground to establish minimum
safeguards or principles for the treatment of detainees, regardless of
whether or not a situation amounts to an (international or non-
international) armed conflict?

II. Some Preliminary Remarks

Fighting against terrorism, global war on terrorism, combating terror-
ism: all three and many more terms abundantly used in politics and the
media belong to an armed conflict nomenclature. It therefore seems
necessary to underline that many, if not most, terrorist acts, as well as
most activities to prevent and to counter terrorism, should be seen
through a national and international criminal law prism. Even in times
of modern, new, hyper- or mega-terrorism terrorist acts are first of all
 international law and the war on terrorism1343

crimes. They may even qualify as crimes against humanity under Art. 7
para. 1 of the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court.6 And
the pertinent (legal) instruments to prevent and punish such crimes
are to be found first and foremost in national criminal codes and in the
great variety of UN anti-terrorism conventions, stipulating the princi-
ple of either prosecuting or extraditing and thus providing a legal basis
for closer legal co-operation between states to prevent terrorist acts
and punish their perpetrators.7 To put it the other way round, the law
on the use of force and IHL are not the appropriate framework for deal-
ing with each and every act of terrorism or the perpetrators of such
acts. Rather to the contrary this branch of international law is applica-
ble only in specific situations and in specific geographical areas.

C. Self-Defence against Terrorist Acts

I. Armed Attack, Right to Self-defence

The question whether the right to self-defence as recognized in Art. 51
of the United Nations Charter (UNC)8 exists in case of an armed attack
by non-state actors has been the focus of a long and intense discussion.
It seems that not only the German and other Western governments
subscribe to that view, but that there is also widespread recognition in
state practice and considerable support among legal scholars.
Undoubtedly terrorist acts are crimes, and there is a broad network
of UN and other resolutions and conventions dealing with terrorism as
a criminal law matter. However, the qualification of terrorist acts as
criminal acts neither presages nor excludes the possibility of terrorist
acts amounting to an armed attack. Several of the aforementioned
counter-terrorism conventions expressly mention that they do not
affect the rights, obligations and responsibilities of States and individu-
als under international humanitarian law.9 Other relevant Conventions,

6
C. Tomuschat, Der 11. September und seine rechtlichen Konsequenzen,
23 Europäische Grundrechte-Zeitschrift 535, at 536 (2001).
7
Available at http://www.unodc.org/unodc/en/terrorism/conventions.html; see
also J. Frowein, Der Terrorismus als Herausforderung für das Völkerrecht, 62 Zeitschrift
für ausländisches öffentliches Recht und Völkerrecht 879, at 897 (2002).
8
United Nations, Charter of the United Nations, 24 October 1945, 1 UNTS XVI.
9
S. Vöneky, The Fight against Terrorism and the Rules of the Law of Warfare, in:
C. Walter/S. Vöneky/V. Röben/F. Schorkopf, Terrorism as a Challenge for national and
international Law: Security versus Liberty?, 925, at 926 (2004).
1344 georg witschel

in particular the 1999 Bombings Convention, and drafts even give pri-
ority to the laws of armed conflict, as far as the activities of armed
forces during an armed conflict are concerned. Thus terrorist acts can
be both crimes and acts of war.10

II. Decisions of the ICJ

Looking to international jurisdiction it seems that the International
Court of Justice is rather ambiguous in this context: in the Nicaragua v.
United States case11 the Court stated that an armed attack could include
not merely action by regular armed forces across an international bor-
der, but also the sending–on behalf of a state–of armed bands, irregu-
lars etc. In other words, the Court did not address the question whether
activities of terrorist groups not attributable to a state could qualify as
an armed attack. The Court’s advisory opinion in the Wall case12 has
been interpreted by some as a rejection of any notion that an armed
attack may originate from a non-state actor. However, one may regard
this opinion differently, as merely meaning that an armed attack had to
be conducted “from abroad”. In any event, in the Congo v. Uganda case13
the Court seems to have been more open to the concept of non-state
actors conducting an armed attack triggering the right to self-defence
under Article 51 of the UNC. The Court ruled that there is “no need to
respond to the contentions of the Parties as to whether and under
what conditions contemporary international law provides for a right
of self-defense against large scale attacks by irregular forces”. It should
be noted however that the Court referred only to large-scale attacks.
This allows for an interpretation that the Court does not consider
smaller attacks to be armed attacks. An argument for this quantita-
tive distinction may also be found in the Oil Platform Case,14 where

10
International Convention for the Suppression of Terrorist Bombings, GA Res.
164, UN GAOR, 52nd. Sess., Supp. No. 49, at 389, UN Doc. A/52/49 (1998), entered
into force May 23, 2001; Id., at 928–929; C. Walter, Defining Terrorism in National and
International Law, in: C. Walter et al. (note 9), 23, at 40.
11
Military and Paramilitary Activities in and against Nicaragua (Nicaragua v. the
United States of America), ICJ Reports 1986, 14, paras. 93 et seq., 115, 116, 195 et seq.
12
ICJ Advisory Opinion on Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the
Occupied Palestinian Territory, ICJ Reports 2003, 428, para. 139.
13
Armed activities on the territory of the Congo (Democratic Republic of Congo v.
Uganda), ICJ Reports 2005, 168, para. 147; J. Gathii, Armed Activities on the Territory
of the Congo, in: D. Bodansky, International Decisions, 101 American Journal of
International Law 142 (2007).
14
Case Concerning Oil Platforms (Islamic Republic of Iran v. United States of
America), ICJ Reports 2003, 161, paras. 51, 64.
 international law and the war on terrorism1345

the Court took a similar line. The ICJ referred to its Nicaragua decision,
stating that “it is necessary to distinguish ‘the most grave forms of
the use of force (only those constituting an armed attack) from other
less grave forms’”. In this context the ICJ explicitly embraced the defini-
tion enshrined in Art. 3g of the so-called Definition of Aggression
Resolution of the UN General Assembly.15 To distinguish between
armed attacks justifying resort to force in self-defence and less grave
forms, the Court followed the criteria of the scale and effects of the
attacks.16 The Court finds in para. 64 that, “even taken cumulatively,
these incidents do not seem to constitute an armed attack”. Since “these
incidents” included mine laying, a mine hitting a US warship and firing
missiles at commercial ships one might argue that the Court wants
indeed to uphold a high threshold for qualifying acts involving the use
of force as armed attacks.
The jurisdiction of the ICJ may be well understandable against the
backdrop of its function as a UN organ committed to maintaining
international peace and security and as the world court. Lowering the
threshold for what constitutes an armed attack and thus triggering the
right to self-defence could indeed prove very harmful to international
peace and security. Yet it seems that the Court’s jurisdiction is some-
what lagging behind the development of international law in recent
years. This view was also expressed in some dissenting votes and decla-
rations, notably that of Judge Buergenthal in the Wall opinion.17
Buergenthal criticized the Court’s conclusion that Israel had no right
of self-defence against terror attacks emanating from Palestine, arguing
that the UN charter did not make its exercise dependent upon an attack
by another State. Buergenthal referred in this context particularly to
UN Security Council Resolutions 1368 (2001) and 1373 (2001).18 Judge
Higgins made a similar observation in her separate opinion: “There
is…nothing in the text of Art. 51 that thus stipulates that self-defense
is available only when an armed attack is made by a State”. Judge
Kooijmans took a similar line.19

15
GA Res. 3314/XXIX of 14 December 1974.
16
N. Ochoa-Ruiz/E. Salamanca-Aguado, Exploring the Limits of International Law
relating to the Use of Force in Self-Defence, 16 European Journal of International Law
499, at 512 (2005).
17
See supra note 12.
18
SC Res. 1368 of 12 September 2001 and SC Res. 1373 of 28 September 2001.
19
See supra note 12, 1050, 1072; Y. Dinstein, War, Aggression and Self-Defence,
at 204 (2005).
1346 georg witschel

III. Security Council, State Practice

And indeed there are more than just some good arguments for con-
cluding that States do have a right of self-defence against armed attacks
conducted by non-State actors. The UN Security Council has for long
qualified acts of terrorism as threats to international peace and secu-
rity, beginning with SC Res. 731 of 21 January 1992. In this resolution
acts of terrorism were considered to be a threat to international peace
and security without any limitation in time or area, and without attrib-
uting the terrorist act to a specific state or non-state actor.20 Two month
later an air and arms embargo on Libya was adopted, followed by a
considerable number of resolutions and sanctions against governments
not co-operating in the fight against terrorism. SC Res. 1368 of 12
September 2001 added a new dimension, recognizing in the 3rd pre-
amble clause the “inherent right of individual or collective self-defense
in accordance with the Charter”. Admittedly SC Res. 1368 neither
directly authorizes the use of military force nor explicitly invokes an
armed attack as trigger for Art. 51. But in both SC Res. 1368 (2001) and
1373 (2001) the Council invokes the right of self-defence in calling on
the international community to combat terrorism without limiting
their application to terrorist attacks by state actors alone. The same day,
NATO–for the first time in its history–invoked Art. 5 of the North
Atlantic Treaty of 1949, which provides for mutual assistance in case of
an armed attack. Similarly the Foreign Ministers of members of the
1947 Inter-American Treaty of Reciprocal Assistance resolved that the
September 2001 terrorist attacks against the United States were attacks
against all American States. Finally it should not be overlooked that
the right of self-defence continues to be a valid legal basis for Operation
Enduring Freedom, repeatedly recognized and even commended
by Security Council Resolutions in recent years. Looking at the
reactions of the international state community there seemed to be
remarkable consensus21 with Security Council Resolution 1368 and its
interpretation as recognizing a right of self-defence against attacks by
non-state actors. There was also no protest by UN members against
the US-led invasion of Afghanistan in the aftermath of Security

20
G. Witschel/M. Brandes, Die Vereinten Nationen und die Bekämpfung des inter-
nationalen Terrorismus, in: S. Schorlemer, Globale Probleme und Zukunftsaufgaben
der Vereinten Nationen, 1 Sonderhefte Zeitschrift für Politik 23, at 29 (2006).
21
See the protocol of the Security Council meeting on 12 September 2001, UN Doc.
S/PV 4370 (2001).
 international law and the war on terrorism1347

Council Resolutions 1368 and 1373. This lack of protest was not
self-understood. Whilst some previous Security Council Resolutions
had recognized a right of self-defence against non-state actors, mostly
in the context of states tolerating or supporting terrorist activities,22 the
situation was still different in 1986. Only a US and UK veto prevented
the Council from condemning US air raids against Libya, which were
seen by the US as a legitimate response and as self-defence against
state-sponsored acts of terrorism.

IV. Interpretation of Art. 51 UNC

But beyond that, an interpretation of Art. 51 of the UN charter leads to
the same result. Art. 51 does not specify that only a state can undertake
an armed attack. Admittedly, the authors of Art. 51 with all likelihood
had states in mind, since non-state actors did not yet have the capacity
to conduct an action of the size and intensity to reach the level of an
armed attack. The same was probably still true in 1974, when the UN
General Assembly adopted the so-called “definition of aggression reso-
lution”, describing aggression as “the use of armed force by a state
against the sovereignty…of another state”.23 With regard to the neces-
sary scale or size of an attack it seems clear that Sept 11 was tantamount
to that of an (classic interstate) armed attack. The use of civilian airlin-
ers against buildings proved to be as–or even more–lethal as a major air
raid in previous inter state wars. The attack also clearly came from out-
side, since Al Qaida prepared and directed it mostly in and from
Afghanistan.24

V. Cumulation of Events Theory, Immediacy

Obviously not every terrorist act reaches the necessary scale, severity
and intensity to meet the benchmark “comparable to an armed attack
by a state”. Consequently one might argue that a state has to tolerate
smaller attacks, such as bombings, hijackings, missile attacks, or has at
least no right of self-defence against the terrorist organization conduct-
ing those or similar activities. Such a view, however, would not just be

22
E.g. SC Res. 241 of 15 November 1967; see also Frowein (note 7), at 879.
23
GA Res. (note 15), Annex, Art. 1; Tomuschat (note 6), at 540.
24
Dinstein, (note 19), at 205 and Frowein, (note 7), at 889; R. Wolfrum/C. Philipp,
The Status of the Taliban, Their Obligations and Rights under International Law, 6 Max
Planck Yearbook of United Nations Law 559, at 583 et seq. (2002).
1348 georg witschel

highly unrealistic, since no government would simply tolerate repeated

cross-border attacks on its territory and population. It seems also that
there is quite some agreement among practitioners and scholars that a
State might invoke the right to self-defence under certain circum-
stances if there is a series of smaller attacks over a period of time. This
so-called “accumulation of events theory” recognizes a right to self-
defence against a series of attacks which individually may not rise to
the level of an armed attack but which, seen together, indicate a con-
certed pattern of continuing armed activity.25 This theory is supported
by considerable state practice and also allows for somewhat less strict
limits on the immediacy of self-defence. A state which is a victim of
armed activities conducted by a terrorist group must have some time to
explore the terrorist network behind it, so as properly to identify the
perpetrators and infrastructure of such attack.26 The “accumulation of
events theory” allows for the necessary flexibility of the right of self-
defence, calls however for certain balancing elements. Firstly, there is a
strict requirement regarding the notification of measures of self-
defence to the UN Security Council. And secondly the State invoking
self-defence must provide sufficient information and reliable evidence
to prove such a pattern of continuing armed activity attributable to the
same non-state actor.27

D. Self-Defence against terrorists and the role of States

supporting, condoning or not preventing acts of terrorism

I. Relationship between States and Terrorist Actors

Terrorists are non-state actors. States may be victims of armed attacks
conducted by terrorists from outside the victim states’ territory; in

25
 Ochoa-Ruiz (note 16), at 513 referring to the ICJ Oil Platform Case; T. Gazzini,
The Rules on the Use of Force at the Beginning of the XXI Century, 11 Journal of
Conflict and Security Law 319, at 330 (2006); A. Randelzhofer, Art. 51, in: B. Simma,
The Charter of the United Nations, A Commentary, (2nd ed. 2002); R. Grote, Between
Crime Prevention and the Laws of War: Are the Traditional Categories of International
Law Adequate for Assessing the Use of Force against International Terrorism, in:
Walter et al. (note 9), 951, at 964; C. Greenwood, International Law and the United
States Air Operation against Libya, 89 West Virginia Law Review 933, at 933 et seq.
(1987).
26
D. Wiefelspütz, Die Zulässigkeit der Anwendung präemptiver oder präventiver
militärischer Gewalt, 2 Humanitäres Völkerrecht-Informationsschriften 103, at 106
(2006).
27
Gazzini (note 25), at 332.
 international law and the war on terrorism1349

other words, attacks emanating from the territory of another state, but
not necessarily controlled by that other State. Hence the relationship
between terrorists and the State from which they operate is of crucial
importance for resolving the question whether and how the right of
self-defence triggered by a terrorist attack may be exercised in the ter-
ritory of another State.28 Under what circumstances may the victim
State direct its (military) counter-terrorism measures against the other
state controlling or at least supporting those terrorists? And in cases
where the victim State does not “target” the other State, but merely
wants to intervene against a terrorist group acting from the latter State’s
territory, would such intervention be legal? Obviously the involvement
of that other (host, sponsoring or simply unwilling; in the following:
host) State in terrorist activities directed against the victim State is the
key to answering those questions. For clarity and a number of other
purposes29 one should distinguish between two main scenarios, namely
whether or not the terrorist activities are attributable to a State. If the
terrorist activities are attributable to a host state, the victim state may
exercise its right of self-defence against the host state. Hence the ques-
tion arises what level of State involvement is required in order to attrib-
ute the responsibility for terrorist acts to that State.30

II. Attribution of Terrorist Activities to a (Host) State

An attribution seems possible in the following scenarios:
(1) The attribution is quite clear if the terrorists are de jure or de facto
organs of the State. In both cases the State is responsible for the activ-
ities carried out by the terrorists. The victim state may direct its
measures of self-defence against that State.31
(2) Similarly an attribution is possible if the State had effective control of
the terrorist activity.32
(3) If a state is organizing, co-coordinating or planning terrorist activi-
ties, having overall (but not effective) control, an attribution still is

28
Id.
29
E.g. an international armed conflict may exist.
30
Grote (note 23), at 956.
31
Gazzini (note 25), at 333; Art. 8 of the Draft Articles on Responsibility of
States for Internationally Wrongful Acts, ILC Report to the General Assembly,
UN Doc. A/56/10 (2001), at 103 available at http://www.un.org/law/ilc/texts/State
_responsibility/responsibilityfra/htm.
32
Vöneky (note 9), at 933; Military and Paramilitary Activities in and against
Nicaragua, (Nicaragua v. United States), ICJ Reports 1986, 14, 103; UN Doc. (note 29).
1350 georg witschel

possible. Both the ICTY in its Tadic decision and a number of schol-
ars argue in favour of widening the scope of state responsibility for
acts committed by non-state actors to situations of overall control.
However, the ICJ maintains a more restrictive view and requires
effective control.33
(4) More controversial and difficult are situations where the host State
actively supports the terrorists without having effective or overall
control. Without any doubt such State violates its obligations under
international law, breaching its obligation to refrain from encourag-
ing, promoting or supporting terrorist activities against other
States.34 Beyond that there are good arguments for attributing terror-
ist acts to the host State if the host State has actively and materially
supported–e.g. by harbouring, training, providing weapons and
equipment–the terrorists who have carried out terrorist acts against
the victim State. With this logistical support the host State not only
enables the terrorists to perpetrate terrorist acts, but also establishes
a close and specific link with them.35 Art. 16 of the Draft Articles on
State Responsibility also supports such an attribution, probably
reflecting a general principle of international law.36 No State should
evade its responsibilities by using a non-state actor to commit illegal
acts and “hide” behind him with the argument that it lacks direct
control.37
(5) The explicit approval of a terrorist act by the host State may under
certain circumstances also justify an attribution.38
(6) Whether the same is true for mere financial support remains doubt-
ful. On the one hand one may argue that it is contradictory to affirm
the responsibility of a (host) State which directly provides weapons
to terrorists and to deny it if the same State provides the financial

33
Grote (note 25), at 972; Vöneky (note 9), at 933; Tomuschat (note 6), at 536,
541; Application of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime
of Genocide (Bosnia and Herzegovina v. Serbia and Montenegro), ICJ Reports 2007, 43.
34
In its Judgment in the Corfu Channel Case (Albania v. the United Kingdom of
Great Britain and Northern Ireland), ICJ Reports 1949, 4, at 22, the ICJ stipulates an
obligation for every State “not to allow knowingly its territory to be used for acts
contrary to the rights of other States”; Friendly Relations Declaration of 1970, adopted
by the GA with Res. 2625 (XXV) of 24 October 1970; Dinstein (note 19), at 205, 206;
GA Res. (note 15), Art. 3g.
35
Grote (note 25), at 972, 973; Gazzini even uses the notion “adoption”: Gazzini
(note 25), at 333; Wiefelspütz (note 26), at 107; C. Schaller, Das Friedenssicherungsrecht
im Kampf gegen den Terrorismus, SWP Studie, at 15, 16 (2004).
36
UN Doc. (note 31), Art. 16.
37
R. Wolfrum, The Attack of September 11, 2001, the War against the Taliban and
Iraq: Is there a Need to reconsider International Law on the Recourse to Force and the
rules in Armed Conflict?, in: J. Frowein/R. Wolfrum (eds.), 7 Max Planck Yearbook of
United Nations Law 1, at 37 et seq. (2003).
38
Vöneky (note 9), at 36; Grote (note 25), at 974, is more cautious, but both refer to
the ICJ Tehran Hostage Case Concerning United States Diplomatic and Consular Staff in
Teheran (United States v. Iran), ICJ Reports 1980, 3 et seq.
 international law and the war on terrorism1351

resources for the same terrorists to buy the weapons and materials.39
On the other hand there seems to be hardly any (if any at all) State
practice, ICJ jurisdiction or scholarly views which would allow for an
attribution of terrorist acts solely by reason of financial support, and
thus expose the sponsor state to measures of self-defence. Also, the
link between the sponsoring state and the terrorist group is less
direct and intensive.
(7) Mere ideological or immaterial support is a breach of international
obligations, but does not per se suffice for an attribution.

III. State Tolerates Terrorism (Inactive or Unwilling State)

If a State simply tolerates terrorist activities without controlling or
actively supporting them, the attribution of such activities to the host
State seems at least difficult and not supported by sufficient State prac-
tice.40 However, as set out above (II. (4)) a State must not knowingly
permit its territory to be used as a sanctuary for terrorists or armed
bands attacking another State.41 On the contrary, a State must take all
reasonable measures to prevent and repress terrorist activities emanat-
ing from its territory. Both the UN General Assembly and Security
Council have reiterated that obligation consistently.42

IV. State is Willing but Unable to Suppress Terrorist

Activities Emanating from its Territory
Again an attribution seems not to be possible. Whether the host State
is in breach of international law or not is a difficult question. Some
scholars argue that, at least insofar as the State undertakes all possible
efforts (due diligence) to counter terrorism on its territory and prevent
as well as suppress terrorist activities, there is no breach.43 Others main-
tain that even a willing but incapable State bears responsibility for ter-
rorist acts emanating from its territory, since the rules of State
responsibility do not require an element of fault.44

39
Grote (note 25), at 973.
40
Id., at 974 with reference to some authors favouring a more extensive approach.
41
Dinstein (note 19), at 206.
42
GA Res. 49/60 of 9 December 1994; GA Res. 51/210 of 17 December 1996; SC
Res. 748 of 31 March 1992, SC Res. 1054 of 26 April 1996, SC Res. 1373 of 28 September
2001; Witschel/Brandes (note 20), at 19; Wolfrum/Philipp (note 24), at 596.
43
Gazzini (note 25), at 333; M. Lehto, International Responsibility for Terrorist
Acts, at 310 et seq. (2008).
44
See UN Doc. (note 29), Art. 2; Grote (note 25), at 977; Schaller (note 35), at 13;
Dinstein (note 19), at 245, responsibility of the willing but unable State “may be
nominal”.
1352 georg witschel

In conclusion, terrorist activities emanating from a State can be

attributed to that State if the terrorists are acting as de jure or de facto
State organs, if there is effective or at least overall control, and if there
is active, material support. In cases of subsequent explicit approval an
attribution may be possible if additional factors such as the taking over
of control weigh in. Mere financial support, tolerating of terrorist activ-
ities and the lack of ability to counter terrorism do not justify the attri-
bution of a terrorist attack to that State. Nevertheless that State breaches
its obligations under international law.
The next section will deal with the legal consequences, and in par-
ticular with the questions whether and between which parties an armed
conflict may arise and against whom the victim State may direct its
measures of self-defence. In particular, if a terrorist act is not attribut-
able to a (host) State, what is the legal basis for military intervention
against a terrorist group, if that group operates from a State which is
either unwilling or unable to take the necessary measures against those
terrorists?

E. Global War on Terrorism, Armed Conflict, Measures

Directed against States, Intervention against Terrorist
Groups in Other States

I. Global War on Terrorism, Self-Defence, Armed Conflict

The right of self-defence against terrorist acts threatening international
peace and security has been widely recognized in international law.
Yet, this recognition must not be seen as a blanket authorization for
military action anywhere and at any time against all possible terrorist
groups and individuals. The terminology “global war against terror-
ism” may be politically understandable, describing a strong endeavour
to prevent, counter and punish acts of terrorism by using political,
intelligence, police, judicial and, as a last resort, military tools. As a
legal term, however, the notion global war on terrorism is imperfect at
least.45
Recourse to the right of self-defence is subject to the principles of
proportionality and necessity. Therefore it is restricted to what is neces-
sary to repel the attack.46 Consequently it must be directed against the
author of an armed attack and take place in one or more well defined

45
Tomuschat (note 6), at 536; Schaller (note 35), at 7.
46
Randelzhofer (note 25), Art. 51 UN Charter, mn. 42.
 international law and the war on terrorism1353

geographical areas. In fact, the assessment of the legality of self-defence

must be made for each specific situation, time and geographical area,
on a case by case basis.
The same is true for the question whether the situation after a terror-
ist attack has occurred and measures of self-defence have been taken by
the victim State amounts to an armed conflict and whether or not such
conflict is of an international nature. An answer to these questions is
not easy, since the Geneva Conventions and the ICRC commentaries
thereto do not provide an exact definition and relate to armed conflicts
between states. Only recently, in an ICRC opinion paper dated March
2008,47 two definitions were suggested: (1) an International Armed
Conflict exists whenever there is resort to armed force between States;
(2) non-international armed conflicts are protracted armed confronta-
tions occurring between governmental armed forces and the forces of
one or more armed groups, or between such groups arising on the ter-
ritory of a State. This ICRC definition reflects Art. 1 AP II to the Geneva
Conventions,48 which describes a non-international conflict as “a con-
flict taking place in the territory of a contracting party between its
armed forces and dissident armed forces or other organized armed
groups, which … exercise control over a part of its territory”. Mere dis-
turbances and tensions, such as riots or sporadic acts of violence, are
excluded from the scope of an armed conflict. The 1995 Tadic decision
of the International Tribunal on War Crimes in Former Yugoslavia
(ICTY)49 went a bit further and did lower the threshold by not requir-
ing territorial control. The Court recognizes an armed conflict “when-
ever there is a resort to armed force between states or protracted armed
violence between governmental authorities and organized armed
groups or between such groups within a state”. The Rome Statute of
the International Criminal Court, defining in Art. 8 para. 2 lit f war
crimes in a not international armed conflict, strikes a similar chord and
does not refer to territorial control as a necessary element of a non-
international armed conflict.50

47
How is the Term Armed Conflict Defined in International Humanitarian Law?,
ICRC Opinion Paper, March 2008.
48
Art. 1 AP II, Protocol Additional to the Geneva Conventions of 12 August 1949,
and relating to the Protection of Victims of Non-International Armed Conflicts
(Additional Protocol II), of 8 June 1977, 1125 UNTS (1979) 609–699.
49
ICTY, The Prosecutor v. Dusko Tadic, Decision on the Defence Motion
for Interlocutory Appeal on Jurisdiction, Judgement of 2 October 1995, IT-94-1-A,
para. 70.
50
The Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, UN Doc. A/CONF. 183/9;
37 ILM 1002 (1998); 2187 UNTS 90.
1354 georg witschel

After all, whether a situation amounts to an armed conflict and

whether it is an international or non-international armed conflict are
mixed questions of fact and law, the answers to which depend on a
range of factors.51

II. Parties to an Armed Conflict, Measures Directed against a State

In principle, only States and not terrorists can be party to an interna-
tional armed conflict, because international law requires that armed
force must have been used by one subject of international law against
another subject of international law.52 In consequence an international
armed conflict and accordingly the application of the relevant humani-
tarian law is possible only if the use of armed force reaches the neces-
sary level of intensity and is attributable to one or more States other
than the victim State.53

III. Interventions against Terrorist Groups in the Territory

of Another State; Assisting a State to Combat Terrorism on its
Own Territory
Legally somewhat more complicated are situations where a State is
either unwilling or unable to suppress terrorist activities emanating
from its territory, without being responsible for them. It seems obvious
that a victim State does not have to endure terrorist attacks endlessly.54
However, without the consent of the unwilling or unable State (or an
authorization by the UN Security Council under chapter VII of the
UNC) any enforcement or military action undertaken by the victim
State against the terrorists in the territory of the host State would vio-
late the latter’s territorial integrity and the prohibition of the use of
force under Art. 2 para. 4 of the UNC.
Yet, State practice indicates, and a majority of scholars agrees, that
the use of military force against terrorist actors in another State may be
justified, albeit with varying arguments and legal concepts.

51
European Guidelines on Promoting Compliance with International Humanitarian
Law (IHL), DG E IV, 15017/05, at 2.
52
Vöneky (note 9), at 930–932, also referring to the two possible exceptions; Art. 1
para. 4 AP I; C. Schaller, Humanitäres Völkerrecht und nichtstaatliche Gewaltakteure,
SWP Studie, at 16, 17 (2007).
53
Id. (Vöneky); for the attribution of terrorist acts see above D II-IV.
54
C. Tomuschat, Der Sommerkrieg des Jahres 2006 im Nahen Osten, 81 Die
Friedens-Warte 179, at 182 (2006).
 international law and the war on terrorism1355

Some argue that the host State has forfeited its rights under the pro-
hibition of force rule55 and respect of its territorial integrity. Others
argue with the doctrine of State necessity and quote a Declaration
made by the Turkish government when the Turkish military intervened
in Northern Iraq to neutralize terrorist groups there.56 Yet others
assume an obligation of the host State to tolerate the military interven-
tion of the victim State, arguing using principles of responsibility.57
Dinstein and Grote assume the obligation of an unwilling State to con-
sent to the intervention of the victim State. If the host State refuses to
give consent, Dinstein sees a right of the victim State to do what the
host State is internationally obliged (but unwilling or unable) to do, a
kind of “Ersatzvornahme” or extraterritorial law enforcement as a form
of self-defence.58
Most scholars accepting the legal admissibility of such interventions
try to hedge them about with a number of safeguards and limitations in
order to minimize the risk of unwarranted interventions and limit the
damage caused by them. Armed interventions should be restricted to a
small number of legitimate purposes, such as the protection of life,
limb and liberty of nationals. If at all possible victim States should,
before conducting a military intervention, inform the Security Council
and request urgent action by the Council (subsidiarity principle).They
must present substantial evidence not only of (the risk of) threat to
their citizens, but also on the perpetrators of past and possibly immi-
nent attacks. The onus of proving that a terrorist attack or threat of
attack is emanating from a host State lies with the (victim) State which
wants to resort to military action.59 Also the principle of proportional-
ity has to be respected.60
If the host State has consented to the military intervention no
armed conflict between the two States exists. Depending on the level
of hostilities there may be a non-international armed conflict between

55
Tomuschat (note 6), at 541.
56
Gazzini (note 25), at 335; U. Fastenrath, Ein Verteidigungskrieg lässt sich nicht
vorab begrenzen, Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, 12.11.2001, at 12.
57
Schaller (note 35), at 13.
58
Dinstein (note 19), at 245, a kind of substitute action; like Gazzini he refers to the
situation in Northern Iraq, moreover to Israel/Lebanon, US/Mexico 1916 and the
Caroline case at 248; Grote (note 25), at 977.
59
Grote (note 25), 979 et seq.; Schaller (note 35), at 15 “prove beyond a reasonable
doubt”.
60
Tomuschat (note 54), at 183.
1356 georg witschel

the intervening (victim) state and the terrorist non-State actor,

­however.61 Somewhat unclear and disputed is the situation where the
victim State intervenes in the host State, using military force against
the terrorists without targeting or actually destroying facilities of the
host State. Some scholars consider such situations as an international
armed conflict between the victim and the host State;62 others see it as
a situation just short of war.63
In cases such as that of Afghanistan, where other States assist the
host State to combat terrorists on its own territory, a non-international
armed conflict exists–if and as long the level of hostilities is high
enough to distinguish it from mere sporadic violence or riots (see
above E I).

F. The Application of International Humanitarian and

Human Rights Law

I. International Armed Conflict

International Humanitarian Law is applicable to any international
armed conflict, including situations of occupation, irrespective of the
origin of the conflict, i.e. also in those cases where a terrorist act, attrib-
utable to a State, has triggered the right of self-defence and the ensuing
armed conflict. The victim State may use military force against the ter-
rorists and their facilities in the host State. But facilities of the host State
itself, such as army barracks used for the training of terrorists, may also
become legitimate targets.64 The application of IHL provides a suffi-
cient legal basis for dealing with situations involving terrorists, neither
leaving a major protection gap for detainees nor unduly privileging
terrorists.65 Obviously there are a number of possible scenarios and
questions attached to them. Terrorists are–as a rule–not combatants
and the Geneva Conventions and Additional Protocols are not directly
applicable to them. However, at least during the phase of the armed
international conflict in Afghanistan (after September 11 and before

61
Vöneky (note 9), at 943.
62
Id., at 944.
63
Dinstein (note 19), at 245.
64
Grote (note 25), at 974, 975 and Tomuschat (note 6), at 541.
65
Convincingly Vöneky (note 9), at 934 et seq.; Id. (Grote).
 international law and the war on terrorism1357

the Loya Jirga) some Taliban and possibly even Al Qaeda members
may have been organized groups as defined in Art. 43 AP I and thus
may have qualified as combatants and prisoners of war.66 In a nutshell,
there is no need to establish a new legal category of unlawful combat-
ants, because such persons are either combatants or civilians taking
direct part in hostilities, with the consequence that existing interna-
tional law can be applied. As a minimum, the protections contained in
Common Art. 3 GC and Art. 75 AP I, which reflect customary interna-
tional law, apply to all persons detained in an international armed con-
flict irrespective of its character. Yet, even in an international armed
conflict with the Fourth Geneva Convention and Additional Protocol I
applicable, it seems desirable to elaborate further on some (mostly)
procedural rights of detainees.67

II. Non-International Armed Conflict

IHL is also applicable in a non-international armed conflict between a
State and a terrorist group. However the treaty provisions are much less
detailed and extensive than for an international armed conflict. Non-
international armed conflicts are subject to the provisions in Art. 3
common to the Geneva Conventions and, where the State concerned is
a Party, in the 1977 Additional Protocol II.68 Rules of customary law
also apply to a non-international conflict involving a terrorist non-state
actor. Much more often than in an international armed conflict there
may be no specific rule to govern a specific situation. In particular,
there is much less clarity as to how arrest and detention are to be organ-
ized.69 The level of protection provided even by a combination of
Common Article 3 and Art. 75 AP I is fairly rudimentary. Therefore it
seems necessary much more often to look to the rules of either interna-
tional armed conflict or human rights law or both in order to find a
legally sound solution.

66
R. Arnold, Human Rights in Times of Terrorism, 66 Zeitschrift für ausländis-
ches öffentliches Recht und Völkerrecht 297, at 298 (2006); Wolfrum/Philipp (note 24),
at 588.
67
J. Pejic, Procedural principles and safeguards for internment/administrative
detention in armed conflict and other situations of violence, 87 International Review of
the Red Cross, 375, at 377 (2005).
68
European Guidelines (note 51), at 2.
69
Pejic (note 67), at 377.
1358 georg witschel

III. Situations Outside an Armed Conflict: HRL

Outside an armed conflict the fight against terrorism is governed
by different national and international instruments relating to, inter
alia, criminal law enforcement, suppression of acts of terrorism and
mutual legal assistance in criminal matters. Moreover, applicable
human rights law must be complied with. In particular the International
Covenant on Civilian and Political Rights is applicable in respect of
acts done by a state in the exercise of its jurisdiction or effective con-
trol including outside its own territory.70 This is the case, for instance,
when a state exercises effective control over part of the territory of
another state.

IV. The Dilemma

As explained above (V.1), the question whether a situation amounts to
an armed conflict is a mixed question of fact and law the answer to
which depends on a range of factors. Terrorist acts or activities can
have the destructive force of major military operations and thus meet
the intensity threshold of an armed conflict. But the intensity of opera-
tions and parties involved may change over time and area. And accord-
ingly a situation can evolve from one type of armed conflict to another71
and from armed conflict to mere unrest and vice versa. To give an
example, the situation in Afghanistan from the beginning of US mili-
tary operations until the beginning of the Loya Jirga (June 2002) was
considered by most countries and the ICRC to be an international
armed conflict, the situation at least in South Afghanistan today as a
conflict of a non-international nature. However some ISAF partners
interpreted the situation differently, at least for the North of Afghanistan.
It is therefore conceivable that there are various situations in one
country, areas of war and of relative peace, or even different percep-
tions of how to characterize a given situation–as armed conflict or
mere sporadic violence. It goes without saying that such confusion is
detrimental to legal security72 and causes quite intricate problems for
military forces such as ISAF in acting and co-operating. Since it often
seems very hard to decide whether in a given situation IHL or human

70
Advisory Opinion on Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the
Occupied Palestinian Territory, 43 ILM 1009 (2004), para. 139.
71
ICRC opinion paper (note 47), at 1.
72
C. Schaller, Rechtssicherheit im Auslandseinsatz, 67 SWP-Aktuell, at 3 (2009).
 international law and the war on terrorism1359

rights law alone or both together are applicable, a considerable legal

dilemma exists.

G. Practical Ways to Reduce the Dilemma

Finding legally sound, politically acceptable and above all practical

ways to reduce this dilemma seems advisable. The focus of the next sec-
tion is on situations of a non-international armed conflict and on the
treatment of detainees. The reason for this twofold limitation is mainly
practical. Firstly it would require more than this article to deal with all
possible situations; secondly the situation of non-international conflict
may not just in Afghanistan be typical for major military operations
against terrorists in other (overseas) countries; and thirdly the safe-
guarding of rights of detainees requires a kind of “legal interoperabil-
ity” between all the forces involved in fighting terrorists. It seems that
there are promising legal features and forums to help reduce the
dilemma and establish a kind of minimum standard applicable in all
situations with regard to detainees. An attempt to find common ground
and establish minimum standards applicable in situations of interna-
tional and non-international as well as outside an armed conflict seems
audacious, however. The legal framework for war and peace is too dif-
ferent for simple harmonization. Activities which are strictly prohib-
ited in peacetime, such as the premeditated killing of a person outside
self-defence, are principally permitted under the laws of war. Therefore,
the following remarks are limited to the treatment of detainees only,
not to other matters such as the legality of killing people, the employ-
ment of certain weapons etc. This article also does not advocate a new
international treaty, but rather calls for more modest approaches.
Developing common ground between IHL and HRL could help to
elaborate minimum standards (or safeguards, practices or principles),
without addressing the de jure/de facto applicability of either branch of
law. Such standards may be reflected in army manuals, in training, may
be used as pre-fabricated “building blocks” for UN or other instru-
ments, mandating troops to fight against terrorists. They may also be
useful for Status of Forces Agreements and other bi- or multilateral
agreements. Such standards might cover areas such as the necessary
justification for detaining people, the determination of their status,
their treatment including transfer to other states, and possibly review
mechanisms. Obviously such a set of standards could not serve as a
1360 georg witschel

one-size-fits-all instrument. But it would help to adopt a proper and

more uniform legal framework for international military operations
without undue delay. And that would be quite an achievement in
ensuring that the fight against terrorism is conducted in full accord-
ance with international law!
Such endeavour is neither without precedent nor lacking a possible
forum. The so-called Turku Declaration73 provides a good example of
such standards and may be helpful for drafting them. The Copenhagen
Process on the Handling of Detainees in International Military
Operations provides a suitable forum to develop standards for the han-
dling of detainees in military operations, including the conditions for
the transfer of prisoners to the host country or to other countries. This
process, initiated by Denmark in 2007, has not yet been completed, but
involves a number of interested parties and has been reported to the
UN General Assembly.74
Thus it seems that there is some common ground for establishing
such principles, and enough political interest among states to do so.

I. Relationship between IHL and HRL

Defining the relationship between the two areas is not an easy under-
taking. Human Rights Law and IHL are distinct bodies of law and,
while both are principally aimed at protecting individuals, there are
important differences between them.75 Certainly IHL and human
rights are not per se mutually exclusive. Rather, as the ICJ has described
it, there are three possible situations: some rights may be exclusively
matters of international humanitarian law; others may be exclu­
sively matters of human rights law; yet others may be matters for both
these branches of international law.76
The matter is complicated by the fact that states have different
international obligations in the fields of IHL and HRL and different

73
Declaration of Minimum Humanitarian Standards of 1990, revised 1994, circu-
lated as a document of the UN Commission on Human Rights, E/CN.4/1995/116 of
31 January 1995.
74
The Copenhagen Process on the Handling of Detainees in International Military
Operations, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Denmark, Legal Department, December
2007.
75
European Guidelines (note 51), at 2.
76
ICJ Advisory Opinion on Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in
the Occupied Palestinian Territory, ICJ Reports 2003, 428, para. 104 et seq.; Arnold
(note 66), at 302.
 international law and the war on terrorism1361

interpretations of their obligations, for example with regard to the

extraterritorial application of the ICCPR. And although there is a lot of
overlap between the two areas of law, IHL and HRL have different sub-
stantive rules. Even applying IHL as lex specialis in situations of armed
conflict does not make things much easier, because IHL as lex specialis
does not per se exclude the applicability of human rights law in a given
situation. Therefore a case by case analysis is required to determine
whether, in the light of all circumstances, human rights law comple-
ments IHL in a particular situation of armed conflict. Such analysis is
particularly important in cases of a non-international armed conflict,
where the applicable rules of IHL are only rudimentary.

II. Common Ground

Despite being distinct bodies of law, both IHL and HRL are principally
aimed at protecting individuals.77 Some fundamental human rights,
such as the prohibition of torture, find application under all circum-
stances.78 These rights are not only restated in various human rights
treaty instruments, but also based in the four Geneva Con­ventions
of 1949 and the Additional Protocols thereto of 1977.79 When co-
sponsoring Resolution 1995/29 of the UN Human Rights Commission–
which endorsed the so-called Turku Declaration of Minimum
Humanitarian Standards–Germany reaffirmed that the core rights of
the civilian population affected by a conflict must be safeguarded under
any circumstances.80 The Declaration affirms minimum humanitarian
standards which are applicable in all situations, including internal vio-
lence, ethnic, religious and national conflicts, disturbance, tensions,
and public emergency. Thus it also covers situations below the thresh-
old of armed conflict. Its substance draws on both human rights and
humanitarian law.
But the rules of international armed conflict may also help to build
common ground. Bearing in mind the principles of humanity and the

77
European Guidelines (note 51), at 3.
78
Art. 2 of the Convention Against Torture reads: “No exceptional circumstances
whatsoever, whether a state of war or a threat of war, internal political instability or any
other public emergency, may be invoked as a justification of torture”.Convention
against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment,
GA Res. 39/46, [annex, 39 UN GAOR Supp. (No. 51) at 197, UN Doc. A/39/51 (1984)],
entered into force June 26, 1987.
79
Arnold (note 66), at 302, 303.
80
Declaration of Germany, 27 December 1995, E/CN.4/1996/80/Add. 2, at 3.
1362 georg witschel

dictates of public conscience (the Martens clause), the principles and

rules of the Fourth Geneva Convention may, in practice, serve as guid-
ance in non-international armed conflicts in resolving some of the
questions regarding arrest and detention.81
It may also be added that both Additional Protocols to the Geneva
Conventions have expressly recognized the recourse to human rights
law as a legal regime complementary to humanitarian law.82
Therefore it is a very pertinent question to what extent human rights
law may inform the interpretation of IHL, or operate side by side, in
particular where IHL and HRL employ identical or similar terms and
concepts. For the sake of clarity and brevity the only Human Rights
provisions examined here are Art. 6 (Right to Life), Art. 7 (Prohibition
of Torture), Art. 9 (Prohibition of Arbitrary Arrest or Detention), Art.
10 (Humane Treatment of Detainees), Art. 14 (Right to a Fair Trial)
and 26 (Non-discrimination) of the International Covenant on Civil
and Political Rights (ICCPR).83 In a nutshell, one may argue that only
two articles of the ICCPR may be at all relevant to the conduct of oper-
ations and capture in the battlefield in a conflict: Art. 6 Right to Life
and Art. 7, Prohibition of Torture. More ICCPR rights, among them
the provisions mentioned above, may come into play the further a situ-
ation moves from battlefield towards detention, criminal prosecution,
military control and finally long-term occupation of a territory. The
rule of thumb seems to be the further away from the battlefield the
more human rights come into play! The overall picture shows that
there is a lot of overlap between IHL and HRL, providing sufficient
common ground for the elaboration of a common set of standards.
Comparing Art. 6 ICCPR (the right to life) with relevant IHL
provisions (which are leges speciales) shows a significant amount of
overlap between the two bodies of law when it comes to the protection
of the lives of people not taking direct part in hostilities, such as the
prohibition of violence to the lives of all who have ceased to take part
in hostilities (GCI/II, Art. 12; GC III, Art. 13; AP I, Art. 41) and the
obligation to give quarter (AP I, Art. 40; AP II, Art. 4). Also with regard
to detention IHL has overlapping or similar provisions, such as the
prohibition of any unlawful act causing the death of a prisoner of war

81
Pejic (note 67), at 377.
82
Id., at 377, 378 referring i.a. to Art. 72 and 75 AP I, preambular para. 2 of AP II.
83
International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights and International Covenant
on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, A/RES/2200A(XXI) of 16 December 1966.
 international law and the war on terrorism1363

(GC III, Art. 13) or the need to conduct an official inquiry in the event
of the deaths of POW or civilian internees in special circumstances
(GC III, Art. 121; GC IV, Art. 131). With regard to Art. 6 para. 2 ICCPR
(death penalty), Art. 100 and 101 GC III (prosecution) and Art. 68 GC
IV (occupation) come into play. Regarding the right to seek pardon or
commutation of a sentence (Art. 6 para. 4 ICCPR) Art. 106 GC III and
Art. 75 GC 4 provide similar rights for POWs. The same is true for the
prohibition on imposing or carrying out a sentence of death on people
below eighteen years of age or pregnant women: Art. 6 para. 5 ICCPR
and Art. 68 GC IV, Art. 76 AP I, Art. 77 para. 5 AP I and Art. 6 AP II.
Art. 7 ICCPR (Prohibition of Torture etc), non-derogable like Art. 6,
is not just one of the rules which are practically relevant from conduct
of operations (battlefield) to long-term occupation. There is a consider-
able amount of overlap between HRL and IHL on the prohibition of
torture, and to a certain extent on the prohibition of cruel, inhuman or
degrading treatment or punishment. Indeed, Art. 7 ICCPR is very
widely reflected and elaborated on in detail in various IHL rules.
General prohibitions are found inter alia in common Art. 3 of the
GC, Art. 27, 31 and 32 GC IV and Art. 75 AP I, an article containing a
number of fundamental guarantees generally considered to codify cus-
tomary law. Similar fundamental guarantees are stipulated in Art. 4,
AP II. Regarding battlefield capture Art. 12 GCI/II, Art. 13 GC III and
Art. 16 GC IV call for humane treatment of members of armed forces,
POWs, the wounded and sick, the infirm and expectant mothers. In
situations of detention and prosecution Art. 17/GC III, Art. 87 GC III,
Art. 99 GC III prohibit physical or mental torture, collective or corpo-
ral punishment and coercion to induce a POW to admit that he is guilty
of an act of which he is accused. There are also a number of provisions
in IHL prohibiting medical or scientific experimentation without free
consent (Art. 12 GC I/II; Art. 13 GC III; Art. 32 GC IV; Art. 11 AP I
and Art. 5 AP II).
Looking at Art. 9 ICCPR (Freedom from Arbitrary Arrest or
Detention) a number of relevant provisions in IHL come into play.
In general terms and considering IHL as lex specialis, one can argue
that IHL is the body of law which determines whether or not an arrest
or detention in the context of an armed conflict is in fact “arbitrary”.
Under IHL, internment of POWs may last until the cessation of
hostilities, without any further review. On the other hand, with regard
to POW confinement while awaiting trial, IHL is probably stricter
than HRL, in Art. 99 GC III prohibiting confinement lasting longer
1364 georg witschel

than three months. With regard to civilians internment and assigned

residence are allowed in the event of imperative reasons of security
(Art. 78 GC IV), with a number of procedural safeguards. In particular,
for battlefield capture and detention Art. 5, 12, 99 GC III, Art. 41 and
42 GC IV, as well as Art. 75 AP I and Art. 5 AP II are relevant. In a situ-
ation of occupation Art. 5, 68 and 78 GC IV provide for certain sub-
stantive and procedural guarantees. When it comes to detention and
prosecution Art. 105 GC III, Art. 71 GC IV, Art. 75 AP I, Art. 6 AP II
and Art. 103 GC III provide important procedural guarantees, in case
of judicial investigations relating to a POW also of a substantial nature.
An IHL equivalent of the HR notion of “habeas corpus” (Art. 9 para. 4
ICCPR) can, however, only be found in Art. 43, and perhaps Art. 78 of
GC IV. Compared to the ICCPR IHL (GC IV) is more specific on the
frequency of reviewing the case of a protected person under intern-
ment or assignment of residence.
Art. 10 ICCPR provides for humane treatment and respect for the
dignity of all those deprived of their liberty. IHL as lex specialis not only
shows a major amount of overlap, but offers, at least for the situation of
an international armed conflict, a greater amount of specificity with
regard to the proscribed treatment of such people. Again, the rules on
treatment for a non-international armed conflict are much less specific.
In particular, common Art. 3 GC I-IV, Art. 13, 14, 20, 46 GC III, Art.
108 GC II, Art. 37, 76, 100, 127 GC IV, Art. 11 and 75 AP II and Art. 4
and 5 AP II guarantee humane treatment and respect for dignity in
times of war, which are protected in times of peace in Art. 10 para. 1
ICCPR.
The right to a fair trial (Art. 14 ICCPR) is reflected not only in the
fundamental guarantees under Art. 75 AP I, but also in a number of
other IHL provisions. In fact, both IHL and HR contain detailed provi-
sions concerning the right to a fair trial, showing a significant amount
of overlap both in substantive and procedural rules. On the IHL side
common Art. 3 of the GC, Art. 84 GC II, Art. 87 and 105 GC III, Art.
67 and 71 GC IV, and Art. 6 para. 2 AP II regulate in some detail the
rights to a fair and impartial hearing, the requirement of individual
criminal responsibility, the principle of legality, the public pronounce-
ment of a judgment, the presumption of innocence and even the public
nature of the trial (limited in Art. 105 GC III to representatives of the
Protecting Power). With regard to prompt information on charges,
adequate time and facilities for the defence, the right to be tried with-
out undue delay and other procedural rights including the one to an
 international law and the war on terrorism1365

appeal, Art. 99, 103, 105 GC III, Art. 71–73 GC IV as well as Art. 6 AP
II supplement the fundamental guarantees set out in Art. 75 AP I.
Finally looking at Art. 26 ICCPR, the principle of non-
discrimination, one finds that quite similar grounds are offered by both
branches of international law, prohibiting treatment based on adverse
distinction. Common Art. 3 of GC I-IV, Art. 16 GC III, Art. 13 and Art.
27 GC IV, Art. 75 AP I as well as Art. 2 and 4 AP II aim to prevent
adverse distinctions founded on race, colour, sex, language, religion or
belief, opinion or a number of other criteria.

H. Conclusion

It seems that, at least with regard to the treatment of detainees, there is

a considerable overlap between the two branches of law, International
Humanitarian Law and Humans Rights Law. This overlap provides suf-
ficient common ground to elaborate a set of common standards appli-
cable in all situations: international, non-international armed conflict
or no armed conflict, where the military operates in the fight against
terrorism. Given the more rudimentary nature of treaty and customary
law such a set of principles would be particularly relevant for situations
of a non-international armed conflict. The Copenhagen Process is a
good venue to work on such principles, which should aim to provide
guidance to states, not to elaborate an extremely time consuming,
politically difficult international treaty.
 Part V

Global Governance and United Nations

Konstitutionalisierung – was heißt das eigentlich?

Rudolf Bernhardt

A. Einführung

Seit gut einem Jahrzehnt taucht der Begriff „Konstitutionalisierung“

im juristischen Schrifttum (und darüber hinaus) in den verschiedens-
ten Zusammenhängen auf. Einige wenige Beispiele seien genannt
(in alphabetischer Reihenfolge der Autoren oder Herausgeber); sie sol-
len nur exemplarisch die vielfältige und unterschiedliche Verwendung
des Begriffs zeigen:
– Brun-Otto Bryde, Konstitutionalisierung des Völkerrechts und
Inter­nationalisierung des Verfassungsrechts, 42 Der Staat 61–75
(2003).
– Andreas Fischer-Lescano, Florian Rödl, Christoph Ulrich Schmid
(Hrsg.), Europäische Gesellschaftsverfassung. Zur Konstitutionali-
sierung sozialer Demokratie in Europa (2009).
– Jochen A. Frowein, Konstitutionalisierung des Völkerrechts, in:
Berichte der Deutschen Gesellschaft für Völkerrecht, Band 39,
427– 447 (2000).
– Thomas Giegerich, Europäische Verfassung und deutsche Verfas-
sung im transnationalen Konstitutionalisierungsprozeß (2003).
– Meinhard Hilf, Wolfgang Benedek, Wulf-Hennig Roth, Die Konsti­
tutionalisierung der Welthandelsordnung, in: Berichte der deut-
schen Gesellschaft für Völkerrecht, Band 40, 257–372 (2003).
– Jan Klabbers, Anne Peters, Geir Ulfstein, The Constitutionalization
of International Law (2009).
– Nadja Meisterhans, Menschenrechte als weltgesellschaftliche Herr-
schaftspraxis. Zur Konstitutionalisierung und Demokratisierung
des Weltrechts (2010).
– Philipp Molsberger, Das Subsidiaritätsprinzip im Prozess europäi-
scher Konstitutionalisierung (2009).
– Gunnar Folke Schuppert, Christian Bumke, Die Konstitutionalisie-
rung der Rechtsordnung. Überlegungen zum Verhältnis von verfas-
sungsrechtlicher Ausstrahlungswirkung und Eigenständigkeit des
„einfachen“ Rechts (2000).
1370 rudolf bernhardt

– Jörg Philipp Terhechte, Konstitutionalisierung und Normativität der

europäischen Grundrechte (2010).
Bei einer Anfrage, gerichtet an den Bibliothekskatalog des Heidelber-
ger Max-Planck-Instituts, was an Literatur zum Thema Konstitutiona-
lisierung zu finden sei, lautete die Antwort: 736 Titel (daselbst ist weiter
gesagt: „es werden max. 20.000 Treffer angezeigt“). Dabei ist zu sagen,
dass das Wort Konstitutionalisierung keineswegs immer oder auch
nur in der Mehrzahl der Fälle im Titel der genannten Publikationen
auftaucht.
Es erscheint reizvoll, in der Festschrift für Rüdiger Wolfrum einmal
der Frage nachzugehen, was unter „Konstitutionalisierung“ verstanden
werden kann. Dabei ist sich der Autor dieser Skizze bewusst, dass seine
Überlegungen vielfältige und vielfache Angriffsflächen bieten.
Der Begriff „Konstitutionalisierung“ weist in eine bestimmte Rich-
tung, aber gibt keine eindeutige Antwort auf die Frage, was gemeint
ist. Sicher ist Konstitutionalisierung etwas anderes als der historische
Konstitutionalismus in Deutschland, der seit dem Anfang des 19. Jahr-
hunderts dem monarchischen Absolutismus durch verfassungsrechtli-
che Bindungen Grenzen setzte.1
Konstitutionalisierung ist ein Begriff unserer Zeit für Probleme
unserer Zeit, er soll offenbar einen Vorgang, einen Prozess kennzeich-
nen, der noch nicht abgeschlossen ist, so wie „Demokratisierung“,
„Institutionalisierung“, „Instrumentalisierung“ oder „Technisierung“
Abläufe oder Entwicklungstendenzen umschreiben, an deren Ende ein
bestimmter Zustand erreicht (oder auch verfehlt) werden kann.
Wie gerade bemerkt, ist der Begriff Konstitutionalismus in der
deutschen Diskussion mit dem Übergang zum Verfassungsstaat ver-
bunden. Doch auch dieser Begriff wird neuerdings in anderem Zusam-
menhang und für andere Rechtsbereiche verwandt, für das Europarecht
und das Völkerrecht. Wir beschränken uns hier auf die Feststellung,
dass es zweckmäßig erscheint, Konstitutionalisierung als Umschrei-
bung eines Prozesses und Konstitutionalismus als Zustand, auch als
mögliches Ergebnis des Prozesses zu bezeichnen. Wie dem auch sei,
wir wollen uns auf die Erörterung der „Konstitutionalisierung“
beschränken, auch wenn neuerdings der Begriff „Konstitutionalismus“
in ähnlichen oder gleichen Zusammenhängen verwandt wird.

1
 Dazu neuerdings U. Müßig (Hrsg.), Konstitutionalismus und Verfassungskonflikt,
Symposium für Dietmar Willoweit (2006).
 konstitutionalisierung – was heisst das eigentlich? 1371

Die Begriffsbestimmung wird weiter dadurch erschwert, dass – wie

schon die Titel der oben genannten Werke zeigen – von Konstitutiona-
lisierung zumindest in drei Rechtsbereichen gesprochen wird, nämlich
im nationalen Recht, im europäischen Recht und im Völkerrecht. Wir
müssen daher auch fragen, ob in diesen drei Bereichen unterschiedli-
che Dinge und Erscheinungen mit demselben Begriff bedacht werden.
In unserer Skizze wollen wir weiter zwei Alternativen unter­scheiden.
Der Begriff „Konstitutionalisierung“ kann eine allgemeine Entwick-
lungstendenz ohne gesicherten rechtlichen Gehalt kennzeichnen, er
kann aber auch eine bestimmte Entwicklung des positiven Rechts
umschreiben, dass nämlich Verfassungsrecht im Entstehen oder schon
entstanden ist. Die zweite Alternative, die Betrachtung des positiven
Rechts, soll hier im Vordergrund stehen, wir gehen also der Frage nach,
ob Konstitutionalisierung das positive Recht betrifft, und diese Frage
wollen wir getrennt und nacheinander für das nationale Recht, das
europäische Recht und das Völkerrecht betrachten.

B. Konstitutionalisierung im staatlichen Recht

Wie die oben genannte Schrift von Schuppert und Bumke – vor allem
in ihrem Untertitel – zeigt, ist zum deutschen Recht eine Diskussion
über den Einfluss des Verfassungsrechts (und damit auch der Verfas-
sungsgerichtsbarkeit) auf das einfache Recht im Gange. Ob es eine
ähnliche Diskussion in vielen anderen Staaten gibt, muss hier dahin-
stehen und ist eher zu bezweifeln, da nur wenige Staaten eine so ins
Einzelne gehende Verfassungsgerichtsbarkeit kennen. In der deutschen
Diskussion wird der Begriff Konstitutionalisierung also im Zusam-
menhang mit dem Verhältnis von Verfassungsrecht und einfachem
Recht gebraucht, er soll die Durchdringung des einfachen Rechts, vor
allem des Zivilrechts, aber auch des Strafrechts und des Verwaltungs-
rechts durch verfassungsrechtliche Normen und Prinzipien kennzeich-
nen (und oft auch kritisieren). Insoweit handelt es sich um eine
Diskussion, die mit dem Gebrauch desselben Begriffs im Europarecht
und im Völkerrecht nichts gemeinsam hat. Zuweilen tauchen im deut-
schen Schrifttum auch andere Konstitutionalisierungsfragen auf: Das
Europäische Gemeinschaftsrecht geht dem nationalen Recht vor, und
für völkerrechtliche Verträge wird zuweilen dasselbe behauptet. Han-
delt es sich damit um ein Konstitutionalisierungsproblem? Meines
Erachtens nicht, es geht um das Verhältnis zwischen dem natio­
nalen Recht einerseits, dem Recht der europäischen Union und dem
1372 rudolf bernhardt

Völkerrecht andererseits, also um unterschiedliche Rechtskreise, die

sich überschneiden. Für völkerrechtliche Verträge geht wohl die immer
noch überwiegende Meinung und die Rechtsprechung, vor allem auch
die Rechtsprechung des Bundesverfassungsgerichts, davon aus, dass
Gesetz und Vertrag prinzipiell innerstaatlich den gleichen Rang
unterhalb der Verfassung haben. Gilt vielleicht etwas anderes für
besondere Verträge, insbesondere für die Europäische Menschen-
rechts-Konvention? Diese Konvention wird zuweilen auch als europäi-
sche Grundrechtsverfassung bezeichnet, und das aus guten Gründen,
aber damit handelt es sich meines Erachtens nicht um nationales Ver-
fassungsrecht, selbst wenn man die Konvention zum Prüfungsmaßstab
des Bundesverfassungsgerichts erheben würde. Es gibt bessere Gründe
für die These, dass die Grundrechte des deutschen Verfassungsrechts
in der Regel im Einklang mit der Europäischen Menschenrechts-
Konvention ausgelegt werden sollten; damit ist eine Brücke zwischen
nationalen und internationalen Grundrechten geschaffen, ohne dass
das internationale Recht zum deutschen Verfassungsrecht erhoben
oder so eingestuft wird.
Diese knappe Skizze zeigt, dass Konstitutionalisierung im deutschen
Recht etwas anderes meint als auf internationaler Ebene. Das schließt
natürlich nicht aus, dass ausländische Rechtsordnungen anderweitig
zur „Konstitutionalisierung“ greifen, so hat Österreich die Europäische
Menschenrechts-Konvention schon seit langem mit Verfassungsrang
ausgestattet.

C. Konstitutionalisierung des Rechts der

Europäischen Union?

Der sogenannte Verfassungsvertrag ist gescheitert, wohl auch deshalb,

weil viele Gegner zu viel Verfassung und zu wenig Vertrag zu erkennen
meinten. Hier haben wir wieder ein Beispiel dafür, dass die Aufschrift
auf der Verpackung gewichtiger sein kann als der Inhalt des Pakets,
dabei waren Aufschrift und Inhalt des Pakets so gut und fortschrittlich
gemeint. Ist damit die Diskussion über eine Europäische Verfassung
beendet? Sicher nicht.
Als Anfang der 80er Jahre des vorigen Jahrhunderts die Kommission
der Europäischen Gemeinschaft einen Band über die Quellen des
Gemeinschaftsrechts plante und publizierte, vertraute man mir den
Beitrag über „Die „Verfassung“ der Gemeinschaft“ an. Ich schrieb den
 konstitutionalisierung – was heisst das eigentlich? 1373

Beitrag und hielt die Anführungszeichen bei Verfassung für sinnvoll,

um auf den besonderen Charakter dieser Verfassung hinzuweisen.
Leider ist es zuweilen auch heute noch schwer zu vermitteln, dass der
Verfassungsbegriff nicht nur die staatliche Verfassung umfasst.
Die Europäische Union hat unzweifelhaft eine Verfassung und ist
trotzdem kein Staat. Daher ist es keinesfalls abwegig, von einer Konsti-
tutionalisierung zu sprechen, aber ist das zweckmäßig und dem Gegen-
stand angemessen? Darüber lässt sich streiten. Das primäre Unionsrecht
ist in den einschlägigen Verträgen enthalten. Es kann überwiegend nur
durch neue (in der Regel einstimmig vereinbarte) Verträge abgeändert
werden. Die Verträge enthalten sowohl grundsätzliche Vorschriften
über die Kompetenzen, die Organe und die Verfahren der Gemein-
schaft als auch manche Details, denen man ungern Verfassungs-
Charakter attestieren möchte. Was trägt es also zur Erkenntnis bei, den
Verträgen allgemein einen Status von Verfassungsrecht zu geben? Der
Begriff der Konstitutionalisierung ist meines Erachtens ungeeignet, die
Entwicklungen des geschriebenen Gemeinschaftsrechts zu kennzeich-
nen. Sicher schreitet allgemein die Verrechtlichung und Verfestigung
des Gemeinschaftsrechts fort, aber meines Erachtens ist es problema-
tisch, hier von einer Konstitutionalisierung zu sprechen.
Eben das ist jedoch in einem anderen Bereich des Gemeinschafts-
rechts zu erwägen: beim ungeschriebenen Gemeinschaftsrecht. Das
lässt sich an der Grundrechtsdiskussion zeigen. Solange die Gemein-
schaft keinen eigenen Grundrechtskatalog besaß und solange sie
noch nicht Partner der Europäischen Menschenrechts-Konvention ist,
waren Grundrechte Teil des ungeschriebenen Gemeinschaftsrechts,
und zwar in dem Umfang, in dem sie sich (außer auf die Europäische
Menschenrechts-Konvention) auf gemeinsame Regeln und Prinzipien
des nationalen Rechts, insbesondere des nationalen Verfassungsrechts
stützen konnten. Es ist meines Erachtens erwägenswert, die fort­
schreitende Einbeziehung der gemeinsamen Verfassungsprinzipien
der Mitgliedstaaten in das primäre Gemeinschaftsrecht als Konstituti-
onalisierungsprozess zu bezeichnen. Aus dem Recht, insbesondere
dem demokratischen Verfassungsrecht der Mitgliedstaaten, wird „Ver-
fassungsrecht“ der Europäischen Union.
Mit dem Vertrag von Lissabon haben nun die demokratische Basis
der Union, das Gebot der Rechtsstaatlichkeit und die Grundrechte
verstärkt Eingang in den Verfassungstext gefunden. Art. 2 des Unions-
vertrages nennt die Werte, „auf die sich die Union gründet“, und
Art. 6 nennt drei Quellen für den Grundrechtsschutz, nämlich die
1374 rudolf bernhardt

Grundrechte-Charta, die Europäische Menschenrechts-Konvention,

der die Union beitreten will, und die Grundrechte, „wie sie sich
aus den gemeinsamen Verfassungsüberlieferungen der Mitgliedstaaten
ergeben.“Die Praxis und die Rechtsprechung müssen zeigen, ob und
wie sie die Prinzipien in konkrete Rechtsregeln umsetzen. Wenn man
den Begriff der Konstitutionalisierung überhaupt für angebracht hält,
ist es meines Erachtens in diesem Bereich der Fall. Es handelt sich in
der Substanz um die Einfügung demokratischer Werte und grund-
rechtlicher Sicherungen in das Unionsrecht, wobei die Werte und die
Sicherungen zum erheblichen Teil ihre Grundlagen im Verfassungs-
recht der Mitgliedstaaten finden.

D. Konstitutionalisierung im Völkerrecht?

Während im Recht der Europäischen Union mit derzeit 27 Mitglied-

staaten und in der Europäischen Menschenrechts-Konvention des
Europarats mit derzeit 47 Mitgliedstaaten gemeinsame Werte als
Grundlage eines Konstitutionalisierungsprozesses angesehen werden
können, ist die Situation im übrigen Völkerrecht diffus, und gerade in
diesem Bereich wird der Begriff der Konstitutionalisierung in der wis-
senschaftlichen Diskussion besonders oft verwandt. Sicher ist, dass die
Satzung der Vereinten Nationen mit 192 Mitgliedstaaten eine Art
Verfassung der Staatengemeinschaft darstellt, sicher ist, dass völker-
rechtliche Vereinbarungen sich auf immer mehr Lebensbereiche
erstrecken und an Regelungsintensität zunehmen, sicher ist weiter,
dass internationale Konferenzen und Organisationen neue Verfahren
zur Generierung von Völkerrecht entwickeln, sicher ist schließlich,
dass die internationale Gerichtsbarkeit an Bedeutung gewonnen hat
und weiter gewinnen dürfte.
Aber jeder dieser Feststellungen ist ein „aber“ oder ein Fragezeichen
hinzuzufügen. Die Vereinten Nationen sind erst seit den 90er Jahren in
der Lage, über den Sicherheitsrat wirksam bei Konflikten einzugreifen,
und das auch nur, wenn die fünf Veto-Mächte sich einig sind. Die Sat-
zung mit ihren Artikeln 24, 25 und 103 macht es rechtlich möglich,
einzelnen Staaten den Willen der Staatengemeinschaft aufzuzwingen,
aber die Einigkeit ist fragil. Dass auch der Teil des Völkerrechts, der
in zahllosen Verträgen niedergelegt ist, entweder oft vage ist oder in
der Praxis nicht selten ein Lippenbekenntnis darstellt, lässt sich an
dem internationalen Schutz der Menschenrechte exemplarisch zeigen.
Die internationale Gerichtsbarkeit erlebt sicher eine Blütezeit, aber
 konstitutionalisierung – was heisst das eigentlich? 1375

wie steht es mit der Bereitschaft der mächtigsten und vieler anderer
Staaten, ihre Interessen dem Richterspruch anzuvertrauen? Man findet
immer wieder Beispiele für und gegen eine generelle Aussage, aber wer
kann wirklich gemeinsam anerkannte Wertgrundlagen der Staatenge-
meinschaft feststellen? Übrigens ist auch die wissenschaftliche Diskus-
sion des Völkerrechts überwiegend eine Domäne amerikanischer und
europäischer Experten, China und weitere Staaten von globaler Bedeu-
tung werden kaum zur Kenntnis genommen und beteiligen sich ihrer-
seits kaum an dem wissenschaftlichen Gedankenaustausch.
Zurück zur Frage, ob Konstitutionalisierung stattfindet. Alfred
Verdross hat vor mehr als 80 Jahren von der „Verfassung der Völker-
rechtsgemeinschaft“ geredet und darüber publiziert. Das war und ist
berechtigt, wenn man – wie bei Staaten – unter Verfassung nicht nur
eine gute Verfassung versteht. Auch eine schlechte Verfassung ist eine
Verfassung, und es ist meines Erachtens zweifelhaft, ob man die gegen-
wärtige Verfassung der Staatengemeinschaft für gut oder schlecht
halten kann und soll. Manche Apostel der Konstitutionalisierung
befürworten vor allem eine weitere Demokratisierung internationaler
Verfahren, auch dabei sind Fragezeichen angebracht. Wir müssen
sowohl in der Realität wie in der wissenschaftlichen Diskussion weiter
zur Kenntnis nehmen, dass die staatliche Souveränität einen wichtigen
Faktor bei der Gestaltung des Völkerrechts darstellt, und dabei sind
viele Staaten keineswegs demokratisch in unserem Verständnis.
Unser Fazit lautet: Von Konstitutionalisierung im Völkerrecht zu
sprechen, ist nur dann angebracht, wenn man positive und negative
Aspekte der gegenwärtigen Weltordnung in das Bild einbezieht und
einen Oberbegriff für die Entwicklungstendenzen sucht.
Wie einige Titel der eingangs genannten Publikationen zeigen,
wird der Konstitutionalisierungsbegriff auch für einzelne Sektoren der
Völkerrechtsordnung verwandt. Wirtschaftsverfassung oder Grund-
rechtsverfassung sind solche Sektoren, andere lassen sich hinzufügen.
Man kann von einer Konstitutionalisierung der vor allem in der UN-
Satzung enthaltenen Regeln über die Verhinderung der Aggression
sprechen, die internationale Strafgerichtsbarkeit kann sich in einem
Prozess der Konstitutionalisierung befinden, dasselbe kann für den
internationalen Umweltschutz, den grenzüberschreitenden Verkehr
und vieles andere postuliert oder konstatiert werden. Wieder ist es
zweifelsfrei, dass die internationalen Regeln weiter zunehmen und
dass die wissenschaftliche Durchdringung erforderlich ist und von vie-
len Experten und Spezialisten betrieben wird. Auch wenn das alles
1376 rudolf bernhardt

offensichtlich ist, bleibt es zweifelhaft, ob der Begriff „Konstitutionali-

sierung“ angemessen ist. Das möchte ich eher verneinen, der Begriff
erweckt den Eindruck, es entstünde ein höherrangiger und kohärenter
Normenbereich, obwohl es sich schlichter ausgedrückt um eine zuneh-
mende Verrechtlichung handelt, die oft durch Kompromisse und vage
Vorschriften gekennzeichnet ist.

E. Ein skeptisches Resümee

Von Konstitutionalisierung wird in den verschiedensten Zusammen-

hängen und Rechtsbereichen gesprochen.
Die Verwendung des Begriffs im nationalen Recht unterscheidet
sich grundlegend von der Diskussion auf internationaler Ebene. Auf
nationaler Ebene geht es um die Durchdringung des einfachen staatli-
chen Rechts durch das Verfassungsrecht, oder auch um die Erhebung
internationaler Normen in den Rang nationalen Verfassungsrechts.
Die Diskussion auf der Ebene des nationalen Rechts hat wenig mit der
internationalen Diskussion gemeinsam.
Im Recht der Europäischen Union kann am ehesten in dem Sinn von
Konstitutionalisierung gesprochen werden, als im Unionsrecht unge-
schriebene Normen aus den Verfassungstraditionen der Mitgliedstaa-
ten zu primärem Gemeinschaftsrecht erhoben werden.
Im Völkerrecht ist einige Skepsis angebracht, wenn von Konstitutio-
nalisierung gesprochen wird. Der Begriff erweckt den Eindruck,
dass es sich um einen Normenbereich handelt, der grundsätzlichen
Charakter hat, höherrangig und kohärent ist und eine umfassende
und dauerhafte Ordnung verheißt. Das ist aber nur selten der Fall. Nur
die Kompetenzen des Sicherheitsrates der Vereinten Nationen (und
das oft umstrittene ius cogens) besitzen eine höherrangige Verbindlich-
keit. Im Übrigen handelt es sich fast ausnahmslos um Verrechtlichun-
gen, auf die noch immer die normalen und traditionellen Regeln
des Völkerrechts anwendbar sind. Es ist ein Gebot der Zeit, die interna-
tionale Rechtsordnung weiter auszubauen, die zwischenstaatlichen
Verpflichtungen weiter zu entwickeln und den Interdependenzen
verstärkt Rechnung zu tragen. Ob der Begriff Konstitutionalisierung
dabei nennenswert hilft und selbst aussagekräftig ist, kann bezweifelt
werden. Zuweilen erweckt er den Eindruck, es sei schon ein befriedi-
gender Zustand erreicht, obwohl Fortschritte allenfalls punktuell und
temporär erkennbar sind.
 Thoughts on International Democracy

Armin von Bogdandy

A. Introduction

The legitimacy of international institutions, in particular their demo-

cratic legitimacy, has been one recurrent topic in Rüdiger Wolfrum’s
writings.1 His presentation at the annual meeting of German public
law professors in 1996 made a powerful plea for developing domestic
parliaments better to scrutinize and hence legitimize foreign policy.2
In his 2008 book on “Legitimacy in International Law”, he argues that
a legitimacy gap may develop where international legal instruments
are designed to be progressively developed without the requirement
of approval by the competent national institutions. This gap should
be addressed by strengthening the impact on and control of the
legislature with regard to foreign policy affairs and by the establish-
ment of international organizations or fora exercising legitimate global
governance.3
This text wants to contribute to this debate by analyzing what
lessons can be learnt from the European Union (EU) experience for
other institutions of public authority beyond the state. It tries to
show that the provisions of EU law and the doctrinal elaboration of a

* Jochen von Bernstorff and Marie von Engelhardt provided valuable assistance in
the completion of this contribution.
1
R. Wolfrum, Kontrolle der auswärtigen Gewalt, 56 Veröffentlichungen der
Vereinigung der Deutschen Staatsrechtslehrer 38 (1997); R. Wolfrum, Vorbereitende
Willensbildung und Entscheidungsprozeß beim Abschluß multilateraler völkerrechtli-
cher Verträge, in: J. Ipsen/ E. Schmidt-Jortzig (eds.), Recht–Staat–Gemeinwohl.
Festschrift für Dieter Rauschning, 407 (2001); R. Wolfrum, Grundgesetz und
Außenpolitik, in: S. Schmidt et al. (eds.), Handbuch zur deutschen Außenpolitik, at
157 (2006); R. Wolfrum, Legitimacy in International Law from a Legal Perspective:
Some Introductory Considerations, in: R. Wolfrum/ V. Röben (eds.), Legitimacy in
International Law, 1 (2008).
2
Meeting held in Dresden, 2–5 October 1996. See Wolfrum, Kontrolle der auswär-
tigen Gewalt (note 1).
3
Wolfrum, in: Wolfrum/Röben (note 1), 22.
1378 armin von bogdandy

supranational principle of democracy provide at least a useful frame-

work for the discussion of how to address the democratic legitimacy of
international organizations.
European social sciences, like the European public in general, have
dealt impressively for quite some time with the issue of democracy in
European integration, and have led by now to some significant declara-
tions, provisions, doctrines, and cases. The debate on other institutions
of public authority beyond the state is in a less developed state and has
so far had few consequences in positive law. As comparison is a main
avenue to insight, this article will present several elements of European
positive law, and ask what can be learnt from these norms for the inter-
national debate. It will sketch the difficult path from a political idea to
positive law (B.), present the path-breaking conceptual innovation in
EU law (C.), highlight the importance of parliamentary institutions
(D.), stress the importance of further instruments of accountability and
responsiveness (E.), and conclude with a look at the role of domestic
institutions (F.).

B. Development

I. The Positivization of the Principle at the European Level

For many decades, European legal scholarship focused not on the prin-
ciple of democracy, but rather on that of the rule of law. With regard to
the latter, there was consensus ab initio that it should be applied directly
to the acts of the supranational organs, i.e. that the Community needed
its proper rule of law legitimacy. Mere indirect application, i.e. via the
national officials participating in the European political process or
implementing its result in the national sphere, was always considered
insufficient.4

4
For the international level, this issue is most importantly discussed with respect to
the Kadi judgment of the ECJ, Cases C-402/05 P and C-415/05 P, Kadi et al. v. Council
and Commission, 2008 ECR I-6351; D. Halberstam/ E. Stein, The United Nations, the
European Union, and the King of Sweden: Economic Sanctions and Individual Rights
in a Plural World Order, 46 Common Market Law Review 13 (2009); see also the
special issue of the International Organizations Law Review: J. Klabbers, Kadi Justice
at the Security Council?, 4 International Organizations Law Review 293 (2008);
R.A. Wessel, The Kadi Case: Towards a More Substantive Hierarchy in International
Law?, 5 International Organizations Law Review 323 (2008); L. M. Hinojosa Martínez,
Bad Law for Good Reasons: The Contradictions of the Kadi Judgment, 5 International
Organizations Law Review 339 (2008); L. van den Herik/ N. Schrijver, Eroding the
 thoughts on international democracy1379

The postulate of democratic legitimacy proper to the Community

developed in sharp contrast to that. For a long time, it had been only a
political request of European federalists and not a legal principle. Until
the 1990s, the view was held that the supranational authority did not
legally require a democratic legitimacy of its own.5 Then, a rapid devel-
opment took place with two focal points: Union citizenship and the
Union’s organizational set-up.6
The development from political demand for an independent demo-
cratic legitimacy to legal principle has been arduous. Tellingly, even the
1976 Act concerning the election of the representatives of the
Parliament by direct universal suffrage does not yet contain the term
“democracy”.7 Beginning in the 1980s, the European Court of Justice
(ECJ) very cautiously started to use the concept of democracy as a legal
principle.8 The Treaty of Maastricht then employed this term, although
it mentions its relevance for the supranational level only in the 5th
recital of the Preamble.9 With Article F EU Treaty in the Maastricht
version of 1992, democracy found its way into a Treaty provision–yet
not addressing the Union, but rather with a view to the Member States’
political systems. The leap was not made until the Treaty of Amsterdam
of 1997, Article 6 EU of which laid down that the principle of democ-
racy also applies to the Union. This internal constitutional develop-
ment is buttressed by external provisions. Of particular importance are
Article 3 of the first Protocol to the European Convention on Human

Primacy of the UN System of Collective Security: The Judgment of the European

Court of Justice in the Cases of Kadi and Al Barakaat, 5 International Organizations
Law Review 329 (2008).
5
A. Randelzhofer, Zum behaupteten Demokratiedefizit der Europäischen
Gemeinschaft, in: P. Kirchhof/ P. Hommelhoff (eds.), Der Staatenverbund der
Europäischen Union, 39, at 40 (1994).
6
See in detail P. Dann, The Political Institutions, and S. Kadelbach, Union
Citizenship, in: A. von Bogdandy/ J. Bast (eds.), Principles of European Constitutional
Law, 237 and 443 resp. (2nd rev. ed. 2010).
7
Act and decision concerning the election of the representatives of the Assembly
by direct universal suffrage, 1976 OJ L 278, 1.
8
The democratic principle serves predominantly to enable judicial review, Case
138/79, Roquette Frères v. Council, 1980 ECR 3333, para. 33; Case C-300/89, Commission
v. Council, 1991 ECR I-2867, para. 20; Case C-392/95, Parliament v. Council, 1997
ECR I-3213, para. 14.
9
On the development of the European Union through successive treaties see
A.M. Guerra Martins, European (Economic) Community, in: R. Wolfrum (ed.),
The Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law (2008), online edition,
www.mpepil.com.
1380 armin von bogdandy

Rights in its interpretation by the European Court of Human Rights,10

as well as–albeit less clearly–national provisions such as Article 23(1)
German Basic Law.11

II. The Development at the International Level

The idea of international or global democracy has an important pedi-
gree.12 In particular in the first decades of the 20th century proposals
were presented which aimed at some form of a global representative
assembly.13 Most important were theoretical proposals to establish a
parliamentary assembly within the framework of the League of Nations,
which never materialized.14
Yet, the fall of the Berlin wall can be seen as a watershed in the debate
on international democracy. First, given the apparent success of
“Western” constitutional ideas, important authors started proposing
democracy as a principle of international law to which the law and
practice of states have to conform.15 Second, the fall of the Berlin wall
initiated an epoch of globalization and intense international activity.
As international organizations became far more active, the conviction
that their democratic legitimacy was fully covered and secured by state
consent began to erode. To the extent that they succeed in establishing
themselves as institutions of public authority developing international
law and involved in policy choices, functionalist narratives that invoke
common goals or values were also increasingly challenged as wholly

10
ECHR (GC), Matthews v. UK, Application No 24833/94; G. Ress, Das
Europäische Parlament als Gesetzgeber: Der Blickpunkt der EMRK, 2 Zeitschrift
für Europarechtliche Studien 219, at 226 (1999).
11
On similar provisions in other constitutions see C. Grabenwarter, National
Constitutional Law Relating to the European Union, in: von Bogdandy/ J. Bast
(note 6), 83.
12
M. Krajewski, International Organizations or Institutions, Democratic Legitimacy,
in: Wolfrum (note 9); T. Franck, The Emerging Right to Democratic Governance,
86 American Journal of International Law 46 (1992).
13
On the historical evolution of international parliamentary assemblies see
F. Arndt, International Parliamentary Assemblies, in: Wolfrum (note 9), at B.
14
H. Wehberg, Grundprobleme des Völkerbundes, at 83–84 (1926); G. Scelle, Une
crise de la société des Nations. La réforme du Conseil et l’Entrée de l’Allemagne à
Genève, at 137–147 (1927); see also C. Kissling, Repräsentativ-parlamentarische
Entwürfe globaler Demokratiegestaltung im Laufe der Zeit. Eine rechtspolitische
Ideengeschichte (2005), available at http://www.forhistiur.de/zitat/0502kissling.htm.
15
Franck (note 12); N. Petersen, Demokratie als teleologisches Prinzip. Zur
Legitimität von Staatsgewalt im Völkerrecht (2009); for a critique M. Koskenniemi,
Legal Cosmopolitanism: Tom Franck’s Messianic World, 35 New York University
Journal of International law and Politics 471 (2003).
 thoughts on international democracy1381

satisfactory justifications of their actions.16 As actors wielding public

authority, their actions are increasingly seen as requiring a genuine
mode of justification in light of the principle of democracy. Here lies
the difference with respect to the earlier debate: whereas its proposals
did not mainly address a possible legitimacy gap in international activ-
ity but rather aimed at furthering international federation, the contem-
porary proposals are propelled by the perception of some legitimatory
insufficiency.
So far, this discussion has had few results in the general law of inter-
national institutions. However, various initiatives by civil society and
international legal and policy experts have developed proposals for the
enhanced democratic accountability of international institutions
through institutional reforms and new legal approaches to global gov-
ernance.17 The international debate is roughly where Europe stood at
the end of the 1980s.

C. Defining Democracy Beyond the State

I. EU Law
The word “democracy” in Article 2 EU carries no definition. Nothing
better depicts the long-standing uncertainties of how to understand
the Union’s principle of democracy than Part I Title VI and Part II
Title V of the defunct Constitutional Treaty. Under the headings
“The Democratic Life of the Union” and “Citizens’ Rights” respectively,
a number of heterogeneous provisions were amassed. The difficul-
ties also become evident in the remarkably cautious jurisprudence of
the ECJ which largely abstains from developing a definition of the

16
See T. Christiano, Democratic Legitimacy and International Institutions, in:
S. Besson/ J. Tasioulas (eds.), The Philosophy of International Law, 119 (2010);
I. Venzke, International Bureaucracies from a Political Science Perspective–Agency,
Authority and International Institutional Law, 9 German Law Journal 1401 (2008); and
the critique of the functionalist necessity theory in: J. Klabbers, An Introduction to
International Institutional Law, at 32 (2009). For a taxonomy of the different approaches
see A. von Bogdandy, Globalization and Europe: How to Square Democracy,
Globalization, and International Law, 15 European Journal of International Law 885,
at 899 (2004).
17
See below, section D. II Lessons for the International Level on institutional struc-
ture and reform; and section E. II Lessons for the International Level on new legal
approaches.
1382 armin von bogdandy

democratic subject. In contrast to most other terms of European law,

the Court avoids an autonomous determination and leaves the field to
the Member States.18 The Treaty of Lisbon takes a big step forward in
this regard: the four articles of Title II TEU-Lis are far more coherent;
the complex interdisciplinary discussion on European democracy
bears some fruit here.19
A number of concepts which are prominent in national legal dis-
courses on the concretization of the democracy principle can be
discarded for the purpose of defining the democracy principle as per-
taining to the Union. This is particularly true for the theory which
understands democracy as being the rule of “the people”, of a “Volk”.
The concept “people” is reserved for the polities of the Member States:
Article 1(2) EU. This suggests that the principle of democracy within
the context of the Union must be concretized independently from the
concept of “people”. The notion of Union citizenship serves as a con-
vincing alternative and informs Article 9 EU in the tradition of repub-
lican equality. European democracy is to be conceived from the
perspective of the individual citizens. This could, however, have been
expressed even more clearly in Article 9 TEU-Lis, which in its present
form still contains a somewhat unfortunate paternalistic overtone.
Yet it would be a misunderstanding of the Union’s principle of
democracy to place only the individual Union citizen in the centre. The
Union does not negate the democratic organization of citizens in and
by the Member States. Thus, alongside the Union citizens, the Member
States’ democratically organized peoples are acting in the Union’s
decision-making process as organized associations. The Union’s princi-
ple of democracy builds on these two elements: the current Treaties
speak on the one hand of the peoples of the Member States, and on the
other hand of the Union’s citizens insofar as the principle of democracy
is at issue. The central elements which determine the Union’s principle
of democracy at this basic level are thus named. The Union rests on a

18
Case C-145/04, Spain v. UK, 2006 ECR I-7917, para. 71; Case C-300/04, Sevinger,
2006 ECR I-8055, para. 44.
19
F. Schimmelpfennig, Legitimate Rule in the European Union, 27 Tübinger
Arbeitspapiere zur Internationalen Politik und Friedensforschung (1996), available
at www.uni-tuebingen.de/uni/spi/taps/tap27.htm; H. Bauer et al. (eds.), Demokratie
in Europa (2005); B. Kohler-Koch/ B. Rittberger (eds.), Debating the Democratic
Legitimacy of the European Union (2007); and on the legal debate in historical
retrospective: A. von Komorowski, Demokratieprinzip und Europäische Union.
Staatsverfassungsrechtliche Anforderungen an die demokratische Legitimation der
EG-Normsetzung, at 155–168 (2010).
 thoughts on international democracy1383

dual structure of democratic legitimacy: the totality of the Union’s citi-

zens and the peoples in the European Union as organized by their
respective Member States’ constitutions.20 This conception can be seen
clearly in Article 10(2) EU. Another lesson is that democracy beyond
the state does not substitute for but complement domestic forms.
At this point, the key question of European constitutional theory
arises; it is whether the two strands of legitimacy assume the existence
of two structurally different subjects of legitimacy and are to be con-
ceived in different theoretical traditions, or whether there is a single
basis of legitimacy.21 The dual approach seems to argue for a concep-
tion of the political design as a compromise between an understanding
of democracy centred on the individual and a holistic one based on the
macro-subject of a people.22 Yet such a syncretic conception appears to
be problematic on the theoretical level. It is theoretically more convinc-
ing to conceive only the individuals, which are national as well as
Union citizens, as the sole subjects of legitimacy.23
But what is it all about? Some authors understand European democ-
racy as a way of political self-determination.24 As a matter of fact, the
Union can be interpreted as an institution protecting Europeans from
American, Chinese or Russian hegemony. But this does not satisfy the
notion of political self-determination in post-colonial times. The notion
of self-determination can then be understood, firstly, in the sense of
individual self-determination. To interpret the complex procedures
of the Union in this sense, however, exceeds conventional imagination,
or at least that of the present author. Furthermore, such an understand-
ing might encourage intolerance with the tendency to exclude

20
Concerning the model of dual legitimation see S. Oeter, Federalism and
Democracy, and P. Dann, The Political Institutions, in: von Bogdandy/ J. Bast (note 6),
55, 237.; A. Peters, Elemente einer Theorie der Verfassung Europas, at 209, 219 (2001).
21
J. von Achenbach, Theoretische Aspekte des dualen Konzepts demokratischer
Legitimation für die Europäische Union, in: S. Vöneky et al. (eds.), Legitimation ethi­
scher Entscheidungen im Recht, at 191 (2009).
22
S. Dellavalle, Between Citizens and Peoples, 2–3 Annual of German & European
Law 171 (2004–2005).
23
In more detail see von Achenbach (note 21); A. von Bogdandy, The Legal Case
for Unity, 36 Common Market Law Review 887, at 900 (1999); I. Pernice, Europäisches
und nationales Verfassungsrecht, 60 Veröffentlichungen der Vereinigung Deutscher
Staatsrechtslehrer 148, at 160 et seq. and 176 (2001).
24
C. Lord, Parliamentary Representation in a Decentered Polity, in: Kohler-Koch/
Rittberger (note 19), at 160; C. Möllers, Gewaltengliederung, at 28 et seq. (2005); and,
most prominently, J. Habermas, Between Facts and Norms, at 90 and 315 et seq. and
passim (reprint 2008).
1384 armin von bogdandy

renegades. The alternative is to interpret democracy as collective self-

determination. This appears viable in a nation-state on the basis of a
strong concept of nation. It is, however, not transposable to the
European level, since exactly such a collective, such a form of political
unity, such a “We” is missing. The consequence of this conception can
therefore only be to perceive the Union as currently not capable of
democracy. Although this conclusion can certainly be argued theoreti-
cally, it is useless for legal doctrine since it is unable to give meaning to
a term of positive law, the “democracy” of Article 2 TEU.
Political self-determination thus becomes implausible also for the
understanding of democracy in the Member States. The citizens or
peoples of the Member States cannot exercise self-determination, given
their membership of the Union. Such conceptions of democracy
accordingly have a critical potential only with respect to democracy in
Europe, but cannot help to give meaning to the term “democracy” of
Article 2 TEU. Respective philosophical conceptions are concerned
with a “regulative idea” the luminance of which is limited with respect
to the analysis of positive law; they should not be confounded with the
legal principle.25 A less grand concept of democracy needs to be
sketched, focusing on interest representation and control.

II. Lessons for the International Level

A first lesson from European law for the international debate is that
democracy is conceptually possible beyond the confines of the nation
state and without a “people”. It shows moreover that this conceptual
move enjoys huge legitimacy as the Lisbon Treaty has been approved
by huge majorities in most national parliaments and endorsed by refer-
enda. Hence, realizing a more legitimate global order does not require
a global people, let alone a world state.26 European law indicates the
development of cosmopolitan forms of democracy which, however,
aim at control and interest representation, and not at grand schemes
such as self-government.

25
Habermas (note 24), at 215 et seq.
26
For an account of the cosmopolitan model of democracy see, for example,
D. Archibugi, Principi di democrazia cosmopolita, in: D. Archibugi/ D. Bettham (eds.),
Diritti Umani e Democrazia Cosmopolita, 66, at 99 et seq. (1998); D. Archibugi/
G. Held (eds.), Cosmopolitan Democracy. An Agenda for a New World Order
(1995); H. Brunkhorst, Solidarität. Von der Bürgerfreundschaft zur globalen
Rechtsgenossenschaft, at 20 (2002).
 thoughts on international democracy1385

Another lesson is to build on the dual structure of democratic legiti-

macy. If the EU experience is of any use, democratic procedures at the
international level are more likely to work if they are set out to supple-
ment rather than substitute the democratic legitimacy that is produced
by domestic procedures. The experience from the European Union,
where democratic legitimacy is derived from direct elections by equal
citizens (via the European Parliament) and indirectly through the peo-
ples of the Member States (via the European Council and Council),
exemplifies that different bases for legitimacy can not only coexist, but
can be mutually supportive.
Accordingly, the democratic legitimacy of international public
authority can be improved by better parliamentary control of the exec-
utive and national referenda on matters negotiated in international
fora.27 Second, legitimacy can be derived more directly through institu-
tional reforms on the international level either through the establish-
ment of international institutions of a parliamentary nature (see below),
or through new forms of civic participation at the global level (see
below).28 At the heart of the latter approaches often lies a deliberative or
pluralist understanding of democracy, which focuses on the opportu-
nity for participation of all individuals affected by certain policies, but
sometimes also neo-corporative theories of democracy.29 In this con-
text, enabling the participation of non-governmental organizations
(NGOs) as exponents of international civil society is often advanced as
possible compensation for the detachment of international processes
from national parliamentary control.30 Pragmatic reforms are therefore

27
Wolfrum, Kontrolle der auswärtigen Gewalt (note 1), at 38 et seq., 45 et seq.,
and 61 et seq.; furthermore K. Hailbronner, Kontrolle der auswärtigen Gewalt, Id.,
at 7 et seq.
28
S. Kadelbach, Die parlamentarische Kontrolle des Regierungshandelns bei der
Beschlußfassung in internationalen Organisationen, in: R. Geiger (ed.), Neue Probleme
der parlamentarischen Legitimation im Bereich der auswärtigen Gewalt, at 41, 53,
and 56 et seq. (2003); for an overview of the relevant international practice see
H. Schermers/ N. Blokker, International Institutional Law, at para. 558 et seq. (3rd ed.
1995); H. Lindemann, Parliamentary Assemblies, International, in: R. Bernhardt (ed.),
3 Encyclopedia of Public International Law, at 892–898 (1997); C. Walter, Parliamentary
Assemblies, International, Addendum, in: Id., at 898–904.
29
This latter understanding informs the EU Commission’ s White Paper on
European Governance: see COM (2001) 428 final, available at http://eur-lex.europa
.eu/LexUriServ/site/en/com/2001/com2001_0428en01.pdf.
30
Of particular interest in recent years has been civil actors’ access to the WTO
Dispute Settlement mechanism: see P. Mavroidis, Amicus Curiae Briefs before the
WTO: Much Ado about Nothing, in: A. von Bogdandy et al. (eds.), Liber Amicorum
Claus-Dieter Ehlermann, at 317 et seq. (2002); and D. Steger, Amicus Curiae:
1386 armin von bogdandy

geared towards the development of decision-making systems of inter-

national organizations which facilitate the participation of civil actors
in international procedures, and emphasize the need for transparent
and accountable exercise of public authority in international politics.31

D. The Principle of Democracy and

the Institutional Structure

I. EU Law
The principle of democracy finds its most important expression in rep-
resentative institutions; Article 10(1) EU builds on this. Almost twenty
years of discussion have revealed that parliamentarianism is without an
alternative for the EU but has to be adapted to its specific needs.
In accordance with the basic premise of dual legitimacy, elections pro-
vide two lines of democratic legitimacy. These lines are institutionally
represented by the European Parliament, which is based on elections
by the totality of the Union’s citizens, and by the Council and the
European Council, whose legitimacy is based on the Member States’
democratically organized peoples: see Article 10(2) EU. In the current
constitutional situation there is a clear dominance of the line of legiti-
macy from the national parliaments, as shown in particular by Article
48 EU as well as the preponderance of the Council and the European
Council in the Union’s procedures. Viewed in this light, one under-
stands the Treaty of Lisbon as positing requirements for national par-
liaments in Article 12 EU.
The implications of this scheme are enormous. A transnational par-
liament can confer democratic legitimacy although it does not repre-
sent a people and does not fully live up to the principle of electoral
equality.32 Moreover, a governmental institution is also able to do so.
This contrasts sharply with national constitutional law. Even in federal
constitutions, the representative institutions of sub-national govern-
ments are rarely acknowledged to have a role in conferring democratic

Participant or Friend? The WTO and NAFTA Experience, Id., at 419 et seq.;
H. Ascensio, L’amicus curiae devant les juridictions internationales, 105 Revue géné-
rale de droit international public 897 (2001).
31
See below, section E. II. Lessons for the International Level.
32
On this latter point, in a critique of the Lisbon judgment of the German
Federal Constitutional Court see C. Schönberger, Die Europäische Union zwischen
“Demokratiedefizit” und Bundestaatsverbot, 48 Der Staat 535, at 548 et seq (2009).
 thoughts on international democracy1387

legitimacy.33 The idea of a unitary people is too strong. By contrast,

European executive federalism has its own democratic significance in
light of the Union’s democracy principle.34

II. Lessons for the International Level

The recent intellectual revival of concepts of global parliamentarism
can–as was the case in the EU–be interpreted as a reaction to the
perceived limits of democratic legitimation derived solely from the
representation of member states in international organizations.35
In comparison to the EU, however, the legitimacy question is even
more acute in international organizations, as many governmental rep-
resentatives fulfil their roles in the organization on behalf of autocratic
regimes which do not represent their peoples.36 In any event, executive
decision-making in intergovernmental organizations is increasingly
seen as lacking democratic legitimation.37
Calls for international parliamentary bodies in the international
legal debate are by no means a new phenomenon. The first differenti-
ated debates can be traced back to the time of the First World War
and the interwar period, during which a number of renowned inter­
national lawyers proposed to create global parliamentary bodies in
order to add a further layer of legitimacy to international decision-
making processes.38
Hitherto, two basic conceptions have dominated the debates about
the composition of such international parliamentary bodies. According
to the first model, a global parliament is supposed to consist of
representatives from national parliaments. The Inter-Parliamentary
Union (IPU) is often seen as a potential precursor to such a form of

33
A. Hanebeck, Der demokratische Bundesstaat des Grundgesetzes, at 199
et seq., 279 et seq., and 312 et seq. (2004).
34
In detail see Oeter and Dann, in: von Bogdandy/ J. Bast (note 6), at 55 and 237
resp.
35
R. Dahl, Can International Organizations be Democratic? A Skeptics View,
in: I. Shapiro/ C. Hacker Cordón (eds.), Democracy’ s Edges, at 19 (1999).
36
J.S. Nye Jr., Globalization’ s Democratic Defecit: How to Make International
Institutions More Accountable, 80 Foreign Affairs 2, at 3 (2001). On autocratic regimes
in this context see also P. Pettit, Legitimate International Institutions: A Neo-Republican
Perspective, in: Besson/ Tasioulas (note 16), 139, at 152 et seq.
37
H. Patomäki, Rethinking Global Parliament: Beyond the Indeterminacy of
International Law, 13 Widener Law Review 375, at 375 (2006–2007).
38
See section B. II. The Development at the International Level and in particular,
supra note 14.
1388 armin von bogdandy

transnational parliamentary assembly–a universal parliament of par-

liaments.39 Sectoral examples of this kind of international parliamenta-
rism can be found in the parliamentary assemblies of existing
international organizations, such as the Parliamentary Assembly of the
Council of Europe, the MERCOSUR Parliament, the Pan-African
Parliament of the African Union, the ASEAN Inter-Parliamentary
Assembly, or the parliamentary assemblies of NATO, the Council of
Europe, and the OSCE.40 In this version of international parliamenta-
rism, national elections remain the source of democratic legitimation.
Hence, the source of legitimation is ultimately identical to that claimed
by national governmental representatives when acting within interna-
tional institutions.41
The second scenario envisages a parliamentary body consisting
of members who either represent civil society organizations, or are
directly elected in innovative global election procedures by individual
human beings. This form of assembly, of which the European Parliament
is so far the only existing–albeit regional–emanation, certainly is the
more ambitious one. It was re-launched in the mid 1990s, around
the 50th anniversary of the United Nations, in various political cir-
cles.42 As to the international legal debate, Richard Falk and Andrew
Strauss in 2000 called for a “Global Peoples Assembly” with directly
elected representatives.43 In their view, the elections for the assembly
could as a first step be organized on an informal basis by a coalition
of NGOs and like-minded states, without the blessing of the state-
dominated system of international law. Once the established global
assembly had assumed an influential political role in world politics, it
could be legally institutionalized on the basis of a multilateral treaty.
In order to counter the argument that a global parliament
would either be dominated by few populous countries or grow to an

39
Arndt (note 13); Scelle (note 14), at 137–147.
40
With an analysis of the debate on the introduction of sectoral parliaments
at the WTO and the World Bank see M. Krajewski, Legitimizing Global Economic
Governance Through Transnational Parlamentarization: The Parliamentary Dimen­
sions of the WTO and the World Bank, 136 TranState Working Papers (2010).
41
The position of representatives of national parliaments in the national “chain of
legitimation”, however, is a privileged one, since they are the ones who have been
directly elected to represent the citizens of the national polis.
42
Kissling (note 14).
43
R. Falk/ A. Strauss, On the Creation of a Global Peoples Assembly: Legitimacy
and the Power of Popular Sovereignty, 36 Stanford Journal of International Law 191
(2000).
 thoughts on international democracy1389

­ nworkable size, many different apportionment formulae have been

u
developed since the late 1990s. Most of them rely on the size of the
population of a particular country and use complex mathematical cal-
culations and the principle of degressive proportionality. Thus, they
advance solutions to the problem of representation of all citizens of
the planet without marginalizing or excluding any region or country
of the world. Since a number of the apportionment models under dis-
cussion manage to mitigate this problem to some extent, they make
democratic representation through a global parliament at least theo-
retically possible.44 According to one of the models proposed by the
NGO “Committee for a Democratic UN”, which takes the world’s
nation states as a starting point for a (degressive) proportional appor-
tionment, the global parliament thus created would consist of
365 members, of whom China would have 86 representatives, the
United States 21, Germany 7, and Tuvalu 2.45
The perhaps more important question of what the functions and
competences of such a global parliament should look like in concrete
terms seems to have attracted somewhat less attention than the ques-
tion of its legitimizing value. Proposals range from full scale global leg-
islation to watchdog and veto functions for (other) UN organs. One of
the more innovative proposals constructs a role for a global parliament
in deciding controversial legal issues, such as conflicts between inter-
national human rights law and international economic law.46 In order
to oversee these political decisions of the global parliament, Heikki
Patomäki proposes a second (legal) chamber, which has a veto right
whenever the decisions of the parliament clearly go beyond what can
be justified through the interpretation of the current legal status quo.
This example serves to illustrate that there are innovative sugges-
tions for global parliamentary institutions out there, the best of
which go beyond the mere replication of institutions of existing liberal
democratic states. The question remains what proposals can gain the

44
With an overview of different models for the apportionment of seats in such a
body see Committee for a democratic U.N., Backgrounder October 2009.
45
Id., Annex, Model A. According to Model B of the Annex, if the criterion of a
particular nation’s contribution to the UN budget were to be added to the population-
based formula, China would have 48 representatives, the US 57, Germany 22 and
Tuvalu 2. In both models, the majority of the members of the assembly would
come from democratic states. On the issue of democratic equality see Schönberger
(note 32).
46
Patomäki (note 37).
1390 armin von bogdandy

necessary political momentum eventually to add a further layer of

legitimacy to international institutions. In the tradition of progressive
internationalism some experimentalism should be welcomed. Granted,
there is no certainty how to increase democratic representation within
international organizations. For that reason, soft law instruments
should be used in order to test ideas and stop experiments which, after
testing, fail to convince.

E. Transparency, Participation, Deliberation

and Flexibility

I. EU Law
The principle of democracy confronts greater challenges beyond the
state than it does within the nation-state context. With respect to the
EU, and this is only a regional organization, its sheer size and constitu-
tive diversity, the physical distance of the central institutions from most
of the Union’s citizens, and the complexity of those institutions are only
some of the factors which place greater restrictions on the realization
of the principle of democracy by way of electing representative institu-
tions. In light of this insight, further strategies for the realization of the
principle of democracy have received far greater attention than within
the national context. Yet, one important result of the discussion of the
last twenty years is that these further strategies can only complement,
not replace, parliamentarianism. Of particular significance are trans-
parency, the participation of those affected, deliberation and flexibility;
Article 11 EU reflects this.
The first issue, transparency of governmental action, that is its com-
prehensibility and the possibility of attributing accountability, is only
peripherally associated with the principle of democracy in the domes-
tic context. European constitutional law places itself at the forefront of
constitutional development when it requires that decisions be “taken as
openly as possible”, i.e., transparently. The specifically democratic
meaning of transparency in European law is confirmed by Article 11(1)
and (2) EU.
Transparency requires knowledge of the motives. From the begin-
ning, Community law has enshrined a duty to provide reasons even for
legislative acts (Article 296 TFEU), something which is hardly known
in national legal orders. This duty was first conceived primarily from
 thoughts on international democracy1391

the perspective of the rule of law,47 yet its relevance for the principle
of democracy has meanwhile come to enjoy general acknowledge-
ment.48 Access to documents, laid down in primary law in Article 15
TFEU and Article 42 Charter of Fundamental Rights, is also of great
importance to the realization of transparency. It has further become
the subject of a considerable body of case law.49 Another aspect is
the openness of the Council’s voting record on legislative measures:
Article 16(8) EU.50
The second complex concerns forms of political participation
beyond elections. Popular consultations appear to be an obvious instru-
ment, and referenda have occasionally been used to legitimize national
decisions on European issues (such as accession to the Union or the
ratification of amending Treaties). Extending such instruments to the
European level has been proposed for some time.51 The restrictively
designed citizens’ initiative of the Treaty of Lisbon (Article 11(4) EU)
falls short of this, but nevertheless shows some potential.52
Whereas the Union has no experience with popular consultations,
it has a lot of experience in allowing special interests to intervene in
the political process. Research indicates that such participation of
interested and affected parties might be a further avenue to realiz-
ing the democratic principle.53 Article 11(2) TEU-Lis is based on this
understanding. However, the principle of political equality must be
respected and participation has to be designed so as to avoid politi-
cal gridlock or the so-called agency capture by strong, organized
groups.

47
H. Scheffler, Die Pflicht zur Begründung von Maßnahmen nach den europäi­
schen Gemeinschaftsverträgen, at 44 et seq., and 66 et seq. (1974).
48
Case C-64/05 P Sweden v. Commission, 2007 ECR I-11389, paras. 54 and, 64.
49
J. Heliskoski/ P. Leino, Darkness at the Break of Noon, 43 Common Market
Law Review 735 (2006).
50
C. Sobotta, Transparenz in den Rechtsetzungsverfahren der Europäischen Union,
at 144 et seq. and 198 et seq. (2001).
51
H. Abromeit, Ein Vorschlag zur Demokratisierung des europäischen
Entscheidungssystems, 39 Politische Vierteljahresschrift 80 (1998); J. Habermas,
Ach, Europa, at 105 (2008).
52
A. Epiney, Europäische Verfassung und Legitimation durch die Unionsbürger,
in: S. Kadelbach (ed.), Europäische Verfassung und direkte Demokratie, 33, at 46
et seq. (2006).
53
B. Kohler-Koch, The Organization of Interests and Democracy, in: Kohler-Koch/
Rittberger (note 19), at 255.
1392 armin von bogdandy

Moreover, making the Union more flexible is of democratic rele-

vance.54 It allows a democratic national majority to be respected with-
out, however, permitting this national majority, which is a European
minority, to frustrate the will of the European majority. However,
there are difficult questions of competitive equality in the internal mar-
ket as well as of guaranteeing democratic transparency in an ever more
complex decision-making process.55 Also, the possibility of leaving
the Union, as foreseen in Article 50 EU, serves the democratic princi-
ple, since it upholds the prospect of national self-determination in
the event that the dominance of the Union should appear to be by ille-
gitimate heteronomy.56

II. Lessons for the International Level

Developing similar strategies for the enhancement of democratic legit-
imacy beyond elections has constituted the object of much debate at
the international level in recent years.57 This is owing to a common
understanding that operative parliamentarian institutions are very dif-
ficult to achieve on a global scale, while the democratic deficit of public
authority exercised by transnational actors demands a response.58
Such strategies are being advanced most visibly by the Global
Administrative Law (GAL), an emerging field of research which con-
ceptualizes global governance as regulatory administration, which can
be organized and shaped by principles of an administrative law charac-
ter.59 This strand of thinking rests on the assumption that administra-
tions can build their proper democratic legitimacy beyond the one
conveyed by the legal foundations of its institution and operation.

54
D. Thym, Supranationale Ungleichzeitigkeit im Recht der europäischen
Integration, 5 Europarecht 637 (2006).
55
J. Wouters, Constitutional Limits of Differentiation, in: B. de Witte et al. (eds.),
The Many Faces of Differentiation in EU Law, 299, at 301 (2001).
56
J.-V. Louis, Le droit de retrait de l’Union européenne, 42 Cahiers de Droit
Européen 293 (2006).
57
For a sample of different visions for implementing global democracy see
D. Archibugi et al., Global Democracy: A Symposium on a New Political Hope,
32 New Political Science 83 (2010).
58
T. Macdonald/ R. Marchetti, Symposium on Global Democracy, Introduction,
24 Ethics & International Affairs 13, at 13 (2010); S. Chesterman, Globalization Rules:
Accountability, Power, and the Prospects for Global Administrative Law, 14 Global
Governance 39, at 50 (2008).
59
B. Kingsbury et al., The Emergence of Global Administrative Law, 68 Law and
Contemporary Problems 1 (2005); S. Cassese et al. (eds.), Global Administrative Law:
Cases, Materials, Issues (2nd ed. 2008).
 thoughts on international democracy1393

The answer to the pertinent question of how to rein in regulatory

administration, whether exercised through formal international organ-
izations, hybrid or private arrangements, is thus sought in a “law of
transparency, participation, review, and above all accountability in
global governance”.60 While administrative law cannot fully compen-
sate for the lack of a direct, electoral chain of legitimacy in inter­national
decision-making, establishing procedures that ensure transparency,
knowledge of motives, and the participation of affected individuals is
thought to promote accountable and hence democratic governance at
the supranational level.61 This conceptual framework allows for tapping
extensively on the European experience. In this light, the EU, the
OECD, the WHO, and the WTO are conceived in the light of US regu-
latory agencies.
The comprehensive discourse about enhancing the legitimacy of the
exercise of public authority beyond the nation state provides a rich rep-
ertory of concepts and principles, wherein transparency and participa-
tion can be considered key factors for alleviating the perceived
democratic deficit and holding international institutions to account.62
Transparency is fundamental to informed civic participation as a
potential source of legitimacy, as it means providing access to informa-
tion and opening up decision-making processes and procedures to
public scrutiny.63 Many international organizations have already
responded to the mounting criticism of secretiveness by adopting dis-
closure policies.64 Recently, the World Bank released a revised policy
on access to information which was developed in close collaboration
with civil society organizations, established clear request mechanisms,

60
See the website of the Global Administrative Law Project, concept and working
definition, http://www.iilj.org/GAL/GALworkingdefinition.asp. Global Administrative
Law is seen as “encompassing the legal mechanisms, principles, and practices, along
with supporting social understandings, that promote or otherwise affect the account-
ability of global administrative bodies, in particular by ensuring these bodies meet
adequate standards of transparency, consultation, participation, rationality, and legal-
ity, and by providing effective review of the rules and decisions these bodies make.”
61
D.C. Esty, Good Governance at the Supranational Scale. Globalizing
Administrative Law, 115 The Yale Law Journal 1490, at 1495 (2006).
62
See, for example, A. Grigorescu, Transparency of Intergovernmental Organi­
zations: The Roles of Member States, International Bureaucracies and Nongovernmental
Organizations, 51 International Studies Quarterly 625 (2007).
63
Esty (note 61), at 1530.
64
Alasdair Roberts questions that a true “transparency revolution” has taken place,
where conventions of diplomatic confidentiality still persist in access to information
policies. A. Roberts, A Partial Revolution: The Diplomatic Ethos and Transparency in
Intergovernmental Organizations, 64 Public Administration Review 410, at 411 (2004).
1394 armin von bogdandy

and opened up new categories of routinely disclosed information to the

general public.65
In this context, the idea of representation of affected interests of
individuals in or vis à vis international institutions through NGOs has
become an important strand in conceptualizing more legitimate rule-
making and enforcement at the international level. Two political devel-
opments in the 1990s had triggered the conceptual focus on NGO
participation. Firstly, the successful role of NGOs in international
treaty making, for instance in the Ottawa process to ban landmines and
in the elaboration of the Rome Statute, and secondly, the critical role
NGO networks assumed in organizing protests against political pro-
jects run by international economic institutions, such as the OECD in
the context of the multilateral investment treaty project and the WTO
(Seattle).66 Based on these developments, the power of a globally oper-
ating civil society to politicize international institutions has been iden-
tified by many authors as a potential source of democratic legitimacy,67
be it through processes of scandalization68 or through more participa-
tory forms of involvement of civil society in global institutions.69 The
democratic potential of both approaches has its own limits, as many
authors have pointed out. Globally organized and media driven pro-
tests against particular political events do not as such create a sustain-
able global public sphere,70 and the involvement of NGOs in deliberative
institutional settings does not as such create democratically legitimated
political decisions of global institutions.71 Despite their beneficial role

65
World Bank, Towards Greater Transparency through Access to Information.
The World Bank’s Disclosure Policy (2009).
66
G. Metzges, NGO-Kampagnen und ihr Einfluss auf internationale Verhandlungen.
Das Multilateral Agreement on Investment (MAI) und die 1997 OECD Anti-Bribery
Convention im Vergleich (2006).
67
M. Zürn, Global Governance as an Emergent Political Order – The Role of
Transnational Non-Governmental Organizations, in: G.F. Schuppert (ed.), Global
governance and the role of non-state actors, 31 (2006).
68
H. Brunkhorst, Globalizing Democracy without a State, 31 Millennium Journal
of International Studies 675 (2002); Habermas (note 24), at 139–140.
69
M. Dorf/ C.F. Sabel, A Constitution of Democratic Constitutionalism, 98 Colum­
bia Law Review 267 (1998); R. Schmalz-Bruns, Deliberativer Supranationalismus.
Demokratisches Regieren jenseits des Nationalstaates, 6 Zeitschrift für Internationale
Beziehungen 185 (1999).
70
M. Kettner/ M.L. Schneider, Öffentlichkeit und entgrenzter politischer
Handlungsraum: Der Traum von der “Weltöffentlichkeit” und die Lehren des europäis-
chen Publizitätsproblems, in: H. Brunkhorst/ M. Kettner (eds.), Globalisierung und
Demokratie. Wirtschaft, Recht, Medien, 369 (2000).
71
W.E. Scheuermann, Democratic Experimentalism or Capitalist Synchronisation?
Critical Reflections on Directly-Deliberative Polyarchy, 17 Canadian Journal of Law
and Jurisprudence 101 (2004).
 thoughts on international democracy1395

in making international politics more transparent, pluralistic and

politically accountable, the democratic potential of NGO participation
is limited by the glaring dominance of Western NGOs in international
fora, their own problems of democratic accountability, and the strate-
gic and power-oriented institutional contexts in which they operate.72
Keeping this in mind, many of the innovations developed within the
EU might serve to increase the accountability and hence the demo-
cratic credentials of international organizations.

F. Outlook: On the Crucial Role of

Domestic Institutions

The democratic legitimation of decisions by organizations of public

authority is not easy to improve, once state consent has worn thin.
Nothing proves this point better than the EU: in the face of many insti-
tutional innovations with this aim, questions remain. No solutions are
readily available to allay all concerns. Strategies in response must be
spelled out and it remains to be seen how they stand the test of practice
and what legitimatory effect they will actually be able to achieve. It is
beyond doubt that the increasing authority of international institutions
constitutes a grand achievement. However, it is paralleled by a sense of
discomfort springing from the thought that, as of now, international
institutions may not always satisfy well-founded expectations of legiti-
mation, even if one accepts that these institutions can and often do
operate to enhance democracy globally.73
The resulting tension may be relaxed by holding up the political and
legal responsibility that municipal constitutional organs retain in
deciding about the effect of international decisions, and by bearing

72
With an analysis of the preconditions of enhanced democratic legitimation by
strengthening the awareness for international regulation in national public spheres
through NGO involvement at the global level see J. von Bernstorff, Zivilgesellschaftliche
Partizipation in Internationalen Organisationen: Form globaler Demokratie oder
Baustein westlicher Expertenherrschaft?, in: H. Brunkhorst (ed.), Demokratie in der
Weltgesellschaft, 18 Soziale Welt (Sonderband) 277 (2009).
73
These aspects are forcefully presented by R.O. Keohane et al., Democracy-
Enhancing Multilateralism, 63 International Organization 1 (2009); R. Wolfrum,
Legitimacy of International Law and the Exercise of Administrative Functions:
The Example of the International Seabed Authority, the International Maritime
Organization (IMO) and International Fisheries Organizations, in: A. von Bogdandy
et al. (eds.), The Exercise of Public Authority by International Institutions. Advancing
International Institutional Law (2010).
1396 armin von bogdandy

in mind how they, in turn, can feed back into developments on the
international level.74
From a legal point of view, this means that the effect of international
law in general and of decisions by international institutions in particu-
lar is determined by constitutional law—in the case of Germany, the
yardstick would be the Basic Law and the primary law of the European
Union.75 Consequently, international decisions generally have no direct
effect in municipal legal orders, but are mediated by the municipal
legal system.76 In the present state of international law, the possibility
should exist for decisions about the effect of international acts to be
made on the basis of the municipal legal order, at least in liberal democ-
racies and to the extent that the international norm or decision severely
conflicts with domestic constitutional principles. At the same time,
constitutional organs need to make plausible and justify why it is that
they deny direct effect or, more precisely, why and how conflicts with
constitutional principles lead them towards non-compliance with
international law. Their disencumbering role may hence positively feed
into processes of international law’s development because they not
only control the effects of international decisions within their legal
order, but also formulate standards for their assessment which may
inspire further developments in the international legal order.77 It should
be stressed that non-compliance triggers heavy argumentative bur-
dens. Domestic organs should consider the consequences of their deci-
sions for the international legal order, as non-compliance may damage
broader processes of legalization and could stress constitutional princi-
ples such as the rule of law and a general openness towards interna-
tional law.

74
R. Howse/ K. Nicolaïdis, Democracy without Sovereignty: The Global Vocation
of Political Ethics, in: T. Broude/ Y. Shany (eds.), The Shifting Allocation of Authority
in International Law: Considering Sovereignty, Supremacy and Subsidiarity 163
(2008).
75
To be clear, I consider the ECJ to be a court with a constitutional function acting
within a European constitutional order. In detail see A. von Bogdandy/ J. Bast, The
Constitutional Approach to EU Law—From Taming Intergovernmental Relationships
to Framing Political Processes, in: von Bogdandy/ Bast (note 6), 1.
76
In detail see A. von Bogdandy, Pluralism, Direct Effect, and the Ultimate Say:
On the Relationship between International and Domestic Constitutional Law,
6 International Journal of Constitutional Law 397 (2008).
77
Case C-93/02 P, Établissements Biret et Cie SA v. Council, 2003 ECR I-10497;
Joined Cases C-402/05 P & 415/05 P, Kadi & Al Barakaat v. Council & Comm’n, 2008
ECR I-6351 (also following this logic).
 thoughts on international democracy1397

The fact that domestic constitutional organs retain a say in the effect
and implementation of international decisions frees the international
legal order from legitimatory burdens that it may not always be in a
position to shoulder. The interplay between levels of governance opens
up yet another strategy of maintaining the possibilities of democratic
government in the post-national constellation. This approach does not
provide an obstacle to the further development of international law.
Quite the contrary, relieving international law from some of the bur-
dens of legitimation may actually subserve its progressive develop-
ment,78 of which Rüdiger Wolfrum has been and hopefully will continue
to be a protagonist.

78
A. Watts, Codification and Progressive Development of International Law, in:
Wolfrum (note 9).
 Private Normunternehmer im Völkerrecht:
Gedanken zur Fortentwicklung des Völkerrechts
durch nicht-staatliche Institutionen

Michael Bothe

A. Die Problemstellung

Art. 38 IGH-Statut gilt immer noch als eine Art offizielle Rechtsquel-
lenlehre. Nur sagt er sehr wenig darüber, wie Völkerrecht in der Rechts-
wirklichkeit entsteht und sich weiter entwickelt. Das hat der Jubilar in
seinen Arbeiten vielfältig gezeigt,1 er hat auch vielfach an der Rechts-
entwicklung mitgewirkt. Der vorliegende Beitrag hat sich einen Aus-
schnitt aus dieser Problematik vorgenommen, nämlich das Wirken
gewisser nicht-staatlicher Einrichtungen bei der Entstehung und
Fortentwicklung des Völkerrechts. Art. 38 führt die Entstehung von
Völkerrecht auf Willensäußerungen und Praxis von Staaten zurück.
Die Verträge, die Art. 38 nennt, werden von Staaten geschlossen. Die
Praxis und Rechtsüberzeugung, aus der Gewohnheitsrecht entsteht, ist
die Praxis von Staaten. So jedenfalls sehen es die traditionelle Doktrin2
und auch die Aussagen des IGH.3 „Staaten“ in diesem Sinne meint
den Staatsapparat. Für Willenserklärungen, die völkerrechtliche Ver-
pflichtungen schaffen, ist noch enger eingegrenzt, welches die relevan-
ten Erscheinungsformen des Staates sind: Es sind dazu besonders
bevollmächtigte Organe4, die Organe des völkerrechtlichen Verkehrs,
bestimmte Träger auswärtiger Gewalt. Für die Entwicklung des
Gewohnheitsrechts setzen auch andere Organe, insbesondere Legisla-
tive und Judikative, Akte, die völkerrechtlich staatliche Praxis und
Rechtsüberzeugung darstellen. Internationale Organisationen haben

1
R. Wolfrum, Introduction, in: R. Wolfrum/V. Röben (Hrsg.), Developments of
International Law in Treaty Making, 1–13 (2005).
2
Ganz im Sinne der traditionellen Lehre der Bericht des ILA-Ausschusses: ILA,
Committee on Formation of Customary (General) International Law, Report of the
Sixty-Ninth Conference, London, 712–777 (2000).
3
Nachweise bei A. Pellet, Art. 38, Rn. 209, in: A. Zimmermann/C. Tomuschat/
K. Oellers-Frahm (Hrsg.), The Statute of the International Court of Justice (2006).
4
Art. 7 WÜV.
1400 michael bothe

in diesem Rechtsquellensystem im Wesentlichen durch die Anerken-

nung von Delegation einen Platz: Sie können Völkerrecht schaffen,
wenn und soweit sie durch Staaten-Verträge dazu ermächtigt sind.
Internationale Gerichte treffen verbindliche Entscheidungen im Ein-
zelfall, wenn und soweit sie durch Staaten-Verträge dazu ermächtigt
sind.
Bei genauerem Hinsehen zeigt sich jedoch, dass neues Völkerrecht
in vielfältiger Weise von nicht-staatlichen Institutionen und Gremien
formuliert und dass diese Formulierungen geltendes Recht werden.
Das ist, wie zu zeigen sein wird, eine verbreitete Praxis, die auch auf
eine längere Tradition zurückblicken kann. Das Monopol der Staatsor-
gane bei der Rechtserzeugung, das die traditionelle Rechtsquellenlehre
postuliert, entspricht nicht der Realität. Nicht-staatliche Einrichtungen
nehmen bewusst und gezielt gestaltenden Einfluss. In diesem Sinne
kann man sie als private Normunternehmer bezeichnen.5 Aus diesem
verbreiteten Phänomen6 können hier nur einige Beispiele herausge-
griffen werden. Sie betreffen unterschiedliche Rechtsbereiche: allge-
meine Regeln des Völkerrechts, Umweltrecht und das Recht bewaffneter
Konflikte.
Nicht-staatlich im Sinne der folgenden Ausführungen sind solche
Einrichtungen und Gremien, die nicht zu diesem Gefüge staatlich
gestalteter Rechtserzeugung gehören. Das können im Einzelfall durch-
aus Staatenvertreter sein, nur handeln diese dann nicht im Rahmen der
staatlich gestalteten Rechtserzeugungsverfahren im genannten Sinne.

B. Die Beispiele

Im Bereich des allgemeinen Völkerrechts ist zunächst die International

Law Commission (ILC) zu erwähnen. Sie ist zwar von Staatenvertre-
tern im Rahmen der UN gewählt, besitzt aber keine ihr etwa delegier-
ten Befugnisse zur Rechtssetzung. Sie ist damit eben nicht Bestandteil
des Systems staatlich gestalteter Rechtserzeugung. Ihre Ergebnisse

5
Vgl. I. Venzke, On Words and Deeds. How the Practice of Legal Interpretation
Develops International Norms, im Erscheinen.
6
Zu einigen anderen Aspekten dieses Phänomens vgl. E. Riedel, The Development
of International Law: Alternatives to Treaty-Making? International Organizations and
Non-State Actors, in: Wolfrum/Röben (Fn. 1), 301–318; S. Hobe, The Role of Non-
State Actors, in Particular of NGOs, in Non-Contractual Law-Making and the Deve-
lopment of Customary International Law, in: Wolfrum/Röben (Fn. 1), 319–329.
 private normunternehmer im völkerrecht1401

werden meist durch dieses System dadurch übernommen, dass sie

Grundlage von Vertragstexten werden. Es gibt aber auch Fälle, wo eben
dies nicht der Fall ist. Ein Beispiel sind die Regeln zur Staatenverant-
wortlichkeit, die jedenfalls bislang nicht zu einem Vertrag geführt
haben, und es ist gegenwärtig nicht abzusehen, ob das jemals geschieht.7
Dennoch wird kaum bestritten, dass die Formulierung dieser Regeln
ein Beitrag zur Entwicklung (im Sinne einer Verdeutlichung) des
Rechts ist. Aber warum?
Auch wissenschaftliche Institutionen und Projekte spielen eine
Rolle bei der Entwicklung des Völkerrechts. Besonderes Gewicht
kommt dabei dem Institut de droit international zu. Aus der jüngsten
Zeit sind zu nennen die Arbeiten zum Gewaltverbot.8
Universitäre Projekte können ebenfalls Rechtsentwicklung ansto-
ßen oder prägen. Ein Beispiel ist der 1935 veröffentlichte Harvard-
Entwurf zum Recht der völkerrechtlichen Verträge,9 der die weitere
Entwicklung stark beeinflusst hat.
Ein weiteres Beispiel aus dem Bereich des allgemeinen Völkerrechts
sind die von der International Law Association (ILA) erarbeiteten
Regeln über die Verantwortlichkeit (accountability) internationaler
Organisationen.10 Hier handelt es sich um das Produkt einer zweifellos
privaten Organisation, das aber auch als wichtiger Beitrag zur Ent-
wicklung des Völkerrechts gesehen wird.
Im Umweltrecht ist der ILA jedenfalls einmal ein großer Wurf
gelungen. Dies sind die sog. Helsinki Rules über gemeinsame Wasser-
ressourcen,11 von denen alsbald allgemein anerkannt wurde, dass sie
völkerrechtliches Gewohnheitsrecht darstellen.12 Sie gaben die ent-
scheidende Orientierung für die späteren Regelungstexte zu diesem
Problem, die Draft Articles on the Law of Non-Navigational Uses of
International Watercourses der ILC von 199413 sowie die gleichnamige

    7
Der Text wurde von der Generalversammlung lediglich „zur Kenntnis genom-
men“ durch Resolution 56/83 vom 12. Dezember 2001.
    8
 E. Roucounas, Problèmes actuels du recours à la force en droit international–
Légitime défense, 72 Annuaire de l’Institut de droit international, Session de Santiago
2007, Resolution vom 27. Oktober 2007.
    9
29 AJIL, Suppl. 653–665 (1935).
10
Accountability of International Organizations, Committee Report, ILA, Report of
the Seventy-first Conference, Berlin, 164–234 (2004).
11
ILA, Report of the Fifty-second Conference, Helsinki, 485 (1966).
12
 U. Beyerlin, Umweltvölkerrecht, 84 (2000).
13
Yearbook of the International Law Commission, Vol. II, Part 2, 89–134 (1994).
1402 michael bothe

UN-Konvention von 1997.14 Ein gleicher Erfolg war späteren Erklä-

rungen der ILA nicht beschieden, wenngleich einige von ihnen sich
doch erheblicher Anerkennung erfreuen.15
Ein wesentlicher Anwendungsbereich des hier untersuchten Phäno-
mens ist das Recht bewaffneter Konflikte. In diesem Bereich hat sich
nicht-staatliche Formulierung von Regeln und Ausarbeitung völker-
rechtlicher Verträge immer wieder abgelöst. Heute bestehen erhebliche
Probleme, doch scheint ihre Lösung im Wege neuer Vertragsverhand-
lungen politisch verschlossen. Die Probleme bedürfen wohl auch nicht
so sehr neuer Regeln als vielmehr der Verdeutlichung bestehender
Regeln in ihrer Anwendung auf neue Problemfälle.
Traditionell hatte in diesem Bereich das Institut de droit internatio-
nal große Bedeutung. Es hat schon in den frühen Jahren seiner Exis-
tenz Wegweisendes zum Recht der bewaffneten Konflikte formuliert,
so das berühmte Oxford Manual (The Laws of War on Land) 188016
und das Oxford Manual of Naval War (The Laws of Naval War Gover-
ning the Relations between Belligerents) 1913.17 Diese Führungsrolle
haben andere Institutionen übernommen.
Ein zentraler Akteur in diesem Bereich ist das Internationale Komi-
tee vom Roten Kreuz (IKRK), von dem traditionell Initiativen zu neuen
vertraglichen Regelungen stammen.18 Nachdem dieser Weg nun ver-
schlossen ist, versuchte das IKRK verschiedene Wege, um die rechtli-
che Entwicklung in die als richtig empfundene Richtung zu steuern.
Dabei bediente es sich regelmäßig Expertengruppen, die ihre Auffas-
sung in Berichten dokumentierten.19
Ein Großunternehmen in diesem Zusammenhang wurde die sog.
Gewohnheitsrechtsstudie.20 Sie beruht auf einem Auftrag, den die

14
36 International Legal Materials (ILM), 700 ff. (1997).
15
 Es handelt sich um Texte zur grenzüberschreitenden Luft- und Gewässerver-
schmutzung, Texte bei H. Hohmann, Basic Documents of International Environmen-
tal Law, Band 1, 235 ff. (1992).
16
Abgedruckt in D. Schindler/J. Toman, The Laws of Armed Conflicts, 29 (4. Aufl.
2004).
17
Abgedruckt in Schindler/Toman (Fn. 16), 1123.
18
Zur Vorgeschichte der verschiedenen Revisionen der Genfer Konventionen
J. Pictet, Les Conventions de Genève du 12 août 1949, Commentaire, Band 1, 10 ff.
(1952); zur Vorbereitung der Zusatzprotokolle von 1977 vgl. M. Bothe, in: M. Bothe/
K. J. Partsch/W. A. Solf (Hrsg.), New Rules for Victims of Armed Conflicts, 2 ff. (1982).
19
Die jüngste dieser Expertengruppen betrifft das Recht der kriegerischen Beset-
zung, Bericht im Erscheinen.
20
J.-M. Henckaerts/L. Doswald-Beck, Customary International Humanitarian Law,
Vol. II (2005).
 private normunternehmer im völkerrecht1403

­ otkreuzkonferenz 1996 dem IKRK erteilte. Zur Durchführung orga-

R
nisierte das IKRK ein umfangreiches Expertennetzwerk, das in einem
langwierigen Prozess relevante staatliche Praxis und einschlägige
Äußerungen internationaler Organisationen sammelte und daraus
dann Schlüsse für das Bestehen oder Nichtbestehen von Gewohnheits-
recht in weiten Bereichen des humanitären Völkerrechts zog. Das
Ergebnis wurde in einer umfangreichen Studie veröffentlicht. Zwei
Kernergebnisse sind: Erstens: Der Inhalt des Zusatzprotokolls zu den
Genfer Abkommen vom 12. August 1949 über den Schutz der Opfer
internationaler bewaffneter Konflikte (ZP I) ist im Wesentlichen Völ-
kergewohnheitsrecht geworden. Zweitens: Die Regeln des in nicht
internationalen Konflikten geltenden Rechts haben sich zum großen
Teil, aber nicht vollständig denen angeglichen, die im internationalen
Konflikt gelten. Allerdings hat die Studie einige wesentliche Fragen des
Gewohnheitsrechts nicht außer Streit stellen können. Vielmehr hat
sich an den Aussagen der Studie Streit entzündet. Das geht soweit, dass
die U.S.-Regierung zu wesentlichen Punkten in einem gemeinsamen
Schreiben der Rechtsberater des State Department und des Depart-
ment of Defence eine offizielle Gegenposition bezog.21
Wurde die Gewohnheitsrechtsstudie in der Weise organisiert, dass
sie ein international sehr breit gestreutes Expertenwissen zusammen-
führte und das Ergebnis sich als reine Expertenarbeit darstellte, die
unter der Leitung zweier ausgewählter Experten herausgegeben wurde,
hat das IKRK in anderen Fragen auch andere Wege gewählt. Die
Klärung der für das moderne Recht bewaffneter Konflikte zentralen
Frage, was denn „unmittelbare Beteiligung an Kampfhandlungen“
bedeutet, unternahm das IKRK zunächst dadurch, dass es zusammen
mit einer renommierten wissenschaftlichen Institution eine Experten-
gruppe einberief, deren Zusammensetzung unter dem Gesichtspunkt
der regionalen Verteilung und der vertretenen unterschiedlichen Inte-
ressen sehr breit gestreut war. Das Ergebnis dieser Arbeiten sind aller-
dings Leitlinien, „Guidelines“, die nicht den Konsens der Experten
darstellen, sondern eigene Schlussfolgerungen des IKRK aus den
Beratungen der Experten. Das Verfahren hat zu nicht unerheblichem
Streit geführt, der durchaus geeignet ist, die Autorität der Guidelines
zu schwächen. Die Stärke dieses Ansatzes besteht aber sicher darin,

21
Sog. Bellinger/Haynes Letter, 89 International Review of the Red Cross (IRRC)
443–471 (2007); die Antwort der Verfasser der Studie Id., 473–488.
1404 michael bothe

dass in umstrittenen Fragen klare Ergebnisse formuliert werden, für

die eine Konsenslösung gerade nicht erreichbar war.
Auch private Institutionen haben sich der Kodifizierung des Rechts
bewaffneter Konflikte in Fragen gewidmet, die bei den Vertragsschlüs-
sen der letzten Jahrzehnte ausgespart blieben. Sehr erfolgreich ist die
Arbeit des Institute of International Humanitarian Law in San Remo,
insbesondere mit seiner Arbeit zum Seekriegsrecht. Das ist die Arbeit
einer internationalen Expertengruppe, die Konsens gesucht und gefun-
den hat.22
Ähnlich ist das Projekt des „Program on Humanitarian Policy and
Conflict Research“ von Harvard über Air and Missile Warfare vorge-
gangen.23 Die erarbeiteten Regeln sind das Ergebnis des Konsenses der
Experten, die aus durchaus unterschiedlichen „Lagern“ kamen. Ledig-
lich der Kommentar zu den Regeln wurde nach der Beratung durch
die Expertengruppe allein in der Verantwortung des HPCR erstellt.
In der letzten Phase der Arbeiten haben die Organisatoren weltweit
die Auffassung von Regierungen erfragt und in die Beratungen einge-
bracht. Die Ergebnisse beruhen also auf einem sehr breiten Konsens.
An entscheidenden Stellen merkt man den Regeln allerdings ihren
Kompromisscharakter an.

C. Das Problem der Legitimation

Verschiedene Rechtsordnungen haben unterschiedliche Regeln über

Rechtsquellen, d.h. darüber, wie das Recht in dieser Rechtsordnung
entsteht. Für das Völkerrecht bietet Art. 38 des IGH-Statuts einen
wichtigen Ausschnitt aus diesen Regeln. Er scheint das Monopol
der Staatsorgane bei der Rechtserzeugung zu stützen.24 Hinter diesen
rechtstechnischen Regeln steht jedoch eine Grundvoraussetzung für
die Rechtsgeltung, die eher im Bereich der Rechtstheorie, der Rechts-
soziologie oder auch, da es sich um ein historisches Phänomen han-
delt, in dem der Rechtsgeschichte einzuordnen ist: Recht bedarf
für seine Geltung einer Legitimation. Vor diesem Hintergrund wird

22
International Institute of Humanitarian Law, San Remo Manual on International
Law Applicable to Armed Conflicts at Sea (1994). Zu erwähnen ist ferner ein ebensol-
ches Dokument dieses Instituts zum nicht-internationalen bewaffneten Konflikt.
23
HPCR, Manual on International Law Applicable to Air and Missile Warfare, 15.
Mai 2009, abrufbar unter http://www.ihlresearch.org/amw/manual.
24
Hobe (Fn. 6), 328.
 private normunternehmer im völkerrecht1405

gegenwärtig eine intensive Diskussion um Legitimität in der internati-

onalen Ordnung geführt.25 Hintergrund der Debatte ist die Frage, wie
in einer komplexer werdenden internationalen Ordnung die Akzep-
tanz von Rechtsregeln, die Voraussetzung ihrer Befolgung und damit
Grundlage für das Funktionieren dieser Ordnung ist, sicher gestellt
werden kann. Die technischen Regeln über Rechtsquellen halten dafür
nur begrenzt hinreichend überzeugende Antworten bereit.
Auf einer hohen Abstraktionsebene wird Legitimität in der Dichoto-
mie Zustimmung (Selbstverpflichtung) und Autorität vermittelt. Die
Frage ist dann nur, was Formen der rechtlich bindenden Selbstver-
pflichtung sind und woher sich Autorität ableitet. Darum geht es in der
folgenden Analyse für die hier untersuchten Einrichtungen und Gre-
mien. Dies bietet die Grundlage für den Versuch der Einordnung des
untersuchten Phänomens in die Rechtsquellenlehre.

D. Legitimation durch Interessenausgleich–

das Verfahren (1)

Legitimation führt zu Akzeptanz. Inhaltlich erfreuen sich solche

Regeln hoher Akzeptanz, in denen die Adressaten ihre Interessen gut
aufgehoben sehen. Diese an sich banale Erkenntnis hat eine Reihe
praktisch relevanter Konsequenzen im Verfahren der hier dargestellten
Gremien.
Der erste wesentliche Punkt ist die Zusammensetzung der beraten-
den Gremien. Es ist darauf zu achten und wird darauf geachtet, dass
möglichst Experten aus allen Regionen der Welt vertreten sind–nicht
immer ganz einfach, da die einschlägigen fachlichen Ressourcen nicht
überall auf der Welt in gleichem Maße reichlich vorhanden sind.
Zwei heute für das humanitäre Völkerrecht besonders bedeutsame

25
Grundlegend T. M. Franck, The Power of Legitimacy among Nations (1990);
siehe ferner T. M. Franck, The Power of Legitimacy and the Legitimacy of Power, 100
AJIL 88–106 (2006); J.-M. Coicaud/V. Heiskanen (Hrsg.), The Legitimacy of Internati-
onal Organizations (2001); R. Wolfrum, Legitimacy in International Law, in: Liber
Amicorum H. Neuhold, 471–482 (2007); R. Wolfrum, Legitimacy of International Law
and the Exercise of Administrative Functions: The Example of the International Seabed
Authority, the International Maritime Organization (IMO) and International Fisheries
Organizations, in: A. v. Bogdandy/R. Wolfrum/J. v. Bernstorff/P. Dann/M. Goldmann
(Hrsg.), The Exercise of Public Authority by International Institutions, 917–940 (2010);
A. v. Bogdandy, Lawmaking by International Organizations. Some Thoughts on
Non-binding Instruments and Democratic Legitimacy, in: Wolfrum/Röben (Fn. 1),
171–182.
1406 michael bothe

I­nstitutionen, nämlich das International Institute of Humanitarian

Law in San Remo und das IKRK verfügen über Netzwerke, die es erlau-
ben, Expertengremien einzuberufen, die eine hinreichende geographi-
sche Verteilung gewährleisten. Auch die internationalen Ausschüsse
der ILA pflegen heute Personen aus unterschiedlichen geographischen
Bereichen zu vereinen. Dagegen war das Expertengremium zu den
Regeln über Air and Missile Warfare26 fast ausschließlich aus Personen
aus Nordamerika und Europa zusammengesetzt, was allerdings am
Ende der Arbeiten durch ein weltweit organisiertes Konsultationsver-
fahren mit Regierungen kompensiert wurde.
Es kommt allerdings nicht nur auf die regionale Verteilung der
Beteiligung an, sondern auch darauf, ob und wie gewisse Interessen in
den beratenden Gremien vertreten sind. In dem Bereich des Rechts
bewaffneter Konflikte kann ein Instrument, das ohne Beteiligung mili-
tärischer Sachkunde ausgearbeitet wird, nicht auf die Akzeptanz gerade
der Akteure rechnen, die die entsprechenden Regeln anwenden sollen.
Allerdings ist auch die Akzeptanz für einen größeren Kreis von Akteu-
ren wichtig. Deshalb muss auch militär-kritische Expertise, insbeson-
dere solche aus dem Bereich von Organisationen zur Verteidigung der
Menschenrechte, einbezogen werden. Besondere Probleme stellt dieser
Gesichtspunkt bei der Beteiligung von Experten aus dem akademi-
schen Bereich. Es wäre unrealistisch, ihnen einfach eine Interessen-
neutralität zuzubilligen. Ihre Interessenpräferenzen, gelegentlich auch
ihre Interessenneutralität sind bekannt, vor allem aus Publikationen.
Die soeben genannten Gesichtspunkte gewähren einem Normun-
ternehmer einen gewissen Gestaltungsspielraum. Er kann durch die
Auswahl der Personen, die an Beratungsgremien mitwirken, von vorn-
herein einen gewissen Einfluss auf die zu erwartenden Ergebnisse der
Beratungen nehmen. Allerdings: je stärker er dabei bestimmte Interes-
sen übergeht, um so stärker wird die Akzeptanz leiden.
Wichtig für die Akzeptanz ist aber auch, dass nicht nur unterschied-
liche Interessen in dem beratenden Gremium vertreten sind, sondern
dass in der Formulierung der Ergebnisse diese unterschiedlichen Inte-
ressen auch wirklich reflektiert werden. Dabei kommt es darauf an, ob
das Ergebnis einen Konsens widerspiegelt oder ob die das Gremium
einberufende Institution sich die Freiheit vorbehält, in der Beratung
geäußerte Meinungen zu berücksichtigen oder auch nicht. Ein Beispiel
für dieses Problem ist die Expertengruppe, die das IKRK und das

26
Fn. 23.
 private normunternehmer im völkerrecht1407

Asser-Institut gemeinsam zum Studium des Problems der unmittelba-

ren Beteiligung an Kampfhandlungen eingesetzt haben, eines zentra-
len Begriffs des modernen humanitären Völkerrechts, von dem
schwierige Entscheidungen hinsichtlich der Zulässigkeit der Bekämp-
fung bestimmter Personen abhängen, also ein militärisch sehr sensib-
ler Fragenkreis. War die Zusammensetzung des beratenden Gremiums
durchaus auf die Vertretung sehr unterschiedlicher Interessen ausge-
legt, so hatte das IKRK doch von vornherein klar gemacht, dass es frei
sein würde, Ergebnisse zu übernehmen oder nicht. Der Schlussbericht
nahm denn auch deutlich Partei im Sinne bestimmter Auffassungen,
die in den Beratungen des Gremiums streitig geblieben waren. Das
führte dazu, dass sich auf diese Weise nicht zum Zuge gekommene
Experten von dem Ergebnis distanzierten und darauf bestanden, nicht
als Mitwirkende in den Beratungen genannt zu werden. Daraufhin ver-
zichtete das IKRK darauf, überhaupt die Zusammensetzung des Gre-
miums im Schlussbericht zu dokumentieren. Im Hinblick auf die
Legitimation des Ergebnisses bedeutet das, dass hier bewusst auf die
Legitimation durch Interessenausgleich verzichtet und statt dessen auf
eine andere Art der Legitimation gesetzt wurde, von der sogleich noch
zu reden ist.

E. Legitimation durch Rückbindung an das staatlich

gestaltete Rechtserzeugungssystem–das Verfahren (2)

Eine Art der Legitimation, die mit der vorgenannten verwandt, von ihr
aber doch in wesentlichen Aspekten verschieden ist, ist die Rückbin-
dung an das staatlich, d.h. durch die staatlichen Bürokratien gestaltete
Rechtserzeugungssystem. Diese Art von Legitimation lässt einen Vor-
rang für die traditionellen Vorrechte der staatlichen Bürokratien bei
der Entwicklung des Völkerrechts durch Vertragsschluss (an der immer
noch kein Weg vorbei führt) oder durch Akte, die zur Bildung von
Gewohnheitsrecht beitragen (bei letzteren ist das Monopol der staatli-
chen Bürokratien mehr als zweifelhaft).
Der traditionelle Weg dieses Verfahrens ist, dass die Ergebnisse der
Beratungen eines nicht-staatlichen Gremiums zunächst an Regierun-
gen zur Kenntnis- und Stellungnahme geleitet werden. Diese reagieren
darauf, und so entspinnt sich ein Diskurs von Rede und Gegenrede,
in dem es um die lex lata, also um bestehendes Völkergewohnheits-
recht geht, und um die lex ferenda. In diesem Verfahren liegt ein
wichtiger Kristallisationspunkt für eine klassische Dokumentation von
1408 michael bothe

Völkergewohnheitsrecht, jedenfalls von staatlicher Rechtsüberzeu-

gung. Das Verfahren der ILC ist sehr stark auf dieses Element ausge-
richtet. Die Reaktionen der Regierungen finden so Eingang in die
weitere Arbeit der ILC an einem bestimmten Gegenstand. Das bedeu-
tet, dass die klassischen gouvernementalen Akteure völkerrechtlicher
Rechtsentwicklung systematischen Input in den nicht-staatlichen Pro-
zess der Rechtsentwicklung leisten.
Dieses Verfahren ist ein wichtiges Element der Akzeptanz der
Arbeitsergebnisse der ILC, auch wo sie nicht (oder nicht sogleich) in
Vertragsverhandlungen münden. Ein wichtiges Beispiel aus neuerer
Zeit sind die ILC-Artikel zur Staatenverantwortlichkeit, die von der
Generalversammlung der Vereinten Nationen nicht gebilligt, sondern
lediglich zur Kenntnis genommen wurden.27 In ihrer langjährigen
Arbeit an den Projekt hat die ILC großen Wert auf die Verarbeitung
von Regierungskommentaren zu den Vorentwürfen gelegt. Das ist eine
wichtige Grundlage dafür, dass die Artikel allgemein als eine Formulie-
rung des geltenden Völkergewohnheitsrechts angesehen werden. Als
solche werden sie national und international zitiert. Das schließt es
allerdings nicht aus, dass weiter eine Debatte über mögliche Vertrags-
verhandlungen geführt wird.
Dieses Verfahren der Rückbindung an die gouvernementalen
Akteure wurde auch von anderen nicht-staatlichen Institutionen
gewählt, so etwa von der Expertengruppe über Air and Missile
Warfare. Das war ein wesentlicher Ausgleich zu dem amerikanisch-
europäischen Übergewicht in der Gruppe.
Häufig sucht die private Expertenarbeit eben doch die Bestätigung
in einem völkerrechtlichen Vertragsschluss. Ein solcher ist um so
notwendiger, je weniger sich behaupten lässt, der von einer nicht-
staatlichen Institution entwickelte Text sei in Wahrheit schon lex lata.
Eine Reihe völkerrechtlicher Verträge beruhen auf solchen privaten
Vorarbeiten.

F. Legitimation durch qualifizierte Autorität

Oben wurde bereits gesagt, dass Autorität und Selbstverpflichtung

ausschlaggebende Quellen des Rechts sind. Autorität hat vielerlei
Gestalt. Religiöse Offenbarung und religiöse Führer spielen nicht mehr

27
Resolution 56/83 vom 12. Dezember 2001.
 private normunternehmer im völkerrecht1409

die Rolle, die sie in der monoreligiösen europäischen Staatenwelt

spielten. Dennoch geht die Debatte um die Konstitutionalisierung des
Völkerrechts von der Existenz von Werten aus. Diese haben Autorität,
ohne dass sich diese immer an Institutionen festmachen ließe.
Eine Institution, die sich einer besonderen Autorität erfreut, ist
das IKRK. Diese Rolle ist nicht formell mit Rechtsregeln zu erklären,
die dem IKRK gewisse Aufgaben und Kompetenzen in der internatio-
nalen Gemeinschaft zuweisen. Diese Autorität ist historisch in den
vergangenen 50 Jahren gewachsen. Sie gibt den Arbeiten des IKRK in
der Rechtsentwicklung ein besonderes Gewicht, das das IKRK auch
bewusst einsetzt.
Dies geschieht allerdings mit Vorsicht. Nachdem sich dieser Ansatz
in der Studie „Direct participation in hostilities“ an allerlei Widerstän-
den stieß, ist das IKRK in seinen neuesten Initiativen zur Fortentwick-
lung des humanitären Völkerrechts auf den Weg einer stärkeren
Einbeziehung der staatlichen Bürokratien zurückgekehrt, jedenfalls zu
dem Zeitpunkt, in dem diese Zeilen geschrieben wurden.28

G. Legitimation durch Expertise

Expertise besitzt eine eigene Legitimität. Deswegen wird auch inner-

staatlich in demokratisch legitimierten Verfahren zusätzliche Legiti-
mation durch Expertenrat und Expertengremien gesucht. So gesehen
ist die Legitimation durch Expertise ein Unterfall der Legitimation
durch qualifizierte Autorität.
Dies begründet die Autorität wissenschaftlicher oder wissenschafts-
naher Institutionen bei der Formulierung von Völkerrecht. Die Arbei-
ten der Harvard University zum Recht völkerrechtlicher Verträge29
sind ein wichtiges Beispiel. Andere Beispiele sind die Arbeiten der
ILA30 und des Institut de droit international,31 dessen besondere Auto-
rität in der internationalen Ordnung dadurch gestärkt wurde, dass es
1904 den Friedensnobelpreis erhielt. Dieser Glanz ist heute eher etwas
verblasst.

28
Zusammengefasst ist diese Initiative in der Rede des IKRK-Präsidenten Jakob
Kellenberger, Strengthening Legal Protection for Victims of Armed Conflict, The
ICRC Study on the Current State of International Humanitarian Law, 92 IRRC 799–
804 (2010).
29
Fn. 9.
30
Fn. 10 und 11.
31
Roucounas (Fn. 8); Schindler/Toman (Fn. 16 und 17).
1410 michael bothe

Expertise spielt eine besondere Rolle in der Entwicklung des

internationalen Umweltrechts. Die Entwicklung des Rechts des
­Klimaschutzes war nicht denkbar ohne die vorbereitende und beglei-
tende wissenschaftliche Arbeit. Wegen ihrer Bedeutung wurde sie
sozusagen intergouvernemental kanalisiert im Intergovernmental
Panel on Climate Change (IPCC). Allerdings formuliert der IPCC
keine Regeln, er stößt sie an und festigt ihre Geltung.
Ein anders geartetes Beispiel ist die Gewohnheitsrechtsstudie des
IKRK. Sie verdankt ihr Gewicht, d.h. ihre Legitimation nicht zuletzt
der Tatsache, dass in ihr weltweit angesehene Experten des humanitä-
ren Völkerrechts zusammenwirkten. Das macht ihre eigentliche Wir-
kung aus.

H. Rezeption im traditionellen System der

Normerzeugung und -entwicklung

Ist die Rolle nicht-staatlicher Akteure in der Fortentwicklung des Völ-

kerrechts, das konnte gezeigt werden, nicht zu leugnen, so ist doch wei-
ter zu fragen, worin genau diese Rolle besteht. Bedeutet sie einen
Wandel der traditionellen Rechtsquellenlehre? Im Vordergrund steht
hier natürlich die Frage der nicht vertraglichen Rechtsentwicklung,
mit anderen Worten die Fortbildung von Gewohnheitsrecht. Ausge-
hend vom Art. 38 des IGH-Statuts ist die Lehre und auch die Recht-
sprechung des IGH immer noch auf die Staatenpraxis,32 verstanden als
die Praxis staatlicher Bürokratien fokussiert. Wieweit stellt die
beschriebene Praxis diese in Frage?
Die Überlegungen sollten ausgehen von dem berühmten Zitat des
IGH im Nicaragua-Fall über die Feststellung von Gewohnheitsrecht:
„In order to deduce the existence of customary rules, the Court deems
it sufficient that the conduct of States should, in general, be consistent
with such rules, and that instances of State conduct inconsistent with a
given rule should generally have been treated as breaches of that rule, not
as indications of the recognition of a new rule. If a State acts in a way
prima facie incompatible with a recognized rule, but defends its conduct
by appealing to exceptions or justifications contained within the rule its-
elf, then whether or not the State’s conduct is in fact justifiable on that
basis, the significance of that attitude is to confirm rather than weaken to
the rule.“33

32
Pellet (Fn. 3).
33
Military and Paramilitary Activities in and against Nicaragua (Nicaragua v. United
states), Merits, Urteil vom 27. Juni 1986, § 186.
 private normunternehmer im völkerrecht1411

Diese Aussagen bedeuten zweierlei. Zum ersten ist ausschlaggebend

für den Bestand und damit auch für die Entwicklung von Völkerge-
wohnheitsrecht ein Diskurs:34 Aktion und Reaktion relevanter Akteure.
Das steckt in der Formulierung „should generally have been treated“.
Der Rechtsanwender bewertet Aktion und Reaktion in einer Zusam-
menschau und entnimmt daraus den Inhalt des geltenden Rechts. Zum
zweiten lässt sich das Zitat jedenfalls auf den ersten Blick dahin verste-
hen, dass die relevanten Akteure und Reakteure die „Staaten“, d.h.
staatliche Organe sind. Es wird das Verhalten von Staaten bewertet,
„Staaten“ vertreten Rechtfertigungsstrategien. Aber die passive Formu-
lierung „should have been treated“ lässt eben doch letztlich offen, wer
denn genau die das Verhalten bewertenden Akteure sind. Darum gilt
nicht mehr ohne Einschränkung, dass die Teilnehmer des besagten
Diskurses nur staatliche Organe sind. In diesem Spiel von Aktion und
Reaktion sind die dargestellten nicht-staatlichen Institutionen und
Akteure gleichberechtigte Partner.35 Dafür wurden Beispiele genannt,
sie seien hier noch einmal hervorgehoben.
Der wichtigste Fall ist wohl eine Art Abkürzungsweg von den
Arbeitsergebnissen der nicht-staatlichen Institutionen zur Rechtsan-
wendung. Das ist dann der Fall, wenn sich Rechtsanwender bei der
Feststellung des Rechts auf diese Texte stützen. In der gerichtlichen
Praxis geschieht dies durchaus. Für den IGH bietet Art. 38 (1) (d) des
Statuts dafür eine argumentative Basis, wobei der IGH seine diesbe-
zügliche Praxis des Zitierens auf die ILC beschränkt.36 Ein anderes Bei-
spiel ist die Berufung auf solche nicht-staatlichen Texte in Vorschriften,
die das geltende Völkerrecht für den internen staatlichen Gebrauch
feststellen. Ein Beispiel ist die Bezugnahme auf das sog. San Remo
Manual37 in nationalen militärischen Dienstvorschriften.38
Der zweite und vielleicht wichtigere Weg ist der Einbezug der
Arbeitsergebnisse nicht-staatlicher Institutionen in einen von staatli-
chen Organen geführten Diskurs. Oben wurde gezeigt, dass die Einbe-
ziehung der Regierungen in die Arbeiten der ILC den Ausgangspunkt
eines Rechtsdiskurses zwischen staatlichen Bürokratien untereinander
und mit der ILC bildet.39

34
Riedel (Fn. 6), 318 unter Berufung auf Habermas; Hobe (Fn. 6), 328.
35
Zutreffend Hobe (Fn. 6), 328.
36
Pellet (Fn. 3), Rn. 323 f.
37
Fn. 22.
38
Z.B. in Deutschland und Großbritannien, Nachweise bei M. Sassòli/
A. A. Bouvier/A. Quintin, How Does Law Protect in War?, Band 1, 302 (3. Aufl. 2011).
39
Pellet (Fn. 3).
1412 michael bothe

Ein weiteres erhellendes Beispiel ist die offizielle Reaktion der USA
auf die Gewohnheitsrechtsstudie des IKRK. State Department und
Pentagon waren (und sind) mit einzelnen Ergebnissen der Studie nicht
einverstanden, gingen aber offenbar davon aus, dass die Ergebnisse der
Studie nicht einfach eine akademische Aussage über das Recht sind,
sondern Gewohnheitsrecht bildende Wirkung besitzen. In dieser Situ-
ation musste zur Wahrung der eigenen Position diese Wirkung der
Studie ausgeschaltet werden. So wurden die Ergebnisse in einem
gemeinsamen Brief der Rechtsberater des State Department und des
Pentagon bestritten, der auch veröffentlicht wurde, was wiederum zu
einem Widerspruch der Autoren der Studie führte. Das ist ein Diskurs,
wie er traditionell um Fragen des Gewohnheitsrechts zwischen Staaten
geführt zu werden pflegt.
Nicht-staatliche Institutionen haben die staatlichen Bürokratien als
Erzeuger völkerrechtlicher Entwicklung nicht abgelöst. Aber sie sind
an dieser Entwicklung beteiligt und, das ist ganz wesentlich, dynami-
sieren sie. Die wesentlichen Dokumente, die hier als Arbeitsergebnisse
nicht-staatlicher Institutionen vorgestellt wurden, betreffen allesamt
Fragen, in denen das Recht unklar oder unzureichend war. Staatliche
Bürokratien allein hätten es nicht vermocht, diese Defizite des gelten-
den Rechts zu beheben. Die fallweise Entwicklung in gerichtlicher und
diplomatischer Praxis, klassische Vehikel der Fortbildung von Gewohn-
heitsrecht, vermag das nicht zu leisten.

I. Völkerrechtspolitik nicht-staatlicher Normunternehmer

Die Lösung internationaler Probleme durch Schaffen internationaler
Normen ist interessengeleitet. Sie geschieht in einem Prozess, in dem
Probleme erkannt und einem politischen Interessenausgleich zuge-
führt werden, der dann in einer Rechtsnorm formuliert wird. Dieser
Vorgang ist offenkundig beim Abschluss völkerrechtlicher Verträge.
Auch das Gewohnheitsrecht ist nicht einfach das Zufallsprodukt sich
willkürlich ereignender Fälle. Auch dieser Vorgang wird von relevan-
ten Akteuren bewusst gesteuert, ist Gegenstand von Völkerrechtspoli-
tik. Eben solche Völkerrechtspolitik ist das Anliegen und Bestreben
nicht-staatlicher Institutionen, wie sie in diesem Beitrag vorgestellt
wurden. Ihre Agenda bereichert die Entwicklung des Völkerrechts. Sie
hilft aus, wo die Leistungsfähigkeit der staatlichen Bürokratien nicht
ausreicht, ein den Erfordernissen der internationalen Gemeinschaft
angemessenes Recht zu gestalten. Die vorstehenden Ausführungen
haben gezeigt, welches die Grundlagen der Legitimität sind, die eine
auch rechtlich wirksame Erfüllung dieser Funktion ermöglichen.
 The Governance of the Global Ocean Observing
System (GOOS)

Peter Ehlers

A. Introduction

Even in the 21st century man’s knowledge about the seas and oceans is
rather limited. Though oceanographic research and observation activi-
ties have been going on for at least 150 years,1 tremendous deficiencies
still exist. However, a thorough ocean knowledge is a prerequisite
for good ocean governance, for making use of the seas in an environ-
mentally acceptable, sustainable manner, and for effective coastal
protection measures against marine threats requiring above all reliable
forecast services. Likewise climate change cannot be assessed nor rea-
sonable mitigation measures be taken without sufficient oceanographic
data. The knowledge needed cannot be obtained from research activi-
ties only as they are restricted in time and project oriented. Scientific
research has to be based on and supplemented by operational long-
term ocean observations to provide analyses, predictions and other
information products.2 Various States have for a long time performed
operational oceanographic services as a basis for forecasts, in particu-
lar with regard to natural hazards and accidents, but also for environ-
ment protection and the management of marine resources. These
services, however, are mostly restricted to coastal zones and specific
areas of national interest. What is needed is an overarching global
ocean observing system, integrated as the marine component into
other earth observation systems such as the Global Climate Observing
System (GCOS)3 and the Global Earth Observation System of Systems

1
The first international conference establishing principles for operational meteorol-
ogy and oceanography was held in Brussels in 1853.
2
 See International Oceanographic Commission, The Global Ocean Observing
System–Prospectus 1998 (in the following GOOS Prospectus), GOOS Publication 42,
at 3 (1998); IOC/UNESCO, The Global Ocean Observing System, A Summary for
Policy Makers (in the following GOOS Brochure), at 1 (2009).
3
 For details about GCOS see http:www.wmo.int/pages/prog/gcos/index
.php?name=AboutGCOS.
1414 peter ehlers

(GEOSS).4 Such a global ocean observing system under the acronym

GOOS5 is being set up at present under the leadership of the IOC6
together with WMO,7 UNEP8 and ICSU9. It not only requires a clear
scientific and technical conception, but also a firm basis for establish-
ing the appropriate governance structure and ascertaining that the
States will commit themselves to contributing to the system.
The idea of developing GOOS came up in the IOC in the late 1980s,10
but was also thoroughly discussed by WMO as the oceans play an
important role in climate processes.11 In 1989 the IOC Assembly, at its
15th session, expressed the need to implement an integrated global
ocean observing system,12 and in 1991, at its 16th session, took the for-
mal decision on the development of GOOS.13 Since then the IOC has
been working on the world-wide implementation of the system.
This paper will not examine the scientific and technical conception
of GOOS nor the achievements gained and the relationship with other
marine research programmes and earth observation systems.14 It rather
focuses on endeavours to establish an appropriate governance struc-
ture, including in particular the international co-ordination of the sys-
tem, regional efforts and the role of States participating in the system.
In addition some specific legal questions will be discussed which have
emerged during the implementation process. Considering the signifi-
cance of regional approaches the development in Europe is dealt with
in some detail.

4
 For details about GEOSS see http:www.earthobservations.org/geoss.shtml.
5
 For justification of GOOS see The Case for GOOS, Report of the IOC Blue Ribbon
Panel for a Global Ocean Observing System (GOOS), IOC-Inf. 915; W. Scherer/
A. Tolkachev/G. Kullenberg/M. Cole, The Approach to the Global Ocean Observing
System (GOOS), WMO Bulletin, vol. 42 No. 2, at 118 (1993).
6
 Intergovernmental Oceanographic Commission of UNESCO.
7
World Meteorological Organization.
8
United Nations Environment Programme.
9
 International Council for Science.
10
 In 1988 the Executive Council (EC) of the IOC established an expert group to
prepare proposals for a global system.
11
 At its 41st session in 1989 the Executive Council of WMO adopted Resolution
No. 11 on the development and implementation of a global operation ocean observing
system in support of climate monitoring.
12
 IOC Resolution XV-4.
13
 IOC Resolution XVI-8.
14
The scientific, technological and operational base for GOOS is described in detail
in GOOS Prospectus (note 2), at 35; about progress in implementation see GOOS
Brochure (note 2), at 8; D. J. Baker, Planning and Implementation for GOOS, A con-
sultant study prepared for the IOC and the WMO, at 4, 26 (2009).
 the governance of the global ocean observing system1415

B. The GOOS Concept

The concept of GOOS is to use long-term, multidisciplinary, opera-

tional oceanographic observations for assessing and predicting the
state of the ocean, contributing to the prediction of climate change and
encouraging scientific and technological development to facilitate the
development and implementation of the system.15 When the scientific
and technical design of GOOS was elaborated in 1992, five modules
were identified relating to the interests of particular user groups: cli-
mate monitoring, marine living resources, coastal zone management
and development, the health of the ocean, and marine meteorological
and oceanographic services.16 From the beginning overriding impor-
tance has been attached to capacity building for those States which
presently cannot contribute significantly, as the involvement of all
coastal States is needed for it to succeed as a global system. Taking into
account that various national and regional programmes and activities
have already long been in existence, close regional co-operation has to
play an important role. In the first phase the IOC concentrated very
much on the open-ocean climate module and started to develop a
coastal observation system, whereas the other modules have been
given less attention hitherto.

C. The Legal Foundation of GOOS

The legal basis for GOOS is to be found in the corresponding

Resolutions of the Assembly and the Executive Council of the IOC
(EC)17 without any direct basis in international treaties. However, sev-
eral international conventions deal with ocean observation and data
acquisition and thus facilitate the establishment of the observation
system.

15
 For details of the concept see “Towards Operational Oceanography: The
Global Ocean Observing System (GOOS)”, IOC/INF-1028; C. Summerhayes, The
Global Ocean Observing System (GOOS), WMO Bulletin, vol. 47, No 1, at 32 (1998);
see also “Das globale Ozeanbeobachtungssystem (GOOS)”, UNESCO heute, I–II, at
89 (1995).
16
 IOC/EC-XXV/3 at 12 (No. 117); the design of GOOS is described in GOOS
Prospectus (note 2), at 75.
17
 In particular IOC Resolutions XV-4, XVI-8; the EC acts on behalf of the Assembly
during the two-year periods between ordinary Assembly sessions (Art. 7 UNESCO/
IOC Statutes).
1416 peter ehlers

I. UN Convention on the Law of the Sea

Part XII of UNCLOS18 provides that States have the obligation to pro-
tect and preserve the marine environment and shall, individually and
jointly, take all measures necessary to do so.19 Though these provisions
primarily aim at prevention and reduction measures, they also cover
the acquisition of information and data about the seas as a prerequisite
to gaining the knowledge needed for taking appropriate measures as
well as for monitoring their effectiveness. In line with this considera-
tion States are obliged to co-operate for the purpose of promoting stud-
ies and undertaking programmes of scientific research, including
participation in regional and global programmes.20 Directly or through
the competent international organizations they shall endeavour to
observe, measure, evaluate and analyse the risks or effects of marine
pollution; reports of the results shall be made available to all States.21 As
far as the conservation of living resources in the exclusive economic
zone is concerned, the coastal State shall take into account the best
scientific evidence when determining the allowable catch;22 this provi-
sion may be interpreted as that States have to strive towards obtaining
sufficient scientific knowledge. In addition States shall provide scien-
tific and technical assistance to developing States concerning environ-
mental assessments.23 Even if the provisions of UNCLOS do not spell
out a concrete obligation to establish an observation system such as
GOOS, one may deduce a general obligation to provide for knowledge
about the ecological state of the seas, to co-operate with other States
and to participate in international programmes. However, the decision
about how States undertake these activities is left to their discretion.

II. Other Conventions

General commitments to research and observation are also made by
the Framework Convention on Climate Change. For the promotion
and co-operation in research and observation the Parties to the
Convention shall develop international programmes and support

18
United Nations Convention for the Law of the Sea.
19
 Art. 192, 194 UNCLOS.
20
 Art. 200 UNCLOS.
21
 Art. 204, 205 UNCLOS.
22
 Art. 61 UNCLOS.
23
 Art. 202 UNCLOS.
 the governance of the global ocean observing system1417

efforts to strengthen systematic observation and scientific and techni-

cal research capacities and capabilities.24 Similar commitments are to
be found in the Convention on Biological Diversity.25 These provisions
are highly relevant for GOOS. However, they do not create commit-
ments to concrete contributions to the system. The Agreement for the
Implementation of the Provisions of the UNLOS Relating to the
Conservation of Straddling Fish Stocks and Highly Migratory Fish
Stocks requires that measures to ensure long-term sustainability are
based on the best scientific evidence available; States are obliged to col-
lect and share information from national and international research
programmes, to promote and conduct scientific research, to monitor
conservation and management measures and to co-operate for these
purposes through competent international organizations.26 Monitoring
and research activities are also required by marine environment pro-
tection conventions.27
Though these conventions, emphasizing the need for information
and data about the seas, may be interpreted as creating some
obligations for monitoring, observation and research activities, includ-
ing international co-operation, in particular through competent inter-
national organizations, the obligations in any case are restricted to
specific issues or areas. The conventions may enhance and support a
global observation system, but they do not constitute any concrete and
binding obligation to establish GOOS, nor do they prescribe in what
way and to what extent States have to participate in the system.

III. Political Support for Establishing GOOS

Initial political support was given by the Second World Climate
Conference in 1990 which recommended a Global Climate Observing
System to include land, air and ocean parameters and specifically the
establishment of a GOOS.28 The most important supportive action

24
 Art. 4.1 (g), 5 UNCLOS.
25
 Art. 7, 12 UNCLOS.
26
 Art. 5, 14 UNCLOS.
27
 See Art. 6, 8 and Annex IV Convention for the Protection of the Marine
Environment of the North-East Atlantic; Art. 24 Convention on the Protection of the
Environment of the Baltic Sea Area; Art. VI, VIII Convention of the Prevention of
Marine Pollution by Dumping of Wastes and Other Matter.
28
 IOC/SC/MD/97; at 16 (No. 152); cf. Case for GOOS (note 5), Annex 2, at A3; at a
later stage again support was given, e. g., by the Fourth Conference of the Parties to
the Framework Convention on Climate Change in 1998 by urging Parties to actively
1418 peter ehlers

came from the Rio Conference in 1992.29 Based on a statement sub­

mitted by the IOC,30 Chapter 17 of Agenda 21 of the UNCED Report
calls for long-term observation systems and emphasizes the need to
improve the capacity to collect, analyse, and assess data and informa-
tion from the oceans and seas. In this respect States should consider
the role of the IOC in achieving these goals through GOOS.31 However,
Chapter 17 is no binding legal instrument, but a programmatic politi-
cal declaration only, which may encourage national commitments but
does not constitute any obligations for States.32 In any case these results
of UNCED have given IOC Member States both the opportunity and
the responsibility to carry GOOS forward.33

D. The GOOS Organization

I. The Competent International Organization

The international instruments dealing with marine observation and
monitoring systems stress the need for co-operation by States through
the competent international organization, i.e. the organization to
which specific competences and functions have been assigned with
regard to the relevant tasks. The appropriate competent organization
for oceanographic matters is the IOC which since 1960 has been an
independent unit within UNESCO. Its purpose is to promote interna-
tional co-operation and to co-ordinate programmes in research, ser-
vices and capacity building to learn more about the nature and resources
of the ocean and the seas.34 It is only consequential that IOC has taken
over the main responsibility for GOOS. However, ocean observation is
an issue which is also related to the work of other international organi-
zations, in particular WMO which is interested in ocean data for

support national oceanographic observing systems in order to ensure the implementa-

tion of the climate elements of GOOS (Decision 14/CP.4).
29
United Nations Conference on Environment and Development (UNCED).
30
 IOC/Res. XVI-16.
31
Para. 17.102.
32
 M. D. Evans, International Law, at 661 (2nd ed. 2006).
33
 IOC/GOOS-I/3, at 2 (No. 11).
34
 Art. 1 (1) UNESCO/IOC Statutes; for details about IOC and the Statutes which
were revised in 1999 see P. Ehlers, The Intergovernmental Oceanographic Commission:
An International Organisation for the Promotion of Marine Research, 15 IJMCL 533
(2000).
 the governance of the global ocean observing system1419

climate and meteorological activities,35 and UNEP which needs ocean

data for measures to protect the marine environment.36 Both of them
have joined the IOC as co-sponsors in the development and imple-
mentation of GOOS. In addition, ICSU, which is a non-governmental
organization with a global membership of national scientific bodies
and international scientific unions,37 has also become a co-sponsor of
GOOS and supports the system by providing the necessary scientific
advice. As a result the responsibility for GOOS is jointly met by IOC,
WMO, UNEP and ICSU, but acknowledging the lead function of the
IOC.38

II. The Governing Structure

The establishment of a global operational system requires a sustained
organizational structure, consisting at least of a decision making body
to be assisted by a secretariat. As GOOS is developed and implemented
by the IOC the ultimate responsibility lies with the Assembly of the
IOC and the EC respectively. Whereas at the beginning the IOC
Committee on Ocean Processes and Climate, which already existed,
was charged preliminarily with overseeing the effective co-ordination
of the planning and development of GOOS,39 in 1992 a specific IOC
Committee for GOOS (I-GOOS) and a GOOS Technical and Scientific
Advisory Panel were established.40 I-GOOS was to serve as the inter-
governmental forum for promoting GOOS, composed of the IOC
Member States, whose representatives should be in a position to make
national commitments for GOOS.41 When the WMO and UNEP joined
GOOS as co-sponsors I-GOOS was extended to become a joint IOC-
WMO-UNEP Committee for GOOS.42 The GOOS Technical and
Scientific Advisory Panel was established in co-sponsorship of IOC,
WMO and ICSU as the Joint Scientific and Technical Committee

35
 See the WMO website, http://www.wmo.int/pages/themes/observations/index
_en.html.
36
 See the UNEP website, http://www.org/regionalseas/partners/interagency/GOS/
default.asp.
37
 See the ICSU website, http://www.icsu.org/5_abouticsu/INTRO.php4.
38
 IOC/Resolution XVII-5.
39
 IOC Resolution XVI-8
40
 IOC Resolution EC-XXV.3.
41
 IOC/EC-XXV/3, at 14 (No. 124).
42
 IOC Resolution XVII-5.
1420 peter ehlers

(J-GOOS).43 It was tasked with advising I-GOOS on all scientific and

technical aspects and was composed of experts nominated in their per-
sonal capacity. In particular ICSU stressed the desirability of the scien-
tific independence of J-GOOS and the need to avoid being distracted
by intergovernmental processes.44 As a mechanism for co-ordination
between I-GOOS and J-GOOS was deemed necessary, the I-GOOS
work was assisted by a Strategy Sub-Committee (SSC) the composition
of which included experts, as well as representatives of important eco-
nomic categories of users.45 However, quite soon the need to streamline
the GOOS structure46 and to improve integration between all bodies
became obvious, and J-GOOS and the SSC were combined in the
GOOS Steering Group (GSC).47
A GOOS Support Office was established for the secretarial work in
1991,48 and this was later renamed the GOOS Project Office (GPO)
with the appointment of a permanent UNESCO position for its direc-
tor.49 The GOOS Project Office is not a body of its own, but part of the
IOC Secretariat which is ultimately responsible for the work to be
done.50
Concern was repeatedly expressed about the responsibilities and the
allocation of tasks between the intergovernmental and the scientific
body. There was a strong feeling that the composition of GSC was at
risk of being far too academic.51 There was also criticism that a struc-
ture comprising two parallel bodies could lead to duplication and over-
lapping of work and might not be robust enough for the co-ordination
of GOOS. The normal practice would be for the intergovernmental
body to steer such a programme with advice from a group of experts
which would comprise a subsidiary body.52 The IOC had to clarify the
leading role of I-GOOS several times. At its 20th meeting the Assembly
stated that I-GOOS is the intergovernmental body taking overall
responsibility for the promotion, co-ordination, implementation and

43
 IOC/GOOS-I/3, at 3 (No. 16).
44
 IOC/SC/MD/101, at 16 (No. 160).
45
 See IOC/SC/MD/106, at 29 (no 246); for the terms of reference see IOC-WMO-
UNEP/I-GOOS-PS-II/3, Annex II.
46
 See IOC/EC-XXIX/3, at 17 (No. 139).
47
 IOC/SC/MD/216, at 19 (No. 159).
48
 IOC Resolution XVI-8.
49
 See lOC/SC/MD/216, at 19 (No. 160).
50
 IOC Resolution XXIII-5; as an integral part of the Secretariat no further defini-
tion of the GPO tasks was deemed necessary, cf. IOC-XXIII/3, at 20 (No. 145).
51
 See IOC/EC-XXXI/3, at 27 (No. 202).
52
 See IOC/EC-XXXI/3 at 27 (No 203), IOC/EC-XXXIII/3, at 30 (No. 217).
 the governance of the global ocean observing system1421

management of GOOS, whereas the GSC is restricted to advisory func-

tions.53 To avoid confusion about the division of responsibilities and
the tasks of the GSC as a scientific advisory body, it was renamed the
GOOS Scientific Steering Committee (GSSC).54 The GSSC comprises
up to 18 experts in relevant disciplines selected by the sponsoring
organizations after consultation with the Member States, and several ex
officio members representing the sponsoring organizations, related
IOC bodies and other global observing systems. The GSSC currently
has two scientific advisory subgroups, the Ocean Observations Panel
for Climate (OOPC) and the Panel for Integrated Coastal Observations
(PICO).55
At the 23rd session the Assembly again confirmed that I-GOOS
has the overall responsibility and that the renamed GSSC has to pro-
vide scientific and technical advice to I-GOOS.56 The amended Terms
of Reference clarify that I-GOOS functions under the IOC with co-
sponsorship from WMO and UNEP. That means that I-GOOS is a
body subordinated to the Assembly and the EC respectively. Final deci-
sions are to be left to them. However, as WMO and UNEP are co-spon-
sors decisions of the IOC have to be confirmed by them, if their
competences or commitments are concerned. As I-GOOS meets only
biannually an I-GOOS Board was established to provide assistance and
guidance during the intersessional period. At present it consists of the
Chair and the Vice Chairs as well as of the Chairs of the GSSC and
GRC.57
In addition the Joint WMO-IOC Technical Commission for
Oceanography and Maritime Meteorology (JCOMM) also deals with
GOOS matters. JCOMM was established by the WMO and the IOC in
1999 to improve the co-ordination and management of the marine
related activities of the IOC and WMO, to reduce duplication and
overlapping and to enhance efficiency.58 The responsibilities of JCOMM
include the further development of the observation networks, the
implementation of data management systems, the delivery of products
and services, and the provision of capacity building of Member States.

53
 IOC Resolution XX-8.
54
 IOC Resolution EC-XXXVII.6.
55
 For details see www.ioc-goos.org/content/view/17/31; Baker (note 14), at 17.
56
 IOC Resolution XXIII-5.
57
 See part G and note 72.
58
 IOC Resolution XX-12, WMO Congress Resolution 14 (Cg.-XIII); JCOMM
replaced the former Joint IOC/WMO Committee for the Integrated Ocean Services
System and the WMO Commission for Maritime Meteorology.
1422 peter ehlers

Though the responsibilities explicitly exclude those aspects specifically

handled by other WMO constituent bodies or equivalent IOC bodies,
the risk of conflicts of competence and overlapping with I-GOOS and
GSSC cannot be ruled out. The JCOMM in principle has to work under
the guidance of the GOOS bodies as a tool to meet the needs of GOOS.59

III. Regional Approaches

Quite early it became obvious that GOOS could be most effectively
implemented through the intensification of regional co-operation
where there are common scientific and practical interests, in particular
as various monitoring programmes and activities were already being
carried out on a regional level.60 A regional approach was recognized
as the most appropriate means for many States, especially for aspects
of GOOS concerning the oceans adjacent to their shores61 and for
assisting developing countries in building up the capacity needed for
observation systems. In the mid-1990s China, Japan, the Republic of
Korea and the Russian Federation started the first regional GOOS co-
operation programme through a project called NEAR-GOOS.62 A sim-
ilar initiative was undertaken in Europe by EuroGOOS.63 To guide the
regional GOOS developments the I-GOOS elaborated a set of main
principles which would be required from any organization requesting
designation under GOOS.64 No new regional group was to be formed
without the approval of I-GOOS.65 When establishing regional GOOS
organizations–which were named GOOS Regional Alliances (GRA)–
consideration had to be given to the existence of regional subsidiary
bodies of IOC and other GOOS sponsors to avoid overlapping and
duplication of efforts.66 To stimulate the interchange of ideas and

59
 IOC-XXI/3, at 25 (No. 189).
60
 IOC/SC/MD/91, at 9 (No. 72); IOC/I-GOOS-I/3, at 2 (No. 12).
61
 IOC Resolution XVIII-11; at its 19th session the Assembly urged Member States
to take action to develop regional initiatives and projects (IOC/Resolution XIX-6); the
Assembly at its 20th session encouraged the efforts that constitute direct regional con-
tributions to GOOS (IOC Resolution XX-7).
62
 North-East Asian Regional GOOS, see GOOS Prospectus (note 2), at 112.
63
 IOC-WMO-UNEP/I-GOOS-II/3S, at 3; for EuroGOOS see part G.
64
 IOC-WMO-UNEP/I-GOOS-PS-II/3, at 11 (No. 90); see also F. Gérard, The
Global Ocean Observing System, GOOS, and the role of Regional Alliances, in:
H. Dahlin/M. J. Bell/N. C. Flemming/S. E. Petersson (eds.), Coastal to Global
Operational Oceanography: Achievements and Challenges, at 3, 8 (2010).
65
 IOC-WMO-UNEP/I-GOOS-V/3, at 23 (No. 159).
66
 IOC/EC-XXXIX/3, at 20 (No. 144).
 the governance of the global ocean observing system1423

experience the GRAs come together biannually at a GOOS Regional

Forum (GRF). At the first forum, held in 2002, a GOOS Regional
Policy67 was elaborated and later endorsed by the IOC Assembly.68 The
policy deals in detail with the conditions for regional agreements, rec-
ognition as a GRA and contributions to the GRF. At present 12 GRAs
have been recognized.69
A proposal of the 2nd RGF to create a GOOS Regional Council
(GRC) acting as a co-ordination and decision-making mechanism of
the GRAs led to some controversial discussion, as the subsidiary status
of non-governmental GRAs with respect to the intergovernmental
governance provided by the IOC and I-GOOS needed clarification.70
At last the establishment of a GRC was accepted by the IOC on the
basis of terms of reference setting out that the GRC provides advice to
I-GOOS and serves as a conduit for actions and recommendations
from I-GOOS to the GRAs.71 Though at the 4th GRF the place and role
of the GRC in the IOC/UNESCO legal framework was questioned, the
meeting finally established the GRC.72 When the Assembly at its 25th
session took note of the establishment,73 some participants, however,
expressed their concern that the role of the GRC was not sufficiently
clear and the GRC should not work independently of the guidance pro-
vided by I-GOOS.74

E. Member States’ Commitments

GOOS depends on strong long-term commitments by the Member

States with regard to the financing of the system and implementing it in
particular through sustained national activities. Sufficient funding
is a pre-condition for the co-ordination activities of the IOC and its
specific GOOS bodies.75 Being part of UNESCO, the IOC is financed

67
GOOS-RF-I, at 4 (para 5); IOC-WMO-UNEP/I-GOOS-VI/3, at 21 (No. 154) and
Annex VII.
68
 IOC Resolution XXII-8.
69
 IOC/EC-XLI/3, at 30 (No. 234).
70
 IOC-WMO-UNEP/I-GOOS-VII/3, at 9 (No. 48).
71
 IOC-WMO-UNEP/I-GOOS-VIII/3, at 12 (Decisions 8, 9, 10), Annex IV.
72
 IOC-WMO-UNEP-ICSU/GRF-IV, at 14 (Action 15); in order to strengthen rela-
tions with the IOC the GRC chair has become a member of the I-GOOS Board.
73
 IOC Resolution XXV-12.
74
 See IOC-XXV/3, at 46 (No. 367), see F. Gérard (note 64), at 9.
75
The required resources are described in detail in Towards Operational
Oceanography (note 15), at 8; see Scherer (note 5), at 122.
1424 peter ehlers

indirectly by the Member States of UNESCO. It has neither an inde-

pendent budget nor the right to establish its own membership contri-
butions,76 but the IOC budget has to be adopted and appropriated by
the UNESCO General Conference. The IOC resources may be comple-
mented by voluntary contributions from Member States, UN organiza-
tions or other donors.77 However, finally it is left to the discretion of the
Member States and donors to make any additional financial
contributions.
In addition to the activities of the IOC the implementation of GOOS
is dependent on the active collaboration of States. They have to
ascertain through their appropriate agencies and institutes the
necessary long-term observations, the assimilation and provision of
data and the delivery of products following the requirements of the
programme’s design. Since the very beginning of the GOOS activities
the IOC has made many efforts to encourage and motivate Member
States to commit themselves to GOOS through sustained national
contributions which should include support by means of national facil-
ities and services, membership of a GRA and assistance for capacity
building in developing countries. However, as long as no binding
international agreement obliges States to fulfil specific commit­
ments, the IOC is dependent on the goodwill of its members and
their willingness to give priority to GOOS in comparison to other
commitments.
Again and again the Assembly, the EC and the GOOS bodies have
highlighted the need for the long-term involvement of Member States
and sustained funding.78 To raise the awareness of governments and
decision-makers about the significant role of the oceans, the IOC sub-
mitted statements in 1992 to UNCED and the Intergovernmental
Meeting of the World Climate Programme which was aimed at urging
States to support GOOS,79 but without calling for any binding commit-
ments. Several times the IOC Member States were invited and urged to
contribute to an earmarked part of an IOC trust fund to support the
costs of developing and establishing GOOS including the secondment
of specialists to the GPO.80

76
 Art. 10 para 1(a) /UNESCO/IOC Statutes.
77
 Art. 10 para 2 UNESCO/IOC Statutes.
78
 See e.g. IOC Resolutions XV-4, XVII-5, EC-XXV.3, EC-XXXI.10,
Recommendation GOOS I-2 (IOC/GOOS-I/3, Annex II at 2).
79
 IOC Resolutions XVI-16, XVII-5.
80
 E. g. IOC Resolutions XVII-5, EC-XVII.6.
 the governance of the global ocean observing system1425

Quite early some IOC members expressed the view that an enabling
protocol or convention amongst governments would facilitate partici-
pation in GOOS and provide a formal framework as a basis for Member
States to express governmental support in principle for an observation
system.81 With reference to the World Weather Watch System estab-
lished by the WMO,82 the Secretariat was instructed to prepare a study
of appropriate formal arrangements for GOOS leading to a world ocean
watch.83 The study, however, was never finalised. For 1996 a GOOS
Agreements Meeting was planned to obtain formal government com-
mitment.84 The objectives of the meeting were to obtain consent from
governments to the concept and principles of GOOS and commit-
ments from national agencies to contribute to the implementation of
GOOS.85 For this purpose I-GOOS elaborated a set of principles
designed to serve as initial basic rules for the design and implementa-
tion of GOOS.86 The principles not only include the design of GOOS,
but also define some principles of involvement. They comprise the
compliance of contributions with the plans and policy developed, the
use of appropriate existing systems, long-term oriented implementa-
tion and help for less developed countries, but confirm the full auton-
omy of the participants in the management of their contributions,
including the right to determine and limit the contributions. This
means that it is left entirely to the governments and agencies whether
and to what extent they are willing to participate. They retain full con-
trol of the resources and contributions they make to GOOS. Under the
principles they should only “reflect an intent for sustained observa-
tion”, but they are not forced to enter into really firm and open-ended
commitments.
However, as there were uncertainties about the scope of what imple-
mentation was to be expected, the envisaged agreement meeting was at

81
 IOC/EC-XXIII/3, at 7 (No. 66).
82
 See P. E. Dexter/R. C. Landis/T. W. Spence, The World Weather Watch: Is an
ocean equivalent meaningful or realistic?, in: J. H. Stel (ed.): Operational Oceanography–
The Challenge for European Co-Operation, Elsevier Oceanography Series 62, at 51
(1997); see also World Meteorological Organization, Twenty-Second Status Report on
Implementation of the World Weather Watch, WMO Publication No. 986 (2005).
83
 IOC Resolution EC-XXIII.5.
84
 See Resolution I-GOOS-II.4 (IOC-WMO-UNEP/I-GOOS-II/3).
85
 Recommendation I-GOOS-III.4 (IOC-WMO-UNEP/I-GOOS-III/3, Annex II,
at 4).
86
The GOOS Principles, see Resolution I-GOOS-III.1 (IOC-WMO-UNEP/
I-GOOS-III/3, Annex II at 1, 6); see also GOOS Prospectus (note 2), at 11.
1426 peter ehlers

first postponed,87 then wholly abandoned. Following a suggestion by

the GSC that instead the existing intergovernmental machinery should
be used to obtain agreement,88 the Assembly at its 20th session in 1999
adopted a comprehensive resolution on GOOS89 which was itself to
constitute an agreement, as the IOC Assembly, being the main inter-
governmental body responsible for ocean affairs, is accredited by gov-
ernments to make such decisions. The Assembly noted that progress
had been made in the design and planning of GOOS, but that the
implementation and maintenance could be achieved only through spe-
cific contributions from governments. Recognizing that the specifica-
tion of GOOS had not been formally agreed by governments, it
reinforced its decision to establish through the concerted action of its
Member States an internationally co-ordinated GOOS and endorsed
the GOOS Principles, elaborated by I-GOOS. By encouraging the
numerous efforts at the national, regional and global levels Member
States were urged to contribute to implementing GOOS within the
context of available resources and government policies. In support of
the GOOS development a commitment meeting on a non-governmen-
tal level was arranged during the Assembly session, where marine
agencies and national bodies and organizations declared their contri-
butions to GOOS.90 However, these contributions mostly reflected
existing activities and had to be brought in line with the designed
GOOS plans. This led to the Assembly’s conclusion that GOOS had
indeed moved from a concept to an implementable reality, especially as
far as open ocean observations were concerned, though the vision of a
truly global and fully comprehensive system was still far from realiza-
tion and it would take decades to finalize.91
The GOOS Resolution has not really led to stronger commitments
by States. Several times I-GOOS, the EC and the Assembly have again
expressed their concern about the need to ensure adequate financing
and have urged States to increase their financial contributions.92 These
appeals were recently supported by the 63rd General Assembly of
the UN by stressing the importance of increasing the scientific

87
 See IOC-WMO-UNEP/I-GOOS-PS-II/3, at 8 (No. 60).
88
 IOC-WMO-UNEP-ICSU/GSC-I/3, at 23 (Actions 41, 42).
89
 IOC Resolution XX-7.
90
 See IOC-XX/3, Annex IV.
91
 IOC-XX/3, at 26 (No. 204).
92
 See IOC-Resolutions XXII-4, XXIII-5, XXIV-7, XXV-12.
 the governance of the global ocean observing system1427

understanding of the ocean/atmosphere interface including participa-

tion in observation programmes such as GOOS.93 In 2008 the EC came
to the discouraging conclusion that the goal of identifying and com-
mitting sustained funding had not been achieved.94 At present the IOC
commits about 1.6 million US$ to GOOS co-ordination complemented
by voluntary contributions of about 1 million US$, but it needs an
additional 1 million US$ for completing and maintaining GOOS.95
However, much greater resources are needed at the national level for
investments and running costs.96

F. Specific Legal Issues

I. Access to Data and Information

The continuing development of GOOS made it more and more obvious
that establishing, maintaining, validating, making accessible and dis-
tributing high quality operational data which meet international stand-
ards is one of its core components. Whereas in earlier times researchers
were accustomed to keeping their data hidden away until they had
worked them up, for GOOS the timely, free and unrestricted exchange
of and access to data is one of the pre-conditions.97 In line with this the
GOOS Principles require a specified data policy for the management,
processing and distribution of data.98 As the data policy might affect
the economic and sovereign interests of those countries providing data,
controversial opinions were expressed concerning the free and open
access to data, in particular in case of the commercialization of data
and products.99

93
United Nations General Assembly Resolution A/Res 63/111, para. 146.
94
 IOC/EC-XLI/3, at 30 (No. 231).
95
GOOS Brochure (note 2), at 12.
96
 In the 1990s it was estimated that a fully operational GOOS would require finan-
cial resources in the order of 2 billion US$, see GOOS Brochure (note 2), at 10.
97
 See IOC-WMO-UNEP/I-GOOS III/3, at 3 (No. 8 (xii)); IOC-WMO-UNEP/
I-GOOS-IV/3, at 21 (No. 161).
98
Design Principle D7 (note 86); the GOOS data and information management is
described in GOOS Prospectus (note 2), at 73.
99
 See IOC Resolution XX-11, leading to the establishment of an ad hoc working
group on oceanographic data exchange policy which later was replaced by an intergov-
ernmental working group (IOC Resolution EC-XXXIII.4); see European Commission,
Summary Report “Legal Aspects of Marine Environmental Data”, Framework Service
Contract, No. FISH 2006/09–LOT 2, which examines the legal problems of data
exchange in detail from a European perspective.
1428 peter ehlers

After detailed discussions by specific working groups, the Assembly

at its 22nd session adopted the IOC Oceanographic Data Exchange
Policy.100 Recognizing that the timely, free and unrestricted interna-
tional exchange of oceanographic data is essential for the efficient
acquisition, integration and use of ocean observations, the exchange
policy is framed by six different clauses which are listed in detail. For all
data, metadata and products generated under the auspices of IOC pro-
grammes timely, free and unrestricted access shall be provided, whereas
for other data the Member States are only encouraged to provide timely,
free and unrestricted access, in particular for non-commercial use by
the research and education communities. The policy acknowledges the
right of States and data originators to determine the exchange terms in
a manner consistent with international conventions, where applicable.
It aims at giving non-discriminatory access without charge to data
generated within GOOS, insofar as they are not used for commercial
purposes, which means that they are not conducted for profit, cost-
recovery or re-sale.101 However, this decision does not create any bind-
ing obligations on Member States, but is of a recommendatory nature
only.

II. Legal Framework for the Collection of Oceanographic Data

In the context of the open ocean GOOS module great significance was
attached at the end of the 1990s to the Global Ocean Data Assimilation
Experiment (GODAE)102 and the related international Argo project, a
project for a global array of 3,000 profiling floats to be deployed in
open ocean waters to cover the global ocean.103 The Argo project was
accepted as an important contribution to GOOS and should be
fully consistent with UNCLOS. A specific problem was identified as the
floats, though deployed on the high seas,104 may drift into waters

100
 IOC Resolution XXII-6.
101
This policy is in line with the WMO policy on the exchange of meteorological
and related data and products (WMO Resolution 40 (Cg-XII)).
102
GODAE is a pilot project in the context of UN-sponsored observation pro-
grammes to contribute to marine and atmospheric forecast; see C. P. Summerhayes/
R. Rayner, Operational Oceanography, in: J. G. Field/G. Hempel/C. P. Summerhayes
(eds.), Oceans 2020, 187, at 203 (2002).
103
The Argo project aims at measuring temperature and salinity in the upper 2,000
m of the water column.
104
 For details see K. Bork/J. Karstensen/M. Visbeck/A. Zimmermann, The Legal
Regulation of Floats and Gliders–In Quest of a New Regime?, 39 Ocean Development
and International Law 298 (2008).
 the governance of the global ocean observing system1429

under national jurisdiction. Different views were expressed on

the question whether the collection of data by Argo floats should be
considered to be marine scientific research, requiring consent by the
coastal State under the provisions of Art. 246 UNCLOS, or an opera-
tional activity which should be treated in a similar way to meteorologi-
cal activities.105 The IOC Advisory Board of Experts on the Law of the
Sea (ABE-LOS), which was tasked to study the legal implications
including the feasibility of a legal instrument,106 needed nine years of
thorough discussions about legal requirements and practicability107
before the EC at its 41st session in 2008 could adopt specific guide-
lines.108 Following these guidelines any Member State must be informed
in advance of any Argo programme float which may enter its EEZ.
In implementing this provision Member States have to inform the
Executive Secretary of the IOC if they wish to be notified about
the deployment of such floats. All data obtained by Argo floats, once
they enter the EEZ, will be made freely available, with the exception of
data of direct significance for the exploration and exploitation of natu-
ral resources, which the coastal State requires not to be distributed.
No action taken on the basis of the guidelines shall be considered to
prejudice the positions of States parties to a land or maritime
sovereign dispute or to a dispute concerning the delimitation of mari-
time areas. The guidelines do not constitute binding international
law,109 but serve as a pragmatic basis for international co-operation
within the Argo programme; they are restricted to the Argo floats and
cannot be applied to the collection of oceanographic data in general.
The 63rd General Assembly of the United Nations in 2008
explicitly welcomed the guidelines and encouraged ABE-LOS to
continue its work on the legal framework for the collection of
oceanographic data by other specific means.110 However, as the
question whether data collection is an operational activity or part

105
 See F. Wegelein, Marine Scientific Research, at 181, 227 (2005).
106
 IOC Resolution XX-6.
107
The difficult process is reflected in IOC Resolutions XXI-2, XXII-12,
EC-XXXVII.8, XXIII-8, EC-XXXIX.7, XXIV-12.
108
Guidelines for the implementation of Resolution XX-6 of the Assembly regard-
ing the deployment of floats within the high seas in the framework of the Argo pro-
gramme (IOC Resolution EC-XLI.4); for details see A. Mateos/M. Gorina-Ysern,
Climate Change and Guidelines for Argo Profiling Float Deployment on the High Sea,
ASIL Insight, print version, Vol. 14, Issue 8 (April 8, 2010).
109
 Bork (note 104), at 317.
110
United Nations General Assembly Resolution A/Res 63/111, para. 144.
1430 peter ehlers

of marine scientific research is still controversial, there is no great

hope that the IOC will be in a position to find a solution in the near
future.111

G. The European Approach to GOOS

Quite early in the 1990s several oceanographic institutes in Europe

started to intensify their co-operation with the aim of fostering the
European contribution to GOOS. However, this initiative was not pri-
marily influenced and guided by governments in fulfilling their com-
mitments to GOOS, but was a more or less non-governmental
bottom-up process driven by interested agencies and institutes from
different European countries. In 1994 they agreed on a Memorandum
of Understanding112 to establish an association under the name of
EuroGOOS, which in 1999 was replaced by the EuroGOOS
Agreement.113 EuroGOOS is an unincorporated association which at
present has 35 members in 18 European countries114 and is financed
through members’ annual subscriptions.115
The objectives of EuroGOOS are to promote European operational
oceanography including research relating to operational oceanogra-
phy, to co-operate and to improve the members’ ability to carry out
their duties, to promote the sustained production of required services
at scales larger than national, and to give advice in particular in the
context of activities of the European Union.116

111
 At the 25th session of the Assembly ABE-LOS reported that the deployment of
floats and XBTs in exclusive economic zones does not require specific guidelines, but
should be dealt with by bilateral agreements (IOC-XXV/3, at 17 (No. 130)).
112
 Signed on 14 December 1994.
113
“Agreement for the creation of an association of marine operational and research
agencies in Europe, EuroGOOS, whose members seek to foster European co-
operation on the Global Ocean Observing System” (in the following EuroGOOS
Agreement), signed on 3 December 1999, available at http://www.eurogoos.org/
documents/eurogoos/downloads/eg99_18eurogoosagreement2009.pdf.
114
 Including agencies from Norway and the Russian Federation as non-EU Member
States (date: Oct. 1, 2010).
115
 Art. 4 para 1 (a) EuroGOOS Agreement.
116
 Art. 2 EuroGOOS Agreement, for details see J. D. Woods/H. Dahlin/L. Droppert/
M. Glass/S. Vallerga/N. C. Flemming, The EuroGOOS Strategy, EuroGOOS Publication
No. 1 (1996); J. D. Woods/H. Dahlin/L. Droppert/M. Glass/S. Vallerga/N. C. Flemming,
The EuroGOOS Plan, EuroGOOS Publication No. 3 (1997).
 the governance of the global ocean observing system1431

The principal organ of EuroGOOS is the Annual Meeting of all

members, chaired by the EuroGOOS Chairman.117 Between Annual
Meetings the powers of the association are exercised by the Board
composed of officers elected at the Annual Meeting.118 EuroGOOS has
established several working groups and task teams.119 The administra-
tive management is performed by the EuroGOOS Office which is
headed by the Director.120 The Office is hosted by the Swedish
Meteorological and Hydrological Institute, one of the EuroGOOS
members, which acts as the legal entity for EuroGOOS on behalf
of the association. EuroGOOS participates in particular in the work of
I-GOOS and JCOMM, as well as in other global and European
bodies dealing with marine observation and related services. It acts as
advisor in EU projects and initiatives and participates in projects
through its members. The main achievements of EuroGOOS are to be
seen in the co-ordination and strengthening of co-operation in the
field of operational oceanography. EuroGOOS task teams have built up
five regional operational oceanographic systems (ROOSs) which cover
nearly all European waters.121
At present EuroGOOS is heavily involved in two European
initiatives relating to operational oceanography. The EU promotes a
European earth observation programme on Global Monitoring for
Environment and Security (GMES) to provide information on how
the earth and its climate are changing. GMES, which also comprises
marine services, aims at a system for collecting data from multiple
sources, processing these data and providing users with reliable and
up-to-date information.122 EuroGOOS collaborates closely with the
European Commission in defining marine core services as part
of the GMES programme. This has become the basis for MyOcean,

117
 Art. 5 EuroGOOS Agreement.
118
 Art. 7 EuroGOOS Agreement, para. 12 EuroGOOS Rules, available at http;//
www.eurogoos.org/documents/eurogoos/downloads/eg02_02eurogoos_rules2003.
pdf.
119
 Art. 8 EuroGOOS Agreement; in particular working groups are established for
science, technology, data exchange and products.
120
 Art. 9 EuroGOOS Agreement.
121
Those areas are the Baltic Sea, North Sea, Ireland-Biscay-Iberia Region, the
Mediterranean Sea and the Arctic Region.
122
 See the overview of GMES, available at http://www.gmes.info/pages-principales/
overview.
1432 peter ehlers

a project under the 7th EU Research and Development Framework

Programme with the objective of setting up concerted and integrated
pan-European capacity for ocean monitoring and forecasting.123 As
MyOcean is timely restricted, the services, developed by the project, in
the end must develop into a sustained operational system. One of the
challenges is to establish an organization which can provide such a
long-term service.124 As part of an integrated maritime policy the
European Commission intends to set up a new European Marine
Observation and Data Network (EMODNET) aiming at improving the
availability of high quality marine data by bringing together Europe’s
existing institutions which collect, assess and apply marine data into a
sustainable framework.125 In this context the Commission is consider-
ing providing a secretariat by charging an existing institution or a
newly established entity with co-ordination tasks.126
Both these initiatives127 in the end will call for an overarching
organizational architecture, including a body for the necessary man-
agement, co-ordination and consultative expert work. In the light of
these developments EuroGOOS is currently considering its future role,
in particular with regard to possible new responsibilities. This may
require the transformation of EuroGOOS into a body with legal per-
sonality separate from its members. As the establishment of an inter-
governmental organization seems to be rather difficult and
time-consuming transformation into an Economic Interest Group
could be a possible solution, using the model set by the national mete-
orological services in Europe.128

123
 A project description is available at http;//www.gmes.info/pages-principales/
projects/myocean.
124
 A possible solution could be the establishment of a European Centre for Ocean
Monitoring and Forecasting, following the example of the meteorological services
which have created a European Centre for Medium Weather Forecast, based on an
intergovernmental agreement.
125
 For details see European Commission, Building a European marine knowledge
infrastructure: Roadmap for a European Marine Observation and Data Network,
Commission Staff Working Document, SEC(2009) 499 final.
126
 Id., at 33.
127
 At present it still seems unclear how EMODNET and the GMES Marine Core
Service will fit together. In the view of the Commission they are mutually synergistic as
a better overview and availability of observation data achievable through EMODNET
will help to meet GMES requirements for input data, and GMES on the other hand
constitutes a powerful driver for achieving sustainability for existing observation sys-
tems and for making the case for needed observations, id., at 38.
128
The meteorological services have established an economic interest group named
EUMETNET to organize the co-operation and represent its members vis-à-vis third
parties, including the relevant institutions of the European Union.
 the governance of the global ocean observing system1433

H. Conclusions

I. Unsolved Problems
After twenty years of planning, development and implementation
activities GOOS is still far from being realized as a sustained ocean
observation system. The work has more or less concentrated on the
open ocean module which is of specific importance with regard to cli-
mate change. However, this module has only been implemented for
about 60 per cent compared to the extent which has been recom-
mended.129 The coastal module, which is needed in particular for
coastal area management and environment protection, not least in
developing countries, is still under development. In addition the Arctic
has been identified as a region where efforts are needed with regard
also to new technologies to establish a sustained observation system.130
But even if GOOS is restricted to a complete and sustained climate
module, this still constitutes a political and financial challenge.
Therefore the Assembly at its 25th session decided to focus on making
the open ocean module sustainable, i. e. transforming it into a long-
term service. Given that substantial funding is still lacking, further
development of GOOS relating to the other three modules which were
envisaged at the beginning seems unlikely.131
For improving the implementation of GOOS consideration should
be given to recommendations from Baker132 concerning the develop-
ment of a business plan, the restructuring of the GOOS organization
and more cost-effective operations. The business plan requires a careful
analysis of the products, the users and how to bring them together.
Instead of being science driven the system must put much more empha-
sis on the “user pull”. That includes a clear focus on products and ser-
vices to be delivered, marketing, capacity building and free and open
data access.
Apart from a convincing business plan the organizational structure
of GOOS has to be revised. There are still too many bodies exercising
responsibilities with regard to GOOS. Though I-GOOS is intended to

129
 See IOC/EC-XLI/3, at 30 (no 231); GOOS Brochure (note 2), at 10; Baker
(note 14), at 5.
130
 See K. Alverston, Filling the Gaps in GOOS, 3 Journal of Ocean Technology 19
(2008), who describes the existing gaps in detail; also Gérard (note 64), at 7.
131
 See GOOS Brochure (note 2), at 11.
132
 Baker (note 14), at 2.
1434 peter ehlers

represent the participating States as an intergovernmental body it

cannot take final decisions, which are left to the Assembly and the EC.
It remains unclear whether Assembly decisions require the consent of
the WMO and UNEP as co-sponsor organizations. I-GOOS is more
or less reduced to some preparatory expert body.133 This has effects on
the level of the national representatives in I-GOOS who are not author-
ized to accept binding commitments for their States.134 Though the
responsibilities of I-GOOS, GSSC and ICOMM are defined in terms of
reference, in practice there is still the risk of overlapping, duplication
and conflicts of competence. Among others this problem becomes
obvious by the calling of GSSC a “Steering” Committee. That may
accommodate scientific independence, but is however contradictory to
its function of giving advice to I-GOOS; GSSC may misunderstand
that GOOS is not a scientific project, but a long-term operational
programme. The relations between I-GOOS and the GRC are not really
clear, as the GRAs are not part of the IOC structure and emphasize
their independence. It is not surprising that at the 25th session of the
Assembly several Members again queried the present number and
organization of the GOOS subsidiary bodies, and recommended
an independent assessment of effectiveness with a view to simplifying
and slimming down the structure of GOOS, avoiding unnecessary
duplication and clarifying the role of the Assembly in providing
governance. In the light of the ongoing discussions the EC in 2010
acknowledged the need to optimize the governance structures in order
to concentrate on implementation, and decided that this issue had
to be further considered at the 26th session of the Assembly in 2011
on the basis of proposals to be elaborated by the I-GOOS Board.135
There are good arguments for following Baker’s view when he recom-
mends that I-GOOS should be dissolved and the Assembly should
either take on its functions or a new body should be established.136
Such a new body, however, seems only reasonable if it is empowered
to make the necessary decisions for implementing GOOS including
funding commitments, and if all other bodies are subordinated to it.

133
 See the critical discussion of the role of I-GOOS at the 5th meeting of the
I-GOOS Board (IOC-WMO-UNEP-ICSU/I-GOOS Board-V, at 3.
134
The EC therefore calls for a high-level mechanism of national representation, see
IOC/EC-XXXIX/3, at 21 (No. 152).
135
 IOC/EC-XLIII/3, at 11 (Decision 5.2).
136
 Baker (note 14), at 15
 the governance of the global ocean observing system1435

In the end the crucial factor still is the willingness of States to com-
mit themselves to GOOS. As long as this is left to their discretion and
no binding obligations are established, it seems extremely doubtful
whether the financial problems will be solved and the States will con-
tribute to the system through sustained national observations and ser-
vices. The current funding mechanism using short-term research
programme funding and indefinitely extended pilot projects, will not
create the sustained observation system needed.137
This is also a problem for the development of operational ocean ser-
vices at the European level. Even if EuroGOOS is transformed into an
EIG, it is still a grouping of agencies and institutions without any man-
date to act on behalf of governments and enter into long-term financial
obligations. This becomes even more complicated as several institu-
tions from the same State may be EuroGOOS members, so that an
internal national co-ordination is required to ascertain whether these
members speak with one voice and act jointly, if national interests are
concerned.

II. International Agreement

In the light of the present situation of GOOS it should be considered
again whether there is still the need to base GOOS on a formal interna-
tional agreement which creates binding obligations for the Contracting
Parties.138 Such an agreement could comprise in particular the follow-
ing issues:
– Principles for the design and implementation of GOOS: they can
build on the already existing principles, elaborated by I-GOOS.
– Governing structure: this issue will probably be most controversial,
as there are many questions to be solved in this context. These
include a clear definition of the role of the IOC, WMO and UNEP
and the related question whether the IOC Assembly should be the
supreme body for GOOS matters or whether this should be left to a
separate intergovernmental body composed of the contracting par-
ties and sponsor organizations. In addition the GRAs and the GRC

137
 See IOC/EC-XLI/3, at 30 (No. 232); GOOS Bochure (note 2), at 10.
138
 See the proposal for a UNESCO Convention by K. Alverson/D. J. Baker, Taking
the Pulse of the Ocean, 314 Science 1657 (2006); see also K. Alverson, The Global
Ocean Observing System (GOOS), Hydro international, April 2008, at 32, who advo-
cates restricting an international agreement to those States most engaged in GOOS.
1436 peter ehlers

have to be definitively integrated into the governance hierarchy of

GOOS. Furthermore the relations between the supreme GOOS body
and the GSSC and JCOMM have to be clarified by unambiguously
emphasizing that the latter two have only supportive functions.
Worth consideration is Baker’s recommendation to dissolve the
GSSC and merge the two existing GSSC panels for ocean and coastal
observation into a joint body.139 In this context also the role of ICSU
as a non-governmental organization has to be discussed as well as
the involvement of other NGOs including the users’ communities.
– Secretariat: the current solution seems most appropriate. This means
that the secretarial tasks are performed by a GOOS Office as a sepa-
rate unit of the IOC Secretariat. However, it can be misleading if
this unit is called a “project” office, as GOOS, due to its long-term
character, should not be treated as a project, but is a permanent
programme.
– Role of IOC: it could be beneficial if the agreement explicitly defined
and strengthened the role of the IOC within UNESCO and created
autonomous responsibilities for the IOC with regard to operational
oceanography. As a consequence the IOC has to become more inde-
pendent from the UNESCO budget, including being given the
authorization to establish its own membership contributions for the
GOOS organization.
– Firm commitments: an international agreement makes sense only if
it creates a clear obligation for the Contracting Parties a) to pay
membership contributions for and participate in the international
governance of GOOS, b) to implement the agreed GOOS pro-
gramme through activities of their national ocean observation agen-
cies and institutions, c) to strengthen the regional approach by
participating in GRAs, and d) to give support with regard to capacity
building for developing countries.
– Legal matters: moreover an international GOOS agreement should
also be used to resolve the legal questions relating to operational
ocean observations, concerning in particular the legal framework
for the collection of ocean data, but also access to those data.
However, in the end all endeavours to elaborate an international agree-
ment will fail if the States are not truly willing to enter into long-term
commitments for GOOS and acknowledge this as a political priority

 Baker (note 14), at 18.

139
 the governance of the global ocean observing system1437

issue. Therefore it still remains of utmost significance to make the case

for GOOS by convincing policy makers about the compelling need for
GOOS as an indispensable prerequisite for ocean governance and sus-
tainable development of the seas as well as for societal responses to
climate change.140

140
The latest attempt of the IOC to convince policy makers was made in the GOOS
Brochure (note 2).
 The UN Oligarchs and Their Privileges

Tono Eitel

In the seventies and eighties of the last century, Rüdiger Wolfrum

advised the German Federal Ministry of Economics on matters dealing
with the Law of the Sea and Antarctica. There was then a conference in
Wellington (New Zealand) on the mineral resources of Antarctica,
where the two of us participated, sent by our respective Ministries.
Rüdiger was not only the most knowledgeable, but also the most influ-
ential member of the German delegation. He mediated between those
States which wanted the minerals and those which, for environmental
reasons, wanted to leave them untouched; he went between industrial-
ized and developing States and, above all, between non-claimant and
claimant States. Not the least thanks to Rüdiger Wolfrum the meeting,
after several weeks of negotiations, ended with the signing of a draft
agreement (which, however, never made it to entering into force).
When some time ago I came to think of the UN Oligarchs, I was
reminded of Rüdiger Wolfrum’s successes in dealing with the similarly
dominant claimant States and their inconspicuous but determined
negotiating postures.1 On the occasion of his jubilee, though, I want
also to mention the part in Rüdiger’s achievements in law and life
played by his amiable wife Hilde who, lucky man, has always been there
to be consulted and to look after him (and their friends and guests).

A. Introduction

When this article addresses the ‘UN Oligarchs’, it should be clear who
is meant: of course, the five Permanent Members of the UN Security
Council, colloquially known as the ‘Permanent’ or ‘P Five’ (‘P 5’).
Pursuant to Arts. 23 and 110 of the UN Charter2 these Five are ‘The
Republic of China, France, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, the

1
 An earlier version of this article was my Erich Sucharipa Memorial Lecture, given
at the Vienna Diplomatic Academy in May 2008.
2
 In the following text unspecified Articles are those of the UN Charter.
1440 tono eitel

United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, and the United
States of America’. The text of these Articles gives a first taste of the
influence of those Powers: In a context of utmost importance two of
them are listed under incorrect names: the ‘Republic of China’ is the
Chinese entity, eventually reduced to the island of Taiwan, which since
1971 has as such no longer been a member of the UN; its successor as
China’s representative in the UN and in the permanent seat is the
‘People’s Republic of China’; the Soviet Union for its part broke up in
1991 and, with the endorsement of the member States of the Common­
wealth of Independent States, the Russian Federation simply informed
the Secretary-General of the United Nations that it was continuing the
Soviet membership.3 No UN member objected. Apparently the Charter
has in these cases been overtaken by an undisputed state practice com-
bined with a somewhat vague opinio iuris and the well known dislike–
they can only lose–of the Permanent Five of opening the Charter to
amendment proposals and procedures. Had this sufficed to create cus-
tomary law, the Charter would have been amended without any fur-
ther proceedings. But, in view of the explicit Charter regulations
(Arts. 108,109), member states expect that this change of names will be
formalized at a future occasion.
Oligarchy is a word of Greek origin meaning the reign (arché) of a
few (olígoi). Oligarchs are then the happy few who are in command.
History has seen states which were governed by a few men or by
descendents of a few families; ancient Rome at the time of Julius Cesar
and the triumvirs4 could serve as an example. In more recent days the
term ‘oligarchs’ has come to designate those Russian billionaires who
wield great influence, and are suspected of doing so even beyond the
field of their original engagement, and thus to have a say in political
affairs.
Quite appropriately the Greek word arché also means ‘beginning’.
The UN Oligarchs are then the five member states who were influential
at the beginning of the Organization and therefore have been able to
secure for themselves the well upholstered permanent seats in the
Security Council, and who from those seats and some other equally

3
For China see GA Res.2758 (XXVI) of 25 October 1971; for Russia see Letter dated
24 December 1991, endorsement 31 ILM 138 (1992).
4
1st triumvirate: Cesar with Pompey and Crassus, 60 BC; 2nd triumvirate: Cesar
with Antony and Lepidus, 43 BC.
 the un oligarchs and their privileges1441

comfortable easy chairs seem to run much of the organization, cer-

tainly more than just the Security Council. The title of a recent book
captures quite well the impact of the Permanent Five’s role: ‘Five to
Rule Them All–The UN Security Council and the Making of the
Modern World’.5

B. The Oligarchs’ Privileges

When examining the permanent members’ position a bit more closely,

it may be helpful to distinguish their privileges according to their being
granted or exercised: First, within the Security Council, second, out-
side it (but still within the UN Charter), and third, even outside the
Charter.

I. In the Security Council

1. The first privilege of the P 5 within the Council is the permanence of
their membership of the Council (Art. 23 (1)). They were not just pre-
sent at the creation of the Organization, but, equally important, have
been there ever since. They know every item on the agenda from its
beginnings. They know the procedures and the precedents, and the
interpretations given to both. In international relations, generally bind-
ing law is scarce and a law-enforcing authority does not exist outside a
self-contained regime; that is why precedents and arguments which
were accepted earlier are most important tools in Council discussions;
they often carry the day.
A non-permanent member, on the other hand, may never have been
a member of the Council before, or perhaps only ten or twenty years
ago. Sometimes its delegate in the Council may feel like a player joining
a football team without knowing much of the rules. It is not often that
he or she can make his or her case as convincingly as the P 5 colleague.
Therefore, most of the elected members’ delegates fall into step behind
a permanent member’s delegate most of the time. That way the P 5
clearly run the business. If, for example, the P 5 have agreed on a deci-
sion to be taken with respect to Iran, the world knows that soon the
Security Council will translate that decision into a Resolution.

 David L. Bosco, Five to Rule Them All (2009); see also below I.6, II.5, III.
5
1442 tono eitel

This de facto preponderance of the P 5 is aggravated by a practice

which was introduced years ago, i.e. the holding of daily so-called
‘Informal Consultations’ behind closed doors.6 It is there that any pro-
posal is discussed, and eventually any Presidential Statement or any
Resolution is drafted, up to the last comma in the six official languages.
Only then are non-members of the Council and the public at large
informed of the results–if there are any–of the Council’s secret delib-
erations during a public session held in the ‘Security Council Chamber’.
The ‘Provisional Rules of Procedure of the Security Council’ do not
acknowledge these ‘informal consultations’, but only speak of–regular–
‘public’ and–exceptional–‘private’ meetings (Rule 48). In the rare pri-
vate meetings official records are kept, but the public is not admitted.
The lack of transparency caused by these ‘informal consultations’ leaves
a country concerned which is not a member of the Council in the dark
until the promulgation of the Council’s decision; it also takes away any
chance of building up from the outside, e.g. from official records, a
report of Council discussions. ‘Informal Consultations’ as such are cer-
tainly a customary and legal procedure in diplomacy and within inter-
national organizations; the unforeseen wall of secrecy, however, which
is by this practice, in general and as a matter of routine, erected round
the Council’s deliberations seems hardly to be in agreement with the
Charter’s and the Provisional Rules’ construction of the Council’s
methods of work. As long as this practice prevails, and since knowl-
edge is power, the permanence of the P 5’s membership gives them an
extra share of influence by simply making them the best informed
members of the Council.
The ‘Provisional Rules of Procedure’ themselves have been provi-
sional for more than 60 years; but the P 5 have little interest in opening
them to a discussion; they would rather forgo their translation into a
definitive set of rules. The P 5’s lack of interest is understandable, since,
in their common ‘San Francisco Declaration’ of 7 June 1945,7 they had–
under pressure–explicitly exempted the Council’s rules of procedure

6
I have criticised this lack of transparency earlier in: The UN Security Council and
its Future Contribution in the Field of International Law, 4 Max Planck Yearbook of
United Nations Law 53, at 59 (2000).
7
The text of the San Francisco Declaration (China, Soviet Union, UK, USA) of
7 June 1945, in which France concurred the following day, is found in Simma/Brunner/
Kaul, MN 154 to Art. 27 in: B. Simma (ed.), The Charter of the United Nations (2nd ed.
2002).
 the un oligarchs and their privileges1443

from their veto, since they were–as will be explained immediately

below–a procedural matter.
2. The second privilege which the Permanent Five secured for them-
selves is, of course, the veto just mentioned. Art. 27 (2) exempts ‘proce-
dural matters’ from the veto; Art. 27 (3), then, enables each individual
permanent member to bar decisions of the Council ‘on all other mat-
ters’. This leaves open the preliminary question whether a matter under
discussion in the Council is a ‘procedural’ one, i.e. not allowing for a
veto, or a non-procedural one (in the words of the Charter any ‘other
matter’), thus allowing a veto. One could imagine plenty of agenda
items where it would be rather difficult to make this determination, to
say nothing about mala fide discussions. At the 1945 Founding San
Francisco Conference, our Oligarchs did not want to leave such an
important question open, and therefore issued a common Statement,
the above-mentioned San Francisco Declaration. This Declaration
stated in a rather authoritative way the opinion of the major powers
that “the decision regarding the preliminary question as to whether or
not such a matter is procedural” had to be taken by a decision exposed
to the veto. This ‘travail préparatoire’ has as good as settled the ‘prelimi-
nary question’, but was hardly ever put to the test. Still, the veto and, in
case of need, the ‘double veto’ gives each permanent member its chasse
gardée of potentially unlimited ambit; it is the foundation stone of what
appears to be their oligopoly.
Yet, basically, each of them is a monopolist, since they do not need
any help to cast or to threaten to cast a veto. The decision regarding a
second term for Secretary-General Boutros-Ghali, due in December
1996, was a case in point. During the hybrid ‘Informal Consultations’/
‘Private Meetings’ (the latter are prescribed by Rule 48 of the Provisional
Rules of Procedure of the Security Council for the discussion of a rec-
ommendation of the Council to the General Assembly regarding the
appointment of a Secretary-General) which lasted more than a week,
the United States was the only one to oppose re-election, and in the
preliminary–just indicative–straw-poll votes voted against throughout.
Then, one by one, the other permanent members came round, and
finally Kofi Annan, the US candidate from the beginning and certainly
a brilliantly outstanding candidate, was recommended–and elected.
A formal American veto was avoided by playing it out in the informal
consultations. This is where and how the veto usually works: the threat
to use it normally suffices to bring the P 5 to their exclusive internal
negotiation table (they have their own room in the Secretariat ­building)
1444 tono eitel

until, sometimes after months and months, they have agreed a pro-
posal to submit to the non-permanent members who normally follow
suit. Iran and Darfur are actual examples. NATO’s air war against
Serbia, on the other hand, never reached the Council, because Russia
had made known its definitive opposition (implying a threat of veto) to
this use of force and any supporting resolution already in an informal
‘Contact Group’, whereas any critical discussion in the Council was
blocked by the P 5 NATO members.
Since most of the time the five monopolists operate as an oligopoly,
they have to bring an opponent somehow into the fold, thereby avoid-
ing his veto and seeing to it that everybody has his turn. Exceptionally,
when one of the Oligarchs becomes too demanding the others refuse to
give him cover and make him cast the unpopular veto in public. This
happens, for example, if the veto seems to the other permanent mem-
bers to be too far fetched, e.g. protecting the interests of a client state
instead of the veto power itself, as is often the case with Israel and the
United States or, less frequently, Serbia or, more recently Syria and
Russia. The US has meanwhile developed a rather cool indifference as
regards its reputation for casting vetoes: Between 1990 and 2007 it cast
a veto 15 times and was during that period the only power to do so.8 A
similar attitude had previously been exhibited by the Soviet Union in
the heyday of the Cold War. In June 2009 Russia was led to veto the
prolongation of the UN Observer Mission in Georgia in defence of her
position in the Georgia–South Ossetia conflict.9
3. But the US–Israel and the Russian–Serbian or Russian–Syrian rela-
tionships or the Russian–Georgian problems may still be brought
under the heading of ‘maintenance of international peace and security’,
for which task the member states of the UN have indeed, in Art. 24,
conferred the primary responsibility on the Security Council. The
Security Council, and through it the Permanent Five, has, however,
been assigned an obligatory role also in matters not directly affecting
‘international peace and security’. It is, for example, difficult to see how
a second term, which is normally given to every Secretary-General, in
the case of Secretary-General Boutros-Ghali could have had a negative
impact on ‘international peace and security’. Yet we have Art. 97 which

8
M.E. Bouillon, Zwischen den Stühlen, 55 Vereinte Nationen 221, at 225 (2007).
9
UN Security Council, 6143rd meeting, 15 June 2009, Draft Res. S/2009/310.
 the un oligarchs and their privileges1445

lays down that the Secretary-General shall be appointed by the General

Assembly ‘upon the recommendation of the Security Council’. If thus
the role of the Security Council is secured, even prescribed, one still
could wonder how in so administrative a decision the veto, or rather its
threat, might be justified. We were dealing here with a case in which it
was not its relevance for ‘international peace and security’ but just the
administrative involvement of the Council and then the personal dis-
like of one of the P 5 which led to a veto situation and the ousting of a
deserving Secretary-General.10 The usual argument in favour of the
right to veto also in these cases, i.e. that any Secretary-General needs
the confidence and resulting support of each permanent member, is a
circular one: It only goes to show to what extent the P 5 already meddle
in the normal business of ‘the chief administrative officer of the
organization’(Art. 97). Little wonder that there are observers who see
the Security Council as the instrument of the Permanent Members
with which to pursue farfetched particular interests.11
Art. 97 is not the only sally of the Security Council from its role
in the immediate ‘maintenance of international peace and security’
into other fields. The Charter gives the Council a say in a number
of decisions only vaguely related to ‘international peace and security’,
e.g. on the admission, suspension, and expulsion of a member state
(Arts. 4, 5, 6). Thus, even in these more administrative matters the P 5,
through the Council, weigh in heavily and, of course, also claim their
right to a veto. When Germany was still divided, each German State
would have loved to become a member of the UN. The West German
Federal Republic however was adamantly against the membership of
the East German Democratic Republic and could–easily–convince the
three Western Powers to block by threat of veto the access of the East
Germans. The Soviet Union responded with a similar threat against
West Germany. So the two German States remained outside the UN for
the first 24 years of their existence. Only in 1973 was the time ripe for

10
Boutros-Ghali himself has described (B.Boutros-Ghali, Unvanquished, (1999))
his falling out with the American UN delegation, especially its head, Madeleine
Albright. Former USG C. Gharekhan describes in detail the 1996 election in the
Council in his book ‘The Horseshoe Table–An Inside View of the UN-Security Council’,
at 286–301 (2006).
11
M. Heupel, Schutz für die Beschützer, 57 Vereinte Nationen 104, at 105 (2009),
speaks of “absent legitimation” and of the Council as “instrument of the West, particu-
larly the USA”, with further references.
1446 tono eitel

an agreement between the two German States, the P 3 (France, UK,

and US), and the Soviet Union concerning UN membership for each
German State: the threats of mutual vetoes were dropped.12 In a similar
vein, China is active in barring Taiwan’s entry to the UN, and we shall
see how Russia (and possibly also China) will react to a future applica-
tion by Kosovo for UN membership.
4. In addition to the administrative matters mentioned, the Security
Council, and through it the P 5, holds a similar, decisive position in
some judicial matters. With respect to the International Court of Justice
(ICJ) the Council, together with the General Assembly, elects every
member of the Court (Art. 4 of the Statute of the ICJ). Moreover, the
Council and, separately, the P 5, according to Art. 69 of the Statute,
wield the same exorbitant influence regarding amendments to the
Statute as is described below for amendments to the UN Charter.13
Furthermore, the Council may intervene, first, regarding non-
compliance with decisions of the Court and, second, regarding the
request for an advisory opinion (Arts. 94, 96).14 In these cases too, the
P 5 exert their influence and by a veto may prevent decisions they do
not like. A sad example of such a veto, and apparently the only one ever
cast re­garding non-compliance with an ICJ judgment, is the case of the
US veto (1986) against a draft resolution accepting a Nicaraguan com-
plaint. The complaint was made to the Security Council pursuant to
Art. 94; it asked for help against American non-compliance with the
judgment of the International Court of Justice in the Nicaragua Case.15
Art. 94 (2) grants “the other party” recourse to the Security Council, “if
any party to a case fails to perform the obligations incumbent upon it
under a judgment rendered by the Court”. This the USA had notori-
ously done by continuing to support rebels against the Nicaraguan gov-
ernment. Oellers-Frahm quite rightly wonders about the legitimacy of
the USA’s participation in the relevant vote in the Council: It is true that
Art. 94 is not mentioned in Art. 27 which prescribes abstention in cer-
tain cases. But the ground rule, that a party to the dispute should nor-
mally abstain from voting, seems to me quite easily recognizable. Yet,

12
For details see B. Zündorf, Die Ostverträge, at 286 et seq. (1979).
13
 See below II.4.
14
For the difference between ‘procedural’ and ‘non-procedural matters’ regarding a
Council request for an advisory opinion see Simma/Brunner/Kaul, MN 16 to Art. 27
and Mosler/Oellers-Frahm, MN 13 to Art. 96, both in: B. Simma (ed.) (note 7).
15
Military and Paramilitary Activities in and against Nicaragua (Nicaragua v. United
States), ICJ Reports 1986, 14 et seq.
 the un oligarchs and their privileges1447

no Council member objected to the American participation in the vote

or disputed the validity of its negative result.16
Still speaking of the UN judiciary, the two International Criminal
Tribunals, called into being by simple Security Council resolutions
(Res.808 and 827 of 1993 for the Former Yugoslavia and Res. 955 of
1994 for Rwanda), come to mind. The legality of the Council’s reaching
out into penal jurisdiction was not evident to everybody.17 Art. 41, nor-
mally meant for levying sanctions, together with Art. 29, allowing the
creation of subsidiary organs of the Council, had to serve as the legal
basis. It is true that Art. 92 calls the International Court of Justice the
‘principal judicial organ of the United Nations’, thereby not excluding
the possibility of subsidiary judicial organs. Still, the Council, and
through it again the P 5, ascribed to itself an unexpected new compe-
tence to fight impunity and created, along with the Tribunals them-
selves, the legal framework for these Tribunals’ work.
This influential role in conceiving the structure and procedures of
the Tribunals made all the difference, at least for the United States. That
can be seen, outside the UN judiciary, by the American opposition to
the International Criminal Court (ICC), which was not created by
the Security Council but by a well attended diplomatic conference,
which also prescribed the legal framework for the Court’s work.18 After
heavy American lobbying, the ICC Statute (Art.16) provides for the
deferment of the prosecution of cases if the Security Council under
Chapter VII of the Charter asks for it. Therefore the US then intro-
duced and managed to steer through the Council its Res.1422 (2002)
requesting the Court to grant nationals of states which had not ratified
the Court’s Statute (e.g. the USA) immunity from prosecution for
crimes committed during their participation in UN missions. This
grant was to be renewed annually, until in the wake of the Abu Ghraib
scandal it became too offensive and was allowed to lapse. A more recent
test of Art. 16 of the ICC Statute and its opening to the Security Council
is the case of the ICC’s 2009 arrest warrant for President Bashir of

16
For details see K. Oellers-Frahm, MNs 29, 30 to Art. 94 UN Charter in:
A. Zimmermann/C. Tomuschat/K. Oellers-Frahm (eds.), The Statute of the Interna­
tional Court of Justice, (2006).
17
 See A. Paulus, MN 55 to Art. 29 in: B. Simma (ed.) (note 7).
18
 Statute of Rome, adopted 17 July 1998; for its relationship with the Security
Council see M. Kurth, Das Verhältnis des Internationalen Strafgerichtshofes zum
UN-Sicherheitsrat (2006); the US position described by the State Department Legal
Adviser in:104 AJIL 272 (2010).
1448 tono eitel

Sudan. While Russia and China seemed to support a move by the

African Union to have the Council defer the warrant for one year pur-
suant to Art. 16, the P 3 (France, the UK, and the USA) reportedly
refused to join in.19 Thus, the warrant, though little heeded, is still in
force.
If a permanent member of the Council looks for protection against
unwanted prosecution before the International Criminal Court, it
could therefore try to muster support for a deferment resolution like
the just mentioned Res.1422 (2002) pursuant to Art. 16 of the ICC
Statute. But protection could also be obtained in a case in which the
Council’s majority would wish, pursuant to Art. 13 of the ICC Statute,
to refer a case to the Criminal Court. Here a simple veto would suffice.
This way, each permanent member to some extent controls the admin-
istration of penal justice even by the ICC. At the ICC Statute’s Review
Conference (Kampala 31 May–11 June 2010), the P 5 as the strongest
lobbyists again managed to protect themselves (and other reluctant
States) against prosecution for the newly defined crime of ‘Aggression’
(Art.8 bis ICC Statute): They may, if they are party to the Statute
(e.g. France, UK), before ratification of the Aggression amendments
opt out of the prosecution in accordance with Art. 15bis (4) ICC Statute.
States which are not party to the Statute (e.g. China, Israel, Russia, and
USA) have been exempted by Art 15bis (5) ICC Statute from the ICC’s
jurisdiction if the aggression was committed by their nationals or, less
relevant, on their territory!20
5. Mention should finally be made of the role the Security Council
played in the UN Charter’s now obsolete ‘International Trusteeship
System’ (Art. 75 et seq). That System covered mainly those former
German and Turkish colonies or territories which had been placed
under a League of Nations’ mandate after World War I. After World
War II these mandates were turned into trust territories (Art. 77 (1)
(a)), to be administered, under the benevolent eyes of a ‘Trusteeship
Council’ (Arts. 86 et seq.), by the so-called ‘administrative authorities’,
(Art. 81) i.e. mostly by France, the United Kingdom and, for some
pacific islands, the USA. In order to have the respective trust territory
“play its part in the maintenance of international peace and security”,

19
For more details see M. P. Scharf, Introductory Note to the ICC’s Arrest Warrant
for Omar Al Bashir, President of the Sudan, 48 ILM 463, at 464 (2009).
20
The Aggression Amendments to the Rome Statute in ICC Doc RC/Res.6 (11 June
2010).
 the un oligarchs and their privileges1449

the administrative authorities could “make use of volunteer forces,

facilities, and assistance from the trust territory in carrying out the
obligations towards the Security Council undertaken … by the admin-
istering authority…” (Art. 84). Here we see a P 5 member in a rather
schizophrenic triple role of, first, the Council member who influences
the Council’s negotiating with the ‘administrative authority’, second, as
this very administrative authority, which is none other than the same
Council member and then, third, as the identical Council member,
again as ‘administrative authority’, making use of the above-mentioned
capacities of the trust territory in order to fulfil the ‘obligations’ under-
taken earlier. Arm’s length seems here to have been an unknown dis-
tance! Whereas the normal trust territory was exposed to the Security
Council and its somewhat schizophrenic Council member/administra-
tive authority only with respect to ‘international peace and security’,
there was a special category of trust territories which were designated
‘strategic areas’ (Arts. 82, 83). In practice, these were mainly the above-
mentioned Pacific islands under US administration. The Trusteeship
Council had no role whatsoever regarding these ‘strategic areas’: with
regard to them “all functions of the United Nations … shall be exer-
cised by the Security Council” (Art. 83). Little wonder that this hap-
pened to be the region where nuclear tests were held.
When in 1994 the last part of the relevant strategic area, the Pacific
archipelago of Palau, became independent, the Trusteeship System had
lost all of its territories; the Trusteeship Council had become unem-
ployed earlier. It has since been awaiting the assignment of new tasks or
its elimination from the UN Charter. I shall discuss this briefly further
below.
Looking back so far to the P 5 in the Council, we have seen them
work in a way similar to that of major shareholders in a corporation:
these wield their power over much of the entire corporation not directly
but through the Board of Directors, on which they have secured for
themselves the most influential posts. Similarly, in their quality as per-
manent members of the Security Council, the P 5 exert their influence
indirectly, through the Council, the most influential, even directing
members of which they are. They dominate the first step, the Council
decision, from which the second step, the implementation of that deci-
sion, follows, as it were automatically, without further ado: on the one
hand, binding resolutions of the Security Council, i.e. resolutions
under Chapter VII of the Charter, have to be implemented by their
addressees (Arts. 2 (6) and 25) or the Secretary-General (Arts. 97
1450 tono eitel

et seq.); and there seems, as will be discussed presently, to be no simple

legal escape from obeying binding Council decisions, since Art. 103
makes sure that obligations under the Charter ‘prevail’ over any other
obligations. On the other hand, a veto against a draft resolution has its
annihilating effect immediately.21 Thus, by doing or undoing, the
Permanent Five are the Security Council’s decision-makers.
6. A Council which has been so open to the pursuit of national, in addi-
tion to and instead of, international goals has been bound to become
the object of efforts to establish limits to its activities. These efforts have
been mainly in two directions, neither of which has so far led to clear
results: the first limitation ought to be found in general international
law, including the UN Charter and in particular ius cogens.
Orakhelashvili discusses a “school of thought which sees the Security
Council as unlimited in its powers” and “the UN collective security
mechanism …[as] intended to operate according to the will and discre-
tion of the permanent members of the Security Council … despite any
otherwise applicable international legal position”; a member of that
school is Gharekhan: “…[t]he Security Council is not a court of law…”.22
Hilpold believes that ius cogens could be used for both, extending or
delimiting the Council’s powers.23 Herdegen, for his part, focuses on a
State’s sovereignty as a barrier to certain interventions by the Council.24
However, the Council is not known for having openly recognized any
of these limitations or barriers: For example, the request addressed by
the Council’s Resolutions 1718 (2006) and 1874 (2009) to North Korea
having left the NPT “to return at an early date to the NPT and

21
 A ‘Presidential Statement’, for its part, only makes known the wishes and senti-
ments of the Council members and is not meant to impose more than a moral obliga-
tion. Presidential statements express the view of all the Council members and therefore
have to be adopted unanimously.
22
 A. Orakhelashvili, The Acts of the Security Council: Meaning and Standards of
Review, 11 Max Planck Yearbook of United Nations Law 143, at 146 (2007), referring
also to M. Reisman. C. Gharekhan (note 10), at 311.
23
P. Hilpold, EU Law and UN Law in Conflict: The Kadi Case, 13 Max Planck UN
Yearbook 141, at 170 (2009); W. Weiß sees the Security Council’s actions restrained by
“peremptory norms of international law, ius cogens”, in: Security Council Powers and
the Exigencies of Justice after War, 12 Max Planck UN Yearbook 45, at 78 (2008);
M. Kanetake quotes Goodrich/Hambro, Charter of the United Nations (2nd ed.1949),
93–94 who point to the rejection by the San Francisco Conference of a proposal to
subject Chapter VII measures to the principles of international law, in: Enhancing
Community Accountability of the Security Council through Pluralistic Structure: The
Case of the 1267 Committee, 12 Max Planck UN Yearbook 113, at 140 (2008).
24
M. Herdegen, Zeitgemäße Souveränität, in: Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, 24
June 2009, p. 9.
 the un oligarchs and their privileges1451

International Atom Energy Agency safeguards” seems to go quite

clearly into the realm of North Korean state sovereignty, in that it pre-
scribes submission to a treaty from which the State had withdrawn.25
The second legal limitation or correction of Council action could
come from the judiciary. As far as the International Court of Justice is
concerned, it has avoided disagreeing openly with a Council Resolution,
but has examined Resolutions in its proceedings dealing with a request
for the indication of provisional measures.26 Less restrained has been
the way in which the European Court of Justice challenged the binding
force of the Security Council’s sanctions in its Judgment in Joined
Cases P.Kadi and Al Barakaat (2008).27 The Court refused to apply UN
sanctions because they were in conflict with EC provisions.28 We shall
see whether this will remain the only breach battered into the Oligarchs’
Council’s lofty station.

II. Outside the Security Council

In addition to their indirect ‘corporate’ influence through the Security
Council, the P 5 have provided outside the Council, but still within the
UN Charter, for other, rather disparate, interests of theirs. These inter-
ests are catered for in Chapters XIII (The Trusteeship Council), XVII
(Transitional Security Arrangements), XVIII (Amend­ments), and XIX
(Ratification and Signature); they will now be discussed in this sequence
with the exception of the last two Chapters the sequence of which will
be inverted.
1. To come back to the Trusteeship Council, it is not relevant at present
because, for lack of work, it suspended its operations in 1994. In our
context, though, its membership still deserves a look. Pursuant to Art.
86 (1) (a), UN Members administering trust territories were automati-
cally members of the Trusteeship Council. At any given time these
were France, the UK, and the USA, the so-called P 3, from the Security
Council’s Permanents’ bench and other states like Italy, Australia, and

25
See D. H. Joyner, Introductory Note to UN Security Council Res.1874 (2009), 48
ILM 1174 (2009).
26
 See B. Kempen/Zan He, The Practice of the International Court of Justice on
Provisional Measures: The Recent Development, 69 ZaöRV 919, at 927 (2009).
27
Joined Cases C-402/05 P and C-415/05, [2008] ECR I–6351.
28
For a thorough discussion see Hilpold (note 21), passim; A. Puttler looks at the
‘Joined Cases’ more from the European Union’s point of view: Grundrechtssicherung
durch die Gemeinschaftsgerichte unter Berücksichtigung völkerrechtlicher Verpflich­
tungen der Mitgliedstaaten, in: Th. v. Danwitz/J. Rossetto (ed.), Aktuelle Herausforder­
ungen der europäischen Integration, 105, at 110 et seq. (2009).
1452 tono eitel

New Zealand. But China and the Soviet Union, neither administering
any trusteeship territory, had to be taken care of. Similarly, an admin-
istering P 5 member would not want to leave the Trusteeship Council
once its trust territories “attained a full measure of self-government”
(Art. 73) and would for this reason no longer need to be administered.
Therefore, Art. 86 (1) (b) gives automatic membership also to UN
Members “mentioned by name in Article 23 as are not administering
trust territories”. Those mentioned in Art. 23 by a correct or incorrect
name are, of course, only the 5 permanent members of the Security
Council. They apparently preferred this complicated system of refer-
ence to secure their permanence in the Trusteeship Council as well.
Thus the UN Oligarchs were and are sitting on the Permanents’ bench
in both Councils. For political reasons, the one or the other permanent
member has over periods left its seat vacant. It will be interesting to see
what will happen to the Trusteeship Council when the General
Assembly’s work on the ‘2005 World Summit Outcome Document’29
progresses. Its paragraph 176 says, “Considering that the Trus­teeship
Council no longer meets and has no remaining functions, we should
delete Chapter XIII (The Trusteeship Council) of the Charter and ref-
erences to the Council in Chapter XII (International Trusteeship
System). It may be some time before the Permanent Five will allow an
institution to disappear which was once rather coveted and could at
any time be put to other use. Years ago the administration of the inter-
national commons, like outer space or the mineral resources of the
deep seabed, was considered a possible task. More recently the protec-
tion of the environment has been discussed as a new competence.
Whatever the outcome, Chapter XVIII (Amendments), to which we
shall come presently, would give the P 5 the means to steer that process
too, or at least to keep the Trusteeship Council’s remnants in existence,
if they wanted to.
2. Coming to Chapter XVII, its two Articles contain ‘Transitional
Security Arrangements’. Art. 107 is one of the Charter’s ‘Enemy State
Clauses’ which, in spite of their obsolescence, come up from time to
time, but have no immediate bearing on our topic. Art. 106, however,
has: it deals with the period which was needed to call into being the
security organisms of the UN after the Charter’s coming into force. It is
one of the rare Articles, if not the only one, that does not authorize the

29
UN Doc. A/RES/60/1.
 the un oligarchs and their privileges1453

P 5 but obliges them (under the name of “the parties to the Four-Nation
Declaration, signed at Moscow, 30 October 1943, and France”) to do
something. Yet, the obligation is a soft one: They “shall … consult …
with a view to such joint action on behalf of the Organization as may
be necessary for the purpose of maintaining international peace and
security”. Pursuant to Art. 106, this consultation has to be undertaken
in accordance with paragraph 5 of the above-mentioned Declaration.
The Declaration, adopted in the middle of World War II, provided in
paragraph. 5 for such consultations “pending the re-establishment of
law and order and the inauguration of a system of general security”.30
This system of general security, i.e. the United Nations, came into exist-
ence about two years later. But even then, the UN as ‘system of general
security’ was not yet complete, because the Security Council was still
waiting for the “armed forces”, provided for in Art. 43 and needed for
the maintenance of international peace and security. That explains the
transitional nature of this Article in the UN Charter together with its
strange drafting with outside references.
According to Art. 43, the armed forces had to be made available to
the new Security Council by member states on the basis of special
agreements. That is why Art. 106 lays down the consultation obligation
of the P 5 “pending the coming into force of such special agreements
referred to in Article 43 as in the opinion of the Security Council ena-
ble it to begin the exercise of its responsibilities under Article 42 …”.
However, hitherto no such ‘special agreement’ has been concluded,
even though Art. 43 (3) prescribes that “the agreement or agreements
shall be negotiated as soon as possible on the initiative of the Security
Council”. The Military Staff Committee, provided for in Arts. 45 to 47
and composed of staff officers from just the P 5, was supposed to assist
the Security Council in the implementation of these negotiations (Art.
45). But the Military Staff Committee has not helped much: the P 5
have not been able to agree on organizing armed forces under the
Security Council’s command, and the Military Staff Committee, as
far as I can see, does not do much more than hold luncheons at reg­
ular intervals.31 Had there been ‘special agreements’, the Permanent

30
For the full text of paragraph 5 of the Moscow Declaration see R. Geiger, MN 4 to
Art. 106 in: B. Simma (ed.) (note 7).
31
The above (note 29) mentioned ‘2005 World Summit Outcome Document’ in its
paragraph 178 therefore recommends an overhaul of the Committee; see T. Eitel,
Bedeutung und Tragweite der vorgeschlagenen Charta-Änderungen, in: J. Varwick/
A. Zimmermann (eds.), Die Reform der Vereinten Nationen, 315, at 325 et seq. (2006).
1454 tono eitel

Members would probably have come under pressure to join, or even to

precede, other troop contributors in concluding such agreements.
Although some of them have been rather active, from Korea to Iraq, in
using the General Assembly’s or Security Council’s authorizations by
engaging their national troops in expeditions and interventions, the P
5 are rather reluctant to have their own soldiers under the blue helmet
proper: as of 30 September 2009, they contributed about 5 % of all blue
helmets.32
Now, how about the ‘obligation’ of the P 5 to consult “pending the
coming into force of such special agreements”, as laid down by
Art. 106? The Council itself once tried to activate this obligation in the
context of the partition of Palestine, but to no avail.33 If one is formalis-
tic, the obligation could still be considered valid, since “the coming
into force of such special agreements” is still “pending”.34 Moreover,
Art. 106 gives considerable weight to these consultations and–during
the transitional period proper–also offers some legal basis for action,
since the consultations, as we have seen, were to be held “with a view to
such joint action on behalf of the Organization as may be necessary for
the purpose of maintaining international peace and security”. Thus,
proceeding from the bare text of Art.106, one could imagine a situation
where the P 5 would have an interest in bypassing the Security Council
and, following their consultations, would like to undertake “joint
action on behalf of the Organization”. If, for example, a case arose
where the P 5 were in agreement to undertake such ‘joint action’ but
were frustrated by the opposition of more than six of the non-perma-
nent Council members, so that they would not get the required (Art. 27
(3)) majority of nine, they could be tempted to try to re-activate
Art. 106. After all, as just mentioned, even the Council itself had once
tried to induce the P 5–some 60 years ago, it is true–to undertake ‘joint
action’ in the process of the partition of Palestine.
All the same, Art. 106 has to be considered obsolete, since the tran-
sitional period is certainly over. The Council has over the more than 60
years of its existence found its own means of dealing with the questions

32
 China 2147, France 2021, Russia 366, UK 268, US 84 blue helmets, according to
UN Dep. of Peace Keeping Operations, cited in: D. M. Tull, Die Peacekeeping-Krise der
Vereinten Nationen, SWP Studie S 1, at 7 (Jan. 2010).
33
 It had to settle for (Security Council) Resolution 42 (1948); see A. Husain, The
United States and the Failure of UN Collective Security, 101 AJIL 581, at 590 et seq.
(2007).
34
 See e.g. R. Geiger, MN12 (note 30) with further reference.
 the un oligarchs and their privileges1455

assigned to the ‘consultations’ of the P 5 (e.g. “Blue Helmets” and

“Coalitions of the Willing”), and the P 5 do not need any prompting to
consult each other–they do it all the time. Most importantly, however,
it is the P 5 themselves who, for their own reasons, failed to comply
with the duty prescribed for them and the other Council members by
Art. 43 (3), i.e. to negotiate the special agreements “as soon as possible
on the initiative of the Security Council”. Given their dominance of the
Council, had they wished to implement Art. 43 (3) ‘special agreements’
would, in the very early years, have been negotiated; yet, the P 5 did not
comply and, without their consent there was, of course, no chance of
any such agreement. Now, to reward non-compliance by the prolonga-
tion of a very exceptional temporary right, never claimed, but linked to
a transitional time which had clearly passed, would go far beyond ‘the
ordinary meaning to be given to the terms of the treaty in their context
and in the light of its object and purpose’ (Art. 31 (1) of the Vienna
Convention on the Law of Treaties of 1969). In short, the obsolescence
of Art.106 seems to be evident.
3. I shall now briefly look at Chapter XIX, dealing with ‘Ratification
and Signature’. Art.110, the first of its two Articles, lays down the need
for ratification by each of the 5 Oligarchs (again two with their wrong
names) for the Charter’s entry into force; of the other signatory states–
there were 46 more of them–a simple majority was sufficient (Art. 110
(3)). Thus, each Oligarch could already have cast his veto against the
Charter’s entry into force, which he did not and for which there was
indeed little reason given his privileged position.
Art. 111 makes the texts of the Charter in the languages of the P 5
(equally) authentic; Spanish was added because more than one third of
the states participating in the Founding San Francisco Conference
were Latin American. The natural consequence of the prominence
given to the P 5 languages regarding the Charter was that these lan-
guages (plus Spanish, and later Arabic) also became the official
languages of the UN organs;35 that this is a considerable advantage can
be testified by anybody who has had to work in a foreign language.
4. Finally, coming to Chapter XVIII of the Charter, the P 5 carved out
for themselves a most important role in the procedures which lead to
amendments of the Charter. Art.108 prescribes a two-thirds majority

35
For details see M. Hilf, MNs 2–15 to Art. 111 in: B. Simma (ed) (note 7).
1456 tono eitel

of the members of the General Assembly for the adoption of the text of
any Charter amendment. Thereafter, in order to come into force, this
amendment has to be ratified by a two-thirds majority of the UN
Members and, as with the coming into force of the Charter itself in
accordance with Art. 110 which was just discussed, these two thirds
must include all the permanent members of the Security Council. As
long as, for example, the Russian Duma or the French Assemblée
Nationale withholds ratification of an amendment, which was adopted,
let us assume unanimously, the amendment cannot enter into force!
Thus, the UN Oligarchs have secured for each of their parliaments a
veto against any change in the Charter. The respective parliament does
not even have to reject the draft; it suffices that it does not deal with it.
Thus, of all their rights and privileges which the P5 managed to insert
into the Charter not an iota could be changed or taken out without the
explicit consent of the ratifying authority of each of them. The same is,
of course, true for any other amendment. As was already said above,36
the ICJ Statute (Art.69) follows the same procedure, and thereby assigns
the same indispensable role to the P 5 regarding amendments also to
that Statute.
Whereas Art. 108 envisages the amendment or amendments
prompted by a need for an individual correction of the Charter, the fol-
lowing Art.109 deals with the project of the general revision of the
Charter. For such a comprehensive operation a special review confer-
ence is required. We do not have to go into the details–it may suffice to
note that, should such a conference ever be convened and recommend
an ‘alteration’ of the Charter, this ‘alteration’ would take effect only if
and when ratified by two thirds of the UN Members, again “including
all the permanent members of the Security Council”. Art. 69 of the ICJ
Statute mentions only “Amendments” and does not speak of “Altera­
tions” of a Review Conference (Art.109); nevertheless, the P 5 would
certainly claim their veto privilege in this case, too.37
Whether an individual amendment or a comprehensive revision of
the Charter, a visa from each of the five Oligarchs’ parliaments is
required. The Charter has been locked by five different padlocks, and
each Oligarch’s parliament holds the key to one of them. This is why
there is practically no chance that the current efforts to reform the

 See above I. 4.
36

 See W. Karl, MNs 10–12 to Art. 69, in: A. Zimmermann/C. Tomuschat/K. Oellers-
37

Frahm (eds.) (note 16).

 the un oligarchs and their privileges1457

Charter, especially regarding the Security Council, will lead to any

reduction of the P 5’s Charter privileges: so far, the P 5 have not given
any indication that they could imagine giving up any position, even the
least significant one. They prefer to perpetuate their undiminished
hold on the United Nations.
5. There are very few member states of the UN and members of the
Secretariat who are happy with this state of affairs. Kofi Annan’s Deputy
Secretary-General, the Englishman Mark Malloch Brown, criticized
what he called the “class system” dividing the UN as well as other inter-
national organizations into “the P 5 and the rest”.38 The former Perma­
nent Representative of Singapore to the UN sees the Permanent 5 as
“dictators of the world”; according to him the US have ‘kidnapped’ the
Security Council and he compares its decisions to the decrees of the
British King George III: Those decrees claimed legality for a while
before they lost their legitimacy and led to the American revolution.
The Council’s decisions he sees as being of the same nature, because,
like the king, the P 5 are unelected and unaccountable.39 The major
stumbling-block is, of course, the veto in the Council and regarding
Charter amendments. As early as in 1950 the General Assembly
adopted Res. 377 (V), called ‘Uniting for Peace’. This resolution claimed
for the General Assembly the competence to recommend to the
Member States collective measures, if the Security Council “fails to
exercise its primary responsibility … in any case where there appears to
be a threat to the peace, breach of the peace, or act of aggression”, which
is to say, if in serious circumstances a decision is blocked by a veto. In
the Korea crisis the ‘Uniting for Peace’ Resolution was able to outplay
the Soviet position and give a legal basis for the mustering of support
behind the South Korean cause. However, this auxiliary competence
cannot replace the Council’s decision because it is only recommenda-
tory, and States are free to accept or to reject it. In later years it served
mainly to voice the General Assembly’s protest against US vetoes sav-
ing Israel from censure by the Council.
Here is not the place to discuss the efforts to reform the Security
Council and the Charter. It may suffice to recall that since 1994 an
Open Ended Working Group of the General Assembly has been

38
 Interview with the German bi-monthly ‘Vereinte Nationen’, vol. 55, 155, at 156
(2007).
39
K. Mahbubani, Der Westen als Nadelöhr, in: 62 Internationale Politik, No.7/8
(July/August 2007) 54–64, at 57; see also supra note 5.
1458 tono eitel

discussing this reform without really getting to grips with it.

(Fortunately, the item has now been moved to the General Assembly’s
agenda.) In a letter to all Permanent Missions and Observers of 20
April 2007,40 the President of the General Assembly quotes the
Facilitators’ report41 stating “that maintaining the status quo is not
acceptable”. For those interested in UN reform, this report is fascinat-
ing but sad reading. Let me quote from its Chapter “The Question of
the Veto”:
“Despite nuances, permanent members alluded to the limits of what
could be agreed vis-à-vis the veto. The latter’s abolition or modification
would not be ratifiable through Charter amendment. This includes
legally-binding regulation of the veto or General Assembly guidelines on
how to exercise it. General Assembly involvement in matters falling
within what permanent members consider to be exclusive competence of
the Security Council is not amenable, nor is explanation of the use of veto
before the General Assembly …”.42

III. Outside the Charter

Having gone through the Charter with an admittedly critical eye, there
is still a glimpse to be had at the advantages the UN Oligarchs enjoy in
addition to their Charter privileges. In taking that glimpse, one has to
be aware though that the P 5 are important nations which carry great,
if varying, weight also outside the UN. Therefore, it would be wrong to
ascribe every special consideration given to a P 5 member outside the
Charter to its role within.
That, for example, at the International Tribunal for the Law of the
Sea there is no US judge has been widely regretted. At the Tribunal’s
constitution, it was discussed whether to include an American judge
on the ticket of a state which had ratified the UN Convention on the
Law of the Sea. In the end it was realized that as long as the US had not
itself acceded to the Convention, a US judge would be out of place.
However, there is little doubt that an American judge will be elected at
the first possible opportunity after a US accession. But this is certainly
owing more to the importance of the United States as a coastal and
seafaring nation than to its role within the UN. A test whether a privi-
lege is granted to a P 5 member as such or for other qualities could be

40
UN Doc. A/61/47, Annex I.
41
UN Doc. A/61/47.
42
 Id., at 13.
 the un oligarchs and their privileges1459

whether a state which is a heavyweight in the respective field but not a

member of the P 5, e.g. Japan regarding her economy, enjoys the same
privilege. A clear case, however, of the P 5’s influence flowing from
their UN position is the result they achieved at the Kampala ICC
Statute Review Conference regarding the amendments on the crime of
aggression (as was discussed above).43 Another example of a derived
privilege could be found at the International Court of Justice. There we
see judges from all the Permanent Five on the bench. It seems to be an
accepted rule that the P 5 are entitled to this presence. This is surpris-
ing, as Art. 10 (2) of the Court’s Statute reflects the reluctance of its
drafters to give the P 5 any prominent role in the election of ICJ judges.
The Article states expressly that, when electing judges, “any vote of the
Security Council … shall be taken without any distinction between
permanent and non-permanent members of the Security Council”.44
Nevertheless, it seems that the P 5 consider their presence on the bench
a well established right.45 Thus, before a round of elections, some of
them decline, as a matter of principle and unnecessary and even inap-
propriate, any agreement of mutual support with other states regarding
their candidates. And, apparently, they do not need such agreements.
The P 5 hold such an enviable position in many other bodies with
limited membership. A further example is the International Financial
Institutions; only in April 2009 the G-20 agreed that “the heads and
senior leadership of the international financial institutions should be
appointed through an open, transparent, and merit-based selection
process”, possibly ringing in the end of longstanding informal agree-
ments on the distribution of higher positions among the P 5.46 During
the discussion of Security Council reform, these secondary member-
ships were called ‘Cataract’ memberships and included from the
ACABQ (an influential committee for UN administration and budget)
to the UN University Council. The basis of the P 5’s election to these
bodies is respect and comity. As elsewhere in life, comity likes to cater
to the powerful.

43
 See above I. 4.
44
For history and details of the paragraph see B. Fassbender, MN 4 to Art. 10, in:
A. Zimmermann/C.Tomuschat /K.Oellers-Frahm (eds.) (note 16).
45
26 ASIL Newsletter, Issue 2 (April/June 2010), at 7, speaks of a “tradition”.
46
For a deeper discussion of constitutive representation in international organisa-
tions see J. K. Cogan, Representation and Power in International Organization, 103
AJIL 209, at 244 (2009), with further references. Cogan, at 247 et seq., has 41 lists of
names and nationalities of heads and leading figures in international organizations.
1460 tono eitel

C. Summary and Outlook

If one tries to summarize our findings regarding the station of the five
permanent members of the Security Council, we have seen that they
enjoy decisive rights, first, in and through the Security Council, second,
independently of their Council membership, but still through the UN
Charter and third, outside the Charter. There, derived from their lofty
station, they enjoy, on the basis of comity, considerable membership
rights in many important bodies. Just the latter ones are at the disposal
of the respective electorate, the former are inalienable and liable only to
renunciation by the P 5. We have seen that so far the P 5 have not been
prepared to forgo any of their privileges.
As shown above, the UN membership is painfully aware of the UN’s
feudalization. In the Council, the Permanents’ bench reflects colonial
times: most of the Council’s actions, whether military intervention,
blue helmets, or sanctions, happen in or are aimed at former depend-
ent states or colonies; but none of these ‘southern states’ enjoys perma-
nent status in the Council, i.e. has an influence comparable to the
influence of its former colonial master. On the Permanents’ bench, it is
not the absence of Japan or Germany which makes the Council unrep-
resentative and illegitimate, but the absence of a southern representa-
tion. (This does not rule out an effort by these two, or other, member
States also to be elected, in due course, to a permanent seat.) And the
complete dominance of any Charter amendment by the five Oligarchs
has sclerotized the organization. If this sclerosis cannot be cured, the
UN will end up as a fossil. Already the institution of the 1945 perma-
nent members itself has over the decades become a fossil. The outdated
structure has led to severe losses in respect and credibility: these quali-
ties are in the process of fading away. In spite of the lack of a mandate
from the Security Council, in recent years military interventions have
taken place e.g. in Serbia and Iraq. Iran may be next. On the other hand,
the cases have multiplied where decisions of the Council have not been
heeded, for example in the Near East as well as in Sudan or Rwanda or
Iran.
In short, the entire system of collective security, so artfully set up
more than two generations ago, is still at the mercy of the five victori-
ous powers of those days. If they continue to rejoice in their absolutism
and to oppose adjustment to modern facts and needs, the Organization
will more and more fall victim to the unruliness and arbitrary conduct
of its members. Sooner or later, the Oligarchs could then administer
 the un oligarchs and their privileges1461

the last rites. Or, the Oligarchs will bow to the experience that oligar-
chies in their absolutist form have never lasted indefinitely, that reform
could pre-empt revolution or decline and dissolution, and that there-
fore it would be wise to loosen the iron grip which is choking the
Charter. However, to win this kind of insight is not easy, and then to
make it operative may take time. Yet, hope dies last!
 Headquarters Agreements and the Law
of International Organizations

Thomas A. Mensah

A. Introduction

It is normal practice for an international organization to conclude an

agreement with the government of the State in which it is based with a
view to defining the legal situation of the organization and its installa-
tions and personnel within the territory of that State. Such an agree-
ment is referred to as the “headquarters agreement” between the
organization and the State concerned (the Host State). The term “head-
quarters agreement” is also used to refer to an agreement of a similar
nature concluded between an organization and a State in which it
maintains a special office or in which the office of a subsidiary organ is
located.1 It is also usual for an organization to conclude a special agree-
ment with a State other than a headquarters State when a special meet-
ing or conference is to be held in that State. Such an agreement will
usually have provisions similar to those in Headquarters Agreement,
although it is not considered to be a Headquarters Agreement in the
strict sense of the term.2
The need for a Headquarters Agreement arises from the fact that
there are specific aspects of the relations between an organization and
its host State that may not easily be resolved by reference to general
principles of international law or even the provisions of general con-
ventions on privileges and immunities. Also, it may not always be pos-
sible to reach agreement on the existence or scope of principles that
should govern a particular dispute between the organization and the
host State. As noted by one commentator, “[t]here exists a special bond

1
The United Nations has its European headquarters in Geneva and it has concluded
a Headquarters Agreement with the Government of Switzerland.
2
It has been suggested that a more suitable term would be “host agreement”.
It is claimed that this would “avoid misunderstanding … as to the question whether
the agreement pertains to the actual headquarters of the organization or not”. See
A. S. Muller, International Organizations and their Host States: Aspects of their Legal
Relationship, at 19 (2nd ed. 1995).
1464 thomas a. mensah

between the organization and its host state, and this bond cannot be
well regulated in a convention of general scope.”3
The Headquarters Agreement defines the legal status of the organi-
zation in the territory of the host State and it specifies the rights and
responsibilities of the organization and the host state in relation to
each other.4 Specifically, the headquarters agreement describes in detail
the special status to be accorded to the organization, its premises and
installations and its personnel, as well as persons representing other
member States of the Organization or other States and institutions
and bodies which participate in the work of the organization. The
headquarters agreement also sets out, inter alia, the rights and facilities
that the host State undertakes to extend to the organization and related
personnel in order to facilitate the efficient discharge of the functions
of the organizations. These rights and facilities include the privileges
and immunities to be accorded to the organization, the staff of the
organization and representatives of the member States and other
organizations participating in the work of the organization.5
In almost all cases, the headquarters agreement supplements general
provisions on the status of the organization that are contained in the
constitutive instruments (the constitutions) of the organization con-
cerned. In some cases, the general provisions in the constitutive instru-
ment are further amplified in a general convention or agreement on the
privileges and immunities of the organization that is intended to apply

3
J. Klabbers, Introduction to International Institutional Law, at 139 (2nd ed. 2009).
The same writer also notes: “In stark contrast to the diplomatic relations between States
which are by and large governed by a single almost universally accepted treaty, no one
document governs the diplomatic relations involving international organizations and
their staff, and those representing States to those organizations.”, id., at 140.
4
A headquarters agreement may also include provisions on the conditions under
which the headquarters premises (and related properties and installations) are made
available to the organization. However, these provisions deal essentially with the rela-
tionship between the host State and the organization in their capacities as “landlord
and tenant” in that they designate the actual seat of the organization and regulate mat-
ters such as the user rights of the building and the rent to be paid by the organization.
In some cases the terms of occupancy are either agreed in a separate document or are
included in the headquarters agreement as an annex thereto. See also Muller (note 2),
at 18–20.
5
The purpose of a headquarters agreement is to define the status, privileges and
immunities of the organization, including the privileges of persons operating on behalf
of or in connection with the organization. “Preambular paragraphs show that the sub-
ject matter of a host agreement can usually be divided into two main elements; Firstly
provisions on the legal status of the organization and secondly provisions dealing with
the privileges and immunities of the organization”, see Muller (note 2), at 19.
 the law of international organizations1465

to all member States who accept to be bound by the agreement.6 Where

this is the case the headquarters agreement will generally refer to both
the constitution of the organization as well as the general agreement.
Thus, the provisions on the status, immunities and privileges of the
United Nations were amplified in the General Convention on the
Privileges and Immunities of the United Nations adopted in 1946; and
the Headquarters Agreement between the United Nations and the
Government of the United States was expressly stated to supplement
provisions of both the Charter of the United Nations and the General
Convention on the Privileges and Immunities of the United Nations.7
The 1946 General Convention sets out the status, rights and privileges
of the United Nations in the territories of all member States which sig-
nify their consent to be bound by the Convention. The Headquarters
Agreement, on the other hand, was intended to deal with issues arising
from the fact that the headquarters of the United Nations are situated
in the territory of the United States and the bulk of activities will take
place there and the majority of its personnel will also be located there.8
The same approach has been followed by the specialized agencies
of the United Nations. Each of the Headquarters Agreements of the
specialized Agencies is a supplement to relevant provisions of the con-
stitution of the agency concerned and the provisions of the Convention
on the Privileges and Immunities of the Specialized Agencies.9 The
Specialized Agencies Convention specifies the legal situation of the
specialized agencies within the territories of member States which
have ratified, accepted, approved or acceded to the Convention. In the

6
Examples are the 1946 Convention on the Privileges and Immunities of the United
Nations (1 UNTS 15); the 1947 Convention on the Privileges and Immunities of the
Specialized Agencies (33 UNTS 261); and the Agreement on the Privileges and
Immunities of the Council of Europe (249 UNTS 207).
7
Article 1, section 1 (c), Article III, sections 7 (a) and 7 (b). It is worth noting that
the United States was not a party to the General Convention at the time when the
Headquarters Agreement was concluded.
8
“There exists a special bond between the organization and the host State, and this
cannot be well regulated in a convention of general scope. Consequently, in many cases
there is a separate Headquarters Agreement concluded between the organization and
its host State or alternatively (and sometimes simultaneously) may be regulated by
domestic legislation.”, Klabbers (note 3).
9
Article 31 of the Headquarters Agreement between UNESCO and the Government
of France states: “This Agreement is made in accordance with the provisions of
Section 39 of the Convention on the Privileges and Immunities of the Specialized
Agencies, which provides for special agreements between a state and a specialized
agency for the carrying out of the provisions of the above-mentioned Convention,
taking into account the particular needs of an agency at its headquarters.”
1466 thomas a. mensah

case of some institutions associated with the United Nations but not
covered by the Specialized Agencies Convention, the headquarters
agreement supplements the relevant constitutional instruments. This is
the case with the Headquarters Agreement between the International
Court of Justice and the Government of the Netherlands which draws
on the relevant provisions of the Charter of the United Nations relating
to the establishment of the Court.10 In the same way the Headquarters
Agreement between the International Criminal Court and the
Government of the Netherlands is based in large part on the Statute of
the International Criminal Court and the General Agreement on the
Privileges and Immunities of the ICC.11 In the case of the International
Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, its Headquarters Agreement with the
Government of the Federal Republic of Germany12 is also based on
the Statute of the Tribunal (Annex VI to the Convention on the Law
of the Sea) and on the General Agreement on the Privileges and
Immunities of the Tribunal adopted by the Meeting of States Parties to
the Convention and presented for ratification, acceptance and approval
by the States Parties to the Convention.13
A different approach was adopted in the European Community
(now the European Union). Here, the constitutive instrument (The
Treaty Establishing the European Community) was supplemented
by the Protocol on Privileges and Immunities,14 which contains many
of the stipulations usually found in host agreements. Thus there are
provisions dealing with, among others, the inviolability of the premises
and archives of the organization, tax exemptions for the organization
and its personnel, the special status of official communications, the

10
The Agreement between the International Court of Justice and the Government
of the Netherlands concluded by the Exchange of Letters between the President of the
Court and the Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Netherlands, 26 June 1946, and the
related resolutions of the General Assembly of the United Nations draw on the relevant
provisions of the Charter and Statute of the Court.
11
The Headquarters Agreement between the ICC and the Kingdom of the
Netherlands, signed on 7 June 2007 and entered into force on 1 March 2008, and the
Agreement on the Privileges and Immunities of the ICC adopted at the third meeting
of the first session of the Assembly from 3 to 10 September, 2002.
12
Agreement between the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea and the
Federal Republic of Germany Regarding the Headquarters of the Tribunal, signed on
4 December 2004.
13
The Agreement on the Privileges and Immunities of the International Tribunal
for the Law of the Sea was adopted by the Meeting of States Parties on 23 May 1997.
14
The Protocol on Privileges and Immunities of the European Communities,
1 European Yearbook 429.
 the law of international organizations1467

privileges and immunities of representatives to the organization. The

Protocol applies to the staff of the European Union as well as mem-
ber States of the Union. In effect the relations with the host State are
wholly governed by the provisions in the EU Treaty as amplified by the
Protocol on Privileges and Immunities. In the context of the European
Union, this does not create any major legal or practical problems since
any differences that arise between host States and the Union (or other
member States) will ultimately be resolved by reference to the organi-
zation’s own court, the European Court of Justice.15
There is always a close link between the Headquarters Agreement
and the constitutive instruments of the organization. This is hardly sur-
prising since a principal objective behind the conclusion of the
Headquarters Agreement is to enable the organization fully and effi-
ciently to discharge its responsibilities and fulfil its objectives and pur-
poses within the territory of the host State.16 The Headquarters
Agreement is, therefore, intended to address the specific issues that
arise from the fact that the organization has its base in the territory of
a particular State.17 Although some of the issues may arise in the organ-
ization’s relationship with the other member States, the impact of any
disagreements is likely to be different as far as the Host State is con-
cerned. Hence there is a greater need for clear and agreed answers to
any such problems which may arise between the organization and the
Host State.18

15
On the other hand the Council of Europe has concluded special agreements with
a number of countries. The Council of Europe also has a General Agreement on
Privileges and Immunities (249 UNTS 207).
16
See, e. g., Article II of the Headquarters Agreement between the Organization of
the Black Sea Economic Cooperation (BSEC) and the Government of Turkey: “The
objective of this Agreement is to determine the legal status of the headquarters of the
BSEC in addition to the provisions of the Charter and the Additional Protocol, and to
allow the [Permanent Secretariat] to discharge its duties and functions efficiently.”
17
In most cases, the host State is a member of the Organization, but this is not
always the case. For example, Switzerland concluded a Headquarters Agreement
with the United Nations even though Switzerland was not formally a member State of
the UN.
18
A headquarters agreement also helps to clarify the law applicable to specific areas
where differences might otherwise arise between the organization and the host State.
As Klabbers observes, this can be useful not only as regards the relations between the
organization and the host State but it can also help to resolve controversies between
different departments or ministries of the host State. “Various relevant ministries in the
host State may hold widely different views on the desirability of certain provisions. Tax
authorities might be reluctant to grant broad tax exemptions; social security authori-
ties might wish not to see exceptions for international civil servants from domestic
1468 thomas a. mensah

But the headquarters agreement is linked not only to the constitutive

instrument of its organization. In most cases, the headquarters agree-
ment relies also on general rules and principles, some of which may be
contained in other documents. Where this is the case, the interpreta-
tion or application of the agreement will need to take such rules and
documents into account, and the Agreement will in effect be just one of
many sources of law applicable to the relationship between the organi-
zation and its host State. One commentator has pointed out that in
most cases the headquarters agreement is but the basic document
which implicitly or explicitly in turn refers to, or relies on, other sources
of law. The other sources of law include the “constituent instruments”
of the organization; multilateral conventions or agreements on privi-
leges and immunities; supplemental and additional agreements to the
host agreement; rules of customary international law and decisions of
international courts and tribunals; and national legislation and deci-
sions of national courts and tribunals. To these must be added general
principles of international law which “underlie every legal relation in
international law”. According to the writer, the legal framework within
which the headquarters agreement operates is a “multi-layered struc-
ture” which he describes as “the host arrangement”, representing “the
ensemble of instruments that regulate matters concerning the relation-
ship between the international organization and the host State”.19 The
essential purpose and special features of the headquarters agreement
were identified in the discussions leading to the conclusion of the
Headquarters Agreement between the International Criminal Court
(ICC) and the Government of the Netherlands. In giving its approval
for the negotiation and conclusion of the Headquarters Agreement, the
Meeting of States Parties to the Statute of the ICC directed that certain
principles should be taken into account.20 The principles included the
following:
(a) The headquarters agreement should be based on the relevant
provisions of the Statute (of the ICC), the Rules of Procedure and

social security schemes in the host States; the labour ministry might have its own views
on the need for work permits for spouses of international civil servants etc.”, Klabbers
(note 3), at 133.
19
Muller (note 2), at 27.
20
Principles adopted at the third meeting of the first session of the Assembly
of States Parties to the Statute of the ICC, 3–10 September 2002 (Document
ICC-ASP/1/3).
 the law of international organizations1469

Evidence and the Agreement on the Privileges and Immunities of

the Court and should be consistent with those instruments;
(b) The headquarters agreement should reflect the specific relationship
between the Court and the host country;
(c) The headquarters agreement should address in detail those issues
which are not covered or are not sufficiently dealt with in the Stat-
ute, the Rules of Procedure and Evidence and the Agreement on
the Privileges and Immunities of the Court, but are necessary for
the proper implementation of the provisions set forth in those
instruments;
(d) The headquarters agreement should be prepared in the light of
its primary purpose of enabling the Court to fully and efficiently
discharge its responsibilities and fulfil its purposes in the host
country;
(e) The headquarters agreement should support the independence of
the Court and provide for the long-term stability of the Court;
(f) The headquarters agreement should facilitate the smooth and effi-
cient functioning of the Court, including, in particular, its needs
with regard to all persons required by the Court to be present at its
seat and with regard to the transfer of evidence in and out of the
host country;
(g) The headquarters agreement should attempt, to the extent possible,
to resolve in an all-encompassing manner all issues required to
facilitate the smooth and efficient functioning of the Court; at the
same time it should provide sufficient flexibility to allow for the
conclusion of supplementary agreements on matters that were not
foreseen during the negotiations of the agreement or are needed
for the proper implementation thereof.

B. Principal Issues Dealt with in the Headquarters

Agreement

A headquarters agreement is normally intended to deal comprehen-

sively with the legal relations between the host State and the organiza-
tion. It, therefore, covers a large number of issues. Among others,
headquarters agreements contain provisions regarding:
(a) Recognition of the legal status of the organization in the territory
of the host State, with specific reference to its international juridical
personality and capacity to enter into legal relationships;
1470 thomas a. mensah

(b) Inviolability of the premises, archives and other material of the

organization from interference by the authorities of the host
State;
(c) Immunity of the organization from the jurisdiction of the courts of
the host State;
(d) The obligation of the host State to ensure the peaceful operation of
the organization within its premises and in the headquarters dis-
trict, as necessary;
(e) Freedom of communication essential for the operation of the orga-
nization, including the operation of communication systems and
postal services;
(f) The obligation of the host State to provide appropriate police
and other protection for the premises of the organization and its
vicinity;
(g) Arrangements to ensure public facilities and utilities for the prem-
ises of the organization, and maintenance of structures and facili-
ties to meet applicable rules and safety requirements;
(h) Protection of the funds and assets of the organization from the
national laws and requirements of the host State;
(i) Privileges, immunities and exemptions to be accorded to the orga-
nization and its staff; to representatives of member States; and to
other persons residing in or visiting the territory of the host State
on the business of the organization;
(j) The procedure for resolving disputes that may arise in the applica-
tion of the Agreement.
In many cases, the provisions of the headquarters agreement reflect
principles that have been accepted as part of customary or conven-
tional international law and which therefore do not pose significant
problems for either the organization or the authorities of the host State.
But there are cases where provisions which are accepted in analogous
situations may not be acceptable to a particular host State. An example
is the provision regarding the obligation of the host State to protect the
premises of missions of member States in the host State against intru-
sion or damage and to prevent disturbance of the peace of the mission
or impairment of its dignity. A provision to this effect has been widely
accepted in Article 22 (2) of the 1961 Vienna Convention on Diplomatic
Relations. Nevertheless, a provision with virtually identical language in
the 1977 Convention on the Representation of States in their Relations
with International Organizations has not been welcomed by many
 the law of international organizations1471

States, and it has so far not been accepted for inclusion in headquarters
agreements.21
Some of the provisions in a headquarters agreement may raise legal
problems of interpretation or application in concrete situations. In
such cases, the organization and the host State may have to refer to
general principles of international law or relevant practice established
in the application of similar arrangements. The major provisions in
respect of which controversy arises include those relating to the immu-
nity of the organization (or persons referred to in the agreement) from
the jurisdiction of the courts of the host State, and the entitlement of
the organization (or personnel referred to in the agreement) to rights,
privileges and facilities referred to in the agreement.
Where disputes arise, there may be disagreement as to which party
is competent to make the final determination on the existence or oth-
erwise of circumstances that call for the application of the provisions in
question. Differences may also arise about the treatment to be accorded
to different categories of persons who are involved in the operation of
the organization. Another major subject of possible disagreement is
the role that the organization (as opposed to the States or individuals
who may be entitled to privileges and immunities) must play in ensur-
ing the due implementation of the agreement. Specifically, there may
be disagreement on the right and capacity of the organization to take
the necessary measures to protect the interests of the organization, its
personnel and other persons covered by the agreement.

C. The Legal Status of the Organization

A headquarters agreement proceeds on the express understanding that

the organization has an independent juridical status and is endowed
with international juridical personality and, consequently, that it has
the capacity to conclude an international agreement with the host State

21
Article 23 (2) (a) in the 1977 Convention which has not yet entered into force.
There is no provision on this point in the Headquarters Agreement of the United
Nations. However, the Secretary-General has taken the view that the host State has
similar obligations with regard to missions accredited to the UN. On that basis, the
Secretary-General has on occasions considered it necessary and appropriate to remind
the host State “of the problems caused by hostile demonstrations outside mission
premises”, 2 Yearbook of the International Law Commission, at 187 (1967).
1472 thomas a. mensah

as a party in its own right. Accordingly, the headquarters agreement is

accepted as an international agreement in the true sense of the term. In
the Reparations for Injuries case, the International Court of Justice
declared that the Headquarters Agreement between the United Nations
and the Government of the United States is “a treaty in force and bind-
ing on the parties thereto”.22
The fact that the international organization is a juridical personality
is generally stated in the constitutive instrument of the organization
and also in any related general agreement or protocol on the privileges
and immunities of the organization. For example, the 1947 Convention
on the Privileges and Immunities of the Specialized Agencies expressly
states that the specialized agencies falling within the scope of the
Convention “shall possess juridical personality” and, accordingly, “they
shall have the capacity (a) to contract, (b) to acquire and dispose of
immovable and movable property, (c) to institute legal proceedings”.23
This general provision is made more specific in the respective head-
quarters agreements. For instance, the Headquarters Agreement
between UNESCO and the Government of France has a provision
which states that “the Government of the French Republic recognizes
the legal personality of the Organization [UNESCO] and its capacity to
contract, to acquire and dispose of movable and immovable property
and to be a party to judicial proceedings”.24 In similar vein the
Headquarters Agreement between the ICC and the Kingdom of the
Netherlands expressly states that the Court “shall have international
legal personality and shall also have such legal capacity as may be nec-
essary for the exercise of its functions and the fulfillment of its pur-
poses. It shall, in particular, have the capacity to contract, to acquire
and to dispose of immovable and movable property and to participate
in legal proceedings”.25 These stipulations are evidence of a general
agreement that the headquarters agreement is a treaty (international
agreement) that is binding on its parties, i.e. the host State on the one
part and the organization on the other part. Thus, the headquarters
agreement applies between the host State and the organization in
its own right, in the main to the exclusion of the individual States

22
Advisory Opinion on Reparations for Injuries Suffered in the Service of the United
Nations, ICJ Reports 1949, 174.
23
Article II, section 3 (Juridical Personality).
24
Article 1.
25
Article 3 (Legal Status and Juridical Personality of the Court).
 the law of international organizations1473

­ embers of the organization.26 This means that, although individual

m
member States of the organization are entitled to certain rights and
privileges under the agreement, they are not parties to the agreement
and they may have very limited standing to enforce the terms of the
agreement against the host State.

D. Immunity from Legal Process within the

Jurisdiction of the Host State

While the headquarters agreement recognizes the capacity of the

organization to sue and be sued, the agreement invariably confers on
the organization immunity from the jurisdiction of the courts of
the host State. This immunity is also extended to the personnel of the
organization. Thus, headquarters agreements invariably stipulate that
the organizations shall enjoy complete immunity from suit before
the courts of the host States. However, this immunity is subject to one
important condition: it applies only in so far as the persons concerned
are discharging functions on behalf of or in relation to the organiza-
tion.27 As previously noted, the immunity is granted on the ground that

26
The position of the organization is different under the constitutive instrument
of the organization or even the general Convention on privileges and immunities of
the organization. For although the constitution of an organization (as also the gen-
eral Convention) confers certain rights and privileges on the organization, the
organization is not a party to the Constitution or the Agreement and hence may not
have a clear enough standing to enforce these rights and privileges. In contrast,
the Headquarters Agreement is only binding between the organization and the host
State. The member States are not parties to the agreement, although they have an
interest in its implementation. For a contrary view see K. J. Kunz, Privileges and
Immunities of International Organizations, 41 AJIL 848 (1947). According to Kunz a
headquarters agreement is of “a doubtful legal character” and is not “an international
treaty”.
27
In the case of certain categories of officials (“high officers”) of the organization,
privileges are generally granted without the “functional” qualification. However, the
obligation to waive immunity applies where waiver will not affect the ability of the
organization to perform its functions. In this connection one writer considers that
assimilating the privileges and immunities of organizations to those accorded to
diplomatic personnel under the 1961 Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations
“calls for strained interpretation of that Convention’s text and produces results that
are unfair to [international organizations and their personnel]”, M. C. W. Pinto,
Some Thoughts on the Treatment of Inter-Governmental Organizations and their
Personnel, in: R. Wolfrum/T. Ndiaye (eds.), Law of the Sea, Environmental Law
and Settlement of Disputes: Liber Amicorum Judge Thomas A Mensah, 97, in particu-
lar at 116 (2007).
1474 thomas a. mensah

it is needed to enable the organization to perform its functions and

pursue its objectives.28
There is, of course, an important difference between the immunities
enjoyed by an international organization and similar immunities that
are accorded to embassies accredited to the host State. In general
immunities are accorded to diplomatic representatives of sovereign
States on the long-standing principle of the sovereign equality of States,
and on the basis of reciprocity in the sense that representatives of the
receiving State will be accorded similar immunities in the territories of
other States.29 But this rationale does not apply in the case of immuni-
ties accorded to an international organization. For this reason, it has
been suggested that “international organizations warrant a treatment
different from that accorded to States when it comes to privileges and
immunities. Unlike diplomatic agents, international officials are nei-
ther accredited to the government of a particular country nor are they
representatives of one [state]. They are servants of the international
organization in the true sense of the term and act in its name. Unlike
diplomatic agents, they exercise their functions not in the territory of a
single State but in several [states], including sometimes their own”.30
In particular, an international organization is not in a position to grant
similar privileges to the host State. The main reason immunities are
granted to an international organization is that they are necessary to
enable the organization to perform its functions; and the ultimate rea-
son a host State grants immunities to an organization is that it has an
interest, as a member State of the organization, in the efficient dis-
charge of its responsibilities.31

28
Article 27 of the Agreement between the United Nations and the United States
reads: “This Agreement shall be construed in the light of its primary purpose to
enable the United Nations at its headquarters in the United Sates, fully and effi-
ciently to discharge its responsibilities and fulfil its purposes.” Similar provisions
are to be found in other headquarters agreements, e.g. in Article XV, section 53, of
the Headquarters Agreement between UNIDO and the Republic of Austria (600
UNTS 93).
29
On the issue of reciprocity in general see S. Hoffmann, International Systems and
International Law, in: K. Knorr/S. Verba (eds.), The International System: Theoretical
Essays, at 205–237 (1961).
30
K. Ahluwalia, The Legal Status, Privileges and Immunities of Specialized Agencies
of the United Nations and Certain Other International Organizations, at 105 (1964).
31
“In the case of international privileges and immunities, the inducement for States
to recognize them is their interest in the efficient and independent functioning of the
organization without fear of interference.”, C. F. Amerasinghe, Principles of the
Institutional Law of International Organizations, at 317 (1999).
 the law of international organizations1475

For these reasons the immunity from suit that is enjoyed by the
international organization is generally considered to be different from
that accorded to sovereign States in the territories of other States.
Indeed, it has been argued that immunity of an international organiza-
tion from suit before the courts of the host State does not imply that the
laws of the host State are not applicable to the international organiza-
tion or to its property and personnel. Rather it is suggested that the
immunity merely prevents enforcement of the host State’s laws against
the organization in certain cases. According to this view, the organiza-
tion is in fact subject to the laws of the State, except to the extent that
immunity has been granted expressly or by implication.32 The idea
behind this position is that immunity is granted solely to prevent a
situation in which the ability of the organization to perform its func-
tions might be compromised by the necessity to defend itself before the
courts of the host State. On that basis, it is contended that where sub-
mission to the courts of the host State will not adversely affect the abil-
ity of the organization to discharge its functions, there will be no need
or occasion for the immunity and, consequently, that immunity should
be waived in order not to impede the due administration of justice.
This view seems to have been accepted in most of the headquarters
agreements concluded between organizations and their host States.33
For instance, the relevant provision in the Headquarters Agreement
between the United Nations and the Government of the United States
expressly states, “Except as otherwise provided in this agreement or in
the General Convention, the federal, state and local law of the United
States shall apply within the headquarters district.”34 The Agreement
further provides: “Except as otherwise provided in this agreement or in

32
The very concept of immunity would seem to imply that there is something to be
immune from. See Klabbers (note 3), at 136; see also F. Seyersted, The Common Law
of International Organizations (2008).
33
The position with regard to immunity from suit is different in the case of financial
institutions which in general enjoy rather limited immunity in respect of their activi-
ties. For example, Section 3 of Article VII of the Constitution of the IBRD (the World
Bank) expressly permits actions to be brought against the Bank in the courts of a mem-
ber State in which the Bank has an office or has designated an agent for the purpose of
accepting service or notice of process, or has issued or guaranteed securities. However,
action cannot be brought by a member State or a person acting for or deriving a claim
from a member. According to Amerasinghe the immunity for the Bank is “reversed”,
there is a presumption of absence of immunity, and it is recognized only in the circum-
stances mentioned. Amerasinghe (note 31), at 321.
34
Article III, section 7 (b).
1476 thomas a. mensah

the General Convention, the federal, state and local courts of the
United States shall have jurisdiction over acts done and transactions
taking place in the headquarters district as provided in applicable fed-
eral, state and local laws.”35 However, the Agreement contains an
important qualification regarding the application of US law in the
headquarters district. Paragraph (d) of the same Article states that
“federal, state and local courts of the United States, when dealing with
cases arising out of or relating to acts done or transactions taking place
in the headquarters district, shall take into account the regulations
enacted by the United Nations …”.36

E. The Right of the Organization to Regulate its Internal

Affairs without Interference from the Authorities of the
Host State

One of the principal purposes of the headquarters agreement is to rec-

ognize and delineate the right of the organization to regulate matters
within its domain, mainly within its premises and installations and in
relation to its personnel and its member States. Hence a common pro-
vision in the headquarters agreement stipulates that the premises of the
organization are “inviolable” and, specifically, that the authorities of
the host State do not have the right to enter the premises except at the
invitation of the Executive Head and subject to conditions agreed by
him or her. The standard provision on this point provides that
Headquarters “shall be inviolable”. This is generally amplified by a pro-
vision that expressly states that agents and officials of the host State
shall not enter the headquarters “to discharge any official duty save
with the consent or at the request of the [Executive Head of the organi-
zation] and in accordance with conditions approved by the Executive
Head.” This is further reinforced by a provision to the effect that “the
execution of legal process, including the seizure of private property

35
Article III, section 7 (c).
36
Article III, section 7 (d). The general principle in this provision was endorsed
by the International Court of Justice in the Advisory Opinion on the Difference Relating
to Immunity from Legal Process of a Special Rapporteur of the Commission on Human
Rights where the Court stated that the views of the Secretary-General on the exist-
ence or otherwise of immunity should be sought (by domestic courts) and that such
views “can only be set aside for the most compelling reasons”, ICJ Reports 1999, 62,
para. 61.
 the law of international organizations1477

may take place in the Headquarters only with the consent of and under
conditions approved by the Executive Head”.37
An important and common feature of the headquarters agreements
is the provision in which the host State recognizes the right of the
organization to regulate affairs within its premises and in relation to its
personnel. This right to regulate internal affairs includes the power to
adopt rules and regulations and establish institutions and procedures
necessary to enable the organization to pursue the purposes and objec-
tives set out in its constitution, i.e. “for the full execution of its func-
tions”.38 The right of the organization to regulate its affairs without
interference extends to all aspects of its relations with its personnel.
Specifically, headquarters agreements routinely provide that the right
to regulate the internal affairs of the organization applies to the exclu-
sion of any domestic rules and regulations that apply to other persons
and operators within the territory of the host State. The relevant provi-
sion in the Headquarters Agreement of United Nations Industrial
Development Organization (UNIDO) states that UNIDO “shall have
the power to make regulations, operative within the headquarters
seat, for the purpose of establishing therein conditions in all respects
necessary for the full execution of its functions. No law of the Republic
of Austria which is inconsistent with a regulation of the UNIDO
authorized by this section shall, to the extent of such inconsistency,
be applicable within the headquarters seat”. The provision goes on to
stipulate that “any dispute between the Government and the UNIDO
as to whether a regulation of the UNIDO is authorized by this section
or as to whether a law of the Republic of Austria is inconsistent with
any regulation of the UNIDO authorized by this section, shall be
promptly settled by the procedure set out in Section 46 [eventually by

37
Article III, section 9 (a). This provision has been successfully invoked before
courts of the United States, for example, in Kadic v. Karadzic and Doe II v. Karadzic,
104 ILR 135.
38
Headquarters Agreement of the United Nations (section 8), and IAEA
Headquarters Agreement (section 8). In the Effects of Awards case, the ICJ held that the
power to establish a tribunal to do justice as between the United Nations and the staff
members was essential to ensure the efficient working of the Secretariat. In the view
of the Court, the capacity to do this arises “by necessary intendment of the Charter”.
In the Exchange of Letters accompanying the Headquarters Agreement of ITLOS,
it was expressly clarified that the regulations to be issued by the Tribunal will be “those
necessary for the conduct of its operations and activities in the execution of its man-
date and to establish conditions necessary for the exercise of its functions and fulfil-
ment of its purposes”, Exchange of Letters of 14 December 2004, para. 1.
1478 thomas a. mensah

arbitration]. Pending such settlement, the regulation of the UNIDO

shall apply and the law of the Republic of Austria shall be inapplicable
in the headquarters seat to the extent that the UNIDO claims it to be
inconsistent with its regulation.”39
For the most part the staff members of the organization are treated
differently from other employees in the host State as far as the employ-
ment laws and requirements of the host State are concerned. In par-
ticular, the laws of the host State on the employment of persons,
including the rights and obligations as between employers and employ-
ees, will normally not apply to the staff members of the organization.
This exemption is considered to be a necessary consequence of the
right of the organization to adopt its own regulations and rules as well
as the immunity of the organization from the jurisdiction of the courts
of the host State in respect of activities necessary for the pursuit of its
purposes. In general the principle is that, except in very limited and
special situations, the employment laws of the host state do not apply to
the relations between the organization and its employees.
Two main reasons have been suggested for the exemption of the staff
of the organization from the employment laws of the host State. The
first is that applying the laws of the host State to the staff of the organi-
zation would interpose the laws and policies of one State on persons
whose allegiance and responsibilities should not be directed to any
particular State.40 The second is that subjecting the employment rights
of international civil servants to the laws of any one State might not
only impede the ability of the organization to perform its functions but
it could also lead to fragmented and differentiated levels of protection
for international civil servants whose special status requires uniform
protection. As was stated in the seminal case of Broadbent v OAS, “An
attempt by the courts of one nation to adjudicate the personnel claims
of international civil servants would entangle those courts in the inter-
nal administrations of those organizations. Denial of immunity opens
the door to divided decisions of the courts of different member States
passing judgment on the rules, regulations and decisions of the inter-
national bodies. Undercutting uniformity in the application of staff

39
Article III, section 16.
40
“[The] purpose of immunity from employee actions is rooted in the need to pro-
tect international organizations from unilateral control by a member nation over the
activities of the international organization within its territory”, Mendaro v. The World
Bank, D.C. Court of Appeals 717 F. 2 610, at 615 (D.C. Cir.1983).
 the law of international organizations1479

rules or regulations would undermine the ability of the organization to

function effectively.”41
But while it is generally accepted that the organization (in relation to
its staff) should not be obliged to submit to the legislative and other
requirements of the host State, it is also agreed that the staff of interna-
tional organizations should not be deprived of basic fundamental
rights due to them under national and international law. Indeed some
States have taken the position that exemption from the application of
national employment laws and requirements will be granted to an
organization and its personnel only on the clear and express under-
standing that appropriate arrangements have been made (or will be
made) to ensure that employees of the organization will not be denied
basic rights solely by virtue of their employment with an international
organization. This position has been especially asserted with respect to
the exemption of organizations (and their personnel) from the applica-
tion of social security legislation of the host States. In recent times,
many States have maintained appropriate social security benefits
should be made available to all persons within their jurisdiction,
including persons employed by international organizations. Although
these states are prepared to grant exemption to the staff of international
organizations from the requirements under their national law, they are
generally unwilling to accept that such persons should be completely
denied appropriate social security benefits. Hence some host States
have insisted that international personnel will be granted exemption
from national social security legislation only on condition that similar
facilities and benefits will be made available to them. An example of
such a conditional grant of exemption is in the Headquarters Agreement
between the International Criminal Court and the Government of the
Netherlands which reads: “The social security system of the Court
offers coverage comparable to the coverage under the legislation of the
host State. Accordingly, the Court and its officials to whom the afore-
mentioned scheme applies shall be exempt from social security provi-
sions of the host State. Consequently, such officials shall not be covered
against the risks described in the social security provisions of the host
State. This exemption applies to such officials, unless they take up gain-
ful activity in the host State.”42 There is a similar provision in the

41
Broadbent v. Organization of American States, US District Court for the District of
Columbia, Decision of 28 March 1978, 628 F.2 27, reported in 63 ILR 162.
42
Article 36 para. 1.
1480 thomas a. mensah

Headquarters Agreement of the International Tribunal for the Law of

the Sea (ITLOS). That Agreement exempts the Tribunal (and its staff)
from the laws of the host country on mandatory coverage by and con-
tributions to the social security schemes of the host country, but it is
stated that this is because (“due to the fact that”) the officials “are sub-
ject to regulations consistent with the United Nations Staff Regulations
and Rules, including Article VI thereof, which establishes a compre-
hensive social security system”.43
Another important consequence of the right of the organization to
make its own regulations is that staff members of the international
organization cannot seek redress before national courts for alleged
infringements of their employment rights. Once again this immunity is
given to the organization not in absolute terms. The general view is that
immunity from the jurisdiction of national courts is granted only to
the extent that it is necessary for the efficient operation of the organiza-
tion and the effective performance of its functions. On the whole there
appears to be general acceptance that this objective is more likely to be
achieved if questions relating to the rights of the staff of the organiza-
tion are dealt with through procedures that are applied uniformly to all
staff members than if recourse is had to national forums where the
rules may be different or may be implemented and interpreted differ-
ently. At the same time, however, it is contended that it would not be
acceptable for staff members of an international organization to be
denied rights that are enjoyed by all other employed persons within a
host State. For that reason it has been maintained that any such exemp-
tions should be conditional on the availability of suitable protection for
the rights of the employees concerned. Thus it has been contended that
an international organization is entitled to immunity in national courts
against claims from its staff only if there are appropriate avenues for
such staff members to seek legal redress for alleged violations of their
rights. Indeed it has been claimed that the provision of adequate ave-
nues for protection of the employment and other rights of the staff of

43
Article14. These provisions differ from the provisions previously accepted by host
governments in previous agreements. For example, the equivalent provision in the
Headquarters Agreement of the IAEA (concluded in 1957) reads: “The IAEA shall be
exempt from all compulsory contributions to, and officials of the IAEA shall not be
required by the Government to participate in any social security scheme of the Republic
of Austria.” (Article X, section 25). At that time the exemption was not subject to the
condition that the Agency should operate a system that was “comparable” to the
national system, or otherwise acceptable to the host State.
 the law of international organizations1481

the international organizations, is “complementary” to the immunity

enjoyed by the organization from the jurisdiction of the national
courts.44 As the ICJ stated in the Effects of Awards case, “it would
hardly be consistent with the expressed aim of the Charter to pro-
mote freedom and justice for individuals … that the UN should
afford no judicial or arbitral remedy for its own staff for the settlement
of any disputes which may arise between [the United Nations] and
them”.45 This view is given added force by the provision in the 1946
General Convention on the Privileges and Immunities of the United
Nations. While providing that the United Nations enjoys jurisdic-
tional immunity from national courts in respect of disputes with its
staff, the Convention specifically states that “the United Nations
shall make provision for appropriate modes of settlement of disputes
arising out of contracts or other disputes of a private law character to
which the United Nations is a party”.46 Similar provisions are in the
Specialized Agencies Convention and in the Agreements on the
Privileges and Immunities of the ICC and ITLOS47 The assumption
seems to be that where such arrangements are not made and, as a
result, the persons concerned do not have available suitable alterna-
tive means to protect their rights, it may plausibly be argued that there
is no basis for immunity from the courts of the host State. In such a
situation it would not be unreasonable to suggest that the persons
concerned would be entitled to seek redress from the domestic courts
of the host State.48 This view seems to have been endorsed, at least
in principle, by the European Court of Human Rights when it stated
that “… a material factor in determining whether granting [immu-
nity from] jurisdiction is permissible … is whether the applicants had

44
“It cannot seriously be contested that, because it would be inappropriate to impli-
cate any system of municipal law as such in the employment relations in an interna-
tional organization, there must be some system of law governing such relationship
because it is necessary to allocate rights and obligations and particularly to protect
the employee from the uncontrolled exercise of authority within the secretariat of the
organization for which he works.”, C. F. Amerasinghe, The Law of the International
Civil Service, Vol. 1, at 9 (2nd ed. 1994). On this generally see A. Reinisch, The
Immunity of International Organizations and the Jurisdiction of their Administrative
Tribunals, 7 Chinese Journal of International Law 2, 285 (2008).
45
Effects of Award case, ICJ Reports 1954, 47 (57).
46
Article VIII, section 29 (a).
47
Article 31 (Settlement of disputes with third parties) in the Agreement on the
Privileges and Immunities of the ICC; and Article 26 of the Agreement on the Privileges
and Immunities of the ITLOS.
48
See Reinisch (note 44).
1482 thomas a. mensah

available to them reasonable alternative means to protect effectively

their rights under the Convention”.49

F. The Privileges to be Accorded to

Various Categories of Persons

The Headquarters Agreement also sets out privileges to be accorded by

the host State to the organization and also to persons who are in the
territory of the host State in connection with the work of the organiza-
tion. The persons covered by these provisions range from the members
of the staff of the organization, to the members of the staff of the mis-
sions of member States, representatives of other associated organiza-
tions and experts who provide special services in connection with the
work of the organization. In the case of international judicial bodies,
special privileges and immunities are also extended to persons who are
required to be present in the territory of the host State in connection
with the work of those bodies. For example, special rights, privileges
and immunities are provided in the Headquarters Agreement of the
ICC for, inter alia, representatives of States participating in cases or the
Assembly of States Parties, interns and visiting professors, counsel and
persons assisting counsel, witnesses, victims, experts, and other per-
sons required to be present at the seat of the Court.50 Similarly, the
Headquarters Agreement of ITLOS has provisions on the immunities
and exemptions that are to be extended to experts appointed under
Article 289 of the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea (Article 20);
agents representing the parties, counsel and advocates designated to
appear before the Tribunal (Article 21); and witnesses, experts and
persons performing missions (Article 22.) The privileges and immuni-
ties in these provisions include exemptions from taxes and duties as
well as exemption from the application of certain laws and regulations
of the host State relating to the entry into, and stay in, the host State by
such persons.

49
ECHR, Waite and Kennedy v. Germany, Judgment of 18 February 1999, Appl.
No. 26083/94, para. 68. See also A. Reinisch/U .A. Weber, The Jurisdictional Immunity
of International Organizations, the Individual’s Access to Courts and Administrative
Tribunals as Alternative Means of Dispute Settlement, International Organizations
L.R., 59 (2004).
50
See Articles 21–29 of the ICC Headquarters Agreement
 the law of international organizations1483

Once again the main rationale for the grant of these privileges and
immunities is that they are necessary to ensure the effective and inde-
pendent exercise by such persons of their functions. For this reason,
privileges accorded to the different categories of persons are differenti-
ated with a view to ensuring that only those privileges that are neces-
sary are accorded. Thus, although there is general agreement that
entitlement to, and enjoyment of, immunities and privileges should not
depend on the nationality or residential status of the personnel of an
organization, it is also accepted that this applies only to those privileges
and immunities that are necessary for the performance of their offi-
cial functions and the effective functioning of the organization.51
Consequently, it is accepted that the principle of equal treatment does
not necessarily apply with respect to privileges and immunities that are
not considered to be essential for this purpose. Thus Headquarters
Agreements often contain provisions that expressly give different treat-
ment to persons of different nationalities and residential status. For
example, while immunity from judicial process in respect of official
acts is jealously guarded and claimed for all staff members irrespective
of their nationality, certain other immunities and privileges are
expressly and routinely denied to members of the staff who are nation-
als or permanent residents of the host State and where accorded, they
are often subject to specific and sometimes stringent conditions. On
the whole the position is that persons who are nationals or permanent
residents of the host State enjoy privileges and immunities only “to the
extent necessary for the independent performance of their functions”.52
Indeed this restriction based on nationality often extends to senior
officials (“high officials”) of organizations who would otherwise be
entitled to full diplomatic status by virtue of their position or the

51
“A feature of the law governing the privileges and immunities of organizations
and their personnel is that the nationality of the individual usually has no bearing on
whether the privilege or immunity accrues.”, Amerasinghe, (note 31), at 316. The
Secretary-General emphasized this principle when he stated: “In the definition of the
term ‘official’ of the United Nations, no distinction is made between staff members of
the United Nations as to nationality or residence. This precludes any distinction being
drawn (e.g. on grounds of nationality or residence) so as to exclude a given category of
staff from the benefit of privileges and immunities.”, UNJYB, at 183–184 (1975).
52
Thus, for example, Article XII, section 39 of the Headquarters Agreement of
UNIDO provides that officials of the UNIDO who are Austrian nationals or stateless
persons resident in Austria “shall enjoy only those privileges and immunities provided
for in the General Convention …”. The only additional privileges accorded to such
officials are exemption from taxation on benefits paid to them by the Pension Fund and
the right of access to the commissary established by agreement with the host State.
1484 thomas a. mensah

special functions that they perform. Examples of this restriction are to

be found in almost all headquarters agreements. A typical example is
the provision in the Headquarters Agreement between UNIDO and
the Government of Austria. Under that Agreement, staff members with
the grade of P-5 and above (and such other categories as may be desig-
nated by agreement) “shall be accorded the same privileges, immuni-
ties and facilities as the host State accords to diplomatic agents of
comparable rank of diplomatic missions established in the host State in
conformity with the Vienna Convention”.53 However, this applies only
to such persons if they “are not nationals or permanent residents of the
host State”. For nationals of Austria or stateless persons resident in
Austria the only privileges available to them under the Agreement are
exemption from taxation on benefits paid to them by the Pension Fund
and access to the commissary established in accordance with the
Agreement.54
A distinction is also made as between “regular” staff members of the
organization and other persons who perform functions for the organi-
zation but are not considered to have the full status of officials of the
organization. This is particularly true of persons who are recruited
locally in the host State. Such persons are variously described as per-
sons “recruited locally and assigned to hourly rates of pay” or “staff
members who are not governed by the provisions of the Staff Regulations
of the Organization”. But whatever the designation of such persons, the
general position is that they are not entitled to any privileges beyond
the mandatory immunity from legal process in respect of act done or
words spoken in the performance of official functions. Any other
rights, privileges or facilities that may be accorded to the general staff
will not be available to such persons, irrespective of their nationality or
residential status in the host State.55

53
Article XII, section 38 of the UNIDO Headquarters Agreement. On the possible
implications of assimilation of staff members to the status of diplomatic agents under
the 1961 Vienna Convention see Pinto (note 27).
54
Article XII, section 39.
55
“Personnel recruited locally by the Court and not otherwise covered by this
Agreement shall be accorded immunity from legal process in respect of words spoken
or written and all acts performed by them in their official capacity for the Court. Such
immunity shall continue to be accorded even after termination of their employment
with the Court. During their employment, they shall also be accorded such other facili-
ties as may be necessary for the independent performance of their functions for the
Court.”, Article 19 of the ICC Headquarters Agreement.
 the law of international organizations1485

The distinction based on nationality is sometimes extended to repre-

sentatives of States and of other international institutions. For instance,
privileges and immunities available to representatives of States may
differ depending on the diplomatic relations existing between the
States of their nationality and the host State. For instance, under the
Headquarters Agreement between the United Nations and the United
States, a different treatment is given to representatives of States
whose governments are not recognized by the United States. Although
the provisions relating to communications and transit (in Section 11)
are applicable “irrespective of the relations existing between the
Governments of persons [concerned] and the United States”,56 the same
is not true with respect to other privileges and immunities. The rele-
vant provision in the Agreement reads: “In the case of Members whose
governments are not recognized by the United States, such privileges
and immunities need be extended to such representatives, or persons
on the staffs of such representatives, only within the headquarters dis-
trict, at their residences and offices outside the district, in transit
between the district and such residences and offices, and in transit on
official business to or from foreign countries.”57 It must be pointed out
that this provision is rather unique and not typical even within the
United Nations system. In fact many Headquarters Agreements take
the opposite view and accord equal treatment to representatives of all
States, regardless of the relations between them and the host State. An
example of this non-discriminatory provision is in the Headquarters
Agreement of UNIDO which provides that the “Agreement shall apply
whether or not the Government maintains diplomatic relations with
the State or Organization concerned and irrespective of whether the
State concerned grants the same privilege or immunity to diplomatic
envoys or nationals of the Republic of Austria”.58

G. The Role of the Organization in Enforcing the

Headquarters Agreement

Another important feature of the regime of the Headquarters

Agreement is that it recognizes and consolidates the right and capacity

56
Section 12.
57
Section 15 (4).
58
Article XV, section 50, of the UNIDO Headquarters Agreement.
1486 thomas a. mensah

of the organization (generally through the Executive Head) to take

measures necessary not only to protect the interests of the organization
and its personnel but sometimes also to assert and claim rights for
other persons who may not technically be employees of the organiza-
tion. The principle that an international organization has this capacity
was enunciated as far back as 1949 in the Reparations for Injuries case.
In that case, the ICJ held that, as an entity that is accorded international
personality, the United Nations has the right to exercise “functional
protection” of its agents and, by virtue of this right, it is entitled to bring
claims on behalf of its staff for injuries suffered in the performance of
their official functions. The Court stated that the United Nations has
the right to bring an international claim against a State which has
caused damage to it by a breach of its international obligations towards
the United Nations. Further the United Nations has the right to claim
for reparations for damage caused to its agent (or persons entitled to
claim through him) as an assertion of its own right and not in a repre-
sentative capacity.59 In effect the idea is that the right of the interna-
tional organization in this respect is not very different from that of a
State in relation to its nationals under general international law. This
means that the international organization has the right and capacity to
take action, not just on behalf of the staff members of the organization,
but in its own right and on its own behalf. Where the damage is suf-
fered by the staff in the discharge of official functions, the organization
has the right and standing to bring a claim in respect of such damage.
Indeed, by virtue of the fact that the staff member has renounced alle-
giance to the State of nationality in respect of matters associated with
his or her service with the organization, it would not be unreasonable
to assume that the right and standing of the organization in this con-
text should in fact displace the right of the State of nationality of the
staff member.60

59
Reparations for Injuries case, ICJ Reports 1949, 174 (179). The Court stated:
“Upon an examination of the character of the functions entrusted to the Organization
and the nature of the mission of its agents, it becomes clear that the capacity of
Organization to exercise a measure of functional protection of its agents arises by nec-
essary intendment out of the Charter.”, id., at 184.
60
The staff member has affirmed its loyalty only to the UN and not to the State of its
nationality.
 the law of international organizations1487

The capacity of the organization to protect the interests of its staff

and agents is recognized not only when they suffer damage or injury
but also when they are denied any privileges and immunities to which
they are entitled under the Headquarters Agreement or under general
law. Thus, the organization has the right and standing to make repre-
sentations to the host State when it considers that entitlements are
being denied and, in appropriate cases, it may invoke the provisions on
dispute settlement provided for under the Headquarters Agreement.
This is particularly the case where staff members or other agents of the
organization are being subjected to the jurisdiction of national courts
of the host State in respect of matters that the organization considers to
be related to the performance of their functions to the organizations. In
such cases, the organization has the recognized right to intervene with
the appropriate authorities of the host State, both on its own behalf and
on behalf of the staff member concerned. This may be done either by
invoking the dispute settlement provisions of the headquarters agree-
ment or by intervening in court proceedings if action has been taken
against the person concerned in the courts of the host State.
There is, of course, scope for disagreement as to the activities for
which immunity may properly be claimed by or for a member of staff,
and also the circumstances in which an international organization or a
member of its staff is entitled to immunity under a headquarters agree-
ment or other instrument. In other words, it is not always clear whether
an act done or words expressed by an official of an organization should
be considered as done or uttered in the performance of official func-
tions. Unfortunately, although headquarters agreements (and the con-
stitutions of organizations on which they are based) state that personnel
of the organization enjoy immunity in respect of their official acts,
there are no provisions that specify when an act is to be considered as
an official act, and the agreements and instruments do not provide any
guidance as to who is competent to make the determination that an act
is official, if and when there is disagreement between the organization
and the host State. Two closely related issues may be raised in such a
dispute. The first is whether the act concerned is one in respect of
which immunity may appropriately be claimed; and the second is who
has the right to determine what should be the correct characterization
of the act involved?
With regard to the first question, there is a dichotomy of views. The
first view is that immunity is granted only for acts that are and can
1488 thomas a. mensah

properly be considered as falling within the scope of the responsibili-

ties and functions of an official of the organization. Since illegal activi-
ties cannot be considered to be within the scope of the functions of any
official, it would follow that activities that are outside the lawful remit
of the official cannot properly be considered to be activities in the dis-
charge of official functions. Thus where it was alleged that an official of
the United Nations was involved in espionage, it was argued that “since
espionage is not part of the functions of the United Nations, it is not an
activity to which immunity could possibly apply”.61 On the other hand
it has been contended that, although the immunity from suit applies
only with respect to official functions, determination of what are offi-
cial functions should not be left to the authorities of the host State. In
this connection it has been pointed out that one of the principal pur-
poses of immunity from suit is to protect the organization against pos-
sible interference by any State; hence conceding to the courts or other
agencies of any State the competence to determine when immunity
applies would undermine an important basis for the grant of immunity
since it would give the right to determine when the conditions for
immunity exist to the very entities whose interference is sought to be
avoided.62
This dichotomy of views was reflected in the disagreement between
the Secretary-General of the United Nations and the Government of
the United States concerning the claim by the United States authorities
that they were entitled to seek to satisfy themselves that travel under-
taken by members of United Nations staff of certain nationalities was
in fact connected with their official functions. This claim was resisted
by the Secretary-General who asserted that it was his exclusive right
and responsibility to determine the official character of any travel by
members of the staff. In doing so the Secretary-General used two argu-
ments. The first was that it was not permitted for the United States to
treat staff members on the basis of their individual nationalities. The
Secretary-General stated that “the measures proposed by the US
authorities would seem to constitute discrimination among members

61
US v. Melekh et al., US District Court for the Southern District, 20 March 1961,
reported in 32 ILR 308; see also the Coplon and Gubitchev case, 949 16 AD 29. In this
case, the United Nations did not claim immunity for persons who were accused of
espionage.
62
“The purpose of immunity is at least to prevent the very classification of behav-
iour as [illegal] from being made by those who are in a position to interfere in the work
of the organization.”, Klabbers (note 3), at 134.
 the law of international organizations1489

of the UN Secretariat solely on the basis of their nationality, in viola-

tion of the principle that they are all international civil servants whose
primary loyalty and responsibility are to the organization”. In the view
of the Secretary-General, “any discrimination among them based on
nationality runs counter to the essential character of the international
civil service as envisaged in the Charter of the United Nations. The
unity of the international civil service is absolutely essential if the
Organization is to carry out its worldwide obligations with staff mem-
bers whose individual nationalities might otherwise not be acceptable
to Governments with whom they have to deal or within whose juris-
diction they must operate”.63 The second and more important reason
given by the Secretary-General was that a departure from the position
that “the determination as to the official character of the functions is
the exclusive province of the United Nations” would adversely affect
the proper functioning of the secretariat and, hence, of the organiza-
tion. The Secretary-General stated that he was particularly concerned
with “the final provisions [of the US Note] that the United States
Government reserves the right to review whether travel designated as
official by the SG is “bona fide” official travel of the UN”. In the view of
the Secretary-General this raised “a particular problem with regard to
the SG’s independent exercise of his responsibilities under the Charter
free from national interference”.64 The Secretary-General’s position was
that granting such a right to the US authorities would undermine the
independence of the SG in the discharge of his functions, which is an
essential condition for the effective running of the organization.
This principle had been invoked by the Secretary-General in a
previous context. At that time the Secretary-General stated: “The
United Nations considers that determination as to the official charac-
ter of functions is the exclusive province of the United Nations.
If national courts could make such a determination then a mass of
conflicting decisions would be inevitable … and in many cases it would
be tantamount to a total denial of immunity.”65 This position was
accepted and endorsed by the International Court of Justice in its 1999
Advisory Opinion on the Difference Relating to Immunity from Legal
Process of a Special Rapporteur of the Commission on Human Rights
(Cumaraswamy case). The Court stated: “The Secretary-General, as the

63
UNJYB, at 150–151 (1985).
64
Id., at 151.
65
UNJYB 236–239, at 238 (1985).
1490 thomas a. mensah

chief administrative officer of the Organization, has the authority and

the responsibility to exercise the necessary protection where required.
… When national courts are seised of a case in which the immunity of
a United Nations agent is in issue, they should immediately be notified
of any finding by the Secretary-General concerning that immunity.
That finding, and its documentary expression, creates a presumption
which can only be set aside for the most compelling reasons …”66

H. The Role of the Organization in the Implementation of

the Agreement

In some important respects, the headquarters agreement contains pro-

visions that give to the organization rights and responsibilities beyond
the rights and interests of the organization and its own personnel. In
some cases, the right and capacity of the organization to enforce the
provisions of the Agreement may in fact extend to the rights and inter-
ests of persons who would not normally be regarded as employees of
the organization. In the same way and on the same basis, the organiza-
tion also has the right and capacity to bring claims where appropriate
or otherwise to take steps to defend the rights or interests of States,
organizations and institutions participating in the work of the organi-
zation, including persons composing their representations to the
organization.67 In addition, the organization may be entitled (and also
required) to involve itself in matters that in other situations would be
exclusively within the purview of individual member States. Thus, for
example, under the Headquarters Agreement of the United Nations,
the permanent staff members of a permanent mission to the United
Nations (with the exception of the principal Permanent Representatives
or Permanent Representatives with the rank of ambassador or Minister
Plenipotentiary) must be agreed upon between the host State (the
United States), the Secretary-General of the United Nations and the
sending State.68

66
ICJ Reports 1999, 62, paras. 50 and 61. See H. Fox, The Advisory Opinion on the
Difference Relating to Immunity From Legal Process of a Special Rapporteur of the
Commission on Human Rights: Who has the Last Word on Judicial Independence?,
12 Leiden Journal of International Law 889 (1999).
67
See supra note 21.
68
Section15 (2) of the Headquarters Agreement between the United Nations and
the United States provides that such resident members of the staff of the Permanent
Mission of a Member State “as may be agreed upon between the Secretary-General,
 the law of international organizations1491

As previously noted, the headquarters agreement sets the rights and

facilities granted to the organization and its personnel as well as the
privileges, immunities and facilities to be accorded to representatives
of governments and organizations which participate in the work of the
organization. In all cases, it is expressly recognized that these privileges
and immunities are accorded not for the individual benefit of the States
or persons concerned but solely to enable the States and persons con-
cerned effectively to discharge their functions and for the organization
to be able fully to pursue its objectives and purposes. It would seem to
follow that, where rights, privileges or immunities are accorded for the
benefit of the organization, the organization would have the right and
the capacity to take steps necessary (including the bringing of suits or
recourse to other avenues) to protect those rights, in its own name and
not necessarily in conjunction with or at the request of the States or
persons concerned.69
A necessary consequence of the principle that the immunities are
essentially for the organization and not for the personal benefit of the
persons enjoying them is that such immunity should not be invoked
merely to protect the personal interests of the persons concerned.
Hence, where immunity will not result in a gain for the organization or
where the denial of immunity is unlikely to have any adverse effect on
the organization or its ability to perform its function, the expectation is
that immunity will be waived. This is demonstrated by numerous pro-
visions in headquarters agreements which assert the right (and obliga-
tion) to waive immunity where waiver will not prejudice the purpose
behind the grant of the immunity. For example, the Headquarters
Agreement between the ICC and the Government of the Netherlands
has several provisions on this issue. One of them states: “Privileges,
immunities and facilities provided in … this Agreement are accorded
to the representatives of States, members of the Bureau and intergov-
ernmental organizations not for the personal benefit of the individuals

the Government of the United States and the Government of the Member concerned”,
are entitled in the territory of the United States to the same privileges and immunities,
as it accords to diplomatic envoys accredited to it.
69
Thus the organization has the exclusive right to invoke the dispute settlement
procedures under the Headquarters Agreement in cases of alleged non-performance
by the host State, even where non-performance would adversely affect other persons or
parties. It is interesting to note that the exclusive right of the organization to claim
rights or to seek clarification or commence procedures for dispute settlement under
the Agreement rests with the Secretary-General (Section 21). See also the Darlington
case UNAT: Judgment No 588 of 23 June 1993 Para. x: it is within the reasonable dis-
cretion of the (Executive Head) to activate the dispute settlement process.
1492 thomas a. mensah

themselves, but in order to safeguard the independent performance of

their functions in connection with the work of the Assembly, including
its Bureau and subsidiary bodies, and the Court. Consequently, States
Parties to the Agreement on Privileges and Immunities of the Court
not only have the right but are under a duty to waive the privileges,
immunities and facilities of their representatives in any case where, in
the opinion of those States, they would impede the course of justice
and can be waived without prejudice to the purpose for which the priv-
ileges, immunities and facilities are accorded. States not party to the
Agreement on Privileges and Immunities of the Court and intergov-
ernmental organizations are granted the privileges, immunities and
facilities provided for in … this Agreement on the understanding that
they undertake the same duty regarding waiver.”70 In most cases, the
right (and corresponding duty) to waive immunity rests on the
Executive Head who is endowed with the power to act in the name, and
on behalf, of the organization. However, in certain cases, this function
may be assigned to some other authority expressly designated for that
purpose in the relevant Headquarters Agreement.71

I. Obligations of the Organization, Personnel

and Member States

But the headquarters agreement does not only impose obligations on

the host State or accord privileges and immunities to the Organization
and its personnel. In return for the rights and privileges the headquar-
ters agreement also imposes obligations and responsibilities on the
organization and its staff as well as on member States and other entities
which are accorded or enjoy rights and privileges by virtue of the
Agreement.
In addition to the duty to waive immunities in appropriate cases,
the organization itself is normally under an obligation to ensure that
those who enjoy the rights and privileges under the Agreement (and

70
Article 31 of the ICC Headquarters Agreement. This is repeated in the relevant
provisions which accord privileges and immunities to other categories of persons.
Provisions to the same effect are to be found in the General Convention on Privileges
and Immunities of the United Nations, the Specialized Agencies Convention, and in
almost all other Headquarters Agreements with organizations and bodies within and
outside of the United Nations system.
71
Articles 30–32 of the ICC Headquarters Agreement contain an elaborate listing
of the different authorities and entities who are entitled (and required) to waive
immunity.
 the law of international organizations1493

those for whom such rights are demanded) are in fact entitled to those
rights and that they meet the conditions laid down or expected for the
enjoyment of these rights.72 This is reflected in provisions that require
the Executive Head to certify the persons who are entitled to privileges
and immunities. For example, the Executive Head will normally be
required to provide the host State with lists of the persons covered by
various provisions of the headquarters agreement, including officials of
the organization and (sometimes) members of the missions of States.
Where identity cards are issued to members entitled to privileges and
immunities, the organization is usually required to ensure that the
cards are returned upon final departure of the persons concerned from
the territory of the host State.73
It is also the responsibility of the organization to ensure that those
who enjoy such rights respect the principles and purposes for which
the rights are accorded and to not directly or indirectly abuse the rights.
In effect, it is the duty and responsibility of the organization to “police”
the enjoyment of rights by all concerned and to make sure, to the extent
possible, that the rights are not abused and to ensure that the laws of
the host State are respected. Among others, headquarters agreements
impose the obligation on the organization to “take every precaution to
ensure that no abuse of privilege or immunity … shall occur”. For this
purpose the organization is to “establish such rules and regulations as
may be deemed necessary and expedient, for officials … and for such
other persons as may be appropriate”.74 And, while headquarters agree-
ments provide that the organization has the sole right to control what
takes place in its premises and may refuse entry thereto by agents of the
host State, they also invariably contain provisions which impose on the
organization (through its Executive Head) the obligation not to permit
the premises to be used as a refuge from justice.75

72
This includes the obligation of the Secretary General to provide a list of persons
entitled to privileges.
73
 For example Article 35 of the ICC Headquarters Agreement, Article 20 of the
UNESCO Headquarters Agreement, and Article X of the Headquarters Agreement of
the Organization of the Black Sea Economic Cooperation.
74
UNIDO Headquarters Agreement, Article XV, section 49 (a).
75
“The Court shall prevent its premises from being used as a refuge by persons who
are avoiding arrest or the proper administration of justice under the laws of the host
State.”, ICC Headquarters Agreement, Article 6, paragraph 5. The equivalent provision
(Section 9) in the Headquarters Agreement of the United Nations is “… the United
Nations shall prevent the headquarters district from becoming a refuge either for per-
sons who are avoiding arrest under the federal, state, or local laws of the United States
or are required by the Government of the United States for extradition to another
country, or for persons who are endeavouring to avoid the service of legal process”.
1494 thomas a. mensah

J. Concluding Remarks

A headquarters agreement plays an important role in the law of an

international organization. Although there are general principles of
law on the legal status and position of international organizations, it is
often necessary to specify clearly the exact parameters for the applica-
tion of these principles to a particular organization. This is done in the
headquarters agreement which sets out the specific procedures for
applying general principles in practice in the concrete relations between
an organization and the particular host State.
The headquarters agreement enables the organization and the host
State to make provision for specific issues and problems that may arise
in practice but which it may not be appropriate, or sometimes possible,
to deal with in the constitutive instrument of the organization or even
in a general agreement on the privileges and immunities of the organi-
zation. The headquarters agreement operates on the explicit basis that
the organization is an independent juridical entity with the status and
capacity to enter into an agreement under international law. In this
respect, the headquarters agreement generally goes much further than
a general agreement because it represents a contractual agreement to
which the organization is a party in its own right. This has legal conse-
quences different from the situation under the constitution of the
organization or a general agreement on privileges and immunities.
Under a headquarters agreement the organization claims rights and
exercises a role in its capacity as a party to the agreement, a capacity
that it does not have under the constitutive instrument or under a gen-
eral agreement on privileges and immunities.
Although the headquarters agreement is primarily an agreement
between the organization and the host State and essentially governs
the relationship between the organization and the host State, it could
have implications far beyond the narrow confines of the interface
between the organization and host state. Apart from matters affecting
the organization and its staff, the headquarters agreement also deals
with other important matters that directly or indirectly affect the
interests of other member States of the organization, as well as other
States and organizations which participate in the work of the organiza-
tion. For apart from setting out what the host State can and cannot do
with respect to the premises, property and assets of the organization,
the agreement also deals with issues which affect other member States
in a direct way. In many cases, a headquarters agreement contains
 the law of international organizations1495

important provisions and raises major issues relating to the status and
rights of member States( and other States) vis à vis the host State.
In the same way provisions of the headquarters agreement can affect
the rights and privileges that are of interest and concern to different
institutions that participate in different aspects of the work of the
organization. For example, arrangements made by member States for
the purpose of their participation in the work of the organization,
including the establishment and operation of offices and related facili-
ties are often addressed in the headquarters agreement. The same is
true of the aspects of the internal law of the organization that may
impinge on fundamental principles applicable in the host State. This is
especially the case where the independence of the organization to regu-
late its affairs has to be balanced with the need to protect certain legal
and political values that are considered to be fundamental by the host
State. The headquarters agreement provides a means for the organiza-
tion to adopt the flexibility needed to enable it to enjoy the independ-
ence needed for its operation, without denying to the host State the
right to protect its fundamental public policies and enforce its basic
legal requirements.
Finally, the headquarters agreement recognizes the central role of
the organization in ensuring the effective enjoyment of the rights and
facilities necessary for the various categories of persons to perform
their functions in relation to the organization, and for the organization
to pursue its purposes and objectives. This role of the organization is
particularly important in the sphere of dispute settlement. The fact that
the organization and the host State are the only parties to the agree-
ment means that, for the most part, it will be the responsibility and the
right of the organization to determine whether and to what extent
rights belonging to a member State or another person or institution
participating in the work of the organization have to be claimed, and it
has the means for doing this in any particular situation. This may be
one area in which the special nature and functions of the international
organization in the new international legal order may be seen to be
even more pertinent.
 The Importance of Generality in Law-Making
International Agreements

Fred L. Morrison

The emergence of treaty regimes to regulate parts of international rela-

tions has become a common theme in the past half century. Multilateral
treaties establish rules for the signatories, but often do so with an
expectation of eventual universal acceptance or gradual incorporation
into the body of customary international law, binding on all. Treaty
systems may stand a greater chance of achieving that level of ratifica-
tion and acceptance if they are in a form that articulates rules in gener-
alized terms, rather than in specific commands for specific states.
The form in which they are written may make a difference. As trea-
ties increasingly perform statute-like functions in the international
legal system, it may be desirable to formulate them in statute-like
terms.
Treaties are a special kind of legal instrument. Some treaties reflect
simple bargains between state parties. When they do so, they may do
no more than record that bargain, and omit the rationale that led to the
conclusion. These include instruments like the recent New START
treaty between Russia and the United States.1 Among other things, it
limits the number of deployed nuclear warheads for each of those states
to 1,550 and provides an inspection regime. There is no effort to explain
the basis of the number 1,550–it is just an agreed number. Other bar-
gained treaties include trade agreements, in which one side seeks a
concession on one item of trade and the other seeks a different conces-
sion; each party is satisfied with the bargain or “deal” although each has
received something different. These treaties represent bargains or
“deals” that the parties have concluded. In some ways they can be com-
pared to a contract between private parties.
Other treaties reflect an effort to create more general international
legal norms which, their authors hope, will eventually become the basic

1
Measures for the Further Reduction and Limitation of Strategic Offensive
Arms, 8 April 2010, Vol. XXIII No. 2, available at http://www.state.gov/documents/
organization/140035.pdf.
1498 fred l. morrison

standards for all nations either from universal acceptance of the treaty
instrument or through gradual incorporation of its principles into the
body of customary international law. Instruments like the United
Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea,2 many of the human rights
treaties3 and many of the codification treaties4 are examples. It would
be much more difficult to determine what actual tangible benefit was
reaped by each of the participant states; the ultimate benefit is a better
ordered world, not a simple exchange between the parties to the con-
vention. They represent an agreement that standards should apply to
certain conduct in the international community, and can be compared
to legislation.
If one is seeking to establish a set of international norms, the use of
the more abstract approach may improve the chances of success of the
instrument. In the negotiating phase, it may require states to articulate
their positions in normative terms, rather than on the basis of claimed
exemptions or rights. In the ratification phase, it may assist the ratify-
ing body by explaining why a particular burden was allocated to that
state. In the implementation phase, it may reinforce the legal obligation
to follow through on the treaty commitment. It may also aid in public
acceptance of the underlying purpose of the treaty.
Whatever their form, all treaties create international legal obliga-
tions. Pacta sunt servanda. Treaties of both types are subject to the
same international standards concerning their validity, interpreta-
tion, and application. In large part this is now provided by the
Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties,5 although customary inter-
national law still plays a significant role, especially in the case of older
agreements.
The way in which domestic audiences respond to such treaties may,
nevertheless, differ greatly. This may be important in all phases of the

2
United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, 10 December 1982, 1833
UNTS 3.
3
The Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide,
78 UNTS 271, the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial
Discrimination, 660 UNTS 195, the International Covenant on Economic, Social and
Cultural Rights, 993 UNTS 3, the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights,
999 UNTS 171, and the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination
Against Women, 1249 UNTS 13, are examples.
4
The Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations, 500 UNTS 95, the Vienna
Convention on Consular Relations, 596 UNTS 261, the Vienna Convention on the Law
of Treaties, 1155 UNTS 331, and the Vienna Convention on the Succession of States in
Respect of Treaties, 1946 UNTS 3, are examples.
5
See supra note 4.
 generality in law-making international agreements1499

treaty process, the negotiation stage, the ratification stage, and the
implementation stage. If a treaty appears in a contract-like format, the
basic question at the time of ratification and domestic implementation
is primarily “Did we get a good deal?” The ratifying body–and the pub-
lic that it represents–will test the agreement in terms of the benefits
gained against the costs paid. Global good governance is irrelevant. If,
however, the treaty appears in a legislation-like format, setting forth
rules for the disposition of future issues, the basic question is quite dif-
ferent. It is primarily “Is this a good way to regulate this subject mat-
ter?” Global good governance may be a positive factor.
There may be other differences as well. A treaty that is basically a
“deal” will be more difficult to generalize. Its terms are unlikely to
become part of the body of general international law, although its
underlying principles may do so. A treaty that is stated in legislative
terms may come to be applied more broadly by all nations.
The effect of the difference between these two approaches can be
seen in the relative success (or lack thereof) of the treaties that regulate
two aspects of international environmental law. These are the ozone
regime and the climate change regime. The ozone treaties were brought
about because of fears about the depletion of the ozone layer above the
earth. They consist of the framework Vienna Convention for the
Protection of the Ozone Layer,6 the Montreal Protocol,7 and a number
of subsequent protocols.8 The climate change treaties were brought
about by concern about global warming caused by greenhouse
gases. They consist of the United Nations Framework Convention on
Climate Change,9 the Kyoto Protocol,10 and the more recent less-than-
successful attempt to update it.11
Both of these bodies of law are based on framework conventions that
identify the underlying problem (depletion of the ozone layer and

    6
Vienna Convention for the Protection of the Ozone Layer, 22 March 1985, 1513
UNTS 293.
    7
Montreal Protocol on Substances That Deplete the Ozone Layer, 16 September
1987, 1522 UNTS 3.
    8
Amendments to the Montreal Protocol were adopted at London (1990),
Copenhagen (1992), Montreal (1997) are in force. An additional amendment was
adopted in Beijing (1999), but has not yet entered into force.
    9
United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, 9 May 1992, 1771
UNTS 107.
10
 Kyoto Protocol, 7 December 1997, 37 ILM 22 (1997).
11
 Copenhagen Accord, 7–18 December 2009, Conference of the Parties, Fifteenth
session, available at http://unfccc.int/resource/docs/2009/cop15/eng/l07.pdf.
1500 fred l. morrison

increase of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere, respectively). Both of

those treaty regimes call for periodic conferences that create protocols
to implement that commitment.12 Both call for periodic review and
revision of standards at those conferences.13 Both give special protec-
tion to developing countries.14 Yet they take different approaches in
doing so. The ozone regime has primarily articulated its expectations
and standards in statute-like general terms, while the climate change
regime has tended to identify specific participating states by name and
has given them specifically identified responsibilities for contributing
to the resolution of the problem. It uses much more specific contract-
like terms. The ozone regime has been largely successful, while the cli-
mate change regime has struggled. Why is this?
Most of the difference in acceptance is undoubtedly based on the
nature and magnitude of the risks and benefits involved and the impact
on the parties most deeply affected. Ozone depletion and the resulting
ultraviolet radiation presented a near-term health hazard for all of the
populations of the world, which thus rallied to resolve the problem. In
contrast, climate change will have its most disastrous impacts in lim-
ited areas, thus attracting less support. The economic effects of restric-
tions of the ozone regime primarily fell on a single company in a single
state, but that company was prepared to move on to other product
lines. The economic effects of restrictions on greenhouse gases, neces-
sary to control climate change, would have more far-reaching impacts.
The costs of reducing ozone depletion were manageable; those of cli-
mate change are much higher.
But there is also a difference in the way the two treaty regimes
approach the problem and in the language that they use. The protocols
to the ozone convention read like statutes. They set out in general terms
prohibitions of the production or use of certain gases. The annexes
read like administrative regulations; they include exhaustive lists of the
prohibited gases and their chemical compositions. The protocols do

12
Vienna Convention for the Protection of the Ozone Layer, 22 March 1985,
Article 6; United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, 9 May 1992,
Article 7.
13
Vienna Convention for the Protection of the Ozone Layer, 22 March 1985,
Article 2; United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, 9 May 1992,
Article 2 (2).
14
Montreal Protocol on Substances That Deplete the Ozone Layer, 16 September
1987, Article 5; United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, 9 May
1992, Article 11.
 generality in law-making international agreements1501

not identify particular states by name, nor do they set a separate reduc-
tion goal for any of them. The Montreal Protocol does not say that the
United States (or the DuPont company) must stop making Freon gas,
but rather says that all countries must restrict and then cease produc-
tion and use of the listed chlorofluorocarbons. It does not name the
developing nations for which it will provide special accommodation,
but rather provides such a commitment in generic terms.
Although the Framework Convention on Climate Change sets forth
similar lofty general goals the climate change regime operates much
more on a bargain basis, stating its regulations largely by restrictions
on named and identified states. The states bargain among themselves,
not about the principles that should apply, but about the specific results
that each should achieve.
Two specific examples from the climate change regime illustrate the
problems that this approach generates. The first is contained in the
Framework Convention itself. It introduces the concept of “common
but differentiated responsibility”, which laudably provides a special
consideration for the needs of developing countries. Unlike most other
international regimes, however, the Climate Change Convention does
not do so in the abstract. It does so by naming the states that will be
required to reduce emissions to assist in the resolution of the prob-
lem.15 States that were less developing when the convention was drafted
in 1992 are exempt from most of its requirements, even if subsequently
their development status dramatically improves or their emissions
greatly increase. Annex I of the convention lists the states that will be
required to reduce their emissions. That annex reflects the economic
and carbon-dioxide-producing status of the world two decades ago.
States can be added to Annex I only if they agree.16 A state not identi-
fied in that list can, consistent with the treaty obligation, greatly increase
its emissions, causing the problem to worsen. It may do so even if its
economy has in the intervening years become more developed. In the
preparation for the Copenhagen negotiations, there were reports that
some such states resisted any suggestion that they also take steps to
contribute to the solution of the overall problem. Such positions make
it much more difficult for developed countries to agree to specific

15
United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, 9 May 1992,
Article 4, Annexes I and II. Note that these annexes are lists of those potentially bur-
dened by the Convention, not of those exempted as developing states.
16
Id., Art. 4 (2) (f) and (g).
1502 fred l. morrison

reduction targets. They also make it exceedingly difficult to obtain rati-

fication of any subsequent protocol, at least in those states in which
there is not rigorous party discipline in the ratifying body to enforce
the government’s decision to sign the treaty.17
The other example is in the allocation of responsibility for emissions.
It can be seen most clearly in the reduction targets in Annex B of the
Kyoto Protocol. It is a “bargained result” approach, rather than a “prin-
cipled rationale” approach. Annex B provided a list of the states
required to implement reductions of emissions, together with specific
target emissions levels for each of them. These ranged from 92 % to
110 % of the base level, with most states being at the 92 % level, an 8 %
reduction. The protocol itself simply lists these targets; it provides no
explanation of the reasons for the differential. While many of the vari-
ances were explicable, e.g., special consideration for states whose econ-
omies were transitioning from socialist economies, others seemed
quite inexplicable. The absence of such rationale is in sharp contrast to
the way reductions of ozone-depleting chemicals were prescribed in
the Montreal Protocol and its successors, which primary emphasis was
on identification of the offending gases and their near-total elimina-
tion, rather than on the emitters.
Shifting to such a “reasoned basis” approach would undermine
claims that the allocations of responsibility for reducing emissions
were simply arbitrary. It would not necessarily undermine the principle
of common but differentiated responsibility. Such an approach could
protect developing states–but it would only protect those that were
currently developing states, not those which were so two decades ago
but no longer fit that classification. It could also exempt states whose
emissions were below a certain per capita level–but that measure
would need to be based on current status, not that of two decades ago.
Such a process would probably reach results remarkably similar to the
results of the Kyoto protocol, but do so in a way that was far less
objectionable.
Examples can be found in other treaty regimes. Part IV of the Law of
the Sea Convention contains elaborate provisions delimiting the base-
lines of archipelagic states. It would have been much simpler to name

17
F. L. Morrison, The Reluctance of the United States to Ratify Treaties, in:
H. Hestermeyer (ed.), Law of the Sea in Dialogue, Beiträge zum ausländischen öffentli-
chen Recht und Völkerrecht, Vol. 221, at 73 (2011).
 generality in law-making international agreements1503

them and describe their boundaries, but the drafters of that convention
wisely chose to articulate the standards in generic terms.
Especially when the treaty negotiators take the treaty or protocol
home for ratification and implementation, there is a big difference
between these two approaches. It may be easier to obtain a needed con-
sensus for ratification if the debates are articulated in abstract terms,
rather than in specific allocations to specific states. It should be easier
to obtain assent in the ratification process and in the enactment of
necessary laws to implement the obligation, if the obligation is articu-
lated in the principled terms than if it is on unexplained numerical
commitments.
This is not to say that the actual effects of the treaty on national inter-
ests would be ignored in the domestic debates on the provisions. It is
rather to say that those actual effects would become secondary in the
public discourse. This could provide an opportunity for more progress
toward the desired end result.
Environmental treaties, by their very nature, require domestic
implementation. Since legislative bodies are frequently involved in rat-
ification and implementation of such treaty obligations, it is useful to
think about how domestic legal systems formulate norms. Laws that
specifically name persons and place direct burdens on them are rare in
domestic legal systems. Most lawyers would regard a domestic law that
allocated some burden simply by identifying by name the individuals
who would be subject to it exceedingly odd and probably in violation
of some basic right. We normally expect a law to contain a generalized
statement of principles and rules, rather than a specific identification of
the individual affected. Application of that general rule to the particu-
lar case is a task for the administration or judiciary, and is not normally
regarded as a legislative act.
This requirement of generality is sometimes articulated as part of the
definition of law, or as a requirement of uniformity. Constitutional
arguments for it are usually based on principles of equality before the
law or on the separation of powers between legislative and executive
functions. Because of space limitations, only a few can be briefly
mentioned here. The German Basic Law, for example, prohibits legisla-
tion aimed at a single instance.18 As Karl Doehring says, “Das Verbot
des Einzelfallgesetzes (Article 19 Abs. 1 GG) bedeutet, daß ein den

18
Basic Law for the Federal Republic of Germany (Grundgesetz, GG), Article 19,
para. 1.
1504 fred l. morrison

Staatsbürger belastendes Gesetz in seiner Auswirkung nicht derjenigen

eines Verwaltungsaktes entsprechen darf.”19 Principles of equality20
would also enter into such a discussion. Applying this standard, the
approach of the Kyoto Protocol certainly looks like an administrative
act, which would put it beyond the power of the legislative body.
French jurisprudence likewise formally defines law, at least in a
material sense, as being general in nature. George Vedel writes, “On
définera la loi du point de vue matériel comme la règle de droit ‘géné-
rale et permanente’. C’est son contenu que dèfinit.”21 Annex B of the
Kyoto Protocol is certainly not general in its language. It is simply a list.
Vedel’s characterization is, however, jurisprudential; he recognizes that
the Parliament can enact legislation that fails the test of generality.
American law prohibits both the national and the state governments
from enacting bills of attainder.22 This has been broadly interpreted to
prohibit Congress from imposing special burdens on named individu-
als. The United States Supreme Court struck down a law that sought to
discipline a few civil service employees by prohibiting the payment of
their salaries.23 Other efforts to impose burdens on named individuals
by legislative actions have been stricken down on separation of powers
grounds.24 State constitutions frequently have clauses prohibiting “spe-
cial legislation”.25
In each of these systems, there are exceptions and limitations to the
expectation of generality. Most of the exceptions involve legislation
that benefits, rather than burdens, the individual named in the law.
A legislative act may grant a pension for meritorious service, or grant
citizenship, or provide a benefit without violating the requirement. In
such a situation, no one is in a position to complain that he or she has
been singled out. It cannot impose a tax on a named individual or
deprive a person of citizenship, or impose a burden.

19
 Karl Doehring, Staatsrecht, at 173 (3rd ed. 2003).
20
Basic Law for the Federal Republic of Germany (Grundgesetz, GG), Article 3.
21
Georges Vedel, Manuel élémentaire de Droit Constitutionnel, Vol. 1, at 479
(1949).
22
 Constitution of the United States of America, Article 1, Sec. 9 (prohibiting federal
bills of attainder); Article 1, Sec. 10 (prohibiting bills of attainder enacted by state
legislatures).
23
United States v. Lovett, (1946) 328 US 303.
24
Immigration and Naturalization Service v. Chadha, (1983) 462 US 919.
25
See, for example, Constitution of the State of Minnesota, Article 12, Sec. 1 (“In all
cases when a general law can be made applicable, a special law shall not be enacted.
Whether a general law could have been made applicable in any case shall be judicially
determined without regard to any legislative assertion on that subject.”)
 generality in law-making international agreements1505

A requirement of generality also does not prevent law from applying

differently to individuals who are truly differently situated. It can, for
example, impose one level of income tax on most people and a higher
level on those with a higher income, but it must do so by description
rather than enumeration. It cannot name the people who will have the
higher rate; it must describe them. Legislative bodies do this regularly.
They certainly understand the actual impact of their abstract formula-
tion, but they nevertheless conduct their public discourse on the
abstract level. By changing the focus for the differentiation from iden-
tification of the person to identification of the class or category, the
reason for the differentiation becomes patently transparent. That can
make the classification more acceptable. International regimes might
be well served by emulating this approach.
International treaty regimes do not usually have the same level of
administrative apparatus as a domestic legal system, but they possess
enough resources to transform generic rules, adopted by a conference
of the parties and ratified by the domestic processes of each party, into
individual standards for each state. If the standards are drafted care-
fully and the necessary factual data is available, the standards could be
converted to applicable operational limits by the secretariat or by a
subsidiary body of the regime. Such a determination would not itself
be a treaty and thus would not be subject to ratification or approval by
each member state.26
An effort to articulate the limitations in a law-making interna-
tional treaty regime in general terms could change the tenor of both the
negotiations and of the ratification debates. Generality does not mean
uniformity. Special protections could still be retained, where war-
ranted, but they would have to be articulated in terms that were pub-
licly defensible. If that were done, discussion of the merits of the
proposal could be on the basis of the principles of the decision, not
simply on the numerical result. Such an approach might add another
step to the negotiation process, but it could facilitate acceptance of the
final product in those states in which the ratification process is more
than a formality.

26
Indeed, the ozone regime already has a mechanism that makes adjustments to the
protocol and modifications to standards without subjecting them to the national ratifi-
cation requirement. See Montreal Protocol on Substances That Deplete the Ozone
Layer, 16 September 1987, Article 2, para. 9.
 Legitimacy of UN member states

Volker Röben

Rüdiger Wolfrum has long been a champion of international organisa-

tion, and the UN in particular, emphasizing its instrumentality in
developing an internationalised approach to matters of common con-
cern to the international community.1 More recently, he has been
championing the institutional development of states, in Afghanistan
and in Sudan. These two strands of his work are closely connected
through his prominent concern for the legitimacy of international law
and international organisation, as I shall argue in these pages.
What follows are, first, thoughts about a normative framework for
assessing the legitimacy of the member states of international organisa-
tions (A). There will then be explored, second, empirical implications
for the UN. Within the space of this Festschrift-contribution, my efforts
will be intended, primarily, to ask questions. These will relate to the UN
identifying the rationale for requesting that its member states meet a
certain level of legitimacy (B), the emerging UN legal standards impos-
ing legitimacy demands on member states, if any (C), and the enforce-
ment of these standards by the organisation (D).

A. Legitimacy of International Organisations and Their

Member States

International law in general can be normatively evaluated against a

number of standards such as peace, security, prosperity, or solidarity.2
A foundationally important standard against which to evaluate and
develop international law is its legitimacy.3 Regardless of or perhaps

1
 Cf. R. Wolfrum, Die Internationalisierung staatsfreier Räume (1984).
2
 Cf. T. Franck, Fairness in International Law and Institutions, at 6; R. Wolfrum,
Concluding Rermarks, in: id./Kojima (eds.), Solidarity: A Structural Principle of
International Law, at 235 (2010).
3
 Cf. R. Wolfrum/V. Röben (eds.), Legitimacy in International Law (2008);
R. Wolfrum, Legitimacy in International Law, in: A. Reinisch/U. Kriebaum (eds.),
Liber amicorum Neuhold, 470 (2007); J. Tasioulas, The Legitimacy of International
Law, in: id./S. Besson (eds.), The Philosophy of International Law, at 978 (2010).
1508 volker röben

rather because of its central importance, legitimacy is, however, a

contestable notion, and therefore orientation over what we under-
stand to constitute the legitimacy of international law is needed (I),
before we can embark on the further inquest into the legitimacy
of international organisations, as creatures and creators of interna-
tional law (II).

I. Legitimacy of International Law

1. A Conception of Legitimacy
The very conception of legitimacy is contestable and contested. This is
the case for the domestic context and for the international context. The
preferred definition often already implies the author’s preference for a
particular strand or interpretation of legitimacy within the gamut
of approaches to the topic.4 A generally shared conceptual starting
point is, however, that legitimacy is a necessary feature of any system of
law that claims content-independent authority.5 Such authority distin-
guishes itself from, e.g., any instrumental value that legal norms may
have.

2. Standards of Legitimacy: Input, Output, Procedure

Querying the standard of legitimacy, it becomes clear that there are at
least three variants on the legitimacy of (international) law, call them
input, output,6 and procedural legitimacy.7 Input legitimacy implies a

Tasioulas points out, correctly, that this normative inquiry is an important advance
over previous ontologically motivated inquires whether international law really “is”
law.
4
The important volume Philosophy of International Law (2010) edited by Tasiou­
las and Besson contains four contributions dealing with legitimacy of international
law (A. Buchanan, The legitimacy of international law, 79; Tasioulas (note 3), 97;
T. Christiano, Democratic Legitimacy and International Institutions, 119; P. Pettit,
Legitimate International Institutions: A Neo-Republican Perspective, 139) with each
writer offering a definition that implies his or her preferred concept of legitimacy.
5
 Tasioulas (note 3), at 98; Christiano (note 4), at 120.
6
 A special case of output legitimacy may be seen to be constituted by “service legiti-
macy” as advocated by Tasioulas (note 3).
7
 R. Wolfrum, Legitimacy of International Law and the Exercise of Adminis­
trative Functions: The Example of the International Seabed Authority, the Inter­­
national Maritime Organisation (IMO) and International Fisheries Organizations, in:
 legitimacy of un member states1509

certain institutional design8 that will ensure that the consent of the
governed finds representative expression.9
These standards of legitimacy are inextricably connected. It is not
possible to renounce any of the three, claiming that input, output or
procedural variant can by it itself provide the level of legitimation
required. In particular, input legitimacy–consent–cannot be declared
to be any less fundamental in order to focus on output or service legiti-
macy.10 The urge to do so may be understandable if one is motivated by
the wish to escape as much as possible the verdict of international law
not being law at all. But it would open precisely the chasm in the under-
standing of legitimacy of domestic and of international law that
many of the more recent voices in the field attempt to close. For that
reason, input legitimacy is a necessary if not sufficient criterion
of legitimacy at the international as much as at the domestic level.
Perhaps more importantly, input legitimacy will crucially impact on
the realisation of output legitimacy. Stability and peace, for instance,
are output legitimacy indicators predicated on a polity’s institutions
providing input legitimacy.11

3. Legitimacy and its (Legal) Standards

Legitimacy is the normative (moral) rationale providing international
law with authority. It is also the rationale justifying legal standard-
setting to advance legitimacy concerns. Indeed, legitimacy is thus a
rationale driving the development of law as much as it is a standard for
assessing it.

A. von Bogdandy/R. Wolfrum/J. von Bernstorff/P. Dann/M. Goldmann (eds.), The

Exercise of Public Authority by International Institutions, 917 (2010).
    8
 I use institutions here in the narrower, organizational sense, as opposed to the
broader understanding of organized, rule governed, coordinated behaviour, see
Buchanan (note 4), at 80. Buchanan counts as “international law-making institutions
(ILIs)” the institution of treaty-making, the institution of customary international law,
and global governance institutions. This then leads him to claim the primacy of the
legitimacy of legal institutions over law.
    9
 For discussion of alternative input conceptions based on cosmopolitanism see
E. Erisken, Democratic legitimacy beyond borders–Government without a state, in:
R. Forst/R. Schmalz-Bruns (eds.), Political Legitimacy and Democracy in Transnational
Perspective, 245 (2011). Eriksen concludes, compellingly, that even a cosmopolitan
approach cannot do without institutional underpinnings.
10
 Contra Buchanan (note 4), at 90–4; Tasioulas (note 3), at 100.
11
This insight is clearly conveyed in the 2011 World Development Report of the
World Bank, available at <http://wdr2011. Worldbank.org/fulltext>.
1510 volker röben

II. Legitimacy of International Organisations

Broadly, these international law-related considerations also apply to
the legitimacy of inter­na­tional organisations.12 International organisa-
tions are based on in­ter­national law,13 they formalise the cooperation of
states under international law and they facilitate the process of making
new international law. The next step is to ask what level of governance
within international organisations legitimacy demands can be directed
to. Are these demands directed to the international organisation, to the
member states, or to both? The latter appears to be the correct answer.
Given that it is to have a will of its own14 and conferred powers for
own decisions, every international organisation will have to respond to
the need to identify the source of its legitimacy. Standards for assessing
an organisation’s output (service) legitimacy ought to be inferred from
the organisation’s foundational document that will often spell out the
organisation’s objectives, and these objectives may be seen to explicate
the service functions that the member states want it to fulfil and will
allow it to be assessed against.
As discussed above, output legitimacy will need to be complemented
by input legitimacy. Identifying the source of an organisation’s input
legitimacy will normally be a less straightforward matter of textual
interpretation of the foundational document of the organisation. The
relevant considerations may rather be implied. A general statement can
be made that all international organisations have as their subject of
legitimation the peoples organized in their member states.15 Power
exercised in the state and in the space above the state remains ulti-
mately accountable to these peoples. International law has not substi-
tuted humanity as a single subject of legitimation for the peoples,
although this may be the course of the future. At the universal level,
international organisations still essentially dispose of general powers to
bind member states. As a result, institutionalism in international

12
 For an “epistemological” account see J.-M. Coicaud/V. Heiskanen (eds.), The
Legitimacy of Inter­national Organizations (2001).
13
Usually but not necessarily the foundational document is a multilateral interna-
tional treaty, cf. N. White, The law of international organizations, at 1 (2nd ed., 2005);
J. Klabbers, An Introduction to International Institutional Law, at 9 (2nd ed., 2009).
14
White (note 13), at 1; see J. Klabbers, Two Concepts of International Organization,
2 International Organizations Law Review (2005), 277.
15
 For the EU see Bundesverfassungsgericht, Judgment of 30.6.2009, BVerfGE 123,
267, available at <http://www.bverfg.de/entscheidungen/es200090630 2bve000208en.
html>.
 legitimacy of un member states1511

organisations has to ensure that as many states as possible are included

in the relevant policy and law-making and through them the peoples
that the states in turn represent. Representation of states in this sense
has at least two elements: Membership of all states in the decision-
making organs and unanimity as the default voting procedure.16 The
concern here is with improving the inclusiveness of the institutions and
through the working methods of existing institutions.17 Admittedly,
full realization of the principle of inclusiveness will run into difficulties
when it comes to effectiveness. Member states will in fact have different
degrees of interest and capability in any given matter, as a matter of
prefer­ences expressed in each state, and that must in turn be reflected.
The general institutional response is the creation of limited member-
ship organs or near groups that allow for decision-making by a smaller
number of states. This is not per se illegitimate. Rather it throws into
clear relief that the task is to ensure the right balance between plenary
and limited membership organs. Limited membership organs are a fea-
ture of almost all international organisations. It is a matter for the con-
stitutional law of each organization to allocate over all responsibilities
to these organs and to ensure that they exercise these functions in a
legitimate fashion.18 Another challenge to inclusiveness results from
procedures that allow for substantial majority voting. Issues concern-
ing inclusion and thus representation of states in the inter­national law-
making process arise, first and foremost, as a consequence of the
institutionalisation of international relations.

16
 International organisations deviate from one or both elements in the interest of
effectiveness, and such deviation presents challenges for the representativeness of these
institutions. Organisations that provide for substantial majority voting profoundly
modify the basic principle of unanimous decision-making in the name of effectiveness.
The legitimating effect of each state being represented in the decision-making process
and consenting to the exercise of international power is thus considerably diluted. For
instance, in the case of the EU, given the wide use of Qualified Majority Voting in the
Council of Ministers where member states are represented, state consent alone will not
provide legitimacy to EU decisions. To close the resulting gap, a number of institu-
tional responses may be identified. In the case of the EU, the main response has been
the addition of the European Council to the decision-making process of the Union
which again operates on the basis of unanimity.
17
 Cf. A. Vermeule, Mechanisms of Democracy: Institutional Design Writ Small
(2007). Vermeule distinguishes institutionalism writ large and institutionalism writ
small, discussing the potential of the latter for furthering accountability and other
democratic values. Vermeule’s insights are formulated for a domestic law context but
are of relevance for the international context as well.
18
Wolfrum (note 7), at 919, 929, emphasizing that these arrangements may be spe-
cific to each organization and need not correspond to a rigid scheme of allocating
certain types of functions to certain organs.
1512 volker röben

There exists a normative correlation between the institutional legiti-

mation demands and the powers conferred on the international organ-
isation to which these demands are being addressed. The more closely
an international organisation’s powers resemble those traditionally
exercised by a nation state, the more the need arises to legitimize these
international powers democratically through institutionalism writ
large as opposed to mere state consent. The EU, on the one end of the
spectrum, and the UN, on the other, provide empirical illustration of
this correlation. Thus, the institutionalisation of a parliament repre-
senting the peoples, has gained relevance on the regional level of gov-
ernance epitomised by the European Union.19 Different from the EU
context, there have been no calls for direct institutionalised representa-
tion of the peoples in order to democratically legitimise the UN or any
other universal international organisation. This does not mean, how-
ever, that demands based on democratic values have been absent from
the debate about these universal organisations. Rather, they have con-
centrate on the working methods.

III. Member States

Perhaps more controversially, the international organisation’s member
states also need to enjoy legitimacy qua membership of the organisa-
tion. Indeed, member states legitimacy cannot be found to be lacking
either. Member states remain the masters of all international organisa-
tions;20 how could the organisation be legitimate, then, if its member
states are not? Member states therefore need to meet standards of legit-
imacy qua their belonging to the organisation.
What is required, then, in terms of member states input legitimacy?
An ideal world scenario has, of course, been depicted by Rawls.21 In

19
 A full account would have to include the parallel rise of a functional government
in the shape of the European Council. The European Council was not part of the origi-
nal institutional scheme of the treaties of Paris and Rome, yet it has become a key
player in the decision-making process of the Union. It is composed of the heads of state
or government of the member states (and the Commission president) and it requires
unanimity in its decision-making, counter-balancing the trend for (qualified) majority
voting in the Council of Ministers. The European Council assumes responsibility for
highly visible and strategic policy-making (Art 15 TEU). In response to the increased
political weight of the European Council, the European decision-making process has
become a dynamic circular process, combining elements of intergovernmental and
supranational decision-making.
20
Klabbers (note 13), passim; Wolfrum (note 7), at 926, for the International Seabed
Authority; Bundesverfassungsgericht (note 15), for the EU.
21
J. Rawls, The Law of Peoples, at 38 (1999).
 legitimacy of un member states1513

this well known account, international law is the law of peoples, and
peoples are those that are organised in states whose governments are
the “representative and effective agent” of the peoples. For the real
world, Rawls allows peoples to be represented by merely “decent
regimes”. This scenario nevertheless suggests that the international
order should comprise states that are more or less legitimate and that
the international system itself should be committed to trying to estab-
lish legitimate states for all peoples.22 Given the vastly diverging ideas
in the world not about statehood but about the way states should be
organised, the inherent difficulty of the Rawlsian conception is that it
remains open to the charge of parochialism, and also ineffectiveness.
To counter this charge, considerations of input legitimation for states
must be linked to less controversial and more universally shared views
about the desirability of statehood and the functions of statehood, chief
among which are internal peace and stability.
Importantly, the two levels of governance–the international organi-
sation and its member states–are reflexive in legitimation terms. Not
just in the sense that legitimation flows from the member states to the
organs of the organisation in which they are represented. But also in
the opposite direction in the sense that the organisation may formulate
demands and take action to improve or restore legitimacy in its mem-
ber states through international action. Again, it is output legitimacy of
the organisation, about which there is consensus among all member
states, that can provide legitimation for the organisation to become
actively supportive of nationally owned processes to bring about legiti-
mate states.23

B. Legitimate Institutions of UN Member States

The UN is of course the universal organization par excellence, and as

such it will be the real world testing stone for what has been said above.

22
Pettit (note 4), at 145.
23
This has long been accepted in the case of regional organisations formed by
democracies such as the EU and committed by treaty to democracy, which has
an explicit power to define and enforce standards of democratic legitimacy in its mem-
ber states. The Treaty on European Union (TEU) in its Art. 2 provides that the Union
is founded on the value of democracy. Art. 7 TEU provides for a competence of
the Union to enforce these values against member states found to be in breach of this
value.
1514 volker röben

I. Approaches and Rationales

The UN is committed to the values enshrined in Art. 1 UN Charter,
i.e to maintain international peace and security, develop friendly rela-
tions among nations based on respect for the principle of equal rights
and self-determination of peoples, and solve international problems of
an economic, social or cultural character; these are standards against
which the output legitimacy of the UN can be tested.24 Increasing nor-
mative demands for the system of governance of states results from
functional considerations. The vantage point from which the UN
increasingly approach the internal structures of a state is the impact
that these structures have on state internal stability, and, by ramifica-
tion, international stability.25 At least in principle, input legitimate
internal institutions and national as well as global stability are seen as
complementary not opposing concerns. Consequently, normative
demands are being formulated not in the abstract but rather from the
functional starting point. What does it take to ensure that a state is
stable and internally peaceful and that it can successfully mediate inter-
nal conflicts rather than becoming a pariah state or, less controversially,
a failed state?26 This concerns post-conflict situations in states emerg-
ing from civil war but is valid as well for preventing conflicts from aris-
ing. There is also growing understanding that representative
tions are essential to successful development of developing
institu­
states, and as such form the legitimate objective of strategic efforts of
the international community.27 As a result there is growing consensus

24
The organisation’s input legitimacy is more difficult to establish as it does not
make its own understanding explicit in the Charter. An important hint is contained,
however, in the sequence ‘based on respect for the principle of equal rights and self-
determination of peoples’.
25
 Global stability is an increasingly important topos featuring in UN Security
Council resolutions. There is no explicit textual basis in the Charter. The Council’s use
of the term serves mainly the purpose of demarcating the overarching objective of SC
and UN. Identified threats to global stability will justify and require concerted efforts
of a legislative and administrative nature by both states and the Security Council.
Terrorism and proliferation of weapons of mass destruction have been identified as
such global stability risks.
26
 See Joint Article on Libya: the pathway to peace, available at: http://www
.number10.gov.uk. The concept of a pariah state is of course contestable and contested.
It remains problematic whether international law countenances the designation of
a state as an outlaw state attaching consequences to the very designation. See
P. Minnerop, Paria-Staaten im Völkerrecht? (2005).
27
 According to the WDR 2011 (note 11), in the 21st century, international efforts
should be directed towards building government institutions in states which can medi-
ate political and communal conflicts. The report argues that capable, accountable, and
 legitimacy of un member states1515

that achieving state-internal stability requires representative institu-

tions within nationally owned constitutional set ups that ensure that, as
a minimum, rulers have the consent of the governed and that internal
and communal conflicts can be successfully and peacefully mediated.28
There is also no doubt that the internal structure of a state will deter-
mine its preferences and generally its course of action on the interna-
tional plane. Indeed, a certain internal structure may be the prerequisite
for fully participating in international commerce and for fully profiting
from it.29
Taken together, this is resulting in a paradigmatic shift in the con-
ceptualisation of member states’ legal competence for their domestic
constitutional structure. The traditional Charter interpretation has
been based on the understanding that a state is free to choose its system
of governance as well as its economic model. As an abstract and general
proposition, this remains probably correct today. However, this com-
petence is increasingly no longer seen as an unfettered right, but a
responsibility, which implies accountability to the international com-
munity for the fulfilment of external standards. Indeed, the Security
Council now generally confirms and underlines the primary responsi-
bility of each state for the attainment of internal peace and stability. But
it is not neutral as to the institutional choice to achieve these. Namely,
a state’ s opting for democracy will receive a positive assessment from

legitimate institutions are the common “missing factor” explaining why some societies
are more resilient to violence than others. Without attention to institutional transfor-
mation, countries would be susceptible to a vicious cycle of repeated violence. The
report acknowledges that there is not one single form or template for democracy, and
that in each case a culturally acceptable form must be found.
28
 As expressed in a number of recent general statements by the Security Council
through its Presidency: “The Security Council restates the previous Statements of its
President on post-conflict peacebuilding. The Council stresses the importance of insti-
tution building as a critical component of peacebuilding and emphasises the impor-
tance of a more effective and coherent national and international response to it, so that
countries emerging from conflict can deliver core government functions, including
managing political disputes peacefully, providing security and maintaining stability,
protecting their population, ensuring respect for the rule of law, revitalising the econ-
omy and providing basic services, which are essential to achieving durable peace.
The Council emphasizes the importance of national ownership in this regard.” (S/
PRST/2011/2 of 21 January 2011, para. 1); “The Security Council underlines that secu-
rity and development are closely interlinked and key to attaining sustainable peace. …
The Security Council reiterates that, in order to support a country emerge substainably
from conflict, there is a need for a comprehensive an integrated approach that incorpo-
rates and strengthens coherence between political, security, development, human
rights and rule of law activities (S/PRST/2011/4 of 9 February 2011, paras. 3–4).
29
 See D. Patterson/A. Arifali, Statecraft, Trade and Strategy: Toward a New Global
Order, in: A. Halpin/V. Röben (eds.), Theorising the Global Legal Order, 125 (2009).
1516 volker röben

the Council, an expression of support, and even the indication of posi-

tive measures that the Council and the UN member states should take
in support of national efforts. Democratic institutions based on elec-
tions thus mark one end of the spectrum, which starts, at the other end,
with minimum standards for collective decision-making, institution-
building and representation of traditionally underrepresented groups
such a women and minorities.30

II. General UN Standards for Legitimate Institutions

The responsibility of states for their domestic order may be taken as the
most significant source of legal standards for legitimate institutions.
Such accountability arises from self-determination of peoples and the
Responsibility to Protect.

1. Self-determination of Peoples
The historically first normative standard applicable to the domestic
law of the UN member states is the principle of self-determination.
Art. 1 UN Charter makes clear that statehood and self-determination
of the constitutive people are separate concepts, in other words that
a state ought to be the institutional expression of the political self-
determination of a people. The UN–through its political and judicial
organs–has been engaged in a process31 of successive concretization
and legal hardening of what was originally an objective of the organisa-
tion into a principle of objective law, the subjective right of a people, a
norm displaying the rare erga omnes character,32 and finally a norm
owning the status of ius cogens33. This has been the instrument for the

30
These standards protect individuals and groups that have traditionally been
disenfranchised or been underrepresented. Thus, there are numerous standards to
ensure the representation of women as a matter of internal peace. See S Res. 1980/2011
of 28 April 2011, preamb para. 5.
31
 See A. Cassese, Self-determination of Peoples, at 37 (1995); J. Crawford, The
Right to Self-Determination in International Law: Its Development and Future, in:
P. Alston (ed.), People’s Rights, 7 (2001); C. Tomuschat, Self-determination in a post-
colonial world, in: id (ed.), Modern law of self-determination, 1 (1993).
32
 International Court of Justice, Namibia, ICJ Reports 1971, 31, para. 52; Western
Sahara, ICJ Reports 1975, 31–33; East Timor (Portugal v. Australia), ICJ Reports 1995,
102, para. 29; Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied
Palestinian Territory, ICJ Reports 2004, 171, para. 88.
33
 ILC Articles on State Responsibility, Commentary, Art. 26, para. 6 (A/56/10); UN
Human Rights Commission Resolutions 1997/4, 1998/4, 2003/3; see A. Orakhelashvili,
Peremptory Norms in International Law, at 51 (2008).
 legitimacy of un member states1517

transformation of colonial and racist regimes as well as military occu-

pation,34 into what must be called more representative governance
structures. Self-determination would also be the underlying legitimat-
ing factor for any state emerging as the result of the exercise of the right
of self-determination. In recent instances of a people acquiring self-
determination in the colonization context, in which the UN has taken
an active role, the UN’s efforts have consistently been designed to
establish democratic governance structures.35
Scope and reach of self-determination have been much less clear
beyond the colonial context discussed. This reluctance may fundamen-
tally be due to the fact that self-determination outside of the colonial
context is associated with secession of a “people” from an existing non-
colonial state, which calls into question the equally fundamental prin-
ciple of territorial integrity of UN member states.36 It remains open to
question which relevance self-determination may acquire in non-
colonial context. This would mainly concern the position of minority
groups within an existing state. An argument can be made that such
groups will also be the bearer of the right to self-determination, pro-
vided they attain a certain degree of cohesion and display a certain
distinct collective identity.37 This will mostly but not necessarily be the
case for groups that have been politically organised in a geographi­
cally discreet fashion38 in the existing state in one form or another.39
Arguably, the bearer of the right to self-determination itself is subject
to negotiation.40 What seems accepted in practice is that the proper
representation of any distinct group within a state’s governance

34
 GA Res. 1514(XV) of 14 December 1960 ‘Granting of Independence to Colonial
Countries and Peoples’.
35
 See M. Benzing, Midwifing a New State: The United Nations in East Timor, in:
9 Max Planck Yearbook of United Nations Law 295 (2009).
36
 On the construction of the relation between self-determination and territorial
integrity see V. Röben, The ICJ Advisory Opinion on the Unilateral Declaration of
Independence in Respect of Kosovo: Rules or Principles?, 2 Göttingen Journal of
International Law, 1063 (2011).
37
 G. Dahm/J. Delbrück/R. Wolfrum, Völkerrecht, volume I/1, at 285 (2nd ed.,
2002); I. Brownlie, Principles of Public International Law, at 580 (7th ed., 2008).
38
 Cf. Permanent Court of International Justice, Government of Sudan and Sudan
People’s Liberation Movement/Army (Abyei Arbitration), Award, 22.7.2009, 232,
para. 665, available at: www.pca-cpa.org/upload/files/Abyei Final Award.pdf.
39
 See C. Pippan, Die Herausforderung der ‘Kosovo-Frage’ für die Europäische
Union vor dem Hintergrund des Statusprozesses, in: G. Nolte/N. Hilpold (eds.),
Auslandsinvestitionen, at 235 (2008).
40
Northern Ireland is a case in point. Cf. Art. 2(1) Agreement Reached in the Multi-
Party Negotiations (Good Friday Agreement), 10.4.1998, available <www.nio.gov.uk/
agreement.pdf>.
1518 volker röben

institutions will realise that group’s “internal” self-determination,41

which will foreclose the group’s rights to “external” self-determination
through secession. And there is rich practice of the Security Council
operationalising the peaceful exercise of any internal and external self-
determination claims through a set of standards for the domestic struc-
tures of existing and the emerging states.42
In its by now famous Kosovo Opinion of 22 July 2010, the International
Court of Justice concluded that the declaration of independence in
respect of Kosovo in its precise historical circumstances “did not vio-
late any applicable rule of international law”.43 According to the Court,
self-determination had not matured into a right for a people to found a
state outside of the colonial context. But neither were there any pro-
hibitive rules of international law stopping a people from seceding.
From the point of view of international law, secession remains a politi-
cal fact that may result in the emergence or not of a new state. Whether
secession is permissible or not is thus not a matter of international but
of constitutional law. Regrettably, the rather rigid position formulated
by the Court in the Kosovo Opinion does not reflect the much more
nuanced position on self determination taken by international law on
the way that a people exercises its right to self-determination through
secession. It may merely tolerate it or actually approve of it if it is done
in accordance with standards of democratic legitimacy.44 Moreover,
pursuant to its powers under Chapter VII, the Security Council will, if
at all necessary, actively internationalise negotiated processes of seces-
sion, and in doing so will impose r­epresentative institutions for the

41
 Cf. GA Res. 61/295 ‘Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples’.
42
 Comprehensive discussion of Security Council practice by Urs Saxer, Die interna-
tionale Steuerung der Selbstbestimmung und der Staatsentstehung ( 2010), who argues
that the common Arts. 1 of the UN Human Rights Convenants have become the
“umbrella” for a series of standards for the institutional set up of member states.
43
Accordance with International Law of the Unilateral Declaration of Independence
in Respect of Kosovo (Request for Advisory Opinion), Advisory Opinion of 22 July 2010
[Kosovo-Opinion], available at: http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/141/15987.pdf.
44
 Cf. the position expressed by the Security Council on the secession of Southern
Sudan from Sudan. The Presidential Statement reads as follows: “The Security Council
welcomes the 7 February announcement by the Southern Sudan Referendum
Commission of the final results of the referendum on self-determination for the people
of Southern Sudan, which showed that 98.83 percent of the voters chose independence.
The Council calls on the international community to lend its support to all Sudanese
people as they build as peaceful and prosperous future” (S/PRST/2011/3).
 legitimacy of un member states1519

seceding entity including adequate representation for any minority

groups.45

2. Responsibility to Protect
a) The Rationale
Self-determination thus provides a rationale for standard-setting
on legitimate institutions of UN member states. A third general ration-
ale for such standard setting has recently been emerging in the shape
of the “Responsibility to Protect”.46 Responsibility to Protect was
originally a response to the shortcomings of the international commu-
nity in certain crises of the 1990s namely the Balkans and Rwanda,
where civilian populations became large scale victims of atrocities.
Positive action to protect their civilian population from violence origi-
nating from other private parties, from organised groups, and, of
course, from their own military and police forces are thus not just a
right, but a responsibility. Every state is accountable to the interna-
tional community for the discharge of this responsibility, as assessed
against external (international) standards. Responsibility to Protect is
universal, as a concept it applies to all UN member states and provides
a template for assessing their action and for determining the interna-
tional response to the assessment. A regime that resorts to force against
its own people demonstrates by that very fact that is not born by the
consent of the ruled. Protection of civilians from government use of
force is thus a proxy for its overall legitimacy. Responsibility to Protect
thereby marks a watershed in the standards for internal legitimacy, the
ability to assess it, and the right of the international community to act
correspondingly.
Standards and means for fulfilling the stability responsibility thus
incumbent of UN member states are being developed namely by the
Security Council. Through its practice primarily the principle is hard-
ening from a vague political principle into a norm that pervades the
interpretation of the UN Charter, and namely its Chapter VII. In terms

45
 See R. Wolfrum, Kosovo: Some Thoughts on its Future Status, in: S. Yee/
J.-Y. Morin (eds.), Multiculturalism and International Law, 561 (2009).
46
There is a burgeoning literature. See Laurence de Boisson de Chazournes,
Responsibility to Protect: Reflecting Solidarity?, in: Wolfrum/Kojima (note 2), 93.
1520 volker röben

of the standards that states have to meet, there is a powerful trend to

moving from requiring states merely not to commit large scale violence
towards the need to secure internal peace and stability as opposed to
becoming a failed state through a constitutional set up that is based on
representative institutions.

b) Practice
Responsibility to Protect is first and foremost a means for the interna-
tional community to assess state-internal processes. But the UN is not
free either in the assessment and the consequences attached. Rather it
is accountable itself to the international community, in particular to
whether it will take collective enforcement action against the respective
state. This shift in the responsibility to protect from the state to the UN
is implicated in the qualifier that the state bears the “primary” but not
exclusive responsibility. If it fails the test by using force against its own
people, then it is presumed to have lost the consent of the governed.
Action by the organized international community on the basis of
Chapter VII can be taken to directly protect civilians and indirectly put
pressure on the incriminated government. A government that mani-
festly fails the Responsibility to protect test is presumed to have lost the
consent of the governed and will eventually have to step aside.
This template is now being established by the Security Council
through its very recent action regarding Ivory Coast and Lybia.47 It
invokes Responsibility to Protect to mark the standard that a particular
government’s legitimacy can be assessed against. In these instances,
acting under Chapter VII, the Security Council has expressly based
itself on the respective state’s Responsibility to Protect, turning the
principle into a generalized interpretation of the threshold criterion
“threat to international peace and security” that Art. 39 UN Charter
establishes as a threshold for any Security Council action under
Chapter VII.48 Libya marks the instance where the need to design of a

47
 For previous international enforcement of demands on states with respect of their
domestic institutions see N. Petersen, Demokratie als teleologisches Prinzip (2009).
For the standards secured through international administration in post-conflict situa-
tions see R. Wolfrum, International Administration in Post-Conflict Situations by the
United Nations and Other International Actors, 9 Max Planck Yearbook of United
Nations Law, 649 (2005).
48
 It is true that the Council had acted in essentially internal situations before,
Somalia is the clearest case in point. But R2P now provides a general rationale for
 legitimacy of un member states1521

new constitutional order arises as the result of the utter failure of the
existing regime to secure basic consent of its people, evidenced by the
large scale use of force by the regime contra to its protective responsi-
bility. The Ivorian intervention further pushes the boundaries of pos-
sible UN Security Council support for democratic elections in a
member state, namely through the direct authorisation of peacekeep-
ers and the binding requests addressed to the defeated incumbent to
accept the outcome of the presidential election as a result of the latter’s
failure to fulfil his protective responsibilities.49

c) Enforcement Action and its Legitimacy

By virtue of Art. 24, the UN Charter entrusts the Security Council with
the primary responsibility for the maintenance of international peace
and security and, for that purpose, the Security Council under Chapter
VII and Art. 25 UN Charter enjoys exclusive powers to take decisions
that are legally binding on all member states of the organisation.50
Intervention of the UN Security Council in the domestic affairs of
its member states in particular on that legal basis requires, how­
ever, heightened legitimacy. As a limited membership body, the
Council’s composition reflects overriding considerations of effective

such SC action in internal situations. The Council is thus interpreting the threshold
criterion of “international peace and security” in Art. 39 in a general fashion, akin to
an exercise of legislative power. Such legislation on the level of the primary UN Charter
law has been done before, see M. Wood, The UN Security Council and International
law (2006).
49
The International Court of Justice in the Kosovo Opinion has acknowledged that
the Security Council may also impose obligations on non-state actors (note 43). This
turns on the intent of the Security Council and the determinacy of the class of address-
ees (para. 117). This power of the Council currently is only used functionally not gen-
erally, ie with respect to classes of individuals that are set apart through their functional
importance for global stability. It raises, nevertheless, the issue of the inclusion of these
additional addressees in the Security Council decision making process.
50
 In it is more recent practice, the Security Council has additionally assumed
(quasi-)legislative powers in areas as diverse as anti-terrorism and non-proliferation,
in addition to its established power to decide on repelling concrete threats to interna-
tional peace and security. See R. Wolfrum, Der Kampf gegen eine Verbreitung von
Massenvernichtungswaffen. Eine neue Rolle für den Sicherheitsrat, in: K. Dicke/
S. Hobe/K. Meyers/A. Peters/E. Riedel/H. Schütz/C. Tietje (eds.), Liber amicorum
Delbrück, 865 (2005); G. Abi-Saab, The Security Council as Legislator and Executive in
its Fight Against Terrorism and Against Proliferation of Weapons of Mass Destruction:
The Question of Legitimacy, in: R. Wolfrum/V. Röben (note 3), 109.
1522 volker röben

decision-making to the detriment of inclusive legitimacy.51 As was dis-

cussed above, an international organisation’s action will be the more
legitimate in terms of input the more representative of the overall
membership of the organisation it is. There is, however, a tradeoff with
effectiveness that may require action by a smaller group of member
states. The UN Security Council poses this dilemma squarely, being, of
course, the most important case of only a selected group of states being
represented on a powerful international body. It is a limited member-
ship organ par excellence, with the P5 forming an inner circle of the
select 15. The P5 themselves are not representative of the UN member-
ship at large, and institutionalized representation of the membership as
a whole can be secured only through the election of the other 10 mem-
ber states that serve a non-renewable 2 year term. As it is the case for
all UN organs, these non-permanent seats are allocated on the basis of
the five regional groupings of UN member states. While this ensures
that all the regions of the UN will have at least one representative at the
Security Council table at any time, the issue of representation (inclu-
sion) remains whether membership, either permanent or temporary, of
the Security Council itself should be expanded beyond the current for-
mula. The main argument for such an expansion is that the current
membership formula reflects the power realities of the immediate
post-war period but not that of the 21st century, and that it does not
reflect current post decolonization membership of the UN as a whole.
Considerations relate to the effectiveness of the Security Council and
its legitimacy or lack thereof due to a perceived lack of equitable geo-
graphical representation of States capable of shoul­dering the burdens
of Security Council membership. These consider­a­tions overlap. As it is
well known, the High Level Panel on Risks and Challenges, entrusted
with reflecting on UN reform-needs for the 21st century, suggested
institutional reforms that were meant to broaden the Council’s mem-
bership in an effort to make it more inclusive and thereby strengthen
both its effectiveness and its legitimacy,52 but the heads of state and
government of the UN member states demurred in 2005.

51
 See J. Katz Cogan, Representation and Power in Intenational Organisations: The
Operational Constitution and its Critics, 103 American Journal of International Law,
203 (2009).
52
 A more secure world: our shared responsibility, available at <http://www.un.org/
secureworld>.
 legitimacy of un member states1523

That does not mean, however, that the drafters of the UN Charter
were unaware of the need for legitimacy through inclusion. The main
procedures mechanism employed by the Charter for broadening the
inclusive reach of UN Security Council decision-making in matters of
threats to the peace or international security pursuant to Chapter VII is
the involvement of the regional security system concerned. This is the
main purpose of Chapter VIII of the Charter. Chapter VIII provides for
regional systems of collective security that are modelled on the univer-
sal collective security system. It also makes extensive provision for the
relationship between the universal collective security system and the
regional systems. The underlying idea may be captured as subsidiarity,
to borrow (more recent) terminology from EU law. Art. 52–53 UN
Charter provide that crises shall be dealt with at the regional level
whenever and to the extent possible. Art. 52 (2) UN Charter explicitly
provides that Member States of the UN shall make “every effort to
achieve pacific settlement of local disputes through such regional
arrangements or by such regional agencies before referring them to the
Security Council”. Correspondingly, Art. 52(3) UN Charter obliges the
Security Council to “encourage the development of pacific settlement
of local disputes through such regional arrangements of by such
regional agencies either on the initiative of the states concerned or by
reference from the Security Council”. Reference of a situation by a
regional arrangement to the Security Council will provide any further
decisions by the UN Security Council with respect to the situation with
heightened legitimacy. Art. 53 UN Charter even envisages that the
competent regional organisation may carry out enforcement action–
including forcible measures within the meaning of Art. 42 UNCharter–
upon authorisation by the UN Security Council. In its recent past, the
Security Council has explicitly mentioned the referral of the situation
in Libya by the Arab League.53 And in the case of Ivory Coast, the
Council has referenced the request of the African Union for respect of
its fundamental norms.54 There are also mechanisms of institutional-
ism writ small concerning the working methods of the Council that

53
 S Res. 1973 of 17 March 2011, at preamb para. 12.
54
 Cf. D. Barthel, Die neue Sicherheits- und Verteidigungsarchitektur der
Afrikanischen Union (2011).
1524 volker röben

may at least partially help address the inclusion matter.55 The Security
Council is striving to modify its procedure in this respect,56 and it has
has taken practical steps to involve UN member states not currently
represented on the Council in its crisis management on an ad hoc basis,
if and to the extent that such states are ready to take on an increased
responsibility for the management of a given international crises and
display specific capabilities.
Highest legitimacy accrues to the body or organ of the organization
in which all member states are represented. The UN General Assembly
remains the more legitimate principal organ of the UN since it is fully
representative of the membership of the UN. There is thus a chasm
between standard setting powers and legitimacy. But it is precisely this
reservoir of legitimacy that underpins and drives UN General Assembly
action in the area of international peace and security, notwithstanding
the primary responsibility of the security council. Normatively, this
would militate to strengthening the General Assembly in all matters
including the maintenance of peace and security. This is partially the
case, namely through peacekeeping, the peace building commission,
and the involvement of the Human Rights Council. A very important
precedent has been set, in this respect, by the UN Human Rights
Council. As a subsidiary organ of the UN General Assembly, the
Human Rights Council partakes in the legitimacy of the universal
membership body. Importantly, membership in this body is not auto-
matic but it depends on the States human rights record. And on that
basis, it has been supporting and complementing Security Council
intervention in the Ivory Coast and in Libya57.

55
 See ‘2005 World Summit Outcome’ resolving on the Security Council: “We rec-
ommend that the Security Council continue to adapt its working methods so as to
increase the involvement of States not represented on the Council in its work, as appro-
priate, enhance its accountability to the membership and increase the transparency of
its work”. GA Res. 60/1 of 24 October 2005, at para. 154.
56
 For instance through the so-called open sessions that the Council increasingly
holds.
57
 S Res. 1970/2011 of 26 February 2011, at premab para. 5: “Welcoming the Human
Rights Council resolution A/HRC/RES/S-15/1 of 25 February 2011, including the
decision to urgently dispatch an independent international commission of inquiry to
investigate all alleged violations of international human rights law in the Libyan Arab
Jamahiriya, to establish the facts and circumstances of such violations and of the crimes
perpetrated, and where possible identify those responsible.”
 legitimacy of un member states1525

D. Conclusions

States that join international organisations become by that fact subject

to the legitimacy demands addressing their domestic institutional
structure. This is also and particularly true for the UN, the world’s uni-
versal organisation. The standards that the UN has recently been for-
mulating for the institutional set up of its member states apply across
its membership, and, in the last instance, they are enforceable by the
Security Council operating in conjunction with regional organisa­
tions and–through the UN Human Rights Council–the UN General
Assembly. Corresponding to a functional interpretation of legitimacy,
Responsibility to Protect and perhaps a responsibility to secure inter-
nal peace and stability are emerging as the standards against which
states’ institutions can be tested. A state or government failing to fulfil
its primary responsibility by using force will be deemed to have lost the
consent of the governed and thereby open itself up to collective enforce-
ment action by the UN Security Council.
 Too “Smart” For Legal Protection? UN Security
Council’s Targeted Sanctions And A Pladoyer For
Another UN Tribunal

Torsten Stein

A. Introduction

Until 1999 sanctions imposed by the UN Security Council were exclu-

sively directed against States; individuals were affected, if at all, only
indirectly, one might say as “collateral damage”. Those sanctions, in the
majority of specific or more general economic embargos, mostly had
little impact on the behaviour of the State concerned. A popular defini-
tion of the consequences of those embargos was “[i]t takes a little
longer and costs a bit more”, but almost all exports and imports in the
end arrived where they were expected to arrive. Possible legal concerns
under public international law were related to whether the precondi-
tions of using Chapter VII of the UN Charter were fulfilled, or to how
wide the discretion of the UN Security Council could be, even if there
was no international conflict or danger to peace and international
security. Human rights were no topic in that respect.
But ever since—beginning with Resolution 12671—such sanctions
have been directly aimed at individuals or associations within the
framework of combating terrorism and its supporters (so-called
“smart” or “targeted sanctions”). The question came to the forefront
whether such sanctions do have to consider the human rights of the
“targets”, whether those concerned have access to full and independent
judicial review and, more general, whether the UN Security Council or
those who have to implement its resolutions are bound to respect and
protect human rights.
The European Courts, after some hesitation, have given an answer
to these questions for themselves, but the UN Human Rights
Committee has also done so for the UN system, i.e. the Covenant on
Civil and Political Rights. Before having a look at these decisions,

1
SC Res. 1267 of 15 October 1999 in response to the attacks on the US Embassies in
Nairobi and Dar Es Salaam.
1528 torsten stein

the more general question will be addressed whether the UN Security

Council, in the light of its obligation and task to maintain international
peace and security, has to consider (other) international law and in
particular human rights which are nowadays guaranteed almost identi-
cally on the universal, regional and national levels.

B. The UN Security Council And

International Human Rights

The debate is old but still unresolved whether the Security Council of
the United Nations is bound to respect international law–and which–
and whether the Security Council’s decisions are subject to judicial
review–and by which courts.2 There is agreement, however, that the
Security Council cannot be challenged as a Party before the International
Court of Justice (ICJ), nor before a national or regional court, due to
the immunity the United Nations enjoys, like all other international
organizations, before such courts.
There seems to be agreement, also, that decisions of the Security
Council may be reviewed incidentally in other proceedings before–at
least–international courts. The Lockerbie Case3 before the ICJ might
have provided an opportunity, had it not been solved “diplomatically”
outside the Court. But in other instances the ICJ as well as the Inter­
national Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia did address the
legality of Security Council decisions, however finding no illegality.4
If one accepts that the Security Council is bound by international
law, the question remains by which. Is it only jus cogens, as the (then)
Court of First Instance of the European Communities seemed to say in
its decisions in Yusuf5 and Kadi?6 That military forces under the com-
mand of the United Nations are bound by the Geneva Conventions and
Additional Protocols has been confirmed by a Bulletin of the Secretary
General of the United Nations,7 although the United Nations is not a
Party to these Conventions.

2
T. Stein/C. v. Buttlar, Völkerrecht, at 322–323 (12th ed. 2009).
3
 ICJ Reports 1992, 114.
4
Cf. the Advisory Opinion of the ICJ in the Namibia Case (ICJ Reports 1971, 15)
and the decisions of the Appeals Chamber of the ICTY in Tadic (case No. IT-94-
1-AR72, 35 ILM 32 (1996)).
5
Case T-306/01, 2005 ECR II-3353.
6
Case T-315/01, 2005 ECR II-3649.
7
“Observance by United Nations Forces of international humanitarian law”,
6 August 1999, 38 ILM 1659 (1999).
 too “smart” for legal protection?1529

There are voices who argue that the Security Council is indeed
bound to respect human rights, once it has taken decisions like those
for “targeted sanctions” which inevitably and on purpose infringe
those rights.8 The line of argument is as follows: Art. 24 (2) of the
United Nations Charter provides that the Security Council, in dis-
charging its duties, shall act in accordance with the purposes and prin-
ciples of the United Nations. The purposes relevant here are contained
in Art. 1 of the Charter: “maintain international peace and security”,
Art. 1 (1); “promote and encourage respect for human rights and for
fundamental freedoms”, (Art. 1 (2). The remaining question is whether
there is a hierarchy between those two purposes. According to Art. 24
(1), the Member States of the United Nations confer on the Security
Council “primary responsibility” for the maintenance of international
peace and security. One might argue that everything else is subordi-
nated to this “primary task”, and that the Security Council, when acting
under Chapter VII of the Charter, may disregard other purposes,
should they stand in the way of its fulfilling the “primary responsibil-
ity”.9 But the argument10 goes on to say: there are also the “principles”
in Art. 2 of the Charter, for the organization (the UN) and its members,
and Art. 2 (2) requires states to fulfill obligations “in good faith”, which–
read together with Art. 1 (3)–would stop the Security Council from
violating the organization’s purpose to promote respect for human
rights.
The argument is a bit weak in the sense that it overlooks that Art. 2
of the Charter clearly distinguishes between principles for the organi-
zation and those for its members; and Art. 2 (2) is for members. But the
underlying idea is correct: The United Nations stood at the cradle of all
international human rights instruments, the Universal Declaration of
1948 and the Covenants on Civil and Political and on Economic, Social
and Cultural Rights of 1966, let alone a number of other Covenants on
more specific rights. Although the United Nations is not a party to
these instruments, they were adopted under its auspices and the organ-
ization has installed bodies to supervise the implementation of at least
the 1966 Covenants.11 And if the Covenants are at stake, it might not be

8
Cf. E. de Wet/A. Nollkaemper, Review of the Security Council Decisions by
National Courts, 45 German Yearbook of International Law, 171 et seq. (2002).
9
Cf. E. Klein, Paralleles Tätigwerden von Sicherheitsrat und Internationalem
Gerichtshof bei friedensbedrohenden Streitigkeiten, Festschrift für Hermann Mosler,
467–491 (1983).
10
See note 8 above.
1530 torsten stein

that easy to argue on the basis of Art. 103 of the UN Charter alone, say-
ing that in the event of a conflict the obligations under the UN Charter,
in particular those derived from Articles 25 and 48, shall prevail. The
Covenants are not just “any other agreement” in the sense of Art. 103.
They have their basis in Articles 55 c and 56 of the Charter and, there-
fore, share in a certain way the Charter’s higher rank.12

C. The Covenant on Civil and Political Rights

The question came to the forefront in the Decision of the Human

Rights Committee in the Sayadi case,13 the facts, summarized, being
the following: Sayadi, a Belgian born in Lebanon, and his Belgian wife
are the local managers of a foundation which was seen as the European
branch of an American association (Global Relief Foundation) which
in 2002 had been put on the sanctions list under UN Security Council
Resolution 1267 (1999).14 In 2003, after the initiation of criminal pro-
ceedings against the Sayadis in Belgium, their names were put on the
UN sanctions list and also on the list annexed to the European
Community Regulation which implemented the Security Council
Resolutions in the European Union.15 In consequence their financial
assets were frozen, and they were banned from travelling internation-
ally, without being given the reasons for and the relevant information
concerning their listing. The Sayadis submitted several requests to
Belgian, European and UN authorities, without success. In 2005 they
obtained an order from the Brussels Court of First Instance requiring

11
These bodies have their own problems with sanctions of the Security Council, as
we will see in the decision of the Human Rights Committee in the Sayadi case (CCPR/
C/94/D/1472/2006), 29 December 2008.
12
 In Shearer’s dissenting opinion to the Human Rights Committee’s decision in
Sayadi (ibid., at 32), the Committee is said to regard the Covenant as on a par with the
UN Charter, and not as subordinate to it. See also I. Couzigou, Le Conseil de Sécurité
doit-il resprecter les droits de l’homme dans son action coercitive de maintien de la
paix? 20 Revue québécoise de droit international, 107 et seq. (2007).
13
Note 11.
14
This Resolution was extended and amended annually; cf. in particular Res. 1333
(2000), 1390 (2002) and the last one so far, 1904 (2009). It created the UN Sanctions
Committee, composed of representatives of all Security Council Members, one of
whose tasks is to update regularly the list of those individuals or entities against whom
“targeted sanctions” are applied.
15
Commission Regulation (EC) 145/2003, amending Council Regulation (EC)
881/2002, O. J. 2002, L 139/9, 29 May 2002.
 too “smart” for legal protection?1531

the Belgian State to initiate the procedure to have their names removed
from the Sanctions Committee’s list. Later in the same year the crimi-
nal proceedings against them were dismissed. Although also under
Belgian law Belgian nationals have no strict right to diplomatic protec-
tion, the Belgian Government did not appeal the decision of the
Brussels court, but did initiate the de-listing procedure. The Sanctions
Committee, however, refused to de-list the Sayadis, who then applied
to the UN Human Rights Committee established under Art. 28 of the
International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights.
In its not uncontroversial decision, the Committee found a violation
of Articles 12 (Freedom of movement) and Art. 17 (Right to Privacy) of
the Covenant, asking Belgium to report within six months on the
measures taken to give effect to the Committee’s “Views”. The details of
that decision regarding the merits are not of interest here, but interest-
ing is the fact that the Committee obviously saw no absolute priority or
primacy of Security Council decisions under Chapter VII of the UN
Charter, but rather circumvented the problem by holding Belgium
responsible for proposing a listing prematurely, i.e. before the Belgian
Court had decided about the criminal charges. Those Members of the
Committee who filed dissenting opinions, as well as an early commen-
tator,16 complained that the Committee had not addressed Art. 103 of
the UN Charter at all and had wrongly dealt with Art. 46 of the
Covenant, which provides that “[n]othing in the present Covenant
shall be interpreted as impairing the provisions of the Charter of the
United Nations and of the constitutions of the Specialized Agencies
which defines the respective responsibilities of the various organs of
the United Nations and of the Specialized Agencies in regard to matters
dealt with in the present Covenant”. The Committee had addressed
Art. 46, but considered that “there is nothing in this case that involves
interpreting a provision of the Covenant as impairing the provisions of
the Charter of the United Nations. The case concerns the compatibility
with the Covenant of national measures taken by the state party in
implementation of a Security Council resolution”.17 Consequently, the
Committee found that Art. 46 was not relevant in that case.
Art. 46 of the Covenant may be irrelevant for quite a different rea-
son, because it is anything but clear that this provision is only echoing

16
See M. Milanovic, Sayadi: The Human Rights Committee’s Kadi, http://ejiltalk
.org., filed under: EJIL Analysis, EJIL Reports.
17
Para. 10.3 of the decision.
1532 torsten stein

Art. 103 of the UN Charter. Art. 46 speaks of the “respective responsi-

bilities of the various organs of the United Nations.… in regard to the
matters dealt with in the present Covenant”. It is more than unlikely that
Art. 46 was intended to give the Security Council carte blanche com-
pletely to disregard the Covenant or human rights in general. Art. 46
merely states that the functions of the UN organs entrusted with civil
and political rights (in particular the General Assembly, ECOSOC, the
Human Rights Council,18 the Commission on the Status of Women and
the Commission on Crime Prevention and Criminal Justice) and the
relevant organs of the specialized agencies (in particular ILO and
UNESCO) were not impaired by the entry into force of the Covenant.19
The fact that the Committee had not taken up Belgium’s argument
according to which the Covenant was inapplicable by virtue of Art. 103
of the UN Charter may be astonishing,20 but the message it was intended
to send out is rather obvious: first, in its (majority) opinion, the UN
Security Council is not free to act in complete disregard of internation-
ally guaranteed human rights. Second, UN member states are called
upon to consider possible human rights violations when implementing
Security Council sanctions. And, third, member States should be more
careful before proposing individuals to be put on a sanctions list,
because afterwards they will not always get away with putting the blame
on the Security Council and hiding behind Art. 103 of the UN Charter.
It is certainly true that the Committee can only issue non-binding
views (or general comments), and that Belgium, between the choice to
lift the sanctions against the Sayadis and thus disobey the Security
Council and the EC Regulation, or not to answer the Committee’s
request to report within six months on its decision, would choose the
second alternative. But it was high time that somebody raised his voice
against the current regime of “targeted sanctions” with all its pitfalls.
Other voices were raised in Europe, based on specific European Human
Rights.

D. European Human Rights

European human rights are those guaranteed by the 1950 Convention

on Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms of the Council of

18
Until 2006 the “Human Rights Commission”.
19
Cf. M. Nowak, U.N. Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, Art. 46, at 626–627
(1993).
20
See Milanovic, note 15.
 too “smart” for legal protection?1533

Europe, as interpreted and applied by the European Court of Human

Rights; the human rights developed by the Court of Justice of the
European Union (EU) as “general principles of Community Law”,
based upon the 1950 Convention and the constitutional traditions
common to the EU member States; and–since the Treaty of Lisbon–the
rights contained in the Charter of Fundamental Rights of the European
Union (Art. 6 EU Treaty). While the European Court of Human Rights
in the Behrami case21 dismissed the application because the challenged
acts had to be attributed to the UN and not to the respondent member
states or NATO, and whilst the House of Lords in Al-Jedda22 found that
a sanctions resolution of the UN Security Council prevailed over the
1950 Convention (and thus over the UK Human Rights Act which cop-
ied the Convention),23 things developed differently in the European
Union, inter alia in the now famous Kadi case.
Mainly on the same legal bases which carried the sanctions imposed
in the Sayadi case, Kadi’s funds and financial assets were also frozen,
and in December 2001 Kadi instituted proceedings against that meas-
ure before the (then) Court of First Instance of the European Union
(CFI). The CFI rejected all Kadi’s claims, ruling that it had no jurisdic-
tion to review the validity of the contested EC Regulation and, indi-
rectly, the validity of the relevant Resolution of the UN Security
Council, unless those resolutions violated jus cogens norms, which the
CFI did not find to be so in that case.24
Kadi appealed the decision to the Court of Justice of the European
Union (ECJ) in November 2005, and in September 2008 the ECJ
quashed the CFI’s decision,25 disagreeing with the CFI’s finding on
lack of jurisdiction. The following quotations from the ECJ’s judgment
may highlight its position: “[i]t is not a consequence of the principles
governing the international legal order under the United Nations that
any judicial review of the internal lawfulness of the contested [EC]

21
Decision of 2 May 2007, Application No. 71412/01 (together with Application
78166/01-Saramati)
22
[2007], UKHL 58.
23
 It is doubtful whether, e.g. the German Federal Constitutional Court would have
decided in the same way, had it to control a legislative or administrative act that imple-
mented a UN Security Council sanction. In Görgülü (Decision of 14 October 2004,
BVerfGE 111, 307 et seq.) the Court said that Germany’s Constitution is “international
law friendly” up to the moment in which accepting or implementing a decision of an
international organ would be in contrast to fundamental principles of the German
Constitution, including its catalogue of human rights.
24
See note 5 above.
25
Joined Cases C-402/05 P and C-415/05 P (Kadi and Al Barakaat) [2008] ECR
I–6351.
1534 torsten stein

regulation in the light of fundamental freedoms is excluded by virtue of

the fact that that measure is intended to give effect to a resolution of the
Security Council adopted under Chapter VII of the UN Charter”. “Such
immunity from jurisdiction for a Community measure … cannot find
a basis in the EC Treaty”. “The review by the Court of the validity of any
Community measure in the light of fundamental rights must be con-
sidered to be the expression, in a community based on the rule of law,
of a constitutional guarantee stemming from the EC Treaty as an
autonomous legal system which is not to be prejudiced by an interna-
tional agreement”. “Any judgment by the Community judicature decid-
ing that a Community measure intended to give effect to a [UN Security
Council resolution] is contrary to a higher rule of law in the Community
legal order would not entail any challenge to the primacy of that resolu-
tion in international law”. As a result, the ECJ held that Kadi’s rights to
be heard and to effective judicial review were not respected, and that
under these conditions the freezing of funds constituted an unjustified
restriction of Kadi’s right to property. The Court set aside the judgment
of the CFI and annulled the contested EC Regulation, but ordered its
effects to be maintained for a maximum of three months in order to
allow the EC Council to remedy the infringements found, but also to
prevent measures which might be taken by Kadi in order to frustrate a
follow-up freezing decision if such decision were to prove justified. For
the same reason the Court had previously rejected the necessity of a
hearing prior to the making of the freezing order.
After the ECJ’s decision in Kadi, and in order to comply with the
judgment, the European Commission communicated the narrative
summary of reasons provided by the UN Sanctions Committee to Kadi
and gave him the opportunity to comment on them. After having “care-
fully considered” the comments received, and given the preventive
nature of the freezing of funds and economic resources, the Commission
considered that Kadi’s listing was justified by reason of his association
with the Al-Qaida network. The Commission expressly disregarded the
fact that criminal proceedings in Switzerland, Turkey and Albania
against Kadi had been dropped, arguing that the standards of evidence
in criminal proceedings were different from those applicable to pre-
ventative measures. As a result, Kadi was added to the annexed list by
Commission Regulation (EC) No. 1190/2008 of 28 November 2008.26

26
O. J., L 322/25 of 2 December 2008.
 too “smart” for legal protection?1535

What Kadi had received so far was an administrative hearing, not

effective judicial protection by a court of law, which the ECJ in its deci-
sion had identified as a general principle of Community Law.
Consequently, Kadi went again to the CFI on 26 February 2009, to
challenge Commission Regulation No. 1190/2008 and ask the CFI to
review the “narrative summary of reasons provided by the UN
Sanctions Committee” as to whether these reasons justified maintain-
ing him on the sanctions list. The CFI, now renamed the “General
Court” under the Treaty of Lisbon, gave its judgment on 30 September
2010.27
The CFI did in fact review such reasons in another case, that of the
People’s Mojahedin Organization of Iran (PMOI), which, however, did
not involve a sanctions decision of the UN Security Council, but only
decisions and regulations of the Council of the European Union.28 In
two previous decisions of December 2006 and October 200829 the CFI
had already annulled the inclusion of the PMOI on the list of terrorist
organizations drawn up by the EC Council. But in each of these rul-
ings, judgment was given on a list which was no longer current, since
the list was updated every six months and Court proceedings generally
take longer than that, and the Council simply disregarded the judg-
ments when updating the list. In the last decision (4 December 2008)
the CFI used a new expedited procedure for the first time and the judg-
ment applied to the current list. Since the Court had annulled a current
list, putting the PMOI back on the list would have been a new inclusion
which necessitated support from every Member State, while for renew-
als it is enough that no Member State raises any objection. Since una-
nimity could not be reached for the renewed inclusion of the PMOI,
the Council’s Common Position of 29 January 200930 had to concede
that “following the judgment of the CFI of 4 December 2008 in Case
T-284/08, one group has not been included in the list of persons, groups
and entities to which Common Position 2001/931/CFSP applies”.
Consequently, the PMOI no longer appears in the annex.
Also here, the CFI ruled in substance that the PMOI’s right to
defence and a fair hearing had been violated, because neither France

27
Case T-85/09, Yassin Abdullah Kadi v. European Commission, not yet published.
28
Case T-284/08, Judgment of 4 December 2008, not yet published, but available at
http://curia.europa.eu.
29
Case T-228/02, 2006 ECR II-4665 and Case T-256/07, not yet published.
30
Council Common Position 2009/67/CFSP, O. J., L 23/37 of 21 January 2009.
1536 torsten stein

nor the EU Council was prepared to provide precise information on

the PMOI and to share it with the Court. The PMOI had carried out
armed attacks in Iran in the past, but had renounced violence in 2001
and laid down its weapons in 2003.

E. The Judgment of the General Court

In its lengthy and carefully reasoned judgment of 30 September 2010,31

the Seventh Chamber of the General Court reiterated all the relevant
facts and the history of this case and gave ample space to the arguments
of the parties, as well as to those of the Council of the European Union,
the French Republic and the United Kingdom as interveners. The
Chamber repeated the views expressed in the (then) CFI’s judgment of
2005 and those of the ECJ on appeal, and showed some sympathy for
the argument that a certain margin of discretion of the Sanctions
Committee had to be respected; that full judicial review was liable to
encroach on the Security Council’s prerogatives and might lead to a
“collapse” of the centralized system of United Nations Sanctions in the
context of the fight against terrorism. But the Chamber then swung
towards the line of the ECJ (after first having underlined that it was not
legally bound by the points of law decided by the ECJ),32 putting the
ball back into the court of the ECJ by saying that “…the appellate prin-
ciple itself and the hierarchical judicial structure which is its corollary
generally advise against the General Court revisiting points of law
which have been decided by the Court of Justice. That is a fortiori the
case when, as here, the Court of Justice was sitting in Grand Chamber
formation and clearly intended to deliver a judgment establishing cer-
tain principles. Accordingly, if an answer is to be given to the questions
raised by the institutions, Member States and interested legal quarters
following the judgment of the Court of Justice in Kadi, it is for the
Court of Justice itself to provide that answer in the context of future
cases before it”.33 The Chamber also observed that some higher national
courts had adopted a rather similar approach to that taken by the CFI
in 2005, while others had tended to follow the approach taken by the
Court of Justice on appeal.34

31
Note 27.
32
Case T-85/09, para. 112.
33
 Id., para. 212.
34
 Id., para. 122.
 too “smart” for legal protection?1537

In substance the Chamber then followed the ECJ and concluded that
its task was to ensure “in principle the full review” of the lawfulness of
the contested regulation in the light of fundamental rights, without
according the regulation any immunity from jurisdiction on the
ground that it gave effect to resolutions adopted by the Security Council
under Chapter VII of the Charter of the United Nations.35
This, said the Chamber, had to remain the case, at the very least, so
long as the re-examination procedure operated by the Sanctions
Committee clearly failed to offer guarantees of effective judicial protec-
tion.36 Neither the so-called “focal point” established within the UN
Secretariat37 nor the Ombudsperson38 which replaced the focal point,
could be equated with the provision of an effective judicial procedure
for the review of decisions of the Sanctions Committee. The Ombud­
sperson could not take binding decisions; the removal from the
Sanctions Committee’s list still required consensus within the Com­
mittee. Another monitum of the Chamber was that the evidence which
might be disclosed to the person concerned continued to be a matter
entirely at the discretion of the State which proposed the listing, and
that the person concerned need not even be informed of the identity of
the State which had requested his inclusion on the sanctions list.
The Chamber found support for following the ECJ in Kadi in the fact
that the ECJ in its judgment drew on the reasoning of the CFI in
PMOI,39 and in the consideration that the freezing of assets for 10 years
now could no longer be regarded as a temporary precautionary meas-
ure or as preventive in nature. The Chamber cited here40 from the UN
High Commissioner for Human Rights’ report to the UN General
Assembly of 2 September 2009:41 “[b]ecause individual listings are cur-
rently open-ended in duration, they may result in a temporary freeze of
assets becoming permanent which, in turn, may amount to criminal
punishment due to the severity of the sanction”.
The Chamber then dissected the “summary of reasons” disclosed to
Kadi in an almost merciless manner: “[n]o indication as to the attack in
question, the facility, the date…”; “no information about the firms, the

35
 Id., para. 126.
36
 Id., para.127 et seq.
37
SC Res. 1730 of 19 December 2006.
38
SC Res. 1904 of 17 December 2007.
39
Cf. note 28.
40
Case T-85/09, para. 150.
41
UN Doc.A/HRC/12/22, para. 42.
1538 torsten stein

money, the time…”,42 and concluded that the applicant’s rights of

defence had been ‘observed’ only in the most formal and superficial
sense.
It is not surprising that the Chamber finally found a violation of the
applicant’s rights of defence, an infringement of the principle of effec-
tive judicial protection, an unjustified restriction of his right to prop-
erty and a breach of the principle of proportionality, and in consequence
annulled Commission Regulation (EC) No 1190/2008 of 28 November
2008 in so far as it concerned Mr Yassin Abdullah Kadi.
In Foundation Al-Aqsa43 the General Court had already annulled
Council Decision 2007/445/EC of 28 June 2007. In that Decision
Al-Aqsa, which was not on the UN Sanctions Committee’s list, was
again put on the European Union’s sanctions list, although the Dutch
freezing order of 3 April 2003, which provided the reason for the origi-
nal inclusion of Al-Aqsa on 27 June 2003, had already been lifted on
3 August 2003.44 Both these judgments of the General Court are subject
to an appeal in law to the ECJ, this time on the part of the Commission
or the Council, and both, as well as the United Kingdom, have in fact
lodged such appeals,45 but it seems quite unlikely that the ECJ will
abandon the position taken in its judgment of 3 September 2008.

F. Conclusions

Three independent bodies in a way revolted against the existing system

of targeted sanctions under the regime of the UN Security Council and
under the Common Foreign and Security Policy of the European
Union. Two are courts; one, the Human Rights Committee, is not a
court but a body composed of experienced international lawyers.
And, indeed, the system of targeted sanctions marks a paradigmatic
change. Previous sanctions against States under Chapter VII of the UN
Charter or under Art. 301 EC Treaty (now Art. 215 TFEU), as porous
or undermined as they might have been more often than not, did not
affect individuals as much as targeted sanctions do. The UN Sanctions

42
Case T-85/09, para. 157.
43
Case T-348/07, Stichting Al-Aqsa v. Council, Judgment of 9 September 2010, not
yet published.
44
Cf. already Case T-327/03, Al-Aqsa v. Council, Judgment of 11 July 2007.
45
Cases C-584/10 P, 593/10 P and 595/ P, which have been joined by decision of the
President of the Court (so far only on the website of the Court).
 too “smart” for legal protection?1539

Committee is empowered to consider listing and de-listing requests.

States and regional organizations may propose names for listing and
provide facts or suspicions in support of the proposed listing. Targeted
individuals or entities are entitled to submit a request for de-listing
only through the State of their residence or citizenship (without, in the
vast majority of States, having a right to such diplomatic protection),
or through a “focal point” in the UN Secretariat, and now the Ombud­
sperson. The Sanctions Committee makes decisions on listing or de-
listing requests by consensus.46 This comes nowhere close to judicial
protection or fair trial standards recognized and guaranteed in all
international, regional and national catalogues of human rights. Even
those who at least partly dissented in the Human Rights Committee in
Sayadi wrote,47 “[w]e acknowledge, of course, that the authors may
have been unjustly harmed by operation of the extravagant powers the
Security Council has arrogated to itself, including the obstacles it has
created to the correction of errors. It is more than a little disturbing that
the executive branches of 15 Member States appear to claim a power,
with none of the consultation or checks and balances that would be
applicable at the national level, to simply discard centuries of State’s
constitutional traditions of providing bulwarks against exorbitant and
oppressive executive action”. It is surprising that after this strong (and
absolutely correct) statement, they conclude that, “However, the
Security Council cannot be impleaded (sic!) under the Covenant”. The
majority of the Committee was much braver.
But simply citing Art. 103 of the UN Charter is not enough; the
problem is much more serious. Anyone who has seen one of those
sanctions lists with endless alias names could not rule out grave errors.
And who knows how many national internal or external security ser-
vices are eager to “contribute” to such a list without carefully checking
their listing proposals. Somebody had to ring the bell, even if that
means refusing to obey the UN Security Council’s order. It is, therefore,
not correct to compare the decision of the ECJ in Kadi with the deci-
sion of the Supreme Court of the United States in Medellin,48 as Weiler
did.49 It does make a lot of difference whether a national supreme court

46
See the Guidelines of the Sanction Committee, http://www.un.org/sc/
committees/1267/pdf/1267_guidelines.pdf.
47
 Individual opinion (partly dissenting) by Committee members Sir Nigel Rodley,
Mr. Ivan Shearer and Ms. Julia Antranella Wotoc, see note 11 above, at 27.
48
Decision of 15 March 2008, Medellin v. Texas, 06–984.
49
J. Weiler, “Kadi–Europe’s Medellin?”, http://ejiltalk.org., filed under: Editorials.
1540 torsten stein

says “we are not interested in international law; hang him” or whether
a national or regional court refuses to obey a sanctions measure in
order to protect individuals from human rights violations.
There remains, of course, the concern that judgments like those of
the European Courts could undermine the effectiveness of UN Security
Council countermeasures designed to fight terrorism, and that such
judgments ignore the Security Council’s primary responsibility for the
maintenance of international peace and security. But does that respon-
sibility absolve the Security Council from observing human rights? Do
measures which disregard human rights really advance international
peace and security? And do “targeted sanctions” against supposed
financers of terrorist acts indeed fall under this “primary responsibil-
ity”? Terrorist attacks in their great majority endanger national, not
international, security. The threat they pose to national security is simi-
lar to that of organized (violent) crime. And in that context–if it comes
to freezing assets–one would speak of preventive or repressive
(national) police measures. There are certainly instances in which
States are suspected of supporting terrorist acts perpetrated in another
State, instances which might even fall under Art.3 (g) of the UN
General Assembly’s Definition of Aggression,50 and which do indeed
involve “international security”, but has one ever heard of UN Security
Council sanctions against Pakistan or Saudi Arabia? And have the “tar-
geted” sanctions really reduced the number of terrorist attacks, e.g. in
Iraq or Afghanistan?
The European Courts have done what they had to do. It does not
help to say that the ECJ, and now also the General Court, simply faded
out public international law due to their profiling neurosis,51 and to call
for more cooperation between the universal and the regional levels.
How would that cooperation look at the moment where there is no
serious legal protection against “smart” or “targeted” sanctions at the
UN level? It also does not help to maintain that Europe and the univer-
sal UN system have different human rights standards, the UN system
being “built on a worldwide agreement on values shared by all States”,
so that it would be “highly improbable that the UN will adjust its own

50
 GA Res. 3314 (XXIX) of 14 December 1974, UNYB 28, 846 (1974).
51
P. Hilpold, Kadi die Dritte–EU-Recht und UN-Recht weiter auf Kollisionskurs,
Europäische Zeitschrift für Wirtschaftsrecht 844 et seq. (2010). Cf. also P. Hilpold, EU
Law and UN Law in Conflict: The Kadi Case, 13 Max Planck Yearbook of UN Law 141
et seq. (2009).
 too “smart” for legal protection?1541

standards to the European system”.52 The human rights that are at stake
here (in particular due process) are identical at the European and the
UN levels.53
The proper solution for the UN Security Council, which has created
a number of international tribunals and which stood at the cradle of a
number of “hybrid” courts, would be to create another international
tribunal with independent judges in order to provide true judicial pro-
tection in individual cases against sanctions imposed by the UN
Sanctions Committee. It is not likely that each and every person on that
list will go to that tribunal, in particular not if errors in the listing pro-
cess are already corrected at the “administrative” level of the Sanctions
Committee. And some on the list will know that the evidence against
them is more than sufficient. That tribunal could also be informed in
camera about sensitive security details which need not necessarily be
disclosed to the plaintiff for the purposes of his defence. It is high time
for such a tribunal; otherwise the European Courts will continue to
decide as they did. On the other hand, if such an independent tribunal
is established and functioning, the European Courts could adopt the
position which the German Constitutional Court and the European
Court of Human Rights did take vis-à-vis the protection of human
rights by the ECJ.54

52
S. Neudorfer, Antiterrormaßnahmen der Vereinten Nationen und
Grundrechtsschutz in der Union, 69 Zeitschrift für ausländisches öffentliches Recht
und Völkerrecht, 979 et seq. (2009).
53
Cf. D. Cortright/E. de Wet, Human Rights Standards for Targeted Sanctions,
Policy Brief, Sanctions and Security Research Program (SSRP) 1001–01, January 2010,
citing B. Fassbender, Targeted Sanctions and Due Process: The responsibility of the UN
Security Council to ensure that fair and clear procedures are made available to indi-
viduals and entities targeted with sanctions under Chapter VII of the UN Charter
(study commissioned by the UN Office of Legal Affairs, Humboldt-Universität zu
Berlin, 20 March 2006), as well as International Commission of Jurists, Assessing
Damage, Urging Action: Report of the Eminent Jurists Panel on terrorism, Counter-
Terrorism and Human Rights, Geneva: International Commission of Jurists, 2009, 122.
54
U. Haltern, Gemeinschaftsgrundrechte und Antiterrormaßnahmen der UNO,
62 Juristen Zeitung 537, at 547 (2007).
 Self-Determination of Peoples–A Chronic
Problem of Humankind

Budislav Vukas

A. Introduction

The reason for choosing this topic for my contribution to the Festschrift
for my dear colleague and friend, Professor Rüdiger Wolfrum, are the
problems that self-determination of peoples cause at present in many
areas of the world. It suffices to mention the recent problems relating to
the states created in the 1990s on the basis of the republics of the Soviet
Union and Yugoslavia, the permanent struggles for independence of
the Kurds in Turkey and Iraq, the Turks in Cyprus, the Basques in
Spain, the population in the southern parts of Sudan, etc.*
Having chosen this topic, it has been natural to start my analysis and
drafting of the text by a reference to the Charter of the United Nations
(UN), the first relevant international instrument containing provisions
on self-determination. In addition to the text of the Charter itself, it
was appropriate to consult the scientific opinions on those provisions
in the Commentary “The Charter of the United Nations”, edited by
Bruno Simma, which is used all over the world.1 Although the main
text on self-determination in the Commentary was written by Professor
Karl Doehring,2 many of my doubts have been clarified by the texts of
Rüdiger Wolfrum!3
As already mentioned, in this short text I will deal with “self-
determination of peoples”, starting with its insertion in the UN Charter.
I cannot afford any analysis of the desire of peoples/tribes/minorities to
self-determination in the earlier phases of the development of interna-
tional relations and international law. In fact, I do not consider it
appropriate even to mention “the principle of equal rights and self-
determination of peoples” as discussed and practised by politicians in
the United States of America and France at the end of the 18th century,

* Text completed 2 May 2011.

1
B. Simma (ed.), The Charter of the United Nations, A Commentary (1995).
2
Id., at 56–72.
3
Id., at 45–56 and 759–776.
1544 budislav vukas

when these states were exterminating the indigenous populations and

establishing colonies. The real attitude of the leaders in these countries,
often mentioned as the beginning of the theory and practice of “the
principle of equal rights and self-determination of peoples”, was exactly
the opposite of the essence of this principle and the way in which it
ought to be promoted in humankind, without discrimination among
individuals and peoples. They considered this principle applicable only
to “civilized peoples”.4
I will avoid even the final period of World War I, when the victors
imposed the principle of national self-determination as the basis for
the liberation of some peoples from the defeated states in Central and
Eastern Europe. However, the Great Powers had no intention of apply-
ing this principle to their own colonial possessions.5

B. The United Nations Charter

I. The short text (111 articles) of the 65-year-old world constitution

contains two provisions mentioning the principle of “equal rights and
self-determination of peoples”. First, in Article 1, para. 2, as one of “the
purposes of the United Nations” it was decided:
“To develop friendly relations among nations based on respect for the
principle of equal rights and self-determination of peoples, and to take
other appropriate measures to strengthen universal peace”.
The second reference to self-determination is to be found in Article 55,
where “the principle of equal rights and self-determination of peoples”
is listed as one of the means of “the creation of conditions of stability
and well-being which are necessary for peaceful and friendly relations
among nations”, which “the United Nations shall promote”.
II. The rights of peoples, including self-determination, were men­
tioned in the meetings of the representatives of the major Allied Powers
during World War II. Thus, this principle was announced in the
“Atlantic Charter”, adopted on 19 August 1941 by the President of the
United States, F.D. Roosevelt, and the Prime Minister of the United
Kingdom, W. Churchill. However, the interests and opinions of the

4
V. Ibler, Rječnik međunarodnog javnog prava, at 285 (2nd ed. 1987).
5
 On the historical development of the principle of self-determination see: B. Vukas,
States, Peoples and Minorities, 231 Recueil des cours, Academy of International Law
263, at 364–369 (1999).
 self-determination of peoples1545

most important leaders of the anti-Nazi alliance in respect of the prin-

ciple of self-determination of peoples differed. Anyhow, they were not
interpreting that principle in the way it was interpreted and developed
later in the course of decolonization in the World Organization they
had established. Analysing the discussions at Dumbarton Oaks and
San Francisco, Rüdiger Wolfrum concludes that “[t]he term ‘equality of
peoples’ was meant to underline that no hierarchy existed between the
various peoples. To this extent, the prohibition of racial discrimination
was transferred from the national level to the level of international rela-
tions. Apart from that, the principle of equality of peoples and the right
of self-determination are united”. However, “the reference to self-
determination encompasses the principle of self-government, but does
not justify a secession”.6
III. Whatever the intentions of the drafters of the UN Charter, the
interpretation of the two above-mentioned provisions on “equal rights
and self-determination of peoples” encounters several questions/prob-
lems: who are the beneficiaries of that right; what is the content of self-
determination, the nature of that right, the relationship between the
right to self-determination and other principles of the UN Charter and
general international law.
The initial, first words of the Preamble to the Charter (WE THE
PEOPLES OF THE UNITED NATIONS…) contain two important
words for the interpretation of many provisions of the Charter, includ-
ing those relative to the self-determination of peoples. In this respect
the clarification given by Rüdiger Wolfrum is very useful:
“The word ‘peoples’ is not used identically throughout the Charter. For
example, in the Preamble it lacks ethnic connotation it has in Art. 1 (2).
Thus, the term ‘peoples’, as used in the Preamble, refers to the population
of the member states.”7
Therefore, the word “peoples”, used at the beginning of the Preamble
means the population of the states establishing the United Nations, and
the word “nations” refers to those states. However, later in the Charter,
the word “peoples” is used differently. Thus, for example, Chapter XI,
dealing with non-self-governing territories, in the treatment of these
territories and their inhabitants takes into account “the culture of the
peoples concerned” (Art 73 (a)).

6
Simma (note 1), at 53.
7
Id., at 46.
1546 budislav vukas

IV. Taking into account their above-mentioned meaning in the ini-

tial words to the Preamble of the Charter, it is clear that one of the
“Purposes of the United Nations”, indicated in Article 1, para. 2, refers
to the same “peoples” and “nations” as mentioned in the initial words
to the Preamble. Namely, as one of the purposes of the United Nations
the drafters of the Charter prescribed:
“To develop friendly relations among nations based on respect for the
principle of equal rights and self-determination of peoples…” (Article 1,
para. 2.).
“Equal rights and self-determination of peoples” in this provision could
not be interpreted as applicable to the 50 states/nations establishing the
United Nations in the same way as to the 74 non-self-governing terri-
tories the peoples of which had not yet “attained a full measure of self-
government” (Article 73 of the Charter) in 1945 and to the 11 territories
placed under the trusteeship system at the beginning of the activities of
the United Nations (Chapter XII of the Charter).
V. Taking into account the fact that self-determination in the Charter
referred to sovereign states, members of the United Nations, all the
principles obligatory for the Organization and its Members under
Article 2 of the Charter must be interpreted in accordance with “the
principle of equal rights and self-determination of peoples”. This con-
clusion is relevant, taking into account the later developments based on
the right to self-determination, and it concerns particularly Article 2,
para. 4, which states that:
“All Members shall refrain in their international relations from the threat
or use of force against the territorial integrity or political independence
of any state, or in any other manner inconsistent with the Purposes of the
United Nations”.
Taking into account the realities of the world in 1945, the opinions of
the majority of the drafters of the Charter and the text of the initial
articles of the Charter, one must conclude that “the principle of equal
rights and self-determination of peoples” was inserted in the Charter
neither as a specific “Purpose” of the Organization, nor an independ-
ent “Principle” in accordance with which the Organization and its
members shall act, but only as an element on which are “based” “peace-
ful and friendly relations among nations”.8 It had to be considered as

8
Y. Z. Blum, Reflections on the Changing Concept of Self-Determination, 10 Israel
Law Review 509, at 511 (1975).
 self-determination of peoples1547

granting the population of every nation the right independently to

decide on the social and political reality/system of their state.

C. Decolonization

I. The original members of the United Nations were ready to open

membership of the Organization “to all other peace-loving states which
accept the obligations contained in the present Charter and, in the
judgment of the Organization, are able and willing to carry out these
obligations” (Article 4, para. 1).
Although it was not expressly stated in the Charter, its provisions
opened the way to independence and membership of the United
Nations to another type of subjects of international law–the trust ter-
ritories. This was a consequence of the attitude expressed even in the
League of Nations in respect of the mandates, particularly of the so-
called A-mandated territories. Namely, one of the basic objectives of
the trusteeship system was to promote the advancement of the inhabit-
ants of the trust territories and “their progressive development towards
self-government or independence as may be appropriate to the partic-
ular circumstances of each territory and its peoples and the freely
expressed wishes of the peoples concerned…” (Article 76 (b)). In prac-
tice, the populations of some trust territories started their activities in
the sense of reaching independence already in the 1950s and the last
trust territory, Palau, became independent and a member of the United
Nations in 1994.
II. However, it was unrealistic to expect flexible rules concerning the
self-determination of colonies, mostly under “the administration”
(Article 73) of the Western European States at the moment they were
winning the war and drafting the Charter.9 They proclaimed them
“non-self-governing territories, whose peoples have not yet attained a
full measure of self-government”. Contrary to the objectives of the
trusteeship system, “independence” is not among the goals of the
administration of non-self-governing territories. One of the duties of
the Members of the United Nations assuming responsibilities for the
administration of those territories is:
“[t]o develop self-government, to take due account of the political aspira-
tions of the peoples, and to assist them in the progressive development of

9
The administrative states were: Australia, Belgium, Denmark, France, the
Netherlands, New Zealand, the United Kingdom and the United States.
1548 budislav vukas

their free political institutions, according to the particular circumstances

of each territory and its peoples and their varying stages of advancement”
(Article 73 (b)).”
III. However, immediately after the beginning of the activities of the
United Nations bodies, many non-self-governing territories expressed
their desire for independence; self-government under the rule of the
administrating powers did not satisfy their national aspirations. Some
of them were ready even to use force in achieving their goal. Such ten-
dencies of the non-self-governing territories prompted the UN General
Assembly as early as in 1952 to adopt a resolution entitled “The right of
peoples and nations to self-determination”, in which it recommended
that “the States Members of the United Nations shall uphold the prin-
ciple of self-determination of all peoples and nations” (first operative
paragraph).10 However, in addition to the recommendation concerning
“all peoples and nations”, the resolution stated that the peoples of non-
self-governing territories and trust territories had the right to self-
determination, and invited the member states of the United Nations to
recognize and promote the realization of that right and facilitate its
exercise (second operative paragraph). Even an Ad Hoc Committee
was set up to take into account the right of self-determination of peo-
ples.11 Yet, notwithstanding this development in comparison with the
UN Charter, it was only in 1960 that the General Assembly proclaimed
the Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries
and Peoples.12 Another resolution, adopted also at the end of 1960,
clearly set out the three ways of reaching self-determination by a non-
self-governing territory:
“Principle VI–A non-self-governing territory can be said to have reached
a full measure of self-government by: (a) Emergence as a sovereign inde-
pendent State; (b) Free association with an independent State; or (c)
Integration with an independent State”.13
In the case of free association, the former non-self-governing territory
retained the freedom to modify the chosen status and, if integration
was chosen, equality of the peoples of both territories had to be granted
(principles VII and VIII).14

10
 Resolution 637 A of 16 December 1952.
11
GA Res. 648 (VII) of 10 December 1952.
12
GA Res. 1514 (XV) of 14 December 1960.
13
GA Res. 1541 (XV) of 15 December 1960.
14
Id.
 self-determination of peoples1549

To the three ways in which the population of a non-self-governing

territory could exercise self-determination according to the above
text, the General Assembly in 1970 added “any other political status
freely determined by a people” as a way of implementing the right to
self-determination.15
As a result of the application of the above-mentioned General
Assembly resolutions, in the following years some 60 former colonial
territories, inhabited by more than 80 million people, attained self-
determination through independence and joined the United Nations
as sovereign members. Only 15 non-self-governing territories still
exist, mostly because they are small island territories whose economy
depends on the administering powers.16 Only some of them represent
serious international political problems (Gibraltar and Falkland/
Malvinas Islands).

D. The End of the Cold War

I. The end of the Cold War enabled the dissolution of some federations
established in the past under various, mostly non-democratic ways.
However, the dissolution and the establishment of new sovereign states
were not achieved in an equal manner. Although Moscow was not
happy with the early proclamation of independence by Estonia,
Lithuania and Latvia, it accepted the peaceful dissolution of the entire
Soviet Union at the end of 1991. As in earlier history, Czechs and
Slovaks demonstrated their wise attitude in respect of peaceful solution
of international problems. Thus, in 1993 the federal union was peace-
fully dissolved, and the Czech Republic and Slovakia became two inde-
pendent states. On the contrary, the dissolution of Yugoslavia into five
states was achieved after five years of bloody war (1991–1995), primar-
ily in Croatia and Bosnia and Herzegovina.
II. However, the dissolution of the Soviet Union and the Socialist
Federal Republic of Yugoslavia in the early 1990s apparently was not
the end of the establishment of new states on the basis of the former
“Socialist Republics”. Two areas in Georgia do not want to be part of
that state: Abkhazia and South Ossetia claim to be independent states,
and the Russian Federation has often shown sympathy and provided

15
GA Res. 2625 (XXV) of 24 October 1970.
16
UN, Basic Facts About the United Nations, at 286–289 (2004).
1550 budislav vukas

support for their claim. Transnistria–a strip of land located between

the Dniester River and the Eastern Moldovian border with Ukraine–is
governed de facto as the Pridnestrovian Moldavian Republic. Anyhow,
these territories wanting independence have been recognized as inde-
pendent states by only a few states, and they do not even try to become
members of the United Nations.
The situation in the territory of some former Yugoslav Republics
is even more complicated and dangerous. In fact, the events in
respect of self-determination and statehood in that area deserve the
traditional description of “Balkanism”.17 The former “Yugoslav Socialist
Republics” Serbia and Montenegro established in April 1992 a united
state called “Federal Republic of Yugoslavia”. However, the majority of
the population of Montenegro wanted to live in an independent state,
and since 2006 there have been two states: Serbia and Montenegro.
The terrible war in Bosnia and Herzegovina was terminated by the
1995 Dayton Agreement, containing a strange constitutional solution.
Notwithstanding the existence of three “constitutional peoples”, the
Bosniacs, Serbs and Croats, the constitutional rules and their applica-
tion since 1995 have resulted in a quasi independent area with the
Serbian majority (“the Serbian Republic”), and the remaining territory
of the Republic of Bosnia and Herzegovina, where Croats at present
have a role similar to that of a national minority. The European Union–
in fact the protector of Bosnia and Herzegovina under the Dayton
Agreement–is trying to change some rules of that compromise and
their application.
III. However, we must come back to Serbia. According to the
Constitution of the SFR of Yugoslavia, Serbia included two autono-
mous provinces: Vojvodina and Kosovo. However, in his maniac ten-
dency to control the entire territory of Yugoslavia, the then leader of
Serbia, Slobodan Milošević, in 1990 abolished the autonomy of Kosovo.
In order to stop the atrocities which happened in the following decade,
NATO attacked Serbia in the first part of 1999. Hoping that this action
might have brought peace to Kosovo, the United Nations confirmed
“the sovereignty and territorial integrity of the Federal Republic of
Yugoslavia and the other States of the region” and reaffirmed the “sub-
stantial autonomy and meaningful self-administration for Kosovo”.18

17
Webster’s Encyclopedic Unabridged Dictionary of the English Language, at 113
(2nd ed. 1994).
18
SC Res. 1244 of 10 June 1999.
 self-determination of peoples1551

The Secretary-General of the United Nations was authorized to

establish, with the assistance of the relevant international organiza-
tions, “an international civil presence in Kosovo in order to provide
an interim administration for Kosovo under which the people of
Kosovo can enjoy substantial autonomy within the Federal Republic of
Yugoslavia”.19
However, notwithstanding those decisions and the end of the tyran-
nical government in Serbia, on 17 February 2008 the Albanian major-
ity declared the independence of Kosovo. In the following months
more than sixty states recognized this independence and established
diplomatic relations with Kosovo. Taking into account the specific
events and documents concerning the independence of Kosovo, the
General Assembly asked the International Court of Justice to deliver an
advisory opinion concerning the legality of the declaration of inde-
pendence. The conclusion of the ICJ was that the declaration of inde-
pendence did not violate international law. According to the opinion of
the Court, the declaration did not violate either general international
law or Security Council Resolution 1244 (1999).20
IV. It is clear that neither Serbia nor the Serbian population in Kosovo
is happy with the opinion of the ICJ. However, they accepted the nego-
tiations concerning the future of Kosovo proposed by the General
Assembly.21 On the other hand, the elections held in Kosovo in
December 2010 have shown that the final goal of the Albanian popula-
tion of Kosovo is unification with the state of Albania. In the context of
our topic, the case of Kosovo means the opening of the floodgates of
the realization of the “right to self-determination” to various areas in
the present states, based on various historical, ethnic, legal and other
reasons/arguments. Remaining in the area of the Balkans, it should be
recalled that since the independence of the former Yugoslav Republics,
some minorities have been fighting for independence in Croatia and
Macedonia, and it is to be hoped that the situation in Bosnia and
Herzegovina will not result in similar attitudes in some of the “consti-
tutional peoples”.

19
Id.
20
International Court of Justice, Accordance with international law of the multilat-
eral declaration of independence of Kosovo (Request for Advisory Opinion), available at
http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/index.php?p1=3&p2=4&k=21&case=141&code=kos
&p3=4.
21
GA Res. 10980 (LXIV) of 9 September 2010.
1552 budislav vukas

E. Final Remarks

In this brief text I could not mention all the general and regional docu-
ments declaring the principle of self-determination and discuss their
application. Starting with the UN Charter and the application of the
principle of self-determination to decolonization, I had to switch to the
present desire of the populations of some states to establish their inde-
pendent states or to join other states. However, the application of the
principle of self-determination in the era of the United Nations has
clarified neither the contents of this principle nor the list of its benefi-
ciaries. Therefore, I will repeat my conclusions from one of my earlier
texts:
“[t]he principle of self-determination has the nature of one of the most
important principles of contemporary international law. On the basis of
this principle, various subjects have the right to self-determination.
However, the contents of the right to self-determination of its different
holders varies”.22
Finally, I would like to end with the relevant conclusion of Professor
Obrad Račić. He concludes that neither the documents nor the practice
of the United Nations have really clarified the beneficiaries and the
contents of the principle of self-determination as applied to them.23

22
Vukas (note 5), at 415.
 O. Račić, Ujedinjene nacije–između moći i prava, at 147–148 (2010).
23
 The United Nations Collective Security System in
the 21st Century: Increased Decentralization
through Regionalization and Reliance on
Self-defence

Erika de Wet

A. The Concept of Collective Security under

the United Nations Charter

One of the many topics which Rüdiger Wolfrum has followed with
keen interest over the years is that of collective security, as exemplified
inter alia by his involvement as editor of the Max Planck Yearbook of
United Nations Law.1 In modern international law the concept of col-
lective security is personified by those articles of the United Nations
Charter (the Charter) which centralize the use of force within the
United Nations Security Council. This includes Article 2(4) of the
Charter which outlaws the threat or use of force against another State,
except in instances of self-defence, as articulated in Article 51 of the
Charter. In return the members of the United Nations, following
a determination in accordance with Article 39 of the Charter that a
threat to peace, breach of the peace or an act of aggression exists, may
take collective measures of a non-military (Article 41) or military
(Article 42) nature, for the purpose of restoring international peace
and security. In this manner the Charter attempts to realise the pri-
mary purpose of the United Nations as contained in Article 1(1) of the
Charter through collective action.2
The notion of collective security in the Charter developed against
the background of inter-State military conflict in World War II and
the desire to prevent the outbreak of such conflict.3 As a result, the

1
See also R. Wolfrum, Iraq: from Belligerent Occupation to Iraqi Exercise of
Sovereignty: Foreign Power versus International Community Interference, 9 Max
Planck Yearbook of United Nations Law 1, at 1 et seq. (2005).
2
T. Franck, Recourse to Force: State Action against Threats and Armed Attacks,
Hersch Lauterpacht Memorial Lectures, at 21 (2002); V. Gowlland-Debbas, The Limits
of Unilateral Enforcement of Community Objectives in the Framework of UN Peace
Maintenance, 11 European Journal of International Law 361, at 254, 260 (2000).
3
J. Delbrück, Collective Security, in: R. Bernhardt (ed.), Encyclopedia of Public
International Law, Vol. 1, 650, at 651 (2nd ed. 1992).
1554 erika de wet

enforcement system contained in Chapter VII of the Charter was

not designed to deal with intra-State conflicts. Nonetheless, since the
adoption of the Charter and in particular since the end of the Cold
War, the large number of internal armed conflicts around the globe has
resulted in the deployment of the enforcement mechanisms foreseen in
Chapter VII in such conflicts. Since the 1990s, internal armed conflict
was increasingly accepted as posing a “threat to peace”, due to the
destabilizing effect that such conflicts tended to have on inter-State
relations.4
In addition, the notions of peace and collective security evolved in
the post-Cold War era. At the time of the adoption of the Charter
“peace” was defined as the absence of armed conflict between States,
whereas collective security concerned those collective (military) mech-
anisms that prevented such conflicts.5 However, since the 1990s these
concepts have evolved in order to focus not only on the interests of
States, but also on those of individuals within States. For example, since
the 1990s the Security Council has frequently determined the existence
of a threat to peace and deployed the Chapter VII enforcement mecha-
nism in order to protect populations against widespread and system-
atic violations of human rights and humanitarian law. By the beginning
of the 21st century it was well established that genocide, ethnic cleans-
ing and other such crimes against humanity constitute threats to inter-
national peace and security, as a result of which the Security Council
could authorize enforcement action under Chapter VII.6
This shift away from a notion of peace that exclusively focuses on the
absence of inter-State conflict, towards a notion that embraces the pro-
tection of human life and well-being, implies that the collective secu-
rity system provided by the Charter is increasingly seen as a system of
human security.7 Whereas the enforcement system provided under
Chapter VII of the Charter may once have been designed exclusively to
deal with inter-State conflict, it is now also seen as a mechanism for
realizing human welfare. This shift in the paradigm gained momentum
with the publication of various high profile international reports since
the 1990s, which all placed human well-being at the centre of collective

4
E. de Wet, The Chapter VII Powers of the United Nations Security Council, at 150
et seq. (2004).
5
Id., at 138.
6
In Larger Freedom, UN Doc. A/59/2005 (2005), at para. 125.
7
Gowlland-Debbas (note 2), at 262–263.
 the united nations collective security system1555

security. Prominent examples include the United Nations Secretary-

General’s 1992 Agenda for Peace;8 the 1994 Human Development
Report of the United Nations Development Programme;9 the 2001
report of the Canadian sponsored Commission on Intervention and
State Sovereignty on the Responsibility to Protect;10 as well as the 2003
report of the Japanese sponsored Commission on Human Security,
titled Human Security Now.11
In 2005 the former Secretary-General embraced a comprehensive
concept of collective security as suggested by the High Level Panel on
Threats, Challenges and Change which was convened on his authority
in 2004.12 In accordance with this concept, any event or process that
leads to large-scale death or lessening of life chances undermines States
as the basic unit of the international system and poses a threat to inter-
national security. So defined, there are six inter-connected clusters of
threats with which the world must be concerned. The first include eco-
nomic and social threats (including poverty, infectious disease and
environmental degradation). The remaining clusters concern tradi-
tional threats to state security, namely interstate conflict, internal con-
flict, and trans-national organized crime.13
This broad notion of security remains controversial, as it is disputa-
ble whether economic and social threats, which have traditionally been
dealt with in the context of development aid, should be equated with
threats which directly imply the use of force in some form or another
such as armed conflict, international terrorism or weapons of mass
destruction.14 Not only is the nature of the international threat posed
by the economic and social threats more vague and indirect, but it is
also questionable whether the collective enforcement system foreseen

8
Agenda for Peace, UN Doc. A/47/277–S/24111 (1992).
9
United Nations Development Programme, Human Development Report 1994
(1994).
10
International Commission on Intervention and State Sovereignty, The Res­
ponsibility to Protect (2001), available at http://www.iciss.ca/pdf/Commission-Report
.pdf (ICISS Report).
11
Commission on Human Security, Human Security Now (2003), available at
http://www.humansecurity-chs.org/finalreport/index.html.
12
In Larger Freedom (note 6), at paras. 77–78.
13
Report of the High Level Panel on Threats, Challenges and Change, A More
Secure World: Our Shared Responsibility, UN Doc. A/59/565, at 23 (2004).
14
B. Fassbender, UN-Reform und kollektive Sicherheit: über den Bericht des UN
High-Level Panel on Threats, Challenges and Change vom Dezember 2004 und die
Empfehlungen des UN-Generalsekretärs vom März 2005, in: Heinrich-Böll-Stiftung
(ed.), Die Zukunft des Völkerrechts in einer globalisierten Welt 165, at 173 (2006).
1556 erika de wet

in Chapter VII of the Charter is equipped to prevent or remove such

threats in an effective manner. If one accepts that collective security
should be redefined in terms of human security that includes all the
threats listed by the High-Level Panel, the logical consequence would
be that the enforcement mechanism designed under the Charter sys-
tem should also be deployed for enforcing this new security concept.
However, it is questionable whether a mechanism primarily designed
for centralizing decision-making on the use of force would be suitable
to address a whole range of social and economic challenges.15
Thus far Security Council practice does not provide support for such
a broad definition. Even though human protection has gained promi-
nence in Chapter VII resolutions that authorized the use of force
around the globe, these authorizations have consistently been adopted
in relation to situations that threatened traditional State security inter-
ests in the form of armed conflict, whether of an international or non-
international nature. It is also noteworthy that the World Summit
Outcome acknowledged that peace and security, human rights and
development are the foundations for collective security, but did not
explicitly endorse the threats to peace as articulated by the High-Level
Panel and the Secretary-General.16
In essence therefore the centralization of decision-making con­
cerning the use of force in order to protect the more traditional notions
of State security remains for the time being the cornerstone of the
Charter’s collective security system. In this context it has become well
established since the end of the Cold War that the Security Council can
authorize individual States as well as different types of regional organi-
zations to use force on its behalf, even though some disagreement
remains regarding the exact basis for such authorization.17
However, despite the fact that extensive use has been made of the
collective security system under the Charter since the 1990s, there is
evidence of erosion of the system. The following section explores two
phenomena which pose a challenge to the Charter system, both of

15
Id., at 173–174.
16
World Summit Outcome, UN Doc. A/RES/60/1, at paras. 9, 72 (2005).
17
For a discussion whether Art. 42 combined with Art. 48(1) of the Charter is a
more suitable basis than Art. 51 for authorizing individual States to use force, see De
Wet (note 4), at 260–261. Similarly, there is some dispute regarding whether Art. 42
combined with Art. 48(2) would be a more suitable basis than Art. 53(1) for authoriz-
ing regional defense organizations, notably NATO, to use force on behalf of the Security
Council. See id., at 262.
 the united nations collective security system1557

which are attributable to some extent to the (perceived) abuse of the

(threat of the) use of the veto by any of the five permanent members.18
These phenomena concern the regionalization of the collective security
system as well as the continuous evolution of the right to self-defence.

B. Regionalization as a Manifestation of the

Humanization of Collective Security

Since the 1990s the central role of the Security Council in relation to
collective enforcement has been challenged by the actions of regional
(defence) organisations, which have engaged in military action in the
absence of a(n) (explicit) Security Council authorization. This action
was (in part) motivated by the widespread and systematic human rights
atrocities committed in the countries in which these organisations
subsequently intervened. The regionalization of collective security is
therefore linked to the debate on humanitarian intervention (“the
responsibility to protect”) which has been reignited at the end of
the 20th century.
In accordance with one line of argument, Article 51 of the Charter
combined with Article 53 constitutes a “right of emergency” for
regional organisations.19 Just as States can rely on the right to self-
defence in case of an armed attack unless or until the Security Council
takes action, regional organisations would have the power to intervene
where the Security Council remains inactive in situations of gross and
systematic human rights violations. This argument is underpinned by
the rational that the chances for abuse of the military mandate by a
regional organisation is unlikely, due to the institutional and collective
control provided within the regional body, as well as by the higher
degree of disinterest and objectivity within an organisation composed
of mutually independent States.20
This line of argument remains disputed, as it contradicts the
wording of the second sentence of Article 53(1) according to which no
enforcement action shall be taken by regional organisations without

18
T. Franck, Rethinking Collective Security, in: M. Schmitt/J. Peijc (eds.),
International Law and Armed Conflict: Exploring the Faultlines: Essays in Honour of
Yoram Dinstein, 21, at 23 (2007).
19
C. Walter, Vereinte Nationen und Regionalorganisationen: eine Untersuchung zu
Kapitel VIII der Satzung der Vereinten Nationen, at 261 (1996).
20
Id., at 262; Franck (note 18), at 25.
1558 erika de wet

authorization by the Security Council. Moreover, an assumption that

the Security Council could prevent the regional organisation from
intervening by adopting a Chapter VII resolution turns the Charter
system on its head, as it forces the Security Council to justify why it is
not adopting military measures. In this way the Security Council is
required to do the opposite from what is envisaged by the Charter sys-
tem which is, in accordance with Article 27(3) of the Charter, based on
an “opt-in procedure” in the case of enforcement action, as opposed to
an “opt-out” procedure.21 Second, any Chapter VII resolution intended
to terminate the regional organisation’s military action could be frus-
trated by a veto of a permanent member who is silently condoning the
illegal military operation. A case in point is the attempt of Russia to
terminate the air campaign in Kosovo. On 26 March 1999 Russia sub-
mitted a draft resolution that would have condemned the NATO mili-
tary action as a breach of international law.22 However, this draft
resolution (which was supported only by China and Namibia) was
vetoed by the western permanent members.
Despite these conceptual objections the African Union (AU) has
formally claimed for itself the right to intervene in member States
in in­stances of gross human rights violations. In accordance with
Article 4(h) of the Constitutive Act of the African Union of 11 July
2000, the organization may intervene in a member State pursuant to a
decision of the Assembly of Heads of State and Government in respect
of grave circumstances, namely war crimes, genocide and crimes
against humanity.23 In accordance with Article 7(1) of the Constitutive
Act, the Assembly takes such a decision on the basis of a two-thirds
majority. Apart from arguing that the AU would be claiming a “right of
emergency” for itself, it is also arguable that Article 4(h) constitutes a
collective, ex ante form of intervention on invitation. Since the mem-
bers of the AU have given their express consent to military interven-
tion under certain conditions, the use of force would fall outside the
scope of Article 2(4) and not be in violation of the Charter. However,
this argument in turn raises the question whether such an invitation

21
De Wet (note 4), at 296.
22
UN SCOR, UN Doc. S/1999/328 (1999).
23
A. Abass/M. Baderin, Towards Effective Collective Security and Human Rights
Protection in Africa: an Assessment of the Constitutive Act of the New African Union,
49 Netherlands International Law Review 1, at 15 (2002).
 the united nations collective security system1559

can be extended for an open-ended period of time, or whether it has to

be limited to a particular conflict.24
Whatever the conceptual underpinnings of Article 4(h) of the AU’s
Constitutive Document may be, it is bound to weaken the central role
of the Security Council in relation to the maintenance of international
peace and security–if and to the extent that it is indeed utilized in the
future. This risk does not only exist in relation to decisions concerning
the use of force as such, but also as to whether the threshold for justify-
ing such action has been crossed, namely the existence of a threat to
peace, breach of the peace, or an act of aggression. The threshold for
military intervention by the AU is the existence of international crimes
in the form of war crimes, genocide and crimes against humanity.
However, it is by now well accepted that the existence of these situa-
tions constitutes a threat to international peace and security. Therefore,
by making a determination in terms of Article 4(h) of the Constitutive
Act, the AU effectively replaces (or displaces) the role of the Security
Council in relation to Article 39 of the Charter.25
Throughout the 1990s, regional (defence) organizations have also
justified military interventions on the basis of so-called ex post facto
authorizations by the Security Council.26 Even though this would not
find any textual basis in the Charter, it cannot be excluded that the
Security Council could develop a practice of ex post facto, retroactive
authorization. However, in order for such an authorization to be con-
vincing, it has to be given in unambiguous terms. Otherwise regional
(defence) organisations (or States) could attempt to justify unauthor-
ized, unilateral interventions on the basis of obscure language in sub-
sequent Security Council resolutions which were not intended for that
purpose. Examples of attempts to justify military interventions by
regional (defence) organisations on the basis of ex post facto Security
Council authorization include the interventions in the 1990s by the
Economic Community of Western African States (ECOWAS) in Liberia
and Sierra Leone, as well as the North Atlantic Treaty Organization
(NATO) intervention in Kosovo.
In August 1990, ECOWAS authorized military forces in the form of
the ECOWAS Cease-fire Monitoring Group (ECOMOG) to restore
“law and order” and create the necessary conditions for free and fair

24
Id., at 17, 19.
25
Id., at 23.
26
Franck (note 18), at 25.
1560 erika de wet

elections in Liberia, without prior authorization of the Security

Council. Some have interpreted the subsequent Security Council reso-
lutions adopted in relation to Liberia as an ex post facto authorization
or endorsement of the military action undertaken by ECOMOG.27 This
included Security Council Resolution 788 of 19 November 1992, in
which the Security Council determined that the situation in Liberia
constituted a threat to peace and security in West Africa as a whole. It
also imposed an arms embargo on Liberia in terms of Chapter VII of
the Charter and “commended” ECOWAS for its efforts to restore peace,
security and stability in Liberia.28
Subsequent to the military coup in Sierra Leone in May 1997,
ECOWAS adopted an oil and arms embargo against the country in
August 1997 and authorized its troops to use all necessary means to
ensure its enforcement. Thereafter the Security Council imposed an
arms embargo against the military junta and authorized ECOMOG
under Chapter VIII to ensure a strict implementation of the embargo.29
Although this arms embargo was finally terminated in June 1998,30
ECOMOG continued to engage in military action. Subsequent praise
by the Security Council of ECOMOG’s actions has been interpreted as
an ex post facto authorization of the continued military intervention.31
These included Security Council Resolution 1181 of 13 July 1998 in
which the Security Council “commended” ECOMOG on its important
role in support of the objectives to restore peaceful conditions in the
country.32
The precedential value of the ex post facto authorizations pertain-
ing to both Liberia and Sierra Leone has been questioned inter alia
with the argument that in both instances the military interventions
by ECOMOG took place on the explicit invitation of the government.33
As a result, an (ex post facto) Security Council authorization was
neither necessary, nor necessarily intended, in any of the subsequent

27
Id.; Walter (note 19), at 237.
28
See also the preamble of SC Res. 866 of 22 September 1993.
29
SC Res. 1132 of 8 October 1997.
30
SC Res. 1171 of 5 June 1998.
31
Franck (note 18), at 25; U. Villani, The Security Council’s Authorisation of
Enforcement Action by Regional Organisations, 6 Max Planck Yearbook of
International Law 535, at 555 (2002).
32
See also SC Res. 1162 of 17 April 1998.
33
G. Nolte, Restoring Peace by Regional Action: International Legal Aspects of the
Liberian Conflict, 53 Zeitschrift für ausländisches öffentliches Recht und Völkerrecht
603, at 621–622 (1993).
 the united nations collective security system1561

resolutions. However, even though the exact legal basis of these inter-
ventions may still be heavily debated, they do underscore a tendency in
practice to shift the primary responsibility for collective enforcement
to regional organisations away from the Security Council.
A similar tendency can be observed in relation to NATO, where the
adoption of the broad security mandate in Security Council Resolution
1244 of 10 June 1999 in relation to Kosovo has resulted in submissions
that this resolution would also serve as an ex post facto authorization of
the (unauthorized) military air campaign that was waged before the
adoption of this resolution.34 However, the wording of the resolution
makes no reference to the air campaign and is of a prospective nature.
In addition, two permanent members of the Security Council (China
and Russia) persistently opposed the military air campaign throughout
its duration. It is therefore unlikely that this resolution constitutes evi-
dence of an ex post facto authorization of the air campaign.35 Even so,
the behaviour of NATO in Kosovo illustrates the tendency of regional
(defence) organisations to take matters of collective security into their
own hands where the Security Council is unable to authorize such
action due to the veto.
The NATO military intervention in Kosovo in 1999 gave new
momentum to the debate as to whether unilateral military intervention
in a third State for the purpose of protecting (certain segments of) the
population against serious human rights violations was in violation of
Article 2(4) of the Charter. This debate was fuelled by official state-
ments of inter alia the European Union (EU), according to which the
NATO intervention was intended to put an end to the humanitarian
catastrophe in Kosovo.36 At issue was not whether the Security Council
had the authority to authorize the use of force in order to prevent wide-
spread and systematic human rights atrocities. Instead, the question
concerned the legality under international law of a military interven-
tion by States or groups of States in situations where the Security
Council is unable to act against widespread human rights atrocities due
to the (threat of) the exercise of the veto by one or more permanent

34
R. Wedgewood, NATO’s Campaign in Yugoslavia, 93 American Journal of
International Law 828, at 830 (1999).
35
B. Simma, NATO, the UN and the Use of Force: Legal Aspects, 10 European
Journal of International Law 1, at 11 (1999); Villani (note 31), at 584.
36
Presidency Conclusions, Part III, Statement by the European Council on Kosovo,
25 March 1999, available at http://ue.eu.int/ueDocs/cms_Data/docs/pressData/en/ec/
ACFB2.html.
1562 erika de wet

members. In essence, the question was whether a right to humanitar-

ian intervention existed under customary international law and consti-
tuted an exception to the prohibition of the use of force.
Although the dominant opinion amongst legal scholars is that such
a right does not yet exist under customary international law, the issue
remains controversial.37 Subsequent to the Kosovo intervention the
discourse has changed from humanitarian intervention to the respon-
sibility to protect (R2P) in the wake of an influential report with the
same title that was published by the Canadian sponsored International
Commission on Intervention and State Sovereignty in 2001.38 In
accordance with the notion of R2P, every State has the primary respon-
sibility to protect its own population, as this obligation follows from
State sovereignty. Where a State fails to protect its population against
suffering or serious harm that results from internal armed conflict, the
international community has a residual responsibility to do so. In such
circumstances the principle of non-intervention yields to the interna-
tional responsibility to protect.39
The line of argument has essentially been endorsed by the Secretary-
General. In doing so, he nonetheless underscored that in those circum-
stances it is the responsibility of the Security Council to authorize
protection of the population, if necessary by military force.40 This
would imply that there is no scope for States or regional (defence)
organizations to engage in military action for protective purposes in
the absence of a Security Council authorization. However, the inclu-
sion of Article 4(h) in the Constitutive Act of the African Union in
2000 could serve as an indication that States are in the process of claim-
ing such a right for themselves (at least in the context of regional
organisations). If and to the extent that such a right is practiced and
accepted by States in the future, it will be a further indication of the

37
Simma (note 35), at 1 et seq.; A. Cassese, “Ex iniuria ius oritur”: Are We Moving
towards International Legitimation of Forcible Humanitarian Countermeasures in the
World Community?, 10 European Journal of International Law 23 (1999). For a recent
analysis see A. Peters, Humanity as the Alpha and Omega of Sovereignty, 20 European
Journal of International Law 569, at 513 et seq. (2009); C. Greenwood, International
Law and the NATO Intervention in Kosovo, 49(4) International and Comparative Law
Quarterly 926, at 926 et seq. (2000).
38
ICISS Report (note 10), at 16–17.
39
Id., at 17; see generally also C. Stahn, Responsibility to Protect: Political Rhetoric
or Emerging Legal Norm?, 101 American Journal of International Law 99, at 99 et seq.
(2007).
40
In Larger Freedom (note 6), at para. 135; World Summit Outcome (note 16), at
para. 79.
 the united nations collective security system1563

weakening of the Security Council as the primary and central authority

in the maintenance of international peace and security.

C. The Evolving Scope of the Right to Self-Defence

The scope of the right to self-defence has remained a highly controver-

sial issue, ever since the adoption of the Charter system. The contro-
versy pertains to the permitted duration of the right to self-defence,
the threshold that has to be crossed in order to trigger the right of
self-defence, as well as the entities against which self-defence can be
undertaken.
According to the restrictive line of argument that regards the Security
Council as the cornerstone of the collective security system, the right
to self-defence is intended to be exercised only in exceptional circum-
stances.41 Article 51 suggests that it has a temporary character, to be
exercised only until the Security Council itself authorizes measures
necessary for the restoration of international peace and security. In
addition, it is subjected to a strict principle of proportionality and
necessity. This line of argument acknowledges that the term “until” in
Article 51 does not necessarily imply an automatic suspension of the
exercise of the right to self-defence, once the Security Council has
adopted any type of resolution. For example, a resolution merely call-
ing on an aggressor to withdraw would still allow the victim state to
defend itself militarily, as anything else would be severely detrimental
to it if the aggressor ignored the Security Council’s call.42
Moreover, the right to self-defence could also continue to be exer-
cised when the response of the Security Council to an armed attack
does not include an authorization to use force and also does not call for
a cease-fire, or demand a cessation of military action by all parties
involved.43 In the case of Iraq, for example, the Security Council explic-
itly affirmed Kuwait’s inherent right of individual or collective self-
defence, when it adopted economic sanctions in Security Council
Resolution 661 of 6 August 1990. Similarly, in the wake of the terrorist
attacks in the United States on 11 September 2001, the Security Council

41
De Wet (note 4), at 263 et seq.
42
T. D. Gill, Legal and Some Political Limitations on the Power of the UN Security
Council to Exercise its Enforcement Powers under Chapter VII of the Charter,
26 Netherlands Yearbook of International Law 33, at 99–100 (1995).
43
Id., at 100.
1564 erika de wet

explicitly recognized the inherent right of individual or collective

self-defence in the preamble of Security Council Resolution 1368 of
12 September 2001, but refrained from authorizing military measures
to restore or maintain international peace and security. Several weeks
after the adoption of this resolution, the United States relied on the
right to self-defence when launching air attacks against Al-Qaeda in
the territory of Afghanistan.
However, in accordance with the restrictive line of argument, the
right of self-defence is suspended once the Security Council authorizes
the use of force in the interest of international peace and security. For
example, in relation to Iraq, the Security Council eventually adopted
Security Council Resolution 678 of 29 November 1990, which author-
ized member States co-operating with the Government of Kuwait to
use all necessary means to uphold and implement Security Council
Resolution 660 of 2 August 1990 and all subsequent relevant resolu-
tions, and to restore international peace and security in the area.
Similarly in Afghanistan the Security Council eventually adopted
Security Council Resolution 1386 of 20 December 2001, which author-
ized member States to use all necessary means to maintain security in
Kabul and its surrounding areas. This mandate was subsequently
extended in Security Council Resolution 1510 of 13 October 2003 to
include areas outside of Kabul and its environs. Since the adoption of
these resolutions in relation to Iraq and Afghanistan respectively, the
legal basis for the use of force in the designated areas stemmed from
Articles 42 and 48 of the Charter. As a result, States could not engage in
any (additional) individual military activity in these areas on the basis
of Article 51 of the Charter, as this would undermine the central role of
the Security Council in relation to collective military enforcement.44
This narrow interpretation is disputed by some, notably the United
States, who did not regard the right to exercise self-defence parallel to
Security Council measures as extinguished in Iraq, as this was never
explicitly determined by the Security Council.45 The duration of the
United States’ air campaign in Afghanistan since late 2001 is a further
case in point. It illustrates that the United States still relies on the right

44
De Wet (note 4), at 264; Case Concerning Oil Platforms (Islamic Republic of Iran
v. United States of America), ICJ Reports 2003, 161, para. 64; Case Concerning Military
and Paramilitary Activities in and against Nicaragua (Nicaragua v. the United States of
America), ICJ Reports 1986, 14, para. 191.
45
Fassbender (note 14), at 188.
 the united nations collective security system1565

to self-defence in relation to Operation Enduring Freedom, parallel to

the Security Council mandate exercised by NATO forces.46 This indi-
cates the marginalizing impact that the protracted exercise of the right
to self-defence can have on the Security Council. This risk is particu-
larly high where the State relying on the right to self-defence is a per-
manent member of the Security Council, which could prevent the
adoption of a resolution that would either explicitly terminate the right
to self-defence or bring the military operation under the control of the
Security Council. In addition, such a long duration is difficult to recon-
cile with a strict notion of proportionality and necessity.
As far as the threshold for triggering the right of self-defence is
concerned, controversy remains as to what type of situations consti-
tutes an armed attack in accordance with Article 51 of the Charter.
According to the dominant opinion, only the gravest forms of military
force in violation of Article 2(4) of the Charter constitute an armed
attack.47 However, States such as the United States and Israel have per-
sistently interpreted the notion of armed attack in accordance with a
lower threshold of military force.48 In addition, there is support for
allowing a victim State to resort to narrowly tailored measures of force,
where it has been subjected to illegal use of force which does not
amount to an armed attack and would therefore not justify collective
self-defence.49
An additional threshold controversy concerns the extent to which
anticipatory self-defence is allowed under international law. On the
one hand, there seems to be extensive support within the United
Nations system for the exercise of the right to anticipatory self-defence
in the face of an imminent threat of large-scale use of force, where no
other means would deflect it and the action is proportionate.50 However,
most States remain opposed to the security strategy of the United States
that was presented by the (then) President Bush in September 2002.
In accordance with the “Bush-doctrine”, the United States will not
only take preventive action in the face of imminent threats to national

46
Gowlland-Debbas (note 2), at 269.
47
Case Concerning Military and Paramilitary Activities in and against Nicaragua
(note 44), at para. 191.
48
Gowlland-Debbas (note 2), at 269.
49
See Separate Opinion of Judge Simma, Case Concerning Oil Platforms (note 44),
at para. 13.
50
In Larger Freedom (note 6), at paras. 124–125; Franck (note 18), at 25.
1566 erika de wet

security, but also pre-emptive action where necessary to forestall hos-

tile acts.51
The events of 11 September 2001 also gave new momentum to the
debate whether non-State entities whose actions cannot be attributed
to a State can autonomously commit an armed attack against a State, as
a result of which the latter has the possibility to retaliate in self-
defence.52 In accordance with the traditional position under interna-
tional law, the military action of non-State entities such as private
individuals would only constitute a basis for the exercise of self-defence
where it amounts to an armed attack that is attributable to a State under
international law.53 It remains debatable, however, whether the attacks
by Al-Qaeda were indeed attributable to the (at that time) de facto
Taliban government in Afghanistan. If so, the subsequent military
action undertaken by the United States would (at least initially) have
fallen within the traditional parameters of self-defence. To the extent
that this was not the case, the military action which enjoyed wide
international support at the time it was initiated, may be an indication
that the scope of self-defence is widening to include also non-State
actors as targets. This position has, however, not yet been endorsed by
the majority of the International Court of Justice which still adheres to
the position that self-defence is to be exercised against one State by
another.54
Nonetheless, some members of the Court seem to support an
expanded notion of self-defence that allows for military action against
non-State entities, regardless of whether the action can be attributed to
another State. They have drawn attention to the fact that Article 51 of
the Charter does not provide that an armed attack must originate
exclusively from a State.55 In addition, the Security Council itself seems

51
The White House, The National Security Strategy of the United Sates of America,
September 2002, available at http://www.whitehouse.gov/nsc/nss.pdf.
52
Gowlland-Debbas (note 2), at 269.
53
Case Concerning Military and Paramilitary Activities in and against Nicaragua
(note 44), para. 195.
54
Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian
Territory (Advisory Opinion), ICJ Reports 2004, 136, para. 139; Case Concerning
Armed Activities on the Territory of the Congo (Democratic Republic of the Congo v.
Uganda), ICJ Reports 2005, paras. 146–148.
55
See Separate Opinion of Judge Higgins, Legal Consequences of the Construction
of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian Territory (note 54), paras. 33–34; Separate
Opinion of Judge Kooijmans, id., para. 35; Declaration of Judge Buergenthal, id.,
paras. 5–6; Separate Opinion of Judge Simma, Case Concerning Armed Activities on the
Territory of the Congo (note 54), paras. 11–12. Judge Simma’s Separate Opinion also
 the united nations collective security system1567

to have embraced a notion that allows for self-defence against non-

State actors inter alia in Security Council Resolution 1386 of
20 December 2001, as it reaffirmed the right to individual and collec-
tive self-defence without making any reference to an armed attack by a
State.56
In summary, these ongoing attempts to expand the scope of the right
to self-defence, whether in relation to its duration, threshold or objects
all pose major challenges to a collective security system in which the
Security Council as a collective entity controls the initiation and termi-
nation of the use of military force. With each expansion of the notion
of self-defence, the collective security system is weakened in favour of
the unilateral use of force exercised under the exclusive control of the
States affected.

D. Conclusion

The Charter system of collective security has undergone significant

evolution since its inception in 1945. Especially since the end of the
Cold War, the authorization model by means of which the use of mili-
tary force on behalf of the United Nations is delegated to willing and
able States or regional (defence) organisations has become a well estab-
lished substitute for the Article 43 agreements foreseen in the Charter.
In the post-Cold War era it provides a pragmatic way to facilitate mili-
tary operations in a fashion that also takes account of the military com-
plexities surrounding a military intervention, such as the need for
unified command and control.
At the same time, the central role of the Security Council in main-
taining international peace and security is facing significant challenges,

finds resonance in domestic court practice, notably Beit Sourik Village Council v. The
Commander of the IDF Forces in the West Bank, HCJ 2056/04, 30 June 2004 ILDC 16
(IL 2004) (Israel Supreme Court), paras. 28–30.
56
See extensively R. Van Steenberghe, Self-Defence in Response to Attacks by Non-
state Actors in the Light of Recent State Practice: A Step Forward?, 23 Leiden Journal
of International Law 183, at 183 et seq. (2010). He explores the reaction of States to
recent military actions in response to attacks by non-state actors in which no state
could be considered as being substantially involved. These included notably the inva-
sion of Lebanon by Israel in July 2006 to put an end to rocket attacks by Hezbollah; the
launch of a major operation by Turkey in Iraq in February 2009 in order to stop attacks
by the Kurdistan Worker’s Party (PKK); as well as the Israeli military offensive in Gaza
in December 2008 in order to put a stop to the firing of missiles at Israel from
Palestinian territory.
1568 erika de wet

not in the least due to the persistent (perception of the) abuse of the
veto by the permanent members. As a result, there is a tendency
amongst economically and militarily strong States and regional
(defence) organisations to circumvent the (perceived) ineffective­
ness by the Security Council through various mechanisms. These
range from the expansive interpretation of the scope of the right to
­self-defence, to attempts to develop new customary exceptions to
Article 2(4) of the Charter, such as a residual right of intervention for
regional (defence) organisations and the right of States to exercise a
“responsibility to protect” in instances of genocide, crimes against
humanity and war crimes. Although most of these developments are
still highly controversial and not yet widely accepted by States, their
persistent presence in the discourse implies a weakening of the central
authority of the Security Council in the maintenance of international
peace and security.
Finally, it is worth noting that since the Kosovo intervention there
has been a re-ignition of the debate as to whether there could be a role
for the General Assembly in instances where the Security Council fails
to authorize the use of force in the face of widespread human rights
atrocities. At first sight, such a role would seem to constitute a clear
violation of Article 11(2) of the Charter, which reserves (all aspects of)
enforcement action exclusively to the Security Council.57 One could,
however, attempt to justify such a role with the argument that the
General Assembly would be exercising an emergency role for which it
had already set a precedent with the adoption of the 1950 Uniting for
Peace Resolution at the time of the Korean War.58 If the General
Assembly were to claim such a role for itself in practice, it could pre-
vent a further regionalization or unilateralization of collective enforce-
ment at the expense of the authority of the United Nations. However,
for the time being there has not been any attempt on the part of the
General Assembly to revive its role in this regard, and it is up to the
Security Council to reassert the central role of the United Nations in
terms of collective enforcement.

57
Certain Expenses of the United Nations (Advisory Opinion), ICJ Reports 1962,
151, 178.
58
GA Res. 377(V) of 3 November 1950; I. Österdahl, The Continued Relevance of
Collective Security Under the UN: The Security Council, Regional Organizations and
the General Assembly, 11 Finnish Yearbook of International Law 103, at 103 (2002).
 Japan’s Contribution to International Peace
and its Political and Legal Background

Shunji Yanai

A. Introduction

The Constitution of 1946 stipulated the renunciation of war as one of

the basic principles of post-war Japan and pacifism deeply rooted in
the mind of the Japanese people. For the overwhelming majority of
Japanese and for many years after World War II, pacifism has been
understood to mean that Japan should not become a major military
power and not take aggressive policies towards foreign countries. This
is the right posture for Japan and should remain as the basic principle
of the nation. This kind of pacifism could be described as “passive paci-
fism”. Under this basic principle, Japan became a truly peace loving
country and, for more than half a century, never disturbed the peace
and security of the Asia Pacific region, let alone other regions of the
world. It should be admitted that this is in itself an important contribu-
tion by Japan to world peace. On the other hand, it is not deniable that
“passive pacifism” gave rise to the reluctance of the Japanese people to
get involved in any international conflict even if a more active contri-
bution by Japan was called for by the international community, par-
ticularly through the United Nations, in its endeavour to restore or
maintain peace. These efforts include various activities which may even
entail the use of force under certain circumstances. For decades, the
Japanese people have not been well aware of another kind of pacifism
which could be called “active pacifism”. When the Gulf Crisis occurred
in 1990, the Japanese people were not prepared to manage it and fell
into disarray. But the crisis gave them the opportunity to think afresh
about the stark reality of international relations and to become aware of
the need for them to contribute more actively to the making and main-
tenance of world peace. This paper will deal first with the history of
Japan’s peace-keeping operations, and secondly with the features of the
International Peace Cooperation Law of 1992. It will then discuss
Japan’s peace operations other than peace-keeping operations and their
legal framework, and touch upon the constitutional constraints to
1570 shunji yanai

Japan’s peace operations and efforts to change the interpretation of

Article 9 of the Constitution.

B. History of Japan’s Peace-keeping Operations

I. Japan’s Unsuccessful Attempt in 1958

The Law concerning Cooperation for United Nations Peace-keeping
Operations and Other Operations, commonly known as the Inter­
national Peace Cooperation Law of 1992,1 enabled Japan to participate
in UN peace-keeping operations including a military component.
Under this law, Japan participated in a big way in the United Nations
Transitional Authority in Cambodia (UNTAC) by dispatching a
Ground Self Defence Force engineer battalion, military observers,
civilian police officers and election monitors.2 It was the first time that
Japan had sent a unit and individual officers of the Self Defence Forces
abroad as peace-keepers. In the nearly two decades since the Law was
enacted, Japan has participated in 12 UN peace-keeping operations,
and conducted 5 international humanitarian relief operations and 9
international election monitoring activities managed by the United
Nations and other international organizations.
The fact that the International Peace Cooperation Law was enacted
as late as 1992 may give the impression that Japan started considering
participation in peace-keeping operations only in the last decade of the
20th century, but this question had been addressed once before, in
1958. In that year, the United Nations Security Council adopted a reso-
lution establishing the United Nations Observer Group in Lebanon
(UNOGIL). At that time, Japan, which was a non-permanent member
of the Security Council, was represented by Ambassador Koto
Matsudaira, then Permanent Representative of Japan to the United
Nations. Ambassador Matsudaira played an active part in the prepara-
tion and adoption of the above-mentioned resolution for which Japan
voted in the affirmative. After the resolution was adopted, the then

1
1992 Law No.79. The full text of the Law in English translation appears in the
Japanese Annual of International Law, No.36, at 272–289 (1993).
2
 A 600 strong engineer battalion (with another battalion in replacement), 8 mili-
tary observers (with 8 more officers in replacement), 75 police officers and 41 civilian
election monitors, all from Japan, participated in UNTAC.
 japan’s contribution to international peace1571

Secretary-General Dag Hammerskjold sounded out the Japanese

Government, through Ambassador Matsudaira, as to whether Japan
would send military observers to Lebanon. The Government of Japan
was, however, not in a position to give the Secretary-General an affirm-
ative answer. 1958 was only four years after the Self Defence Forces had
been established and the nation was in the midst of a heated debate on
the question of amending and extending the Japan-U.S. Security Treaty.
It was, therefore, politically unthinkable that Japan should dispatch
military observers to UNOGIL.

II. Impact of the 1990/1991 Gulf War

Even after this Lebanon issue was closed, the Ministry of Foreign
Affairs of Japan continued to study various aspects of peace-keeping
operations and canvassed the opinions of scholars on the matter, but
the studies remained essentially academic until the Gulf Crisis broke
out. On 29 August 1990, the then Prime Minister Toshiki Kaifu
announced a package of measures the Government of Japan intended
to take in order to contribute to the efforts of the international com-
munity to restore peace in the Gulf Area and assist the people affected
by the Gulf Crisis. This package comprised providing transportation,
materials and medical care to support the Coalition Forces, economic
assistance for the countries in the Gulf Area affected by the crisis and
humanitarian relief for evacuees. Prime Minister Kaifu also launched
the idea of presenting a bill which would authorize the Government of
Japan to give the Coalition Forces logistic support.
On the basis of Prime Minister Kaifu’s statement, the Government of
Japan quickly prepared a “Bill on Peace Cooperation with the United
Nations” and presented it to the House of Representatives (the Lower
House) on 17 October 1990. The Bill contained provisions concern-
ing logistic support for the Coalition Forces, certain peace-keeping
operations activities and humanitarian assistance, authorizing the
Government to use the Self Defence Forces for such purposes. The
most controversial point was the dispatch abroad of Self Defence Forces
units, even though the mission was limited to non-combat logistical
support for the Coalition Forces. In the view of the Government and
the Liberal Democratic Party, then the majority party, the dispatch
abroad of units or personnel of the Self Defence Forces for such pur-
poses was permitted under Article 9 of the Japanese Constitution,
which prohibits the threat or use of force, but some of the opposition
1572 shunji yanai

parties doubted this interpretation. These opposition parties strongly

objected to the Bill, both from a constitutional point of view and
from the policy appropriateness of becoming more directly involved
in the Gulf Crisis. In the face of the very strong opposition to the
Bill, the Government and the Liberal Democratic Party decided
to withdraw the Bill after about three weeks of heated debate in the
Special Committee of the House of Representatives. Nevertheless, on 9
November 1990, just before the Bill was formally withdrawn, the
Secretaries-General of the Liberal Democratic Party, the Komeito3 and
the Japan Democratic Socialist Party4 agreed to cooperate in the prepa-
ration of a new bill, the scope of which would be limited to peace-
keeping operations and humanitarian relief operations.

III. Gulf War to PKO

Thus, the attempt by the Government and the Liberal Democratic
Party, then the ruling party, to create a legal and institutional frame-
work for providing the Coalition Forces with logistic support did not
succeed, and ended in the withdrawal of the Bill. The heated and
intense debate in the Special Committee of the House of Representatives
did, however, have some positive results.
First, as mentioned earlier, this exercise produced an unprece­
dented three-party agreement on the preparation of a new bill on
peace-keeping and humanitarian relief operations. Secondly, as a result
of delib­erations both within and outside the Diet (Parliament), the
Japanese people became more aware of the need to participate directly
in peace-keeping or humanitarian operations by sending military or
civilian personnel, rather than merely making financial contributions
to United Nations activities. Thirdly, for the first time, serious debate
took place in the Diet on a possible new role for the Self Defence Forces
in addition to the defence of Japan itself, and on the question of the
extent to which such a role would be permitted by the Constitution.
It was against this background that the International Peace Cooperation
Bill was presented to the Diet and adopted by it in 1992.

3
The Komeito is a Buddhist oriented moderate party which was in opposition when
the Bill was discussed in the Diet.
4
The Japan Democratic Socialist Party was another small moderate opposition
party which was dissolved in 1994.
 japan’s contribution to international peace1573

Since Japan had no experience of peace-keeping operations before

1992, except in the field of election monitoring, the International Peace
Cooperation Law was drafted on the basis of information collected
from the United Nations Secretariat and a number of countries which
had abundant experience in peace-keeping operations. It was, there-
fore, deemed necessary from the outset that in the future the
Government of Japan should review the Law, drawing on Japan’s own
experience gained from actual participation in peace-keeping opera-
tions and international humanitarian relief operations. The Law has a
review clause in Article III of the Additional Provisions which pro-
vides, “Upon the passage of three years after the entry into force of this
Law, the Government shall carry out a review concerning the arrange-
ments for the execution of the Law in the light of the state of the actual
implementation of this Law.” The Government of Japan reviewed the
Law in 1995 and 1996, and recommended that several of its provisions
be amended. The amendments were proposed by the Government and
adopted by the Diet in 1998.
There was another issue relating to Japan’s lack of experience in
peace-keeping operations. During the parliamentary debate on the
International Peace Cooperation Bill, a number of Diet members, who
were basically in favour of the Bill, expressed the cautious view that
Japan should not carry out the “peace-keeping forces” assignments
provided for in the Bill until she had gained sufficient experience from
actual participation in UN peace-keeping operations, and they pro-
posed “freezing” the implementation of the provisions concerning
“peace-keeping forces” assignments. The term “peace-keeping forces”
is neither clearly defined nor often used internationally, but was under-
stood in Japan to mean infantry or other units carrying small arms
which are given such missions as monitoring the observance of a cease-
fire, being stationed in and patrolling buffer zones, inspection or iden-
tification of the carrying in or out of weapons, disposal of abandoned
weapons and so forth. The proponents of the idea of “freezing” the
“peace-keeping forces” assignments maintained that in these assign-
ments Japanese peace keepers from the Self Defence Forces would be
more likely to be placed in situations which may entail the use of weap-
ons. Since the question to what extent Japanese peace-keepers should
be allowed to use weapons was the most sensitive issue in relation
to Article 9 of the Japanese Constitution, this proposal was carried and,
as a result, the implementation of the provisions concerning “peace-
keeping forces” assignments was “frozen” until a date to be set in a
1574 shunji yanai

separate law (Article II of the Additional Provisions). Thus, the

“defreezing5 of these provisions became a subject of review by the
Government of Japan.

C. Features of the International Peace Cooperation

Law of 1992

I. Three Basic Issues

Before starting the drafting of a bill on peace-keeping and humani­
tarian operations (the International Peace Cooperation Bill), the
Government of Japan had to settle the following three basic issues:
(a) the organizational question whether the Self Defence Forces would
carry out these operations themselves or a separate organization would
be established specifically for such operations; (b) the compatibility
between the use of weapons normally allowed on UN peace-keeping
operations and the prohibition on the use of force under Article 9 of
the Japanese Constitution; and (c) the question whether or not the dis-
patch of Self Defence Forces units should be subject to parliamentary
approval.

II. Organizational Question

As to the first issue, namely the organizational question, the Liberal
Democratic Party, the Komeito and the Japan Democratic Socialist
Party which were in favour of Japan’s participation in peace-keeping
operations originally agreed to establish an organization separate from
the Self Defence Forces with the task of carrying out peace-keeping,
humanitarian relief and disaster relief operations. This idea was intro-
duced in consideration of a certain hesitation within the Komeito
about using the Self Defence Forces as such for these operations abroad,
and also in the hope that a separate organization would gain wider sup-
port from other parties. The above-mentioned three parties and the
Government, however, abandoned the idea of establishing a separate
organization for the following reasons: the Self Defence Forces are the
most self-sustaining organization suitable for the unstable situation

5
 As a result of the review carried out by the Government of Japan, some minor
amendments were made in 1998 and the freezing of the provisions on “peace-keeping
forces” was lifted in 2001. Thus, the provisions on these activities which constitute the
core of peace-keeping operations became operative.
 japan’s contribution to international peace1575

immediately after a cease-fire; the establishment of a new separate

organization would be redundant and entail a considerable duplication
of investment; public support for the Self Defence Forces was steadily
increasing; other opposition parties, particularly the Socialist Party of
Japan, would not support the Bill anyway, even if the Self Defence
Forces were replaced by a new separate organization.

III. Use of Weapons on PKO Missions

The most controversial was the second issue which is related to the
compatibility between the use of weapons normally allowed on UN
peace-keeping operations and the prohibition of the use of force under
Article 9 of the Japanese Constitution.6 This issue arose especially in
connection with the question whether or not provisions concerning
“peace-keeping forces” mentioned above should be included in the Bill,
since the assignments of these forces were considered to be more likely
to entail the use of weapons. The precedents of UN peace-keeping
operations up to 1991 when the Bill was presented to the Diet indicated
that traditional peace-keeping operations were initiated and carried
out on certain premises: (a) the existence of a cease-fire agreement
between the belligerent parties; (b) the consent of the parties and the
host country to accept UN peace-keeping operations in their territo-
ries; (c) the strict impartiality of the operations; and (d) the restricted
use of weapons by UN peace-keepers. As to the last point, the estab-
lished UN practice was that peace-keeping components such as “peace-
keeping forces” are authorized to use their small arms only in
accordance with strictly defined procedures, and only when the lives of
peace-keepers are threatened or their mission is obstructed by force by
an aggressive party.
On the other hand, Article 9 of the Japanese Constitution is inter-
preted as prohibiting the dispatching of the Self Defence Forces abroad
on any mission which may entail the use of force. In this connection,
the drafters of the Bill had to settle the following issues regarding the

6
Chapter II, Renunciation of War, Article 9 (The Constitution of Japan):
Aspiring sincerely to an international peace based on justice and order, the Japanese
people forever renounce war as a sovereign right of the nation and the threat or use of
force as means of settling international disputes.
In order to accomplish the aim of the preceding paragraph, land, sea and air forces,
as well as other war potential, will never be maintained. The right of belligerency of the
State will not be recognized.
1576 shunji yanai

“use of force”: first, is the use of weapons allowed under the UN PKO
practice not to be considered as a use of force prohibited under Article
9 of the Japanese Constitution? Secondly, if the cease-fire agreement is
broken, or the consent of the host country or the belligerent parties is
withdrawn, will the Japanese units participating in UN peace-keeping
forces not become involved in armed conflict once fighting is resumed
between the belligerent parties? And, thirdly, can Japan withdraw its
units from UN peace-keeping forces when any of the essential prem-
ises of peace-keeping operations no longer exists even though the
United Nations continues its operations?
The drafting group consisting of officials of the Ministry of Foreign
Affairs, the Defence Agency, the Cabinet Councillor’s Office on
External Affairs and the National Legislation Bureau of the Prime
Minister’s Cabinet thoroughly examined and discussed these issues
and came to the following conclusions: as to the first issue, the National
Legislation Bureau, which is responsible for the interpretation of the
Constitution within the Government, concluded that the use of weap-
ons for self-defence by Japanese peace-keepers when their lives are
threatened should not be considered as the use of force prohibited
under Article 9 of the Japanese Constitution, while doubting the con-
stitutionality of their use of weapons to prevent possible obstruction by
force of their mission by an aggressive party. In the latter case, namely,
the use of weapons by UN peace-keepers against an aggressive party,
the drafters concluded that the difference between the use of weapons
by peace-keepers in these two cases was not significant in practice. This
conclusion was drawn from the history of UN peace-keeping opera-
tions which showed that, in most cases where an aggressive party used
force to obstruct a UN mission, the lives of peace-keepers were also
endangered.
The second issue was studied because, if the cease-fire agreement
breaks down or the consent of the host country or the belligerent par-
ties is withdrawn and armed conflict resumes between the parties, UN
peace-keeping forces may become involved in such conflict, which
may entail more serious types of use of weapons by peace-keeping
forces. In such a case, it was feared that the use of weapons would esca-
late beyond the degree of self-defence by peace-keepers permitted
under Article 9 of the Constitution. This question is, however, related
to the third question concerning the suspension or termination of
peace-keeping operations or withdrawal therefrom, since the suspen-
sion, termination or withdrawal might resolve the question of getting
 japan’s contribution to international peace1577

involved in armed conflict between the belligerent parties. As the exist-

ence of a cease-fire agreement and the consent of the host country or
the belligerent parties to accept UN peace-keeping operations is the
very basis of traditional peace-keeping operations, it is to be expected
that the United Nations would suspend or terminate the operations
concerned if any of such premises ceased to exist. In such an extreme
and obvious case, the judgment of the United Nations and that of indi-
vidual troop-contributing member countries may coincide. Therefore,
the real issue is whether or not a contributing country can withdraw its
contingent when it considers that the cease-fire agreement or the con-
sent of the host country or the belligerent parties no longer exists, even
if the United Nations holds a different view and continues its opera-
tions. It was considered possible that a contributing country might
withdraw its contingent at its own discretion as a last resort, especially
when any of the basic premises of peace-keeping operations ceases to
exist. This assessment was arrived at in the light of the fact that there
had been several cases where troop-contributing countries withdrew
their troops for one reason or another, though the peace-keeping oper-
ations as such were not terminated, and that there was a provision
reflecting established UN practice in the model agreement7 prepared
by the UN secretariat to be concluded between contributing countries
and the United Nations to the effect that such countries shall give prior
notice before they withdraw their contingents.

IV. PKO Five Principles

In view of the UN practice in various peace-keeping operations estab-
lished after the operation in Congo and as a result of the considerations
mentioned above, the Government of Japan formulated the following
guidelines for Japan’s participation in UN peace-keeping forces on the
basis of which relevant provisions should be drafted into the Bill. The
“guidelines” became better known as the “PKO five principles”.

7
The UN Secretariat prepared a model agreement between the United Nations
and member States contributing personnel and equipment to United Nations peace-
keeping operations, and distributed it as an attachment to the Report of the Secretary-
General on 23 May 1991 (A/46/185). The following paragraph of the model agreement
provides for notification of withdrawal:
IX. Notification of withdrawal
26. The Government (of a participating State) shall not withdraw its personnel
(from the United Nations peace-keeping operation) without giving adequate
prior notification to the Secretary-General of the United Nations.
1578 shunji yanai

Guidelines for Japan’s participation in United Nations Peace-keeping

Forces
1. Agreement on a cease-fire shall have been reached among the par-
ties to the conflict.
2. The parties to the conflict, including the territorial State(s), shall
have given their consent to the deployment of peace-keeping forces
and Japan’s participation in such forces.
3. The peace-keeping forces shall strictly maintain impartiality, not
favoring any party to the conflict.
4. Should any of the above guideline requirements cease to be satis-
fied, the Government of Japan may withdraw its contingent.
5. Use of weapons shall be limited to the minimum necessary to pro-
tect personnel’s lives, etc.
These “Five Principles” provided the answers to the above-mentioned
questions relating to the Japanese Constitution and formed the basis
for the drafting of the Bill. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Japan sent
a mission to New York to explain these principles to the UN Secretariat,
which found them to be acceptable as the principles governing Japanese
participation in UN peace-keeping operations. It should be noted in
this connection that these Five Principles later became the general
principles underlying all Japanese participation in UN peace-keeping
operations, and not just “peace-keeping forces”. Therefore, the
Government must ascertain that these guiding principles are met when
it decides whether or not Japan should participate in a particular peace-
keeping operation. As mentioned earlier, these five basic principles are
the basis on which the International Peace Cooperation Law was
drafted. The spirit of these principles can be found throughout the law,
but they have been translated into more legal or technical language in
the actual legislative provisions.

V. Civilian Oversight of the Overseas Dispatch of Military Personnel

The third basic issue which had to be settled was the following: how to
ensure civilian oversight of Self Defence Forces units participating in
peace-keeping operations? Should the dispatch of such units be subject
to parliamentary approval? On this issue, there were two differing
schools of thought.
First, the Government held the view that it would suffice to incorpo-
rate the above-mentioned “Five Principles” in the Bill, since these prin-
ciples would determine the Government’s decision whether or not the
 japan’s contribution to international peace1579

Self Defence Forces units should be sent on a particular PKO mission.

According to this view, such a decision should not be subject to parlia-
mentary approval, as that would prevent the Government from making
a quick decision. Consequently, the Bill presented by the Government
did not contain any provisions concerning parliamentary approval,
providing only for reporting to the Diet. The Liberal Democratic Party
and the Komeito supported this view of the Government.
The second school of thought, represented by the Japan Democratic
Socialist Party, was shared by some members of the Liberal Democratic
Party. They considered that the dispatch of Self Defence Forces units
abroad on peace-keeping force missions, even if armed only with small
arms for self-defence, requires the utmost caution and should be placed
under strong civilian oversight, namely approval of the Diet should be
required.
As a result of negotiations between the proponents of the above-
mentioned two schools of thought and as a compromise, it was agreed
in the House of Representatives (the Lower House) to add a new para-
graph to Article VI of the Bill to the effect that the Government shall
obtain the approval of the Diet when it intends to continue to ­operate on
a particular “peace-keeping forces” mission more than two years after
the initial participation. In the House of Councillors (the Upper House),
however, it was further agreed among the parties in favour of the Bill to
include a more straightforward paragraph in the same Article VI.8 This
new paragraph provided in substance that the Government shall obtain
prior approval from the Diet regarding the dispatch of the Self Defence
Forces units on a “peace-keeping forces” mission.

D. Japan’s Peace Operations other than Peace-keeping

Operations and their Legal Framework

I. Japan’s Response to the 9/11 Terrorist Attacks

Japan’s peace-keeping and international humanitarian relief operations
have been conducted under the International Peace Cooperation Law

8
 Article VI, paragraph 7, of the Law requires the approval of the Diet for the imple-
mentation of peace-keeping forces (PKF) assignments prior to the dispatch of Self
Defence Forces units to be engaged in such assignments abroad, provided that if the
Diet is closed or the House of Representatives is dissolved, such approval shall be
sought without delay in the first Diet session following the dispatch of Self Defence
Forces units.
1580 shunji yanai

of 1992, as amended in 1998 and 2001, and these operations gradu-

ally gained stronger support from the public as Japan participated in
more operations conducted mainly under the auspices of the United
Nations. Subsequent international events, however, required Japan to
adopt additional legislation in order to carry out those peace opera-
tions which were not covered by the International Peace Cooperation
Law. These events were the 9/11 terrorist attacks of 2001 and the
coalition attack on Afghanistan led by the United States, the military
intervention by the United States and its allies in Iraq and the serious
increase in incidents of piracy which have been occurring in different
places in the world, particularly in the Gulf of Aden and off the coast of
Somalia.
In the wake of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, under the leadership of
Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi, the Government of Japan promptly
adopted a series of measures to make Japan a more active contributor
to the international efforts to fight terrorism. The centrepiece of such
measures was the enactment of the Anti-Terrorism Special Measures
Law of 2001 which enabled the Government to dispatch Maritime Self
Defence Force vessels in support of the coalition forces’ navy ships
operating in the Indian Ocean as part of the concerted international
effort to suppress terrorism in Afghanistan. Under this law, Maritime
Self Defence Force vessels provided the coalition forces with various
supplies and services, particularly fuel, for a period from 2001 to 2007.
These support activities were suspended as a result of the expiry of the
above-mentioned 2001 Law until a new law, the Replenishment
Support Special Measures Law, was enacted in 2008. While the 2001
Law provided for a wide range of logistic support activities including
the supply of fuel and other materials, transportation, communication
and medical services, the scope of the new 2008 Law was limited to the
supply of such materials as fuel and water. Despite this change, the
Maritime Self Defence Force of Japan was able to refuel Coalition
Forces’ navy vessels participating in the Operation Enduring Freedom-
Maritime Interdiction Operation in the Indian Ocean until early 2010
when the 2008 Law expired. For about eight years, Japan supplied
approximately 510 thousand kilolitres of fuel to navy vessels from 12
countries including the United States, the United Kingdom, France,
Germany and Pakistan through 939 refueling operations. These logisti-
cal support activities have not been resumed, as the new coalition
Government in which the Democratic Party of Japan leads did not
introduce any successor legislation after the expiry of the 2008 Law.
 japan’s contribution to international peace1581

II. Humanitarian Relief and Reconstruction Support in Iraq

Another important Japanese contribution to international efforts
towards peace and stability was the dispatch of Self Defence Forces
units to Iraq to provide humanitarian relief and support for the recon-
struction of Iraq during the post-conflict periods. While the
Government of Japan was able to carry out certain activities such as
transporting food aid to Iraq in response to the World Food Programme
under the existing International Peace Cooperation Law, the deploy-
ment of Self Defence Forces units to Iraq for humanitarian relief and
reconstruction support required new legislation. Accordingly, the
Government presented a bill for this purpose which was approved by
the two houses of the Diet in July 2003. The new law, “The Humanitarian
Relief and Iraqi Reconstruction Special Measures Law”, enabled Japan
to dispatch the Self Defence Forces’ ground, maritime and air units to
Iraq with the mission of implementing these measures. Japan extended
humanitarian and reconstruction assistance to Iraq in response to UN
Security Council Resolution 1483 and other related resolutions.
Security Council Resolution 1483 called for UN member States to pro-
vide medical care and other humanitarian support to the Iraqi people
and to help reconstruct post-conflict Iraq. The new Special Measures
Law entrusted the Self Defence Forces with the task of providing a vari-
ety of goods and services including medical care, the supply of food,
medicine and other necessities, infrastructure rehabilitation, helping
to support the return home of war victims and transporting goods
and equipments. A 600 strong Ground Force unit was stationed in
Samawah, Southern Iraq, from January 2004 to July 2006 and engaged
in various humanitarian and reconstruction activities. Self Defence
Forces vessels and aircraft were also dispatched to Iraq in support of
these activities.
When examining the legal framework of the two cases of Japan’s
peace operations other than peace-keeping operations, namely the
Anti-Terrorism Special Measures Law, its successor law, and the
Humanitarian Relief and Iraqi Reconstruction Special Measures Law,
the following characteristics can be observed.
First, the task of the Self Defence Forces entrusted under these laws
is to extend logistic support to foreign armed forces participating in
international peace operations or to aid local people affected by armed
conflict. Based on the long established interpretation of Article 9 of the
Japanese Constitution renouncing war, the Self Defence Forces have
1582 shunji yanai

never been given any combat mission. As mentioned above in Section

B. the Government and the then ruling party, the Liberal Democratic
Party, failed to obtain the approval of the Diet for the Bill on Peace
Cooperation with the United Nations, even though the Bill was aimed
at the dispatch of Self Defence Forces which would provide coalition
forces with logistic support during the Gulf Crisis of 1990 and 1991.
A decade or so after the Gulf Crisis, Japanese public opinion became
more receptive to the deployment of Self Defence Forces units abroad
on logistic support missions. This evolution helped the Government
and the ruling parties obtain parliamentary approval of the Anti-
Terrorism Special Measures Law, its successor law and the Special
Measures Law on Iraq.
Secondly, these laws have similar provisions concerning the use of
weapons by the members of the Self Defence Forces units dispatched
overseas. These provisions are identical in substance to the above-
mentioned three laws and contain the following rules: “[m]embers of
the Self Defence Forces in charge of cooperation and support activities,
search and rescue activities or assistance to affected people may pro-
portionately use weapons when an unavoidable and reasonable cause
exists for the use of weapons to protect the lives and bodies of them-
selves, other members of the Self Defence Forces who are with them at
the scene or those who are with them at the scene and have come under
their control while conducting their duties. The use of weapons shall
not cause harm to persons, except for cases falling under self-defence
or act of necessity.” These provisions find their root in the International
Peace Cooperation Law of 1992 (Article 24, as amended). These rules
are extremely restrictive even on the use of weapons for the defence of
Japanese military personnel participating in logistic support missions.
Furthermore, these rules do not allow Japanese personnel to use weap-
ons to help foreign units or personnel who are attacked by an aggres-
sive party and ask for assistance from Self Defence Forces’ members
participating in the same peace-keeping operations or other peace mis-
sions. These constitutional constraints will be discussed in Section E.
below.
Thirdly, unlike the International Peace Cooperation Law, the above-
mentioned three special measures laws are ad hoc laws enacted for the
purpose of coping with each specific crisis after it occurred, and not
standing and general legislation which can be applied to future crises of
certain defined categories. Generally speaking, ad hoc legislation can-
not enable the Government to commence peace operations promptly
 japan’s contribution to international peace1583

in order to contribute to the efforts of the international community to

restore and maintain peace and stability. In the case of the three special
measures laws mentioned above, legislative actions were completed in
a relatively short period of time under the coalition Government of the
Liberal Democratic Party and the Komeito, but there is no guarantee
that speedy enactment of an ad hoc law can take place in the future
under different political circumstances.

III. Anti-Piracy Measures Law

In the traditional meaning, acts of piracy do not fall within the scope of
threat against international peace and security, but it is a matter of
growing concern for the international community since such acts men-
ace the safety of navigation and human lives. Therefore, in a broader
sense, piracy is also a matter relating to international security. As one
of the major maritime nations, Japan has dispatched two destroyers
and two P3C reconnaissance aircraft to monitor piracy in the Gulf of
Aden and the area off the coast of Somalia. This effort has been con-
ducted in cooperation with a number of like-minded countries deploy-
ing their respective navy vessels and aircraft in these areas. Moreover,
Japan enacted the “Anti-Piracy Measures Law” in June 2009 to
strengthen domestic law enforcement on acts of piracy in the waters
under its national jurisdiction, and to give effect to the provisions of
the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea concerning piracy on the
high seas. The Anti-Piracy Measures Law is a new comprehensive law
the purpose of which is to prescribe punishment for acts of piracy, to
provide Japan with the necessary legal basis for appropriate and effec-
tive response to acts of piracy and thereby to maintain public safety and
order at sea. Before the enactment of this law, the suppression and pun-
ishment of acts of piracy in internal waters and the territorial sea were
governed by the Japan Coast Guard Law and the Japan Self Defence
Forces Law, and this is the first time that Japan has a comprehensive law
covering acts of piracy in different sea areas including the high seas.
The Anti-Piracy Measures Law contains a detailed definition of acts of
piracy and provides for varying degrees of punishment depending
upon the gravity of the crime perpetrated by pirates. Punishment var-
ies from imprisonment with hard labour for less than three years up to
life. In case where an act of piracy causes death, the death penalty or
imprisonment with hard labour for life is to be imposed. As to the use
of weapons, the Anti-Piracy Measures Law applies mutatis mutandis
1584 shunji yanai

the relevant provisions of the existing Japan Coast Guard Law and the
Japan Self Defence Forces Law.

E. Constitutional Constraints to Japan’s Peace Operations

and Efforts to Change the Interpretation of Article 9 of
the Constitution

I. Fundamental Difficulties for Japan’s Peace Operations

The legislative history of Japan’s peace operations referred to above
shows that every relevant bill and law encountered the same funda-
mental difficulties, which stem from Article 9 of the Japanese
Constitution or, more specifically, from too narrow an interpretation of
this article. According to the current interpretation held by the Japanese
Government, Japan possesses the right of individual self-defence under
international law and is allowed by the Constitution to exercise this
right if Japan is attacked by a foreign aggressor. On the other hand, the
Government has maintained that Japan possesses the right of collective
self-defence under international law as well, but is prohibited by the
Constitution from exercising this right. Furthermore, the Government’s
long established view is that, regarding various activities conducted
under the collective security system based on the Charter of the United
Nations, even though there is room for further consideration, Japan is
not allowed to take actions which are deemed a threat or use of force
prohibited under Article 9 of the Constitution. As a result of this nar-
row interpretation of the Constitution, the Self Defence Forces of Japan
are not allowed to participate in any international peace activities
which would entail the use of force, and even when they participate in
traditional peace-keeping operation or carry out logistic support or
humanitarian relief operations, the provisions on the use of weapons in
the relevant laws are extremely restrictive so as not to go beyond the
exercise of the individual right of self-defence. This is the case with the
International Peace Cooperation Law, the Anti-Terrorism Special
Measures Law and its successor law, and the Humanitarian Relief and
Iraqi Reconstruction Special Measures Law, as explained in sections C.
and D. The “PKO Five Principles” were also devised to keep Japan’s
peace-keeping operations within the limit of the individual right of
self-defence.
The denial of the right of collective self-defence under the interpre-
tation held by the Government also has a bearing on the Japan-U.S.
 japan’s contribution to international peace1585

Security Treaty. Under this treaty, while the United States has the obli-
gation to defend Japan when it is attacked, Japan is not obliged to
defend the United States if it is attacked but Japan is not. Under this
treaty, Japan has other obligations such as allowing the U.S. armed
forces the use of military bases in Japan, but as far as the defence obli-
gation is concerned, the treaty is not reciprocal, unlike in the case of
Germany in relation to its NATO allies.
Japan and Germany were disarmed as a result of their defeat in
World War II. In this connection, it should be noted that there have
been political and constitutional controversies in both countries con-
cerning the use of armed forces abroad on such missions as peace-
keeping operations and humanitarian relief activities. Another example
of the related issues which have been discussed in both countries is the
question of civilian oversight of armed forces, including parliamentary
approval in particular. Nevertheless, unlike Japan, it seems that
Germany does not have fundamental difficulties with peace operations
as far as the strict limitation on the use of force is concerned, since the
Grundgesetz does not contain any explicit provisions prohibiting the
use of force similar to Article 9 of the Japanese Constitution.9

II. Advisory Panel for Reconstruction of the Legal Basis for Security
While the end of the Cold War brought about fundamental changes in
the global security environment, new threats such as terrorism and the
proliferation of weapons of mass destruction were added to the list of
classic threats to security. In particular, the development of nuclear
weapons and missiles by North Korea emerged as a new and direct
threat to Japan. Unlike in Europe, the security environment in
Northeast Asia deteriorated after the end of the Cold War, forcing
Japan to respond to manifold threats. Against this background, the
then Prime Minister Shinzo Abe of the Liberal Democratic Party
decided to form a panel of experts with the task of reviewing the inter-
pretation of Article 9 of the Japanese Constitution. The panel was
named the “Advisory Panel for Reconstruction of the Legal Basis for
Security” and consisted of thirteen members.10 Prime Minister Abe

    9
 G. Nolte and H. Krieger, Chapter 6–Military Law in Germany, in: G. Nolte (ed.),
European Military Law Systems, at 339–426, (2003).
10
The Advisory Panel on Reconstruction of the Legal Basis for Security was
formed by the Prime Minister’s decision of 17 April 2007 and presented its report on
1586 shunji yanai

tasked the Panel to reexamine the current legal basis for Japan’s national
security in light of changes to the security environment surrounding
Japan. On the basis of this recognition, Prime Minister Abe stressed the
need for strengthening the Japan-U.S. alliance and also the need for
Japan to be more actively involved in international peace operations
such as PKOs. He specifically requested the Panel to examine the four
cases cited below, bearing in mind the interpretation hitherto held by
the Government, that Article 9 only permits the exercise of the right of
individual self-defence, and that the exercise of the right of collective
self-defence and Japan’s participation in the UN collective security sys-
tem are prohibited under the Constitution. The four cited cases are as
follows:
1. Suppose Japanese Maritime Self Defence Force (JMSDF) vessels
are engaged in joint operations such as joint training in the vicinity
of U.S. naval vessels on the high seas. In the event of an attack on
U.S. naval vessels during such exercise, can the JMSDF vessels be
put in a position where they are not allowed to do anything for the
U.S. vessels?
2. It is without doubt that if the United States, an ally of Japan, suffers
substantial damage by ballistic missile attacks, this will seriously
affect Japan’s own defence. Despite this fact, setting aside the ques-
tions of technological capabilities, can Japan be put in a position
where it is not allowed to intercept ballistic missiles which might be
on their way to the United States even when the missiles are detected
by the radar systems of the Self Defence Forces?
3. With regard to international peace operations, the first issue is the
use of weapons. For instance, if units or personnel of other coun-
tries engaged in the same PKO or other similar activities are
attacked, other units or personnel can of course come to the site and
help them by using weapons if needed. Can the Japanese personnel
be put in a position where they are not allowed to take such action,
while personnel of any other countries can do so as a matter of
course?
4. The last is the issue of logistics support to other countries partici-
pating in the same PKOs or other international peace operations.

24 June 2008. The Panel was composed of eight professors, two retired ambassadors,
one former Vice Defence Minister, one retired Ground Force General and one busi-
nessman. The Panel was chaired by Shunji Yanai.
 japan’s contribution to international peace1587

Even though activities such as supply, transportation and medical

services are not in themselves a “use of force”, the current constitu-
tional interpretation does not allow such support if it is provided in
a manner which forms an “integral part” of the use of force by other
countries. Is it appropriate to continue to apply this concept to
logistics support activities?
It should be noted that, basically, cases one and two relate to the right
of self-defence and cases three and four relate to international peace
operations.

III. Panel Report of 24 June 2008

As the Panel Report of 24 June 2008 is a detailed one, it is not even pos-
sible to summarize it here. But it would be useful to refer to the Panel’s
basic views about the interpretation of Article 9 of the Japanese
Constitution. This article provides “[a]spiring sincerely to an interna-
tional peace based on justice and order, the Japanese people forever
renounce war as a sovereign right of the nation and the threat or use of
force as means of settling international disputes. In order to accom-
plish the aim of the preceding paragraph, land, sea, and air forces, as
well as other war potential, will never be maintained. The right of bel-
ligerency of the state will not be recognized.” The Japanese Government,
especially its National Legislation Bureau, has maintained that para-
graph 1 (the first sentence) “seems to prohibit Japan completely from
using force in international relations”. Starting from this assumption,
the bureau has held the view that, in spite of this and in light of other
provisions of the Constitution, it does not go as far as prohibiting Japan
from exercising its right of individual self-defence. This means that, in
its view, the Constitution prohibits the exercise of the right of collective
self-defence and the right to participate in peace activities under the
UN collective security system. In the Panel’s view, the following phrase
of paragraph 1(the first sentence) of Article 9 does not seem to “pro-
hibit Japan completely from using force in international relations”. The
phrase in question reads “forever renounce war as a sovereign right of
the nation and the threat or use of force as means of settling interna-
tional disputes”. Rather, it would be straightforward to interpret the
provision from the literal reading that it does not prohibit Japan from
exercising the right of collective self-defence–not to say the right of
individual self-defence–no from participating in collective security led
by the United Nations. The idea of renouncing war had evolved over
1588 shunji yanai

the long history of the development of international law, including the

Covenant of the League of Nations, the 1928 Pact of Paris for the
Renunciation of War,11 and the Charter of the United Nations. However,
throughout history, no ideas were expressed which negated the right of
individual and collective self-defence or collective security.
In light of these basic views, the Panel elaborated the interpretation
of Article 9 and recommended that the Government change the inter-
pretation so as to allow Japan to exercise not only the right of individ-
ual self-defence, but also the right of collective self-defence and
participation in peace activities under the collective security system.
If this straightforward interpretation is adopted, all of the difficulties
involved in the four specific cases mentioned by Prime Minister Abe
would be resolved. The Panel made detailed recommendations on
these four cases, and on specific measures and procedures to be taken,
but space does not allow for a detailed account here.

F. Conclusion

In order for Japan to cope with the increasingly difficult global and
regional security environment, particularly in Northeast Asia, there is
an urgent need to strengthen the Japan-U.S. alliance and also for Japan
to participate more actively in international peace operations such as
peace-keeping operations, as Former Prime Minister Abe stressed. In
order to achieve this goal, the interpretation of Article 9 of the Japanese
Constitution has to be changed as recommended by the Panel.
Unfortunately, Mr. Shinzo Abe, the strong promoter of the reconstruc-
tion of the legal basis for security, stepped down from the premiership
in 2008, and his party, the Liberal Democratic Party, lost the 2009 gen-
eral election and was replaced by the new coalition Government led by
the Democratic Party of Japan. As a result of these political events, the
recommendations of the Panel have not been implemented. The
Advisory Panel Report of 24 June 2008 made solid recommendations
for the reconstruction of the legal basis for the security of Japan and its
more active participation in international peace operations. What is
needed now in Japan is strong political leadership.

11
 Article 9 of the Japanese Constitution finds its root in the Pact of Paris for the
Renunciation of War, signed in 1928. The Pact states, “The High Contracting Parties
solemnly declare in the names of their respective peoples that they condemn recourse
to war for the solution of international controversies, and renounce it as an instrument
of national policy in their relations with one another.”
 Part VI

Dispute Settlement and Conflict-Resolution

 Jurisprudence of the International
Tribunal for the Law of the Sea in Prompt
Release Proceedings

Joseph Akl

The jurisdiction of the Tribunal, according to Article 288 of the United

Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea and Articles 21 and 22 of the
Statute of the Tribunal, encompasses the settlement of all disputes con-
cerning the interpretation and application of the Convention, subject
to certain limitations provided for in Articles 297 and 298 of the
Convention.
A distinction can be made between compulsory and optional juris-
diction, depending on a general acceptance of the jurisdiction by the
parties to the dispute in accordance with Article 287 of the Convention
relating to the choice of the means to settle disputes or on a special
agreement concluded after the dispute has arisen.
However, in two instances the Tribunal has practically exclusive
compulsory jurisdiction, in cases of Application for the prompt release
of vessels and crews under Article 292 of the Convention and of request
for the prescription of provisional measures under Article 290, para-
graph 5, of the Convention.
The Tribunal has hitherto dealt with nine applications for the prompt
release of vessels and crews and with five requests for the prescription
of provisional measures. In accordance with the Rules of the Tribunal,
the proceedings in both cases are urgent and should be concluded in a
short period of time not exceeding one month.
The purpose of this article is to present an overview of the jurispru-
dence of the Tribunal in cases it has dealt with in proceedings under
Article 292 of the Convention for the prompt release of vessels and
crews, in particular, of the main legal issues relating to the jurisdiction
of the Tribunal and the admissibility of an Application for prompt
release (A) and the merits in these proceedings (B).
1592 joseph akl

A. Jurisdiction and Admissibility

I. Jurisdiction
The procedure of prompt release of vessels and crews is provided for in
Article 292, which reads as follows:
“Article 292
Prompt release of vessels and crews
1. Where the authorities of a State Party have detained a vessel flying the
flag of another State Party and it is alleged that the detaining State has
not complied with the provisions of this Convention for the prompt
release of the vessel or its crew upon the posting of a reasonable bond
or other financial security, the question of release from detention may
be submitted to any court or tribunal agreed upon by the parties or,
failing such agreement within 10 days from the time of detention, to a
court or tribunal accepted by the detaining State under article 287 or
to the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, unless the parties
otherwise agree.
2. The application for release may be made only by or on behalf of the
flag State of the vessel.
3. The court or tribunal shall deal without delay with the application for
release and shall deal only with the question of release, without preju-
dice to the merits of any case before the appropriate domestic forum
against the vessel, its owner or its crew. The authorities of the detain-
ing State remain competent to release the vessel or its crew at any
time.
4. Upon the posting of the bond or other financial security determined
by the court or tribunal, the authorities of the detaining State shall
comply promptly with the decision of the court or tribunal concern-
ing the release of the vessel or its crew.”
When seized by an Application for the prompt release of a vessel and its
crew, the Tribunal has in the first place to determine that it has jurisdic-
tion to entertain the Application and that the Application is admissible.
The jurisdiction is subject to certain conditions set out in the provisions
of Article 292 of the Convention, in particular, paragraphs 1 and 2, and
Articles 110 and 111 of the Rules of the Tribunal.
The flag state of the vessel (the Applicant) and the detaining state (the
Respondent) must be States Parties to the Convention. Can two states
which are not parties to the Convention submit a dispute on a question
of release? They can, theoretically, if they conclude an agreement to that
effect. However, it is doubtful whether the detaining state will agree to
conclude such agreement.
Article 292, paragraph 2, of the Convention provides that “the appli-
cation for release may be made only by or on behalf of the flag State”.
 prompt release proceedings1593

In order to act on behalf of a flag state, a juridical or natural person

must be authorized to do so by the competent authorities of that state.
Out of nine Applications for prompt release, six were submitted on
behalf of the flag state. The Tribunal accepted authorizations delivered
by the Minister of Foreign Affairs, the Attorney General and the
Minister of Agriculture and Marine Resources of the flag state with
respect to the “Camouco”, the “Chaisiri Refer 2”, the M/V “SAIGA”, the
“Juno Trader”, the “Grand Prince” and the “Monte Confurco” Cases. The
provisions of paragraphs 2 and 3 of Article 110 of the Rules stipulate
the requirements for submitting an Application on behalf of a State
Party. In the “Volga”, the “Hoshinmaru” and the “Tomimaru” Cases, the
Applications were submitted by the flag states.
The State Party submitting the Application for the release must be
the flag state of the detained vessel. The Tribunal verifies that the docu-
ments submitted indicate that the detained vessel has the nationality of
the applicant state and is entitled to fly its flag. If this condition is not
fulfilled, that state lacks the locus standi for submitting an Application
for the prompt release of such vessel.
At what point in time should the status of the applicant state as the
flag state of the vessel be assessed? The Tribunal did not explicitly take
a position on this question. In several cases of prompt release the status
of the applicant state as the flag state was not disputed. In the M/V
“SAIGA” Case, the Tribunal noted that “Guinea did not contest that
Saint Vincent and the Grenadines is the flag state of the vessel”.1 In the
“Volga” Case the Tribunal stated that the “status of the Russian
Federation as the flag State is not disputed”.2 Likewise, in the
“Hoshinmaru” Case the Tribunal noted that “the status of Japan as the
flag State is not disputed”.3
It should be noted that in the “Camouco” Case as well as in the
“Monte Confurco” Case the Tribunal stated that the status of the appli-
cant state as the flag state “both at the time of the incident in question
and now [meaning the date of the judgment] is not disputed”.4

1
M/V “SAIGA” Case (Saint Vincent and the Grenadines v. Guinea,) Prompt
Release, Judgment, ITLOS Reports 1997, 16, para. 44.
2
“Volga” Case (Russian Federation v. Australia), Prompt Release, Judgment, ITLOS
Reports 2002, 10, para. 56.
3
“Hoshinmaru” Case (Japan v. Russian Federation), Prompt Release, Judgment,
ITLOS Reports 2005–2007, 18, para. 54.
4
“Monte Confurco” Case (Seychelles v. France), Prompt Release, Judgment, ITLOS
Reports 2000, 86, para. 58.
1594 joseph akl

Furthermore, in the “Grand Prince” Case the Tribunal stated “that the
initial burden of establishing that Belize was the flag State when the
Application was made is on the Applicant”.5
The Tribunal reiterated this formulation in its judgment in the “Juno
Trader” Case. It found “that there is no legal basis for the Respondent’s
claim that Saint Vincent and the Grenadines was not the flag state of
the vessel on 18 November 2004, the date on which the Application for
prompt release was submitted”.6
It should also be added that legal opinions have addressed the ques-
tion of the relevant time for establishing the status of the applicant state
as the flag state of the detained vessel. These opinions consider that
Article 292 of the Convention establishes a form of diplomatic protec-
tion subject to the general principle of international law requiring the
continuity of the nationality at the submission of the claim and at the
time of the commission of the wrongful act.
According to Professor Jean-Pierre Quéneudec, the relevant time
would be the time of the commission of the wrongful act by the vessel,
as well as the time of the detention of the vessel and the time of the
submission of the Application for prompt release. In this regard, Judge
Tulio Treves considers, however, that the claimed wrongful act is not
the arrest of the vessel but the non-compliance by the detaining state
with the provisions of the Convention for the prompt release of the ves-
sel upon the posting of a reasonable bond or other financial security.7
What if the documentary evidence submitted by the Applicant raises
doubts concerning the valid nationality of the vessel? This situation
arose in the “Grand Prince” Case. France did not explicitly contest that
Saint Vincent and the Grenadines was the flag state of the “Grand
Prince”. However, the Tribunal declared, recalling the jurisprudence of
the International Court of Justice,8 “that according to the settled juris-
prudence in international adjudication, a Tribunal must at all times
be satisfied that it has jurisdiction to entertain the case submitted to it.

5
“Grand Prince” Case (Belize v. France), Prompt Release, Judgment, ITLOS
Reports 2001, 17, para. 67.
6
“Juno Trader” Case (Saint Vincent and the Grenadines v. Guinea-Bissau), Prompt
Release, Judgment, ITLOS Reports 2004, 17, para. 64.
7
“Grand Prince” Case (note 5), Separate Opinion of Judge Treves, 1, para. 3, at 63,
and 2, para. 1, at 64. See also J. P. Quéneudec, A propos de la procédure de prompte
mainlevée devant le Tribunal international du droit de la mer, Annuaire du droit de la
mer, 79, 85 (2002).
8
“The Court must however always be satisfied that it has jurisdiction and must if
necessary go into the matter proprio mutu.” (Appeal Relating to the Jurisdiction of the
ICAO Council, Judgment, ICJ Reports 1972, 46, at 52).
 prompt release proceedings1595

For this purpose it has the power to examine proprio motu the basis of
its jurisdiction”.9
The Tribunal also recalled its jurisprudence in the M/V “SAIGA”
(No. 2) Case according to which even where there is no disagreement
between the parties regarding the jurisdiction of the Tribunal, “the
Tribunal must satisfy itself that it has jurisdiction to deal with the case
as submitted”.10
On the basis of an overall assessment of the material placed before it,
the Tribunal concluded that the documentary evidence submitted by
the Applicant failed to establish that Belize was the flag state of the ves-
sel when the Application was made. As a consequence, the Tribunal
found that it had no jurisdiction to hear the Application.
The vessel, its Master and its crew are detained in the respondent
state and subject to its jurisdiction. We will see later on how the Tribunal
interprets the meaning of the term detention.
The Applicant alleged that the Respondent had not complied with
the provisions of the Convention for the prompt release of the vessel or
its crew upon the posting of a reasonable bond or other financial
security.
The parties did not agree to submit the question of release from
detention to another court or tribunal within 10 days from the time of
detention.
The Application for the prompt release of the vessel is made in
accordance with Article 110 and 111 of the Rules. Article 110 enumer-
ates the requirements concerning the authorization delivered by the
flag state to act on its behalf to make an Application for prompt release.
Article 111 requires that the Application for prompt release must con-
tain a statement of the facts and the legal grounds on which the
Application for release is based, as well as information relating to the
detention of the vessel and crew, to the registration of the vessel, its
cargo, its value, and other relevant information.

II. Admissibility of the Application

The basic condition for the admissibility of an Application for
the prompt release of a vessel and its crew is set out in Article 292,
paragraph 1, which provides that the Applicant must allege “that the

9
“Grand Prince” Case (note 5), para. 77.
10
M/V “SAIGA” Case (No. 2) (Saint Vincent and the Grenadines v. Guinea),
Judgment, ITLOS Reports 1999, 10, para. 40.
1596 joseph akl

detaining State has not complied with the provisions of the Convention
for the prompt release of the vessel or its crew upon the posting of a
reasonable bond or other financial security”.
Several provisions of the Convention provide that vessels and crews
can be detained by the authorities of a State Party and subject to penal,
administrative or civil judicial proceedings and enforcement measures.
However, most of these provisions do not impose on the detaining state
the obligation to release the vessel or its crew upon the posting of a
reasonable bond or other financial security. These provisions give the
coastal state the competence to prevent and deal with violations of its
laws and regulations in its territorial sea, contiguous zone, exclusive
economic zone, and its continental shelf, in particular to prevent and
punish infringements of its customs, fiscal, immigration or sanitary
laws and regulations within its territory or territorial sea. In addition,
Articles 105, 108 and 109 of the Convention empower every state to
seize on the high seas a pirate ship, or a ship engaged in illicit traffic in
narcotic drugs and psychotropic substances or in unauthorized broad-
casting from the high seas.
The prompt release procedure is available to the flag state in certain
cases of detention where the Convention contains specific provisions
for the release of vessels and crews upon the posting of a reasonable
bond or financial security. It is relevant to identify those provisions
upon which prompt release proceedings must be based. The Tribunal
identified such provisions in its first judgment in the M/V “SAIGA”
Case. They can be found in Article 73, para. 2, Article 220, paras. 6 and
7, and Article 226, para. 1, (b) and (c).
Article 73, paragraph 2, of the Convention provides that vessels
arrested for violations of the laws and regulations adopted by the
coastal state, in the exercise of its sovereign rights to explore, exploit,
conserve and manage the living resources in the exclusive economic
zone, shall be released upon the posting of a reasonable bond or other
financial security. All Applications for prompt release submitted so far
to the Tribunal have been based on this article.
Articles 220 and 226 of the Convention provide for the posting of a
bond for the release of vessels detained for pollution offences. They
relate to detention for violations of the laws and regulations of the
coastal state or the international rules and standards against dumping
or discharge for the protection of the marine environment.
Furthermore, the provisions of Article 292 impose certain limita-
tions on the competence of the Tribunal in dealing with prompt release
 prompt release proceedings1597

proceedings. Paragraph 3 of that Article states “that a court or tribunal

shall deal without delay with the application for the release and shall
deal only with the question of release, without prejudice to the merits
of any case before the appropriate domestic forum against the vessel, its
owner or its crew”.
In accordance with this provision, the Tribunal held that submis-
sions by the Applicant that the detaining state has not complied with
provisions of the Convention not relating to the question of release are
inadmissible. The judgment in the M/V “SAIGA” Case states that “the
Tribunal is not called upon to determine whether the arrest of the
M/V “SAIGA” was legitimate. It is called upon to determine whether
the detention consequent to the arrest is in violation of a provision of
the Convention ‘for the prompt release of the vessel or its crew upon
the posting of a reasonable bond or other financial security’”.11
In this regard, the Tribunal also stated in the “Volga” Case that, in its
view, “matters relating to the circumstances of the seizure of the Volga
… are not relevant to the present proceedings for prompt release under
article 292 of the Convention. The Tribunal therefore cannot take into
account the circumstances of the seizure of the Volga in assessing the
reasonableness of the bond”.12
The Tribunal confirmed its jurisprudence in the “Camouco” Case. In
dealing with the submissions of the Applicant requesting it to declare
that the Respondent had violated Article 73, paragraphs 3 and 4, of the
Convention, the Tribunal declared that “the scope of the jurisdiction of
the Tribunal in proceedings under Article 292 of the Convention
encompasses only cases in which ‘it is alleged that the detaining State
has not complied with the provisions of the Convention for the prompt
release of the vessel or its crew upon the posting of a reasonable bond
or other financial security’. As paragraphs 3 and 4, unlike paragraph 2,
of Article 73, are not such provisions, the submissions concerning their
alleged violation are not admissible”.13 The Tribunal added that “it may,
however, be noted, in passing, that there is a connection between para-
graphs 2 and 4 of article 73, since absence of prompt notification may
have a bearing on the ability of the flag State to invoke article 73, para-
graph 2, and article 292 in a timely and efficient manner”.14

11
M/V “SAIGA” Case (note 1), para. 62.
12
“Volga” Case (note 2), para. 83.
13
“Camouco” Case (Panama v. France), Prompt Release, Judgment, ITLOS Reports
2000, 10, para. 59.
14
Id.
1598 joseph akl

The same considerations apply to allegations by the Applicant that

the Respondent has violated the provisions of the Convention on free-
dom of navigation and that the Respondent’s laws are incompatible
with the provisions of the Convention. This jurisprudence was reiter-
ated in the Tribunal’s judgment in the “Monte Confurco” Case. It should
be noted that these matters can be subject to judicial settlement by the
institution of other proceedings outside the limited scope of the prompt
release procedure.

III. Objections to Admissibility

In proceedings for the prompt release of vessels and crews the detain-
ing states raised a number of objections to the admissibility of
Applications for release.

1. Delay in the Submission of the Application

In the “Camouco” Case, France contented that the Applicant had filed
its Application more than three months after the detention of the
Camouco, and by failing to act promptly the Applicant had, by its con-
duct, created a situation akin to estoppel and that consequently the
Application was inadmissible.
The Tribunal rejected this objection. It observed that Article 292 of
the Convention “does not require the flag state to file an application at
any particular time after the detention of the vessel or its crew. The
10-day period referred to in article 292, paragraph 1, of the Convention
… does not suggest that an application not made to a court or tribunal
within the 10 days period or to the Tribunal immediately after the
10-day period … will not be treated as an application for ‘prompt
release’ within the meaning of article 292”.15 In this context, it should be
mentioned that the Tribunal accepted Japan’s Application for the
prompt release of the “Tomimaru”, filed nearly eight months after the
detention of the vessel.

2. Situation of lis pendens and Exhaustion of Local Remedies

Another objection to the admissibility of the Application was pleaded
by France in the “Camouco” Case, contending that domestic legal

15
Id., at para. 54.
 prompt release proceedings1599

proceedings are currently pending when their purpose is to achieve

precisely the same result as that sought by the proceedings under
Article 292 of the Convention. In France’s view, the Applicant was
invoking the procedures of Article 292 “as a second remedy” against a
decision of a national court and the Application clearly pointed to a
“situation of lis pendens which casts doubts on its admissibility”. France
drew attention to Article 295 of the Convention on the exhaustion of
local remedies.
The Tribunal held that “it is not logical to read the requirement of
exhaustion of local remedies or any other analogous rule into article
292”. It added that “article 292 provides for an independent remedy and
not an appeal against a decision of a national court. No limitation
should be read into article 292 that would have the effect of defeating
its very object and purpose. Indeed article 292 permits the making of
an application within a short period from the date of detention and it is
not normally the case that local remedies could be exhausted in such a
short period”.16

3. Ownership of the Vessel

An objection to the admissibility of an Application and to the jurisdic-
tion of the Tribunal was raised by the Respondent in the “Juno Trader”
Case who claimed that the ownership of the vessel reverted to the
detaining state in execution of an administrative decision for its confis-
cation, and as a consequence the applicant state was no longer the flag
state of the vessel. The Respondent in the “Tomimaru” Case advanced a
similar objection, based on the fact that the vessel was confiscated by a
judicial decision and became the property of the Russian Federation.
The Tribunal addressed the question of the relationship between the
ownership and the nationality of the vessel. With regard to the “Juno
Trader” the Tribunal declared “whatever may be the effect of a defini-
tive change in the ownership of a vessel upon its nationality, the
Tribunal considers that there is no legal basis in the particular circum-
stances of this case for holding that there have been a definitive change
in the nationality of the Juno Trader”.17 In this respect, it is relevant to
mention that Judges Mensah and Wolfrum wrote in their Separate

16
Id., at paras. 57–58.
17
“Juno Trader” Case (note 6), para. 63.
1600 joseph akl

Opinion appended to the Tribunal’s judgment as follows: “It is not ten-

able to argue that the Juno Trader has lost its flag in consequence of its
alleged confiscation. Vessels without flag are the exception and there-
fore, loss of flag of a ship cannot be assumed lightly. Further, and more
importantly, a vessel that loses its flag also loses the protection of the
flag State”.18
The Tribunal clarified further, in its judgment in the “Tomimaru”
Case, the legal question of the relationship between ownership and
nationality of a vessel. The Tribunal stated “that the confiscation of a
vessel does not result per se in an automatic change of the flag or its
loss”. The Tribunal also added that “in view of the important functions
of the flag State as referred to in article 94 of the Convention and of the
pivotal role played by the flag State in the initiation of the procedure for
the prompt release of a ship under article 292 of the Convention, it can-
not be assumed that a change in ownership automatically leads to the
change or loss of its flag”.19

4. Setting a Bond during the Proceedings

In the “Hoshinmaru” Case, the Respondent claimed that Japan’s
Application, submitted on 6 July 2007, was inadmissible and became
moot on 13 July 2007 when the Russian authorities set a bond. The
Applicant claimed, however, that the setting of the bond does not
resolve the dispute and that the bond was unreasonable and was not set
promptly.
The Tribunal stated that “while it takes the view that in principle, the
decisive date for determining the issues of admissibility is the date of
the filing of an application, it acknowledges that events subsequent to
the filing of an application may render an application without object”. 20
In this respect, the Tribunal recalled that in the M/V “SAIGA” Case it
had held that a state might make an Application under Article 292 of
the Convention not only where no bond had been set but also where it
considered that the bond set by the detaining state was unreasonable.
The Tribunal reaffirmed its jurisprudence and emphasized that it was
for the Tribunal to decide whether a bond was reasonable. Therefore,

18
Id., Joint Separate Opinion of Judges Mensah and Wolfrum, para. 11, 61.
19
“Tomimaru” Case (Japan v. Russian Federation), Judgment, ITLOS Reports 2005–
2007, 74, para. 70.
20
“Hoshinmaru” Case (note 3), para. 64.
 prompt release proceedings1601

the Tribunal rejected the Respondent’s objection to the admissibility of

Japan’s Application.

B. Merits in Proceedings for Prompt Release

Once an Application for prompt release is found to be admissible, the

Tribunal must decide on the merits of the case. The merits aspect of a
prompt release case has limited scope. It encompasses the determina-
tion whether or not the allegation made by the flag state, that the
detaining state has not complied with the provisions of the Convention–
providing for the release of a vessel and its crew upon the posting of a
reasonable bond or other financial security–is well founded, the evalu-
ation of the reasonableness of the bond imposed by the detaining state,
and eventually the determination of a reasonable bond, its amount,
nature and form. It is necessary in the first place to review certain gen-
eral rules followed by the Tribunal in dealing with the prompt release
cases.

I. General Rules Followed by the Tribunal

1. Relationship of the Proceedings under Article 292 to other
Proceedings–Independence of the Proceedings under Article 292
Article 292, paragraph 3, of the Convention states that the prompt
release proceedings shall be “without prejudice to the merits of any
case before the appropriate domestic forum against the vessel, its owner
or its crew”. The same paragraph states that the Tribunal “shall deal
only with the question of release”.
In the Tribunal’s view, while “the States which are parties to the pro-
ceedings before the Tribunal are bound by the judgment adopted by it
as far as the release of the vessel and the bond or other security are
concerned, their domestic courts, in considering the merits of the case,
are not bound by any findings of fact or law that the Tribunal may have
made in order to reach its conclusions”.21
The Tribunal noted also that proceedings on prompt release are sep-
arate and independent vis-à-vis other international proceedings. It
cannot be ruled out that a given case may be submitted for a decision
on the merits to another court or tribunal. However, that does not

21
M/V “SAIGA” Case (note 1), para. 49.
1602 joseph akl

preclude the Tribunal from “considering the aspects of the merits it

deems necessary in order to reach its decision on the question of
release, but it does require that the Tribunal do so with restraint”.22

2. Laws and Court Decisions of the Detaining State

In proceedings for prompt release, the Tribunal examines the facts of
the case and the relevant laws, regulations and decisions of the detain-
ing state upon which it based its action.
The Tribunal treats the laws of the detaining state and the decisions
of its courts as relevant facts without being bound by these laws and
decisions. At the same time, the Tribunal asserts that under Article 292
of the Convention it is not an appellate forum against a decision of a
national court.
In the M/V “SAIGA” Case, Guinea contended that the vessel and its
crew were detained for smuggling offences in its contiguous zone and
that the Guinean authorities had acted on the basis of its laws. In this
connection, the Tribunal held that “in light of the independent charac-
ter of the proceedings for the prompt release of vessels and crews, when
adopting its classification of the laws of the detaining State, the Tribunal
is not bound by the classification given by such State”. In spite of
Guinea’s contention, the Tribunal declared that Guinea’s action “can be
seen within the framework of Article 73 of the Convention”. The
Tribunal added, “it is the opinion of the Tribunal that given the choice
between a legal classification that implies a violation of international
law and one that avoids such implication it must opt for the latter”.23
A substantial number of judges did not approve of the views of the
majority in their dissenting opinions. They challenged the power of the
Tribunal to adopt its own classification of the laws of the detaining
state. A number of scholars also criticized the Tribunal’s judgment in
their comments. Others expressed approval, in general, of the conclu-
sions reached by the Tribunal in this complex case. In particular,
Professor Eli Lauterpacht wrote the following:
“The applicant statement must point to the provision of the Convention
not complied with. Once the applicant state has done that, the question
of whether this is the relevant provision of the Convention is a matter of

22
Id., at para. 50.
23
Id., at paras. 71–72.
 prompt release proceedings1603

objective assessment by the Tribunal. That assessment must take place

not by reference to the legislation, which the detaining state itself invokes
as the basis of its conduct, but rather by reference to what objectively
must be seen as a likely or possible basis. Otherwise, the detaining State
would be able, by pointing to some alleged breach of its own law not
covered by one of the provisions of the Convention referred to in article
292, to escape from the operation of that article.”24
Other examples in which the Tribunal departed from the characteri­
zation advanced by a detaining state of its laws and regulations are
found in the jurisprudence of the Tribunal in other prompt release
proceedings.
In the “Camouco” Case as well as in the “Monte Confurco” Case, the
Master of the vessel was placed under court supervision by a decision
of the examining magistrate. The Respondent contended that the
Master was not in detention. The Tribunal noted “that the Master is
presently under court supervision, that his passport has also been
taken away, … and that, consequently, he is not in a position to leave
Réunion”.25 The Tribunal considered that it was appropriate to order
the release of the Master in accordance with Article 292, paragraph 1,
of the Convention and held the same view in the “Monte Confurco”
Case. Furthermore, in the same two cases, the Tribunal decided that
the bond should be in the form of a bank guarantee, while the domestic
court imposed a bond to be paid in cash, by certified cheque or bank
draft.
In the “Juno Trader” Case, the detaining state informed the Tribunal
that all members of the crew were free to leave. However, the Tribunal
noted that the members of the crew were still in the detaining state and
subject to its jurisdiction.
Equally, in the “Hoshinmaru” Case, the Respondent stated that the
restrictions on the free movement of the Master had been lifted. The
Tribunal also noted that the Master and the crew still remained in
the detaining state. Nevertheless, in both cases, the Tribunal decided in
one of the operative provisions of its judgments that “the Master and
the crew shall be free to leave without any condition”.

24
 E. Lauterpacht, The first decision of the International Tribunal for the Law of the
Sea: The M/V SAIGA, in: G. Hafner (ed.), Liber Amicorum Professor Ignaz Seidl-
Hohenfelder, 395–418 (1998).
25
“Camouco” Case (note 13), para. 71.
1604 joseph akl

In the “Volga” Case, the Tribunal decided that non-financial condi-

tions imposed by the authorities of the detaining state, such as the
carrying of a Vessel Monitoring System and the submission of informa-
tion on the ultimate beneficial owners of the vessel, could not be con-
sidered components of a bond or other financial security under Article
73, paragraph 2, of the Convention and would defeat that provision’s
“object and purpose”. The Tribunal also held in the same case that “a
‘good behaviour bond’ to prevent future violations of the laws of a
coastal State cannot be considered as a bond or security within the
meaning of article 73, paragraph 2, of the Convention, read in conjunc-
tion with article 292 of the Convention”.26
It is of interest to cite from the declaration of the late Judge Laing,
appended to the judgment in the “Camouco” Case the following: “In
applying article 292, the Tribunal should not be unduly concerned with
a detaining State’s categorization of its actions under its law. Therefore,
formulations of domestic law which, in good faith, deny the apparent
objective international reality of arrest or detention or are based on
particular domestic concepts are of limited consequence.”27

II. The Bond

1. The Prior Posting of a Bond
In the M/V “SAIGA” Case, the Respondent contented that Article 73 of
the Convention could not form a basis for the Application because a
bond or other security had not been offered or posted. Equally, the
Respondent in the “Camouco” Case maintained that the posting of a
bond or other security was a necessary condition to be satisfied before
an arrested vessel and its crew could be released, and concluded that
the Application deserved to be dismissed.
On this question the Tribunal stated, “according to article 292 of the
Convention, the posting of the bond is a requirement of the provision
of the Convention whose infringement makes the procedure of article
292 applicable, and not a requirement for such applicability”.
Furthermore, the Tribunal held that “there may be an infringement of
article 73, paragraph 2 of the Convention even when no bond has been
posted. The requirement of promptness has a value in itself and may
prevail when the posting of the bond has not been possible, has been

26
“Volga” Case (note 2), para. 80.
27
“Camouco” Case (note 13), Declaration of Judge Laing, at 41.
 prompt release proceedings1605

rejected or is not provided for in the coastal State’s laws or when it is

alleged that the required bond is unreasonable”.28

2. Release without a Bond

The Applicant in the M/V “SAIGA” Case requested the Tribunal to
order the release of the vessel without a bond. The Tribunal considered
the question whether a bond or other security had to be posted and if
so the nature and amount of the bond or security. The Tribunal stated
“that such release must be affected upon the posting of a reasonable
bond or other financial security. … The posting of a bond or security
seems to the Tribunal necessary in view of the nature of the prompt
release proceedings”.29 Consequently, the Tribunal rejected the
Applicant’s request that no bond or financial security or only a “sym-
bolic bond” should be posted.
The Applicant in the “Juno Trader” Case also requested the Tribunal
to order the release of the vessel and crew without the deposit of a bond
or other financial security, and in that event to request the Respondent
to return the security already posted. The Tribunal rejected the
Applicant’s request and reaffirmed its above finding.

3. Non-Compliance with Provisions of the Convention

In prompt release proceedings, the Applicant alleges that the detaining
state has not complied with the provisions of the Convention for
prompt release of the vessel or its crew upon the posting of a reasonable
bond or other financial security. So far, all prompt release proceedings
submitted to the Tribunal have been based on Article 73, paragraph 2,
of the Convention, for the release of vessels and crews detained for
alleged fisheries offences in the exclusive economic zone of the detain-
ing state, upon the posting of a bond. Paragraphs 1 and 2 of Article 73,
read as follows:
“Article 73
Enforcement of the laws and regulations of the coastal State
1. The coastal State may, in the exercise of its sovereign rights to explore,
exploit, conserve and manage the living resources in the exclusive
economic zone, take such measures, including boarding, inspection,

28
M/V “SAIGA” Case (note 1), at paras. 76–77.
29
Id., at para. 81.
1606 joseph akl

arrest and judicial proceedings, as may be necessary, to ensure com-

pliance with the laws and regulations adopted by it in conformity with
the Convention.
2. Arrested vessels and their crews shall be promptly released upon the
posting of reasonable bond or other security.”
After the establishment of the Tribunal’s jurisdiction to entertain the
Application for release and its admissibility, the first task of the Tribunal,
pursuant to Article 113, paragraph 1, of its Rules, is to determine
whether or not the allegation made by the Applicant is well founded.
To that end, the Tribunal examines the circumstances of each case,
the facts presented in the various administrative, judicial or legislative
documents adduced by both parties to the dispute, and the legal
grounds and submissions advanced in the written and oral pleadings.
In particular, the Tribunal verifies that the vessel and its crew are
detained for violations of fisheries laws in the exclusive economic zone
of the coastal state and have not been released, in accordance with the
provisions of Article 73, paragraph 2, of the Convention. The Tribunal
has to make an objective assessment of the reasonableness of the bond
imposed by the detaining state and alleged to be unreasonable by the
applicant state.
The Tribunal stressed in its judgment in the “Monte Confurco” Case
that “when under article 292 of the Convention the Tribunal is called
upon to determine what constitutes a reasonable bond, its determina-
tion must be based on the Convention and other rules of international
law not incompatible with the Convention”.30
Throughout its successive judgments on prompt release cases, the
Tribunal has progressively developed its jurisprudence on its evalua-
tion of a reasonable bond within the meaning of Article 292 of the
Convention.

4. Assessment of the Reasonableness of Bonds

The Tribunal has specified the factors relevant to the assessment of the
reasonableness of bonds or other financial security, and declared that
the assessment of the relevant factors must be an objective one taking
into account all information provided to the Tribunal by the parties.
In the first case of prompt release, the M/V “SAIGA” Case,
the Tribunal stated that in its view “the criterion of reasonableness

30
“Monte Confurco” Case (note 4), para. 75.
 prompt release proceedings1607

encompasses the amount, the nature and the form of the bond or finan-
cial security. The overall balance of the amount, form and nature of the
bond or financial security must be reasonable”.31
The Tribunal expanded the criterion of reasonableness and held in
its judgment in the “Camouco” Case that “the Tribunal considers that a
number of factors are relevant in an assessment of the reasonableness
of bonds or other financial security. They include the gravity of the
alleged offences, the penalties imposed or imposable under the laws of
the detaining State, the value of the detained vessel and of the cargo
seized, the amount of the bond imposed by the detaining State and its
form”.32
In the “Monte Confurco” Case, the Tribunal added that “this is by no
means a complete list of factors. Nor does the Tribunal intend to lay
down rigid rules as to the exact weight to be attached to each one of
them”.33 The Tribunal stated further in its judgment in the “Monte
Confurco” Case that “article 73 identifies two interests, the interest of
the coastal State to take appropriate measures, as may be necessary, to
ensure compliance with the laws and regulations adopted by it on the
one hand and the interest of the flag Sate in securing prompt release of
its vessels and their crews from detention on the other. It strikes a bal-
ance between the two interests”.34 The Tribunal also emphasized that
“the object of article 292 of the Convention is to reconcile the interest
of the flag State to have its vessel and its crew released promptly with
the interest of the detaining State to secure appearance in its courts of
the Master and the payment of penalties”.35 It held further that “the bal-
ance of interests emerging from articles 73 and 292 of the Convention
provides the guiding criterion for the Tribunal in its assessment of the
reasonableness of the bond”.36
In the “Volga” Case the Tribunal stated that “in assessing the rea-
sonableness of the bond or other security, due account must be taken
of the terms of the bond or security set by the detaining State, having
regard to all the circumstances of the particular case”.37 It should be
mentioned in this regard that in the “Monte Confurco” Case France

31
M/V “SAIGA” Case (note 1), para. 82.
32
“Camouco” Case (note 13), para. 67.
33
“Monte Confurco” Case (note 4), para. 76.
34
Id., at para. 70.
35
Id., at para. 71.
36
Id., at para, 72.
37
“Volga” Case (note 2), para. 65.
1608 joseph akl

pointed out that the context of unlawful fishing in the region where the
vessel was arrested constituted one of the factors which should be taken
into account in assessing the reasonableness of the bond. The Tribunal
took note of this argument. In the “Volga” Case, the Respondent
advanced the same argument. Australia stated that continuing illegal
fishing in the area covered by the Convention for the Conservation
of Antarctic Marine Living Resources (CCAMLR) was a matter of
international concern. It had resulted in a serious depletion of the
stocks of Patagonian tooth fish and posed a danger to the conservation
of fisheries resources and the maintenance of the ecological balance of
the environment.
The Tribunal went further than in the precedent case and stated that
it “understands the international concerns about illegal, unregulated
and unreported fishing and appreciates the objectives behind the meas-
ures taken by States, including States Parties to CCAMLR, to deal with
the problem”.38
In the “Juno Trader” Case, the Tribunal referred to basic principles of
humanitarian law and declared that “the obligation of prompt release
of vessels and crews includes elementary considerations of humanity
and due process of law. The requirement that the bond or other finan-
cial security must be reasonable indicates that a concern for fairness is
one of the purposes of this provision”.39
In the same case, the Tribunal stated that it evaluated the gravity of
the alleged offences by reference to the penalties imposed or imposable
under the law of the detaining state, “taking into account the circum-
stances of the case and the need to avoid disproportion between the
gravity of the alleged offences and the amount of the bond”.40 With
regard to the disproportion factor for the assessment of the reasonable-
ness of the bond, Judges Kolodkin, Anderson and Cot observed in
their joint declaration appended to the Tribunal’s judgment that “an
alleged offence is less likely to be found to be ‘grave’ if it is not sup-
ported by evidence”. In their opinion, “the Tribunal is entitled, in
assessing the reasonableness of the amount of the bond or other finan-
cial security, to take into account the nature and the strength of the
evidence supporting the charges”.41

38
Id., at para. 68.
39
“Juno Trader” Case (note 6), para. 77.
40
Id., at para. 89.
41
Id., Joint declaration of Judges Kolodkin, Anderson and Cot, 50, at para. 2.
 prompt release proceedings1609

The Tribunal held in the “Hoshinmaru” Case, confirming its finding

in the “Monte Confurco” Case, that “the Tribunal is not prevented from
examining the facts and circumstances of the case to the extent neces-
sary for a proper appreciation of the reasonableness of the bond as set
by the Respondent”.42 The Tribunal asserted, however, that in doing so
it was by no means acting as a court of appeal. The Tribunal reiterated
its opinion in the “Juno Trader” Case and stated that “the amount of the
bond should be proportionate to the gravity of the alleged offences”.43
Jean Salmon wrote that “the concept of reasonableness is often
invoked with a view to limiting the discretionary powers possessed by
States in certain areas”.44 Judge Cot, in his declaration appended to the
judgment in the “Volga” Case, added to the above concept that “rea-
sonableness thus appears to be both an instrument for preserving the
margin of appreciation of States and an instrument for courts to con-
trol the exercising of the discretionary power of the State”.45

5. Determination of a Reasonable Bond

Article 113, paragraph 2, of the Rules provides that “if the Tribunal
decides that the allegation is well-founded, it shall determine the
amount, nature and form of the bond or financial security to be posted
for the release of the vessel and the crew”. The Tribunal is not bound by
the terms of the bond set or required by the detaining state, nor by the
amount which the applicant state considers reasonable.
The Tribunal proceeds to determine a bond or other security which
it considers reasonable by evaluating the facts and circumstances of the
case before it in the light of the relevant factors for the assessment of
the reasonableness of the bond or other financial security it has identi-
fied in its jurisprudence. In particular, the Tribunal takes into account
the gravity of the alleged offences and the penalties imposed or impos-
able under the laws of the detaining state.
Article 111, paragraph 2 (b), of the Rules requires that the Application
contain data relevant to the determination of the value of the vessel.
However, the Tribunal considers that the value of the vessel alone may

42
“Hoshinmaru” Case (note 3), para. 89.
43
Id., at para. 88.
44
J. A. Salmon, Le concept de raisonnable en droit international public, in:
A. Pedone (ed.), Mélanges offerts à Paul Reuter, Le droit international: unité et diver-
sité, at 459 (1981).
45
“Volga” Case (note 2), Separate Opinion of Judge Cot, at 53, para. 18.
1610 joseph akl

not be the controlling factor in the determination of the amount of the

bond or other financial security. In the “Hoshinmaru” Case, on the
basis of the criterion of proportionality and the value of the vessel the
Tribunal reduced the amount of the bond requested by the detaining
state from 20,000,000 roubles to 10,000,000 roubles.
Whenever the Tribunal determined the amount of a reasonable
bond in prompt release cases, it held the view that the bond shall be in
the form of a bank guarantee or, if agreed to by the parties, in any other
form. Exceptionally, in the “Hoshinmaru” Case, the Tribunal decided
that the bond shall be in the form either of a payment into the bank
account indicated by the Respondent or, if the Applicant preferred, of a
bank guarantee from a bank present in the Russian Federation or hav-
ing corresponding arrangements with a Russian bank.
In the M/V “SAIGA” Case, the execution of the Tribunal’s judgment
and the release of the vessel and its crew were delayed due to disagree-
ment among the parties on the terms and conditions of the bank guar-
antee. In subsequent cases, the Tribunal included in its judgments a
paragraph which specified the principal provisions which a bank guar-
antee must contain.

6. The Posting of the Bond or Other Financial Security

When a bond or other financial security has to be posted for the release
of the vessel or its crew, the Tribunal has decided so far, in accordance
with Article 113, paragraph 3, of the Rules, that the bond or other
financial security should be posted with the detaining State unless the
parties agree otherwise. On 17 March 2009, the Tribunal amended
Article 113, paragraph 3, as follows:
Unless the parties agree otherwise, the Tribunal shall determine
whether the bond or other financial security should be posted with the
Registrar or with the detaining State.

III. The Issue of the Confiscation of the Vessel

The issue of the confiscation of the vessel was raised in prompt release
proceedings in three cases, namely, the “Grand Prince” Case, the “Juno
Trader” Case and the “Tomimaru” Case. In the first two cases, the
Tribunal was not called upon to examine directly the question of con-
fiscation of the vessel and its impact on its jurisdiction. The Applicant
failed to establish that Belize was the flag state of the “Grand Prince”
when the Application was made; accordingly, the Tribunal decided that
 prompt release proceedings1611

it had no jurisdiction under Article 292 of the Convention to entertain

the Application. In the “Juno Trader” Case, the vessel was confiscated
by an administrative decision which was suspended by a court of the
detaining state.
It is relevant to note that members of the Tribunal expressed their
views on the issue of confiscation in their respective declarations or
Separate Opinions. The late Judge Laing wrote in his Separate Opinion
appended to the judgment in the “Grand Prince” Case the following:
“I believe that confiscation of a vessel under a foreign flag, even if valid
according to national law, cannot, per se, be accepted by an international
adjudicatory body if, in intent or effect, it would exclude the jurisdiction
of that body or extirpate rights or an entire remedy scheme explicitly
recognized in an important instrument with such wide participation as
the 1982 Convention. … Such confiscation raises significant questions
about due process and the essential humanitarian and economic motiva-
tions and concerns …. Therefore, prima facie, its justifiability also needs
to be carefully examined.”46
In his declaration appended to the judgment in the “Grand Prince”
Case, Judge ad hoc Cot, while rejecting as fully unjustified the
Applicant’s contention, based on a fraud against the Convention, noted
“that it would be necessary to establish that the criminal prosecution
was prompted by an intention of evading the provisions of article 292
of the Convention. In such case, the Tribunal would then be entitled to
proceed to recharacterize the national proceedings and to declare itself
as having jurisdiction”.47
The above considerations were echoed in the further development of
the jurisprudence of the Tribunal.
In its judgment in the “Juno Trader” Case, the Tribunal declared that
“the obligation of prompt release of vessels and crews includes elemen-
tary considerations of humanity and due process of law”.48 Former
presidents of the Tribunal Judges Mensah and Wolfrum endorsed the
Tribunal’s statement and added that the right of the coastal state to
confiscate fishing vessels “must be exercised within the limits of the

46
“Grand Prince” Case (note 5), Separate Opinion of Judge Laing, at 61–62, paras. 10
and 13.
47
Id., Declaration of Judge ad hoc Cot, at 51, para. 8. See also B. H. Oxman/
V. P. Benz, Un droit de confisquer? L’obligation de prompte mainlevée des navires, in:
A. Pedone (ed.), La mer et son droit. Mélanges offerts à Laurent Lucchini et Jean-Pierre
Quéneudec, at 479–499 (2003).
48
 See supra note 39.
1612 joseph akl

United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea and other relevant
rules of international law, including in particular relevant provisions
contained in international instruments on the protection of human
rights, such as those providing for the protection of fair trial and due
process”.49
Judge Treves also observed, in his Separate Opinion in the same
case, that “unnecessary use of force and violations of human rights and
due process of the law are elements that must be taken into considera-
tion in fixing a bond or guarantee that can be considered as reasona-
ble”.50 He noted further that the confiscation of the “Juno Trader” had
been suspended and added that “considering, nevertheless, the ques-
tion in more general terms, confiscation obtained in violation of due
process would seem to me abusive so that it cannot preclude an order
for release. Fines imposed without procedural guarantees might also be
seen as abusive and should not be taken as an automatic component of
a bond or security”.51
The confiscation of a detained fishing vessel was the core issue before
the Tribunal in the “Tomimaru” Case. Article 73, paragraph 1, of the
Convention empowers the coastal state, in the exercise of its sovereign
rights to explore, exploit, conserve and manage the living resources
in the exclusive economic zone, to take such measures as may be neces-
sary to ensure compliance with the laws and regulations adopted by it
in conformity with the Convention. The provisions of the Convention
providing for the release of vessels and crews upon the posting of a
reasonable bond or other financial security do not prohibit or explicitly
permit the confiscation of fishing vessels. However, many coastal states
have enacted laws and regulations providing for such confiscation.
In the “Tomimaru” Case the Respondent maintained that the owner-
ship of the “Tomimaru” reverted to the detaining state by decision of a
domestic forum already executed, and as a consequence the Tribunal
had no competence to examine an Application for prompt release.
Furthermore, the Respondent maintained that the Application was
without object.
The main issues the Tribunal had to deal with in this case related to
the effects of confiscation on prompt release proceedings. The first
question to be considered was whether confiscation might have an

49
“Juno Trader” Case (note 6), Joint Separate Opinion of Judges Mensah and
Wolfrum, at 57, para. 3.
50
Id., Separate Opinion of Judge Treves, 73, para. 5.
51
Id., at 73–74, para. 6.
 prompt release proceedings1613

impact on the nationality of a vessel. The Tribunal stated that confisca-

tion changes the ownership of a vessel but the ownership and the
nationality of a vessel are two different issues. The Tribunal declared
that “in view of the important functions of the flag State referred to in
article 94 of the Convention and the pivotal role played by the flag State
in the initiation of the procedure for the prompt release of a ship under
article 292 of the Convention, it cannot be assumed that a change in
ownership automatically leads to the change or loss of its flag”.52
The second question to be considered was whether the confiscation
of a vessel rendered an Application for release without object. At the
outset, the Tribunal emphasized that “considering the object and pur-
pose of the prompt release procedure, a decision to confiscate a vessel
does not prevent the Tribunal from considering an application for
prompt release of such vessel while proceedings are still before the
domestic courts of the detaining State”.53 Being duly notified by the
Respondent, after the closure of the oral proceedings, that the Supreme
Court of the Russian Federation had given a final decision confirming
the confiscation of the “Tomimaru”, the Tribunal noted that this deci-
sion brought to an end the proceedings before the domestic courts and
found “that the Application of Japan no longer has any object and that
the Tribunal is therefore not called upon to give a decision thereon”.54
The importance of the judgment in the “Tomimaru” Case, with
regard to the jurisprudence of the Tribunal in prompt release proceed-
ings, resides in the legal opinions expressed by the Tribunal on the
question of confiscation. The Tribunal stated that, as a general princi-
ple, “confiscation of a fishing vessel must not be used in such a manner
as to upset the balance of the interests of the flag State and of the coastal
State established in the Convention”.55
The Tribunal further stated that “a decision to confiscate eliminates
the provisional character of the detention of the vessel rendering the
procedure of prompt release without object”.56 However, a call for cau-
tion was addressed by the Tribunal to the interested state, by declaring
that “such a decision should not be taken in such a way as to prevent
the shipowner from having recourse to available domestic judicial
remedies, or as to prevent the flag State from resorting to the prompt

52
“Tomimaru” Case (note 19), para. 70.
53
Id., at para.78.
54
Id., at para. 82.
55
Id., at para.75.
56
Id., at para.76.
1614 joseph akl

release procedure set forth in the Convention; nor should it be taken

through proceedings inconsistent with international standards of due
process of law. In particular, a confiscation decided in unjustified haste
would jeopardize the operation of article 292 of the Convention”.57
The Tribunal emphasized that it is incumbent upon the flag state to
act in a timely manner, and stated that the objective of Article 292 “can
only be achieved if the shipowner and the flag State take action within
reasonable time either to have recourse to the national judicial system
of the detaining State or to initiate the prompt release procedure under
article 292 of the Convention”.58
Article 49 of the Rules states that “the proceedings before the
Tribunal shall be conducted without unnecessary delay or expense”.
Mindful of this requirement, the Tribunal has proven its ability, since
its establishment in Hamburg in 1996, to settle the disputes submitted
to it, especially in urgent proceedings, in an expeditious, efficient and
cost-effective manner.
In dealing with the prompt release cases submitted to it, the Tribunal
has made a significant contribution to the interpretation and applica-
tion of important provisions of the Convention.
The successive judgments on these cases have progressively devel-
oped a coherent jurisprudence relating to the interpretation and appli-
cation of Article 292 and other relevant provisions of the Convention
on prompt release of vessels and crews. The Tribunal has also made
important pronouncements on other legal issues and rules of interna-
tional law in connection with prompt release proceedings.
On 29 September 2006 the Tribunal celebrated its tenth anniversary
in the presence of the then President of the International Court of
Justice Judge Rosalyn Higgins. In her speech on this occasion she
declared that “within a decade, the Tribunal has pronounced interest-
ing law, built a reputation for its efficient and speedy management of
cases and shown innovative use of information technology”. Judge
Higgins also noted the atmosphere of mutual respect which prevails
between the two judicial institutions and declared that “the better we
understand each other, the better we serve our common goal of a mutu-
ally reinforcing the corpus of international law in the settlement of
international legal disputes”.59

57
Id., at para. 76.
58
Id., at para. 77.
59
 Speech by Judge Rosalyn Higgins, available at http://www.icj-cij.org/the Court/
Presidency/Statements by the President.
A “Footnote as a Principle”. Mutual Supportiveness
and its Relevance in an Era of Fragmentation

Laurence Boisson de Chazournes & Makane Moïse Mbengue

A. Transcending the Logics of Norms Conflict: From

“Harmonization” to “Mutual Supportiveness”

Multiple events or situations have been qualified as “footnotes to his-

tory”. But footnotes are to history what they might also be to the pro-
gressive development of international law. In other words, they are
neither the proper avenue for the crystallization of norms of customary
international law nor the adequate receptacle of norms in statu nas-
cendi. Footnotes are indeed often ignored or simply forgotten due to
their isolated status in international documents, be they legal or non-
legal documents.
The treatment of the principle or concept of mutual supportive
ness in the Report of the International Law Commission (ILC)
on Fragmentation of International Law: Difficulties arising from the
Diversification and Expansion of International Law is an (un)conscious
attempt at reducing mutual supportiveness to a “footnote to history”.
The ILC Report mentions mutual supportiveness only in two instances,
and then only briefly. First, to say that the “technique”1 of mutual
supportiveness “seems more appropriate to play down that sense of
conflict and to read the relevant materials from the perspective of their
contribution to some generally shared–‘systemic’–objective”.2 Second,
to convey that “often regimes operate on the basis of administrative
coordination and ‘mutual supportiveness’ the point of which is to seek
regime-optimal outcomes”3 before concluding that “while this is clearly
appropriate in regard to treaty provisions that are framed in general
or ‘programmatory’ terms, it seems less proper in regard to provisions

1
 Report of the Study Group of the International Law Commission finalized by
M. Koskenniemi, Fragmentation of International Law: Difficulties arising from the
Diversification and Expansion of International Law, UN Doc. A/CN.4/L.682, 207,
para. 412 (2006).
2
 Id.
3
 Id., at 252, para. 493.
1616 laurence boisson de chazournes & makane m. mbengue

establishing subjective rights or obligations the purpose of which it is

to guarantee such rights”.4
The ILC concludes in the Appendix to the above-mentioned
Report by mentioning “rules, methods and techniques for dealing with
collisions” of norms and regimes but does not refer to mutual support-
iveness as such. All of a sudden, mutual supportiveness was turned into
“mutual accommodation”.5 The ILC limited itself to acknowledging
that “in case of conflicts or overlaps between treaties in different
regimes, the question of which of them is later in time would not
necessarily express any presumption of priority between them. Instead,
States bound by the treaty obligations should try to implement them
as far as possible with the view of mutual accommodation and in accord-
ance with the principle of harmonization”.6
Yet mutual supportiveness has not emerged ex nihilo in the interna-
tional legal discourse and is not a legal epiphenomenon. Its birth or rise
was precipitated by the phenomenon of international legal pluralism,7
also referred to as “fragmentation”,8 “diversity”, “cacophony”, “inter-
connected islands”,9 “regime-collisions”, “global law”, and “internorma-
tivity”.10 Mutual supportiveness has emerged as a means to cure
“postmodern anxieties”11 caused by the so-called phenomenon of
“fragmentation” of international law. Rüdiger Wolfrum recognized the
problem very early in seminal works.12
Although it is undeniable that mutual supportiveness has emerged
and developed in a specific context–that of the relationship between

4
 Id.
5
 Conclusions of the work of the Study Group on the Fragmentation of International
Law: Difficulties arising from the Diversification and Expansion of International Law,
UN Doc. A/CN.4/L. 702, 1, 7 et seq., para. 26 (2006).
6
 Id., paras. 27, 28 (italics added).
7
 See W. W. Burke-White, International legal pluralism, 25 Michigan Journal of
International Law 963–979 (2004).
8
 See B. Simma, Fragmentation in a Positive Light, 25 Michigan Journal of Inter-
national Law 845–847 (2004). See also P. S. Rao, Multiple International Judicial
Forums: A Reflection of the Growing Strength of International Law or its Fragmen-
tation?, 25 Michigan Journal of International Law 929–961 (2004).
9
J. Pauwelyn, Bridging Fragmentation and Unity: International Law as a Universe
of Inter-connected Islands, 25 Michigan Journal of International Law 903–927 (2004).
10
 L. Boisson de Chazournes, Gouvernance et régulation au 21ème siècle: Quelques
propos iconoclastes, in: L. Boisson de Chazournes/R. Mehdi (eds.), Une société inter-
nationale en mutation: quels acteurs pour une nouvelle gouvernance?, 19–40 (2005).
11
M. Koskenniemi/P. Leino, Fragmentation of International Law? Postmodern
Anxieties, 15 Leiden Journal of International Law 553–579 (2002).
12
 See for example R. Wolfrum/N. Matz, Conflicts in International Environmental
Law (2003).
 a “footnote as a principle”1617

trade agreements and multilateral environment agreements (MEAs)–

there is no doubt that mutual supportiveness is rooted in legal princi-
ples capable of rationalizing fragmentation. Furthermore, mutual
supportiveness benefits from more solid legal ground–in terms of
its quantitative and qualitative incorporation in international instru-
ments–than the so-called “principle of harmonization” which has
extensively been referred to and supported by the ILC in its study on
fragmentation of international law.
“Harmonization” is intrinsically linked to the “presumption against
normative conflict”.13 Mutual supportiveness is inherently linked to a
principle (not a presumption!) of normative cohesion or normative
interconnection between different regimes. In other words, the concept
of harmonization implicitly accepts that normative conflicts may arise
if the presumption against conflict is rebutted while mutual support-
iveness “plays down that sense of conflict”,14 not to say excludes in toto
the idea of conflict. No international instrument embodying the prin-
ciple (or concept) of mutual supportiveness gives credence to the idea
of conflict. They all refer to a “relationship”15 between different treaty
regimes, or to “common” objectives pursued by different treaty regimes
or to the absence of “policies contradiction”.16
By emphasizing the “principle of harmonization”, in reality the ILC
was just putting another hat on the presumption against conflict. It
is a bit like pouring old wine into new bottles. The ILC itself started its
analysis of “harmonization” by stating that “treaty interpretation
is diplomacy, and it is the business of diplomacy to avoid or mitigate
conflict. This extends to adjudication as well”.17 Dealing more specifi-
cally with the function of “harmonization” (also called “systemic
integration”) the ILC went on to affirm that “although harmonization
often provides an acceptable outcome for normative conflict, there is a
definite limit to harmonization: ‘it may resolve apparent conflicts; it
cannot resolve genuine conflicts’”.18 It is obvious that conflict is at the

13
 See W. Jenks, The Conflict of Law-Making Treaties, 30 British Yearbook of
International Law 425 (1953): “It seems reasonable to start from a general presumption
against conflict”.
14
 Supra note 1, at para. 412.
15
 See for instance the Doha Declaration, 14 November 2001, Ministerial Confer­
ence, WT/MIN(01)/DEC/1, para. 31, available at http://www.wto.org/english/
thewto_e/minist_e/min01_e/mindecl_e.doc.
16
 Decision on Trade and Environment, 15 April 1994, Ministerial Decision, avail-
able at http://www.wto.org/english/tratop_e/envir_e/issu5_e.htm.
17
 Supra note 1, at para. 35 (italics added).
18
 Supra note 1, at para. 42 (italics added).
1618 laurence boisson de chazournes & makane m. mbengue

core of the very legitimization of the principle of harmonization by

the ILC.
The ILC also makes the proposition according to which “…it is still
possible to reach the conclusion that although the two norms seemed
to point in diverging directions, after some adjustment, it is still possi-
ble to apply or understand them in such way that no overlap or conflict
will remain. This may sometimes call for the application of the kinds of
conflict-solution rules which the bulk of this Report will deal with. But
it may also take place through an attempt to reach a resolution that
integrates the conflicting obligations in some optimal way in the
general context of international law. Inasmuch as the question of con-
flict arises regarding the fulfilment of the objectives (instead of the
obligations) of the different instruments, little may be done by the rel-
evant body”.19 Suggesting to integrate “conflicting obligations in some
optimal way in the general context of international law” can be under-
stood as a rephrasing of the presumption against conflict in interna-
tional law as traditionally framed in the Georges Pinson case within
the following semantics: “every international convention must be
deemed tacitly to refer to general principles of international law for all
questions which it does not itself resolve in express terms and in a dif-
ferent way”.20
“Harmonization” is thus inextricably linked to the presumption
against normative conflicts in the mindset of the ILC, despite the limi-
tations attached to that presumption.21 One may wonder why the ILC
has not further explored the concept of mutual supportiveness and
declined to consecrate it among the bulk of rules or principles suscep-
tible of harnessing and tackling fragmentation. In the above-mentioned
extract, the ILC asserted that “it is still possible to apply or understand
them in such way that no overlap or conflict will remain”. This is exactly

19
 Supra note 1, at para. 43 (italics in the original).
20
Georges Pinson case, Franco-Mexican Commission, Annual Digest of Public
International Law Cases, para. 50 (1927–1928).
21
 See A. Lindroos, Addressing Norm Conflicts in a Fragmented Legal System: The
Doctrine of Lex Specialis, 74 Nordic Journal of International Law 31 (2005). The author
puts the idea into context according to which special regimes (lex specialis) operate
entirely within the framework of international law: “… to some extent, therefore, these
legal orders appear to exist in a normative jungle, where each system may create solu-
tions entirely opposite to the solutions of another system, and where general interna-
tional law may be interpreted and applied in different ways. Yet at the same time, these
autonomous regimes operate within the framework of international law and rely upon
that framework to a varying degree. Although these systems are part of the wider
framework of international law, their relationship to it and to each other is far from
clear”.
 a “footnote as a principle”1619

what mutual supportiveness enhances and thereby promotes tran-

scending the logics of conflict. It is thus not clearly understandable why
mutual supportiveness has been relegated to the status of “footnote to
history” in the conclusions of the ILC study on fragmentation.
Based on a “realist” approach, the present contribution will first at-
tempt to define what mutual supportiveness is. Then, using an “im-
pressionist” approach, the trend of legalization of the principle of
mutual supportiveness will be underlined. As concluding remarks, the
contours of mutual supportiveness in treaty interpretation will be
stressed, while highlighting the relevance of the principle in the context
of the unity/fragmentation debate.

B. A “Realist” Approach to Mutual Supportiveness: Beyond

Collisions of Norms

The concept of mutual supportiveness appeared with the need and

concern for strengthening coherence, balance and interaction between
trade and environment. One might argue that there is already a certain
coherence among trade agreements (in particular WTO agreements)
and MEAs. In both cases, the objective of sustainable development is
explicitly stated.22 However, the coherence which is sought in today’s
international relations goes beyond the traditional approach of coher-
ence as mere “compatibility” between legal regimes. No one doubts
that trade agreements and MEAs are compatible, i.e. that the rights and
obligations contained therein (in those agreements) do not necessarily
exclude each other and that both regimes can find application.
Nevertheless, coherence entails and even requires a further step: that
is for trade agreements and MEAs to be “mutually supportive” or
“mutually reinforcing” legal regimes. As recognized more broadly by
the Tribunal in the Arbitration Regarding the Iron Rhine (“Ijzeren Rijn”)
Railway: “today, … international law require[s] the integration of

22
 See Preamble to the Agreement Establishing the World Trade Organization:
“Recognizing that their relations in the field of trade and economic endeavour should
be conducted with a view to raising standards of living, ensuring full employment and
a large and steadily growing volume of real income and effective demand, and expand-
ing the production of and trade in goods and services, while allowing for the optimal
use of the world’s resources in accordance with the objective of sustainable develop-
ment, seeking both to protect and preserve the environment and to enhance the means
for doing so in a manner consistent with their respective needs and concerns at differ-
ent levels of economic development …”. Available at http://www.wto.org/english/
docs_e/legal_e/04-wto_e.htm.
1620 laurence boisson de chazournes & makane m. mbengue

appropriate environmental measures in the design and implementa-

tion of economic development activities … . Environmental law
and the law on development stand not as alternatives but as mutually
reinforcing, integral concepts, which require that where development
may cause significant harm to the environment there is a duty to pre-
vent, or at least mitigate, such harm. This duty, in the opinion of the
Tribunal, has now become a principle of general international law”.23
Compatibility presupposes that each regime operates in isolation
from every other without any links being made between them (this
situation can be referred to as a “neutral relationship”). In other words,
MEAs would pursue environmental objectives without taking into
account trade agreements. And trade agreements would pursue com-
mercial objectives without integrating the substantive norms contained
in MEAs. Compatibility gives the image of a sort of “Cold War” state
between trade agreements and MEAs where only “peaceful coexist-
ence” is sought, with no trespassing allowed from one regime to
another. A good illustration of a regime articulated around compatibil-
ity is Annex 104 (Relation to Environmental and Conservation
Agreements) of the NAFTA, which reads as follows:
“1. In the event of any inconsistency between this Agreement and the
specific trade obligations set out in:
    a) the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of
Wild Fauna and Flora, done at Washington, March 3, 1973, as
amended June 22, 1979,
    b) the Montreal Protocol on Substances that Deplete the Ozone Layer,
done at Montreal, September 16, 1987, as amended June 29,
1990,
    c) the Basel Convention on the Control of Transboundary Movements
of Hazardous Wastes and Their Disposal, done at Basel, March 22,
1989, on its entry into force for Canada, Mexico and the United
States, or d) the agreements set out in Annex 104.1, such obliga-
tions shall prevail to the extent of the inconsistency, provided that
where a Party has a choice among equally effective and reasona-
bly available means of complying with such obligations, the Party
chooses the alternative that is the least inconsistent with the other
provisions of this Agreement”.24

23
Arbitration Regarding the Iron Rhine (“Ijzeren Rijn”) Railway (Belgium v. The
Netherlands), Permanent Court of Arbitration, Award of 24 May 2005, para. 59.
Available at http://www.pca-cpa.org/showpage.asp?pag_id=1155 (italics added).
24
 North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA), 17 December 1992, Article
104, available at http://www.nafta-sec-alena.org (italics added).
 a “footnote as a principle”1621

The Arbitral Tribunal in the S.D. Myers case confirmed that NAFTA
Annex 104 has to be read through the lens of a “compatibility” dynamic.
The tribunal stressed that “the drafters of the NAFTA evidentially con-
sidered which earlier environmental treaties would prevail over the
specific rules of the NAFTA in case of conflict. Annex 104 provided
that the Basel Convention would have priority if and when it was rati-
fied by the NAFTA Parties. Even if the Basel Convention were to have
been ratified by the NAFTA Parties, it should not be presumed that
CANADA would have been able to use it to justify the breach of a spe-
cific NAFTA provision because …where a party has a choice among
equally effective and reasonably available alternatives for complying…
with a Basel Convention obligation, it is obliged to choose the alternative
that is …least inconsistent… with the NAFTA. If one such alternative
were to involve no inconsistency with the Basel Convention, clearly
this should be followed”.25
However, the Arbitral Tribunal in the S.D. Myers case perceived
“compatibility” and “mutual supportiveness” as interchangeable con-
cepts, without giving its full meaning to mutual supportiveness. Indeed,
in the course of its reasoning, the tribunal asserted that “the Preamble
to the NAFTA, the NAAEC and the international agreements affirmed
in the NAAEC suggest that specific provisions of the NAFTA should be
interpreted in light of the following general principles: Parties have the
right to establish high levels of environmental protection. They are not
obliged to compromise their standards merely to satisfy the political or
economic interests of other states; Parties should avoid creating distor-
tions to trade; environmental protection and economic development
can and should be mutually supportive”.26 Nevertheless, the approach of
the tribunal was clearly not guided by a “mutual supportiveness”
perspective since it considered that priority should be given to trade
concerns. The tribunal considered that a “logical corollary” of the gen-
eral principles referred to in the previous quotation (among which is
the principle of mutual supportiveness) “is that where a state can
achieve its chosen level of environmental protection through a variety
of equally effective and reasonable means, it is obliged to adopt the

25
 In a NAFTA Arbitration under the UNCITRAL Arbitration Rules, S.D. Myers,
Inc. (Claimant) and Government of Canada (Respondent), Partial Award, 13 November
2000, 49–50, paras. 214–215, available at http://www.naftalaw.org/Disputes/Canada/
SDMyers/SDMyersMeritsAward.pdf (italics in original).
26
 Id., 50–51, para. 220 (italics added).
1622 laurence boisson de chazournes & makane m. mbengue

alternative that is most consistent with open trade. This corollary also is
consistent with the language and the case law arising out of the WTO
family of agreements”.27
Compatibility is usually also provided for in international agree-
ments through “safeguard clauses” which can read as follows: “the pro-
visions of this Convention shall not affect the rights and obligations of
any Contracting Party deriving from any existing international agree-
ment”28 or “the provisions of this Convention shall not affect the rights
and obligations of any Party deriving from a bilateral, regional or inter-
national agreement”.29
Here the subtle interaction between compatibility, “harmonization”
and the presumption against normative conflict appears. Indeed, the
above-mentioned safeguard clauses constitute a concrete legal formu-
lation of the presumption against normative conflict. It is interesting to
note that the ILC has not really perceived the autonomy and singularity
of mutual supportiveness as a means for dealing with fragmentation. In
its Report on fragmentation, the ILC mentions no fewer than forty-
four times the issue of “compatibility” and only about twenty times the
question of “coherence”, to conclude that “coherence is, however, a for-
mal and abstract virtue”.30 Moreover, compatibility is seen by the ILC
essentially as a necessary corollary of the so-called principle of harmo-
nization. In the Report on fragmentation it is pointed out that “when
two States have concluded two treaties on the same subject-matter, but
have said nothing of their mutual relationship, it is usual to first try to
read them as compatible (the principle of harmonization)”.31
Besides equalling compatibility with harmonization, the ILC con-
firms that compatibility (or harmonization) produces a sort of “neutral
relationship” between different treaty regimes. The Report underlines
that “between the parties, anything may be harmonized as long as the
will to harmonization is present. Sometimes, however, that will may not
be present, perhaps because the positions of the parties are so wide
apart from each other–something that may ensue from the impor­
tance of the clash of interests or preferences that is expressed in the
normative conflict, or from the sense that the harmonizing solution

27
 Id., 51, para. 221 (italics added).
28
 Convention on Biological Diversity, 5 June 1992, Article 22, para. 1.
29
 United Nations Convention to Combat Desertification, 17 June 1994, Article 8,
para. 2.
30
 Supra note 1, 248, at para. 491.
31
 Supra note 1, 118–119, at para. 229 (italics added).
 a “footnote as a principle”1623

would sacrifice the interests of the party in a weaker negotiation posi-

tion. In this respect, there is a limit to which a ‘coordinating’ solution
may be applied to resolve normative conflicts. Especially where a treaty
lays out clearly formulated rights or obligations to legal subjects, care
must be taken so as not to see these merely as negotiating chips in the
process of reaching a coordinating solution”.32
Mutual supportiveness absorbs the “coordinating solution” as an end
which has to be achieved by any necessary means. “Harmonization”
comprehends this “coordinating” or “harmonizing solution” as a means
which has to be put aside when it goes against the will of states or when
it deals with specific rights and obligations. In other words, on the one
hand, the ILC indicates that “harmonization” is strongly dependent on
the will of the parties to a dispute when the issue of so-called normative
conflicts arises between two states within the context of a dispute.
As such, for example, a judge or an arbitrator does not have discretion
in harmonizing different treaty regimes if the parties oppose it.
“Harmonization” or compatibility thus rests upon a subjective appre-
ciation. On the other hand, the ILC presupposes that “harmonization”
is materially almost impossible to implement whenever different rights
and obligations are at stake. In this perspective, “harmonization” seems
to be dependent on the existence of similar rights and obligations in
the two treaty regimes subject to harmonization.
By contrast, mutual supportiveness is based on an objective appre-
ciation. A judge or an arbitrator is not subject to the will of the parties
in deciding whether or not he/she should take mutual supportiveness
into consideration when different treaty regimes are at stake. And par-
ties to a dispute are supposed, not to say are bound, to foster in good
faith mutual supportiveness between instruments to which they are
parties.33 Moreover, mutual supportiveness does not focus on substan-
tive rights and obligations, but rather on the objectives pursued by dif-
ferent treaty regimes. In this context, mutual supportiveness implies
“peaceful and active cooperation” between various agreements, such as
trade agreements and MEAs. Mutual supportiveness means that while
focusing on their own tasks and competences, the trade and environ-
ment regimes should be “mutually reinforcing” since they are both

32
 Supra note 1, 27, at para. 42 (italics added).
33
 See the UNESCO Convention on the Protection and Promotion of the Diversity
of Cultural Expressions, 20 October 2005, available at http://portal.unesco.org/en/
ev.php-URL_ID=31038&URL_DO=DO_TOPIC&URL_SECTION=201.html.
1624 laurence boisson de chazournes & makane m. mbengue

seeking to achieve sustainable development. In order to maintain

mutual supportiveness, each framework should remain responsible
and competent for the issues falling within its primary area of
competence.34
The fact that the trade and environment regimes should each focus
on their primary competence does not mean, however, that the WTO
agreements, for instance, cannot deal with principles and rules which
affect the environment. At the same time, MEAs are not, and should
not be, prevented from including rules and principles that affect trade.
Rules and principles on international trade may indeed affect environ-
ment and health; similarly, MEAs may have an impact on trade.
Therefore, whilst each regime should focus on its primary competence,
it is not prevented from adopting measures which affect the other
regime. However, the concerns and interests of each regime should be
taken into account by the other one and deference35 should be paid to
the primary competence of the other regime in a spirit of mutual
supportiveness.
Concretely, for example, if there is a trade dispute over agricultural
biotechnologies, the WTO should have primary competence to deal
with that dispute and to apply and interpret trade agreements. However,
mutual supportiveness will require the WTO fully to take into account
the rules embodied in instruments and standards dealing with biotech-
nology in order to solve the dispute and to interpret WTO agreements.
As has been explained, “the interpretation must actually not just try to
avoid, or to interpret away, a conflict of norms; on the basis of its word-
ing it should result in support for the functioning of either of the two
treaties involved”.36
This is another difference from “harmonization” as conceived by the
ILC in its Report on fragmentation, since the latter has underscored
that “where a treaty lays out clearly formulated rights or obligations to

34
 See L. Boisson de Chazournes/M. M. Mbengue, Trade, Environment and
Biotechnology, in: T. Cottier/D. Wüger (eds.), Genetic Engineering: Challenges Posed
by a New Technology to the World Trading System, 229–237 (2007).
35
For an in-depth study of this concept see F. X. Perrez, The Cartagena Protocol on
Biosafety and the relationship between the multilateral trading system and multilateral
environmental agreements, 10 Swiss Review of International and European Law 518–
527 (2000).
36
P. J. Kuijper, Conflicting Rules and Clashing Courts: The Case of Multilateral
Environmental Agreements, Free Trade Agreements and the WTO, Issue Paper No. 10,
ICTSD Programme on Dispute Settlement, 15, para. 52 (2010), available at http://ictsd.
org/downloads/2010/11/j_kuijper_web_6.pdf (italics added).
 a “footnote as a principle”1625

legal subjects, care must be taken so as not to see these merely as negoti-
ating chips in the process of reaching a coordinating solution”.37 Rights
and obligations conferred by MEAs may be different from or comple-
mentary to rights and obligations contained in WTO Agreements but
they are not mutually exclusive. And if they are not mutually exclusive
they can be mutually supportive. As stated by the Arbitral Tribunal
Constituted under Annex VII of the United Nations Convention on
the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS) in the Southern Bluefin Tuna case, “…it
is a commonplace of international law and State practice for more than
one treaty to bear upon a particular dispute. … There is frequently a
parallelism of treaties, both in their substantive content and in their
provisions for settlement of disputes arising thereunder. The current
range of international legal obligations benefits from a process of accre-
tion and cumulation; …”.38
In sum, mutual supportiveness enhances “positive interaction”39 or
builds “constructive and interactive relationships”40 between trade and
environmental measures. Environmental treaties and trade agreements
are part of international law as a legal system. In that sense, environ-
mental treaties and trade agreements are subsystems which meet inter-
national law’s principle of normative integration, and in order to
remain a part of the international legal system, each of these specific
subsystems has to be able to “resist pressures to break away from it”.41
The best way of promoting such resistance is to focus on mutual sup-
portiveness. The principle of mutual supportiveness gives a specific
dynamic and rationale to the interface between trade agreements and
MEAs.
Mutual supportiveness excludes the very idea of conflict be
tween environmental treaties and other international agreements. It
presupposes various attitudes. It insists on the relevance of ex ante

37
 Supra note 1, 27, para. 42 (italics added).
38
Southern Bluefin Tuna (New Zealand v. Japan; Australia v. Japan), Award on
Jurisdiction and Admissibility, Decision of 4 August 2000, rendered by the Arbitral
Tribunal constituted under Annex VII of the United Nations Convention on the Law
of the Sea, para. 52, available at http://untreaty.un.org/cod/riaa/cases/vol_XXIII/1–57.
pdf.
39
 See Decision on Trade and Environment, 15 April 1994, Ministerial Decision,
available at http://www.wto.org/english/tratop_e/envir_e/issu5_e.htm.
40
 See WHO, International Trade and Health: Draft Resolution, Executive Board,
117th session, Doc. EB117/10, 1 December 2005, available at http://www.who.int/gb/
ebwha/pdf_files/EB117/B117_10-en.pdf.
41
Y. Shany, The Competing Jurisdictions of International Courts and Tribunals, 100
(2003).
1626 laurence boisson de chazournes & makane m. mbengue

coordination. In other words, when states negotiate new international

agreements they should pay attention to the fact that these instruments
should pay deference to preexisting international instruments. Ex
ante coordination42 might thus result in an ex post synchronization
between treaty regimes through the ranging of different substantive
rights and obligations under the chapeau of common or quasi-
common objectives (as for example sustainable development). For
instance, Article 21 (entitled: International consultation and coordina-
tion) of the 2005 UNESCO Convention on the Protection and
Promotion of the Diversity of Cultural Expressions provides that
“Parties undertake to promote the objectives and principles of this
Convention in other international forums. For this purpose, Parties
shall consult each other, as appropriate, bearing in mind these objec-
tives and principles”.43
It is reassuring to note that even the ILC considered in fine that the
approach based on conflicts of norms was not suitable when dealing
with different treaty regimes. Making its way towards the path of
mutual supportiveness, the ILC acknowledged that “international law
will need to operate within an area where the demands of coherence
and reasonable pluralism will point in different directions. In order for
it to do this successfully, increasing attention will have to be given to the
collision of norms and regimes and the rules, methods and techniques for
dealing with such collisions”.44 “Collisions” and no more mention of
“conflicts”. The use of a softer terminology also shows that something
more than the “principle of harmonization” is needed to deal with
instances of fragmentation in the international legal order. Mutual sup-
portiveness is at the forefront of such a need for convergence. Its legal
status is progressively shaped.

C. An ‘Impressionist’ Approach: Towards the Legalization of

Mutual Supportiveness

Mutual supportiveness is not a mere political slogan. Various interna-

tional instruments, albeit in the context of the “trade and environment

42
 See W. Czaplinski/G. Danilenko, Conflicts of Norms in International Law, 21
Netherlands Yearbook of International Law 12 (1990): “The best way of avoiding con-
flicts between treaties is to include compatibility clauses in the treaty texts”.
43
 Italics added.
44
 Supra note 1, 249, para. 493.
 a “footnote as a principle”1627

debate”, have incorporated the principle or concept of mutual support-

iveness. Here are some examples:
The Preamble to the Rotterdam Convention on the Prior Informed
Consent Procedure for Certain Hazardous Chemicals and Pesticides in
International Trade, 1998, states:
“Recognizing that trade and environmental policies should be mutually
supportive with a view to achieving sustainable development,
Emphasizing that nothing in this Convention shall be interpreted as
implying in any way a change in the rights and obligations of a Party
under any existing international agreement applying to chemicals in
international trade or to environment protection,
Understanding that the above recital is not intended to create a hierarchy
between this Convention and other international agreements … .”
The Preamble to the Cartagena Protocol on Biosafety to the Convention
on Biological Diversity, 2000, reads as follows:
“Recognizing that trade and environment agreements should be mutu-
ally supportive with a view to achieving sustainable development,
Emphasizing that this Protocol shall not be interpreted as implying a
change in the rights and obligations of a Party under any existing inter-
national agreements,
Understanding that the above recital is not intended to subordinate this
Protocol to other international agreements … .”
The Preamble to the Stockholm Convention on Persistent Organic
Pollutants (POPs), 2001, states:
“Recognizing that this Convention and other international agreements
in the field of trade and the environment are mutually supportive… .”
The Preamble to the International Treaty on Plant Genetic Resources
for Food and Agriculture, 2001, reads as follows:
“Recognizing that this Treaty and other international agreements rele-
vant to this Treaty should be mutually supportive with a view to sustain-
able agriculture and food security;
Affirming that nothing in this Treaty shall be interpreted as implying in
any way a change in the rights and obligations of the Contracting Parties
under other international agreements;
Understanding that the above recital is not intended to create a hierarchy
between this Treaty and other international agreements;
Aware that questions regarding the management of plant genetic
resources for food and agriculture are at the meeting point between
1628 laurence boisson de chazournes & makane m. mbengue

agriculture, the environment and commerce, and convinced that there

should be synergy among these sectors … .”
For its part, the WTO Doha Ministerial Declaration, 2001, states that:
“With a view to enhancing the mutual supportiveness of trade and envi-
ronment, we agree to negotiations, without prejudging their outcome, on:
(i) the relationship between existing WTO rules and specific trade obliga-
tions set out in multilateral environmental agreements (MEAs). The
negotiations shall be limited in scope to the applicability of such existing
WTO rules as among parties to the MEA in question. The negotiations
shall not prejudice the WTO rights of any Member that is not a party to
the MEA in question… .”45
The WTO Hong Kong Ministerial Declaration, 2005, reads as follows:
“We reaffirm the mandate in paragraph 31 of the Doha Ministerial
Declaration aimed at enhancing the mutual supportiveness of trade and
environment and welcome the significant work undertaken in the
Committee on Trade and Environment (CTE) in Special Session. We
instruct Members to intensify the negotiations, without prejudging their
outcome, on all parts of paragraph 31 to fulfill the mandate.
We recognize the progress in the work under paragraph 31(i) based on
Members’ submissions on the relationship between existing WTO rules
and specific trade obligations set out in multilateral environmental agree-
ments (MEAs). We further recognize the work undertaken under para-
graph 31(ii) towards developing effective procedures for regular
information exchange between MEA Secretariats and the relevant WTO
committees, and criteria for the granting of observer status”.46
The legal formulations of mutual supportiveness vary depending on
the instrument at stake. For instance, the 1998 Rotterdam Convention
on the Prior Informed Consent Procedure for Certain Hazardous
Chemicals and Pesticides in International Trade (PIC Convention) and
the 2000 Cartagena Protocol on Biosafety to the Convention on
Biological Diversity recognize “that trade and environmental policies
should be mutually supportive with a view to achieving sustainable
development”. The 2001 Stockholm Convention on Persistent Organic
Pollutants (POPs) goes further and is much more affirmative
when underlining that the POPs Convention “and other international
agreements in the field of trade and the environment are mutually

45
Para. 31, available at http://www.wto.org/english/thewto_e/minist_e/min01_e/
mindecl_e.doc (italics added).
46
Paras. 30 and 31, the Hong Kong Ministerial Declaration, 18 December 2005, is
available at http://www.wto.org/english/thewto_e/minist_e/min05_e/final_text_e.
htm.
 a “footnote as a principle”1629

supportive”. Some other treaties like the 2001 International Treaty on

Plant Genetic Resources for Food and Agriculture stress the need for a
“synergy” between environmental treaties and other international
agreements. Despite variations in formulations, all instruments
acknowledge that environmental treaties and other international agree-
ments pursue the same objective, i.e. the promotion of sustainable
development. They also all emphasize the absence of a hierarchy
between environmental treaties and other international agreements.
Two elements of the trade and environment relationship can be
deduced from these instruments: a “functional” element and a “rela-
tional” element. The “functional” element indicates that trade and
environment agreements pursue the same objective, i.e. the promotion
of sustainable development. The “relational” element deals with the
transversal character of the sectors regulated under trade and environ-
ment agreements. Because of their transversal aspect, many sectors are
a meeting point between environment and trade and create an intrinsic
relationship between the two domains.47 The “functional” and “rela-
tional” elements strengthen the principle according to which there is
no hierarchy between MEAs and trade agreements (in particular WTO
agreements), and both are of equal status in the international legal sys-
tem. They also emphasize that mutual supportiveness, and not just
mere “harmonization”, must be sought.
Therefore, mutual supportiveness appears to be the key which would
enable different treaty regimes to communicate through the same
doors when they pursue similar objectives, albeit through distinct
rights and obligations. This is another factor which showcases one of
the weaknesses of the ILC Report on fragmentation. The ILC consid-
ered that “inasmuch as the question of conflict arises regarding the ful-
filment of the objectives (instead of the obligations) of the different
instruments, little may be done by the relevant body”.48 However, some
treaty regimes purport (at least partially) to achieve similar objectives

47
M. Koskenniemi, Study on the Function and Scope of the Lex Specialis Rule and
the Question of ‘Self-Contained Regimes’, UN Doc. ILC(LVI)/SG/FIL/CRD.1/Add.1
(2004), at 3: “… denominations such as ‘trade law’ or ‘environmental law’ have no clear
boundaries. For example, maritime transport of oil links to both trade and environ-
ment. Should the obligations of a ship owner in regard to the technical particularities
of a ship, for instance, be determined by reference to what is reasonable from the per-
spective of oil transport considered as a commercial activity or as an environmentally
dangerous activity?”, available at http://untreaty.un.org/ilc/sessions/55/fragmentation
_outline.pdf.
48
 Supra note 1, 28, para. 43 (italics in the original).
1630 laurence boisson de chazournes & makane m. mbengue

(such as sustainable development). In such a case mutual supportive-

ness excludes the idea of hypothetical unsolvable conflicts of norms.
The approach of the ILC derives from the rationale it adopted in
its treatment of fragmentation. In the words of the Report on fragmen-
tation, “the rationale for the Commission’s treatment of fragmentation
is that the emergence of new and special types of law, so-called ‘self-
contained regimes’ and geographically or functionally limited treaty-
systems, creates problems of coherence in international law. …. The
emergence of ‘environmental law’, for example, is a response to growing
concern over the state of the international environment. ‘Trade law’
develops as an instrument to regulate international economic relations.
…. Each rule-complex or ‘regime’ comes with its own principles, its
own form of expertise and its own ‘ethos’, not necessarily identical to
the ethos of neighbouring specialization. ‘Trade law’ and ‘environmen-
tal law’, for example, have highly specific objectives and rely on princi-
ples that may often point in different directions”.49
Albeit comprehensible, this approach ignores the fact that mutual
supportiveness, rather than encouraging one to see treaty regimes as
“self-contained regimes”, advocates seeing those regimes as “cross-fer-
tilization regimes” (in French, régimes à vases communicants) being
governed by converging “ethos”. The ever-increasing acknowledgment
of mutual supportiveness in treaty practice dealing with trade and
environment is moving in this direction.
It is noteworthy that the principle of mutual supportiveness is being
progressively and expressly implemented in other areas. The 2005
UNESCO Convention on the Protection and Promotion of the
Diversity of Cultural Expressions is an illustration of the migration of
mutual supportiveness to new legal fields. That instrument achieved a
further step forward by, for the first time, including mutual supportive-
ness in the operative part of a treaty, i.e. among the core obligations and
not just in a preamble as used to be the case. Article 20 reads indeed as
follows:
“Article 20–Relationship to other treaties: mutual supportiveness, com-
plementarity and non-subordination
1. Parties recognize that they shall perform in good faith their obliga-
tions under this Convention and all other treaties to which they are
parties. Accordingly, …

 Supra note 1, 14, para. 15.

49
 a “footnote as a principle”1631

   (a) they shall foster mutual supportiveness between this Convention

and the other treaties to which they are parties (italics added); and
   (b) when interpreting and applying the other treaties to which they
are parties or when entering into other international obligations,
Parties shall take into account the relevant provisions of this
Convention.
2. Nothing in this Convention shall be interpreted as modifying rights
and obligations of the Parties under any other treaties to which they
are parties.”
Another step forward was taken with the adoption of the Nagoya
Protocol on Access to Genetic Resources and the Fair and Equitable
Sharing of Benefits Arising from their Utilization to the Convention on
Biological Diversity (ABS Protocol) by the Tenth Conference of the
Parties to the Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD COP 10).50
This protocol shows a pioneering and new approach in respect of the
incorporation of mutual supportiveness in international instruments.
Indeed, the ABS Protocol embodies the principle of mutual support-
iveness both in its preamble and in its operative part. The preamble to
the ABS Protocol states:
“Recognizing that international instruments related to access and bene-
fit-sharing should be mutually supportive with a view to achieving the
objectives of the Convention… .”
And Article 4, para. 3 of the ABS Protocol provides:
“This Protocol shall be implemented in a mutually supportive manner
with other international instruments relevant to this Protocol. Due
regard should be paid to useful and relevant ongoing work or practices
under such international instruments and relevant international organi-
zations, provided that they are supportive of and do not run counter to
the objectives of the Convention and this Protocol.”
The second sentence in Article 4, para. 3 of the ABS Protocol, accord-
ing to which “due regard should be paid to useful and relevant ongoing
work or practices under such international instruments and relevant
international organizations, provided that they are supportive of and do
not run counter to the objectives of the Convention and this Protocol”
(italics added), stresses the emergence of a new dimension. Traditional

50
 Nagoya Protocol on Access to Genetic Resources and the Fair and Equitable
Sharing of Benefits Arising from their Utilization to the Convention on Biological
Diversity, 29 October 2010, Conference of the Parties to the Convention on Biological
Diversity, Nagoya, Japan, Tenth meeting, 18–29 October 2010, available at http://www.
cbd.int/nagoya/outcomes.
1632 laurence boisson de chazournes & makane m. mbengue

formulations of mutual supportiveness have often been limited to

reminding one that there was no subordination of the environment
regime vis-à-vis the trade regime. The ABS Protocol goes a step further.
It requires the trade and other international legal regimes positively
and actively to promote the objectives of the ABS Protocol in a
mutually supportive manner in case they want the parties to the ABS
Protocol to be supportive of their objectives. This entails deeper ex
ante coordination and more ex post synchronization between treaty
regimes.
Free Trade Agreements (FTAs) also incorporate the principle of mutual
supportiveness for dealing with environmental protection. For exam-
ple, Article 17.12 of the 2004 Central America-Dominican Republic-
United States Free Trade Agreement (CAFTA) reads as follows:51
“The Parties recognize that multilateral environmental agreements to
which they are all party play an important role in protecting the environ-
ment globally and domestically and that their respective implementation
of these agreements is critical to achieving the environmental objectives
of these agreements. The Parties further recognize that this Chapter and
the ECA can contribute to realizing the goals of those agreements.
Accordingly, the Parties shall continue to seek means to enhance the
mutual supportiveness of multilateral environmental agreements to which
they are all party and trade agreements to which they are all party.”
Some other recent FTAs like the 2008 FTA between Canada and the
European Free Trade Association (EFTA) recognize in their preambles
“the need for mutually supportive trade and environmental policies in
order to achieve the objective of sustainable development”.52
In the field of investment protection, some voices are promoting the
principle of mutual supportiveness. The 2005 IISD Model International
Agreement on Investment for Sustainable Development provides that
“the Parties agree that the provisions of other international trade agree-
ments to which they are a Party are consistent with the provisions of
this Agreement. The Parties shall seek to interpret such agreements in

51
The text of the Central America-Dominican Republic-United States Free Trade
Agreement, 5 August 2004, is available at http://www.caftaintelligencecenter.com/
subpages/What_is_CAFTA.asp (italics added).
52
Free Trade Agreement Between Canada and the States of the European Free
Trade Association (Iceland, Liechtenstein, Norway and Switzerland), 1 July 2009,
available at http://www.international.gc.ca/trade-agreements-accords-commerciaux/
agr-acc/efta-aele.aspx.
 a “footnote as a principle”1633

a mutually supportive manner”.53 In the commentary attached to that

provision it is said, “this Article sends an important legal signal that the
Parties or a dispute settlement panel should interpret this agreement to
be consistent with trade agreements where there are overlapping provi-
sions, and should interpret those provisions in trade agreements to be
consistent with this agreement. It seeks a mutually supportive approach
in the event of potential conflicts.”54
A further step forward in the process of legalization will be achieved
by a clear recognition of the principle of mutual supportiveness by
international courts and tribunals. For the time being, mutual support-
iveness has not yet benefited from explicit recognition. Nevertheless,
the analysis and assessment of the process of “legalization” of the prin-
ciple of mutual supportiveness based on an impressionist approach
allows one to grasp the wide array of its manifestations and expres-
sions. Beyond the words per se, mutual supportiveness is above all a
“spirit”. Looking carefully at the practice of the WTO dispute-settle-
ment bodies, one cannot ignore the “spirit” of mutual supportiveness
which speaks out from some reports.
Think, for example, of the decision of the Appellate Body in the
Brazil–Tyres case in which the Appellate Body clearly recognized that
“certain complex public health or environmental problems may be
tackled only with a comprehensive policy comprising a multiplicity
of interacting measures. In the short-term, it may prove difficult to iso-
late the contribution to public health or environmental objectives of
one specific measure from those attributable to the other measures that
are part of the same comprehensive policy. Moreover, the results
obtained from certain actions–for instance, measures adopted in order
to attenuate global warming and climate change, or certain preventive
actions to reduce the incidence of diseases that may manifest them-
selves only after a certain period of time–can only be evaluated with
the benefit of time.”55 This acknowledgment of environmental com-
plexity could play a vital role in building bridges between environment

53
H. Mann et al. (eds.), IISD Model International Agreement on Investment for
Sustainable Development, Article 34, at 47 (2nd ed. 2005), available at http://www.iisd
.org/pdf/2005/investment_model_int_handbook.pdf.
54
 Id.
55
Brazil–Measures Affecting Imports of Retreaded Tyres, Report of the Appellate
Body, WT/DS332/AB/R, 17 December 2007, para. 151.
1634 laurence boisson de chazournes & makane m. mbengue

treaties and trade agreements. Perhaps the future of mutual support-

iveness lies in a sort of informal integration of that principle, but with a
formal purpose, which is to strengthen the ties between environment
treaties and trade agreements.56 This informal integration can be chan-
nelled through treaty interpretation.

D. Modes of Treaty Interpretation as Vehicles for Mutual

Supportiveness

One cannot but agree with the ILC when it states in its Report on frag-
mentation that mutual supportiveness could be seen as a technique
appropriate to play down the “sense of conflict and to read the relevant
materials from the perspective of their contribution to some generally
shared–‘systemic’–objective”.57 Such a statement paves the way for a dif-
ferent approach in treaty interpretation when dealing with two or more
distinct treaty regimes.
The prevailing approach has been to consider that an adequate path-
way to prevent so-called conflicts between two distinct treaty regimes
was Article 31.3 c) of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties
(1969). Article 31.3 c) allows one when interpreting a conventional
instrument (e.g. a WTO agreement like the GATT) to take into account
another conventional instrument (e.g. a MEA like the Cartagena
Protocol on Biosafety to the Convention on Biological Diversity). In
that perspective, the latter instrument is conceived as a “relevant rule of
international law applicable in the relations between the parties”.
Using the gateway of Article 31.3 c) of the Vienna Convention on the
Law of Treaties might be useful in some circumstances to promote
mutual supportiveness between treaty regimes. However, it quickly
appears that Article 31.3 c) may also be too formalistic to foster infor-
mal integration of mutual supportiveness. Indeed, the expression
“applicable in the relations between the parties” can have a perverse
effect by limiting the array of treaty instruments that may be taken into
account to ensure coherence with other distinct treaty regimes. The
limitation would result from the fact that “applicable in the relations
between the parties” implies that before a treaty is considered by a

56
 See L. Boisson de Chazournes, Environmental Treaties in Time, 39 Environmental
Policy and Law 290, at 293–298 (2009).
57
 Supra note 1, 207, para. 412 (italics added).
 a “footnote as a principle”1635

treaty interpreter in the light of the principle of mutual supportiveness,

he/she has first to make sure that all states are parties to that treaty.
Albeit limited in the scope of application, such an approach, relying on
what may be called the “external context” of a treaty (i.e. rules binding
parties to a treaty outside the regime of that treaty), is sometimes
favoured in practice. For instance, Article 17.12 of the 2004 Central
America–Dominican Republic–United States Free Trade Agreement
(CAFTA) which was referred to above58 embodies this approach:
“The Parties recognize that multilateral environmental agreements to
which they are all party play an important role in protecting the environ-
ment globally and domestically and that their respective implementation
of these agreements is critical to achieving the environmental objectives
of these agreements. The Parties further recognize that this Chapter and
the ECA can contribute to realizing the goals of those agreements.
Accordingly, the Parties shall continue to seek means to enhance the
mutual supportiveness of multilateral environmental agreements to which
they are all party and trade agreements to which they are all party” (italics
added).
This is a rather minimal implementation of mutual supportiveness
since it is materially impossible that parties to MEAs will always be
mutatis mutandis parties to the same trade agreements and parties to
trade agreements will be parties to the same MEAs. The WTO Panel in
the European Communities–Measures Affecting the Approval and
Marketing of Biotech Products case has been eager to strengthen the
legitimacy of a “take it all or leave it all” approach when it comes to
mutual supportiveness. The European Union, which was one of the
parties to the EC – Biotech case, argued before the Panel that it should
interpret WTO agreements in light of the Cartagena Protocol on
Biosafety since the dispute related to genetically modified organisms
(GMOs) and it was a party to it. The Panel swept aside that argument
and stressed that in light of the wording of Article 31.3 c) of the Vienna
Convention on the Law of Treaties it could take into account only those
instruments to which all WTO members were parties.59 A more plausi-
ble understanding of Article 31.3 c) would at least have been to under-
stand the reference to “parties” as parties to that dispute.60

58
 See supra note 51.
59
European Communities–Measures Affecting the Approval and Marketing of Biotech
Products, Report of the WTO Panel, WT/DS291/R-293/R, 29 September 2006, paras.
7.67–7.71.
60
 See supra note 1, 226–228, paras. 448–450.
1636 laurence boisson de chazournes & makane m. mbengue

Another gateway in treaty interpretation, more susceptible of rein-

forcing mutual supportiveness between treaty regimes, is provided by
Article 31.1 of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties. Article
31.1 sets the primary and necessary step in treaty interpretation: “[a]
treaty shall be interpreted in good faith in accordance with the ordi-
nary meaning to be given to the terms of the treaty in their context and
in the light of its object and purpose”. Article 31.1 is traditionally not
seen as a means of fostering coherence between treaty regimes. This is
because it is usually perceived as dealing with coherence within a treaty
regime as such and not with coherence vis-à-vis another treaty regime.
To put it in concrete terms, when a treaty interpreter proceeds to inter-
pret under Article 31.1 of the Vienna Convention on the Law of
Treaties, he/she is concerned with clarifying the meaning, the scope
and the effect of the provisions contained in the treaty which is subject
to interpretation. The treaty interpreter is not primarily seeking to
build coherence between that treaty and other treaties (coherence vis-
à-vis another treaty regime).
Yet Article 31.1 of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties can
serve as a pathway par excellence for mutual supportiveness. Article
31.1 focuses on the “internal context” of treaties, that is to say, rules and
principles that parties to a treaty are bound to implement in light of a
given treaty regime. Within the internal context of treaties, one main
vector of mutual supportiveness is the object and purpose of a treaty.
Indeed, the ILC saw mutual supportiveness as a tool “to read the rele-
vant materials from the perspective of their contribution to some gener-
ally shared–‘systemic’–objective”.61
Using the rationale of Article 31.1 of the Vienna Convention on the
Law of Treaties as a means of ensuring mutual supportiveness implies
that a treaty interpreter, when faced with an issue (or a subject-matter)
under a given treaty regime (e.g. WTO law), should ipso jure take into
consideration other treaty regimes (e.g. MEAs) which also govern the
issue and are part of the same “internal context”.62 As an illustration, a
WTO Panel and/or the WTO Appellate Body when dealing with ques-
tions in relation to risk assessment of GMOs, can duly take into account

 Supra note 1, 207, para. 412 (italics added).

61

 L. Boisson de Chazournes/M. M. Mbengue, A propos du principe du soutien

62

mutuel–Les relations entre le protocole de Cartagena et les accords de l’OMC, 4 Revue

Générale de Droit International Public 829–862 (2007).
 a “footnote as a principle”1637

within the context of the SPS Agreement63 the procedure of risk assess-
ment as embodied in the Cartagena Protocol.64 Both WTO law and the
Cartagena Protocol pursue the objective of sustainable development
(“shared systemic objective”). And both WTO law and the Cartagena
Protocol are confronted here with the same subject-matter, i.e. assess-
ing the risks relating to the international trade in GMOs (which can be
renamed a “shared specific subject-matter” or “shared specific trade
obligations (STOs)”). Owing to their similar object(s) and purpose(s),
mutual supportiveness can be sought between distinct treaty regimes
by a treaty interpreter without having to consider whether or not the
states concerned by the interpretation are parties to the same treaties.
To sum up on the basis of the GMOs example, since WTO law and
the Cartagena Protocol “share” the objective of sustainable develop-
ment, an interpretation relying upon the object and purpose of WTO
law under Article 31.1 would necessarily lead to taking the Cartagena
Protocol into account and vice versa. In the same vein, since WTO law
and the Cartagena Protocol target trade, an interpretation relying upon
the object and purpose of WTO law under Article 31.1 would neces-
sarily integrate the Cartagena Protocol and vice versa. This is the quin-
tessence of mutual supportiveness under Article 31.1 of the Vienna
Convention on the Law of Treaties. It allows one to transcend the for-
malistic veil of Article 31.3 c) of the Vienna Convention on the Law of
Treaties and to build coherence within the international legal order. It
also guarantees that every interpretation and application of a particular
treaty regime takes into account the “contemporary concerns of the
community of nations”65 as reflected in other treaty regimes. This is
what mutual supportiveness is militating for. Its importance in an era
of fragmentation of international law needs not to be underlined.

63
 On the SPS Agreement see A. Seibert-Fohr, WTO–Technical Barriers and SPS
Measures, in: R. Wolfrum/P.-T. Stoll (eds.), Max Planck Commentaries on World
Trade Law, Vol. 2, at 564 (2007).
64
 On this point see L. Boisson de Chazournes/M. M. Mbengue, A propos des con-
vergences entre le Protocole de Cartagena et les Accords de l’Organisation mondiale du
commerce (OMC), 20 Revue québécoise de droit international 1–40 (2009).
65
 United States–Import Prohibition of Certain Shrimp and Shrimp Products,
Report of the WTO Appellate Body, WT/DS58/AB/R, 12 October 1998, para.129.
 Affected Individuals in Proceedings before
the ICJ, the ITLOS and the ECHR

Burkhard Hess & Astrid Wiik

A. Introduction

International law generally applies to legal relations and disputes

among states. In many cases, however, international disputes actually
arise out of litigation in domestic courts between private parties. In
some of these cases, especially in the context of diplomatic protection,
one or both parties to the national proceedings may not be represented
at the international level but nevertheless may be affected by the deci-
sion of the international court. This is especially the case if the interna-
tional judgment obliges the state to implement its decision in a manner
which will either modify the ongoing domestic proceedings or affect
the enforceability of the judgment issued.1
Representation and standing of individuals before international
courts is not a new issue.2 However, recent developments in interna-
tional law with regard to the position of individuals, especially in the
context of human rights and investment protection, lead to the ques-
tion whether the position of affected individuals should be strength-
ened at the international level, in that these individuals should be given
the opportunity to present their views and arguments directly to the
international court concerned with their case. Although it is still valid
to assume that states generally defend and represent the interests of
their nationals satisfactorily in international disputes, it is argued that
the individual affected by the outcome of the case should have his/her
own say in the proceedings. At least from the perspective of private
international law, the quasi-total shielding of the individual from dis-
putes before inter-state courts does not correspond to the increased
importance of procedural human rights like access to justice and fair

1
It is in this regard only that the term “affected individual” is used.
2
I. Brownlie, The Individual before Tribunals Exercising International Jurisdiction,
11 The International and Comparative Law Quarterly 701 (1962); G. Dahm/
J. Delbrück/R.Wolfrum (eds.), Völkerrecht, Vol. I/2 (2nd ed. 2002), at 260.
1640 burkhard hess & astrid wiik

trial which has largely evolved since the second half of the 20th
century.3
This article addresses the issue concerning disputes arising out of
domestic civil actions with regard to three international bodies: the
International Court of Justice (ICJ), the International Tribunal for the
Law of the Sea (ITLOS) and the European Court of Human Rights
(ECHR). It discusses recent cases and explores procedural mechanisms
and the courts’ investigative powers which may be used to permit the
affected individual to present his/her own views on the case to the tri-
bunal. The contribution is dedicated to Rüdiger Wolfrum who is famil-
iar with the cross-fertilization of public and private international law
with regard to dispute resolution. Thanks to Rüdiger’s promotion and
inspiration, the International Max Planck Research School on
Successful Dispute Resolution explores the interfaces between dispute
settlements in both areas. Astrid Wiik who assisted me in preparing
this article is a doctoral student of the school and currently working on
her thesis on the amicus curiae before international courts and
tribunals.
Before addressing the legal position of individuals in the different
international courts and tribunals, it seems appropriate to address one
fundamental issue. One might argue that the separation of interna-
tional and municipal law does not require any participation of the indi-
vidual in international proceedings. This argument may be reinforced
by the fact that decisions of international courts and tribunals do not
bind the individual, but only the States Parties to the respective
case. Yet this assumption seems to be too formalistic. The most promi-
nent example is the European Court of Human Rights. According to
Article 46 ECHR, the judgments of the Court bind only the contracting
parties. The Committee of Ministers of the Council of Europe has the
task of supervising the implementation of the judgments. However,
many member states have adopted provisions in their domestic sys-
tems which provide for direct effect: if the ECHR holds that the
Convention has been infringed by German civil courts, the affected
party may ask that the civil judgment is set aside–even if it has become
res judicata (Section 580 no. 8 Code of Civil Procedure). The legal situ-
ation is identical in criminal matters (Section 359 no. 6 Code of

3
A. del Vecchio, International Courts and Tribunals, Standing, in: R. Wolfrum
(ed.), The Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law, Oxford University
Press (2008), online edition http://www.mpepil.com.
 affected individuals in proceedings1641

Criminal Procedure). These provisions are more stringent than the

case law of the German Constitutional Court.4
As far as judgments of the International Court of Justice are con-
cerned, Article 59 of the Statute provides that only the States Parties to
the respective case are bound by the judgment. No additional mecha-
nism prescribes modalities of implementation at the national level. In
practice, states bound by a judgment of the ICJ generally undertake to
comply with the judgment at the domestic level. The implementation
may entail ongoing enforcement proceedings at the domestic level
being stayed even before the ICJ issues a judgment.5
The procedural situation in respect of the International Tribunal for
the Law of the Sea is more complex. Although Article 296, para. 1, of
UNCLOS only provides for the binding effect of judgments among the
States Parties to the dispute–and to that extent follows the model of the
ICJ6–Article 39 of the ITLOS Statute determines with regard to deci-
sions of the Seabed Disputes Chamber “the decisions of the Chamber
shall be enforceable in the territories of the States Parties in the same
manner as judgments or orders of the highest court of the State Party
in whose territory the enforcement is sought.” The rationale underlying
this exceptional direct binding effect is the economic character of
states’ activities in the exploration and exploitation of the seabed which
forms the subject matter to be adjudged by the Chamber.7
Against this background, it seems difficult to assert that decisions of
international courts as such do not affect the legal position of private

4
In the famous Görgülü Case the German Constitutional Court held that German
civil courts are bound by the decisions of the ECHR; see 2 BvR 1481/04, BVerfGE 111,
307; 1 BvR 2790/04, Neue Juristische Wochenschrift 2685 (2005), see G. Lübbe-Wolff,
ECHR and national jurisdiction–The Görgülü Case, Humboldt Law Forum 12 (2006).
See also § 407, para. 1 No. 7, of the Civil Procedural Code of Norway and Section 6 of
the European Convention Act 1987 (Act No. XIV) of Malta, cf. M. Hartwig, Much Ado
About Human Rights: The Federal Constitutional Court Confronts the European
Court of Human Rights, 6 German Law Journal 869, at 879 et seq. (2005).
5
 See the express decree by the Italian legislature of 29 April 2010 referred to further
below.
6
Article 296 of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, 10 December
1982, 1833 UNTS 397, hereinafter “UNCLOS”, states: “(1) Any decision by a court or
tribunal having jurisdiction under this section shall be final and shall be complied with
by all the parties to the dispute. (2) Any such decision shall have no binding
force except between the parties and in respect of that particular dispute.” Similarly
Article 33 of the ITLOS Statute: “(1)The decision of the Tribunal is final and shall be
complied with by all the parties to the dispute. (2) The decision shall have no binding
force except between the parties in respect of that particular dispute.”
7
 S. Talmon, Der Internationale Seegerichtshof in Hamburg als Mittel der friedli-
chen Beilegung seerechtlicher Streitigkeiten, Juristische Schulung 550 (2001).
1642 burkhard hess & astrid wiik

claimants in domestic proceedings. Furthermore, according to long-

standing practice, states are empowered to represent and settle the
claims of their nationals and to put an end to domestic disputes.8
Although individuals cannot avoid such settlements at the interna-
tional level, their participation in the international proceedings seems
to be a compelling issue in order to preserve their right to be heard in
any proceeding affecting their legal position.9

B. The International Court of Justice

Two of the cases currently pending before the International Court of

Justice concern the constellation presented: Jurisdictional Immunities
of the State (Germany v. Italy) and Jurisdiction and Enforcement of
Judgments in Civil and Commercial Matters (Belgium v. Switzerland).
The first case concerns proceedings by the Federal Republic of
Germany against the Italian Republic10 arising out of alleged breaches
of Germany’s jurisdictional immunity by Italian courts. Several Italian
courts awarded damages to victims of Nazi war crimes during the
German occupation of Italy from 1943 to 1945.11 At the heart of the
domestic cases lies the Ferrini judgment of 3 November 2004 in which
the Corte di Cassazione rejected Germany’s claims for jurisdictional
immunity and held that Italian courts had jurisdiction over damages
claims of victims who were deported and subjected to forced labour
in the armaments industry in Germany during World War II. Several
8
 B. Hess, Kriegsentschädigungen aus kollisionsrechtlicher und völkerrechtlicher
Sicht, 40 Berichte der Deutschen Gesellschaft für Völkerrecht 107, 132 et seq. (2003).
9
 On the right to be heard as one of the cornerstones of public international proce-
dural law see M. Benzing, Das Beweisrecht vor internationalen Gerichten und
Schiedsgerichten in zwischenstaatlichen Streitigkeiten, 116 et seq. (2010).
10
Jurisdictional Immunities of the State (Germany v. Italy), Application Instituting
Proceedings of 23 December 2008, available at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/
files/143/14923.pdf. The case was brought to the ICJ under Article 1 of the European
Convention for the Peaceful Settlement of Disputes adopted on 29 April 1957 by the
members of the Council of Europe, available at http://conventions.coe.int/treaty/en/
Treaties/Html/023.htm.
11
All in all, approximately 250 claimants initiated civil proceedings before 24 differ-
ent Italian courts and Germany expects further cases to arise; see supra note 10, at 16,
para. 12. In addition, Greek judgments awarding damages for war crimes committed
by German soldiers during World War II in Greece had been declared enforceable
by Italian courts. With regard to this aspect of the case, Greece requested permission
to intervene in the proceedings before the ICJ on 17 January 2011, available at
http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/143/16294.pdf. and http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/
files/143/16304.pdf. Permission to intervene was granted by order of 4 July 2011, avail-
able at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/143/16562.pdf.
 affected individuals in proceedings1643

further court decisions issued in 2008 confirmed the judgment.12

Furthermore, enforcement measures have been taken against
Germany’s property in Italy.13 Although acknowledging its general
responsibility for acts committed by Drittes Reich officials, Germany
argues that its jurisdictional immunity in foreign civil courts has been
violated by these proceedings.14 It requests the ICJ to order Italy to take
all appropriate measures to ensure that the decisions infringing
Germany’s jurisdictional immunity become unenforceable and to
ensure that Italian courts do not entertain such actions in the future.15
The decision of the ICJ will have far-reaching consequences for the
claimants to the national proceedings. If the ICJ rules in favour of
Germany, unenforced judgments awarding damages will become
unenforceable, rendering them practically useless. Moreover, the
Italian legislature passed an express decree on 29 April 2010 to modify
the Italian procedural law. According to the decree, measures to enforce
a judgment against a state have to be adjourned if that state has initi-
ated proceedings before the ICJ to assert its state immunity. Thus, the
individuals engaged in current proceedings or seeking to enforce their
title have a direct interest in the outcome of the case. The motivation to
present their views to the ICJ is presumably intensified by the fact that
the Italian government, representing their interests, is largely of the
same views as the German government with regard to the outcome of
the case. Thus, in this case there seems to be a real risk that the views of
the parties to the national proceedings not engaged before the ICJ will
not be properly brought to the attention of the Court.16

12
 For further information on the national proceedings see F. Moneta, State
Immunity for International Crimes: The Case of Germany versus Italy before the ICJ,
available at http://www.haguejusticeportal.net.
13
In particular, a “judicial mortgage” was recorded in the Italian land register on the
“Villa Vigoni”, the famous German-Italian Centre for cultural exchange.
14
 Notably, the relevant time for the assessment of the violation is the time of
the lodging of the claims before the Italian courts, not the time of the commission
of the crimes. Otherwise the ICJ would lack jurisdiction ratione temporis, cf. Article 27
of the European Convention for the Peaceful Settlement of Disputes.
15
 Supra note 10, at 18, para. 14.
16
 Note the Joint Declaration adopted by Germany and Italy during the German-
Italian Governmental Consultations in Trieste in 2008, in which both govern­
ments ensured that they “share the ideals of reconciliation, solidarity and integration,
which form the basis of the European construction”. Germany further underlined
that it “fully acknowledges the untold suffering inflicted on Italian men and women”
during World War II. Italy further stated that it “respects” Germany’s decision to
apply to the ICJ in this matter; ICJ Press Release No. 2008/44 of 23 December
2008, available at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/143/14925.pdf. The intervention
1644 burkhard hess & astrid wiik

The second case was brought by the Kingdom of Belgium against

Switzerland on 21 December 2009.17 It arose out of the bankruptcy of
the former Belgian national airline Sabena in 2001 and ensuing parallel
judicial proceedings in Belgium and Switzerland.18 First, civil proceed-
ings were initiated in the Belgian courts by the Belgian state, one of the
main shareholders in Sabena,19 against Swissair, the other main share-
holder, for damages as the result of violations of management and
financing contracts concerning Sabena. Shortly thereafter, Swissair
applied for a debt-restructuring moratorium before the Swiss courts to
which the Belgian shareholders were not admitted. The Belgian share-
holders subsequently initiated proceedings in Switzerland with a view
to staying the Swiss restructuring proceedings on the basis of the
Lugano Convention of 198820 and awaiting the outcome of the Belgian
proceedings on the civil liability of the Swiss shareholders. Finally, the
case went to the Swiss Federal Supreme Court, which held that
the Swiss proceedings should not be stayed as any decision issued by
the Belgian courts on the liability of the Swiss shareholders would not
be recognized in Switzerland.21 As a result of this outcome, Belgium
applied to the ICJ. The Belgian government requested the ICJ to find,
first, that Switzerland should take all appropriate steps to recognize
the future Belgian decision on the liability of Swissair within the

by Greece may indirectly strengthen the position of the affected individuals as Greece
may represent their arguments on the basis of diplomatic protection. Yet, the request to
intervene by the Greek Government is not clear in this respect.
17
Jurisdiction and Enforcement of Judgments in Civil and Commercial Matters
(Belgium v. Switzerland), Application Instituting Proceedings of 21 December 2009,
available at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/145/15763.pdf. The Memorials will not
be published before the opening of the oral proceedings in the case. The case was
removed from the list on 5 April 2011, available at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/
files/145/16460.pdf.
18
 For a detailed account of the facts of the case see B.-J. van het Kaar/G. Kaplan,
Airline dispute lands in ICJ: A commentary on the Swissair/Sabena case, available at
http://www.haguejusticeportal.net.
19
 Shares are also held by three companies in which Belgium holds the shares.
20
 Lugano Convention on Jurisdiction and the Enforcement of Judgments in
Civil and Commercial Matters of 16 September 1988, full text available at http://
curia.europa.eu/common/recdoc/convention/en/c-textes/lug-idx.htm. See B. Hess,
Europäisches Zivilprozessrecht, § 5 II, paras. 29 et seq. (2010).
21
The Swiss Federal Court relied on two arguments. It argued that the Lugano
Convention was not applicable to the Swiss proceedings as these proceedings con-
cerned bankruptcy which is explicitly excluded from the scope of the Lugano
Convention. Also, it found that Swiss courts had exclusive jurisdiction over any dispute
regarding the schedule of claims and the inclusion of the Belgian shareholders’ claims,
including their verification. Thus, any foreign judgment concerning the claims could
not be recognised; B.-J. van het Kaar/G. Kaplan, supra note 18.
 affected individuals in proceedings1645

debt-restructuring proceedings, and, secondly, that Switzerland should

take all measures necessary to ensure that Swiss courts would stay their
proceedings pending the conclusion of the Belgian proceedings.22 The
outcome of the ICJ decision influenced the outcome and the conduct of
the national proceedings between the parties. While it may be argued
that the interests of the Belgian shareholders would have been well rep-
resented by the Belgian government given the identity of the party in
the national and international proceedings–the Belgian state–this may
not have held for the other parties. There, the Swiss government was
called upon to represent not only the interests of Switzerland but also
those of Swissair, the party to the national proceedings.
This leads to the question of what, if any, mechanisms exist for
affected individuals in domestic proceedings to present their own
views (and interests in the case) to the Court.23 This question is deter-
mined by the constituent instruments of the ICJ. However, neither the
UN Charter nor the Statute or the Rules of the ICJ contain an explicit
rule permitting such participation by non-state actors, and the ICJ still
prefers to follow a strictly bilateral concept of international dispute
resolution in which the procedural powers rest mainly on the parties.24
Furthermore, pursuant to Article 34, para. 1, of the Statute only states
enjoy locus standi in contentious proceedings before the Court.
However, this limitation does not generally rule out any form of appear-
ance by non-state actors before the world court as the French text of the
provision may suggest.25 It only confines to states the capacity of those
able to bring a case to the court as parties.

22
 Supra note 17, 9 et seq., para. 50.
23
This underlines that the normal way for an affected person to make his/her views
known to the Court is to petition his/her government to present his/her views. This
informal mechanism is not very reliable and potentially useless in cases where the
views of the affected individual do not correspond to those of his/her government.
24
This concept has been criticized as inapt to deal with today’s reality of interna-
tional dispute settlement due to the large number of states, the growing number of
non-state actors involved in international disputes and matters which transcend a
bilateral perspective, such as environmental disputes or disputes relating to global
trade; C. Chinkin, Third Parties in International Law, at 2 et seq. (1993).
25
The French Article 34, para. 1, reads: “Seuls les Etats ont qualité pour se presenter
devant la Cour.” It has been suggested that this term may refer to the general ability to
“appear” before the Court in any manner. However, the historical background of the
provision does not support such an understanding, as locus standi was used solely to
determine the capacity of a party, for which the final judgment will become binding.
The main rationale of the norm was to exclude the possibility for individuals to bring
states before the Permanent Court of Justice, the ICJ’s predecessor. Cf. S. Rosenne,
Reflections on the Position of the Individual in Inter-State Litigation, in: P. Sanders
1646 burkhard hess & astrid wiik

Several norms pierce this bilateral concept in contentious proceed-

ings and allow for the inclusion of views and interests other than those
of the parties. These provisions mainly concern other states, not party
to the proceedings. Article 62 of the ICJ Statute, for instance, permits
so-called discretionary intervention26 in cases where a “state consider[s]
that it has an interest of a legal nature which may be affected by the
decision in the case”. While this provision is limited to state actors, it
shows that the Court does, if a legal interest is concerned, provide for
a mechanism to take into account views apart from those of the origi-
nal parties. Notably, the legal interest need not be a legal right. But it
must belong to the intervener and may not be too general in nature.27
Another rule providing for non-party participation is Article 34,
para. 2, of the Statute. It permits public international organizations,
upon request or their own initiative, to submit information relevant to
the case before the ICJ. Article 69, para. 4, of the Rules of Court clarifies
that this term denotes only “an international organization of States”,
thereby excluding non-state actors such as the affected private persons
at issue here.28 No further rules provide for the participation of affected
entities.
Nevertheless, the inclusion of the affected individual could take the
informal form of amicus curiae participation. Amicus curiae29 is defined
as a person who is not a party to proceedings but who, upon request by

(ed.), International Arbitration–Liber Amicorum for Martin Domke, 240, at 244

(1967); A. del Vecchio supra note 3, paras. 1, 6–13.
26
The so-called intervention as of right under Article 63 concerns cases in which
the interpretation of a convention is at issue. For more information on intervention
before the ICJ see K. Günther, Zulässigkeit und Grenzen der Intervention bei
Streitigkeiten vor dem IGH, 34 German Yearbook of International Law 254, at 266
(1991); C. Chinkin, Article 62 in: A. Zimmermann/C. Tomuschat/K. Oellers-Frahm
(eds.), The Statute of the International Court of Justice (2006).
27
 S. Rosenne, Intervention in the International Court of Justice, at 148 (1993);
Chamber of the ICJ in Land, Island and Maritime Frontier Dispute (El Salvador v.
Honduras), Application to Intervene, Judgment, ICJ Reports 1990, 92, 124, para. 76,
available at: http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/75/6657.pdf.
28
It has been argued that the term should be interpreted to mean “international
public interest organizations” in order to encompass organizations with consultative
status before the ECOSOC. Such an understanding is not compatible with the clear
wording of the rule. D. Shelton, The Participation of Nongovernmental Organizations
in International Judicial Proceedings, 88 American Journal of International Law 611, at
625 (1994).
29
The term is of Latin origin and literally means “friend of the court”. The term is
employed differently across international courts and tribunals. Some courts, such as
the ECHR, generally do not use the term at all. This contribution uses the term as
defined above.
 affected individuals in proceedings1647

the court or on its own initiative, seeks or is granted leave to file a writ-
ten observation in the case. At times, it is required that the amicus have
a strong interest in the case. Unlike an intervener, an amicus does not
necessarily have to have a specific legal interest in the dispute.30
Therefore, amicus curiae participation may not only intend to broaden
the court’s factual decision-making basis but could also serve to indi-
cate the existence of further interests not represented by the parties
before it.
Amicus curiae participation has not yet been permitted by the ICJ
in contentious proceedings. The International League for the Rights
of Man, a non-governmental human rights organization made an
attempt, to be heard in the Asylum Case (Colombia v. Peru) in 1950.31
An attempt by Afghanistan in the Trial of Pakistani Prisoners of War
(Pakistan v. India) case was refuted by the Registrar.32 It appears that, so
far, individuals have not sought leave to appear as amici curiae in
conten­tious proceedings.33 Despite the lack of relevant practice, such
participation by affected persons could be based on Article 50 of the

30
P. Sands/R. Mackenzie, International Courts and Tribunals, Amicus Curiae, in:
R. Wolfrum (ed.), The Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law,
Oxford University Press, paras. 1, 2 (2008), online edition, http://www.mpepil.com;
S. Menétrey, L’«amicus curiae», vers un principe commun de droit procédural?, 3 et
seq. (2010).
31
 Leave was sought on the basis of Article 34, para. 2, ICJ Statute. The Registrar
denied leave on the ground that the non-governmental organization did not qualify as
a public international organization. Letter No. 66, Request for Interpretation of the
Judgment of 20 November 1950 in the Asylum Case (Colombia v. Peru), ICJ Reports
1950, Part IV: Correspondence, 228, available at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/
files/7/8909.pdf.
32
 Letter No. 67, Trial of Pakistani Prisoners of War (Pakistan v. India), Part IV:
Correspondence, 174 et seq. The Registrar argued that the communication made did
not fall within the scope of the procedure of the ICJ Statute and the Rules and failed to
comply with the requirements of intervention, available at http://www.icj-cij.org/
docket/files/60/9465.pdf.
33
This has been the case in several Advisory Proceedings where, despite the greater
flexibility of Advisory Proceedings, the Court has also been hesitant to receive submis-
sions by individuals. In the proceedings concerning the International Status of South-
West Africa, the Court was petitioned by the chief of the Zulu tribe in South Africa
offering his services due to his extensive and exclusive knowledge of the “reasonable
wants and wishes of the population of the mandated territory of South-West Africa”.
The President of the Court denied the application for lack of necessity (Letters Nos. 51,
55, International Status of South-West Africa, Part III: Correspondence, ICJ Reports
1950, 340 et seq., available at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/10/8937.pdf. A similar
request by Rev. Michael Scott, advocate for the Herero chiefs before the UN, was
denied by the Registrar pointing to the wording of Article 66, para. 2 of the ICJ Statute.
In the same proceedings and for the same reason, the Court also denied a request by
Professor Michael Reisman and a request by four individuals, the so-called South West
1648 burkhard hess & astrid wiik

ICJ Statute, one of the few rules on evidence contained in the govern-
ing instruments of the Court.34 Deviating from the general obligation
of the parties to provide the information necessary to decide the case,
it grants the Court accessory power “at any time, [to] entrust any indi-
vidual, body, bureau, commission or other organization that it may
select, with the task of carrying out an enquiry or giving an expert
opinion”. While the wording would encompass the participation of an
affected individual, the ICJ’s extremely hesitant application of the pro-
vision renders its application to affected persons unlikely.35 In particu-
lar, the Court is under no legal obligation which might limit its
discretionary authority and oblige it to take into account the views of
an affected individual. The same conclusion must be drawn with regard

Africa National United Front, who intended to represent the indigenous inhabitants of
South-West Africa (Letters No. 18, 21, 35, 41, 93, 94, 97, Legal Consequences for States
of the Continued Presence of South-Africa in Namibia (South West Africa) notwithstand-
ing Security Council Resolution 276 (1970), Correspondence, ICJ Reports 1971, 637
et seq., 644 et seq., 647, 676 et seq., 679, available at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/
files/53/11825.pdf. However, a slight change in the Court’s attitude may be detected
with regard to Advisory Proceedings. Practice Direction XII of 2004 regulates, for
the first time, the submission of written statements in Advisory Proceedings by non-
governmental entities. The submissions are not considered part of the case file. Instead,
they are regarded as publications readily available and are kept in the Peace Palace.
34
 Notably the rules concern the ICJ’s fact-finding powers. With regard to legal
interpretation, the Court may as such take into account all the evidence available to it
and is not limited by the arguments of the parties; cf. P. Palchetti, Opening the
International Court of Justice to Third States: Intervention and Beyond, 6 Max Planck
Yearbook of United Nations Law 139, 168 et seq., footnote 75 (2002); Shelton (note 28),
at 642; The case of the S.S. “Lotus”, PCIJ 1927, Series A, No. 10, 31, available at http://
www.icj-cij.org/pcij/serie_A/A_10/30_Lotus_Arret.pdf.
35
It seems that the provision has been invoked only twice. In the Corfu Channel case
the Court set up a commission of naval experts to conduct an enquiry into the visibility
of mine-laying operations off the Albanian Coast, Corfu Channel (Assessment
of Amount of Compensation) (United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland
v. Albania), Order of 19 November 1949, ICJ Reports 1949, 237 and Order of
17 December 1948, ICJ Reports 1948, 124, available at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/
files/1/1905.pdf and http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/1/1669.pdf. In the Gulf of
Maine case the ICJ entrusted an expert to assist with the delimitation of the maritime
boundary: see Delimitation of the Maritime Boundary in the Gulf of Main Area (Canada
v. United States of America), Appointment of Expert, Order of 30 March 1984,
ICJ Reports 1984, 165, available at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/67/6367.pdf.
In the recent judgment in the Case concerning Pulp Mills on the River Uruguay
(Argentina v. Uruguay) parts of the bench criticized the Court’s sparing use of its pow-
ers under Article 50; Separate Opinion of Judge Trindade of 20 April 2010, 41,
para. 151, available at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/135/15885.pdf.; Declaration
of Judge Yusuf of 20 April 2010, 1 et seq., paras. 1, 5, 6, available at http://www.icj-cij.
org/docket/files/135/15887.pdf.; Joint Dissenting Opinion of Judges Al-Khasawneh
and Simma of 20 April 2010, 6, para. 17, available at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/
files/135/15879.pdf.
 affected individuals in proceedings1649

to the exercise of the Court’s investigative powers towards the parties,

enshrined in Article 49 of the ICJ Statute and Article 62 of the Rules of
Court.36 In short, while the Court would have the power to solicit and/
or accept submissions by an affected individual, it is highly unlikely
that it will actually make use of this power in practice, all the more so
in light of its limited resources.
However, in Advisory Proceedings, the Court has deviated from its
general approach and has taken the interests of affected individuals
into account. The pertinent constellation concerns contentious cases
between UN staff members and their employers which have been
decided by the UN Administrative Tribunal and were subsequently
brought before the Court within its advisory jurisdiction. In the first of
these cases, Effect of Awards of Compensation Made by the UN
Administrative Tribunal, the ICJ was asked whether the General
Assembly had the right to refuse to give effect to a compensatory award
issued by the UN Administrative Tribunal in favour of a former staff
member. The law firm representing the staff member requested leave to
participate in the written and oral proceedings, arguing that the staff
member would be directly and substantially affected as the finality of
the Administrative Tribunal’s decision was put in question before the
ICJ. The President of the ICJ referred to Article 66, para. 2, of the
Statute37 and denied the request.38
The Court changed its approach in Judgments of the Administrative
Tribunal of the ILO upon Complaints Made against UNESCO where it
had to decide on the validity of judgments handed down by the
International Labour Organization Administrative Tribunal. Again,
the Court did not accept written submissions by the affected individu-
als directly. But it accepted statements annexed to the submissions of
36
 R. Wolfrum, Evidence, in: R. Wolfrum (ed.), The Max Planck Encyclopedia
of Public International Law, Oxford University Press, paras. 47 et seq. (2008), online
edition, http://www.mpepil.com.
37
It reads: “The Registrar shall also, by means of a special and direct communica-
tion, notify any state entitled to appear before the Court or international organization
considered by the Court, or, should it not be sitting, by the President, as likely to be able
to furnish information on the question, that the Court will be prepared to receive,
within a time-limit to be fixed by the President, written statements, or to hear, at a
public sitting to be held for the purpose, oral statements relating to the question.”
38
A later request by the law firm to receive the various statements filed by member
states and the UN legal department in the case before the opening of the public hearing
was also refused. Letters Nos. 13, 17, 52, 54, Effect of Awards of Compensation Made by
the UN Administrative Tribunal, Advisory Opinion of 13 July 1954, Part IV:
Correspondence, ICJ Reports 1954, 388, 394 et seq., 397, 409 et seq., available at http://
www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/21/9039.pdf.
1650 burkhard hess & astrid wiik

UNESCO, which it had invited to submit information to ensure that all

interested parties be heard and to ensure equality between the staff
members and their organization.39 This procedure was later codified in
former Article 11, para. 2, of the Statute of the UN Administrative
Tribunal, which obliged the Secretary-General to transmit, without
checking the contents, personal statements and documents from the
staff member engaged in a dispute against the organization before the
UN Administrative Tribunal.40 The obligation was complemented by a
right of the staff member to have his/her views transmitted to the
Court. This procedure was applied in several cases41 and the Court con-
sidered it to remedy the inequality imposed on the parties of the under-
lying dispute before the Administrative Tribunal in the review
proceedings before the ICJ.42 Now substituted by a review procedure
before the UN Administrative Tribunal itself, the Court’s earlier
approach shows that the Court is not generally blind towards the inter-
ests of affected individuals. However, it is unlikely that the Court would
take a similar approach towards persons affected by contentious (inter-
state) proceedings before it. This is because the cases presented here
formed a very exceptional group of cases before the Court. Functionally,
the ICJ operated as a kind of court of appeal in relation to the UN
Administrative Tribunal. State interests were not affected by these
Advisory Proceedings. Rather, the individual was the direct opponent
of a UN organization. The judgment concerning the individual was at
the heart of the Advisory Proceedings, whereas, in the cases presented

39
 Letters Nos. 9, 12, 23, 25, 26, 27, 35, 36, 39, 46, 55, 56, 61, 62, Judgments of the
Administrative Tribunal of the ILO upon Complaints Made against UNESCO, Advisory
Opinion of 23 October 1956, Part IV: Correspondence, ICJ Reports 1956, 232, 235
et seq., 245 et seq., 253 et seq., 258 et seq., 264 et seq., available at http://www.icj-cij
.org/docket/files/30/9091.pdf.
40
Para. 3 of the same provision recommended that the member states and the
Secretary-General should refrain from making oral statements before the Court in
review proceedings to safeguard procedural equality between the staff member con-
cerned and the Secretary-General.
41
Application for Review of Judgment No. 158 of the United Nations Administrative
Tribunal, Advisory Opinion of 12 July 1973, ICJ Reports 1973, 166, available at http://
www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/57/6027.pdf; Application for Review of Judgment No. 333 of
the United Nations Administrative Tribunal, Advisory Opinion of 27 May 1987, ICJ
Reports 1987, 18, available at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/72/6547.pdf; Appli­
cation for Review Judgment No. 273 of the United Nations Administrative Tribunal,
Advisory Opinion of 20 July 1982, ICJ Reports 1982, 325, available at http://www.icj-
cij.org/docket/files/66/6329.pdf.
42
Application for Review of Judgment No. 158 of the United Nations Administrative
Tribunal, Advisory Opinion of 12 July 1973, ICJ Reports 1973, 181 et seq., para. 36,
available at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/files/57/6027.pdf.
 affected individuals in proceedings1651

above, the judgment concerning the individual only triggers the pro-
ceedings in the ICJ which refer to alleged violations of international
law to the detriment of the claimant State Party by the domestic courts
of the defendant State Party.
To conclude, the governing instruments allow for the inclusion of
the affected individual’s views via the submissions of one of the govern-
ments party to the proceedings before the ICJ or by use of the Court’s
investigative powers. Both of these mechanisms are discretionary and
the latter mechanism is a theoretical option. In the light of the limited
resources of the Court and the need to decide disputes efficiently, it is
questionable whether the affected person should possess a genuine
right to be heard. However, an opening of the Court towards amicus
curiae participation in cases such as the ones presented here would
improve the Court’s basis for decision-making and give the affected
individuals at least the possibility of bringing their situation to the
attention of the Court. A risk that the Court would be overwhelmed by
submissions appears unlikely due to the limited number of such cases
and the even smaller number of affected individuals in these cases.

C. The International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea

The International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea43 has not yet been
confronted with a case arising out of civil litigation. Nevertheless, in
the light of the strong interrelation between matters regulated by the
UNCLOS and commerce, it is easy to imagine such a case before the
Court in Hamburg.44 The ITLOS has jurisdiction over matters arising
out of the interpretation and application of the UNCLOS.45 The Seabed

43
The Court was established in accordance with Annex VI of the UN Convention
on the Law of the Sea of 1982. The full text of the Convention is available at http://www
.un.org/Depts/los/convention_agreements/convention_overview_convention.htm.
The Court has been operative since 1996. The Tribunal is only one of four alternative
mechanisms parties may resort to for the solution of a dispute arising out of the inter-
pretation and application of the UNCLOS.
44
In this context, see for instance the separation of issues made by Article 292,
para. 3, of UNCLOS in cases concerning prompt release of vessels and crews: “The
court or tribunal shall deal without delay with the application for release and shall deal
only with the question of release, without prejudice to the merits of any case before the
appropriate domestic forum against the vessel, its owner or its crew. The authorities of
the detaining State remain competent to release the vessel or its crew at any time.”
Attention is also drawn to the local remedies rule in Article 295 of UNCLOS which,
however, encompasses only a dispute between the States Parties.
45
Article 288, para. 1, of UNCLOS.
1652 burkhard hess & astrid wiik

Disputes Chamber as a specialized section of the Tribunal decides all

disputes concerning activities in the Area.46 Both the Tribunal and the
Seabed Disputes Chamber are governed by the UNCLOS, the Statute of
the Tribunal and the Rules of the Tribunal, which determine and limit
the rights of affected individuals to present their views to the Tribunal
or, in cases of exploration and exploitation of the Area, the Seabed
Disputes Chamber.
According to Article 291, para. 1, of UNCLOS, only States Parties
have standing before the Tribunal.47 This term clearly does not cover
individuals. In the literature it is argued that an individual may have
locus standi pursuant to Article 20, para. 2, of the ITLOS Statute.
Thereafter, the Tribunal shall be open to entities other than States
Parties “in any case submitted pursuant to any other agreement confer-
ring jurisdiction on the Tribunal which is accepted by all the parties to
that case”. By its wording, such an agreement could be concluded with
an affected individual. Article 20 of the Statute is broader than the
wording of the parallel Article 288, para. 2, of UNCLOS, which refers
to an “international agreement”.48 Yet statements of the Preparatory
Commission indicate that the narrower interpretation of Article 288,
para. 2, of UNCLOS shall be authoritative. It was envisaged that the
Tribunal should grant access only to States Parties, whereas other
entities should only be able to appear in certain cases before the Seabed
Disputes Chamber.49 This view is also supported by the fact that
the Statute of the Court was closely modelled on the ICJ Statute, which

46
Article 1, para. 1, of UNCLOS defines this area as “the seabed and ocean floor and
subsoil thereof, beyond the limits of national jurisdiction”. The Chamber is composed
of members of the Tribunal: Article 35, para. 1, of the ITLOS Statute.
47
The term “States Parties” does not only include states. As Articles 1, para. 2, and
305, of UNCLOS show, self-governing associated states and territories and, under cer-
tain conditions, international organizations may become parties to the Convention.
48
P. Gautier, NGOs and Law of the Sea Disputes, in: T. Treves et al. (eds.), Civil
Society, International Courts and Compliance Bodies, 235 (2005); J. Basedow, The Law
Applicable to the Substance of Private Litigation before the International Tribunal for
the Law of the Sea, 63 The Rabel Journal of Comparative and International Private Law
361, 362 (1999): “the reference to part XI makes it clear that this term includes private
parties to a contract, and perhaps even natural persons in that capacity”; see also
A. E. Boyle, Dispute Settlement and the Law of the Sea Convention: Problems of
Fragmen­tation and Jurisdiction, 46 The International and Comparative Law Quarterly
37, 53 et seq. (1997); against this view: S. Talmon (note 7), at 555; R. Wolfrum, The
Legislative History of Arts. 20 and 21 of the Statute of the International Tribunal for the
Law of the Sea, 63 The Rabel Journal of Comparative and International Private Law
342, at 346 (1999).
49
 L. Bartholomeusz, The amicus curiae before international courts and tribunals,
5 Non-state Actors and International Law 227 (2005).
 affected individuals in proceedings1653

follows a very restrictive concept of jurisdiction ratione personae.50

Intervention is also not an option for an affected individual to present
his/her views to the Tribunal. Like the ICJ Statute, the Statute of the
ITLOS limits intervention to States Parties.51
With regard to the Seabed Disputes Chamber a much broader
approach has been taken, owing to the commercial nature of matters to
be dealt with by the Chamber. Pursuant to Article 37 of the Statute and
Article 187 of UNCLOS, the Chamber has power to decide disputes
involving natural or juridical persons.52 In this context, affected indi-
viduals enjoy genuine standing before the Chamber.53
Lacking formal and legally binding avenues for participation before
the ITLOS, the affected individual may seek to resort to informal
mechanisms: however, amicus curiae participation is explicitly only
permitted to intergovernmental organizations pursuant to Article 84 of
the Rules in contentious proceedings before the Tribunal.54 This leads
to the question whether the mere existence of the norm excludes any
amicus curiae participation by affected individuals on another basis,
for instance the investigative powers of the Tribunal as enshrined in
Article 82 of the Rules.55 It must be noted that during the drafting of the
provision no proposal was made to include participation by non-
governmental entities in Article 84 of the Rules, which may argue in
favour of the exclusiveness of the provision.56 Additionally, it seems
unlikely that the narrowness of the provision was accidental in the light

50
Moreover, according to Article 21 of the ITLOS Statute the agreement must con-
fer jurisdiction on the Tribunal.
51
Article 31, 32 of the ITLOS Statute.
52
Interestingly, the Statute prescribes in Article 19, para. 2, that a participating
entity which is not a State Party or the Authority shall bear a part of the costs of the
Tribunal. The amount is to be determined by the Tribunal.
53
Article 187, lit. (c)-(e) of UNCLOS. The disputes referred to are mainly disputes
stemming from a contract or prospective contract between States Parties, the Authority
or the Enterprise and natural or juridical persons concerning the exploitation of the
Area. In such a case, Article 190, para. 1 gives the sponsoring state a right to participate
in the oral and written proceedings.
54
The same situation applies under Article 133 of the Rules in Advisory Proceedings
before the Seabed Disputes Chamber. Article 133 is somewhat more limited in that it
only provides for participation upon invitation by the Chamber. In contentious pro-
ceedings before the Tribunal and the Chamber, intergovernmental organizations may
participate proprio motu. The rules are based on Articles 34, para. 2, and 66 of the ICJ
Statute respectively.
55
This provision is comparable to Article 50 of the Rules of the ICJ. If the Tribunal
were to rely on this provision, however, it would have to make a formal decision and
hear the views of the parties before issuing the order.
56
 L. Bartholomeusz (note 49), at 229.
1654 burkhard hess & astrid wiik

of the broadening of the provisions on locus standi compared to the

corresponding rules of the ICJ, the Statute of which served as a model
for the ITLOS Statute.57
The recent practice of the Seabed Disputes Chamber indicates that
the Chamber does not subscribe to this view. In the Advisory
Proceedings entitled Responsibilities and Obligations of States Sponsoring
Persons and Entities with Respect to Activities in the Area (Request
for Advisory Opinion submitted to the Seabed Disputes Chamber)58
the Chamber received a joint written submission by two non-
governmental organizations59 with a statement attached in which the
organizations asked to participate as amici curiae at both stages of the
proceedings. The Chamber did not publish its decision on whether to
accept or reject the request during the proceedings. However, in its
Advisory Opinion of 1 February 2011, the Chamber explicitly refers to
the petitioners’ request and addresses the matter in detail. Separating
the issues of acceptance of the written submission and admission to the
hearing,60 the President of the Chamber refused to allow the inclusion
of the written submission in the case file for lack of compliance with
Article 133 of the Rules. Later, the Chamber decided that unlike the
numerous Article 133 participants the amici were not to be admitted to
the oral proceedings.61 Despite the refusal to allow the petitioners’ par-
ticipation as amici curiae at any stage of the proceedings, the President
decided that the submission was to be “posted on a separate section of
the Tribunal’s website”62 and transmitted to the States Parties, to the
Authority and to intergovernmental organizations that had submitted
written statements. One of the party agents later referred to the brief in

57
P. Gautier (note 48), at 237.
58
 Case file available on the ITLOS website at http://www.itlos.org/start2_en.html.
59
 Stichting Greenpeace Council (Greenpeace International) and the World Wide
Fund for Nature.
60
The decision concerning the admissibility of the written submission was com-
municated to petitioners on 27 August 2010 and the decision concerning the request to
participate in the oral proceedings was transmitted to petitioners on 10 September
2010.
61
Responsibilities and Obligations of States Sponsoring Persons and Entities with
Respect to Activities in the Area, Advisory Opinion by the Seabed Disputes Chamber of
1 February 2011, Case No. 17, para. 14, available at http://www.itlos.org/start2_en
.html.
62
Responsibilities and Obligations of States Sponsoring Persons and Entities with
Respect to Activities in the Area, Advisory Opinion by the Seabed Disputes Chamber of
1 February 2011, Case No. 17, para. 13. In fact, the submission was posted on the web-
site containing all the relevant case information with a note that clarified that the sub-
mission did not form part of the case file.
 affected individuals in proceedings1655

his oral submissions. As the document was available online, namely on

the ITLOS website, such reference was permissible under Article 71,
para. 5, of the Rules as the document, not part of the written proceed-
ings, was a readily available publication.63 Thus, by publishing the sub-
mission on its website and transmitting it to the Article 133 participants,
the Chamber employed a procedural “trick” to enable the submission
to be included in the proceedings via the participants.
Notably, although the 25-page long submission touches upon several
of the issues discussed in the opinion, the Chamber itself does not refer
to it explicitly. Thus, affected individuals should not rely on the efficacy
of this procedure. In particular, it is questionable whether this method
will be used by the Tribunal or the Chamber in contentious proceed-
ings where (State) Party interests are directly at stake. In addition, any
participation is fully left to the discretion of the Chamber/Tribunal,
which has yet to rule on the applicability of amicus curiae participation
in contentious proceedings. It appears that at least with regard to States
Parties measures comparable to amicus curiae participation have been
accepted by the Tribunal in contentious proceedings.64
As before the ICJ, an affected individual may seek to influence the
Tribunal to make use of its investigative powers towards the parties,
enshrined, among others, in Articles 76 and 77 of the Rules,65 with the
aim of receiving information on the rights and interests of the affected
individual. Alternatively, the individual may petition one of the States
Parties to the dispute to voice its interests in the proceedings.66 The

63
This Article is applicable to the proceedings before the Chamber pursuant to
Article 40 of the Statute and Articles 130, para. 1, and 115 of the Rules of the Tribunal.
The Chamber appears to have partly relied on the procedure laid down by the ICJ in its
Practice Direction No. XII.
64
 Cf. Gautier who refers to Norway’s support of Ireland’s position in The MOX Plant
Case (Ireland v. United Kingdom), P. Gautier (note 48), at 241. Also, the affected indi-
vidual is unlikely to qualify as an expert under Article 289 of UNCLOS. The term
depicts scientific or technical experts, a qualification an affected person will comply
with only coincidentally. Furthermore, according to Article 42, para. 2, of the Rules of
the Tribunal, the experts take part in the deliberations of the Tribunal. It would not be
appropriate to furnish the affected individual with such powers.
65
Article 76 of the Rules gives the Tribunal the power to indicate any issues which
it would like the parties to address more specifically. Pursuant to Article 77 of the
Rules, the Tribunal may direct the parties to submit certain evidence or seek it itself.
66
 Gautier (note 48), at 240, notes that parties have in several cases included material
from non-state entities in their pleadings and that they have made use of information
provided by NGOs. Parties are generally free to submit whatever evidence they con-
sider relevant to the case until the closure of the written proceedings: Article 71, para.
1, of the Rules. Participation in the oral proceedings by the affected individual appears
1656 burkhard hess & astrid wiik

latter form of representation is likely to occur only if the affected indi-

vidual does not hinder (including unnecessarily delaying) the case of
the State Party in question.67 And it remains to be seen whether the
Tribunal or the Chamber will be willing to open up the bilateral dispute
to an additional interest of an entity with no standing before it.68
An affected individual, though not having access to the proceedings
before the Tribunal, may at least seek to be informed about the pro-
ceedings in order to make the appropriate submissions in its own
domestic proceedings. With regard to the written proceedings, Arti-
cle 67, para. 1, of the Rules of the Tribunal determines that, generally,
copies of pleadings and their annexes are, upon request, accessible
from their filing to states or entities with locus standi before the
Tribunal. The affected individual will most likely not be part of this
privileged group. Thus, he/she will, pursuant to Article 67, para. 2, of
the Rules, gain access to the relevant documents at the same time as the
general public, i.e. at the time of the opening of the oral proceedings.69
This may prejudice the remedies available to the affected party at the
domestic level. It should also be noted that submissions must be made
in one of the official languages of the Tribunal. Documents forming
part of the parties’ submissions which are in another language must be
translated.70 This may add to the burden of an affected individual from
a country where the national language is not one of the official lan-
guages. The affected individual may attend the public hearings in
accordance with Article 26, para. 2, of the Statute and Article 74 of the
Rules.
All in all, the current situation of affected individuals before the
Tribunal and the Seabed Disputes Chamber is difficult, to say the least.
As long as they are not exceptionally parties to proceedings, they
depend on one of the parties’ or the Tribunal’s/Seabed Dispute
Chamber’s willingness to recognize or represent their interests. Their
position is, for the time being, tantamount to that of any unaffected
bystander with potentially detrimental consequences for the outcome

problematic in the light of Article 44, para. 3, of the Rules which limits participants in
oral proceedings to agents, counsel, advocates, witnesses and experts.
67
In such a case the information presented via the State Party would constitute nor-
mal party evidence which the other party would have a right to comment upon: cf.
Article 73, para. 1, of the Rules.
68
In addition, pursuant to Article 49 of the Rules, “the proceedings before the
Tribunal shall be conducted without unnecessary delay or expense”.
69
According to Article 67, para. 2, of the Rules, publication of the documents may
take place earlier if the Tribunal decides so after hearing the views of the parties.
70
 Cf. Article 64 of the Rules.
 affected individuals in proceedings1657

of their ongoing domestic dispute. It remains to be seen whether the

Tribunal will also open its contentious proceedings to amicus curiae
participation by affected individuals.

D. The European Court of Human Rights

Unlike the other courts addressed in this contribution, the European

Court of Human Rights is not a purely inter-state dispute settlement
mechanism. Since 1998, Article 34 of the European Convention on
Human Rights (ECHR) has permitted victims to bring claims against a
state, including their own national state, to the Strasbourg Court. The
matter at issue here is not unknown to it as numerous cases reaching
the Court arise out of domestic civil proceedings. In most cases the
dispute before the ECHR does not affect the domestic case. In many
cases, however, the party to the domestic proceedings which is not a
party to the proceedings before the ECHR will be directly affected by
the outcome of the proceedings before the ECHR. This is, in particular,
apparent in custody cases where the Court regularly invites the other
(individual) party to present its views to the Court and to take part in
the hearing.
Recently, the Grand Chamber of the ECHR decided in a custody
case on the return of a child from Switzerland to Israel under the Hague
Convention on Child Abduction.71 In this case, the Swiss applicant had
lived in Israel where she married and gave birth to a child in 2003.
A few months later, the father of the child joined an ultra-orthodox
Jewish community. Incidents of domestic violence were reported.
Shortly afterwards, the marriage ended. The couple was divorced in
Israel and joint custody of the child was maintained although the father
was granted a right to visit the child only twice a week under supervi-
sion of the child support authorities. Finally, the mother left Israel with
her son and moved to Lausanne. The father applied for the immediate
return of the child under the Hague Convention on Child Abduction
and, finally, the Swiss Federal Tribunal ordered the child’s return to
Israel. Subsequently, the mother applied to the ECHR, which issued a
provisional order prohibiting the Swiss authorities from enforcing the
return order. This result was confirmed by the Grand Chamber which
held that Article 8 of the ECHR compelled the Swiss authorities to

71
 ECHR, Neulinger and Shuruk v. Switzerland, Judgment of the Grand Chamber of
6 July 2010 Appl. No. 41615/07.
1658 burkhard hess & astrid wiik

apply Article 13 (b) of the Hague Convention on Child Abduction.

According to this provision, which provides for a public policy excep-
tion, the return of the child may be refused if it would infringe the
child’s best interests. According to this judgment, Article 8 ECHR
obliges the States Parties to assess individually whether the return of
the child infringes its interests.72
Surprisingly, no mechanism exists which provides affected individu-
als, like the father of the child in this case, with a right to bring their
views to the attention of the Court. There has been argument for the
creation of such a right.73 With regard to the potentially accompanying
obligation of notification, the Court’s burgeoning caseload makes the
introduction of such a right even less probable and viable. Instead,
affected individuals are referred to amicus curiae participation under
Article 36, para. 2, of the Convention, which allows the President of the
Court to invite any State Party which is not a party to the proceedings
and any person concerned other than the Applicant to submit written
comments or take part in hearings if such participation is in the inter-
est of the proper administration of justice. Article 44 of the Rules of
Court establishes further that the submissions of the interested person
must be submitted in English or French not later than 12 weeks after
the invitation by the President. In practice, the application of Arti-
cle 36, para. 2, of the Convention has changed: normally, the affected
individuals themselves address the President and request the authori-
zation to make submissions.74 Usually, this authorization is granted
without further inquiries. Formally, the legal position of the interested
person remains unaffected by the proceedings. He/she neither becomes
a party nor is bound by the res judicata of the judgment.75

72
It remains to be seen whether this judgment corresponds to the different mecha-
nism under Articles 11 (8) and 42–44 of the Regulation Brussels IIbis which forbid the
requested EU Member State to apply Article 13 (b) of the Hague Convention, see Hess
(note 20), § 7 III, para. 85. The ECJ recently applied Article 11 (8) in a very restrictive
way, cf. Case C-491/10PPU, Aguirre Zarraga v Pelz.
73
 Cf. N. Vajić, Some Concluding Remarks on NGOs and the European Court of
Human Rights, in: T. Treves et al. (eds.), Civil Society, International Courts and
Compliance Bodies, 93, 99 (2005).
74
In Germany, affected individuals are informed by the German agent representing
the case before the ECHR of the chance to participate in the proceedings pursuant to
Article 36, para. 2 ECHR; J. Meyer-Ladewig, Kommentar zur Europäischen
Menschenrechtskonvention, Vol. 2., Article 36, para. 2 (2006).
75
 S. Menétrey (note 30), at 173–174.
 affected individuals in proceedings1659

Article 36 of the ECHR was amended in 1998 by the 11th Protocol.

However, the provision endorsed the former practice of the Court
under Article 38 of the Rules of the Court, which gave the Court inves-
tigative powers, especially the power to request interrogation of wit-
nesses and of experts on its own initiative. In Young, James and Webster
v. The United Kingdom,76 the ECHR used this provision as a tool to
invite the opinion of third parties (like NGOs) in order to obtain addi-
tional information for the preparation of its decision. In 1998, the for-
mer investigative powers of the Court were transformed into a general
provision permitting the participation of affected persons and inter-
ested organizations like NGOs in the proceedings. The participation of
both NGOs and other affected parties has been described as participa-
tion of an “amicus curiae”.77 This development demonstrates two differ-
ent functions of the concept of amicus curiae: on the one hand, the
amicus may support the Court’s fact-finding. On the other hand, the
institution may serve to preserve the procedural rights and material
interests of individuals who are not parties before the international
forum, but who are nevertheless affected by the outcome of the
proceedings.
The usefulness of the inclusion of the affected individual is demon-
strated by the outcome of the Grand Chamber’s decision in Neulinger
and Shuruk v. Switzerland: although the father of the child had been
invited by the President of the Court to present his views to the
Chamber, he failed to comply with the formal requirements of Arti-
cle 44 of the Rules. Accordingly, his statement was not included in the
case file. In its judgment, the Grand Chamber did not directly address
this issue. However, it relied heavily on the fact that the father had not
displayed much interest in the child. The Chamber concluded that the
interest of the child did not demand its return to Israel where its father
had not tried to contact it for more than five years nor made any main-
tenance payments. Finally, the lack of any personal interest of the father
in the outcome of the litigation had been demonstrated by his failure to
present his arguments to the Court in the required manner.

76
 ECHR, Young, James and Webster v. the United Kingdom, Judgment of the Plenary
Court of 13 August 1981, Appl. No. 7601/76; 7806/77.
77
The Court has only rarely referred to the expression. Instead, it uses the expres-
sion “third-party intervention”. In essence, both terms indicate the same form of
participation.
1660 burkhard hess & astrid wiik

E. Conclusion

The developments in the practice of the ECHR demonstrate a possible

way forward for other international tribunals like the ICJ and the
ITLOS. Although individuals do not have genuine standing before
these international fora, it seems appropriate to include them at a pro-
cedural level as amici curiae. In this respect, the function of their inclu-
sion as amici curiae is not primarily aimed at enlarging the investigative
powers of the international tribunal, but at ensuring the inclusion of
their own legal position at the decisive level. However, this function
does not preclude recourse to the investigative powers of international
courts as a legal basis for admission as amici curiae. It surely improves
the decision-making basis of an international tribunal if it is aware of
the legal and factual arguments of individuals affected by its decision.
In the two cases recently before the ICJ, the Court should use its inves-
tigative powers and permit the affected individuals to present their
legal arguments. In similar constellations, the ITLOS should act in the
same manner. The amicus curiae practice of the ECHR, which corre-
sponds to the practice of other international bodies like the ICSID and
the dispute settlement bodies of the WTO, demonstrates that an
improvement in the procedural involvement of the affected individual
in international proceedings reinforces both the quality and the accept-
ance of the decision of an international dispute resolution body in the
21st Century.78

78
 On the inclusion of NGOs as amici curiae in the taking of evidence see R. Wolfrum
(note 36), paras. 52, 53.
 Judges ad hoc in the International Tribunal
for the Law of the Sea

José Luis Jesus

It is a pleasure for me to be able to make this contribution to Rüdiger’s

Festschrift. Since Rüdiger and I have shared the bench at the International
Tribunal for the Law of the Sea (ITLOS) for the past 11 years, I thought
that the most appropriate way to contribute to his Festschrift and cele-
brate our many years of good professional cooperation would be to
review some aspects of the Tribunal’s work. I have therefore chosen to
write about judges ad hoc in ITLOS.

A. Historical Framework

I. The Origin of the Institution of Judges ad hoc

The provisions on judges ad hoc in the Tribunal’s Statute can be
traced back to the corresponding provisions in the Statutes of the
Permanent Court of International Justice (PCIJ) and the International
Court of Justice (ICJ). Therefore, in order better to understand the
policy on judges ad hoc set out in Article 17 of the Tribunal’s Statute,
a brief inroad into the history of the other two courts may be
necessary.
During the negotiations held in the context of the 1899 Hague Peace
Conference, efforts to establish a permanent international court failed
for lack of agreement on the methodology for the appointment of
judges. Many states wanted the court to include a judge of their nation-
ality, which would have made it unmanageable.1
This difficulty could be overcome two decades later, when the PCIJ–
the first international judicial court of global reach–was established.
The idea that all states should be represented on the bench was not
totally abandoned, however; the institution of the judge ad hoc was the
compromise found.

1
 R. Mackenzie/P. Sands, International Courts and Tribunals and the Independence
of the International Judge, 44 Harvard International Law Journal 271, at 271 (2003).
1662 josé luis jesus

The idea of people serving, in a particular case, as members of inter-

national courts at the choice of the parties to a dispute was initially the
object of criticism, especially in light of the assumption that judges are
independent and must declare in open session that they will exercise
their powers impartially and conscientiously.2
From the technical standpoint, in fact, there seems to be no need
to add judges to the bench, since the elected members of international
courts, including the Tribunal, are sufficient in number and are deemed
to have the necessary technical skills, fairness and integrity to
handle any issue raised in the context of a case brought before them.
Moreover, the addition of judges ad hoc to the bench does not, per se,
increase the integrity of the court’s decisions or raise the collective
impartiality of its judges to a higher level. What, then, is the usefulness
of appointing judges ad hoc to serve as members of the court in a par-
ticular case?
The Advisory Committee of Jurists to the League of Nations,
which made the proposal for the institution of judges ad hoc in the
context of the drafting of the Statute of the PCIJ, justified it in the fol-
lowing terms:
“In this particular, our Court more nearly resembles a Court of arbitra-
tion than a national Court of Justice. But this variation is necessary.
Though our Court is a true Court, we must not forget that it is a Court
between States. For the reasons already given, States attach much impor-
tance to having one of their subjects on the Bench when they appear
before a Court of Justice”.3
In the days of the Permanent Court, some even believed that the
appointment of judges ad hoc would enhance confidence in the
Court’s decisions and that the parties would be more inclined to accept
and implement those decisions if a judge of their nationality was
involved. It was further argued that such judges could supply useful
local knowledge and a national point of view. As explained by the
Advisory Committee of Jurists, “… it is highly desirable that the judges
should be able … to put forward and explain the statements and
arguments of the States …”.4 This line of argument was not accepted by
some scholars, who concurred with the argument that the “interests

2
 Statute of the Tribunal, Article 11.
3
 Advisory Committee of Jurists, Procès-Verbaux of the Proceedings of the
Committee, thirty-fourth meeting, 24 July 1920, Annex No. 1, 720, at 722.
4
 Id., at 721.
 judges ad hoc in the itlos1663

of the parties must be represented and defended by advocates and

counsel–not by judges pledged by their oath to the duty of
impartiality”.5
Whatever the arguments for and against the appointment of judges
ad hoc are, and whatever the questions raised regarding their loyalty to
their country of nationality or to the party that chose them, the fact
remains that the nomination of such judges has long been a constant in
the practice of international courts. They were first accepted by the
PCIJ and have frequently been appointed in cases before the ICJ. In the
case of the Tribunal, it has not been unusual for qualifying states par-
ties to disputes to choose people to serve as judges ad hoc in a particu-
lar case.6
The fact that judges ad hoc are chosen by a State Party to a dispute
does not in itself compromise their impartiality. In fact, the
link between the choosing state and the judge ad hoc is somewhat
diluted, since nowadays the choice may fall on a non-national as well.
In the early years of the Permanent Court, such judges were required to
have the nationality of the nominating state. The Court’s practice
was, however, changed in 1927, when the first non-national judge ad
hoc was chosen without opposition from the other party to the dispute
or from the Court. This requirement was ultimately eliminated
from the Rules of the Court in 1936. Moreover, the practice of the
international courts, including the Tribunal, shows that on several
occasions judges ad hoc have not voted in favour of the parties that
chose them.7

5
M. Huber, Study of Amendments to be Made in the Statute of the International
Court of Justice, 45 Annuaire de l’Institut de Droit International 407, at 534 (1954).
6
Judges ad hoc have been appointed in seven cases before the Tribunal: Southern
Bluefin Tuna (New Zealand v. Japan; Australia v. Japan), Provisional Measures, Order
of 16 August 1999, ITLOS Reports 1999, 274; Conservation and Sustainable Exploitation
of Swordfish Stocks (Chile v. European Community), Order of 15 March 2001, ITLOS
Reports 2001, 4; “Grand Prince” (Belize v. France), Prompt Release, Judgment, ITLOS
Reports 2001, 17; MOX Plant (Ireland v. United Kingdom), Provisional Measures,
Order of 3 December 2001, ITLOS Reports 2001, 95; “Volga” (Russian Federation v.
Australia), Prompt Release, Judgment, ITLOS Reports 2002, 10; Land Reclamation in
and around the Straits of Johor (Malaysia v. Singapore), Provisional Measures, Order of
8 October 2003, ITLOS Reports 2003, 10; and Dispute concerning delimitation of the
maritime boundary between Bangladesh and Myanmar in the Bay of Bengal (Bangladesh
v. Myanmar), (pending). See also the Tribunal’s website http://www.itlos.org/.
7
 In the case of the Tribunal see Land Reclamation in and around the Straits of Johor
(Malaysia v. Singapore), Provisional Measures, Order of 8 October 2003, ITLOS
Reports 2003, 10.
1664 josé luis jesus

II. Balance in Representation on the Bench

A fundamental principle of international adjudication is that equal
treatment must be accorded to both parties to a dispute brought before
an international court. The institution of judges ad hoc as members of
such courts arose as a corollary of that principle. During the drafting of
the Statute of the Permanent Court in 1920, the Advisory Committee
of Jurists to the League of Nations had therefore to decide how to pro-
ceed where one of the Court’s judges held the nationality of a State
Party to a dispute.8
At that time, different views were expressed and, in the end, two
possible solutions were identified with a view to ensuring the equal
treatment of both parties to a dispute: either to ask the sitting member
of the Court not to participate in the case, or to allow the State Party
not represented on the bench to choose a person of its nationality to
sit as a judge ad hoc. The second solution was adopted. In making
that proposal, the Advisory Committee justified it in the following
terms:
“If both parties have a judge upon the Bench, it would be logical if both
of these judges abstained from sitting. But it might well happen that the
number of judges would in this way be too much diminished, especially
if several States had a joint interest in the same proceedings. There would
be a risk that the various forms of civilization and the principal legal sys-
tems of the world, which are to give our Court its character as a World
Court, not be sufficiently represented for the satisfactory administration
of justice”.9
This solution was articulated by the Advisory Committee as follows:
“First possibility. … When each of the two parties has a judge of its
nationality upon the Bench, there will therefore be no question of their
abstention from sitting ….
Second possibility. If one of the parties is represented on the Bench
and not the other, this is no reason for the judge already appointed to
withdraw … but on the other hand, if the composition of the Court
underwent no change … public opinion in the State without a judge

8
 S. M. Schwebel, National Judges and Judges Ad Hoc of the International Court of
Justice, 48 International and Comparative Law Quarterly 889, at 889 (1999).
9
 Advisory Committee of Jurists, Procès-Verbaux of the Proceedings of the
Committee, thirty-fourth meeting, 24 July 1920, Annex No. 1, 720, at 721.
 judges ad hoc in the itlos1665

on the Bench might consider that this inequality would affect it adversely
….
 It follows therefore that … a judge must be specially appointed for the
particular case by that party ….
Third possibility. There may be no judge on the Bench of the
nationality of any of the States concerned. In this eventuality also it is
advisable that each party should be entitled to … choose a judge ….”10
This proposal was accepted and later incorporated in what would
become Article 31 of the Statute of the PCIJ, in which the Advisory
Committee’s proposal is reflected in the following provisions:
“Judges of the nationality of each of the contesting parties shall retain
their right to sit in the case before the Court. If the Court includes upon
the Bench a judge of the nationality of one of the parties, the other party
may choose a person to sit as judge. … If the Court includes upon the
Bench no judge of the nationality of the contesting parties, each of these
parties may proceed to select a judge as provided in the preceding
paragraph.
The present provision shall apply to the case of Articles 26, 27 and 29. In
such cases, the President shall request one or, if necessary, two of the
members of the Court forming the Chamber to give place to the mem-
bers of the Court of the nationality of the parties concerned, and, failing
such or if they are unable to be present, to the judges specially appointed
by the parties. Should there be several parties in the same interest, they
shall, for the purpose of the preceding provisions, be reckoned as one
party only. Any doubt upon this point is settled by the decision of the
Court.”11
The provisions of this Article on the choice of judges ad hoc have basi-
cally remained unchanged. It has been preserved in the Statute of the
ICJ, Article 31 of which reads as follows:
“  1. Judges of the nationality of each of the parties shall retain their right
to sit in the case before the Court.
2. If the Court includes upon the Bench a judge of the nationality of
one of the parties, any other party may choose a person to sit as
judge. Such person shall be chosen preferably from among those
persons who have been nominated as candidates as provided in
Articles 4 and 5.

 Id., at 722.
10

 Statute of the Permanent Court of International Justice, Article 31, paras. 1–2.
11
1666 josé luis jesus

3. If the Court includes upon the Bench no judge of the nationality of the
parties, each of these parties may proceed to choose a judge as pro-
vided in paragraph 2 of this Article.
4. The provisions of this Article shall apply to the case of Articles 26 and
29. In such cases, the President shall request one or, if necessary, two
of the members of the Court forming the chamber to give place to the
members of the Court of the nationality of the parties concerned, and,
failing such, or if they are unable to be present, to the judges specially
chosen by the parties.”12
In the case of the Tribunal, the Statute was modeled on the Statutes of
the PCIJ and the ICJ. It is, therefore, no wonder that on the issue of
judges ad hoc the framers of the United Nations Convention on the
Law of the Sea would also find inspiration in these permanent courts.
Indeed, provisions similar to those of Articles 31 of the Statutes of the
two Courts were included in Article 17 of the Statute of the Tribunal.
This Article stipulates that:
“1. Members of the Tribunal of the nationality of any of the parties to a
dispute shall retain their right to participate as members of the
Tribunal.
2. If the Tribunal, when hearing a dispute, includes upon the bench a
member of the nationality of one of the parties, any other party may
choose a person to participate as a member of the Tribunal.
3. If the Tribunal, when hearing a dispute, does not include upon
the bench a member of the nationality of the parties, each of those
parties may choose a person to participate as a member of the
Tribunal.
4. This article applies to the chambers referred to in articles 14 and
15 of this Annex. In such cases, the President, in consultation with
the parties, shall request specified members of the Tribunal forming
the chamber, as many as necessary, to give place to the members of
the Tribunal of the nationality of the parties concerned, and, failing
such, or if they are unable to be present, to the members specially
chosen by the parties. Should there be several parties in the same
interest, they shall, for the purpose of the preceding provisions, be
reckoned as one party only. Any doubt upon this point is settled by
the decision of the Court.”13
Thus, these three international judicial courts have followed the policy
outlined in the proposals on the nomination of ad hoc judges made by
the Advisory Committee of Jurists 90 years ago.

 Statute of the International Court of Justice, Article 31, paras. 1–4.

12

 Statute of the Tribunal, Article 17.

13
 judges ad hoc in the itlos1667

B. Judges ad hoc in ITLOS

I. Judges ad hoc Chosen by States

As noted above, the Tribunal’s policy on the nomination of judges ad
hoc by states, pursuant to Article 17 of its Statute, does not differ in
many respects from that of the PCIJ and the ICJ. Indeed, although the
Tribunal is composed of 21 elected members representing all the geo-
graphical regions and the principal legal systems of the world, a state
which is a party to a dispute may choose a person to sit on the bench of
the Tribunal, when entertaining a case, if none of its nationals is cur-
rently serving as an elected member. This prerogative is not merely a
theoretical possibility; it has been exercised frequently. Of the 18 con-
tentious cases brought before the Tribunal to date, judges ad hoc were
appointed in seven of them.
The policy on judges ad hoc contained in Article 17 of the Statute
applies not only to the Tribunal when functioning as a full court, but
also to the Seabed Disputes Chamber,14 to standing chambers estab-
lished or to be established to deal with particular categories of dis-
putes,15 to ad hoc special chambers for dealing with a particular
dispute16 and to the Chamber of Summary Procedure. However, the
Statute lacks clarity as to the methodology17 to be followed in ensuring
a balance in representation on the bench of judges bearing the nation-
ality of the parties to a dispute before one of these chambers. This lack
of clarification was inherited from a similar provision in the Statute of
the Permanent Court which gave its President the authority to replace
one or more members of a chamber by other members having the
nationality of the parties to the dispute.
This aspect of the policy on the appointment of judges ad hoc should
have been clarified, especially in light of today’s realities. Article 17,
paragraph 4, of the Tribunal’s Statute provides that:
“… In such cases, the President,18 in consultation with the parties, shall
request specified members of the Tribunal forming the chamber,19 as

14
 Id., Article 14.
15
 Id., Article 15, para. 1.
16
 Id., Article 15, para. 2.
17
 Id., Article 17, para. 4.
18
 Rules of the Tribunal, Article 31, para. 3.
19
This includes any of the chambers referred to in Articles 14 and 15 of the Statute
of the Tribunal, including the Seabed Disputes Chamber.
1668 josé luis jesus

many as necessary, to give place to the members of the Tribunal of the

nationality of the parties concerned, and, failing such, or if they are una-
ble to be present, to members especially chosen by the parties”.
This provision seems to be at odds with the first proposal made in the
1920 report of the Advisory Committee of Jurists to the League of
Nations. As mentioned above, the Advisory Committee stated that it
was not proposing that in such cases elected judges of the nationality of
a State Party should refrain from sitting on a case as a means of ensur-
ing balanced representation on the bench of judges of the nationality of
the parties to a dispute, because
“… it might well happen that the number of judges would in this way
be too much diminished, especially if several States had a joint interest in
the same proceedings. There would be a risk that the various forms
of civilizations and the principal legal systems of the world … would not
be sufficiently represented for the satisfactory administration of
justice”.20
It is difficult to say how Article 17, paragraph 4, of the ITLOS Statute
should be applied, since an occasion for its Application has yet to arise.
Nor do we have the benefit of the practice of the PCIJ or the ICJ, since
judges ad hoc have so far been chosen to serve only in cases heard by
the full court. I will therefore refrain from indicating the direction
which, in my view, the Tribunal should take in interpreting and imple-
menting this provision; that decision will have to be taken in the con-
text of a concrete situation which may eventually arise. The possibility
nonetheless warrants the following comments: if, in application of this
provision, members of the chamber in question are replaced by other
members of the Tribunal of the nationality of the parties to the dispute,
then we can no longer speak of judges ad hoc as such, but simply of the
replacement of one elected member of the Tribunal by another.
The policy embodied in this provision is, moreover, diametrically
opposed to the Advisory Committee’s proposal, which led to the policy
of adding judges ad hoc, instead of subtracting or replacing bench
members, in order to reach a balance in the representation on the
bench of judges having the nationality of the parties to a dispute. The
solution found in Article 17, paragraph 4, of the Tribunal’s Statute does
not appear very helpful since it could place the President of the

20
Advisory Committee of Jurists, Procès-Verbaux of the Proceedings of the
Committee, thirty-fourth meeting, 24 July 1920, Annex No. 1, 720, at 721.
 judges ad hoc in the itlos1669

Tribunal, who “shall take such steps as may be necessary to give effect”
to it,21 in an extremely difficult position.
In practical terms, this means that when a case is instituted before
a standing chamber of the Tribunal–including the Seabed Disputes
Chamber, the Chamber of Summary Procedure and the three standing
chambers created by the Tribunal to handle disputes on maritime
delimitation, fisheries and environment, respectively–some of its
members may, at the request of the President, have to be replaced by
other bench members of the nationality of the parties if the parties so
choose. This may cause considerable discomfort to the replaced
members, a situation which does not contribute to the much-needed
climate of professionalism and cooperation among colleagues on the
bench.
This policy can work smoothly only for an ad hoc special chamber
established for a particular case, not for the standing special chambers
the composition of which predates the submission of a case. Ad hoc
special chambers are indeed formed in consultation with the parties to
the dispute; thus, the process of their establishment, including their
composition, takes into account the need to include either sitting
members of the nationality of the parties or ad hoc members chosen by
the qualifying party.
In the Tribunal’s history, the only example of a judge ad hoc being
appointed to a chamber is that of the ad hoc special chamber estab-
lished to deal with the dispute on Conservation and Sustainable
Exploitation of Swordfish Stocks in the South-Eastern Pacific Ocean
(Chile v. European Union). In this case, Chile chose a judge ad hoc, in
the absence of a sitting member on the bench having its nationality.22
This choice was made as a means to achieve a balance in the composi-
tion of the chamber, having in mind that an elected member of ITLOS–
who was a national of a member state of the European Community–had
been appointed a member of the ad hoc chamber. As the composition
of this ad hoc chamber was decided in full consultation with the par-
ties, the issue of their equal representation on the bench was addressed
during the establishment of the chamber itself.
Although, as stated above, the provisions of the Tribunal’s Statute on
ad hoc judges should also apply to its chambers, there is one instance in
which this provision does not apply to a chamber. This is in relation to

 Rules of the Tribunal, Article 31, para. 3.

21
22
Judge ad hoc F. Orrego Vicuña, of Chilean citizenship.
1670 josé luis jesus

the ad hoc chamber which may be established by the Seabed Disputes

Chamber itself.
In the case of the three-member ad hoc chamber formed by the
Seabed Disputes Chamber under Article 36 of the Tribunal’s Statute to
deal with a dispute submitted to it in accordance with Article 188, par-
agraph 1 (b), of the Convention, the parties to the dispute would not be
able to choose judges ad hoc since this Chamber is not one of the spe-
cial chambers eligible to receive judges ad hoc.23
It is to be noted that, in this particular case, the Convention instead
seems to go against the logic which underlies the policy set out in
Article 17, paragraph 4, of the Tribunal’s Statute when it establishes
that “members of the ad hoc chamber must not be in the service of, or
nationals of, any of the parties to a dispute”.24

II. Judges ad hoc Chosen by Entities other than States–A sui generis
Procedure of the Tribunal
A specific and innovative policy, applicable only to the Tribunal and its
Seabed Disputes Chamber, is the choice of judges ad hoc by entities
other than states. As is well known, only states may be parties to a dis-
pute before the ICJ. This is not so in the case of the Tribunal.
International organizations may be parties to disputes before the
Tribunal or its Seabed Disputes Chamber. Likewise, entities such as
natural and juridical persons and state enterprises may also be parties
to disputes before the Seabed Disputes Chamber. This obviously has a
direct effect on the choice of judges ad hoc. Such entities are, under the
Statute and Rules of the Tribunal, entitled to choose judges ad hoc, but
only under the following circumstances:
– The other party to the dispute is a State Party and there is upon the
bench a judge of its nationality.25
– One of the parties to the dispute is an international organization and
there is upon the bench a judge of the nationality of one of its mem-
ber states.26
– The State Party itself has chosen a judge ad hoc.

23
 Statute of the Tribunal, Article 17, para. 4; Articles 14 and 15.
24
 Id., Article 36, para. 3.
25
 Rules of the Tribunal, Article 22, para. 1.
26
 Rules of the Tribunal, Article 22, paras. 1 (a) and 3.
 judges ad hoc in the itlos1671

– There is upon the bench a judge of the nationality of the sponsoring

state of the other party. 27
– Two or more of the judges on the bench are nationals of member
states of the international organization concerned or of its sponsor-
ing States; in such cases, the President may request one or more of
those judges to withdraw from the bench.28
It is worth noting, that the non-state entity–namely an international
organization, a natural or juridical person, or a state enterprise–party
to a dispute “is not entitled to choose a judge ad hoc if there is upon the
bench a judge of the nationality of one of the member States of the
international organization or a judge of the nationality of the sponsor-
ing State of such natural or juridical person or state enterprise”.29
Moreover, since a qualifying party may not choose more than one
judge ad hoc to sit on the same case, where two or more elected judges
on the bench are nationals of member states of the international organ-
ization concerned or of the sponsoring states of a party, the President
may, after consultation with the parties, request one or more of such
judges to withdraw from the bench.30

III. Judges ad hoc May Be Admitted not only in Contentious, but also
in Advisory Cases
The nomination of judges ad hoc in advisory cases may be somewhat
difficult to understand, since the request for an advisory opinion relates
to a legal question in relation to which no state is a litigant. This was, in
fact, a difficulty for the Permanent Court in the first years of its work.
Moreover, the Statute of the Permanent Court had no provision which
expressly conferred on it the competence to entertain Advisory
Opinions. Therefore, the issue of whether ad hoc judges could sit on
such cases was not explicitly referred to in any provision of the Statute.
As a result, for a long time the practice of the Permanent Court did
not allow for the nomination of judges ad hoc in Advisory Proceedings.
The debate in the Permanent Court leading to the acceptance of
the nomination of people to serve as judges ad hoc in advisory cases

27
 Id., Article 22, para. 4.
28
 Id.
29
 Id.
30
 Rules of the Tribunal, Article 22, para. 4.
1672 josé luis jesus

generated considerable energy and interest for quite some time.

Eventually, this practice was changed in 1927 as a result of the repeated
efforts of Judge Anzilotti, a member of the Court who was an Italian
national; subsequently, the nomination of judges ad hoc in Advisory
Proceedings became possible, but only where the question submitted
to the Court related to a dispute between states.
ITLOS and its Seabed Disputes Chamber may be requested to give
Advisory Opinions. Working as a full court, the Tribunal, as estab-
lished in its Rules, “may give an Advisory Opinion on a legal question
if an international agreement related to the purposes of the Convention
specifically provides for the submission to the Tribunal of a request for
such an opinion”.31
The acceptance of an ad hoc judge to sit as a member of the Tribunal
during consideration of a request for an Advisory Opinion depends on
whether ITLOS determines that the request relates to a legal question
pending between two or more states.32 Historically, choices by states of
people to serve as judges ad hoc in advisory cases before the PCIJ and
the ICJ have, in some instances, been rejected on the ground that the
request for the Advisory Opinion was not related to a pending dispute
between two or more states. As concerns the Permanent Court, the
choice of a judge ad hoc to sit in such cases was rejected on three occa-
sions. Also the ICJ has rejected the choice of ad hoc judges on the same
grounds. In the Namibia case, for example, the ICJ held that South
Africa’s choice of an ad hoc judge could not be accepted, since the case
did not concern “a legal question actually pending between two or
more States”.33
To date, the Tribunal sitting as a full court has entertained no request
for an advisory. As far as the Seabed Disputes Chamber–the only cham-
ber of the Tribunal which may entertain the request for an Advisory
Opinion–is concerned the Convention expressly recognizes the juris-
diction of the Chamber in such cases, stating that “the Seabed Disputes
Chamber shall give Advisory Opinions at the request of the Assembly
or the Council on legal questions arising within the scope of their

31
 Id., Article 138.
32
 See Articles 130, para. 2 and 138, para. 3 of the Rules of the Tribunal.
33
Legal Consequences for States of the Continued Presence of South Africa in Namibia
(South West Africa) notwithstanding Security Council Resolution 276 (1970), Advisory
Opinion, ICJ Reports 1971, 16, 24 and 27. For a more detailed discussion of this case
see E. Jimenez de Arechaga, Judges ad hoc in Advisory Proceedings, 31 Zeitschrift für
ausländisches öffentliches Recht und Völkerrecht, 697–711 (1971).
 judges ad hoc in the itlos1673

activities …”.34 The Seabed Disputes Chamber is, in fact, currently

seized of its first such request, received in May 2010, concerning the
responsibilities and obligations of states sponsoring persons and enti-
ties with respect to activities in the area.
As in the case of ITLOS, a choice of an ad hoc judge to serve in an
advisory case before the Seabed Disputes Chamber may be rejected on
the ground that the request for an Advisory Opinion is not related to a
dispute between two or more states. No such choice was made in rela-
tion to the advisory case currently before the Seabed Disputes Chamber.

C. Status of the Judge ad hoc: Rights, Duties and

Requirements

Judges ad hoc have the same rights and duties as the elected members
of the bench; according to the Statute, they “shall participate in the
decision on terms of complete equality with their colleagues”.35 They
are entitled to compensation for each day on which they exercise their
function.36 They should be “persons enjoying the highest reputation for
fairness and integrity and of recognized competence in the field of the
law of the sea”37 and are required to make the same solemn declaration
as the elected members before taking up their duties. They are subject
to the conditions relating to the participation of members in a particu-
lar case.38
Finally, a few words on the requirements for nomination: a judge
ad hoc chosen by a party to a dispute may not be confirmed if he “has
previously taken part as agent, counsel or advocate for one of the
parties, or as a member of a national or international court or tribunal,
or in any other capacity”.39 This is the same policy followed by the ICJ.
Moreover, in 2002, the ICJ issued Practice Directions Nos. VII
and VIII, which establish a more detailed policy on situations which
would make the choice of person as a judge ad hoc before it undesira-
ble. The ICJ, in Practice Direction VII, went a step further, requesting
that the

34
 See Article 191 of the Convention.
35
 Statute of the Tribunal, Article 17, para. 6; Rules of the Tribunal, Article 8, para. 1.
36
 Statute of the Tribunal, Article 18, para. 4.
37
 Id., Article17, para. 7, and Article 2, para. 2.
38
 Id., Article 8.
39
 Id., Article 8, para. 1.
1674 josé luis jesus

“… parties, when choosing a judge ad hoc pursuant to Article 31 of the

Statute and Article 35 of the Rules of the Court, should refrain from
nominating persons who are acting as agents, counsel or advocate in
another case before the Court or have acted in that capacity in the three
years preceding the date of the nomination. Furthermore, parties should
likewise refrain from designating as agent, counsel or advocate in a case
before the Court a person who sits as judge ad hoc in another case before
the Court.”40
ITLOS may wish to consider the Court’s policy in these Practice
Directions, since they strengthen the prospect of a better administra-
tion of justice.

40
The Practice Directions are posted on the ICJ website under “Basic documents”
available at http://www.icj-cij.org/documents/index.php?p1=4&p2=4&p3=0.
 Between Contemporaneous and Evolutive
Interpretation: The Use of “Subsequent Practice”
in the Judgment of the International Court of
Justice Concerning the Case of Costa Rica
v. Nicaragua (2009)

Georg Nolte

Rüdiger Wolfrum is particularly sensitive, both as an academic lawyer

and as a judge, to the dynamic aspects of international law, paying spe-
cial attention to the practice of states.1 I therefore hope that he is inter-
ested in the following observations resulting from the current work of
the International Law Commission (ILC).
During its 61st session in 2009 the Commission established a Study
Group on the topic of treaties over time,2 based on a proposal which
placed particular emphasis on the role of subsequent agreements and
practice for the development of treaties.3 Two months after the estab-
lishment of the Study Group, the International Court of Justice (ICJ)
handed down a judgment in the Case Concerning the Dispute Regarding
Navigational and Related Rights (Costa Rica v. Nicaragua),4 which
offers an instructive illustration of an important aspect of the ILC
project. This aspect is the role which subsequent practice plays as a

1
See e.g. R. Wolfrum/R. Volker (eds.), Developments of International Law in Treaty
Making (2005); R. Wolfrum, The Decision-making Process according to Sec. 3 of the
Annex to the Implementation Agreement, 55 Zeitschrift für ausländisches öffentliches
Recht und Völkerrecht, 310–328 (1995); Id., Reflections on the Development of
International Treaty Law under the Auspices of the United States Hegemony and
Globalization, 8 Austrian Review of International and European Law 229–234 (2003);
Id., The Impact of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea on the
Progressive Development of International Law, 39 The Indian Journal of International
Law 615–625 (1999).
2
ILC Report, UN Doc. A/64/10, Chp. XII, paras. 217–226 (2009), available at http://
untreaty.un.org/ilc/reports/2009/2009report.htm.
3
ILC Report, UN Doc. A/63/10, Annex A–Treaties over time, in particular:
Subsequent Agreement and Practice (2009), available at http://untreaty.un.org/ilc/
reports/2008/2008report.htm.
4
Case Concerning the Dispute Regarding Navigational and Related Rights (Costa
Rica v. Nicaragua), Judgment of 13 July 2009, available at http://www.icj-cij.org/docket/
index.php?p1=3&p2=3&k=37&case=133&code=coni&p3=4.
1676 georg nolte

means of interpretation between “contemporaneous” and “evolution-

ary” interpretation. In this short essay I want to describe and situate the
judgment within the jurisprudence of the Court and of some arbitral
tribunals as well as some previous work of the Commission.
The role of subsequent practice as a means of interpretation depends,
as a cross-cutting issue, on the answer to the question of the so-called
inter-temporal law.5 This question has been put in terms of whether
a treaty must be interpreted in the light of the circumstances at the
time of its conclusion (“contemporaneous interpretation”), or rather in
the light of the circumstances at the time of its application (“evolutive
interpretation”).6 Subsequent practice has a greater or lesser role to play
for the interpretation of treaties depending on the resolution of this
question.

A. The Judgment in the Case of Costa

Rica v. Nicaragua (2009)

The Case Concerning the Dispute Regarding Navigational and Related

Rights7 concerned the freedom of navigation for Costa Rican vessels
on the San Juan River which is under the sovereignty of Nicaragua.
A treaty between the two countries dating from 1858 grants Costa Rica
freedom of navigation on the river for “objetos de comercio” (a term
which was translated by both parties as “for the purposes of com-
merce”). Nicaragua contended that “comercio” covered only goods, but
not services, and in particular not the transport of persons for the pur-
pose of tourism. Nicaragua asserted that, at the time when the treaty

5
M. Fitzmaurice, Dynamic (Evolutive) Interpretation of Treaties, 21 Hague
Yearbook of International Law 101 et seq. (2008); T. O. Elias, The Doctrine of
Intertemporal Law, 74 American Journal of International Law 285 et seq. (1989);
D. Greig, Intertemporality and the Law of Treaties, British Institute of International
and Comparative Law (2003); M. Kotzur, Intertemporal Law, in: R. Wolfrum (ed.), The
Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law, Oxford University Press (2008),
online edition http://www.mpepil.com; U. Linderfalk, Doing the Right Thing for the
Right Reason–Why Dynamic or Static Approaches Should be Taken in the
Interpretation of Treaties, 10 International Community Law Review, 109 et seq. (2008);
G. Silva, Le facteur de temps et les traités, 154 Recueil des Cours 217 et seq., 268 (1977);
A. Verdross/B. Simma, Universelles Völkerrecht, at 496 et seq., para. 782 et seq. (3rd ed.
1984).
6
M. Fitzmaurice, Dynamic (Evolutive) Interpretation of Treaties, 21 Hague
Yearbook of International Law 101 et seq. (2008).
7
See supra note 4.
between contemporaneous and evolutive interpretation1677

was concluded and for a long time thereafter, the term “comercio” was
understood by the States Parties to be limited to goods and did not
cover services. The ICJ, however, did not consider this argument to be
conclusive:
“On the one hand, the subsequent practice of the parties, within the
meaning of Article 31 (3) (b) of the Vienna Convention, can result in a
departure from the original intent on the basis of a tacit agreement
between the parties. On the other hand, there are situations in which the
parties’ intent upon conclusion of the treaty was … to give the terms used
… a meaning or content capable of evolving, not one fixed once and for
all, so as to make allowance for, among other things, developments in
international law.”8
The Court then held that the term “comercio” was a “generic term” of
which “the parties necessarily” had “been aware that the meaning …
was likely to evolve over time”. Since, according to the Court, “the treaty
has been entered into for a very long period … the parties must be
presumed … to have intended” this term to “have an evolving
meaning”.9 And since the term “commerce” is today generally under-
stood to cover both goods and services, the Court concluded that Costa
Rica had the right, under the treaty, to transport not only goods but
also people on the San Juan River.10 Judge Skotnikov disagreed with
this reasoning but ultimately arrived at the same result: while he con-
sidered that an evolutive treaty interpretation was generally not appro-
priate, he did accept that a more recent subsequent practice of Costa
Rican operated tourism on the San Juan river “for at least a decade”
against which Nicaragua “never protested” but rather “engaged in con-
sistent practice of allowing tourist navigation” had led to a different
understanding of the treaty.11
The judgment and the dissenting opinion of Judge Skotnikov dem-
onstrate that subsequent practice can be used as an argument for bas-
ing evolutive interpretation on the determinable will of the parties, and
that it can be used both to support and to limit an evolving under-
standing of a treaty, depending on how the question of the inter-
temporal law is resolved.

    8
Id., (note 4), para. 64.
    9
Id., (note 4), paras. 66–68.
10
Id., (note 4), para. 71.
11
Id., (note 4), para. 9.
1678 georg nolte

B. Previous Work of the Commission

The Commission has dealt with the question of inter-temporal law pri-
marily in its work on the law of treaties and on the fragmentation of
international law. The Commission could not agree on formulating a
specific article on the question of inter-temporal law, leaving the issue
unresolved within what later became Article 31 (3) (c) of the Vienna
Convention on the Law of Treaties (VCLT).12 The matter was addressed
again within the Study Group on Fragmentation and continued to give
rise to discussions there.13
The debates within the Study Group on Fragmentation have led to
the conclusion that it is difficult to formulate and to agree on a general
rule which would give preference either to a principle of contempora-
neous interpretation or to one of evolutionary interpretation. In his
Final Report, the Chairman of the Study Group, Martti Koskenniemi,
therefore concluded that it would be “best … to merely single out some
considerations”14 to be taken into account when interpreting a particu-
lar treaty:
“The starting-point must be … the fact that deciding this issue is a matter
of interpreting the treaty itself. Does the language used give any
indication? The starting-point of the argument might plausibly be the
‘principle of contemporaneity’–with regard to the normative environ-
ment, as it existed at the moment when the obligation entered into
force for a relevant party. When might the treaty language itself, in its
context, provide for the taking account of future developments?
Examples of when this might be a reasonable assumption include at least:
(a) Use of a term in the treaty which is ‘not static but evolutionary’. …
(b) The description of obligations in very general terms, thus operating
a kind of renvoi to the state of the law at the time of its application.
….”

12
Yearbook of the International Law Commission, Vol. 2, 222, para. 16 (1996);
R. Higgins, Some Observations on the Inter-Temporal Rule in International Law, in:
J. Makarczyk (ed.), Theory of International Law at the Threshold of the 21st Century,
178 (1996).
13
Report of the Study Group of the International Law Commission, finalized by
M. Koskenniemi, Official Records of the General Assembly Fifty-seventh Session,
Supplement No. 10 (A/60/10), 240, para. 475.
14
Id., para. 478.
between contemporaneous and evolutive interpretation1679

C. A Trend towards more Evolutionary Interpretation

This nuanced approach is well-grounded in the jurisprudence of the

ICJ and arbitral tribunals. It does not, however, prevent the alternative
between a more “contemporaneous” and a more “evolutionary” inter-
pretation of a treaty from re-emerging in specific cases. This was
pointed out by Judge Guillaume in his Declaration in the Case
Concerning the Dispute Regarding Navigational and Related Rights.
There he identified two different strands of jurisprudence, one tending
towards a more contemporaneous and the other towards a more evolu-
tive interpretation.15
While it is certainly possible to group the relevant cases along these
lines, it is noteworthy that those cases which favour a more contempo-
raneous approach mostly concern rather specific terms in boundary
treaties (“watershed”;16 “main channel / Thalweg”;17 names of places;18
“mouth” of a river19). In such cases changes in the meaning of (general
or specific) terminology normally do not affect the substance of the
specific arrangement, which is designed to be as stable and divorced
from contextual elements as possible. The case which is most often
quoted for supporting a principle of contemporaneous interpretation,
Rights of Nationals of the United States in Morocco, while raising the
question of the interpretation of the somewhat more general concept of
“disputes”, nevertheless concerned “disputes” which were originally
clearly identifiable, which occurred in practice and the exclusion of

15
Case Concerning the Dispute Regarding Navigational and Related Rights (Costa
Rica v. Nicaragua), Separate Opinion of Judge ad hoc Guillaume, supra note 4, paras. 9
et seq.; see also Official Records of the General Assembly Fifty-seventh Session,
Supplement No. 10 (A/60/10), 240, para. 479; Report of the Study Group of the
International Law Commission finalized by M. Koskenniemi, Official Records of the
General Assembly, Fifty-sixth Session, Supplement No. 10 (A/56/10), 214, para. 467;
Resolution of the Institut de Droit International on “Le problème intertemporel en
droit international public”, 56 Annuaire de l’Institut de Droit International 536 et seq.
(1975).
16
Case Concerning the Temple of Preah Vihear (Cambodia v. Thailand), Merits, ICJ
Reports 1962, 14.
17
Kasikili/Sedudu Island (Botswana v. Namibia), ICJ Reports 1999, 1060–1061,
para. 21.
18
Decision Regarding Delimitation of the Border between Eritrea and Ethiopia
(Eritrea v. Ethiopia), Award of 13 April 2002, UNRIAA Vol. XXV, 110, para. 3–5.
19
Land and Maritime Boundary between Cameroon and Nigeria (Cameroon v.
Nigeria: Equatorial Guinea intervening), ICJ Reports 2002, 339, para. 48.
1680 georg nolte

which from an uncertain moment in time onwards was difficult to

justify. Perhaps this particular judgment, due to the context in which it
was delivered in 1952, should also not be accorded the same authority
as more recent proouncements.
On the other hand, those cases which are invoked for establishing
the legitimacy of an evolutionary interpretation turn around terms the
meaning of which is inherently more context-dependent. This is true,
in particular, for the terms “the strenuous conditions of the modern
world” or “the well-being and development of such peoples” in Arti-
cle 22 of the Covenant of the League of Nations. In its Namibia Opinion
the ICJ has given these terms a progressive interpretation by referring
to the evolution of the right of peoples to self-determination after the
Second World War.20 Other recognized grounds for the possibility, in
principle, of an evolutive interpretation are the “generic” character of a
particular term in a treaty21 and the fact that the treaty is designed to be
“of continuing duration”.22
There may, however, also be more specific reasons which can justify
an evolutionary interpretation. Thus, in the Aegean Sea Continental
Shelf case the principle that submission to the jurisdiction of an inter-
national court is not to be presumed seems to have contributed to an
evolutive interpretation of the term “territorial status” in a reserva-
tion.23 The result of this approach was that certain forms of territorial
status which have emerged since the conclusion of the treaty are
included in that term, such as the continental shelf.24 In the Iron Rhine
case, yet another consideration, the continued viability and effective-
ness of the arrangement as such, was an important reason for the
Tribunal to accept that even rather technical rules may have to be inter-
preted evolutively.25

20
Legal Consequences for States of the Continued Presence of South Africa in Namibia
(South West Africa) notwithstanding Security Council Resolution 276 (1970), ICJ
Reports 1971, 30, para. 51.
21
Aegean Sea Continental Shelf (Greece v. Turkey), ICJ Reports 1978, 32,
para. 77.
22
Case Concerning the Dispute Regarding Navigational and Related Rights (Costa
Rica v. Nicaragua), (note 4), para. 66.
23
Id., para. 77; for the restrictive interpretation of submissions to the jurisdiction of
an international court or tribunal see C. Rousseau, Droit International Public, 51, para.
55 (1953).
24
See Case Concerning the Delimitation of Maritime Boundary between Guinea-
Bissau and Senegal (Guinea-Bissau v. Senegal), Award of 31 July 1989, UNRIAA
Vol. XX, 151–152, para. 85.
25
Arbitration Regarding the Iron Rhine (“Ijzeren Rijn”) Railway (Belgium v. The
Netherlands), Permanent Court of Arbitration, Award of 24 May 2005, para. 80: “in the
between contemporaneous and evolutive interpretation1681

On the whole, the judicial pronouncements which have recognized

some form of evolutive interpretation are mostly of more recent origin
and they are rather diverse. The ICJ has recognized the possibility of an
evolutive interpretation for multilateral as well as bilateral treaties, and
even for unilateral declarations.26 Originally, the first sentence of Max
Huber’s famous dictum in the Island of Palmas case according to which
“a judicial fact must be appreciated in the light of the law contemporary
with it”27 had led many commentators generally to favour a contempo-
raneous interpretation.28 Nevertheless, even if it were still appropriate
to proceed from a presumption that a treaty should be given a contem-
poraneous interpretation, this is not a strong presumption and it stands
in the face of an open list of exceptions. One of those exceptions could
be human rights treaties.29
On balance, therefore, the jurisprudence of the ICJ and arbitral tri-
bunals does not seem to contradict the “general support among the
leading writers today for evolutive interpretation of treaties”, as the
Tribunal in the Iron Rhine case has noted.30 This does not mean, how-
ever, that the rules of interpretation in international law have reached a
stage which Judge Alvarez postulated shortly after the establishment of
the United Nations for a “new international law”,31 in which treaty
interpreters would have to interpret the development of inter-
national organizations “not in accordance with the views of those who
created it, but in accordance with the requirements of international

present case it is not a conceptual or generic term that is in issue, but rather new techni-
cal developments relating to the operation and capacity of the railway”.
26
Legal Consequences for States of the Continued Presence of South Africa in Namibia
(South West Africa) notwithstanding Security Council Resolution 276 (1970), ICJ
Reports 1971, para. 51; Case Concerning the Dispute Regarding Navigational and
Related Rights (Costa Rica v. Nicaragua), supra note 4; Aegean Sea Continental Shelf,
(Greece v. Turkey), ICJ Reports 1978, 16, para. 38.
27
Island of Palmas case (Netherlands v. USA), Award of 4 April 1928, UNRIAA
Vol. II, 845.
28
R. Higgins, Some Observations on the Inter-Temporal Rule in International Law,
in: J. Makarczyk (ed.), Theory of International Law at the Threshold of the 21st Century,
173, at 174 (1996).
29
Id., 173, at 174.
30
Arbitration Regarding the Iron Rhine (“Ijzeren Rijn”) Railway (Belgium v. The
Netherlands), Permanent Court of Arbitration, Award of 24 May 2005, 73 et seq.,
para. 81; see e.g. J.-M. Sorel, Article 31, in: O. Corten/P. Klein (eds.), Les Conventions
de Vienne sur le Droit des Traités, 1330, para. 55 (2009); R. Bernhardt, Interpretation
in International Law, in: R. Bernhardt (ed.), Encyclopedia of Public International Law,
Vol. 5, 1419, 1421 and 1423 (2003).
31
Conditions of Admission of a State to Membership in the United Nations (Arti-
cle 4 of the Charter), Advisory Opinion, Dissenting Opinion Judge Alvarez, ICJ
Reports 1948, 67 et seq.
1682 georg nolte

life”.32 In fact, the pronouncements in which the ICJ and arbitral tribu-
nals have expressly practised evolutive interpretation have not strayed
far from the text and from the determinable intention of the parties to
the treaty, as also expressed by their subsequent conduct. Even the
judgment in the Gabčíkovo-Nagymaros case, which stands for the rec-
ognition “that newly developed norms of environmental law are rele-
vant for the implementation of the Treaty” and for the proposition that
“by inserting these evolving provisions in the Treaty, the parties recog-
nized the potential necessity to adapt the Project”, ultimately refers
back to the parties themselves. According to the Court, the parties
should, by “agreement, incorporate the ‘newly developed norms’
through the application of Articles 15, 19 and 20 of the Treaty. These
articles do not contain specific obligations of performance but require
the parties, in carrying out their obligations to ensure that the quality
of water in the Danube is not impaired and that nature is protected, to
take new environmental norms into consideration when agreeing upon
the means to be specified in the Joint Contractual Plan”.33
In a similar vein, the Tribunal in the MOX Plant Case did not con-
sider an evolutive interpretation of an environmental treaty in the light
of subsequent developments since these developments consisted of a
process of trying to amend the pertinent treaty, which had not yet come
to an end.34 If, however, a treaty is seen to refer to extraneous rules an
evolutive interpretation can take place.35
The legitimacy of interpreting both evolutively and contemporane-
ously, depending on the terms of the treaty and other circumstances,
can be exemplified by the Case Concerning the Delimitation of Maritime
Boundary between Guinea-Bissau and Senegal.36 In this case the
Tribunal emphasized that a treaty had to be interpreted contemporane-
ously and not take into account notions which did not exist at the time

32
Id., 68.
33
Gabčíkovo-Nagymaros Project (Hungary v. Slovakia), ICJ Reports 1997, 67,
para. 112.
34
Dispute Concerning Access to Information Under Article 9 of the OSPAR Convention
(Ireland v. United Kingdom), Permanent Court of Arbitration, Final Award of 2 July
2003, 42 ILM 1118, paras. 101 and 103 (2003).
35
Dispute Concerning Filleting within the Gulf of St. Lawrence (“La Bretagne”)
(Canada v. France), Award of 17 July 1986, 82 International Law Reports 617 et seq.,
paras. 35 et seq. (1990).
36
See Case Concerning the Delimitation of Maritime Boundary between Guinea-
Bissau and Senegal (Guinea-Bissau v. Senegal), Award of 31 July 1989, UNRIAA Vol.
XX, 119 et seq.
between contemporaneous and evolutive interpretation1683

of the conclusion of the treaty. Nevertheless, the Tribunal also stated

that certain terms which were already existent at the time of the con-
clusion of the treaty could be interpreted evolutively.37 The case shows
that evolutionary and contemporaneous interpretation can coexist,
depending on the circumstances, and are both possible considerations
in the process of interpretation.

D. Relationship between Evolutionary Interpretation

and Subsequent Practice

Evolutionary interpretation is not a separate method of interpretation

but rather the result of a proper application of the usual means of inter-
pretation.38 It is, therefore, appropriate that subsequent practice plays
an important role in some of the leading cases in which international
courts and tribunals have recognized and practised evolutionary inter-
pretation. In the case of Legal Consequences for States of the Continued
Presence of South Africa in Namibia, for example, the ICJ referred to the
practice of UN organs and of states in order to specify the conclusions
which it derived from the inherently evolutionary nature of the right to
self-determination. In the Aegean Sea Continental Shelf case, the Court
found it “significant” that what it had identified as the “ordinary, generic
sense” of the term “territorial dispute” (“any matters properly to be
considered as relating to the integrity and legal regime of a state’s terri-
tory”) was confirmed by the administrative practice of the United
Nations and by the behaviour of the party invoking the restrictive
interpretation in a different context.39
While evolutionary interpretation and the taking into account of
subsequent practice are, in principle, mutually complementary, and are
often used in that way in practice, it is noteworthy that subsequent
practice can play both a justificatory and a limiting role for evolution-
ary interpretation. The justificatory role consists in demonstrating that
an evolved understanding of a treaty can–also–be based on subsequent
practice as an authentic means of interpretation. The limiting role of

37
Id., 151–152, para. 85.
38
Case Concerning the Dispute Regarding Navigational and Related Rights (Costa
Rica v. Nicaragua), Separate Opinion of Judge ad hoc Guillaume, supra note 4, para. 9;
A. Verdross/B. Simma, Universelles Völkerrecht, 498 (3rd ed. 1984).
39
Aegean Sea Continental Shelf (Greece v. Turkey), ICJ Reports 1978, 31, para. 74.
1684 georg nolte

subsequent practice40 emerges more clearly with the growing recogni-

tion of the possibility of an evolutive interpretation. This was demon-
strated by the Case Concerning the Dispute Regarding Navigational
and Related Rights: Here, the two judges who emphasized the need for
stability of treaty relationships41 favoured the recognition of an infor-
mally changed interpretation by way of subsequent practice, whereas
the Opinion of the Court itself adopts an even more dynamic approach
by using an evolutive form of interpretation. Thus, for Judges Skotnikov
and Guillaume emphasis on subsequent practice served as an alterna-
tive to a possibly even more dynamic interpretation. These two judges
used subsequent practice as an interpretative tool, which claims to
respect the will of the parties more faithfully than the evolutive
approach of the Court.

40
See e.g. A. Boyle/C. Chinkin, The Making of International Law, 246 (2007).
41
See Land and Maritime Boundary between Cameroon and Nigeria (Cameroon v.
Nigeria: Equatorial Guinea intervening), Separate Opinion of Judge Al-Khasawneh,
ICJ Reports 2002, 502, para. 15: “Nor has the concept of intertemporal law found sup-
port in judicial decisions where it has often been overcome with the aid of a belated
discovery of the intention of the parties as was the case in the Aegean Sea case, or by
reading the provisions of modern law into the treaty”; critical remarks also appear in
Gabčíkovo-Nagymaros Project (Hungary v. Slovakia), Separate Opinion Judge Bedjaoui,
ICJ Reports 1997, 121–124, paras. 7–19; Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear
Weapons, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Reports 1996, 226, Declaration of President Bedjaoui
270, paras. 12 et seq.
 Use and Abuse of Interim Protection before
International Courts and Tribunals

Karin Oellers-Frahm

A. Introduction

The settlement of international disputes by international courts or

tribunals, which a century ago was just at its beginnings, can today
be considered a success story. The number of international dispute
settlement organs has increased impressively, which in the last analy-
sis reflects the acceptability of the judges’ work. It is therefore a pleas-
ure to contribute to the Festschrift in honour of Rüdiger Wolfrum who
embodies not only the qualities of a renowned international judge,
but also those of an outstanding international lawyer familiar with and
also active in nearly all fields of international law.
This chapter will focus on a particular instrument which has increas-
ingly been used–perhaps also abused–in international adjudication,
namely provisional measures of protection. Of course, provisional pro-
tection measures have been the subject of numerous–even innumera-
ble–articles, and it would seem that since the findings of the ICJ1 which
have been followed by other courts and judicial bodies2 on the binding
force of such measures all has been said and there is no need for any
further study of such provisional measures. However, recent develop-
ments in using interim protection and also Rüdiger Wolfrum himself
mentioning rather casually and without further explanation that “a
tendency may develop that de facto decisions on provisional measures
may substitute those on the merits”3 have paved the way for a new dis-
cussion on interim protection. Accordingly, the following necessarily
summary considerations will first address some recent developments

1
LaGrand (Germany v. United States of America), ICJ Reports 2001, 466.
2
ECHR, Mamatkulov v. Turkey, Judgment of 6 February 2003, Appl. No. 46827/99;
UN Human Rights Committee, Dante Piandong et al. v. Philippines, UN Doc. CCPR/
C/70/D/869/1999; UN Committee against Torture, Mafhoud Brada v. France, UN Doc.
CAT/C/34/D/195/2002.
3
R. Wolfrum, Interim (Provisional) Measures of Protection, in: R. Wolfrum (ed.),
The Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law, Oxford University Press
(2008), online edition http://www.mpepil.com (emphasis added).
1686 karin oellers-frahm

which can be summarized under the heading of interim measures as a

means of “litigation strategy” (B) and then turn to the particularities of
the use of interim protection in the field of human rights (C) and in the
context of the Law of the Sea Tribunal’s competence to issue provi-
sional measures to safeguard the marine environment (D); this will
lead to an assessment of the issue of de facto substitution of the decision
on the merits by the decision on provisional measures (E), which will
be followed by some concluding remarks on the use, abuse or merely
improper use of provisional measures (F).

B. Interim Protection as a Litigation Strategy

The fact that requests for the indication of provisional measures are
increasing before all international courts and tribunals cannot be
explained just by the increase in cases at large, but is also due to the
aims pursued by requests for such measures which are not always
strictly related to the preservation of the rights at stake in the case, and
thus the efficacy of the judgment, which are the original justification
for such measures. This means that the request for interim protection
becomes part of the litigation strategy, which in principle serves two
different aims: on the one hand interim protection is used to assess the
possible outcome of the case in order to plan its further conduct, and
on the other hand it may be used because it offers a forum for address-
ing the international public.4

I. Interim Measures and Prospects of Further Conduct of Procedure

A request for interim protection leads to a prompt reaction from the
court, which undertakes a summary evaluation and prima facie finding
on jurisdiction as well as on the possible injury to the rights claimed,
thus including a first appreciation of the basis of the claim. On the basis
of the findings of the court both parties will be enabled roughly to
appreciate the chances of success of their claims and the pros and cons
of going on with the case. If, for example, the court finds prima facie in
favour of its jurisdiction, the Applicant can be fairly sure that the court

4
J.-M. Sorel/F. Poirat, Les procédures incidentes devant la Cour internationale de
Justice: exercice ou abus de droits?, at 71 (2001); S. Rosenne, Provisional Measures in
International Law–The International Court of Justice and the International Tribunal
for the Law of the Sea, at 218 et seq. (2005).
 use and abuse of interim protection1687

will probably hesitate to reverse such a decision and thus has already
achieved its first success.5 In cases where the court indicates that par-
ticular measures should be taken or rejects such an indication both
parties already have a first signal concerning the outcome of the case.
In the ICJ case concerning Passage through the Great Belt,6 the state-
ments of the Court concerning the existence of a right of passage
through the Great Belt for Finland as well as the possible conse-
quences in the event of a finding that the construction of the bridge
constituted an infringement of that right were a clear indication to
Denmark, the Respondent, that an order to dismantle the construction
could not be ruled out.7 As this possibility was highly unwelcome,
Denmark agreed to negotiate a solution, which led to the discontinu-
ance of the case.8 However, this case cannot be considered an abuse of
interim protection, because the Court’s decision contributed to and
facilitated the direct and friendly peaceful settlement of the dispute.9
The same is true with regard to most of the provisional measures issued
by the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) in cases concerning
expulsion or extradition; here, the statement that human rights would
be violated by the receiving state has more often than not led to a guar-
antee for the individual concerned and an amicable settlement of the
dispute.10

II. Interim Measures in Cases Involving Use of Force

But there are other cases where the request for provisional measures
primarily serves the aim of (ab)using the Court as a forum to address
the international public and to draw the attention of the interna-
tional community to a particular situation. As the request for provi-
sional measures obliges the Court to open the proceedings, the state
concerned has to take a position on the alleged breach of interna-
tional law and thus justify its action even if the chances of finding a
basis for competence are small. Thus, in the New Zealand v. France case

    5
J.-M. Sorel/F. Poirat (note 4), at 76, exposé Guillaume.
    6
Passage through the Great Belt (Finland v. Denmark), ICJ Reports 1991, 12.
    7
Id., at 19.
    8
Passage through the Great Belt (Finland v. Denmark), Order of 10 September
1992, ICJ Reports 1992, 348.
    9
S. Rosenne (note 4), at 221–222.
10
Infra C. II.; see also M. de Salvia, La pratique de la Cour Européenne des Droits
de l’Homme relative aux mesures provisoires, in: G. Cohen-Jonathan/J.-F. Flauss (eds.),
Mesures conservatoires et droits fondamentaux, 177–194, at 182 et seq. (2005).
1688 karin oellers-frahm

of 199511 France had to justify its nuclear tests although the Court
clearly lacked jurisdiction.12 The strategy of using interim protection as
a means to make public and strengthen a state’s position in a disputed
situation13 is applied increasingly in cases concerning the use of force.
In such cases, the Applicant sometimes brings his claim merely in order
to obtain an indication of provisional measures–which only requires a
prima facie finding on jurisdiction–although the Applicant himself
knows or has good reason to know that the Court has no competence
on the merits.14 And even if the Court already at this stage finds that it
manifestly has no jurisdiction, the Applicant has achieved his aim,
namely a public forum for his claim. As an example, reference can be
made to the Armed Activities on the Territory of the Congo (New
Application: 2002) case where the Court did not find any of the eight
treaties claimed by the Congo as a basis of jurisdiction as constituting
even a prima facie basis of jurisdiction,15 a finding which was confirmed
in the judgment.16 The Legality of Use of Force cases17 have also to be
mentioned in this context. Here the Court denied its competence
prima facie in eight cases,18 confirming this finding in the merits
stage, but offering Yugoslavia a forum in which to bring its allegations
of the commission of genocide by the accused NATO States. In these
cases the request for provisional measures is clearly improper and
constitutes, as does the request on the merits, an abuse of the Court

11
Request for an Examination of the Situation in Accordance with Paragraph
63 of the Court’s Judgment of 20 December 1974 in the Nuclear Tests case (New
Zealand v. France), ICJ Reports 1995, 288.
12
J.-M. Sorel/F. Poirat (note 4), exposé Pellet, at 70–71.
13
C. Gray, The Use and Abuse of the International Court of Justice: Cases concern-
ing the Use of Force after Nicaragua, 14 EJIL, 867–905, at 904 (2003); S. Rosenne (note
4), at 221.
14
J.-M. Sorel/F. Poirat (note 4), at 70–71; S. Rosenne (note 4), at 220; T. Treves,
The Political Use of Unilateral Applications and Provisional Measures Proceedings, in:
J. A. Frowein et al. (eds.), Verhandeln für den Frieden/Negotiating for Peace; Liber
Amicorum Tono Eitel, 463, at 466 (2003).
15
Armed Activities on the Territory of the Congo (New Application: 2002),
(Democratic Republic of the Congo v. Rwanda), Provisional Measures, Order of 10 July
2002, ICJ Reports 2002, 219.
16
Armed Activities on the Territory of the Congo (New Application: 2002), (Demo­
cratic Republic of the Congo v. Rwanda), Jurisdiction and Admissibility, Judgment,
ICJ Reports 2006, 6.
17
Legality of Use of Force (Yugoslavia v. Belgium [and nine other NATO States]),
ICJ Reports 1999, 124.
18
In two cases, Spain and the United States, the Court found that there was
definitely no basis for jurisdiction and struck the cases out of the list.
 use and abuse of interim protection1689

which cannot dismiss the case in limine litis, but has to open the
proceedings.19
It has been argued that in cases which concern the use of force, the
Court’s power to indicate binding provisional measures is slowly bring-
ing the Court into the general context of the international mechanisms
for the maintenance and restoration of international peace and secu-
rity.20 In such cases, interim protection is not strictly or merely related
to the preservation of the rights of the parties to the case, but further-
more concerns a common good, international peace and security and
the integrity of persons, and thus may serve to protect victims or com-
mon values rather than preserve rights belonging to the parties.21 This
situation may require a more generous use of this instrument; in par-
ticular, for the sake of international peace and security, interim meas-
ures should not be refused for lack of prima facie jurisdiction on the
merits.22 In the Legality of Use of Force cases it was explicitly argued that
the Court should act proprio motu to issue at least a general statement
appealing to the parties to act in compliance with the Charter, and not
to aggravate or extend the dispute even though the adoption of provi-
sional measures was refused for lack of prima facie jurisdiction.23 In
fact, such an appeal was issued by the Court24 and not criticized by any
of the judges while–only three years later–in the Armed Activities on the
Territory of the Congo (New Application: 2002) case, where also no pro-
visional measures were issued for lack of prima facie jurisdiction, a
similar appeal by the Court concerning the duties of the parties not to
violate human rights or international humanitarian law was opposed
by several judges. They differed on whether such an appeal was ­correct25

19
J.-M. Sorel/F. Poirat (note 4), exposé Guillaume, 78.
20
S. Rosenne (note 4), at 222.
21
It is worth mentioning that the discussion paper in the publication of J.-M.
Sorel/F. Poirat (note 4), is entitled “Les mesures conservatoires: La sauvegarde du droit
des victimes?” (emphasis added), at 61.
22
J. G. Merrills, Interim Measures of Protection and the Substantive Jurisdiction of
the International Court of Justice, 36 CLJ 86 (1977); M. N. Mendelson, Interim
Measures of Protection in Cases of Contested Jurisdiction, 46 BYIL 259 (1972/73).
23
Dissenting Opinion Judge Shi in the cases Legality of Use of Force (Yugoslavia v.
Belgium [and nine other NATO States]), ICJ Reports 1999, 207; see also the Dissenting
Opinion of Judge Weeramantry and Judge Vereshchetin in the same cases, ICJ Reports
1999, 209.
24
Legality of Use of Force (Yugoslavia v. Belgium), Provisional Measures, Order of 2
June 1999, ICJ Reports 1999, 124, paras. 48–50.
25
Armed Activities on the Territory of the Congo (New Application: 2002), (Demo­
cratic Republic of the Congo v. Rwanda), Provisional Measures, Order of 10 July 2002,
1690 karin oellers-frahm

or transgressed the Court’s jurisdiction because its responsibilities in

the maintenance of peace and security are not general but strictly
limited to the exercise of its judicial functions in cases where it has
jurisdiction.26 These cases opened a fundamental discussion and
division among the judges concerning the role of the Court in cases
involving the use of force. Some judges seemed ready to abandon tra-
ditional requirements such as prima facie jurisdiction for the indica-
tion of provisional measures in this context in order to play an active
part in the maintenance of international peace and security, which
would not only open the way for more (ab)use of interim protection,
but also raise the question of the relationship between the Court and
the Security Council.27 The Court itself has shown increasing pru-
dence in indicating provisional measures merely to prevent the aggra-
vation of the dispute;28 such an order would be adopted by the Court
only in addition to concrete provisional measures, if no concrete meas-
ures are adopted a reminder of the general obligation not to aggravate
a dispute will be found only in the reasons of the decision, not its oper-
ative part.
While the tendency to use the instrument of provisional measures in
cases involving common goods such as peace and security or humani-
tarian law–even at the cost of necessary requirements such as prima
facie jurisdiction–is still controversial before the ICJ, it has been fully
adopted in the context of human rights protection, in particular in the
American context where grave violations of the right to life and per-
sonal integrity are still occurring at large. The instrumentalization of
provisional measures by the Inter-American Court of Human Rights
and its development as a means no longer of “interim” but of “final”
protection thus deserves particular consideration.

ICJ Reports 2002, 219, at para. 55; see Separate Opinions Judge Koroma, ICJ Reports
2002, 252, Judge Dugard, id., at 265 and Judge El-Araby, id., at 260; T. Treves (note 14),
468.
26
Armed Activities on the Territory of the Congo (New Application: 2002), (Demo­
cratic Republic of the Congo v. Rwanda), Provisional Measures, Order of 10 July 2002,
ICJ Reports 2002, 219, at 257, Declaration Judge Buergenthal.
27
C. Gray (note 13), at 888 et seq.
28
Pulp Mills on the River Uruguay (Argentina v. Uruguay), Provisional Measures,
Order of 23 January 2007, ICJ Reports 2007, 3, where the Court in para. 50, at 17,
explicitly refused to indicate provisional measures concerning merely the prevention
of an aggravation of the dispute without at the same time indicating concrete measures
protecting the rights of the parties.
 use and abuse of interim protection1691

C. Interim Protection by Human Rights Courts

In the context of human rights protection provisional measures increas-

ingly serve a different goal from that in traditional international juris-
diction; they are not always primarily aimed at guaranteeing the efficacy
of the judgment of the court by preventing irreparable harm from
being done to the rights of the individual(s) concerned, but at effec-
tively protecting the fundamental rights in a given situation; they are
thus used as (final) measures of protection29 rather than as mere meas-
ures of preservation bridging the time gap until the judgment on the
merits is delivered.

I. The Inter-American Court of Human Rights

The most impressive example in this context is that of the Inter-
American Court of Human Rights (IACtHR) where provisional meas-
ures are issued to a large extent in cases concerning the right to life and
personal integrity.30 Here is not the place to analyse the case law of the
IACtHR;31 what is relevant instead is the use made of interim protec-
tion by that Court. In this context, it is particularly relevant that provi-
sional measures, which by their very definition are of a temporary
nature and end with the delivery of the judgment on the merits, have
been maintained or even extended by the Court after the adoption of
the judgment on the merits in situations where the conditions for their
adoption persisted. This was explained by stating that the measures are
not terminated with the delivery of the judgment or a friendly settle-
ment of the case, but that the Court is the only body competent to
decide on the maintenance or lifting of the measures.32 There are
cases where the provisional measures were maintained for more than

29
A. A. Cancado Trindade, Les mesures provisoires de protection dans la jurispru-
dence de la Cour Interaméricaine des Droits de l’Homme, in: G. Cohen-Jonathan/
J.-F. Flauss (eds.), Mesures conservatoires et droits fondamentaux, 145, at 149 (2005).
30
A. A. Cancado Trindade (note 29), at 154 et seq.; J. M. Pasqualucci, The Inter-
American Human Rights System: Progress Made and Still To Be Made, 52 GYIL 181,
at 203 (2009).
31
Cf. C. Burbana Herrera, Provisional Measures in the Case Law of the Inter-
American Court of Human Rights (2010).
32
IACtHR, Miguel Agustin Pro Juárez Human Rights Center et al. v. Mexico, Order
of 20 April 2004, Explanatory Statements 12 and 13; IACtHR, Liliana Ortega et al. v.
Venezuela, Order of 1 March 2005, Explanatory Statements 13, 16 and 17; all cases to
be found on the homepage of the IACtHR http://www.corteidh.or.cr/.
1692 karin oellers-frahm

thirteen years;33 others where they lasted for five or nine years.34 In
other cases the provisional measures were maintained despite the fact
that a friendly settlement had been reached by the parties35 or a judg-
ment on the merits had been delivered;36 there are even some cases
where provisional measures were adopted for the first time after a judg-
ment on the merits had been handed down.37
These examples demonstrate that provisional measures are not used
as a procedural means remedying the “lenteurs de la justice”, but that
they constitute an additional, independent judicial instrument for the
protection of the human being not–or no longer just–inherent in or
linked to particular judicial proceedings. In cases of grave violations of
fundamental human rights the judgment will usually confirm the “pro-
visional” finding and therefore the question arises what is the addi-
tional value of maintaining the provisional measures in addition to the

33
IACtHR, Colotenango v. Guatemala, first Order of provisional measures of
22 June 1994, lifting of the measures 12 July 2007.
34
IACtHR, Clemente Teherán v. Colombia, first Order on provisional measures
23 March 1998, lifting of the measures 1 December 2003; Mayagna (Sumo) Awas Tingni
Community v. Nicaragua, first Order on provisional measures 6 September 2001, lifting
of the measures 26 November 2007; Gómez Paquiyauri Brothers v. Peru, first Order on
provisional measures 7 May 2004, lifting of the measures 22 January 2009; Gallardo
Rodríguez v. Mexico, first Order on provisional measures 23 January 2002, lifting of the
measures 11 July 2007; Lysias Fleury v. Haiti, first Order on provisional measures 7 June
2003, lifting of the measures 25 November 2008; Blake v. Guatemala, first Order on
provisional measures 16 August 1995, lifting of the measures 14 May 2005; C. Burbana
Herrera (note 31), at 177.
35
IACtHR, Colotenango v. Guatemala, first Order on provisional measures of
22 June 1994; friendly settlement of 13 March 1997, lifting of the measures 12 July
2007; Mendoza Prisons Case v. Argentina, first Order on provisional measures 22
November 2004, settlement of the dispute 28 August 2007, lifting of the measures 10
September 2010; texts on the homepage of the Court (note 32); see also C. Burbano
Herrera (note 31), at 161.
36
See i.e. IACtHR, Caballero Delgado and Santana v. Colombia, first Order on pro-
visional measures 7 December 1994, Judgment of 29 January 1997, lifting of the meas-
ures 3 February 2010; Carpio Nicolle v. Guatemala, first Order on provisional measures
4 June 1995; Judgment of 22 November 2004, lifting of provisional measures 6 July
2009; there are, according to C. Burbano Herrera (note 31), 15 cases in all where the
provisional measures were maintained after the delivery of the judgment, at 171, foot-
note 620.
37
IACtHR, The 19 Tradesmen v. Colombia, Judgment of 5 July 2004, first order on
provisional measures 3 September 2004, lifting of provisional measures 8 July 2009;
Mayagna (Sumo) Awas Tingni Community v. Nicaragua, Judgment of 31 August 2001,
lifting of provisional measures 26 November 2007; Mairipán v. Colombia Judgment of
7 March 2005, first order on provisional measures 27 June 2005, lifting of provisional
measures 2 September 2010; Integrantes del Equipo de Estudios Comunitarios y Acción
Psicosocial (ECAP) v. Guatemala, Judgment of 19 November 2005, first order on provi-
sional measures 20 October 2006, lifting of provisional measures 8 July 2009.
 use and abuse of interim protection1693

final judgment. The reason may be found in the fact that the adoption
of provisional measures in the field of human rights also serves consid-
erations of the ordre public international38 as realized by the protection
of the human being. In this sense, a case concerning one or more par-
ticular individuals represents a “situation” of grave human rights viola-
tions and it is not, or not just, the prevention of irreparable damage to
the individual(s) involved in the case but the situation as such which is
considered by the Court and becomes a “case” independent of the orig-
inal one. It has been argued that the essential requirement for lifting or
ending provisional measures is that the situation of extreme gravity
and urgency has ceased39 and that nothing in the Convention obliges
the Court to lift the measures, in particular as the Court’s jurisdiction
to oversee the state’s compliance with the obligations contained in
the judgment continues.40 But with regard to issues concerning non-
compliance with the judgment the Court has only limited powers,
namely to make “pertinent recommendations” to the General Assembly
of the Organization (Article 65 of the American Convention on Human
Rights). Only where there has been an early termination of the pro-
ceedings as discontinuance or a friendly settlement may the Court
decide to continue the “consideration” of a case “bearing in mind its
responsibility to protect human rights”.41 However, it seems more than
questionable whether this implies the power to adopt provisional
measures, for even the reference to the adoption of provisional meas-
ures “in matters [the Court] has under consideration” in Article 63
paragraph 2, of the Convention is linked to a case already pending or
not yet submitted to the Court. Although there may be good reason to
accept a broad understanding of interim protection in the context of
grave human rights violations, and although at least in cases of discon-
tinuance or friendly settlement the texts may even be understood as
supporting such understanding, there remains some concern. The
maintenance of interim measures of protection beyond the final judg-
ment, the broadening of the measures by extending them to people
other than those concerned in the original order, and in particular the
adoption of interim measures even after the judgment on the merits

38
A. A. Cancado Trindade (note 29), at 153.
39
T. Buergenthal, The Inter-American Court of Human Rights, 76 AJIL 231, at 241
(1982); C. Burbana Herrera (note 31), at 174.
40
C. Burbana Herrera (note 31), at 174.
41
Article 54 of the Rules of Court.
1694 karin oellers-frahm

has been delivered42 not only affect the significance of the judgment but
make it more or less superfluous by giving the same or even more
weight to a decision reached in summary proceedings than to a judg-
ment delivered on the basis of proceedings respecting all the guaran-
tees of a fair trial. In these cases, the application as such seems only to
be the “triggering vehicle” to open the way to the Court, which then
acts as an organ empowered to safeguard human rights at large, a power
which is not conferred upon it. All statutory provisions empowering a
court or tribunal to issue provisional measures, including Article 63,
paragraph 2, of the American Convention on Human Rights, conceive
provisional measures as a means of bridging the time until the delivery
of the judgment; for the IACtHR this results from the wording that the
Court may adopt provisional measures “in matters it has under consid-
eration”, but always only in the context of a “case”.43 However, the fact
that all relevant cases concerned situations of grave breaches of human
rights and that a better solution, namely the power of the political
organs of the Organization of American States (OAS) or the Court to
consider such situations proprio motu, is lacking raises the question
whether the “improper” or, more positively, “expanding” or “extensive”
use of provisional measures could not be justified by the motto “the
end justifies the means”. The answer to this question will differ accord-
ing to the role the Court is considered to play; but even if this practice
is supported because it offers one more instrument in the battle against
grave human rights violations, it has to be kept in mind that in legal
terms a development from “interim” protection connected to a specific
case to “general” protection reaching far beyond the case should be
initiated by the Contracting Parties by empowering the Court or other
bodies of the Organization accordingly.

II. The European Court of Human Rights

While in the American context provisional measures have become a
sort of independent instrument of human rights protection, the situa-
tion is quite different in the European context. Before the ECHR
requests for provisional measures are also increasing; their subject-
matter is mostly concerned with questions of expulsion or extradition
to states where human rights violations for the individual concerned

42
Supra (note 37); see also C. Burbana Herrera (note 31), at 171.
43
Supra text following note 41.
 use and abuse of interim protection1695

are likely to happen immediately after their return to their country.44

In contrast to the position in the IACtHR most cases in which interim
measures have been indicated come to an end during the admissibil-
ity stage because the respondent and recipient states give guaran-
tees with regard to the person who is the subject of an expulsion or
extradition. In cases where the Court considers such guarantees as
being sufficient45 or where the domestic authorities have withdrawn
or annulled the implementation of their decision,46 usually a friendly
settlement has been reached leading to the striking of the applica-
tion off the list.47 In these cases, the adoption of interim measures of
protection is a rather clear indication to the respondent state that it
will be found to be in breach of human rights, a situation which can
be avoided by arrival at an amiable settlement. Such development
clearly does not constitute an abuse of interim protection but wise
behaviour by the state concerned and a contribution to procedural
economics.

D. The New Dimension of Provisional Measures in the

International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea

While in the human rights context the use of provisional measures as a

means to protect human rights in general, and not just those relating to
the parties in the case at stake, lacks a treaty base, the 1982 UN
Convention on the Law of the Sea explicitly extends the objective of
interim protection to a common value, namely the marine environ-
ment. According to Article 290, paragraph 1, provisional measures
may not only be ordered for the preservation of the respective rights of
the parties, but also for the prevention of “serious harm to the marine
environment”, empowering the court or tribunal to act in the interest of
common values of the community of states.48 A similar provision has
been adopted for the prevention of serious damage to particular fish

44
Y. Haeck/C. Burbano Herrera, Interim Measures in the Case Law of the European
Court of Human Rights, 21 Netherlands Quarterly of Human Rights 625–675
(2003).
45
Id., at 656.
46
Id.
47
M. de Salvia (note 10), at 182 et seq.
48
R. Wolfrum, Provisional Measures of the International Tribunal for the Law of the
Sea, in: P. Chandrasekhara Rao/R. Khan (eds.), The International Tribunal for the Law
of the Sea, 173–186, at 176 (2001).
1696 karin oellers-frahm

stocks.49 Moreover, it is not even a requirement that a direct relation-

ship exist between the rights of the parties which are the subject-matter
of the case and the protection of those values.50 While such a develop-
ment of international dispute settlement from merely state-related pro-
tection to the protection of common values clearly marks progress, it
suffers from the shortcoming that this new objective is not reflected in
the provisions concerning who may initiate the proceedings for the
adoption of such provisional measures: in fact, the protection of the
environment or fish stocks is linked to a case brought to the Tribunal or
a court, thus depending on state action, whereas the prescription of
provisional measures proprio motu by an international court or tribu-
nal “would have been a matter of consequence”.51
However, what is more relevant in the overall context of use or abuse
of provisional measures is the concrete realization of this power. In
fact, the orders for interim protection of the environment or fish stocks
issued by the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea (ITLOS) are
of particular relevance not only because they represent a new feature of
interim protection, but also with regard to the kind of measures
adopted by the Tribunal. Although there have as yet been only four
cases52 where provisional measures for the protection of the marine
environment or fish stocks have been issued, a certain trend as regards
the contents of such measures has already revealed itself, marking an
important difference from “usual” provisional measures. While the lat-
ter contain a rather clear order with regard to a concrete measure to be
taken or omitted by one or both of the parties for the protection of
substantive rights, such as not executing a person sentenced to the

49
Article 31 of the Convention on the Conservation and Management of Straddling
Fish Stocks and Highly Migratory Fish Stocks of 8 September 1995, 34 ILM 1547
(1995).
50
P. Gautier, Mesures conservatoires, préjudice irréparable et protection de
l’environnement, in: R. Badinter et al. (eds.), Le procès international, Liber Amicorum
Jean-Pierre Cot, 131–154, at 137 (2009); R. Wolfrum (note 48), at 176.
51
R. Wolfrum, Interim (Provisional) Measures of Protection, in: R. Wolfrum (ed.),
The Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law, Oxford University Press
(2008), online edition http://www.mpepil.com (emphasis added).
52
The Bluefin Tuna cases initiated separately by Australia and New Zealand against
Japan were joined by the Tribunal, Order on provisional measures of 27 August 1999,
ITLOS Reports 1999, 280–336; ITLOS, The MOX Plant Case (Ireland v. United
Kingdom), Order of 3 December 2001, ITLOS Reports 2001, 89–112; ITLOS, Case
Concerning Land Reclamation by Singapore in and around the Straits of Johor (Malaysia
v. Singapore), Order of 8 October 2003, ITLOS Reports 2003, 10–64; all texts also on
the homepage of ITLOS: http://www.itlos.org/start2_en.html.
 use and abuse of interim protection1697

death penalty or removing armed forces from a certain region, provi-

sional measures for the conservation of fish stocks or the environment
issued hitherto have rather protected general procedural obligations
such as cooperation and consultation,53 raising the question whether
the protection of procedural rights may have the necessary urgent
character or whether their violation may cause irreparable or at least
serious harm justifying interim protection.

I. The Relevant Cases

The Bluefin Tuna Case was the first one concerning interim protection
not only of the rights of the parties but also of a common good, namely
the conservation of fish stocks. The relevant measures issued by the
Tribunal were of a rather general nature, merely reiterating the existing
obligations of the parties, in particular to take no action which might
aggravate or extend the dispute or which might prejudice the carrying
out of any decision on the merits. The most substantial measure ordered
was the one concerning the obligation to ensure, unless the parties
agreed otherwise, that their annual catches did not exceed the annual
national allocations at the levels last agreed by them. Additionally, the
Tribunal decided that the parties were to resume negotiations without
delay with a view to reaching agreement on measures for the conserva-
tion and management of southern bluefin tuna and to report on such
measures. Although usually parties go to court because they are not
able to settle a dispute by negotiation, the provisional order to resume
negotiations was successful in that it led to the resumption of the
proper functioning of the Southern Bluefin Tuna Commission.
In the two cases involving interim protection of the environment the
Tribunal adopted similar measures. In the MOX Plant Case the Tribunal
found that in the circumstances of the case the prescription of provi-
sional measures was not required for lack of urgency, but neverthe-
less it laid down some provisional measures that none of the parties
had requested, concerning the duty to co-operate as a fundamental

53
In the present context it is irrelevant that in all these cases the competent tribunal
was an Annex VII arbitral tribunal still to be created and the Tribunal for the Law of
the Sea consequently acted on the basis of Article 290 paragraph 5 of the Convention.
In such a situation the question of urgency is governed by the fact that the order on
interim protection would not necessarily be in force until the decision on the merits,
but could be reviewed immediately after the creation of the arbitral tribunal. Cf. in this
context T. A. Mensah, Provisional Measures in the International Tribunal for the Law
of the Sea (ITLOS), 62 ZaöRV 43, at 45 et seq. (2002).
1698 karin oellers-frahm

principle of the prevention of pollution of the marine environment

under Part XII of the Convention.54 In the Land Reclamation Case the
Tribunal prescribed measures different in whole or in part from those
requested. In particular it did not grant Malaysia’s request that
Singapore should suspend the current land reclamation activities, but
merely ordered that such activities be not conducted in ways which
might cause irreparable prejudice to the rights of Malaysia or serious
harm to the marine environment. The further measures related pri-
marily to cooperation and consultation by the establishment and work
of a group of independent experts to determine within a period of one
year the effect of Singapore’s land reclamation and to propose appro-
priate measures to deal with any adverse effects. In this case, Malaysia
and Singapore successfully resumed negotiations and even reached an
agreement which settled the dispute by diplomatic means.

II. The Nature of Interim Protection in the Relevant Cases

These cases are relevant in the context of the use or abuse of interim
protection because it may be asked whether we are still concerned with
interim protection. As the Tribunal refrained in these cases, particu-
larly clearly in the Land Reclamation Case, from ordering the substan-
tial and explicitly requested measures, but merely adopted measures,
also requested, concerning procedural rights, it gave a new dimension
to interim protection. Interim protection had up to that point depended
on the urgency of action and imminent irreparable damage to an iden-
tifiable right.55 Whether non-compliance with procedural obligations
meets these requirements is at least doubtful. In the Pulp Mills case, for
example, the ICJ did not consider that the violation of the procedural

54
Cf. M. C. J. Forster, The MOX Plant case–Provisional Measures in the International
Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, 16 Leiden Journal of International Law 611–619, at 618
(2003); cf. also J. Barboza, Provisional Measures, or the Dangers of Being Too
Exceptional, in: T. M. Ndiaye/R. Wolfrum (eds.), Law of the Sea, Environmental Law
and Settlement of Disputes, 143–157, at 148 et seq. (2007); T. A. Mensah (note 53), at
52–53. This case was finally decided by the European Court of Justice which found in
its Judgment of 30 May 2006 that it had exclusive jurisdiction in cases concerning the
application and interpretation of the Law of the Sea Convention which is part of the
legal order of the European Union; ECJ, Case C-459/03, Commission of the European
Union v. Ireland, 2006 ECR I-04635.
55
This is particularly provided for in Article 89, para. 4 of the Rules of the ITLOS
with regard to cases in which ITLOS has no jurisdiction to decide on the merits,
as was the case in all disputes concerning environmental questions. Cf. also R. Wolfrum
(note 48), at 182 and T. A. Mensah (note 53), at 45.
 use and abuse of interim protection1699

rights provided for in the 1975 Statute of the River Uruguay would be
irreparable.56 But the requirement of urgency, which is closely linked to
that of irreparable or–with regard to the environment in Article 290
Law of the Sea Convention–“serious” harm, also seems no longer to
play the same role as before. In the MOX Plant Case the request for
provisional measures was dismissed because there was no urgency;
however, the Tribunal issued measures concerning cooperation; and in
the Land Reclamation Case the time-frames included in the order raise
serious doubts whether interim protection was urgent.57 It may and has
been argued58 that, particularly in the context of an environmental dis-
pute, the protection of procedural rights is justified. The reasons given
relate on the one hand to the fact that obligations of cooperation and
information allow the parties to have at their disposal the necessary
elements for proving their case; on the other hand disputes concern-
ing environmental questions often have their origin in a lack of
cooperation.
Ordering the parties to comply with these obligations may bring
them together and lead to an agreement on the disputed question.
These reasons are of course pertinent; however, it remains doubtful
whether they justify the adoption of provisional measures or whether
the measures adopted are in line with the object and purpose of interim
protection as an exceptional instrument in international jurisdiction
aimed at protecting the efficacy of the final judgment.59 The use of
interim protection in these cases constitutes a means of “gestion du dif-
férend”60 rather than a means of urgently protecting the rights at stake
on the merits. The court or tribunal acts more like a mediator than a
judicial body, merely reminding the parties to honour their obliga-
tions, which obligations are self-evident and in particular not of an

56
Pulp Mills on the River Uruguay (Argentina v. Uruguay), Provisional Measures,
ICJ Reports 2006, 113, para. 70.
57
Cf. Declaration of Judge Anderson and Separate Opinion of Judge Chandrasekhara
Rao (paras. 35 et seq.) in the Case Concerning Land Reclamation by Singapore in and
around the Straits of Johor (Malaysia v. Singapore), Order of 8 October 2003, ITLOS
Reports 2003, 10–64.
58
P. Gautier (note 50), at 153.
59
Declaration of Judge Anderson, ITLOS, Case Concerning Land Reclamation by
Singapore in and around the Straits of Johor (Malaysia v. Singapore), Order of 8 October
2003, ITLOS Reports 2003, 10–64, para.2.
60
T. Treves, Les Mesures conservatoires au Tribunal du Droit de la Mer et à la Cour
Internationale de Justice: contribution au Dialogue entre Cours et Tribunaux
Internationaux, in: R. Badinter et al. (eds.), Le Procès International, Liber Amicorum
Jean-Pierre Cot, 341–348, at 347 (2009).
1700 karin oellers-frahm

interim or provisional character which, in order to become definitive,

need to be confirmed by the judgment. This makes the measures issued
in these cases comparable in their implications to an interim judg-
ment61 although lacking the res judicata effect. In cases concerning
environmental questions before the ICJ, e.g. in the Gabcikovo-
Nagymaros case62 and the Kasikili/Sedudu Island case,63 measures of
this kind were part of the reasoning in the judgment and in the Pulp
Mills case interim protection was explicitly denied for lack of irrepara-
ble harm.64

E. “De facto Substitution” of the Decision on the Merits by

the Decision on Interim Protection?

The characterization of interim measures prescribing cooperation and

consultation as similar to interim judgments, although lacking the
effect of res judicata,65 supports Rüdiger Wolfrum’s view that de facto
provisional measures may substitute for the decision on the merits. The
same can be said of provisional measures adopted by the IACtHR,
which have become a means of human rights protection independent
of the case in which they were requested. The use of interim measures
for the protection of common goods, such as human rights and the
environment, is certainly due to the fact that interim measures are
issued in a summary and thus quick procedure not requiring a detailed
assessment of the facts and the law, which is clearly welcome in such
sensitive fields of international law. Moreover, the fact that, at least in
the context of the protection of the environment, the measures ordered
had the desired success–leading even in one case to an amicable settle-
ment of the dispute–may be considered justification. Nevertheless, the
idea of a “substitution” of the final judgment by provisional measures
raises concern which relates in particular to the procedural advantages
that interim protection implies. The measures are of a provisional
nature just because a detailed examination of questions of jurisdiction
and merits does not take place; the decision is taken on the basis of a

61
S. Rosenne (note 4), at 218.
62
Gabcikovo-Nagymaros Project (Hungary/Slovakia), Provisional Measures, ICJ
Reports 1997, 7, para. 155, point 2. B. and C.
63
Kasikili/Sedudu Island (Botswana/Namibia), ICJ Reports 1999, 1045, para. 103,
1108.
64
Supra notes 28 and 56.
65
S. Rosenne (note 4), at 218.
 use and abuse of interim protection1701

procedure which disregards to a certain extent the guarantees of a fair

procedure, which can be justified only by the urgent need to avoid
irreparable or serious harm. These aspects remain valid even where
interim protection is no longer restricted to preserving the interests
and rights of the parties involved in a case but also serves to protect the
interests and values of the community of states. Interim measures of
protection cannot prejudge or anticipate the judgment on the merits.
Unlike national law where provisional measures of an anticipatory
nature are common, this is not the case in international law unless the
international court or tribunal is empowered accordingly.66 This does
not mean that the order on provisional measures cannot be identical to
the judgment on the merits,67 but that situation does not amount to
according provisional measures an anticipatory nature, because the
provisional measures are only temporary and their confirmation or
revision takes place in full proceedings respecting all the procedural
rights of the parties.

F. Concluding Remarks

It has been demonstrated above that provisional measures not only

have developed beyond their original purpose, be it on the basis of
an explicit empowerment as in the context of the law of the sea or
without such basis as in the context of Inter-American human rights
protection, but are also used for reasons of gaining public attention
even where a jurisdictional basis for deciding the case on the merits is
lacking, as e.g. in cases involving the use of force. While in such cases
not only the request for provisional measures but also the Application
which is a precondition for such request can be characterized as an
abuse, the cases where common values are protected may justify a
different result, in particular as this seems to be broadly accepted.
As the peaceful settlement of the dispute is the overall aim and as

66
R. Wolfrum (note 48), at 183.
67
Cf. K. Oellers-Frahm, Article 41, MN 23/24, in: A. Zimmermann/C. Tomuschat/
K. Oellers-Frahm (eds.), The Statute of the International Court of Justice, A
Commentary (2006). In the Nuclear Tests cases, the Tehran Hostages case, the Bosnian
Genocide case and the Breard, LaGrand and Avena cases the requested provisional
measures coincided totally or in part with the main claim. Although thus de facto the
decision on a request for provisional measures may be identical to that on the merits,
it does not “substitute” it because the Court is in no way bound by its findings on pro-
visional measures.
1702 karin oellers-frahm

i­nternational courts and tribunals are only a last resort alternative to

dispute settlement by the parties concerned, it may be argued that such
conduct of the court or tribunal is justified because it facilitates such
direct and friendly settlement.68 However, the power to stimulate an
agreed settlement of the dispute exists only to the extent that it is com-
patible with the statute of the judicial body.69 Under this caveat the
practice of the IACtHR cannot be considered as compatible with its
Statute, which empowers it only to issue provisional measures to pre-
serve rights at stake on the merits, which implies not only a limitation
concerning the individuals protected but also includes the termination
of the measures when the judgment is delivered. The situation is simi-
lar for the ITLOS. Although there is an explicit empowerment to issue
provisional measures for the protection of the environment and
although this can be done when merely “serious” and not “irreparable”
harm has to be prevented, the usual requirements such as particular
urgency have been maintained in the underlying provision.70 And even
though urgency is a concept giving wide discretion to the court or tri-
bunal concerned, the prescription of provisional measures in cases
where the court finds explicitly that urgency is lacking cannot be quali-
fied as a proper use of interim protection. The fact that the objective of
provisional measures has been extended also to include the protection
of community values and procedural rights does not have the conse-
quence that the character and prerequisites of the instrument have
changed: as long as the provisions empowering the IACtHR and ITLOS
to issue provisional measures are not adapted to the new objective, the
issue of provisional measures by these bodies still requires the exist-
ence of the relevant prerequisites, namely prima facie jurisdiction,
urgency and irreparable or at least serious damage; they also keep their
provisional character, namely that they terminate with the delivery of
the judgment. Thus the character of provisional measures has not
changed; it remains to ensure that the final judgment is in a position to
settle the dispute effectively and that such a judgment can be imple-
mented fully.71 In this perspective the use of provisional measures made
by the IACtHR and by ITLOS in the context of the protection of the

68
S. Rosenne (note 4), at 157–158; L.D.M. Nelson, The Jurisprudence of the
International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea: Some Observations, in T. M. Ndiaye/
R. Wolfrum (note 54), 967, at 981–982.
69
S. Rosenne (note 4), at 221.
70
T. A. Mensah (note 53), at 44.
71
R. Wolfrum (note 48), at 177.
 use and abuse of interim protection1703

environment does not constitute a proper use of interim protection.

This is confirmed by the fact that the protection of such values as
human rights and the environment is not generally entrusted to the
relevant judicial body, but can only be triggered by finding an Applicant
to bring a case, which makes the protection of these in fact fundamen-
tal rights an arbitrary and accidental affair. Although it may be better to
have inadequate or improper means for the protection of these com-
mon values than none, the fact remains that the interim protection
procedure is not the appropriate means because by its very nature it
does not lend itself to adequately protecting the vulnerable and sensi-
tive common values which need protection not in a biased way, but by
a particular and effective procedure to be agreed upon explicitly. In this
perspective it is to be hoped that the improper use of interim protec-
tion will be only as “provisional” as the measures prescribed should be
and will be replaced as soon as possible by the adequate empowerment
of the relevant political or judicial organs in order to protect the funda-
mental values of the international community in an unbiased manner.
 The International Proliferation of Criminal
Jurisdictions Revisited: Uniting or Fragmenting
International Law?

Fausto Pocar*

A. Introduction

We undoubtedly live in a period of huge growth and transformation in

the landscape of international law. This is largely due to the globaliza-
tion of international life as well as to the phenomenal developments in
several legal fields. Admittedly, a special role is played in this context by
the unprecedented advancements in international criminal law and the
striving for accountability of individuals before the international com-
munity as a whole. While international criminal law is witnessing
manifest progresses, the “proliferation” of international criminal judi-
cial institutions, or of domestic criminal institutions with international
participation, has brought to the fore the issue of unity or fragmenta-
tion of international criminal law, and more generally of international
law as such.1 Even assuming the essential unity of international law and
a general aspiration towards consistency in findings, the relationships
between these various tribunals–as well as between them and other
international judicial bodies adjudicating on disputes under interna-
tional law–are proving to be complex, yet fascinating. These brief
remarks, meant to pay tribute to Professor Rüdiger Wolfrum, a distin-
guished international scholar and leader of one such international
judicial body, the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, will
discuss some of the challenges arising from the proliferation of interna-
tional jurisdictions and the call for their harmonization.
The phenomenon of multiple international jurisdictions is not
entirely new, even within the field of international criminal law, but it
is undeniable that it has acquired a complexity which could not have

* I would like to thank Nicole C. Rangel for her valuable research and drafting
contributions.
1
F. Pocar, The Proliferation of International Criminal Courts and Tribunals,
2 Journal of International Criminal Justice 304 (2004).
1706 fausto pocar

been foreseen even as recently as two decades ago. During these past
decades the international community has shown an increasing interest
in combating impunity for war crimes, genocide and crimes against
humanity, i.e. the core crimes under international criminal law, which
resulted in the establishment of a number of judicial bodies having dif-
ferent denominations–court, tribunal, chamber, panel–and comprised
of judges who receive their mandate either from the United Nations or
from States Parties to an international treaty, with or without the direct
participation of the United Nations. This article will address some of
the issues arising from this proliferation of international criminal law
jurisdictions, such as the characterization of these jurisdictions and
their possible overlapping competences and conflicts of law.

B. The International Development and Characterization

of Criminal Jurisdictions

This proliferation of jurisdictions is clearly rooted in the precedent set

by the Nuremberg and Tokyo Tribunals, which were established by the
Allied Powers in the aftermath of World War II, and were tasked to deal
with the same core international crimes which constitute the basis of
the current jurisdictions.2 On one hand these tribunals could be seen as
unique international reactions to major atrocities which shocked the
conscience of the international community and resulted in the admin-
istration of criminal justice by a group of states on the territory and

2
The London Charter of the International Military Tribunal established three cat-
egories of crimes prosecutable at Nuremberg: 1) war crimes 2) crimes against the peace
or crimes of aggression and 3) crimes against humanity. The first and third categories
remain crimes in all the international or mixed tribunals discussed herein. However,
the crime of aggression exists only at the ICC and has yet to be applied. The crime of
aggression was finally defined at the Review Conference in Kampala in June 2010, but
this amendment to the Rome Statute has yet to take effect and it remains to be seen
how this definition will be interpreted and applied. Nonetheless, the other two catego-
ries of international crimes remain the cornerstone of international criminal law.
At Nuremberg, the crime of genocide was included in crimes against humanity, but
since the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide,
which entered into force in 1951, genocide has become the third core crime on which
the international criminal tribunals focus their jurisdiction. Today, war crimes, crimes
against humanity and genocide are considered the three principal offences at the ICTY
and ICTR. See RC Res. 6 of 28 June 2010; Agreement for the Prosecution and
Punishment of the Major War Criminals of the European Axis, and Charter of the
International Military Tribunal, 8 August 1945, 82 UNTS 279; Convention on the
Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide, 9 December 1948, 78 UNTS
277; Statute of the ICTY; Statute of the ICTR.
 international proliferation of criminal jurisdictions1707

against nationals of countries where the atrocities occurred. On the

other hand, and notwithstanding their denominations, they may not
be properly characterized as “international” because of their establish-
ment by a group of states as occupying powers on the territory of occu-
pied states. This phenomenon cannot be described as new under
international law, as it is generally recognized that a state occupying a
territory has authority to exercise criminal jurisdiction there, under
the law of occupation.3
By contrast, the establishment of the International Criminal Tribunal
for the former Yugoslavia (“ICTY”) in 1993 and the subsequent crea-
tion of the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (“ICTR”) in
1994 reflect a new approach which relies upon the initiative of the
international community, as represented by the Security Council of the
United Nations.4 This new approach fostered the further proliferation
of criminal courts and tribunals under international auspices in the
past two decades. There is no doubt that the creation of these two ad
hoc tribunals further demonstrated the need for a permanent criminal
jurisdiction, and accelerated the adoption of the Statute of the
International Criminal Court (“Rome Statute” and “ICC” respectively)
in 1998.5 But even as the ICC is currently seized of five situations and
engaged in ten cases relating to these situations, it is clear that the
adoption of the Rome Statute and the operations of the ICC have not
limited the proliferation of other international criminal jurisdictions
and judicial bodies.6 The international community and the UN in par-
ticular have since supported the institution of many judicial bodies, as
is illustrated by the establishment of Mixed Panels by the United
Nations administration in Kosovo (2000); the Special Court for Sierra
Leone (“SCSL”, 2000); the Special Panels for Serious Crimes for East
Timor (2000); the Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia

3
 See The Geneva Conventions, 12 August 1949. For example, Geneva Convention
IV Relative to the Protection of Civilian Persons in Time of War, Article 67, Article 70,
para. 1.
4
 See SC Res. 827 of 25 May 1993 (which established the ICTY); SC Res. 955 of
8 November 1994 (which established the ICTR).
5
 See Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, 17 July 1998, 2187 UNTS
90.
6
The ICC has opened investigations into the situations in The Democratic Republic
of the Congo, The Central African Republic, Uganda, Darfur and Sudan and is seized
of the situation in Kenya. Furthermore, the ICC has opened ten cases relating to the
five areas of investigation. See the ICC’s website, Situations and Cases link, available at
http://www.icc-cpi.int.
1708 fausto pocar

(“ECCC”, 2003); and the Special Tribunal for Lebanon (“STL”, 2007),
which is the last one of the series and has not yet issued a single indict-
ment.7 This phenomenon may well continue irrespective of the ICC
having come into operation for a variety of reasons, one of which is the
need to bring a perpetrator to justice for having committed crimes
before the entry into force of the Rome Statute.
Moreover, it is worth mentioning that other international judicial
bodies may be called upon to rule on matters relating to the commis-
sion of crimes under international law and, in particular, the conduct
of hostilities and the respect for fundamental human rights during
armed conflicts and occupation, or in peacetime. These alternative
international jurisdictions may affect the operations and rulings of the
various international criminal jurisdictions. For example, the
International Court of Justice (“ICJ”) issued an Advisory Opinion on
the legality of the construction of the Wall in Palestine, which may
affect the future imposition of individual criminal responsibility for
violations of international humanitarian and human rights law in the
region.8 Furthermore, the ICJ’s recent ruling on the existence of geno-
cide in the region of the former Yugoslavia complements the findings
of the ICTY and the enforcement of international criminal law in the
region.9
In addition to the ICJ, many regional judicial bodies such as the
African, the American and the European courts of human rights
have bolstered the implementation and enforcement of international
norms.10 Although this paper mainly focuses on international criminal
tribunals, and although the above-mentioned courts assess State
responsibility under international law and not the conduct of indi­
vidual perpetrators for the purpose of establishing personal criminal

    7
 See Kosovo UNMIK 2000; SCSL, SC Res. 1315 of 14 August 2000; The Panels with
Exclusive Jurisdiction over Serious Criminal Offences in East Timor, UNTAET
Reg. No. 2000/15, 6 June 2000; ECCC, Agreement between the United Nations and the
Royal Government of Cambodia Concerning the Prosecution Under Cambodian Law
of Crimes Committed During the Period of Democratic Kampuchea, 6 June 2003; STL,
SC Res. 1757 of 30 May 2007.
    8
Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian
Territory, Advisory Opinion, ICJ Reports 2004, 136.
    9
Case Concerning the Application of the Convention on the Prevention and
Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (Bosnia and Herzegovina v. Serbia and
Montenegro), Judgment of 26 February 2007, ICJ General List No. 91.
10
The African Court of Justice as an organ of the African Union; the Inter-American
Court of Human Rights as an organ of the Organization of American States; the
European Court of Human Rights as an organ of the Council of Europe.
 international proliferation of criminal jurisdictions1709

liability, the broader interactions among all of these judicial bodies

should not be underestimated.

I. Purely International Judicial Regimes

Despite their characterization as international or mixed judicial bod-
ies, these jurisdictions are all intended to deter future violations of
international law and ensure the end of impunity for individual leaders
and participants. However, their characterization does present differ-
ent issues with respect to applicable law and enforcement and cannot
be regarded as uniform from the legal point of view. The purely inter-
national tribunals, the ICTY and ICTR, were established by the Security
Council pursuant to Chapter VII of the UN Charter and are composed
of purely international judges elected by the General Assembly from
recommendations of the Security Council, as well as an independent
prosecutor who is appointed by the Security Council on nomination by
the UN Secretary-General.11 As these ad hoc tribunals are purely inter-
national, they apply only international law, primarily customary law,
and operate under international standards of fair trial. Furthermore,
they adjudicate on cases in the name of the entire international
community.12
Additionally, the ICC is purely international in nature as it was cre-
ated by a multilateral treaty, is voluntarily ratified by independent states
and currently has just over 110 States Parties.13 An Assembly of the
States Parties elects the judges as well as the independent prosecutor.
However, as previously mentioned, the ICC was established pursuant
to the Rome Statute and thus implements mutually agreed upon treaty
law. Customary international law may complement or form the basis of
the Rome Statute, yet the ICC is not bound by international customary
law and instead interprets and applies primarily its own Statute. Under

11
 See supra note 4.
12
The questions of whom the international community includes, to what extent
international tribunals’ jurisdiction is a result of exercising public authority and in
whose name international courts decide cases are an area robust for debate and schol-
arship. See A. v. Bogdandy/I. Venzke, Zur Herrschaft internationaler Gerichte: Eine
Untersuchung internationaler öffentlicher Gewalt und ihrer demokratischen
Rechtfertigung, 70 Zeitschrift für ausländisches öffentliches Recht und Völkerrecht
(Heidelberg Journal of International Law) at 1 (2010). I would like to add that the ques-
tions of whom the international jurisdictions are held accountable to and for whom
they dispense justice are further crucial and dynamic aspects of this debate.
13
In addition to the States Parties there remain about 30 nations which have signed
the Rome Statute but have yet to ratify it, including the United States and Russia.
1710 fausto pocar

Article 21 of the Rome Statute, the court shall first apply the statute and
rules of the ICC and then “in the second place, where appropriate,
applicable treaties and the principles and rules of international law,
including the established principles of the international law of armed
conflict”.14 While this phrase is taken to encompass inter alia, custom-
ary international law, Article 21 certainly accords the judges some dis-
cretion in this regard.15 In any event, like the ad hoc tribunals, the ICC
is an international institution in all respects, both in its establishment
procedures and its jurisdiction.

II. Mixed Judicial Regimes

The features of the judicial bodies characterized as mixed are quite dis-
tinct from those of the ad hoc tribunals and the ICC. With the possible
exception of the Special Court for Sierra Leone, for the reasons explored
below, the mixed judiciaries should not be regarded as purely interna-
tional or national institutions and are thus commonly referred to as
“hybrid” or “mixed”.
The international characterization of the ad hoc tribunals and the
ICC, however, is in contrast to some of the other previously mentioned
judicial bodies. The Special Panels of Kosovo and East Timor as well as
the ECCC and STL are mixed judiciaries as they function within the
domestic legal system but cooperate with and are regulated by interna-
tional entities. In accordance with Regulation 64/2000, which insti-
tuted the Special Panel of the UN administration in Kosovo, these
panels form part of the local judiciary.16 However, in further accord-
ance with these regulations and in an attempt to ensure the impartial
and independent implementation of justice, these panels are com-
prised of both Kosovar and internationally appointed judges, the lat-
ter being in the majority. The same composition exists at the Special
Panels for East Timor, which are incorporated into the East Timorese
judiciary and are comprised of both national judges and a majority of

14
 See supra note 5, Article 21(b).
15
 See W. A. Schabas, An Introduction to the International Criminal Court, at 196
(3rd ed. 2007); O. Triffterer (ed.), Commentary on the Rome Statute, at 441–442
(1999); F. Pocar, Interacción de las Fuentes del Derecho Penal Internacional: De la
Teoría a la Practicá, Cursos de Derecho Internacional y Relaciones Internacionales de
Vitoria-Gasteiz, at 194–199 (2009).
16
 UNMIK Reg. 2000/64 of 15 December 2000.
 international proliferation of criminal jurisdictions1711

internationally appointed judges, following a practice commenced by

the UN transitional administration in 2001.17 A similar arrangement is
envisaged for the Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia,
which have a mandate to prosecute the crimes committed by the
Khmer Rouge regime during the period of Democratic Kampuchea
rule from 1975–1979.18 Like the Special Panels, the ECCC consist of a
combination of national and interna­tionally appointed judges, but
unlike in those panels the national judges form the majority.19 These
Chambers expressly form part of the national judiciary with the pur-
pose of prosecuting crimes under Cambodian criminal law as well as
international customary and treaty humanitarian law.20 Thus, the
ECCC are a mixed judicial body and encompass both national and
international law within their domestic jurisdiction.
Similarly, the Special Tribunal for Lebanon is a mixed judicial body,
based on a Security Council Resolution, but it applies only Lebanese
substantive law. Like the Special Panels and the ECCC, the STL has a
combination of national and internationally appointed judges and an
independent, internationally appointed prosecutor. However, unlike
these previously mentioned courts, the STL does not apply substantive
international law; it only prosecutes crimes in accordance with the
Lebanese Criminal Code relating to crimes of terrorism, yet it con-
forms to international standards of fair trial and due process.21 Thus far,
the temporal jurisdiction of the STL is much more limited as it was
created in response to the attack on the Prime Minister of 14 February
2005, and although it is possible to expand this mandate, this has not
yet been done. Therefore, like the other mixed courts, the STL is incor-
porated into the domestic judicial system; however, it remains unique
because, while it is a domestic court, it sits in The Hague, Netherlands
and not in Lebanon itself. It is also worth noting that the STL is the first
of the hybrid tribunals to incorporate the defence into the structure of

17
 UNTAET Reg. No. 2000/15 of 6 June 2000.
18
 Agreement between the United Nations and the Royal Government of Cambodia
Concerning the Prosecution under Cambodian Law of Crimes Committed During the
Period of Democratic Kampuchea, 6 June 2003.
19
Id., at Article 3, para. 2 a-b.
20
Id., at Article 1.
21
 See the Annual Report for the Special Tribunal for Lebanon from 2009–2010.
1712 fausto pocar

the tribunal on the same footing as the prosecution.22 Thus, although

the STL was created by a Security Council Resolution, like the other
mixed courts, it remains a part of the domestic criminal jurisdiction
with international participation and supervision.
With respect to internationally focused judiciaries within national
jurisdictions, I would also like to mention the State Court of Bosnia
and Herzegovina, which has criminal jurisdiction over offences defined
in the Criminal Code of Bosnia and Herzegovina and other laws of
Bosnia and Herzegovina, as well as over crimes under international
law, including war crimes.23 Like the previously mentioned judicial
bodies, the War Crimes Chamber has both internationally appointed
judges and prosecutors but functions entirely as a part of the domestic
legal system. The Section dealing with war crimes has five first-instance
court panels composed of three judges each, two appointed by the High
Representative for Bosnia and Herzegovina and one national. This
Court has already issued a number of judgments and is proceeding to
try cases, including some referred to Bosnia and Herzegovina by the
ICTY pursuant to Rule 11bis of the ICTY Rules of Procedure and
Evidence.24
The Special Court for Sierra Leone is also a mixed tribunal. However,
unlike the judiciaries discussed above, the SCSL does not function as a

22
 Even at the ICTY and ICTR, the defence operates independently of the UN but
the STL has incorporated the defence in hopes of greater assurance of the rights of the
accused.
23
 War Crimes Chamber of Bosnia and Herzegovina of the Court of Bosnia and
Herzegovina; this chamber implements the Criminal Code of Bosnia and was estab-
lished to bring war criminals to justice in a domestic setting, in order to foster the
completion strategy of the ICTY.
24
ICTY Rules of Procedure and Evidence, IT/32/Rev. 44, 10 December 2009, Rule
11bis A, D(iv) and F provide for the determination on the transferability of a case, that
the Prosecutor may observe and monitor the national proceedings and that the ICTY
retains the authority to revoke the transfer, respectively. See also OSCE Mission to
Bosnia and Herzegovina, The Processing of ICTY Rule 11bis Cases in Bosnia and
Herzegovina, 7–11 (2010). (This report traces Rule 11bis referrals and monitors inter-
actions with the ICTY with respect to these referrals.) Rule 11bis of the ICTR Rules of
Procedure and Evidence provides for the same process of referral of cases to national
courts. These Rule 11bis referrals are not limited to the domestic courts of the territory
of the relevant state. However, the ICTR has had less success with such transfers; the
first transfer was the case of Bagaragaza which was transferred to the Dutch courts. See
Prosecutor v. Michel Bagaragaza, Case No. ICTR-2005-86-R11bis, Decision on the
Prosecution Motion for Referral to the Kingdom of the Netherlands, Rule 11bis of the
Rules of Procedure and Evidence, 13 April 2007. This transfer was, however, revoked
by the ICTR upon its finding that the Dutch had no jurisdiction to try him for crimes
of genocide.
 international proliferation of criminal jurisdictions1713

part of the national judiciary. The SCSL was established by agreements

between the government of Sierra Leone and the UN, following
Security Council Resolution 1315, in order to prosecute the crimes
perpetrated during the civil war which devastated the country between
1991 and 2001.25 Unlike the ad hoc tribunals, which were created by
Security Council Resolutions, the SCSL is not a purely international
court. The SCSL is more like the above-mentioned mixed courts
because it is comprised of both national and internationally appointed
judges and can prosecute crimes under Sierra Leonean law as well as
international war crimes and crimes against humanity.26 Despite the
incorporation of a few selected Sierra Leonean crimes into its Statute,
this court remains more international in nature than other mixed
courts, and its progress is monitored by the international community
through the Security Council.27

C. Effects of this Characterization on

Concurrent Jurisdictions

Whatever the terminology is, it is clear that mixed courts are essentially
national tribunals with strong international participation and supervi-
sion. In this respect, the denomination also frequently used, referring
to these institutions as “internationalized” courts or tribunals, may be
misleading as it gives the impression that these domestic courts have
shed their national jurisdiction and became “international”. The mere
participation of internationally appointed judges does not alter the
nature of the jurisdiction they are called upon to exercise, which
remains national, except possibly in the case of the SCSL. Furthermore,
this national jurisdiction is not modified simply because these courts
are mandated to apply international law alongside domestic criminal
provisions, as it is becoming standard for most domestic jurisdictions
also to apply international law, indirectly as persuasive law or directly
through its incorporation into the national law.

25
 SC Res. 1315 of 14 August 2000.
26
 Agreement between the United Nations and the Government of Sierra
Leone on the Establishment of a Special Court for Sierra Leone, SCSL Statute Arti-
cles 2 and 3.
27
 SCSL Statute Article 5 (This article incorporates domestic law with respect to spe-
cific crimes such as crimes against girls and cases of arson.).
1714 fausto pocar

I. Complementarity
As I have previously noted in other academic forums, the characteriza-
tion of these judicial bodies as mixed or purely international may affect
their interaction with the jurisdiction of the ICC and domestic courts.28
Although I still maintain that this risk of concurrent jurisdiction
between any of these institutions and the ICC is minimal, it is worth
noting that those tribunals characterized as mixed or national will have
priority jurisdiction over that of the ICC under the ICC’s principle of
complementarity.29 It is also clear that, based on Article 103 of the UN
Charter, those tribunals set up through Security Council Resolutions
will have priority jurisdiction over the ICC.30 Whereas for those alter-
natively created international jurisdictions it remains unclear which
judicial body will have priority jurisdiction, the international tribunal
or the ICC, and this issue will have to be resolved upon an assessment
of each court’s legal basis such as its statute or implementing treaty.
However, the risk of competing and conflicting concurrent jurisdiction
between these international and mixed courts and the ICC should not
be overstated. Still, in order to ensure that domestic courts may prose-
cute the crimes which would not be reserved to the ICC, the only
practicable way appears to be to establish courts with international
participation.
Furthermore, many States Parties to the Rome Statute have imple-
mented its provisions into their domestic law and thus it seems
unlikely that the practice of complementarity will result in the frag-
mentation of these international legal principles. For example, the
United Kingdom implemented the Rome Statute into its domestic law
and applied it in cases concerning the alleged torture of detainees in
the Iraqi war.31 These accusations were also communicated to the
ICC which later determined that it did not have jurisdiction over these
cases because they were not sufficiently grave, thus dodging the issue of

28
 See supra note 1, 306–307.
29
 See supra note 5, Article 17.
30
 See supra note 1. (Because the ICTY’s temporal jurisdiction may reach into the
future, it is possible that there may be concurrent jurisdiction between the ICTY and
the ICC. However, the likelihood of such occurrence is extremely low and thus is no
longer a pertinent issue.).
31
The Parliament of the UK incorporated the Rome Statute into domestic law
through the International Criminal Court Act of 2001.
 international proliferation of criminal jurisdictions1715

complementarity between the UK and the ICC.32 However, it seems

that the trial of these cases by the UK instead of the ICC did not result
in further fragmentation of these international legal principles.
In order to function efficiently, the ICC will necessarily be limited to
dealing with high level accused. Therefore, the principle of comple-
mentarity will have to be implemented bearing this in mind. This may
result in national courts applying international legal principles of the
Rome Statute inconsistently with the ICC’s interpretation; however,
I submit that this broad application of international law and resulting
accountability will be more beneficial to the struggle against impunity
than would unity on these international legal principles.33

II. Primacy of Jurisdiction

For the ad hoc courts, the concept of primacy of certain international
jurisdictions over domestic courts is explicitly enshrined in Articles 9
and 10 of the ICTY Statute and Articles 8 and 9 of the ICTR Statute, as
interpreted by the jurisprudence. These Articles, after providing for
“concurrent jurisdiction” of the domestic courts and the ad hoc courts,
prescribe that the latter “have the primacy over the national courts of
all States” for crimes falling under their subject-matter jurisdiction.34
They may consequently request national authorities to defer to their
competence “at any stage of the procedure” in accordance with the
Statute and the Rules of Procedure and Evidence.35 While the term
“request” may be understood as implying that the ICTY and ICTR
assertion of primacy is not binding, these tribunals have interpreted
this provision as endowing them with binding authority; thus, as a
matter of law, concurrent jurisdiction of domestic courts is subject to
the primacy of the ICTY and the ICTR.

32
 See ICC OTP Communications and Referrals Report of 9 February 2006,
available at http://www.icc-cpi.int/NR/rdonlyres/04D143C8–19FB-466C-AB77
–4CDB2FDEBEF7/143682/OTP_letter_to_senders_re_Iraq_9_February_2006.pdf.
Many UK soldiers were charged with the inhumane treatment of civilian detainees.
See for example the Baha Mousa Inquiry.
33
This proposition does not discount the possible determinant of sham proceedings
and states acting as if they were applying international law but arranging for acquittals.
However, this risk is not solely a product of the proliferation of international jurisdic-
tions but rather a product of the principle of complementarity.
34
ICTY Statute, Article 9(2); ICTR Statute, Article 8(2).
35
Id.
1716 fausto pocar

It is important to note that there has been no practice of requests to

exercise primacy by the SCSL with respect to the national courts of
Sierra Leone because no prosecutions relevant to the SCSL have been
launched. The SCSL has, however, asserted in various decisions its own
autonomy and pre-eminence vis-à-vis the local legal system and judici-
ary.36 For example, the SCSL rejected the pleas of immunity under the
amnesty provisions adopted by the Sierra Leone legislature.37 The SCSL
also asserted that it would treat the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission (“TRC”), set up as a product of the Lomé Accord, as
a complementary judicial body but that the TRC findings would have
no effect on the judgments of the Chamber.38 With respect to courts
outside Sierra Leone, the SCSL, despite being rather international in
character, of course enjoys no primacy. The Special Panels for East
Timor, and even more so the ECCC, as mentioned above, are very
much considered part of the national judicial system, so primacy does
not apply and thus no conflict with the ICC should occur, either. In this
respect, complementarity and primacy allow for the coordination of
international legal principles even alongside the vast international pro-
liferation of criminal jurisdictions.

D. Issues of Conflicting Jurisprudence

One additional question is whether the current proliferation of inter-

national jurisdictions should be seen as a negative development in light
of another matter, which is potential conflicting rulings on matters of
fact or, more likely, matters of law. Although this is a very interesting
issue on which scholarly work appears to thrive, I do not believe that
there is any cause for alarm in this respect.

I. Establishing Precedent: When and Which Court’s Should be

Followed?
It is an established principle that, within a single jurisdiction, a court or
a tribunal will tend to follow its own precedent. This occurs with the ad

36
 SCSL Statute, Article 8(2).
37
 See for example Prosecutor v. Allieu Kondewa, Case No. SCSL-2004-14-AR72(E),
Decision on Lack of Jurisdiction/Abuse of Process: Amnesty Provided by the Lomé
Accord, 25 May 2004.
38
 See for example Prosecutor v. Sam Hinga Norman, Case No. SCSL-2003-08-PT,
Decision on Appeal by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission for Sierra Leone, 30
October 2003.
 international proliferation of criminal jurisdictions1717

hoc tribunals where, “in the interests of certainty and predictability, the
Appeals Chamber should follow its previous decisions, but should be
free to depart from them for cogent reasons in the interests of justice”.
Accordingly “a proper construction of the Statute requires that the
ratio decidendi of its decisions is binding on Trial Chambers”.39 Pursuant
to its own Statute, the ICC “may apply principles and rules as inter-
preted in its previous decisions”.40 It should be noted that the ICJ also
effectively follows its own precedents unless “there is cause not to fol-
low the reasoning and conclusions of earlier cases”.41 Within one juris-
diction, therefore, there are established ways to deal with possible
inconsistencies.
The ICTY and ICTR Appeals Chambers are composed of the same
judges, which fosters a great degree of consistency between the two
tribunals–as is evident, for instance, in the adoption by Chambers at
the ICTR of the doctrine of joint criminal enterprise, first identified by
the ICTY.42 However, one would be remiss not to recall that the ICTY
and ICTR also refer extensively to legal findings from other courts, in
particular the European Court of Human Rights, which, despite being
non-binding, may in appropriate cases be considered “authoritative as
evidence of international custom”.43
Similarly, one can begin to see a real interplay between international
jurisdictions and domestic courts dealing with similar cases. To give
just one example, the State Court of Bosnia and Herzegovina, men-
tioned above, both in cases referred by the ICTY and under its own
jurisdiction originally, clearly pays attention to the jurisprudence of
the International Tribunals and often refers to it, for example, with
respect to the customary international law nature of crimes against
humanity.44

39
Prosecutor v. Zlatko Aleksovski, Case No. IT-95-14/1-A, Judgment, 24 March
2000, paras. 107, 113. See also id., at paras. 109, 123.
40
 See supra note 5, Article 21, para. 2.
41
Land and Maritime Boundary Between Cameroon and Nigeria, Preliminary
Objections, ICJ Report 1998, 292, para. 28.
42
Prosecutor v. Duško Tadić, Case No. IT-94-1-A, Judgment, 15 July 1999,
paras. 185–228. See, inter alia, André Rwamakuba v. The Prosecutor, Case No. ICTR-98-
44-AR72.4, Decision on Interlocutory Appeal Regarding Application of Joint Criminal
Enterprise to the Crime of Genocide, 22 October 2004.
43
 See for example Jean-Bosco Barayagwiza v. The Prosecutor, Case No. ICTR-97-
19-AR72, Decision, 3 November 1999, para. 40.
44
 See for example Stanković Case, Case No. X-KR-05/70, Verdict, 14 November
2006, 33–34, available at http://www.sudbih.gov.ba/files/docs/presude/2006/Radovan
_Stankovic_-_Verdict_-_ENG.pdf.
1718 fausto pocar

The issue is admittedly slightly more difficult with respect to the tri-
bunals’ relationships with one another. At times, the rule regarding
which precedent should be followed is spelled out in the statute itself.
For example, Article 20 of the Statute of the Special Court for Sierra
Leone provides that its Appeals Chamber, when affirming, revising or
reversing a decision, “shall be guided by the decisions of the Appeals
Chamber of the International Tribunals for the former Yugoslavia
and Rwanda”. In practice, this rule has already been followed by
the Trial Chambers of the SCSL, which have relied heavily on ICTY
and ICTR jurisprudence when identifying the elements of the
crimes with their jurisdiction.45 Therefore, although the precedents of
all these international jurisdictions may not necessarily be binding
on each other, at the very least they provide persuasive case law, which
will inevitably contribute to the evolution and unity of international
criminal law.

II. The Illusion of Conflicting Precedence and Law?

Undoubtedly, the proliferation of jurisdictions dealing with serious
violations of humanitarian law, in the broad sense, may raise some
issues resulting from conflicting interpretations of the law by these dif-
ferent bodies. For example, when the ICJ determined what degree of
control is required to impute responsibility for genocide to a state in
the Genocide Case, it found that the “overall control” test established by
the ICTY in Tadić was inappropriate on two grounds.46 First, it stated
that the issues of individual criminal responsibility and of state respon-
sibility were distinct and did not logically require application of the
same test. Second, the ICJ found that the “overall control” test exceed-
ingly broadened the scope of state responsibility. Thus, according to the
ICJ, there was an apparent conflict of law. The conflict was effectively
resolved by (i) distinguishing the case and (ii) relying on policy consid-
erations.47 However, it remains clear from the formulation of the judg-
ment that the ICJ painstakingly attempted to preserve the perceived
uniformity of international legal principles. Alternatively, I am not
convinced that the possible fragmentation of international law along

45
 See for example The Prosecutor v. Moinina Fofana and Allieu Kondewa, Case
No. SCSL-04-14-T, Judgment, 2 August 2007, paras. 167–175. (This case refers to ICTY
case law in order to define the crime of terror at the SCSL.).
46
 Supra note 42, paras. 120–137; supra note 9, paras. 403–407.
47
 Supra note 9.
 international proliferation of criminal jurisdictions1719

these lines will endanger the implementation of international criminal

law generally.

1. Different Sources of Law

Moreover, in certain cases and despite appearances, conflict does
not actually arise. This happens, for example, when the law applica-
ble before two jurisdictions differs. For instance, when discussing
“co-perpetration” within the statutory regime of the ICC, a pre-trial
chamber of the ICC held that the customary international law
definition of “joint criminal enterprise” endorsed by the ICTY was
inapplicable.48 Instead, the Rome Statute provides for liability for
co-perpetration in Article 25.49 In this case, there is no real conflict
because the sources of law are different and the interpretation of these
sources follows different, possibly even diverging, paths. As previously
mentioned, the source of law for the ICC’s jurisdiction is a treaty, the
Rome Statute, while the source of law for the ICTY’s jurisdiction is
primarily customary international law. Therefore, because the Rome
Statute is not grounded on international customary law but was formed
by multilateral agreement, its interpretations and applications of inter-
national criminal law do not necessarily conflict with existing princi-
ples of international customary law.
However, it is important to acknowledge that the contributions of
the ICC to customary international law are likely to become more sig-
nificant as the number of States Parties to the Rome Statute increases
and the court’s jurisprudence develops. Customary international law is
formed by states’ practice and opinio juris or the states’ compulsion to
abide by universal or nearly universal international principles. Thus,
international customary law is a living and ever evolving legal structure
and may be influenced, over time, by the proliferation of these interna-
tional criminal law jurisdictions.
It is noteworthy that some scholars perceive this possible conflict of
laws as devastating to the enforcement of international customary law.
For example, the ECCC ruled that, despite the ICTY’s finding in Tadić,
the third category of joint criminal enterprise liability was not in fact

48
The Prosecutor v. Thomas Lubanga Dyilo, Case No. ICC-01/04-01/06, Decision on
the Confirmation of Charges, 29 January 2007, paras. 326–367.
49
 See supra note 5, Article 25, para. 3(d). (As the ICC has not yet made a ruling
with respect to this mode of liability it remains slightly unclear what forms of co-
perpetration will be included under the Rome Statute.).
1720 fausto pocar

customary international law during the time of the Khmer Rouge con-
flict.50 As a result of this ruling, two international criminal jurisdictions
differed in their interpretation of the degree of co-perpetratorship
existing in the mid to late twentieth century.51 It is clear that both the
Chambers of the ICTY and the ECCC cannot be correct as to the
degree of co-perpetrator liability under international customary law.
However, as these two tribunals’ precedents are not binding on each
other and as there is no hierarchy between these jurisdictions in inter-
national law, this conflict of interpretation may have little practical
effect on the unity of international criminal law in general.
Competing and conflicting interpretations of international custom-
ary law have always existed; international customary law continues to
be a forum of robust debate and evolution. For example, the ICTY
noted that although it recognized the value of the Draft Codes of the
International Law Commission, which is responsible for drafting codi-
fied principles of international customary law, they do not embody the
entirety of international customary law but merely reflect widely shared
rules of international law.52 Furthermore, the ECCC referred to this
finding of the ICTY in their decision to delete the third category of
Joint Criminal Enterprise (JCE) as a mode of liability under its juris-
diction, which further illustrates the continuing dialogue which
accompanies international customary law.53 It is true that the ECCC’s
decision may call into question some of the findings of the ICTY and
ICTR with respect to the third category of JCE. However, in my view
this will not result in devastation to the ever evolving nature of interna-
tional customary law.

2. The Evolution and Structure of International Law

As has been mentioned above, there is no hierarchy of institutions
within international criminal law. The multiple jurisdictions discussed
above co-exist independently of one another. In response to the possi-
ble fragmentation of international legal principles, some scholars have

50
Case No. 002/19-09-2007-ECCC/OCIJ (PTC38), Public Decision on the Appeals
Against the Co-Investigative Judges Order on Joint Criminal Enterprise, 20 May 2010,
paras. 51–88.
51
Id., supra note 42.
52
The Prosecutor v. Vasiljević, Case No. IT-98-32-T, Judgment, 29 November 2002,
para. 200.
53
 Supra note 50, para. 61.
 international proliferation of criminal jurisdictions1721

suggested that there should be a hierarchy of international legal institu-

tions, and in particular that the ICJ should have the authority to deter-
mine the applicable standards and substance of international law via an
ICJ appellate or review jurisdiction over judgments of the other inter-
national courts.54 In my view, such a hierarchy would be problematic
and may not be suitable for solving interpretation disputes between the
international jurisdictions. This sort of hierarchical coordination
would quickly limit the proliferation of international criminal jurisdic-
tions because all the above-mentioned entities would have first to put
forward any questions of law to the ICJ instead of independently resolv-
ing them within their chambers. This would also endanger the applica-
tion of precedent within these jurisdictions, as the ICJ’s legal findings
might conflict with previously decided cases and might destabilize reli-
ance on past jurisprudence.
Furthermore, as a practical matter, the current structure of the ICJ is
not suitable for this purpose because its jurisdiction is limited to con-
flicts between States Parties and because the Advisory Opinions of the
ICJ are non-binding. Additionally, the ICJ was created to deal with
questions of state responsibility under international law, whereas the
above-mentioned judicial bodies were created to impose individual
responsibility under international criminal law. Finally, such a hierar-
chy would severely call into question the independence of domestic
courts; many domestic courts apply or interpret international law
(directly or indirectly) and, thus, their findings could be made unsafe
by interpretations of the ICJ. In light of the hesitance of many nations
to become States Parties to the ICC, I doubt whether many member
states would be willing to relinquish their judiciaries’ independence to
the ICJ.
Lastly, such a hierarchy may stifle the evolution of international law
across the board. For example, the development of international human
rights norms is greatly attributable to non-state entities including

54
 G. Guillaume, Advantages and Risks of Proliferation: A Blueprint for Action,
2 Journal of International Criminal Justice, 300, 302 (2004). Cf. R. Higgins, A Babel of
Judicial Voices? Rumination from the Bench, in: R. Higgins (ed.), Themes and Theories,
1255, at 1256 (2009). (Higgins advocates interaction between courts as an approach to
ensuring unity among them and takes issue with Guillaume’s suggestion that the ICJ
should be the supreme authority in the international judicial hierarchy. She asserts that
the hierarchical approach to the risks of proliferation is unworkable.). See also
R. Higgins, The ICJ, the ECJ and the Integrity of International Law, 52 International
and Comparative Law Quarterly, 1, at 17–20 (2003).
1722 fausto pocar

­ on-governmental organizations and interest groups, which are by

n
definition not parties to the ICJ Statute and would therefore be limited
in their capacity to influence the development of international human
rights law as interpreted by the ICJ. As such, I prefer the ICJ to continue
to engage in “constant inter-judicial dialogue” so as not to overestimate
or underestimate the risks of the international proliferation of criminal
jurisdictions.55
An inter-judicial dialogue as such ensures that international law
continues to evolve. For example, as noted above, the STL is incorpo-
rated into the Lebanese judicial system yet it applies the highest inter-
national standards for the rights of the accused and fair trial. These
high international standards undoubtedly include aspects of custom-
ary international law, international human rights norms and other
interpretations of international law, and therefore foster the evolution
of international law in general by integrating various sources of inter-
national law. This development can even be seen with respect to the ad
hoc courts which apply primarily international customary law. For
example, the Nuremberg Trials, which tried essentially the same core
crimes under international criminal law, resulted in the accused being
sentenced to death and hanged, whereas today the ICTR and ICTY
cannot impose the death penalty on any of the accused, even those
convicted of the most serious offences like genocide.56 An inter-judicial
and inter-institutional dialogue ensures that despite apparent incon-
sistencies in the application of international criminal law, the prolifera-
tion of international jurisdictions will ensure integration and contribute
to the evolution of international human rights and humanitarian law,
and therefore contribute to international customary law.
Finally, inter-judicial dialogue will foster the development of inter-
national law when a certain court finds that a previous holding by
another jurisdiction no longer conforms to the present state of the law
or is, for other reasons, unpersuasive. This is the case, for example,

55
 Speech by His Excellency Judge Gilbert Guillaume, President of the International
Court of Justice, to the Sixth Committee of the General Assembly of the United Nations
of 27 October 2000. (Judge Guillaume advocated both the superiority of ICJ review of
other international court decisions in the article at supra note 54 as well as inter-
judicial dialogue between all the judicial bodies. In my view the latter need not neces-
sarily accompany the former and the proliferation of international jurisdictions creates
less of a risk if the courts actively engage in this inter-judicial dialogue.).
56
 See ITCR Statute, Article 23, para. 1; ICTY Statute, Article 24, para. 1 (“The pen-
alty imposed by the Trial Chamber shall be limited to imprisonment.”).
 international proliferation of criminal jurisdictions1723

in the dispute on whether parties to international proceedings are

allowed to “proof ” witnesses before they appear in court. The rules
before the ICC and the ICTR are silent on the matter, and the two insti-
tutions have reached different conclusions in this respect.57 However,
these differences–though extremely important in the practical prepa-
ration and management of proceedings–are, in the grand scheme of
things, rather minor. This remains true despite these judicial bodies
having different sources of law, since the Rome Statute is silent on the
matter, so that this difference cannot be explained away merely by the
application of treaty law versus the application of customary interna-
tional law, and it remains to be seen whether or not this difference will
influence the latter.

E. Conclusion

To conclude, let me recall that the establishment of international crimi-

nal courts and tribunals is aimed at ensuring the proper and effective
exercise of criminal jurisdiction over crimes resulting in serious viola-
tions of international humanitarian and human rights law, with a view
to combating impunity for such crimes even where domestic courts
would not be able or willing to do so. The ultimate goal is therefore to
prevent further violations and to achieve respect for the norms and
principles of the above-mentioned branches of international law. While
unity amongst jurisdictions can certainly be regarded as useful in this
context, it cannot be deemed a priority in light of the current structure
of the international community which is making its first attempts at
combating impunity at the international level.
To this effect, it is far more important that the international com-
munity show its ability to react to and prosecute the commission of
crimes through the exercise of independent and impartial jurisdiction,
irrespective of the latter being carried out in different fora. This is true
not only for the criminal prosecution of serious violations of interna-
tional humanitarian and human rights law, but for procedures aimed at
providing a remedy for violations of human rights as a whole. Indeed,

57
Cf. The Prosecutor v. Thomas Lubanga Dyilo, Case No. ICC-01/04-01/06, Decision
on Practices of Witness Familiarisation and Witness Proofing, 8 November 2006 with
The Prosecutor v. Edourard Karemera et al., Case No. ICTR-98-44-AR73.8, Decision on
Interlocutory Appeal Regarding Witness Proofing, 11 May 2007.
1724 fausto pocar

the experience of the international courts and quasi-judicial bodies on

human rights which have proliferated over the past few decades has
proved to be positive in strengthening the protection of international
human rights and humanitarian law, notwithstanding the frequent
overlap of their competence.
Although the risks of the proliferation of international jurisdictions
should not be ignored, they need not be overstated either, because
strengthening the enforcement mechanisms of international criminal
law is an indispensable contribution of all of these judicial bodies.
Although unity of international legal principles, and customary inter-
national law in particular, is important for the proper implementation
of international criminal law, it is not the most pressing consideration.
International proliferation of criminal jurisdictions unites interna-
tional law in the struggle against impunity for the commission of war
crimes, crimes against humanity and genocide, which remains more
influential and important than the possible accompaniment of the
fragmentation of certain legal principles. The battle against impunity
rages on and the struggle for universal enforcement of international
criminal law will undoubtedly continue and, thus, the international
proliferation of criminal jurisdictions is far more of an asset than a
detriment to the evolution of international law.
 ITLOS: The Conception of the Judicial Function

P. Chandrasekhara Rao

Rüdiger Wolfrum and I were elected to the International Tribunal for

the Law of the Sea (“ITLOS” or “Tribunal”) in 1996, re-elected for a
second term in 1999 and for a third term in 2008. We are thus among
the few longest-serving judges of the Tribunal. I was President of the
Tribunal from 1999 to 2002 and Judge Wolfrum from 2005 to 2008.
Students of the jurisprudence of the Tribunal will not have failed to
notice that, except on a few occasions, Judge Wolfrum and I walked on
the same side of the street. Though I am a common law trained judge
and Wolfrum a civil law trained judge, we have achieved a fine intel-
lectual rapport; our understanding of municipal law concepts and
analogies has been very close. My contribution to this Festschrift con-
cerns a subject which Wolfrum would, I hope, readily appreciate.

A. The Legal Status of the Tribunal

The Tribunal is a creation of the United Nations Convention on the

Law of the Sea (“the Convention”). The Convention calls it a tribunal.
Is this a court or less than that? What is the conception of the Convention
with regard to the Tribunal? How has the Tribunal conceived its judi-
cial power and function? The answers to these questions depend upon
the role assigned to the Tribunal by the Convention within the frame-
work of dispute-settlement, and also the jurisprudence of the Tribunal
in the course of the last thirteen years or so of its existence. Not very
many cases have been decided by the Tribunal so far, but the fifteen
cases in which it has given judgments or orders reveal the mind of
the Tribunal and the way it is likely to follow in future years. Other
sources which need to be looked at include the Statute of the Tribunal
(“the Statute”), the Rules of the Tribunal (“the Rules”), the Resolution
on the Internal Judicial Practice of the Tribunal (“the Resolution”) and
the Guidelines concerning the Preparation and Presentation of Cases
before the Tribunal (“the Guidelines”).
It is well-known that all courts of law are tribunals of justice, but the
reverse may not necessarily be so. Where does the Tribunal stand in
1726 p. chandrasekhara rao

this respect? To students of municipal law, especially within common

law countries, a tribunal within the municipal sphere is generally an
administrative body which is entrusted with the task of settling dis-
putes and is almost, but not completely, a court of law. It does not have
all the trappings of a court and enjoys only the status of a quasi-judicial
body, i.e., a body, unlike a court of law, which need not necessarily con-
sist of judicial members, which has the power to regulate its procedure,
which may choose not to hear oral evidence, and which is not bound
by the provisions of procedural codes but is required only to follow
principles of natural justice.1 To them, it makes no difference whether
a tribunal is a standing or an ad hoc body in this respect. In those coun-
tries, even students of law appear to treat the Tribunal as something
less than a court.
The preparatory work of the Third United Nations Conference on
the Law of the Sea does not reveal any proposal at the Conference
which would have called the proposed tribunal a court. No reasons are
apparent for not naming the Tribunal a court. There was, of course,
considerable opposition at the Conference to the establishment of any
standing tribunal on the lines of the present Tribunal. It is, perhaps,
possible that some Conference participants were keen to ensure that, in
the context of the new law of the sea, the proposed tribunal should not
be called a court, in case that might lessen the standing of the
International Court of Justice (“ICJ”) as the only court so named.
Whatever the reason, from the standpoint of public perception the
Tribunal is put at a disadvantage. There is the additional disadvantage
that the name of the Tribunal is rather too long; it is indeed a mouthful
and thus not user-friendly. The name should have been as short as that
of the ICJ or the International Criminal Court. That said, there is no
confusion in the Convention with regard to the true legal character of
the Tribunal. The misconception, if any, is superimposed on the
Tribunal by the legal community which is familiar with the municipal
law distinction between courts and tribunals.

B. A World Court on the Law of the Sea

In Part XV, section 2, of the Convention dealing with compulsory pro-

cedures entailing binding decisions, four means are specified for the

1
See, generally, D. D. Basu, Shorter Constitution of India, at 1517 (13th ed. 2002);
S. P. Sampath Kumar v. Union of India, (1987) 1 Supreme Court Cases, 124.
 itlos: the conception of the judicial function1727

settlement of disputes concerning the interpretation or application of

the Convention. These are: (a) the Tribunal; (b) the ICJ; (c) an arbitral
tribunal constituted in accordance with Annex VII; and (d) a special
arbitral tribunal constituted in accordance with Annex VIII for one or
more of the categories of disputes specified therein. All of them have
equal standing and, under Article 293 of the Convention, are required
to apply the Convention and other rules of international law not incom-
patible with the Convention. They may decide a case ex aequo et bono
if the parties so agree.
However, unlike the Tribunal and the ICJ, the Annex VII arbitral
tribunal and the Annex VIII special arbitral tribunal are ad hoc bodies
which are to be constituted in each case. They need not necessarily
consist of judicial members. Subject to the provisions of Annex VII and
of Annex VIII to the Convention, it is the agreement between the par-
ties which controls the constitution of an arbitral tribunal and lays
down its procedure and functions, etc. The expenses of an arbitral tri-
bunal have to be borne by the parties to the dispute. The legal nature of
the arbitral tribunals specified in Article 287 thus appears to be differ-
ent from that of the Tribunal.
The Convention has conceived the Tribunal as a permanent court of
justice, a world court like the ICJ. It has established the Tribunal as a
court for the international community as a whole. Even States which
are not parties to the Convention and entities other than States may
become parties to cases before the Tribunal. Like the ICJ, it too is an
“organ of international law”2 and an “international judicial organ”.3 It is
a standing judicial body and is composed of a body of independent
members elected by States from among persons enjoying the highest
reputation for fairness and integrity and of “recognized competence in
the field of the law of the sea”.4
Though the Statute refers to a candidate’s competence in “the law of
the sea”, this may be taken as necessarily involving competence in gen-
eral international law as a whole,5 for the twain are inter-connected.
This is also evident from Article 293 of the Convention which requires

2
Corfu Channel (United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland v.
Albania), ICJ Reports 1949, 4, 35.
3
Fisheries Jurisdiction (United Kingdom v. Iceland), ICJ Reports 1974, 9, 181.
4
See Article 2 of the Statute of the Tribunal.
5
See also Sir M. Wood, The International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea and
General International Law, 22 International Journal of Marine and Coastal Law 351,
at 355 (2007).
1728 p. chandrasekhara rao

the Tribunal to apply not only the Convention but also “other rules of
international law not incompatible” with the Convention. This clearly
suggests that members of the Tribunal should also have competence in
the field of international law in general. Though not formally stated in
the Convention, the practical exercise of the judicial function “undoubt-
edly requires a high level of statesmanship and practical wisdom in
addition to the knowledge of the law”.6
If the parties so request, special chambers formed by the Tribunal
may hear disputes.7 Here too, it is the Tribunal which forms such cham-
bers. The composition of a special chamber formed by the Tribunal for
dealing with a particular dispute is, however, determined by the
Tribunal with the approval of the parties.8 The Seabed Disputes
Chamber is established in accordance with section 4 of the Statute. Its
jurisdiction, powers and functions are as provided for in Part XI, sec-
tion 5, of the Convention. Under Article 36 of the Statute, the Seabed
Disputes Chamber may form an ad hoc chamber, composed of three of
its members, for dealing with a dispute submitted to it in accordance
with Article 188, paragraph 1 (b), of the Convention. The composition
of such a chamber is determined by the Seabed Disputes Chamber with
the approval of the parties. As in the case of the constitution of the
Tribunal, so also in the case of the establishment of the Seabed Disputes
Chamber, the Convention does not accord any role to the parties.
Special chambers of the Tribunal are competent to decide disputes only
if the parties so request.9 However, the composition of a special cham-
ber under Article 15, paragraph 2, of the Statute and of an ad hoc cham-
ber of the Seabed Disputes Chamber is determined with the approval
of the parties.
Further, in the Tribunal as a whole, as also in the Seabed Disputes
Chamber, the representation of the principal legal systems of the world
and equitable geographical distribution are required to be assured,10
thereby underlining the Tribunal’s universal character. There are at pre-
sent 160 States Parties to the Convention. Like the ICJ, the Tribunal too
operates on a global plane.

6
T. D. Gill, Rosenne’s The World Court: What It is and How It Works, at 48
(6th ed. 2003).
7
See Article 15 of the Statute.
8
See Article 15, para. 2, of the Statute.
9
See, however, the exception made with regard to the Chamber of Summary
Procedure acting under Article 25, para. 3, of the Statute.
10
See Article 2, para. 2, and Article 35, para. 2, of the Statute.
 itlos: the conception of the judicial function1729

The Rules of the Tribunal are also modelled on the ICJ Rules, while
departing from the latter, where appropriate, keeping in view the dif-
ferences between the Tribunal’s Statute and that of the ICJ in respect of
their competences and also taking into account juridical writings seek-
ing reform in procedures to increase the effectiveness of the ICJ.
Though the parties may jointly propose particular modifications or
additions to the Rules contained in Part III dealing with procedure,
such modifications or alterations may be applied by the Tribunal or
by a chamber only if the Tribunal or the chamber considers them
appropriate in the circumstances of the case.11 The Tribunal or the
chamber, as the case may be, thus retains control over the procedures
applicable to it.
Unlike the ICJ, the jurisdiction of which extends to all legal disputes,
the jurisdiction of the Tribunal is confined to matters provided for in
the Convention. However, in terms of access, unlike the ICJ, the
Tribunal is open not only to States but also to other entities, which
contributes to making the Tribunal’s character more representative
than that of the ICJ, as a judicial institution. The Tribunal’s decisions,
like the decisions of the ICJ, are final and require compliance by all par-
ties to the disputes.12
Thus, except in relation to its jurisdiction, which is limited because
the Tribunal is intended to be a specialized judicial body, in other
respects, especially in terms of organization and procedure, the
Tribunal is very similar to the ICJ. In sum, whereas the ICJ is a world
court in general, the Tribunal is a world court on the law of the sea.
The Tribunal consists of 21 judges. Among the international courts
of universal character, the Tribunal is the only one which has so many
judges. On the face of it, it may appear that a tribunal consisting of so
many judges is rather too big and would not be effective. This is far
from the truth. The composition of the Tribunal is dictated by the
international community, which obviously believed that a large num-
ber of judges, representing a wide spectrum of legal opinion, would
certainly prove to be a great strength of the Tribunal and that this
would serve as a contributory factor to the confidence that States might
place in “the balanced nature” of the decisions of the Tribunal. In prac-
tice, if one looks at the speed with which the Tribunal has delivered its

 Article 48 of the Rules.

11

 Article 296 of the Convention.

12
1730 p. chandrasekhara rao

judgments and orders, it can be seen that its size is no impediment. The
Tribunal has within a short period built a reputation for the swift and
efficient management of cases and thereby established a new trend
in international adjudication. It has dispelled a widely shared belief
that the disposal of cases in international judicial bodies is a time-
consuming process.
A majority of the Tribunal’s judges are from developing countries.
The first three Presidents and the current President of the Tribunal–
Judges Thomas A. Mensah (Ghana), P. Chandrasekhara Rao (India),
L.D.M. Nelson (Grenada) and J.L. Jesus (Cape Verde)–are from devel-
oping countries. It is significant that nobody accuses the Tribunal of
showing developing-country bias in its judgments and orders. Well-
informed commentators have observed, “There is no basis for the fear
that ITLOS would be more easily swayed by pro-developing country
arguments than, say, the ICJ. ITLOS has demonstrated competence and
integrity which inspires confidence”.13

C. Judicial Functions

I. Organization of the Tribunal: The Judges’ Qualifications

Is the Tribunal well-organized to discharge international judicial func-
tions? How does the Convention regard the composition of the
Tribunal? As noted earlier, the Statute, in Article 2, spells out in clear
terms that the Tribunal “shall be composed of 21 independent mem-
bers elected from among persons enjoying the highest reputation for
fairness and integrity and of recognised competence in the field of the
law of the sea”. The Statute thus provides three main qualifications
in relation to members of the Tribunal: (i) independence; (ii) fairness
and integrity, and (iii) recognized competence in the field of the law of
the sea.
“Independence” underlines the freedom of a judge to look at a case
solely on its merits uninfluenced in any way by other people, events or
things or the national interest of the State which nominated him as a
candidate for membership of the Tribunal. “Fairness” implies the
faculty of a judge to treat all parties to a dispute equally and without

13
T. Koh/J. Lin, The Land Reclamation Case: Thoughts and Reflections, 10 Singapore
Year Book of International Law 1, at 3 (2006).
 itlos: the conception of the judicial function1731

discrimination, and not to allow his judgment to be influenced by per-

sonal considerations or prejudices. “Integrity” refers to honesty and a
high moral character.
In a very recent case, the Supreme Court of India, while comment-
ing on the independence of the judiciary at the national level and of
national judges, observed as follows:
“Impartiality, independence, fairness and reasonableness in decision
making are the hallmarks of judiciary. If ‘impartiality’ is the soul of
judiciary, ‘independence’ is the life blood of judiciary. Without inde-
pendence, impartiality cannot thrive. Independence is not the freedom
for the judges to do what they like. It is the independence of judicial
thought. It is the freedom from interference and pressures which pro-
vides the judicial atmosphere where he can work with absolute commit-
ment to the cause of justice and constitutional values. It is also the
discipline in life, habits and outlook that enables a judge to be impartial.
Its existence depends however not only on philosophical, ethical or
moral aspects but also upon several mundane things–security in tenure,
freedom from ordinary monetary worries, freedom from influences and
pressures within (from others in the judiciary) and without (from the
Executive).”14
There is no reason why those observations should not, mutatis mutan-
dis, apply with equal force at the level of the international judiciary.
There is no doubt that international standards of independence and
impartiality are largely inspired by their counterparts at the domestic
level which have an ancient heritage.

1. Verification before Election

Is there any system to ensure that the attributes referred to in Article 2
of the Statute are satisfied in persons elected as judges? In the pre-
election period, there are two checkpoints for this purpose: (i) at the
level of the State nominating the person for the purpose of member-
ship of the Tribunal, as specified in Article 4, paragraph 1, of the Statute,
and (ii) at the level of States Parties electing the person as a judge.15 As
regards (i) above, it is the State which nominates persons for the pur-
pose of membership of the Tribunal that is responsible for ensuring
that such persons have the qualifications prescribed in Article 2 of the

14
Union of India v. R. Gandhi, (2010) INSC 393; see also ECHR, Findlay v. UK,
Judgment of 25 February 1997, Appl. No. 22107/93, 263.
15
See Article 4, para. 1, of the Statute.
1732 p. chandrasekhara rao

Statute. There is no way of overseeing that a State discharges this

responsibility in accordance with the Statute. States, of course, are
legally required to discharge their obligations in good faith.
Turning to (ii) above, States Parties taking part in the election are
equally responsible for making certain that only qualified persons
are elected. This obligation is implicit in the scheme of Articles 2 and 4
of the Statute. This is made explicit in the case of the election of judges
to the ICJ, the Statute of which, in Article 9, states, “At every elec-
tion, the electors shall bear in mind not only that the persons to be
elected should individually possess the qualifications required, but
also that in the body as a whole the representation of the main forms of
civilization and of the principal legal systems of the world should be
assured”.
To be elected as a judge of the Tribunal, a candidate must obtain the
largest number of votes and a two-thirds majority of the States Parties
present and voting, provided that such majority includes a majority of
the States Parties. The two-thirds majority requirement is intended to
ensure that a candidate to be elected has the confidence of a vast major-
ity of the States Parties. In practice, this procedure does not necessarily
ensure that only the best candidates are elected.
Usually, the election of a candidate depends upon the reciprocal sup-
port arrangements a candidate’s Permanent Mission in New York has
with other Missions. Such arrangements have come to play a more
prominent role in more recent years than before. This is also true in
respect of elections to the ICJ. Sometimes, the election process leaves
no choice to the States Parties except to extend support to candidates
who are not particularly known for their qualifications to be elected as
judges. There is undoubtedly a gap between theory and practice in this
area. It is widely recognized that judicial appointments at international
level cannot be entirely insulated from political considerations. This is
not abnormal, since those considerations also play a role, albeit to a
lesser extent, in the appointment of domestic judges.

2. Verification after Election

After the election, there are two checkpoints at which the elected
member’s qualification to hold office comes into play: (i) at the level of
the Member, and (ii) at the level of the Tribunal. Before taking up his
duties, every elected member is required by the Statute to make a
solemn declaration that he will exercise his powers “impartially and
 itlos: the conception of the judicial function1733

conscientiously”.16 Under Article 5, paragraph 1, of the Rules, the dec-

laration to be made by every Member in accordance with Article 11 of
the Statute reads as follows:
“I solemnly declare that I will perform my duties and exercise my powers
as judge honourably, faithfully, impartially and conscientiously.”
Though the post-election requirements refer to the performance of
duties and exercise of powers, they are a necessary adjunct to the quali-
fications which members of the Tribunal should have by virtue of
Article 2 of the Statute. Whenever a judge performs his duties and exer-
cises his powers, he is required by law to bear in mind the solemn dec-
laration made by him and the non-national context in which he is to
operate. The declaration binds the judge. The first check upon a judge’s
performance of his duties is his own sense of self-restraint. As the late
Judge Manfred Lachs observed, “As human beings, judges have their
weaknesses and limitations; however, to be equal to their task they have
to try to overcome them”.17 The academic world, too, has a responsibil-
ity in this regard. Judges must be kept mindful of their obligations and
of their ultimate responsibility to the international community by what
Justice Felix Frankfurter called “a vigorous stream of criticism expressed
with candour, however blunt”.18
Articles 8 and 9 of the Statute establish additional safeguards. They
read as follows:
“Article 8
Conditions relating to participation of members in a particular case
1. No member of the Tribunal may participate in the decision of any case
in which he has previously taken part as agent, counsel or advocate for
one of the parties, or as a member of a national or international court
or tribunal, or in any other capacity.
2. If, for some special reason, a member of the Tribunal considers that he
should not take part in the decision of a particular case, he shall so
inform the President of the Tribunal.
3. If the President considers that for some special reason one of the
members of the Tribunal should not sit in a particular case, he shall
give him notice accordingly.

16
See Article 11 of the Statute. This corresponds to Article 20 of the Statute of
the ICJ.
17
Separate Opinion of M. Lachs, Military and Paramilitary Activities in and against
Nicaragua (Nicaragua v. United States of America), ICJ Reports 1986, 14, 159.
18
Bridges v. California, 314 U. S. 252, 289.
1734 p. chandrasekhara rao

4. Any doubt on these points shall be resolved by decision of the major-

ity of the other members of the Tribunal present.
Article 9
Consequence of ceasing to fulfil required conditions
If, in the unanimous opinion of the other members of the Tribunal, a
member has ceased to fulfil the required conditions, the President of the
Tribunal shall declare the seat vacant.”
These provisions seek to promote transparency in the functioning of
judges and accountability with respect to their duties and discourage
dangerous deviations from the prescribed conditions. In brief, it is said–
rightly so–that a judge is “bound to be impartial, objective, detached,
disinterested and unbiased”.19
The Tribunal is given authority to resolve any doubt with regard to the
interpretation and application of Articles 7 and 8 of the Statute. The
decisions of the Tribunal on resolution of the doubts with regard to any
points mentioned in Articles 7 and 8 may be taken by a simple majority
of the “other” members of the Tribunal present.20 The Tribunal has
adopted a confidential internal document on what constitutes “incom-
patible activities” within the meaning of Article 7 of the Statute and is
careful to ensure that, in practice, the principles embodied therein are
adhered to. There has so far been no occasion for the Tribunal to act
under Articles 7 and 8 of the Statute. Doubts, if any, with regard to a
judge’s activities which, on the face of it, appear to be not in conso-
nance with Article 7 are informally brought to the attention of the
President, who, in consultation with such other judges as he may deem
appropriate, attends to the problem in an informal setting. No President
has so far found the conduct of any judge to be such that it needed to
be placed before the Tribunal. The item on “incompatible activities” is
placed on the agenda of every administrative session of the Tribunal.
Since the workload of the Tribunal is still light, judges return to their
respective homes as soon as the meetings and sessions of the Tribunal
are concluded. When their presence is not required in Hamburg, some
judges work on academic assignments or as international arbitrators or
as ad hoc judges in the ICJ and the like. This work is not treated as
incompatible activities. Nevertheless, it is brought to the attention of
the President of the Tribunal.
Article 9 of the Statute deals with the consequences of a member
ceasing to fulfil “the required conditions”. Though this Article does

19
M. Lachs (note 17), 158.
 Article 9 of the Statute.
20
 itlos: the conception of the judicial function1735

not specify the provisions of the Statute laying down such conditions,
there is no doubt that such conditions are those which are laid
down in Articles 2, 3, 7 and 8 of the Statute. Together they set out a
code of judicial conduct for judges and are to be invigilated by
the Tribunal. If the Tribunal decides that a member has ceased to fulfil
the required conditions, the President must declare the seat vacant.
Such a decision has to be taken by a unanimous decision of the
other members, i.e., excluding the member whose conduct is being
judged. Before a decision is taken, as required by principles of natural
justice, the member concerned will have to be given adequate opportu-
nity to present his case both in written and oral forms.21 The mem-
ber whose seat is declared vacant loses his entitlement to a pen-
sion.22 The process of declaring a seat vacant may not be invoked eas-
ily. Nevertheless, the very availability of the process may help as a
salutary warning to a judge not to commit egregious judicial
blunders.
The Statute seeks to protect the independence of judges in more
ways than one. Article 9 of the Statute provides for security of tenure
inasmuch as it provides no role to any agency other than the Tribunal
in the matter of the removal of a judge from office. It mandates that
judges’ remuneration must not be decreased during their term of office
and that they should be free of all taxation.23 Retired judges are also
given pensions.
In sum, the Statute and the Rules make every effort to preserve the
independence and impartiality of the judges of the Tribunal and thus
protect the essential judicial function of the Tribunal, which is to guar-
antee justice24 and ensure, in the words of the International Law
Association, “the legitimacy and effectiveness of the international judi-
cial process”.25

21
 Article 7 of the Rules.
22
See Article 2, para. 1 (h), of Pension Scheme Regulations for Members of the
International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea.
23
 Article 18 of the Statute.
24
See C. F. Amerasinghe, Reflections on the Judicial Function in International Law,
in: T. M. Ndiaye/R. Wolfrum (eds.), Law of the Sea, Environmental Law and Settlement
of Disputes, at 121–130 (2007).
25
See ILA’s Burgh House Principles on the Independence of the International
Judiciary; The Independence of Judges and Lawyers: A Compilation of International
Standards, CIJL Bulletin 25–26, Special Issue, April-October 1990; M. Lachs, A Few
Thoughts on the Independence of Judges of the ICJ, 25 Columbia Journal of
Transnational Law 593 (1986–1987); M. Lachs, Some Reflections on the Nationality of
Judges of the ICJ, 4 Pace Yearbook of International Law 49 (1992).
1736 p. chandrasekhara rao

II. The Law Applied by the Tribunal

Article 293 of the Convention lays down the applicable law. Paragraph
1 of that Article requires the Tribunal to apply the Convention and
other rules of international law not incompatible with the Convention.
Article 293 does not in any way inhibit the Tribunal from applying
equitable principles when they are inherent in the applicable law.26
Article 293, paragraph 2, of the Convention declares the power of
the Tribunal to decide a case ex aequo et bono “if the parties so agree”.
This indicates that if the parties expressly confer that power on the
Tribunal, it may reach a decision which provides for a reasonable
adjustment of the relations between the parties, and not limit the basis
of its decision to de lege lata. There has so far been no case inviting the
Tribunal to decide a case ex aequo et bono. This is not surprising, since
there are other, perhaps, more effective and suitable procedures avail-
able for providing compromise solutions to disputes.27
Though there is as yet no formal ruling in this regard by the Tribunal,
it appears that, while deciding all disputes and applications submitted
to it, the Tribunal, like the ICJ acting under Article 38, paragraph 1, of
its Statute, will take international law as comprising: (a) international
conventions, whether general or particular, establishing rules expressly
recognized by the contesting States; (b) international custom, as evi-
dence of a general practice accepted as law; (c) the general principles of
law recognized by civilized nations; and (d) subject to the provisions of
Article 296, paragraph 2, of the Convention, judicial decisions and
the teachings of the most highly qualified publicists of the various
nations, as subsidiary means for the determination of the rules of law.
It is well recognized that Article 38, paragraph 1, of the Statute of the
ICJ does not constitute a complete statement on the sources of interna-
tional law.
In practice, however, judicial decisions of international courts are
quoted before them as having precedent value. In their appearance
before the Tribunal, practitioners of international law invariably rely,
inter alia, upon earlier decisions of the Tribunal and of the ICJ in sup-
port of their case. Incidentally, the Tribunal has had no occasion to rely
upon the writings of publicists as authoritative in declaring principles
and rules of international law. This is also consistent with the practice

26
See T. D. Gill (note 6), 122.
27
Id., 122.
 itlos: the conception of the judicial function1737

of the ICJ.28 With the ever expanding crystallization of principles of

international law in the contemporary world, leaving practically no
area unregulated, it is not surprising that the need to rely upon the
teachings of publicists is diminishing and the reliance on case law and
State practice is growing. The Tribunal has not so far given a finding of
non liquet and may not give such finding in future, having regard to the
wide range of rules of law it may apply under the heading “applicable
law” in Article 293 of the Convention.

1. Precedents
It is well-known that stare decisis does not apply in relation to the ICJ.29
Like the ICJ, the Tribunal is not bound by precedent, not even its own,
in the sense in which precedent may be binding in common law coun-
tries. However, while not declaring that it was obliged to follow previ-
ous decisions of its own or of other international courts or arbitral
tribunals, the Tribunal, where appropriate, made frequent reference to
its earlier decisions and those of the ICJ, the Permanent Court of
International Justice and international arbitral bodies, and sought
guidance from them.30 The Tribunal is unlikely to depart from its ear-
lier jurisprudence except for good reason. It is well recognized that,
generally speaking, consistency in decision-making is a self-evident
virtue.31
Article 296, paragraph 2, of the Convention provides that a “deci-
sion” made by the Tribunal has no binding force except between the
parties and in respect of that particular dispute. The “decision” is to be
found in the operative part (the dispositif) of the judgment which may
have to be read with those reasons given in the body of the judgment as
are necessary for the conclusions set out in the operative part and in
the facts which support that decision.32 Further, a decision is authority

28
Id., at 121; see also, Sir R. Y. Jennings, An International Lawyer Takes Stock,
39 The International and Comparative Law Quarterly 513, at 519–520 (1990).
29
M. Shahabuddeen, Precedent in the World Court, at 99 (1996); see D. Terris/
C. Romano/L. Swigart, The International Judge, at 142 (2005).
30
See, for example, ITLOS, M/V “SAIGA” Case (Saint Vincent and the Grenadines
v. Guinea), ITLOS Reports 1999, 10, 52, 56, 62, 65.
31
 E. W. Thomas, The Judicial Process, at 142 (2005); see also M. Shahabuddeen,
Consistency in Holdings by International Tribunals, in: N. Ando et al. (eds.), Liber
Amicorum Judge Shigeru Oda, 633 (2002).
32
See T. D. Gill (note 6), at 122; M. Shahabuddeen (note 29), at 162 et seq.; Islamic
Academy of Education v. State of Karnataka, (2003) 6 Supreme Court Cases, 697,
771–772.
1738 p. chandrasekhara rao

for what it decides and not what can logically be deduced therefrom.33
A slight difference in facts or additional facts may lead to a different
conclusion. The words of a judgment are not to be treated as though
they are words in a legislative enactment or a treaty.34 As observed by
Lord Morris, “it is to be remembered that judicial utterances are in the
setting of the facts of a particular case”.35

2. Judicial Decisions as Source of Law

Doctrinal debate continues to exist on the question whether judicial
decisions of international courts constitute a source of international
law.36 Article 38 paragraph 1, d) of the Statute of the ICJ qualifies judi-
cial decisions as a “subsidiary means for the determination of rules of
law”.37 But in reality they are something more. It has long been recog-
nized at the level of municipal law that, within certain limits, courts
make law.38 As Lord Diplock put it, “Courts by the very nature of their
functions are compelled to act as legislators”.39 Even at the international
level, while not denying that no court has “purely legislative compe-
tence”, the value of case law as a source of international law may not be
denied.40 The ICJ has never treated Article 59 of its Statute as interfer-
ing with its role in the progressive development of law.41 The “reality of
judicial creativity” deserves to be acknowledged.

3. Obiter Dicta
Of course, the legal expositions in the decisions of the Tribunal may
not always be said to have avoided reasons which are not essential
to the conclusions in the operative part of its judgment or used the

33
See Union of India v. Chajju Ram, (2003) 5 Supreme Court Cases, 568, 576.
34
General Electric Co. v. Renusagar Power Co., (1987) 4 Supreme Court Cases, 137.
35
Herrington v. British Railways Board, [1972] 1 All England Reports 749; see also
Hameed Joharan v. Abdul Salam, (2001) 7 Supreme Court Cases, 573, 589.
36
See P. Chandrasekhara Rao, The Indian Constitution and International Law, at 30
(1993).
37
See Sir M. Wood (note 5), at 345.
38
See M. McHugh, The Law-making Function of the Judicial Process, 62 Australian
Law Journal 15 (1988).
39
Id., at 18.
40
See J. J. Quintana, The ICJ and the Formulation of General International Law,
in: A.S. Muller et al. (eds.), The International Court of Justice, 367–381 (1997);
M. Shahabuddeen (note 29), at 69–96; N. Singh, The Role and Record of the ICJ,
at 137–172 (1989).
41
See P. Chandrasekhara Rao (note 36), at 30.
 itlos: the conception of the judicial function1739

minimum of wording necessary to decide the case in hand. For exam-

ple, referring to certain observations in M.V. “SAIGA” (No.2) Case
regarding the genuine link, a well-known commentator observed,
“Having concluded that the evidence adduced by Guinea was not suf-
ficient to justify its contention that there was no genuine link between
the ship and St. Vincent at the material time, the Tribunal could have
deemed it unnecessary to resolve the issue of the legal effect of the
absence of a genuine link (just as it deemed it unnecessary to resolve
the question of bunkering in the EEZ)”.42
Similarly, in the more recent “Tomimaru” Case,43 the Tribunal, hav-
ing found that the “decision of the Supreme Court of the Russian
Federation brings to an end the procedures before the domestic
courts”, that “a decision under Article 292 of the Convention to release
the vessel would contradict the decision which concluded the proceed-
ings before the appropriate domestic fora and encroach upon nation-
al competences, thus contravening Article 292, paragraph 3, of the
Convention,”44 could have deemed it unnecessary to assert, in para-
graph 76 of the Judgment, as follows:
“A decision to confiscate eliminates the provisional character of the
detention of the vessel rendering the procedure for its prompt release
without object. Such a decision should not be taken in such a way as
to prevent the ship owner from having recourse to available domes-
tic judicial remedies, or as to prevent the flag State from resorting to
the prompt release procedure set forth in the Convention; nor should
it be taken through proceedings inconsistent with international stand-
ards of due process of law. In particular, a confiscation decided in
unjust haste would jeopardize the operation of Article 292 of the
Convention.”45
Besides being unnecessary to decide the case in hand, those observa-
tions appear to leave room for an argument that they unduly strayed
outside the four corners of the case and are even contrary to the
provision of Article 292, paragraph 3, of the Convention, which pro-
hibits the Tribunal from getting into the “merits of any case before the

42
See B. H. Oxman/V. Bantz, The M/V ‘Saiga’ (No. 2) (Saint Vincent and the
Grenadines v. Guinea), Judgment (ITLOS Case No. 2), 94 American Journal of
International Law 140, at 148 (2000).
43
ITLOS, “Tomimaru” (Japan v. Russian Federation), Prompt Release, Judgment,
ITLOS Reports 2005–2007, 74.
44
Id., 97.
45
Id., 96.
1740 p. chandrasekhara rao

appropriate domestic forum”.46 Where a statement not necessary for

the disposal of a case proves controversial or is found contrary to the
provisions of the Convention, it may not necessarily be followed by
the Tribunal in future cases. It is well-recognized in municipal law
that when a judgment is delivered which ignores the provisions of
the governing legal instrument, such judgment is per incuriam and is
not a binding precedent.47 While this concept is not formally recog-
nized in the jurisprudence of international courts, it is well-known
that when a judgment runs counter to the provisions of an interna-
tional convention or is demonstrably wrong, it may not necessarily
be followed even by an international tribunal which has given such
judgment.48
International courts do acknowledge the concept of obiter dictum,
which refers to a statement in a case that is not necessary to the deci-
sion.49 Pronouncements on the law in a judgment which are in the
nature of obiter dicta, as distinct from ratio decidendi, do not enjoy the
formal authority of the latter and do not carry as much persuasiveness
as the latter. This is because the judicial power of a court derives from
the need to decide actual cases.50
However, since it is the function of a court to remain focused on
deciding actual cases, it should, as a general rule, avoid getting into
reasoning not essential for the disposal of a case before it. Further, a
statement of non-essential reasons in a judgment should avoid giving
indications as to how a court might decide future cases. It is not the
function of any judicial body to explain how it will work in situations
far removed from the case at bar. This can also be seen as an aspect of
the established principle of judicial procedure known as the ne ultra
petita rule, whereby a tribunal is debarred from going beyond what
it is asked, in the submissions of the parties before it, to decide.51 In
fact, the formulation in Article 21 of the Statute also excludes from

46
See Declaration of Judge Nelson, ITLOS Reports 2005–2007, 74, 100; Separate
Opinion of Judge Jesus, id., 105; Separate Opinion of Judge Lucky, id., 109.
47
V. Krishna Rao v. Nikhil, (2010) 5 Supreme Court Cases, 513, 532–533.
48
See Sir M. Wood (note 5), at 354.
49
See Polish Postal Service in Danzig, Advisory Opinion, PCIJ 1925, Series B, No. 11,
29–30; M. Shahabuddeen, (note 29), at 152–164; see also H. Thirlway, Judicial Activism
and the International Court of Justice, in: N. Ando et al. (eds.), Liber Amicorum Judge
Shigeru Oda, 75 (2002).
50
W. L. Reynolds, Judicial Process, at 81–82 ( 3rd ed. 2002).
51
See also N. Singh, The Role and Record of the International Court of Justice,
at 101 (1989).
 itlos: the conception of the judicial function1741

the jurisdiction of the Tribunal aspects of a dispute which the parties

have reserved for settlement for themselves.

4. Separate and Dissenting Opinions

It has been pointed out that the Tribunal’s judgments and orders are
regularly accompanied by an array of separate and dissenting opinions
which might compromise the authority of the majority judgment and
that this could inhibit some litigants from having recourse to the
Tribunal.52 This comment deserves serious consideration by the
Tribunal. The Tribunal’s Orders and Judgments delivered in 15 cases so
far have attracted 32 Separate Opinions, 25 Declarations and 17
Dissenting Opinions. It is said that the ICJ has delivered 125 judgments
(in 144 cases decided by it so far) and they attracted 765 individual
Opinions.
It is obvious that a unanimous decision enjoys greater authority than
one made by a small majority.53 The ICJ also appears to endorse this
view.54 It is equally true that a decision made by a small majority is as
valid a decision as one reached unanimously. Any decision, whether
reached unanimously or by a simple majority, is “final” and required to
be “complied with by all the parties to the dispute”.55 It may be that a
decision reached by a simple majority is more open, in later cases, for
reconsideration than one reached unanimously.
In practice, judges do try to reach unanimous decisions. Even unani-
mous decisions attract separate opinions or declarations. This is the
case, for example, with the “Hoshinmaru” Case and the “Tomimaru”
Case, the latest cases decided by the Tribunal. It is not uncommon for
judges to agree with the conclusion in the operative part of a judgment
but not with the reasons set out in support of it. In some cases, the
judgment may not give any reason in support of the conclusion. In
such cases, judges may feel it necessary to append separate opinions to
explain their position. There is no provision enabling judges of the

52
V. Lowe, The Interplay between Negotiation and Litigation in International
Dispute Settlement, in: T. M. Ndiaye/R. Wolfrum (eds.), Law of the Sea, Environmental
Law and Settlement of Disputes, 235, at 236 (2007); see also Sir R. Y. Jennings, The
Differences Between Conducting a Case in the ICJ and in an ad hoc Arbitration
Tribunal–An Inside View, in: N. Ando et al. (eds.), Liber Amicorum Shigeru Oda, 893,
at 899 (2002).
53
See also M. Shahabuddeen (note 29), at 142–144.
54
Id.
55
 Article 296, para. 1, of the Convention.
1742 p. chandrasekhara rao

Tribunal to abstain from the statements made in the operative part of

the judgment. The situation is no different in respect of the ICJ. In the
case of any collegiate judicial body, there is nothing abnormal in this.
Separate and dissenting opinions are part of any vibrant judicial body,
whether municipal or international, and help in making the judgments
and orders transparent. They too form part of the collective product of
a judicial body.56 It is not often realized that they are taken into consid-
eration at the draft stage of the judgment and help the judgment to
respond to the points made therein. The pursuit of consensus for the
sake of appearing to be unanimous where there is no real convergence
of views may sometimes lead to a false consensus on a specific point.57
This is by no means rare in the practice of international courts, and the
Tribunal is no exception in this regard.
As a general rule, the judgments and orders of the Tribunal, like
those of the ICJ, contain compromise elements. This is because of the
efforts of the majority of judges in any case to seek “wider support
within the Tribunal” for an order or judgment.58 While, sometimes,
such efforts may contribute to going beyond what is necessary for the
disposal of a case on its merits, at other times such efforts may serve as
useful restraint on undue judicial activism. The inside story of what
happens during the Tribunal’s deliberations may never be known to the
outside world.

III. Need for Reasoned Judgment

It is well-established in municipal law that decisions of public authori-
ties should be transparent and based on valid reasons, lest they are
accused of arbitrariness.59 This applies, or shall apply, with equal force
to decisions of international courts. Judicial decisions should not only
be based on valid reasons but also disclose such reasons. Article 125 of
the Rules requires that the judgment of the Tribunal must contain “the
reasons of law on which it is based”. Article 135 contains an identical
provision in respect of the advisory opinion of the Tribunal.
Transparency is the antidote to a charge of arbitrariness. Undisclosed
reasons are the source of different types of criticism, some warranted
and some unwarranted.

56
M. Shahabuddeen (note 29), at 195–200.
57
M. Shahabuddeen (note 29), at 144, 180–181, 191–195.
58
See Article 7, para. 2, of the Resolution.
59
W. L. Reynolds (note 50), at 55 et seq.
 itlos: the conception of the judicial function1743

With regard to the Tribunal, the criticism is levelled that its judg-
ments and orders are too brief and do not explain the reasoning behind
its findings of fact and of law.60 The Tribunal is aware of this criticism
and constantly endeavours to reason out its conclusions as much as is
practicable. It may be that more needs to be done.

IV. Changes in the Composition of the Tribunal

On account of triennial elections to the Tribunal, changes occur in the
composition of the Tribunal and office of the President of the Tribunal.
Has this affected the way judicial business is handled by the Tribunal?
In the case of the ICJ, it has been observed that “changes in legal per-
spective could occur as a result of changes in its composition”.61 The
South West Africa Case62 is quoted as a classic example in support.
In theory, the Tribunal (like any other judicial body which under-
goes partial renewal periodically) is in the same league as the ICJ in
this regard. In practice, so far, the changes referred to above have not
materially brought about changes in the legal perspective of the
Tribunal. For example, though the Judgments in the Southern Bluefin
Tuna Cases, the MOX Plant Case and the Land Reclamation Case were
each delivered by a differently composed Tribunal and under different
Presidents, the judicial policy in those cases remained substantially the
same. Even in respect of prompt release cases, too, the Tribunal has
maintained continuity in its jurisprudence, notwithstanding some
changes referred to earlier in this Article.

V. Inherent Limitations
The Tribunal, as a judicial body, is subject to certain inherent limita-
tions or restraints flowing from its judicial character. In the Tomimaru
Case, the Tribunal declared that the Application filed by Japan against
the Russian Federation was “without object”, and accordingly declined

60
See, for example, S. Rosenne, International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea: 1988
Survey, 14 International Journal of Marine and Coastal Law 453, at 461, 463–464
(1999); V. Lowe, The International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea: Survey for 2000,
16 International Journal of Marine and Coastal Law 549, at 559, 561 (2001);
R. R. Churchill, ITLOS: The Southern Bluefin Tuna Cases, 49 The International and
Comparative Law Quarterly 979, at 983 (2000); Sir M. Wood (note 5), at 367.
61
See M. Shahabuddeen (note 29), at 145–146.
62
See South West Africa, Second Phase (Ethiopia v. South Africa), ICJ Reports
1966, 6.
1744 p. chandrasekhara rao

to pronounce upon the several submissions of the parties. This is con-

sistent with a broader principle that a “judicial organ may not perform
functions which are not in keeping with their judicial character”.63
In the Haya de la Torre Case, the ICJ held that its job was to give a judg-
ment and not to give practical advice on how that judgment could be
implemented, for to give such advice would amount to departing from
its “judicial function” (ICJ Reports 1951, at 83). The general principles
of law regarding inherent limitations which flow from the judicial
character of a tribunal have to be gathered from the case law of that
body. For example, the Tribunal may not exercise its contentious juris-
diction in the absence of a legal dispute.64 It may not, therefore, enter-
tain a purely scientific or political dispute, even if both parties consent,
for to do so would compromise its judicial character.
In its advisory opinion given on 22 July 2010 in the Kosovo Case,
the ICJ held that “the discretion whether or not to respond to a request
for an advisory opinion exists so as to protect the integrity of the
Court’s judicial function”.65 In short, the Court may not exercise its
discretionary powers while ignoring the judicial propriety of their
exercise. There are enough indications that the Tribunal, like the ICJ,
may not perform functions which are not in keeping with its judicial
character.

VI. Inherent Powers

“Inherent powers” are defined in Black’s Law Dictionary as “powers
over and beyond those expressly granted in the Constitution or reason-
ably to be implied from express grants”.66 The Supreme Court of India
has held:
“Inherent powers are powers which are resident in all courts, especially
of superior jurisdiction. These powers spring not from legislation but

63
C. F. Amerasinghe (note 24), 121, at 125–127; see also the Northern Cameroons
Case (Cameroon v. United Kingdom), ICJ Reports 1963, 15, at 383; The Nuclear Test
Cases: (New Zealand v. France), Interim Protection, Order of 22 June 1973, ICJ Reports
1973, 99–135, (Australia v. France and New Zealand v. France), Judgments, ICJ Reports
1974, 253 and 457; F. Berman, The Uses and Abuses of Advisory Opinions, in: N. Ando
et al. (eds.), Liber Amicorum Judge Shigeru Oda, 809 (2002).
64
See ITLOS, Southern Bluefin Tuna (New Zealand v. Japan; Australia v. Japan),
Provisional Measures, Order of 27 August 1999, ITLOS Reports 1999, 280, 293.
65
Accordance with International Law of the Unilateral Declaration of Independence
in Respect of Kosovo, Advisory Opinion of 22 July 2010, available at www.icj-cij.org,
at 13.
66
 H. C. Black, Black’s Law Dictionary, 782 (6th ed. 1990).
 itlos: the conception of the judicial function1745

from the nature and the constitution of the tribunals or courts

themselves.”67
This statement represents a general principle of law followed in almost
all legal systems. Even at the international level, it has been observed
that “tribunals have as wide an inherent jurisdiction in regard to rem-
edies as is appropriate to their judicial functions as international tribu-
nals”.68 The Tribunal’s competence to prescribe remedies different from
those prayed for may also have to be appreciated in this perspective.
This competence in a judicial body has functional justification and is
required in order for it to pass orders as may be necessary to meet the
ends of justice.

VII. Development of Law

What have been the broad goals of the Tribunal while discharging
its judicial functions? Has the Tribunal conceived its function merely
as being that of deciding cases within the bounds of its jurisdiction
and applicable law, without referring to wider principles of interna-
tional law underlying the cases before it?69 Like the ICJ, the Tribu-
nal too has not made policy declarations of a general nature in this
regard.

1. Prompt Release Cases

In its judgments in prompt release cases, which have occupied the
major part of the Tribunal’s judicial workload, the Tribunal’s main
focus is on Article 292 of the Convention, which seeks to secure the
prompt release of the vessel and crew upon the posting of a reasonable
bond, pending completion of the judicial procedures before the courts
of the detaining State. In those cases, the Tribunal has generally dis-
played judicial reserve and economy. The Tribunal has heard nine such
cases, and all of them raised issues appearing in the general context of
illegal, unreported and unregulated fishing, mainly in the French and
Australian exclusive economic zones of the Southern Ocean. Though
France raised these issues in its pleadings as relevant in the determina-
tion of a reasonable bond, the Tribunal remained silent on them in its

67
Indian Bank v. Satyam Fibres (India) (P) Ltd., (1996) 5 Supreme Court Cases,
550, 562.
68
See C. F. Amerasinghe (note 24), at 123, 128.
69
On issues arising in this context see the contributions generally in R. Wolfrum/
V. Roben (eds.), Legitimacy in International Law (2008).
1746 p. chandrasekhara rao

Judgment in the “Camouco” Case,70 presumably on the assumption that

they were not relevant to the issue under determination in the case.
In the very next case, the “Monte Confurco” Case,71 France raised those
very issues again. This time the Tribunal took “note of this argu-
ment”. Those issues were raised again in the “Volga” Case72 and in the
“Juno Trader” Case73 by Australia and Guinea-Bissau, respectively. The
response of the Tribunal remained substantially the same. In
the “Volga” Case, the Tribunal observed, “The Tribunal understands
the international concerns about illegal, unregulated and unreported
fishing and appreciates the objectives behind the measures taken by
States, including the States Parties to CCAMLR, to deal with the prob-
lem”. The Tribunal, however, made it clear that it was not dealing with
that issue in the proceedings under Article 292 of the Convention. In
the “Juno Trader” Case, the Tribunal once again took note of the con-
cern of the respondent. Here is a clear indication that the Tribunal does
not want to stray unduly outside the four corners of the case.
Contrast the above with the readiness of the Tribunal to utilize a
relevant context in a case to develop the law. Humanitarian considera-
tions are not mentioned in Article 73, paragraph 2, of the Convention,
which reads as follows: “Arrested vessels and their crews shall be
promptly released upon the posting of reasonable bond or other secu-
rity”. Nevertheless, the Tribunal declared, “The obligation of prompt
release of vessels and crews includes elementary considerations of
humanity and due process of law. The requirement that the bond or
other financial security must be reasonable indicates that a concern for
fairness is one of the purposes of this provision.”74

2. Provisional Measures
Turning now to the orders of the Tribunal in cases involving the pre-
scription of provisional measures, it may be noted that, by virtue of
Article 290, paragraph 5, of the Convention, the Tribunal is competent

70
ITLOS, “Camouco” (Panama v. France), Prompt Release, Judgment, ITLOS
Reports 2000, 10.
71
ITLOS, “Monte Confurco” (Seychelles v. France), Prompt Release, Judgment,
ITLOS Reports 2000, 86, 110.
72
ITLOS, “Volga” (Russian Federation v. Australia), Prompt Release, Judgment,
ITLOS Reports 2002, 10, 32–33.
73
ITLOS, “Juno Trader” (Saint Vincent and the Grenadines v. Guinea Bissau),
Prompt Release, Judgment, ITLOS Reports 2004, 17, 87.
74
Id., at 38–39.
 itlos: the conception of the judicial function1747

to prescribe provisional measures “pending the constitution of an arbi-

tral tribunal to which a dispute is being submitted … if it considers that
prima facie the tribunal which is to be constituted would have jurisdic-
tion and that the urgency of the situation so requires”. A party may
request the prescription of such measures “for the preservation of the
respective rights of the parties or for the prevention of serious harm to
the marine environment”.75 The Tribunal has prescribed provisional
measures in the following four cases: the Southern Bluefin Tuna Cases,76
the MOX Plant Case,77 and the Land Reclamation Case.78 All these cases
deal with marine environmental matters.
The Tribunal cannot initiate proceedings with regard to provisional
measures except at the request of an aggrieved party.79 However, by
virtue of Article 89, paragraph 5, of the Rules, the Tribunal may pre-
scribe measures different in whole or in part from those requested. A
similar provision is contained in Article 75, paragraph 2, of the Rules of
Court of the ICJ. Inspired by these provisions, and without demur from
the parties, the Arbitral Tribunal constituted for the dispute concern-
ing the MOX Plant Case also prescribed provisional measures other
than those sought by the Parties (see its Order No. 3 dated 24 June
2003). As stated earlier, reference may also be made here to the inher-
ent power of an international tribunal, deriving from its judicial func-
tion, to grant remedies, unless the governing instrument provides
otherwise.80 The parties are also under an obligation to report compli-
ance with the provisional measures prescribed by the Tribunal,81 until

75
See Article 89, para. 3, of the Rules read with Article 290, para. 1, of the
Convention.
76
ITLOS, Southern Bluefin Tuna (New Zealand v. Japan; Australia v. Japan),
Provisional Measures, Order of 27 August 1999, ITLOS Reports 1999, 280.
77
ITLOS, MOX Plant (Ireland v. United Kingdom), Provisional Measures, Order of
3 December 2001, ITLOS Reports 2001, 95.
78
ITLOS, Land Reclamation in and around the Straits of Johor (Malaysia v.
Singapore), Provisional Measures, Order of 8 October 2003, ITLOS Reports 2003, 10.
79
 Article 290, para. 3, of the Convention.
80
See also C. F. Amerasinghe (note 24), at 127–128.
81
 Article 95 of the Rules provides as follows: “1. Each party shall inform the Tribunal
as soon as possible as to its compliance with any provisional measures the Tribunal has
prescribed. In particular, each party shall submit an initial report upon the steps it has
taken or proposes to take in order to ensure prompt compliance with the measures
prescribed. 2. The Tribunal may request further information from the parties on any
matter connected with the implementation of any provisional measures it has pre-
scribed”. The Arbitral Tribunal in the MOX Plant Case, in its Order of 3 June 2003,
while calling upon the parties for report and information on compliance with the pro-
visional measures affirmed therein, observed that its direction in this regard was “con-
sistent with the practice of ITLOS”, see para. 68 of the Order.
1748 p. chandrasekhara rao

the Annex VII arbitral tribunal is in a position to “modify, revoke or

affirm those provisional measures”.82 The question may arise as to the
purpose of seeking such reports and information from the parties. The
Tribunal is not empowered to enforce compliance with its orders. This
does not mean that there is a diminution in the legal obligation of the
parties to abide by the order or to render a proper account of how this
obligation is being discharged. Such rendering of reports has a twofold
objective: first, the party will be required to justify in its reports to the
Tribunal whether its actions are in conformity with the provisional
measures prescribed by the Tribunal; and, second, the reports may help
in establishing a breach, if any, of obligations arising under provisional
measures prescribed by the Tribunal in the final decision on the merits,
whether of the Tribunal or of an arbitral tribunal. A State which suffers
damage as a result of a breach of such obligations is entitled to secure
reparation for the damage suffered from the State which committed the
wrongful act.83
The Tribunal has made creative use of Article 89, paragraph 5, of the
Rules. While finding that the measures sought by the applicant State in
the four cases mentioned above were not well-founded, the Tribunal
prescribed measures consistent with the procedural obligations of the
States Parties relevant to the protection of the marine environment
under the Convention, without encroaching in any way on the basis
established under Article 290, paragraphs 1 and 5, of the Convention
for the prescription of measures.
Article 290, paragraph 1, of the Convention provides that provi-
sional measures may be prescribed if a court or tribunal considers
them to be “appropriate under the circumstances to preserve the
respective rights of the parties to the dispute or to prevent serious harm
to the marine environment”. The expression “rights of the parties”
includes both substantive and procedural rights under the Convention.
The reference to appropriate measures “to prevent serious harm to the
marine environment” is also connected with measures arising under
the procedural obligations of the parties referred to in the Convention
with regard to the marine environment. In connection with the

82
See ITLOS, Land Reclamation in and around the Straits of Johor (Malaysia v.
Singapore), Provisional Measures, Order of 8 October 2003, ITLOS Reports 2003, 10,
22, paras. 67–69.
83
See Factory at Chorzow, Merits, Judgment No. 13, PCIJ 1928, Series A, No. 17, 14;
see also P. Chandrasekhara Rao, ITLOS: The First Six Years, 6 Max Planck Yearbook of
United Nations Law 183, at 244 (2002).
 itlos: the conception of the judicial function1749

­ rescription of provisional measures under Article 290, paragraph 5, of

p
the Convention, it is relevant that the prescription of such procedural
obligations should be warranted by “the urgency of the situation”.84 The
Arbitral Tribunal constituted for the dispute concerning the MOX
plant has observed that international judicial practice explains that a
general requirement for the prescription of provisional measures to
“preserve the respective rights of the parties” within the meaning of
Article 290, paragraph 1, of the Convention is that there needs to be a
“showing both of urgency and of irreparable harm to the claimed
rights” (see paragraph 58 of its Order No. 3 of 24 June 2003).
In the Southern Bluefin Tuna Cases, the provisional measures pre-
scribed by the Tribunal are not exactly the same as those requested by
Australia and New Zealand.85 The question of serious harm to the
marine environment was not raised by the parties; the Tribunal took
up the issue on its own initiative. The Tribunal declared that the “con-
servation of the living resources of the sea is an element in the protec-
tion and preservation of the marine environment”.86 The prevention of
serious harm to the southern bluefin tuna became, therefore, the focal
point and the basis for the preliminary measures prescribed by the
Tribunal. The Tribunal stated that “there is no disagreement between
the parties that the stock of southern bluefin tuna is severely depleted
and is at its historically lowest levels and that this is a cause for serious
biological concern”,87 that “the Tribunal has been informed by the par-
ties that commercial fishing for southern bluefin tuna is expected to
continue throughout the remainder of 1999 and beyond”,88 that “the
catches of non-parties to the Convention of 1993 had increased consid-
erably since 1996”,89 and that “there is scientific uncertainty regarding
measures to be taken to conserve the stock of southern bluefin tuna
and that there is no agreement among the parties as to whether the
conservation measures taken so far have led to the improvement in
the stock of southern bluefin tuna”.90 The Tribunal concluded that
“the parties should in the circumstances act with ‘prudence and

84
See ITLOS, Southern Bluefin Tuna Cases, ITLOS Reports 1999, 280, at 295; see the
ITLOS, MOX Plant Case, ITLOS Reports 2001, 95, 108.
85
 For comments on the Tribunal’s Order in these cases see P. Chandrasekhara Rao
(note 83), 183, at 245–255.
86
See ITLOS, Southern Bluefin Tuna Cases, ITLOS Reports 1999, 280, 295, para. 70.
87
Id., para. 71.
88
Id., 296, para. 75.
89
Id., para. 76.
90
Id., para. 79.
1750 p. chandrasekhara rao

caution’91 to ensure that effective conservation measures are taken to

prevent serious harm to the stock of southern bluefin tuna”92 and that
“measures shall be taken as a matter of urgency to preserve the rights
of the parties and to avert further deterioration of the southern bluefin
tuna stock”.
Among the measures prescribed by the Tribunal on its own, the fol-
lowing deserve special mention: the parties shall ensure that their
annual catches do not exceed the annual national allocations at the lev-
els agreed by the parties; that the parties shall each refrain from con-
ducting an experimental fishing programme involving the taking of a
catch of southern bluefin tuna; the parties to the dispute should resume
negotiations without delay with a view to reaching agreement on meas-
ures for the conservation and management of southern bluefin tuna;93
and the parties should endeavour to reach agreement with other States
and fishing entities engaged in fishing for southern bluefin tuna with a
view to ensuring conservation and promoting the objective of opti-
mum utilization of the stock.94
Prof. James Crawford, who appeared as counsel for Australia, later
observed:
“There, the Tribunal’s intervention at the stage of provisional measures
played a very significant role in bringing the parties–Australia, New
Zealand and Japan–back to negotiations with each other … the even-
tual result was that the Southern Bluefin Tuna Commission was
revitalized.”95
In a similar vein, Philippe Sands observed:
“I could not easily imagine many other international courts adopting
such a far-reaching provisional measure on a matter relating to conserva-
tion measures. The provisional measures brought to an early end Japanese
bluefin fishing in the waters governed by the 1993 Convention. Moreover,
the respect shown by Japan to the Order in the form of its full implemen-
tation is commendable.”96

91
 Emphasis added.
92
Id., para.77.
93
ITLOS, Southern Bluefin Tuna Cases, ITLOS Reports 1999, 280, 299.
94
Id.
95
See also the Award of the Arbitral Tribunal in the Southern Bluefin Tuna Cases,
Reports of International Arbitral Awards, Volume XXIII, 47, paras. 67–69; B. Mansfield,
The Southern Bluefin Tuna Arbitration: Comments on Professor Barbara Kwiatkowska’s
Article, 16 International Journal of Marine and Coastal Law 361 et seq. (2001).
96
 P. Sands, ITLOS: An International Lawyer’s Perspective, 75 Philippine Law
Journal 455, at 464–465 (2001).
 itlos: the conception of the judicial function1751

Rosenne observed:
“This indicates that carefully drafted provisional measures prescribed by
ITLOS may have an implication for the future actions of the parties and
lay the basis for the final solution of the dispute, even when the arbitral
tribunal does not have jurisdiction over the dispute. There is no reason
why this notion should not be given a wider application, in that way
making the provisional proceedings an important element in the general
procedures available to States for the pacific settlement of their interna-
tional disputes.”97
It may be noted that the Tribunal made use of what it creatively called
“prudence and caution” and carefully avoided any reference to the
“precautionary principle or approach”, keeping in view the doctrinal
controversy whether such principle or approach is part of customary
international law. Both these concepts, however, have the same parent-
age. The concept of “prudence and caution” has been made use of in the
subsequent prompt release cases and should be taken as having
acquired its roots in general international law. The treatment of the
conservation of the living resources of the sea as an element in the pro-
tection and preservation of the marine environment is equally
innovatory.
The Tribunal displayed the same broad view with regard to environ-
mental cooperation in the MOX Plant Case.98 The Tribunal was
requested by Ireland by way of provisional measures to order that the
MOX plant not be approved or commissioned. Based on the evidence
placed on record by the parties and taking into account the assurances
given by the United Kingdom,99 it did not find that the urgency of the
situation required the prescription of the provisional measures
requested by Ireland in the short period before the constitution of the
Annex VII arbitral tribunal.100
However, it considered that the duty to cooperate was a fundamental
principle in the prevention of pollution of the marine environment
under Part XII of the Convention and general international law and
those rights arising therefrom which the Tribunal might consider
appropriate to preserve under Article 290 of the Convention. It further

97
S. Rosenne, Procedural Measures in International Law, at 157–158 (2005).
98
ITLOS, MOX Plant (Ireland v. United Kingdom), Provisional Measures, Order of
3 December 2001, ITLOS Reports 2001, 95.
99
See paras. 78, 79 and 80 of the Order mentioned above. For examination of the
case see P. Chandrasekhara Rao, (note 83), at 255–270.
100
See supra note 98, para. 81.
1752 p. chandrasekhara rao

considered that “prudence and caution” required that both parties

cooperate in exchanging information concerning risks or effects of the
operation of the MOX plant and in devising ways to deal with them101
and that Ireland and the United Kingdom “should” each ensure that no
action was taken which might aggravate or extend the dispute submit-
ted to the Annex VII arbitral tribunal.102 Pending a decision by the
Annex VII arbitral tribunal, the Tribunal prescribed the following pro-
visional measure, under Article 290, paragraph 5, of the Convention:
“Ireland and the United Kingdom shall cooperate and shall, for this pur-
pose, enter into consultations forthwith in order to:
(a) exchange further information with regard to possible consequences
for the Irish Sea arising out of the commissioning of the MOX plant;
(b) monitor risks or the effects of the operation of the MOX plant for the
Irish Sea;
(c) devise, as appropriate, measures to prevent pollution of the marine
environment which might result from the operation of MOX plant.”
There are certain unexplained but implicit premises in the Order. The
Tribunal’s refusal to prescribe provisional measures as requested by
Ireland obviously related to the so-called substantive right invoked by
Ireland to ensure that the Irish Sea would not be subject to additional
radioactive pollution on account of the commissioning of the MOX
plant. However, it appears that, in the opinion of the Tribunal, the
requirement of urgency was not satisfied in respect of the substantive
right so claimed, but satisfied in relation to the rights arising out of the
duty to cooperate–the so-called procedural rights–which it sought to
preserve, for there was no other basis for the prescription of provisional
measures under Article 290, paragraph 5, of the Convention.
The Order seems to be founded on the premise that the measures
prescribed underlined a sense of urgency. The cooperation prior to the
commissioning of the MOX plant and the cooperation afterwards may
not be placed on the same footing; the former, for instance, may con-
tribute to the promotion of several options, including temporary sus-
pension of the commissioning of the plant, withdrawal of the case filed
against the United Kingdom, and the enunciation of measures with the
cooperation of Ireland which would minimize future risk, if any, from
the operation of the plant. Though these options may still be available

101
See para. 84 of the Order of 3 December 2001.
102
See para. 85 of the Order of 3 December 2001.
 itlos: the conception of the judicial function1753

in future, in the field of protection and preservation of the marine envi-

ronment, especially among States bordering a semi-enclosed sea, what
needs to be done today should not be put off until tomorrow; other-
wise, the potential of the right arising out of the duty to cooperate may
never be attained and something will be irretrievably lost. This, then, it
appears, constitutes the raison d’être of the Order of the Tribunal and
the link between what was prescribed and the requirements for the pre-
scription of provisional measures in paragraph 5, read with paragraph
1, of Article 290 of the Convention.103
The Land Reclamation Case104 is no different from its predecessors.
The Tribunal found that the requirement of urgency was not satisfied
in respect of the substantive relief sought by Malaysia concerning sus-
pension of Singapore’s land reclamation activities, especially in view of
the commitments given by Singapore during its oral proceedings.105
That said, the Tribunal proceeded to state that Malaysia and Singapore
shared the same marine environment in and around the Straits of Johor
and reiterated its dictum in the MOX Plant Case that “the duty to co-
operate is a fundamental principle in the preservation and prevention
of pollution of the marine environment under Part XII of the
Convention and general international law and that rights arise there-
from which the Tribunal may consider appropriate to preserve under
Article 290 of the Convention”.106
The Tribunal observed that an assessment concerning the impact of
the land reclamation works on waters under the jurisdiction of Malaysia
had not been undertaken, that it could not be ruled out that, in the
particular circumstances of the case, the land reclamation works might
have adverse effects on the marine environment, and that, given the
possible implications of land reclamation on the marine environment,
“prudence and caution” required that Malaysia and Singapore establish

103
See P. Chandrasekhara Rao (note 83), at 269–270. It has been observed that
the Tribunal’s Order in the MOX Plant Case “reveals a wholesome lack of prejudice
against provisional measures and a commendable example of respect for the environ-
ment of the Irish Sea and for the procedural rights of the Party requesting the meas-
ures”; J. Barboza, Provisional Measures, or the Dangers of Being Too Exceptional, in:
T. M. Ndiaye/R. Wolfrum (eds.), Law of the Sea, Environmental Law and Settlement of
Disputes, 143 (2007).
104
The Land Reclamation Case (note 78), 10.
105
See paras. 85 to 88 of the Tribunal’s Order; for comments on this case see
T. Treves, The International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, 13 Italian Year Book of
International Law 157 (2003).
106
ITLOS, The MOX Plant Case (see note 77), para. 82.
1754 p. chandrasekhara rao

mechanisms for exchanging information and assessing the risks or

effects of land reclamation works and devise ways to deal with them in
the areas concerned. The Tribunal, pending a decision by the Annex
VII arbitral tribunal, called upon the parties to establish a group of
independent experts to determine, within a period not exceeding one
year from the date of the Order, the effects of Singapore’s land reclama-
tion and to propose, as appropriate, measures to deal with any adverse
effects of such land reclamation, and to prepare, as soon as possible, an
interim report on the subject of infilling works in Area D at Pulau
Tekong, an aspect which was of immediate concern to Malaysia. Judges
ad hoc Kamal Hossain and Bernard H. Oxman voted in favour of the
Tribunal’s Order and appended a joint declaration explaining the rea-
sons for their support of the Order. The joint declaration represented a
rare occurrence in international adjudication and spoke well of the
integrity of the judicial process in the Tribunal.107
It is significant to note that, though the Arbitral Tribunal constituted
under Annex VII to the Convention in the Bluefin Tuna Cases, while
holding that it had no jurisdiction, declared that the Order of the
Tribunal indicating provisional measures ceased to be operative only
upon delivery of the awards declining jurisdiction. The Arbitral
Tribunal declared very significantly in its Award of 4 August 2000 that
the revocation of the Tribunal’s Order “does not mean that the Parties
may disregard the effects of that Order or their own decisions made in
conformity with it”.108
In its Order No. 3, the Arbitral Tribunal in the MOX Plant Case saw
no reason to disagree with the finding of ITLOS that prima facie it had
jurisdiction. It affirmed the provisional measures prescribed by ITLOS
in its Order of 3 December 2003. Those measures obviously continued
till the termination of the proceedings by the Arbitral Tribunal by its

107
T. Koh/J. Lin observed, “The Court did not accede to Malaysia’s request for pro-
visional measures against Singapore. In that sense, the outcome was a victory for
Singapore. Instead, the court requires the two Parties to establish a group of independ-
ent experts, with the mandate to conduct a study in terms of reference to be agreed
between Malaysia and Singapore. The group of experts was tasked to determine, within
a year, the effects of Singapore’s land reclamation works and to propose appropriate
measures to deal with any adverse effects. This was a brilliant move by the court because
it compelled the two parties to return to a co-operative mode and to resolve their dif-
ferences on the basis of an objective study by independent experts.” (Emphasis added).
See T. Koh/J. Lin, The Land Reclamation Case: Thoughts and Reflections, 10 Singapore
Year Book of International Law, 1, at 3 (2006).
108
See the Award (note 95), 47, para. 67.
 itlos: the conception of the judicial function1755

Order of 6 June 2008, following the withdrawal by Ireland of its claim

against the United Kingdom.
The Arbitral Tribunal constituted in the “Land Reclamation” Case on
1 September 2005 gave an Award on agreed terms whereby it termi-
nated the arbitration proceedings. This Tribunal had no occasion to
comment upon its prima facie jurisdiction or deal with the provisional
measures prescribed by ITLOS. In view of the Settlement Agreement
reached between the Parties, it found that it had jurisdiction to pass the
termination Award. However, the provisional measures prescribed by
ITLOS continued in view of its Order that its measures be continued
pending a decision by the Annex VII Arbitral Tribunal.
The fact that an arbitral body, constituted to adjudicate on the merits
of a case, declared that it had no jurisdiction in the case does not in any
way reflect adversely on the standing of the Tribunal with regard to its
order on provisional measures under Article 290, paragraph 5, of the
Convention. The possibility of another tribunal taking a contrary view
is an integral part of the judicial system, whether national or interna-
tional. That said, such a declaration by an arbitral tribunal does not
amount to overruling the Tribunal with regard to its finding of prima
facie jurisdiction. There is a major difference between a decision of the
Tribunal that a future tribunal (or even the Tribunal itself) would
prima facie have jurisdiction, reached after summary argument in
urgent proceedings under Article 290, paragraph 5, of the Convention,
and a decision reached by a duly constituted arbitral tribunal after full
argument and in light of a much greater volume of written material
than ITLOS had at the time of its Order that such a tribunal does not
have jurisdiction to go into the merits; the former is undoubtedly a
very low threshold for the exercise of the provisional measures pow-
ers.109 It may be recalled that the ICJ, in the Anglo-Iranian Oil Co. Case,
having found first that it did have prima facie jurisdiction over the mer-
its and proceeded on that basis to indicate provisional measures of pro-
tection, later found that it had no jurisdiction in the case.110

109
See S. Rosenne, The Case-Law of ITLOS (1997–2001): An Overview, in:
M. H. Nordquist/J. N. More (eds.), Current Marine Environmental Laws and the
International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, 127, at 133 (2001); see also para. 61 of
Order No. 3 of the Arbitral Tribunal constituted for the dispute concerning the MOX
Plant.
110
See Anglo-Iranian Oil Co (United Kingdom v. Iran), ICJ Reports 1952, 93; see
also S. Rosenne, id., at 134.
1756 p. chandrasekhara rao

3. Case on Merits
The Tribunal has also used other opportunities to explain the reach of
the provisions of the Convention in the light of general principles of
law. In the M.V. “SAIGA” (No. 2) Case,111 the only case decided so far by
the Tribunal on the merits, the Tribunal had occasion to lay down sub-
stantive principles with regard to the need for the establishment of a
genuine link between the flag State and the vessel before the former
could bring an international claim against another State in respect of
illegal measures taken against the vessel: the scope and applicability of
the local remedies rule in cases involving direct violations of the rights
of the flag State; the entitlement of a flag State to claim protection in
respect of persons and things on board the ship flying its flag irrespec-
tive of the nationalities of such persons; the competence of the Tribunal
to determine the compatibility of national laws and regulations within
the framework of the Convention; the competence of a coastal State to
apply its customs laws within the exclusive economic zone; the availa-
bility to a coastal State of the principle of “public interest” to prohibit
any activities in the exclusive economic zone which affect its fiscal or
economic interests; the extent to which a coastal State can rely on the
defence of ‘state of necessity’ in order to justify an otherwise wrongful
act in the exclusive economic zone; the conditions which needed to be
satisfied for the exercise of the right of hot pursuit under Article 111 of
the Convention; the application of considerations of humanity in the
law of the sea, especially the basic principles concerning the use of
force in the arrest of a ship at sea and against the persons on board; and
entitlement to reparation for damage suffered by a flag State as well as
for damage or other loss suffered by its vessel, including all persons
involved or interested in its operation. Compensation was awarded for
injury, pain and suffering, disability and psychological damage to the
officers concerned.
It is interesting to note that the Tribunal, while directing Guinea to
pay compensation with interest to Saint Vincent and the Grenadines in
the sum specified in the operative provisions of the Judgment, found its
way, perhaps without the backing or support of any precedent in this
regard, to indicate how that sum should be distributed by the flag State

111
ITLOS, M/V “SAIGA” (No. 2) (Saint Vincent and the Grenadines v. Guinea),
Judgment, ITLOS Reports 1999, 10; see also P. Chandrasekhara Rao (note 83),
at 270–279.
 itlos: the conception of the judicial function1757

in respect of damage to the ship, financial losses of the ship’s users, the
operators of the ship, the owners of the cargo, and the Master, members
of the crew and other persons on board the ship, etc. This is a clear
instance where the Tribunal, wanting to do justice to non-State entities
affected by the incident in question, pierced the veil surrounding the
parties to the case. The Tribunal’s conclusion in this regard has to be
confined to the facts of the case. It appears that the Tribunal had no
intention of developing law in this respect.

VIII. Various Forms of Judicial Contribution

Resolution of a dispute on its merits is not the only way in which the
Tribunal could help the parties. In “Chaisiri Reefer 2” Case,112 an appli-
cation under Article 292 of the Convention was filed on behalf of
Panama against Yemen for the prompt release of the “Chaisiri Reefer”
(a vessel flying the flag of Panama), its crew and cargo. The President
fixed the dates for the hearing in the case. Immediately thereafter, the
parties informed the Tribunal that the vessel, its cargo and crew had
been released by Yemen and that the Parties had agreed to discontinue
the proceedings in accordance with Article 105, paragraph 2, of the
Rules. The case was accordingly removed from the list of cases. This is
a case in which, it would appear, the availability of relief from the
Tribunal helped promote an out-of-court settlement.
In its “Swordfish” Case,113 the Tribunal contributed to the resolution
of a dispute even before entering into the merits phase of the case. This
is the first case of its kind in which–thanks to the Convention–an inter-
national organization became a party to a contentious case before an
international court. This is also the first case in which the Parties agreed
that the dispute be referred to a special chamber of the Tribunal to be
formed in accordance with Article 15, paragraph 2, of the Statute. Since
the Parties informed the President of the Special Chamber that they
had reached a provisional arrangement concerning the dispute and
requested that the proceedings before the Special Chamber be sus-
pended, the time-limits for the proceedings had been extended from
time to time since 2001.

112
ITLOS, “Chaisiri Reefer 2” (Panama v. Yemen), Order of 13 July 2001, ITLOS
Reports 2001, 82.
113
ITLOS, Case concerning the Conservation and Sustainable Exploitation of
Swordfish Stocks in the South-Eastern Pacific Ocean (Chile/European Union), Order of
16 December 2009, http://www.itlos.org.
1758 p. chandrasekhara rao

At the request of the Parties, on 17 December 2009, the Special

Chamber issued an Order, pursuant to Article 105, paragraph 2, of the
Rules, in which it recorded the discontinuance, by agreement of the
Parties, of the proceedings initiated on 20 December 2000 by Chile
and the European Community and ordered that the case be removed
from the list of cases. The Order also recorded the elements of the
terms of the settlement agreed between the Parties. The outcome of the
case may be seen as a classic example of what the Tribunal may do to
bring about the settlement of disputes by peaceful means chosen by the
parties. At the public hearing held to close the case, both Chile and the
European Union paid tribute to the Tribunal and to the Special
Chamber for their invaluable assistance in bringing a dispute which
had divided the Parties for about 20 years to a very satisfactory
conclusion.

D. Conclusion

The Convention has conceived the Tribunal as an independent and

truly judicial court with jurisdiction limited to the law of the sea. Like
the ICJ, it is also a specialized civil court. The Convention establishes it
as a full-time court; in practice, it works part-time because of its pre-
sent case-load. However, its judges are required to hold themselves at
the disposal of the Tribunal.114
There is a consensus of opinion at the level of the Meetings of States
Parties to the Convention and the General Assembly of the United
Nations to which the President of the Tribunal submits yearly accounts
of the activities undertaken by the Tribunal that the Tribunal has been
functioning effectively. In its resolutions, the General Assembly has
been noting with satisfaction “the continued and significant contribu-
tion of the Tribunal to the settlement of disputes by peaceful means in
accordance with Part XV of the Convention”, and underlining “the
important role and authority of the Tribunal concerning the interpre-
tation or application of the Convention”.115
There is a widely shared view even in the academic world that
the Tribunal discharges its judicial function impartially and crea-
tively and has handled cases swiftly and efficiently, especially in urgent

 Article 41, para. 3, of the Rules.

114
115
GA Res. 64/71 of 12 March 2010.
 itlos: the conception of the judicial function1759

proceedings. It has been observed that the Tribunal is a “truly expert

tribunal”, the members of which have enormous experience in Law of
the Sea matters,116 that it has been a “sensitive and creative” tribunal
making a very significant contribution to the settlement of disputes,117
that the judges of the Tribunal–a majority of them from developing
countries–have not adopted approaches which have promoted the
interests of one group of States or another, that the Tribunal has adopted
what has been called a “hands-on” managerial approach in its handling
of procedural issues, that it has adopted “rather ‘modern’ approaches to
international law and international legal process, including its concep-
tion of the judicial function”,118 that “ITLOS is already demonstrating,
in its quiet way, that it has the ability to make a very significant contri-
bution to thinking on the Law of the Sea, and on general international
law in general, from the modest base which it currently occupies”.119
The litigants before the Tribunal have come from all the regions of the
world. Remarkably, the rate of acceptance of the Tribunal’s decisions is
quite high. Nevertheless, it is somewhat disconcerting that all the cases
dealt with by the Tribunal–with one exception–were on account of its
compulsory residual jurisdiction, and that even these cases have not
been so numerous as to keep the Tribunal “busy”.
States have differences of opinion on a wide variety of issues.
International judicial bodies offer a forum only for settlement of legal
disputes. The existence of different procedures for the settlement of dis-
putes is no guarantee that States will bring their disputes for interna-
tional adjudication. There are quite a number of factors which influence
the decision of States in seeking third-party settlement of a legal dis-
pute. It is common knowledge that States prefer negotiation with regard
to settlement of disputes, since it gives them control over the outcome
of the case. Settlement of dispute under Part XV, section 1, of the
Convention will, therefore, remain the preferred choice of the disput-
ing parties. Since it is also an ideal choice, Part XV starts off with that
choice.

116
V. Lowe (note 52), 235, at 236.
117
Id., at 244.
118
See also P. Sands (note 96), at 455, 459, 464–465; Speech delivered by Judge
Higgins, the then President of the ICJ, on 29 September 2006 at a formal ceremony
marking the Tenth Anniversary of the Tribunal.
119
V. Lowe/R. Churchill, The International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea: Survey
for 2001, 17 International Journal of Marine and Coastal Law 463, at 484 (2002). See
also Sir M. Wood (note 5), 351, at 367.
1760 p. chandrasekhara rao

Where no settlement has been reached by having recourse to section

1 of Part XV, compulsory procedures entailing binding decisions speci-
fied in section 2 of Part XV apply if the limitations and exceptions to
the applicability of section 2 set out in section 3 are not attracted. With
regard to those compulsory procedures, it appears that States prefer
arbitration, since, as is generally believed, it offers them, in comparison
to judicial settlement, more control over the outcome of the case and
greater participation in the decision-making.120 This is perhaps one of
the reasons why, in Part XV, section 2, of the Convention, arbitration in
accordance with Annex VII to the Convention is the default compul-
sory procedure.
There are a number of reasons why the Tribunal should be a more
attractive means of dispute settlement than arbitration. The Judgments
and Orders of the Tribunal illustrate this point in more ways than
one. It is open to the parties to have a special chamber of the
Tribunal,similar to an arbitral body for dealing with a particular dis-
pute. The composition of such a chamber requires the approval of
the parties.121 If such a chamber does not have a member of the nation-
ality of one of the parties, that party may choose a person to participate
as a member of the chamber.122 The parties may jointly propose par-
ticular modifications or additions to the Rules of the Tribunal.123 The
aforesaid provisions in the Statute and the Rules of the Tribunal were
acted upon in the Swordfish Case. This was a case which was originally
referred to arbitration as the applicable default procedure, but later
submitted to a special chamber of the Tribunal, and the advantages
the parties derived therefrom are a matter of public record. This is also
true of the M/V “SAIGA” (No. 2) Case. There are also advantages
in preferring settlement through standing courts rather than ad hoc
arbitral tribunals in terms of established jurisprudence, low costs and a
well-organized Registry.124

120
See generally, R. S. Lee, Towards a More Proactive System of Dispute Settlement,
in: N. Ando et al. (eds.), Liber Amicorum Judge Shigeru Oda, 923, at 933 (2002).
121
See Article 15, para. 2, of the Statute.
122
See Article 17, para. 2, of the Statute.
123
See Article 48 of the Rules.
124
See also A. Aust, Peaceful Settlement of Disputes: A Proliferation Problem, in:
T. M. Ndiaye/R. Wolfrum (eds.), Law of the Sea, Environmental Law and Settlement of
Disputes, 131, at 133–134 (2007); see also Sir R. Y. Jennings, The Differences Between
Conducting a Case in the ICJ and in an ad hoc Arbitration Tribunal, in: N. Ando et al.
(eds.), Liber Amicorum Judge Shigeru Oda, 893, at 908–909 (2002).
 itlos: the conception of the judicial function1761

That said, it cannot be denied that States would select a court or tri-
bunal depending upon their perception of that body and, in particular,
its capacity to conduct the proceedings expeditiously with due regard
to procedural fairness and provide balanced and just solutions to dis-
putes based on the facts presented and the applicable law. Let it not be
forgotten that under the Convention forum shopping is possible.
It is encouraging to see that two new cases–Cases 16 and 17–have
been instituted in the Tribunal recently. Case No. 16 involves a dispute
concerning delineation of the marine boundary between Bangladesh
and Myanmar in the Bay of Bengal. In Case No. 17, the International
Seabed Authority has made a request for an advisory opinion by the
Seabed Disputes Chamber of the Tribunal on “Responsibilities and
Obligations of States sponsoring persons and entities with respect to
activities in the Area”. These cases are indeed welcome events and,
hopefully, represent a sign of what is to follow.
 Provisional Measures in the International
Tribunal for the Law of the Sea

Peter Tomka & Gleider I. Hernández

On the occasion of Judge and Professor Rüdiger Wolfrum’s 70th

birthday, it gives us great pleasure to contribute to this Festschrift in his
honour with a chapter on provisional measures in the International
Tribunal for the Law of the Sea (ITLOS). Judge Wolfrum, a Member of
that Tribunal since 1996 and its President from 2005 to 2008, has
greatly contributed to the evolution of the practice of the Tribunal and
the development of its jurisprudence. Moreover, from both his judicial
office in Hamburg and his academic office as Director of the Max-
Planck Institute for Comparative Public Law and International Law in
Heidelberg, he has made a great contribution to the international law
of the sea and to international law more generally. The topic of our
piece is thus perhaps a fitting tribute.

A. General Comments on Provisional Measures

The essence of provisional measures is to protect the rights at issue of

either party in a case pendente litis, and to prevent the extension or
aggravation of a dispute. Such measures were designed to remedy the
problem which can arise from the complex, sometimes time-­consuming
nature of international judicial proceedings, and avoid an eventual
judgment becoming meaningless in whole or in part once it is ren-
dered.1 Particularly interesting about a request for provisional meas-
ures is that the court or tribunal seised of such a request, in examining

1
 One of the classic statements justifying the indication of provisional measures was
given by the International Court of Justice in Fisheries Jurisdiction (United Kingdom v.
Iceland; Federal Republic of Germany v. Iceland), Provisional Measures, ICJ Reports
1972, 16, para. 21, and 34, para. 22: “Whereas the right of the Court to indicate provi-
sional measures as provided for in Article 41 of the Statute has its objective to preserve
the respective rights of the Parties pending the decision of the Court, and presupposes
that irreparable prejudice should not be caused to rights which are the subject of dis-
pute in judicial proceedings, and that the Court’s judgements should not be anticipated
by reason of any initiative regarding the measures which are in issue …”.
1764 peter tomka & gleider i. hernández

the causes prompting the request, does not examine the nature of the
dispute or the facts or law underlying it; instead, it aims to study emerg-
ing or existing events external to the proceedings, such as the conduct
of the parties in general or with respect to the subject-matter of the
dispute, and determines whether the non-indication of measures
would seriously impair the rights to be determined later on in the even-
tual judgment. A strong component of judicial discretion therefore
permeates the very nature of provisional measures, although, in the
case law of the International Court of Justice (ICJ) at least, some crite-
ria have been articulated which help to define objectively the exercise
of the power to indicate provisional measures.2
ITLOS is not in a formal relationship with the ICJ, as both bodies
stand independent of and separate from each other; yet in substance,
there is a relationship between the two which follows from the fact that
the substantive competences of both institutions are broadly situated in
the field of the peaceful settlement of international disputes through
judicial means.3 There are of course differences in competence ratione
materiae between the ICJ and the Tribunal. The ICJ has wider material
jurisdiction over legal inter-state disputes in all areas of international
law, whilst the Tribunal’s jurisdiction is confined to the interpretation
or application of UNCLOS or an international instrument related to
the purposes of UNCLOS.4 However, when establishing the UNCLOS
regime, negotiating states were certainly influenced by the law and
practice of the International Court.5 In the light of both this and the

2
 S. Rosenne, Provisional Measures in International Law (2005), provides the most
comprehensive and thorough study of provisional measures at the two institutions; see
also S. Torres Bernárdez, Provisional Measures and Interventions in Maritime
Delimitation Disputes, in: R. Lagoni/D. Vignes (eds.), Maritime Delimitation, 33, at 41
et seq. (2006).
3
C.-A. Fleischauer, The Relationship between the International Court of Justice and
the Newly Created International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea in Hamburg, 1 Max
Planck Yearbook of United Nations Law 327, at 330 (1997).
4
 Article 288, paras. 1 and 2, of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the
Sea, 10 December 1982, UNTS Vol. 1833 No. 31363, hereinafter “UNCLOS”.
5
 S. Rosenne (note 2), at 46, explains in detail how, for example, the concept of
prima facie jurisdiction over the merits was introduced into the Convention following
the development of that notion by the ICJ. He also expresses the view that Article 290,
paras. 1 to 4, of UNCLOS represents a codification or a codification/restatement of the
ICJ’s law and practice. See also B. H. Oxman, The Rule of Law and the United Nations
Convention on the Law of the Sea, 7 European Journal of International Law 353, 367
(1996); D. L. Morgan, Implication of the Proliferation of International Legal Fora: The
Example of the Southern Bluefin Tuna Cases, 43 Harvard Journal of International Law
541, at 542–543 (2002).
 provisional measures in the itlos1765

Court’s extensive practice in the area of provisional measures, coupled

with the fact that the Tribunal’s procedure was designed in the light of
that experience, the Tribunal’s provisional measures proceedings may
rightly–and usefully–be compared to those of the Court.

B. Structure of ITLOS and its Relationship to UNCLOS

I. Article 290 of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea
and Annex VI thereof
The creation of the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, a
tribunal specifically designed to resolve disputes relating to the United
Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, was an important innova-
tion in the area of international dispute settlement for a number of
reasons. The first reason is the compulsory dispute settlement mecha-
nism on the interpretation or application of UNCLOS put in place by
part XI, section 5,6 and part XV, section 2,7 of that Convention. Together,
they provide a series of specific mechanisms ranging from conciliation
to arbitration to judicial recourse to ITLOS for the compulsory settle-
ment of disputes; the panoply of choice, announced as the Convention’s
“first principle”,8 was the result of the much-heralded “package deal”
embodied within the Convention.9 Interestingly, ITLOS is only one of
several specific mechanisms applicable to settling disputes under
UNCLOS, alongside recourse to the International Court of Justice as
well as conciliation and arbitral mechanisms of varying shades.10 With
respect to the ICJ at least, the parallel possibility of the seising of that
court or ITLOS bespeaks the structural similarities between the two
judicial institutions.
Another interesting point is that non-state entities are also accorded
procedural standing in connection with activities in the international
seabed area, for which a separate chamber exists within the ITLOS

6
 Articles 186–191 UNCLOS.
7
 Articles 286–299 UNCLOS, together with Annexes V (conciliation), VI (ITLOS),
VII (arbitration) and VIII (special arbitration).
8
C. F. Amerasinghe, Jurisdiction of Specific International Tribunals, at 257 (2009).
9
 S. Rosenne (note 2), at 44.
10
 Article 287 UNCLOS. The arbitral tribunals can be constituted under Annex VII
(arbitral tribunal) or Annex VIII (special arbitral tribunal); S. Rosenne (note 2), at 45,
explains that the main approach in UNCLOS is based on the “principle of the freedom
of choice of dispute settlement procedure embodied in Articles 33 and 95 of the
Charter”.
1766 peter tomka & gleider i. hernández

system.11 This is an important distinction as compared to the proceed-

ings before the ICJ, where only states may be parties to disputes;12 and,
in fact, it is one of the main reasons why the main rules, both substan-
tive and procedural, relating to ITLOS were specifically embodied in
UNCLOS.
The special nature of ITLOS transcends the jurisdiction conferred
thereupon by UNCLOS and derives primarily from the specific part it
plays in the entire UNCLOS system; besides hearing cases over which
it has jurisdiction on the merits, it was also designed as “the ultimate
safeguard always available for all purposes to ensure that recourse
to the compulsory dispute settlement procedures under the Conven­
tion would not be frustrated on technical grounds”.13 It is against this
background that one must understand the highly specific arrange-
ments for provisional measures of protection developed in Article 290
UNCLOS which are applicable to ITLOS. These arrangements were
both necessary to cover the variety of courts and tribunals, all vested
with jurisdiction under the Convention, as well as to settle without
ambiguity the binding nature of such provisional measures laid down
in Article 290, paragraph 6, of UNCLOS.14
An interesting illustration of the cross-fertilization of the jurispru-
dence of ITLOS with that of the ICJ in matters relating to provisional
measures relates to the binding nature of such measures.15 Article 290

11
Part XI, section 5, of UNCLOS. Although not a dispute, on 11 May 2010 that
Chamber was requested by the Council of the International Seabed Authority to give
the first Advisory Opinion of the Tribunal on the “Responsibilities and obligations of
States sponsoring persons and entities with respect to activities in the International
Seabed Area”. The Advisory Opinion, which was unanimously adopted, was delivered
by the Chamber on 1 February 2011 and is available at http://www.itlos.org.
12
 Article 35, para. 1, of the Statute of the International Court of Justice, as annexed
to the Charter of the United Nations, 26 June 1945, 1 UNTS xvi.
13
 S. Rosenne (note 2), at 45. This particular aspect of its role is most apparent in the
power it has under Article 290, para. 5, of UNCLOS to prescribe provisional measures
in cases where an arbitral tribunal has yet to be constituted. See infra section C.I for
further discussion.
14
 S. Rosenne (note 2), at 45, notes that Article 290 was also designed to avoid the
ambiguity existing in 1982 regarding the binding force of an order of the ICJ indicating
provisional measures, which was finally settled by that court in LaGrand (Germany v.
United States), Judgment, ICJ Reports 2001, 501–506, esp. para. 102; A. Tzanakopoulos,
Provisional Measures Indicated by International Courts: Emergence of a General
Principle of International Law, 57 Revue hellénique de droit international 53, at 73
(2004), argues that Article 290, para. 6, of UNCLOS represents the “crystallisation” of
a general principle as to the binding force of provisional measures.
15
G. Eiriksson, The International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, at 219 (2000),
argued that the binding nature of provisional measures according to UNCLOS is
reflected in the term “prescription”, which obviated the doctrinal debate existing before
 provisional measures in the itlos1767

UNCLOS, when read together with Annex VI (hereinafter the “ITLOS

Statute”), Article 25, differs markedly from the analogous provision of
the ICJ Statute, Article 41, even though provisional measures indicated
by the ICJ are also binding, as clarified in the LaGrand judgment of
2001.16 It has been argued that the establishment of ITLOS served to
alert the ICJ that another international jurisdiction in the United
Nations system had the express authority to order binding provisional
measures, which perhaps signalled to the ICJ that it should pronounce
definitively on the issue.17 It bears recalling, however, that as early as
1939 the Permanent Court of International Justice had already stated
that Article 41 of its Statute “applies the principle universally accepted
by international tribunals … to the effect that the parties to a case must
abstain from any measure capable of exercising a prejudicial effect in
regard to the execution of the decision to be given and, in general, not
allow any step of any kind to be taken which might aggravate or extend
the dispute”.18 The ICJ in LaGrand referred to this principle as a “related
reason which points to the binding character of orders made under
Article 41”.19

II. The Procedural Framework Established in the Rules of the Tribunal

Although its powers to indicate provisional measures derive from
Article 290 UNCLOS and the ITLOS Statute, especially Article 25, the

the LaGrand Judgment at the ICJ as that court has the power to “indicate” provisional
measures under Article 41 of its Statute.
16
 See F. Orrego Vicuña, The International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea
and Provisional Measures: Settled Issues and Pending Problems, 22 (3) Interna­
tional Journal of Marine and Coastal Law 451, at 452–453 (2007), who suggests that
Article 290 pointed towards a major shift which would crystallise at the ICJ in the
LaGrand decision; R. Wolfrum, Provisional Measures of the International Tribunal for
the Law of the Sea, in: P.C. Rao/R. Khan (eds.), The International Tribunal for the Law
of the Sea: Law and Practice, 173, at 180 (2001); T. A. Mensah, Provisional Measures in
the ITLOS, Heidelberg Journal of International Law 43, at 45 (2002); T. Treves,
Provisional Measures Pending the Constitution of an Arbitral Tribunal, Studi di Diritto
Internazionale in Onore di Gaetano Arangio-Ruiz, 1243, at 1253 (2004), all explain
that whatever the position with regard to orders indicating provisional measures under
Article 41 of the ICJ Statute might have been before and after LaGrand, there has never
been any doubt as to the binding nature of provisional measures prescribed pursuant
to Article 290, para. 6, of UNCLOS. The same “binding” nature of provisional meas-
ures was noted by an ICSID arbitral tribunal in Emilio Agustín Mafezzini v. Spain, Case
No. ARB/97/7, Decision on Request for Provisional Measures of 28 October 1999,
5 ICSID Reports 393.
17
 A. Tzanakopoulos (note 14), at 77.
18
Electricity Company of Sofia and Bulgaria (Belgium v. Bulgaria), PCIJ 1939, Series
A/B, No. 79, 199 (emphasis added).
19
LaGrand (Germany v. United States), Judgment, ICJ Reports 2001, 503, para. 103.
1768 peter tomka & gleider i. hernández

Tribunal was left to frame specific rules for carrying out its functions
under Article 16 of its Statute. In particular, the Tribunal was left free
to develop its own rules of procedure. Proceeding at the time of its
inauguration on the basis of an interim set of Rules prepared by
Committee IV of the Preparatory Commission for the International
Seabed Authority and the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea,
it adopted its own Rules of the Tribunal on 28 October 1997 and has
periodically amended them since.20 The Rules relating to provisional
measures, Articles 89 to 95, lay out a detailed procedure inspired by the
practice of the ICJ,21 but there are some differences of note. The
Tribunal’s Rules specifically establish that the Tribunal, unlike the ICJ,
shall give priority to Applications for the release of vessels or crews
over all other proceedings before it.22 Accordingly, if the Tribunal is
seised of an Application for prompt release of a vessel or crew and of a
request for the prescription of provisional measures, these two types of
proceedings are handled without delay, but separately.23 Further, under
Article 95 of the Rules, parties have an obligation to report to the
Tribunal as to their compliance with any provisional measures pre-
scribed by the Tribunal;24 such reporting is in the form of a report upon
the steps a party has taken or proposes to take in order to ensure
prompt compliance.25

20
The Rules of the Tribunal, most recently amended on 17 March 2009, are available
on ITLOS’ website as Doc. ITLOS/8; T. Treves, The Rules of the International Tribunal
for the Law of the Sea, in: P. C. Rao/R. Khan (eds.), The International Tribunal for the
Law of the Sea, 135, at 159 (2001), has concluded that the Rules of the Tribunal have
their roots in the tradition of the rules concerning proceedings before the International
Court of Justice.
21
 S. Rosenne (note 2), at 76.
22
 Article 112, para. 1, of the Rules of the Tribunal.
23
 S. Rosenne (note 2), at 79, explains that at the ICJ it would fall on the Court in
consultation with the parties to ensure this.
24
This is in contrast with Article 78 of the ICJ Rules of Court, according to which
the Court “may request information from the parties on any matter connected with the
implementation of any provisional measures it has indicated”. A recent, and rare,
example of the ICJ asking the Parties to inform the Court about compliance with its
order may be found in the Case concerning Application of the International Convention
on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination (Georgia v. Russian Federation),
Order, ICJ Reports 2008, 399, para. 149 (D), hereinafter “Application of CERD”;
S. Rosenne (note 2), at 79, recalls that Article 85 of the draft Rules of ITLOS foresaw a
similar provision for ITLOS.
25
 S. Rosenne (note 2), at 79, explains that this provision was of the Tribunal’s initia-
tive (section 3.8). See also ITLOS, Reclamation of Land by Singapore in and around the
Straits of Johor (Malaysia v. Singapore), Order on Provisional Measures of 8 October
2003, ITLOS Reports 2003, 10, hereinafter “Land Reclamation”, 26, para. 104, where
 provisional measures in the itlos1769

Interpretation of the Rules by the Tribunal has been relatively sparse.

In M/V “SAIGA” (No. 2) the Tribunal recalled Article 95, paragraph 2,
and considered that it would be appropriate to authorize the President
of the Tribunal to request further information on the implementation
of the provisional measures prescribed in that order.26 It has followed a
similar practice since,27 suggesting that ITLOS considers such provi-
sion a matter of routine. Rosenne has hinted that it is open to question
whether Article 290 of the Convention intended the Tribunal to have
carte blanche to request reports from parties in cases before it as to
their implementation of orders prescribing provisional measures,28 and
has suggested that it is rather unclear what the Tribunal can do with the
reports it receives, as provisional measures may be prescribed, modi-
fied or revoked only at the request of a party to a dispute and after the
parties have been given an opportunity to be heard.29

III. Jurisdiction Ratione Materiae

Given that proceedings on a request for the indication of provisional
measures may have to be considered before a court or tribunal is fully
satisfied that it has jurisdiction over a given case, these requests neces-
sarily proceed in a manner different from other incidental proceedings.
Accordingly, the special rules of jurisdiction governing requests for
provisional measures tend to be tailored to a particular judicial organ
and to the manner in which its jurisdiction is to be established. In this
regard, the settlement of disputes under UNCLOS is highly specific
and somewhat more tightly regulated than the relatively unsystematic
character of the general law relating to the settlement of international
disputes.
The basic conditions for prescribing provisional measures under
Article 290 UNCLOS must be read against the requirement that the

the Tribunal extended the duty to report to include reporting to the Annex VII arbitral
tribunal unless that tribunal should decide otherwise.
26
 ITLOS, M/V “SAIGA” (No. 2) (Saint Vincent and the Grenadines v. Guinea),
Order on Provisional Measures of 11 March 1998, ITLOS Reports 1998, hereinafter
“M/V ‘SAIGA’ (No.2)”, 2, 24. It was included in the operative provision, 39 (para. 50).
27
 See ITLOS, Southern Bluefin Tuna Case (New Zealand v. Japan; Australia v.
Japan), Order on Provisional Measures of 27 August 1999, ITLOS Reports 1999, 280,
297, hereinafter “Southern Bluefin Tuna”; ITLOS, MOX Plant Case (Ireland v. United
Kingdom), Order on Provisional Measures of 3 December 2001, ITLOS Reports 2001,
91, hereinafter “MOX Plant”; and Land Reclamation (note 25), 28.
28
 S. Rosenne (note 2), at 80.
29
 Id.
1770 peter tomka & gleider i. hernández

court or tribunal must have jurisdiction in accordance with part XV of

that Convention, and that compulsory proceedings must already be
brought under Article 286 UNCLOS. It goes without saying that any
finding as to the prima facie jurisdiction in a given case in no way pre-
judges the question of jurisdiction on the merits and leaves unaffected
the right of the other party to submit arguments against such jurisdic-
tion. As regards the Tribunal specifically, its powers to prescribe provi-
sional measures are described under Articles 21 and 25 of its Statute.
A dispute may be submitted to ITLOS under a specific title of juris-
diction; however, if no such agreement is invoked, the Convention
itself can serve as a title of jurisdiction permitting unilateral applica-
tions to the Tribunal.30 This may prove complex if, under UNCLOS,
some other compulsory dispute settlement mechanism is also compe-
tent, as in that case the Tribunal must also take into account the specific
procedural requirements of that mechanism.
If the parties to a dispute cannot agree as to a mode of settlement by
recourse to section 1, section 2 (Articles 286–296) establishes the
mechanisms which may be designated for dispute settlement. Under
Article 286, the dispute may be submitted at the request of any party to
any of the bodies listed under Article 287 (the ICJ, ITLOS, an ad hoc
arbitral tribunal under Annex VII, and a special arbitral tribunal under
Annex VIII).31 Article 288, described earlier, defines the jurisdiction of
whichever court or tribunal may eventually be seised, as being over the
interpretation or application of UNCLOS or an international instru-
ment “related to the purposes of [UNCLOS]”.32
It may thus be said that the Tribunal can safely adjudge disputes on
the issues falling within the above provisions, and certainly ITLOS
would have jurisdiction over disputes relating to the delimitation of
maritime spaces as described above. An unresolved question relates to
whether the Tribunal would also have jurisdiction over cases, submit-
ted to it by States, having a mixed subject-matter which encompasses
both maritime delimitation and land delimitation or other territorial

30
 Id., at 88.
31
 Should the parties have each chosen a different procedure or neither of them
made a choice arbitration under Annex VII becomes obligatory. A detailed history of
this provision may be found in S. Rosenne, UNCLOS III–The Montreux (Riphagen)
Compromise, in: A. Bos (ed.), Realism in Law-Making, Essays on International Law in
Honour of Willem Riphagen, 169 (1986).
32
 Article 288, para. 1, of UNCLOS.
 provisional measures in the itlos1771

questions.33 Because such mixed territorial/maritime disputes are dis-

putes involving the determination of sovereignty or other territorial
rights over continental or insular territory, the question remains open
whether the maritime aspects of the delimitation retain an exclusively
maritime character or whether these would be inextricably intertwined
with territorial questions falling outside UNCLOS (and ipso facto out-
side the competence of the Tribunal).34

IV. The Operation of Jurisdiction Ratione Materiae in Relation to

Article 290 UNCLOS
Under Article 288 UNCLOS, jurisdiction ratione materiae for ITLOS
may exist over two types of disputes: under paragraph 1, a dispute con-
cerning the interpretation or application of the Convention;35 and
under paragraph 2, a dispute concerning the interpretation or applica-
tion of an international agreement relating to the purposes of the
Convention which is submitted to the competent court or tribunal in
accordance with the agreement.36 Accordingly, Article 290 envisages
two distinct types of proceedings for provisional measures which are
relevant for ITLOS.37 Article 290, paragraph 1, of UNCLOS, which is
applicable to all judicial bodies empowered under Article 287 (the ICJ,
ITLOS, ad hoc arbitral tribunal and a special arbitral tribunal under
Annexes VII and VIII), envisages what Rosenne terms “normal” provi-
sional measures proceedings, modelled on the general practice of the
ICJ and intended to afford protection to the rights of all parties so long
as the proceedings are in progress.38 Proceedings under Article 290,
paragraph 1, of the Convention may be submitted at any time during
the course of proceedings. Paragraph 1 of Article 290 goes further than
merely protecting the rights of the parties: it also allows for provisional

33
 See S. Torres Bernárdez (note 2), at 39–40. This would be especially relevant in
matters submitted through agreements “related to the purposes of UNCLOS”.
34
 S. Torres Bernárdez (note 2), at 39–40, however, considers that the “mere deter-
mination of baselines for the purpose of a maritime delimitation does not deprive a
dispute of its exclusive maritime character. The same conclusion applies to disputes in
which to effect the maritime delimitation concerned account must be taken of the land
frontier as existing between the parties”.
35
 Articles 279, 286, and 288, para. 1, of UNCLOS.
36
 Article 288, para. 2, of UNCLOS.
37
The full commentary on Article 290 UNCLOS may be found in M.H. Nordquist/
S. Rosenne/L. Sohn (eds.), United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea 1982:
A Commentary, hereinafter “UNCLOS Commentary”, Vol. V, at 52 et seq. (1989).
38
 S. Rosenne (note 2), at 46.
1772 peter tomka & gleider i. hernández

measures “to prevent serious harm to the marine environment”, a

wholly distinct purpose, but one which surely makes sense, given that
the Convention devotes its part XII entirely to the protection of the
marine environment as an integral part of the then-new law of the
sea.39
Article 290, paragraph 3, of the Convention also defines the powers
of the Tribunal to prescribe provisional measures differently from
Article 41 of the ICJ Statute: the Tribunal may prescribe, modify or
revoke such measures only when this is requested by a party to the dis-
pute and after the parties have been given the opportunity to be heard.
This is not a negligible point, given that the ICJ may prescribe provi-
sional measures proprio motu, even without hearing both parties;40
conversely, the Tribunal must rely on the initiative of the parties.41
Orrego Vicuña suggests that this limited power provides grounds for
those who believe that the Tribunal cannot prescribe recommenda-
tions but only provisional measures, in contrast to the Tribunal’s deci-
sion in M/V “SAIGA” (No. 2), and that the Tribunal is necessarily
prevented from prescribing ex parte provisional measures, i.e. meas-
ures prescribed without having heard the other party.42
The M/V “SAIGA” (No. 2) case is particularly interesting since both a
provisional measure and a recommendation were made at the same

39
 As R. Wolfrum (note 16), at 176, notes, reference to such justifications for provi-
sional measures adds a new element to their link with the interests of the parties but
also “reflects a change of international law from a mechanism providing for the coor-
dination of States activities to one which also recognises and preserves common values
of the community of States”. Judge Wolfrum transformed this academic view into a
judicial one in his Dissenting Opinion, appended to the Order on Provisional Measures
of 23 December 2010 in M/V “Louisa” Case (No. 18) (Saint Vincent and the Grenadines
v. Kingdom of Spain), hereinafter M/V “Louisa”, at 2, para. 4, available at http://www.
itlos.org.
40
 Exceptionally, due to very particular circumstances, the ICJ in LaGrand indicated
provisional measures without being able to provide the United States, the Respondent
in that case, with the opportunity to be heard: see LaGrand (Germany v. United States),
Provisional Measures, ICJ Reports 1999, 9, esp. 14. The ICJ thus exceptionally departed
from Article 74, para. 3, of its Rules, which provide for a hearing which will afford the
parties an opportunity to present their views.
41
 Article 290, para. 3, of UNCLOS; however, G. Eiriksson (note 15), at 220, empha-
sizes the fact that under Article 89, para. 5, of the Tribunal’s rules it may prescribe
measures different in whole or in part from those requested, and that “it would not
have been in keeping with its judicial function were it to have denied itself the right to
act outside of the strict terms of the request”.
42
 F. Orrego Vicuña (note 16), at 455; T. A. Mensah (note 16), at 48, suggests that
such a reading derives necessarily from a joint reading of paras. 1 and 5 of Article 290.
 provisional measures in the itlos1773

time, and the Tribunal further decided that the obligation to inform it
on compliance referred to both. The issue has therefore been raised as
to whether the Tribunal has the power to issue mere recommendations
and whether it is appropriate to extend the obligation on parties to
inform it about the follow-up or implementation of such recommenda-
tions as well.43 Orrego Vicuña has suggested that in so doing, the Tribu­
nal might be acting outside the scope of its jurisdiction, although this
“would hardly be a justifiable conclusion”.44 Yet, for all this, Article 89,
paragraph 5, of the Rules of the Tribunal does provide for the power
to prescribe measures “different in whole or in part from those
requested”, suggesting that this concern may be misplaced; moreover,
the Tribunal has relied upon this provision to adopt measures not
requested by the parties in three cases.45 Treves has suggested that
Article 89, paragraph 5, of the Rules indicates that “the Tribunal inter-
prets Article 290, paras. 1 and 2, of the Convention as meaning that,
while the Tribunal cannot initiate proceedings for provisional meas-
ures, once provisional measures have been duly requested, the Tribunal
is free to decide measures different from those requested”.46
Although Article 290, paragraph 1, of UNCLOS outlines the general
regime of provisional measures of protection under that Convention,
the ITLOS Statute separately addresses the procedural aspects con-
nected with the constitution and operation of ITLOS and the Seabed
Disputes Chamber. Article 25 thereof expressly links the procedural
rules for ITLOS with Article 290 of the Convention,47 thus confirming
that the Tribunal’s powers to indicate provisional measures derive from
Article 290.
Article 25, paragraph 2 of the ITLOS Statute allows the Tribunal’s
Chamber of Summary Procedure, a reserve organ for when the Tribunal
is not in session or there is no quorum, to indicate provisional meas-
ures; this is a major innovation when compared to the practice of the

43
 F. Orrego Vicuña (note 16), at 453, referring to M/V “SAIGA” (No. 2) (note 26),
Declaration of Judge Vukas, ITLOS Reports 1998, 41–42, paras. 3–4, and S. S. González
Napolitano, Las Medidas Provisionales en Derecho Internacional ante las Cortes y
Tribunales Internacionales, 191 (2004).
44
 F. Orrego Vicuña (note 16), at 454.
45
 ITLOS, Southern Bluefin Tuna (note 27), para. 90. 1. a, b; MOX Plant (note 27),
para. 89. 1.; Land Reclamation (note 25), para. 101.
46
 T. Treves (note 16), at 1251.
47
This was intentional: see UNCLOS Commentary (note 37), Vol. V, 389.
1774 peter tomka & gleider i. hernández

International Court of Justice.48 Measures so prescribed are of course

subject to review and revision by the full Tribunal itself, presumably
once a quorum of its Members (eleven Members of the Tribunal49) has
been attained.50 Interestingly, the context of reviewing provisional
measures so adopted is the only situation in which the Tribunal can
proceed proprio motu.51 This surely makes sense: while no one suggests
that the Chamber of Summary Procedure would necessarily give a
broad interpretation of the measures to be adopted, the fact that they
are subject to review illustrates the need for judicial prudence, as meas-
ures adopted thereby are “still more provisional than any other provi-
sional measure prescribed by the Tribunal”.52
There are only a few cases in which ITLOS has ordered provisional
measures pursuant to Article 290 of UNCLOS. The request for provi-
sional measures in M/V “SAIGA” (No. 2) was originally submitted to
the Tribunal under Article 290, paragraph 5,53 with the merits of the
dispute to be submitted to an arbitral tribunal yet to be constituted
under Annex VII of UNCLOS. However, following an agreement by
the parties that the dispute be deemed to have been submitted to
ITLOS, the request for provisional measures, originally filed under
paragraph 5, was considered duly submitted under paragraph 1 of
Article 290.54 The requests in Southern Bluefin Tuna, the MOX Plant
Case and Land Reclamation were all submitted under paragraph 5 of

48
 Article 41 of the ICJ Statute, when read together with Article 57 of the current ICJ
Rules of Court, requires the Court to be convened forthwith if it is not in session.
Although the President had wider powers in past versions of the Rules, today he or
she may only “call upon the parties to act in such a way as will enable any order
the Court may make on the request for provisional measures to have its appropriate
effects” under Article 74, para. 4, of the Rules. See K. Oellers-Frahm, Article 41, in:
A. Zimmermann/C. Tomuschat/K. Oellers-Frahm (eds.), The Statute of the Inter­
national Court of Justice: A Commentary, 923, at 946 (2006).
49
 Article 13, para. 1, of ITLOS Statute.
50
 Article 25, para. 2, of ITLOS Statute; S. Rosenne (note 2), at 57; according to
Article 91, para. 2, of the Tribunal’s Rules, such review takes place either at the written
request of a party within 15 days of the prescription of the measures or at any time
when review takes place proprio motu: see G. Eiriksson (note 15), at 229–230, for fur-
ther explanation.
51
 Article 91, para. 2, of the Rules of the Tribunal; M. García García-Revillo, El
Tribunal Internacional de Derecho del Mar, 483, at 492 (2005), suggests that this lim-
ited power would also apply to the ICJ when deciding on provisional measures under
Article 290 of UNCLOS.
52
 F. Orrego Vicuña (note 16), at 462.
53
M/V “SAIGA” (No. 2) (note 26), para. 4.
54
 ITLOS, M/V “SAIGA” (No. 2), Order of 20 February 1998, ITLOS Reports 1998,
2, 10; originally announced in ITLOS Press Release No. 13 (28 February 1998).
 provisional measures in the itlos1775

Article 290. These requests were filed in anticipation of an arbitral tri-

bunal eventually being constituted.55 These four cases will be referred
to in the sections which follow below, in order to illuminate the rele-
vant treaty provisions and rules so far as the practice of the Tribunal on
provisional measures is concerned.56

55
 It should be noted that the MOX Plant situation was unique in that the arbitral
tribunal eventually constituted under Annex VII suspended further proceedings on
jurisdiction and merits on 24 June 2003. The Tribunal had observed that certain issues
of European Community law were applicable to the present dispute and that, therefore,
the European Court of Justice might be the more appropriate forum in respect of some
facets of the British-Irish dispute. The arbitral tribunal, “bearing in mind considera-
tions of mutual respect and comity which should prevail between judicial institutions
both of which may be called upon to determine rights and obligations as between two
States”, considered it inappropriate to proceed further with hearing the parties on the
merits of the dispute. See MOX Plant Case (Ireland v. United Kingdom), Procedural
Order No. 3, Suspension of Proceedings on Jurisdiction and Merits, and Request for
further Provisional Measures, 24 June 2003, in the MOX Plant Case (Ireland v. United
Kingdom), PCA Award Series, 47, 52–55, paras. 20–28 (2010). Similarly, in the
Southern Bluefin Tuna Cases (Australia v. Japan; New Zealand v. Japan), Award on
Jurisdiction and Admissibility, 119 ILR 508, 551–554, paras. 56–65 (2000), the Tribunal
observed that the claims of the Applicants, falling primarily under the Convention for
the Conservation of Southern Bluefin Tuna, 10 May 1993, UNTS Vol. 1819 No. 31155,
360, were subject to the jurisdictional limitations imposed by that Convention, which
required the consent of all parties to refer a dispute to arbitration. Finding that this was
not the case, the Tribunal concluded that it lacked jurisdiction to proceed to the merits,
although it did find, at para. 64, that its holding “does not exclude the possibility that
there might be instances in which the conduct of a State Party to UNCLOS and to a
fisheries treaty implementing it would be so egregious, and risk consequences of such
gravity, that a Tribunal might find that the obligations of UNCLOS provide a basis for
jurisdiction”. These findings can be reconciled somewhat with the ICJ’s holding in
Anglo-Iranian Oil Co. (United Kingdom v. Iran), Judgment, ICJ Reports 1952, 93,
where the Court first found it had prima facie jurisdiction and indicated provisional
measures, only to find at the jurisdiction phase that it did not have jurisdiction. See
also Request for Interpretation of the Judgment of 31 March 2004 in the Avena and Other
Mexican Nationals (Mexico v. United States of America), Order on Provisional
Measures of 16 July 2008 and Judgment of 19 January 2009, ICJ Reports 2008, 311, ICJ
Reports 2009, 3. The same situation obtained in Application of CERD (note 24), in
which the ICJ indicated in its Order of 15 October 2008 certain provisional measures
directed to both parties, being of the view that it possessed prima facie jurisdiction, to
conclude subsequently in its Judgment of 1 April 2011, after having heard full argu-
ments by the Parties, that it lacked jurisdiction to hear the case on the merits. Therefore,
the present authors consider that F. Orrego Vicuña’s concern (note 16), at 454, that in
examining prima facie jurisdiction judges are expressing their “intimate conviction” on
the case, is somewhat misplaced.
56
Just before this contribution was submitted for publication, on 24 November
2010, Saint Vincent and the Grenadines instituted proceedings against Spain in a dis-
pute concerning the M/V “Louisa”, flying the flag of Saint Vincent and the Grenadines,
arrested on 1 February 2006 by the Spanish authorities and held since that date. The
Application was accompanied by a request for the prescription of provisional measures
under Article 290, para. 1, of the Convention. In its Order of 23 December 2010,
1776 peter tomka & gleider i. hernández

C. The Criteria for the Prescription of Provisional

Measures

There are three particular aspects of provisional measures in which the

Tribunal has given valuable clarification or made other contributions
which may be of interest for other courts and tribunals: the Tribunal’s
findings on prima facie jurisdiction; on urgency; and on the preserva-
tion of the marine environment. We will discuss these in turn.

I. Prima Facie Jurisdiction

In so far as Article 290 refers to the prima facie jurisdiction of ITLOS
(or of another competent court or tribunal), broadly speaking, it incor-
porates the general law as developed by the ICJ regarding its ­jurisdiction
to indicate provisional measures. As discussed earlier, ITLOS’ prima
facie jurisdiction based on both paragraphs 1 and 5 of Article 290 is
the same low threshold jurisdiction as that required by the ICJ to exer-
cise its provisional measures jurisdiction. Although it has never done
so, it is conceivable that, when considering the prima facie jurisdic­
tion requirement in connection with a request in limine, ITLOS might
conclude as to the existence of a manifest lack of jurisdiction on the
merits, thus following the practice of the ICJ on the matter.57 Although
under paragraph 1 the Tribunal undertakes a judicial function com-
mon to that of other courts and tribunals, under paragraph 5 it is con-
sidering whether it is appropriate to prescribe provisional measures in
a dispute of which the merits will be addressed later by another body;
moreover, the measures it prescribes will be addressed to parties which
have not accepted its jurisdiction in respect of the dispute.58
It is clear that requests for provisional measures are incidental in
nature, always confined to the framework of proceedings on the related
principal case, and that as such they do not have an autonomous

by majority vote of 17 against 4, ITLOS found that the circumstances were such as not
to require the exercise of its powers to prescribe provisional measures. The four Judges
who voted against, Judge Wolfrum amongst them, were of the view that the Tribu­
nal should have declined the request for not having prima facie jurisdiction. In his
10-page Dissenting Opinion, Judge Wolfrum elaborated on the nature and objective
of provisional measures, on the prima facie jurisdiction test and on the exchange of
views, under Article 283, para. 1 of UNCLOS, as a precondition for filing a case under
Section 2 of Part XV of the Convention: see M/V “Louisa” (note 39).
57
 S. Torres Bernárdez (note 2), at 45.
58
 T. A. Mensah (note 16), at 46.
 provisional measures in the itlos1777

procedural life.59 For this reason, it is important for a court or tribunal

to satisfy itself that, at least on the prima facie level, it would have juris-
diction to decide on the merits of the case. ITLOS shares with the ICJ
the notion that it must have prima facie jurisdiction over the merits
of a case before indicating provisional measures. Prima facie juris­­dic­
tion does not require that the court or tribunal concerned defini­
tively satisfy itself that it (or in the case of ITLOS, being seised under
Article 290, paragraph 5, of UNCLOS, that the arbitral tribunal eventu-
ally to be constituted) has jurisdiction on the merits of the case before
indicating provisional measures; however, it does mean that the court
or tribunal ought not to indicate such measures unless the provisions
invoked by the Applicant appear, prima facie, to afford a basis on which
the jurisdiction of the court or the tribunal over the merits of the case
might be founded.60 In the orders issued pursuant to challenges to the
competence of the Tribunal or to that of an eventual arbitral tribunal,
ITLOS has used this formulation consistently.61
Although the findings as to prima facie jurisdiction have been unan-
imous and may be taken to suggest a broad approach to jurisdiction by
the Tribunal, on close examination this proves not to be wholly accu-
rate. The low threshold established in the prima facie jurisdiction test
is unsurprising the question to be decided is not whether there is con-
clusive proof of jurisdiction, but rather whether jurisdiction is not so
“obviously excluded” as to make it extremely unlikely that the merits of
the dispute will actually be considered by the court or tribunal which
will be deciding on the merits.62 For example, in Southern Bluefin Tuna
ITLOS found that prima facie the Annex VII Tribunal would have
jurisdiction to deal with the merits of the case, yet the arbitral tribunal
later constituted finally concluded that it did not have jurisdiction.63

59
 Id., at 38.
60
 See e.g. Fisheries Jurisdiction (United Kingdom v. Iceland; Federal Republic of
Germany v. Iceland), Provisional Measures, ICJ Reports 1972, 9, paras. 15, 17, and 30,
paras. 16, 18; Military and Paramilitary Activities in and against Nicaragua (Nicaragua
v. United States), Provisional Measures, ICJ Reports 1984, 169, para. 25.
61
M/V “SAIGA” (No. 2) (note 26), paras. 29–30; Southern Bluefin Tuna (note 27),
para. 52; MOX Plant Case (note 27), paras. 61–62; Land Reclamation (note 25),
para. 59.
62
 T. A. Mensah (note 16), at 50, citing Interhandel (United States v. Switzerland), ICJ
Reports 1957, Separate Opinion of Judge Lauterpacht, 105, 118–119.
63
The effects of such a finding on the provisional measures will be discussed infra in
section C. II. (“Urgency”).
1778 peter tomka & gleider i. hernández

This does not imply that the arbitral tribunal overruled ITLOS, as the
two bodies would be applying different jurisdictional tests, and that the
arbitral tribunal did not bind itself to ITLOS’ preliminary findings, but
instead based its award on the more extensive arguments and submis-
sions of the parties on the merits.64 Moreover, the arbitral tribunal
explicitly noted that the revocation “did not mean that the parties may
disregard the effects of the Order or their own decisions made in con-
formity with it”.65 In this respect, Judge Wolfrum’s warning that “provi-
sional measures should not anticipate a judgment on the merits”66 has
been heeded. Provisional measures should not constitute an interim
judgment in favour of part of the claim.
Article 290, paragraph 5, of UNCLOS contains a unique residual
power for ITLOS to prescribe provisional measures of protection in a
case in which the competent procedure for the binding settlement of a
dispute falls under Article 288, but the request for provisional meas-
ures is made before the States concerned have duly constituted an arbi-
tral tribunal. The residual power contained in paragraph 5 has been
applied in the Southern Bluefin Tuna, MOX Plant and the Land
Reclamation Cases, which confirms that it is not merely a theoretical
course of action.67 In all of these, the Tribunal confirmed that the stand-
ard for deciding on prima facie jurisdiction is no different from the
standard for deciding on its own jurisdiction.68 The first condition for
the prescription of provisional measures by ITLOS under Article 290,
paragraph 5, of UNCLOS is the filing by a party of a request to that
effect. Such a request may be submitted: (a) at any time if the parties
have so agreed; or (b) at any time after two weeks from the notification
to the other party of a request for provisional measures if the parties
have not agreed that such measures be prescribed by another court or
tribunal.69
In such circumstances, ITLOS may prescribe, modify or revoke pro-
visional measures of protection if it considers that prima facie the tri-
bunal which is constituted would have jurisdiction over the merits and

64
 T. A. Mensah (note 16), at 50.
65
Southern Bluefin Tuna, Award on Jurisdiction and Admissibility (note 55), 555,
para. 67.
66
MOX Plant (note 27), Separate Opinion of Judge Wolfrum, reflecting his aca-
demic writing on this point: see R. Wolfrum (note 16), at 183–184.
67
 F. Orrego Vicuña (note 16), at 459.
68
M. García García-Revillo (note 51), at 502.
69
 Article 89, para. 2, of the Rules of the Tribunal.
 provisional measures in the itlos1779

that the urgency of the situation so requires. Given that from the outset
applicants to ITLOS have always alleged a breach of one or more of the
provisions of the Convention whatever other allegations have been
made, the Tribunal has been able to regard itself or the Annex VII arbi-
tration tribunal as having prima facie jurisdiction, provided of course
that it be satisfied that other conditions of the Convention have been
met.70 The Tribunal does this even when a dispute exists between the
parties as to whether the competent court or tribunal has jurisdiction
over the merits, leaving that question for determination by the compe-
tent court or tribunal.71 However, since in these circumstances ITLOS
is not seised of the merits of the case, Article 89, paragraph 4, of the
Rules of the Tribunal requires a special procedure for the institution of
proceedings for provisional measures, as outlined under paragraph 5
thereunder.72 That procedure is designed so that ITLOS has a first
opportunity for a judicial examination of the claim, even if its conclu-
sions are provisional and are not binding on the court or tribunal seised
of the principal claim.73 In MOX Plant, Southern Bluefin Tuna and Land
Reclamation the Tribunal exercised this residual power to prescribe
provisional measures pending the establishment of the arbitral tribunal
to which the dispute was being submitted.74

70
 See e.g. M/V “SAIGA” (No 2), Provisional Measures (note 26), 37, para. 30;
Southern Bluefin Tuna, Provisional Measures (note 27), 295, para. 63; MOX Plant,
Provisional Measures (note 27), 107, para. 62; Land Reclamation, Provisional Measures
(note 25), 21, para. 59.
71
This practice is in accordance with Article 288, para. 4, of UNCLOS, which gives
compétence de la compétence to the court or tribunal which has been seised once it has
been constituted. In the case of ITLOS, the Court first asserted its power to determine
its jurisdiction in the case before it in the M/V “SAIGA” Case, Case No. 1, ITLOS
Reports 1997, 24–26, paras. 37–45.
72
 S. Rosenne (note 2), at 160–161, describes the procedure succinctly.
73
 Id., at 127, Rosenne maintains that the reasoning of ITLOS on prima facie juris-
diction “cannot be seen as a hint of the possible decision of the arbitral tribunal after
full pleadings”.
74
MOX Plant (note 27), 110, para. 89 (1); Southern Bluefin Tuna (note 27), 297,
para. 90 (1); Land Reclamation, Provisional Measures (note 25), 27, para. 106 (1);
S. Torres Bernárdez (note 2), at 43–44, wonders whether Article 290, para. 5, left room
for the ICJ to exercise a similar residual power to that of ITLOS and indicate provi-
sional measures, but considers that, given that the power of the ICJ to indicate pro­
visional measures is construed in the Statute and Rules of the ICJ on the assumption
that the measures requested or indicated relate to a principal case before the Court, this
is “difficult to visualise”; see also T. Treves (note 16), at 1245, and R. Wolfrum (note 16),
at 174, who concludes that Article 290 of UNCLOS would, if in conflict with Article 41
of the ICJ Statute and to the extent to which it would be applicable, “prevail … under
the principle of lex specialis”, but that Article 41 of the ICJ Statute and the ICJ Rules
would continue to apply to aspects of the prescription of provisional measures not
1780 peter tomka & gleider i. hernández

Other examples are illustrative. In M/V “SAIGA” (No. 2) (Provisional

Measures), the parties disagreed on whether ITLOS had jurisdiction,
despite the fact that they had both agreed to submit the case to it and
that, once seised, the Tribunal should deal with all aspects of the case,
including jurisdictional objections, in a single phase.75 The Tribunal
found that it was sufficient for it to be satisfied that the provisions
invoked by the Applicant appeared prima facie to afford a basis on
which the jurisdiction of the Tribunal could be founded, and that this
was indeed the case.76 In Southern Bluefin Tuna the Tribunal held simi-
larly, adding that under Article 281, paragraph 1 UNCLOS a State Party
is not obliged to pursue procedures under part XV, section 1, when it
concludes that the possibilities of settlement have been exhausted.77

II. Urgency
Urgency is a matter of procedure, relevant to the convening of the
Tribunal if it is not in session when the request is made. However, it is
also a matter of substance in so far as it is amongst the circumstances
considered by the Tribunal in justifying the indication or prescrip­
tion of provisional measures.78 Although urgency is not mentioned for­
mally in Article 290, paragraph 1, of UNCLOS, it can be said to be
implied in the term “under the circumstances” which requires the
competent court or tribunal to consider the individual circumstances
of the case at hand.79 In any event, paragraph 5 of that same Article
expressly provides that “the urgency of the situation” is a requirement
for the prescription of provisional measures by ITLOS when the merits
of the dispute are being submitted to arbitration under Annex VII or
Annex VIII and the arbitral tribunal has not yet been constituted.

covered under Article 290 UNCLOS; see, generally, T. Treves (note 16), 1255 et seq., on
the ICJ and the application of Article 290, para. 5, of UNCLOS.
75
M/V “SAIGA” (No. 2) (note 26), 37, para. 28.
76
 Id., paras. 29–30. For further discussion of the M/V “SAIGA” (No. 2) case see B.
Kwiatkowska, Inauguration of the ITLOS Jurisprudence: The Saint Vincent and the
Grenadines v. Guinea M/V Saiga Cases, 30 Ocean Development & International Law 43
(1999).
77
Southern Bluefin Tuna (note 27), 295, para. 60. This was confirmed in MOX Plant,
(note 27), 107, para. 60; Land Reclamation (note 25), 19, para. 45.
78
 S. Rosenne (note 2), at 136, argues that urgency “is the most important of those
circumstances”.
79
 Id., at 135.
 provisional measures in the itlos1781

Finally, the Tribunal has formally set the requirement for urgency in
Article 89, paragraph 4, of its Rules.
The judges of ITLOS have followed the ICJ in reading in a require-
ment that there must be a finding that the urgency of a matter justifies
the ordering of provisional measures. This urgency seems to be quali-
fied on a case-by-case basis. For example, in M/V “SAIGA” (No. 2), as
the facts unfolded, the most direct measure which had been requested
(the release of the Master and the crew of the ship) became moot as
these persons were indeed released. In the end, the most direct and
important measure prescribed by the Tribunal was an order to Guinea
to refrain from taking or enforcing any judicial or administrative meas-
ure against the ship or the persons concerned pending a final deci­
sion on the merits.80 Although not expressly referring to urgency, the
Tribunal was clearly concerned with the protection of the rights of
the parties which were at issue there.81
Urgency is also implicit in the requirement that in the circumstances
immediate action is necessary and cannot wait until a final decision in
a case, to protect the rights of both parties from irreparable harm.82
Thus, the state of proceedings when a request is made and the esti-
mated period likely to elapse before a decision on the principal claim
will also be elements relevant to assessing the urgency of a matter. In
this respect, urgency has become linked to the gravity of the harm
sought to be avoided by a request for provisional measures. Rosenne
has suggested that a particular question regarding the meaning of
“urgency” arises in the situation where there are proceedings in ITLOS
for the prescription of provisional measures but where ITLOS is not
seised of the merits. In such cases, he suggests that it would normally
not be known when the court or tribunal to which the case is being
submitted would most likely be in a position to act, and thus the ques-
tion arises how long provisional measures prescribed by ITLOS will
remain in force.83
The Tribunal confronted precisely this question in Southern Bluefin
Tuna, where it recalled that under Article 290, paragraph 5, of

80
M/V “SAIGA” (No. 2) (note 26), 39–40, para. 52 (1) (a).
81
 T. A. Mensah (note 16), at 51.
82
 S. Rosenne (note 2), at 135–141, describes the practice of the ICJ with regard to
the criterion of urgency.
83
 Id., at 142.
1782 peter tomka & gleider i. hernández

UNCLOS, provisional measures may be prescribed pending the consti-

tution of the arbitral tribunal agreed upon by the parties if the Tribunal
considers that the urgency of the situation so requires.84 It should also
be noted that the arbitral tribunal constituted under Annex VII in this
case ultimately decided that it lacked jurisdiction, and the measures
were “revoked from the day of the signature of [the] Award”.85 Indeed,
in such circumstances provisional measures indicated by a court or tri-
bunal will have produced their effects from the moment of their notifi-
cation to the parties and “cease to be operative” upon delivery of a
judgment, thus lapsing at the same moment as delivery of the judg-
ment.86 The lapse of provisional measures is prospective; they are not
invalidated or declared void ab initio.87
In MOX Plant, another case in which the Tribunal was called upon
to prescribe provisional measures under Article 290, paragraph 5,
emphasis was again placed on the factual circumstances and whether
these made it necessary to determine whether the prescription of meas-
ures was appropriate as a matter of urgency, which the Tribunal did not
find to exist.88
Finally, the question whether the criterion of urgency is assessed dif-
ferently in requests under Article 290, paragraph 5, arose in Land
Reclamation where, upon Malaysia’s request for provisional measures,
Singapore responded that as the arbitral tribunal was to be constituted
only a month later, there would be no need to prescribe provisional

84
Southern Bluefin Tuna (note 27), 295, para. 63. In his Separate Opinion, Judge
Laing termed this “procedural urgency”: id., 305. In his Separate Opinion, Judge Treves
argued that the requirement of urgency in para. 5 is stricter than that in para. 1, as there
would be no urgency under para. 5 for ITLOS to prescribe provisional measures “if the
measures requested could, without prejudice to the rights to be protected, be granted
by the arbitral tribunal once constituted”: id., at 316, para. 4. For a fuller commentary
on this case see A. Boyle, The Southern Bluefin Tuna Arbitration, 50 ICLQ 447 (2001).
85
Southern Bluefin Tuna, Award on Jurisdiction and Admissibility (note 55), 556,
para. 72.2. It has been argued that it could have come to an end without express decla-
ration: see F. Orrego Vicuña (note 16), 453. It seems that this also occurred when the
International Court of Justice, in its Judgment of 19 January 2009 (note 55), decided
that there was nothing to be interpreted from its Avena Judgment of 2004; nevertheless,
the Court merely noted the breach by the United States of the provisional measures
indi­cated in its Order of 16 July 2008. It made no pronouncements on the conse­
quences of this breach: see Avena Judgment of 19 January 2009 (note 55), 20, para. 53,
21, para. 61 (2).
86
Anglo-Iranian Oil Co. (United Kingdom v. Iran), ICJ Reports 1952 (note 55), 114.
87
Application of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of
Genocide (Bosnia and Herzegovina v. Serbia and Montenegro), Judgment, ICJ Reports
2007, 43, Separate Opinion of Judge Tomka, 349, para. 70.
88
MOX Plant (note 27), 110, para. 81.
 provisional measures in the itlos1783

measures given the short period of time remaining before that date.
ITLOS rejected Singapore’s argument, pointing out that there was
nothing in Article 290 of the Convention to suggest that the measures
so prescribed must be confined to the period ending with the composi-
tion of the arbitral tribunal, and also noted that the provisional meas-
ures it prescribes could remain applicable following the constitution of
an arbitral tribunal.89

III. Prevention of Serious Harm to the Marine Environment

As the objective of preventing serious harm to the marine environ­
ment embodied in Article 290, paragraph 1, of UNCLOS is a criterion
which distinguishes the practice of courts and tribunals vested with
jurisdiction under UNCLOS from that of other comparable bodies
such as the ICJ (in its exercise of its general jurisdiction, not its juris-
diction based on UNCLOS), it deserves brief mention.90 First, it bears
recalling that the prevention of “serious harm” here is not purely an
analogy to the obligation to prevent irreparable harm embodied in the
criterion of urgency; it is a Convention-specific aim relating purely to
the marine environment. Secondly, the use of the disjunctive “or” in
Article 290, paragraph 1, suggests that measures concerning the marine
environment may be prescribed in addition to measures protecting the
rights of the parties; these objectives need not necessarily exclude one
another.91 A more delicate question is, however, whether the preserva-
tion of the marine environment may be justified not only in the interest
of a party to a specific dispute, but also in regard to a more general
interest. Thus far, such measures have always been requested from the
Tribunal by one of the parties to a dispute, although it bears noting that
the parties have also suggested or claimed that the measures requested

89
Land Reclamation (note 25), 22, paras. 66–69. It is to be noted that the Tribunal
also recalled that both parties were under the obligation not to create an irremediable
situation: id., 25, para. 90; T. A. Mensah (note 16), at 47, had earlier suggested that the
constitution of an arbitral tribunal could be a major factor in determining the urgency
of a situation, but that has not proven to be the case.
90
 Although it can be said that the need to prevent serious harm to the marine envi-
ronment may sometimes fulfil the condition that there be urgency, as required under
Article 290, para. 5: see L. D. Nelson, The International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea:
Some Issues, in: P. C. Rao/R. Khan (eds.), The International Tribunal for the Law of the
Sea, 49, at 56 (2001).
91
 F. Orrego Vicuña (note 16), at 457; T. A. Mensah (note 16), at 46, notes that the
ICJ could also prescribe provisional measures to prevent serious harm to the
environment.
1784 peter tomka & gleider i. hernández

are justified in the general interest.92 It remains an open question

whether the Tribunal will, when faced with a request for provisional
measures by a party which does not invoke a general interest, go beyond
such a request in ordering such provisional measures as to preserve the
general interest.
If the general interest was at issue, according to Article 290, para-
graph 4, of UNCLOS the Tribunal would be bound to notify other
States Parties to the Convention which it might consider appropriate,
but this should not be stretched so far as to suggest that such measures
automatically concern a broader, general interest. The better view is
that these measures should be enforced under the supervised informa-
tion of other states.93 Moreover, the Tribunal should studiously ensure
that the measures it may give do not exceed the purpose of provisional
measures in order to reach a broader policy objective, as it has been
criticized for doing in the past.94 Whilst certainly the Tribunal has a
constructive role to play in the clarification of the law which it is
entrusted to apply, the provisional measures phase is certainly not the
appropriate stage for the Tribunal–or any other international court or
tribunal–to dabble in the development of international law. Issues of
substance should invariably be treated in connection with the merits of
a case in order to allow parties to present their views and for the
Tribunal to deliberate properly.

D. Conclusion

By partly drawing inspiration from the International Court of Justice

yet adapting the practices of that court to the exigencies of the Tribunal’s

92
Southern Bluefin Tuna (note 27), 295, para. 69 (contending that the conser­
vation of the living resources of the sea is an element in the protection and preserva­
tion of the marine environment); MOX Plant (note 27), 99, para. 26 (claiming a viola-
tion of the general duty to protect the marine environment embodied in Articles
192–193 UNCLOS); Land Reclamation, (note 25), 21, para. 61; J. Barboza, Provisional
Measures, or the Dangers of being Too Exceptional, in: T. M. Ndiaye/R. Wolfrum/
C. Kojima (eds.), Law of the Sea, Environmental Law and Settlement of Disputes 143,
149–150 (2007), lauds the Tribunal for having taken a “highly preventive” and “cau-
tious” approach in the MOX Plant case. However, he may have overreached in claiming
that the Tribunal’s order on the prevention of harm to the marine environment embod-
ies a community interest, 153, as Ireland had itself invoked the protection of the envi-
ronment in Article 290, para. 1, as its own right.
93
 F. Orrego Vicuña (note 16), at 457.
94
 Id., at 457–458.
 provisional measures in the itlos1785

role under UNCLOS, the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea
has made a valuable contribution to the development of the interna-
tional law governing provisional measures. Although it has been seised
of such requests only five times, it is almost certain that, in an age of
increasing recourse to international judicial bodies in order to resolve
disputes between states, the Tribunal’s contribution will continue to
grow. From the vantage point of The Hague and the International
Court of Justice, this is surely a development to be welcomed, as it
strengthens the confidence of the community of states in the judicial
settlement of international disputes and continues to promote the rule
of law on the international plane.
 Cross-Fertilization between Different
International Courts and Tribunals:
the Mangouras Case

Tullio Treves

A. In the discussion about the multiplication of international courts

and tribunals and its alleged consequence for the fragmentation of
international law, much attention is drawn to divergent assessments of
international law rules in the judgments of different international
courts and tribunals.1 The Tadić saga, involving different views with
respect to international responsibility for acts committed by armed
groups held by the International Court of Justice and by the International
Tribunal for crimes committed in the former Yugoslavia, is the main
example usually referred to.2 Much less attention is drawn to the admit-
tedly less spectacular circumstance of the existence of judgments of
different international courts and tribunals relying on each other and
contributing together, through a process of cross-fertilization, to the
development of international law. Still, this phenomenon is more fre-
quent than that of conflicts between different international courts and
tribunals, and is relevant for the unity of international law. The evolu-
tion of the law concerning the binding effect of provisional measures,
involving the International Court of Justice, the International Tribunal
for the Law of the Sea, the European Court of Human Rights and arbi-
tral and human rights bodies is a prominent example.3

1
 In the vast literature see T. Treves, Fragmentation of International Law: The
Judicial Perspective, in: Comunicazioni e Studi, at 821–875 (2007); more recent contri-
butions include M. J. Aznar Gomez, En torno a la unidad sistémica del derecho inter-
nacional, 49 Revista espanola de derecho internacional, 563–594 (2007); B. Simma,
Universality of International Law from the Perspective of the Practicioner, 20 European
Journal of International Law, 265–297 (2009).
2
For an accurate synthesis of the Tadić case see S. Lamb, Tadić case, in: R. Wolfrum
(ed.), The Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law, Oxford University
Press, especially, paras. 23–24 (2008), online edition http://www.mpepil.com.
3
 T. Treves, Judicial Lawmaking in an Era of “Proliferation” of International
Courts and Tribunals: Development or Fragmentation of International Law?, in
R. Wolfrum/V. Roeben (eds.), Developments of International Law in Treaty Making,
587–620, at 613–615 (2005).
1788 tullio treves

The judgment of 28 September 2010 of the Grand Chamber of the

European Court of Human Rights in the Mangouras case4 is, in my
view, a new valuable addition to the examples of cross-fertilization
between international courts and tribunals. It seems significant to draw
attention to it in an essay in honour of Rüdiger Wolfrum, as it involves,
together with the European Court of Human Rights, the International
Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, to which Rüdiger has dedicated an
immense amount of intellectual, policy and organizational activity as
Judge and as President. The Mangouras judgment is also an interesting
manifestation of a recently emerging set of legal questions, deriving
from the overlap of specialized legal fields: in this case, the law of the
sea and the law of human rights, incidentally another area in which
Rüdiger Wolfrum has left his mark.5

B. Mr. Mangouras was the captain of the ill-fated Prestige, the Bahamian
flag vessel which broke down on 13 November 2002 in Spain’s exclusive
economic zone causing a leak of fuel oil which produced an ecological
disaster (to use the European Court’s expression) on the coasts of
Cantabria and Galicia spreading as far as the French coast. He was
immediately arrested by the Spanish authorities and imprisoned pend-
ing trial for various criminal charges. The investigating judge set bail of
three million euros, and later confirmed it. Mr. Mangouras spent 83
days in custody. He was then released after payment of the bail by the
shipowner’s insurer. Later he was permitted to leave for Greece, his
home country, on condition that the Greek authorities ensured peri-
odic supervision.
Mr. Mangouras brought his case to the European Court of Human
Rights alleging that the setting of the three million euros bail consti-
tuted a violation of Article 5 paragraph 3 of the European Convention
of Human Rights. This article, as interpreted by the European Court of
Human Rights, guarantees the release of detainees if reasonable bail is
posted. Both the Chamber and the Grand Chamber judgments rejected
Mr. Mangouras’ argument that the bail was excessive and not propor-
tionate to his financial circumstances.
Both the Chamber and the Grand Chamber stated that the setting
of bail at three million Euros was not in contravention of Article 5

4
 ECHR, Mangouras v. Spain, Judgment of 28 September 2010, Appl. No. 12050/04.
5
 On this aspect, taking into account the Chamber Judgment in the Mangouras case
of 8 January 2009, see T. Treves, Human Rights and the Law of the Sea, 28 Berkeley
Journal of International Law, 1 (2010).
 the mangouras case1789

paragraph 3. The Court reached this conclusion in light of the “growing

and legitimate concerns both in Europe and internationally in relation
to environmental offences”.6
I will not discuss whether the conclusions reached by the Court were
correct. They certainly were not unanimous. Suffice it to say that seven
of the 17 judges of the Grand Chamber signed a dissenting opinion
stating that the bail set by the Spanish judicial authorities was not com-
patible with Article 5 paragraph 3 of the European Human Rights
Convention because the personal circumstances of the detained person
were not sufficiently taken into consideration.7. Nevertheless, they fully
shared the view of the majority “as to the growing and legitimate con-
cerns, in Europe and more broadly, in relation to environmental dam-
age and the increasing tendency to use the criminal law as a means of
enforcing the environmental obligations imposed under international
law”.8
What seems important for the purposes of the present observations
is how the Court assessed whether the amount of the bail set was com-
patible with Article 5 paragraph 3 of the European Convention. In par-
ticular, it is interesting to see how the Court reached the conclusion
that the Spanish courts were justified in “taking into account the seri-
ousness of the offences in question and the amount of the loss imputed
to the applicant”.9
The Court pointed out that “the facts of the present case–concerning
marine pollution on a seldom-seen scale causing huge environmental
damage–are of an exceptional nature and have very significant implica-
tions in terms of both criminal and civil liability”.10 “In such
circumstances” -continues the Court–“it is hardly surprising that the
judicial authorities should adjust the amount required by way of bail in
line with the level of liability incurred so as to ensure that the persons
responsible have no incentive to evade justice and forfeit the
security.”11

6
 ECHR, Mangouras v. Spain, Judgment of 28 September 2010, Appl. No. 12050/04,
para. 86.
7
Dissenting Opinion of Judges Rozakis, Bratza, Bonello, Cabral Barreto, David
Thor Bjørgvinsson, Nicolaou and Bianku, Mangouras v. Spain, Appl. No. 12050/04,
para. 10.
8
 Id., para. 8.
9
 ECHR, Mangouras v. Spain, Judgement of 28 September 2010, Appl. No. 12050/04,
para. 92
10
 Id., para. 88.
11
 Id.
1790 tullio treves

In order to answer the question whether “where large sums of money

are at stake, a level of bail set solely by reference to the applicant’s
assets would have been sufficient to ensure his attendance at the hear-
ing, which remains the primary purpose of the bail”,12 the Court looked
at the jurisprudence of the International Tribunal for the Law of the
Sea.

C. The Court makes extensive references to the UN Convention

on the Law of the Sea of 1982, as well as to the jurisprudence of the
International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, in the second part of
its judgment containing a review of “relevant domestic and interna-
tional law and practice”, under the rubric “vessels and crews in
international law”. The Court first quotes articles of the Convention
concerning vessel source pollution, pollution arising from maritime
casualties, non-discrimination, monetary penalties and, with regard
to detention of seafarers, Article 73 on the enforcement of laws and
regulations of the coastal state in the exclusive economic zone, and
Article 292 on the procedure for prompt release of vessels and crews.
The Court then turns to the “case-law of the International Tribunal
for the Law of the Sea”. It focuses on the criteria elaborated by the
Tribunal in the prompt release cases it has decided in order to deter-
mine what constitutes a reasonable bond within the meaning of Arti-
cles 73 and 292 of the Law of the Sea Convention. The Court states:
“Hence, it is interesting to examine the approach taken by the Tribunal
in cases relating to the detention of a foreign national by the coastal
State and the fixing of the amount of bail”.13
This statement seems particularly noteworthy as the Court indicates
its openness to the legal reasoning of another international tribunal,
notwithstanding the differences it duly notes. As a matter of fact, the
Court underlines that the prompt release case law of the Law of the Sea
Tribunal concerns detention and release not only of crews but also of
vessels, and that it relates to fisheries violations and not to environ-
mental disasters. More remarkably, the Court stresses that “the
Tribunal, unlike the Court, is tasked with striking a balance between
the competing interests of two States rather than the interests of an
individual and those of a State”.14

12
 Id.
13
 Id., para. 46.
14
 Id.
 the mangouras case1791

The Court then embarks on an accurate examination of the prompt

release judgments of the Tribunal and determines what are, in light of
such decisions, the factors that must be taken into consideration in
order to assess the reasonableness of the bond.15
When the Court reaches the chapter of its part entitled “the Law” in
which it exposes its own reasoning (“the Court’s assessment”), it devel-
ops the views already implied in its examination of the Tribunal’s case
law, and states the following in support of the agreement it manifests
with the approach taken by the Spanish courts: “the Court further
notes that, in deciding what constitutes a reasonable bond, the
International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea also takes into account
the seriousness of the alleged offences and penalties at stake [quoting
the previous paragraph where it had examined the jurisprudence of the
Tribunal]. While conscious of the fact that the Tribunal’s jurisdiction
differs from its own, the Court nevertheless observes that the Tribunal
applies similar criteria in assessing the amount of security, and that the
fact that it has a duty not to prejudice the merits of the case does not
prevent it from making determinations bearing on the merits when
these are necessary for the assessment of a reasonable bond (see in par-
ticular the ITLOS judgment of 6 August 2007 in Hoshinmaru, § 89)”.16

D. It is worth noting that the Court does not consider it necessary to

justify its reliance on the case law of the International Tribunal for the
Law of the Sea. The differences concerning jurisdiction and the balance
of interests the two adjudicating bodies pursue are duly noted, but they
are not seen as obstacles. The Court considers it normal to use the line
of argument developed by another international adjudicating body.
Of course, in abstract terms, there is nothing extraordinary in this. It is
well understood that in international law while previous judgments of
the same and, even more, of another court are not binding precedents,
they can be used as subsidiary means to determine a rule of law under
Article 38 of the Statute of the ICJ.17
It has to be stressed that this is not very frequent, especially regard-
ing references which play an important role in the reasoning of the
referring court or tribunal. In particular, the International Court of

15
 Id.
16
 Id., para. 89.
17
Land Insular and Maritime border (El Salvador and Honduras), ICJ Reports 1992,
601, para. 403.
1792 tullio treves

Justice has shown great reluctance to rely on, and even to refer to, judg-
ments of other international courts, especially when permanent and
still existing. The main exception is the Court’s judgment of 2007 in the
genocide case between Bosnia and Herzegovina and Serbia and
Montenegro. In this case, the Court relied extensively on findings by
the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (herein-
after ICTY) as regards the facts as well as the criminal law qualification
of numerous killings and other crimes. The Court summed up its point
of view as follows: “the Court concludes that it should in principle
accept as highly persuasive relevant findings of fact made by the
Tribunal at trial, unless of course they have been upset on appeal. For
the same reasons, any evaluation by the Tribunal based on the facts as
so found for instance about the existence of the required intent, is also
entitled to due weight”.18
The distinction made between “highly persuasive” value attributed
to findings of fact and entitlement to “due weight” recognized for legal
evaluations was not further developed. It shows, nonetheless, that even
in a case like the genocide one, in which it would have encountered
almost insurmountable difficulties in determining the facts by itself
and perhaps also in applying the criminal law, the Court was reluctant
to go beyond what it considered to be strictly necessary in explaining
its reliance on the decisions of the ICTY.
In its judgment of 30 November 2010 in the Diallo case,19 the Court
confirms and develops its view on the value of the case law of special-
ized courts and tribunals, including semi-judicial bodies. It gives an
interpretation of certain provisions of the UN Covenant on Civil and
Political Rights and of the African Charter for Human Rights, and then
states that “although the Court is in no way obliged … to model its own
interpretation of the Covenant” on that of the Human Rights
Committee, “it believes that it should ascribe great weight to the inter-
pretation adopted by this independent body that was established spe-
cifically to supervise the application of that treaty”.20 It also states that
“it must take due account of the interpretation” of the African Charter
for Human Rights given by “the independent bodies which have been
specifically created … to monitor the sound application of the treaty in

18
Case Concerning the Application of the Convention on the Prevention and
Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (Bosnia and Herzegovina v. Serbia and
Montenegro), Judgment of 26 February 2007, ICJ General List No. 91, para. 223.
19
Ahmadou Sadio Diallo (Republic of Guinea v. Democratic Republic of the Congo),
Judgment of 30 November 2010, available at http://www.icj-cij.org.
20
 Id., para. 66.
 the mangouras case1793

question”, in particular the African Commission on Human and

Peoples’ Rights”,21 and that it “notes” that the interpretation of parallel
provisions of the European and of the American Conventions on
Human Rights by the European and Inter-American Courts of Human
Rights are consistent with the one adopted by the ICJ.22 It seems impor-
tant to recall the general reason given by the Court: “The point here is
to achieve the necessary clarity and the essential consistency of inter-
national law, as well as legal security, to which both the individuals
with guaranteed rights and the States obliged to comply with treaty
obligations are entitled”.23

E. The statements in the Diallo judgment seem to show the beginning

of a consolidation of the trend begun in the genocide judgment as
regards the case law of specialized courts and tribunals relating to their
own fields of specialization. They do not, however, cancel out the
weight of the attitude taken by the ICJ in the last quoted judgment
about the value of judgments of specialized courts and tribunals with
respect to questions of general international law. This attitude is espe-
cially apparent in that part of the judgment in which the Court explains
why it does not intend to follow the ICTY’s well known view, expressed
in the Tadić judgment, that–contrary to the ICJ’s position in the
Nicaragua case–the test of “overall control” is sufficient to make wrong-
ful acts of armed groups imputable to a state. The Court refuses to fol-
low the ICTY and, in explaining why, develops a theory concerning the
possible relevance of judgments of other courts and tribunals: “The
Court observes that the ICTY was not called upon in the Tadić case,
nor is it in general called upon, to rule on questions of State responsi-
bility, since its jurisdiction is criminal and extends over people only.
Thus, in that judgment the Tribunal addressed an issue which was not
indispensable for the exercise of its jurisdiction. As stated above, the
Court attaches the utmost importance to the factual and legal findings
made by the ICTY in ruling on the criminal liability of the accused
before it and, in the present case, the Court takes fullest account of the
ICTY’s trial and appellate judgments dealing with the events underly-
ing the dispute. The situation is not the same for positions adopted by
the ICTY on issues of general international law which do not lie within
the specific purview of its jurisdiction and, moreover, the resolution of

21
 Id., para. 66.
22
 Id., para 67.
23
 Id., para 66.
1794 tullio treves

which is not always necessary for deciding the criminal cases before
it.”24
In this way the Court adopts criteria to determine when judgments
of other courts and tribunals can be given consideration and respect.
These are that the position adopted by the other court or tribunal must
be necessary for its decision and that it must be within the purview of
such a court’s or tribunal’s jurisdiction, emphasizing especially the dif-
ference between courts and tribunals which deal with inter-state dis-
putes and those concerning individuals. In the case of the relationship
between the ICJ and a specialized tribunal, these criteria apply to posi-
tions taken “on issues of general international law”, while the ICJ is
more open as regards positions concerning the field of specialization of
the other court or tribunal.
This position can be criticized as invasive of the other courts’ and
tribunals’ right to determine the scope of their jurisdiction and what is
or is not indispensable for deciding the disputes submitted to them. It
can, nevertheless, also be seen as useful guidance for self-restraint by
all courts and tribunals.25 Be that as it may, reliance by the European
Court of Human Rights on the case law of the International Tribunal
for the Law of the Sea seems compatible with the criteria set by the ICJ.
In the cases relied upon by the European Court, the Law of the Sea
Tribunal was exercising its prompt release jurisdiction and the assess-
ment of the reasonableness of the bonds was indispensable for reaching
its conclusions. Moreover, the determination of whether a bond is rea-
sonable can hardly be qualified as an issue of general international law.
Still, the fact that the European Court of Human Rights did not con-
sider it necessary to develop a theory (or to rely on the ICJ’s theory) on
the relevance of the case law of other courts and tribunals seems indic-
ative of a general attitude which sees reciprocal trust in and reliance on
different international judicial bodies as a positive value. Admittedly,
the situation considered here is of reliance by one specialized court on
the decisions of another specialized court.
It is noteworthy that the European Court, while indicating differ-
ences which could have justified not considering the Law of the Sea
Tribunal’s judgments, has chosen to rely on them. In light of this, the

24
Case Concerning the Application of the Convention on the Prevention and
Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (Bosnia and Herzegovina v. Serbia and
Montenegro), Judgment of 26 February 2007, ICJ General List No. 91, para. 403.
25
 T. Treves, (note 1).
 the mangouras case1795

position taken by the International Court of Justice in its genocide

judgment as regards the Tadić jurisprudence of the ICTY seems to
remain exceptional as it deals with a case in which the ICTY had
unnecessarily decided to diverge from the Court.
While reliance on reasoning by other courts and tribunals should be
seen as the normal manifestation of reciprocal respect between adjudi-
cating bodies which apply international law, it should not be seen as
meaning that divergence between international courts and tribunals is
not allowed. Each court or tribunal is an independent body, based on a
different instrument binding its parties, which do not necessarily coin-
cide with those of other courts and tribunals. Consequently, as the
ICTY said in its Kvocka case, decisions of other international courts are
“necessarily” to be taken into consideration, but a court or tribunal
“may, after careful consideration, come to a different conclusion”.26

F. The relationship between international courts and tribunals emerg-

ing from the Mangouras case is interesting also from a different point
of view. The question of freedom from detention and of reasonable bail
for obtaining his release could have been submitted to the International
Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, and, in fact, if this writer’s information
is correct, that was considered by Mr. Mangouras’ defence.
The special procedure for prompt release of vessels and crews
(including, as emerges from the Law of the Sea Tribunal’s decisions,
commanding officers), although it has been used in questions concern-
ing alleged violations of the coastal states’ rights over the living
resources of their exclusive economic zones, can apply also in cases
where the violation consists of pollution of the sea. This emerges clearly
form Articles 220, paragraph 7, and 226, paragraph 1(b), of the UN
Convention on the Law of the Sea.
If confronted with a request under Article 292 of the UN Convention
on Law of the Sea to release Mr. Mangouras, the International Tribunal
for the Law of the Sea would have had to assess whether the three mil-
lion euro bail set by the Spanish authorities was “a reasonable bond”.
The Tribunal would have had to face the same problem the European
Court has faced, but from a different point of view, namely that of bal-
ancing the interest of the flag state in having the captain of its vessel
freed with that of the coastal state in ensuring that there would be

26
 ICTY, Prosecutor v. Miroslav Kvocka, Appelate Chamber Decision of 23 May 2003,
para. 16.
1796 tullio treves

somebody present within its jurisdiction to meet the requirements of

civil and criminal responsibility. Of course, it is not clear whether the
Bahamas, as the flag state, would have been ready to bring the prompt
release request to the Tribunal, whether it would have allowed the ship-
owner, or perhaps Mr. Mangouras, to bring such request on “its behalf ”
as permitted under Article 292, paragraph 2, of the Law of the Sea
Convention, or whether it would have abstained from taking either of
these positions, making it impossible to trigger the prompt release
proceedings.
Would the Tribunal have considered Mr. Mangouras’ financial
means? Would it have considered, or considered only, the penalties
that might have been incurred in the criminal proceedings? Would it
have considered the possible amount of civil liability? Would it have
taken into consideration the “professional environment” of
Mr. Mangouras, including the insurance involved? Would it have given
importance to the “legitimate concerns” in relation to environmental
offences?
It is, of course, impossible, and would in any case be imprudent, to
answer these hypothetical questions. It can, however, be said that, in
light of the openness of the Tribunal to decisions of other courts and
tribunals, manifested especially through numerous references in its
decisions to judgments of the International Court of Justice, the
Mangouras judgment of the European Court of Human Rights will not
be ignored if a case similar to that of the detention of Mr. Mangouras is
submitted to the Tribunal.
 Die Errichtung des Internationalen
Seegerichtshofes und die Rolle Deutschlands

Gerd Westdickenberg

Es freut mich, zur Festschrift zu Ehren von Rüdiger Wolfrum beizu­

tragen. Als Leiter der Rechtsabteilung des Auswärtigen Amtes und spä­
ter als Botschafter beim Heiligen Stuhl habe ich mit ihm in
verschiedenen Bereichen zusammengearbeitet und ihn als Person,
seine Fachkenntnis und sein weltläufiges Verhandlungsgeschick ken­
nen und schätzen gelernt: im völkerrechts-wissenschaftlichen Beirat
des Auswärtigen Amtes und im Kuratorium des Heidelberger Max-
Planck-Instituts für ausländisches öffentliches Recht und Völkerrecht
sowie im Kuratorium des Max-Planck-Instituts für Kunstgeschichte
Hertziana in Rom. Das Thema dieses Beitrags habe ich aus dem Bereich
gewählt, mit dem Rüdiger Wolfrum als erster deutscher Richter am
neu gegründeten Internationalen Seegerichtshof (ISGH) in Hamburg
in besonderer Weise verbunden ist. Er war in den ersten Jahren, der
besonders wichtigen Phase des Aufbaus des noch jungen Gerichtshofes,
dessen Vizepräsident und ich hatte als Verhandlungsführer der Bun­
desregierung bei den Verhandlungen mit dem ISGH über das Sitz­
abkommen über mehrere Jahre hinweg immer wieder Kontakt mit
Richter und Vizepräsident Wolfrum. Die hilfreiche Rolle, die er damals
als landeskundiger Vizepräsident in Beratung des ersten Präsidenten
des ISGH, Thomas Mensah, gespielt hat, kann nicht hoch genug einge­
schätzt werden.
Der ISGH geht auf das Seerechtsübereinkommen (SRÜ) zurück, das
nach mehreren vergeblichen Anläufen in der Ersten und der Zweiten
Seerechtskonferenz von den Teilnehmerstaaten der Dritten Seerechts­
konferenz nach neun Verhandlungsjahren am 10. Dezember 1982 in
Montego Bay (Jamaika) angenommen wurde. Es trat jedoch erst zwölf
Jahre später am 16. November 1994 in Kraft und verpflichtet die
Vertragsstaaten, ihre Streitigkeiten über Auslegung und Anwendung
des SRÜ friedlich zu regeln. Sollte sich dies als unmöglich erweisen, so
müssen sie auf ein Streitbeilegungsverfahren zurückgreifen, das im Teil
XV, Sektion 2 des SRÜ vorgesehen ist und den Parteien mehrere
Möglichkeiten bietet, u.a. die Anrufung des ISGH.
1798 gerd westdickenberg

Der Gedanke, seerechtliche Streitigkeiten durch Entscheidungen

eines unabhängigen internationalen Gerichtshofes beizulegen, wurde
erstmals 1973 von den USA eingebracht und zwar am letzten Tag
der letzten Sitzung des Meeresbodenausschusses der Vereinten
Nationen (VN) in einem Entwurf über ein Kapitel zur Streitbeilegung.1
Danach sollten alle Streitigkeiten über Auslegung und Anwendung des
geplanten SRÜ auf Antrag einer Streitpartei obligatorisch von einem
Seegerichtshof entschieden werden. Während der Dritten Seerechts­
konferenz war der Gedanke eines umfassenden Streitbeilegungs­
systems als Teil eines Seerechtsübereinkommens von Beginn an wenig
umstritten. Eine auf Initiative der USA gebildete Informal Working
Group on Settlement of Disputes erarbeitete ein Streitbeilegungssystem,
das die Grundlage für alle weiteren Verhandlungen legte, und Prof.
Louis B. Sohn (Harvard University School of Law) leistete im
Wesentlichen die Vorarbeiten für den Entwurf eines Statuts für einen
Seegerichtshof.2 Es beteiligten sich u.a. das Inter-American Juridical
Committee der Organisation Amerikanischer Staaten (OAS) und
besondere Unterstützung fand die Einrichtung eines Seegerichtshofes
bei den lateinamerikanischen Staaten. Als Gründe für die Errichtung
eines speziellen Seegerichtshofes – anstelle oder neben dem IGH –
nennt Renate Platzöder unter Berufung auf verschiedene Quellen3 eine
möglichst einheitliche Interpretation eines Seerechtsübereinkommens,
Schwierigkeiten bei der Begründung einer obligatorischen Zustän­
digkeit des Internationalen Gerichtshofes (IGH), besondere see­
rechtliche Sachkunde der entscheidenden Richter und die fehlende
Möglichkeit für nicht-staatliche Streitparteien, den IGH anzurufen,
sowie ein Misstrauen gegenüber dem IGH bei etlichen, insbesondere
afrikanischen Staaten wegen eines Afrika betreffenden Falles. Auch
habe die „überwiegende Mehrheit der Teilnehmerstaaten der Dritten
Seerechtskonferenz“ vermeint, bei den IGH-Richtern eine Tendenz
zu „klassischen Konzepten des internationalen Seerechts“ und Schwie­
rigkeiten festzustellen, die neuen Trends der Seerechtsentwicklung zu
akzeptieren.4

1
 H. Caminos, in: M. G. Kohen (Hrsg.), Promoting Justice, Human Rights and
Conflict Resolution through International Law, Liber Amicorum Lucius Caflisch, 823–
835 (2007).
2
 R. Platzöder, Der Internationale Seegerichtshof, 10 (1985).
3
 Id., 11 f.
4
 Id.
 die errichtung des internationalen seegerichtshofes1799

Was sieht das SRÜ für den ISGH vor? Die einschlägigen Bestim­
mungen über die Streitbeilegung (abgesehen von denen in Art. 186–
191 zu Meeresbodenstreitigkeiten und Art. 264–265 zu Streitigkeiten
über die wissenschaftliche Meeresforschung) finden sich im Teil XV
(Beilegung von Streitigkeiten) und im Anhang VI (Statut des ISGH).
Danach verpflichtet das SRÜ die Mitgliedstaaten zwar zum Weg einer
obligatorischen Streitbeilegung durch friedliche Mittel, belässt
ihnen aber in Art. 287 Abs. 1 die Wahl unter vier unterschiedlichen
Möglichkeiten: dem ISGH, dem IGH, einem allgemeinen oder einem
besonderen Schiedsgericht. Es sieht also grundsätzlich (Ausnahme:
sofortige Freigaben von Schiffen und Besatzungen, sofern die Parteien
nichts anderes bestimmen, Art. 292) keine exklusive Zuständigkeit
des ISGH vor. Jedoch hat ihm die Generalversammlung der VN in
ihrer Resolution 54/31 vom 16. November 1999 eine „wichtige Aufgabe
und Autorität“ bestätigt. Caminos sieht in seiner Schaffung die
wichtigste Innovation im SRÜ und das Modell für die Errichtung wei­
terer spezialisierter Gerichtshöfe.5 Ein weiterer Grund für die
Bedeutung des ISGH wird aus der Zeit verständlich, als das SRÜ
verabschiedet und der ISGH vorgesehen wurde: beim ISGH wurde
eine besondere Kammer für die Beilegung von Streitigkeiten im
Bereich des Meeresbodens vorgesehen, wo man damals sehr kon­
krete Chancen für die wirtschaftliche Ausbeutung seiner enormen
Ressourcen sah, Chancen, die jedoch zumindest bisher nicht
Wirklichkeit wurden.
Wie ist die deutsche Kandidatur für den Sitz des ISGH entstanden
und was waren die Gründe für die Bundesrepublik Deutschland, sich
mit Schreiben des deutschen Botschafters bei den Vereinten Nationen
vom 29. August 1980 gegenüber dem Vorsitzenden der Dritten
Seerechtskonferenz mit Hamburg als Sitz des zu gründenden ISGH zu
bewerben?
Ganz übereinstimmend wird der damalige Ministerialrat Dr. Uwe
Jenisch vom Ministerium für Wirtschaft und Verkehr des Landes
Schleswig-Holstein als derjenige genannt, der als erster die Idee
hatte, dass Deutschland sich für den ISGH-Sitz bewerben sollte. Er hat
sie als Mitglied der deutschen Seerechtsdelegation bei einer Dele­
gationsbe­sprechung während der achten Session im Frühjahr 1979

 Caminos (Fn. 1), 829.

5
1800 gerd westdickenberg

eingebracht.6 Auf offizieller, staatlicher Ebene wurde der Vorschlag

zuerst auf der Konferenz der norddeutschen Küstenländer am 10.
April 1980 behandelt – angeregt vom Land Schleswig-Holstein – und
sodann vom Hamburger Senat in der Überzeugung aufgegriffen7, der
internationale Handels- und Schifffahrtsplatz Hamburg, zudem mit
Jahrhunderte alter Tradition in Seehandel und Rechtspflege, werde alle
Voraussetzungen erfüllen.
Noch im April 1980 wandte sich der Senator der Hamburger Behörde
für Wirtschaft, Verkehr und Landwirtschaft, Jürgen Steinert, an den
Bundesminister des Auswärtigen mit der Bitte, auf der nächsten
Sitzung der Dritten Seerechtskonferenz im Sommer die Kandidatur
Hamburgs als Sitz des ISGH einzubringen. Die Kandidatur begründete
er damit, dass Deutschland kaum internationale Organisationen und
keine Institution der VN auf seinem Boden habe. Mit seinen Aufgaben
im Rahmen der friedlichen Streitbeilegung passe der ISGH gut zur
deutschen Außenpolitik. Er bedeute auch eine Aufwertung der deut­
schen und kontinentaleuropäischen Völkerrechtswissenschaft. Als
bedeutendster deutscher Seehafen, aber auch Heimat zahlreicher
Institute, die sich dem internationalen Recht, der Weltwirtschaft und
den Meeresfragen widmen, eigne sich Hamburg ganz besonders als
Sitz des ISGH. Zudem habe die Stadt Erfahrung in der Ausrichtung
von internationalen seerechtlichen Konferenzen.8 Am 5. August
bekräftigte der Erste Bürgermeister Hamburgs, Hans-Ulrich Klose, in
einem Schreiben an Außenminister Hans-Dietrich Genscher die Bitte
um Unterstützung für die Hamburger Kandidatur.9 Sie fand Gehör und
so erklärte der Leiter der deutschen Delegation zur Seerechtskonferenz,
Botschafter Herbert Dreher, am 25. August 1980, seine Delegation
unterbreite die Kandidatur Hamburgs als Sitz des ISGH.10 Vier Tage
später wiederholte er seine mündliche Ankündigung in einem

6
Platzöder (Fn. 2), 59. In einem Telefonat mit mir am 2. Dezember 2009 hat er das
bestätigt und darauf hingewiesen, dass sein Gedanke in der Delegation nicht nur auf
Zustimmung, sondern mehr noch auf Skepsis gestoßen sei – nicht zuletzt deshalb, weil
damit „alles wieder durcheinander gebracht“ werde, nachdem sich seit längerem drei
Kandidaturen verfestigt gehabt hätten. Ermutigt habe er sich aber u.a. durch den
Verband Deutscher Reeder gesehen, mit dessen Geschäftsführer Kröger er sich – wie
auch mit anderen – vorher abgestimmt habe.
7
 A. Daven/U. Jenisch, Hamburg als Sitz des Internationalen Seegerichtshofs, 13
Europa-Archiv 415 (1982).
8
Platzöder (Fn. 2), 60.
9
 Id., 61.
10
Vgl. UN Doc. A/CONF.62/SR.135 vom 5. September 1980.
 die errichtung des internationalen seegerichtshofes1801

Schreiben11 an den Präsidenten der Seerechtskonferenz, Shirley

Hamilton Amerasinghe, und bat um Nennung Deutschlands zusam­
men mit den drei anderen Staaten, die eine Bewerbung erklärt hatten:
das Vereinigte Königreich für die Bermudas, Jugoslawien für Split und
Portugal für Lissabon. Aus konferenztechnischen Gründen konnte
dies aber erst im Frühjahr 1981 während der nächsten Session der
Konferenz geschehen, nachdem der deutsche Delegationsleiter mit
Schreiben vom 18. März an den Präsidenten der Seerechtskonferenz
die Hamburger Kandidatur erneut eingebracht hatte.
Dieses Schreiben war begleitet von einem Aide Mémoire12, in dem
u.a. folgende Gründe für die Kandidatur aufgezählt wurden:
– Die Bundesregierung habe stets den umfassendsten Umfang an Ins­
trumenten für die friedliche Streitbeilegung empfohlen, insbeson­
dere internationale Gerichte.
– Deutschland habe von Beginn an der Arbeit der VN hohe Priorität
beigemessen und sich um eine konstruktive Rolle bemüht – sowohl
durch seine regelmäßigen Beiträge als auch durch die Beteiligung an
den Tätigkeiten der VN.
– Deutschland als Land mit kurzer Küstenlinie gehöre zur Gruppe
geographisch benachteiligter Staaten. Es gewinne nichts durch eine
Erweiterung oder Neuaufteilung der Seegebiete. Dennoch habe es
von Beginn an eine konstruktive Rolle gespielt in der Erkenntnis der
Notwendigkeit einer Anpassung des Seerechts an die politischen
und wirtschaftlichen Gegebenheiten.
Im gemeinsamen Vorwort einer Werbebroschüre (in den sechs offi­
ziellen VN-Sprachen) für Hamburg als Sitz des ISGH wiederholten
und bekräftigten der Erste Bürgermeister Hamburgs, Hans-Ulrich
Klose, und Bundesaußenminister Hans-Dietrich Genscher diese
Argumentation. Die Förderung internationaler Zusammenarbeit, wo
immer möglich, sei das vorrangige Ziel deutscher Außenpolitik.
Deutschland sähe seine Bemühungen um ein umfassendes System
friedlicher Streitbeilegung im Rahmen des internationalen Seerechts
durch die Errichtung des ISGH in Deutschland anerkannt. Hamburg
könne als Jahrhunderte alter kosmopolitischer Hafen und als
Handelszentrum auf eine vielfältige, lebendige Tradition maritimen

11
Vgl. UN Doc. A/CONF.62/WP.10/Rev.3/Corr.3 vom 9.Oktober 1980.
12
Platzöder (Fn. 2), Anhang 1, 124.
1802 gerd westdickenberg

Handels und der Rechtsprechung verweisen. Die Stadt sei zudem viel­
fach in der Vergangenheit als Schiedsrichter bei internationalen
Streitigkeiten angerufen worden.13
Verschiedentlich wurde auch ganz allgemein ein wirtschaftlicher
Nutzen für Hamburg und die strukturschwache Küstenregion als
Vorteil genannt, ohne diesen näher zu beziffern. Die Gründe für eine
Kandidatur Hamburgs, die über den Stadtstaat und die Region hinaus­
gehen und die Bundesrepublik Deutschland insgesamt betreffen,
sind insbesondere im außenpolitischen, genauer im VN-spezifischen
Bereich zu sehen. Zum Zeitpunkt der Bewerbung war die Bundes­
republik Deutschland erst acht Jahre Mitglied der Vereinten Nationen
und hatte keine Institution aus der VN-Familie auf ihrem Territorium.
Gegen eine Bewerbung, deren Chancen in der Tat unsicher waren14,
wurden u.a. folgende Punkte ins Feld geführt: zum einen Befürchtungen,
dass ein Staat mit kurzer Küstenlinie, zudem nicht als traditionelle
Seefahrernation bekannt und erst relativ junges VN-Mitglied, wenig
Chancen bei einer Kandidatur habe; zum anderen, dass – dahingestellt,
wie stark der wirtschaftliche Nutzen letztlich ausfallen würde –
zunächst von Hamburg und Deutschland finanzielle Lasten übernom­
men werden müssten. Denn es war üblich, dass VN-Organisationen
bei einer Neuansiedlung vom Gastland das Grundstück oder das
Gebäude oder beides kostenlos zur Verfügung gestellt, u.U. noch wei­
tergehend besondere Konditionen beim Unterhalt eingeräumt beka­
men. Das hatte sich z.B. in Wien und in Nairobi gezeigt.
Es gab darüber hinaus aber auch noch später, sogar nach der Wahl
Hamburgs, in der deutschen innenpolitischen Diskussion gewisse
Vorbehalte gegen bestimmte Aspekte der Entscheidung für Hamburg
als ISGH-Sitz. Sie hatten ihre Ursache in den als unbefriedigend abge­
lehnten Regelungen des Tiefseebergbaus im SRÜ. So meinte der
Hamburger CDU-Bundestagsabgeordnete Jürgen Echternach 1984
z.B. im Deutschen Bundestag15, die Entscheidung für Hamburg sei
„von Anfang an als Lockspeise für die Bundesrepublik“ gedacht gewe­
sen. Man sei auch in Zukunft bereit, Gastgeber dieses „Seegerichtes der
Dritten Welt“ zu sein, allerdings lasse man sich damit auch nicht
erpressen.

13
Vgl. z.B. Platzöder (Fn. 2), Anlage 2, 125.
14
Vgl. Daven/Jenisch (Fn. 7), 418.
15
 Stenographisches Protokoll der 109. Sitzung der 10. Wahlperiode am 7. Dezember
1984, 8141.
 die errichtung des internationalen seegerichtshofes1803

Die in der Sommer-Session 1981 angestrebte Finalisierung des

Entwurfs des SRÜ erwies sich als unmöglich. Es wurde unter
den Delegationen der Dritten Seerechtskonferenz darüber gestritten,
ob man angesichts dessen überhaupt eine Entscheidung in der
Sitzfrage sowohl für die Meeresbodenbehörde als auch für den ISGH
fällen könne. Die Vorsitzenden der Regionalgruppen „Asien“, „
Arabische Staaten“, „Osteuropa“ und „Westeuropäische Staaten und
andere“ votierten für Vertagung, wohingegen die Regionalgruppen
„Lateinamerika“ und „Afrika“16 sich für eine Abstimmung ausspra­
chen, die dann u.a. von Mexiko beantragt 17 wurde. Am 21. August
1981 wurde der Antrag angenommen (allerdings dahingehend einge­
schränkt, dass die Abstimmung lediglich ein Hinweis und nicht eine
formelle Entscheidung sei; die Kandidaten hatten für sich Bindung­
swirkung anerkannt). Noch am gleichen Tag wurde über die Sitzfrage
abgestimmt. Nachdem das Vereinigte Königreich bereits zu einem
früheren Zeitpunkt die Kandidatur der Bermudas zurückgezogen
hatte, standen im ersten Wahlgang drei Kandidaten für den ISGH zur
Wahl: Hamburg, Lissabon und Split. Hamburg und Split erhielten
67 respektive 59 Stimmen und kamen in die angesichts verfehlter
einfacher Mehrheit erforderliche Stichwahl, die dann mit 78 Stimmen
zugunsten Hamburgs ausfiel (Split bekam 71).18
Bereits vor der Abstimmung hatte man sich – so eine VN-
Presseerklärung vom 31. August 198119 – nach einer längeren
Diskussion darauf geeinigt, dass der Sitzstaat auch Mitglied des SRÜ
sein müsse, anderenfalls müsse ein neuer Kandidat gewählt werden. In
seiner einleitenden Bemerkung („introductory note“) zum SRÜ-
Entwurf vom 28. August 1981 verweist der Konferenzpräsident auf
diese Bedingung („the decision on the sites … were taken by the informal
plenary subject to the requirement that the States specified should have
ratified the Convention by the time of its entry into force… .“). Hierauf
nimmt die Nr. 38 der Schlussakte der Dritten Seerechtskonferenz
Bezug, die auch von der Bundesrepublik Deutschland gezeichnet
wurde.
Der Hamburger Senat und die Bundesregierung durften sich über
diesen von manchen anfangs nicht erwarteten und jedenfalls in seiner

16
 Laut Jenisch zeigten insbesondere schwarzafrikanische Staaten vielfach Sympa­
thien für Hamburg als ISGH-Sitz.
17
Vgl. Daven/Jenisch (Fn. 7), 416.
18
Vgl. id., 417.
19
VN-Presseerklärung SEA/457 vom 31. August 1981, 15.
1804 gerd westdickenberg

Eindeutigkeit überraschenden Erfolg freuen. Er ist nicht zuletzt einer

intensiven Wahlkampagne zu verdanken: seitens der Bundesregierung
z.B. durch zwei weltweite Demarchen-Aktionen der deutschen Aus­
landsvertretungen, aber auch durch Bundeskanzler Helmut Schmidt,
der bei offiziellen Gesprächen für die Hamburger Kandidatur warb;
seitens des Hamburger Senats z.B. durch einen Besuch des Ersten
Bürgermeisters Hans-Ulrich Klose vom 18.–21. März 1981 in New
York u.a. mit einem werbewirksamen Empfang, aber auch durch eine
Verstärkung der deutschen Delegation bei der Seerechtskonferenz mit
zwei Hamburger Delegierten.20 Mit einer Entschließung vom 11.
Februar 1982 begrüßte der Deutsche Bundestag die Entscheidung
zugunsten Hamburgs.21
Bei der Annahme des SRÜ am 10. Dezember 1982 zählte die
Bundesrepublik Deutschland dann zwar zu den 140 Staaten, die die
Schlussakte, nicht aber zu den 117 Staaten, die das SRÜ zeichneten.22
Ausschlaggebend hierfür waren nicht das System der friedlichen
Streitbeilegung oder andere Bestimmungen des SRÜ, sondern aus­
schließlich die Bestimmungen im Teil XI, die das Meeresbodenregime
betrafen. Die einschlägig mit dem Aufbau des ISGH befassten deut­
schen Behörden – insbesondere das Auswärtige Amt (AA) und die
Bundesministerien für Bau (BMBau), Finanzen (BMF), Justiz (BMJ),
Verkehr (BMV) sowie der Hamburger Senat – im „Arbeitskreis ISGH“
(gegründet am 25. August 1982) waren unterschiedlicher Ansicht, wel­
che Konsequenzen sich aus dieser Entscheidung für die Vorbereitungen
zur Errichtung des ISGH ergaben. So drang das BMF23 darauf, dass
die Bundesrepublik Deutschland keine Erklärung zu finanziellen
Verpflichtungen im Zusammenhang mit dem ISGH abgeben dürfe;
denn es stehe ja noch nicht fest, ob Deutschland das SRÜ zeichnen
werde und somit Hamburg Sitz des ISGH werden könne. Demge­
genüber meinte u.a. das AA24, mit der Kandidatur Hamburgs sei

20
Zu den deutschen Bemühungen um die Kandidatur insgesamt vgl. Daven/Jenisch
(Fn. 7), 419.
21
 Stenographisches Protokoll der 86. Sitzung der 9. Wahlperiode am 11. Februar
1982, 5210C.
22
Wie Deutschland hatten z.B. die USA, das Vereinigte Königreich, Italien und
Japan das Übereinkommen nicht gezeichnet, Staaten wie z.B. Frankreich, die
Niederlande und Griechenland hingegen hatten das Übereinkommen bereits
gezeichnet.
23
 Schreiben von Referat V B 3 vom 26. Januar 1983 an den Arbeitsstab 50 des AA,
Politisches Archiv des AA (PA/AA), Bd. 193 991.
24
 Antwortschreiben des Arbeitsstabs 50 vom 16. Februar 1983, PA/AA,
Bd. 193 991.
 die errichtung des internationalen seegerichtshofes1805

Deutschland allgemeine Verpflichtungen zur Vorbereitung der

Einrichtung des ISGH in Hamburg eingegangen, diese seien lediglich
noch nicht finanziell konkretisiert. Zudem: die Bundesregierung
habe keine Entscheidung dahingehend getroffen, dem SRÜ endgültig
fernzubleiben.
Unbeirrt hiervon unterrichtete ein Vertreter der Hamburger
Baubehörde eine Arbeitsgruppe des VN-Sekretariats im März 1983 in
New York über die bereits erfolgten Vorbereitungen Hamburgs zur
Errichtung des ISGH (u.a. Identifizierung eines großzügigen
Grundstücks an der Elbchaussee als endgültige und einer Liegen­
schaft in der Wexstraße als vorübergehende Unterbringung), die
die Hansestadt auf „eigenes Risiko“ begonnen hatte.25 Bei diesen
Gesprächen übermittelten die VN-Beamten erste Anhaltspunkte für
den Personal-, Raum- und Ausrüstungsbedarf des ISGH. Gleichzeitig
führte der Hamburger Erste Bürgermeister Klaus von Dohnanyi ein
Gespräch mit dem VN-Generalsekretär Perez de Cuellar, bei dem ers­
terer gegenüber der Presse unterstrich, dass Hamburg an den
Voraussetzungen für die Errichtung des ISGH weiterarbeite. Er gehe
davon aus, dass die Zeichnung des SRÜ durch Deutschland so rechtzei­
tig erfolgen werde, dass der ISGH in Hamburg seinen Sitz nehmen
könne.26
Auf eine schriftliche Kleine Anfrage (Drucksache 11/481) vom 29.
März 1983 antwortete der Hamburger Senat u.a., „die Wahl Hamburgs
als Sitz des Internationalen Seegerichtshofes gehört zu den günstigen
Konferenzergebnissen (Anm.: des SRÜ) und sollte in seiner Bedeutung
nicht unterschätzt werden“. Er qualifizierte daran anschließend sein
Eintreten für die Unterzeichnung des SRÜ durch die Bundesregierung
wie folgt: „Der Senat setzt sich für die Unterzeichnung der Konvention
(Anm.: des SRÜ) nicht einseitig im Hinblick auf den Seegerichtshof
ein, sondern in der Überzeugung, dass die Konvention zahlreiche für
die Bundesrepublik Deutschland und ihre Wirtschaft eindeutig akzep­
table Regelungen enthält“. Die Frage, was geschehen würde, falls
Deutschland das SRÜ nicht zeichne und ihm bis zum Inkrafttreten des
SRÜ (12 Monate nach der Ratifizierung durch den 60. Staat) nicht bei­
trete, bewegte auch die Hamburger Medien.27

25
Drahtbericht Nr. 499 der deutschen VN-Vertretung New York vom 15. März
1983, PA/AA, Bd. 193 991.
26
Dpa/lno vom 16. März 1983, 19 Uhr 37.
27
Z.B. „Hamburg Aktuell“ des NDR 1 vom 7. November 1983 sowie vom 14.
September 1984, PA/AA, Bd. 193 992.
1806 gerd westdickenberg

Die im „Arbeitskreis ISGH“ vertretenen Ressorts kümmerten sich

zu dieser Zeit um Fragen wie z.B. die Federführung innerhalb der
Bundesregierung, wer Bauherr für das Gebäude des ISGH sein sollte,
welches Ressort Mittel im Bundeshaushalt (zur Entlastung Hamburgs,
das für die ersten Planungen in Vorlage getreten war) einstellen müsse
und wie viel (es ging zunächst um sechs Mio. DM). Denn trotz der
Skepsis bei einigen Beteiligten, inwieweit Hamburg schließlich Sitz des
ISGH werden würde, war man sich im Arbeitskreis insofern einig, dass
Deutschland das fortbestehende Interesse an Hamburg als Sitzstaat
auch nach außen deutlich machen müsse.28 Deshalb plante man eine
Einladung von VN-Experten nach Hamburg noch vor der Sitzung der
VN-Vorbereitungskommission im März/April 1984. Sie sollten einen
Eindruck von dem ins Auge gefassten Grundstück und Gelegenheit zu
Gesprächen über technische Einzelheiten erhalten. Als Grundstück
war ein 28.000 qm großes, parkähnliches Grundstück um die „Villa
Schröder“ an der Elbchaussee in Hamburg-Nienstedten im Eigentum
der Bundesrepublik Deutschland ins Auge gefasst worden. Schließlich
kam vom 11.–13. September 1984 ein Besuch des Sonderbeauftragten
des VN-Generalsekretärs für Seerecht, Under Secretary General (USG)
Satya Nandan, mit einer Delegation zustande, in dessen Verlauf er die
Örtlichkeiten für den endgültigen Sitz des ISGH und die Zwischen­
unterbringung bis zur Vollendung des Baus besichtigte. Der zuständige
Hamburger Senator, Volker Lange, fasste nach dem Besuch das
Ergebnis dahingehend zusammen, Hamburg habe „gute Karten“, Sitz
des ISGH zu werden.29
Ein Beschluss des Bundeskabinetts nur zwei Monate später schien
diese Einschätzung jedoch Makulatur werden zu lassen. Am 27.
November 1984 entschied es nämlich, das SRÜ nicht zu zeichnen. In
einem Schreiben vom 18. Dezember 1984 erläuterte der Chef des
Bundeskanzleramtes, Wolfgang Schäuble, dem Hamburger Ersten
Bürgermeister Klaus von Dohnanyi die Entscheidung.30 Ausschlag­
gebend für diese im Kabinett gefasste Entscheidung31 seien die im SRÜ

28
Drahterlass des AA vom 2. März 1984 an die VN-Vertretung in New York, PA/
AA, Bd. 193 992.
29
Dpa/lno vom 14. September 1984, 10 Uhr 57.
30
PA/AA, Bd. 193 992.
31
Zumindest der Außenminister hatte dagegen votiert; vgl. Stenographisches
Protokoll des Deutschen Bundestages der 109. Sitzung der 10. Wahlperiode am 7.
Dezember 1984, 8144.
 die errichtung des internationalen seegerichtshofes1807

vorgesehenen Regelungen für den Tiefseebergbau gewesen, die als

unvereinbar mit den ordnungs- und wirtschaftspolitischen Vorstel­
lungen der Bundesregierung angesehen würden. Die Regelungen der
völkerrechtlichen Interessen u.a. im Bereich Meereszonen, Meeres­
forschung, Schifffahrt und friedliche Streitbeilegung hingegen seien
insgesamt positiv bewertet worden. Zugleich unterstrich er, dass der
Beschluss, das SRÜ nicht zu zeichnen, keine Entscheidung hinsichtlich
einer späteren evtl. Ratifizierung des SRÜ durch Deutschland sei. Die
Bundesregierung werde sich weiterhin darum bemühen, gemeinsam
mit anderen Staaten darauf hinzuwirken, dass Deutschland an dem
weltweiten Übereinkommen teilnehmen könne. Selbstverständlich –
so betonte er – werde die Bewerbung für Hamburg aufrecht erhalten.
Dies griff von Dohnanyi in seinem Antwortschreiben vom 6. März
1985 dankend auf und forderte, dass durch die Fortsetzung der
Vorberei­tungsarbeiten für den ISGH die Ernsthaftigkeit dieser Aussage
nach außen erkennbar gemacht werde.32
Die Problematik, dass Deutschland das SRÜ noch nicht gezeichnet
hatte, wurde – so ein Bericht der deutschen Delegation von der dritten
Sitzung der Seerechtsvorbereitungskommission in Kingston33 – bis
dahin bei den Beratungen der Kommission offiziell nicht erwähnt, weil
es weder im Plenum der Vorbereitungskommission noch in der für
den ISGH zuständigen Sonderkommission 4 zu einer allgemeinen
Aussprache gekommen sei. Allerdings sei die Delegation schon ver­
schiedentlich – so u.a. vom Vorsitzenden der Sonderkommission 4,
Gunter Görner (Deutsche Demokratische Republik), aber auch von
USG Satya Nandan – bilateral darauf angesprochen worden, weil sich
sowohl politisch als auch praktisch Probleme bei der Vorbereitung der
Errichtung des ISGH ergeben würden.34 Allerdings müsse man konsta­
tieren, dass vorerst – Ratifizierung von 60 Staaten noch in weiter Ferne
– die Rechtslage zu Gunsten Deutschlands spreche. Im Verlauf der
dritten Sitzung wurde die Angelegenheit dann doch noch vom sowje­
tischen Delegierten angesprochen: seine Regierung wie die auch

32
PA/AA, Bd. 193 992.
33
Drahtbericht Nr. 40 der Botschaft Kingston (es handelt sich um Delega­
tionsberichte, sie werden aber der Botschaft zugerechnet) vom 19. März 1985, PA/AA,
Bd. 193 992.
34
Jenisch wies in einem Telefonat am 2. Dezember 2009 darauf hin, dass Botschafter
Görner inoffiziell Sympathie für Hamburg als Sitz habe erkennen lassen, wenn er auch
offiziell als Vertreter seiner Regierung skeptisch bis kritisch hätte reagieren müssen.
1808 gerd westdickenberg

anderer Staaten sei beunruhigt angesichts der umfangreichen

Vorbereitungsarbeiten, die die Errichtung des ISGH erfordere. Auf
Anregung des Vertreters der Mongolei35 wurde eine Studie über die mit
dem Sitz des ISGH verbundenen Fragen angefordert, die dann vom
VN-Sekretariat in Angriff genommen wurde.
Die Bundesregierung nutzte einen Besuch von Bundesver­
kehrsminister, Werner Dollinger, in New York im Oktober 1985 und
sein Gespräch mit USG Satya Nandan dazu, ihre Position dahingehend
zu erläutern, dass sie sich um ein umfassendes und allgemein akzepta­
bles Übereinkommen, und zwar in allen Teilen, bemühe und ihre
Entscheidung, das SRÜ zunächst nicht zu zeichnen, keine Ablehnung
des SRÜ in toto bedeute, sondern sich auf den Abschnitt zum
Tiefseebergbau beziehe. Ein Zeitpunkt für das Inkrafttreten des SRÜ
sei noch gar nicht abzusehen. Es werde jedenfalls noch erhebliche Zeit
dauern, bis der ISGH etabliert werden könne. Dennoch habe die
Bundesregierung bereits Vorbereitungen für die Planung eines
Gerichtsgebäudes getroffen. Sie werde diese Vorbereitungen fortset­
zen.36 Im Vorfeld dieses Besuches einigten sich die Ressorts darauf,
dass das BMV – als koordinierendes Ministerium in Sachen ISGH und
ohne damit endgültig die ungeklärte Zuständigkeit innerhalb der
Bundesressorts zu entscheiden – sich um einen zunächst noch offenen
Haushaltstitel für die weiteren Vorarbeiten bemühen solle, um nach
außen das deutsche Festhalten an Hamburg als Sitz des ISGH glaub­
würdig deutlich zu machen.37
Während der vierten Sitzung der Vorbereitungskommission im
Frühjahr 1986 drängte der sowjetische Vertreter in der Sonder­
kommission 4 erneut auf eine baldige Klärung der Sitzfrage. Der ISGH
müsse spätestens sechs Monate nach Inkrafttreten des SRÜ funktions­
fähig sein. Er ging so weit zu fordern, dass angesichts der deutschen
Haltung die Vorbereitungskommission jetzt überlegen müsse, den
Sitz von Hamburg in eine andere Stadt zu verlegen.38 Dies wies der
deutsche Vertreter zurück – immer noch lediglich Beobachter, da
Deutschland das SRÜ nicht gezeichnet hatte – unter Hinweis auf die

35
Vgl. Schreiben des Chefs des Bundeskanzleramtes vom 19. April 1985 an den
Hamburger Ersten Bürgermeister, PA/AA, Bd. 193 992.
36
 So ein zwischen den Ressorts abgestimmtes Papier für die Gespräche bei den VN,
PA/AA, Bd. 193 992.
37
Vermerk des BMV vom 11. Oktober 1985, PA/AA, Bd. 193 992.
38
Drahtbericht Nr. 36 der Botschaft Kingston vom 19. März 1986, PA/AA,
Bd. 193 992.
 die errichtung des internationalen seegerichtshofes1809

bekannten Positionen: Die Frage, sich nach einem anderen Sitz

umzusehen, stelle sich nicht, da ein Beitritt Deutschlands bis zum
ungewissen Zeitpunkt des Inkrafttretens des SRÜ nicht ausgeschlossen
werden könne. Der Vorsitzende der Sonderkommission 4 schlug dar­
aufhin vor, den in Auftrag gegebenen Bericht des VN-Sekretariats
abzuwarten.39
Dieser wurde am 4. April 1986 in der Sonderkommission 4 vorgetra­
gen40 und ging insbesondere auf die nötige Vorbereitungszeit für die
Einrichtung internationaler Gerichte ein. In der Diskussion41 plädier­
ten u.a. Äthiopien, die Sowjetunion, die Mongolei und Bulgarien dafür,
dass man bereits zum jetzigen Zeitpunkt über den Sitz neu entscheiden
müsse: Es verbleibe nicht genügend Vorbereitungszeit, falls sich her­
ausstellen sollte, dass Deutschland beim Inkrafttreten nicht beigetreten
sei – ein Standpunkt, den auch das bei der Wahl um den ISGH-Sitz
unterlegene Jugoslawien einnahm, das zudem in der ersten Hälfte 1986
das SRÜ ratifizierte. Andere Delegationen, darunter Partner in der
Europäischen Gemeinschaft, bezeichneten die Diskussion als ver­
früht42; zudem habe die Vorbereitungskommission gar nicht die
Kompetenz, über diese Frage zu entscheiden. Der deutsche Vertreter
wiederholte die bekannten Argumente zur deutschen Haltung. Am
Ende der Debatte kündigte der Vorsitzende an, man werde die
Angelegenheit während der nächsten Sitzung im Sommer weiter
behandeln. Intern drängte er auf Unterstützung für seinen Vorschlag,
dass nach der Ratifizierung durch den 50. Staat Alternativen für den
Sitz entwickelt werden sollten, sofern Deutschland bis dahin nicht bei­
getreten sei. Trotz der rechtlich gut fundierten eigenen Position wurde
auf deutscher Seite befürchtet, dass man auf Dauer politisch eine
Empfehlung der Vorbereitungskommission, Eventualplanungen zu
ergreifen, wohl schwerlich verhindern könne. Hinzu kam, dass vieler­
orts die Erteilung nationaler Tiefseebergbau-Lizenzen durch das
Bundeswirtschaftsministerium im Dezember 1985 als endgültige deut­
sche Abkehr vom SRÜ angesehen wurde.43

39
 Id.
40
 UN Doc. LOS/PCN/SCN.4/1986/CRP.19.
41
Drahtbericht Nr. 49 der Botschaft Kingston vom 11. April 1986, PA/AA,
Bd. 193 992.
42
1986 hatten in etwa die Hälfte der für ein Inkrafttreten des SRÜ erforderlichen
Staaten ratifiziert.
43
Minister-Vorlage der Rechtsabteilung des AA vom 16. Juni 1986, PA/AA,
Bd. 193 993.
1810 gerd westdickenberg

Um den Auftrag der Vorbereitungskommission zu erfüllen, die

Frage der Vorbereitungsarbeiten für den ISGH zu prüfen und insoweit
ihre Konsultationen mit den deutschen Behörden fortzusetzen und
über die Planungen und den Fortschritt in Hamburg zu berichten,
erbat der Assistent des Sonderbeauftragten des Generalsekretärs für
Seerecht, Gritakumar Chitty (später erster Kanzler des ISGH), von der
deutschen Seite sachdienliche Informationen.44
Dieser politische Druck war u.a. Anlass für das Bundesverkehrs­
ministerium, sich dafür einzusetzen, in den Bundeshaushalt für das
Jahr 1987 Mittel für die Fortsetzung der Planungsarbeiten einzustellen,
die bis dahin allein vom Hamburger Senat getragen worden waren.
Insoweit musste u.a. noch geklärt werden, welches Ressort die
Zuständigkeit für den ISGH, speziell auch, wer die Bauträgerschaft
übernehmen sollte. Der Kreis der beamteten Staatssekretäre der
Bundesregierung unter Vorsitz des Chefs des Bundeskanzleramtes ent­
schied im Juni 1986, dass das Bundesjustizministerium zuständiges
Ressort innerhalb der Bundesregierung für den ISGH sei und in sei­
nem Haushalt ein Titel dafür eingestellt werden solle.45 Im „Arbeitskreis
Seegerichtshof “ beschlossen daraufhin die beteiligten Ressorts, dass
dem VN-Sekretariat auf seine Bitte hin ein Dokument übermittelt
werde, das den letzten Stand der Vorbereitungen in Hamburg für den
ISGH darstelle – verbunden mit einem Werkstattbericht in einer
umfangreichen Broschüre des Hamburger Senats. Beide wurden mit
Schreiben vom 28. Juli 198646 an Gritakumar Chitty übersandt. Der
Bericht geht u.a. auf die detaillierten Pläne der Stadt Hamburg mit
Grundriss für die Räumlichkeiten an der Elbchaussee ein, ebenso wie
auf Möglichkeiten einer temporären Unterbringung bis zu dessen
Fertigstellung.
In den Beratungen des zweiten Teils der vierten Sitzung
der Vorbereitungskommission im August/September 1986 zeitigten
sowohl die Berichte über den Fortgang der Vorbereitungsarbeiten47 als
auch das beharrliche deutsche Eintreten für seine Position die Folge,
dass eine allgemeine Diskussion über Hamburg als Sitz vermieden
werden konnte. Der Vorsitzende der Sonderkommission 4 äußerte sich

44
 Schreiben vom 30. Juni 1986, PA/AA, Bd. 193 993.
45
Vermerk des BMV vom 9. Juli 1986, PA/AA, Bd. 193 993.
46
PA/AA, Bd. 193 993.
47
Das Schreiben an Chitty vom 28. Juli 1986 wurde als Anlage 5 zum UN Doc. LOS/
PCN/SCN.4/L.6 vom 2. September 1986 zirkuliert.
 die errichtung des internationalen seegerichtshofes1811

in seinem Abschlussbericht an das Plenum der Vorbereitungskommission

vergleichsweise zurückhaltend, nachdem er einen modifizierten Text
zu einer möglichen Eventualplanung dahingehend verteilt hatte, dass
er nicht mehr auf den Zeitpunkt der Ratifizierung des 50., sondern
des 60. Staates abstellte, bis zu dem Deutschland dem SRÜ beigetreten
sein müsse, anderenfalls die Vorbereitungskommission die erforderli­
chen Schritte einleiten müsste, um den Sitz in einem dem SRÜ beige­
tretenen Staat zu etablieren.48
Auch während der fünften Session der Vorbereitungskommission
im Frühjahr 1987 war Hamburg als Sitz des ISGH kein vorrangiges
Thema. Allerdings richtete der Vorsitzende der „Gruppe der 77“ (G 77)
einen Brief an den Vorsitzenden der Vorbereitungskommission vom
16. April 1987, in dem zwar die Vorbereitungsarbeiten für den ISGH in
Deutschland anerkannt wurden, jedoch auch „Besorgnis“ darüber aus­
gedrückt wurde49, dass Deutschland die Bedingungen noch nicht
erfüllt habe, auf Basis derer Hamburg als Sitz gewählt worden sei
(Ratifizierung des SRÜ). Auf der sechsten Sitzung der Vorbereitungs­
kommission konzentrierte sich die Sonderkommission 4 auf den
Entwurf eines Sitzabkommens zwischen Deutschland und dem ISGH
sowie erste Artikel eines vom Sekretariat vorgelegten Entwurfs eines
Privilegienprotokolls für den ISGH und einer Verfahrensordnung.
Was den Sitz anbetraf, ergab sich eine ähnliche Situation wie auf der
vorangegangenen Sitzung: Der G 77-Vorsitzende brachte in einem
Schreiben an den Vorsitzenden der Vorbereitungskommission seine
Besorgnis über die bisher nicht erfüllte Bedingung der deutschen
Ratifizierung zum Ausdruck, während die deutsche Delegation ihre
unveränderte Position insoweit erläuterte und auf den erfolgreichen
Besuch einer Delegation der Vorbereitungskommission und des
VN-Sekretariats in Hamburg im August 1987 verweisen konnte.50
Parallel zu den Entwicklungen im internationalen Bereich wurden
national im Ressortkreis die Arbeiten zur Errichtung des ISGH in
Hamburg vorangetrieben. Als Ergebnis zahlreicher Gespräche und
Sitzungen ragt hier ein Kabinettsbeschluss vom Dezember 1986 beson­
ders heraus. Darin bekräftigte die Bundesregierung ihr Festhalten an

48
 Schlussbericht der deutschen Delegation zur vierten Sitzung der Vorberei­
tungskommission vom 23. Oktober 1986, PA/AA, Bd. 194 018.
49
Zirkuliert als UN Doc. LOS/PCN/85 vom 28. April 1987.
50
 Schlussbericht der deutschen Delegation zur sechsten Sitzung der Vorbereitungs­
kommission vom 20. Mai 1988, PA/AA, Bd. 194 021.
1812 gerd westdickenberg

Hamburg als Sitz des ISGH und ihre Verpflichtung sicherzustellen,

dass zum Zeitpunkt des Inkrafttretens des SRÜ der ISGH seine Arbeit
aufnehmen kann. Darüber hinaus erklärte die Bundesregierung ihre
Bereitschaft, auf eigene Kosten das Dienstgebäude des ISGH zu errich­
ten und für eine Übergangslösung bis zu dessen Fertigstellung zu
sorgen.51 Sie stellte Haushaltsmittel für die Fortsetzung der bauplaneri­
schen Vorbereitung der Einrichtung des ISGH in Aussicht, behielt sich
jedoch die Entscheidung zur Aufnahme der Bauausführung vor.
Zugleich gab sie den Auftrag, mit dem Hamburger Senat die Höhe
einer Kostenbeteiligung an den auf ca. 100 Mio. DM geschätzten
Baukosten zu klären. Diese Verpflichtungen ging die Bundesregierung
in Kenntnis dessen ein, dass es möglicherweise zu keiner zufriedenstel­
lenden Lösung im Tiefseebergbau kommen würde, Deutschland des­
halb dem SRÜ nicht beitreten und politisch dann kaum noch Hamburg
als Sitz des ISGH reklamieren könne.
Finanziell bedeutete dies das Risiko, dass die Planungsmittel in Höhe
von ca. sechs Mio. DM ausgegeben würden, ohne sicher zu sein, den
angestrebten Zweck – Errichtung des ISGH in Hamburg – erreichen zu
können. Es handelte sich also um eine „Investition ins Ungewisse“. Im
Hinblick auf das Festhalten an Hamburg als Sitz wurde eine solche
Entscheidung jedoch als unvermeidlich angesehen, wollte man nicht
die eigene Glaubwürdigkeit verlieren und so das Projekt gefährden.
Im Frühjahr 1988 monierte der Vorsitzende der G 77 in einem
Schreiben an den Vorsitzenden der Vorbereitungskommission, dass
Deutschland nicht auf die im Brief vom 16. April 1987 enthaltene Bitte
eingegangen sei, dem SRÜ beizutreten, und wiederholte seine schon
mehrfach geäußerte Besorgnis, dass Deutschland somit die „grundle­
gende Voraussetzung (basic requirement)“ für Hamburg als Sitz des
ISGH immer noch nicht erfüllt habe. Deshalb seien vorsorgliche
Maßnahmen erforderlich, falls Deutschland nicht beitrete.52 Der deut­
sche Delegationsleiter Tono Eitel antwortete hierauf am 8. April 1988
in einer Erklärung, in der er einerseits auf die bereits unternommenen
Vorbereitungen hinwies und darauf, dass Deutschland darauf hinar­
beitete, eine allgemein akzeptable Regelung für den Tiefseebergbau
zu erreichen, und zuversichtlich sei, dieses Ziel auch zu erreichen.

51
 Sprechzettel für den Regierungssprecher zum Kabinettsbeschluss vom 17.
Dezember 1986, PA/AA, Bd. 193 989.
52
 UN Doc. LOS/PCN/L.102 vom 6. April 1988.
 die errichtung des internationalen seegerichtshofes1813

Andererseits bestritt er aber auch – rechtlich argumentierend – eine

angeblich nicht erfüllte grundlegende Voraussetzung: Es werde in
dem einführenden Hinweis („introductory note“) des SRÜ-Entwurfs,
worauf sich Nr. 38 der Schlussakte beziehe, lediglich von einer
Mitgliedschaft im SRÜ zum Zeitpunkt seines Inkrafttretens als Voraus­
setzung gesprochen. Dieser sei jedoch noch nicht eingetreten und
werde auch nicht so schnell eintreten.53 In seinem Bericht an das
Plenum der Vorbereitungskommission vom 31. August 198854 hielt der
Vorsitzende, Gunter Görner, als Position der G 77 zum Sitz des ISGH
fest, dass ausreichend Zeit für die Festlegung der Position zu einer
Eventualplanung bestehen müsse (Anm.: im November 1987 hatten
erst 34 Staaten das SRÜ ratifiziert).
Ungeachtet dieser sich hinziehenden Kontroverse wurde in der
Sonderkommission 4 betreffend den ISGH die erste Lesung des
Entwurfs eines Sitzabkommens für den ISGH55 – als Grundlage ent­
sprechender Verhandlungen mit der Bundesrepublik Deutschland –
abgeschlossen. Kurzfristig legte das Sekretariat der Sonderkommission
4 in der Sitzungsperiode März/April 1988 ein Arbeitspapier für ein
Privilegien-Übereinkommen mit dem Ziel vor, darauf aufbauend
ein Abkommen der Vertragsstaaten des SRÜ zu entwerfen, um dem
ISGH und allen Prozessbeteiligten die Arbeit zu erleichtern.56 Es stützte
sich vor allem auf einschlägige Übereinkommen wie z.B. das über
Vorrechte und Immunitäten der VN aus dem Jahre 1946, auf das
Abkommen über Vorrechte und Befreiungen des Europarates von 1952
sowie Zusatzprotokolle dazu aus den Jahren 1952 und 1956. Diese
Anlehnung fand keine ungeteilte Zustimmung (u.a. auch Kritik von
Deutschland), da die 40-jährigen Erfahrungen mit solchen Abkommen
nicht berücksichtigt seien.
Bundesregierung und Hamburger Senat schlossen – aufbauend auf
Gesprächen mit dem VN-Sekretariat im vorangegangenen Sommer
sowie auf Erkundigungen der deutschen Botschaften bei anderen
internationalen Gerichten, insbesondere dem IGH – im Frühjahr 1988
die Erstellung eines Stellen- und Raumbedarfplanes ab. Damit war die

53
 Erklärungstext mit Schreiben von Eitel vom 20. April 1988 an USG Nandan über­
sandt, PA/AA, Bd. 194 586.
54
 UN Doc. LOS/PCN/L.66.
55
 UN Doc. LOS/PCN/SCN.4/WP.5.
56
 UN Doc. LOS/PCN/SCN.4/WP.6 vom 23. März 1988 (s.a. Schlussbericht der
deutschen Delegation zur sechsten Sitzung der Vorbereitungskommission vom 20.
Mai 1988, PA/AA, Bd. 194 021).
1814 gerd westdickenberg

Basis gelegt für einen internationalen Architektenwettbewerb für das

ISGH-Gebäude, der im März 1989 ausgelobt wurde. Mitte September
1989 vergab die Jury des Architektenwettbewerbes den ersten Preis an
das Architektenbüro von Branca für seinen Entwurf. Hamburgs Erster
Bürgermeister, Henning Voscherau, stellte diesen dann schon einen
Monat später dem VN-Generalsekretär Perez de Cuellar vor.
Hamburg ergriff eine weitere Initiative, um die Errichtung des ISGH
weiter zu fördern, und gründete im September 1989 ein Kuratorium,
in dem Persönlichkeiten aus Politik, Wirtschaft und Wissenschaft
sowohl auf Bundesebene als auch aus den nördlichen Bundeslän­
dern vertreten waren, u.a. Bundeskanzler a.D. Helmut Schmidt
als Ehrenvorsitzender, Erster Bürgermeister Henning Voscherau als
Vorsitzender, der niedersächsische Wirtschaftsminister, Parlamen­
tarische bzw. Beamtete Staatssekretäre aus AA, BMBau, BMJ und
Bundeswirtschaftsministerium (BMWi) sowie Parlamentarier, aber
auch z.B. der Präsident des Deutschen Industrie- und Handelstages
(DIHT).57 Aufgabe dieses Kuratoriums sollte die Förderung des ISGH
sein, insbesondere auch dadurch, dass es sich für die Vorbedingung
der Vergabe des Sitzes an Hamburg einsetzte, d.h. die deutsche
Diskussion um einen rechtzeitigen Beitritt Deutschlands zum SRÜ
vorantrieb.
Deutschland war nicht das einzige Land, das mit den Regelungen
des Kapitels XI des SRÜ grundlegende Probleme hatte, sondern prak­
tisch alle industrialisierten Länder: Die ersten 50 Ratifizierungen
des SRÜ kamen mit der Ausnahme von Island ausschließlich von
Entwicklungs- bzw. Schwellenländern.58 Neben den Interessenge­
gensätzen von Industrie- und Entwicklungsländern wirkte sich der Ost-
West-Gegensatz auf das SRÜ aus. So kam erst Ende 1989 Bewegung in
die festgefahrenen Fragen des Tiefseebergbaus in Teil XI des SRÜ. Die
Sowjetunion, die bis dahin die Haltung der G 77 insoweit unterstützt
hatte, begann sich an die Positionen von insbesondere den USA,
aber auch Deutschland und anderen Industrieländern anzunähern.
Gleichzeitig erklärte der Sprecher der G 77 nach sechs Jahren ergebnis­
loser Diskussion, die G 77 sei bereit über die Problematik des
Tiefseebergbaus ohne Vorbedingungen mit allen zu sprechen, um

57
Verzeichnis der Hamburger Senatskanzlei vom Juli 1989, PA/AA, Bd. 194 586.
58
 G. Jaenicke, The United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea and the
Agreement Relating to the Implementation of Part XI of the Convention, in: Festschrift
für R. Bernhardt, Recht zwischen Umbruch und Bewahrung, 121 (1995).
 die errichtung des internationalen seegerichtshofes1815

einen Kompromiss zu finden.59 Vor diesem Hintergrund wurden 1990

auf Betreiben von VN-Generalsekretär Perez de Cuellar informelle
Beratungen über die zentralen Probleme der Industrieländer im
Bereich von Teil XI begonnen, die rund vier Jahre andauerten und
schließlich am 28. Juli 1994 zum „Übereinkommen zur Durchführung
des Teils XI des SRÜ“ führten.60 Die Bundesrepublik Deutschland trat
(wie auch andere Industriestaaten, nicht jedoch die USA) am gleichen
Tag bei, an dem das SRÜ in Kraft trat: Am 16. November 1994. Damit
waren die fast 12 Jahre andauernden Bemühungen der Bundesrepublik
Deutschland erfolgreich, Hamburg den ihm bereits 1982 zugesproche­
nen Sitz des ISGH zu sichern.
Die Bundesregierung konnte sich in der Lage sehen, dem SRÜ bei­
zutreten, weil in dem Übereinkommen nicht nur Interpretationen und
Anwendung bestimmter Artikel von Teil XI des SRÜ geregelt sind,
sondern weil es weitreichende Änderungen – implizit und ausdrück­
lich – von Bestimmungen des Teils XI enthält, deretwegen Deutschland
wie andere Industriestaaten das SRÜ nicht gezeichnet hatten bzw.
nicht beigetreten waren, so z.B. Bestimmungen zur Entscheidungsfin­
dung im Rat der Internationalen Meeresbodenbehörde. Weiterhin
werden Artikel, die den obligatorischen Technologietransfer festlegen,
für nicht anwendbar erklärt, ebenso wie diejenigen über eine
Überprüfungskonferenz, bei der Änderungen im Falle von fehlendem
Konsens mit Mehrheitsentscheidungen hätten beschlossen werden
können61, d.h. die Entwicklungsländer hätten die Industrieländer über­
stimmen können. Auch eine der für die Industriestaaten umstrittens­
ten Regelungen, wonach die Vertragsparteien des SRÜ verpflichtet
waren, das erste Abbauprojekt im Rahmen des Tiefseebergbaus zu
finanzieren, wurde dahingehend modifiziert, dass es eine solche
Verpflichtung nicht gibt.62
Vom Moment des Beitritts zum SRÜ an konnte sich die
Bundesregierung auf die Aushandlung eines Sitzabkommens und eines

59
 Erklärung von M. Kapumpa (Sambia) im August 1989, in: R. Platzöder (Hrsg.),
Law of the Sea: Documents 1983–1991, Vol. 13, 472 (1992).
60
D. H. Anderson, Resolution and Agreement Relating to the Implementation of
Part XI of the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea: A General Assessment, 55 ZaöRV
275, 276 (1995).
61
Vgl. Jaenicke (Fn. 58), 122.
62
 Anderson (Fn. 60), 286; vgl. zu den Einzelheiten der Veränderungen: M.B.
Berenbrok/P. Nussbaum, Zum Inkrafttreten des Seerechtsübereinkommens der
Vereinten Nationen. Der Internationale Seegerichtshof in Hamburg und der
Tiefseebergbau, Recht der Internationalen Wirtschaft, 910–918 (1994).
1816 gerd westdickenberg

Liegenschaftsabkommens mit dem ISGH sowie auf Fragen des

Übereinkommens über Privilegien und Immunitäten konzentrieren.
Die Vertragsstaatenkonferenz des SRÜ hatte auf ihrer Sitzung im
November/Dezember 1995 einen Entwurf für ein Privilegien- und
Immunitäten-Übereinkommen erarbeitet63, der eine Überarbeitung
des von der Vorbereitungskommission unter deutscher Beteiligung
ausgehandelten endgültigen Entwurfs64 darstellte. Dieser Entwurf
wurde sodann auf der Vertragsstaatenkonferenz im März 1996 und
im Juli/August 1996 behandelt. Deutschen Änderungswünschen (u.a.
in steuerlichen Fragen und solchen der Immunität) wurde mit
Zurückhaltung begegnet, weil man einen schnellen Abschluss des
Abkommens anstrebte. Von Seiten des Sekretariats hieß es, die meisten
der Vorschläge könnten im Sitzabkommen geregelt werden, weshalb es
nicht nötig sei, sie im Text des alle Staaten betreffenden Privilegien-
und Immunitäten-Übereinkommens zu behandeln.65 Bei den folgen­
den Sitzungen der Vertragsstaatenkonferenz wurden die deutschen
Änderungsvorschläge teilweise angenommen und schließlich eine
Kompromisslösung gefunden, die es ermöglichte, dass das Überein­
kommen über Privilegien und Immunitäten am 23. Mai 1997 von der
Vertragsstaatenkonferenz angenommen66 wurde. Deutschland zeich­
nete es im Mai 1999. Das Gesetz zu diesem Übereinkommen – und
ebenso zu dem weiter unten behandelten Sitzabkommen – trat aller­
dings erst am 1. Mai 2007 in Kraft.67
Im Frühsommer 1997 begannen die Verhandlungen über ein
Liegenschaftsabkommen („Abkommen über die Inbesitznahme und
Nutzung der Liegenschaft des ISGH in der Freien und Hansestadt
Hamburg“) zwischen der Bundesregierung und dem ISGH auf der
Grundlage von vom federführenden BMJ erstellten Entwürfen, die
sich weitgehend an einem Abkommen der Bundesrepublik Deutschland
über die Unterbringung der United Nations Volunteers (UNV) orien­
tierte.68 Zunächst waren zwei Abkommen geplant: eines über die
vorläufige Unterbringung in vorhandenen Räumlichkeiten in der

63
 UN Doc. SPLOS/WP.2 vom 30. November 1995, PA/AA, Bd. 195 411.
64
 UN Doc. LOS/PCN/SCN.4/WP.16/Add. 3 vom 14. Oktober 1993.
65
 Schreiben vom Office of Legal Affairs, Division for Ocean Affairs and the Law of
the Sea an das AA vom 19. Juni 1996, PA/AA, Bd. 195 412.
66
 UN Doc. SPLOS/25 vom 5. Juni 1997.
67
Bundesgesetzblatt 2007 Teil II Nr. 4 vom 22. Februar 2007, 143.
68
 Schreiben des BMJ Z A 2 vom 6. Mai 1997 an die Ressorts, PA/AA, Bd. 353 612.
 die errichtung des internationalen seegerichtshofes1817

Wexstraße in Hamburg, das andere über den Neubau. Bereits in den

ersten Verhandlungsrunden zwischen dem Kanzler des ISGH und
dem Vertreter des federführenden BMJ zeigten sich ähnliche Probleme
wie bei denen über das Sitzabkommen, z.B. dass der ISGH das UNV-
Liegenschaftsabkommen als Modell für ungeeignet ansah. Auch
kam ISGH-Kritik an den vorübergehend zur Verfügung gestellten
Räumlichkeiten auf. Insbesondere Fragen des Umfangs der erfor­
derlichen Renovierungen und Reparaturen der Übergangsimmobilie
sowie die Ausstattung des Neubaus, z.B. dessen medientechnische
Installationen mit erheblichen Kosten, waren Gegenstand ausgedehn­
ter Diskussionen in den ersten drei Verhandlungsrunden 1997/
1998.69 Es wurde schließlich weitgehend Einigung erzielt (Ausnahme:
Übernahme der Instandhaltungskosten, Bereitstellung zusätzlicher
Ausrüstung), jedoch 1999 – der Einzug in den Neubau an der
Elbchaussee stand kurz bevor – vereinbart, die Verhandlungen zukünf­
tig auf ein Abkommen für die endgültige Unterbringung zu beschrän­
ken, das die Ergebnisse der Vorrunden berücksichtigte. Insoweit sollte
jedoch der ISGH angesichts der Tatsache, dass es sich um ein neues
Gebäude handelte, hinsichtlich der Kosten für Unterhalt und Betrieb
aus Sicht der Bundesregierung stärker in die Pflicht genommen wer­
den. Eine Einigung auf den Text des Liegenschaftsabkommens gelang
zwar nicht rechtzeitig vor Einweihung des neuen Gerichtsgebäudes am
3. Juli 2000 durch den Generalsekretär der VN, aber es konnte am 18.
Oktober 2000 von Bundesjustizministerin Herta Däubler-Gmelin dem
Präsidenten des ISGH Chandrasekhara Rao und Staatssekretär
Wolfgang Ischinger vom AA unterzeichnet werden.70
In diesem Abkommen ist u.a. festgehalten, dass Deutschland
Eigentümer des Neubaus bleibt, ihn allerdings dem ISGH ab 6.
November 2000 für seine Zwecke (aber auch für den einschlägigen
Gebrauch durch Dritte) mietfrei zur Verfügung stellt (Art. 3). In Art. 4
verpflichtet sich der ISGH zur Übernahme der Betriebs-, Unterhaltungs-
und Reparaturkosten („major repairs“ zum Erhalt der Gebäudesubstanz
gehen jedoch zu Lasten der Bundesrepublik Deutschland, Abs. 3).
Mit der geplanten Wahl der 21 ISGH-Richter am 1. August 1996 und
ihrer Vereidigung am 18. Oktober 1996 wurde es dringlich, eine

69
Vgl. die Zusammenfassung der Verhandlungen im Vermerk des BMJ vom 9.
November 1999, PA/AA, Bd. 353 614.
70
 Text abgedruckt im Bundesgesetzblatt 2007, Teil II Nr. 14 vom 18. Mai 2007,
680–703.
1818 gerd westdickenberg

Übergangsregelung für die Zeit zwischen der Konstituierung des ISGH

und dem Inkrafttreten eines Sitzabkommens mit Deutschland zu fin­
den, um dem Gericht eine Aufnahme seiner Tätigkeit zu ermöglichen.
Es bot sich an, ein gerade zwischen Deutschland und den Vereinten
Nationen für den Sitz der UNV geschlossenes Sitzabkommen sinnge­
mäß anzuwenden und hierzu mit Zustimmung des Bundesrates eine
Rechtsverordnung zu erlassen. Da das UNV-Abkommen jedoch keine
Regelungen im Hinblick auf mögliche Parteien oder Zeugen eines
Verfahrens vor dem ISGH bieten konnte, wurde alternativ eine Verord­
nung ins Auge gefasst, wonach das Abkommen über die Vorrechte
und Befreiungen der Sonderorganisationen der VN von 1947 und das
Abkommen über die Vorrechte und Immunitäten der Vereinten
Nationen von 1946 sinngemäß angewandt werden sollten. Zur
Regelung solcher Fragen71 wurde sodann im Juli 1996 eine interminis­
terielle Arbeitsgruppe gebildet, der das federführende AA schließlich
doch eine Verordnung mit sinngemäßer Anwendung des UNV-
Sitzabkommens vorschlug.72 Allerdings hatte das VN-Sekretariat inso­
weit bemängelt, dass eine Anwendung des UNV-Abkommens dem
ISGH nicht einen mit vergleichbaren internationalen Gerichtshöfen
identischen Status sichere. Schließlich konnte nach längeren
Beratungen innerhalb der Bundesregierung und mit den VN eine
zufriedenstellende Regelung gefunden werden, die dann am 10.
Oktober 1996 von der Bundesregierung in einer Verordnung verab­
schiedet und am 15. Oktober1996 veröffentlicht wurde – d.h. wenige
Tage vor Vereidigung der ISGH-Richter am 18. Oktober 1996 und
somit der Aufnahme der Tätigkeit des ISGH. Die Rechtsgrundlage für
die Verordnung waren die Gesetze über den Beitritt der Bundesrepublik
Deutschland zum Abkommen über Vorrechte und Befreiungen der
VN-Sonderorganisationen von 1947 und über die Gewährung von
Vorrechten und Befreiungen an zwischenstaatliche Organisationen in
der Neufassung aus dem Jahre 1980. In ihr wird u.a. die sinngemäße
Anwendung des Abkommens für VN-Sonderorganisationen von 1947
bestimmt, ebenso wie die Behandlung der Richter und des Kanzlers
des ISGH entsprechend den in vergleichbarem Rang stehenden

71
Der Weg einer Verordnung war rechtlich nicht unstrittig; vgl. Vermerk des AA
vom 23. Mai 1996, PA/AA, Bd. 195 412.
72
 Schnellbrief vom 29. Juli 1996, PA/AA, Bd. 195 413.
 die errichtung des internationalen seegerichtshofes1819

Diplomaten in Deutschland sowie einige Sondervorschriften im

Hinblick auf die Sozialversicherung festgelegt werden.73
Wenige Tage nach der Vereidigung der Richter und der Wahl von
Präsident, Vizepräsident und Kanzler schlug der Präsident des ISGH,
der ghanaische Richter Thomas Mensah, der Bundesregierung die
Aufnahme von Verhandlungen über ein Sitzabkommen vor. Erster
Verhandlungstermin war der 16. Januar 1997. Schon frühzeitig zeich­
neten sich die sowohl zwischen dem ISGH und der Bundesregierung
als auch die teilweise zwischen den Ressorts strittigen Bereiche ab,
die praktisch bis zum Abschluss der Verhandlungen in unterschiedli­
cher Weise immer wieder von Bedeutung waren. Hierzu zählten
insbesondere
– Statusfragen der Richter und des Kanzlers (wie Leiter von diploma­
tischen Missionen?) sowie ihrer Familienangehörigen;
– die Steuerfreiheit für Mitarbeiter des ISGH (ab welchem Rang und
wie umfassend?) und für Familienangehörige von Mitgliedern und
Mitarbeitern;
– die Befreiung von Sozialversicherungsabgaben der Mitarbeiter;
– das Verfahren zur Beilegung arbeitsrechtlicher Streitigkeiten;
– die Besteuerung der weltweiten Einkünfte – ausschließlich derjeni­
gen vom ISGH (sogenanntes Welteinkommensprinzip) sowie
– bei der Besteuerung dieses Einkommens die Zulässigkeit des Pro­
gressionsvorbehalts, wonach diese Bezüge bei der Bemessung des
Steuersatzes einzurechnen sind.
Die Vertreter des ISGH (es verhandelten in den ersten Verhand­
lungsrunden der Präsident und der Vizepräsident auf Seiten des
Gerichts) machten gegenüber dem Verhandlungsführer auf Seiten der
Bundesregierung (der Leiter der Rechtsabteilung des AA unterstützt
von Vertretern der Ressorts) immer wieder geltend, Deutschland habe
– ausdrücklich, zumindest aber konkludent – zugesichert, den ISGH,
seine Mitglieder und Mitarbeiter, so zu behandeln wie seinerseits der
IGH in Den Haag behandelt werde, bzw. berief sich auf Grundsätze,
die insgesamt innerhalb der VN-Familie Anwendung fänden bei der
Ansiedlung von Organisationen der VN-Familie. Gleichzeitig ergaben
sich grundlegende Meinungsunterschiede bei einigen der o.a. Fragen

73
Bundesgesetzblatt 1996, Teil II Nr. 44 vom 15. Oktober 1996, 2517.
1820 gerd westdickenberg

zwischen den Ressorts, die z.T. bis auf die Ministerebene gehoben wer­
den mussten, um Einigung zu erreichen. Dennoch hatte man sich nach
ca. einem Jahr auf den Entwurf eines Sitzabkommens einigen können,
der von Präsident und Vizepräsident den übrigen Mitgliedern des
Gerichts zur Billigung vorgelegt wurde.
Mit einem vierseitigen Schreiben vom 26. März 199874 an den Leiter
der Rechtsabteilung des AA hielt Präsident Mensah fest, dass die
Richter zwar Befriedigung im Grundsatz mit dem erreichten Fort­
schritt geäußert, aber einige Richter auch Besorgnis wegen verschiede­
ner Punkte vorgebracht hätten. Diese erstreckten sich insbesondere
auf – bereits in den vorangegangenen Verhandlungen vereinbarte –
Abwei­chungen vom Entwurf des Sitzabkommens wie z.B. die Rechte
von Ehefrauen sowie Hausangestellten von Gerichtsmitgliedern, dem
Kanzler und Mitarbeitern des Gerichts sowie auf Besteuerungsfragen
von Hausangestellten der Richter, des Kanzlers sowie Mitarbeitern des
ISGH oder auf den nach Ansicht des ISGH in keinem VN-Sitzabkommen
enthaltenen Vorbehalt des Sitzstaates gegenüber Einreise bzw. Auf­
enthalt von u.a. Zeugen und Sachverständigen. Daraufhin mussten die
Verhandlungen erneut aufgenommen werden und liefen sich fest, vor
allem im Hinblick auf Steuerfragen wie z.B. die Anwendung des
Welteinkommensprinzips und des Progressionsvorbehalts. Aus Sicht
des ISGH waren solche Regelungen unvereinbar mit den gesetzlichen
Bestimmungen und der allgemeinen Praxis innerhalb des VN-Systems
und würden zu Problemen bei der Rekrutierung von Mitarbeitern
führen. Schließlich gelang es, sich so weit anzunähern, dass lediglich
zwei Fragen strittig blieben: die Besteuerung nicht bevorrechtigter
Bediensteter, also des technischen Personals, und die Frage der
Befreiung von der gesetzlichen Krankenversicherung.
Jedoch auch ein zweites Mal wurde das bis dahin verhandelte Paket
in seiner Einengung auf diese beiden offenen Fragen seitens des
ISGH im September 1999 wieder aufgeschnürt: zunächst mündlich in
den Verhandlungen, am 14. Dezember 1999 schriftlich bestätigt mit
Schreiben des Kanzlers des ISGH gegenüber dem Leiter der Rechts­
abteilung des AA.75 Darin wurden Fragen als strittig aufgeworfen wie
z.B. Erteilung von Arbeitserlaubnissen, Einkommensbescheinigungen
für Bedienstete des ISGH, Gleichbehandlung von Bediensteten und

74
PA/AA, Bd. 289 222.
75
PA/AA, Bd. 353 600.
 die errichtung des internationalen seegerichtshofes1821

Familienangehörigen, Unterschiede in der allgemeinen und der steuer­

lichen Privilegierung ebenso wie Einzelfragen der direkten und indi­
rekten Besteuerung. Deutlich wurde, dass
– auf Seiten des ISGH eine Schlechterstellung gegenüber dem IGH
und Regelungen in Sitzabkommen mit anderen Institutionen der
VN-Familie weltweit und in Deutschland speziell, wie z.B. dem
UNV, befürchtet wurde, während die Bundesregierung gerade das
UNV-Abkommen als Modell ansah und entsprechend angewandt
sehen wollte;
– auf Seiten der Bundesregierung die Sorge bestand, ein Eingehen auf
die ISGH-Forderungen
– widerspreche zum einen früheren Parlamentsbeschlüssen (sowohl
des Bundestages als auch des Bundesrates), Privilegien nicht auszu­
weiten, und gehe über in internationalen Standards gewährte Privi­
legien hinaus. Zum anderen könne sich angesichts unterschiedlicher
Sachverhalte – auch bei grundsätzlicher Anerkennung der Gleich­
behandlung des ISGH mit dem IGH – diese nicht schematisch
erfolgen.
Unter dem Zeitdruck der für Juli 2000 vorgesehenen feierlichen
Einweihung des ISGH-Gebäudes an der Elbchaussee gelang es in zwei
Verhandlungsrunden wieder Bewegung in die festgefahrenen Ver­
hand­lungen zu bringen und erneut die Verhandlungspositionen so
aneinander anzunähern, dass lediglich die Besteuerung von nicht pri­
vilegiertem Personal des ISGH strittig blieb. Insoweit allerdings waren
innerhalb der Bundesregierung die Positionen bis hinauf auf Minis­
terebene festgezurrt. Der BMF beharrte auf dem Welteinkom­men­
sprinzip und dem Progressionsvorbehalt. Zudem verwies er darauf,
dass angesichts der o.a. Parlamentsbeschlüsse bei einer Ausdehnung
von Privilegien mit Widerspruch im Gesetzgebungsverfahren bzgl.
des Sitzabkommens gerechnet werden müsse. Auch stelle ein Eingehen
auf die ISGH-Forderungen eine Überschreitung des für alle VN-
Organisationen in Deutschland geltenden Privilegierungsrahmens des
UNV-Abkommens dar und lasse Nachforderungen anderer VN-
Organisationen in Deutschland befürchten.76 Es kam dann bis zur
Einweihung des Gerichtsgebäudes am 3. Juli 2000 zu keiner Einigung,

76
 So dargestellt in einer Vorlage an den Staatssekretär vom 25. Januar 2000, PA/AA,
Bd. 353 602.
1822 gerd westdickenberg

jedoch versicherte der ISGH-Kanzler mit einem Schreiben vom 31. Juli
200077, dass bei einer Einigung in der einzig noch offenen Steuerfrage
einer Unterzeichnung des Abkommens nichts mehr im Wege stünde.
Im Hinblick darauf wurden die Abstimmungen zwischen ISGH und
der Bundesregierung über technische Details und über die englische
und die französische Sprachfassung fortgesetzt in Erwartung einer
Lösung bei der Grundsatzfrage der Besteuerung. Diese konnte erst im
Vorfeld des Besuchs von VN-Generalsekretär Kofi Annan Mitte
Dezember 2003 in Berlin durch eine Entscheidung von Bundeskanzler
Gerhard Schröder gefunden werden.78 Sie ermöglichte es, den Dissens
innerhalb der Ressorts zu überwinden und die Verhandlungen über
ein Sitzabkommen wieder in Bewegung zu bringen. Die Entscheidung
des Bundeskanzlers ging dahin, dass mit dem ISGH ein Sitzabkom­
men entsprechend dem mit UNV geschlossen werden sollte.79 Damit
war sowohl der Progressionsvorbehalt vom Tisch als auch eine
Privilegierung bei direkten Steuern von Ehegatten und Angehörigen
von ISGH-Bediensteten ab einschließlich Rang P 5. Nach Abklärung
weiterer, weniger ausschlaggebender Punkte konnte dann nach acht
Verhandlungsjahren am 14. Dezember 2004 das Sitzabkommen von
Staatssekretär Jürgen Chrobog und ISGH-Präsident Dolliver Nelson
unterzeichnet werden. Bei der feierlichen Unterzeichnung war auch
Richter Rüdiger Wolfrum anwesend – wie bereits bei der ersten
Verhandlungsrunde 1996.
In einer Pressemitteilung des ISGH vom gleichen Tag heißt es u.a.,
Präsident Nelson habe seine Dankbarkeit für die hervorragende
Zusammenarbeit seit Beginn der Verhandlungen zum Ausdruck
gebracht. Eine Meldung der Associated Press (AP) vom 14. Dezember
200480 spricht von den Schlussverhandlungen als Übungen am „diplo­
matischen Hochreck“, an deren Abschluss der ISGH nun „dauerhaft in
Hamburg zu Hause“ sei. Das Abkommen trat am 1. Mai 2007 in Kraft.81
Damit fand eine Entwicklung ihren erfolgreichen Abschluss, die ein
Vierteljahrhundert vorher ihren Anfang genommen hatte. Anders als
noch zu Beginn der Bemühungen, Hamburg als Sitz des ISGH zu etab­
lieren, war der ISGH bei seiner Gründung nicht mehr die erste

77
PA/AA, Bd. 353 602.
78
PA/AA, Bd. 417 330.
79
 So ein Schreiben des BMF an das AA vom 7. Januar 2004, PA/AA, Bd. 417 330.
80
 Associated Press 141841 vom 14. Dezember 2004.
81
Bundesgesetzblatt 2007, Teil II Nr. 13 vom 15. Mai 2007, 672.
 die errichtung des internationalen seegerichtshofes1823

Institution der VN-Familie in Deutschland, war Deutschland wieder

vereint und die Ost-West-Konfrontation überwunden. Sie hatte sich in
den VN-Gremien u.a. dadurch ausgewirkt, dass Hamburg als Sitz des
ISGH immer wieder infrage gestellt wurde, bis Deutschland dem
SRÜ beigetreten war. Heute ist Deutschland ein Land, das nicht nur
den ISGH in Hamburg beherbergt, sondern in dem sich am
VN-Standort Bonn insgesamt 19 Büros von VN-Institutionen mit ca.
750 Mitarbeitern angesiedelt haben. Die Bedeutung von konkur­
renzfähigen Arbeitsbedingungen als Voraussetzung einer politisch
gewünschten Ansiedlung von VN-Organisationen wurde nicht zuletzt
bei den Verhandlungen über das Sitzabkommen mit dem ISGH deut­
lich. Insoweit erwies sich die bereits Mitte der 1990er Jahre getroffene
Grundsatzentscheidung der Bundesregierung als Richtung weisend –
wenn sie vielleicht auch zwischenzeitlich in den Hintergrund getreten
sein mag: mit den Abkommen im Hinblick auf die UNV-Ansiedlung
ein Modell für die Ansiedlung weiterer VN-Organisationen zu
schaffen.
Die Entstehungsgeschichte der Errichtung des ISGH zeigt aber auch
sehr deutlich, dass erfolgreiche Bemühungen um eine Kandidatur für
den Sitz einer VN-Institution lediglich einen vergleichsweise kurzen
Auftakt im langwierigen Prozess bis zur endgültigen Ansiedlung bil­
den können: der einjährigen Phase des „Aufwärmens“ – um das Bild
aus dem Sport aufzugreifen – mit der Bewerbung folgte ein zwölfjähri­
ges intensives „Training“ bis zur Erreichung der Qualifikation mit
dem Beitritt zum SRÜ und schließlich ein achtjähriges „Turnen am
Hochreck“ bei den Verhandlungen über Sitzstaat- und Liegenschafts­
abkommen. Insofern ist es erfreulich, dass es bei der Ansiedlung
des ISGH lediglich um eine Einzeldisziplin (Hochreck) und nicht um
den traditionellen Zwölfkampf im Turnen mit insgesamt 12 Diszip­
linen ging.
Der „Backlog“ (Rückstand in der Fallbehandlung)
des Europäischen Gerichtshofs für
Menschenrechte

Luzius Wildhaber

A. Neu eintreffende, hängige und seit längerer Zeit hängige

Beschwerden

Bekanntlich ist der Europäische Gerichtshof für Menschenrechte

(EGMR) überlastet. Seitdem das 11. Zusatzprotokoll Kommission und
Gerichtshof fusionierte und den neuen, vollamtlichen EGMR schuf,
hat es nicht ein einziges Jahr gegeben, in dem der Gerichtshof gleich
viele Beschwerden behandeln konnte, wie im jeweiligen Jahr eintra­
fen.1 Im Gegenteil gelang dies auch nicht annähernd.
Vielleicht liegt darin eine weitere Erklärung dafür, dass sich die
Reformdiskussionen der politischen Ebene und der akademischen
Kommentatoren fast ausschließlich mit der Frage befassten, wie der
EGMR ständig mehr Beschwerden „bewältigen“ könne. Es wurde mit
anderen Worten nicht unterschieden zwischen den jedes Jahr neu
eintreffenden, den im jeweiligen Zeitpunkt hängigen und den hängi­
gen, seit längerer Zeit (z.B. seit 3 Jahren) unbehandelt gebliebenen
Beschwerden. Für das Jahr 2010 rechnet man mit 63000 neu eintreffen­
den Beschwerden. Ende Oktober waren ungefähr 141500 Beschwerden
hängig, die einem Entscheidungsgremium des Gerichtshofs zugewie­
sen waren. Dazu kommen zusätzlich noch etwa 21700 Beschwerden,
die zwar eingegangen, aber noch keinem Entscheidungsgremium
zugewiesen waren. Mehr als 18000 der hängigen Beschwerden waren
seit mehr als 3 Jahren nicht behandelt worden.2
Zu diesen mehr als 18000 Beschwerden – die im eigentlichen Sinne
den „Backlog“ des EGMR darstellen – ist zu bemerken, dass es sich

1
 Im Zeitablauf handelt es sich dabei natürlich nicht um dieselben, sondern um
verschiedene Beschwerden.
2
 Ich verdanke diese Angaben dem Greffe (Kanzlei) des EGMR. Zahlen zur
Zunahme der Fälle in früheren Phasen und zur Überlastung der Europäischen
Kommission für Menschenrechte finden sich in E. Bates, The Evolution of the
European Convention on Human Rights, 140, 191–192, 391–395, 398–400, 422, 453,
467–468, 477, 479 (2010).
1826 luzius wildhaber

dabei um eine Verfahrenslänge handelt, die normalerweise bei natio­

nalen Gerichten als Verletzung des Art. 6 der Europäischen Menschen­
rechtskonvention (EMRK) betrachtet werden müsste. Zu behaupten,
dass der Satz „justice delayed is justice denied“ nur für nationale, nicht
für europäische Gerichte gelte, finde ich stil- und grundsatzlos. Das
Gegenteil trifft zu: „Justice delayed in European courts is just as much
justice denied“. Die Tatsache, dass der EGMR entschieden hat, die
Knappheit budgetärer Mittel für die staatlichen Gerichte sei keine
stichhaltige Entschuldigung für die überlange Dauer von Gerichts­
verfahren, macht die Sache nicht besser.3

B. Stete Zunahme der Beschwerden

Man kann nicht sagen, dass der Europarat, die Regierungen der
Mitgliedstaaten, die Richter, die Wissenschaft und die interessierte
Öffentlichkeit nicht mit aller gebotenen Promptheit und Deutlichkeit
auf das Problem hingewiesen worden seien. Bereits bei der ersten
Pressekonferenz des EGMR (Mitte 1999) wurde die Arbeitslast als
„daunting“4 bezeichnet, eine Formulierung, die zwischen „einschüch­
ternd“ und „entmutigend“ liegt. An der ersten vom EGMR organisier­
ten Konferenz über die Reformbedürftigkeit des Systems (Juni 2000)
bemerkte ich, man müsse entweder das Verfahren innerhalb des
Gerichtshofs beschleunigen oder das Volumen der eingehenden Fälle
reduzieren, wenn man nicht wolle, dass das System ersticke.5 Gewisse
Reformvorschläge seien rein praktischer Natur, aber andere müssten
sich mit der zugrundeliegenden Philosophie der Europäischen
Menschenrechtskonvention (EMRK) auseinandersetzen.6 Eine klare
Mehrheit der Richter hat dann auch (April 2003) der Formulierung im
14. Zusatzprotokoll zugestimmt, wonach Beschwerden, in denen die
Beschwerdeführer keinen erheblichen Nachteil darlegen können, für
unzulässig erklärt werden können.7

3
D. J. Harris/M. O’Boyle/E. P. Bates/C. M. Buckley, Law of the European Convention
on Human Rights, 282 (2. Aufl. 2009).
4
Zitiert in 20 Human Rights Law Journal 114 (1999).
5
 L. Wildhaber, The European Court of Human Rights 1998–2006, 106 (2006)
(übersetzt vom englischen Originaltext).
6
 Id.
7
 EGMR, Position paper of 12 September 2003 on proposals for reform of the
European Court of Human Rights as set out in the report of the CDDH of 4 April 2003
(CDDH [2003] 006 final). Das Plenum des EGMR stimmte dem Merkmal „erheblicher
Nachteil“ mit 22:11 Stimmen bei 4 Enthaltungen zu, was in einer Fußnote zu § 24
 europäischer gerichtshof für menschenrechte 1827

Hier soll die Haltung der interessierten Kreise gegenüber der steten
Zunahme der Zahl der jedes Jahr eintreffenden Beschwerden, der beim
EGMR hängigen Beschwerden und der hängigen und seit längerer
Zeit unbehandelten Beschwerden nicht vertieft erörtert werden.
Festgehalten sei einfach, dass trotz der ständig zunehmenden Kennt­
nisse über die EMRK in nationalen Instanzen, trotz allen Bemühungen
des EGMR um Verfahrensvereinfachungen, Verkürzung und Verbes­
serung der Abläufe und trotz der engagierten Diskussionen um das 14.
Zusatzprotokoll die Zahl der vorhin aufgezählten drei Kategorien von
Beschwerden stetig und anscheinend unwiderstehlich zugenommen
hat. Und so fragt sich unter anderem, ob man allenfalls vereinfachte
Spezialverfahren für „Backlog“-Fälle vorsehen sollte.

C. Privilegierung neu eintreffender gegenüber bereits

hängigen Beschwerden?

Von der Sache her besteht kein Anlass, neu eintreffende im Vergleich
zu bereits eingetroffenen Beschwerden zu privilegieren. In beiden
Fällen handelt es sich um tatsächliche oder behauptete Menschen­
rechtsverletzungen. Beim „Backlog“, d.h. bei den seit mindestens drei
Jahren nicht behandelten Beschwerden, kommt allerdings noch der
überlange Zeitablauf als zusätzliche Belastung der jeweiligen Beschwer­
deführer hinzu. Je dringlicher die Behandlung für die einzelnen
Beschwerdeführer ist, je absoluter und unverzichtbarer die angerufene
Menschenrechtsgarantie ist oder je mehr eine Beschwerde auf systemi­
sche, strukturelle Probleme des Landesrechts oder der Praxis deutet,
desto rascher sollte diese Art von Beschwerden beurteilt werden.
Man sollte somit weniger zwischen neu eintreffenden und hängigen
als vielmehr zwischen verschiedenen „Backlog“-Kategorien differen­
zieren. Die als vordringlich zu bezeichnenden Beschwerdekategorien
sollten möglichst rasch behandelt, reduziert und zu Ende geführt wer­
den. Ist es schon schwierig genug für einen Menschenrechtsgerichtshof,
zugestehen zu müssen, dass dringliche Fälle nicht in angemessener
Frist behandelt wurden, so erschwert jede zusätzliche Zeitverzögerung
die Sachlage bloß weiter.

des Position paper festgehalten werden sollte (interne E-mails des EGMR vom 9.
Februar 2004). Die Fußnote verschwand jedoch aus dem Dokument CDDH (2003)
006 final.
1828 luzius wildhaber

D. Kategorien prioritärer Fälle

Der EGMR hat am 29. Juni 2009 Regel 41 seiner Verfahrensordnung

dahingehend abgeändert, dass zukünftig beim Entscheid, in welcher
Reihenfolge Beschwerden zu behandeln sind, die Wichtigkeit und
Dringlichkeit jedes Falls zu berücksichtigen sind. Der Gerichtshof soll
dazu Kriterien festlegen, wobei die Kammern oder deren Präsidenten
im Einzelfall davon abweichen dürften. Nur in Klammern sei beige­
fügt, dass Regel 41 natürlich sowohl für neu eintreffende wie für bereits
hängige Beschwerden gilt.
Ich halte den Grundgedanken von Regel 41 seit langem nicht nur für
richtig,8 sondern auch für notwendig. Selbstverständlich zeichnen sich
Beschwerden wegen Folter, Verschwindenlassen von Personen oder
jahrelanger willkürlicher Inhaftierung – etwa im Vergleich zur Frage,
ob ein vierjähriges Verfahren vor zwei Gerichtsinstanzen den Erforder­
nissen von Art. 6 EMRK entspreche – durch eine ganz andere Ebene
der Intensität, des Leidens, der Dringlichkeit oder auch der Bedeutung
für die gesamte Gesellschaft aus. Deshalb sollten sie auch prioritär
behandelt werden. Diejenigen Stimmen, die meinen, es gebe „keine
unbedeutenden Verletzungen von Menschenrechten“9, sind weit ent­
fernt vom Alltagsleben und der Realität des EGMR.
Beschwerden können aus strukturellen oder aus individuellen
Gründen wichtig und dringlich sein. Strukturelle Gründe werden
durch Beschwerden aufgeworfen, welche (wie z.B. Pilot-Urteils-
Verfahren) die Effektivität des EMRK-Systems wesentlich beeinflus­
sen, oder welche offensichtliche Fragen des Allgemeininteresses
betreffen (z.B. Verfahrensgarantien im Sinne des Kudła-Falles,10
Staatenbeschwerden).
Individuelle Gründe werden durch Beschwerden aufgeworfen, wel­
che Einzelpersonen zentral und/oder speziell dringlich betreffen (z.B.
Recht auf Leben, Folter- und Sklavereiverbot, widerrechtliche
Inhaftierung, Gefahren für Leben und Gesundheit).

8
 L. Wildhaber (Fn. 5), 29–30, 36–38, 89–90, 108–10, 118–23, 129, 145–49.
9
 Als Beispiel diene F. Benoît-Rohmer, Il faut sauver le recours individuel…, 38
Recueil Dalloz 2584–2590, 2586 (2003), die schreibt, dies „implique d’abord qu’existent
dans le domaine des droits de l’homme des préjudices moins importants que d’autres.
Il y aurait ainsi des violations trop insignifiantes pour qu’elles méritent de retenir
l’attention de la Cour … Au regard de l’idée des droits de l’homme, une telle idée appa­
raît bien contradictoire, car ou bien il y a violation des droits del’homme ou bien il n’y
en a pas“.
10
 EGMR, Kudła v. Poland, Urteil vom 26. Oktober 2000, Appl. No. 30210/96.
 europäischer gerichtshof für menschenrechte 1829

Es ist zuzugeben, dass die Unterscheidung zwischen strukturellen

und individuellen Gründen einigermaßen gekünstelt ist, weil Beschwer­­
den häufig beide Elemente enthalten (z.B. Probleme der Nicht-
Diskriminierung, wo ein Einzelfall offensichtlich präjudizielle Wirkung
haben sollte, sodass ein Urteil in allen Mitgliedstaaten seine Wirkung
entfalten sollte).
Die Setzung von Prioritäten bei der Behandlung von Beschwerden
wird voraussichtlich nicht zu einer Abnahme der Arbeitslast des EGMR
führen. Wichtige und dringliche Beschwerden sind meist komplex und
arbeitsintensiv; sie bedingen statistische, ökonomische oder andersar­
tige Abklärungen; sie setzen rechtsvergleichende Untersuchungen vor­
aus; der Sachverhalt muss häufig näher überprüft werden; und die
umstrittene Natur zahlreicher solcher Beschwerden kompliziert die
Diskussionen und die Abläufe. Alles in allem wird der Gerichtshof
daher vermutlich weniger Beschwerden als in den letzten Jahren ent­
scheiden können. Die Zahl der hängigen und der „Backlog“-
Beschwerden wird weiter anwachsen. Gerade weil die jahrelange
Erfahrung aber gezeigt hat, dass die Beschwerdenzahl ohnehin unwi­
derstehlich zunimmt, ist es dennoch völlig richtig, Prioritäten zu set­
zen und zu befolgen.
Wenn der EGMR seine jüngsten Beschlüsse befolgt (und das sollte
er), so sollten mit der Zeit alle hängigen, prioritären Beschwerden
behandelt werden und aus dem „Backlog“verschwinden. Die neu ein­
treffenden, prioritären Beschwerden sollten ständig beschleunigt
untersucht und entschieden werden, mit dem Ergebnis, dass neue pri­
oritäre Beschwerden gar nicht mehr zu einem „Backlog“ werden könn­
ten. Dieses voraussichtliche Resultat befriedigt zweifellos. Ein
Menschenrechtsgerichtshof sollte in der Tat die wichtigen und dringli­
chen Beschwerden innerhalb einer vernünftiger Frist beurteilen, wenn
er sich an seine eigene Ermahnung halten will, dass die EMRK-
Garantien greifbar und effektiv bleiben und nicht bloß illusorisch sein
sollten.11

11
 Siehe etwa EGMR, Tyrer v. United Kingdom, Urteil vom 25. April 1978, Appl. No.
5856/72, Rn. 31; Marckx v. Belgium, Urteil vom 13. Juni 1979, Appl. No. 6833/74, Rn.
41; Selmouni v. France, Urteil vom 28. Juli 1999, Appl. No. 25803/94, Rn. 101; Stafford
v. United Kingdom, Urteil vom 28. Mai 2002, Appl. No. 46295/9, Rn. 68; Christine
Goodwin v. United Kingdom, Urteil vom 11. Juli 2002, Appl. No. 28957/95, Rn. 74;
Mamatkulov and Askarov v. Turkey, Urteil vom 4. Mai 2005, Appl. Nos. 46827/99,
46951/99, Rn. 101, 121; Sergey Zolotukhin v. Russia, Urteil vom 10. Februar 2009, Appl.
No. 14939/03, Rn. 78.
1830 luzius wildhaber

E. Nicht-dringliche „Backlog“-Fälle

So weit, so gut. Und was soll nun mit den Tausenden, ja Zehntausenden
der anderen, nicht so wichtigen und dringlichen Beschwerden gesche­
hen? Was mit den Routinebeschwerden, von denen nach wie vor deut­
lich über 90% unzulässig erklärt werden? Oder mit den „offensichtlich
wohlbegründeten“, meist repetitiven Beschwerden? Das ist und bleibt
die schwere Bürde des EGMR, sein ungelöstes, scheinbar unlösbares
Problem, das er wie einen Geburtsfehler zu tragen hat.
Im Folgenden werde ich weder auf alle Fragen möglicher Reformen
eingehen noch den Plan der Interlaken-Konferenz vom Februar 2010
besprechen.12 Ich beschränke mich darauf, zu prüfen, ob man die
nicht-dringlichen „Backlog“-Fälle einer speziellen, rascheren
Beurteilung zuführen könnte. Der Fantasie sind hier relativ enge
Grenzen gesetzt, weil – wie bereits erwähnt – für neu eintreffende und
schon hängige Beschwerden dieselben Kriterien gelten. Beschwerden,
die offensichtlich unbegründet sind, oder die keine wesentlichen Nach­
teile darlegen, können somit unzulässig erklärt werden.13 In der Praxis
der letzten Jahre bedeutete dies, dass Beschwerden aus kleinen und
mittelgroßen Ländern, sogar aus Deutschland, Frankreich und Groß­
britannien im großen Ganzen innerhalb akzeptabler Fristen beurteilt
wurden. Je mehr Beschwerden ein Land zu verzeichnen hatte, desto
mehr ergaben sich daraus zeitliche Rückstände in der Behandlung.
Diejenigen fünf Länder, welche am meisten Beschwerden aufzuweisen
haben (Russland 28,3%, Türkei 11,3%, Rumänien 8,6%, Ukraine 7,6%,
Italien 7,0%)14, weisen auch die höchste Zahl von „Backlog“-Fällen auf.
Soll man Beschwerden aus den genannten fünf Ländern einfach mit
einer Art „benign neglect“15 behandeln und sie im Halbdunkel belas­
sen? Diese Frage drängt sich auf, weil vom EGMR (mit seinen jetzigen
Strukturen und budgetären Mitteln) fairer Weise nicht verlangt

12
Die Erklärung von Interlaken vom 19. Februar 2010 („High Level Conference“
über die Zukunft des EGMR) ermutigte zu dem hier besprochenen Setzen von
Prioritäten in der Präambel (PP 9 ii) und im Aktionsplan (A 2 und E 10 b).
13
Vgl. auch Art. 35 EMRK, sowie die erstmalige Anwendung des neuen
Zulässigkeitskriteriums des 14. Zusatzprotokolls in Adrian Mihai Ionescu v. Romania,
Zulässigkeitsentscheidung vom 1. Juni 2010, Appl. No. 36659/04.
14
Diese Prozentsätze stammen von Ende Oktober 2010 und berechnen sich von
den hängigen, einer juristischen Formation zugewiesenen Beschwerden.
15
Diese politisch durchaus unkorrekte Formulierung geht auf den seinerzeitigen
New Yorker Senator Moynihan zurück, der empfahl, in der Frage der Gleichbehandlung
der Schwarzen mit „benign neglect“vorzugehen.
 europäischer gerichtshof für menschenrechte 1831

werden kann, dass er Unmögliches vollbringt. Die Überlastung des

EGMR oder mangelnde finanzielle Mittel gelten nicht als Gründe,
Beschwerden unzulässig zu erklären. Der EGMR ist deswegen dazu
verdammt, Prioritäten zu wählen, und das bedeutet, dass er unaus­
weichlicher Weise die Nicht-Prioritäten vernachlässigen wird und ver­
nachlässigen muss.
Wenn der EGMR mehr finanzielle Mittel erhält (und dies war in
den letzten Jahren in begrenztem Ausmaß der Fall), mehr juristisches
Personal anstellt, mehr Unzulässigkeitsentscheide und Sachurteile
produziert (und auch dies traf in den letzten Jahren zu), werden auch
die Richter stärker belastet. Man könnte sich deshalb fragen, ob man
nicht ein spezielles „Backlog“-Schema begründen sollte, wie es in ver­
schiedenen Staaten für Probleme überlasteter nationaler Gerichte
besteht. Man könnte ehemalige EGMR-Richter oder speziell delegierte
oder zurückgetretene nationale Richter mit der Beurteilung von Fällen
betrauen. Wichtige und dringliche Beschwerden sollten den ordentli­
chen EGMR-Richtern vorbehalten bleiben. Eventuell sollte man den
regulär gewählten EGMR-Richtern sogar ein Evokationsrecht oder ein
Kontrollrecht gegenüber den „special Backlog“-Richtern zugestehen.
Die „special Backlog“-Richter könnten aber durchaus repetitive oder
aufgrund einer bestehenden Rechtsprechung offensichtlich wohlbe­
gründete Beschwerden beurteilen. Erst recht könnten sie offensichtlich
unbegründete oder aus anderen Gründen unzulässige Beschwerden
herausfiltern.
Eine solche Spezialbehandlung von Beschwerden, die seit einer
gewissen Zeit hängig sind, vermöchte die ordentlichen EGMR-Richter
zu entlasten. Wunder sollte man jedoch nicht erwarten. Denn eine sol­
che Spezialbehandlung wäre ohnehin auf zusätzliches Personal im
Greffe (Kanzlei) des EGMR angewiesen, wenn rasche Fortschritte
erzielt werden sollten. Nur nochmals weitergehende Modifikationen
(welche wohl eine formelle EMRK-Änderung voraussetzen würden
und zur Zeit politisch wenig Chancen hätten) vermöchten eine rasche
Reduktion der Arbeitslast des EGMR zu bewirken.16

16
Dazu L. Wildhaber, Ein Überdenken des Zustands und der Zukunft des
EGMR, 36 Europäische Grundrechte Zeitschrift 541–553, 550–551 (2010). Ich stelle
in diesem Artikel ein System vor, welches auf einer Zweiteilung beruht. Die
besonders wichtigen und dringlichen Fälle würden behandelt wie bisher, während
dem alle anderen Beschwerden nach einem „leave to appeal“-System behandelt
würden, in dem jedes Jahr etwa 800–1000 Fälle beurteilt würden, während
die anderen (unzulässigen, unbedeutenden oder repetitiven) Beschwerden
zurückgewiesen werden müssten. Weniger weitgehende, aber ebenfalls
1832 luzius wildhaber

F. Ein skeptisches Schlusswort

Bei der Lektüre der Überlegungen dieses Artikels wird man zum
Ergebnis gelangen, dass das vorgestellte Schema von „special Backlog“-
Richtern gewisse Vorteile haben und etliche Verfahrensbeschleu­
nigungen bewirken könnte. Mit Bedauern wird man aber auch
feststellen müssen, dass keine raschen oder gar sofortigen Erfolge zu
erzielen sind. Darüber sollte man sich nicht zu sehr wundern.
Zahlreiche offensichtliche Lösungsvorschläge sind zwar bekannt.
Jedoch gelten gerade die offenkundigeren Ideen als politisch unkorrekt
und chancenlos.
Der EGMR hat mit großer Flexibilität und immer wieder neuen
Anstrengungen eine Vielzahl möglicher Verfahrensverbes­ serungen
und -vereinfachungen geprüft und teilweise eingeführt. Er darf
beanspruchen, dass ohne diese Anstrengungen das Gesamtbild der
Arbeits­last noch wesentlich düsterere Farben hätte. Es bleibt jedoch
unverkennbar, dass alle bisherigen Änderungen das Problem der
Überlastung nicht zu lösen vermochten.
Seit Jahren bin ich davon überzeugt, dass man versuchen muss, das
Problem in den Griff zu bekommen, bevor die Glaubwürdigkeit des
EGMR dauerhaften Schaden erleidet. Weitere Anstrengungen bleiben
erforderlich.

einschneidende Vorschläge werden formuliert von E. Fribergh, Bringing rights home,

or How to deal with repetitive applications in the future (Round Table-Contribution to
the Conference of 21–22 September 2009 in Bled, Slovenia, Hektographie).
 Advisory Jurisdiction: Lessons from Recent
Practice

Michael Wood

Rüdiger Wolfrum has long experience as a member, and President, of

an international court, the International Tribunal for the Law of the
Sea. The Tribunal itself has a potentially wide if somewhat controver-
sial advisory jurisdiction. The Seabed Disputes Chamber of the
Tribunal, on which Judge Wolfrum also sits, has advisory jurisdiction
in certain deep seabed matters and delivered its first advisory opinion
on 1 February 2011.1
In addition to the first advisory opinion of the Seabed Disputes
Chamber, the 2010 opinion of the International Court of Justice on the
Declaration of independence in respect of Kosovo,2 together with its 2004
opinion on the Wall in the Occupied Palestinian Territory case,3 have
enhanced interest in the advisory jurisdiction.4
It seems therefore appropriate, in a volume offered to Rüdiger
Wolfrum, to revisit certain questions concerning the advisory jurisdic-
tion of international courts and tribunals.5 The aim is not to provide a
comprehensive account. There is already an ample literature.6 The

1
 ITLOS, Responsibilities and Obligations of States sponsoring persons and entities
with respect to activities in the Area, Seabed Disputes Chamber of the International
Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, Advisory Opinion of 1 February 2011, to be published
in ITLOS Reports 2011 (hereafter Responsibilities and Obligations case), available at
http://www.itlos.org.
2
Accordance with international law of the unilateral declaration of independence in
respect of Kosovo, Advisory Opinion of 22 July 2010, available at http://www.icj-cij.org.
3
Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian
Territory, ICJ Reports 2004, 136.
4
 See, also, the latest request for an advisory opinion from the International Court
of Justice, made by the Executive Board of the International Fund for Agricultural
Development (IFAD): Judgment No. 2867 of the Administrative Tribunal of the
International Labour Organization upon a complaint filed against the International
Fund for Agricultural Development, Orders of 29 April 2010 and 24 January 2011.
5
Professor Wolfrum presented a paper on advisory opinions at a seminar held in
Heidelberg on 3 November 2010: R. Wolfrum, Advisory Opinions, to be published in
R. Wolfrum/I. Gätschmann (eds.), International Dispute Settlement: Room for
Innovations.
6
 See, for example, K. Keith, The Extent of the Advisory Jurisdiction of the
International Court of Justice (1971); D. Pratap, The Advisory Jurisdiction of the
1834 michael wood

present contribution deals mainly with two recent advisory proceed-

ings, the Kosovo case before the International Court of Justice (ICJ)7
and the Responsibilities and Obligations case before the Seabed Disputes
Chamber.8
This contribution focuses on the initiation and reception of advisory
opinions by the requesting organ, and the procedures employed by
international courts and tribunals, in particular the International
Court of Justice and the Seabed Disputes Chamber, when called upon
to exercise their advisory jurisdiction. It is concerned too, albeit indi-
rectly, with broader questions such as the usefulness of advisory pro-
ceedings, as to which doubts are expressed from time to time.9 The
procedural issues and the broader questions are not unrelated. Some of
the doubts arise precisely because of perceived inadequacies in
procedures.
The first part of this contribution recalls briefly the range of interna-
tional courts and tribunals with advisory jurisdiction (Section I). The
second reviews recent practice, with particular reference to the Kosovo
and Responsibilities and Obligations cases (Section II). The third sec-
tion considers what lessons may be learnt from recent practice for the
three principal stages of the procedure: the request for an advisory

International Court of Justice (1972); M. Pomerance, The Advisory Function of the

International Court in the League and UN Eras (1972); C. Espósito, La Jurisdicción
Consultiva de la Corte Internacional de Justicia (1996); G. Abi-Saab, On Discretion:
Reflections on the Nature of the Consultative Function of the International Court of
Justice, in: L. Boisson de Chazournes/P. Sands (eds.), International Law, the
International Court of Justice and Nuclear Weapons, 36 (1999); H. Thirlway, The Law
and Procedure of the International Court of Justice 1960–1989: Part Eleven, 71 BYBIL
71 (2000); R. Higgins, The New Challenges and the Role of the International Court of
Justice, in: P. Fernández-Sánchez (ed.), The New Challenges of Humanitarian Law in
Armed Conflicts, 244 (2005); M. Aliaghoub, The Advisory Function of the International
Court of Justice (1945–2005) (2006); S. Rosenne, The Law and Practice of the
International Court 1922–2005, Chapters 5 and 30 (2006); A. Zimmermann et al.
(eds.), The Statute of the International Court of Justice: A Commentary (2006);
H. Thirlway, Advisory Opinions, in: R. Wolfrum (ed.), The Max Planck Encyclopedia
of Public International Law, Oxford University Press (2008), online edition http://
www.mpepil.com.
7
 Note 2 above.
8
 Note 1 above.
9
 See, for example, R. Higgins, A Comment on the Current Health of Advisory
Proceedings, in: V. Lowe/M. Fitzmaurice (eds.), Fifty Years of the International Court
of Justice, Essays in Honour of Sir Robert Jennings, 567 (1996), reprinted in: R. Higgins,
Themes and Theories. Selected Essays, Speeches, and Writings in International Law, at
1043 (2009); F. D. Berman, The Uses and Abuses of Advisory Opinions, in: N. Ando/E.
McWhinney/R. Wolfrum (eds.), Liber Amicorum Judge Shigeru Oda, 809 (2002);
A. Aust, Advisory Opinions, 1 Journal of International Dispute Settlement, 123 (2010).
 advisory jurisdiction: lessons from recent practice1835

opinion; the written and oral pleadings; and the “reception” of the
opinion by the requesting organ (Section III).

A. Courts and Tribunals with Advisory Jurisdiction

The main international court with advisory jurisdiction, and the one
with which this contribution is principally concerned, is the
International Court of Justice (together with its predecessor, the
Permanent Court of International Justice). But it should be recalled
that other courts and tribunals have important advisory functions.
For example, the Inter-American Court of Human Rights10 has a broad
advisory jurisdiction under Article 64 of the American Con­vention on
Human Rights,11 which provides:
“1. 
The member states of the Organization may consult the Court
regarding the interpretation of this Convention or of other treaties
concerning the protection of human rights in the American states.
Within their spheres of competence, the organs listed in Chapter X of
the Charter of the Organization of American States, as amended by
the Protocol of Buenos Aires, may in like manner consult the Court.
2.    The Court, at the request of a member state of the Organization, may
provide that state with opinions regarding the compatibility of any of
its domestic laws with the aforesaid international instruments.”
As of January 2011, the Inter-American Court had given 20 advisory
opinions.
The Seabed Disputes Chamber of the International Tribunal for the
Law of the Sea has jurisdiction, under the United Nations Convention
on the Law of the Sea, to give an advisory opinion at the request of the
Assembly or the Council of the International Seabed Authority on legal
questions arising within the scope of their activities.12 In its first
10
 T. Buergenthal, The Advisory Practice of the Inter-American Human Rights
Court, in: P. Nikken et al. (eds.), La Corte Interamericanos de derechos humanos:
Estudios y documentos, 27 (1999); J. M. Pasqualucci/T. Buergenthal, The Practice and
Procedure of the Inter-American Court of Human Rights (2003); J. C. Schmid,
Advisory Opinions on Human Rights: Moving beyond a Pyrrhic Victory, 16 Duke
Journal of Comparative and International Law 123 (2006).
11
 In 1982, the Court stated that “Article 64 of the Convention confers upon this
Court an advisory jurisdiction that is more extensive than that enjoyed by any interna-
tional tribunal in existence today”: “Other Treaties” subject to the advisory jurisdiction
of the Court (Article 64 American Convention on Human Rights), Advisory Opinion of
24 September 1982, I/A CHR (Ser. A) No 1, para. 25.
12
Articles 159, para. 10 and 191 of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the
Sea, 10 December 1982, UNTS Vol. 1833, No. 31363, 397.
1836 michael wood

advisory opinion, the Chamber described itself as “a separate

judicial body within the Tribunal entrusted, through its advisory and
contentious jurisdiction, with the exclusive function of interpret­
ing Part XI of the Convention and the relevant annexes and regula­
tions that are the legal basis for the organization and management of
activities in the Area.”13 In addition, Article 138 paragraph 1 of the
Rules of the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea provides
that “the Tribunal may give an advisory opinion on a legal question if
an international agreement related to the purposes of the Convention
specifically provides for the submission to the Tribunal of a request for
such an opinion.” This provision was presumably included in the
Rules on the basis of the Article in the Tribunal’s Statute which
provides that the Tribunal’s jurisdiction comprises, inter alia, “all mat
ters specifically provided for in any other agreement which confers
jurisdiction on the Tribunal”.14 No advisory opinion has been
sought under Article 138, the legal basis for which is somewhat
controversial.15
The Court of Justice of the European Union has jurisdiction to give
opinions of various kinds. In particular, under Article 218 paragraph
11 of the Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union, a Member
State, the European Parliament, the Council or the Commission may
obtain the opinion of the European Court of Justice as to whether an
agreement envisaged to be entered into by the Union with a third coun-
try or an international organization is compatible with the Treaty on
European Union or the Treaty on the Functioning of the European
Union.16
Under Article 47 of the European Convention for the Protection of
Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms, the European Court of
Human Rights (ECtHR) has a very narrow jurisdiction to give advisory
opinions, which it has exercised on only two occasions over forty

13
Responsibilities and Obligations case (note 1), para. 25.
14
 United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (note 12), Annex VI, Article 21.
15
P. Chandrasekhara Rao/P. Gautier, The Rules of the International Tribunal for the
Law of the Sea: A Commentary, at 393–394 (2006); Y. Ki-Jun, Advisory Opinions of the
International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea: Article 138 of the Rules of the Tribunal,
Revisited, 39 Ocean Development and International Law 360 (2008); T. Ndiaye, The
Advisory Function of the International Tribunal for the Law of the Sea, 9 Chinese
Journal of International Law 565 (2010).
16
Where the opinion of the Court is adverse, the agreement envisaged may not
enter into force unless it is amended or the Treaties are revised.
 advisory jurisdiction: lessons from recent practice1837

years.17 The African Court on Human and People’s Rights, on the other
hand, has a broad advisory jurisdiction, though this has yet to be exer-
cised.18 Another court with advisory jurisdiction, the Economic Court
of the Commonwealth of Independent States, has been particularly
active in its function of giving interpretative decisions and advisory
opinions.19
Thus a large number of international courts and tribunals have some
advisory jurisdiction, in addition to jurisdiction in contentious cases.
The scope of the advisory jurisdiction varies from the very narrow, as
with the European Court of Human Rights, to the broad, in particular
the International Court of Justice. In practice, few international courts
and tribunals exercise their advisory jurisdiction regularly, or at all,
though the potential is there–as the recent proceedings before the
Seabed Disputes Chamber show. The courts most active in the advisory
field have, so far, been the International Court of Justice, which together
with its predecessor, the Permanent Court of International Justice, has,
as of January 2011, rendered 53 opinions,20 and the Inter-American
Court of Human Rights (20 opinions).

17
Article 47, para. 2 excludes many matters, by providing that the ECtHR’s opinions
“shall not deal with any question relating to the content or scope of the rights or free-
doms defined in Section I of the Convention and the protocols thereto, or with any
other question which the Court or the Committee of Ministers might have to consider
in consequence of any such proceedings as could be instituted in accordance with the
Convention”. The ECtHR has given two Opinions (on 12 February 2008 and 22 January
2010, both on questions concerning the lists of candidates submitted with a view to the
election of judges to the European Court of Human Rights). Earlier, on 2 June 2004, the
Court declined to give an Opinion, because it was not within its competence under
Protocol No. 2, on the matter raised in Recommendation 1519 (2001) of the
Parliamentary Assembly concerning “the co-existence of the Convention on Human
Rights and Fundamental Freedoms of the Commonwealth of Independent States and
the European Convention on Human Rights”. The provision on advisory opinions used
to be contained in Protocol No. 2 to the Convention, which entered into force in 1970.
18
Protocol to the African Charter on Human and People’s Rights on the
Establishment of an African Court on Human and People’s Rights, 10 June 1998,
Article 4, provides that the Court may give advisory opinions on “any legal matter
relating to the Charter or any other relevant human rights instrument provided the
subject matter of the opinion is not related to a matter being examined by the African
Commission”.
19
A. Douhan, Advisory Jurisdiction of the CIS Economic Court: A New Means of
Settlement of International Disputes in the Region?, to be published in: R. Wolfrum/
I. Gätschmann, International Dispute Settlement: Room for Innovations; R. Wolfrum,
in his paper at note 5 above, citing M. Hudson, mentions other international bodies
that were or are empowered to issue advisory opinions.
20
The PCIJ rendered 27 opinions in its 17 years of activity, while the present Court
has rendered 26 opinions in the last 65 years.
1838 michael wood

B. Recent Practice of the International Court of Justice

and the Seabed Disputes Chamber

The advantages and disadvantages of advisory proceedings have been

much debated. In considering the following comments, care should be
taken to avoid generalizations. The nature of advisory opinions is
diverse, and it is scarcely possible to speak in general terms.
It may be helpful to begin by recalling, first, that the ICJ has stated
that “the purpose of the advisory function is not to settle–at least
directly–disputes between States, but to offer legal advice to the organs
and institutions requesting the opinion”.21
Second, given the nature of the courts and tribunals concerned,
which do not have legislative functions, the purpose of the advi­
sory procedure should not be seen as to develop the law, though that
may sometimes be the outcome, not least as regards United Nations
law.22
It has been suggested that “because they are not limited to a strict
analysis of facts, advisory opinions offer a court (or tribunal) a much
greater potential to develop the law than do judgments in contentious
proceedings”,23 but this is not in itself to be a reason for promoting
advisory proceedings.24 It has been suggested that the fact that advisory
proceedings are, by definition, on legal questions, and are not fact-
intensive, assists a court to develop the law. However, some advisory
proceedings have involved, or ought to have involved, a great deal of
factual investigation: Western Sahara, the Wall, and Kosovo come to
mind. And moreover, one of the main difficulties with some advisory

21
Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons, ICJ Reports 1996, 226, 236, para.
15.
22
Advisory opinions which are seen as having contributed to international law
include Reparation for injury suffered in the service of the United Nations, ICJ Reports
1949, 174; Reservations to the Convention on Genocide, ICJ Reports 1951, 15; Certain
expenses of the United Nations (Article 17, para. 2, of the Charter), ICJ Reports 1962,
151; Legal Consequences for States of the Continued Presence of South Africa in Namibia
(South West Africa) notwithstanding Security Council Resolution 276 (1970), ICJ
Reports 1971, 16; Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons, ICJ Reports 1996,
226; Legal Consequences of the Construction of a Wall in the Occupied Palestinian
Territory, ICJ Reports 2004, 136.
23
J. Kateka, Advisory proceedings before the Seabed Disputes Chamber and before
the ITLOS as a full court, paper written for the seminar referred to at note 5 above,
citing M. Lachs, Some reflections on the contribution of the ICJ to the development of
international law, 10 Syracuse Journal of International Law and Commerce 239, at 249
(2004).
24
 See below.
 advisory jurisdiction: lessons from recent practice1839

proceedings is precisely that the judges find themselves opining on the

law in the abstract. Without the rigour that a detailed factual back-
ground gives to a case the judges can themselves only respond in gen-
eral and largely abstract terms.
So the development of the law is not the principal objective of advi-
sory proceedings. The law has been “developed” at least as much in
contentious cases, based on, and argued on the basis of, real facts.
Indeed, it may be that the law is better developed (or rather clarified or
crystallized or revealed) on the basis of concrete cases, with real facts,
not on the basis of abstract reasoning, divorced from actual situations.
The Responsibilities and Obligations opinion25 could have been a case in
point; it might have been difficult or even hazardous for the Seabed
Disputes Chamber to opine on the questions put to it in the abstract,
when those questions might later come before it in a contentious case.
In fact, while the Chamber gave a more detailed opinion than some
had expected, on the whole its opinion seems likely to be helpful to
those operating within the deep seabed system, and to have largely
avoided giving hostages to fortune.
It is sometimes suggested that the advisory procedure could assist in
the settlement of disputes, including disputes between states, or at least
for resolving those aspects of a dispute involving legal issues.26 Reference
is made in this connection to the reluctance of states in some regions,
such as Asia, to take matters to court. Indeed, at the Heidelberg
seminar it was suggested that advisory proceedings could be used to
settle disputes between states, and that among their advantages were
openness (to participation by other states, and by organizations and
even representatives of the international community), transparency,
flexibility of procedure, and speed.27 It is not obvious, however, that all

25
 See note 1 above.
26
 See the proposal by Secretary-General Boutros-Ghali that the Secretary-General
should be given the power to request advisory opinions when the parties to a dispute
so wanted (in preference to taking their dispute to a Court in the usual way): Agenda
for Peace (1992)–a suggestion that was not followed.
27
 For the Seabed Disputes Chamber, UNCLOS provides that opinions requested by
the Assembly and the Council of the International Seabed Authority “shall be given as
a matter of urgency” (Article 191). The Responsibilities and Obligations opinion took
eight and a half months from the request to delivery. But it is not the case that all advi-
sory proceedings are treated as a matter of urgency. In the ICJ, that is only done if the
requesting organ so requests. Some opinions have taken a considerable time, for exam-
ple, the Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons opinion took 18 months from
start to finish and the Kosovo opinion took over 21 months.
1840 michael wood

litigating states would necessarily regard each of these characteristics

as advantages.
The use of advisory proceedings to settle disputes between states is
only possible where there is agreement between the parties. As the
Court has noted, a “distinction should (…) be drawn between the advi-
sory nature of the Court’s task and the particular effects that parties to
an existing dispute may wish to attribute, in their mutual relations, to
an advisory opinion of the Court, which, ‘as such, (…) has no binding
force’”.28
The Permanent Court of International Justice (PCIJ) did indeed deal
with a number of disputes in this way, but account must be taken of the
important difference in the procedure for requesting advisory opinions
at the time of the League. All opinions were sought by the Council of
the League, acting unanimously (with the formal exclusion of the par-
ties to the dispute). The League Assembly did not make any such
request.29 The contrast with the position under the Charter, where most
opinions have been sought by the Assembly, often by a divided vote,
could not be starker. Under the Charter, the Security Council has only
once requested an advisory opinion.30 The General Assembly has
requested advisory opinions on most of the other occasions, often with
a very divided vote. It has done so (as have other organs) with relative
ease. For the General Assembly to seek to use the advisory procedure
to settle disputes between states without their consent would breach
the consensual basis of the Court’s jurisdiction.
To the extent that an advisory opinion requires the Court to decide
on matters in issue between two states, there is a danger of overriding
the requirement of consent that underlies inter-state litigation. It is not
a sufficient answer to this to say that the opinion is not legally binding
and addressed to the organ that requested it. Or that states have agreed
to the advisory procedure in the constituent instruments of the inter-
national courts and tribunals.31 Given that they carry considerable
authority, they may in practice be at least as constraining in fact on
states as any international judgment.

28
Difference Relating to Immunity from Legal Process of a Special Rapporteur of the
Commission on Human Rights, ICJ Reports 1999, 62, 77, para. 25.
29
 S. Rosenne, The Law and Practice of the International Court 1922–2005, at 274
(2006).
30
 Security Council resolution 284 (1970) of 29 July 1970: Legal Consequences for
States of the Continued Presence of South Africa in Namibia (South West Africa) not-
withstanding Security Council Resolution 276 (1970), ICJ Reports 1971, 16.
31
Though Eastern Carelia might suggest the opposite.
 advisory jurisdiction: lessons from recent practice1841

On the other hand, advisory proceedings may sometimes be an

appropriate way to settle dispute involving persons other than states,
such as international organizations32 and individuals, where this is
done on the basis of agreement.33
The view is still sometimes expressed that the Court should not ren-
der an advisory opinion when the subject is politically controversial.34
But the Court has routinely rejected such arguments, both in advisory
and in contentious cases, and it seems unlikely that they will be any
more successful in the future. The Court “has repeatedly stated that the
fact that a question has political aspects does not suffice to deprive it of
its character as a legal question.”35
Turning next to the procedures at the International Court, it is nota-
ble that these have often served as a model for other international
courts and tribunals. Thus the Seabed Disputes Chamber, in most
respects, has sensibly followed ICJ practice. The Statute and Rules of
Court allow the ICJ a large measure of flexibility in how it organizes
advisory proceedings. The Court has usually sought to tailor its proce-
dures to the particular case, especially on questions such as whether to
have one or two rounds of written pleadings, whether to hold oral
hearings, and if so whether to have one or two rounds and in which
order and for how long to hear the participants.
The underlying conception seems to be that the participants in advi-
sory proceedings are there to assist the Court, not to defend their own
rights or legal positions, and to assist the Court with “information”. As
a result, and by contrast with contentious cases, an adversarial dialogue

32
As, for example, under the procedure foreseen in Article 30 of the General
Convention on the Privileges and Immunities of the United Nations, which was applied
in the Cumaraswamy case, and in Article 66, para. 2 of the Vienna Convention on the
Law of Treaties between States and International Organizations or between
International Organizations, 21 March 1986, not yet in force; see R. Ago, “Binding”
Advisory Opinions of the International Court of Justice, 85 AJIL 499 (1991); C.
Brower/P. Bekker, Understanding “Binding” Advisory Opinions of the International
Court of Justice, in: N. Ando/E. McWhinney/R. Wolfrum (eds.), Liber Amicorum
Judge Shigeru Oda, 351 (2002); S. Rosenne, The Law and Practice of the International
Court 1922–2005, at 277 (2006).
33
As in the case of the former procedure for the review of United Nations
Administrative Tribunal judgments: see M. Wood, United Nations Administrative
Tribunal, Applications for Review (Advisory Opinions), in: R. Wolfrum (ed.), The Max
Planck Encyclopedia of Public International Law, Oxford University Press (2008),
online edition http://www.mpepil.com. The procedure still exists with respect to the
ILO Administrative Tribunal.
34
 For example, A. Aust, (note 9).
35
Accordance with international law of the unilateral declaration of independence in
respect of Kosovo (note 2), para. 27.
1842 michael wood

is not normally seen as fundamental to the proceedings. The partici-

pants are not encouraged, and indeed are often not given the opportu-
nity, to respond to what others say, especially in the oral proceedings.
And since states may take part in the oral proceedings without
having submitted anything in writing, there may be no opportunity
whatsoever for one state or other participant to respond to another.
They are usually at the mercy of the French or English alphabetical
order (either of which, as it happens, tends to favour the United
Kingdom, in so far as it comes towards the end). For example,
in the Responsibilities and Obligations case the main mover of the
request for an opinion, the Republic of Nauru, appeared late in the list
of oral participants, and set out new arguments that had not been
addressed in the written pleadings, or on the oral pleadings of those
speaking before it. Thus most participants were not able to respond
to what they had to say; the United Kingdom (Royaume-Uni) and the
Russian Federation were the immediately following speakers,
and so could respond, to a limited degree. Since it could have been
anticipated that Nauru would be representing a particular point of
view, it might have been more helpful in order to bring out the argu-
ments if Nauru had been invited to speak first among the participating
states.
Another issue of considerable practical importance is the question
of participation in advisory proceedings. The Court has considerable
discretion in the organization of advisory proceedings. The practice of
the Court (as well as that of the Permanent Court) indicates that the
Court has approached the question of participation flexibly.36 This was
demonstrated in the Wall case, in which the Court recognized the par-
ticular position and interests of Palestine in relation to the question put
to the Court. As the Court has frequently recognized, equality of the
parties and audi alteram partem are fundamental principles in all
judicial proceedings.37 This includes advisory proceedings.38 Likewise,
in the Kosovo case, “the authors” of the Declaration of Independence
were invited to participate on a basis of equality with other partici-
pants, including the Republic of Serbia.39 They were the first two

36
 S. Rosenne, The Law and Practice of the International Court, 1920–2005, at 1671–
1674 (2006).
37
 Id., at 1048–1052.
38
K. Keith, The Extent of the Advisory Jurisdiction of the International Court of
Justice, at 157–164 (1971).
39
 Order of 17 October 2008, ICJ Reports 2008, 407.
 advisory jurisdiction: lessons from recent practice1843

speakers, and were given significantly more time than other partici-
pants. A number of representatives who spoke in the General Assembly
debate at which the resolution requesting the opinion was adopted had
stressed the importance of Kosovo being able to present its views to the
Court.
The participation of interested international organizations in
advisory proceedings is usually approached with a degree of flexibility.
It is not confined to the UN specialized agencies. Thus the League of
Arab States, the Organization of the Islamic Conference and the
European Union participated in the Wall proceedings. However, in the
International Fund for Agricultural Development (IFAD) case, the ICJ
invited those specialized agencies of the United Nations which had
accepted the jurisdiction of the ILO Administrative Tribunal, but it
did not invite the Global Mechanism of the United Nations Con­ven­
tion to Combat Desertification40, which was directly implicated in the
matters before the Court. In the Responsibilities and Obligations
case, two international organizations took part in the written stage:
the Interoceanmetal Joint Organization41 and the Intergovernmental
Oceanographic Commission of the United Nations Educational,
Scientific and Cultural Organization (IOC). At the oral stage there
were also two organizations taking part: the IOC and the International
Union for Conservation of Nature and Natural Resources (IUCN).
A question that arises is how far those representing international
organizations before the court or tribunal actually express policy and
legal positions agreed by the policy organs of the organizations
concerned. To the extent they do not, it must be questionable how far
they are entitled to speak authoritatively in the name of the organiza-
tion. Certainly, they should express themselves with discretion in this
regard.
A related question has arisen where the case involves the employ-
ment rights of individuals. Here the practice has been for the proceed-
ings to be entirely in writing.42 This is apparently because it is not felt

40
 Full title: The Global Mechanism of the United Nations Convention to Combat
Desertification in Those Countries Experiencing Serious Drought and/or
Desertification, Particularly in Africa.
41
Although technically an international organization, this body was in fact one of
the pioneer investors.
42
 See, most recently, the case concerning Judgment No. 2867 of the Administrative
Tribunal of the International Labour Organization upon a complaint filed against the
International Fund for Agricultural Development, Orders of 29 April 2010 and 29
January 2011.
1844 michael wood

desirable, and perhaps not even possible,43 to adopt a procedure that

would enable the individual to present his or her case orally. The head
of the international organization has been ordered to transmit to the
Court any (written) statement containing the views of the individual
concerned. Yet in other courts, ways have been found for individuals to
present their arguments orally as well as in writing.
Another issue is whether there should be one or two rounds of writ-
ten pleadings. If the case is a major one involving significantly different
views it would seem desirable to have two rounds, as was done in the
Kosovo case (but not in the Responsibilities and Obligations case).
The reception of the opinion by the requesting organ is in opera-
tional terms the most important stage, but it is rather neglected in the
literature. Since opinions are not, generally, legally binding, what mat-
ters in practice is the effect that those to whom they are addressed, the
requesting organs and, indirectly, its members give to them. Their
impact may be judged not merely by the immediate reaction of the
requesting organ, but by such follow-up as there may be. It is instruc-
tive to look at the Kosovo case.
Following the Kosovo advisory opinion of 22 July 2010, Serbia pro-
posed a draft resolution44, the preamble to which would have said that
the General Assembly was
“Aware that an agreement between the parties on the effects of the unilat-
eral declaration of independence of Kosovo from Serbia had not been
reached,
Mindful of the fact that a unilateral declaration of independence can-
not be an acceptable way of resolving territorial issues”.
In the operative part of the draft, the General Assembly would have
called upon “the parties to find a mutually acceptable solution for all
outstanding issues through peaceful dialogue, in the interests of peace,
security and cooperation in the region”; and would have included an
item on “Follow-up to the advisory opinion” in the provisional agenda
of the sixty-sixth session of the General Assembly.
But, eventually, Serbia did not put its draft to a vote, despite repeat-
edly threatening to do so. Instead it co-sponsored, together with all 27
member states of the European Union, General Assembly resolution

43
 For example, in the ECtHR before 1998, when individuals were not parties to the
case, the Commission included the individual or his or her lawyers among its own
delegation.
44
A/64/L.65.
 advisory jurisdiction: lessons from recent practice1845

64/298, adopted by consensus on 9 September 2010. In this resolution,

the Assembly (1) acknowledged the content of the advisory opinion
and (2) welcomed “the readiness of the European Union to facilitate a
process of dialogue between the parties; the process of dialogue in itself
would be a factor for peace, security and stability in the region, and that
dialogue would be to promote cooperation, achieve progress on the
path to the European Union and improve the lives of the people.”
The outcome in the Assembly was acceptable to Kosovo and its sup-
porters because, in contrast to the original Serbian draft, resolution
64/298 did not imply that status questions remained open. The extent
to which the advisory process, and its outcome in resolution 64/298,
will have contributed to a resolution of outstanding issues remains to
be seen.45

C. Points of Concern at the Three Principal Stages of the

Advisory Procedure

Having briefly surveyed some of the recent practice, we shall now look
at each of the three main stages of the process, the request, the proceed-
ings before the Court, and the reception of the opinion to see what
lessons can be learnt.
The organs empowered to seek advisory opinions have, for the most
part, shown considerable restraint.46 But this is not always the case.
They ought certainly to bear in mind that requests for advisory opin-
ions are not cost-free. They place a heavy responsibility upon what in
some cases are already overburdened courts, as well as on those states
and others that feel the need to participate in the court proceedings.
For this reason alone, a request for an advisory opinion is not some-
thing to be undertaken lightly.
Where the question put, while in form a legal question, is in reality a
highly contentious matter in dispute between states, the risk is obvious
of bringing the Court into disrepute, through no fault of its own. Cases
like those on the Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons, on
the Wall, or on Kosovo placed the Court at the heart of intense political
debate. It was only with considerable care and caution that the Court
avoided alienating a wide section of its constituency. In doing so, it did,

45
 In July 2011, the ISA Assembly took note with appreciation of the Responsibilities
and Obligations opinion (note 1), (ISBA/17/A/9).
46
 I am not aware of any study of advisory opinions that have been proposed, in one
form or another, but not requested. But there are undoubtedly many such cases.
1846 michael wood

in each case, lay itself open to sometimes harsh academic or private

criticism–but that is not a particularly serious matter.
In these circumstances, the most careful consideration should be
given by the requesting organ to the usefulness or otherwise of secur-
ing an opinion. On occasion, they may be seen as harmful both to
international relations and to the court or tribunal concerned. However,
it must be said that in most cases such fears prove to be unfounded, if
only because of the skill and sensitivity of the judges.
The requesting organ needs to take particular care in drafting
the question. Such care was shown, for example, by the Council of the
International Seabed Authority in drafting the questions in the
Responsibilities and Obligations case; Nauru’s original formulations
would have led to a very difficult case for all concerned. That this is
not always the case is shown by the number of times that the Inter­
national Court of Justice has found it necessary to reformulate the
question, sometimes quite substantially, before answering it. And the
requesting organ should be careful not to include prejudicial elements
in either the question or the resolution containing the question. In the
Kosovo case, what may have appeared to be a straightforward ques-
tion47 had at least four prejudicial elements: the superfluous word “uni-
lateral” to describe Kosovo’s declaration of independence, which
recalled such previous cases as Rhodesia’s UDI; the present tense “is”,
which could have suggested that the issue of legality was an ongoing
one; the description of the authors of the declaration as “the Provisional
Institutions of Self-Government”, which may have been intended by
the sole sponsor of the resolution to prejudge the position under the
Constitutional Framework; and the concluding words “in accordance
with international law”, which could have been read as an assertion that
some positive rule had to be found in order to decide that the declara-
tion was lawful under international law. In its response the Court
rightly avoided all four points, when, by ten votes to four, it was of the
opinion “that the declaration of independence of Kosovo adopted on
17 February 2008 did not violate international law.”
The Rules of Procedure of the General Assembly envisage that
requests for advisory opinions should be referred to the Sixth (Legal)

47
The question asked by the General Assembly, by 77 votes in favour, 6 against, with
74 abstentions (and no less than 35 Members not participating) was: “Is the unilateral
declaration of independence by the Provisional Institutions of Self-Government of Kosovo
in accordance with international law?”.
 advisory jurisdiction: lessons from recent practice1847

Committee “for advice on the legal aspects and on the drafting of the
request”.48 This indicates a concern for careful legal input into the for-
mulation of the questions, but in practice there has been no case where
a request has been referred by another organ to the Sixth Committee
for consideration. At the very least, the drafting of the question should
follow appropriate consultations.49
A contrast may be drawn between the Kosovo case and the rather
careful formulation of the questions asked in 2010 by the Council of
the International Seabed Authority. As originally proposed by Nauru50
the Seabed Dispute Chamber could have been asked an inappropriately
complex and specific set of questions, which would have put the
Chamber in a difficult position, not least because these were questions
that it might well have been subsequently called upon to decide in con-
tentious proceedings. With the assistance of the Secretariat, the Council
was able to frame the questions in a more appropriate manner, to the
satisfaction of all the states concerned.51
As we have seen there is no fixed procedure for the conduct of advi-
sory opinions. Concern has been expressed over the length and repeti-
tious nature, and questions asked about how they can be streamlined.52
But this does not seem very practical. A more serious problem may be
lack of participation, as in the IFAD case where, so far, only one State
has participated. In such a case, the court or tribunal may have to
decide without the benefit of hearing all sides of the argument. While
the court or tribunal may be expected to seek to compensate for this, as
the ICJ does in contentious cases where one of the parties fails to
appear, that is no substitute for hearing proper argument.
Ways should be found to draw out the arguments more effectively
rather than simply relying on the hazards of the alphabet. Attention
needs to be paid to the realities of the case, and in particular the extent
to which it resembles a contentious case or not. The idea that the par-
ticipants are there merely to assist the Court rather than to argue for
one particular “side” of the argument does not always reflect reality,
and to that extent is something of a myth, and a rather misleading one

48
 Rules of Procedure of the General Assembly, Annex II.
49
 Something evidently lacking in the case of the Kosovo request (note 2).
50
 ISBA/6/C/6.
51
 See the description of the procedure followed in the speech of Mr. Lodge (ISBA
Legal Adviser) in ITLOS/PV.2010/1/Rev.1.
52
 M. Mendelson, Seminar in honour of the memory of Sir Ian Brownlie, London,
19 November 2010.
1848 michael wood

at that. It was, therefore, right that in the Kosovo case the Court began
the oral stage by hearing first Serbia, then “the authors” of the declara-
tion of independence (i.e., Kosovo), and gave each of them substan-
tially longer than the other participants, three hours as opposed to 45
minutes.53
A further issue is the participation of entities that are not member
states of the United Nations, such as Palestine and Kosovo, or entities
and persons that neither claim nor aspire to be states. Here the ICJ and
the Seabed Disputes Chamber have been flexible. In the Kosovo case,
for example, perhaps faced with the choice between admitting the par-
ticipation of Kosovo, upon the request of the latter, or declining to hear
the case because it could not comply with the principle audi alteram
partem, the ICJ adopted a pragmatic approach and admitted Kosovo’s
participation (albeit under the description “the authors of the unilat-
eral declaration of independence” of Kosovo).
The advisory procedure may indeed be more open to non-govern-
mental organizations. The seriousness with which certain environmen-
tal organizations took part in the case before the Seabed Disputes
Chamber in the Responsibilities and Obligations case was impressive.
Turning finally to the reception of the opinion by the requesting
organ, the picture that emerges is mixed. Where the request itself has
been controversial, not unnaturally the reception has been either non-
committal or itself controversial. The reception will usually demon-
strate how useful or not the request actually was. A famous case where
it seems to have had no effect whatsoever was Conditions for Admission.54
In conclusion, one might be forgiven for a certain degree of scepti-
cism about the utility or the appropriateness of the advisory opinion
procedure. But, to repeat the point, one cannot generalize. There are
undoubtedly cases where the advisory opinions play a useful role, and
not only as a safety valve. The procedure may be particularly useful in
resolving disputes involving international organizations and other
non-State actors, including individuals, to which–absent an amend-
ment to the Statute–the Court could not otherwise contribute.

53
Another issue that may need to be addressed in particular cases is whether or not
to admit ad hoc judges. This could have arisen in the Wall (note 3) and the Kosovo
(note 2) cases, but there was no request for an ad hoc judge in either case.
54
Admission of a State to the United Nations (Article 4 of the Charter), ICJ Reports
1948, 57.
 advisory jurisdiction: lessons from recent practice1849

Seeking an advisory opinion is no light matter. It is not, simply, a

request for legal advice, such as may be made to an in-house or external
legal adviser.55 The request sets in motion a judicial process, with nor-
mally one or two rounds of written pleadings and one round of oral
pleadings by a range of states and organizations. And above all the out-
come is an opinion which, while certainly not in itself binding (though
it may become so by agreement), carries great authority.
Given its authors (judges) and the procedure (judicial), an advisory
opinion is likely to carry more weight than any ordinary legal advice,
however eminent the authors may be. As Thirlway put it succinctly, an
advisory opinion is a “judicial opinion”.56 The UN Secretary-General
has recently summarized the position as follows:
“Advisory proceedings carry great weight and moral authority, often
serving as an instrument of preventive diplomacy and contributing to the
clarification of the state of international law”.57

55
This notwithstanding the original intent, at least as recalled by H. Thirlway:
“Hudson has shown that while certain municipal courts possessed advisory jurisdic-
tion, this was not the inspiration for Art. 14 Covenant of the League of Nations which
was derived more from the concept of the PCIJ’s secondary role as legal adviser to the
League of Nations”, H. Thirlway (note 6), para. 5.
56
 Id., para. 1.
57
 Strengthening and coordinating United Nations rule of law activities: Report of
the Secretary-General (A/65/318), para. 25.
 Part VII

National Law in Context

 “Berlin bleibt Berlin”

Anthony Aust

I remember well an early encounter with the sectors of Berlin. In 1953,

in my first year at secondary school, my mathematics teacher, Mrs
Cheney, was teaching us about the circle and its sectors. She asked,
innocently: “Where else do you find sectors?” Being an avid listener to
the wireless, and especially the BBC Home Service (now Radio Four),
my hand shot up: “Berlin, Miss!” I do not know who was the more
astonished, Mrs Cheney, the class, or me.
After the Second World War, the four victorious Allies occupied
Germany,1 though Germany remained as a legal entity. Although it was
divided into four zones of occupation and the four sectors of Berlin,
the Western allies hoped that one day Germany would re-emerge as a
free and independent democracy within its traditional borders. As it
was to turn out, they had to wait much longer than they had expected,
and Germany was to lose part of its Eastern territory.
In 1949, the Soviet Zone became the (most misleadingly named)
German Democratic Republic (GDR), more popularly known as East
Germany. The GDR was not recognised by the three Western States
until 1972. Because of the establishment of this Soviet satellite, and
other Soviet non-cooperation over Germany, in 1955 the three Western
Zones had been replaced by the (truly democratic) Federal Republic of
Germany (FRG), more often referred to as West Germany. It was rec-
ognised by most States, though not by the Soviet Union or other com-
munist States until 1972.
After the War, Berlin had been divided into four sectors each being
occupied by one of the Allies: American, British, French and Soviet.
There were no barriers between the three Western sectors, and between
them and the Soviet Sector. There was no solid barrier until the Wall
went up in 1961. Until then East Berliners were able to go from the
Soviet Sector to the Western sectors (and from there to West Germany).
But, the legal status of the whole of Berlin was unchanged from 1945

1
In fact, and in law, the Allies assumed ‘supreme authority’ for Germany. They
never annexed it.
1854 anthony aust

until German unification in October 1990 when Allied responsibility

for Germany and Berlin was suspended, though not formally relin-
quished until the following year.
For the 28 years from 1961 until 1989, the Berlin Wall was seen as
the barrier between East and West. It was not just a symbol of Berlin,
but also of the Cold War. People who lived through that period remem-
ber first the Wall and then the fear of nuclear war. From 1976 to 1979,
I was posted to Berlin as Legal Adviser to the British Military
Government (BMG). This chapter will explain some of the legal and
other issues I encountered, including problems concerning Rudolf
Hess.
I drove to Berlin from London with my wife, toddler and au pair (in
those days they were all Western European girls). When we got to
Helmstedt, we encountered for the first time the strangeness of West
Berlin’s situation. It was especially striking for an official of a Western
Ally. There were then only three ways Allied officials and their families
could travel to or from West Berlin: by air through one of the three air
corridors to the West; by rail through certain rail routes to West
Germany; or by one of the road corridors to West Germany. Going to
East Berlin was different, as will be explained later.
Helmstedt in West Germany was very near the border with
East Germany where a road corridor to West Berlin began. Both ordi-
nary traffic and official Allied travellers going to the West Berlin had to
drive from the crossing point through East Germany to West
Berlin. But at each end there were quite separate checkpoints for
Western Allied officials and the others. Western Allied officials used
only Soviet checkpoints; the rest had to negotiate East German border
checks.
But, at Helmstedt I had to first endure a thorough briefing from the
Royal Military Police (RMP). They told me very firmly that, since the
autobahn was in East Germany, I must never exceed the speed limit of
90 kms (some 60 miles) an hour. Fortunately, that was not that difficult
given the numerous potholes in the Hitler-era autobahn. The road had
not been properly looked after since the end of the War. On the other
hand, the RMP advised me not to drive much below the speed limit,
since they might then think that I had had a breakdown, an accident or
taken a wrong turning, and would come to look for me. We must there-
fore never stop to help a stranded motorist even if the driver looked
genuine; it might be a trick. By then, we were nervous and so we all
went to the loo before we left on such a hazardous, 100-mile journey.
 berlin bleibt berlin1855

Only Soviet soldiers manned the Soviet checkpoint, never the East
Germans. And, since they were physically some way from the neigh-
bouring East German checkpoint, it was so quiet there you could hear
the birds singing among the watchtowers and barbed wire. At the
Soviet checkpoint, I stopped the car; turned off the ignition; made sure
all the car doors were locked; and, with the car keys and all the neces-
sary identity papers and travel permits, walked up to a solitary Soviet
soldier, who saluted me. Although civilian members of BMG did not
wear uniform now, I had been told to salute the sentry, which I did.
This was the first time I had saluted anyone, not being American, nor
in the scouts, and having just missed national service (conscription).
The Soviet sentry was very smartly dressed compared to my jeans and
casual shirt. He pretended to read my documents and then handed
them back, indicating that I should enter the nearby hut. We saluted
again and I went on alone.
There was never anyone to be seen in the hut, but there was a parti-
tion with a small window. You could not see through it, but at the bot-
tom there was a semi-circular aperture, rather like in an old-fashioned
theatre or railway booking office. You pushed your documents through
this and an unseen hand silently took them away. You then waited, just
hoping they would be returned soon. There was one hard chair, some
East German and Soviet newspapers, and a black and white television
tuned to an East German programme. After perhaps 15 minutes, you
heard the documents being slid quietly back. You took them and left
the hut, and then went through the same procedure with the sentry.
You then drove gingerly as far as the Soviet checkpoint near
Dreilinden in the American Sector in the South-West of Berlin. There
you had to go through the same rigmarole again, first at the Soviet
checkpoint and then with the RMP, where you were de-briefed. This
was usually a disappointment for them since you seldom had anything
to report.
The only time the RMP had to rescue me (or rather my wife and tod-
dler) was when she was driving to Helmstedt en route for a holiday in
Denmark. At the Soviet checkpoint just after Dreilinden, she got out of
the car to have her papers checked. She saluted the Soviet sentry
superbly, even though it was not required for female civilians. A curtsy
might have been better, but would certainly have discomforted him.
Returning to the car, she found all the doors had locked automatically
(which could happen then), and that she had left the keys inside. The
toddler had fallen asleep and could not be wakened to open a door. The
1856 anthony aust

Soviet guards then called the RMP, who sent a patrol car for me and the
spare car keys. The Soviet sentry was clearly much amused, but kept a
straight face.
The saying Berlin bleibt Berlin (Berlin never changes) was well
known long before the Second World War, and led to many songs. But
during the Cold War, it applied also to the legal status of Berlin. As a
matter of international law, until unification of the two Germanys in
1990, Berlin remained as it was when first occupied by the four Allies.2
The three Western Sectors of Berlin: American, British and French,
were, collectively, known as West Berlin. Until unification, West Berlin
was not part of West Germany, and was referred to by the West
Germany Government as Berlin (West). Nevertheless, the administra-
tion and economy of West Berlin was well integrated with that of West
Germany, which subsidised its economy heavily. Although, the Federal
German Constitution (Grundgesetz) did not apply to West Berlin, some
Federal German ministries and courts were located there, such as the
Federal Administrative Appeal Court (Bundesverwaltungsgericht). It is
now in Leipzig, in former East Germany.
The Soviet Sector of Berlin was by then known as East Berlin. The
capital of East Germany was in fact East Berlin, though the Western
Allies did not recognise this until they recognised East Germany and
we were then able to have an embassy in the capital of the GDR. But,
until Germany was unified, to the Western Allies, East Berlin was
legally still the Soviet Sector.
East German and Soviet forces surrounded West Berlin. In purely
military terms there was nothing to prevent them successfully invading
it. One hoped that the Allied forces would have given them a bloody
nose, but they were never large enough to defeat an invader. Any fight-
ing would have killed many Berliners. The emblem of the (British)
Berlin Infantry Brigade was a solid black circle enclosed by a red circle.
In the early years of the occupation, this was said jokingly to reflect two
facts of Berlin life: the city had an active black market and was
surrounded by the Red Army. Yet, after the success of the Berlin airlift
of 1948–9, the Soviet Union did not want another demonstration of
the power of the armed forces of the West. Nevertheless, the Soviet
Union saw Berlin as a useful pressure point which could be exploited

2
See I.D. Hendry / M.C. Wood, The Legal Status of Berlin, (1987). Note the exqui-
site timing, though it was surpassed by an article on the inner-German border by the
East German Helmut Muller-Enbergs, published in 1988.
 berlin bleibt berlin1857

in various ways short of provoking more fighting. The Soviet Union

also found that keeping its troops in East Germany was a good way of
seeing that that country stayed subservient. In 1953, there had been
serious riots in East Berlin which had to be put down by Soviet forces.
By continuing to station troops in East Germany, the Soviet Union
showed the East Germans who was boss.
Although BMG was a military body headed by a major general, who
held the title of Commandant of the British Sector, I was part of its
diplomatic wing–rather like a small embassy. Although we were not
subject to military law or discipline, as far as the four Allied authorities
were concerned, we were part of the Allied forces and were so treated,
although long before I arrived, the members of the diplomatic wing did
not wear military uniform. In fact, we seldom met the military. The
British Commandant was related to the theatrical Redgraves. He and
his aide de camp were regarded by the ordinary soldiers (known collo-
quially as squaddies) as rather effete cavalry types, and so called them
‘Buttercup and Daisy’.
The Headquarters of BMG was in the Stadium complex built for the
1936 Olympic Games. In London, I had naively thought that BMG
would be somewhere under the stands of the Stadium itself. In fact,
BMG was in the administrative building for the Games, a quarter mile
from the Stadium. The Stadium complex was some way west from the
centre of Berlin, and so had not suffered much from Allied bombing.
When I went back to Berlin in 2005 as a tourist, I went to see the
Stadium and the former BMG building. Following unification in 1990,
the building had again become the administrative headquarters for the
Stadium and its surrounding playing fields, swimming pools, etc. But
the building had not changed. My office had been at the front on the
third floor. From my desk, I had looked out at the behind of a Nazi
golden eagle. This was one of a pair on top of the pillars that flanked the
main entrance. Ever concerned with preserving history, the British had
carefully restored the building to how it looked in 1936, and so the two
eagles had been meticulously re-gilded. In the ground floor atrium, the
Nazi-style statues of naked athletes had also been restored to their for-
mer glory. As an antidote to these reflections of Nazi splendour, behind
my desk was a complete set of the records of the main Nuremburg trial,
with their gruesome photographs.
All the cost of the restoration of Nazi symbols and suchlike was also
regarded as occupation costs and so met by the West Berlin budget,
which was heavily subsidised by the West German Government. Unlike
1858 anthony aust

our French allies, we were more sparing in what we treated as occupa-

tion costs. For example, we did not have official cars and drivers for
each civilian officer or weekly deliveries of cut flowers to their houses.
But, during the War, France had been occupied by Germany.
Although I naturally worked in the British sector, we lived in
Zehlendorf in the American Sector. This had the advantage of being
near to both good German shops and the American PX. Both were
superior to the NAAFI in the British Sector. There was also an American
cinema with comfortable seats, and which showed some good films, if
you did not mind the all-pervasive smell of popcorn. We lived on,
appropriately, Onkel Tom Strasse near the underground station Onkel
Toms Hütte (Uncle Tom’s Cabin). In fact, the names dated from the
1920s when the U Bahn (Underground railway) had been built. Our
house was one of four detached houses designed by the German-Jewish
architect, Erich Mendelsohn, who had had to flee to England in 1933.
They were large and in the spare style of the Bauhaus: a square box with
clean lines and a flat roof. Ironically, on the other side of the road were
houses built in the 1930s specifically for Nazi officers. By contrast, they
were in traditional style with pitched roofs.
Work in Berlin seemed at first rather different from what I had done
at home. We had to work within an occupation regime which dated
back to 1945. Yet, we needed to respect the sensitivities of the West
Berlin authorities. In practice, the Allies let them get on with running
West Berlin, while the three Allied Military Governments made sure
that the Soviet Union and East Germany did not do things which con-
flicted with our view that all Berlin was (at least in law) still under
Allied occupation. This was not always easy, since the West German
Government, and the West Berlin authorities often treated West Berlin
as if it were part of West Germany, albeit 100 miles inside East Germany.
In fact, if you flew into West Berlin, and did not see the Wall, you might
well have thought that you were in just another prosperous West
German city. Yet, what law and legal techniques you had learnt in the
Foreign and Commonwealth Office stood you in good stead in Berlin.
The Legal Advisers of the three Western Allies met formally once a
month in the Allied Kommandatur, a building in the American Sector.
Before the War it had been an insurance office. Even after the Soviet
Union had withdrawn from most Allied occupation authority meet-
ings, officials of the three Western Allies still found it useful to hold
their formal meetings in the building. As I soon found out, the main
point of the legal advisers’ monthly meeting was to have a long, heavy
 berlin bleibt berlin1859

and alcoholic German lunch beforehand. Since by 3.30 pm we were

only just finishing when local ladies of a certain age were coming into
the restaurant for their Kaffee und Kuchen, there was little time left for
work. When it came my turn to chair the monthly meeting, I arranged
it for 10 am, with lunch to follow. The other two legal advisers did not
like this at all, and so we soon reverted to our historic routine. When I
went back to West Berlin some years later I noted that the agenda of the
meetings had not changed much either: Berlin bleibt Berlin, and this
applied also to Allied legal problems.
But, a new and troublesome problem was Tiefwerder. This was an
enclave in the British Sector. Unknown to anyone until we became
aware of it then, legally it was not a part of Berlin, but of nearby
Brandenburg. So, there was a small part of what was then East Germany
well inside the British Sector. We all knew that that there were exclaves
of West Berlin in East Germany. These were small bits of land, usually
farms, though one was a hamlet. Although the land was owned by West
Berliners and was part of districts of West Berlin, they were physically
outside the city limits of West Berlin. (In England, there is land which
belongs to the City of London lying outside the City, such as Burnham
Beeches in Buckinghamshire and Epping Forest in Essex.) But, under a
1971 agreement, they were either physically connected by narrow cor-
ridors to West Berlin or their Berliner owners were allowed to visit
them from time to time. But, Tiefwerder had been totally cut off physi-
cally from West Berlin by East Germany.
The landowners in Tiefwerder had always seen themselves as West
Berliners, though they had previously paid municipal tax to the author-
ities of Brandenburg. But, once West Berlin had become surrounded by
East Germany, the landowners had stopped paying municipal tax to
anyone. In fact, both the authorities in West Berlin and in East Germany
were blissfully unaware of the existence of the enclave. Over many
lunches, the three Allied legal advisers discussed what to do. To dis-
close its existence now would be embarrassing for the Western Allies
and the West Berlin authorities; they certainly did not want to give East
German officials any excuse to enter West Berlin. In the end, the legal
advisers decided that the best course would be to follow the maxim of
the 19th Century British Prime Minister, Lord Melbourne: when in
doubt, do nothing. So we told nobody: neither our superiors, nor the
West Berlin authorities, and certainly not the East Germans. Following
unification in 1990, one hopes that the landowners of Tiefwerder again
pay municipal taxes.
1860 anthony aust

When my colleagues in London heard I was about to be posted to

West Berlin, they urged me to read all the files, especially on Spandau
Prison. It was in the British sector and had been named after the local
district, not the later pop group. My colleagues said Rudolph Hess was
bound to die when I was still in Berlin, so I had better read all the files
about him and the prison. I did not have time to read much. But my
legal training had taught me that, when you actually see a crime scene,
things look very different from what you had read about it. And, so it
was for Spandau Prison, and Hess. In fact, after I had left he was to live
for another eight years.
Included among the tasks of the Western legal advisers (who never
saw their Soviet colleague) was the overall supervision of the prison.
After the War, Spandau had held only the seven who were sentenced in
1946 to imprisonment (from 10 years to life) by the Nuremberg
Tribunal rather than hanged. By the time I arrived, six of the seven had
been released because they had served their sentences or on medical
grounds. So for the previous 11 years Hess had been the sole prisoner.
Spandau was an old redbrick building built in 1876 for 600 p­ risoners.
I was taken on a tour of the almost empty prison, including the chapel
covered in cobwebs and pigeon droppings. Each month the warders
and the soldiers guarding the prison were provided in turn by one of
the four Allies. Spandau was one of only two Four Power institutions in
Berlin where the Soviet Union still played an active role. (The other was
the body that ensured the safety of flights in and out of Berlin, which
was in everyone’s interests.) Spandau gave the Soviets not only a veto
over the future of Hess, but also a small foothold in West Berlin.
Each month the Ally in charge of Spandau for that month hosted a
lunch for the other three Allies. This was held outside the prison in
what had been the governor’s residence. Wives were no longer invited
and the food and drink was not so lavish. So, I went to only a few of the
lunches. Few of the Soviet guests spoke much English–and the British
spoke no Russian. Anyway, the only safe subject was the Second World
War, though to the Soviets this usually meant the Eastern Front, which
they could talk about for hours. As to the food, it was best in French
and Soviet months. It was rather strange to have such lunches just out-
side the prison where an old man in his eighties had been for some
three decades.
In fact, Hess had been continuously in detention since he had flown
to Scotland in May 1941. When I left BMG in 1979, he was 85 years old
and had been imprisoned (in the United Kingdom, in Nuremburg and
 berlin bleibt berlin1861

in West Berlin) for 38 years in all. Because he seemed eternal, his death
hardly seemed inevitable. Instead of speaking of when he would die,
one spoke superciliously of if he would die. Yet, applicants for posts as
British warders were told that the jobs had no future. In fact, Hess out-
lived many of his warders. Although some of his fellow prisoners had
been released prematurely on health grounds, and the Western Allies
had pressed many times for Hess’s release on humanitarian grounds
(he was old but not ill), the Soviet Union flatly refused. Its leaders still
thought he should have been sentenced to death, because they believed
he was involved in Hitler’s decision to invade the Soviet Union in 1941
(Operation Barbarossa). It has been alleged that his sentence of life
imprisonment was a compromise between death (which the Soviet
judges wanted) and 10 years imprisonment which the French judges
preferred. The story might well be true.
Conditions in Spandau had been made as comfortable as possible
for an old man. His cell was spacious; two cells having been knocked
into one. For some years before I arrived he had had a hospital bed,
which was more comfortable for him. He had decorated the bare walls
of his cell with pictures of planets and space satellites. His food was
cooked by Yugoslav chefs and was excellent. If he needed medical treat-
ment which could not be done in prison, he was taken to the British
Military Hospital in West Berlin. It was feared that he might be snatched
by neo-Nazis or communists while in transit or at the hospital. So, it
was treated as a military operation and planned down to the last detail.
Once, when I was acting for the absent British chief warder, I even had
to ride in the ambulance with Hess. Such is the lot of a legal adviser in
the Diplomatic Service.
I had also to sit in on some of the monthly visits to Hess. They lasted
an hour, and his wife usually came. Most of the time, she talked about
herself and life outside. Hess had very little chance to say anything.
Some unkind people said that if he were ever to be released he would
die soon from having to listen every day to her chatter.
One of my first Spandau problems was whether Hess should have a
television, placed in the corridor of his ground floor cellblock, to watch
an important football match between England and Germany. It would
take place during British month, and the British warders were keenly in
favour. For once, the Soviet governor agreed, even though it meant
erecting an aerial on the roof. England lost. Soon afterwards, the TV
set was put in another double cell so that Hess could watch more com-
fortably. He was not allowed to read, or watch on TV, anything about
1862 anthony aust

the War or his former Nazi colleagues. So, his newspapers and viewing
were censored, at least in theory. But as he got older and frailer, the
Soviets agreed to him having the sole use of a new Portakabin put in
the prison garden. Everyone soon called it his Dacha. The Spandau
regime served him well. In practice he dictated his needs, even decid-
ing when and how he would die. On 17 August 1987, he hanged him-
self in the Dacha. He was 93, and had been a prisoner for 46 years. Not
long after his death, Spandau was demolished, and a new NAAFI
supermarket was built on the site. The British squaddies soon called it
“Hescos”.3
But, had the sole prisoner in Spandau really been Rudolph Hess? The
conspiracy theorists continue to believe he was not. But, even if you
had only seen photos of Hess at the Nuremberg Trial, nobody who saw
or spoke to the prisoner had any doubt that he was Hess; the heavy
eyebrows and sunken eyes said it all. In 1979, yet another book about
Hess was published: The Murder of Rudolph Hess by Dr. Hugh Thomas.
The author suggested that the prisoner was an impostor, and, moreo-
ver, the four Allies knew it. Dr. Thomas had once been the British mili-
tary doctor in charge of medical treatment in Spandau. One of my last
acts in BMG was to read the book and check its allegations about iden-
tity against the physical evidence which was still available. Near to the
prisoner’s cell was another one where the belongings that Hess had
with him when he flew to Scotland in 1941 were stored. In particular,
they included his flying jacket. The book said the jacket could not be
his, and described in detail why this was so. But, even a cursory inspec-
tion of the jacket did not bear out that claim. More serious was the
book’s suggestion that, although Hess had well-documented shrapnel
wounds from the First World War, when Dr. Thomas had twice exam-
ined the prisoner he could find no sign of the scars; and when the pris-
oner was asked about them he seemed to act suspiciously. So, we had
the prisoner x-rayed. This showed clear signs of the wounds just as they
had been recorded when Hess was treated for them six decades before.
The book was later published in paperback.
Hess was the first and only Nuremberg prisoner to die in Spandau.
There was an elaborate plan dating from 1947 for disposing of a pris-
oner’s corpse. It was carefully designed so that there would be nothing
to show where the ashes had been scattered. It had been agreed there

3
 Tesco has the largest chain of supermarkets in the United Kingdom.
 berlin bleibt berlin1863

would be no burial in case the grave became a shrine for neo-Nazis.

Since Spandau was in the British sector, a crematorium there was to be
requisitioned by the British Commandant for one night only. The
corpse, accompanied by the four Allied governors, would then be
driven in an unmarked van to the crematorium where British soldiers
would cremate it. The ashes would then to be put in a small wooden
box that the four governors would take back to Spandau. There the box
and its contents would, in the presence of the four governors, be burnt
in the prison furnace, though nothing was said about what would hap-
pen to the resulting ashes. Fortunately, the plan was never put into
operation. Given the circumstances of Hess’s death, and a more reason-
able Soviet attitude, his corpse was released to his widow and taken to
West Germany where it was buried.
An elaborate and tasteless memorial dedicated to the Soviet soldiers
who had died fighting for Berlin was later built in East Berlin. But, just
after the end of the War the Soviets had built a much smaller war
memorial in the British Sector near to the Brandenburg Gate. It was
guarded day and night by two Soviet soldiers. This arrangement con-
tinued even after the Wall had been built. The Western Allies did not
object even though it gave the Soviets a further foothold in West Berlin.
However, following an attack on the guards by a neo-Nazi, the area was
cordoned-off and only members of the Allied Forces and their guests
were allowed to visit it, usually only by car. The view at night of the
Brandenburg Gate and the Wall in front of it (both of which were illu-
minated by the bright lights of West Berlin) was unforgettable.
But it was not only the Soviets who had privileged access. A leftover
from the occupation of Germany by the four Allied Powers were their
military liaison missions. They were set up at the end of the War, the
British being called BRIXMIS. The cars of Soviet liaison mission
(SOVMIS) to the three Allies could, freely and at any time, visit West
Berlin or West Germany. In return, the military liaison missions of the
three Western allies were free to visit East Berlin and East Germany,
which as far as they were concerned was still the responsibility of the
Soviet Union.
One’s first visit to East Berlin was always unforgettable. Allied per-
sonnel went by car through the so-called Checkpoint Charlie, there
being other Allied checkpoints at Helmstedt A(lpha) and Dreilinden
B(ravo). The guards on the East Berlin side of Checkpoint Charlie were
East Germans. To avoid political and legal contamination, you there-
fore kept your car windows firmly shut and just showed your orange
1864 anthony aust

card through them. The card was the identity document issued to
members of the Western Allies. If there was any trouble at the check-
point, or elsewhere in East Berlin, you were told to demand to speak to
a Soviet officer. As Allied officials, you had complete immunity from
both Soviet and East German authorities.
There was not that much to see or do in East Berlin, apart of course
from the opera. There it was amusing to see in full military uniform
Western officers and Soviet and East German officers eyeing each other.
But, until the division of the city between East and West, Mitte (the
centre) had been its heart; it was now in East Berlin. Mitte contained
the Unter den Linden (previously the grandest street in Berlin),
Museum Island (with its world-famous collections), the Brandenburg
Gate, the opera houses, theatres, embassies and government offices.
But, both before and after the Wall was built, East Berlin was a sad
place. East of Mitte had traditionally been a working class area. Large
blocks of Soviet-style flats had been built there, but much of the
destruction caused by allied bombing during the War had never been
repaired, and so much of the work had to be done after unification.
The shops in East Berlin stocked very little worth buying. Although
children’s shoes were very cheap if you paid in Ostmarks, it was a crim-
inal offence in East Berlin to change Deutschmarks into Ostmarks
except in authorised places. This could not be done in West Berlin or
on the street in East Berlin, where the exchange rate was especially
good. In fact, it was a disciplinary offence for members of the forces of
the Western Allies to do so. The East Berlin restaurants were also
dreadful, though the Ganymede was just passable. But even there,
although Neapolitan ice cream came in glorious pink, green and white,
each colour tasted exactly the same, like cardboard.
To go back to the 1970’s, once a year the forces of the three Western
Allies would take part in a joint parade in West Berlin. Allied Forces
Day was a useful reminder to the Berliners, as well as the Soviets and
East Germans, that the Allies were prepared to fight to protect Berlin’s
freedom. There is nothing like the sound of tanks on cobbled streets to
make your hair stand on end.
Each of the Allies would mark its own national day also with a mili-
tary parade. This was both good for morale, as well as an excuse to eat
and drink and invite the military and civilian officers of the other
Allies. It also gave the soldiers a chance to show how good they were at
marching. By the 1970s, the French–who by then sent mainly young
conscripts to Berlin–had clearly lost the contest. The real battle was
 berlin bleibt berlin1865

between the two really professional armies in West Berlin: the

Americans and the British. The former were very smartly dressed, but
not so as good as the British at marching.
Although to the British Forces in West Berlin I was equivalent to a
full colonel, I hardly expected to be given VIP treatment by the French
forces, especially when I drove a battered old VW Beetle. I once parked
it in the official visitors’ car park for the 14 July reception. Since I had
stayed rather late, when I got back to the car park mine was the only
one left. The clearly relieved conscript saluted me extravagantly as I
drove away. Only when I got home was I told the truth by my wife:
“What do you expect if you drive a dark blue car with a large union jack
painted on both sides?”
The Head of the Royal Military Police each year organised our
national day celebration: the Queen’s Birthday Parade. Since a member
of the Royal Family always came to take the salute, the whole ceremony
had to be carefully planned, particularly if The Queen herself was to
attend. When she came in 1978 we had two dress rehearsals. Those of
us who had been persuaded to play the part of one of the main partici-
pants had to wear round our necks large placards with the name of the
person we were playing. The woman who played The Queen was
dressed overall in red, white and blue, and so took to the part so that
even the real thing was a bit of a disappointment.
The parade was held on the Maifeld, the very large parade ground
next to the Olympic Stadium that had been used for Nazi rallies. Things
always went according to plan, except on the occasion of the Queen’s
visit. Then, the Commander of the Berlin Brigade, who was always in
charge of the troops on parade, left out a key command. Some knew
what they should do and marched on, but then stopped; others waited
for the command. Things were only put right when a staff officer on a
horse went over and had a quiet word with the increasingly bewildered
and unhappy Brigadier. Perhaps it should be made clear that he was an
engineer and so was happy neither with parades, nor on horseback.
The audience of course loved the shambles; nobody had ever seen such
a thing before. The Queen was also hugely amused, though she said
nothing at the time.
My last months in Berlin coincided with the Tiede trial. Tiede and
his girlfriend (both East Germans) had hijacked an airliner from
Poland to Tempelhof airport in the American sector. Although West
Germany had ratified the Hijacking Convention 1970, and it had been
extended to West Berlin, the Berlin authorities there did not want to
1866 anthony aust

prosecute the pair since they had fled from the hated German commu-
nist regime. But, for the Western Allies every hijacking had to be pun-
ished whatever the motive. So, for the first time for many years the
American authorities had to convene a US Military Government Court,
and import and pay for US Federal Prosecutors, American defence
attorneys, and a US Federal judge who was brought over especially for
the trial.
One of the judge’s first decisions was that the US Constitution applied
to everyone in the American Sector.4 This came as a surprise to most
lawyers, but it was quoted in at least one of the Guantanamo cases
before US federal courts, though apparently without success. Since
under the US Constitution any person charged with a serious offence
was entitled to trial by a jury, one had to be summoned. Therefore,
300 West Berliners from the American Sector were told to attend the
Court, to be held at Tempelhof airport, for the purpose of selecting a
jury. Being dutiful, everyone turned up and on time, including house-
wives with small children. Some even brought their dogs. Although in
the United States jury selection can take days, the twelve jurors, and
their substitutes, were selected quickly and without trouble on the very
first day. The trial also went without a hitch. Tiede was found guilty, but
sentenced only to the time he had already served in prison awaiting
trial, and so was released immediately. His girlfriend was found not
guilty. Afterwards, the judge said that the jury had been the best he had
ever had: always on time; took careful notes; asked intelligent ques-
tions; and quickly reached their verdict. He would dearly have liked to
take them all home to America.
The end of the Cold War in 1989 was particularly symbolised by the
glumness apparent in every East German diplomat. Not only did they
know that it meant that after unification there would be no job for
them in the German diplomatic service, but, having been members of
the East German communist party, there would be no jobs for them in
any other ministry of a united Germany. The effect of unification was
brought home to me when some years later I visited Helsinki for a dip-
lomatic conference. The British Embassy was quite small for meetings
of our large team from London. Somehow the German delegation
heard of this and invited us to use the conference room of the vast and

4
See US v. Tiede, 86 F.R.D. 227; and, for example, G.P. Fletcher, Black Hole in
Guantanamo Bay, Journal of International Criminal Justice 121(2004); J. Resnik,
Invading the Courts, Legal Times, 14 Jan 2002.
 berlin bleibt berlin1867

empty former East German Embassy. We gladly accepted, and rather

enjoyed the unusual experience.
But, in a sense, East German thinking lives on even now. When my
wife and I spent a long weekend in Berlin in 2005, we went to a museum
in what had been East Berlin. It was very hot, so after a time I took off
my jacket and slung it over my shoulder. Immediately a stocky woman
guardian came up and spoke to me in German. My German was rusty
and she spoke very fast. I thought she wanted to see my ticket, but that
was not so. I was saved further embarrassment by a German woman
visitor who told me, in perfect English, that the guardian was saying
that if I had a jacket I had to wear it. She then added the splendid com-
ment: “Unfortunately, the spirit of the East German regime is not dead.”
The guardian may have been a member of the former East German
secret police, the Stasi. Having lost her safe post, the job of a museum
guard might have been all she could get. So, I meekly put my jacket
back on, though it did make my day.
 Die private Haftung aus Seedelikten zwischen
Völkerrecht und Internationalem Privatrecht

Jürgen Basedow*

A. Landbezogene und maritime Delikte

Wenn verschiedene Mitglieder der menschlichen Gesellschaft ihre

jeweiligen, nicht aufeinander abgestimmten Handlungspläne verwirk-
lichen, so kann es zu Konflikten oder Kollisionen kommen. Sofern
sie diese Konflikte vorhersehen, werden sich die beteiligten Parteien in
der Regel miteinander arrangieren; dies ist der Gegenstand des
Vertragsrechts. Aber die Konflikte können auch unvorhergesehener
und rein zufälliger Natur sein, so insbesondere wenn keine der betei-
ligten Parteien oder nur eine mit ihren Handlungen eine besondere
Absicht verfolgt hat. In einem derartigen Fall ist es Sache des
Deliktsrechts, die wirtschaftlichen Folgen einer Kollision zu bestim-
men. Die wachsende Bevölkerungsdichte, die Entwicklung immer
neuer Technologien einschließlich der hiermit einhergehenden
Risiken, und das Wirtschaftswachstum haben zur Folge, dass sich der-
artige unabsichtliche Konflikte bei landgestützten Aktivitäten gar nicht
verhindern lassen. Dies führte zu einer Blüte des Deliktsrechts, die im
Laufe des letzten Jahrhunderts eine große Zahl besonderer delikts-
rechtlicher Haftungstatbestände hervorbrachte.
Im Internationalen Privatrecht spiegelt sich diese Entwicklung in
der Herausbildung mehrerer spezieller Anknüpfungen, wie sie heute
in den Artikeln 4 bis 9 der Rom II-Verordnung der Europäischen
Union kodifiziert sind.1 Diese Regelungen basieren durchweg auf der

* Der Beitrag geht zurück auf einen Vortrag in englischer Sprache vor der European
Group for Private International Law in Bergen im September 2008; für die Mitwirkung
an der deutschen Fassung dankt der Verfasser Herrn Dr. Jan Asmus Bischoff, Assistent
am Institut.
1
 Verordnung (EG) Nr. 864/2007 des Europäischen Parlaments und des Rates vom
11. Juli 2007 über das auf außervertragliche Schuldverhältnisse anzuwendende Recht
(Rom II), ABl. 2007 L 199/40.
1870 jürgen basedow

Annahme, dass die Welt in souveräne Parzellen – Staaten genannt –

aufgeteilt ist. Durch die Zuordnung eines Konflikts zu einer bestimm-
ten Parzelle soll eine eindeutige Verbindung zwischen den Tatsachen,
die dem Konflikt zugrunde liegen, und dem in der Parzelle geltenden
Recht hergestellt werden. Hier wird eine Verbindung zwischen dem
Internationalen Privatrecht und Völkerrecht sichtbar, die auf den fol-
genden Seiten für die Delikte zur See erörtert werden soll. Damit wird
ein Themengebiet beschritten, dem sich Rüdiger Wolfrum im Laufe der
Jahrzehnte immer wieder in völkerrechtlicher Perspektive zugewandt
hat, so dass ihn die folgenden, aus der Sicht des Kollisionsrechts ver-
fassten Überlegungen hoffentlich interessieren. Sie sind ihm in langer
Verbundenheit gewidmet.

I. Die Rolle der Schiffsgemeinschaft

Im Hinblick auf einige der zuvor genannten Annahmen weisen seebe-
zogene Tätigkeiten Besonderheiten auf. Erstens spielt der Vertrag bei
maritimen Aktivitäten eine wesentlich größere Rolle. Unternehmungen
zur See basieren in der Regel auf Verträgen. Unbeabsichtigte Konflikte
wie etwa Straßenunfälle, die Parteien zusammenbringen, welche sich
nie zuvor in ihrem Leben getroffen haben, sind in der Seefahrt eher
selten, auch wenn sie etwa in Form von Kollisionen von Schiffen mit
anderen Schiffen, Hafenanlagen, Unterwasserkabeln und Bohrinseln
oder etwa in Form der Ölverschmutzung durch Schiffe mit Folgen für
die angrenzenden Küstenstreifen anzutreffen sind.
Häufiger findet man maritime Delikte dort, wo bereits zuvor ver-
tragliche Beziehungen bestanden haben: Der Angriff eines Seemannes
auf andere Mitglieder der Besatzung; der schuldhafte Verlust von
Ladung durch den Verfrachter während der Reise; Verletzungen, die
ein Passagier wegen Fahrlässigkeit des Stewards erleidet. In diesen und
vielen anderen Fällen ist eine Interessengemeinschaft durch einen
Vertrag, der vor der Begehung des Delikts geschlossen wurde, geschaf-
fen worden, sei es durch einen Vertrag zwischen dem Täter und dem
durch die unerlaubte Handlung Geschädigten, sei es durch Verträge
zwischen diesen Personen mit Dritten wie zum Beispiel dem
Schiffseigentümer und dem Charterer. In solchen Fällen reichen die
Auswirkungen des Delikts nicht über diese Gemeinschaft, die traditio-
nell als Schiffsgemeinschaft bezeichnet wird, hinaus. Im seerechtlichen
Zusammenhang ist es daher angebracht, zwischen zwei allgemeinen
Typen von Delikten zu unterscheiden, die man abhängig davon, ob
 die private haftung aus seedelikten1871

ihre Auswirkungen über diese vorgegebene Schiffsgemeinschaft hin-

ausgehen, als interne oder externe Delikte bezeichnen kann.2
Als eine Folge davon und im Gegensatz zu den Feststellungen in
Erwägungsgrund 18 der Rom II-Verordnung stellt Art. 4 Abs. 3 S. 2 im
seerechtlichen Zusammenhang weitaus mehr als eine bloße Ausnahme
zu der allgemeinen kollisionsrechtlichen Regelung des Art. 4 Abs. 1
dar. Die in Art. 4 Abs. 3 angeordnete vorrangige Anwendung des
Rechts, das für ein bereits bestehendes Rechtsverhältnis zwischen den
Parteien maßgeblich ist, ist für die hier als intern bezeichneten Delikte
der Schiffsgemeinschaft eher die Regel denn die Ausnahme. Da dieses
bereits bestehende Rechtsverhältnis oft vertraglicher Natur ist, erlangt
die Rom I-Verordnung über das auf vertragliche Schuldverhältnisse
anzuwendende Recht damit auch für die außervertragliche Haftung
ihre Bedeutung.3 Selbst wenn der Vertrag das auf Delikte anwendbare
Recht nicht bestimmt, weist ein internes Delikt, das sich an Bord eines
Schiffes ereignet, eine engere Verbindung zur Schiffsgemeinschaft als
zum Standort des Schiffes auf, sei es auf der Hohen See oder im
Küstenmeer irgendeines Staates. Die Schiffsgemeinschaft sollte in der-
artigen Fällen als ein bereits bestehendes Rechtsverhältnis im Sinne des
Art. 4 Abs. 3 verstanden werden.

II. Zonen verminderter Souveränität und die Lokalisierung des

Deliktsorts
Die zweite Annahme, die für das Seerecht keine oder nur bedingte
Geltung beanspruchen kann, ist die vollständige Aufteilung der Welt in
Souveränitätssphären. Während die Gesetze eines Staates sich auf sein
Küstenmeer erstrecken,4 gewähren die für den Festlandsockel5 und die
ausschließliche Wirtschaftszone geltenden Regimes dem Küstenstaat

2
Dem Inhalt nach trifft M. P. George, Choice of Law in Maritime Torts, 3 Journal of
Private International Law 137 (2007), dieselbe Unterscheidung, indem er zwischen
„liability within the same vessel“ (138 f., 160 f.) und „liability as between two vessels“
(154 f., 161 f.) trennt.
3
 Verordnung (EG) Nr. 593/2008 des Europäischen Parlaments und des Rates
vom 17. Juni 2008 über das auf vertragliche Schuldverhältnisse anzuwendende Recht
(Rom I), ABl. 2008 L 177/6.
4
 Art. 2 ff. der United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, 10. Dezember
1982, 1833 UNTS 3 (im Folgenden SRÜ); vgl. ebenso die Convention on the Territorial
Sea and the Contiguous Zone, 29. April 1958, 516 UNTS 205.
5
 Artt. 76 f. SRÜ; vgl. auch die Convention on the Continental Shelf, 29. April 1958,
499 UNTS 311.
1872 jürgen basedow

nur beschränkte souveräne Rechte. Diese lassen die Frage des

anwendbaren Privatrechts für die entsprechenden Bereiche der See
weitgehend offen. Schließlich darf in Bezug auf die Hohe See kein
Staat den Anspruch erheben, diesen Bereich seiner Souveränität zu
unterstellen.6
Welche Bedeutung kommt der Lokalisierung, welche die Kollisions­
normen der Rom II-Verordnung vorsehen, in diesem Zusammenhang
zu? Die Bewertung eines bestimmten Verhaltens als rechtmäßig oder
unrechtmäßig hängt hiernach von den Gesetzen und Verordnungen
ab, die dort gelten, wo sich das fragliche Geschehen zuträgt und wo
sich dessen negative Folgen zeigen. Offensichtlich ist aber ein ergän-
zender Anknüpfungspunkt zur Füllung solcher Lücken notwendig, die
sich durch die Existenz von Zonen verminderter oder gänzlich fehlen-
der Souveränität ergeben, in denen keine solche Gesetze und
Verordnungen in Kraft sind. Die Rechtsprechung des Europäischen
Gerichtshofs zur Auslegung des Brüsseler Übereinkommens7 mag als
Leitfaden dafür dienen, wie die Rom II-Verordnung in diesem Bereich
verstanden werden muss.

III. Die Rolle des Einheitsrechts

Eine dritte Annahme, welche der Rom II-Verordnung – wie auch dem
gesamten Internationalen Privatrecht – zugrunde liegt, betrifft die
Vorteile einer „Nationalisierung“ transnationaler Delikte. Diese „Nati-
onalisierung“ ist im Zusammenhang mit vielen landgestützten Akti­
vitäten hilfreich, da dadurch ein grenzüberschreitendes Delikt einer
einzigen Rechtsordnung zugewiesen wird. Sie ermöglicht den Rekurs
auf einen einzigen rechtlichen Rahmen, nämlich ein nationales Recht,
das sich durch die ständige Anwendung auf eine weitaus größere Zahl
von Fällen rein nationaler Delikte entwickeln konnte und dadurch
einen gewissen Grad von Stabilität und Klarheit erlangt hat, der dann
auch der Beurteilung der – selteneren – transnationalen Delikte zugute
kommt. Durch die „Nationalisierung“ wird also mittelbar zugleich
auch die Rechtssicherheit für grenzüberschreitende Delikte erhöht.

6
 Art. 89 SRÜ; vgl. ebenso Art. 2 der Convention on the High Seas, 29. April 1958,
450 UNTS 11.
7
 Europäisches Übereinkommen über die gerichtliche Zuständigkeit und die
Anerkennung und Vollstreckung von Entscheidungen in Zivil- und Handelssachen,
27. September 1968, BGBl. 1972 II 774.
 die private haftung aus seedelikten1873

Bei maritimen Delikten ist der Nutzen einer Nationalisierung durch

das Kollisionsrecht jedoch begrenzt. Maritime Aktivitäten sind über-
wiegend international geprägt und nicht auf die Küsten eines einzelnen
Landes beschränkt. In den meisten Ländern konnten sich keine umfas-
sende Rechtsprechung und Rechtsliteratur anhand rein nationaler
Seerechtsfälle entwickeln. Die „Nationalisierung“ des grenzüberschrei-
tenden Falls ist daher wenig hilfreich.
Dies spiegelt sich in der über Jahrhunderte vorherrschenden Idee,
dass ein allgemeines Seerecht bestehe, das nicht an die gesetzgeberi-
sche Autorität eines einzelnen Staates gebunden sei.8 Die nationalen
Souveräne begannen zwar im späten 17. Jahrhundert, das Seerecht
auf nationaler Ebene zu kodifizieren,9 eine Bewegung, die ihren
Höhepunkt im 19. Jahrhundert erreichte.10 Diese Nationalisierung des
Seerechts stand im klaren Widerspruch zu den Bedürfnissen der mari-
timen Gemeinschaft nach einem allgemeinen, grenzüberschreitenden
Seerecht. Es ist daher nicht überraschend, dass die Bestrebungen
der internationalen Gemeinschaft für eine Rechtsvereinheitlichung
durch Konventionen insbesondere im Bereich des Seehandelsrechts
erfolgreich waren. Die Konventionen regeln vertragliche und außer-
vertragliche Rechtsverhältnisse üblicherweise durch einheitliches
Sachrecht und nicht durch Kollisionsrecht. Wer sich den rechtlichen
Rahmen maritimer Delikte vergegenwärtigt, muss diese Konventionen
berücksichtigen.
Dieser Beitrag wird zunächst einige einheitsrechtliche Überein­
kommen im Bereich des maritimen Deliktsrechts näher untersuchen
(B.). Im Anschluss (C.) wird dann die Bedeutung der Rechtsprechung
des Europäischen Gerichtshofes zum Europäischen Gerichtsstands-
und Vollstreckungsübereinkommen bzw. zur Brüssel I-Verordnung11
zur Bestimmung des locus delicti in maritimen Fällen betrachtet. Einige
Schlussfolgerungen schließen den Beitrag ab (C.).

8
 Vgl. G. W. Paulsen, Historical Overview of the Development of Uniformity in
International Maritime Law, 57 Tulane Law Review 1065, 1068 ff. (1983); George (Fn.
2), 154 f.; R. Wagner, Handbuch des Seerechts, Band II, 67 ff. (2. Aufl. 1906).
9
 Ordonnance de la marine d’août 1681, in: J. M. Pardessus (Hrsg.), Collection De
Lois Maritimes Antérieures au XVIII. Siècle, Band IV, 325 ff. (1837).
10
 Vgl. Wagner (Fn. 8), 78 ff.; R. Rodière, Traité général de droit maritime,
Introduction, L’armement, 55 ff. (1976); P. Manca, Commento alle convenzioni inter-
nazionali marittime, Bände I-III (1974); Paulsen (Fn. 8), 1073.
11
 Verordnung des Rates (EG) Nr. 44/2001 vom 22. Dezember 2000 über die gericht-
liche Zuständigkeit und die Anerkennung und Vollstreckung von Entscheidungen in
Zivil- und Handelssachen, ABl. 2001 L 12/1.
1874 jürgen basedow

B. Einheitsrechtliche Konventionen zum maritimen

Deliktsrecht

I. Überblick
Es gibt keine internationale Konvention, welche die außervertragliche
Haftung in maritimen Fällen umfassend regelt. Allerdings besteht eine
Vielzahl von Übereinkommen, die einzelne Aspekte dieser Haftung
abdecken. Insbesondere das Übereinkommen von 1910 über Schiffs­
zusammenstöße, das Internationale Übereinkommen von 1969 über
die zivilrechtliche Haftung für Ölverschmutzungsschäden (CLC),12
ersetzt durch das Protokoll von 1992,13 das Nuklearhaftungsüber­
einkommen von 197114 und das Bunkerölübereinkommen von 200115
sind für eine ganze Reihe von Staaten in Kraft getreten. Die Haftung
für die Verschmutzung durch gewisse Chemikalien wurde durch das
HNS-Übereinkommen16 von 1996 in Angriff genommen, das aller-
dings bislang nicht in Kraft getreten ist.
Die Bergungsübereinkommen von 191017 und 198918 erfassen eine
Tätigkeit, die heutzutage überwiegend vertraglich geregelt wird. Im
Bereich des Vertragsrechts müssen verschiedene transportrechtliche

12
 International Convention on Civil liability for Oil Pollution Damage (CLC 1969),
29. November 1969, 973 UNTS 3; Protocol to the International Convention on Civil
Liability for Oil Pollution Damage (CLC PROT 1976), 19. November 1976, 1225 UNTS
356; Protocol of 1984 to the International Convention on Civil Liability for Oil
Pollution Damage (CLC PROT 1984), 25. Mai 1984, 23 ILM 177 (1984).
13
 Protocol of 1992 to Amend the International Convention on Civil Liability for Oil
Pollution Damage (CLC PROT 1992), 27. November 1992, in: University of
Southampton Institute of Maritime Law (Hrsg.), The ratification of maritime conven-
tions, Nr. II.7.51 (1990) (im Folgenden zitiert als: RMC). Während die meisten
Vertragsstaaten des CLC PROT 1992 in Einklang mit Art. 31 des Protokolls von 1992
zum Fondsübereinkommen von 1971 (abgedruckt in: RMC Nr. II.7.111) die CLC 1969
gekündigt haben, haben die Regelungen der CLC 1969 für sie gemäß Art. 16 Abs. 4 in
der Fassung des CLC PROT 1992 weiterhin Bestand.
14
 Convention relating to Civil Liability in the Field of Maritime Carriage of Nuclear
Material (NUCLEAR 1971), 17. Dezember 1971, 974 UNTS 255.
15
 International Convention on Civil Liability for Bunker Oil Pollution Damage
(BUNKER 2001), 23. März 2001, in: RMC (Fn. 13), Nr. II.7.130.
16
 International Convention on Liability and Compensation for Damage in connec-
tion with the Carriage of Hazardous and Noxious Substances by Sea, 3. Mai 1996, 35
ILM 1406 (1996).
17
 International Convention for the Unification of Certain Rules of Law Relating to
Assistance and Salvage at Sea, 23. September 1910, in: RMC (Fn. 13), Nr. II.3.210.
18
 International Convention on Salvage (SALVAGE 1989), 28. April 1989, 1953
UNTS 193.
 die private haftung aus seedelikten1875

Übereinkommen Erwähnung finden: die Haager-Regeln,19 die Haag-

Visby-Regeln20 und die Hamburg-Regeln.21 Die Rotterdam-Regeln sol-
len eines Tages diese drei Übereinkommen ersetzen.22 Für die
Beförderung von Passagieren müssen das Athener Übereinkommen
von 197423 sowie seine Protokolle, das letzte von 2002,24 hinzugefügt
werden. Die meisten transportrechtlichen Übereinkommen stellen
klar, dass auch Ansprüche deliktsrechtlicher Natur die in den Überein-
kommen festgelegten Haftungsbegrenzungen respektieren müssen.25
Schließlich muss das Übereinkommen über die Haftungsbegrenzung
von 1976 Erwähnung finden, das es den Eigentümern von Schiffen, die
sich einer auf verschiedene Ansprüche gestützten Haftung gegenüber-
sehen, erlaubt, ihre Haftung entsprechend der Größe des Schiffes zu
begrenzen.26 Die folgenden Ausführungen werden auf deliktsrechtli-
che Übereinkommen bzw. deren Anwendungsbereich beschränkt
werden.

19
 International Convention for the Unification of Certain Rules of Law Relating to
Bills of Lading, 25. August 1924, 120 UNTS 155 (im Folgenden: Haager Regeln).
20
 Protocol to amend the International Convention for the Unification of Certain
Rules of Law Relating to Bills of Lading signed at Brussels on 25. August 1924, 23.
Februar 1968, 1412 UNTS 128 (im Folgenden: Haag-Visby-Regeln).
21
 United Nations Convention on the Carriage of Goods by Sea, 31. März 1978, 1695
UNTS 3 (im Folgenden: Hamburg-Regeln).
22
 United Nations Convention on Contracts for the International Carriage of Goods
Wholly or Partly by Sea (The Rotterdam Rules), 23. September 2009, UN Doc.
A/RES/63/122, in: TransportR 2009, 372 ff.
23
 Athens Convention Relating to the Carriage of Passengers and their Luggage by
Sea (PAL 1974), 13. Dezember 1974, 1463 UNTS 20; ergänzt durch: Protocol of 1976
to amend the 1974 Athens Convention Relating to the Carriage of Passengers and their
Luggage by Sea (PAL Prot 1976), 19. November 1976, 16 ILM 625 (1977); Protocol of
1990 to amend the 1974 Athens Convention Relating to the Carriage of Passengers and
their Luggage by Sea (PAL Prot 1990), 29. März 1990, in: RMC (Fn. 13), Nr. II.5.201.
Zur Bedeutung des Athener Übereinkommens für die EU siehe auch unten Fn. 24.
24
 Protocol of 2002 to the Athens Convention relating to the Carriage of Passengers
and their Luggage by Sea, 1974, 1. November 2002, in: RMC (oben Fn. 13), Nr. II.5.202.
Die meisten materiellrechtlichen Bestimmungen des Athener Übereinkommens in der
Fassung des Protokolls von 2002 wurden für Passagiertransporte in der EU durch die
Verordnung (EG) Nr. 392/2009 des Europäischen Parlaments und des Rates vom 23.
April 2009 über die Unfallhaftung von Beförderern von Reisenden auf See, ABl. 2009
L 131/24, für anwendbar erklärt.
25
 Art. 3 der Haag-Visby-Regeln (Fn. 20); Art. 7 Abs. 1 der Hamburg-Regeln (Fn.
21); Art. 14 PAL 1974 (Fn. 23).
26
 Convention on Limitation of Liability for Maritime Claims (LLMC 1976), 19.
November 1976, 1456 UNTS 221; das Übereinkommen wurde durch ein Protokoll von
1996 ergänzt: Protocol of 1996 to amend the Convention on Limitation of Liability for
Maritime Claims, 1976 (LLMC PROT 1996), 2. Mai 1996, 35 ILM 1433 (1996).
1876 jürgen basedow

II. Das Übereinkommen von 1910 über Schiffszusammenstöße

Das Übereinkommen von 1910 über Schiffszusammenstöße findet auf
Zusammenstöße zwischen Seeschiffen sowie zwischen Seeschiffen und
Binnenschiffen Anwendung, sofern alle betroffenen Schiffe die
Staatszugehörigkeit zu Vertragsstaaten besitzen (vgl. Art. 1, 12). Das
Übereinkommen wurde von mehr als 80 Staaten weltweit ratifiziert,
unter ihnen 22 Mitgliedstaaten der Europäischen Union. Daher wer-
den auch die meisten Zusammenstöße zwischen Schiffen, welche die
Flagge eines der Mitgliedstaaten der Europäischen Union führen, von
diesem Übereinkommen geregelt.
Der Rückgriff auf das nationale Recht wird freilich notwendig, wenn
zum Beispiel ein schwedisches Schiff beteiligt ist, da Schweden das
Übereinkommen 1995 gekündigt hat.27 Zwar haben einige Vertrags­
staaten die Regelungen des Übereinkommens im Einklang mit dessen
Art. 12 auf Zusammenstöße mit Schiffen aus Nichtvertragsstaaten
ausgedehnt.28 Allerdings ist das eine Regelung des nationalen Rechts,
das nur anwendbar ist, wenn die Kollisionsnormen des Forumstaates
auf dieses Recht verweisen. Die Situation ist vergleichbar, wenn fest
installierte Anlagen wie Landungsbrücken, off shore-Windräder,
Unterwas­ serkabel oder Bohrinseln betroffen sind. Im Falle eines
Zusammenstoßes mit einer solchen Anlage obliegt die Regelung der
außervertraglichen Haftung allein dem aufgrund des Internationalen
Privatrechts anwendbaren nationalen Recht.
Während viele Staaten das Übereinkommen über Schiffszusam­
menstöße für unmittelbar anwendbar erklärt haben, haben andere
wie etwa Deutschland dieses Übereinkommen in nationale
Gesetze umgesetzt. Derartige Umsetzungsgesetze weisen unausweich-
lich Abweichungen zum Text des Übereinkommens auf. Dies wirft die
Frage auf, ob die Anwendung des Umsetzungsgesetzes eines Vertrags­
staates daher von einer vorherigen kollisionsrechtlichen Prüfung
abhängig ist. Würde also ein Gericht in einem Mitgliedstaat, der auch
Vertragspartei des Übereinkommens über Schiffszusammenstöße ist,
die deutschen Gesetzesregelungen über Schiffszusammenstöße nur
anwenden, wenn die Rom II-Verordnung deutsches Recht auf einen
derartigen Fall für anwendbar erklärt?

27
 Comité Maritime International (Hrsg.), Yearbook 2007/2008, 376 (2008), verfüg-
bar unter http://www.comitemaritime.org/year/2007_8/pdffiles/YBK_07_08/cop.pdf.
28
 Für Deutschland siehe § 734 HGB.
 die private haftung aus seedelikten1877

Bezüglich der Haager-Regeln29 war dies über viele Jahre die Praxis.
Die in den Konossementen vorgesehenen sogenannten paramount
clauses verwiesen auf die Haager-Regeln in der Fassung eines bestimm-
ten nationalen Umsetzungsgesetzes.30 Aber die Haager-Regeln stellen
insofern einen Sonderfall dar: Das Protokoll über die Unterzeichnung
erlaubt ausdrücklich eine Umsetzung in nationale Gesetze und die
hiermit verbundenen Anpassungen. Als substantielle Abweichungen
im Laufe der Jahre auftraten, stellte sich unausweichlich die kollisions-
rechtliche Frage nach dem anwendbaren Recht. Gewöhnlich wird sich
ein nationales Umsetzungsgesetz allerdings so eng wie möglich an den
Text eines Übereinkommens anlehnen; Abweichungen sind oft nur
von geringer Bedeutung und nicht beabsichtigt. Daher sollten die
Gerichte der Vertragsstaaten des Übereinkommens über Schiffszu­
sammenstöße letzteres (oder die Umsetzungsgesetze) ohne eine
vorherige kollisionsrechtliche Analyse anwenden – vorausgesetzt, dass
das Übereinkommen nach seinen eigenen Anwendungsvorschriften
anwendbar ist.31
Dafür sprechen auch die folgenden Erwägungen. Nach der dualisti-
schen Lehre von den völkerrechtlichen Verträgen stellt die Umsetzung
eines Übereinkommens in nationale Gesetze des Forumstaates für den
Bereich des internen Rechts eine Interpretation des Übereinkommens
durch den nationalen Gesetzgeber dar, welche die nationalen Gerichte
bindet. Sofern allerdings die Umsetzungsgesetze Unklarheiten aufwei-
sen, muss das Übereinkommen selbst, das wiederum im Einklang mit
den Art. 31–33 des Wiener Übereinkommens über das Recht der
Verträge32 und im Lichte der Anwendung durch Gerichte anderer
Staaten ausgelegt werden muss,33 herangezogen werden.

29
 S.o. Fn. 19.
30
 Vgl. P. Mankowski, Seerechtliche Vertragsverhältnisse im Internationalen
Privatrecht, 199 ff. (1995).
31
BGH 7.11.1960, Versicherungsrecht 77, 78 (1961); 11.3.1976, VersR 681 (1976).
32
 Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, 23 Mai 1969, 1155 UNTS 331; vgl.
J. Basedow, 11 Uniform Private Law Conventions and the Law of Treaties, Uniform
Law Review N.S. 731, 741 f. (2006).
33
 Zur sogenannten rechtsvergleichenden Auslegung von einheitsrechtlichen In-
strumenten siehe J. Kropholler, Internationales Einheitsrecht, 278 f. (1975);
U. P. Gruber, Methoden des internationalen Einheitsrechts, 188 f. (2004); die
Gebotenheit einer solchen rechtsvergleichenden Auslegung ergibt sich aus der
Notwendigkeit einer einheitlichen Auslegung und Anwendung dieser Übereinkommen,
vgl. etwa die Ausführungen von Lord Wilberforce in Buchanan v. Babco, [1977] 3 All
E.R. 1048, 1053 (H.L.): „We should of course try to harmonise interpretation …“. Auf
Seite 1060 des Urteils stellt Lord Salmon fest: „If a corpus of law had grown up
1878 jürgen basedow

III. Nuklearhaftungsübereinkommen
Das Übereinkommen über die zivilrechtliche Haftung bei der
Beförderung von Kernmaterial auf See von 1971 begründet nicht etwa
eine Haftung, sondern befreit den Verfrachter vielmehr von der
Haftung für den Seetransport von Kernmaterial. Es ergänzt das Pariser
Übereinkommen über die Haftung gegenüber Dritten auf dem Gebiet
der Kernenergie von 196034 sowie das Wiener Übereinkommen über
die zivilrechtliche Haftung für nukleare Schäden von 1963.35 Alle drei
Instrumente verfolgen das Ziel, die Haftung für Schäden auf den
Betreiber einer Kernanlage zu kanalisieren. Diese Haftung ist eine
Voraussetzung für eine Haftungsbeschränkung des Verfrachters nach
dem Übereinkommen von 1971.
In den Gerichten der Vertragsstaaten, darunter 11 Mitgliedstaaten
der Europäischen Union, ist das Übereinkommen von 1971 anwend-
bar, wenn der Verfrachter auf Grundlage anderer Regelungen haftbar
gemacht werden könnte. Aber das Übereinkommen erfordert keinen
geographischen oder sonstigen Bezug zu einem Vertragsstaat. Daher
ist das Kollisionsrecht in den Vertragsstaaten dieses Übereinkommens
insofern ohne Bedeutung. Schwierigkeiten mögen daraus für die
Gerichte anderer EU-Mitgliedstaaten resultieren, wenn die Rom
II-Verordnung auf das Recht eines Vertragsstaates des Übereinkom­
mens von 1971 verweist. Ist dieses Übereinkommen Teil der lex causae,
die durch die Rom II-Verordnung bezeichnet wird? Die Natur des
Übereinkommens von 1971 als Einheitsrecht würde dafür sprechen.
Aber diese Frage ist hypothetisch, da Art. 1 Abs. 2 lit. f der Rom
II-Verordnung die Nuklearhaftung ohnehin von dem Anwen­
dungsbereich der Verordnung ausnimmt. Sofern sich die Gerichte von
Mitgliedstaaten, die nicht Vertragspartei des Übereinkommens von
1971 sind, mit einer solchen Haftung zu befassen haben, werden sie
daher weder dieses Übereinkommen noch die Rom II-Verordnung,
sondern vielmehr das maßgebliche nationale Kollisionsrecht
anwenden.

overseas which laid down the meaning of Art. 23, our courts would no doubt follow it for
the sake of uniformity which it is the object of the convention to establish.“
34
 Convention on Third Party Liability in the Field of Nuclear Energy, 29. Juli 1960,
956 UNTS 251.
35
 Vienna Convention on Civil Liability for Nuclear Damage, 21. Mai 1963, 1063
UNTS 265.
 die private haftung aus seedelikten1879

IV. Ölverschmutzung durch Tankschiffe: Das CLC-Übereinkommen

Im Laufe der letzten 50 Jahre ist die Ölverschmutzung zu dem am meis-
ten beachteten maritimen Delikt geworden. Für die Ölverschmutzung
durch Öl, das von Tankern als Ladung transportiert wird, hat sich ein
vielschichtiges System der Entschädigung entwickelt. Grundlage ist
das Internationale Übereinkommen von 1969 über die zivilrechtliche
Haftung für Ölverschmutzungsschäden (CLC), das 1992 durch ein
Protokoll ersetzt wurde.36 Das Protokoll ist in 23 Mitgliedstaaten der
EU in Kraft. Im Rahmen einer summenmäßigen Begrenzung etablie-
ren diese Texte eine verschuldensunabhängige Haftung des Eigentümers
eines Schiffes, aus dem Öl ausgeflossen ist oder von dem Öl abgelassen
wurde. Das Übereinkommen findet auf Verschmutzungsschäden
Anwendung, die in dem Hoheitsgebiet einschließlich des Küstenmeers
sowie der ausschließlichen Wirtschaftszone eines Vertragsstaates
verursacht wurden. Im Hinblick auf das Bekenntnis aller Küstenstaaten
der Europäischen Union zu dem Übereinkommen ist es eher unwahr-
scheinlich, dass ein Rechtsstreit über Ölverschmutzung in einem
Mitgliedstaat geführt wird, der nicht Partei des Übereinkommens
ist. In den Mitgliedstaaten, die zugleich Vertragsstaaten des Überein­
kommens sind, findet letzteres unabhängig von kollisionsrechtlichen
Erwägungen Anwendung. Daher ist die Rom II-Verordnung in diesem
Zusammenhang ohne Bedeutung.

V. Das Bunkerölübereinkommen von 2001

Eine andere Verschmutzungsquelle ist Bunkeröl. Im Jahr 2001 wurde
das Übereinkommen über die zivilrechtliche Haftung für Schäden, die
durch Bunkeröl verursacht wurden, unter der Federführung der
International Maritime Organization (IMO) angenommen. Gemäß
dem Beschluss 2002/762/EG sollen die Mitgliedstaaten der EG alle
notwendigen Schritte unternehmen, um dem Übereinkommen beizu-
treten oder es zu ratifizieren.37 Nachdem die notwendige Zahl von

36
 S.o. Fn. 12–13; vgl. auch R. Altfuldisch, Haftung und Entschädigung nach
Tankerunfällen auf See (2007).
37
 Entscheidung des Rates 2002/762/EG vom 19. September 2002 zur Ermächtigung
der Mitgliedstaaten, im Interesse der Gemeinschaft das Internationale Übereinkommen
über die zivilrechtliche Haftung für Schäden durch Bunkerölverschmutzung von
2001 („Bunkeröl-Übereinkommen“) zu unterzeichnen, zu ratifizieren oder diesem
1880 jürgen basedow

Ratifikationsurkunden hinterlegt wurde, ist das Übereinkommen für

21 Staaten, darunter 13 Mitgliedstaaten der EU, am 21. November 2008
in Kraft getreten. Das Übereinkommen stellt eine verschuldensunab-
hängige Haftung des Eigentümers, des bareboat charterers, des Reeders
und Ausrüsters eines Schiffes auf, aber überlässt die Haftungsbegren­
zung anderen Regimen, insbesondere dem Londoner Übereinkommen
über die Beschränkung der Haftung für Seeforderungen von 1976.38
Die Haftungsregelungen des Bunkerölübereinkommens finden auf
Verschmutzungsschäden Anwendung, die in dem Hoheitsgebiet ein-
schließlich des Küstenmeers sowie der ausschließlichen Wirtschafts­
zone eines Vertragsstaates verursacht wurden. In Anbetracht der
Verpflichtung zum Beitritt, die alle EU-Mitgliedstaaten im Hinblick
auf die Entscheidung 2002/762/EG betrifft, wird das Bunkerölüber­
einkommen früher oder später einheitlich für alle Mitgliedstaaten gel-
tendes Recht sein.

VI. Die verbleibende Bedeutung für das internationale Privatrecht

Welche Bedeutung kommt dem internationalen Privatrecht im
Allgemeinen und der Rom II-Verordnung im Besonderen in den
Bereichen zu, die durch diese Übereinkommen abgedeckt werden?
Vier Funktionen sind vorstellbar:

1. Anwendung des Kollisionsrechts als allgemeine Voraussetzung

Man könnte argumentierten, dass die Anwendung des Sachrechts, sei
es nationalen oder internationalen Ursprungs, von einem vorherigen
kollisionsrechtlichen Anwendungsbefehl abhängig ist, der bei den ein-
heitsrechtlichen Übereinkommen von ihren jeweiligen Anwendungs­
normen erteilt wird. So betrachtet wäre das Verhältnis zwischen der
Rom II-Verordnung und den einheitsrechtlichen Konventionen eine
Frage des Art. 28 der Rom II-Verordnung. Während sich diese
Bestimmung auf internationale Übereinkommen bezieht, die
„Kollisionsnormen für außervertragliche Schuldverhältnisse enthal-
ten“, wird die Auffassung vertreten, dass sie auch für das Verhältnis der
Rom II-Verordnung zu einheitsrechtlichen Übereinkommen gilt, da
diese ihren eigenen Anwendungsbereich durch Abgrenzungsregeln

beizutreten, ABl. 2002 L 256/7; zum Bunkeröl-Übereinkommen im Allgemeinen siehe

L. Zhu, Compulsory Insurance and Compensation for Bunker Oil Pollution Damage
(2007).
38
 S.o. Fn. 26.
 die private haftung aus seedelikten1881

bestimmen, die Kollisionsnormen ähneln.39 Damit würde indessen

einer problematischen Versteinerung des durch die einheitsrechtlichen
Konventionen aufgestellten rechtlichen Rahmens für maritime
Tätigkeiten Vorschub geleistet. Denn Art. 28 Abs. 1 der Rom II-
Verordnung räumt internationalen Übereinkommen nur dann Vorrang
ein, wenn ein Mitgliedstaat im Zeitpunkt der Annahme der Verordnung
und damit vor dem 11. Juli 2007 Vertragspartei war. Der spätere Beitritt
eines Mitgliedstaates zu einem solchen Übereinkommen oder aber
auch der künftige Abschluss weiterer einheitsrechtlicher Überein­
kommen hätte auf die Anwendbarkeit der Rom II-Verordnung in den
Mitgliedstaaten daher keinen Einfluss.
Die genannte Auffassung beruht freilich auf unzutreffenden
Prämissen. Nach ihrem Art. 1 Abs. 1 soll die Rom II-Verordnung „in
situations involving a conflict of laws“, „dans les situations qui compor-
tent un conflit de lois“, „in de gevallen waarin tussen de rechtsstelsels van
verschillende landen moet worden gekozen“ Anwendung finden.
Weniger klar erfordert die deutsche Fassung „eine Verbindung zum
Recht verschiedener Staaten“ und nicht notwendig eine Kollision zwi-
schen diesen Rechten. Aber sowohl der Wortlaut von Art. 1 Abs. 1 in
den meisten Amtssprachen der Gemeinschaft als auch der Zweck der
Bestimmung lassen keinen Zweifel daran, dass eine Kollision zwischen
verschiedenen Rechtsordnungen eine Voraussetzung für die
Anwendung der Kollisionsnormen der Verordnung ist. In dem Maße
jedoch, wie einheitsrechtliche Übereinkommen anwendbar sind,
besteht keine Kollision zwischen verschiedenen Rechtsordnungen. Die
Rom II-Verordnung einschließlich ihres Art. 28 ist dann unanwend-
bar. Dies würde grundsätzlich sogar für solche einheitsrechtlichen
Überein­kommen gelten, die einzelne eigenständige Kollisionsnormen
zur Ergänzung des materiellen Einheitsrechts bereitstellen.

2. Mitgliedstaaten, die nicht Vertragspartei sind

Die vorigen Feststellungen betreffen aber natürlich nur die
Mitgliedstaaten, die zugleich Vertragspartei eines der fraglichen ein-
heitsrechtlichen Übereinkommen sind. In den übrigen Mitglieds­
staaten wird die Rechtskollision nicht durch das Bestehen
eines einheitsrechtlichen Instruments ausgeschlossen. Daher findet die

39
 O. Hartenstein, Rom I-Entwurf und Rom II-Verordnung: Zur Bedeutung zukünf-
tiger Änderungen im Internationalen Privatrecht für das Seerecht, Transportrecht 143,
146 (2008).
1882 jürgen basedow

Rom II-Verordnung dort Anwendung (außer für Dänemark, vgl. Art. 1

Abs. 4).

3. Von Übereinkommen ungeregelte Sachverhalte

Wenn ein Staat sowohl Mitglied der EU als auch Vertragspartei eines
einheitsrechtlichen Übereinkommens ist, regeln die Kollisionsnormen
der Rom II-Verordnung jeden Rechtsstreit, der nicht in den
Anwendungsbereich dieser Konvention fällt. Dies sei am Beispiel des
Übereinkommens über Zusammenstöße von Schiffen erläutert:
Zusammenstöße zwischen Bohrplattformen, die mit dem Meeresboden
fest verbunden sind, und Schiffen sind nicht von dem Übereinkommen
geregelt. Die Haftungsfrage muss daher auf Grundlage des nach der
Rom II-Verordnung anwendbaren nationalen Rechts beantwortet
werden.

4. Lückenfüllung
Schließlich enthält kein einheitsrechtliches Übereinkommen eine voll-
ständige Regelung aller Rechtsfragen, die im Rahmen seiner
Anwendung auftreten werden. Lücken sind unausweichlich. Sie sollten
in erster Linie mit den allgemeinen Rechtsgrundsätzen, welche dem
Übereinkommen zugrunde liegen, gefüllt werden. Während es so aus-
drücklich in Art.7 Abs. 2 des CISG40 angeordnet ist, kann diese
Auslegungsregel ebenso aus den allgemeinen Prinzipien der Vertrags­
auslegung abgeleitet werden.41 Wo keine allgemeinen Rechtsgrundsätze
aus dem Übereinkommen abgeleitet werden können, muss auf das
vom internationalen Privatrecht für anwendbar erklärte nationale
Recht zurückgegriffen werden.

C. Lokalisierung maritimer Delikte

I. Territoriale Anknüpfungspunkte in der in Rom II-Verordnung

Die meisten Anknüpfungspunkte, die in der Rom II-Verordnung
Verwendung finden, sind territorialer Natur. Nach Art. 4 Abs. 1 ist „das

40
 United Nations Convention on Contracts for the International Sale of Goods,
11. April 1980, 1489 UNTS 3.
41
J. Basedow, Uniform Law Conventions and the UNIDROIT Principles of
International Commercial Contracts, 5 Unif. L. Rev. N.S. 129, 133 f. (2000).
 die private haftung aus seedelikten1883

Recht des Staates anzuwenden, in dem der Schaden eintritt“. Im

Hinblick auf die Produkthaftung, die auch im Zusammenhang mit
maritimen Aktivitäten von Bedeutung sein kann, findet sich in Art. 5
Abs. 1 lit. c eine vergleichbare Regelung. Dies trifft auch auf die Haftung
für Umweltschäden zu, auch wenn sich hier der Geschädigte dazu ent-
scheiden kann, „seinen Anspruch auf das Recht des Staates zu stützen,
in dem das schadensbegründende Ereignis eingetreten ist“. Für die
Arbeitskämpfe zwischen den Reedern und Seeleuten sowie ihren
jeweiligen Organisationen verweist Art. 9 hinsichtlich der Haftung auf
das Recht des Staates, „in dem die Arbeitskampfmaßnahme erfolgen
soll oder erfolgt ist“.
Diese territorialen Anknüpfungen führen im Falle von landgestütz-
ten Tätigkeiten zur eindeutigen Identifizierung des maßgeblichen
Rechts. Zwei Besonderheiten maritimer Delikte, bewirken demgegen-
über Zweifel an der intendierten Verweisung. Dies sind das Fehlen
oder die Verminderung von Souveränität im größten Teil der Meere
einerseits und die Begehung von deliktischen Handlungen auf Schiffen
andererseits – also auf beweglichen Objekten, die nicht einfach dem
Küstenstaat, durch dessen Wasser sie gerade fahren, zugeordnet wer-
den können.

II. Weber v. Ogden: Die gerichtliche Zuständigkeit für den

Festlandsockel
Im Zusammenhang mit dem Brüsseler Übereinkommen über die
gerichtliche Zuständigkeit und die Anerkennung und Vollstreckung
von Entscheidungen in Zivil- und Handelssachen musste sich der
Europäische Gerichtshof in zwei Fällen zu vergleichbaren Fragen
äußern. In dem Fall Weber v. Ogden war der deutsche Kläger durch die
Beklagte als Koch auf Bohrplattformen und Schiffen beschäftigt wor-
den, welche die niederländische Flagge führten und sich hauptsächlich
in Gewässern über dem niederländischen Festlandsockel befanden.
Außerdem hatte der Kläger für die Beklagte für drei Monate lang an
Bord eines Schwimmkrans gearbeitet, der sich zur Errichtung der
Brücke über den Großen Belt in dem dänischen Küstenmeer aufhielt.
Dem Gerichtshof wurde vom niederländischen Hoge Raad die Frage
vorgelegt, ob eine Arbeit, die über dem niederländischen Teil des
Festlandsockels unter der Nordsee verrichtet wird, für die Anwendung
des Art. 5 Nr. 1 des Brüsseler Übereinkommens als Arbeit, die in den
1884 jürgen basedow

Niederlanden verrichtet wird, anzusehen oder einer solchen gleichzu-

stellen ist.42
In seinem Urteil wies der Gerichtshof darauf hin, dass diese
Bestimmung nicht auf Arbeitsverträge anwendbar ist, die ausschließ-
lich außerhalb des Staatsgebietes der Vertragsstaaten des EuGVÜ
erfüllt werden; der individuelle Arbeitsvertrag, den der Arbeitnehmer
mit der Ausübung seiner beruflichen Tätigkeit erfüllt, müsse vielmehr
eine Verknüpfung mit dem Hoheitsgebiet mindestens eines
Vertragsstaats aufweisen.43 Zur Beantwortung der Frage, ob Arbeiten
über dem Festlandsockel als in dem jeweiligen Küstenstaat verrichtet
gelten können, verwies der Gerichtshof auf Art. 29 des Wiener
Übereinkommens über das Recht der Verträge44 sowie auf das Genfer
Übereinkommen von 1958 über den Festlandsockel.45 Da sich nach
Art. 2 und 5 des letzteren Übereinkommens die Hoheitsgewalt des
Küstenstaates insoweit auf den Festlandsockel erstreckt, als es die
Erkundung und Ausbeutung der natürlichen Ressourcen betrifft, ent-
schied der Gerichtshof, dass Arbeiten, welche in diesem Zusammenhang
ausgeführt werden, nach Art. 5 Nr. 1 des Brüsseler Übereinkommens
als in dem Küstenstaate vorgenommen gelten müssen.46
Auf einen ersten Blick mag man dieses Urteil dahingehend interpre-
tieren, dass eine allgemeine Gleichsetzung des Festlandsockels und
des Staatsgebietes im Rahmen des Art. 5 Nr. 1 des Brüsseler Über­
einkommens oder gar darüber hinaus vorgenommen wird. Der
Gerichtshof beschränkt seine eigenen Ausführungen nur dadurch
implizit, dass besonders auf die Tätigkeit des Klägers im Bergbau
fokussiert wird. Dies erlaubt den Schluss, dass maritime Tätigkeiten,
die nicht mit der Erkundung und Ausbeutung der natürlichen
Ressourcen im Zusammenhang stehen, von der staatlichen Souveränität
des Küstenstaates nicht erfasst werden. In diesem Zusammenhang stel-
len die Schlussanträge des Generalanwaltes Jacobs ausdrücklich klar,
dass es sich so in dem Fall verhalten könne, „dass ein Schiff, das die

42
 EuGH Fall C-37/00, Herbert Weber v. Universal Ogden Services Ltd., 2002 Slg.
I-2013, Rn. 26.
43
 EuGH (Fn. 42), Rn. 27 f.
44
 S.o. Fn. 32
45
 S.o. Fn. 5; das SRÜ war in diesem Fall nicht anwendbar, da die Niederlande erst
zwei Jahre nach Beginn des Verfahrens dem SRÜ beitraten. Die Feststellungen bezüg-
lich des Übereinkommens über den Festlandsockel können auf das SRÜ übertragen
werden, vgl. GA Jacobs, Schlussanträge vom 18. Oktober 2001 in Herbert Weber v.
Universal Ogden Services Ltd. (Fn. 42), Rn. 18.
46
 EuGH (Fn. 42), Rn. 29, 30, 32 und 35.
 die private haftung aus seedelikten1885

Flagge eines anderen Staates führt, auf der Hohen See über dem
Festlandsockel fährt. Nach dem Übereinkommen über die Hohe See
muss der Flaggenstaat ‘über die seine Flagge führenden Schiffe seine
Hoheitsgewalt und seine Kontrolle in technischen, sozialen und
Verwaltungsangelegenheiten tatsächlich ausüben’ (Artikel 5 Absatz 1),
und diese Schiffe ‘unterstehen auf Hoher See seiner ausschließlichen
Hoheitsgewalt’ (Artikel 6 Absatz 1).“47

III. DFDS Torline v. Sjöfolk: Die Flaggenführung als relevanter Faktor

Der zweite Fall betraf als Klägerin die dänische Reedereivereinigung,
die für DFDS Torline auftrat, und als Beklagte den schwedischen
Gewerkschaftsbund, der für die Gewerkschaft Sjöfolk auftrat. Die
Beklagte hatte den Klägern den Abschluss eines Tarifvertrags für die an
Bord des Schiffes Tor Caledonia arbeitenden polnischen Seeleute ange-
tragen. DFDS war Eigentümerin des im dänischen internationalen
Schiffsregister registrierten Schiffes, das zwischen Göteborg in
Schweden und Harwich in England verkehrte. Da DFDS den Abschluss
eines Tarifvertrages ablehnte, wies Sjöfolk seine schwedischen
Mitglieder an, keine Arbeit an Bord der Tor Caledonia anzunehmen,
und rief andere Gewerkschaften zu Soldidaritätsmaßnahmen auf.
Infolge dieses Aufrufes forderte der schwedische Gewerkschaftsbund
seine Mitglieder auf, jegliche Arbeiten im Zusammenhang mit der Tor
Caledonia zu verweigern, wodurch ein Beladen und Löschen des
Schiffes in schwedischen Häfen verhindert würde. Als Reaktion hier-
auf erhob DFDS zwei Klagen: Mit der ersten Klage vor dem dänischen
Arbeitsgericht (Arbejdsret) beantragte DFDS die Verpflichtung der
beklagten Gewerkschaften anzuerkennen, dass ihre Kampf- und
Solidaritätsmaßnahmen rechtswidrig seien, und ihre Aufrufe zurück-
zunehmen. Mit der anderen Klage gegen Sjöfolk allein machte die
Klägerin vor dem See- und Handelsgericht von Dänemark
Schadensersatz für unrechtmäßige Arbeitskampfmaßnahmen seitens
der Beklagten für Schäden geltend, welche sie infolge der Stilllegung
der Tor Caledonia und durch das Chartern eines Ersatzschiffes erlitten
habe.
Der Gerichtshof wurde durch das Arbeitsgericht angerufen, das
freilich um die Beantwortung von Vorlagefragen ersuchte, die für
beide Verfahren relevant waren. Der Gerichtshof entschied, dass ein

 GA Jacobs (Fn. 45), Rn. 30.

47
1886 jürgen basedow

Rechtsstreit über die Rechtmäßigkeit von Arbeitskampfmaßnahmen

Art. 5 Nr. 3 des Brüsseler Übereinkommens unterfällt.48 Daher finde
die Rechtsprechung des Gerichtshofes zu Art. 5 Nr. 3 auch auf die
rechtliche Beurteilung von Arbeitskampfmaßnahmen Anwendung.
Folglich bestehe die gerichtliche Zuständigkeit nach Wahl des Klägers
bei dem Gericht des Ortes, an dem der Schaden eingetreten ist
(Erfolgsort), oder bei dem Gericht des Ortes, an dem die den Schaden
verursachende Handlung erfolgt ist (Handlungsort).49
Der Gerichtshof wurde ferner um die Beantwortung der Frage
ersucht, wo der Schaden eintrete, den der Schiffseigentümer in einem
solchen Fall erleide. Er stellte klar, dass der Schädigungsort in diesem
Fall nur in Schweden liegen konnte, da die beklagte Gewerkschaft an
diesem Ort ihren Sitz und dort auch den Aufruf zum Arbeitskampf
veröffentlicht hatte.50 Im Hinblick auf den Schadensort wies der
Gerichtshof das nationale Gericht an zu ermitteln, ob ein finanzieller
Verlust dort eingetreten ist, wo der klagende Schiffseigentümer seine
Niederlassung hatte. Der Gerichtshof stellte fest, dass in diesem
Rahmen „der Flaggenstaat, also der Staat, in dem das Schiff registriert
ist, nur als ein Gesichtspunkt unter anderen zu betrachten [ist], die der
Ermittlung des Ortes dienen, an dem der Schaden eingetreten ist. Die
Staatszugehörigkeit des Schiffes spielt nur dann eine entscheidende
Rolle, wenn das nationale Gericht zu dem Ergebnis gelangt, dass der
Schaden an Bord der Tor Caledonia eingetreten ist. In diesem Fall ist
der Flaggenstaat als der Ort zu betrachten, an dem das schädigende
Ereignis den Schaden hervorgerufen hat.“51
Im Einklang mit dem Generalanwalt Jacobs hat der Gerichtshof die
Feststellung des Ortes, an dem der Schaden eingetreten ist, als eine
Tatsachenfrage bezeichnet, deren Beurteilung dem nationalen Gericht
überlassen bleibe.52 Daher ist es bemerkenswert, dass der Gerichtshof,
was die Rolle der Flagge bei dieser Beurteilung betrifft, über die
Feststellungen des Generalanwaltes in seinen Schlussanträgen hinaus-
ging und dazu eine eigene Stellungnahme abgab. Seine diesbezügli-
chen Anmerkungen können für Fälle bedeutsam sein, in denen

48
 EuGH Fall C-18/02, DFDS v. Sjöfolk, 2004 Slg. I-1417, Rn. 28.
49
 EuGH Fall C-21/76, Handelskwekerij G. J. Bier BV v. Mines de potasse d’Alsace
SA, 1976 Slg. 1735, Rn. 24 f.
50
 EuGH (Fn. 48), Rn. 41.
51
 EuGH (Fn. 48), Rn. 44.
52
 GA Jacobs, Schlussanträge vom 18. September 2003 in DFDS v. Sjöfolk (Fn. 48),
Rn. 76 und 78.
 die private haftung aus seedelikten1887

Arbeitskampfmaßnahmen wie z.B. die Weigerung, das Schiff zu

löschen, zum Verlust von verderblichen Gütern an Bord des Schiffes
führen. Schließlich muss konstatiert werden, dass die Ausführungen
des Gerichts zur Bedeutung der Flagge in derartigen Situationen nicht
durch die Bezugzahme auf die Position des Schiffes im Küstenmeer
oder auf der Hohen See relativiert wurden. Vorausgesetzt, dass der
Schaden an Bord des Schiffes eingetreten ist, wurde die Staatszu­
gehörigkeit des Schiffes und nicht die Lage des Schiffes in einem frem-
den Hafen als maßgeblicher Faktor betrachtet.

IV. Folgerungen für das Kollisionsrecht

Die referierten Entscheidungen behandeln die Frage der gerichtlichen
Zuständigkeit in vertraglichen und deliktischen Fragen. Sie bieten kein
umfassendes Bild für die Lokalisierung von maritimen Delikten. Aber
sie deuten auf die künftige Rechtsentwicklung hin, wie sie sich auch in
Bezug auf die Rom II-Verordnung abzeichnet. Dies trifft vielleicht
weniger auf die Entscheidung im Falle DFDS zu, da Art. 9 der Rom
II-Verordnung ausschließt, dass die Auswirkungen einer unrechtmäßi-
gen Arbeitskampfmaßnahme anhand des Rechts des Schadensein­
trittsortes beurteilt werden. Doch können die Ausführungen des
Gerichts zur Rolle der Flagge als ein gewisser Leitfaden für maritime
Delikte dienen.

1. Interne Delikte
Zum einen scheint die DFDS-Entscheidung die hier vollzogene
Unterscheidung zu untermauern zwischen Delikten, die ausschließlich
einen Schaden an Bord eines einzigen Schiffes verursachen, und
Delikten, die einen Schaden entweder auf mehreren Schiffen oder
außerhalb eines Schiffes verursachen, z.B. an festen Einrichtungen wie
Ölbohrplattformen oder Piers oder der Umwelt. In der ersten Gruppe
von Fällen ist die Staatszugehörigkeit des Schiffes von besonderer
Bedeutung, unabhängig davon, wo sich das Schiff befindet, ob im
Küstenmeer oder auf Hoher See. Wenn sich nicht nur der Schaden,
sondern auch das schädigende Ereignis an Bord ein und desselben
Schiffes ereignet, würde die Bedeutung der Staatszugehörigkeit schon
aus dem bereits bestehenden Rechtsverhältnis der Parteien in Einklang
mit Art. 4 Abs. 3 S. 2 der Rom II-Verordnung folgen (vgl. oben A.I.).
Diese Lösung bietet den Vorteil eines kontinuierlichen Rechtsregimes
für Delikte an Bord eines Schiffes, d.h. ein Regime für interne Delikte,
1888 jürgen basedow

das – ohne Statutenwechsel – unverändert andauert, auch wenn das

Schiff durch das Küstenmeer verschiedener Staaten fährt. Knüpfte man
für den Schadensort eines internen Delikts nicht an das Schiff, sondern
an seine jeweilige Position im Küstenmeer oder auf der Hohen See an,
würde das auf Delikte anwendbare Recht im Laufe der Reise immer
wieder wechseln. Die Vermeidung derartiger Statutenwechsel für
Delikte an Bord ist aber wichtig für die Schiffsgemeinschaft, die unver-
ändert und unabhängig davon fortbesteht, ob das Schiff außerhalb
einer Souveränitätssphäre durch die Nordsee fährt, das dänische
Küstenmeer im Großen Belt durchquert oder den Nord-Ostsee-Kanal
passiert. Obendrein befreit diese Fortdauer den Kläger von der
Beweislast für den Ort und die Zeit der Begehung des Delikts, die ihn
sonst träfe.
Sofern interne Delikte auf ortsfesten Einrichtungen begangen wer-
den, insbesondere Bohrinseln, die eine nationale Flagge führen, sind
ähnliche Überlegungen anwendbar. Allerdings werden derartige
Einrichtungen oft nicht in einem Schiffsregister eingetragen und
führen keine nationale Flagge. Man kann aus dem Weber-Urteil des
Gerichtshofes ableiten, dass in derartigen Fällen das Recht des
Küstenstaates anwendbar sein soll, selbst wenn die Bohrinsel sich nicht
in den Territorialgewässern, sondern außerhalb des Küstenmeeres auf
dem Festlandsockel oder innerhalb der ausschließlichen Wirtschafts­
zone befindet.
In vielen Fällen wird die Flagge die Staatszugehörigkeit des Schiffes
bestimmen, wie durch die Entscheidung im Falle DFDS nahegelegt
wurde. Im Hinblick auf offene Register und Billigflaggen (flags of con-
venience) kann dies freilich nur eine Vermutung darstellen, die durch
andere Anknüpfungspunkte wie den Sitz des Reeders, den Ort der
Registrierung, den Heimathafen und die Staatsangehörigkeit des
Kapitäns, der Offiziere oder der Parteien des Rechtsstreits widerlegt
werden kann. Eine Abwägung der verschiedenen Verknüpfungen ist in
derartigen Fällen unausweichlich.

2. Externe Delikte: Festlandsockel oder ausschließliche Wirtschaftszone

Sofern die haftungsursächlichen Tatsachen nicht auf ein einziges Schiff
oder eine einzige Einrichtung begrenzt sind, lässt sich ein zwischen
den Parteien bereits bestehendes Rechtsverhältnis im Sinne des Art. 4
Abs. 3 Satz 2 der Rom II-Verordnung oft nicht feststellen. Unfälle, an
denen Nutzer maritimer Ressourcen ohne vorherige wechselseitige
 die private haftung aus seedelikten1889

Beziehung beteiligt sind, können nicht dem für eine einzelne

Schiffsgemeinschaft geltenden Recht unterworfen werden. In derarti-
gen Fällen sollte der Ort, an dem der Schaden im Sinne von Art. 4
Abs. 1 der Rom II-Verordnung eingetreten ist, für die Anknüpfung
maßgeblich sein und anhand der Position auf See bestimmt werden,
wo er erlitten wurde. Die Lokalisierung, die nach Art. 4 Abs. 1 und
auch anderen Bestimmungen der Rom II-Verordnung notwendig ist,
kann jedoch durch die Grundsätze des Weber-Urteils erleichtert wer-
den. In dem Fall eines Zusammenstoßes zwischen einem Schiff und
einer Bohrinsel auf dem Festlandsockel oder in der ausschließlichen
Wirtschaftszone verfolgt zumindest eine Partei das Ziel des Bergbaus,
auf den sich die Hoheitsgewalt des Küstenstaates bezieht. Daher sollte
das Deliktsrecht dieses Staates Anwendung finden.
Diese Erwägungen können auch im Falle der von Handelsschiffen
ausgehenden Verschmutzung durch Öl oder Chemikalien außerhalb
des Küstenmeeres Geltung beanspruchen. Wenn diese Verschmutzung
zu einem Schaden auf dem Gebiet oder im Küstenmeer eines Staates
führt, erklärt Art. 4 Abs. 1 der Rom II-Verordnung eindeutig das Recht
dieses Staates für anwendbar, um ein internationales Übereinkommen
zu ergänzen oder mangels eines solchen Übereinkommens die Haftung
als ganzes zu regeln.
Die Lösung mag komplizierter sein, wenn sich ein Schaden außer-
halb des Küstenmeeres ereignet und die beeinträchtigte Tätigkeit wie
z.B. im Falle einer über dem Festlandsockel betriebenen schwimmen-
den Fischfarm keine Verbindung zum Bergbau aufweist. Doch hat das
Protokoll von 1992 zu dem Übereinkommen von 1969 über die zivil-
rechtliche Haftung für Ölverschmutzungsschäden unmissverständlich
den Anwendungsbereich des Rechts des Küstenstaates auf Schäden
durch Ölverschmutzung auch innerhalb der ausschließlichen
Wirtschaftszone ausgedehnt.53 Die weitestgehende Anerkennung die-
ses Prinzips, die sich in der Ratifikation des Protokolls von 1992 durch
alle Küstenstaaten der Europäischen Union widerspiegelt, legt eine
Analogie in dem Bereich des Kollisionsrechts nahe: Sofern sich ein
Schaden infolge einer Verschmutzung durch Chemikalien, die nicht
durch irgendein geltendes Übereinkommen abgedeckt ist, außerhalb
des Küstenmeeres etwa bei einer Fischfarm ereignet, sollte das Recht
des Küstenstaates anwendbar sein. Dies würde sich auch mit der

 Vgl. Art. 3 lit. a (ii) CLC PROT 1992 (Fn. 12).

53
1890 jürgen basedow

Ausweitung der Hoheitsgewalt und der souveränen Rechte des

Küstenstaates in der ausschließlichen Wirtschaftszone durch Art. 56
SRÜ decken.

3. Externe Delikte auf der Hohen See

Die Lokalisierung maritimer Delikte außerhalb des Küstenmeeres ist
unmöglich, wenn die Tätigkeiten der Beteiligten die Ausweitung der
Hoheitsgewalt des Küstenstaates nicht rechtfertigen, d.h. wenn keine
Tätigkeiten „zum Zweck der Erforschung und Ausbeutung, Erhaltung
und Bewirtschaftung der lebenden und nichtlebenden natürlichen
Ressourcen der Gewässer über dem Meeresboden, des Meeresbodens
oder seines Untergrundes“ oder „zur wirtschaftlichen Erforschung
und Ausbeutung der Zone wie der Energieerzeugung aus Wasser,
Strömung oder Wind“ betroffen sind.54 Dies gilt insbesondere für die
Schifffahrt.
Der Zusammenstoß von Handelsschiffen unterschiedlicher Flagge
auf der Hohen See, die in dieser Hinsicht auch die ausschließliche
Wirtschaftszone sowie das Meer über dem Festlandsockel mit umfasst,
hat schon immer besondere Probleme für das internationale Privatrecht
mit sich gebracht. Im Laufe der Zeit haben die Gerichte auf solche
Kollisionen die lex fori,55 das Recht der gemeinsamen Flagge der betei-
ligten Schiffe,56 im Falle unterschiedlicher Flaggen das Recht des

54
 Vgl. Art. 56 Abs. 1 SRÜ (Fn. 4).
55
 Selbst wenn alle beteiligten Schiffe dieselbe Flagge führen, werden englische
Gerichte das allgemeine Seerecht anwenden, vgl. Chartered Mercantile Bank of India v.
Netherlands India Steam Navigation Co. (1883), 10 QBD 521, 537 per Brett L.J.; es
wurde allerdings bereits zutreffend darauf hingewiesen, dass ein solches allgemeines
Seerecht „does not exist at all“ und „means nothing more than English law“, siehe
George (Fn. 2), 157 mit weiteren Nachweisen. Sofern die Schiffe unterschiedliche
Flaggen führen, wird der Rückgriff auf die lex fori befürwortet von R. Rodière, Traité
général de droit maritime, Événements de mer, 116 f. (1972), mit einer vergleichenden
Untersuchung und weiteren Nachweisen.
56
 Für Italien siehe Art. 12 der Einführungsbestimmungen des Codice della naviga-
zione vom 30. März 1942: „Legge regolatrice delle obbligazioni derivanti da urto di
navi o aeromobili. Le obbligazioni derivanti da urto di navi o di aeromobili in alto mare
o in altro luogo o spazio non soggetto alla sovranità di alcuno Stato sono regolate dalla
legge nazionale delle navi o degli aeromobili, se è comune; altrimenti dalla legge itali-
ana.“ Auch die Gerichte in den USA bevorzugen die Anwendung des Rechts des
Flaggenstaates gegenüber der Anwendung des allgemeinen Seerechts, sofern die an
einem Zusammenstoß beteiligten Schiffe dieselbe Flagge führen; siehe Alkmeon
Naviera S.A. v. M/V „Marina L“, 633 F2d 789, 792–793 (9th Cir. 1980); vgl. auch
T. J. Schoenbaum, Admiralty Jurisdiction and Maritime Law, § 12–9, 755 (2.
Aufl. 1994). Demselben Grundsatz wird in Frankreich gefolgt, vgl. Rodière (Fn. 55),
115, m.w.N.
 die private haftung aus seedelikten1891

beklagten Schiffes57 oder im letzteren Falle dasjenige der beiden

Flaggenrechte angewandt, das für den Kläger günstiger war.58 Während
sich die letztere Lösung mit dem Ubiquitätsprinzip des deutschen
internationalen Privatrechts deckt,59 ist sie nicht mit der Rom II-
Verordnung zu vereinbaren, die eine derartige alternative Anknüpfung
nach Wahl des Geschädigten nur im Zusammenhang mit der
Umwelthaftung gewährt (vgl. Art. 7). Für einfache Unfälle gibt Art. 4
dem Kläger dagegen kein Wahlrecht, sondern erklärt das Recht des
Schadensortes für anwendbar.
In den hier betrachteten Fällen liegt der Schadensort im mare libe-
rum oder terra nullius, was zwei Konsequenzen nach sich zieht: Zum
einen kann das forum delicti nach Art. 5 Nr. 3 des Brüsseler
Übereinkommens bzw. der Brüssel I-Verordnung nicht bestimmt wer-
den, sodass sich ein zuständiges Gericht in der Regel nur an dem allge-
meinen Gerichtsstand gemäß Art. 2 oder in dem Staat eines
Schiffsarrests findet.60 Zum zweiten sollte diese Schlussfolgerung, die
sich aus Art. 5 Nr. 3 der Brüssel I-Verordnung ergibt, ebenso im
Hinblick auf das anwendbare Recht gezogen werden: die Kollisions­
normen des internationalen Deliktsrechts weisen ins Leere.
Dieser Schluss wird auch durch das Völkerrecht gestützt. In dem
mare liberum oder der terra nullius steht kein Deliktsrecht als ein das
Verhalten bestimmender rechtlicher Handlungsrahmen in Kraft. Dass
die Schiffe auf der Hohen See nach Völkerrecht Gegenstand der „aus-
schließlichen Hoheitsgewalt“ des Flaggenstaates sind,61 kann nur die
internen Beziehungen zwischen den verschiedenen, an der Schiffs­
gemeinschaft beteiligten Interessen sowie die externen Beziehungen
zwischen Schiffen derselben Flagge betreffen. Sofern sich diese
Regel auch auf Zusammenstöße zwischen Schiffen mit unterschiedli-
chen Flaggen bezöge, wäre die durch den Flaggenstaat ausgeübte
Hoheitsgewalt über ein Schiff nicht länger ausschließlich, da jeder der

57
 RG 6.7.1910, RGZ 74, 46; OLG Hamburg 27.9.1973, IPRspr. 1973 Nr. 29; vgl. auch
Rodière (Fn. 55) 116, m.w.N.
58
B. von Hoffmann, in: J. von Staudinger, Kommentar zum Bürgerlichen
Gesetzbuch, Art. 40 EGBGB, Rn. 222 ff. (13. Aufl. 2001), m.w.N. zu dieser Lösung, die
durch viele Autoren in Deutschland vertreten wird.
59
 Siehe Art. 40 Abs. 1 EGBGB.
60
 Siehe Art. 7 Abs. 1 der International Convention Relating to the Arrest of Sea-
Going Ships, 10. Mai 1952, 493 UNTS 193, in: RMC (Fn. 13), Nr. II.2.10.; die
Anwendbarkeit dieses Übereinkommens wird durch die Brüssel I-Verordnung nicht
beeinträchtigt, siehe Art. 71 der Brüssel I-Verordnung.
61
 Art. 92 Abs. 1 S. 1 SRÜ (Fn. 4).
1892 jürgen basedow

beteiligten Flaggenstaaten seine Hoheitsgewalt auf das Schiff ausdeh-

nen würde, das die fremde Flagge führt, sodass im Ergebnis für beide
Schiffe eine konkurrierende Hoheitsgewalt bestünde. Dies stünde im
Widerspruch zu dem klaren Wortlaut des Art. 92 SRÜ. Es kann daher
aus diesen Erwägungen geschlossen werden, dass die Hoheitsgewalt
des Flaggenstaates nicht die zivilrechtliche Haftung infolge eines
Zusammenstoßes mit einem Schiff anderer Flagge auf der Hohen See
umfasst. Soweit solche Zusammenstöße nicht durch das Überein­
kommen von 1910 geregelt werden, scheint die Hoheitsgewalt keines
der beteiligen Staaten sie zu erfassen.
Welche Folgerungen müssen hieraus für das Internationale Privat­
recht gezogen werden? Der Befund bedeutet, von dem Zusammenstoß-
Übereinkommen von 1910 abgesehen, das Fehlen jeglichen Privatrechts
in dem mare liberum oder der terra nullius. In dem Maße, wie auf
Hoher See vorgenommene Handlungen geeignet sind, Wirkungen zu
verursachen, die über die Schiffsgemeinschaft ihres Urhebers hinaus-
gehen und Schiffe betreffen, die der Hoheitsgewalt eines anderen
Staates unterliegen, besteht kein Deliktsrecht, das als Leitfaden dienen
kann. In einer solchen Situation mag man die Anwendung des Rechts
des Flaggenstaates jedes der an dem Zusammenstoß beteiligten Schiffe
im Hinblick auf den jeweils durch dieses Schiff erlittenen Schaden
bevorzugen. Der Schaden, den ein französisches Schiff durch einen
Zusammenstoß mit einen schwedischen Schiff auf der Hohen See erlit-
ten hätte, würde hiernach gemäß französischem Recht beurteilt, wäh-
rend das schwedische Recht im Hinblick auf die Schäden an dem
schwedischen Schiff maßgeblich wäre. Stünde dies nicht Einklang mit
Art. 4 Abs. 1 der Rom II-Verordnung? Nach unserer Auffassung ist dies
nicht der Fall.
Alle Kollisionsnormen der Rom II-Verordnung verweisen auf ein
einziges anwendbares Recht, nicht auf zwei oder mehr unterschiedli-
che Rechte, die auf dasselbe Delikt Anwendung finden. Eine solche
dépeçage könnte ernsthafte Probleme oder sogar schwere Ungerech-
tigkeiten zur Folge haben, wenn die auf die jeweils durch die Parteien
erlittenen Schäden anwendbaren Rechte etwa unterschiedliche
Klagfristen oder abweichende Regelungen über die Haftung für
Verrichtungsgehilfen oder die Aufrechnung vorsehen. Wer eine dépe-
çage für das Deliktsrecht befürwortet, sollte sich der Tatsache bewusst
sein, dass sie im Vertragsrecht bewusst abgeschafft wurde. Sofern die
Parteien eines Vertrages nicht ausdrücklich einer dépeçage nach Art. 3
Abs. 1 der Rom I-Verordnung zugestimmt haben, ist ihr Vertrag nach
 die private haftung aus seedelikten1893

Art. 4 einem einzigen Recht unterworfen. An der Möglichkeit einer

dépeçage, die noch unter Art. 4 Abs. 1 des EVÜ bestand,62 wurde in der
Rom I-Verordnung nicht festgehalten.
Daher scheint Art. 4 der Rom II-Verordnung auf Zusammenstöße
zwischen Schiffen unterschiedlicher Flagge auf der Hohen See nicht
anwendbar zu sein. Das Prinzip der lex loci delicti commissi, auf das in
Erwägungsgrund 15 der Rom II-Verordnung verwiesen wird, ist in
diesem Zusammenhang sinnlos. Man könnte sogar argumentieren,
dass ein Zusammenstoß zwischen zwei Schiffen auf der Hohen See
noch nicht einmal eine Verbindung zum bzw. eine Kollision zwischen
dem Recht mehrerer Staaten im Sinne von Art. 1 Abs. 1 der Rom
II-Verordnung aufweist. Hieraus ließe sich folgern, dass ein solcher
Fall, da er nicht durch die Rom II-Verordnung erfasst wird, den natio-
nalen Kollisionsrechten überlassen bleibt und dass es mangels einer
Rechtskollision für ein Gericht keinen Grund gibt, fremdes Recht
anzuwenden. Daher würde die lex fori Anwendung finden, und der
Kläger könnte durch die Wahl des Gerichtsstandes auch das anwend-
bare Recht bestimmen. Eine solche Auslegung des Art. 1 Abs. 1 mag
freilich den Anwendungsbereich der Rom II-Verordnung allzu sehr
reduzieren. Weist man diese Auslegung des Art. 1 Abs. 1 aber zurück,
so müssen vergleichbare Erwägungen im Rahmen der Rom
II-Verordnung angestellt werden: Soweit die Kollisionsnormen der
Rom II-Verordnung wie hier Art. 4 Abs. 1 auf kein bestimmtes Recht
verweisen, sind die Gerichte der Mitgliedstaaten der Europäischen
Union nicht verpflichtet, ihr eigenes Recht unangewendet zu lassen,
sodass sie zur Anwendung der lex fori berechtigt sind.

D. Zusammenfassung

(1) Maritime Delikte zeichnen sich durch zwei Besonderheiten aus.

Zum einen kann der Schadensort im Sinne von Art. 4 Abs. 1 der Rom
II-Verordnung ein Schiff und damit eine bewegliche Sache sein, die im
Laufe der Zeit ihren Standort in unterschiedlichen Souveränitätssphären
hat. Zum andern kann sich der Standort des Schiffes innerhalb eines
Küstenmeers, aber auch außerhalb auf der Hohen See, wo kein
Deliktsrecht in Kraft ist, befinden.

62
Übereinkommen über das auf vertragliche Schuldverhältnisse anzuwendende
Recht vom 19. Juni 1980, konsolidierte Fassung abgedruckt in: ABl. 2005 C 334/1.
1894 jürgen basedow

(2) Die internationale Vereinheitlichung des materiellen Privat

rechts hatte einen erheblichen Einfluss auf das Seerecht einschließlich
des maritimen Deliktsrechts. Insbesondere Schiffszusammenstöße
sowie die Ölverschmutzung werden durch einheitsrechtliche
Übereinkommen geregelt, die durch die meisten EU Mitgliedstaaten
ratifiziert wurden. Ein Rückgriff auf das internationale Privatrecht ist
keine Voraussetzung für ihre Anwendung, aber das IPR mag sie bei der
Lückenfüllung ergänzen.
(3) Sofern die Auswirkungen eines Delikts, das an Bord eines Schiffes
begangen wurde, sich ausschließlich auf das Schiff beschränken
(„interne Delikte“), ist die Position des Schiffes, sei es in dem
Küstenmeer des Staates A oder B oder auf der Hohen See, unerheblich.
Für derartige interne Delikte ist vor allem das Recht maßgeblich, das
auf die Schiffsgemeinschaft als ein bereits bestehendes Rechtsverhältnis
im Sinne von Art. 4 Abs. 3 der Rom II-Verordnung anwendbar ist.
Alternativ besteht eine Vermutung dafür, dass der Staat, in dem der
Schaden im Sinne von Art. 4 Abs. 1 der Rom II-Verordnung eintritt,
der Flaggenstaat des Schiffes ist. Die Vermutung kann aber im Hinblick
auf Schiffe in offenen Registern oder die unter einer Billigflagge (flag of
convenience) fahren, widerlegt werden.
(4) Diese Regelungen sollten auch auf ortsfeste Einrichtungen wie
künstliche Inseln oder Bohrplattformen Anwendung finden, sofern sie
die Flagge eines Staates führen.
(5) In allen anderen Fällen muss der Schadensort nicht im Hinblick
auf das Schiff oder die Einrichtung, sondern im Hinblick auf die
Position auf der Erdoberfläche bestimmt werden. Hierzu wird das
Küstenmeer wie das Staatsgebiet behandelt.
(6) Auf dem Festlandsockel und in der ausschließlichen Wirt­
schaftszone gewährt das Seevölkerrecht dem Küstenstaat begrenzte
Hoheitsgewalt insbesondere über solche Tätigkeiten, die der Erkun­
dung und Ausbeutung natürlicher Ressourcen über, auf und unter dem
Meeresboden dienen. Für alle Tätigkeiten, die diesem Zweck dienen,
sollten der Festlandsockel sowie die ausschließliche Wirtschaftszone
für die Zwecke des Privatrechts wie Teile des Küstenstaates behan­
delt werden. Zusammenstöße zwischen Einrichtungen wie offshore-
Windrädern oder Bohrinseln und Schiffen werden daher von dem
Recht des Küstenstaates bestimmt.
(7) Mit Ausnahme von Zusammenstößen, die von Handelsschiffen
ausgehen, welche die Gewässer über dem Festlandsockel oder die
ausschließliche Wirtschaftszone eines Küstenstaates queren, sollten
 die private haftung aus seedelikten1895

Delikte, die in diesen Teilen der See Schädigungen verursachen, eben-

falls durch das Recht des Küstenstaates geregelt werden. Dies folgt aus
den oben (Nr. 6) ausgeführten Erwägungen sowie aus einer Analogie
zu dem Übereinkommen von 1969 über die zivilrechtliche Haftung für
Ölverschmutzungsschäden sowie dem Protokoll hierzu von 1992, die
durch alle Küstenstaaten in der EU ratifiziert wurden.
(8) Zusammenstöße zwischen Schiffen, die sich außerhalb des
Küstenmeeres zwischen Schiffen ereignen, die Flaggen verschiedener
Staaten führen, ereignen sich in einer terra nullius, welche die Hohe
See umfasst. Die Hoheitsgewalt des Flaggenstaates, die durch Art. 92
SRÜ begründet wird, ist auf interne Delikte der beteiligten Schiffe
begrenzt; sie erstreckt sich nicht auf Zusammenstöße zwischen Schiffen
mit unterschiedlichen Flaggen. Da sich derartige Zusammenstöße
außerhalb irgendeiner Souveränitätssphäre ereignen, besteht weder ein
forum delicti gemäß Art. 5 Nr. 3 der Brüssel I-Verordnung, noch eine
aus der Rom II-Verordnung folgende Verpflichtung für die Gerichte
der Mitgliedstaaten, fremdes Recht anzuwenden. Schadensersatz­
ansprüche müssen daher nach der lex fori beurteilt werden.
 Die Staat-Kirche-Modelle von Trennung,
Gleichheit und Nähe

Winfried Brugger

Überblickt man die Verfassungen moderner Staaten und die

Menschenrechtspakte, die nach dem 2. Weltkrieg erlassen worden
sind, so ergeben sich für das Verhältnis von Staat und Religion
bzw. Kirche drei Minimalkriterien: (1) eine gewisse Scheidung oder
Trennung der beiden Bereiche sowie grundsätzliche (2) Freiheit der
Religionsausübung und (3) Gleichbehandlung der Religionen.
Ausgeschlossen sind damit Staat-Kirche-Systeme, die durch weitge-
hende Identifikation oder Union von geistlicher und weltlicher
Herrschaft gekennzeichnet sind, also gar keine oder fast keine Distanz
zueinander aufweisen.1 „Formelle Einheitssysteme“ von Staat und
Kirche dagegen, die zwar eine Staatskirche oder Nationalreligion orga-
nisatorisch vorsehen, grundrechtlich aber weitgehend Freiheit und
Gleichheit garantieren, wie etwa in Großbritannien oder Griechenland,
sind damit nicht von vornherein verfassungs- oder menschenrechts-
widrig. Der Grund dafür ist, dass die Begriffe Distanz/Scheidung,
Freiheit und Gleichheit unterschiedlich ausgelegt werden können: zum
einen offener, kompromissbereiter in Bezug auf eine traditionell starke
Religion in einem Land und deren Berührungspunkte mit der
Staatsgewalt, zum anderen strikter, strenger, absoluter in Bezug auf den
erforderlichen Abstand oder die erforderliche Freiheit und Gleichheit
in der Religionsausübung.
Im Folgenden werden drei Modelle von Staat und Religion/Kirche
vorgestellt, die sich alle in diesem Minimalrahmen des modernen
Rechts bewegen, aber dann doch unterschiedliche Schwerpunkte bil-
den. Ein jedes dieser Modelle findet sich annäherungsweise in den
Verfassungen einzelner Länder, in der Rechtsprechung höchster
Gerichte und/oder in den Vorschlägen von Verfassungsjuristen und
Politikern. Wie zu zeigen sein wird, birgt jedes der drei folgenden

1
Zu diesem Typus von Staat-Kirche-Verhältnis siehe W. Brugger, Varianten
der Unterscheidung von Staat und Kirche, 132 Archiv des öffentlichen Rechts,
Abschnitt II, 4 ff. (2007).
1898 winfried brugger

Modelle von Trennung, Gleichheit und Nähe spezifische Vorteile und

Nachteile für Recht und Politik.

A. Das erste Modell: Freiheit der Religionen vom Staat

durch große Distanz und strikte Trennung

In diesem Modell heißt größte Religionsfreiheit größte Distanz zwi-

schen Staat und Religion als solcher wie zu den einzelnen Religionen,
denn in größter Distanz zur Staatsgewalt können sich, so unterstellt
dieser Ansatz, Gläubige und Kirchen unbehelligt entfalten. Nur so
können die Religionen am reinsten ihre Lehre entwickeln, ihre eigenen
Regeln formulieren und durchsetzen. Von einem solchen Regime pro-
fitieren grundsätzlich alle Religionen, aber faktisch gewinnen primär
Minderheitsreligionen für den Fall, dass sie von den herrschenden
Kräften in der Politik oder auch von Mainstreamreligionen nicht gern
gesehen, gar verachtet oder bekämpft werden. Von Staatsseite aus zu
verbieten oder zu reglementieren ist im Distanzmodell aber schwierig,
denn für den Staat ist nach diesem Modell jede Religion gleich, gleich
gültig, aber auch gleichgültig. Ob die Religionsgemeinschaft groß oder
klein, reich oder arm ist, sich gemäßigt oder radikal verhält, mit den
Verfassungswerten übereinstimmt oder diese ablehnt, hat den Staat
grundsätzlich nicht zu kümmern. Religionen sind einfach Wettbewerber
im weithin ungezügelten Markt der Transzendenz. Das Modell unter-
stellt zudem, dass eine solche Distanz am besten nicht nur für die
Religionen ist, sondern auch für die weltliche Macht. Diese hält sich
aus den fundamentalistischen Streitigkeiten heraus, die sich manch-
mal zwischen den einzelnen Religionen ergeben, und konzentriert
sich auf die Bewahrung der säkularen Interessen an Lebensschutz,
Gewaltfreiheit und möglichst gutem materiellen Leben.
Damit ist auch die Grenze für den Distanzschutz gegenüber dem
Staat genannt: Sie liegt dort, wo eine Glaubensgemeinschaft nach
außen gewalttätig wird und damit der allgemeine Friede und der
Lebensschutz als säkulares Gut bedroht werden, jedenfalls bei Vorliegen
einer klaren und unmittelbaren Gefahr. Die Grenze des Distanzschutzes
liegt möglicherweise auch dort, wo nach innen Zwang oder Gewalt
gegen Gläubige zur Anwendung kommt oder Unterscheidungen zwi-
schen einzelnen Gruppenmitgliedern (etwa zwischen Männern und
Frauen) praktiziert werden, die sich aus Sicht der säkularen Werte
des Gemeinwesens als illegitime Diskriminierungen darstellen. Falls
der Staat auch im Innenverhältnis der Religionsgemeinschaften
 die staat-kirche-modelle1899

kontrollieren will, um Individuen vor Diskriminierung, vor „zuviel“

Religion oder „falscher“ Religion zu schützen, etwa bei weitgehender
Unterordnung der Gläubigen oder bei finanziellen Zugriffen, wird
das Distanzmodell natürlich brüchig und verliert seinen prioritä-
ren Anspruch. Für diesen Fall setzen das liberale Motto von „enter
and exit“ und die Maxime weitgehender Gleichbehandlung dem
Distanzierungsmodell Grenzen. Solche Relativierungen des Distanz­
modells zeigen sich auch, wenn expansive Verständnisse von verbote-
nem Zwang oder illegaler Gewalt vertreten werden. Das wird
insbesondere relevant, wenn der Staat nicht nur für den Schutz der
physischen, sondern auch der psychischen Integrität von Gläubigen
verantwortlich ist, etwa bei der Überwachung so genannter
„Psychosekten“. Je durchlässiger das Distanzgebot ist, desto mehr
Reglementierungskompetenz nimmt der Staat für die Durchsetzung
seiner allgemeinen Staatsbürgermoral oder seiner Verfassungswerte
gegenüber den Werten der einzelnen Religionsgemeinschaften in
Anspruch.
Doch gehen wir zurück zum Distanzmodell. Ein effektives
Distanzmodell führt zu strikter Trennung von Staat und Kirche und zu
einer größeren Bereitschaft von Verfassungsgerichten, staatlichen
Zwang und Ungleichbehandlungen gegenüber Gläubigen und
Glaubensgemeinschaften früh, schon bei marginalen Eingriffen und
Ungleichbehandlungen zu diagnostizieren und als verfassungswidrig
einzustufen. Was heißt das konkret?
Nehmen wir als Beispiel eine staatliche Subvention für Busse, die
Schüler von ihren weit entfernten Wohnorten sowohl zu öffentlichen
wie kirchlichen Schulen und wieder nach Hause bringen.2 Gegen eine
solche finanzielle Hilfe ist auf den ersten Blick nichts zu sagen, sie
schützt das Leben der Schüler und fördert durch effektiven Zeiteinsatz
die schulische Erziehung. Ferner werden die Schüler und ihre Eltern zu
nichts gezwungen, vielmehr liegt nur ein Angebot vor. Schließlich liegt
auch keine Ungleichbehandlung, sondern gerade eine Gleichbehandlung
zwischen staatlichen und religiösen Schulen vor. All das spricht für die
Legitimität einer solchen Bussubvention. Aus Sicht des Modells der
strikten Trennung und der Interpretation von Freiheit als deutliche,
gar größtmögliche Distanz kommt man aber zu einem anderen
Ergebnis: Denn durch den Transportzuschuss wird diese Trennung

2
Das Beispiel bezieht sich auf den US-amerikanischen Fall Everson v. Board of
Education, 330 U.S. 1 (1947).
1900 winfried brugger

zwischen Staat und Kirche aufgeweicht, man nähert sich an, subventi-
oniert sogar das Gegenüber, das eigentlich in größter Ferne gehalten
werden sollte. Ferner werden über die Subventionierung vielleicht wei-
tere finanzielle Wünsche der Kirchen geweckt, die noch ganz andere
Annäherungen wahrscheinlich machen und so die Sphären der beiden
Mächte Religion und Staat vermischen, im Grunde verderben, in ihrer
Reinheit aufweichen.
Was sind die Vorteile und Nachteile eines solchen strikten
Distanzmodells? Vorteil ist, dass die größtmögliche Reinheit und
Freiheit der Lehren der Glaubensgemeinschaften gegenüber staatli-
cher Reglementierung gewährleistet wird. Ferner tauchen keine
Gleichheitsprobleme bei der Behandlung religiöser Anschauungen
und Organisationen im Land auf, weil die Staatsgewalt sich schlicht
fernhält; sie kümmert sich um nichts außerhalb der Abwehr von
Gewalt. Soweit Gleichheitsprobleme von gesellschaftlichen oder religi-
ösen Kräften behauptet werden, etwa zwischen den großen und klei-
nen, gemäßigten und radikalen Kirchen, sind diese Probleme aus
staatlicher Sicht im Wettbewerb der Religionen selbst zu lösen. Staat
und Recht haben nur eine Rahmenordnung zur Verfügung zu stellen,
die Gewalt ausschließt.
Unklar bleibt in diesem Modell das Verhältnis von weltlicher
Verfassungsmoral gegenüber Religionsmoral. Sie erscheinen als sepa-
rate, isolierte Quellen zur Orientierung des Lebens; wie sie zueinander
stehen, bleibt offen. Darin kann man einen Nachteil sehen: Es findet
keine Abstimmung, keine institutionelle Vermittlung der beiden
Moralquellen statt, aus der ein gemeinsamer Fundus von sozialintegra-
tiven Ausrichtungen zu erwarten wäre. Wenn das strikte Distanz- und
Trennungsmodell trotzdem attraktiv erscheint, dann offenbar in einem
historischen Kontext oder einem Zukunftsszenario, in dem schwere
religiöse Auseinandersetzungen vorliegen oder aber eine Überwältigung
bzw. eine Dominierung des Staates durch eine Religion droht. Vor
einem solchen realen oder fiktiven Szenario ergibt die Einsetzung und
Stabilisierung größtmöglichen Abstandes zwischen weltlicher und
geistlicher Macht Sinn.

B. Das zweite Modell: Gleichheit der

Religionen als vorrangiger Wert

Hier steht nicht Freiheitssicherung durch Distanz, sondern

Gleichheitssicherung im Vordergrund. Es kommt nicht oder nicht so
 die staat-kirche-modelle1901

sehr auf Nähe oder Ferne von Staat und Kirche an, solange keine ver-
botene materielle Union zwischen beiden vorliegt. Vielmehr ist inner-
halb des Hauptwertes Gleichheit zu entscheiden, ob eine formale oder
aber eine materiale Gleichheit zwischen den Kirchen und deren
Verhältnis zum Staat vorherrschen soll. Das formale Gleichheitsmo­
dell wurde schon im Distanzmodell angesprochen: Danach ist jede
Glaubensgemeinschaft für den Staat gleich, gleich gültig und gleichgül-
tig, egal ob sie groß oder klein, reich oder arm, gemäßigt oder radikal
ist. Meist wird aber das Gleichheitsaxiom in diesem Modell in einer
stärkeren Funktion in Anschlag gebracht: Es umfasst strikte
Gleichbehandlung auch und gerade der kleineren Gemeinschaften,
vielleicht sogar die Angleichung der Chancen gerade der kleineren
oder Minoritätsreligionen, auch wenn dabei Distanz verloren geht.
Nehmen wir als Beispiel das Präsentieren eines Symbols der
Mehrheitsreligion in einer staatlichen Schule, etwa des Kreuzes in
einem stark christlich geprägten Land.3 Eine solche Präsentation ist aus
Sicht des Distanzmodells klar illegitim. Anders sieht dies im Rahmen
der Priorität des materialen Gleichheitsrechts aus: Dann kommt es pri-
mär darauf an, ob neben dem Symbol der Traditionsreligion auch die-
jenigen Symbole aufgestellt werden, die für die Religionen der
Minderheitsschüler in der jeweiligen Klasse oder Schule repräsentativ
sind; Gleiches müsste für nicht-religiöse Überzeugungen und Symbole
weltanschaulicher Art gelten – auch sie müssten präsentiert werden.
In dem schon erwähnten Schulbusbeispiel käme ebenfalls eine andere
Lösung zustande als im Distanzmodell: Eine räumliche Annäherung
an Religion durch Subventionierung des Transports von Schülern zu
ihren Schulen ist kein Problem, solange Gleichheit zwischen Schülern
von staatlichen und religiösen Schulen und zwischen religiösen
Schulen jeder Art gewahrt wird.
Das Beispiel führt zu einem generellen Punkt: Was finanzielle
Unterstützungen von Glaubensgemeinschaften und Kirchen angeht, so
sind zwei Bereiche zu unterscheiden. Im ersten Bereich geht es um
Kult, Ritus und Bekenntnis, also das Proprium von Religion. Rein vom
Gleichheitsaxiom her gesehen, besteht kein Hindernis auch für
deren staatliche Subventionierung, soweit dies eben „gleich“ geschieht

3
Den realen Fall hinter diesem Beispiel hat das deutsche Bundesverfassungsge­
richt entschieden: BVerfGE 93, 1 – Kruzifix-Fall. Ausführlich hierzu der Band von
W. Brugger / S. Huster (Hrsg.), Der Streit um das Kreuz in der Schule. Zur religiös-
weltanschaulichen Neutralität des Staates (1998).
1902 winfried brugger

(was immer dies heißen mag, etwa gleich viel Geld, unabhängig von
der Größe der Religion oder aber gestuft nach Mitgliederzahl).
Trotzdem sind solche genuin religiösen Förderungen verboten: Das
ergibt sich aus dem für das moderne Recht und Menschenrechtsdenken
vorausgesetzten Rahmen einer grundsätzlichen Scheidung von weltli-
chen und genuin religiösen Angelegenheiten und Mächten. Soweit es
aber nicht um den genuin religiösen Bereich von Kult, Ritus und
Bekenntnis geht, sondern umgekehrt eine Nähe zu staatlichen
Aufgaben wie vor allem der Unterstützung von Jungen, Alten, Armen,
Schwachen und Kranken existiert, bestehen weniger Bedenken aus
Gründen der Unterscheidung von Staat und Kirche.
Dafür nehmen die Umsetzungsprobleme zu. Wo und wie ist, falls
überhaupt, bei finanzieller Unterstützung auf den unterschiedlichen
Charakter dieser Gemeinschaften abzustellen? Schließlich gibt es
eine Vielzahl von kleinen bis zu großen, von lose verbundenen
bis zu straff organisierten, von armen bis zu reichen, von angepass-
ten bis zu fundamentalistischen Glaubensgemeinschaften. Welche
Unterstützungsmaßnahmen, gar Ausgleichsmaßnahmen, sind, falls
überhaupt, geboten? Das Hauptproblem besteht darin, dass
Förderprogramme, die auf die Glaubensgemeinschaften abgestimmt
sind, natürlich auch vieles über diese wissen müssen, also Interna zur
Kenntnis nehmen und bewerten müssen. Das ist zwar nicht unbedingt
ein Problem aus Gesichtspunkten der Gleichheit, wohl aber aus der
Maxime der Freiheitsgewähr durch Distanz!
Zusammenfassend zu den Vorteilen und Nachteilen des Gleich­
heitsansatzes: Dieser hat sicher Vorteile im Rahmen des politischen
Ziels der Integration von Minderheitsreligionen. Das gilt insbeson-
dere dann, wenn deren Anhänger sensibilisiert sind für jede Art
von Ungleichbehandlung, ja vielleicht sogar hinter jedem Nachteil
Ablehnung und Verachtung wahrnehmen, wie das wohl für manche
Anhänger des Islam in Deutschland gilt. Umgekehrt kann besondere
Rücksichtnahme auf oder Hilfe für Minderheitsreligionen auch zur
Desintegration von Anhängern einer Mehrheitsreligion führen, falls
diese die Einschätzung entwickeln, Gesetz und Recht gälten nicht mehr
allgemein, sondern böten einen Sonderstatus für Minderheiten und
gerade deren Sensibilitäten. Man denke etwa an Vorstellungen bei
Teilen der deutschen Bevölkerung, die sich daran stoßen, dass das
Kreuz in der Schule bei Widerspruch eines Schülers abzunehmen
ist, während muslimische Lehrerinnen jedenfalls mancherorts ihr
 die staat-kirche-modelle1903

Kopftuch tragen dürfen.4 Ein weiteres Beispiel ist, dass eine Befreiung
vom gemeinsamen Sportunterricht nur Muslimas, nicht aber christli-
chen Schülerinnen zugestanden wird, auch wenn diese vergleichbare
Argumente dafür vorbringen, dass ihre Körper weitgehend verhüllt
bleiben müssten.5 Aus Sicht des Distanzansatzes hat das Gleichheits­
modell freilich das Problem, dass es Näheverhältnisse nicht nur nicht
vermeidet, sondern sogar suchen muss, um dann wegen des Ziels
der Gleichbehandlung oder gar Ausgleichung zwischen groß und
klein oder arm und reich mit allen Glaubensgemeinschaften zu
kooperieren. Damit sind Vermischungen und – jedenfalls aus Sicht der
Distanztheorie – „Verunreinigungen“ von Weltlichem und Geistigem
zu erwarten.

C. Das dritte Modell: Integration durch Nähe von

Zivilreligion und Verfassungsmoral

Nähe als Leitbegriff signalisiert schon den Unterschied zum

Trennungsmodell. Nicht große oder gar größtmögliche Distanz zwi-
schen Staat und Kirche ist das Motto, sondern eine Annäherung, eine
gegenseitige Ergänzung der beiden Mächte bis hin zur Kooperation in
Bezug auf denjenigen Pool an Moral oder Bürgersinn, auf den die
gesamte soziale Ordnung angewiesen ist. Zu vermeiden ist dabei aller-
dings die Gleichsetzung oder totale Identifikation zwischen einer
Religion und einem Staatsgebilde, sei es in Botschaft, Organisation
oder Personal. Es soll also grundsätzlich bei einer Scheidung des
geistlich-religiösen vom weltlichen Bereich bleiben; somit darf der
Papst nicht weltlicher Herrscher sein oder umgekehrt. Warum sollte
überhaupt eine Annäherung stattfinden? Weil es möglich, wenngleich
nie sicher ist, dass es trotz der geschilderten Unterschiede doch auch
Verbindendes gibt. Was könnte das sein?
Das kann, erstens, das grundsätzliche Aufbau- oder zumindest
Ergänzungsverhältnis von Staatsbürgermoral und Religionsmoral sein.
Aktive, engagierte Bürger können nicht oder nicht immer ausreichend

4
Siehe den Überblick bei G. Czermak, Religions- und Weltanschauungsrecht, § 13
IV und V 5 (2008).
5
 Nachweise bei Czermak (Fn. 4), Rn. 262 ff. und bei M. Brenner, Staat und Religion,
59 Veröffentlichungen der Vereinigung der Deutschen Staatsrechtslehrer 282, Fn. 71,
72 (2000).
1904 winfried brugger

vom Staat oder staatlichen Schulen allein geformt werden; dazu bedarf
es auch der Unterstützung von Familien und Religionen und
Glaubensgemeinschaften. Diese Institutionen sind es vor allem, die
Kindern und Jugendlichen die gegenseitige Abhängigkeit von indivi-
dueller Persönlichkeitsentfaltung und reichen sozialen, kulturellen
und religiösen Lebenswelten deutlich machen. Diese Näheverhältnisse
oder „core communities“ sind es, die das Verständnis für den Gedanken
der Anreicherung subjektiver Lebensführungsperspektiven durch
umfassende Lebensformen fördern.6 Damit wird nicht impliziert, dass
von einem bestimmten Bild der Staatsbürgermoral aus religiöse
Überzeugungen oder familiäre Werte uniformiert und instrumentali-
siert werden dürften oder müssten. Die partielle Autonomie dieser
Bereiche und damit auch das Spannungsverhältnis zwischen ihnen
muss erhalten bleiben. Dass vom Familienwohl aus Kritik am Religions­
wohl oder Staatswohl, oder umgekehrt, möglich ist und auch faktisch
vorkommt,7 wird nicht geleugnet, sondern vorausgesetzt; ebenso aber
wird der Blick gerichtet auf die grundsätzlich allen drei Bereichen
eigene Ganzheits- und Bindungsperspektive, ohne die ein jedes
Gemeinwohl, auch das des Staates, kaum zum Zuge kommen kann.
Die Konzeption von Nähe kann zweitens, historisch, in solchen
Ländern ein besonderes Gewicht bekommen, in denen bedeutsame
Teile der Gesellschaftsmoral vielleicht nicht exklusiv, aber doch gewich-
tig von einer einzelnen religiösen Mehrheitstradition geprägt worden
sind, wie etwa in Westeuropa durch das katholische und protestanti-
sche Christentum oder in Osteuropa durch die orthodoxe Kirche.
Eine solche tiefe geschichtliche Prägung ist nicht automatisch gleich-
zusetzen mit politischen Zufallsmehrheiten für dieses oder jenes
Zeitgeistprogramm; es handelt sich vielmehr um über lange Zeiträume
gewachsene Traditionen, die sich in einfachen und schwierigen Zeiten

6
Zu den „core communities“ s. P. Selznick, The Moral Commonwealth. Social
Theory and the Promise of Community, 184 ff (1992).
7
Siehe den interessanten Fall Wisconsin v. Yoder, 406 U.S. 205 (1971), wo Angehörige
der Amish-Sekte erfolgreich einklagten, ihre Kinder nicht in höhere staatliche Schulen
schicken zu müssen, obwohl das generell geboten war. Der U.S. Supreme Court unter-
suchte die von der Religionsgemeinschaft selbst unternommenen Anstrengungen im
Bereich der Erziehung und kam zu dem Schluss: „The Amish alternative to formal
secondary school education has enabled them to function effectively in their day-
to-day life […] this is strong evidence that they are capable of fulfilling the social and
political responsibilities of citizenship without compelled attendance beyond
the eighth grade at the price of jeopardizing their free exercise of religious belief “
(id., 225).
 die staat-kirche-modelle1905

und oft gegen Widerstände gebildet und somit eine historische

Bewährungsprobe hinter sich haben. Man denke bei uns, in Westeuropa,
an die Werte von Autonomie und Subjektivität, die stark durch
Liberalismus und Aufklärung sowie den Ruf des (religiösen) Gewissens
geprägt worden sind, während der einschlägige Ausgleichswert der
Unterstützung von Armen, Schwachen und Kranken stark durch das
Christentum und daneben durch säkulare Sozialstaatstraditionen
geformt worden ist. Ein weiteres Beispiel ist die für unser Land prä-
gende Vorstellung, dass jeder Mensch unverfügbar und unauswechsel-
bar ist, eine Würde besitzt, die ihn Strategien bloßer Verwertung und
Instrumentalisierung entzieht. Dieser Gedanke, der in Art. 1 des deut-
schen Grundgesetzes mit dem Gebot, die Würde zu achten und zu
schützen, integriert ist, hat stark christliche Konnotationen, die
auf der Gottesebenbildlichkeit eines jeden Menschen aufbauen.
Damit wird wiederum nicht geleugnet, dass es andere, säkulare
Vorstellungen geben kann und in diesem Fall vor allem im Kantischen
Würdeverständnis gibt, die ähnliche Gedanken wirkungsmächtig aus-
drücken.8 Soweit solche Konstellationen vorliegen, besteht die Identität
eines Landes in dem partikularen Mix von habitualisierten und institu-
tionalisierten Haltungen und Wertungen, die sich im Laufe der
Geschichte zu einem charakteristischen Menschen-, Gesellschafts-
und Staatsbild gewandelt haben, das gerade in seiner Partikularität
über die natürlich immer auch mögliche Charakterisierung als
„Mensch, Gesellschaft, Staat überhaupt“ hinausgeht.
Dieses Argument lässt sich in Bezug auf die Rolle von Religionen
generalisieren: In Ländern, die stark durch eine bestimmte religi-
öse Richtung geprägt worden sind, wie etwa Europa durch das
Christentum, hat sich diese Religion in manche oder auch viele Teile
der Gesellschafts- und Verfassungsmoral hineingearbeitet. Dafür
wird dann oft der Titel Zivilreligion benutzt.9 „Zivilreligion“ konno-
tiert zwei Elemente: Das erste bezieht sich auf die Ausbreitung einer

8
Siehe W. Brugger, Das anthropologische Kreuz der Entscheidung in Politik und
Recht, Anhang: Menschenwürde im anthropologischen Kreuz der Entscheidung,
Abschnitt II, 194 ff. (2. Aufl. 2008).
9
Der Begriff geht ursprünglich auf Rousseaus „Contrat social“ zurück, ist aber in der
neueren Diskussion wesentlich durch den amerikanischen Soziologen Robert N. Bellah
geprägt worden, dessen wegweisender Aufsatz über „Civil Religion in America“ 1967 in
der Zeitschrift 96 Daedalus. Journal of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences
1–21 (1967), erschienen ist. Deutsche Übersetzung in: H. Kleger / A. Müller (Hrsg.),
Religion des Bürgers. Zivilreligion in Amerika und Europa, 19 ff. (1986).
1906 winfried brugger

ursprünglich genuin religiösen Wertung in die gesellschaftliche Moral

hinein – hier steht begrifflich „Zivil“ vor „Religion“. Das zweite Element
stellt „Religion“ vor „Zivil“, insofern diese verallgemeinerten Bestände
eine spezifisch religiöse Tiefen- oder Bindungsdimension bewahren,
die nicht allen Normgeboten innewohnt und die oft eine hohe Hürde
für tagespolitische Manipulation aufstellt. Für die gesamtgesellschaftli-
che Integration wäre es vermutlich kontraproduktiv, diesen ursprüng-
lich religiösen, inzwischen partiell verallgemeinerten und somit
zivilreligiösen Wertestrang nicht zur Kenntnis zu nehmen oder nicht
zu unterstützen oder ihn ohne weiteres mit anderen Religionen gleich-
zusetzen, die noch nicht diese Probe, diesen Test der zivilreligiösen
Ausbreitung, hinter sich gebracht haben. Und um solche drohende
Desintegration abzuwenden, wird dann über das Nähe-Prinzip ver-
sucht, die bisherigen produktiven Aufbauverhältnisse aufrechtzuerhal-
ten, auch wenn diese mehrheitlich von einer bestimmten religiösen
Quelle, wie bei uns dem Christentum (neben dem Konkurrenzstrang
Aufklärung), geprägt sind. Hier erkennt man auch, warum in man-
chen Ländern trotz der weitgehenden Garantie von Religionsfreiheit
noch eine Nationalreligion in der Verfassung verankert ist: Damit
soll, unter Inkaufnahme gewisser, nicht zu weitgehender Minderungen
des Gleichheitsschutzes aller Religionen, die prägende Bedeutung
dieser einen Religion als Kulturfaktor hervorgehoben werden.
Integration als Ziel wird in dieser Konzeption durchaus anerkannt, ja
betont, wenngleich eher mit dem Ziel der Bewahrung gewachsener
Loyalitätsverhältnisse; im Gegensatz dazu hat sich das Modell 2 mit
dem Schwerpunkt auf Gleichstellung eher der Integration und
besonderen Förderung von Minderheitsgruppen und -religionen
verschrieben.
Was sind die Vor- und Nachteile des Nähemodells? Wenn die Identi­
tät und normative Einigkeit eines Staates in einem Kern von Zivilreli­
gion liegt, zu dem die drei Haupttransmissionsriemen Staat, Familien
und Religion(en) ihr je eigenes Scherflein beigetragen haben und wei-
terhin beitragen, dann ergibt es Sinn und ist es vorteilhaft, wenn die
staatliche Gewalt dieses Identifikations- und Loyalitätspotential nicht
kappt oder indifferent betrachtet, sondern als knappe Ressource
ansieht, die der Anerkennung und auch Unterstützung wert ist.10 Diese

10
Siehe z.B. die Ausführungen in Walz v. Tax Commissioner of New York, 397
U.S. 664 (1970), ein Fall, in dem der Staat New York religiöse Gemeinschaften von
der Grundsteuer ausgenommen hatte. Dort sprach der U.S. Supreme Court von
 die staat-kirche-modelle1907

familiären und religiösen Voraussetzungen der Staatsbürgermoral

kann der Staat nicht in eigener Kompetenz herstellen, aber er kann
bestehende produktive Bande als solche anerkennen und ihnen
Unterstützung zukommen lassen.11 Damit rückt auch der Nachteil der
Nähekonzeption ins Bild: Wenn der Staat solche integrativen Kräfte
anerkennt oder gar fördert, dann führt das in Fällen wie im „Westen“,
wo das Christentum zusammen mit dem Konkurrenten Liberalismus
eine besonders wichtige Rolle gespielt hat, natürlich auch zu einer stär-
keren Anerkennung der prägenden religiösen Kräfte. Es kommt zu
einer stärkeren Berücksichtigung und Anerkennung der sowieso kul-
turell, politisch und religiös vorherrschenden Glaubensrichtung,
soweit eine solche in dem betreffenden Land oder dem betreffenden
Kontinent, wie bei uns in Westeuropa das Christentum, vorhanden ist.
Für Kritiker dieses Modells drängt sich das Wort „Vermachtung“ auf.
Damit liegt natürlich für die Minderheitsreligionen der Verdacht von
Bevormundung, Ungleichbehandlung und Diskriminierung nahe,
und die Vermutung, dass Politisches und Religiöses vermischt werden,
ist auch nicht fern.
Trotzdem ist dieser Schluss nicht zwingend, denn solche
Annäherungen müssen immer die zu Beginn skizzierten Kern- oder
Minimalgehalte von Religionsfreiheit, Religionsgleichheit und struk-
tureller Scheidung von Staat und Kirche/Religion respektieren. Also ist
kein Rechtszwang zur Ausübung von (einer bestimmten) Religion
zulässig; Rechtsnachteile für Minderheitsreligionen (etwa bei der
Besetzung öffentlicher Ämter) sind ausgeschlossen; äußerer Rechts­
zwang und innerer Gewissenszwang sind geschieden. Verbaut ist in
diesem Modell lediglich die Verabsolutierung von Trennung und
Distanz, wie sie tendenziell das erste Modell anzielt. Verbaut ist auch
eine automatische Angleichung oder Ausgleichung zugunsten von
Minderheitsreligionen durch „gleiche“ oder gar „besonders starke“
Förderung, wie das im zweiten Modell naheliegt. Insoweit kann man
sagen, dass im dritten Modell, wie in den beiden anderen Modellen,
Vor- und Nachteile sich mehr oder weniger ausgleichen. Im einen

Institutionen „that exist in harmonious relationship to the community at large and

foster its ‘moral and mental improvement’“ (id., 672). Das Gericht meinte auch, dass
„the state has an affirmative policy that considers these groups as beneficial and stabi-
lizing influences in community life“ (id., 673).
11
An dieser Stelle ist das Böckenförde-Diktum angesiedelt. Siehe E.-W. Böckenförde,
Staat, Gesellschaft, Freiheit. Studien zur Staatstheorie und zum Verfassungsrecht,
Kap. 2: Die Entstehung des Staates als Vorgang der Säkularisation, 42, 60 (1976).
1908 winfried brugger

Modell droht eher die Majorisierung, im anderen die Minorisierung.

Im einen Modell droht eher Vergleichgültigung von staatlicher Seite,
im anderen eher eine Bevormundung durch zu viel Enge und
Förderung. Verluste können bei jedem Modell auftreten. Diejenigen,
die einen Verlust spüren durch (aus ihrer Sicht) zu viel oder zu wenig
an Distanz, Freiheit, Gleichheit oder Nähe, werden Widerspruch
anmelden. So unvermeidbar das ist, so vermeidbar sollte der Schluss
sein, dass ein jeder solcher Protest automatisch ein Unrechtsregime
identifiziert und deshalb Gewalt provozieren dürfte. Gerade weil die
Mindestvoraussetzungen von Rechtlichkeit, Freiheitlichkeit und
Gleichbehandlung in allen drei Modellen gewahrt sind bzw. gewahrt
werden müssen, sollten Vertreter aller dieser Staat-Kirche-Modelle ler-
nen, die jeweiligen Gewinne „mitzunehmen“, die damit verbundenen
Verluste aber auch zu „ertragen“. Zum „Vertragen“ reicht das vielleicht
noch nicht aus, zum Ausschluss von Gewalt und Krieg sollte es allemal
reichen.
 Zu den Implikationen der EU-Mitgliedschaft FÜR
die Stellung und Anwendung des Völkerrechts im
innerstaatlichen Bereich

Astrid Epiney

A. Einleitung

Die Frage nach dem Verhältnis von Völker- und Landesrecht ist eine
der klassischen Fragen des Staatsrechts, die sich aber auch in der
Europäischen Union entsprechend für das Verhältnis Unionsrecht –
Völkerrecht bzw. in Bezug auf die Stellung des Völkerrechts in der
Union stellt. Allerdings kommt im Unionsrecht noch hinzu, dass das
nationale Recht bereits durch das Unionsrecht überlagert wird und
dieses dann auch noch das Völkerrecht zu integrieren hat. Gleichzeitig
sind die Mitgliedstaaten selbstredend nach wie vor auf völkerrechtli-
cher Ebene aktiv und regeln das Verhältnis zwischen Völkerrecht und
nationalem Recht bzw. die Stellung des Völkerrechts im nationalen
Rechtsraum autonom.
Vor diesem Hintergrund geht es im Folgenden nicht darum, (noch-
mals) die Grundlagen der Außenbeziehungen der EU – die bereits früh
relevant wurden1 – zu erörtern. Vielmehr soll – nach einem kurzen
Hinweis auf die Grundsätze der Kompetenzverteilung zwischen der
EU und den Mitgliedstaaten im Bereich der Außenbeziehungen (B) –
spezifisch der Frage nachgegangen werden, welche Implikationen die
EU-Mitgliedschaft auf die Stellung von der EU abgeschlossener völker-
rechtlicher Verträge in den Mitgliedstaaten entfaltet bzw. welche
Vorgaben sich dem Unionsrecht in Bezug auf diese Fragestellung ent-
nehmen lassen (C). Zudem soll kurz auf die Rolle des Art. 4 Abs. 3
EUV für die Mitgliedstaaten im Zusammenhang mit der „Integration“
völkerrechtlicher Verträge in das Unionsrechtssystem eingegangen

1
Vgl. aus der Rechtsprechung etwa EuGH, Fall C-22/70, AETR, 1971 Slg. 271;
EuGH, Gutachten 1/75, 1975 Slg. 1355; EuGH, verb. Fälle C-3/76, C-4/76, C-6/76,
Kramer, 1976 Slg. 1279; EuGH, Gutachten 1/76, Stilllegungsfonds, 1977 Slg. 741. Aus
der frühen Literatur etwa C. Vedder, Die auswärtige Gewalt des Europa der Neun
(1980), m. w. N.
1910 astrid epiney

werden (D), bevor eine kurze zusammenfassende Schlussbemerkung

folgt (E).
Ausgangspunkt der Überlegungen ist dabei die (partielle) Völker­
rechtssubjektivität der EU; sie ist Trägerin völkerrechtlicher Rechte
und Pflichten,2 wie dies auch in Art. 47 EUV verankert ist. Dies
impliziert – neben der treaty making power – die Verbindlichkeit auch
der allgemeinen Regeln des Völkerrechts, worunter insbesondere das
Völkergewohnheitsrecht, aber auch die allgemeinen Rechtsgrundsätze
fallen, für die Union.3 Letzteres erscheint insofern folgerichtig, als sich
die Union in ihrer Eigenschaft als Völkerrechtssubjekt als Mitglied der
internationalen Gemeinschaft versteht und damit allen Regeln des
Völkerrechts verpflichtet ist und sein will. Deren Beachtung aber wird
durch ihre unmittelbare Maßgeblichkeit auch in der bzw. für die Union
am effizientesten sichergestellt. Die Tatsache, dass die Verträge keine
ausdrückliche Bestimmung über die Maßgeblichkeit des allgemei-
nen Völkerrechts enthalten, vermag an dieser Beurteilung nichts zu
ändern, gehen die Verträge doch insgesamt davon aus, dass völker-
rechtliche Verpflichtungen zu beachten sind, wie die Formulierung in
Art. 216 Abs. 2 AEUV in Bezug auf völkerrechtliche Verträge zeigt.
Diese Grundsätze implizieren, dass die einschlägigen völkerrechtli-
chen Regeln ihre Wirkung in der EU ab dem Zeitpunkt ihres völker-
rechtlichen Inkrafttretens entfalten.

B. Ausgangspunkt: zur Vertragsschlusskompetenz der EU

Ausgehend von der inzwischen immer mehr ausdifferenzierten

Rechtsprechung,4 der Erörterung des Problemkreises in der Literatur5

2
S. schon EuGH, Fall C-22/70, AETR, 1971 Slg. 271; EuGH, Gutachten 1/91, EWR
I, 1991 Slg. I-6079; EuGH, Gutachten 1/92, 1992 Slg. I-2821.
3
Ausdrücklich EuGH, Fall C-162/96, Racke, 1998 Slg. I-3655, Rn. 44 ff.; s. auch
schon EuGH, Fall C-286/90, Poulsen, 1992 Slg., I-6019.
4
Vgl. insbesondere EuGH, Gutachten 2/91, ILO, 1993 Slg. I-1061; EuGH, Gutachten
1/94, WTO, 1994 Slg. I-5267; EuGH, Gutachten 2/92, OECD, 1995 Slg. I-521; EuGH,
Gutachten 2/00, Protokoll von Cartagena, 2001 Slg. I-9713; EuGH, Fall C-466/98, open
skies-Abkommen, 2002 Slg. I-9427 ff.
5
Vgl. nur A. Epiney / D. Gross, Zur Abgrenzung der Außenkompetenzen von
Gemeinschaft und Mitgliedstaaten im Umweltbereich, Jahrbuch des Umwelt- und
Technikrechts 27, 28 ff. (2004) und die dort angegebene Literatur (28, Fn. 2); aus der
jüngeren Literatur etwa T. Georgopoulos, What kind of treaty-making power for the
EU?, European Law Reporter 190 ff. (2005); M. Klamert / N. Maydell, Rechtsfragen der
impliziten Außenkompetenz der EG illustriert am Beispiel der Dienstleistungsrichtlinie
und der Minimum Platform on Investment, Europarecht 589 ff. (2008); B. van Vooren,
 zu den implikationen der eu-mitgliedschaft1911

sowie der nunmehr durch den Vertrag von Lissabon erfolgten Veran­
kerung der Grundsätze der Kompetenzverteilung im Außenbereich im
Vertrag (Art. 3 Abs. 2 AEUV, Art. 205 ff. AEUV, insbesondere Art. 216
AEUV) können die Prinzipien der Kompetenzverteilung zwischen der
Union und ihren Mitgliedstaaten im Bereich der Außenbeziehungen
durch die nachfolgenden Punkte, die einerseits die grundsätzliche
Existenz einer Unionskompetenz (I), andererseits ihren ausschließli-
chen Charakter betreffen (II), zusammengefasst werden. Hingewiesen
sei darüber hinaus noch auf das Vertragsschlussverfahren (III) und die
Durchführung völkerrechtlicher Verträge (IV).

I. Zum Bestehen einer Unionskompetenz

Die grundsätzliche Existenz einer Kompetenz der EU zum Abschluss
völkerrechtlicher Verträge ergibt sich einerseits aus den wenigen
ausdrücklichen vertraglichen Grundlagen (wobei Art. 207 AEUV für
Zoll- und Handelsabkommen und Art. 217 AEUV für Assoziie­
rungsabkommen besondere Bedeutung zukommt),6 andererseits aus
den ursprünglich durch die sog. AETR-Rechtsprechung7 entwickelten
zunächst impliziten Kompetenzzuweisungen, die heute in Art. 216
Abs. 1 AEUV ausdrücklich verankert sind.
Der Vertrag von Lissabon differenziert die zuletzt genannte Kategorie
durch verschiedene Untergruppen: Nach Art. 216 Abs. 1 AEUV besteht
eine Außenkompetenz der Union, wenn der Abschluss des betreffen-
den völkerrechtlichen Vertrages zur Verwirklichung einer der
Zielsetzungen der Verträge erforderlich ist (erste Alternative), in einem
verbindlichen Rechtsakt der Union vorgesehen ist (zweite Alternative)
oder gemeinsame Vorschriften beeinträchtigen (dritte Alternative)
oder deren Anwendungsbereich ändern könnte (vierte Alternative).
Vieles spricht dafür, dass auf diese Weise die Rechtsprechung des
EuGH kodifiziert werden sollte, wobei aber diesbezüglich durchaus
noch Fragen offen bleiben, die in der Zukunft zu klären sein werden:
So fragt es sich insbesondere, ob die erste Alternative der impliziten

EU-EC External Competence after the Small Arms Judgment, European Foreign
Affairs Review 7 ff. (2009).
6
Die Verträge enthalten aber auch noch weitere ausdrückliche Außenkom­
petenzen, so etwa in Art. 79 AEUV (Einwanderung) oder in Art. 209 AEUV
(Entwicklungszusammenarbeit).
7
EuGH, Fall C-22/70, AETR, 1971 Slg. 263, sowie aus der Folgerechtsprechung in
erster Linie EuGH, Gutachten 1/94, WTO, 1994 Slg. I-5267.
1912 astrid epiney

Vertragsschlusskompetenzen weiter geht als die bisherige, sich bereits

aus dem Urteil Stilllegungsfonds8 ergebende grundsätzliche Parallelität
von Innen- und Außenkompetenzen,9 eine Parallelität, die in jüngerer
Zeit etwa durch das Urteil des EuGH im Fall C-431/0510 bestätigt
wurde: Hier hielt der Gerichtshof u.a. fest, eine Außenkompetenz
der Union bestehe, soweit im Inneren in dem betreffenden Bereich
bereits Rechtsvorschriften erlassen wurden oder aus Anlass des
Abkommensabschlusses erlassen werden.11 Denn zur Verwirklichung
einer der Zielsetzungen der Verträge erforderlich (im Sinne des
Art. 216 Abs. 1 AEUV) kann ein völkerrechtlicher Vertrag grundsätz-
lich auch dann sein, wenn der Union im Innern für die Regelung des
betreffenden Gebiets keine Kompetenz zukommt; allerdings impli-
zierte eine solche, durch den Wortlaut des Art. 216 Abs. 1 AEUV
zunächst nahegelegte Parallelität von Außenkompetenzen und
Vertragszielen (nicht mehr Innenkompetenzen) angesichts der doch
sehr weitgehenden Vertragsziele eine erhebliche Erweiterung der
Unionsaußenkom­petenzen und wäre wohl auch insofern systemwid-
rig, als damit das auch in Art. 5 Abs. 2 EUV verankerte Prinzip der
begrenzten Einzelermächtigung aus den Angeln gehoben würde. Die
zweite Alternative (ermächtigender Sekundärrechtsakt) lehnt sich an
die bisherige Rechtsprechung an;12 gleiches gilt für die dritte und vierte
Alternative.13 Damit ist die Union auch auf der Grundlage des Vertrages
von Lissabon zumindest in all denjenigen Bereichen zum Abschluss
völkerrechtlicher Verträge befugt, in denen ihr im Innenverhältnis
eine Rechtsetzungskompetenz zusteht, so dass von einer Parallelität
zwischen Innen- und Außenkompetenzen auszugehen ist.

EuGH, Gutachten 1/76, Stilllegungsfonds, 1977 Slg. 741.

    8

Ausdrücklich dann auch EuGH, Gutachten 2/91, ILO, 1993 Slg. I-1061; zu
    9

dieser Parallelität S. Breier, Die völkerrechtlichen Vertragsschlusskompetenzen der

Europäischen Gemeinschaft und ihrer Mitgliedstaaten im Bereich des Umweltschutzes,
EuR 340, 349 (1993). Zur Entwicklung der Rechtsprechung auf diesem Gebiet allge-
mein N. Emiliou, Towards a clearer demarcation line? The division of external rela-
tions power between the Community and Member States, ELR 76 ff. (1994). Zur dog-
matischen Begründung m. w. N. A. Ott, Gatt und WTO im Gemeinschaftsrecht, 192 f.
(1997).
10
EuGH, Fall C-431/05, Merck Genéricos, 2007 Slg. I-7001.
11
S. insoweit auch EuGH, Gutachten 1/03, Lugano, 2006 Slg. I-1145, Rn. 114.
12
EuGH, Gutachten 1/94, WTO, 1994 Slg. I-5267, Rn. 95; s. auch EuGH, Gutachten
2/92, OECD, 1995 Slg. I-521, Rn. 33.
13
Zu dieser noch sogleich B.II. im Zusammenhang mit der Ausschließlichkeit der
Kompetenzen.
 zu den implikationen der eu-mitgliedschaft1913

II. Zur Ausschließlichkeit der Vertragsschlusskompetenzen der Union

Ausschließlicher Charakter – in dem Sinn, dass nur die Union unter
Ausschluss der Mitgliedstaaten völkerrechtliche Verträge abschließen
kann – kommt den impliziten Außenkompetenzen der Union nach der
Rechtsprechung unter der Voraussetzung zu, dass die Union entweder
von ihren Innenkompetenzen bereits erschöpfend Gebrauch gemacht
hat oder die Materie sinnvoll (sozusagen aus der Natur der Sache
heraus) nur durch eine externe Regelung erfasst werden kann bzw.
die Zielsetzungen der internen Regelungsbefugnis nur dann effektiv
umgesetzt werden können, wenn eine entsprechende Außenkompetenz
besteht.14 Weiter ist nach der Rechtsprechung des EuGH eine aus-
schließliche Kompetenz der Union dann anzunehmen, wenn der
Abschluss eines Vertrages durch die Mitgliedstaaten in einem bestimm-
ten Bereich das Beeinträchtigungsverbot des Art. 4 Abs. 3 EUV ver-
letzt.15 Der Vertrag von Lissabon greift diese Rechtsprechung in Art. 3
Abs. 2 AEUV auf.
Die Existenz einer solchen ausschließlichen Unionskompetenz ent-
faltet auch insofern eine „Sperrwirkung“, als die Mitgliedstaaten bei
Vorliegen der genannten Voraussetzungen nicht (mehr) zum Abschluss
entsprechender völkerrechtlicher Verträge befugt sind. Dies impliziert
dann auch, dass in denjenigen Fällen, in denen keine ausschließli-
che Außenkompetenz der Union zum Abschluss eines bestimmten

14
Vgl. EuGH, Gutachten 1/94, WTO, 1994 Slg. I-5267, insbesondere Rn. 85 f., 99 f.;
s. auch EuGH, Gutachten 2/92, OECD, 1995 Slg. I-521, Rn. 31 f. Zur Rechtsprechung
C. Kaddous, Le droit des relations extérieures dans la jurisprudence de la Cour de
justice des Communautés européennes, 248 ff. (1998); E. Klein / F. Kimms, Die
Kompetenz der Europäischen Gemeinschaft zum Abschluss umweltschutzrelevan-
ter Verträge, Umwelt- und Technikrecht 53, 69 f. (1996); speziell zum WTO-Gutachten
M. Hilf, Die EG-Außenkompetenzen in Grenzen. Das Gutachten des EuGH zur
Welthandelsorganisation, Europäische Zeitschrift für Wirtschaftsrecht 7 ff. (1995);
R. Geiger, Vertragsschlusskompetenzen der Europäischen Gemeinschaft und aus­
wärtige Gewalt der Mitgliedstaaten, JuristenZeitung 973 ff. (1995). S. aus der
Rechtsprechung EuGH, Fall C-467/98, Kommission v. Dänemark, 2002 Slg. I-9519,
open skies-Abkommen, wo der EuGH die bislang entwickelten Grundsätze auf den
Bereich des Luftverkehrs (entsprechende Abkommen einiger Mitgliedstaaten mit den
USA) anwendete; vgl. im Übrigen EuGH, Gutachten C-1/08 v. 30.11.2009, GATS: Hier
ging es um die Reichweite der ausschließlichen Kompetenz der Union im Bereich der
Außenhandelspolitik (Art. 207 AEUV), falls auch noch andere Politikbereiche (in casu
die Verkehrspolitik) betroffen sind: In einem solchen Fall seien die Rechtsgrundlagen
in dem betreffenden Politikbereich ebenfalls heranzuziehen, was in der Regel einer
Ausschließlichkeit der Unionskompetenz entgegenstehen werde (es sei denn, die
Voraussetzungen des Art. 3 Abs. 2 AEUV seien erfüllt).
15
Vgl. Gutachten 2/91, ILO, 1993 Slg. I-1061, Rn. 13 ff.
1914 astrid epiney

Vertrages besteht, die Mitgliedstaaten als Vertragspartner zu beteili-

gen sind, so dass hier nur gemischte Verträge in Betracht kommen,16
was aber nichts an der Existenz der Außenkompetenzen der Union
ändert.

III. Das Verfahren

Das Vertragsschlussverfahren ergibt sich aus Art. 218 AEUV. Auf
der Grundlage einer Ermächtigung des Rates kommt der Kommis­
sion bei der Verhandlungsführung eine entscheidende Rolle zu. Die
definitive Entscheidung zum Abschluss des Abkommens obliegt dem
Rat bzw. dem Parlament, wobei die Befugnisse des Parlaments durch
den Vertrag von Lissabon eine beachtliche Ausweitung erfahren
haben.17

IV. Zur Durchführung völkerrechtlicher Verträge der Union

Da durch den Abschluss völkerrechtlicher Verträge die Kompetenz­
verteilung innerhalb der Union nicht beeinträchtigt werden darf,
bestimmt sich die Zuständigkeit zum Erlass ggf. erforderlicher
„Durchführungsmaßnahmen“ zu völkerrechtlichen Verträgen nach
den einschlägigen Regeln über die Kompetenzverteilung im Binnen­
bereich.18 Der Abschluss eines völkerrechtlichen Vertrages durch
die EU entfaltet somit keine Implikationen für die interne
Kompetenzverteilung zwischen der Union und ihren Mitgliedstaaten.19

16
Ausdrücklich D. O’Keeffe, Exclusive, Concurrent and Shared Competence, in:
A. Dashwood / C. Hillion (Hrsg.), The General Law of E.C. External Relations, 179, 193
(2000). Zur Problematik der gemischten Abkommen am Beispiel des Klimaschutzes
F. Jacquemont, The EU and Climate Change: Is a Clarification of EU Legal Competence
possible?, Environmental Law Network International 30 ff. (1/2001).
17
Zu den diesbezüglichen Modifikationen des Vertrages von Lissabon etwa E. Brok,
Die neue Macht des Europäischen Parlaments nach “Lissabon“ im Bereich der gemein-
samen Handelspolitik, integration 209 ff. (2010); A. Dimopoulos, The Effects of the
Lisbon Treaty on the Principles and Objectives of the Common Commercial Policy,
European Foreign Affairs Review 153 ff. (2010).
18
Vgl. etwa EuGH, Gutachten 1/76, Stilllegungsfonds, 1977 Slg. 741, Rn. 10. Vgl.
hierzu auch K. Stein, Der gemischte Vertrag im Recht der Außenbeziehungen der
EWG, 174 (1976); C.-E. Held, Les accords internationaux conclus par la Communauté
économique européenne, 193 (1977); Vedder (Fn. 1), 226; J. Heliskoski, Mixed
Agreements as a Technique for Organizing the International Relations of the European
Community and its Member States, 101 ff. (2001).
19
Vgl. hierzu, m. w. N., C. Walter, Internationalisierung des deutschen und
europäischen Verwaltungsverfahrens- und Verwaltungsprozessrechts–am Beispiel der
Aarhus-Konvention, EuR 302, 311 f. (2005).
 zu den implikationen der eu-mitgliedschaft1915

C. Unionsrechtliche Vorgaben für die Anwendung des

Völkerrechts in den Mitgliedstaaten

I. Völkerrechtliche Abkommen als integrierende

Bestandteile des Unionsrechts
Auf der Grundlage von Art. 216 Abs. 2 AEUV20 geht der EuGH in
ständiger Rechtsprechung davon aus, dass die von der Union
abgeschlossenen völkerrechtlichen Verträge einen „integrierenden
Bestandteil“ der Unionsrechtsordnung bilden21 und ihnen ein unions-
rechtlicher Charakter zukomme.22 Der EuGH geht – wie bereits ein-
gangs erwähnt23 – zudem davon aus, dass auch die für die Union
verbindlichen Regeln des allgemeinen Völkerrechts – also insbeson-
dere das Völkergewohnheitsrecht – „Bestandteile der Rechtsordnung“
der Union darstellen.24 Im Folgenden geht es darum, die genaue recht-
liche Tragweite dieser Qualifizierung völkerrechtlicher Verträge als
„integrierende Bestandteile“ des Unionsrechts zu eruieren, wobei
einerseits auf die Problematik der gemischten Abkommen (1), ande-
rerseits auf die genaue Bedeutung bzw. Implikationen dieser
Charakterisierung (2) einzugehen ist.

1. Zu den gemischten Abkommen

Gemischte Abkommen werfen schon deshalb besondere Probleme
auf, weil sie (zumindest a priori) einerseits Bestimmungen, die in die
Kompetenz der Union fallen, andererseits aber auch solche, die in der-
jenigen der Mitgliedstaaten liegen, enthalten, so dass sich die Frage
stellt, ob denn der gesamte Vertrag als „integrierender Bestandteil“ des
Unionsrechts anzusehen ist, mit allen Konsequenzen, die dies mit sich

20
 Wonach die von der Union geschlossenen Abkommen die Unionsorgane und
die Mitgliedstaaten binden.
21
EuGH, Fall C-181/73, Haegemann, 1974 Slg. 449, Rn. 2/6; EuGH, Fall C-104/81,
Kupferberg, 1982 Slg. 3641, Rn. 13; EuGH, Fall C-12/86, Demirel, 1987 Slg. 3641,
Rn. 7; EuGH, Fall C-192/89, Sevince, 1990 Slg. I-3461, Rn. 8. Hierzu bereits A. Epiney,
Zur Stellung des Völkerrechts in der EU. Zugleich Besprechung von EuGH, EuZW
1998, 572–Hèrmes und EuZW 1998, 694–Racke, EuZW 5 ff. (1999); Ott (Fn. 9), 68 ff.;
S. Hobe / P. Müller-Sartori, Rechtsfragen der Einbindung der EG/EU in das Völkerrecht,
Juristische Schulung 8 ff. (2002).
22
So (“gemeinschaftsrechtlicher Charakter“) EuGH, Fall C-104/81, Kupferberg,
1982 Slg. 3641, Rn. 14.
23
 Oben A.
24
EuGH, Fall C-162/96, Racke, 1998 Slg. I-3655, Rn. 44 ff.; s. auch schon EuGH,
Fall C-286/90, Poulsen, 1992 Slg. I-6019.
1916 astrid epiney

bringt,25 oder ob dies nur für den Teil eines gemischten Abkommens
gilt, der in der Kompetenz der EU liegt.
Zwar ist es aus völkerrechtlicher Sicht unbestritten, dass die Union
(ebenso wie die Mitgliedstaaten) auch bei gemischten Abkommen
grundsätzlich (es sei denn, es ergebe sich klar etwas anderes aus
dem entsprechenden Vertrag) an den gesamten Vertrag gebunden ist,
kann doch die (im Übrigen hoch komplexe) Kompetenzverteilung
innerhalb der Union Drittstaaten nicht entgegengehalten werden.26
Allerdings sagt das Völkerrecht nichts darüber aus, auf welche Weise
die Einhaltung dieser (völkerrechtlichen) Verpflichtungen sicherge-
stellt werden muss, so dass aus der völkerrechtlichen Verbindlichkeit
aus unionsrechtlicher Sicht nicht zwingend die Einordnung des gesam-
ten Vertrages als „integrierender Bestandteil“ des Unionsrechts folgt.
Die besseren Argumente sprechen denn auch für einen differenzier-
ten Ansatz in dem Sinn, dass gemischte Abkommen nur insoweit inte-
grierende Bestandteile des Unionsrechts sind, als es um Abkommensteile
geht, die von den Außenkompetenzen der Union gedeckt sind:27 Es
dürfte nämlich den Grundsätzen der Kompetenzverteilung zwischen
Union und Mitgliedstaaten nicht Rechnung tragen, eine „unionsrecht-
liche“ Wirkung auch bei denjenigen Bestimmungen völkerrechtlicher
Verträge anzunehmen, die in der Kompetenz der Mitgliedstaaten
liegen. Denn auf diese Weise führte der Abschluss gemischter
völkerrechtlicher Verträge letztlich zu einer Art Modifikation der pri-
märrechtlich vorgesehenen Kompetenzverteilung zwischen der Union
und ihren Mitgliedstaaten,28 obliegt es doch den Mitgliedstaaten zu
bestimmen, welche Wirkungen in ihrer Zuständigkeit liegende völker-
rechtliche Verträge im innerstaatlichen Bereich entfalten. Damit haben
die (nur) in die Kompetenz der Mitgliedstaaten fallenden vertraglichen
Bestimmungen keinen Anteil an dem besonderen Charakter des
Unionsrechts,29 so dass sich ihre Stellung und ihre Wirkungen im
innerstaatlichen Raum nach den jeweils einschlägigen Grundsätzen
des nationalen (Verfassungs-) Rechts richtet.

25
Hierzu unten C.I.2.
26
Vgl. etwa M. Björklund, Responsibility in the EC for Mixed Agreements–Should
Non-Member Parties care?, 70 Nordic Journal of International Law 373 ff. (2001); s.
auch GA Jacobs, EuGH, Fall C-316/91, EP vs. Kommission, 1994 Slg. 625.
27
Vgl. insoweit auch schon Epiney (Fn. 21), 7.
28
Vgl. ebenso etwa Ott (Fn. 9), 212 ff.; Hobe / Müller-Sartori (Fn. 21), 12.
29
Vgl. hierzu auch noch sogleich unten C.I.2.
 zu den implikationen der eu-mitgliedschaft1917

Allerdings begegnet der hier vertretene „differenzierte“ Ansatz

insofern gewissen praktischen Schwierigkeiten, als nicht immer klar
sein wird, welche Bestimmungen denn nun (noch) in die Kompetenz
der Union fallen und bei welchen dies nicht (mehr) der Fall ist;30
derartige „Praktikabilitätserwägungen“ vermögen jedoch nicht die
skizzierten grundsätzlichen Bedenken gegen die Qualifizierung aller
Teile aller gemischten Verträge als integrierende Bestandteile des
Unionsrechts zu entkräften. Gegen den hier vertretenen Ansatz
kann im Übrigen jedenfalls nicht eingewandt werden, der EuGH
bezeichne in der Regel gemischte Abkommen in toto und ohne
nach den Kompetenzbereichen zu differenzieren als integrierende
Bestandteile der Unionsrechtsordnung.31 Denn einmal prüft der
EuGH dann im Zusammenhang mit seiner Zuständigkeit zur
Auslegung von Bestimmungen gemischter Abkommen, ob diese in
die Kompetenz der Union fallen,32 und zum anderen impliziert diese
relativ allgemeine Aussage nicht zwingend auch eine Stellungnahme in
Bezug auf die genauen Rechtswirkungen solcher gemischter Verträge.
Sodann ist darauf hinzuweisen, dass auch in den Fällen einer beim
Vertragsabschluss nur geteilten Kompetenz natürlich eine
Unionskompetenz nach den dargelegten Grundsätzen33 anzunehmen
ist, so dass nur diejenigen Bestimmungen gemischter Verträge als
nicht in die Kompetenz der Union fallend angesehen werden können,
für deren Vereinbarung der Union gar keine – also weder eine
geteilte noch eine parallele – Kompetenz zukommt. Auch die jüngere
Rechtsprechung spricht für den hier vertretenen Ansatz: So präzi-
sierte der EuGH im Fall C-431/05,34 anknüpfend an seine bisherige
Rechtsprechung,35 dass im Falle von gemischten Abkommen – wie
dem TRIPS-Übereinkommen – abkommensrechtliche Maßnahmen
bzw. Bestimmungen nur insoweit dem Unionsrecht unterliegen, als
es sich um Bereiche handelt, die in die (Außen-) Kompetenz der EU

30
Vgl. D. Thieme, European Community External Relations in the Field of the
Environment, European Energy and Environmental Law Review 252, 254 (2001).
31
Vgl. etwa die Formulierung in EuGH, Fall C-181/73, Haegemann, 1974 Slg. 449,
Rn. 11/16. Kritisch zum Haegemann- und den Folgeurteilen P. Gasparon, The
Transposition of the Principle of Member State Liability into the Context of External
Relations, European Journal of International Law 605, 610 (1999).
32
Vgl. z.B. EuGH, Fall C-53/96, Hermès, 1998 Slg. I-3603.
33
 Oben B.I., II.
34
EuGH, Fall C-431/05, Merck Genéricos, 2007 Slg. I-7001.
35
Vgl. insbesondere EuGH, Fall C-53/96, Hermès, 1998 Slg. I-3603; EuGH, verb.
Fälle C-300/98, C-392/98, Dior, 2000 Slg. I-11307.
1918 astrid epiney

fallen. Vieles dürfte dafür sprechen, dass dies so zu verstehen ist,

dass bei gemischten Abkommen nur diejenigen Bestandteile der
Abkommen als integrierende Bestandteile des Unionsrechts anzuse-
hen sind, die in die Kompetenz der Union fallen und daher nur in
Bezug auf diese die „Attribute“ des Unionsrechts – wie insbesondere
Vorrang und Reichweite der unmittelbaren Anwendbarkeit36 – im
Verhältnis zu den Mitgliedstaaten zum Zuge kommen.

2. Zu den Implikationen der Charakterisierung völkerrechtlicher

Verträge als „integrierende Bestandteile“ des Unionsrechts
Die Charakterisierung völkerrechtlicher Verträge als „integrierende
Bestandteile“ des Unionsrechts impliziert jedenfalls, dass die
Bestimmungen Teile des positiven Rechts in der Union sind. Dabei gel-
ten sie aber nicht als „Unionsrecht“, sondern als Völkerrecht. Denn die
völkerrechtlichen Verträge werden nach der Rechtsprechung bereits
mit ihrem Inkrafttreten auf völkerrechtlicher Ebene zu integrierenden
Bestandteilen des Unionsrechts37 und unterliegen keinem irgendwie
gearteten Transformationsakt, so dass der Schluss nahe liegt, dass
die Bestimmungen keinem inhaltlichen Wandel unterliegen und auch
ihre Rechtsnatur als völkerrechtliche Instrumente beibehalten.38 Auch
die bei der Auslegung völkerrechtlicher Verträge zur Anwendung
kommenden Grundsätze sprechen für diesen Ansatz: In völkerrechtli-
chen Verträgen enthaltene Bestimmungen, die unionsrechtlichen
Vorschriften entsprechen, sind nämlich nicht zwingend ebenso wie im
Unionsrecht auszulegen, sondern ihre Auslegung richtet sich nach völ-
kerrechtlichen Maßstäben.39

36
Hierzu noch sogleich unten C.I.2.
37
Vgl hierzu EuGH, Fall C-181/73, Haegemann, 1974 Slg. 449, Rn. 11/16; EuGH,
Fall C-12/86, Demirel, 1987 Slg. 3641, Rn. 7; EuGH, Fall C-192/89, Sevince, 1990 Slg.
I-3461, Rn. 8.
38
Ebenso C. Eberle, Die EG als Partei internationaler Umweltschutzübereinkommen:
Fragen des Abschlusses von Übereinkommen und deren Implementierung, 224 ff.
(2001); s. auch A. Peters, The Position of International Law within the European
Community Legal Order, German Yearbook of International Law 9, 28 ff. (1997);
s. auch schon Epiney (Fn. 21), 6.
39
Aus der Rspr. grundlegend EuGH, Fall C-270/80, Polydor, 1982 Slg. 329, Rn. 18 ff.
Vgl. ausführlich zur Auslegung von durch die Union abgeschlossenen völkerrechtli-
chen Verträgen m. w. N. A. Epiney / A. Felder, Europäischer Wirtschaftsraum
und Europäische Gemeinschaft: Parallelen und Divergenzen in Rechtsordnung und
Auslegung, Zeitschrift für Vergleichende Rechtswissenschaft 425 ff. (2001); R. Bieber,
Die Bedeutung der Rechtsprechung des Gerichtshofs der Europäischen Union für
die Auslegung völkerrechtlicher Verträge, in: A. Epiney / B. Metz / R. Mosters (Hrsg.),
 zu den implikationen der eu-mitgliedschaft1919

Allerdings impliziert die Verbindlichkeit der völkerrechtlichen

Abkommen für die Unionsorgane und die Mitgliedstaaten, dass ihnen
gewisse „Attribute“ des Unionsrechts – wie insbesondere der Vorrang
im Verhältnis zu mitgliedstaatlichem Recht – ebenfalls zukommen. Als
Bestandteile der Unionsrechtsordnung gelten sie somit zwar als
Völkerrecht, was insbesondere Rückwirkungen auf die Auslegung der
Abkommen entfaltet, die sich nach völkerrechtlichen Regeln richtet.
Andererseits aber sind die Abkommen eben Bestandteil der
Unionsrechtsordnung, so dass sie – wenn auch als Völkerrecht und
unter Beachtung der völkerrechtlichen Auslegungsmethoden – für die
Mitgliedstaaten und die Organe in gleicher Weise wie (sonstige) uni-
onsrechtliche Vorschriften verbindlich sind. Dies impliziert insbeson-
dere die Maßgeblichkeit der unionsrechtlichen Grundsätze des
Vorrangs des Unionsrechts und des Grundsatzes der (Möglichkeit der)
unmittelbaren Wirkung. Insoweit rechtfertigt sich denn auch die
Charakterisierung der völkerrechtlichen Normen als Teil des
Unionsrechts. Im Einzelnen ist hier insbesondere auf folgende
Implikationen dieser Einbettung der völkerrechtlichen Abkommen in
das Unionsrecht hinzuweisen:
– Der Vorrang des Unionsrechts kommt grundsätzlich40 auch für die
von der Union abgeschlossenen und für sie verbindlichen Verträge
sowie für die allgemeinen Grundsätze des Völkerrechts (insbeson-
dere das Völkergewohnheitsrecht) zum Zuge. Damit haben die Mit-
gliedstaaten also dem für die Union verbindlichen Völkerrecht
ebenso Vorrang einzuräumen wie dem EU-Primär- oder Sekundär-
recht. Dies impliziert, dass innerstaatliches Recht, das im Wider-
spruch zu für die Union verbindlichen völkerrechtlichen Vorgaben
steht, nicht angewandt werden darf, dies ungeachtet der unmittelba-
ren Wirkung der völkerrechtlichen Bestimmungen, da es auch im
Falle der Verneinung der unmittelbaren Wirkung einer Bestimmung
möglich ist, dass ein Widerspruch festgestellt werden kann.41

Das Personenfreizügigkeitsabkommen Schweiz–EU: Auslegung und Anwendung in

der Praxis / L’accord sur la libre circulation des personnes Suisse–UE: interprétation
et application dans la pratique, 1 ff. (2011).
40
Zu den gemischten Verträgen bereits oben C.I.1.
41
Vgl. in diesem Zusammenhang in Bezug auf die Wirkung von Richtlinien­
bestimmungen EuGH, Fall C-144/04, Mangold, 2005 Slg. I-9981, wo der EuGH offen-
bar unabhängig von einer unmittelbaren Wirkung der Richtlinienbestimmung – die
schon deshalb nicht in Frage kam, weil die Umsetzungsfrist noch nicht abgelaufen
1920 astrid epiney

– Auch die Frage nach der unmittelbaren Geltung durch die Union
abgeschlossener völkerrechtlicher Verträge in den Mitgliedstaaten
richtet sich nach den unionsrechtlichen Vorgaben, so dass die Mit-
gliedstaaten verpflichtet sind, die Verträge ab ihrem Inkrafttreten
auf völkerrechtlicher Ebene auch im innerstaatlichen Bereich als
geltendes Recht zu behandeln, unabhängig davon, ob ansonsten
nach den einschlägigen verfassungsrechtlichen Vorgaben zusätzli-
che Anforderungen zu erfüllen sind. Die Implikationen dieses
Grundsatzes für Staaten mit dualistischer Tradition dürften nicht zu
unterschätzen sein.
– Eine andere Frage in diesem Zusammenhang geht dahin, ob es
eine solche unmittelbare Geltung in den Mitgliedstaaten diesen
auch verwehrt, zumindest gewisse Bestimmungen völkerrechtlicher
Verträge, die von der EU abgeschlossen wurden, in nationales Recht
„umzusetzen“ oder zu transformieren, so wie dies bei Verordnun-
gen, die nach Art. 288 AEUV unmittelbar in jedem Mitgliedstaat
gelten, nach der Rechtsprechung des EuGH der Fall ist.42 Diese Frage
ist durch den EuGH noch nicht entschieden worden, wie im Übri-
gen auch sonst die aus der Charakterisierung völkerrechtlicher Ver-
träge der EU als integrierende Bestandteile des Unionsrechts
folgende unmittelbare Geltung dieser Abkommen in den Mitglied-
staaten weder in der Rechtsprechung noch in der Literatur bislang
(soweit ersichtlich) wirklich diskutiert wurde. Im Ergebnis dürfte
diese Frage jedoch zu verneinen sein: Denn völkerrechtliche
Verträge müssen sehr häufig noch durch nationale Maßnahmen
implementiert werden, und die Frage, ob die Union oder die Mit-
gliedstaaten hierfür zuständig sind, richtet sich nach der Kompe-
tenzverteilung im Binnenbereich. Vor diesem Hintergrund dürfte
die unmittelbare Geltung der völkerrechtlichen Verträge auch in
den Mitgliedstaaten im Anschluss an ihre Verbindlichkeit für die
EU auf völkerrechtlicher Ebene kein grundsätzliches Implementie-
rungsverbot in den Mitgliedstaaten in dem Sinn implizieren,
dass die Mitgliedstaaten abkommensrechtliche Bestimmungen im
nationalen Recht nicht wiederholen dürften, würde doch ansonsten
die regelmäßig notwendige innerstaatliche Durchführung völker-
rechtlicher Verträge sehr erschwert. Angesichts der Charakteristika

war – davon ausging, dass mit einer Richtlinienbestimmung unvereinbares nationales

Recht nicht angewandt werden dürfe.
42
Vgl. EuGH, Fall C-34/73, Variola, 1973 Slg. 981.
 zu den implikationen der eu-mitgliedschaft1921

völkerrechtlicher Verträge rechtfertigt es sich daher nicht, das spezi-

fische „Umsetzungsverbot“ von Verordnungen auf völkerrechtliche
Verträge zu übertragen. Auswirkungen entfaltet die unmittelbare
Geltung aber (abgesehen von der sogleich zu erläuternden Möglich-
keit der unmittelbaren Wirkung) etwa auf der Ebene der Auslegung,
sind sie doch von den Mitgliedstaaten als verbindliches Recht insbe-
sondere bei der Auslegung und Anwendung ihres nationalen Rechts
zu beachten.
– Schließlich ist auf die grundsätzliche Möglichkeit der unmittelba-
ren Wirkung völkervertragsrechtlicher Bestimmungen – im Sinne
der Möglichkeit Einzelner, sich auf völkervertragsrechtliche Bestim-
mungen in der EU zu berufen – hinzuweisen, die sich ebenfalls
nach den einschlägigen unionsrechtlichen Grundsätzen richtet: Der
Umstand, dass die Verträge Bestandteil der Unionsrechtsordnung
sind, impliziert die grundsätzliche Möglichkeit der unmittelbaren
Wirkung vertraglicher Bestimmungen,43 können doch unionsrecht-
liche Normen unmittelbar wirksam sein. Allerdings gilt das Völker-
vertragsrecht als solches und verliert nicht seinen völkerrechtlichen
Charakter, so dass bei der Frage, unter welchen Voraussetzungen
nun einer Bestimmung unmittelbare Wirkung zukommt, nicht
„automatisch“ die in dieser Hinsicht entwickelten unionsrechtlichen
Grundsätze herangezogen werden können, sondern auf die Beson-
derheiten des (jeweiligen) Völkervertragsrechts abzustellen ist.44
Insgesamt werden damit durch die Stellung des Völkerrechts als
integrierender Bestandteil der Unionsrechtsordnung die ansonsten
hier einschlägigen (nationalen) verfassungsrechtlichen Grundsätze
über Rang und Stellung des Völkerrechts – die ja sehr verschieden aus-
gestaltet sind – in dem Maß verdrängt, in dem die entsprechenden

43
 Und auch von Erlassen der durch völkerrechtliche Verträge eingesetzten Organe,
vgl. EuGH, Fall C-192/89, Sevince, 1990 Slg. I-3461; EuGH, Fall C-237/91, Kus, 1992
Slg. I-6781.
44
Vgl. aus der Rspr. EuGH, Fall C-104/81, Kupferberg, 1982 Slg. 2641; EuGH, Fall
C-12/86, Demirel, 1987 Slg. 3641; EuGH, Fall C-162/96, Racke, 1998 Slg. I-3655;
EuGH, Fall C-63/99, Gloszczuk, 2001 Slg. I-6369, Rn. 38; EuGH, Fall C-235/99,
Kondova, 2001 Slg. I-6427, Rn. 33. Aus der Literatur N. Neuwahl, Individuals and the
GATT: Direct Effect and Indirect Effects of the General Agreement of Tariffs and Trade
in Community Law, in: N. Emiliou / D. O’Keeffe (Hrsg.), The European Union and
World Trade Law, 313, 317 ff. (1996); E. Klein, Zur Auslegung von völkerrechtlichen
Verträgen der EG mit Drittstaaten, in: A. Epiney / F. Rivière (Hrsg.), Auslegung und
Anwendung von “Integrationsverträgen“ / Interprétation et application des “traités
d’intégration“, 1, 14 f. (2006).
1922 astrid epiney

Verträge bzw. vertraglichen Bestimmungen integrierender Bestandteil

des Unionsrechts sind.45 Für die übrigen völkervertraglichen Bestim­
mungen bleiben in den Mitgliedstaaten hingegen grundsätzlich die
„ordentlichen“ verfassungsrechtlichen Vorgaben anwendbar,46 so dass
in den Mitgliedstaaten letztlich zwei Kategorien völkervertragsrechtli-
cher Bestimmungen anzuwenden sind:
– Die von der Union abgeschlossenen Verträge (abgesehen von den
Besonderheiten in Bezug auf gemischte Verträge) sind als integrie-
rende Bestandteile der in der Union geltenden Rechtsordnung nach
den unionsrechtlichen Vorgaben im innerstaatlichen Bereich anzu-
wenden, wobei insbesondere der Vorrang vor nationalem Recht jeg-
licher Stufe, die unmittelbare Geltung und Wirkung sowie die
gerichtliche Kontrolle47 von Bedeutung sind.
– Die sonstigen völkervertraglichen Bestimmungen sind nach den
innerstaatlichen, in der Regel verfassungsrechtlichen Vorgaben
anzuwenden. Diese können sich durchaus von den unionsrechtli-
chen Vorgaben wesentlich unterscheiden.
Diese „Dualität“ dürfte jedoch zu ggf. schwer lösbaren Problemen füh-
ren. Zunächst ist auf die Frage nach der Abgrenzung beider Kategorien
völkervertragsrechtlicher Bestimmungen hinzuweisen: Diese ist zwar
bei Verträgen, die nur von den Mitgliedstaaten abgeschlossen wur-
den, einfach zu bewerkstelligen; bei gemischten Verträgen hingegen,
die sowohl von der Union als auch von den Mitgliedstaaten abge-
schlossen wurden, kommt es – wie dargelegt48 – darauf an, ob der
Union für die entsprechende vertragliche Bestimmung eine Kompetenz
zukommt, eine mitunter sehr schwierig zu beantwortende Frage, die
regelmäßig umstritten sein wird, ganz abgesehen davon, dass sich die
Kompetenzen der EU im Laufe der Zeit in Anwendung der Grundsätze
des Art. 216 Abs. 1 AEUV49 auch erweitern können. Damit werden die
Rechtswirkungen einer Reihe völkervertragsrechtlicher Bestimmungen
in zahlreichen Mitgliedstaaten unklar sein, was der Rechtssicherheit
in hohem Maße abträglich ist. Aufgezeigt werden kann dies an zwei
Beispielen:

45
Vgl. zur Besonderheit der gemischten Verträge bereits oben C.I.1.
46
So wohl auch EuGH, Fall C-431/05, Merck Genéricos, 2007 Slg. I-7001.
47
Hierzu noch unten C.III.
48
S.o. C.I.1.
49
Zu diesen oben B.I.
 zu den implikationen der eu-mitgliedschaft1923

– Erstens sei auf das Personenfreizügigkeitsabkommen der EU

und ihrer Mitgliedstaaten mit der Schweiz50 hingewiesen: Dieses
Abkommen sieht u.a. zahlreiche Freizügigkeitsrechte für Schweize-
rinnen und Schweizer in der EU (und umgekehrt für Unionsbürger
in der Schweiz) sowie entsprechende Begleitrechte vor.51 Da es
unklar ist, welche Regelungen des Personenfreizügigkeitsabkom-
mens nun genau nicht in die Kompetenz der EU, sondern (nur) in
diejenige der Mitgliedstaaten fallen und insbesondere, inwieweit die
Regelung der Freizügigkeit für Drittstaatsangehörige in der Kompe-
tenz der Union liegt, ist ebenso unklar, welche Bestimmungen des
Abkommens nun als integrierende Bestandteile des Unionsrechts
nach den unionsrechtlichen Vorgaben durch die Mitgliedstaaten
anzuwenden sind.
– Zweitens kann das bereits erwähnte Urteil des EuGH im Fall
C-431/0552 angeführt werden: Hier präzisierte der EuGH (nach der
Feststellung, dass im Falle von gemischten Abkommen – wie dem
TRIPS-Übereinkommen – abkommensrechtliche Maßnahmen bzw.
Bestimmungen nur insoweit dem Unionsrecht unterliegen, als es
sich um Bereiche handelt, die in die (Außen-) Kompetenz der EU
fallen), dass – in Bezug auf die rechtliche Tragweite des TRIPS-
Abkommens – im Falle des Bestehens einer Kompetenz der EU die
nationalen Vorschriften möglichst abkommenskonform auszulegen
seien, während eine unmittelbare Wirkung (in Anwendung der uni-
onsrechtlichen Grundsätze) ausgeschlossen sei. Sei jedoch eine EU-
Kompetenz zu verneinen (wie im Falle des Patente betreffenden Art.
33 TRIPS-Übereinkommen), sei es den Mitgliedstaaten überlassen,
ob sie dieser Bestimmung unmittelbare Wirkung zuerkennen wol-
len. Diese Rechtsprechung impliziert, dass diejenigen Abkommens-
bestimmungen, die in der Zuständigkeit der Union liegen, keine
unmittelbare Wirkung entfalten können, während anderen Bestim-
mungen, bei denen dies nicht der Fall ist, die aber ansonsten ver-
gleichbar sind, eine solche zukommen kann (dies in Anwendung der

50
S. den Text des Abkommens in ABl. L 114/2002, 6 ff.
51
Vgl. im Einzelnen zu diesem Abkommen, m. w. N., A. Epiney, Das Abkommen
über die Personenfreizügigkeit–Überblick und ausgewählte Aspekte, in: A. Achermann
/ A. Epiney / W. Kälin / M. S. Nguyen (Hrsg.), Jahrbuch für Migrationsrecht / Annuaire
du droit de la migration 2004/2005, 45 ff. (2005); V. Boillet, L’interdiction de discrimi-
nation en raison de la nationalité au sens de l’Accord sur la libre circulation des person-
nes, 5 ff. (2010).
52
EuGH, Fall C-431/05, Merck Genéricos, 2007 Slg. I-7001.
1924 astrid epiney

einschlägigen verfassungsrechtlichen Grundsätze). Je nachdem, wie

weit der Unionsgesetzgeber noch von seinen Kompetenzen
Gebrauch macht, kann sich die aufgrund der Anwendung des natio-
nalen Rechts ergebende unmittelbare Wirkung völkervertragsrecht-
licher Bestimmungen im Laufe der Zeit wohl auch noch ändern. Da
die hierfür maßgeblichen Kriterien nicht in allen Punkten sehr klar
sind, kann es für den Rechtsunterworfenen in Bezug auf die Rechte,
auf die er sich direkt berufen kann, zu erheblichen Rechtsunsicher-
heiten kommen.
Weiter sei auf die Gefahr der Inkohärenz der Rechtsstellung
völkerrechtlicher Verträge im innerstaatlichen Bereich hingewiesen:
Möglicherweise müssen aufgrund der erwähnten „Dualität“ völker-
vertragsrechtliche Bestimmungen mit ähnlicher Tragweite in Bezug
auf ihre Rechtswirkungen und den zum Zuge kommenden Rechtsschutz
unterschiedlich behandelt werden, was ggf. sehr unbefriedigend sein
kann. Auch dies kann am Beispiel des Personenfreizügigkeitsabkom­
mens mit der Schweiz aufgezeigt werden: Grundsätzlich müssten die
Mitgliedstaaten hier – im Rahmen der Anwendung bzw. Durchführung
des Abkommens – diejenigen Bestimmungen, die in der Kompetenz
der Union liegen, vollumfänglich als „integrierende Bestandteile“ des
Unionsrechts nach den dargelegten Grundsätzen behandeln, während
diejenigen Bereiche, für die der Union keine Kompetenz zukommt,
nach den einschlägigen, ggf. abweichenden innerstaatlichen
Vorschriften anzuwenden bzw. durchzuführen wären, dies obwohl es
in jedem Fall um Aufenthaltsrechte und damit verbundene Fragen
geht.
Immerhin sei in diesem Zusammenhang darauf hingewiesen, dass
sich die angesprochenen Probleme dadurch etwas entschärfen, dass
gemischte Verträge immer schon dann abzuschließen sind, wenn der
Union keine ausschließliche Kompetenz zusteht,53 und auf das
Instrument der gemischten Verträge häufig nur vor dem Hintergrund
einer fehlenden ausschließlichen Kompetenz der Union zurückgegrif-
fen wurde. Für die der geteilten Kompetenz der Union unterliegenden
Bereiche ist aber eine Unionskompetenz selbstredend zu bejahen, so
dass insoweit die dargelegten Grundsätze und Implikationen der
Qualifizierung der völkervertraglichen Regelungen als integrierende
Bestandteile des Unionsrechts vollumfänglich zum Zuge kommen.

53
S.o. B.I., II.
 zu den implikationen der eu-mitgliedschaft1925

Gleichwohl stellt sich insgesamt die Frage, ob die „Unionisierung

völkerrechtlicher Verträge“ in den Mitgliedstaaten eine Tendenz hin
zu einer gewissen Harmonisierung der Stellung völkerrechtlicher
Verträge im innerstaatlichen Bereich im Sinne einer Angleichung an
die Rechtslage aufgrund des Unionsrechts nach sich zieht bzw. ziehen
wird, zumindest, soweit gewisse Fragen (z.B. unmittelbare Geltung
oder Vorrang vor innerstaatlichem Recht) betroffen sind. Im
Augenblick dürften solche Tendenzen allenfalls am Rande zu verzeich-
nen sein; im Zuge der wachsenden qualitativen und quantitativen
Bedeutung des Völkervertragsrechts ist hier aber eine ggf. schnelle
Entwicklung in diese Richtung nicht auszuschließen.

II. Zur Frage der Normenhierarchie

Von der EU abgeschlossenen Verträgen kommt Vorrang vor dem
Sekundärrecht zu, sind sie doch nach Art. 216 Abs. 2 AEUV u.a. für
die Unionsorgane verbindlich. Diese Sicht wird durch die Erwägung
bestätigt, dass man aus der Gesamtheit der vertraglichen Bestim­
mungen betreffend Abschluss und Wirkungen völkerrechtlicher
Verträge den Grundsatz ableiten kann, dass sich die Unions­
rechtsordnung in den internationalen Rahmen integrieren soll. Dies
kann aber – auch angesichts des Fehlens eines irgendwie gearteten
Transformationsmechanismus – effektiv nur dadurch sichergestellt
werden, dass das Völkerrecht im internen Bereich insofern Wirkungen
entfaltet, als ihm im Verhältnis zum Sekundärrecht Vorrang zukommt,
könnte doch ansonsten die Wirksamkeit völkerrechtlicher Verträge
(einfach) durch den Erlass von Sekundärrecht ausgehebelt werden.
Insofern stellt die Beachtung des Völkerrechts für die Union einen
Wert an sich dar.54 Entsprechende Überlegungen können aber auch
für die Stellung des allgemeinen Völkerrechts, insbesondere der
Grundsätze des Völkergewohnheitsrechts, angestellt werden: Auch
hier impliziert die Einbettung der Union (als „Rechtsgemeinschaft“) in
die Völkerrechtsgemeinschaft die Beachtung der entsprechenden
Verpflichtungen, was letztlich nur über das Primat des allgemeinen

54
Der EuGH geht denn auch in ständiger Rechtsprechung vom Vorrang des
Völkervertragsrechts im Verhältnis zum Sekundärrecht aus, vgl. schon EuGH, verb.
Fälle C-21/72 u.a., International Fruit Company, 1972 Slg. 1219; EuGH, Fall C-181/73,
Haegman, 1974 Slg. 449; EuGH, Fall C-280/93, Deutschland vs. Rat, 1994 Slg. I-4973.
Aus der Literatur etwa Ott (Fn. 9), 73 f.; T. Stein, Bananen-Split? – Entzweien sich
BVerfG und EuGH über den Bananenstreit?, EuZW 261 262 f. (1998).
1926 astrid epiney

Völkerrechts über die sekundärrechtlichen Akte sichergestellt werden

kann.55
Ein Teil der Lehre will diese Grundsätze auch auf das Primärrecht
ausdehnen, dies insbesondere unter Berufung auf Art. 19 Abs. 1 Uabs.
1 S. 2 EUV (wonach der Gerichtshof die Wahrung des Rechts bei der
Auslegung und Anwendung der Verträge sichert), der die („absolute“)
Beachtung und Anwendung des Völkerrechts impliziere, auch im
Verhältnis zum Primärrecht.56 Diese Sicht vermag jedoch in Anbetracht
des Art. 218 Abs. 11 AEUV in dieser Allgemeinheit nicht zu überzeu-
gen: Diese Bestimmung sieht ausdrücklich die Möglichkeit vor, unter
bestimmten Voraussetzungen ein Gutachten des EuGH über die
Vereinbarkeit eines geplanten völkerrechtlichen Vertrages mit den
Bestimmungen des Primärrechts zu erwirken; wird die Vereinbarkeit
verneint, darf der Vertrag nur unter Beachtung der für eine
Vertragsänderung vorgesehenen Verfahren abgeschlossen werden.
Diesem Verfahren kann nur unter der Voraussetzung ein Sinn zukom-
men, dass die Verträge in der Normenhierarchie unter dem Primärrecht
anzusiedeln sind;57 ansonsten ergäbe die vorherige Prüfung ihrer
Vereinbarkeit mit dem Primärrecht keinen Sinn. Zudem kann auch
nur diese Sicht tatsächlich die grundsätzliche Maßgeblichkeit des
Primärrechts sowohl im Falle der effektiven Abfassung eines derarti-
gen Gutachtens als auch im Falle der nicht erfolgten Einholung eines
Gutachtens sicherstellen. Es erschiene widersinnig, im Falle der
Einholung eines Gutachtens und der Feststellung der Unvereinbarkeit
des Abkommensentwurfs mit den Verträgen eine Modifikation des
Primärrechts zu verlangen (soll der Vertrag gleichwohl wie vorgesehen
abgeschlossen werden), hingegen im Falle des Nichteinholens eines
Gutachtens von einem Vorrang des völkerrechtlichen Vertrages auszu-
gehen. Der EuGH dürfte ebenfalls davon ausgehen, dass völkerrechtli-
che Abkommen im Rang zwischen Primär- und Sekundärrecht stehen,
so wenn er die Vereinbarkeit einer EU-Verordnung, die eine Resolution

55
Insofern ist es folgerichtig, dass der EuGH in EuGH, Fall C-162/96, Racke, 1998
Slg. I-3688, Rn. 44 ff., nicht nur ausdrücklich den Vorrang des Völkergewohnheitsrechts
vor dem Sekundärrecht anerkannt hat, sondern auch eine EU-Verordnung auf ihre
Vereinbarkeit mit Grundsätzen des Völkergewohnheitsrechts überprüft hat – wobei
diese jedoch im Ergebnis bejaht wurde.
56
Cf. C. Kaddous, L’arrêt France c. Commission de 1994 (accord concurrence) et le
contrôle de la « légalité » des accords externes en vertu de l’art. 173 CE: la difficile
réconciliation de l’orthodoxie communautaire avec l’orthodoxie internationale, Cahiers
de droit européen 613, 620 ff. (1996).
57
Vgl. Hobe / Müller-Sartori (Fn. 21), 8 ff.
 zu den implikationen der eu-mitgliedschaft1927

des Sicherheitsrates „getreulich“ umsetzte, mit primärrechtlichen

Vorgaben überprüfte und auch ausdrücklich darauf hinwies, dass sich
aus Art. 300 Abs. 7 EGV (Art. 216 Abs. 2 AEUV) ergebe, dass sich ein
Vorrang völkerrechtlicher Verträge nur auf das Sekundärrecht, nicht
jedoch auf das Primärrecht, erstrecke.58
Im Anschluss an diese grundsätzliche Anerkennung des Vorrangs
des Primärrechts stellt sich aber die Frage nach den konkreten
Implikationen dieses Vorrangs bei der Rechtsanwendung. Dabei geht
es in erster Linie darum, ob in Anwendung dieses Grundsatzes gegen
Primärrecht verstoßende Bestimmungen völkerrechtlicher Verträge
bzw. unter Verletzung des Primärrechts für die Union verbindlich
gewordene Verträge nicht anzuwenden sind. Auf den ersten Blick wäre
diese Frage zu bejahen, kommt doch höherrangigem Recht grundsätz-
lich (zumindest) ein Anwendungsvorrang vor in der Normenhierarchie
niedrigerem Recht zu, ganz abgesehen davon, dass die Frage nach der
Normenhierarchie grundsätzlich gerade die Problematik des
Anwendungsvorrangs (oder auch des Geltungsvorrangs) betrifft.
Diesem Schluss stehen jedoch in Bezug auf die hier zu beantwortende
Frage gewichtige Argumente entgegen: Denn angesichts der Einbettung
der Union in die Völkerrechtsgemeinschaft unterliegt es erhebli-
chen Zweifeln, die dem Primärrecht – wie gezeigt – zu entnehmende
Normenhierarchie so auszulegen, dass damit die grundsätzliche
Bindung der Union an ihre völkerrechtlichen Verpflichtungen in Frage
gestellt würde. Denn auch ein primärrechtswidriger völkerrechtlicher
Vertrag ist grundsätzlich auf der völkerrechtlichen Ebene verbind-
lich.59 Hinzu kommt, dass der völkergewohnheitsrechtliche Grundsatz
pacta sunt servanda integrierender Bestandteil des Unionsrechts ist;60
er dürfte nämlich als solcher sicherlich nicht primärrechtlichen
Vorgaben widersprechen. Vor diesem Hintergrund ist nach der hier
vertretenen Ansicht der Aussagegehalt des Vorrangs des Primärrechts
vor völker (vertrags) rechtlichen Verpflichtungen insofern zu präzisie-
ren, als er nur insoweit zur Nichtanwendung der betroffenen
völker(vertrags)rechtlichen Bestimmungen führt, als dies mit den völ-
kerrechtlichen Verpflichtungen der Union in Einklang steht.61 Falls ein
Abkommen also unter Verletzung des Primärrechts (etwa aufgrund

58
EuGH, verb. Fälle C-402/05, C-415/06, Kadi, 2008 Slg. I-6351.
59
S. schon oben C.I.1.
60
S.o.A.
61
Vgl. in diese Richtung bereits Epiney (Fn. 21), 8.
1928 astrid epiney

einer falschen Rechtsgrundlage, eines mit Fehlern behafteten Ver­

fahrens oder unter Nichtbeachtung materieller primärrechtlicher
Vorgaben) zustande gekommen und für die EU verbindlich ist (wobei
eine solche Verletzung des Primärrechts grundsätzlich nur dann als
gegeben anzunehmen ist, falls sie vom EuGH auch festgestellt wurde),62
impliziert der Vorrang des Primärrechts zwar, dass dieser Vertrag bzw.
gewisse seiner Bestimmungen nicht als verbindliches positives Recht
angewandt und durchgeführt werden dürfen; dies gilt aber nur soweit,
als die Union hiermit auf völkerrechtlicher Ebene nicht den Grundsatz
pacta sunt servanda verletzt, so dass auf diese Weise die Reichweite der
völkerrechtlichen Verpflichtungen auch Implikationen für die
Rechtslage im Unionsrecht entfaltet.63

III. Zur gerichtlichen Kontrolle durch den EuGH

Die gerichtliche Kontrolle durch den EuGH – wobei diese sowohl
in Bezug auf die Auslegung völkerrechtlicher Verträge oder von
Völkergewohnheitsrecht als auch in Bezug auf die Frage nach der
Gültigkeit des Abschlusses bzw. der innerunionsrechtlichen Geneh­
migung völkerrechtlicher Verträge von Bedeutung sein kann – ist inso-
fern von zentraler Bedeutung, als sie letztlich determiniert, inwieweit
die dargelegten Wirkungen des einen integrierenden Bestandteil der
Unionsrechtsordnung bildenden Völkerrechts auch tatsächlich durch-
gesetzt werden können, ggf. von Einzelnen. Im Übrigen entfaltet
die Charakterisierung völkerrechtlicher Verträge als integrierender
Bestandteil des Unionsrechts selbstredend auch auf der Ebene
der gerichtlichen Kontrolle Rückwirkungen. Vor diesem Hintergrund
sei im Folgenden kurz auf die hier maßgeblichen Grundsätze
eingegangen.64

1. Zur Auslegung völkerrechtlicher Bestimmungen durch den EuGH

(Art. 267 AEUV)
Aufgrund der „Integration“ völkerrechtlicher Verträge in die Unions­
rechtsordnung sind diese als Teil des in der Union anwendbaren Rechts
im Sinne des Art. 19 Abs. 1 Uabs. 1 S. 2 EUV anzusehen, so dass der

62
Zur gerichtlichen Kontrolle noch sogleich unten C.III.
63
Zur Möglichkeit des Gerichtshofs, die Folgen der Nichtigkeit des Genehmi­
gungsbeschlusses zu beschränken, noch sogleich unten C.III.2.
64
Vgl. hierzu auch schon Epiney (Fn. 21), 8 ff.
 zu den implikationen der eu-mitgliedschaft1929

Gerichtshof grundsätzlich für ihre Anwendung und Auslegung

zuständig sein muss, immer soweit ein Verfahren nach den Art. 258 ff.
AEUV eröffnet ist. Dem steht auch nicht entgegen, dass völkerrechtli-
che Verträge nicht (nur) „Handlungen der Organe der Union“ sind –
kommen sie doch erst durch eine übereinstimmende Willenserklärung
von mindestens zwei Völkerrechtssubjekten nach den vorgesehenen
völkerrechtlichen Mechanismen zustande. Denn als Bestandteile der
Unionsrechtsordnung müssen sie in den Mitgliedstaaten einheitlich
ausgelegt und angewandt werden, ebenso wie das übrige Unionsrecht.
Zudem haben die Unionsorgane insofern zur Entstehung dieser
Normen beigetragen, als sie im Rahmen ihrer Zuständigkeiten den
jeweiligen Vertrag abgeschlossen bzw. genehmigt haben, so dass sich
die weite Auslegung insbesondere des Art. 267 Abs. 1 lit. b) AEUV
aufdrängt.65
In Bezug auf gemischte Abkommen ist zu beachten, dass – wie
bereits erwähnt66 – der Abschluss solcher Abkommen nicht zu einer
Verschiebung der Kompetenzverteilung zwischen Union und
Mitgliedstaaten führen darf. Daher ist grundsätzlich in dem Sinn eine
Differenzierung vorzunehmen, dass der Gerichtshof für die Auslegung
der in die Kompetenz der Union fallenden Bestimmungen der Verträge
zuständig ist, für die (nur) in der Kompetenz der Mitgliedstaaten lie-
genden Bereiche jedoch nicht. Allerdings wird dieser theoretisch m.E.
zwingende Ansatz in der praktischen Anwendung durch mindestens
drei Faktoren relativiert:
– Erstens wird die Reichweite der Zuständigkeit(en) der Union in der
Regel fraglich sein. Da die Beantwortung dieser Frage aber dem
EuGH obliegt, sind entsprechende Vorlagefragen zunächst einmal
als zulässig anzusehen, und der Gerichtshof hat sodann bei der
Beantwortung der Vorlagefragen die entsprechende Kompetenz-
frage ggf. zu klären. Das Vorlagerecht bzw. die Vorlagepflicht entfällt
erst dann, wenn sich unzweifelhaft feststellen lässt, dass ein Bereich
gerade nicht in die Kompetenz der Union fällt. Dies wird nur äußerst
selten der Fall sein, und zwar auch in den Fällen, in denen schon
eine Rechtsprechung des EuGH existiert, denn die Reichweite der
Kompetenzen kann sich im Laufe der Zeit auch verändern.

65
Vgl. aus der Rechtsprechung nur EuGH, Fall C-181/73, Haegmann, 1974 Slg. 449,
Rn. 2/6; EuGH, Fall C-12/86, Demirel, 1987 Slg. 3719.
66
 Oben C.I.2.
1930 astrid epiney

– Zweitens fallen die geteilten Zuständigkeiten der Union insgesamt

sehr weit aus,67 so dass der EuGH regelmäßig für die Auslegung der
meisten völkervertragsrechtlichen Bestimmungen zuständig sein
wird.
– Schließlich ist eine Vorlagefrage immer schon dann zulässig, wenn
sie auch eine in den Anwendungs- und Kompetenzbereich des Uni-
onsrechts fallende Problematik berührt, und zwar unabhängig
davon, ob der Ausgangsstreit tatsächlich diese Konstellation oder
aber eine in den Anwendungsbereich des nationalen Rechts fallende
Fallgestaltung betroffen hatte.68 Denn bei der Anwendbarkeit einer
Vorschrift sowohl auf innerstaatliche als auch auf dem Unionsrecht
unterworfene Sachverhalte besteht ein Interesse der Union an ihrer
einheitlichen Anwendung.
Soweit die für die Union verbindlichen allgemeinen Völkerrechtsnormen
betroffen sind, sind Vorlagefragen, die sich ausschließlich auf die
Auslegung des allgemeinen Völkerrechts beziehen, unzulässig: Denn
hier geht es gerade nicht (auch nicht „mittelbar“) um „Handlungen der
Organe der Union“. Auch greift hier die Erwägung der Notwendigkeit
einer einheitlichen Auslegung und Anwendung in den Mitglied­
staaten nicht. Denn die Grundsätze des allgemeinen Völkerrechts
sind zwar Bestandteile der Unionsrechtsordnung.69 Für die Mitglied­
staaten unmittelbar als solche verbindlich sind sie jedoch insofern
nicht, als sie (nur) die Union als Völkerrechtssubjekt binden; eine
„Durchgriffswirkung“ auf die Mitgliedstaaten dürfte zu verneinen sein.
Nichtsdestotrotz können die Grundsätze des allgemeinen Völkerrechts
auch im Rahmen von Vorabentscheidungen relevant werden: Da sie
integrierende Bestandteile der Unionsrechtsordnung sind und dem
Sekundärrecht vorgehen, kann etwa die Auslegung (oder auch die
Gültigkeit) des EU-Sekundärrechts vor dem Hintergrund allgemeiner
völkerrechtlicher Grundsätze relevant werden.70 Damit sind die allge-
meinen Regeln des Völkerrechts (als integrierende Bestandteile des
Unionsrechts) ggf. inzidenter heranzuziehen und können insoweit
auch Gegenstand von Vorlagefragen sein.

67
S.o. B.I.
68
Vgl. die Fallgestaltung in EuGH, Fall C-53/96, Hermès, 1998 Slg. I-3603.
69
 Oben A., C.I., am Anfang.
70
Vgl. z.B. die Konstellation in EuGH, Fall C-162/96, Racke, 1998 Slg. I-3688.
 zu den implikationen der eu-mitgliedschaft1931

2. Zur Überprüfung der Gültigkeit völkerrechtlicher Verträge durch den

EuGH
Die Prüfung der Gültigkeit völkerrechtlicher Verträge bzw. der
entsprechenden Genehmigungsbeschlüsse ist über Art. 267 Abs. 1 lit.
b) AEUV (Vorabentscheidung) oder über Art. 263 AEUV (Nichtig­
keitsklage) möglich.71 Die teilweise gegen die Zulässigkeit derartiger
Klagen oder Vorlagefragen geltend gemachten grundsätzlichen
Zweifel72 stehen nicht nur im Gegensatz zur ständigen Rechtsprechung
des EuGH, sondern vermögen auch schon deshalb nicht zu überzeu-
gen, weil die Verneinung der Kontrollmöglichkeit der Gültigkeit völ-
kerrechtlicher Verträge bzw. der Genehmigungsbeschlüsse durch den
EuGH implizierte, dass ein (immer mehr an Bedeutung gewinnender)
Teil der Handlungen der Unionsorgane keiner gerichtlichen Kontrolle
unterläge. Dies steht aber im Gegensatz zu dem vertraglichen Grundsatz
(wie er auch in den Art. 263, 267 AEUV zum Ausdruck gekommen
ist), dass die Unionsorgane ihre Tätigkeiten nur unter Beachtung
der vertraglichen Vorgaben ausüben können sollen, was durch den
Gerichtshof grundsätzlich überprüft werden kann.
Dabei ist ausschließlich der Genehmigungsbeschluss selbst als
Gegenstand einer Klage oder einer Vorlagefrage anzusehen, und zwar
auch, wenn es um die Rechtmäßigkeit materieller Vertragsbestimmungen
(im Sinne ihrer Vereinbarkeit mit dem Primärrecht) geht: Denn die
Kontrolle des Gerichtshofs bezieht sich auf die Handlungen der
Unionsorgane, nicht aber auf das im Vertrag zum Ausdruck gekom-
mene Ergebnis des Zusammenwirkens mit Dritten; der Vertrag selbst
stellt an sich als bi- bzw. multilateraler Akt, an dem eben auch Dritte
mitwirken, keine Handlung der Unionsorgane dar, die für „nichtig“
erklärt werden könnte. Auch im Ergebnis geht es letztlich in jedem Fall
um den Genehmigungsbeschluss, der eben im Falle materieller
Unvereinbarkeit mit dem Primärrecht oder der Unzuständigkeit der
Union nicht hätte erfolgen dürfen, sind doch die Unionsorgane an die
Vorgaben der Verträge gebunden.

71
Vgl. aus der Rechtsprechung schon das obiter dictum in EuGH, Fall C-1/75,
Lokale Kosten, 1975 Slg. 1355, Rn. 12; s. sodann EuGH, Fall C-327/91, Frankreich vs.
Kommission, 1994 Slg. I-3641; EuGH, Gutachten 3/94, 1995 Slg. I-4579; EuGH, Fall
C-286/94, Portugal vs. Rat, 1996 Slg. I-6177.
72
Vgl. Kaddous (Fn. 56), 620 ff.
1932 astrid epiney

In Bezug auf die Frage nach den Rechtsfolgen der Nichtigkeit eines
Genehmigungsbeschlusses bzw. eines Teils desselben ist letztlich der
bereits im Zusammenhang mit der Normenhierarchie73 erwähnte
Grundsatz pacta sunt servanda maßgeblich: Zwar müsste eine (Teil-)
Nichtigerklärung einer Handlung eines Unionsorgans – hier eines
Beschlusses zur Genehmigung der Ratifikation eines völkerrechtlichen
Vertrages – durch den EuGH grundsätzlich auf den ersten Blick die
Unanwendbarkeit des betreffenden völkerrechtlichen Vertrages im
Unionsrecht nach sich ziehen, so dass der betreffende Vertrag
innerunionsrechtlich keine Wirkungen mehr entfalten könnte, fällt
doch der diese Wirkungen begründende Beschluss weg.74 Allerdings
bewirkt der Grundsatz pacta sunt servanda, dass die entsprechen-
den völkervertraglichen Bestimmungen – trotz der Nichtigkeit des
Genehmigungsbeschlusses – im Einklang mit den völkerrechtlichen
Grundsätzen angewandt werden müssen, so dass sie nur unter
Beachtung der einschlägigen völkerrechtlichen Regeln ihre Wirkung
verlieren können.75 Der völkerrechtliche Vertrag bleibt ansonsten als
für die Union verbindliches Völkerrecht und damit als integrierender
Bestandteil des Unionsrechts weiterhin in Kraft. Vor diesem
Hintergrund darf (und muss, wegen der Nichtigerklärung des
Genehmigungsbeschlusses) der völkerrechtliche Vertrag nur insoweit
im Unionsrecht nicht beachtet werden, wie dies mit den völkerver-
tragsrechtlichen Vorgaben in Einklang steht.
Zuzugeben ist allerdings, dass die Beantwortung der Frage, ob und
inwieweit diese Voraussetzung gegeben ist, durchaus mit Unsicherheiten
behaftet sein kann.76 Dem kann der EuGH dadurch begegnen, dass er
von vornherein eine Nichtigkeitserklärung in ihren Wirkungen
beschränkt (vgl. Art. 264 Abs. 2 AEUV).77

73
 Oben C.II.
74
Dies wird denn auch teilweise als Argument für die grundsätzliche
Unzulässigkeit der Geltendmachung der Ungültigkeit völkerrechtlicher Verträge nach
ihrem Inkrafttreten für die Union angeführt, vgl. Kaddous (Fn. 56), 620 ff.
75
S. schon oben C.II.
76
Vgl. insoweit auch den Hinweis des EuGH, der festhält, im Falle der Nichtigkeit
des Genehmigungsbeschlusses könne in Bezug auf die unionsinterne Anwendbarkeit
des Abkommens eine “Rechtsunsicherheit“ entstehen, EuGH, Fall C-211/01,
Kommission vs. Rat, 2003 Slg. I-8913, Rn. 57.
77
S. diesen Hinweis auch ausdrücklich in EuGH, Fall C-360/93, Parlament vs. Rat,
1996 Slg. I-1195, Rn. 35; EuGH, Fall C-211/01, Kommission vs. Rat, 2003 Slg. I-8913,
Rn. 57.
 zu den implikationen der eu-mitgliedschaft1933

D. Zur Tragweite des Art. 4 Abs. 3 EUV für die

Mitgliedstaaten

Art. 4 Abs. 3 EUV (ehemals Art. 10 EGV) ist eine Reihe von
Rechtspflichten für die Union und ihre Mitgliedstaaten zu entnehmen,
denen – insbesondere im Zuge ihrer Präzisierung und Ausdifferenzie­
rung durch die Rechtsprechung des EuGH – eine nicht zu unterschät-
zende Bedeutung zukommt.78 Im Zusammenhang mit der Thematik
des vorliegenden Beitrages ist insbesondere die Tragweite des Art. 4
Abs. 3 EUV für die Mitgliedstaaten im Rahmen der Durchführung völ-
kerrechtlicher Verträge von Bedeutung:79 Hat die Union völkerrechtli-
che Verträge abgeschlossen, sind die Mitgliedstaaten verpflichtet,
Vollzug und Umsetzung so auszugestalten, dass die Einhaltung der
völkerrechtlichen Verpflichtungen durch die Union nicht gefährdet
wird. Dies impliziert auch eine Pflicht zur Zusammenarbeit zwischen
den Mitgliedstaaten und den Unionsorganen u.a. bei der Durchsetzung
völkerrechtlicher Verträge,80 so dass die Mitgliedstaaten (und die
Union) zu umfassender gegenseitiger Information und Konsultation
angehalten sind,81 geht es hier doch um die Durchführung (auch) von
der Union abgeschlossener Verträge, so dass unionsrechtliche Inte­
ressen regelmäßig und im Zweifel betroffen sind. Im Weiteren dürfte
eine Pflicht zur Berücksichtigung der geäußerten Standpunkte auch in
materieller Hinsicht grundsätzlich zu bejahen sein: Werden von den
Unionsorganen begründete Bedenken gegen eine bestimmte mitglied-
staatliche Maßnahme angemeldet, so müssen diese wohl – und zwar

78
Vgl. zur rechtlichen Tragweite des Art. 4 Abs. 3 EUV den Überblick bei A. Epiney,
Zur Tragweite des Art. 10 EGV im Bereich der Außenbeziehungen, in: FS Georg Ress,
441, 444 f. (2005).
79
Vgl. ansonsten zu den sich aus Art. 10 EGV ergebenden Pflichten im
Zusammenhang mit den Außenbeziehungen, insbesondere soweit die Kompeten­
zausübung durch die Mitgliedstaaten und damit deren außenpolitisches Handeln
betroffen ist, Epiney (Fn. 78), 445 ff.
80
Vgl. EuGH, Beschluss 1/78, Entwurf der internationalen Atomenergieorganisation
zu einem Übereinkommen, 1978 Slg. 2151, Rn. 36/38; EuGH, Gutachten 2/91, ILO,
1993 Slg. I-1061, Rn. 36; EuGH, Gutachten 1/94, Zuständigkeit zum Abschluss völker-
rechtlicher Abkommen auf dem Gebiet der Dienstleistungen, 1994 Slg. 5267, Rn. 108.
Vgl. hierzu auch L. Granvik, Incomplete Mixed Environmental Agreements of the
Community and the Principle of Bindingness, in: M. Koskenniemi, International Law
Aspects of the European Union, 255, 264 f. (1998).
81
S. ausdrücklich EuGH, Fall C-25/94, Kommission vs. Rat, 1996 Slg. I-1469,
Rn. 48, wo der der EuGH betont, dass eine enge Zusammenarbeit zwischen den
Mitgliedstaaten und den Unionsorganen sowohl bei der Aushandlung und beim
Abschluss als auch bei der Erfüllung der übernommenen Pflichten sicherzustellen sei.
1934 astrid epiney

unabhängig von einer materiellen Beeinträchtigung unionsrechtlicher

Regelungen – zumindest tatsächlich in die Betrachtungen einbezogen
werden, kann doch nur auf diese Weise ein möglichst effektives
Zusammenwirken bei der Durchführung völkerrechtlicher Verträge
sichergestellt werden. Die genauen Konturen dieser Pflichten sind aber
in Abhängigkeit von den Umständen des Einzelfalls zu bestimmen.

E. Schluss

Insgesamt dürften die Ausführungen insbesondere dreierlei aufgezeigt

haben:
– Die Einbettung völkerrechtlicher Verträge in das Unionsrecht als
integrierende Bestandteile desselben zieht beachtliche Konsequen-
zen in Bezug auf die Rechtswirkungen der in den Mitgliedstaaten
geltenden Rechtsnormen nach sich, die mittelfristig dazu führen
könnten, dass die „althergebrachten“ diesbezüglichen verfassungs-
rechtlichen Grundsätze insbesondere in Mitgliedstaaten mit dualis-
tischer Tradition zumindest teilweise in Frage gestellt werden.
– Die gerichtliche Kontrolle durch den EuGH fällt auch bei völker-
rechtlichen Verträgen insgesamt umfassend aus.
– Bei der Durchführung von durch die Union abgeschlossenen völ-
kerrechtlichen Verträgen obliegen den Mitgliedstaaten umfassende
Informations-, Konsultations- und Berücksichtigungspflichten.
Damit fallen die Implikationen einer EU-Mitgliedschaft für die Anwen­
dung von Völkervertragsrecht in den Mitgliedstaaten – ungeachtet
von den in diesen zum Zuge kommenden verfassungsrechtlichen
Grundsätzen im Bereich des Verhältnisses zwischen Völkerrecht und
Landesrecht – recht intensiv aus, und das für die EU verbindliche
Völker(vertrags)recht nähert sich in seinen Rechtswirkungen in den
Mitgliedstaaten weitgehend dem Unionsrecht an, so dass – angesichts
der umfassenden völkerrechtlichen Kompetenzen der Union und ihrer
herausragenden Rolle als Vertragspartner völkerrechtlicher Verträge–
die Prognose gewagt werden darf, dass in den Mitgliedstaaten in eini-
gen Jahren möglicherweise im Wesentlichen nur noch zwei große
Komplexe von Rechtsnormen zur Anwendung kommen: Unionsrecht
(unter Einschluss des als integrierender Bestandteil des Unionsrechts
zu betrachtenden Völkervertragsrechts) und nationales Recht.
 Zur VerfassungsmäSSigkeit unilateraler
Pirateriebekämpfung durch die Deutsche Marine

Ulrich Fastenrath

A. Einleitung

Seit Dezember 2008 beteiligt sich die Deutsche Marine an der Bekämp-
fung von Piraten am Horn von Afrika. Dies geschieht im Rahmen der
Mission Atalanta, die von der Europäischen Union (EU) auf der
Grundlage der Bestimmungen über die Gemeinsame Außen- und
Sicherheitspolitik beschlossen worden ist 1 und von ihr auch geführt
wird. Die EU entspricht damit einer Aufforderung des Sicherheitsrats
der Vereinten Nationen,2 gegen die zumeist von Somalia aus operie-
renden Piraten vorzugehen. Dabei hat der Sicherheitsrat die Staaten
ermächtigt, die Piraten mit Zustimmung der somalischen Übergangs-
regierung erforderlichenfalls auch in den Hoheitsgewässern Somalias3
und sogar auf somalischem Territorium zu verfolgen.4 Als verfassungs-
rechtliche Grundlage ist im Antrag der Bundesregierung, dem der
Bundestag gemäß § 3 des Gesetzes über die parlamentarische Beteili-
gung bei der Entscheidung über den Einsatz bewaffneter Streitkräfte
im Ausland (Parlamentsbeteiligungsgesetz, ParlBG)5 zugestimmt hat,
Art. 24 Abs. 2 GG angegeben,6 der nach der Rechtsprechung des

1
Gemeinsame Aktion 2008/851/GASP, ABl. 2008 L 301, 33 (berichtigt ABl. 2009
L 10, 35; L 253, 19); Operationsgebiet erweitert durch Beschluss des Politischen und
Sicherheitspolitischen Komitees vom 19. Mai 2009; Mission verlängert und geändert
durch Beschlüsse des Rats der EU vom 8. Dezember 2009 (2009/907/GASP, ABl. L 322,
27) und vom 30. Juli 2010 (2010/437/GASP, ABl. L 210, 33).
2
SR Res. 1814 vom 15. Mai 2008; SR Res. 1816 vom 2. Juni 2008; SR Res. 1838 vom
7. Oktober 2008; SR Res. 1844 vom 20. November 2008; SR Res. 1846 vom 2. Dezember
2008; SR Res. 1851 vom 16. Dezember 2008; SR Res. 1897 vom 30. November 2009;
SR Res. 1918 vom 27. April 2010; SR Res. 1950 vom 23. November 2010.
3
SR Res. 1816 vom 2. Juni 2008; SR Res. 1846 vom 2. Dezember 2008.
4
SR Res. 1851 vom 16. Dezember 2008; SR Res. 1897 vom 30. November 2009;
SR Res. 1950 vom 23. November 2010.
5
BGBl. 2005 I, 775.
6
BT-Drucks. 16/11337, 2; Mandat erweitert und erneuert durch Beschlüsse des
Bundestags vom 18. Juni 2009 (BT-Drucks. 16/13187), vom 16. Dezember 2009 (BT-
Drucks. 17/179) und vom 2. Dezember 2010 (BT-Drucks. 17/3691).
1936 ulrich fastenrath

­ undesverfassungsgerichts den Einsatz deutscher Truppen im Rah-

B
men und nach den Regeln eines Systems gegenseitiger kollektiver
Sicherheit erlaubt.7
Es ist eine den historischen Erfahrungen geschuldete Besonderheit
des deutschen Grundgesetzes, den Einsatz der deutschen Streitkräfte
an bestimmte Voraussetzungen zu knüpfen. Sie führen nach Auffas-
sung der Bundesregierung dazu, dass es der Deutschen Marine nicht
generell erlaubt ist, sich an der Bekämpfung der Piraterie zu beteiligen,
die ja keineswegs auf die Seegebiete vor den Küsten Somalias begrenzt
ist. Nur bei einem unmittelbar bevorstehenden oder laufenden Angriff
auf ein Handelsschiff oder ein deutsches Kriegsschiff darf die Deutsche
Marine bewaffnete Nothilfe leisten bzw. in Notwehr gegen Piraten vor-
gehen.8 Diese dürfen somit weder verfolgt noch festgenommen wer-
den; auch die Befreiung eines Handelsschiffes aus der Hand der Piraten
ist danach nicht erlaubt.
Dieser Rechtsauffassung ist Rüdiger Wolfrum entgegengetreten.9
Er sieht darin eine Fehlinterpretation des Art. 87a Abs. 2 GG und eine
Vernachlässigung der Verpflichtung aus Art. 100 des Seerechtsüber-
einkommens der Vereinten Nationen (SRÜ),10 wonach „alle Staaten …
in größtmöglichem Maße zusammen[arbeiten], um die Seeräuberei
auf Hoher See und an jedem anderen Ort zu bekämpfen, der keiner
Hoheitsgewalt untersteht“. Erfolg ist ihm mit seiner Argumentation in
der deutschen Staatspraxis und der rechtswissenschaftlichen Literatur
bislang nicht beschieden. Zu Unrecht, wie in diesem Beitrag gezeigt
werden soll, der sich auf die verfassungsrechtliche Zulässigkeit unilate-
raler Pirateriebekämpfung beschränkt.
Lohnend wäre zwar auch eine Befassung mit den verfassungsrecht-
lichen Grundlagen für ein gemeinschaftliches Vorgehen gegen Piraten
und insbesondere mit dem Mandat für die Mission Atalanta der EU.
Hat doch das Bundesverfassungsgericht im Lissabon-Urteil dieser
Organisation im derzeitigen Stadium – basierend auf einer fehlerhaf-
ten Vorstellung über die Funktionsweise von Systemen gegenseitiger

    7
BVerfGE 90, 286 (345 ff.).
    8
Antwort der Bundesregierung auf eine Kleine Anfrage, BT-Drucks. 16/9286, 3; in
diesem Sinne auch A. v. Arnauld, Die moderne Piraterie und das Völkerrecht, 47
Archiv des Völkerrechts (ArchVR) 454, 465 (2009).
    9
R. Wolfrum, Terrorismus-Bekämpfung auf See, 140 Hansa International Mari-
time Journal 12, 14 f. (2003).
10
Übereinkommen vom 10. Dezember 1982, BGBl. 1994 II, 1799.
 pirateriebekämpfung durch die deutsche marine1937

k­ ollektiver Sicherheit – die Eigenschaft eines solchen Systems abge-

sprochen11 und den verfassungsrechtlichen Boden der Atalanta-Mis-
sion damit schwankend werden lassen. Eine erneute Thematisierung
verdiente aber schon die Annahme aus dem AWACS-, Adria-, Soma-
lia-Urteil, dass mit solchen Systemen die potentielle Anwendung mili-
tärischer Gewalt verbunden sei und alle Staaten innerhalb des Systems
zu derartigen Friedenseinsätzen bereit sein müssten.12 Die Organisa-
tion für Sicherheit und Zusammenarbeit in Europa (OSZE) etwa
kommt ohne militärische Zwangsmittel aus,13 und die Vereinten Nati-
onen verlangen nicht von allen Mitgliedstaaten die Gestellung von
Truppen, vielmehr gehen dem gesonderte und freiwillig abzuschlie-
ßende Vereinbarungen voraus (Art. 43 UN-Charta).14 Eine Diskussion
dieser Themen muss hier aber aus Platzgründen unterbleiben.

11
BVerfGE 123, 267 (425); zu Recht a. A. D. König, Der Einsatz von Seestreitkräften
zur Verhinderung von Terrorismus und Verbreitung von Massenvernichtungswaffen
sowie zur Bekämpfung der Piraterie: Mandat und Eingriffsmöglichkeiten, in:
A. Zimmermann/S. Hobe/K. Odendahl/E.-M. Kieninger/D. König/T. Marauhn/
K. Thorn/K. Schmalenbach (Hrsg.), Moderne Konfliktformen: Humanitäres
Völkerrecht und privatrechtliche Folgen, 44 Berichte der Deutschen Gesellschaft für
Völkerrecht (BerDGV) 203, 230 f. (2010); D. Wiefelspütz, Die Beteiligung der
Bundeswehr am Kampf gegen Piraterie, Neue Zeitschrift für Wehrrecht (NZWehrr)
133, 136 (2009); das Bundesverfassungsgericht geht offenbar davon aus, dass ein
System gegenseitiger kollektiver Sicherheit über eine integrierte Streitmacht unter
einem einheitlichen Oberbefehl verfügen müsse, die in der EU in der Tat erst noch
als „gemeinsame Verteidigung“ (dazu R. Geiger, in: R. Geiger/D.-E. Khan/M. Kotzur,
EUV/AEUV Kommentar, Art. 42 EUV, Rn. 9 (5. Aufl. 2010)) durch einstimmi-
gen Beschluss gemäß Art. 42 Abs. 2 UAbs. 1 Satz 2 EUV eingeführt werden müsste. Ein
kollektives Sicherheitssystem setzt aber weder voraus, dass sich alle Mitgliedstaaten an
Militäraktionen beteiligen noch dass diese unter einheitlichem Befehl stattfinden;
Militäraktionen müssen nur gemeinschaftlich beschlossen werden.
12
BVerfGE 90, 286 (345).
13
Zum Status der OSZE als regionaler Abmachung im Sinne von Art. 53
UN-Charta siehe Dokument des Gipfeltreffens von Helsinki (1992), Kap. III Nr. 19
(abgedruckt in: U. Fastenrath (Hrsg.), KSZE/OSZE: Dokumente der Konferenz und
Organisation für Sicherheit und Zusammenarbeit in Europa, (Loseblatt, Stand: März
2010), A.6, 18) und Res. 47/10 der Generalversammlung der Vereinten Nationen
vom 28. Oktober 1992; zum Ausschluss von Zwangsmaßnahmen seitens der OSZE
siehe Helsinki-Dokument, Kap. III Nr. 22 (Fastenrath, A.6, 19). Insgesamt zur OSZE
U. Fastenrath/K. Weigelt, Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe
(OSCE), in: R. Wolfrum (Hrsg.), The Max Planck Encyclopedia of Public International
Law, Oxford University Press (2008), online edition http://www.mpepil.com; zur
Einstufung der OSZE als System gegenseitiger kollektiver Sicherheit siehe M. Schultz,
Die Auslandsentsendung von Bundeswehr und Bundesgrenzschutz zum Zwecke der
Friedenswahrung und Verteidigung, 177 (1998).
14
Dazu J. A. Frowein/N. Krisch, in: B. Simma (Hrsg.), The Charter of the United
Nations: A Commentary, Bd. I, Art. 43, Rn. 6, 11 (2. Aufl. 2002).
1938 ulrich fastenrath

Wegen der Völkerrechtsfreundlichkeit des Grundgesetzes, die des-

sen Auslegung im Lichte des Völkerrechts gebietet,15 aber auch um die
verfassungsrechtliche Problematik besser einordnen zu können, bedarf
es jedoch zu Beginn eines kurzen Blickes auf die Völkerrechtslage
bezüglich der Bekämpfung von Piraten.

B. Der völkerrechtliche Rahmen der Pirateriebekämpfung

Seit alters her gelten Piraten als hostes humani generis,16 die auf Hoher
See und keiner Hoheitsgewalt unterstehenden Gebieten von Kriegs-
und sonstigen Staatsschiffen bekämpft werden dürfen. Seeräuberschiffe
und von Seeräubern erbeutete Schiffe können aufgebracht und die dort
befindlichen Vermögenswerte beschlagnahmt, die Piraten festgenom-
men und der Strafjustiz überantwortet werden. Dies ist gesichertes
Völkergewohnheitsrecht, das sich in Art. 105 und 107 des UN-See-
rechtsübereinkommens kodifiziert wiederfindet.
Auch wenn mit dem Begriff „hostis“ insinuiert werden sollte, dass
sich die Staaten im Kriegszustand mit den Piraten befinden,17 ist das
Humanitäre Völkerrecht insoweit nicht anwendbar.18 Piraten sind
Zivilpersonen, die Straftaten begehen und gegen die unter Beachtung
der international geltenden Menschenrechte vorzugehen ist.19 Das
schränkt den Einsatz von Waffengewalt ein, schließt ihn aber auch jen-
seits von Notwehr- und Nothilfesituationen nicht notwendig aus.20

15
BVerfGE 111, 307 (317 f.); 112, 1 (25 f.); U. Fastenrath, Menschenrechtliche
Verträge im deutschen Recht – zum Urteil des Bundesverwaltungsgerichts zur
Vereinbarkeit der Studiengebühren mit dem Recht auf Bildung (Art. 13 Abs. 2 Buchst.
c Sozialpakt), in: M. Wittinger/R. Wendt/G. Ress (Hrsg.) Verfassung – Völkerrecht –
Kulturgüterschutz, Festschrift für Wilfried Fiedler, 53, 66 ff. (2011); M. Payandeh,
Völkerrechtsfreundlichkeit als Verfassungsprinzip – Ein Beitrag des Grundgesetzes
zur Einheit von Völkerrecht und nationalem Recht, 57 JöR 464, 465 ff. (2009).
16
Vgl. M. T. Cicero, De officiis, Dritter Teil, para. 107: “pirata est communis hostis
omnium”.
17
A. P. Rubin, Piracy, in: R. Bernhardt (Hrsg.), Encyclopedia of Public International
Law, Vol. 3, 1036 (1997).
18
A. Proelß, in: W. Graf Vitzthum (Hrsg.), Völkerrecht, Rn. 64 (5. Aufl. 2010);
T. Treves, Piracy, Law of the Sea, and Use of Force: Developments off the Coast of
Somalia, 20 European Journal of International Law (EJIL) 399, 412 (2009).
19
v. Arnauld (Fn. 8), 471 ff.; A. Fischer-Lescano/L. Kreck, Piraterie und Menschen-
rechte, 47 ArchVR 481, 483 ff. (2009); D. Guilfoyle, Counter-Piracy Law Enforcement
and Human Rights, 59 International and Comparative Law Quarterly (ICLQ) 141,
152 ff. (2010); Treves (Fn. 18), 413.
20
Dazu ITLOS M/V “SAIGA” (No. 2) Case (Saint Vincent and the Grenadines v.
Guinea), Judgment, ITLOS Reports 1999, 7 ff., para. 155; v. Arnauld (Fn. 8), 466 ff.;
König (Fn. 11), 225 f.; Treves (Fn. 18), 417 ff.
 pirateriebekämpfung durch die deutsche marine1939

Dementsprechend lässt das Mandat der Operation Atalanta die

„erforderlichen Maßnahmen, einschließlich des Einsatzes von Gewalt
zur Abschreckung, Verhütung und Beendigung von seeräuberischen
Handlungen“ zu.21 Das Versenken eines Seeräuberschiffes ist, mag es
in früheren Jahrhunderten auch so üblich gewesen sein, schon nach
Art. 105 des UN-Seerechtsübereinkommens grundsätzlich unzulässig.
Die Bekämpfung der Piraterie auf Hoher See ist freilich nur ein
Recht aller Staaten, aber trotz der Verpflichtung zur Zusammenarbeit
in dieser Sache aus Art. 100 SRÜ keine Pflicht. Aus dieser Bestimmung
lässt sich nur das Verbot ableiten, mit den Piraten zusammenzuarbei-
ten oder sie zu unterstützen, nicht aber das Gebot, ihnen aktiv entge-
gentreten zu müssen.22 Zumindest ist bislang keine Staatenpraxis
erkennbar, Art. 100 in diesem Sinne zu deuten. Eine Bekämpfungs-
pflicht ergibt sich weiterhin nicht aus dem Übereinkommen zur
Bekämpfung widerrechtlicher Handlungen gegen die Sicherheit der
Seeschifffahrt und seiner Protokolle,23 da dort nur die Strafverfolgung
nach dem Weltrechtsprinzip geregelt ist, sofern ein Staat der Piraten
habhaft wird. Eine Verpflichtung zur Hilfeleistung ergibt sich aus Art.
98 SRÜ lediglich im Fall eines bevorstehenden oder andauernden Pira-
tenangriffs, um die auf dem angegriffenen Schiff befindlichen Perso-
nen aus ihrer Lebensgefahr zu befreien.

C. Der Anwendungsbereich von Art. 87a Abs. 1 und 2 GG

Da in diesem Beitrag nur das unilaterale Vorgehen der Deutschen

Marine gegen Piraten behandelt werden soll, scheidet Art. 24 Abs. 2
GG als verfassungsrechtliche Grundlage ebenso aus wie Art. 23 Abs. 1
Satz 1 und 24 Abs. 1 GG, die nach Auffassung des Bundesverfassungs-
gerichts ohnehin nicht in Betracht kommen, da die Streitkräfte nicht in

21
Art. 2 Buchst. d und e der Gemeinsamen Aktion (Fn. 1); näher zu den zugelasse-
nen Maßnahmen König (Fn. 11), 229 f.
22
R. Wolfrum, Hohe See und Tiefseeboden, in: W. Graf Vitzthum (Hrsg.), Hand-
buch des Seerechts, 287, 307 (2006); weniger zurückhaltend Wolfrum (Fn. 9), 13; R.
Wolfrum, Diskussionsbeitrag, in: Zimmermann u. a. (Fn. 11), 282 f.; zumindest Ver-
pflichtungen für die betroffenen Küstenstaaten nimmt König (Fn. 11), 226, an. Die
„Naples Declaration on Piracy“ des Institut de Droit international (74. Session 2010)
formuliert lediglich eine Aufforderung an die Staaten, sich auf ein gemeinsames Vor-
gehen zu verständigen, abgedruckt in: 48 ArchVR 269 f. (2010).
23
Übereinkommen und Protokoll vom 13. März 1988, BGBl. 1990 II, 496, 508; zwei
weitere, nicht die Piraterie betreffende Protokolle aus dem Jahr 2005 sind von der Bun-
desrepublik Deutschland noch nicht ratifiziert worden.
1940 ulrich fastenrath

einer Weise supranational integriert werden dürften, dass sie der

demokratischen Verantwortlichkeit gegenüber dem deutschen Souve-
rän entzogen wären.24 Im Zentrum der Diskussion um unilaterale Ein-
sätze der Bundeswehr außerhalb Deutschlands steht Art. 87a GG, der
solche Einsätze sowohl legitimiert als auch zugleich begrenzt. Nach
dessen Absatz 1 Satz 1 stellt der Bund Streitkräfte zur Verteidigung auf,
während Absatz 2 vorschreibt, dass sie „außer zur Verteidigung … nur
eingesetzt werden, soweit das Grundgesetz es ausdrücklich zulässt“.
Alle Bestimmungen, die die sonstige Inanspruchnahme der Bundes-
wehr regeln (Art. 35 Abs. 2 Satz 2 und Abs. 3, Art. 87a Abs. 3 und 4
GG), betreffen Inlandsverwendungen, gelten also ersichtlich nicht für
die Bekämpfung von Piraten auf Hoher See und können hier deshalb
außer Betracht bleiben. Weiterhin kann die Frage unberücksichtigt
bleiben, ob sich die Zulässigkeit von unilateralen Einsätzen aus Art.
87a Abs. 1 Satz 125 oder Art. 87a Abs. 2 GG26 ergibt. Im Hinblick auf
den Anwendungsbereich von Art. 87a GG sind jedoch die Begriffe der
Verteidigung und des Einsatzes zu klären. Vorab ist aber die Streitfrage
zu beantworten, ob der Verfassungsvorbehalt des Art. 87a Abs. 2 GG
überhaupt für Auslandsverwendungen gilt.

I. Geltung von Art. 87a Abs. 2 GG für Auslandsverwendungen

Für einen territorial begrenzten Regelungsgehalt von Art. 87a Abs. 2
GG werden insbesondere historische und systematische Gründe aufge-
führt.27 Die Bestimmung sei mit der Notstandsverfassung28 in das
Grundgesetz eingefügt worden und habe den alten Art. 143 abgelöst,
der sich auf den Streitkräfteeinsatz bei einem inneren Notstand bezog.
Weiterhin sei im Verlauf der Debatten um diese Verfassungsänderung

24
BVerfGE 123, 267 (360 f.).
25
So O. Depenheuer, in: T. Maunz/G. Dürig, Kommentar zum Grundgesetz, Art.
87a, Rn. 101 (Loseblatt, Stand: Okt. 2010).
26
So etwa B. Grzeszick, in: K. H. Friauf/W. Höfling, Berliner Kommentar zum
Grundgesetz, Art. 87a, Rn. 17 (Loseblatt, Stand: Jan. 2011).
27
Vgl. F. Kirchhof, in: J. Isensee/P. Kirchhof (Hrsg.), Handbuch des Staatsrechts,
Bd. IV, § 84: Verteidigung und Bundeswehr, Rn. 57 (3. Aufl. 2006); S. Oeter, Einsatzar-
ten der Streitkräfte außer zur Verteidigung, NZWehrr 89, 93 (2000); G. Robbers, Die
Befugnisse der Bundeswehr im Katastrophenfall, Die Öffentliche Verwaltung (DÖV)
926, 931 (1989); T. Stein, Die verfassungsrechtliche Zulässigkeit einer Beteiligung
der Bundesrepublik Deutschland an Friedenstruppen der Vereinten Nationen, in:
J. A. Frowein/T. Stein (Hrsg.), Rechtliche Aspekte einer Beteiligung der Bundesrepub-
lik Deutschland an Friedenstruppen der Vereinten Nationen, 17, 22 ff. (1990).
28
17. Gesetz zur Ergänzung des Grundgesetzes, BGBl. 1968 I, 709.
 pirateriebekämpfung durch die deutsche marine1941

stets nur von einer Verwendung der Streitkräfte im Innern die Rede
gewesen. Allein dies sei die – aus den geschichtlichen Erfahrungen
Deutschlands heraus – regelungsbedürftige Ausnahme gewesen, wäh-
rend der nach außen gerichtete Einsatz die selbstverständliche Regel
sei. Dementsprechend beträfen alle Sonderregelungen die interne
Inanspruchnahme der Bundeswehr.
Im Wortlaut des Art. 87a Abs. 2 GG findet diese Auffassung jedoch
keine Stütze. Dort ist in Abweichung von der ursprünglich vorgeschla-
genen Fassung mit getrennten Regelungen für den Einsatz: im Innern
Art. 91 und bei äußerer Gefahr Art. 115a,29 ganz allgemein von Einsät-
zen der Bundeswehr die Rede, und mit den Einsätzen zur Verteidigung
wird sogar auf eine (zumindest mögliche) Auslandsverwendung Bezug
genommen. Denn militärische Verteidigung ist nicht allein Grenzsi-
cherung; zu allen Zeiten sind Kriege in das Land des Gegners hinein-
getragen worden. Die historische Verantwortung Deutschlands spricht
auch keineswegs dafür, nur beim Truppeneinsatz im Innern Zurück-
haltung zu üben und sich im Außenverhältnis mit dem Verbot des
Angriffskrieges aus Art. 26 GG zu begnügen. Es ist deshalb mehr als
fraglich, einen derartigen Regelungszweck zu unterstellen.30 Schließ-
lich überzeugen die Argumente für den begrenzten Anwendungsbe-
reich der Norm aus deren Entstehungsgeschichte heraus nicht.
Politische Debatten beziehen sich auf realpolitische Szenarien. Im Jahr
1968, als die Notstandsverfassung in Kraft trat, herrschte noch der
Kalte Krieg, und die beiden deutschen Staaten waren nicht Mitglied
der Vereinten Nationen. Ein Auslandseinsatz der Bundeswehr jenseits
des Verteidigungs- und Bündnisfalls war damals völlig außerhalb der
politischen Vorstellungswelt, weshalb hierüber keine verfassungspoli-
tischen Diskussionen geführt wurden und hierfür erst recht keine ver-
fassungsrechtliche Vorsorge getroffen werden musste. Auch blieb
nach dem Beitritt zu den Vereinten Nationen die Beteiligung an Blau-
helm-Einsätzen theoretischer Natur, was erklärt, warum sie nur in der

29
BT-Drucks. V/1879, 3.
30
 Für eine Geltung des Art. 87a Abs. 2 GG auch für Auslandseinsätze u. a. V. Epping,
Die Evakuierung deutscher Staatsbürger im Ausland als neues Kapitel der Bundes-
wehrgeschichte ohne rechtliche Grundlage, 124 Archiv des öffentlichen Rechts (AöR)
423, 430 ff. (1999); W. Heun, in: H. Dreier (Hrsg.), GG, Bd. III, Art. 87a, Rn. 17 (2. Aufl.
2008); E. Klein, Rechtsprobleme der deutschen Beteiligung an der Aufstellung von
Streitkräften der Vereinten Nationen, 34 Zeitschrift für ausländisches Recht und Völ-
kerrecht (ZaöRV) 429, 432 (1974); K. Stern, Das Staatsrecht der Bundesrepublik
Deutschland, Bd. II, 1477 f. (1980).
1942 ulrich fastenrath

Wissenschaft zum Thema wurden.31 Erst nach der Wiedervereinigung

Deutschlands beschäftigte sich die Politik mit Auslandseinsätzen der
Bundeswehr und ließ sie Realität werden. Da sie aber durchweg – mit
Ausnahme der Aktion Libelle in Albanien und jüngst der Operation
Pegasus in Libyen32 – gemeinschaftlich mit verbündeten Streitkräften
im Rahmen kollektiver Sicherheitssysteme durchgeführt wurden und
das Bundesverfassungsgericht hierfür eine verfassungsrechtliche
Grundlage in Art. 24 Abs. 2 GG fand,33 fehlte es an der Notwendigkeit,
das Grundgesetz an die neuen politischen Bedürfnisse anzupassen
oder die Reichweite von Art. 87a Abs. 2 GG zu klären.
Das Bundesverfassungsgericht selbst hat diese Streitfrage bislang
offen gelassen.34 Es hätte seine Begründung für die Zulässigkeit der
Beteiligung der Bundeswehr an der Seeüberwachung des Waffen- und
Handelsembargos gegen die Föderative Republik Jugoslawien in der
Adria, der Überwachung des Flugverbots im Luftraum von Bosnien-
Herzegowina durch AWACS-Fernaufklärer und dem Blauhelm-Ein-
satz in Somalia zwar wesentlich vereinfachen und verkürzen können,
wenn im Senat eine Einigung darüber zustande gekommen wäre, dass
sich Art. 87a Abs. 2 GG nur auf Inlandseinsätze bezieht. Angesichts des
ausdrücklichen Hinweises, über den Anwendungsbereich dieser
Bestimmungen nicht entschieden worden, ist freilich der Umkehr-
schluss nicht möglich, der Senat sei – implizit – von einem umfassen-
den Regelungsgehalt einschließlich der Auslandseinsätze ausgegangen.
Wortlaut und Regelungszweck von Art. 87a Abs. 2 GG sprechen aller-
dings dafür und seine Entstehungsgeschichte nicht dagegen. Auch die
Bedeutung der Materie, die schicksalhaft für das ganze Volk sein kann,
lässt vermuten, dass sie im Grundgesetz selbst geregelt ist und nicht
dem einfachen Gesetzgeber oder gar der Regierung im gesetzesfreien
Raum überlassen bleibt.

II. „Zur Verteidigung“

Die besseren Gründe streiten somit dafür, den Geltungsbereich von
Art. 87a Abs. 2 GG auf Auslandseinsätze zu erstrecken, so dass es für

31
Vgl. Klein (Fn. 30).
32
Siehe zur Aktion Libelle Epping (Fn. 30), zur Operation Pegasus „Flug ins Krisen-
gebiet“, Bundeswehr aktuell, 47. Jahrgang, Nr. 9 vom 7. März 2011, S. 6; die Opera­
tion Pegasus ist inzwischen Gegenstand eines Organstreitverfahrens vor dem
Bundesverfassungsgericht.
33
BVerfGE 90, 286 (345 ff.).
34
Id., 355.
 pirateriebekämpfung durch die deutsche marine1943

die Zulässigkeit der Pirateriebekämpfung durch die Bundeswehr auf

die sachliche Reichweite des dort verankerten Verfassungsvorbehalts
ankommt.
Zweifellos ist ein Einsatz von Einheiten der Bundeswehr zulässig,
wenn die Voraussetzungen des Verteidigungsfalls gemäß Art. 115a
Abs. 1 GG vorliegen, also bei einem (drohenden) Angriff auf das Gebiet
der Bundesrepublik Deutschland. Weithin wird auch der Bündnisfall
im Rahmen der NATO35 – neuerdings müsste das auch im Rahmen der
Gemeinsamen Sicherheits- und Verteidigungspolitik der EU gelten
(Art. 42 Abs. 7 EUV i. d. F. des Lissabonner Vertrags) – als Auslöser
von Verteidigungseinsätzen anerkannt, obwohl insoweit als Rechts-
grundlage auch Art. 24 Abs. 2 GG in Betracht käme. Ein Angriff liegt
dabei nicht nur bei einem Einmarsch in fremdes Territorium oder bei
dessen Bombardierung vor; er kann auch bei einem Beschuss oder der
Übernahme der Kontrolle von Kriegsschiffen oder Militärflugzeugen
gegeben sein.36 Dennoch sind Angriffe von Piraten, selbst wenn sie –
versehentlich – auf Kriegsschiffe erfolgen, keine Angriffe im Sinne der
genannten Bestimmungen. Der Verteidigungs- und der Bündnisfall
nehmen Bezug auf eine Verletzung des völkerrechtlichen Gewaltver-
bots sowie das individuelle und kollektive Selbstverteidigungsrecht.
Hält man daran fest, dass dieses nur in zwischenstaatlichen Rechtsbe-
ziehungen gilt,37 sind die Piraten schon keine tauglichen Subjekte, die
mit der gewaltsamen Erbeutung von Schiffen das Selbstverteidigungs-
recht auslösen könnten. Geht man hingegen davon aus, auch ein von
nichtstaatlichen Gruppierungen durchgeführter Angriff könne das
Verteidigungsrecht auslösen – die NATO hat 2001 den Bündnisfall
ausgerufen, ohne einen staatlichen Verursacher für die Terrorakte des
11. September zu benennen38 –, so fehlt es den Aktionen der Piraten
doch jedenfalls an der für einen Angriff notwendigen Intensität.39

35
Vgl. BVerfGE 90, 286 (387); T. Giegerich, The German Contribution to the
Protection of Shipping in the Persian Gulf: Staying out for Political or Constituti­
onal Reasons?, 49 ZaöRV 1, 19 f. (1989); H. Kind, Einsatz der Streitkräfte zur
Verteidigung – Ein Beitrag zur entstehungsgeschichtlichen Interpretation des Art. 87a
GG, DÖV 139, 145 (1993); J. Wieland, Verfassungsrechtliche Grundlagen und Grenzen
für einen Einsatz der Bundeswehr, Deutsches Verwaltungsblatt (DVBl) 1174, 1179
(1991).
36
Vgl. Art. 3 Buchst. d) der Res. 3314 der Generalversammlung der Vereinten Nati-
onen (Aggressionsdefinition). Keinesfalls gilt dies jedoch im Hinblick auf die Handels-
flotte, siehe S. Schiedermair, Piratenjagd im Golf von Aden, 128 AöR 185, 214 (2003).
37
So z. B. M. Bothe, in: Graf Vitzthum (Hrsg.), Völkerrecht, Rn. 11 (5. Aufl. 2010).
38
Beschluss vom 12. September 2001 (NATO Press Release [2001] 124).
39
IGH, Military and Paramilitary Activities in and against Nicaragua (Nicaragua v.
United States of America) Merits, Judgment, I.C.J. Reports 1986, 14, Rn. 191 ff., 211,
1944 ulrich fastenrath

Der Begriff der Verteidigung in Art. 87a GG ist freilich nicht not-
wendig auf die Abwehr von Angriffen im völkerrechtlichen Sinne
beschränkt.40 Selbst bei weitester Auslegung, wonach auch Angriffe auf
deutsche Staatsangehörige und deren Eigentum verteidigungsfähig
sind,41 bliebe die Deutsche Marine aber auf den Schutz deutscher See-
leute und Passagiere sowie von Schiffen unter deutscher Flagge oder in
deutschem Eigentum beschränkt, könnte sich aber nicht in vollem
Umfang an der völkerrechtlich zulässigen Pirateriebekämpfung betei-
ligen, die nicht nach der Nationalität von Tätern und Opfern fragt und
nicht auf eine unmittelbare Gefährdung von Rechtsgütern abstellt.
Eine reine Interessenverteidigung, das deutsche Interesse an der
Sicherheit der Seewege, ist nach einhelliger Auffassung keine Verteidi-
gung im Sinne von Art. 87a GG. Die deutschen Streitkräfte haben kein
Mandat zur Weltpolizei.42

III. „Einsatz“
Fällt also die Pirateriebekämpfung selbst bei einem weiten Verständnis
in der Regel nicht unter den Verteidigungsbegriff, so hängt die Zuläs-
sigkeit einer Beteiligung der Deutschen Marine daran im Hinblick auf
Art. 87a GG davon ab, ob es sich dabei um einen Einsatz im Sinne
dieser Bestimmung handelt.

1. Die Unterscheidung zwischen grundsätzlich unzulässigen Einsätzen

und zulässigen Verwendungen
Es herrscht weitgehend Einigkeit darüber, dass nicht jede Tätigkeit
der Bundeswehr ein Einsatz ist.43 Vielmehr wird diesem Begriff
derjenige der „Verwendung“ gegenübergestellt oder als Oberbegriff
übergeordnet, sodass der Einsatz als qualifizierte Form der Verwen-
dung erscheint. Unter solchen Verwendungen werden etwa die Mit-
wirkung an repräsentativen Veranstaltungen wie Ehrenformationen

249; IGH, Oil Platforms (Islamic Republic of Iran v. United States of America),
Judgment, ICJ Reports 2003, 161, Rn. 51, 64, 72; Bothe (Fn. 37), Rn. 19; i. E. ebenso
Wiefelspütz (Fn. 11), 136, 149.
40
Ausführlich zum Verteidigungsbegriff D. Wiefelspütz, Der Einsatz bewaffneter
deutscher Streitkräfte im Ausland, 132 AöR 44, 55 ff. (2007).
41
So Depenheuer (Fn. 25), Rn. 108 ff.
42
Id., Rn. 116 ff.
43
A. A. B. K. W. Bähr, Verfassungsmäßigkeit des Einsatzes der Bundeswehr im Rah-
men der Vereinten Nationen, Zeitschrift für Rechtspolitik (ZRP) 97, 100 f. (1994).
 pirateriebekämpfung durch die deutsche marine1945

bei Staatsempfängen, das Auftreten des Musikkorps bei festlichen

Anlässen, Flottenbesuche und Ähnliches verstanden.44 Dazu zählt wei-
terhin die rein technisch-karitative Hilfe bei Unglücksfällen (etwa die
Beteiligung der Bundeswehr an der Seenotrettung auf Nord- und Ost-
see) oder bei Naturkatastrophen (die freilich für Inlandsverwendun-
gen gesondert in Art. 35 Abs. 3 GG geregelt ist). Sofern ein anderer
Staat darum bittet, kann die Bundeswehr insoweit auch im Ausland
tätig werden und etwa bei der Wiederherstellung von Straßen und
Brücken, mit Transportdienstleistungen und Feldlazaretten helfen.45
Schließlich ist auch der interne Dienstbetrieb bis hin zu Manövern
kein Einsatz im Sinne von Art. 87a GG, unabhängig davon, ob er im
In- oder Ausland stattfindet. Dies gilt selbst dann, wenn von Übungen
außerhalb militärischer Liegenschaften oder von der Anwendung
unmittelbaren Zwangs bis hin zum Schusswaffengebrauch gemäß
dem – allerdings nur auf deutschem Territorium geltenden – Gesetz
über die Anwendung unmittelbaren Zwanges und die Ausübung
besonderer Befugnisse der Bundeswehr und verbündeter Streitkräfte
sowie ziviler Wachpersonen (UZwGBw)46 innerhalb oder außerhalb
militärischer Sicherheitsbereiche Personen betroffen sind, die nicht
der Bundeswehr angehören.
Es ist demnach irreführend, wenn allgemein angenommen wird,
ein Einsatz liege immer dann vor, wenn die Streitkräfte als bewaff-
nete Gewalt auftreten,47 bei funktionsgerechter Verwendung mili­
tärischer Befehlsgewalt unterliegen48 oder ihnen Anordnungs- und

44
So schon BT-Drucks. V/2783, 13.
45
Vgl. Grzeszick (Fn. 26), Rn. 20; Heun (Fn. 30), Rn. 15; A. Randelzhofer, in Maunz/
Dürig (Fn. 25), Art. 24 Abs. 2 Rn. 60; T. M. Wagner, Parlamentsvorbehalt und Parla-
mentsbeteiligungsgesetz: Die Beteiligung des Bundestages bei Auslandseinsätzen der
Bundeswehr, 53 (2010); siehe auch BVerfGE 90, 286 (388).
46
BGBl. 1965 I, 796, zuletzt geändert durch Gesetz vom 21. Dezember 2007,
BGBl. I, 3198; zum polizeilichen Charakter von Maßnahmen auf der Grundlage
des UZwGBw siehe A. Schott, Brauchen wir eine einfachgesetzliche Regelung für
die Mandatserfüllung mit militärischen Mitteln in den Auslandseinsätzen der Bundes-
wehr?, in: D. Weingärtner (Hrsg.), Die Bundeswehr als Armee im Einsatz,
79, 81 (2010).
47
So etwa Depenheuer (Fn. 25), Rn. 170; Grzeszick (Fn. 26), Rn. 20; ähnlich V.
Epping, in: V. Epping/C. Hillgruber (Hrsg.), Grundgesetz Kommentar, Art. 87a, Rn. 17
(2009); K.-A. Hernekamp, in: I. v. Münch/P. Kunig (Hrsg.), GG-Kommentar, Art. 87a,
Rn. 13 (5. Aufl. 2003); J. Kokott, in: M. Sachs, Grundgesetz Kommentar, Art. 87a,
Rn. 15 (5. Aufl. 2009); G. Nolte, Bundeswehreinsätze in kollektiven Sicherheitssyste-
men, 54 ZaöRV 652, 678 (1994); M. Wild, Verfassungsrechtliche Möglichkeiten und
Grenzen für Auslandseinsätze der Bundeswehr nach dem Kosovo-Krieg–Versuch
einer Systematisierung, DÖV 622, 624 (2000).
48
Randelzhofer (Fn. 45), Rn. 62 Fn. 126.
1946 ulrich fastenrath

Zwangsbefugnisse zustehen.49 Ein erster Ansatz für diese Auffassung

findet sich bereits im Gesetzgebungsverfahren zur Einfügung des Art.
87a in das Grundgesetz. Der zweite Entwurf der Notstandsverfassung
von 1963 (sog. Höcherl-Entwurf) differenzierte in Art. 115 l Abs. 3
Satz 1 zwischen bewaffneten und unbewaffneten Einsätzen der Streit-
kräfte,50 und der Bericht des Rechtsausschusses des Bundestages will
„Einsatz“ im Sinne von „Verwendung als Mittel der vollziehenden
Gewalt“ verstanden wissen.51 Dem folgt auch der Sprachgebrauch in
Art. 35 Abs. 3 Satz 1 GG, wonach die Streitkräfte zur Unterstützung der
Polizeikräfte eingesetzt werden können. Da aber gewiss der normale
Wachdienst der Bundeswehr nicht in Frage gestellt werden soll, sind
diese Definitionen zu grobmaschig. So wird zum Teil zusätzlich darauf
abgehoben, ob die Streitkräfte „unter Nutzung ihrer besonderen mili-
tärischen Organisationsstruktur und unter Nutzung der ihnen diesbe-
züglich zur Verfügung stehenden Mittel hoheitlich tätig werden“52
oder – allein bezogen auf den Streitkräfteeinsatz in Innern – die innen-
politische Neutralität der Streitkräfte berührt ist.

2. Unterschiedlicher Einsatzbegriff für In- und Auslandseinsätze

Es ist jedoch fragwürdig, für Inlands- wie Auslandseinsätze dieselben
begrifflichen Abgrenzungskriterien verwenden zu wollen.53 Dafür ist
die rechtliche Situation zu unterschiedlich. Bei Einsätzen im Innern
geht es um die Zuständigkeitsverteilung zwischen Bund und Ländern
bei der Gewährleistung der inneren Sicherheit und – von ausdrücklich
in den Art. 35 Abs. 2 und 3 sowie 87a Abs. 3 und 4 GG genannten Aus-
nahmen abgesehen – den Ausschluss der Bundeswehr als innerstaatli-
chen Machtfaktor in der Hand der Bundesregierung.54 Nach außen hin
stehen bei Einsätzen der Bundeswehr die Entscheidung über Krieg und

49
K. Braun/T. Plate, Rechtsfragen der Bekämpfung der Piraterie im Golf von Aden
durch die Bundesmarine: Wahrnehmung originär polizeilicher Aufgaben durch das
Militär?, DÖV 203, 205 f. (2010); J.-P. Fiebig, Der Einsatz der Bundeswehr im Innern:
verfassungsrechtliche Zulässigkeit von innerstaatlichen Verwendungen der Streitkräfte
bei Großveranstaltungen und terroristischen Bedrohungen, 109 (2004).
50
BT-Drucks. IV/891, 1 ff.
51
BT-Drucks. V/2783, 13.
52
K. Ruge, in: B. Schmidt-Bleibtreu/H. Hofmann/A. Hopfauf (Hrsg.), GG–Kom-
mentar zum Grundgesetz, Art. 87a, Rn. 5 (11. Aufl. 2008); S. Schmahl, Die Bekämp-
fung der Seepiraterie im Spiegel des Völkerrechts, des Europarechts und der deutschen
Rechtsordnung, 136 AöR, 44, 80 (2011).
53
So aber ausdrücklich Schultz (Fn. 13), 177.
54
Stern (Fn. 30), 1477.
 pirateriebekämpfung durch die deutsche marine1947

Frieden55 und sich daraus ergebende Folgerungen für die Zuständig-

keit des Bundestags im Vordergrund.

3. Einsatzbegriff bei Auslandsverwendungen

Zumindest hat das Bundesverfassungsgericht hinsichtlich der Aus-
landseinsätze eine eigenständige Rechtsprechung entwickelt.56 Diese
bezieht sich zwar im engeren Sinne auf den vom Bundesverfassungsge-
richt aus dem Grundgesetz herausgelesenen Parlamentsvorbehalt,
wonach jeglicher Auslandseinsatz einer konstitutiven Zustimmung des
Bundestags bedürfe, was die Bundeswehr zu einem „Parlamentsheer“57
werden lasse. Die materielle Rechtsgrundlage für die Auslandseinsätze
der Bundeswehr hat das Bundesverfassungsgericht hingegen in allen
bisher entschiedenen Fällen in Art. 24 Abs. 2 GG gefunden, so dass für
Art. 87a Abs 2 GG eine gerichtliche Konkretisierung fehlt. Der identi-
sche Regelungszweck für den Verfassungsvorbehalt in Art. 87 a GG
und für den Parlamentsvorbehalt beim Auslandseinsatz der Streit-
kräfte, nämlich die Beschneidung der Exekutivbefugnisse in den exis-
tentiellen Fragen der Friedenserhaltung, sowie die Einbettung des
Parlamentsvorbehalts in die wehrverfassungsrechtlichen Regelungen
des Grundgesetzes58 legen aber nahe, insoweit das gleiche Begriffsver-
ständnis zugrunde zu legen.59 Dafür spricht weiterhin, dass das Bun-
desverfassungsgericht für den Parlamentsvorbehalt den Begriff des
Einsatzes aus Art. 87a Abs. 2 GG übernimmt und eine verfassungs-
rechtliche Regelung nur für bedeutsame Angelegenheiten zu erwar-
ten und sinnvoll ist, nicht aber für beliebige, völkerrechtlich zulässige
Exekutivhandlungen im Ausland.
Legt man die Rechtsprechung des Bundesverfassungsgerichts
zum Zustimmungsvorbehalt auch Art. 87a Abs. 2 GG zugrunde, so
ergibt sich Folgendes: Unter einem „Einsatz von Streitkräften“ sind nur

55
So eindrücklich BVerfGE 121, 135 (153); ähnlich schon BVerfGE 108, 34 (42 f.).
56
Siehe insbesondere BVerfGE 90, 286 (383 ff.); 104, 151 (208); 121, 135 (156 ff.).
57
BVerfGE 90, 286 (382); 121, 135 (154).
58
BVerfGE 90, 286 (381 ff.); vgl. auch R. Wolfrum, Grundgesetz und Außenpoli-
tik, in: S. Schmidt/G. Hellmann/R. Wolf (Hrsg.), Handbuch zur deutschen Außen­
politik, 157, 163 (2007).
59
 C. Hillgruber, in: D. C. Umbach/T. Clemens (Hrsg.), Grundgesetz, Mitarbeiter-
kommentar, Bd. II, Art. 87a, Rn. 34 (2002); Oeter (Fn. 27), 97; R. Schmidt-Radefeldt,
Parlamentarische Kontrolle der internationalen Streitkräfteintegration, 157 f. (2005); a.
A. T. Schaefer, Verfassungsrechtliche Grenzen des Parlamentsbeteiligungsgesetzes, 191
(2005); Wagner (Fn. 45), 53; D. Wiefelspütz, Der Einsatz bewaffneter deutscher Streit-
kräfte und der konstitutive Parlamentsvorbehalt, 32 (2003).
1948 ulrich fastenrath

militärische Einsätze zu verstehen.60 Deren Vorliegen hängt freilich

nicht von eingeräumten Zwangsbefugnissen oder der Ausgestaltung
der Kommandostrukturen ab. Denn die Grenzen für zulässige Siche-
rungsmaßnahmen unter Einsatz von Waffengewalt und die Selbstver-
teidigung, die bei sog. robusten Mandaten inzwischen die gewaltsame
Durchsetzung des Mandats einschließt, sind fließend geworden.61
Zudem ist das politische Eskalations- oder doch Verstrickungspoten-
tial zu beachten: „Jeder Einsatz kann von der begrenzten Einzelaktion
in eine größere und länger währende militärische Auseinandersetzung
münden bis hinein in einen umfänglichen Krieg.“62 Besteht nicht nur
die Möglichkeit, gibt es vielmehr greifbare tatsächliche Anhaltspunkte
dafür, „dass ein Einsatz nach seinem Zweck, den konkreten politischen
und militärischen Umständen sowie den Einsatzbefugnissen in die
Anwendung von Waffengewalt münden kann“63, so handelt es sich von
Beginn an um einen Einsatz der Streitkräfte. Würde man den Beginn
der Kampfhandlungen als relevantes Kriterium für einen Einsatz wäh-
len, könnte die parlamentarische Zustimmung immer erst im Nachhi-
nein erklärt werden und die parlamentarischen Steuerungs- und
Einflussmöglichkeiten wären begrenzt.64 Zudem kommt es nicht not-
wendig darauf an, ob deutsche Soldaten selbst Waffengewalt anwenden
oder Waffen tragen; es genügt, dass sie sich an einer bewaffneten Aus-
einandersetzung in einer Weise beteiligen, die sie – etwa durch Infor-
mationen über Ziele oder durch die bewaffnete Operationen
unmittelbar leitende Aufklärung – in die (drohenden) bewaffneten
Auseinandersetzungen einbezieht. Militärische Einsätze im Hand-
lungsverbund integrierter Streitkräfte ließen sich verfassungsrechtlich
nicht angemessen erfassen, wenn man einzelne Systemkomponenten
und personell getrennte Einsatzfunktionen losgelöst voneinander
betrachtete.65
Bei dieser Argumentation und den dabei herausgearbeiteten Krite-
rien für einen „Einsatz der Streitkräfte“ ist der situative Kontext zu
beachten. In den entschiedenen Fällen ging es jeweils um Einsätze in
fremden Staaten oder Einsätze, die gegen fremde Staaten gerichtet

60
BVerfGE 90, 286 (383).
61
Id., 387 f.
62
BVerfGE 121, 135 (161).
63
Id., 165.
64
Id., 163 f., 167.
65
Id., 168; Epping (Fn. 47), Art. 87a, Rn. 26; Schmidt-Radefeldt (Fn. 59), 164 f.
 pirateriebekämpfung durch die deutsche marine1949

waren (Seeüberwachung, Fernaufklärung aus der Luft). Auch wenn die

Lage ruhig erschien und es eher um show of force als um den Einsatz
bewaffneter Gewalt ging, bestand oder besteht bei solchen Missionen
doch stets die Gefahr, in Kampfhandlungen mit den Streitkräften ande-
rer Staaten, mit Bürgerkriegsparteien oder mit Aufständischen, mögen
sie nun offen oder subversiv agieren, verwickelt zu werden. Von einem
Einsatz als der Teilnahme an einer „bewaffneten Unternehmung“66 ist
also nur dann die Rede, wenn der (potentielle) Gegner ebenfalls mit
militärischen Mitteln vorgeht oder es Anhaltspunkte dafür gibt, dass er
es tun könnte. Erst dadurch bekommt der Einsatz das notwendige
„militärische Gepräge“67. Entscheidend ist, ob die Lage dergestalt ist
oder sich dahin entwickeln könnte, dass das Humanitäre Völkerrecht
anzuwenden ist.68
Es ist freilich zuzugestehen, dass sich das Bundesverfassungsgericht
bei der Charakterisierung von Verwendungen der Bundeswehr im
Innern als militärisch oder zivil-polizeilich weniger von den Umstän-
den als vom äußeren Erscheinungsbild leiten lässt. So hat es im Fall des
Luftsicherheitsgesetzes entschieden, dass die Bundeswehr bei der
Unterstützung der Polizei der Länder gemäß Art. 35 Abs. 2 und 3 GG
keine qualitativ anderen Waffen nutzen dürfe, als sie der Polizei origi-
när zur Verfügung stehen.69 Andernfalls, so könnte man schließen,
bekäme das Auftreten ein „militärisches Gepräge“. Wie gezeigt, über-
zeugt eine Übertragung von Begriffsbildungen für interne auf externe
Verwendungen jedoch nicht. Zudem scheint das Urteil des Bundesver-
fassungsgerichts in seinen Auswirkungen und in seiner Begründung
nicht durchdacht zu sein. Hier bewahrheitet sich einmal mehr der
Satz: Hard cases make bad law. Dies wird deutlich, wenn man anstelle
eines entführten Passagierflugzeugs ein Beispiel wählt, in dem die
Gefahrenabwehr nur Menschenleben schützt, sie aber nicht zugleich
auch fordert. Angenommen, deutsche Terroristen würden von einem
Schiff unter deutscher Flagge im deutschen Küstenmeer eine Rakete
auf das Kernkraftwerk Philippsburg – auf halbem Wege zwischen
Heidelberg, dem Wohnort des Jubilars, und Karlsruhe, dem Sitz des

66
BVerfGE 90, 286 (388); 121, 135 (155); A. Fischer-Lescano, Konstitutiver Parla-
mentsvorbehalt: Wann ist ein AWACS-Einsatz ein „Einsatz bewaffneter Streitkräfte?“,
Neue Zeitschrift für Verwaltungsrecht (NVwZ) 1474 ff. (2003); Nolte (Fn. 47), 678 f.
67
BVerfGE 121, 135 (168).
68
Wagner (Fn. 45), 49 ff.
69
BVerfGE 115, 118 (146 f.).
1950 ulrich fastenrath

Bundesverfassungsgerichts – abfeuern. Mit der vorhandenen Ausrüs-

tung und den ihr zur Verfügung stehenden Waffen könnte keine Poli-
zei der vier bis fünf überquerten Länder etwas dagegen ausrichten. Soll
das Unheil also seinen Lauf nehmen? Oder sollte nicht doch die Bun-
deswehr ihre Abwehrsysteme aktivieren dürfen, um die Rakete in der
Luft zu zerstören?70 Das Beispiel mag sehr fiktiv erscheinen, aber es
gibt auch sehr realitätsnahe, in denen der Ausschluss militärischer
Kampfmittel der Bundeswehr nicht zu überzeugen vermag. Während
des August-Hochwassers der Elbe im Jahr 2002 hatte sich ein Lastkahn
aus der Vertäuung losgerissen und trieb steuerungslos auf die Dresd-
ner Brücken zu, die er wegen des hohen Wasserstandes nicht mehr
unterfahren konnte. Es drohten somit nicht nur erhebliche Schäden an
einer Brücke, sondern zudem eine deutliche Verminderung des Was-
serdurchflusses mit der Folge weiter steigender Fluten, wenn sich der
Lastkahn vor der Brücke verkeilt hätte. Wäre es nicht gelungen, die
Gefahr mit polizeilichen Mitteln zu beseitigen, hätte man dann wirk-
lich auf die Hilfe der Bundeswehr mit ihren Möglichkeiten verzichten
sollen, um den Lastkahn zu zertrümmern? Ein weiteres Beispiel:
Im Jahr 2002 gab es die abgeschlossene Planung für eine neue Straßen-
brücke über die Elbe unterhalb Dresdens, wobei die Straße im Elbtal
auf einem Damm verlaufen sollte. Wäre dieses – später umgeplante –
Vorhaben zum Zeitpunkt des Hochwassers bereits ausgeführt gewe-
sen, hätte sich hier das Wasser gestaut und in Dresden zu einem
deutlich höheren Wasserpegel geführt, so dass noch weit mehr Stadt-
teile überflutet worden wären. Hätte man in dieser Situation zeitrau-
bend und gefährlich Bohrlöcher für Sprengladungen einbringen
sollen, um das Hindernis zu beseitigen, während die Bundeswehr dies
schnell und gefahrlos mit ihrem Waffenarsenal hätte ins Werk setzen
können?
Aber auch die innere Logik der Urteilsbegründung überzeugt nicht.
Es gibt nämlich keine Waffen und Ausrüstung, die von Natur aus (ori-
ginär) militärisch oder polizeilich sind.71 Vielmehr muss die Polizei,
wenn sie auf die Hilfe der Bundeswehr nicht setzen darf, selbst mit
allen notwendigen Waffen und Geräten ausgerüstet werden, um der
staatlichen Schutzpflicht genügen und Gefahren der in den Beispielen

70
In diesem Sinne Kirchhof (Fn. 27), Rn. 64.
71
Die fließenden Übergänge zeigte der bis 1994 geltende § 64 des Bundesgrenz-
schutzgesetzes (BGBl. 1972 I, 2978), nach dem die Angehörigen dieser „Polizei“ des
Bundes mit Ausbruch eines bewaffneten Konfliktes Kombattantenstatus erhielten.
 pirateriebekämpfung durch die deutsche marine1951

genannten Art abwehren zu können. Sobald sie aber über diese Mittel
verfügt, wären sie schon überflüssig, weil die Bundeswehr nun in vol-
lem Umfang ihre Unterstützung anbieten könnte.
Demzufolge lässt sich nicht auf das äußere Erscheinungsbild abstel-
len. Vielmehr sind verbotene Einsätze und erlaubte Verwendungen der
Bundeswehr auf der Grundlage einer teleologischen Auslegung des
Art. 87a Abs. 2 GG voneinander zu scheiden.72 Piraten verfügen durch-
weg nur über leichtere Bewaffnung; sie sind – möglicherweise in
großen Banden zusammengeschlossene und koordiniert handelnde –
Straftäter,73 aber keine militärisch kämpfende Gruppierung.74 Mögen
auch die übliche, der Polizei zu Gebote stehende Bewaffnung und Aus-
rüstung nicht ausreichen, um erfolgreich gegen Piraten vorzugehen, so
gibt die – einseitige – Beteiligung von Kriegsschiffen und der mögliche,
aber eher seltene Gebrauch schwerer Waffen75 dem Vorgang noch kein
militärisches Gepräge,76 weil es an einem dafür tauglichen Gegner
mangelt. Erst wenn die Verfolgung von Piraten auf der Grundlage der
Zustimmung der Regierung des betroffenen Staates oder einer Resolu-
tion der Sicherheitsrats77 an Land fortgesetzt wird, erscheint eine Ver-
wicklung in bewaffnete Auseinandersetzungen militärischer Art und
Größenordnung möglich, mit der Folge, dass aus der Piratenbekämp-
fung ein militärischer Einsatz wird. Erst dann besteht auch ein deutlich
erhöhtes Risiko für Leben und Gesundheit der Soldaten,78 das auf See
wegen der weit überlegenen Bewaffnung und Ausrüstung nur in gerin-
gem Maße gegeben ist. Deswegen steht Art. 87a Abs. 2 GG der unilate-
ralen Pirateriebekämpfung auf Hoher See durch die Deutsche Marine
nicht entgegen; und einer parlamentarischen Zustimmung nach §§ 3
Abs. 3 oder 4 Abs. 1 ParlBG bedarf es nicht.79

72
Ebenso Wolfrum (Fn. 9), 14.
73
v. Arnauld (Fn. 8), 467; Fischer-Lescano/Kreck (Fn. 19), 493; Treves (Fn. 18), 413.
74
Es wäre dann schon fraglich, ob es sich überhaupt um Piraten handelt und nicht
vielmehr um organisierte Aufständische, dazu R. Jennings/A. Watts, Oppenheim’s
International Law, Bd. I, 612 f. (9. Aufl. 1992); Wolfrum (Fn. 22), 308.
75
Zur Praxis der Pirateriebekämpfung siehe Treves (Fn. 18), 412 f.
76
Zu diesem Merkmal BVerfGE 121, 135 (168).
77
Vgl. oben Fn. 4.
78
Dazu BVerfGE 121, 135 (161), wobei nicht klar wird, inwieweit dieses Kriterium
bei der Frage der parlamentarischen Zustimmungsbedürftigkeit eine Rolle spielen
soll.
79
V. Röben, Außenverfassungsrecht, 294, Fn. 55 (2007); a. A. Wiefelspütz (Fn. 11),
144 f.
1952 ulrich fastenrath

D. Die rechtlichen Grundlagen der Piratenbekämpfung

durch die Bundeswehr

Solange die deutschen Truppenverbände bei ihren Verwendungen

unter deutscher Hoheit und Verantwortlichkeit stehen, genügt es frei-
lich nicht festzustellen, dass das Grundgesetz solchen Verwendungen
nicht entgegensteht. Vielmehr verlangen das System der Gewaltenglie-
derung und das Rechtsstaatsprinzip, dass – zumindest in grundrechts-
relevanten Bereichen – die Zuständigkeit der Bundeswehr rechtlich
begründet wird und ihr die notwendigen Eingriffsmöglichkeiten
gesetzlich eingeräumt sind.

I. Aufgabenzuweisung
Zunächst einmal ist festzuhalten, dass die Streitkräfte gemäß Art. 87a
Abs. 1 GG zur Verteidigung aufgestellt werden. Wenngleich das andere
Verwendungen nicht vollständig ausschließt,80 müssen diese jedoch in
einem Zusammenhang mit der Verteidigungsaufgabe stehen oder die
damit zusammenhängenden Fähigkeiten der Bundeswehr nutzen; und
sie dürfen die Erfüllung der primären Aufgabe nicht beeinträchtigen.
Die Legitimation zu diesen Verwendungen unterhalb der Einsatz-
schwelle muss sich jedoch nicht notwendig aus dem Grundgesetz selbst
ergeben.81
Zum Teil wird angenommen, dass sich die Befugnis zu unilateralen
Auslandseinsätzen der Bundeswehr aus Art. 32 Abs. 1 GG ergebe.82
Vorausgesetzt wird dabei, dass diese Norm nicht nur völkerrechts-
förmliches Handeln erfasst,83 sondern auch rein tatsächliches.84 Im
Ergebnis führt diese Auffassung dazu, dass jeder Auslandseinsatz ver-
fassungsrechtlich zugelassen ist, sich der oben erörterte Streit über den
räumlichen Anwendungsbereich von Art. 87a Abs. 2 GG also erübrigt.

80
So aber Hillgruber (Fn. 59), Rn. 52.
81
Strenger, insgesamt aber widersprüchlich Kirchhof (Fn. 27), der aus dem Vertei-
digungsauftrag schließt, die Betrauung mit anderen Aufgaben sei unzulässig, soweit sie
sich nicht aus dem Grundgesetz selbst ergeben (Rn. 13 f.), andererseits aber davon aus-
geht, die Beschränkung des Art. 87a Abs. 2 GG gelte nur für Einsätze im Innern (Rn.
57).
82
Depenheuer (Fn. 25), Rn. 171; Wiefelspütz (Fn. 40), 88.
83
So U. Fastenrath, Kompetenzverteilung im Bereich der auswärtigen Gewalt, 70,
83 ff. (1986); Fastenrath/Groh, in: Friauf/Höfling (Fn. 26), Art. 32, Rn. 43 ff.
84
So etwa M. Nettesheim, in: Maunz/Dürig (Fn. 25), Art. 32, Rn. 41, 44 ff.; R. Wolf-
rum, Kontrolle der auswärtigen Gewalt, 56 Veröffentlichung der Vereinigung Deut-
scher Staatsrechtslehrer (VVDStRL) 38, 39 f. (1997).
 pirateriebekämpfung durch die deutsche marine1953

Auch die Rechtfertigung von Auslandseinsätzen über Art. 24 Abs. 2

GG würde damit überflüssig. Abgesehen davon, dass die aus Art. 32
GG abgeleitete Differenzierung nach dem Innen-Außen-Schema der
offenen Staatlichkeit inadäquat ist und zu unabsehbaren Abgrenzungs-
schwierigkeiten führt, entspricht – wie oben bereits ausgeführt – eine
solche Freistellung des Einsatzes der Bundeswehr kaum Ziel und
Zweck der grundgesetzlichen Regelungen.
Als rechtliche Grundlage speziell für die Pirateriebekämpfung
durch die Deutsche Marine wird weiterhin Art. 25 GG in Verbindung
mit der entsprechenden völkergewohnheitsrechtlichen Gestattung sol-
cher Einsätze herangezogen.85 Nun ist es zwar nicht so, dass durch Völ-
kerrecht nur der Staat als solcher berechtigt und verpflichtet wäre und
sich für die einzelnen staatlichen Organe und Stellen daraus erst dann
Folgerungen ergäben, wenn die völkerrechtlichen Bestimmungen in
innerstaatliches Recht umgesetzt worden sind. Vielmehr sind die völ-
kergewohnheitsrechtlichen Regeln Bestandteil des Bundesrechts und
die völkerrechtlichen Bindungen des Staates treffen die Organe in
ihrem jeweiligen Zuständigkeitsbereich unmittelbar.86 Bei Erlaubnis-
normen gilt dies aber nicht uneingeschränkt. Denn es ist nicht davon
auszugehen, dass deutsche Stellen international alles tun dürfen, was
völkerrechtlich zulässig ist. Schranken ergeben sich insoweit aus dem
deutschen Recht. Dazu gehört auch die vom Bundesverfassungsge-
richt entwickelte Wesentlichkeitstheorie,87 nach der insbesondere in
grundrechtsrelevanten Zusammenhängen eine gesetzliche Grundlage
erforderlich ist, die sich auch auf die Festlegung von Zuständigkeiten
erstreckt.
Eine solche gesetzliche Grundlage gibt es freilich mit dem
Vertragsgesetz zum SRÜ.88 Wenn in dessen Art. 107 bestimmt ist,
dass unter anderem Kriegsschiffe gegen Piraten vorgehen dürfen, so
hat der Gesetzgeber diese Möglichkeit in seinen Willen aufgenom-
men und damit auch zugelassen, zumal sich die pirateriegefährdeten
Gebiete außerhalb der gewöhnlichen Reichweite der ebenfalls berech-
tigten Staatsschiffe (insbesondere der zur Küstenwacht eingesetzten

85
Zu entsprechenden Initiativen von FDP-Politikern siehe Fischer-Lescano/Kreck
(Fn. 19), 507.
86
BVerfGE 112, 1 (25); Fastenrath/Groh, in: Friauf/Höfling (Fn. 26), Art. 59, Rn. 95.
87
Dazu B. Pieroth/B. Schlink, Grundrechte–Staatsrecht II, Rn. 274 ff. (26. Aufl.
2010).
88
In diesem Sinne bereits der Autor dieses Beitrags in einem Artikel der Frankfur-
ter Allgemeinen Zeitung vom 19. Juni 2008.
1954 ulrich fastenrath

Polizeiboote) befinden. Die Ausübung völkerrechtlicher Berechtigun-

gen auf Hoher See durch die Deutsche Marine wird weiterhin in § 6
Bundespolizeigesetz89 anerkannt, wenn es dort heißt:
„Unbeschadet der Zuständigkeit anderer Behörden oder der Streitkräfte
hat die Bundespolizei auf See außerhalb des deutschen Küstenmeers die
Maßnahmen zu treffen, zu denen die Bundesrepublik Deutschland nach
dem Völkerrecht befugt ist …“
Demnach ist die Deutsche Marine nach deutschem Recht legitimiert,
die Kriegsschiffen nach Völkerrecht zustehenden Befugnisse auszu-
üben.90 Die Regelungen des Bundespolizeigesetzes und des Seeaufga-
bengesetzes91 verdrängen diese Befugnisse gerade nicht.
Daran ändert sich auch nichts dadurch, dass es sich bei der Piraterie-
bekämpfung um eine Aufgabe der polizeilichen Gefahrenabwehr und
Kriminalitätsbekämpfung handelt.92 Denn das Trennungsgebot zwi-
schen Polizei und Bundeswehr gilt, wie sich in § 6 Bundespolizeigesetz
deutlich zeigt, bei Verwendungen auf Hoher See nicht, wie es auch
generell bei Auslandseinsätzen nicht gilt;93 es ist bei den bisherigen Kri-
seneinsätzen der Bundeswehr im Rahmen kollektiver Sicherheitssys-
teme nicht beachtet worden und wäre im Einzelnen auch kaum
durchzuführen.94 Denn selbst wenn der Auftrag lediglich in der Beob-
achtung der Lage oder der Unterstützung der örtlichen Behörden bei

89
BGBl. 1994 I, 2978 (zuletzt geändert durch Gesetz vom 31. Juli 2009, BGBl. I,
2507).
90
Wiefelspütz (Fn. 11) 142; a. A. Fischer-Lescano/Kreck (Fn. 19), 507 f., 512;
Schmahl (Fn. 52), 88 f. mit der angesichts des Streitkräftevorbehalts in § 6 Bundespoli-
zeigesetz nicht überzeugenden Begründung, die Befugnisse aus dem SRÜ seien nach
dem lex posterior-Grundsatz durch nachfolgende Regelungen im Bundespolizeigesetz
und dem Seeaufgabengesetz, die trotz der dem Gesetzgeber bekannten Problematik
keinen ausdrücklichen Hinweis auf bestimmte Befugnisse der Streitkräfte enthielten,
überlagert.
91
Neugefasst durch Bekanntmachung vom 26. Juli 2002, BGBl. I, 2876 (zuletzt
geändert durch Gesetz vom 30. Oktober 2008, BGBl. I, 2130).
92
Nachweise oben Fn. 19; siehe weiterhin Braun/Plate (Fn. 49), 208; Röben (Fn. 79),
294.
93
König (Fn. 11), 235; i. E. ebenso Depenheuer (Fn. 25), Rn. 171; a. A. Fischer-
Lescano/Kreck (Fn. 19), 511; differenzierend, i. E. aber eine rechtmäßige Aufgabenzu-
weisung an die Bundeswehr ebenfalls verneinend Braun/Plate (Fn. 49), 209. Es handelt
sich dabei um ein „deutsches“ Problem, das andere Staaten nicht kennen, siehe die
rechtsvergleichenden Ausführungen von J. Martinez Soria, Polizeiliche Verwendun-
gen der Streitkräfte, DVBl. 597 ff. (2004).
94
Ausführlich dazu T. Marauhn, Streitkräfte zur Friedenssicherung im Ausland:
Zwischen militärischem und polizeilichem Einsatz, in: Zimmermann u. a. (Fn. 11),
249, 250 ff.; Wagner (Fn. 45), 48 ff.
 pirateriebekämpfung durch die deutsche marine1955

der Durchsetzung der öffentlichen Sicherheit und Ordnung besteht,

können sich ausländische Einheiten in einem Land mit prekärer
Sicherheitslage nicht ohne weiteres frei bewegen, sondern müssen sich
militärisch sichern. Von vornherein auf die Fähigkeiten der Bundes-
wehr zu höherem Eigenschutz zu setzen, gebietet zudem die jederzei-
tige Eskalationsgefahr. Es gibt gewiss auch Situationen, in denen die
Aufgaben besser von Polizisten erfüllt werden können. Das aber ist
eine Frage der Opportunität, nicht der Natur des Einsatzes und des
Verfassungsrechts.

II. Eingriffsermächtigung
Auf Grund von Art. 105 SRÜ und dem entsprechenden Völkergewohn-
heitsrechtssatz, die über das Vertragsgesetz bzw. über Art. 25 GG zum
Bestandteil des deutschen Rechts geworden sind, ist die Deutsche
Marine befugt, Seeräuberschiffe und von Piraten erbeutete Schiffe
aufzubringen, die Piraten festzunehmen und Vermögenswerte zu
beschlagnahmen. Nähere Ausführungen, wie das zu geschehen hat,
wie festgenommene Personen zu behandeln sind und wie Ermittlun-
gen und Beweissicherungen erfolgen sollen, fehlen dort indes. Zwar
sind die deutschen Soldaten auch bei ihren Auslandseinsätzen an die
Grundrechte und die für Deutschland verbindlichen, völkerrechtlich
geschützten Menschenrechte gebunden.95 Das allein genügt aber nicht
den Bestimmtheitsanforderungen, die das deutsche Recht ebenso wie
die Europäische Menschenrechtskonvention gerade bei weitreichen-
den Grundrechtseingriffen stellen.96
Allerdings erklärt das Seeaufgabengesetz in den §§ 3d und 4 Abs. 1
bei der Gefahrenabwehr und der Strafverfolgung auf Hoher See unter
anderem das Verwaltungsvollstreckungsgesetz, das Gesetz über den
unmittelbaren Zwang bei Ausübung öffentlicher Gewalt durch Voll-
zugsbeamte und die Strafprozessordnung für entsprechend anwend-
bar. Das Seeaufgabengesetz regelt allgemein die Tätigkeit des Bundes
auf dem Gebiet der Seeschifffahrt, schließt also die Bundeswehr ein,

95
A. v. Arnauld, Das (Menschen)Recht im Auslandseinsatz: Rechtsgrundlagen zum
Schutz von Grund- und Menschenrechten, in: D. Weingärtner (Hrsg.), Streitkräfte und
Menschenrechte, 61 ff. (2008); speziell zur Geltung der EMRK auf Hoher See siehe
EGMR, Medvedyev and others v. France, Urteil vom 10. Juli 2008, Nr. 3394/03.
96
 Fischer-Lescano/Kreck (Fn. 19), 503 ff.; siehe auch die entsprechenden Feststel-
lungen des EGMR im Fall Medvedyev (Fn. 95); stark zweifelnd Marauhn (Fn. 94), 274;
a. A. König (Fn. 11), 234 f.
1956 ulrich fastenrath

soweit sie in diesem Bereich Aufgaben übernimmt. Damit unter-

liegt die Deutsche Marine detaillierten Regelungen vom Aufbringen
eines Schiffes bis hin zur Behandlung inhaftierter Piraten.97 Was den
Soldaten im Gegensatz zur Bundespolizei fehlt, ist die Übertragung der
Aufgaben als Hilfsbeamte der Staatsanwaltschaft nach § 152 Gerichts-
verfassungsgesetz.98 Diesbezüglich besteht allerdings auch kein Bedarf,
da auf den Kriegsschiffen keine Ermittlungen durchgeführt werden
müssen.

E. Schlussbemerkung

Verfassungsrechtlich besteht also kein Hindernis für die Bekämpfung

der Piraterie durch die Deutsche Marine, gleichgültig ob dies im Rah-
men eines kollektiven Sicherheitssystems oder unilateral geschieht.
Die Probleme sind in beiden Fällen praktischer Natur, insbesondere
wenn die jeweiligen Küstenstaaten und die Heimatstaaten der Piraten
zur Mitwirkung nicht willens oder fähig sind bzw. wenn den Piraten
dort Folter, Todesstrafe oder menschenunwürdige Behandlung droht.
In solchen Situationen ist es nicht möglich, die Piraten und deren Schiff
binnen kurzer Frist den jeweils zuständigen Stellen dieser Staaten zu
übergeben.99 Dann muss auf dem Kriegsschiff für eine geeignete
Unterbringung gesorgt werden. Weiterhin ist schnellstmöglich eine
richterliche Überprüfung der Freiheitsentziehung herbeizuführen. Das
gilt selbst dann, wenn Art. 104 Abs. 3 GG auf Hoher See für die Fest-
nahme von Piraten nicht gelten sollte.100 Dabei sind auch die Mittel
moderner Telekommunikation zu nutzen. All das mag den Kapitän
eines Kriegsschiffs im Einzelfall vor große Schwierigkeiten stellen und
zu der Entscheidung führen, nicht gegen auf Hoher See angetroffene
Piraten vorzugehen; die generelle, von einer nicht überzeugenden

    97
Zur Rechtslage der Pirateriebekämpfung im somalischen Küstenmeer auf der
Grundlage der Sicherheitsratsresolutionen siehe König (Fn. 11), 234 f.
    98
Vgl. Verordnung zur Bezeichnung der zuständigen Vollzugsbeamten des Bundes
für bestimmte Aufgaben nach der Strafprozessordnung auf dem Gebiet der Seeschiff-
fahrt, BGBl. 1994 I, 442 (zuletzt geändert durch Gesetz vom 21. Juni 2005, BGBl. I,
1818).
    99
Dazu König (Fn. 11), 239; I. Shearer, Piracy, in: Wolfrum (Fn. 13), Rn. 32.
100
Dazu C. Kreß, Die moderne Piraterie, das Strafrecht und die Menschenrechte –
Gedanken aus Anlass der deutschen Mitwirkung an der Seeoperation ATALANTA, in:
Weingärtner (Fn. 46), 95, 104 ff.; Schmahl (Fn. 52), 85 ff.; vgl. auch das Urteil des
EGMR im Fall Medvedyev (Fn. 95).
 pirateriebekämpfung durch die deutsche marine1957

Rechtsauffassung getragene Ablehnung der Bundesregierung, mit den

Kriegsschiffen der Deutschen Marine auch unilateral weltweit zur
Bekämpfung der Piraterie beizutragen, rechtfertigt das nicht. Deutsch-
land verweigert sich mit einer völkerrechtsunfreundlichen Auslegung
des Grundgesetzes einer Aufgabe, die ein wichtiges Anliegen der Staa-
tengemeinschaft ist: Die Sorge um sichere Seewege.
 Macht und Ohnmacht –
Das Bundesverfassungsgericht und die Politik

Evelyn Haas

A.

In der letzten Zeit ist wieder vermehrt in Deutschland kritisch die Rede
von der Politisierung der Justiz oder spiegelbildlich von der Juridifizie­
rung der Politik, der Verrechtlichung der Politik. Indessen – eine sol­
che Verrechtlichung der Politik, die Notwendigkeit politisches Handeln
normativ zu umschreiben, ist im deutschen Rechtssystem angelegt, das
geleitet ist von einem bestimmten Verständnis von Rechtsstaatlichkeit
und von der Prädominanz der Verfassung. Politische Vorhaben der
demokratisch legitimierten Regierung, in Gesetzesform gegossen, sind
justitiabel und der Prüfung der Richter, letztlich der Richter des Bun­
desverfassungsgerichts, überantwortet.
Die Befugnis von Verfassungsgerichten, vom demokratisch legiti­
mierten Gesetzgeber beschlossene Gesetze aufzuheben – noch Anfang
des letzten Jahrhunderts in der deutschen Staatsrechtslehre umstrit­
ten1 – ist heute unbestritten und verfassungsrechtlich geregelt.2 Nicht
zuletzt die Gesetzesflut, mit der die Politik ihre Vorhaben ins Werk
setzt und nach der Rechtsprechung des Bundesverfassungsgerichts
auch setzen muss, führt dazu, dass infolge der dem Bundesverfassungs­
gericht eingeräumten Kontroll- und Verwerfungsbefugnis ihm in
erheblichem Maße Möglichkeiten der Einflussnahme auf die Politik
und der eigenen Gestaltung von Politik zuwachsen. Unter den Orga­
nen der Rechtsprechung nimmt das Bundesverfassungsgericht eine
herausgehobene Stellung ein, deren es sich wohl bewusst ist und deren
Möglichkeiten es zu nutzen verstanden hat.

1
Vgl. zum Streit um Sinn und Umfang einer Verfassungsgerichtsbarkeit: C. Schmitt,
Der Hüter der Verfassung, 155 (1931) einerseits und andererseits H. Kelsen, Wer soll
Hüter der Verfassung sein? 50 ff. (1931); noch Art. 64 Abs. 2 der Berliner Verfassung
von 1950 verbot es den Gerichten, Gesetze und Verordnungen auf ihre Verfassungs­
mäßigkeit hin zu überprüfen.
2
Art. 93 GG.
1960 evelyn haas

Seine Verfahrensweise und die im Gewand der Rechtsfindung ent­

wickelten Ergebnisse, seine Einflussnahme auf die Politik haben in der
Vergangenheit immer wieder Anlass zur Kritik an der Rechtsprechung
des Bundesverfassungsgerichts geboten. Gelegentlich ist das Gericht
sogar als Parallelregierung oder als Gegenregierung,3 auch als Ersatz­
gesetzgeber oder gar als Supergesetzgebungsinstanz4 apostrophiert
worden. Mit diesen Formulierungen wird nicht mehr nur die Gefahr
eines Einbruchs des Bundesverfassungsgerichts in den originären
Kompetenzbereich von Regierung und Gesetzgeber5 thematisiert, viel­
mehr wird dieser Einbruch als bereits eingetreten gewürdigt. Kritisch
wird das „prekäre Verhältnis zu Politik und Recht“ in der wissenschaft­
lichen Diskussion vermerkt,6 das in den Entscheidungen des Bundes­
verfassungsgerichts zum Ausdruck kommt.
Formulierungen wie „die Gegenregierung“ oder „der Ersatzgesetz­
geber“ weisen auf die Wahrnehmung einer strukturellen Unwucht im
System der Gewaltenteilung hin. Ist die Wirkweise eines der Verfas­
sungsorgane geeignet, die Wirkung anderer Verfassungsorgane im
staatlichen Bereich weitestgehend zu konsumieren, so gefährdet dies
die Balance zwischen den Gewalten im gewaltenteiligen Rechtsstaat.
Was also ist an diesen Formulierungen Polemik oder doch nur eine
drastische Umschreibung der gegebenen Verhältnisse?
In seiner Stellung als Gericht und selbst ernanntes Verfassungsor­
gan7 hat das Bundesverfassungsgericht Anteil an der obersten Staats­
führung. Das Maß dieses Anteils und die machtvolle Position, die das
Bundesverfassungsgericht im politischen Leben Deutschlands spielt,
ergibt sich jedoch nicht aus seinem Status, wenngleich dieser natürlich
von Bedeutung ist – sonst hätte das Gericht nicht so viel Wert auf die
Durchsetzung des Status gelegt –, sondern aus der Ausgestaltung
seiner Funktionen. Dem Bundesverfassungsgericht als dem obersten
Hüter der Verfassung ist eine einzigartige Fülle von Aufgaben und

3
 Eine umfassende Sammlung von Kritikformeln bietet R. Lamprecht, Zur Demon­
tage des Bundesverfassungsgerichts. Beweissicherung und Bestandsaufnahme (1996).
4
Vgl. etwa U. Karpen (Hrsg.), Der Richter als Ersatzgesetzgeber (2002); dort insb.
R. Scholz, Verfassungsgerichtsbarkeit im gewaltenteiligen Rechtsstaat, in: U. Karpen
(Hrsg.), Der Richter als Ersatzgesetzgeber, 15 ff. (2002).
5
BVerfGE 92, 151 f. – Sondervotum Böckenförde.
6
B. Bornemann, Politisierung des Rechts und Verrechtlichung der Politik durch das
Bundesverfassungsgericht?, Zeitschrift für Rechtssoziologie 76 (2007) m. w. N.
7
Vgl. Denkschrift des Bundesverfassungsgerichts vom 27. Juni 1952 (sog. „Status-
Denkschrift“); dem folgend der Gesetzgeber in § 1 Abs. 1 BVerfGG.
 macht und ohnmacht1961

Kompetenzen von dem Verfassungsgeber zugewiesen worden; und aus

diesem Quell schöpft das Bundesverfassungsgericht seine Macht und
seine Möglichkeiten. Wer die Deutungshoheit über die Verfassung, die
politisches Recht ist, innehat, wer das Tun der politischen Akteure
kontrollieren kann und hier das letzte Wort hat, übt politische Macht
in nennenswertem Maße aus.
Das wirft die Frage nach den Grenzen der Jurisdiktionsmacht auf,
die sich auch hier nach den Vorschriften der Verfassung zu beantwor­
ten scheint. Konkrete Schranken findet die verfassungsgerichtliche
Rechtsprechung in der für alle staatlichen Organe gleichen Bindung an
das Gesetz und die Verfassung (Art. 20 Abs. 3 GG). Doch diese Bin­
dung relativiert sich insoweit, als es das Bundesverfassungsgericht ist,
das dazu berufen ist, die Verfassung auszulegen und zu konkretisieren,
ja nach eigener Auffassung diese auch fortzubilden,8 also sie zu verän­
dern. Eine enorme Machtzuschreibung in einer parlamentarischen
Demokratie, die aber heute kaum auf Kritik stößt. Der Versuch einer
Einhegung der verfassungsgerichtlichen Jurisdiktionsmacht durch die
anerkannten Regeln der Methodenlehre dürfte kaum von Erfolg
gekrönt sein und dieser wäre auch schon deshalb nicht zu erwarten,
weil das Gericht sich im Zweifel auch über diese Regeln hinwegsetzt.9
Statt effektiver Einhegung dieser Jurisdiktionsmacht lässt sich viel­
mehr konstatieren, dass das Gericht Mittel und Wege gefunden hat,
diese im Wege der Selbstermächtigung noch zu erweitern. Diese Selbst­
ermächtigung ist nicht zu verwechseln mit der Inanspruchnahme einer
Kompetenz-Kompetenz. Hierfür bedarf es einer Rechtsgrundlage, wie
sie etwa der Papst nach dem codex iuris canonici in Anspruch nehmen
kann, die aber im deutschen Recht für das Bundesverfassungsgericht
fehlt. Das Bundesverfassungsgericht hat in der Vergangenheit seine
Kompetenzen und damit seine Gestaltungsmöglichkeiten kontinuier­
lich ausgeweitet. Je mehr aber das Gericht seinen Jurisdiktionsbereich
ausdehnt, umso intensiver kann es sich in das politische Leben des
Staates einbringen und das politische Geschehen lenken und letztlich
so der Politik und ihren Zielen „Paroli“ bieten. Das ohnehin nicht hohe
Ansehen der Politiker bei der Bevölkerung leidet, währenddessen
die Autorität des Bundesverfassungsgerichts gestärkt wird, wie ein
Blick in die Umfragewerte dies anschaulich dokumentiert. Rangiert
das Bundesverfassungsgericht in der Gunst der Bevölkerung in aller

8
Vgl. etwa BVerfGE 33, 247 ff.; ständige Rechtsprechung.
9
Vgl. dazu BVerfGE 12, 59 ff.
1962 evelyn haas

Regel – von Schwächeperioden beispielsweise in den neunziger Jahren

abgesehen – mehr oder weniger an der Spitze der ranking-Liste, so
muss sich die Politik mit Plätzen im unteren Bereich begnügen.

B.

I. Die Ausübung von Macht, das Streben nach und die Ausübung von
Herrschaft, ist noch zu keiner Zeit ungebundene Politikgestaltung
gewesen. Unter dem Einfluss der Lehren der griechischen Philosophen
war es in der Antike viele Jahrhunderte hindurch communis opinio,
dass die Ethik als Teil der Politik diese inhaltlich zu disziplinieren ver­
mag. Solcherart ausgeübte Macht steht nicht in der Gefahr des Miss­
brauchs und der Willkür. Damit soll nicht gesagt sein, dass sich zu
allen Zeiten die Regierungen auch an diesem griechischen Politikideal
orientiert hätten. Der Gegenbeispiele sind viele; man denke nur an die
griechische Tyrannis oder an die Condottieri der Renaissance.
Die Idee der Gebundenheit der Politik an die Ethik verliert sich
jedoch im Laufe der Geschichte. Spätestens seit dem 18. Jahrhundert
spielt sie keine Rolle mehr. Der moderne Staat sucht dieses Defizit nun
auszugleichen. Sein Heil sucht er allerdings nicht mehr in einer Wie­
derbelebung der philosophischen Vorstellungen der alten Griechen.
Statt der Ethik soll nunmehr eine geschriebene Verfassung die Staats­
macht bändigen.

II. Der verfasste Staat der Moderne bindet Herrschaft in ein Normen­
system ein. Dieses kann als Rahmenordnung oder als Grundsatzord­
nung mit unverbindlichen oder verbindlichen, die Staatsmacht
unmittelbar verpflichtenden Vorgaben ausgestattet sein. Im Maß sei­
ner Verbindlichkeit hat das Verfassungsrecht Vorrang vor dem
einfachen Recht. Staatsstrukturprinzipien wie das Sozial- oder das
Rechtsstaatsprinzip bilden das Fundament und hegen die Politik
ein; an ihren Anforderungen muss sich alles politische Tun messen
lassen.
Politik setzt Recht und steht selbst unter der Kuratel des Rechts,
auch und gerade des Verfassungsrechts. Der von der Verfassung gezo­
gene Rahmen weist der Politik die Schranken, die sie bei ihrem Han­
deln zu beachten hat. Die Vorteile, die der einzelne daraus zieht, sind
aber durch nicht ganz unerhebliche Nachteile erkauft. Deshalb ist es
von erheblicher Bedeutung, wie diese Schranken definiert werden.
 macht und ohnmacht1963

III. Denn rechtlich rückgebundene Politik verliert ihre Geschmeidig­

keit, ihre Flexibilität, die Spontaneität, die Fähigkeit zu rascher Reak­
tion auf sich jäh verändernde Lebenslagen. Ein oft mühevoller
Gesetzgebungsprozess nimmt ihr in dessen Ergebnis darüber hinaus
oftmals die angemessene Klarheit und Zielbezogenheit des Handelns.
Die Effizienz staatlichen Handelns kann danach infrage stehen.
Verfassungsrechtlich rückgebundene Politik erfährt darüber hinaus
weitere Schranken durch verfassungsgerichtliche Entscheidungen.
Neben der Rechtsprechung des Bundesverfassungsgerichts, die bei
Erlass der Gesetze Regierung und Gesetzgeber bekannt ist, sind es die
späteren, auf den Gesetzgebungsakt folgenden Entscheidungen und
Direktiven, die bei Erlass der die Politik gestaltenden Gesetze für den
Gesetzgeber nicht voraussehbar waren und die deshalb besonderes
Ungemach bereiten. Sie determinieren das politische Geschehen neu,
hemmen oder blockieren gar den politischen Willen. Die Politik muss
sich dementsprechend stets auch auf eine gewisse Vorläufigkeit ihrer
eigenen Entscheidungen einstellen, und das gerade auch bei wichtigen,
hochpolitischen Vorhaben, bei denen spätestens dann in jedem Sta­
dium des Gesetzgebungsverfahrens die Opposition unverblümt mit
dem Gang zum Verfassungsgericht drohen kann und dies in aller Regel
auch tun wird. Es liegt auf der Hand, dass eine solche „Hängepartie“
bei dringend erforderlichen Reformen oder einer evidenten Sicher­
heitsgefährdung des Staates und seiner Bevölkerung nicht unproble­
matisch ist.
Im Blick auf diese Folgen ist es notwendig, die Wirkweise der
Verfassungsgerichtsbarkeit kalkulierbar zu halten. Darauf kann das
Gericht selbst Bedacht nehmen. Es liegt aber eher in der Natur der
Sache, dass eine hoch effektive Verfassungsgerichtsbarkeit nicht eben
zur Selbstbeschränkung neigt und sich dem versagt. Die Macht von
Legislative und Regierung erleiden mithin Einbußen in dem Maße,
in dem die Verfassungsgerichtsbarkeit als Machtfaktor im System
der Gewaltenbalance ihre Macht nicht nur innerhalb des von der
Legislative und dem Verfassungsgeber gesetzten Regelungsrahmens
voll zur Geltung bringt, sondern diesen inhaltlich auch noch
erweitert.
So hängt die Macht, die der Verfassungsgerichtsbarkeit zukommt,
nicht nur von der prozessualen Ausgestaltung der Verfahren, etwa
der Ausgestaltung des Zugangs zum Verfassungsgericht, und seiner
Kompetenzen ab, sondern auch und vor allem vom Maß der Konstitu­
tionalisierung, also von der unmittelbar verpflichtenden Geltung der
1964 evelyn haas

Verfassungsnormen ab. Programmsätze und Leitlinien vermögen der

Politik Ziele aufzuzeigen, begrenzen sie aber nicht. Verfassungen aber,
die, wie die deutsche Verfassung, einen hohen Verbindlichkeitsgrad
bei regelmäßig überaus offener und knapper Normierung aufweisen,
können insoweit einer ausgreifenden, selbstbewussten Verfassungs­
rechtsprechung eine solide Grundlage geben.

IV. Dem Bundesverfassungsgericht als dem Hüter der Verfassung

kommt die Deutungshoheit über diese Verfassung zu. Als autoritativer
Interpret der Verfassung ist es das Gericht, das letztendlich den Inhalt
der Verfassung bestimmt. Seine Auslegung der Verfassungsnormen
und seine Entscheidung, ob die Gesetze der Verfassung entsprechen,
sein Verdikt, wofür schon fünf von acht Richterstimmen genügen, las­
sen politische Blütenträume verdorren. Diese leben auch nicht allzu
schnell wieder auf, denn der Entscheidung des Bundesverfassungsge­
richts und den sie tragenden Gründen kommt grundsätzlich zeitlich
unbeschränkte Bindungswirkung zu, die den Gesetzgeber hindert, sich
bei im Übrigen gleicher Sach- und Rechtslage mit einem neuen, gleich­
lautenden Gesetz über das Verdikt hinwegzusetzen. Denkbar wäre in
dieser Lage allenfalls, falls die Umstände im Übrigen dafür sprechen,
eine Änderung der Verfassung. Hierfür bedarf es indessen verfas­
sungsändernder Mehrheiten im Parlament, die es zu organisieren gilt.
Das erweist sich wegen der Mehrheitsverhältnisse und politischen
Meinungsdivergenzen in aller Regel als sehr schwierig, wenn nicht gar
aussichtslos.
Dem demokratischen Gesetzgeber in erstaunlicher Weise angenä­
hert scheint das Gericht, nimmt man in den Blick, welche Möglichkei­
ten der Durchsetzung seiner Entscheidungen es hat. Wie das Parlament
seine Beschlüsse in einem besonders geregelten formalen Verfahren als
Gesetze erlassen kann, so erwachsen auch einige in bestimmten Ver­
fahren ergangene Entscheidungen des Bundesverfassungsgerichts in
Gesetzeskraft.10 Das mag befremdlich erscheinen, handelt es sich doch
beim Bundesverfassungsgericht um ein Gericht. Indessen trägt die
gesetzliche Regelung der Besonderheit Rechnung, die in der Ausgestal­
tung der Funktion des Bundesverfassungsgerichts liegt. Dem Recht­
sprechungsorgan Verfassungsgericht ist aufgrund seiner Aufgaben
und Kompetenzen eine Doppelnatur zu eigen, worauf schon in der

10
S. § 31 Abs. 2 Satz 2 BVerfGG.
 macht und ohnmacht1965

staatsrechtlichen Diskussion zu Beginn des 20. Jahrhunderts hingewie­

sen worden ist.11 Die Aufhebung von Gesetzen stellt sich selbst als Akt
der Gesetzgebung, nämlich als negative Rechtsetzung dar.12 Die Aufhe­
bung von Gesetzen schafft eine andere Rechtslage. Anders als beim
Parlament beruht dies nicht auf einem politischen Willensakt, sondern
ist das Ergebnis der inhaltlichen rechtlichen Prüfung des Bundesver­
fassungsgerichts und wird als Judikat mit Mitteln der Judikative gewon­
nen, die den politischen Willen in den Hintergrund zu drängen
geeignet sind. Dies schließt allerdings nicht aus, dass auch politisch
wirksame Wertvorstellungen Eingang in die Entscheidungen finden.
Weil also Rechtsanwendung in einem gerichtsförmigen Verfahren
stattfindet, so spricht man zu Recht vom Bundesverfassungsgericht als
von einem Gericht.
Im Hinblick auf diese Besonderheit, die Doppelnatur der Institution
Verfassungsgericht, ist es deshalb durchaus folgerichtig, dass der deut­
sche Gesetzgeber Entscheidungen des Bundesverfassungsgerichts in
bestimmten Verfahren13 Gesetzeskraft zuweist. Und dass diese Ent­
scheidungen wie Gesetze im Bundesgesetzblatt veröffentlicht werden.
Dort allerdings, wo es der Entscheidung an einem Gesetzesbefehl
ermangelt, ist das Bundesverfassungsgericht zum Vollzug seiner Ent­
scheidung auf die Bereitschaft und die Mitwirkungswilligkeit der von
ihm gemaßregelten Politik angewiesen; denn es fehlt ihm an einem
Instrumentarium, um seine Entscheidungen zu vollstrecken. Dessen
bedarf es im Grundsatz konsequenterweise schon deshalb nicht, weil
eine dem Verfassungsprinzip der Rechtsstaatlichkeit verpflichtete Poli­
tik, die sich an Gesetz und Recht gebunden sieht, den Richterspruch
umzusetzen gehalten ist. Die Bereitschaft zur Umsetzung verfassungs­
gerichtlicher Entscheidungen befördert es überdies auch, wenn sich
die Politik in einer Lage zu befinden vermeint, in der sie eine Konfron­
tation mit dem Bundesverfassungsgericht, gar einen offenen Bruch,
nicht glaubt wagen zu können.
Hier kommt die öffentliche Meinung ins Spiel, die allzu häufig
von der veröffentlichten Meinung getragen wird und von der sich
insbesondere die Politik, aber nicht nur diese, beeinflussen lässt. Die
hohe Wertschätzung, die dem Bundesverfassungsgericht – über die

11
S. ob. Fn. 1.
12
H. Kelsen, Wesen und Entwicklung der Staatsgerichtsbarkeit, Veröffentlichungen
der Vereinigung der Deutschen Staatsrechtslehrer, Bd. 5, 29, 54 ff. (1929).
13
 Etwa bei abstrakten und konkreten Normenkontrollverfahren.
1966 evelyn haas

Jahrzehnte hinweg jedoch nicht ohne Eintrübungen14 – in der Bevöl­

kerung entgegengebracht wird, ist singulär. Das kann die Politik nicht
unbeeindruckt lassen. Zu dieser hohen Wertschätzung trägt die
zumeist überaus positive Berichterstattung über das Bundesverfas­
sungsgericht in den Medien bei. Deren Vertreter pflegen ein inniges
Verhältnis zum Bundesverfassungsgericht. Und so wird man wohl
nicht fehlgehen in der Annahme, dass weniger Weisheit und Augen­
maß der Entscheidungen die hohe Wertschätzung des Bundesverfas­
sungsgerichts in der Bevölkerung begründet haben als vielmehr die
veröffentlichte Meinung. Nicht geringschätzen aber sollte man in die­
sem Zusammenhang sicherlich auch die Auswirkungen der Erfahrun­
gen aus der Geschichte, der historischen Entwicklungen im letzten
Jahrhundert, die dafür ganz besondere Bedingungen geschaffen haben,
sowie die ohnehin starke legalistische Kultur Deutschlands. Traditio­
nell ist die Akzeptanz gerichtlicher Entscheidungen in Deutschland
hoch. Dem Richterspruch wird hohe Bedeutung zugemessen und Res­
pekt entgegengebracht.

C.

I. Deutschland nur als einen Verfassungsstaat charakterisieren zu

wollen, erfasst nicht die Bedeutung, die die Verfassung für das Rechts­
leben dieses Staates im Bewusstsein seiner Menschen gewonnen hat.
Besser charakterisiert man Deutschland und die Deutschen als eine
Verfassungsgesellschaft. Zutreffend wird deshalb auch von einem Ver­
fassungspatriotismus der Deutschen gesprochen, eine Gemütsverfas­
sung, die wohlwollend auf den Hüter eben dieser Verfassung ausstrahlt.
So wohlwollend, dass kaum bemerkt worden ist, dass sich der Hüter
zum Herrn der Verfassung gewandelt hat.
Es war ein langsamer Prozess, der aber mit großer Zielstrebigkeit
vorangetrieben worden ist. Schon in den Anfangsjahren der Bonner
Republik hat das Bundesverfassungsgericht die Weichen für eine

14
 Etwa in den 70igern oder besonders in den 90igern des letzten Jahrhunderts als
Entscheidungen, die weithin als skandalös empfunden wurden, vom Bundesverfas­
sungsgericht erlassen wurden und die auch von Richtern des Gerichts als fehlerhaft
angesehen wurden, wie deren dissentings ausweisen; vgl. dazu die folgenden Entschei­
dungen mit dissentings: BVerfGE 92, 1, 2 ff.; 93, 1, 25 ff., 34 ff.; 93, 266, 313 ff.; 98, 265,
329 ff.; vgl. auch Nachweise bei E. Haas, Bundesverfassungsgericht und Fachgerichte,
in: Bayer. Verfassungsgerichtshof (Hrsg.), Festschrift zum 50-jährigen Bestehen des
Bayerischen Verfassungsgerichtshof, 27 ff. (1997).
 macht und ohnmacht1967

S­ elbstermächtigung, die in den folgenden Jahren und Jahrzehnten ein

bemerkenswertes Ausmaß annehmen sollte, gestellt, indem es der Ver­
fassung eine ungeahnte Wirkkraft beigelegt hat. Wenn Konrad Ade­
nauer, der maßgeblich an den Verfassungsberatungen teilgenommen
hatte, mit dem Ausspruch zitiert wird, so hätten sie sich das damals
nicht vorgestellt, so lässt das die ganze Betroffenheit des Bundeskanz­
lers über die Entwicklung der bundesverfassungsgerichtlichen Recht­
sprechung der ersten Jahre erahnen.

II. Kompetenzen, deren es eine beachtliche Zahl gibt, hat das Bundes­
verfassungsgericht konsequent genutzt und voll ausgeschöpft. Durch
die Erschließung neuer Jurisdiktionsbereiche hat es seine Gestaltungs­
möglichkeiten erweitert. Dass das Bundesverfassungsgericht nur auf
Antrag tätig werden kann, hindert kaum seine Mitwirkung in politisch
bedeutsamen Verfahren. Denn Antragsteller, die ein Verfahren in
Gang setzen, finden sich immer. Wer hätte nicht die in allen irgendwie
politisch bedeutsamen Gesetzgebungsverfahren fernsehwirksam vor­
gebrachte Drohung noch im Ohr, wenn dies so beschlossen werde,
werde man nach Karlsruhe, also vor das Bundesverfassungsgericht,
gehen. Und so verwundert es nicht, dass das Bundesverfassungsgericht
zunächst in einer Vielzahl,15 im Laufe der Jahre in nahezu allen poli­
tisch bedeutsamen Verfahren involviert war und so Gelegenheit
genommen hat, seine juristisch begründete Auffassung im politischen
Raum zur Geltung zu bringen.

III. Im Rahmen seiner Entscheidungsfindung hat es die argumentati­

ven Möglichkeiten genutzt, ein Gesetz nicht nur für verfassungswidrig
zu erklären, sondern zugleich der Politik eine verfassungskonforme
Rechtslage vorzuzeichnen. Entscheidungen werden erlassen, die bis in
die Details hinein dem Gesetzgeber vorschreiben, wie die vom Gericht
für verfassungsrechtlich allein statthaft erklärte Gesetzgebung ausse­
hen muss, so jüngst wieder im Urteil zum Gesetz zur Neuregelung der
Telekommunikationsüberwachung, dessen Rigidität auf senatsinter­
nen Widerstand gestoßen ist.16 Einer anderen Variante bedient sich das

15
K. von Beyme, Der Gesetzgeber. Der Bundestag als Entscheidungszentrum, 302
(1997); das BVerfG wurde danach bis Mitte der neunziger Jahre des letzten Jahrhun­
derts in nicht weniger als 40% der hundert wichtigsten, als „Schlüsselentscheidungen“
klassifizierten Gesetzesbeschlüsse des Bundestages angerufen.
16
Vgl. BVerfGE 125, 260 ff., Sondervotum Schluckebier.
1968 evelyn haas

Gericht in jüngerer Zeit, wenn es ein Gesetz zwar nicht für verfas­
sungswidrig erklärt, die Anwendung desselben indessen mit einer sol­
chen Fülle von Vorgaben befrachtet, die angeblich verfassungsrechtlich
alle geboten sind, dass das Gesetz unpraktikabel wird. Dies ist nicht
der Unkenntnis der Richter geschuldet, sondern beabsichtigt. So wur­
den in der Entscheidung zum sog. Lauschangriff17 Verhaltensweisen
vom observierenden Beamten als von Verfassungs wegen unabdingbar
gefordert, obwohl in der mündlichen Verhandlung deutlich geworden
war, dass diese nicht oder jedenfalls nur unter Gefährdung des Lebens
des Beamten möglich seien. Die Entscheidung zur Rasterfahndung,18
um nur noch ein weiteres Beispiel zu nennen, lässt ein ähnliches Mus­
ter erkennen. Die Rasterfahndung dient dem Ziel, ein bis dahin unbe­
kanntes Täterprofil zu erstellen. Dieses Ziel wird verfehlt, wenn man
für die Durchführung einer Rasterfahndung Anforderungen formu­
liert, die eine Kenntnis vom Täter voraussetzen.
Erstaunlicherweise ist die Reaktion der betroffenen Parlamentarier,
deren Einschätzungsprärogative und Gestaltungsspielraum nur allzu
oft im praktischen Ergebnis nahezu vollständig eingeschränkt werden,
eher verhalten. Öffentlich geäußerte Empörung von Politikern hat
Seltenheitswert. Wenn intellektuelle Anstrengungen unterbleiben, das
gewünschte politische Ziel doch noch mit anderen Mitteln oder in
anderer gesetzlicher Einkleidung zu erreichen, so liegt das nicht zuletzt
eben auch daran, dass dem Gesetzgeber gar kein Gestaltungsspielr­
aum mehr verblieben ist. Erzwungen oder nicht, der Gesetzgeber pflegt
in aller Regel, in einem von ihm initiierten neuen Gesetzgebungsver­
fahren die verfassungsgerichtlichen Vorgaben aufzugreifen und das
neue Gesetz nach diesen auszuformen. Die Sprache ist verräterisch,
wenn der Bundestagsabgeordnete Bosbach in einem Interview19 for­
muliert, im neuen Gesetz zur Vorratsdatenspeicherung müssten
nur die engen Vorgaben des Bundesverfassungsgerichts in Gesetzes­
sprache formuliert werden. Aber selbst dort, wo dem Gesetzgeber
nach einer Entscheidung des Bundesverfassungsgerichts eigentlich
noch ein Gestaltungsspielraum verblieben war, er also noch hand­
lungsfähig wäre, nutzt der Gesetzgeber diesen häufig nicht. Und merk­
würdig genug, lässt sich Vergleichbares auch bei sog. obiter dicta

17
BVerfGE 109, 279 ff. (Art. 13 Abs.3 GG).
18
BVerfGE 120, 320 ff.
19
 Interview des Deutschlandfunks vom 18. November 2010, 8:50 Uhr.
 macht und ohnmacht1969

beobachten,20 die das Bundesverfassungsgericht bei Gelegenheit ohne

den Anspruch auf Verbindlichkeit formuliert und die nicht selten
gleichwohl beflissen vom Gesetzgeber umgesetzt werden.

Die Erwartung des Gesetzgebers, mit der Übernahme der gerichtli­

chen Ausführungen auf der sicheren Seite zu sein, kann sich als Trug­
schluss entpuppen. Eine spätere Verfassungsrichtergeneration kann
dies alles verfassungsrechtlich anders beurteilen. Die Gefahr ist schon
deshalb nicht gering zu schätzen, weil derartige Wegweisungen nicht
immer zuvor vom Senat eingehend auf ihre verfassungsrechtliche
Zulässigkeit geprüft worden sind.

D.

Im Verlauf der nunmehr 60 Jahre Rechtsprechung hat das Bundes­

verfassungsgericht nicht nur darauf Bedacht genommen, als Verfas­
sungsorgan wahrgenommen zu werden, sondern auch darauf, seine
Stellung zu sichern und zu stärken. Nicht zuletzt dem diente es auch,
wenn es seinen Jurisdiktionsbereich kontinuierlich erweitert hat.
Die Deutungshoheit über die Verfassung und ein gerüttelt Maß an
Kreativität haben zu einer Verfassungsgestaltung geführt, in welcher
diese nicht nur das Rechtsleben des Landes überwölbt, dem Tun
der Politik den Rahmen vorgibt, sondern das Recht des Landes
durchdringt.

I. Schon in den ersten Jahren nach seiner Gründung im Jahre 1951 hat
das Bundesverfassungsgericht in mehreren bemerkenswerten Ent­
scheidungen21 den Grundstein dafür gelegt, seine Jurisdiktionsgewalt
zu erweitern, ohne allerdings die Vorschriften über seine Kompetenz
formal zu verletzen.
Die mit der Verfassungsbeschwerde, einem zunächst nur durch
Gesetz22 geschaffenen Verfahren, rügefähigen Rechte sind über den

20
So wird im Rahmen der Gesetzesberatungen zum Abgeordnetengesetz von
einem Ausschuss die Empfehlung gegeben, die vom Bundesverfassungsgericht ange-
regten gesetzlichen Vorkehrungen zu treffen (BT-Drucks. 7/5531, S. 10).
21
BVerfGE 6, 32 ff. – Elfes; BVerfGE 7, 197 ff. – Lüth.
22
Ursprünglich noch in Art. 98 Nr. 8 Herrenchiemsee-Entwurf enthalten, ist die
Verfassungsbeschwerde nicht ins Grundgesetz, sondern erst durch den Gesetzgeber
im Bundesverfassungsgerichtsgesetz aufgenommen worden.
1970 evelyn haas

Wortlaut der Vorschrift hinaus erweitert worden. Die Verfassungsbe­

schwerde soll ihrem Ziel nach dem Grundrechtsschutz der Bürger die­
nen. Demgemäß ist rügefähig nur die Verletzung von Grundrechten
oder grundrechtsgleichen Rechten. Daran anknüpfend hat das Gericht
in einer 1957 ergangenen Entscheidung die rügefähigen Rechte mit
seiner In-Verbindung-Rechtsprechung (etwa Art. 2 Abs.1 in Verbin­
dung mit Art 20 Abs. 3 GG) als Transporteur genutzt, um die Berufung
des Beschwerdeführers auf die Verletzung anderer Verfassungsrechte
zu ermöglichen. So wird der nicht kompetenzgemäße Erlass eines
Gesetzes zum Prüfungsgegenstand im Verfassungsbeschwerdeverfah­
ren, das nach der gesetzlichen Regelung nur der Gewährleistung des
Schutzes der Grundrechte zu dienen bestimmt ist. Die im Schlepptau
der Grundrechtsrüge dem Gericht nunmehr zulässigerweise vorgetra­
genen Rügen andere Verfassungsbestimmungen betreffend vergrößer­
ten den Prüfungsradius des Gerichts. Der Weg zur Normenkontrolle
via Verfassungsbeschwerde war nunmehr eröffnet.
Diese Entscheidung aus dem Jahre 1957 hat das Bundesverfassungs­
gericht überdies zum Anlass genommen, den Schutzbereich des Art. 2
Abs. 1 GG dahingehend zu klären, dass dieser neben dem Persönlich­
keitsrecht auch die allgemeine Handlungsfreiheit des Menschen
umfasse.23 Damit war eine weitere Grundrechtsposition aus der Taufe
gehoben; der Wortlaut der Bestimmung, „die freie Entfaltung der Per­
sönlichkeit“, und ihre Historie lassen die Interpretation allerdings ein
wenig bemüht erscheinen.
Folgenreichen Klärungsbedarf sah das Gericht auch gleich zu Beginn
seiner Rechtsprechung hinsichtlich der zahlreichen, den Grundrech­
ten beigegebenen Gesetzesvorbehalten. Die verfassungsrechtlichen
Ermächtigungen an den Gesetzgeber, das Nähere durch Gesetz zu
regeln, erfuhren durch die Rechtsprechung eine durchgreifende Ein­
schränkung insoweit, als die Gesetze, mit denen der Gesetzgeber das
Grundrecht ausgestalten oder einschränken wollte, nunmehr seiner­
seits im Lichte des einzuschränkenden Grundrechts zu interpretieren
und damit auch in dieser Hinsicht vom Bundesverfassungsgericht zu
überprüfen waren. Diese Rechtsprechung war geeignet, dem Gesetzge­
ber die Regelungsherrschaft, die ihm der Verfassungsgeber in den

23
Zur ganzen Problematik dieser Rechtsprechung vgl. BVerfGE 80, 137, 168 –
Sondervotum Grimm.
 macht und ohnmacht1971

Schranken des Art. 19 Abs. 2 und 3 GG noch zugestanden hatte, zu

entwinden.24
Ebenfalls frühzeitig hat das Gericht den Gegenstand seiner Prü­
fungsbefugnis auch noch in anderer Hinsicht erweitert. Herrschende
Meinung in der staatsrechtlichen Literatur war seit Erlass des Grund­
gesetzes, dass die Grundrechte als Abwehrrechte gegen den Staat
konzipiert sind. Für die zivilrechtlichen Beziehungen der Bürger unter­
einander, für die von diesen geführten Verhandlungen und geschlosse­
nen Verträge waren sie danach ohne Relevanz. Es fehlt an der sog.
„Drittwirkung der Grundrechte“.
Dem ist das Bundesverfassungsgericht in seiner Rechtsprechung
auch nicht entgegengetreten. Vielmehr hat es die Debatte zur Drittwir­
kung der Grundrechte im Bereich des Zivilrechts entwertet. Dabei ist
es zunächst nur scheinbar vorsichtig zu Werke gegangen. Unter Beru­
fung darauf, dass die Grundrechte eine objektive Wertordnung etab­
lierten, die auf die gesamte Rechtsordnung ausstrahle und die alle
staatlichen Instanzen zu berücksichtigen hätten, hat das Bundesverfas­
sungsgericht es als seine Aufgabe erkannt zu prüfen, ob die staatlichen
Stellen, also etwa die Gerichte, die Reichweite und Wirkkraft der
Grundrechte auch in zivilrechtlichen Verfahren zutreffend beurteilt
haben. Die Zauberformel heißt „Ausstrahlungswirkung“. Den Einfluss
grundrechtlicher Wertmaßstäbe hat es zunächst auf die zwingenden
Normen des bürgerlichen Rechts sowie auf die Generalklauseln, die
nach seiner Auffassung eigentlich auf „außerrechtliche Maßstäbe“ ver­
wiesen, bezogen. Aber dieser Rechtsprechungsansatz erweist sich als
erweiterungsfähig. Und das nunmehr ebenfalls verfassungsrechtlich
durchwirkte Zivilrecht, die zivilrechtlichen Beziehungen der Bürger
untereinander und die Rechtsprechung der Zivilgerichte hierzu, sind
so als Gegenstand für die Überprüfung durch das Bundesverfassungs­
gericht erschlossen worden.25

II. Aber damit nicht genug. Das Bundesverfassungsgericht machte

in der Folgezeit seine These, die Grundrechte stellten eine objektive

24
BVerfGE 7, 207 ff.; Art. 19 Abs. 1 und Abs. 2 GG lässt sich eine solche „Licht“-
Interpretation nicht entnehmen; vielmehr heißt es dort nur, das einschränkende
Gesetz müsse allgemein sein und dürfe das Grundrecht nicht in seinem Wesensgehalt
einschränken.
25
Vgl. BVerfGE 6, 32 ff.
1972 evelyn haas

Wertordnung dar, noch in anderer Hinsicht fruchtbar, auch hier mit

der Konsequenz, dass seine Jurisdiktionsgewalt und damit zugleich
seine Einflusssphäre nicht unwesentlich erweitert wird.
In einer Reihe von Entscheidungen26 entnimmt das Bundesverfas­
sungsgericht den als Abwehrrechten gegen den Staat konzipierten
Grundrechten kraft seiner Deutungshoheit verpflichtend für alle staat­
lichen Instanzen Schutzpflichten des Staates. Schutz, den der Bürger
gegen den Bürger von Verfassungs wegen vom Staat einfordern kann.
Diese Schutzpflicht hat in erster Linie der Gesetzgeber zu erfüllen.
Dem Bundesverfassungsgericht wächst sodann das Recht zu, zu über­
prüfen, ob die Politik dieser von ihm statuierten Pflicht auch nachge­
kommen ist. Die Rechtsprechung lässt der Politik hier jedoch in aller
Regel wirklich einmal einen weiten Gestaltungsspielraum, welche
Maßnahmen sie zur Beseitigung eines Missstandes wählt, welche sie
für zweckdienlich und geboten hält.
Bisher beschränkt sich das Bundesverfassungsgericht auf einen
Evidenzmaßstab, das bedeutet, dass es nur eingreift, wenn es das
Unterlassen des Gesetzgebers als evident verfassungswidrig beurteilt.
Erkennt das Gericht ein evident verfassungswidriges Unterlassen, so
kann der Gesetzgeber den Gründen der Entscheidung entnehmen, was
zu tun gewesen wäre. Damit gibt das Gericht der Politik jedenfalls die
großen Linien des Handelns vor, kann aber auch im Einzelfall, wenn es
das für geboten erachtet, ins Detail gehen.

III. Besondere praktische Bedeutung für die Einflussmöglichkeiten des

Gerichts hat das Verhältnismäßigkeitsprinzip gewonnen. Das Verhält­
nismäßigkeitsprinzip spielt im Rechtsleben – nicht zuletzt auch als
Folge der Rechtsprechung des Bundesverfassungsgerichts – eine große
Rolle und hat erhebliche Bedeutung erlangt. Hier ist an erster Stelle an
die Rechtsprechung zum Gesetzesvorbehalt für Eingriffe der Exekutive
ungeachtet ihrer Schwere und ihrer Intensität zu erinnern. Bei der
Strukturierung der Gesetzestatbestände ist der Gesetzgeber gehalten,
auf das Prinzip der Verhältnismäßigkeit Bedacht zu nehmen. Auf der
Anwendungsebene spielt der Grundsatz der Verhältnismäßigkeit
ebenfalls eine gewichtige Rolle. Ein Grundsatz, der ursprünglich seine
positivrechtliche Ausgestaltung im Polizeirecht hatte, machte so
Karriere.

26
Bahnbrechend wohl BVerfGE 39, 1 ff.; vgl. auch BVerfGE 49, 89 ff.; BVerfGE 57,
250 ff.; BVerfGE 77, 170 ff.; insbes. auch BVerfGE 88, 203 ff.
 macht und ohnmacht1973

Mit Blick auf den vom ihm so viel beschworenen Gestaltungsspiel­

raum des Gesetzgebers und dessen Einschätzungsprärogative hätte
sich das Bundesverfassungsgericht auf die Prüfung beschränken kön­
nen, ob der Gesetzgeber den Grundsatz der Verhältnismäßigkeit bei
Erlass des Eingriffsgesetzes und die Verwaltung bei seiner Anwendung
beachtet haben. Indessen – das Bundesverfassungsgericht hat sich
damit nicht begnügt. Es prüft die Verhältnismäßigkeit mit in den Jahr­
zehnten zunehmender Intensität anhand der Kriterien der Geeignet­
heit, Erforderlichkeit und der Verhältnismäßigkeit im engeren Sinne,
also der Angemessenheit eigens nach. Diese Letztere beurteilt sich
danach, ob das eingesetzte Mittel unter Berücksichtigung der Grund­
rechtsbeschränkung noch in einem angemessenen Verhältnis zu dem
dadurch erreichten Ziel steht. Das Verhältnismäßigkeitsprinzip hat
sich so zur Achillesferse des Gesetzgebers, ja der Politik überhaupt
entwickelt.
Die Kriterien lassen viel Raum. Insbesondere das Kriterium der
Angemessenheit, das eine Abwägung fordert, ist methodisch und dog­
matisch nicht zu fassen. Letztlich bleibt nur die Dezision. Von Rechts­
anwendung kann keine Rede sein. Die Abwägung im konkreten Fall als
eine Methode der Rechtsfindung eröffnet dem Bundesverfassungsge­
richt weitgehende Möglichkeiten der Einflussnahme.
Das gilt auch für andere Konstellationen, die eine Abwägung erfor­
dern. Solche Konstellationen können Grundrechtskollisionen oder
auch Kollisionen mit anderen Verfassungsgütern sein. Formulierun­
gen wie „schonender Ausgleich“ oder „praktische Konkordanz“ stehen
dafür.
Das Gericht hat sich auch Abwägungsmöglichkeiten, die es bis
dahin nicht gab, erst erschlossen. So konnte sich der Mieter gegenüber
dem Grundrecht des Vermieters auf Eigentum nur auf das zivilrechtli­
che Recht zum Besitz berufen, ihm also kein Grundrecht seinerseits
entgegenhalten. Hier hat sich das Gericht nicht gescheut, entgegen
zivilrechtlicher Dogmatik das zivilrechtliche Besitzrecht in ein verfas­
sungsrechtliches Eigentumsrecht umzuwidmen. Nunmehr stehen sich
zwei Eigentumsrechte gegenüber, die es abzuwägen gilt. Das Mietrecht
wuchs sich in der Folgezeit zu einer Rechtsmaterie aus, die das Bundes­
verfassungsgericht erheblich belastete, weil die Inhaber dieser neuen
Rechtsposition den Wirkbereich derselben zu testen trachteten.27

27
 Fluch der „bösen“ Tat: Der Berichterstatter drohte in der losgetretenen Lawine
der Mietsachen unterzugehen und erbat vom Senat Umverteilung der Mietrechtsver­
fahren auf alle Richter.
1974 evelyn haas

IV. Es sind seine mehr oder weniger eingehend begründeten Rech­ts­

erkenntnisse, mit denen das Bundesverfassungsgericht das Staatsleben
beeinflusst und lenkt. Die weit gefassten, ausfüllungsbedürftigen Vor­
schriften der Verfassung lassen bundesverfassungsrichterlicher Inter­
pretation und Kreativität viel Gestaltungsspielraum. Manche Begriffe
allerdings haben einen Inhalt, der über Jahrzehnte, wenn nicht gar
über Jahrhunderte gleich geblieben ist, und sie sind in diesem Ver­
ständnis Gegenstand der Verfassungsnormierung geworden. Das gilt
insbesondere für den Begriff der Familie. Hier scheut das Gericht nicht
davor zurück, den bekannten und eingeführten Begriff der Familie mit
neuem Inhalt zu versehen. Die Familie wurde im deutschen Recht wie
im allgemeinen Sprachgebrauch stets als eine rechtlich gesicherte
Gemeinschaft von Vater, Mutter, Kind verstanden. Diese Gemeinschaft
war es, die nach dem Verständnis des Verfassungsgebers von Verfas­
sungs wegen den besonderen Schutz des Staates genießen sollte.28 Das
Bundesverfassungsgericht ändert nun die Sinnbedeutung des Begriffs
„Familie“, wenn es – wie in der jüngeren Rechtsprechung geschehen29
– mit dem Begriff der sog. „sozialen Familie“ einen Begriff für Familie
aus soziologischen und einigen zivilrechtlichen Veröffentlichungen
zum Familienrecht übernimmt, der indessen mit dem in der Verfas­
sung enthaltenen nur wenig mehr gemein hat. Eine ganz besondere
verfassungsrechtliche Gewährleistung wird mit dieser Änderung oder
eigentlich Ergänzung des Begriffs auf jedwedes – rechtlich nicht gesi­
chertes – Zusammenleben mehrerer Personen angewandt. Einen zwin­
genden Grund dafür gibt es nicht. Keinesfalls handelt es sich hier um
einen allgemeinen Bedeutungswandel des Begriffs „Familie“, dem das
Gericht Rechnung hätte tragen müssen. Insoweit stellte also der ein­
deutige Wortlaut und Sinngehalt der Verfassungsnorm eine unüber­
windbare Hürde für Interpretation und Fortentwicklung der Verfassung
dar.30 Hier dürfte es sich um eine Verfassungsänderung durch Richter­
spruch gehandelt haben, mit der Rechtspolitik getrieben worden ist.
Und das mit weitreichenden Folgen. Denn die Politik hat nunmehr
weit über das vom Verfassungsgeber gewollte Maß hinaus besonderen
Schutz und Förderung auch solchen Personengemeinschaften zu

28
Art. 6 GG.
29
BVerfGE 108, 82, 112 f.
30
Vgl. K. Hesse, Grenzen der Verfassungswandlung, in: Festschrift für Scheuner,
123 ff. (1973); P. Kirchhof, Die Identität der Verfassung, in: Isensee / Kirchhof (Hrsg.),
Handbuch des Staatsrechts, Band I, § 19 Rn. 46 (1987).
 macht und ohnmacht1975

gewähren, die wegen fehlender rechtlicher oder biologischer Grund­

lage nicht auf Beständigkeit angelegt sind.

V. Dass die Grundrechte in der Verfassung meist knapp, häufig

nur mit einem Satz umschrieben sind, hat sich in der Vergangenheit
für die Rechtsprechung durchaus als Vorteil erwiesen. Das Bundesver­
fassungsgericht hat im Laufe seiner Rechtsprechung diese Grundrechte
inhaltlich ausgestaltet und auch ausgeweitet. Ein Satz konnte sich so zu
einem ganzen System wandeln. Eine Vielzahl von in der Verfassung
nicht verorteten Begriffen findet sich so im Schutzbereich eines Grund­
rechts wieder. Ohne die Beiziehung der einschlägigen Entscheidungen
des Bundesverfassungsgerichts ist beispielsweise das Grundrecht der
Freiheit von Presse und Rundfunk (Art. 5 Abs. 1 S. 2 GG) heute in sei­
ner Bedeutung und Tragweite schlechthin nicht zu verstehen.
Bei der Prüfung, ob eine Verletzung des Grundrechts auf Meinungs­
freiheit vorliegt, hat das Bundesverfassungsgericht noch weiter ausge­
griffen und in nicht unproblematischer Weise sich von dem von ihm
üblicherweise zu befolgenden, von seiner Kompetenz und vom Pro­
zessrecht vorgegebenen Prüfungsmaßstab gelöst und prüft wie ein
Fachgericht, und zwar wie ein Berufungsgericht, die vom Beschwerde­
führer mit der Verfassungsbeschwerde angegriffene Entscheidung
nach. Die heftige Kritik der Fachöffentlichkeit31 hat es nicht zum Anlass
genommen, auf den Pfad der Tugend zurückzufinden und seine Recht­
sprechung zu ändern. Mit dem gelegentlich zu hörenden Hinweis auf
die Bedeutung dieses Grundrechts für die Demokratie lässt sich seine
Verfahrensweise jedenfalls nicht rechtfertigen, zumal das Grundrecht
auf freie Meinungsäußerung nach der Rechtsprechung des Bundesver­
fassungsgerichts keineswegs nur Geltung für politisch relevante Äuße­
rungen hat.
Das Grundrecht auf freie Entfaltung der Persönlichkeit hat in der
Rechtsprechung des Bundesverfassungsgerichts eine besondere Ent­
wicklung genommen. Art. 2 Abs. 1 GG erweist sich allerdings wegen
seiner höchst unspezifischen Formulierung für die Anpassung des Per­
sönlichkeitsrechts an die wechselnden Bedingungen als besonders
offen. Der Gewährleistungsbereich dieses Grundrechts wird so zu
einer Quelle, aus der stets aufs Neue veritable Grundrechte fließen.32
So leitete das Gericht aus Art. 2 Abs. 1 GG nicht nur ein Recht auf

31
Vgl. dazu Haas (Fn. 14), 35 m. w. N.
32
Zur Problematik vgl. BVerfGE 80, 148 ff. – Sondervotum Grimm.
1976 evelyn haas

allgemeine Handlungsfreiheit ab,33 sondern später ein spezielles Recht

auf Datenschutz.34 Beide sollten in der Rechtsprechung des Gerichts
eine nicht unerhebliche Rolle spielen. Das Recht auf Datenschutz –
inzwischen auch als Grundrecht auf Datenschutz bezeichnet – bezog
sein Gewicht nicht zuletzt daraus, dass das Bundesverfassungsgericht
bisher einheitliche Verwaltungsvorgänge entgegen der herrschenden
Meinung in der Verwaltungswissenschaft in zahlreiche Einzelvorgänge
zerlegte (etwa in Erhebung, Speicherung, Weitergabe, Sperrung,
Löschung der Daten) und forderte, diese nun jeweils einzeln gesetzlich
zu regeln. Die Gefahr für den Gesetzgeber, eine Materie nicht verfas­
sungsgemäß zu regeln, vervielfachte sich so, denn es vervielfachten
sich die vom Gericht für erforderlich gehaltenen Gesetze. Die so dem
Bundesverfassungsgericht gegebene vervielfachte Prüfungsmöglich­
keit führte zu Entscheidungen, die in ungeahntem Maße den parla­
mentarischen Gesetzgebungsprozess „engmaschig“ steuerten und
steuern. Und diese Entscheidungspraxis leistete – eine unerfreuliche
Nebenfolge – einer Datenhysterie in der Bevölkerung Vorschub, wie
man sie in keinem anderen Staat in dieser Weise kennt.
Den einmal eingeschlagenen Weg, aus Art. 2 Abs. 1 GG weitere
Grundrechte herauszudestillieren, verfolgt das Gericht auch weiter,
wie eine jüngst ergangene Entscheidung35 ausweist. Danach enthält
Art. 2 Abs. 1 GG ein Recht des Einzelnen auf Gewährleistung der Ver­
traulichkeit und Integrität informationeller Systeme.

VI. Dass wiederholt aus einem Grundrecht neue, andersgeartete

Grundrechtspositionen als jene, die der Verfassungsgeber bei Erlass
der Verfassung im Auge hatte, vom Gericht „herausgezaubert“ werden,
erscheint ebenso problematisch wie die tiefgreifende Inhaltsänderung
von in der Verfassung verwendeten Begriffen. Dies lässt sich mit dem
Recht auf Fortentwicklung der Verfassung, einem Recht, das das
Bundesverfassungsgericht in ständiger Rechtsprechung für sich in
Anspruch nimmt,36 nicht mehr zufriedenstellend begründen.
Die Kritik des deutschen Staatsrechtslehrers Carl Schmitt37 an
der inhaltlichen Unbestimmtheit von Verfassungsnormen, namentlich

33
BVerfGE 6, 32 ff.
34
BVerfGE 65, 1 ff.
35
BVerfGE 120, 274 ff.
36
vgl. etwa BVerfGE 33, 247 ff.; BVerfGE 79, 365 ff.; BVerfGE 98, 218 ff.
37
C. Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, 118 (8. Aufl. 1993); ders., Der Hüter der Verfassung,
155 (1931): „hochpolitische Instanz“.
 macht und ohnmacht1977

von Grundrechten, und seine Besorgnis, die in Ablehnung mündete,

scheint sich so im Nachhinein noch aufs Trefflichste zu bestätigen.
Schmitts Verfassungs- und Verfassungsgerichtskritik nimmt Ernst
Forsthoff, ein Schüler Carl Schmitts, auf, wenn er spöttisch anmerkt,
die Verfassung werde vielfach aufgefasst „als juristisches Weltenei, aus
dem alles hervorgeht vom Strafgesetzbuch bis zum Gesetz über die
Herstellung von Fieberthermometern“.38

E.

Die oben in groben Zügen dargestellte Rechtsprechungspraxis des

Bundesverfassungsgerichts weist die Wandlung des Hüters der Verfas­
sung zum respektheischenden Herrn der Verfassung aus. Nicht allein
die Kunst seiner Interpretationen, sondern maßgeblich das in Anspruch
genommene Recht auf Verfassungsfortentwicklung hat sich als Türöff­
ner erwiesen, der Eintritt in die Sphäre der Politik gewährleistet und
Einflussnahme auf den politischen Prozess ermöglicht.
Die Inanspruchnahme des Rechts auf Fortentwicklung der Verfas­
sung – methodisch nicht mit Rechtsetzung zu verwechseln und von
besonderen Voraussetzungen, etwa einer unbeabsichtigten Lücke in
der Verfassung, abhängig – lässt gleichwohl dem Gericht erhebliche
Möglichkeiten der Gestaltung. Auch wenn theoretisch die Verfas­
sungsänderung nicht in den Kompetenzbereich des Bundesverfas­
sungsgerichts fällt, so dürfte doch manche verfassungsrechtliche
Erkenntnis im Ergebnis auf eine Verfassungsänderung hinauslaufen.
Denn lässt sich in der Theorie der Verfassungswandel noch klar gegen­
über einer Verfassungsänderung abgrenzen, so gilt das für die Praxis
nicht in gleicher Weise.
Verfassungsänderungen sind nach Art.79 Abs.1 GG dem verfas­
sungsändernden Gesetzgeber vorbehalten, der den Text der Verfas­
sung nur mit qualifizierter Parlamentsmehrheit ändern kann. Das
Textänderungsgebot soll seinem Sinn und Zweck nach verhindern,
dass es wie in der Weimarer Republik zu sog. „Verfassungsdurchbre­
chungen“ durch außerhalb der Verfassung geltendes, mit qualifizierter
Mehrheit beschlossenes Recht kommt. Mit dieser Zielsetzung setzt
sich die Rechtsprechung des Bundesverfassungsgerichts allerdings

 E. Forsthoff, Der Staat der Industriegesellschaft, 144 (1971).

38
1978 evelyn haas

auch nicht in Widerspruch, denn diese ändert nicht den Wortlaut der
Verfassungsbestimmung, sondern füllt ihn mit neuem Inhalt auf.
So wie in der Vergangenheit die Verfassungsinterpretation des Bun­
desverfassungsgerichts zu ganz neuen, im Verfassungstext nicht ange­
legten, für die Politik folgenreichen Erkenntnissen, etwa zu den
Grundrechten als einer objektiven Wertordnung, geführt hat, hat die
Dichte der Argumentation, seine Lust an detailreichen Darlegungen in
den Entscheidungsgründen, Regierung und Gesetzgeber immer wie­
der in die Rolle nur eines Vollstreckungsorgans richterlicher Willens­
kundgabe gedrängt. Legislative und Gubernative wurden und werden
so ihrer demokratischen Dignität entkleidet. Der Unmut der Politiker
darüber entlädt sich zuweilen in Äußerungen, wie man sie in den
Memoiren des ehemaligen Bundeskanzlers Helmut Schmidt nachlesen
kann, wenn er dort fordert, „auch das Bundesverfassungsgericht sollte
lernen, dass seine hochdetaillierten Urteilsbegründungen, die ihm
zur Gewohnheit geworden sind, zu unerwünschten Einengungen füh­
ren. “Die vom Bundesverfassungsgericht beförderte „Regelungsmanie“
geißelt er als „eine zur Erstarrung führende psychische Epidemie“, die
inzwischen die „gesamte politische Klasse“ ergriffen habe.39
Angesichts dieser Sachlage drängt sich die Frage förmlich auf,
was die Politik macht, um die Verfahrensherrschaft wieder zu gewin­
nen. Was setzen Regierung und Gesetzgeber dem politischen Macht­
anspruch des Bundesverfassungsgerichts entgegen? Die Antwort
ist ernüchternd. Es geschieht nichts – jedenfalls nichts nachhaltig Effi­
zientes. Regierung und Gesetzgeber scheinen in eine Art Schockstarre
verfallen zu sein. Nicht einmal Ansätze eines Versuchs gegenzusteu­
ern, sind erkennbar. Die Gefahr eines Machtverlustes droht dem
Bundesverfassungsgericht deshalb nicht von Berlin, sondern von
Luxemburg, wo der Europäische Gerichtshof sich anschickt, durch
eine seine Kompetenzen äußerst großzügig auslegende Rechtspre­
chung das Ruder an sich zu reißen. In seinem kraftvollen Urteil zum
Lissabon-Vertrag40 hat das Bundesverfassungsgericht dem EuGH die
Grenzen aufgezeigt, nur um wenige Monate später ungewöhnlich
kleinlaut beizugeben und zurückzurudern.41 Was das Gericht zu der
Kehrtwendung bewogen haben mag, kann man nur erahnen. Was man
hingegen in Berlin über die vom Bundesverfassungsgericht durch seine

39
H. Schmidt, Ausser Dienst, 121 (2008).
40
BVerfGE 123, 267 ff.
41
BVerfG, Beschluss vom 6. Juli 2010 – 2 BvR 2661/06.
 macht und ohnmacht1979

langjährige Rechtsprechung geschaffene Situation denkt, wird einem

zumeist hinter vorgehaltener Hand verlautbart. Gelegentlich kann man
es auch schwarz auf weiß lesen. So dürfte die Gemütslage von Regie­
rung und Parlament in den Worten des ehemaligen Bundesinnenmi­
nisters und heutigen Bundesfinanzministers zutreffend wiedergegeben
sein, wenn er in einem Interview bemerkte, er habe „Zweifel, ob das
Verfassungsgericht wirklich entscheiden sollte, für welche Straftaten
man welches Instrument gesetzlich vorsehen kann oder nicht. Es ist
doch Sache des Gesetzgebers, zu sagen: Für diese Straftat kann ich die­
ses Instrument einsetzen – für jene nicht. “Und: „Wer Gesetze gestalten
will, sollte sich bemühen, Mitglied des Deutschen Bundestages zu
werden.“42

42
W. Schäuble, FAZ vom 10.3.2009.
 Die neue Tierversuchsrichtlinie 2010/63/EU der
Europäischen Union im Lichte der
Binnenmarktkompetenz

Wolfgang Löwer*

Herr Wolfrum hat sich nie „nur“ der Wissenschaft gewidmet (obwohl
ihr seine Leidenschaft gilt), sondern immer auch gesehen, dass
Wissenschaft ihren ihr zugemessenen Platz in der Gesellschaft (und in
der Rechtsordnung) für sich offensiv reklamieren muss. Deshalb hat
Herr Wolfrum sich in der Selbstverwaltung der Wissenschaft inten­
siv engagiert und ist dabei auch den schwierigen Themen nicht ausge­
wichen. Ich erinnere mich an das gemeinsame Bemühen um ein
wissenschaftskompatibles Stammzellrecht, für das wir im Bundestag
in der Anhörung – völlig atypisch für dieses Verfahren – sogar erfolg­
reich waren, weil wir entgegen einer geplanten Ermessenserlaubnis
einen rechtsansprüchlichen Erlaubnistatbestand erreicht haben.
Gesell­schaftlich „im Feuer“ steht auch immer das Tierversuchsrecht,
für das die DFG auch bemüht sein muss (und immer gewesen ist),
Tierschutzinteresse und Forschungsinteresse zum angemessenen
Ausgleich zu bringen.
Deshalb habe ich Rechtsprobleme der neuen europäischen
Tierversuchsrichtlinie zu Ehren von Rüdiger Wolfrum als Thema
ausgesucht.

A. Tierversuchsrecht in der Europäischen Union

Der Gemeinschaftsgesetzgeber hat sich mit seiner Richtlinie 2010/

63/EU1 v. 22. September 2010 zum Schutz der für wissenschaftliche
Zwecke verwendeten Tiere (im Folgenden RL 2010) kodifikatorisch
der Tierversuche zu wissenschaftlichen Zwecken angenommen.
Gestützt ist die Tierversuchsrichtlinie „insbesondere“ auf Art. 114
AEUV, will also das Tierversuchsrecht mit Binnenmarktbezug zur
Durchsetzung der Grundfreiheiten harmonisieren. Insofern mag es bei

* Für die hilfreichen Vorarbeiten und grenzenlose Diskussionsgeduld danke ich

meinem Mitarbeiter Armin von Weschpfennig.
1
ABl. L 276 vom 20.10.2010, S. 33.
1982 wolfgang löwer

unbefangener Betrachtung überraschend wirken zu lesen, dass das

europäische Recht jetzt auch Vorschriften für die Grundlagenforschung
enthält, die typischerweise Aufgabe von Hochschulen oder staatlich
finanzierten Forschungseinrichtungen ist oder wenn Tierversuche im
Zusammenhang mit der „Ausbildung an Hochschulen“ geregelt wer­
den. Unter dem Signum, dass der Tierschutz in Art. 13 AEUV jetzt
möglicherweise als „allgemeiner Grundsatz“ des Unionsrechts zu ver­
stehen ist,2 mag sich aus europäischer Organsicht ein breiter Zugriff auf
das Thema aufdrängen.
Sicherlich genauso interessant und bemerkenswert ist, dass der
Richtliniengeber keine Abwägung mit dem Gesundheitsschutz vor­
nimmt, obwohl Tierversuche in der Vergangenheit einen erhebli­
chen Beitrag zu einem hohen Schutzniveau für die medizinische
Versorgung geleistet haben und die Gemeinschaft sich ihrerseits
doch auf ein hohes Schutzniveau für die Gesundheit verpflichtet
hat (Art. 168 Abs. 1 AEUV). Es ist auch nirgends davon die Rede,
dass der Einsatz von Tieren für Zwecke wissenschaftlicher Forschung
eine durch die Wissenschaftsfreiheit gestützte Forschungsmethodik
ist, deren Einschränkung durch Ziele des Tierschutzes zwar mög­
lich und legitim ist, aber doch nur in Abwägung mit dem Freiheits­
recht des Forschers. Diesen grundrechtlichen Fragestellungen
nachzugehen, die spätestens seit Inkrafttreten des Vertrags von
Lissabon auch auf Gemeinschaftsebene an Bedeutung gewonnen
haben, würde hier den Rahmen sprengen. Gegenstand dieser Betrach­
tung bleibt so einzig die Kompetenz der Union zum Erlass der
Tierversuchsrichtlinie.

I. Primärrechtliche Absicherung
Vor Lissabon war der Tierschutz in der Schlussakte der Maastrichter
Konferenz vom 7. Februar 19923 in einer „Erklärung“ (Nr. 24) veran­
kert, also unterhalb der Protokollebene angesiedelt, der wohl norma­
tive Bedeutung nicht zukam.4 In der Fassung des Vertrags vom

2
 In diese Richtung jetzt (vorsichtig) M. Nettesheim, in: E. Grabitz / M. Hilf / ders.
(Hrsg.), Das Recht der Europäischen Union, Bd. I, Art. 13 AEUV Rn. 4 a.E. (4. Aufl.
2010).
3
BGBl. 1992 II S. 1323.
4
S. zu den „Erklärungen“ A. Weber, in: H. von der Groeben / J. Schwarze (Hrsg.),
Kommentar zum Vertrag über die Europäische Union und zur Gründung der
Europäischen Gemeinschaften, Art. 311 EGV Rn. 2 (6. Aufl. 2004).
 die neue tierversuchsrichtlinie 2010/63/eu1983

26. Februar 20015 wurde die „Erklärung“ zum (bereits 1997

­beschlossenen) „Protokoll“ mit der Ergänzung, der Tierschutz solle
verbessert werden und das Wohlergehen der Tiere als fühlende Wesen
solle berücksichtigt werden.6 Damit war der Tierschutz als Schutzgut
auf der Ebene des Primärrechts etabliert (s. Art. 311 EGV in der
Fassung vor Lissabon (jetzt Art. 51 EUV)),7 mit der Kraft,
Grundfreiheitsbeschränkungen rechtfertigen zu können.8
Im Vertrag von Lissabon ist der Tierschutz nun in der Form einer
sog. Querschnittsklausel (Art. 13 AEUV) aufgenommen worden. Diese
sind in Funktion und Qualität durchaus mit Staatszielbestimmungen
im nationalen Verfassungsrecht vergleichbar.9 Der Tierschutz als sol­
cher gehört dadurch aber nicht als Regelungsgegenstand in die
Verbandskompetenz der Europäischen Union.10 Folglich ist Art. 13
AEUV auch nicht Sitz einer Gesetzgebungskompetenz der Union –
auch nicht unter Rückgriff auf Art. 352 AEUV.11
Art. 36 AEUV gestattet den Mitgliedstaaten, die Warenverkehrsfrei­
heit zum „Schutz der Tiere“ einzuschränken. Grundfreiheiten können
also im Interesse des Tierschutzes eingeschränkt werden.12 Martin
Nettesheim prognostiziert, dass die restriktive Rechtsprechung dazu
auch vor dem Hintergrund des Art. 13 AEUV Bestand haben wird.13
Art. 13 AEUV meint die inhaltliche Verpflichtung auf einen ethischen
Tierschutz („fühlende Wesen“). Ein „unantastbarer Eigenwert“ wird
Tieren damit indes nicht zugesprochen. Eine rechtliche Aufwertung ist
damit, gemessen am status quo ante, also nicht verbunden.14

    5
BGBl. 2001 II S. 1667.
    6
S. Protokoll (Nr. 33) über den Tierschutz und das Wohlergehen der Tiere (1997),
ABl. C 340 vom 10.11.1997, S. 110.
    7
 EuGH, Fall C-37/06, C-58/06, Viamex Agrar Handels GmbH, Zuchtvieh-Kontor
(ZVK) v. Hauptzollamt Hamburg-Jonas, 2008 Slg. I-69, Rn. 22.
    8
 EuGH, Fall C-219/07, Nationale Raad van Dierenkwekers en Liefhebbers VZW
Andibel VZW v. Belgischer Staat, 2008 Slg. I-4475, Rn. 27, 42.
    9
So M. Kotzur, in: R. Geiger / D.-E. Khan / M. Kotzur (Hrsg.), EUV/AEUV,
Art. 8 AEUV Rn. 1 (5. Aufl. 2010).
10
 Zu Art. 3 EUV als Regelung der Verbandskompetenz s. Geiger, in: ders. / Khan /
Kotzur (Fn. 9), Art. 3 AEUV Rn. 2; gegen Unionsziel auch Nettesheim, in: Grabitz /
Hilf / ders. (Fn. 2), Bd. I, Art. 13 AEUV Rn. 2.
11
„Kompetenzbegründend wirken Querschnittsklauseln nicht“, so zutr. Kotzur,
in: Geiger / Khan / ders. (Fn. 9), Art. 8 AEUV Rn. 1; Nettesheim, in: Grabitz / Hilf /
ders. (Fn. 2), Bd. I, Art. 13 AEUV Rn. 8.
12
 Zur restriktiven Sicht des EuGH, s. Fall C 350/97, W. Monsees, 1999 Slg. I-2921;
Fall C-1/96, Compassion v. World Farming, 1998 Slg. I-1251, Rn. 64.
13
 Nettesheim, in: Grabitz / Hilf / ders. (Fn. 2), Bd. I, Art. 13 AEUV Rn. 9.
14
 Id., Rn. 12 a.E.
1984 wolfgang löwer

II. Die sekundärrechtliche Entwicklung

Gestützt auf die damalige Rechtsangleichungskompetenz hat der
Rat der Europäischen Union am 24. November 1986 eine erste
Tierversuchsrichtlinie RL 86/609/EWG15 zur Annäherung der Rechts-
und Verwaltungsvorschriften der Mitgliedstaaten zum Schutz der für
Versuche und andere wissenschaftliche Zwecke verwendeten Tiere (im
Folgenden RL 1986) erlassen. Sie nennt in ihrem normativen Teil –
also nicht nur in der Begründungserwägung – als „Ziel“ die Vermeidung
von Wettbewerbsverzerrungen oder Handelshemmnissen durch natio­
nal divergierende Vorschriften (Art. 1 RL 1986). In Art. 3 RL 1986 wer­
den die Versuchszwecke in Anlehnung an Art. 1 RL 1986 normiert, für
die die Richtlinie gelten soll: zum einen die Qualitäts-, Wirksamkeits-
und Unbedenklichkeitsprüfung von Arzneimitteln, Lebensmitteln
und anderen Stoffen und Produkten zur Verhütung, Vorbeugung,
Diagnose oder Behandlung von Krankheiten und anderen Anomalien
oder deren Folgen bei Menschen, Tieren oder Pflanzen sowie zur
Beurteilung, Feststellung, Regulierung oder Veränderung physiologi­
scher Merkmale bei Menschen, Tieren oder Pflanzen; zum anderen
den Schutz der natürlichen Umwelt im Interesse der Gesundheit oder
des Wohlbefindens von Mensch oder Tier. Hervorzuheben ist noch,
dass Art. 24 RL 1986 den Mitgliedstaaten gestattet, „strengere
Maßnahmen“ zum Schutz der für Versuchszwecke verwendeten Tiere
oder zur Kontrolle und Beschränkung der Verwendung von
Versuchstieren zu ergreifen.
Die Organe der damaligen Europäischen Wirtschaftsgemeinschaft
waren sich über die begrenzte Kompetenz in Tierversuchsfragen auf
der Basis der Harmonisierungsermächtigung durchaus klar, wie eine
Entschließung der im Rat vereinigten Vertreter der Regierungen (also
nicht des Rates selbst!) aus dem November 1986 zeigt.16 Die

15
ABl. L 358 vom 18.12.1986, S. 1.
16
 Entschließung der im Rat vereinigten Vertreter der Regierungen der
Mitgliedstaaten vom 24.11.1986 zum Schutz der für Versuche und andere wissen­
schaftliche Zwecke verwendeten Tiere, ABl. C 331 vom 23.12.1986, S. 2. Die
Handlungsform der Entschließung gehört zu den gewissermaßen apokryphen
Rechtssetzungsformen der Gemeinschaft (s. etwa zeitgenössisch, U. Everling, Zur
rechtlichen Wirkung von Beschlüssen, Entschließungen, Erklärungen und
Vereinbarungen des Rates und der Mitgliedstaaten der EG, in: Gedächtnisschrift I.
Constantinesco, 133 ff. (1983)). Beschlüsse des „Rates der vereinigten Vertreter der
Mitgliedstaaten“ wurden nicht vom Rat der Europäischen Gemeinschaft(en) gefasst,
sondern von diesen Mitgliedern „anlässlich“ einer Ratssitzung in einer Art
„Rollenwechsel“: Sie handeln nicht als Mitglieder des Rates als Gemeinschaftsorgan,
 die neue tierversuchsrichtlinie 2010/63/eu1985

Entschließung knüpft daran an, dass die 1. Tierversuchsrichtlinie 1986

nicht alle Tierversuche erfasste. Auch die vom Zweckkatalog der RL
1986 nicht erfassten Zwecke sollen aber – so die Entschließung – „klar
festgelegt und begrenzt“ werden. Es sollen deshalb nur die folgenden
Versuchszwecke gestattet werden: „a) i) Verhütung oder Vorbeugung
von Krankheiten, schlechtem Gesundheitszustand oder anderen
Anomalien oder deren Folgen bei Menschen, Wirbeltieren, Wirbellosen
oder Pflanzen, einschließlich Herstellung, Qualitäts-, Wirksamkeits-
und Unbedenklichkeitsprüfung von Arzneimitteln, Stoffen oder
Produkten, ii) Diagnose oder Behandlung von Krankheiten, schlech­
tem Gesundheitszustand oder anderen Anomalien […]; b) Beurteilung,
Feststellung, Regulierung oder Veränderung physiologischer Merkmale
bei Menschen, Wirbeltieren, Wirbellosen […]; c) Schutz der natürli­
chen Umwelt im Interesse der Gesundheit oder des Wohlbefindens von
Mensch oder Tier; d) Forschung; e) Lehre und Ausbildung; f) forensi­
sche Untersuchungen.“

III. Völkervertragliches Sekundärrecht

Der Europarat hat am 18. März 1986 ein Abkommen zum Schutz von
Versuchstieren beschlossen.17 Schon im November 1986 hat der Rat
dazu eine Entschließung vorgelegt,18 nach der die Gemeinschaft das
Übereinkommen unterzeichnet und die Mitgliedstaaten aufgefordert
werden, das Abkommen ebenfalls zu unterzeichnen. Aber erst 1998 hat
der Rat beschlossen, das Abkommen abzuschließen.19

sondern als „Regierungsvertreter in einer diplomatischen Konferenz“. Es sind deshalb

„uneigentliche Ratsbeschlüsse“ (so zum damaligen Gemeinschaftsrecht T. Oppermann,
Europarecht, Rs. 493 (1991)), sie sind exekutive politische Selbstverpflichtung, mit der
die im Rat vereinigten Minister gewissermaßen Hausaufgaben mit nach Hause neh­
men in bestimmter Weise das nationale Recht zu gestalten, ohne dadurch den nationa­
len Gesetzgeber in Pflicht nehmen zu können (s. etwa Everling, id., 138).
17
 Europäisches Abkommen vom 18.3.1986 zum Schutz der für Versuche und
andere wissenschaftliche Zwecke verwendeten Wirbeltiere, abgedruckt bei A. Lorz /
E. Metzger (Hrsg.), Tierschutzgesetz Kommentar, 579 ff. ( 6. Aufl. 2008).
18
 Entschließung des Rates vom 24.11.1986 über die Unterzeichnung durch die
Mitgliedstaaten des Europäischen Übereinkommens zum Schutz der zu Versuchen
oder anderen wissenschaftlichen Zwecken verwendeten Wirbeltieren, ABl. C 331 vom
23.12.1986, S. 1.
19
1999/575/EG: Beschluss des Rates vom 23.3.1998 über den Abschluss des
Europäischen Übereinkommens zum Schutz der für Versuche und andere wissen­
schaftliche Zwecke verwendeten Wirbeltiere durch die Gemeinschaft, ABl. L 222 vom
24.8.1999, S. 29 f.
1986 wolfgang löwer

Die Gründe für den Beitritt werden darin gefunden, dass das
Übereinkommen Auswirkungen auf die Bedingungen für Produktion
und Inverkehrbringen der Erzeugnisse und Substanzen hat, bei deren
Entwicklung Tierversuche durchgeführt worden sind: Es soll also ein
Beitrag zum ordnungsgemäßen Funktionieren des Binnenmarktes
geleistet werden.20 Folglich nimmt der Ratifikationsbeschluss als
Ermächtigungsgrundlage die damalige Harmonisierungskompetenz21
und die Vertragsschlusskompetenz (Art. 228 EGV in der damaligen
Fassung vor Amsterdam) in Anspruch.
Ob die Gemeinschaft kompetentiell das Abkommen in seiner
Geltungsbreite der normierten Versuchszwecke auf der Basis der
Produktharmonisierung abschließen durfte, ist so selbstverständlich
nicht. Sicher sind Tierversuchskosten Teil der Generierungskosten für
neue Produkte, so dass die Kompetenz dafür begründet ist. Aber würde
eine solche Begründung auch für die Regelung der Tierversuche für
wissenschaftliche Forschung außerhalb dieses Sachbezugs ganz gene­
rell greifen? Trüge sie für Tierversuche in der Bildung, Ausbildung und
der forensischen Untersuchung? Diese Fragen werden auch noch bei
der hier zu betrachtenden RL 2010 relevant.

IV. Nach dem Vertrag von Lissabon: RL 2010

Die neue Tierversuchsrichtlinie vom 22. September 2010 knüpft wie
schon die Vorgängervorschrift an die Binnenmarktkompetenz an.22
Überaus auffällig ist im Vergleich der RL 1986 und der RL 2010 die
Differenz in der Eingangsbestimmung und hinsichtlich der limitierten
Zwecke des Tiereinsatzes. Während Art. 3 RL 1986 den Ausgangspunkt
in der Prüfung von Arzneimitteln etc. bestimmt und dadurch den
Bezug zu Art. 1 RL 1986, also zu dem dort normierten Binnenmarktbezug
herstellt, reflektiert die RL 2010 den Binnenmarkt als Regelungsziel

20
S. Erwägungsgrund (2) des Ratifikationsbeschlusses vom 23.3.1998.
21
Art. 100a EGV = Art. 95 EGV i.d.F. v. Amsterdam = Art. 114 AEUV; Art. 228
EGV = Art. 300 EGV i.d.F. v. Amsterdam = ersetzt durch Art. 218 AEUV.
22
Art. 100a EWGV (= Art. 95 EGV, vgl. jetzt Art. 114 AEUV) wurde erst mit
Wirkung zum 1.6.1987 – also nach Erlass der Richtlinie 86/609/EWG – in den Vertrag
eingefügt. W. Kahl, in: C. Calliess / M. Ruffert (Hrsg.), EUV/EGV, Kommentar, Art. 95
EGV Rn. 1 (3. Aufl. 2007); zum Verhältnis zwischen Art. 100 und Art. 100a EWGV
(= Art. 94 und Art. 95 EGV, jetzt geregelt in Art. 114 und 115 AEUV) siehe C. Tietje,
in: Grabitz / Hilf (Hrsg.), Das Recht der Europäischen Union, Art. 94 EGV Rn. 4 f.
(4. Aufl. 2009).
 die neue tierversuchsrichtlinie 2010/63/eu1987

nur noch im Erwägungsgrund (1).23 Dort heißt es mit Hinweis auf

die divergierenden nationalen Schutzvorschriften, diese „können
Hindernisse für den Handel mit Erzeugnissen und Stoffen darstellen,
bei deren Entwicklung Tierversuche durchgeführt werden. Daher
sollte die vorliegende Richtlinie eingehendere Bestimmungen vorse­
hen, um solche Unterschiede durch die Angleichung der Vorschriften
in diesem Bereich zu reduzieren, um ein reibungsloses Funktionieren
des Binnenmarktes zu gewährleisten.“Der letzte Erwägungsgrund (56)
löst sich dann aber vom Erwägungsgrund (1), wenn in „schöner
Offenheit“ erklärt wird:
„Da das Ziel dieser Richtlinie, nämlich die Harmonisierung der
Rechtsvorschriften zur Verwendung von Tieren zu wissenschaftlichen
Zwecken, auf der Ebene der Mitgliedstaaten nicht ausreichend verwirk­
licht werden kann […], kann die Union […] tätig werden. Entsprechend
dem […] Grundsatz der Verhältnismäßigkeit geht dieses Richtlinie
nicht über das zur Erreichung dieses Ziels erforderliche Maß hinaus.“
(Hervorhebung nur hier).
Dementsprechend nehmen die übrigen 54 Erwägungsgründe auch
nur auf den Tierschutz Bezug.
Art. 1 Abs. 1 RL 2010 knüpft denn auch an Erwägungsgrund (56)
(und nicht an Nr. 1) an: Schutzgegenstand sind ganz generell
Versuchstiere.24 Die erfassten Versuchszwecke werden gegenüber der
RL 1986 erweitert: Der eigentlich binnenmarktbezogene Ansatz bei
der Entwicklung von Arzneien, Medizinprodukten etc. wird nur noch
neben anderen Zwecken geführt. In Art. 5 RL 2010 werden als erfasste
Versuchszwecke neu eingefügt: die Grundlagenforschung (lit. a)); die
translationale Forschung oder angewandte Forschung mit den
Bezugspunkten Behandlung von Krankheiten, Physiologie und
Wohlergehen der Tiere (lit. b)); Forschung im Hinblick auf Erhaltung
der Art (lit. e)); Ausbildung an Hochschulen oder Ausbildung von
beruflichen Fähigkeiten (lit. f)); forensische Untersuchungen (lit. g)).
Die Arzneimittelforschung wird von der translationalen Forschung

23
 Erwähnung findet er noch in der Kompetenzgrundlage sowie ferner in
Erwägungsgrund (35).
24
Abgrenzend ausgeschlossen werden die landwirtschaftliche Tierhaltung und
die veterinärmedizinische Praxis, aber auch – wenig verständlich im Sinne des
Erwägungsgrundes (1) – veterinärmedizinische klinische Prüfungen, die für die
Zulassung eines Tierarzneimittels verlangt werden (Art. 1 Abs. 5 lit. c) RL 2010).
Soll das Prinzip des ethischen Tierschutzes für die Entwicklung von Tierarzneimitteln
nicht gelten?
1988 wolfgang löwer

getrennt und als eigene Zwecklichkeit an die translationale Forschung

rückgebunden (lit. c)); der Schutz der natürlichen Umwelt (lit. d)) wird
ebenfalls perpetuiert. Diese Zweckanreicherung entspricht dem
umfassenden Zugriff in Erwägungsgrund (56). Für andere wissen­
schaftliche Zwecke, als sie die Richtlinie normiert, ist kein Raum,25
Das belegt den normativen Willen einer abschließenden Kodifikation
des Tierversuchsrechts.26 Damit wird die wohl eigentliche Intention
der Tierversuchsrichtlinie deutlich: die Umsetzung eines umfassenden
einheitlichen Tierschutzes auf europäischer Ebene im Bereich der
wissenschaftlichen Tierversuche. Die Frage zu stellen, inwieweit der
europäische Gesetzgeber die Tierversuchsrichtlinie auf die Binnen­
marktkompetenz stützen konnte, ist also aus mitgliedstaatlicher Sicht
durchaus geboten.

B. Vorbemerkungen zur gesetzgebungskompetentiellen

Prüfung

Die Kompetenznormen des Gemeinschaftsrechts sind nicht mit

dem aus der bundesstaatlichen Kompetenzausscheidung bekannten
Normtypus vergleichbar, soweit bundesstaatliche Verfassungen mit
Enumerationen von Kompetenztiteln arbeiten. Hier muss unter
Begriffe, die zumeist einen entstehungszeitlich klaren Zuweisungsgehalt
haben, subsumiert werden. Insofern ist es nicht erstaunlich, dass die
häufig bloß finale Struktur der Kompetenzvorschriften des Gemein­
schaftsrechts es schwierig macht, eine gesicherte Grenzlinie für die
Verbandskompetenz der Gemeinschaft zu finden.27 Das Bundesver­
fassungsgericht hat schon im Maastricht-Urteil28 verdeutlicht, dass die

25
S. Art. 3 Nr. 1 RL 2010 (mit der Definition des Verfahrens: „jede invasive oder
nicht invasive Verwendung eines Tieres zu Versuchszwecken …“) i.V.m. Art. 5 S. 1 RL
2010 (Verfahren dürfen ausschließlich zu folgenden Zwecken durchgeführt
werden: …).
26
Folgenlos bleibt eine Limitierung für die Erkenntnisinteressen, die mit
Tierversuchen verbunden sein können, übrigens nicht (denn Tierversuche, wie es § 7
Abs. 4 TierSchG ausdrückt, zur Entwicklung oder Erprobung von Waffen, Munition
und dazugehörigem Gerät sind damit kraft europäischen Rechts ebenso verboten, wie
Tierversuche zur Entwicklung von Tabakerzeugnissen, Waschmitteln oder Kosmetika
(§ 7 Abs. 5 TierSchG)).
27
 Zur Kritik am vorgeblich „extensiven Kompetenzauslegungsverständnis“ des
EuGH, s. z.B. F. Müller / R. Christensen, Juristische Methodik, Bd. II, Europarecht,
Rn. 453 ff. ( 2. Aufl. 2007).
28
BVerfGE 89, 155, 209 f. – Maastricht.
 die neue tierversuchsrichtlinie 2010/63/eu1989

Gemeinschaftsorgane nicht die Kompetenz haben, die Verbands­

kompetenz autonom, also aus eigener Kompetenz, zu erweitern.
Dieser Gesichtspunkt muss dann auch bei der Handhabung der
Einzelermächtigungen Bedeutung haben. Die Auslegung des
Primärrechts darf im Ergebnis nicht einer Vertragsänderung gleich­
kommen. Im vorliegenden Zusammenhang müsste man z.B. beden­
ken, dass die Querschnittsklausel eines hohen Tierschutzniveaus keine
Gesetzgebungskompetenz vermittelt, so dass diese – auch nicht quasi
„durch die Hintertür“ einer extensiven Kompetenzauslegung einer
anderen Kompetenzvorschrift [der Querschnittsklausel] im Ergebnis
zuwachsen dürfte.
Das Bundesverfassungsgericht hat diese Linie auch in seinem
Lissabon-Urteil beibehalten.
„Wenn Gesetzgebungs- oder Verwaltungszuständigkeiten nur unbe­
stimmt oder zur dynamischen Fortentwicklung übertragen werden
oder wenn die Organe Zuständigkeiten neu begründen, erweiternd
abrunden oder sachlich ausdehnen dürfen, laufen sie Gefahr, das vor­
herbestimmte Integrationsprogramm zu überschreiten und außerhalb
ihrer Ermächtigung zu handeln. Sie bewegen sich auf einem Pfad,
an dessen Ende die Verfügungsgewalt über ihre vertraglichen
Grundlagen steht, das heißt die Kompetenz, über ihre Kompetenzen
zu disponieren.“29
Das Gericht verdeutlicht, dass das Prinzip der begrenzten
Einzelermächtigung „konstitutiv“ ist, wenn die Mitgliedstaaten die
Verantwortung für das Integrationsprogramm tragen wollen. Die
europäische Integration muss „weiter dem Prinzip der begrenzten
Einzelermächtigung folgen“.30 Das zeigt, dass die Interpretation den
Blankettcharakter der Vorschriften tunlich im Wege der Auslegung
eingrenzen und die Eingrenzung auch durch eine Effektuierung
der primärrechtlich vorgesehenen Kompetenzausübungsschranken
ermöglicht werden muss (s. Art. 5 EUV). Stichworte sind also „begrenzte
Ermächtigung, Subsidiarität, Verhältnismäßigkeit.“31
Dagegen ist mit Thomas von Danwitz (jedenfalls für den hier rele­
vanten Bereich der Rechtsangleichung) bedauerlicherweise zu konsta­
tieren, dass dogmatische Analysen oder allgemeine Rechtsgrundsätze

29
BVerfGE 123, 267, 352 – Lissabon.
30
 Id., 353.
31
S. dazu W. Frenz, Handbuch Europarecht, Bd. 6, Institutionen und Politiken,
Rn. 3518 ff. (2011).
1990 wolfgang löwer

für eine Lehre von der europäischen Rechtsangleichung weitgehend

fehlen. Das sei ebenso erstaunlich wie beklagenswert32 – was, so wird
man hinzufügen müssen, Bemühungen zu einer Eingrenzung der
Kompetenz nicht überflüssig33 macht. Die Rechtsangleichung unter­
liegt heute dem Mehrheitsbeschlussverfahren. Das macht die Kompe­
tenzeingrenzung im Interesse der Minderheit dringlicher. Schon bei
geforderter Einstimmigkeit ist die vertragliche Kompetenzordnung
faktisch durch das Prinzip ‘volenti non fit iniuria’ gewissermaßen sub­
kutan geschwächt gewesen.34
Bei der nachfolgenden Analyse stehen im Zentrum die Kompe­
tenzübergangsgrenzen durch das Prinzip der begrenzten Einzeler­
mächtigung im Rahmen der Rechtsangleichung.

C. RL 2010 und Binnenmarktkompetenz

I. Die Binnenmarktkompetenz in der Rechtsprechung des EuGH

Durch den Verweis auf das Binnenmarktziel gestaltet sich der
Anwendungsbereich der Kompetenznorm des Art. 114 AEUV –
vorbehaltlich spezieller Kompetenzen – zunächst denkbar weit. Würde
man allerdings eine allgemeine Kompetenz zur Regelung des
Binnenmarktes annehmen, wäre dem Grundsatz der begrenzten
Einzelermächtigung, wie auch der EuGH zugesteht, nicht mehr ausrei­
chend Rechnung getragen.35 Der EuGH hat deshalb (bedingt erfolg­
reich) versucht, der Binnenmarktkompetenz Konturen zu verleihen.
Dabei ist nach ständiger Rechtsprechung des Gerichtshofs auf objek­
tive, gerichtlich nachprüfbare Umstände abzustellen, zu denen insbe­
sondere das Ziel und der Inhalt des Rechtsakts gehören.36

32
S. T. von Danwitz, Rechtsetzung und Rechtsangleichung, in: M. Dauses (Hrsg.)
Handbuch des EU-Wirtschaftsrechts, Bd. I, B II, Rn. 85 (2010).
33
S. jetzt immerhin C. Trüe, Das System der Rechtsetzungskompetenz der
Europäischen Gemeinschaft und der Europäischen Union, 262–272 (2002); zur
Rechtsangleichung, im Anschluss an diese Monographie dies., Das System der
EU-Kompetenzen vor und nach dem Entwurf eines Europäischen Verfassungsvertrages,
64 Zeitschrift für ausländisches öffentliches Recht und Völkerrecht 391 ff. (2004); sowie
A. Ihns, Entwicklung und Grundlagen der europäischen Rechtsangleichung, § 106 ff.
(2005).
34
S. den Hinweis bei von Danwitz, in: Dauses (Fn. 32), B II, Rn. 87.
35
 EuGH, Fall C-376/98, Tabakwerbung, Slg. 2000, S. I-8419, Rn. 83.
36
St. Rsp., EuGH, Fall C-300/89, Titandioxid, 1991 Slg. I-2867, Rn. 10; Fall C-491/01,
British American Tobacco, 2002 Slg. I-11453, Rn. 93; Fall C-301/06, Vorratsdaten­
speicherung, 2009 Slg. I-593, Rn. 60.
 die neue tierversuchsrichtlinie 2010/63/eu1991

1. Eine Harmonisierung auf Grundlage der Binnenmarktkompetenz

kann dann erfolgen, wenn die Unterschiede zwischen nationalen
Regelungen „geeignet sind, die Grundfreiheiten zu beeinträchtigen
oder Wettbewerbsverzerrungen zu verursachen und sich auf diese
Weise unmittelbar auf das Funktionieren des Binnenmarkts auszuwir­
ken“.37 Dabei müssen Handelshemmnisse und Wettbewerbsverzerrungen
nicht kumulativ vorliegen.38 Die Binnenmarktkompetenz kann sogar
„als Rechts­grundlage herangezogen werden, um der Entstehung neuer
Hindernisse für den Handel infolge einer heterogenen Entwicklung der
nationalen Rechtsvorschriften vorzubeugen, doch muss das Entstehen
solcher Hindernisse wahrscheinlich sein“.39 Im Normalfall stellt der
EuGH (zumindest in älterer Rechtsprechung) auch darauf ab, dass sich
bei Erlass des jeweiligen Rechtsaktes bereits deutliche Unterschiede
zwischen bestimmten nationalen Rechtsordnungen mit beträchtlichen
Folgen gezeigt haben.40
Unklar ist, wie konkret die Gefahr sein muss. Nach der Recht­
sprechung des EuGH scheint mittlerweile eine abstrakte Gefahr auszu­
reichen, wenn er nur eine heterogene Entwicklung der Rechtsordnungen
der Mitgliedstaaten verlangt, die „geeignet“ ist, die Grundfreiheiten zu
beeinträchtigen.41 Wenn bei vorbeugender Harmonisierung die

37
Fall C-301/06,Vorratsdatenspeicherung, 2009 Slg. I-593, Rn. 63; vgl. EuGH, Fall
C-380/03, Tabakwerbung II, 2006 Slg. I-11573, Rn. 37; EuGH, Fall C-434/02, Arnold
André, 2004 Slg. I-11825, Rn. 30.
38
So jetzt ausdrücklich EuGH, Fall C-380/03, Tabakwerbung II, 2006 Slg. I-11573,
Rn. 67; ebenso Tietje, in: Grabitz / Hilf (Fn. 22), Art. 95 EGV Rn. 38 m.w.N., differen­
zierend noch in Rn. 19; ausführlich M. Schweitzer / W. Schroeder / Y. Bock,
EG-Binnenmarkt und Gesundheitsschutz, 33 ff. (2002).
39
 EuGH, Fall C-350/92, Spanien v. Rat, 1995 Slg. I-1985, Rn. 35; Fall C-376/98,
Tabakwerbung, 2000 Slg. I-8419, Rn. 86; Fall C-377/98, Niederlande v. Parlament, 2001
Slg. I-7079, Rn. 15; Fall C-491/01, British American Tobacco, 2002 Slg. I-11453, Rn. 61;
Fall C-380/03, Tabakwerbung II, 2006 Slg. I-11573, Rn. 38; Fall C-301/06,
Vorratsdatenspeicherung, 2009 Slg. I-593, Rn. 64 – Hervorhebung nur hier.
40
Vgl. EuGH, Fall C-377/98, Niederlande/Parlament, 2001 Slg. I-7079, Rn. 15, 17;
Fall C-491/01, British American Tobacco, 2002 Slg. I-11453, Rn. 61 ff.
41
So wohl EuGH, Fall C-434/02, Arnold André, 2004 Slg. I-11825, Rn. 30 sowie Fall
C-380/03, Tabakwerbung II, 2006 Slg. I-11573, Rn. 37 m.w.N.; krit. A. M. Schneider,
EU-Kompetenzen einer Europäischen Energiepolitik, 162, 166 (2010) unter Verweis
auf EuGH, Fall C-376/98, Tabakwerbung, 2000 Slg. 2000 I-8419, Rn. 84. Tatsächlich
ist die Bezugnahme in Tabakwerbung II auf vorangehende Rechtsprechung fehler­
haft, da die zitierten Stellen nicht von einer bloßen „Eignung“ zur Beeinträchtigung
sondern ausdrücklich von der „Beseitigung von Hemmnissen“ oder aber „Wettbewerbs­
verzerrungen“ (also nicht nur abstrakten Gefahren für den Binnenmarkt!) sprechen.
Nach Tietje, in: Grabitz / Hilf (Fn. 22), Art. 95 EGV Rn. 29 unter Berufung auf
EuGH, Fall C-350/92, Spanien/Rat, 1995 Slg. I-1985, Rn. 33 ff., genügen unterschiedli­
che produktbezogene Regelungen, da diese Handelshemmnisse indizieren.
1992 wolfgang löwer

Wahrscheinlichkeit einer heterogenen Entwicklung geprüft wird,

reicht die bloß abstrakte Eignung einer heterogenen Rechtsentwicklung
nicht aus.42 Sonst würde dem Prinzip der begrenzten Einzelermächti­
gung nach Art. 5 Abs. 2 EUV nicht ausreichend Rechnung getragen;
der Harmonisierung der Rechtsvorschriften wäre durch das Einfallstor
der Binnenmarktkompetenz Tür und Tor geöffnet. Allerdings stellt der
EuGH in der Tat recht geringe Anforderungen an das Ausmaß der
(bestehenden oder wahrscheinlichen) Handelshemmnisse.43
Schließlich hat der EuGH im Zusammenhang mit Wettbe­
werbsverzerrungen postuliert, dass dieselben spürbar sein müssen.
Andernfalls – so das Gericht völlig zu Recht – seien der Zuständigkeit
des Gemeinschaftsgesetzgebers keine Grenzen gesetzt.44 Kann ein
Rechtsetzungsakt aber alternativ auf Handelshemmnisse oder Wettbe­
werbsverzerrungen gestützt werden, erscheint es eher konsequent, das
Spürbarkeitserfordernis auch auf Handelshemmnisse zu übertragen.45

2. Maßnahmen, die auf die Binnenmarktkompetenz gestützt werden,

sollen „die Bedingungen für die Errichtung und das Funktionieren
des Binnenmarktes verbessern […] und [müssen] tatsächlich dieses
Ziel verfolgen […], indem sie zur Beseitigung von Hemmnissen
für den freien Waren- oder Dienstleistungsverkehr oder aber von
Wettbewerbsverzerrungen beitragen“.46 Auch soweit es um Vorbeu­
gung zur Vermeidung der Entstehung neuer Hindernisse für den
Handel geht, muss „die fragliche Maßnahme ihre Vermeidung
bezwecken“.47

42
Vgl. von Danwitz, in: Dauses (Fn. 32) B II, Rn. 103, 120: „konkrete
Handelshemmnisse“. Diese Schlussfolgerung zieht Schneider (Fn. 41), 166, gerade
nicht.
43
Vgl. nur EuGH, Fall C-491/01, British American Tobacco, 2002 Slg. I-11453, Rn.
64 ff.; Fall C-301/06, Vorratsdatenspeicherung, 2009 Slg. I-593, Rn. 64 ff.
44
So jedenfalls EuGH, Fall C-376/98, Tabakwerbung, 2000 Slg. I-8419, Rn. 106 f.
unter Berufung auf EuGH, Fall C-300/89, Titanoxid, 1991 Slg. I-2867, Rn. 23.
45
von Danwitz, in: Dauses (Fn. 22) B II, Rn. 120: Die Beeinträchtigungswirkung
muss von gewissem Gewicht sein. Strukturell anders Tietje, in: Grabitz / Hilf
(Fn. 22), Art. 95 EGV Rn. 29 ff.; vgl. auch die Nachw. bei O. Remien, in: R. Schulze /
M. Zuleeg / S. Kadelbach (Hrsg.), Europarecht, § 14 Rn. 7 (2. Aufl. 2010).
46
 EuGH, Fall C-376/98, Tabakwerbung, 2000 Slg. I-8419, Rn. 83 f., 95; Fall C-491/01,
British American Tobacco, 2002 Slg. I-11453, Rn. 60.
47
 EuGH, Fall C-376/98, Tabakwerbung, 2000 Slg. I-8419, Rn. 86; Fall C-377/98,
Niederlande/Parlament, 2001 Slg. I-7079, Rn. 15; Fall C-491/01, British American
Tobacco, 2002 Slg. I-11453, Rn. 61; Fall C-380/03, Tabakwerbung II, 2006 Slg. I-11573,
Rn. 38; Fall C-301/06, Vorratsdatenspeicherung, 2009 Slg. I-593, Rn. 64.
 die neue tierversuchsrichtlinie 2010/63/eu1993

Der gegenständliche Rechtsakt muss also zunächst tatsächlich

auf die Verbesserung des Binnenmarktes gerichtet sein. Nach
Rechtsprechung des EuGH kommt es dabei auf die wesentliche oder
überwiegende Zielsetzung an, wobei unter Umständen auch zwei
Zuständigkeitsbestimmungen anzuwenden sind, sofern diese sich hin­
sichtlich des Gesetzgebungsverfahrens nicht gegenseitig ausschlie­
ßen.48 Damit enthält der Tatbestand gewissermaßen ein subjektives
Element. Gerade in neuerer Rechtsprechung ist aber zu beobachten,
dass der EuGH die Zwecksetzung „Binnenmarktharmonisierung“
auch dann akzeptiert, wenn nur ein weitläufiger Bezug zu erkennen ist
und eigentlich andere Ziele verfolgt werden. So entspricht es zwar
ständiger und wegen Art. 114 Abs. 3 AEUV auch überzeugender
Rechtsprechung, dass eine Harmonisierungsmaßnahme auch dann
möglich ist, wenn dem Gesundheitsschutz bei den zu treffenden
Entscheidungen maßgebliche Bedeutung zukommt.49 Wird aber ein
Produkt aus Gründen des Gesundheitsschutzes verboten und gleichzei­
tig argumentiert, dass ein Verbot derzeit in einzelnen Mitgliedstaaten
Handelshemmnisse hervorrufe,50 ist nicht mehr recht verständlich,
warum die Binnen­marktkompetenz Grundlage sein soll. Immerhin
werden die Handels­hemmnisse durch ein vollständiges Verbot noch
intensiviert.51 „Vorteil“ ist aber sicherlich, dass das Harmonisie­
rungsverbot des Art. 152 Abs. 4 lit. c) EGV (Art. 168 Abs. 5 AEUV) bei
Rechtsakten auf Grundlage der Binnenmarktkompetenz nicht greifen
soll.52 Auch im Urteil zur Vorratsdatenspeicherung reichte es dem
EuGH, dass die Richtlinie sich im Wesentlichen auf Tätigkeiten der
Diensteanbieter beschränkt und nicht den Zugang zu den Daten
zwecks Strafverfolgung regele.53 Allerdings wird die harmonisierte

48
Vgl. EuGH, Fall C-300/89, Titandioxid, 1991 Slg. I-2867, Rn. 13, 17 ff.; EuGH, Fall
C-491/01, British American Tobacco, 2002 Slg. I-11453, Rn. 94; s. auch u. D.I.
49
 EuGH, Fall C-376/98, Tabakwerbung, 2000 Slg. I-8419, Rn. 88; Fall C-491/01,
British American Tobacco, 2002 Slg. I-11453, Rn. 62; Fall C-434/02, Arnold André, 2004
Slg. I-11825, Rn. 32 sowie Fall C-380/03, Tabakwerbung II, 2006 Slg. I-11573, Rn. 39.
50
 EuGH, Fall C-434/02, Arnold André, 2004 Slg. I-11825, Rn. 34 ff.
51
 Kritisch Schneider (Fn. 41), 165 ff.; vgl. auch J. Schwarze, Grenzen des
Richterrechts in der europäischen Rechtsordnung – Anmerkungen zu dem Tabak­
werbeurteil des EuGH vom 12 Dezember 2006, in: FS Hirsch, 165, 167 f., 170
(2008): den Teufel mit dem Beelzebub austreiben. Siehe aber von Danwitz, in: Dauses
(Fn. 32), B II, Rn. 124, der die Binnenmarktkompetenz dann für einschlägig hält, wenn
nicht nur das Verbot der wirtschaftlichen Betätigung Ziel ist.
52
 EuGH, Fall C-380/03, Tabakwerbung II, 2006 Slg. I-11573, Rn. 92 ff.
53
 EuGH, Fall C-301/06, Vorratsdatenspeicherung, 2009 Slg. I-593, Rn. 80 ff. zustim­
mend W. Frenz, Informationelle Selbstbestimmung im Spiegel des BVerfG, Deutsches
Verwaltungsblatt 333 ff. (2009).
1994 wolfgang löwer

Regelung zumindest irgendeinen Bezug zum Binnenmarkt haben

müssen, auch wenn keine allzu hohen Anforderungen gestellt werden
können.
Nicht unproblematisch ist auch die Anforderung, dass der
Rechtsetzungsakt zur Beseitigung der Beeinträchtigung des Binnen­
marktes beitragen muss. Der EuGH hat diese Voraussetzungen aus­
führlich in seinem Urteil zur Tabakwerbung54 geprüft und eine
Berufung auf die Binnenmarktkompetenz unter anderem abgelehnt,
weil durch die Möglichkeit der Mitgliedstaaten, strengere Vorschriften
zu erlassen, nicht einmal der freie Handel mit Produkten ermöglicht
werde, die der Richtlinie entsprächen. Auf die Voraussetzung des
„Beitragens“ verzichtet der EuGH – soweit ersichtlich – in späteren
Entscheidungen. In der Tat ähnelt das Erfordernis bereits in Teilen
dem Verhältnismäßigkeitsgrundsatz („geeignet“). Dennoch ist nicht
gänzlich auf ein gewisses Maß an Konnexität zu verzichten, da andern­
falls der Richtliniengeber jegliche Regelung treffen könnte, wenn nur
ein taugliches Ziel formuliert wird. Auch wenn der EuGH in jüngeren
Entscheidungen nicht mehr explizit von „beitragen“ spricht, so muss
doch die Maßnahme immer noch geeignet zur Harmonisierung sein.
Nach der hier vertretenen Auffassung ist dies nicht eine abstrakte
Geeignetheit zur Beseitigung eines abstrakten Hemmnisses, sondern
es muss eine (tatsächliche) Eignung zur Beseitigung eines bereits ein­
getretenen oder wahrscheinlichen Handelshemmnisses gegeben sein.55

3. Als Zwischenfazit lässt sich festhalten, dass der EU-Gesetzgeber zur

Harmonisierung von unterschiedlichen nationalen Rechtsvorschriften,

54
 EuGH, Fall C-376/98, Tabakwerbung, 2000 Slg. I-8419, Rn. 95 ff.
55
Vgl. auch EuGH, Fall C-380/03, Tabakwerbung II, 2006 Slg. I-11573, Rn. 69 ff.,
wo zumindest implizit eine Eignung geprüft wird; D. König, in: Schulze / Zuleeg /
Kadelbach (Fn. 45), § 2 Rn. 14, „objektiv geeignet sein“; Gleichwohl ist nicht zu verken­
nen, dass der EuGH teilweise aus nur schwer nachvollziehbaren Gründen eine Eignung
zur Harmonisierung des Binnenmarktes erkannte. So können Handelshemmnisse
mitunter auch beseitigt werden, indem der Vertrieb eines gesundheitsschädlichen
Produktes ganz verboten wird (vgl. EuGH Fall C-434/02, Arnold André, 2004 Slg.
I-11825, Rn. 34 ff.). In seinem Urteil zur Vorratsdatenspeicherung verzichtet der EuGH
ohne ausdrückliche Distanzierung von früherer Rechtsprechung ganz auf eine Eignung
der Regelung zur Beseitigung von Störungen des Binnenmarktes und stellt nur noch
auf die Zielrichtung des Normgebers ab (Fall C-301/06, Vorratsdatenspeicherung, 2009
Slg. I-593, Rn. 60 ff.); von Danwitz, in: Dauses (Fn. 32), B II, Rn. 117 m. Fn. 400, ent­
nimmt dennoch auch dieser Entscheidung das Erfordernis des „Beitragens“ und stellt
in Rn. 88 ausdrücklich auf den konkreten Nutzen ab.
 die neue tierversuchsrichtlinie 2010/63/eu1995

die zu Handelshemmnissen oder Wettbewerbsverzerrungen führen,

tätig werden darf, wenn Handelshemmnisse wahrscheinlich oder
Wettbewerbsverzerrungen spürbar sind und die getroffenen Maß­
nahmen die Harmonisierung tatsächlich herbeiführen können. Dabei
sind weder allzu hohe Anforderungen an das Maß der Gefahr für den
gemeinsamen Binnenmarkt noch an die Zielsetzung Binnenmarkt­
harmonisierung zu stellen.

II. Tierversuchsrichtlinie und Binnenmarktkompetenz

Nach diesen Anforderungen konnte der Richtliniengeber die
Tierversuchsrichtlinie nicht vollumfänglich auf die Binnenmarkt­
kompetenz nach Art. 114 AEUV stützen.

1. Handelshemmnisse oder Wettbewerbsverzerrungen

Die Mitgliedstaaten weisen ein unterschiedliches Schutzniveau
hinsichtlich des Tierschutzes bei Tierversuchen auf. Das unter­
schiedliche Schutzniveau ergibt sich nach Erwägungsgrund (1) der
Tierversuchsrichtlinie daraus, dass nach Einführung der RL 1986
einige Staaten ein hohes Schutzniveau etabliert, während andere
Staaten nur die Mindestanforderungen der Richtlinie umgesetzt haben.
So bestehen nach Erwägungsgrund (35) beispielsweise Unterschiede
bei den Anforderungen an die Unterbringung und Pflege von Tieren.
Diese unterschiedliche Rechtslage ist geeignet, die Grundfreiheiten zu
beeinträchtigen und sich auf diese Weise unmittelbar auf das
Funktionieren des Binnenmarktes auszuwirken.
Dabei spricht auch die bereits erfolgte Umsetzung einer
Vorgängerrichtlinie für Teilbereiche und Mindestanforderungen nicht
per se gegen ein weitergehendes Harmonisierungsbedürfnis.56

2. Zweck: Harmonisierung des Binnenmarktes

Der Richtliniengeber bezweckt zunächst die Harmonisierung des
Binnenmarktes. Ausweislich des Erwägungsgrundes (1) der RL 2010
sollen die gegenüber der Vorgängerrichtlinie eingehenderen
Bestimmungen zum Tierschutz die bestehenden Unterschiede anglei­
chen und so ein reibungsloses Funktionieren des Binnenmarktes
gewährleisten. Mehr Erwägungen als die abstrakte Bekundung, die

 EuGH, Fall C-491/01, British American Tobacco, 2002 Slg. I-11453, Rn. 64 ff.
56
1996 wolfgang löwer

unterschiedlichen nationalen Tierversuchsvorschriften könnten sich

als Hindernis für Erzeugnisse und Stoffe darstellen, findet man hinge­
gen nicht.
Insofern bestehen doch im Hinblick auf den Regelungsgehalt und
die deutliche Fokussierung auf den Tierschutz bei Tierversuchen
Bedenken, ob nicht die Binnenmarktkompetenz gewissermaßen nur
vorgeschoben wird. Vor dem Hintergrund einer recht großzügi­
gen Rechtsprechung des EuGH dürfte es aber genügen, wenn die
Zielrichtung – wie hier – zumindest einen rudimentären Binnenmarkt­
bezug aufweist. Ob andere Kompetenzgrundlagen einschlägig wären
und welche Rechtsfolgen eine falsche Zielsetzung und Rechtsgrund­
lagenbenennung hätte, ist später näher zu betrachten.57

3. „Beitragen“ der Richtlinie zur Beseitigung von Handelshemmnissen

oder Wettbewerbsverzerrungen: insbesondere Grundlagenforschung
a. Grundlagenforschung
Es gibt gewiss eine Vielzahl von Versuchen, die im Sinne der
Binnenmarktkompetenz gerechtfertigt einem vereinheitlichten Regime
unterworfen werden können. Das gilt, wie schon die RL 1986
gezeigt hat, für die vorklinischen Tierversuche für die Gewinnung
neuer Wirkstoffe oder Wirkstoffkombinationen im Rahmen des
Arzneimittelrechts, des Medizinproduktegesetzes oder des Stoffrechts.
Tierversuche sind ein nicht zu vernachlässigender kostenwirksamer
Teil der Produktgenerierung, so dass die Union im Interesse auch der
Durchsetzung eines hohen Tierschutzniveaus rechtsangleichend ein­
greifen darf.
Keineswegs offensichtlich ist allerdings, dass auch die harmonisie­
rende Erfassung der Grundlagenforschung nach Art. 5 lit. a) RL 2010
der Tierversuchsrichtlinie zur Beseitigung von Handelshemmnissen
oder Wettbewerbsverzerrungen beitragen kann. Grundlagenforschung
zielt begrifflich nicht auf die Entwicklung eines Produktes, sondern
beschäftigt sich mit grundlegenden wissenschaftlichen Fragestellungen,
deren Ergebnis nur möglicherweise in Zukunft translational „weiter“-
forschend produktrelevant werden.
Unternehmen als Harmonisierungsdestinatäre sind in ihrer unter­
nehmenseigenen Forschung regelmäßig nicht in der Grundlagen­
forschung engagiert (Ausnahmen gibt es). Grundlagenforschung ist

57
Vgl. auch EuGH, Fall C-491/01, British American Tobacco, 2002 Slg. I-11453, Rn.
100 ff., der eine Kompetenzkollision ebenfalls nachgelagert prüft.
 die neue tierversuchsrichtlinie 2010/63/eu1997

eben typischerweise hochschulische Aufgabe oder sie ist staatlich

finanzierten außeruniversitären Forschungseinrichtungen aufgetra­
gen. Daher wird teilweise ohne nähere Begründung vertreten, dass der
EU-Gesetzgeber Regelungen über Tierversuche in der Grundlagen­
forschung mangels Binnenmarktrelevanz nicht auf die Binnenmarkt­
kompetenz stützen könne.58
aa. Die Grundlagenforschung lässt sich aber möglicherweise über die
Zulässigkeit eines „Spill-over-Effekts“ auf die Binnenmarktkompetenz
stützen.
In der Literatur findet sich der Hinweis auf einen positiv bewerteten,
weil die Integrationsdynamik fördernden, deshalb zulässigen, Spill-
over-Effekt im Zusammenhang mit der Richtliniensetzung zur
Rechtsangleichung.59 Was ist präzise damit gemeint? Frenz bezieht
sich auf den Querschnittscharakter der Binnenmarktkompetenz, aus
dem folge – und dafür verweist er auf den Europäischen Gerichtshof –,
dass nicht jeder einzelne von der Harmonisierungsmaßnahme
erfasste Sachverhalt einen Bezug zum Binnenmarkt aufweisen müsse.60
Wenn man die Referenzentscheidung61 genau liest, erkennt man, dass
eine Brücke zur kompetentiellen Rechtfertigung der Grundlagenfor­
schung allerdings fragil ist: Dort erkennt das Gericht, dass „die
Heranziehung von Art. 100a EGV [i.e. heute Art. 114 AEUV] als
Rechtsgrundlage nicht voraus[setzt], dass in jedem Einzelfall, der von
dem auf dieser Rechtsgrundlage ergangenen Rechtsakt erfasst wird,
tatsächlich ein Zusammenhang mit dem freien Verkehr zwischen
Mitgliedstaaten besteht“ (Rn. 41). „Für die Rechtfertigung der
Heranziehung von Art. 100a [=114 AEUV] als Rechtsgrundlage
[kommt] es entscheidend darauf an, dass der auf dieser Grundlage
erlassene Rechtsakt tatsächlich die Bedingungen für die Errichtung
und das Funkionieren des Binnenmarktes verbessern soll“ (Rn. 41).
Die europäische Rechts­ grundlage muss also tatsächlich das
Funktionieren des Binnenmarktes verbessern, d.h. der in der Richtlinie
geregelte Tatbestand muss die Funktionseignung in seiner abstrakt

58
So G. Bolliger, Europäisches Tierschutzrecht, 403 f. (2000).
59
S. Frenz (Fn. 31), Rn. 3375.
60
 Id. mit Verweis auf EuGH, Fälle C-465/00 u.a., Rechnungshof/ORF, 2003 Slg.
I-4989, Rn. 41; vgl. auch EuGH, Fall C-380/03, Tabakwerbung II, 2006 Slg. I-11573,
Rn. 80.
61
S. die Plenarentscheidung, EuGH, Fälle C-465/00 u.a., Rechnungshof/ORF,
2003 Slg. I-4989; zur Vorlagefrage des österreichischen Verfassungsgerichtshofs
Rn. 17–23.
1998 wolfgang löwer

generellen Formulierung haben. Wenn diese vorliegt, dürfen auch sol­

che Sachverhalte im nationalen Recht dem Regelungsregime unter­
worfen werden, die für sich betrachtet keinen Zusammenhang mit
dem freien Verkehr zwischen den Mitgliedstaaten haben. Der Spill-
over-Effekt besteht also darin, dass alle Sachverhalte ohne Rücksicht
auf einen Binnenmarktbezug erfasst werden dürfen, solange der abs­
trakte Tatbestand selbst den geforderten Binnenmarktbezug aufweist.
Auf die RL 2010 übersetzt: Wenn in der Hochschule translatorisch
mit Steuergeldern finanziert unter Einsatz von Tieren geforscht wird,
mag dies für sich betrachtet keinen Binnenmarktbezug aufweisen; es
darf aber auch der Sachverhalt translatorischer Forschung geregelt
werden und dann auch im Sinne eines Spill-over die translatorische
Forschung an Hochschulen erfasst werden. Bei der Frage, ob der euro­
päisch formulierte abstrakte Rechtsangleichungstatbestand (hier
Versuchszweck) einen hinreichenden Binnenmarktbezug hat, ist zu
fragen, ob seine Normierung das Funktionieren des Binnenmarktes
fördert. Dazu muss der Tatbestand selbst Binnenmarktrelevanz haben.
Von der Begrifflichkeit der Grundlagenforschung her führt allerdings
keine Brücke zur Funktionsbesserung des Binnenmarktes, weil sie
typischerweise von Produkten etc. zu weit entfernt ist.
Wer in die Grundlagenforschung als Marktteilnehmer investie­
ren sollte, kann dies mit der Erwartung für gemeinen Nutzen tun,
nicht aber als Hoffnungswert für einen unmittelbar nutzbaren
Wissensvorsprung am Markt. Mit dem Spill-over-Effekt ließe sich die
Einbeziehung der Grundlagenforschung nicht rechtfertigen: Sie ist
nicht erfasst qua Normerstreckung auf nicht binnenmarktrelevante
nationale Sachverhalte sondern kraft der speziellen Tatbestandsfor­
mulierung im Unionsrecht. Die Tatbestandsformulierung setzt aber
voraus, dass sie in die Verbandskompetenz der Union fällt. Würde
man dies nicht fordern, hieße das, das Prinzip der begrenzten
Einzelermächtigung zu vernachlässigen.62 Spill-over-Erwägungen hel­
fen hier nicht weiter.
bb. Das bedeutet aber noch nicht, dass die Grundlagenforschung nicht
auf die Binnenmarktkompetenz gestützt werden kann. Aus dem
Bundesstaatsrecht sind Begriffe einer Regelungskompetenz kraft Natur
der Sache oder kraft Sachzusammenhangs, kraft Annexes oder kraft

62
Vgl. auch Frenz (Fn. 31), Rn. 3424 unter Hinweis auf das Lissabon-Urteil des
Bundesverfassungsgerichts, BVerfGE 123, 233, 238.
 die neue tierversuchsrichtlinie 2010/63/eu1999

„enger Verzahnung“ überaus geläufig.63 Wegen „enger Verzahnung“

einer Teilregelung mit dem Schwerpunkt der Gesamtregelung kann
diese in den Kompetenzbereich des Bundes fallen.64
Das Bundesverfassungsgericht begründet die „enge Verzahnung“
folgendermaßen:
„Bei der Zuordnung einzelner Teilregelungen eines umfassenden Rege­
lungskomplexes zu einem Kompetenzbereich dürfen die Teilregelungen
nicht aus ihrem Regelungszusammenhang gelöst und für sich betrachtet
werden. Kommt ihre Zugehörigkeit zu verschiedenen Kompetenzbe­
reichen in Betracht, so ist aus dem Regelungszusammenhang zu erschlie­
ßen, wo sie ihre Schwerpunkte haben. Dabei fällt insbesondere ins
Gewicht, wie eng die fragliche Teilregelung mit dem Gegenstand der
Gesamtregelung verbunden ist. Eine enge Verzahnung und dement­
sprechend geringer eigenständiger Regelungsgehalt der Teilregelung
spricht regelmäßig für ihre Zugehörigkeit zum Kompetenzbereich der
Gesamtregelung.“65
In diesem Sinne ist vermutlich auch der Europäische Gerichtshof zu
verstehen, wenn er es rechtfertigt, auch solche Tatbestände in die
Rechtsangleichung einzubeziehen, die nur mittelbar negative
Auswirkungen auf das Funktionieren des Binnenmarktes auslösen
können. Nicht unmittelbar binnenmarktrelevante Regelungen können
nach der Rechtsprechung des Europäischen Gerichtshofes als akzesso­
rische Maßnahmen auf die Binnenmarktkompetenz gestützt werden.
Das gilt z.B., wenn die Einbeziehung des Tatbestandes die Umgehung
bestimmter Verbote verhindern soll.66
Die Akzessorität kraft „enger Verzahnung“ wird man im Verhältnis
von angewandter Forschung und Grundlagenforschung annehmen
können. Das Moment der Verzahnung ist darin begründet, dass man
den Forschungsprozess heuristisch selbstverständlich in das angespro­
chene Zwei-Phasen-Modell zerlegen kann. In diesem Sinne rezipiert
auch die Gesetzessprache die Begriffe als Rechtsbegrif