The Volokh Conspiracy

The Fourth Circuit’s noteworthy decision in U.S. v. Dire is probably the first court of appeals decision in a piracy prosecution in nearly 200 years. The Fourth Circuit decision is important not only for some novel pending piracy cases, but for the Alien Tort Statute and broader questions about the interplay of U.S. and international law.

Two groups of defendants were tried by different federal district judges for attempted piracy – they had been caught before boarding the targeted vessel (which was unfortunately for the defendants, a U.S. warship). They were charged under 18 U.S.C § 1651 with “piracy as defined by the law of nations.” Both cases turned on whether that “definition” extends to attempts. One district court said yes, in the Dire case. Another district judge, in Said, said no. He looked the important 1820 piracy case of U.S. v. Smith, where the Supreme Court discussed the definition of piracy, and said everyone agreed it was “robbery on the high seas.” Since there was no robbery here – no piracy.

The Fourth Circuit yesterday reversed the dismissal. It held that the statute refers to “the law of nations” and that is understood to change over time, and the definition of piracy with it. We are not stuck with the 1820 definition of Smith; we look to the definition today. I don’t think the Court had to get into to this evolving-international law inquiry; Said was simply wrong to read Smith’s definition as excluding attempts. Some other noteworthy features:

The Define and Punish Clause. The Fourth Circuit endorsed my position, which had been very generously expounded by the district court, that the Constitution’s Define and Punish Clause only allows for universal jurisdiction over crimes that clearly have that status in international law. Slip Op. at 15-16. The court also suggested that Congress could not define international “conduct beyond the scope of the [international legal] definition” of offenses, as I argued in this forthcoming paper.

The standard for determining law of nations violations. Because Congress did not define attempts as part of the piracy prohibition, the Court looked to international law. The Law of the Sea Treaty – just as the Senate began to debate it again this week – was an important starting point, because it provides an easy-to-refer-to definition of piracy. By its terms, the Law of the Sea definition seems to include attempts. But the Fourth Circuit did not stop there, but continued to examine how courts in prior cases in other countries had ruled, including a famous Privy Council decision from the 1930s, and rulings of the Kenyan courts that have taken a leading role in prosecuting Somali pirates today, and an U.S. case.

Thus there has been actual state judicial practice establishing “attempts” as part of piracy; the Court didn’t just read this off a treaty that had never been applied in any case. Indeed, the decision could have gone the other way if the court was asked to be the first to “apply” such a theoretical norm: the opinion noted the “necessity of looking to… case law from other countries” to find that a putative norm exists. Slip op. at 19.

This has immediate relevance for the ATS, and Kiobel. (Indeed, the court borrowed freely from ATS decisions.) The existence of relevant judicial precedents is of course what is missing in several kinds of ATS claims, and especially for corporate liability.

Perhaps later I’ll say some more about how I think the decision may have been a bit too broad, or cavalier about Congress’s failure to “define.”

In discussions of Kiobel v. Royal Dutch Shell and the Alien Tort Statute, many commentators suggested if the Supreme Court limits corporate liability or extraterritoriality under the ATS, it would eviscerate the statute, and be bad for human rights. More generally, limiting the ATS is thought to serve broadly conservative interests.

These points are only weakly true for the ATS, as I’ll explain below. But more broadly, a limited understanding of the role of universal jurisdiction (UJ) and the Constitution’s Offenses power would have a variety of cross-cutting political valences when applied to other statutes. I have been describing the sources and scope of the constitutional limits on UJ in prior posts. So if reigning in foreign-cubed suits under the ATS can be “scored” as a liberal loss, the logic for doing so would give conservatives a loss under the material support for terrorism law, and both a conservative and liberals loss under the Maritime Drug Law Enforcement Act (but a libertarian win!).

To put it differently, UJ – the exercise of judicial power in foreign-cubed suits – has no inherent political valence; this depends on the norms being universalized. The ATS is one of a few instances of such jurisdiction, and a restriction on it could have several ripples and ramifications in other important contexts.

Moreover, it should be remembered that the ATS itself has other uses besides foreign-cubed suits against companies. Restricting such actions does not make the ATS meaningless, it only stops one particular genre of claims. ATS suits can and have been brought against individual American nationals, even as the new briefs in Kiobel are being written. Also, it should be noted that the ATS suits are not limited to liberal causes, and limiting it could obstruct some more conservative initiatives. Consider two pending ATS suits with rather opposite political valences, none of which involve corporate liability or foreign-cubed situations:

• Japanese whalers are suing Sea Shepherd Conservation Society in federal court for acts of piracy, violations of the SUA Treaty other navigational safety charters. The case raises interesting issues about the availability of injunctions under the ATS, as well as the meaning of “private ends” in the definition of piracy. (H/T: Other Eugene.)

• In recent weeks the Center for Constitutional Rights, which pioneered ATS litigation in Filartiga and many subsequent cases, filed suit against a U.S. preacher for encouraging the Ugandan government to criminalize homosexuality.

An interesting question this case raises is whether the Noerr-Pennington doctrine applies to the ATS generally, and whether it applies extraterritorially. One would think that those who argue corporate liability in ATS cases should be governed by federal common law would find Noerr-Pennington, based as it is on First Amendment considerations, fully applicable in this context. Noerr-Pennington has been extended to a variety of torts and to RICO actions, why not ATS?

One answer could be that antitrust violations are simply not violations when done by governments: indeed, much of what progressive economic policies entail is cartelizing workers and industries. Human rights violations, however, specifically are human rights violations when done by governments. But this just brings us back to the crossroads: do U.S. common law or international norms govern secondary legal issues in ATS cases?

Passover approaches, and with it the end of my rotation here. It has been a pleasure, and thanks to Eugene for having me here.

One aspect of the ACA litigation that has not received due attention is the effect of the Court’s ruling on the scope Foreign Commerce Clause. An expansive, limitless definition of the scope of “Commerce” would presumably apply to Foreign Commerce as well. If there is no limiting principle for the former, it would be hard to have a limiting principle for the latter.

Under the logic of the government’s approach, Congress could regulate or mandate transactions purely between foreigners with no direct U.S. nexus. This is because these foreigners could have – should have! – engaged in transactions with the U.S instead. Purely foreign transactions affect the price of things in the U.S. If insurance would be cheaper if more people bought it, the same could be said about American cars. It makes no difference if the recalcitrant non-purchaser is foreign or domestic. Can the Japanese be required to buy U.S. cars? Certainly such a law would be closely related a major economic sector, as defenders of the ACA like to put it. (I am of course holding aside issues of enforceability to focus on the Commerce power.)

Or consider a rationale closer to the ACA case. If the mandate falls within Interstate Commerce, why not Foreign Commerce as well? Just as health people may get sick while uninsured, foreigners might come to the U.S. uninsured. At the time they come, no doubt Congress could require purchasing insurance as part of its Immigration powers. But by then it could be too late, they could be sick not insurable. So could Congress require foreigners to buy insurance or broccoli prior to coming to America on the theory that they might at some point come to America? Foreigners from countries where a sizable percentage visit the U.S.? Foreigners who have visited the U.S. in the past?

It is ironic that the liberal interpretation of the Commerce power would allow American exceptionalism and give Congress regulatory powers in excess of what would be allowed by international law. On the other hand, it is hard to doctrinally cabin disrespect for the domestic division of sovereignty from disrespect for the international division of sovereignty.

In Kiobel, the ATS case I have been blogging about, the Supreme Court has shown some skepticism about broad extraterritorial assertions of U.S. law (based proximately on statutory, not constitutional concerns, though in my forthcoming paper, I argue the Offenses Clause of the constitution and foreign commerce clause underpins the statutory issue. The justices might want to consider that a ruling for the government in the ACA case would open a whole world of extraterritorial legislation.

In Schecter Poultry, Justice Cardozo famously wrote:

Here is a view of causation that would obliterate the distinction between what is national and what is local in the activities of commerce. Motion at the outer rim is communicated perceptibly, though minutely, to recording instruments at the center.

The point here is the “periphery” is not just internal; the periphery is also the world. That which obliterates the distinction between the local and national also tends to obliterate the distinction between global and national.

One of the peculiarities of the Alien Tort Statute is its mix of cosmopolitan conceptions of justice with American exceptionalism. Under the ATS the U.S. has been the only nation in the world allowing for universal jurisdiction (“UJ”) in civil suits. So while enforcing international law has been the justification for these suits, it has been a mode of enforcement otherwise unseen around the world.

That changed a tiny bit today with a precedent-setting decision in the Netherlands, that awarded damages in a UJ civil suit brought by a Palestinian man against Libyan officials for torture that took place in Libya – the notorious and bizarre fraudulent persecution of foreign medical workers for infecting patients with AIDs. (And this is when Qaddafi could still be seen in polite company.)

So what does this ruling mean for the ATS, and particularly the extraterritoriality issue to be argued in Kiobel? At first, it would seem to bolster the plaintiff’s case, by making civil UJ seem (very marginally) less anomalous. But it also cuts the other way, perhaps more strongly. The argument that there is no other forum where these serious wrongs can be redressed has underpinned broad notions of the ATS, both with regards to UJ extraterritoriality and corporate liability. Now, the danger of “impunity” has abated. Now a federal judge must now ask in a UJ ATS case – why wasn’t it brought in Holland? What if Holland is actually physically closer to the conduct (as in Kiobel)? Isn’t Holland where all the international lawyers are? Does plaintiff’s presumptive choice of forum apply to UJ cases?

Finally, the Libyan defendants were all sued as individuals (because of sovereign immunity), suggesting an absence of entity liability (like corporate liability) does not make a nullity of international justice and human rights litigation.

UPDATE: This just gets better. I was just reminded (courtesty of twitter, see @EVKontorovich) that the Dutch strongly opposed the exercise of UJ in ATS cases, filing an amicus brief in Kiobel that said:

[T]he lower courts appear to have gone further than the established jurisprudence allows. .. the lower courts have both asserted jurisdiction with regard to a wider category of such violations, and in relation to facts in which a “sufficiently close connection” to the U.S. is entirely absent.

I would think the Dutch ruling would greatly weaken the usefulness of the Dutch/British amicus briefs to the Kiobel defendants. It is particularly embarrassing that the defendant is Royal Dutch Shell – apparently Holland knows “can dish it out, but …can’t take it no more,” to quote Edward G. Robinson’s Rico character. This all underscores a broader point about UJ – there are several cases of nations exercising UJ, but very few of them submitting to it uncomplainingly.

Lets take a break from the ACA to think about the federal government’s power to to deal with matters that have no connection to the U.S., an issue the Court will take up when it hears the expanded arguments in Kiobel, the ATS case.

Yesterday I talked about how the ATS extraterritoriality at issue in Kiobel is really something rarer and more extreme: universality. Thus the analysis starts with the classic universal crime and obscure constitutional provision – Piracy, which has gotten significant play in the courts of appeals’ extraterritoriality cases like Doe v. Exxon and Rio Tinto (as well as in the Kiobel oral arguments on corporate liability). Because Sosa held that piracy would be actionable under the ATS, it is clear that the battle over extraterritoriality in Kiobel will be a naval engagement. It is true that piracy occurs extraterritorially, and under the current piracy statute, can be prosecuted even with no connection to the U.S. But proponents of foreign-cubed draw precisely the wrong inferences from piracy’s exceptional status.

Piracy is not just any international crime: it has its own separate constitutional provision: Congress can punish “piracies and felonies on the high seas, and Offenses against the law of nations.” Thus whatever is true of “piracy” is not necessarily true of other “Offenses” that can be reached under the ATS: these are separate, though related, Art. I powers. The Constitution’s singling out of piracy is striking and demands explanation, because it creates a double-redundancy. Does anything make piracy different from other high seas felonies and international law offenses? Yes: it was the only universally cognizable offense at the time.

Starting with this textual observation, I have explained that Congress can at most only use universal jurisdiction over offenses that clearly have that status in international law (see The “Define and Punish” Clause and the Limits of Universal Jurisdiction, 103 NORTHWESTERN UNIVERSITY LAW REVIEW 149 (2009)). There is evidence for this not just in the structure of the clause, but in grand jury instructions of Wilson and Story, the pronouncements of Marshall, and important judicial and Congressional precedents from the early Republic. For example, in U.S. v. Furlong, the Supreme Court in 1820 found that a statute that purported to punish “murder” by “any person” on the high seas does not apply universally because it is not a UJ crime.

Because murder was not universally cognizable, such “an offense committed by a foreign upon a foreign ship” is a matter in which “Congress ha[s] nor right to interfere.” The Court suggested this limitation was Constitutional, noting such universal regulation would exceed “the punishing powers of the body the enacted it,” i.e. go beyond the Define and Punish clause. Or as Marshall put it in 1800: “[T]he people of the United States have no jurisdiction over offenses committed on board a foreign ship against a foreign nation. Of consequence, in framing a Government for themselves, they cannot have passed this jurisdiction to that Government.”

Congress’s failure to Define
Courts in ATS cases have usually skipped the UJ question entirely. As I show in my forthcoming paper, Discretion, Delegation and Defining in the Constitution’s Offenses Clause, 106 NORTHWESTERN UNIVERSITY LAW REVIEW __ (2012), when Congress exercises its power to “Define” an offence, it gets some degree of deference about the content of the offense, as well as its UJ status. Congress did not “Define” in the ATS, but rather broadly delegated to the courts. Courts do not enjoy any special discretion to “Define.” In the absence of congressional definition, courts must stick closely to well-established international precedent on universal cognizability, an effort they have not even attempted. This is not just because Sosa’s requirements; rather, the Offenses Clause requires it. Indeed, the plurality in Hamdan case rejected conspiracy to commit war crimes because there were no precisely on-point international precedents, a demanding standard equally applicable to the universal cognizability of ATS offenses. Ironically, conservatives favored a loose approach to finding international norms in Hamdan and liberals a highly restrained one; the roles here are gain reversed.

Furthermore, a statute’s mere reference to international law in the ATS does not automatically trigger UJ. Indeed, in U.S. v. Palmer, Chief Justice Marshall read a statute criminalizing “piracy” by “any person” as requiring a U.S. nexus, even though it was clear that Congress could constitutionally apply it universally. The fact that Congress quickly acted to override this construction does not disprove the existence of the presumption as applied to international law offenses: one point of presumptions is to put the burden of clarity on Congress, and this is even more so in foreign relations issues.

[Cross-posted on OpinioJuris]

[Cross-posted on OpinioJuris]

The new issue in Kiobel is not mere extraterritoriality, but rather universality. There are constitutional limits on universal jurisdiction (UJ); at most it can only be used for those “Piracies” and “Offenses” that have UJ status in international law. But Congress has not “defined” any offenses in the ATS. It delegated the task to the courts, but the courts must use this mandate narrowly and cautiously, as the “Define” power was given to Congress precisely because international law was too “deficient and vague” to be a common law rule.

Lower courts have discussed the application of the Alien Tort Statute to so-called “foreign-cubed” cases – where the parties are foreigners and the conduct takes place abroad – as a matter of extraterritoriality, a term that suggests the presumption of statutory construction against extraterritorial application. While there is a presumption against extraterritoriality, the application of U.S. law to conduct abroad is not uncommon. Yet even the most controversial or aggressive use of extraterritoriality typically involves the regulation of American conduct abroad, or at least conduct that has substantial effects in American or on particularly American interests. But this is not the extraterritoriality of Kiobel, which like many ATS cases have no connection to the U.S. whatsoever. Such universally extraterritorial scope is certainly only found in the face of the clearest statement of congressional intent, such as in the unusual Maritime Drug Law Enforcement Act.

Universal jurisdiction, of the kind asserted in Kiobel, is exceedingly rare and poses much greater problems than mere extraterritoriality. It raises the question of where the federal government, supposedly one of limited powers internally, gets the authority to regulate conduct with no domestic nexus, and have federal courts sit as little world courts.

As shall be seen, Supreme Court precedents clearly apply presumptions of extraterritoriality to statutes dealing with international law violations, even universal ones. Some have argued that the Supreme Court implicitly OK’d ATS extraterritoriality in Sosa v. Alvarez-Machain, its previous major encounter with the statute. Sosa itself involved conduct in Mexico –but it was the abduction from that country by the D.E.A. and its local contractors of a man involved in torturing a federal agent to death, so that he could stand trial in the U.S. Foreign-cubed that is not: few cases could have a tighter nexus with America.

In the oral arguments on corporate liability, Justice Ginsburg suggested that Sosa OK’d extraterritoriality by citing favorably Filartiga, the break-out 1980 Second Circuit case that turned to the ATS into a tool for human rights litigation. Sosa quoted Filartiga’s famous analogy between modern human rights UJ and its precursors: “the torturer has become-like the pirate and slave trader before him – hostis humani generis, an enemy of all mankind [a phrase that was law of nations shorthand for piracy’s universal cognizability].” Never mind that piracy serves as poor model for modern UJ; Sosa’s quote from Filartiga is hardly decisive. The issue was not before the Court, and secondly, it could be that the ATS allows for UJ for a few norms like torture, but perhaps not for others like extrajudicial killing.

Today the Supreme Court takes on the scope of the Commerce Clause in the historic healthcare cases. The case raises the question of whether there are any substantive limits to the federal government’s domestic regulatory power. But another case soon to be (re)argued before the Court, Kiobel v. Royal Dutch Shell, manages to raise an even broader question: Are there any substantive limits to the federal government’s power to regulate matters occurring outside and having nothing do with the United States? Surprisingly, the latter question has not been generally regarded as a constitutional one.

The Supreme Court has expanded the issues under consideration in Kiobel, originally about corporate liability under the Alien Tort Statute, to include the extraterritorial application of the law. Like corporate liability, extraterritoriality had for decades just been assumed by the lower courts hearing ATS cases: now it will be fully explored.

This series of posts, also cross-posted on OpinioJuris, will focus on the constitutional/federal courts issues involved, and of course explore the early piracy precedents of the Supreme Court to get traction on the issues. In short: before thinking about the ATS, one must consider the constitutional basis for universal jurisdiction – which is quite narrow. Furthermore, there a some good reasons derived both from the constitution and precedent for interpreting the ATS narrowly, as not exercising whatever UJ power the federal government does have.

Before turning to the merits, it is amusing to note the strange bedfellows ATS doctrine makes. The litigation and accompanying academic debate over the meaning and scope of the Alien Tort Statute has been a marvel of surprising ideological transpositions, and more reversals of traditional roles than All’s Well That Ends Well. On the issue of corporate liability, liberals (crudely speaking) urge the Court look to parochial U.S. law, and conservatives (still crudely speaking) favor the adoption of a rule from international law and practice. Then the Court asks for new arguments on extraterritoriality. Now the conservatives point to U.S. law – the judge-made presumption against extraterritoriality – and liberals point to the international status of the offenses. It is like a game of Twister.

Neither position is fully correct. There may be a place for extraterritoriality in ATS cases, but in a much narrower class of cases then where it is currently applied. The next few posts draw on much of my prior work, and I hope the reader forgives me not recapitulating the entire argument of those articles in these posts.

As I have occasionally noted here at VC, this term the Supreme Court will hear an Alien Tort Statute case, the Kiobel case, in which a primary question is whether the ATS embraces a theory of corporate liability.  The Supreme Court presumably took the case because of a circuit split that has arisen over the corporate liability question, and perhaps because of a sense that the exceedingly vague guidance of its last visit to the ATS, the Sosa decision, left many crucial items open.

The case has attracted intense interest among outsiders, professors particularly – 19 amicus briefs filed on behalf of plaintiffs, and 16 on behalf of defendant corporations. (I signed one, despite my general reservations about scholars’ amicus briefs (drawing upon Richard Fallon’s article, which I have blogged about here at VC, including a response by Amanda Frost), mostly because I know this subject matter very well and believed that if called upon, I could have drafted the brief I signed myself.)

Former DOS Legal Advisor John Bellinger writes at Lawfare that the governments of Germany, the UK, and the Netherlands have filed amicus briefs in support of corporate defendant Shell Oil; the Obama administration filed a brief in support of plaintiffs.  (His post at Lawfare provides links to most of the briefs or the ABA site with amicus brief links.)

Here is what I wish could be got in front of the justices. (I am not a litigator, so I don’t pretend to know how one would frame this substantive point in a way so as to put it in a brief.)  The basic question is whether the ATS is a statute about international law or whether it is instead a statute that enforces something we might call the “law of the hegemon.”  The District Courts have been told, and seem largely to believe, that what they do by way of a universal jurisdiction statute – allowing foreigners to sue foreigners in tort for conduct taking place entirely outside of the United States or having any connection to it save through the ATS itself – as civil law remedies against juridical persons is a faithful expression of international law.  I – along with the foreign governments filing amicus briefs – would beg to differ.  There is no regime of international civil liability, nor is there liability for juridical persons; many fine scholars disagree, of course, and you can find their views in the amicus briefs supporting the plaintiffs.

A better explanation of the ATS as it is currently instantiated is that it is the law of the hegemon, masquerading as international law.  It is US law of tort and civil liability, and the US law of corporate liability, extended by US statute to encompass all actors worldwide and universally.  The standards laid down in Sosa – even leaving aside the questions of corporate liability or universal civil jurisdiction – are thoroughly US-centric.  They require that “international law” be interpreted through the lens of a 200+ year old American statute consisting of one sentence; look to historical interpretations of what Congress might have intended about international law of the day in order to tell the District Courts how to interpret today’s international law; impose American law notions of prudential restraint by courts that are driven in considerable part by domestic law separation of powers concerns, not international law as such even though those concerns establish what “international law” is available for deployment; use American concepts of civil and corporate liability to fill in “gaps” in international law; and perhaps most strikingly, look to American courts as the precedential authority on how to interpret international law.

That, it seems to me, is what a hegemon does when simply carrying its law to the rest of the world.  It is also what a legal system does when what matters to it is its “internal” legitimacy – its fidelity to its own hierarchy of authority and interpretation.  I want American courts to remain internally faithful to their distinct hierarchy of Constitutional legitimacy; yet this is not how the “doctrine of sources,” even in a loose sense, operates in international law.  And while I’m not un-attracted by US hegemony, to be sure, and while I’m also not entirely convinced of the universality of international law, either – still, even a semi-skeptic like me does think it a mistake to confuse “hegemonic law” with “international law.”

A mistake, that is, if for no other reason than that the hegemon seems somewhat in decline.  (“Ne serait-ce point une Amerique lasse de son metier?” as Stendhal (might have) put it.)  Does one really think that the federal judiciary, without further instruction from the Congress, ought to set the terms for how China’s corporations behave in Africa, lacking further connection to the United States on any traditional basis of jurisdiction? I’m all for American hegemony, but in today’s world, even I think it a bridge too far – and quite ungrounded in international law as such.

How one gets that concern in front of the Supreme Court, I have not the faintest idea.  But I do think it is the overarching intellectual and political question at stake.

That would be Richard Falk, whose talk on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is hosted by “Students for Palestinian Equal Rights, Stanford International Human Rights & Conflict Resolution Clinic, the Advanced Degree Students Association, & the Stanford Association for Law in the Middle East.”

One can’t hold Stanford responsible for the activities of its student groups, but  the International  Human Rights & Conflict Resolution Clinic is an academic unit of the law school, run by faculty members.

How embarrassing for Stanford, and yet further evidence that in some circles any degree of idiocy can be forgiven so long as one is “Progressive on Palestine.”

H/T Rabbi Simon via email.

An interesting opinion in In re Request from the United Kingdom Pursuant to the Treaty Between the Government of the United States of America and the Government of the United Kingdom on Mutual Assistance in Criminal Matters in the Matter of Dolours Price (D. Mass. Dec. 16), involving a subpoena by the UK government pursuant to a UK-US treaty seeking evidence from a Boston College oral history project. Here are some excerpts, though they only give a flavor of what’s going on in this rather long and complex opinion:

The Trustees of Boston College move to quash or modify subpoenae requesting confidential interviews and records from the oral history project known as the “Belfast Project.” The subpoenae were issued by a commissioner pursuant to 18 U.S.C. § 3512, the United Kingdom Mutual Legal Assistance Treaty (“UK–MLAT”), and a sealed Order of this Court. The government asserts that the terms of the UK–MLAT requires the Court to grant its order and deny any motion to quash absent a constitutional violation or a federally recognized testimonial privilege. Boston College asks the Court to review the subpoenae under the standard set forth in Federal Rule of Criminal Procedure 17(c)(2), where “the court may quash or modify the subpoena if compliance would be unreasonable or oppressive.” This Court is asked to determine what sort of discretion an Article III court has to review or quash a subpoena brought under the authority of the UK–MLAT….

In 2001, Boston College sponsored the Belfast Project, an oral history project with the goal of documenting in taped interviews the recollections of members of the Provisional Irish Republican Army, the Provisional Sinn Fein, the Ulster Volunteer Force, and other paramilitary and political organizations involved in the “Troubles” in Northern Ireland from 1969 forward. The research also sought to provide insight into the minds of people who become personally engaged in violent conflict. As such, its progenitors saw it as a vital project to understanding the conflict in Northern Ireland and other conflicts around the world. The Belfast Project was housed at the Burns Library of Rare Books and Special Collections at Boston College. Boston College sponsored the project due to its ongoing academic interest in Irish Studies and its prior role in the peace process in Northern Ireland….

Boston College argues that the First Circuit recognizes protections for confidential academic research material and that these protections apply to the targets of the commissioner’s subpoenae….

[The] legal commitments that the United States made in approving the Treaty coincide with the general legal rule preventing journalistic or academic confidentiality from impeding criminal investigations. See Branzburg v. Hayes, 408 U.S. at 692 (rejecting “the notion that the First Amendment protects a newsman’s agreement to conceal the criminal conduct of his source, or evidence thereof, on the theory that it is better to write about crime than to do something about it”); United States v. Smith, 135 F.3d 963, 971 (5th Cir.1998) (“Branzburg will protect the press if the government attempts to harass it. Short of such harassment, the media must bear the same burden of producing evidence of criminal wrongdoing as any other citizen.”). “ ‘[T]he public … has a right to every man’s evidence,’ except for those persons protected by a constitutional, common-law, or statutory privilege.” Here, there is no recognized privilege.

As the subpoenae state, the information is sought in reference to alleged violations of the laws of the United Kingdom, namely murder, conspiracy to murder, incitement to murder, aggravated burglary, false imprisonment, kidnapping, and causing grievous bodily harm with intent to do grievous bodily harm…. These are serious allegations and they weigh strongly in favor of disclosing the confidential information….

In this case, this Court must weigh significant interests on each side. The United States government’s obligations under the UK–MLAT as well as the public’s interest in legitimate criminal proceedings are unquestioned. The Court also credits Boston College and the Burns Library’s attempts to ensure the long term confidentiality of the Belfast Project, as well as the potential chilling effects of a summary denial of the motion to quash on academic research. With such significant interests at stake, the Court will undertake an in camera review of the interviews and materials responsive to the commissioner’s subpoenae.

This Court DENIES the motions of the Trustees of Boston College to quash the commissioner’s subpoenae, and GRANTS Boston College’s request for in camera review of materials responsive to the subpoenae to the Court. This Court ORDERS Boston College to produce copies of all materials responsive to the commissioner’s subpoenae to this Court for in camera review by noon on December 21, 2011, thus allowing time for Boston College to request a stay from the Court of Appeals. Absent a stay, this Court promptly will review the materials in camera and enter such further orders as justice may require.

This strikes me as correct as a matter of First Amendment law, and indeed an application of the standard principles that would generally apply to domestic criminal investigations; I don’t see the court restricting First Amendment rights in the name of international agreements here. Still, it struck me as an interesting and noteworthy example of how First Amendment questions sometimes arise in treaty cases.

I’ve just finished a longish piece on cyberwar and the role of lawyers, published in Foreign Policy magazine.  Here’s how it begins:

Lawyers don’t win wars. But can they lose one?

We’re likely to find out, and soon. Lawyers across the U.S. government have raised so many show-stopping legal questions about cyberwar that they’ve left the military unable to fight or even plan for a war in cyberspace.

…

And here’s the part that inspired the title of this post:

By the 1930s, everyone saw that aerial bombing would have the capacity to reduce cities to rubble in the next war. Just a few years earlier, the hellish slaughter in the trenches of World War I had destroyed the Victorian world; now air power promised to bring the same carnage to soldiers’ homes, wives, and children.

In Britain, some leaders expressed hardheaded realism about this grim possibility. Former Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin, summing up his country’s strategic position in 1932, showed a candor no recent American leader has dared to match. “There is no power on Earth that can protect [British citizens] from being bombed,” he said. “The bomber will always get through…. The only defense is in offense, which means that you have got to kill more women and children more quickly than the enemy if you want to save yourselves.”

The Americans, however, still hoped to head off the nightmare. Their tool of choice was international law. (Some things never change.) When war broke out in Europe on Sept. 1, 1939, President Franklin D. Roosevelt sent a cable to all the combatants seeking express limits on the use of air power. Citing the potential horrors of aerial bombardment, he called on all combatants to publicly affirm that their armed forces “shall in no event, and under no circumstances, undertake the bombardment from the air of civilian populations or of unfortified cities.”

Roosevelt had a pretty good legal case. The 1899 Hague conventions on the laws of war, adopted just two years after the Wright brothers’ first flight, declared that in bombardments, “all necessary steps should be taken to spare as far as possible edifices devoted to religion, art, science, and charity, hospitals, and places where the sick and wounded are collected, provided they are not used at the same time for military purposes.” The League of Nations had also declared that in air war, “the intentional bombing of civilian populations is illegal.”

But FDR didn’t rely just on law. He asked for a public pledge that would bind all sides in the new war — and, remarkably, he got it. The horror at aerial bombardment of civilians ran so deep in that era that Britain, France, Germany, and Poland all agreed to FDR’s bargain, before nightfall on Sept. 1, 1939.

Nearly a year later, with the Battle of Britain raging in the air, the Luftwaffe was still threatening to discipline any pilot who bombed civilian targets. The deal had held. FDR’s accomplishment began to look like a great victory for the international law of war — exactly what the lawyers and diplomats now dealing with cyberwar hope to achieve.

But that’s not how this story ends.

…

Iran is to cyberwar what 1930s Spain was to airwar – contested ground where everyone tries out new technology and tactics.  After being on the receiving end of Stuxnet, which sabotaged the Natanz enrichment plant and showed that cyberweapons could replace cruise missiles, it looks as though the Iranian government has gone on the offensive.

The Dutch government’s electronic certification authority, DigiNotar, was compromised by a hacker in July of this year.  DigiNotar handled the hack badly, trying to fix the problem without disclosing it. As a result, DigiNotar’s credentials are being revoked by all of the major browsers.  This means that most web users will not be able to verify the bona fides of any site that DigiNotar has vouched for.  That includes a lot of Dutch government sites, and there are some reports that the Dutch government is leaning on Microsoft to keep the credentials operative for another week.  It also means that DigiNotar will be either out of business or buried in lawsuits that could also reach its parent, VASCO Data Security International.

The hacker who pulled off the compromise has posted messages claiming that the hack was revenge for Dutch peacekeepers’ surrender of thousands of Muslim men to Serb militias during the Balkan wars; the men were executed. The hacker says nothing about Iranian government sponsorship.

So why do I think the Iranian government was involved?

To understand that requires a bit of background about the role of certificate authorities on the Internet.  One of Netscape’s cleverest technological innovations was its solution to the problem of Internet eavesdropping.  It used public key encryption to encrypt the channel between a website and each user.  The user could look up a site’s public key and use that key to encrypt all of the user’s communications with the site.  (I’m oversimplifying here, but that’s the idea.)

The only problem was that the system was open to a “man in the middle” attack, where Mallory turns what’s meant to be a secure link between Alice and Bob into two secure links with himself as a secret hub and Alice and Bob as unsuspecting spokes.

Put another way, if an Iranian user asks Google for its public key, and he uses it to encrypt his communications, how does he know that he’s really using Google’s key?  If the Iranian government wants to read his Gmail, it could intercept his request and send him its own key.  He’d set up a secure channel with the government, which would then simply pass his login credentials on to Google.  For the rest of the session the government would sit in the middle, reading and passing on all the packets from both sides of the transaction.  Not good.

To prevent that, Netscape decided to bake a set of public keys into its browser.  The companies with the baked-in keys were certification authorities.  They could issue certificates vouching for the credentials of every site that wanted to offer secure, encrypted communications.

It was a great system, lightweight and very secure.  But only if the certification authorities kept their credential-signing process completely secure.  If they didn’t, then users would not know who was at the other end of the line, the website they wanted or a man in the middle.

Occasionally, of course, some fraudster would use fake documents to persuade a certification authority to sign credentials for a site the fraudster didn’t own.  That sort of thing could be fixed pretty easily.  Browser providers had already recognized that there had to be a way to revoke website certificates obtained by fraud, so browsers now do an online check each time they use a certificate; in essence, they ask an online server whether the certificate they are about to use has been revoked. So a single fraudulently obtained credential can be rendered harmless as soon as the fraud is discovered.

What happened to DigiNotar was not so easily fixed.  It appears that the hacker gained control of the credential-signing process for some weeks during July of this year, and he signed credentials for hundreds of online sites, including Google, Microsoft, and the CIA.

Now, that’s deeply embarrassing, and it probably would have been enough on its own to spell the end of DigiNotar.  But what came next was even worse.

Starting in August, according to investigators, online revocation checks for DigiNotar certificates jumped. Suddenly lots of people wanted to know whether the DigiNotar certificate for Google had been revoked.  This meant that hundreds of thousands of users were sure that DigiNotar was the authority that had signed Google’s credentials.  (In fact, Google signs its own credentials.) And 99% of the users asking about DigiNotar’s certificate for Google came from Iran. (Even the 1% of requests that didn’t come from Iran seem to have come from proxies and TOR routers in other countries, meaning they too could have been Iranian users.)

Clearly a lot of Iranian users had been fooled into thinking that DigiNotar had issued Google’s credentials.  I can only think of one way that could happen – if the Iranian government and ISPs were systematically intercepting packets bound for Google and saying, in effect, “I’m Google. Here are my credentials, signed by DigiNotar.  Let’s go secure and foil any eavesdroppers.” The user’s browser would say, “Wait a minute while I check to make sure DigiNotar hasn’t revoked your DigiNotar credentials, Google… Ok, you check out, let’s talk.”  As soon as the user started sending his login name and password to the fake Google, the middleman would use those credentials to log in to Google, which would set up a secure communications channel with the middleman.  The entire session would be encrypted unbreakably at every point in the chain save the one that mattered:  the government listening post in the middle. The Iranian government would be sitting pretty — Mallory between Alice and Bob.

Some observations, mostly additional reasons for thinking that this was an Iranian government operation, and what that means:

• The notes posted by the DigiNotar hacker make him sound like a flake and a braggart, hardly the kind of postings you’d expect from the Iranian secret police. Maybe this is misdirection, or maybe he pulled off the exploit and then handed over his loot to the Iranian government, voluntarily or involuntarily. But the implementation of the man-in-the-middle attack was so quick and so smooth that it looks to me as though the hacker was working with the government from the start.
• The same hacker who compromised Diginotar claims to have carried out attacks on Comodo and Globalsign, two other certification authorities. Both companies agree that they were hacked, although Globalsign is not admitting that its credentials were compromised. Again, compromising certification authorities is a great idea if you’re in the business of man-in-the-middle attacks; otherwise it’s got mostly nihilistic look-at-me-trashing-your-infrastructure appeal, which might make you wonder why this hacker has specialized in such attacks if he doesn’t work for the government.
• If this were an Iranian government op, the websites for which fake credentials were issued should be an Iranian government wish list — all the places where it most wants to be in the middle between the site and Iranian users. If so, the point of the fake CIA certificate wasn’t help hackers break into the CIA’s network. The point was to impersonate the CIA on line – to lure dissidents into setting up an apparently secure communications channels with a foreign intelligence service.  Iranian government paranoia about the CIA’s influence is so profound it’s almost flattering, and the Iranian government probably is kidding itself that the election protests were the result of foreign meddling, not the government’s unpopularity.
• In fact, the domains whose credentials were falsified do seem to be a kind of museum of Iranian government paranoia. Along with Google, Microsoft, and the CIA, the hacker made fake credentials for Mossad, MI6, Facebook, Skype, WordPress, Twitter, azadegi.com (an Iranian dissident site in Persian), Walla.co.il (a site in Hebrew), torproject.org, and Yahoo, along with others.  The full list is here.  In some ways, it’s an honor roll.
• It’s also a tell — more evidence that the attack on DigiNotar was government sponsored.  After all, if the DigiNotar hacker was really acting on his own, without government guidance, how did he manage to create so many certificates that would have so much value for an Iranian government man-in-the-middle attack?
• If this is cyberwar, it’s an Iranian government war against its own people.  And a very dangerous one. The flood of revocation checks coming from Iran continued all through August, meaning that anyone in that country who logged on to Gmail or Hotmail or the other honor-roll sites has probably lost control of everything – not just emails they sent in August but their passwords, their stored emails, their stored files, anything that could be accessed by passwords they used in August.
• As a result, DigiNotar’s security breakdown could foretell a new human rights disaster, with hundreds of thousands of victims. And, since we know the IP addresses that checked DigiNotar’s certificates, we could probably identify each victim individually.
• Which raises this question: We know from the online revocation checks that three hundred thousand Iranian users were fooled into using fake  DigiNotar certificates for Google. The same information should be available for Microsoft, Facebook, and every other fake certificate that was issued by the hacker.  Those numbers are the big story, and I don’t understand why reporters have dropped the ball on it, unless they don’t appreciate its significance.
• Mozilla has done a particularly good job of dealing with this issue, communicating more details earlier than most browser companies. Most recently, it called on the certification authorities it bakes into its browser to audit their security — and to put automatic blocks on some of the names, such as Google or Facebook, that are most likely to inspire man-in-the-middle attacks and least likely to change certificate authorities on short notice.  In contrast, Apple handled the whole affair pretty badly, taking days longer than the other big browsers to announce that it was revoking DigiNotar’s credentials.
• Iranian dissidents probably could protect themselves from these attacks by installing a browser extension called CertPatrol, which warns you if a site you’ve visited before has suddenly changed its certificate authority.  CertPatrol likely would have told all those Gmail users that, instead of going to a “Google” site that Google vouched for, they were instead going to a “Google” site that DigiNotar vouched for. They could also protect their Google account by turning on Google’s two-step verification process, which won’t let you log on from strange IP addresses until you’ve typed in a separate code sent directly to your phone.

As always when I venture too far into technical territory, I am quite aware that there are fine points I may be missing.  I welcome corrections and comments.

Kevin Jon Heller of University of Melbourne and Opinio Juris: “Insofar as Israel insists that it is not currently occupying Gaza, it cannot plausibly claim that it is involved in an IAC [International Armed Conflict] with Hamas” (and thus the blockade of Gaza is unlawful).

U.N.’s Palmer Committee Report on the Mavi Marmara incident (and note that the U.N. is not exactly the most sympathetic forum for Israel): “The Panel considers the [Hamas-Israel] conflict should be treated as an international one for the purposes of the law of blockade” (and thus the blockade is lawful).

Heller: “I have questioned the legality of the blockade before, leading two readers to claim that the Palmer Committee’s report contradicts my analysis of the situation. In fact, the opposite is true.”

Well, no. Because the Report concluded that the Hamas-Israel conflict was an IAC, it didn’t contradict Heller’s argument that if it’s not an IAC, the blockade is illegal under international law. But Heller also, as he acknowledges, “questioned the legality of the blockade” and said that it was not just wrong but that Israel’s claim to be in an IAC with Hamas is wholly implausible. While one Report cannot establish in everyone’s mind the lawfulness of the blockade, surely if an unsympathetic (or at the very least, non-sympathetic) forum like a U.N. commission adopts the Israeli position on IAC, that position cannot be deemed beyond the realm of even plausible argument, and Heller’s analysis is indeed “contradicted.”

UPDATE: Heller, responding to this post, writes: “I’m glad Bernstein believes that any legal conclusion reached by the UN regarding Israel’s actions is by definition plausible.” No, what I actually said is that a legal conclusion reached by the UN that is favorable to a position argued by Israel is a position “that position cannot be deemed beyond the realm of even plausible argument,” because the U.N. is an unsympathetic (or in the best-case scenario, non-sympathetic) forum.

Heller also writes that “Bernstein admits that my central claim about blockade was completely accurate.” No, I acknowledged that one particular claim wasn’t contradicted by the Report, which is obviously a far cry from stating that it “was completely accurate.”

But I can play this game, too. So I thank Kevin Jon Heller for publicly declaring that I’m the best-looking, smartest, and most reasonable law professor in North America, and that I’ve persuaded him that Human Rights Watch is not an objective arbiter of human rights in the Middle East, but an organization with an anti-Israel ideological agenda motivated by the far-leftist inclinations of its Middle East staff.

Here’s the text of the federal female genital mutilation ban, together with the factual findings:

(a) Except as provided in subsection (b), whoever knowingly circumcises, excises, or infibulates the whole or any part of the labia majora or labia minora or clitoris of another person who has not attained the age of 18 years shall be fined under this title or imprisoned not more than 5 years, or both.

(b) A surgical operation is not a violation of this section if the operation is —

(1) necessary to the health of the person on whom it is performed, and is performed by a person licensed in the place of its performance as a medical practitioner; or

(2) performed on a person in labor or who has just given birth and is performed for medical purposes connected with that labor or birth by a person licensed in the place it is performed as a medical practitioner, midwife, or person in training to become such a practitioner or midwife.

(c) In applying subsection (b)(1), no account shall be taken of the effect on the person on whom the operation is to be performed of any belief on the part of that person, or any other person, that the operation is required as a matter of custom or ritual.

[Findings:] The Congress finds that –

(1) the practice of female genital mutilation is carried out by members of certain cultural and religious groups within the United States;

(2) the practice of female genital mutilation often results in the occurrence of physical and psychological health effects that harm the women involved;

(3) such mutilation infringes upon the guarantees of rights secured by Federal and State law, both statutory and constitutional;

(4) the unique circumstances surrounding the practice of female genital mutilation place it beyond the ability of any single State or local jurisdiction to control;

(5) the practice of female genital mutilation can be prohibited without abridging the exercise of any rights guaranteed under the first amendment to the Constitution or under any other law; and

(6) Congress has the affirmative power under section 8 of article I, the necessary and proper clause, section 5 of the fourteenth Amendment, as well as under the treaty clause, to the Constitution to enact such legislation.

Do you think this is within Congress’s enumerated powers? If so, which ones? And what do you think about the reference to the Treaty Clause?

Featuring British NGO representative Leslie Vinjamuri (pro-intervention, sees no legal problem), American peace activist Robert Naiman (anti-intervention, considers the intervention unconstitutional), and me (pro-intervention, but opposed to Obama doing it in violation of the Constitution and the War Powers Act). On the RT (formerly, “Russia Today”) television program “Crosstalk.” 27 minutes.

I’m not going to discuss the moral, legal, or diplomatic implications of this move. But I do recall (though I don’t have links handy) that various “human rights” activists have been claiming since Israel’s withdrawal from Gaza that Israel was nevertheless “occupying” it via a blockade. Moreover, even if the blockade didn’t amount to an occupation it was immoral, illegal, and so forth.

When asked why they leveled so much criticism at Israel for the blockade, but almost none at Egypt, which was also blockading Gaza, the only coherent answer that was forthcoming was that Israel was somehow making Egypt enforce the blockade. The sensible response was that Israel can’t “make” Egypt do anything, and that Egypt enforced the blockade because Egypt thought it was in its own interest to do so.

Now that Egypt has ended the blockade, we can definitively say that the sensible response was correct. The current Egyptian government has apparently decided that its strategic interest in containing Hamas is secondary to the public opinion brownie points it will receive for easing the Palestinians’ plight–not to mention that the policy wasn’t very effective at containing Hamas.

It would be nice to think that our friendly neighborhood human rights activists will now admit they were wrong, that Egyptian policy re Gaza wasn’t somewhat being secretly controlled by Israel, and that more public pressure on Egypt, instead of myopically focusing on Israel, might have ended the blockade sooner. But I’m guessing that we will see exactly zero such admissions, because it would amount to admitting the unhealthy and unjustified obsession with Israel that is prevalent in “human rights” NGO circles.

UPDATE: Just for example, here are two pieces from Oxfam referring to an Israeli blockade of Gaza, with no mention of Egypt. Here’s a lengthy piece from Human Rights Watch calling on the U.S. to pressure Israel to end the blockade, which has only the following about Egypt: “Human Rights Watch also called on Clinton to press Egypt to open the Rafah border crossing with Gaza to allow humanitarian supplies to enter from there. According to recent news reports, hundreds of truckloads of aid are rotting on the Egyptian side of the border.” Note that HRW couldn’t even be troubled to advocate that Egypt open its border with Gaza, only that it allow in humanitarian aid–something Israel, the main object of HRW’s critique, was already doing.

FURTHER UPDATE: There’s a very good reason that Egypt has until now refused to open its border with Rafah. Egypt wants Gaza to be solely Israel’s responsibility, but Egypt occupied Gaza from 1948 to 1967, and there are many in Israel who would like to see Gaza become Egypt’s responsibility once again–which would of course make it less likely that the West Bank and Gaza will become a unitary Palestinian state in the future.

Any move to integrate Gaza’s economy with Egypt’s could be a slippery slope leading to Egypt taking more and more of a role there.

Someone concerned solely with humanitarian issues has no stake in this debate, and would be just as happy to see goods flowing through Egypt to Gaza as through Israel. But then you have to assume that all the talk of Gaza’s “humanitarian crisis” is really primarily about humanitarian concerns, and not about broader political objectives.

I know of only one case in which some Supreme Court Justices (in dissent) took the view that international law justified certain speech restrictions. And they didn’t just cite some foreign precedents, or statements by international bodies or international law experts, as tangential support in an opinion that focused predominantly on domestic precedents and purely domestic legal disputes. Rather, they specifically endorsed the view that complying with international law justified what might otherwise be an unconstitutional speech restriction.

What was the case, who were the Justices, and who was the judge who wrote the opinion in the court below, which took the same view?

Some common sense from Yale Professor Jed Rubenfeld. I’d pick out an excerpt, but it’s too good. Read the whole thing.

H/T: Instapundit.

Back in 2006, I wrote: “I’ve noticed in a variety of contexts that there are some rather well-educated, articulate individuals out there who have what seems to me to be a fanatical, quasi-religious belief in ‘international law’, and the idea that it should trump any other conflicting consideration.”

This analysis from Der Speigel, with the author wringing his hands over whether the killing of Osama bin Laden was “legal,” is an excellent example of this mindset.

It’s also worth noting that the cultists are inclined to take the most restrictive, often extremely tendentious view of international law, in which international law becomes a substitute for otherwise passe leftist pacifism or anti-Americanism. Note that the author makes the highly questionable claim that “for years, the very principle of international law has been to pursue justice rather than war.” If nothing else, it shows a mindset in which “war”, at least war engaged in by the U.S., is inevitably not the pursuit of justice.

And I had to laugh when I read this: “What is just about killing a feared terrorist in his home in the middle of Pakistan?”

Only everything.

UPDATE: Note also this lame attempt by Mary Ellen O’Connell to claim that the Osama hit was a product of “law enforcement techniques”, thus proving the superiority of the law enforcement model of counter-terrorism over the military model. The commenters are justifiably merciless.

There is not much I can say about the death of Bin Laden that will not be better said by others with greater eloquence or expertise, including the President in his speech last night, which I thought hit all the right notes. Obviously, it is a great day for the US and all who are threatened by radical Islamist terror. We should also commend the president, the special forces who carried out the mission, and the intelligence community. Hopefully, this success is a sign of improvement in US intelligence capabilities over the last decade.

From an international law perspective, it’s worth noting that the operation against Bin Laden is an example of targeted killing. Although we don’t yet know very many details, it’s pretty obvious that the US targeted Bin Laden deliberately, something the President more or less admitted in his speech, where he said that we have been tracking Bin Laden for many months (presumably for the purpose of targeting him as an individual). In the past, such targeted killings have drawn criticism from human rights organizations and others who claim that they violate international law. Co-Conspirator Kenneth Anderson described the debate in this excellent article. It’s unlikely that there will be much criticism of the operation against Bin Laden. However, the broader debate over the law and morality of targeted killings is likely to continue. I gave my own thoughts back in 2006, at the time of targeted killing of Abu Musab Al-Zarqawi. I think the central point holds true today:

In my view, targeting terrorist leaders is not only defensible, but actually more ethical than going after rank and file terrorists or trying to combat terrorism through purely defensive security measures. The rank and file have far less culpability for terrorist attacks than do their leaders, and killing them is less likely to impair terrorist operations. Purely defensive measures, meanwhile, often impose substantial costs on innocent people and may imperil civil liberties. Despite the possibility of collateral damage inflicted on civilians whom the terrorist leaders use as human shields, targeted assassination of terrorist leaders is less likely to harm innocents than most other strategies for combatting terror and more likely to disrupt future terrorist operations.

That does not prove that it should be the only strategy we use, but it does mean that we should reject condemnations of it as somehow immoral.

UPDATE: This Reuters report confirms that the special forces were instructed to kill Bin Laden rather than capture him (HT: Instapundit).

That’s my argument in a new article for The Daily Caller. As I’ve previously explained, I strongly support the use of force against the Gaddafi tyranny. Indeed, I wish that President Obama were not so half-hearted in taking action to remove Gaddafi. However, the war against the Libyan dictator still needs to be voted on by Congress, just as President Jefferson asked Congress for permission regarding the First Barbary War.

As I noted a few days ago, Justice Richard Goldstone wrote a Washington Post op-ed last week in which he states that contrary to the implications of his eponymous report, Israel did not deliberately target civilians in Gaza during Operation Cast Lead.

Human Rights Watch contributed heavily to the content of the Goldstone Report, and has been among the most ardent promoters of the Report. Kenneth Roth, HRW’s director, suggests that HRW has nothing to apologize for because “HRW promoted the Goldstone report’s recommendation for investigations, pushing both Hamas and Israel to investigate its own war crimes. We never endorsed the report’s finding of an Israeli policy to target civilians.”

I originally referenced lying in the title of this post, but that proved to be a distraction, because, as I noted, Roth’s statement isn’t quite a lie, but perhaps a dishonest obfuscation. Roth chose his words carefully, and I suppose it’s technically true that HRW never explicitly endorsed a Goldstone Report finding that Israel had a policy of targeting civilians (although, see below, on Oct. 1, 2009, Roth himself pretty much did).

But let’s review some of the statements [I read some, but not all, of HRW's many reports on Cast Lead to find these] that HRW did make, and see whether a reasonable observer would conclude that HRW publicly and loudly agreed with the premise that Israel deliberately targeted civilians during Operation Cast Lead. I think the answer is obvious, and it’s yet another blow to HRW’s credibility, both because of its conflict with Goldstone’s current position, and because of Roth’s current misrepresentation of HRW’s views. (In none of the statements excerpted below did HRW provide any caveats to the effect that the incidents in question may have involved rogue soldiers or units, as opposed to being Israeli policy).

Let’s start with Mr. Roth himself, writing in the Jerusalem Post on Aug. 25, 2009:

Israel could have conducted the war by targeting only combatants [editor: if Israel could have but didn't target only combatants, doesn't that mean she targeted noncombatants, i.e., civilians?] and taking all feasible precautions to spare civilians, as required by international humanitarian law. That is mandated even though Hamas often violated these rules, because violations by one side do not justify violations by the other.

Instead, as Human Rights Watch has shown through detailed, on-the-ground investigations, Israeli forces fired white phosphorous munitions indiscriminately over civilian areas, shot and killed Palestinian civilians waving white flags, attacked children playing on rooftops with precision missiles fired from aerial drones and needlessly destroyed civilian property.

[Update: Roth again, Dec. 29, 2009 : "Israel's view that one prevails in asymmetric warfare by pummeling rather than protecting civilians is not only illegal but also counterproductive."

And one more time, Oct. 1, 2009: "Richard Goldstone's charge that Israel implemented a deliberate and systematic policy to inflict suffering on civilians in Gaza is not, as you said, the 'central organising premise' of his report. Rather it is the conclusion of the report arrived at after a serious examination of the evidence."

Then there is Sarah Leah Whitson, director of HRW's Middle East division, speaking in Saudi Arabia in May 2009: "Human Rights Watch provided the international community with evidence of Israel using white phosphorus and launching systematic destructive attacks on civilian targets."

Whitson again, in a public presentation on July 9, 2009: Israel’s use of white phosphorous and heavy artillery in Gaza were "violations of the law that require you to distinguish between civilians and combatants, and to target only combatants."]

You might object that the views of particular HRW officials don’t necessarily reflect official HRW positions, so let’s move on to various HRW reports, keeping in mind that Roth and Whiston’s views might color one’s understanding of any ambiguities.

HRW, April 23, 2009: “Human Rights Watch’s investigation into the fighting in Gaza concluded that Israeli forces were responsible for serious violations of the laws of war, including the use of heavy artillery and white phosphorus munitions in densely populated areas, the apparent targeting of people trying to convey their civilian status…”

HRW, Aug. 13 2009 [After discussing alleged "white flag" killings by Israeli soldiers]: “The Israel Defense Forces have for years permitted a pervasive culture of impunity regarding unlawful Palestinian deaths”

HRW, Sept. 16, 2009: “The 575-page report, released on September 15, 2009, documented serious violations of international humanitarian law by Israel, with some incidents amounting to war crimes and possible crimes against humanity, including willful killings.”

HRW, November 3, 2009: “It also found that Israeli forces unlawfully used white phosphorous munitions and heavy artillery in densely populated areas, fired upon civilians holding white flags.”

HRW, April 11, 2010: “Between December 27, 2008 and January 18, 2009, Israel’s “Operation Cast Lead” in Gaza killed several hundred Palestinian civilians and wounded many more, some during Israeli attacks that were indiscriminate, disproportionate or at times seemingly deliberate, in violation of the laws of war.”

HRW, Feb. 7, 2010: “Human Rights Watch documented 53 civilian deaths in 19 incidents in which Israeli forces appeared to have violated the laws of war. Six of these incidents involved the unlawful use of white phosphorus munitions; six were attacks by drone-launched missiles that killed civilians; and seven involved soldiers shooting civilians who were in groups holding white flags.”

HRW, Feb. 26, 2010: “Nor has [Israel] conducted credible investigations into military policies that may have contravened the laws of war or facilitated war crimes. These include the targeting of Hamas political institutions and Gaza police; the use of heavy artillery and white phosphorus munitions in populated areas; and the rules of engagement for aerial drone operators and ground forces.”

UPDATE: Amazingly, Amnesty International is similarly obfuscating its prior positions in the wake of Goldstone’s op-ed. Less than two weeks ago, Amnesty proclaimed re Operation Cast Lead: “Both sides violated international humanitarian law. Israeli forces killed civilians using precision weaponry, launched indiscriminate attacks which failed to distinguish legitimate military targets from civilians, and attacked civilian property and infrastructure.”

Today, however, Amnesty issued a press release claiming that “Amnesty International has not argued that the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) targeted Palestinian civilians ‘as a matter of policy’, but rather that IDF rules of engagement and actions during the conflict failed to take sufficient precautions to minimize civilian casualties.” Forgive me if I find the accusations of launching indiscriminate attacks against civilian targets and killing civilians with precision weapons to be rather more serious than “failing to take sufficient precautions to minimize civilian casualties.” Indeed, it’s hard to read the earlier accusations as anything but a claim of deliberate policy.

This leads to the interesting question of why HRW and Amnesty aren’t sticking to their guns. Two answers suggest themselves: (a) having Continue reading ‘Human Rights Watch (and Amnesty International) on Goldstone Retraction’ »

Religious freedom scholar Nina Shea reports that the United Nations Human Rights Council recently ended consideration of a resolution requiring states to ban “defamation of religion.” The Organization of the Islamic Conference decided not to push for a vote on the resolution, which had passed in each of the several years, when it became clear they didn’t have the votes to win this year.

This is a notable (and sadly rare) victory for freedom of speech and religion at the UN. In previous posts, Senior Conspirator Eugene Volokh and I have pointed out the threat that this resolution poses to individual freedom (see here, here, and here). The resolution is also a prime example of how repressive authoritarian regimes use international human rights law to try impose their despotic norms on the international community. For reasons John McGinnis and I explained in this article, the problem goes far beyond this particular resolution.

Unfortunately, this defeat may not be the end of the “defamation of religion” resolution. The OIC and its allies could try again in future years. The UN General Assembly adopted a similar resolution in November.

There is no easy solution to the challenge posed by this sort of international “human rights” initiative that seeks to undermine freedom rather than protect it. But the beginning of wisdom is to recognize the nature of the problem. We should also act to prevent the use of international human rights law influenced by dictatorships to override the domestic law of liberal democracies.

Ronald Radosh, commenting on Justice Goldstone’s bizarre “just kidding” op-ed in yesterday’s Washington Post about the eponymous Goldstone report on Israel’s conduct in Operation Cast Lead (despite the dateline, it’s not, near as I can tell, an April Fool’s joke):

In a stunning and unexpected turn of events, Judge Richard Goldstone has essentially reversed himself on the findings of the Goldstone Report. He does, of course, qualify his remarks to make it appear that he has not reversed himself. What he does, in effect, is to say that if only Israel had cooperated with his investigation from the start, he would not have reached the incorrect conclusions of the now famous and highly influential report. Israel, of course, had quite good reasons to distrust Goldstone, as his report did major damage. But one would rather have Judge Goldstone now blame Israel for his original damaging conclusions than to have him blame Israel for intentionally being the major human rights violator in the Middle East.

Now, Goldstone asserts, “We know a lot more today about what happened in the Gaza war of 2008-09 than we did when I chaired the fact-finding commission.” Poppycock! ….

He now argues, perhaps out of guilt or perhaps he decided his critics were correct, that “the purpose of the Goldstone Report was never to prove a foregone conclusion against Israel,” and that the original mandate of the UN Human Rights Council “was skewed against Israel.”

No foregone conclusion? Of the three other panelists besides Goldstone, one had already accused Israel of war crimes before the investigation and (verdict first, trial later), and another is so wildly anti-Israel that he holds an acknowledged grudge against Israel for purportedly murdering Irish U.N. peacekeepers (an event that never happened), and who also disclaimed his willingness to give any credence to photographic evidence of Hamas crimes presented by Israel. Goldstone himself was serving at the time as a board member of Human Rights Watch, which has hardly shown itself to be a neutral observer of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. And indeed, NGO Monitor has shown that big chunks of the Report’s accusations were lifted from unsubstantiated HRW material.

Goldstone apparently is starting to regret his role in the whole fiasco, and it’s certainly amusing to read various anti-Israel blogs that formerly lauded Goldstone as a hero for speaking truth to power now worrying about the “damage” he is doing to their cause. The key lines in his op-ed: while “the crimes allegedly committed by Hamas were intentional,” “civilians were not intentionally targeted [by Israel] as a matter of policy.”

But Goldstone agreed to lead a kangaroo court appointed by the U.N. Human Rights Council, which includes such human rights stalwarts as China, Cuba, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia. Penance is always welcome, but Goldstone will go down in history as the head kangaroo.

UPDATE: David Schraub comments:

My line on Goldstone had always been that the problems in his report were structural, not the result of a malignant heart. It was Goldstone’s determination to play a straight hand in a marked deck that was his undoing. Judge Goldstone was trying his level best, but there was no way to have a full and fair investigation — no matter how diligent one is at crossing t’s and dotting i’s — when the propagating party is the UNHRC and the investigation occurs within a context (the international legal community) that is shot through with bias and prejudice. There seems to be some belated realization by Judge Goldstone that this is true, but I fear it is for naught. Like his original report, his mea culpa is too legalistic to have much of an impact — it is, shall we say, unlikely that the UN will accede to PM Netanyahu’s demand that the original report be retracted in the wake of Judge Goldstone’s recantation. We are, and always were, in the realm of politics, not law. Judge Goldstone tried as hard as he could to imagine that was not so, but there is no way to extract oneself in cases such as this. His colleagues in the system understood the game, and he got rolled.

I think, additionally, that Goldstone took Israel’s refusal to participate in this “game” as a personal affront, rather than causing him, as he should have, to question the whole enterprise.