Opinio Juris

A weblog dedicated to reports, commentary, and debate on current developments and scholarship
in the fields of international law and politics

Friday, May 16, 2008

ATS Apartheid Case Affirmed by Supreme Court
In a strange move, the Supreme Court on Monday affirmed the ATS Apartheid case of Khulamani v. Barclay Bank (recaptioned at the Supreme Court as American Isuzu Motors v. Ntsebeza). The stated reason? The Court lacked a quorum. From the docket sheet:

Because the Court lacks a quorum, 28 U.S.C. § 1, and since a majority of the qualified Justices are of the opinion that the case cannot be heard and determined at the next Term of the Court, the judgment is affirmed under 28 U. S. C. § 2109, which provides that under these circumstances the Court shall enter its order affirming the judgment of the court from which the case was brought for review with the same effect as upon affirmance by an equally divided Court. The Chief Justice, Justice Kennedy, Justice Breyer, and Justice Alito took no part in the consideration or decision of this petition.
Under 28 U.S.C. § 1, "the Supreme Court of the United States shall consist of a Chief Justice of the United States and eight associate justices, any six of whom shall constitute a quorum." And under 28 U.S.C. § 2109, in any case "which cannot be heard and determined because of the absence of a quorum of qualified justices, if a majority of the qualified justices shall be of opinion that the case cannot be heard and determined at the next ensuing term, the court shall enter its order affirming the judgment of the court from which the case was brought for review with the same effect as upon affirmance by an equally divided court." Apparently four justices had to recuse themselves and therefore the Court lacked the six justice quorum required to decide the case.

If you look at the list of defendants it is perhaps not surprising that many of the justices had a conflict. Still, I have never heard of anything like this in such an important case. Lyle Denniston has more here.

Thursday, May 8, 2008

How Do You Interpret the Last-in-Time Rule?
Boring tax case, interesting international law issue. That's how I would summarize Jamieson v. CIR. The issue in Jamieson is what happens if a treaty says one thing, a subsequent statute conflicts with that treaty, and then there is a subsequent treaty change to the conflicting treaty provision, but that amendment does not remove the conflict. Under the last-in-time rule which provision prevails? Here is what the U.S. Tax Court ruled:


In 1986, while the U.S.-Canada Convention was in force, Congress amended the AMT imposed on noncorporate taxpayers by section 55 and added section 59 to the Code.... [Thereafter] the U.S.-Canada Convention was amended.... The revised Protocol Amending the Convention... made changes to Article XXIV affecting credits for Social Security tax, corporate tax exemptions, and the tax treatment of dividends, interest, and royalties,... but did not alter the general rule found in article XXIV, paragraph 1. Neither the Third nor the Fourth Protocol references section 59 [the earlier conflicting statutory provision].

It is well established that, where a statute and a treaty pertain to the same subject matter, they must be read so as to give effect to both if at all possible.... If, however, the statute and the treaty conflict, the last-in-time rule requires that “the last expression of the sovereign will ... [controls].”...

Applying the last-in-time rule, we hold that section 59(a)(2) is the last expression of the sovereign will and that it takes precedence over the U.S.-Canada Convention to the extent there is a conflict between them. [The statute] makes it very clear that Congress intended the limitation of section 59(a)(2) to supersede existing treaty provisions prohibiting double taxation. The U.S.-Canada Convention was one of those treaties. Neither the Third nor the Fourth Protocol contains any provision clearly indicating that Congress's intention to ensure that taxpayers with sufficient means should contribute a minimum amount of tax to the United States had been superseded.

So a treaty provision conflicts with a statute, and then that treaty provision is amended without fixing the conflict. Under the last-in-time rule, although the amended treaty provision came later, the failure to address the conflict means that the earlier conflicting statute controls? That logic seems more than a little curious to me. I wonder what others think.

Monday, May 5, 2008

Medellin Execution Date Set
Jose Ernesto Medellin is scheduled for execution by the state of Texas on August 5, 2008. If one assumes that Executive Branch officials have an interest in trying to find new ways to comply with the Avena decision (an open question I know), that does not leave them much time. From my perspective, the Executive Branch has two, equally unattractive, options.

First, they can try for federal legislation, which the Medellin decision suggests would be the appropriate vehicle for converting the non-self-executing treaty obligations of the UN Charter (or the VCCR Optional Protocol) into judicially enforceable domestic law. Of course, getting Congress to pass such a bill in an election year seems pretty unlikely, especially when one considers the crimes for which Mr. Medellin was convicted (and that's without even trying to figure out what the bill would say). Second, before the Supreme Court's decision, the Texas Criminal Court of Appeals had suggested that they'd enforce an Executive Agreement with Mexico "settling" Mexico's claims against the United States even with respect to criminal proceedings such as those involving Mr. Medellin. So perhaps Mexico and the United States could "agree" that Mexico has outstanding claims against the United States for its non-compliance with the Avena decision that will be resolved by providing the named individuals judicial review and reconsideration in U.S. Courts (again, there may be a thorny question of which U.S. courts -- federal or state?) But the Supreme Court's Medellin opinion may have made that option less viable--or at least given the Texas Court cause to reconsider its earlier views--since it took a much narrower view of Executive Power than earlier precedents like Crosby and Garamendi might otherwise have suggested.

Since I know we have a few readers out there who work for the Executive Branch, I'd encourage others to chime in with their views on the options I propose and/or alternative solutions that could lead to Avena compliance in some manner that's consistent with the Court's Medellin decision.
Are Evolving Standards of Decency a One-Way Ratchet?
One of the more intriguing questions from the oral argument in the child rape death penalty case of Kennedy v. Louisiana is whether evolving standards of decency are a one-way ratchet. Here is Justice Stevens' question from the oral argument last month:


[O]ne question that interests me but is a little divorced from the terms of the arguments so far. I know it is not popular to refer to refer to international commentary on issues like this, but the English law lords have filed an amicus brief discussing the international principle that nations that retain the death penalty may not extend the death penalty to crimes to which it does not presently apply. They suggest that as a matter of international law, there's sort of a correspondence to our evolving standards of decency that have generally governed our Eighth Amendment jurisprudence. It's kind of a one-way rachet, we look at trends in one direction but we don't look to see if you suddenly have changed gears and go in the other direction. Could you just comment on that argument?... I just use[] that as an analogy to our evolving standards of decency cases which has been part of our Eighth Amendment jurisprudence, that sort of is a — one way direction in which these cases go. Do you think it's appropriate — are you aware of any case saying we can turn around and go in another direction?

The amicus brief of British Law Lords referenced by Justice Stevens summarizes the one-way ratchet argument succinctly:

International authorities have long agreed that nations that retain the death penalty must refrain from expanding the death penalty to crimes to which it currenlty does not apply--a principle that has been codified in a regional convention and reaffirmed by the jurisprudence of human rights bodies. There is an equally strong global consensus that nations should gradually narrow the categories of offenses for which the death penalty may be imposed.

It is an interesting idea. Note that the role of comparative and international law is not with respect to the content of a particular substantive right but rather the methodology by which standards should evolve. The question posed is not what other countries do with respect to child rape and the death penalty, but rather whether other countries allow for the expansion of the death penalty. Justice Stevens is suggesting that perhaps a living constitution should evolve in the same manner that international law evolves, with the death penalty moving in only one direction toward abolition.

The apparent concern that animates Justice Stevens' question is that the national consensus may be trending toward allowing the death penalty for child rape. If the national consensus is evolving toward a conclusion that this punishment is not cruel and unusual, on what basis can Justice Stevens limit the use of that evolving standard? I seriously doubt that the Court will rely on international or comparative law to embrace a one-way ratchet, but it is worth discussing whether our own jurisprudence would allow for such a limit on the evolving standards of decency.

Thursday, May 1, 2008

John Yoo and the Justice Case -- Post at Balkinization
Marty Lederman has kindly published a long post I have written on what — if anything — the Justice Case has to say about the criminal responsibility of government lawyers like Yoo. Here is the introduction:
Scholars who argue that John Yoo’s authorship of the infamous torture memos makes him complicit in various war crimes -– torture, illegal detention, etc. -– almost invariably cite the WWII-era case United States v. Alstoetter, commonly referred to as the Justice Case, for the proposition that a government lawyer can be held criminally responsible for giving erroneous legal advice to his political superiors. Here, for example, is what Scott Horton, an excellent scholar and one of our finest bloggers, has to say:
Can a lawyer at the Department of Justice be criminally liable for giving opinions that lead to the torture and abuse of prisoners in war time? The answer is: Yes. The precedent is United States v. Altstoetter. The sentence handed down was ten years, less time served awaiting trial. It’s a case for John Yoo to study in the period leading up to his inevitable prosecution.
I do not know enough about Yoo’s actions to venture a general opinion about their possible criminality. I do know something, however, about the Justice Case -– I am currently writing a book for Oxford University Press on the jurisprudence of that trial and the eleven other trials held in the American zone of occupation between 1946 and 1949, which are collectively known as the Nuremberg Military Tribunals (NMT). So I thought readers might be interested in a detailed look at what the Justice Case says -– or doesn’t say -– about the culpability of government lawyers who advise their clients that unlawful conduct is, in fact, lawful. The bottom line, in my view, is that as reprehensible as Yoo’s opinions were –- and they were indeed reprehensible -– the case provides far less support for prosecuting him than most scholars assume.
I hope readers will check out the entire post, along with Marty's excellent introduction, in which he discusses his general views on the issue. I completely agree with Marty and hope that readers will not misunderstand my position. I am not saying that nothing John Yoo and the other government lawyers did could ever be considered criminal. I am not saying that the Justice Case rules out the possibility of a future prosecution. Indeed, I can imagine — counterfactually — a situation in which the NMT would have convicted a government lawyer of complicity for giving his political superiors advice he knew full well violated international law. My position is simply that the Justice Case did not involve such a situation and that, as a result, the judgment has almost no precedential value for a future prosecution of Yoo and/or others.

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

When Does Application of the Warsaw Convention End and State Tort Law Begin?
Last week a Florida state court rendered an interesting decision on the scope of application of the Warsaw Convention. The court recognized that state tort law is preempted by the Warsaw Convention, but the critical question in Bowe v. Worldwide Flight Services was at what point in exiting a plane does the application of the treaty end and state tort law begin.


The plaintiffs in this case allege they were injured as a result of an accident that occurred on an up escalator as they exited an area the parties describe as a “bus depot,” located one level below Main Concourse E at the airport, when Mrs. Ferguson, Mrs. Deleveaux's eighty-eight-year-old mother, apparently fell backward onto both Ms. Bowe and Mrs. Deleveaux, resulting in all three suffering personal injuries. The complaint alleges the defendants were negligent by failing to fulfill a request for wheelchair assistance made for Mrs. Ferguson, which caused the plaintiffs to fend for themselves and hence, the escalator accident.

The record reflects the accident in this case occurred on July 29, 2001. Ms. Bowe, Mrs. Deleveaux, and Mrs. Ferguson had just arrived in Miami on an American Eagle commuter aircraft from Nassau. The aircraft arrived at a freestanding building, separate from the main concourse. In accordance with practice for aircraft arriving at that location, Ms. Bowe, Mrs. Deleveaux, and Mrs. Ferguson departed the aircraft and boarded an American Airlines bus for the short trip to the main terminal. The bus brought them to the bus depot. Although it appears from the record the bus depot is served by two escalators and an elevator, at best the record is murky concerning ingress, egress, and the extent to which the general passenger populace on the concourses is free to enter the depot area….

The preemptive effect of the Convention on local law extends no further than the Convention's own substantive scope. In this regard, it is clear from the text of the Convention it applies only to a “carrier.” Warsaw Convention, art. 17. In addition, the Convention applies only to injuries occurring either on board an aircraft or “in the course of any operations of embarking or disembarking.” Warsaw Convention, art. 17. These requirements constitute the initial inquiries we must make to determine whether the Convention is applicable to the claims being made and those we must consider here….

The Warsaw Convention also does not define or elucidate upon the phrase “operations of embarking or disembarking.” See Warsaw Convention, art. 17. However, it is clear the term does not automatically exclude events transpiring, as is the case here, within an airline terminal building. Rather than impose location-based or other rigid criteria to delimit these periods of liability under the Warsaw Convention, courts employ a three-prong test or guide to determine whether a passenger is entitled to seek the benefits of the Convention by considering: (1) the passenger's activity at the time of the accident; (2) the passenger's whereabouts at the time of the accident; and (3) the amount of control being exercised by the carrier at the time of the injury. In addition, when considering these factors, these same courts have made clear that no single factor is dispositive. Instead, “the three factors form a ‘single, unitary [analytical] base.'"

That three-part test poses difficult questions as to when the application of the treaty ends and state law begins. Depending on what the passenger is doing, where they are doing it, and whether they are “controlled” by the carrier, the Warsaw Convention applies. The key idea is that there is a point in every flight of every passenger that he or she ceases to “disembark” from flight. At that exact moment state tort law applies. But before that moment, the Warsaw Convention applies and preempts contrary state law. So where should that line be? At the airplane door, the terminal gate, the baggage carousel, or perhaps the airport parking lot?

Incidentally, the court in Bowe makes no mention of Medellin and whether the Warsaw Convention should still be interpreted as a self-executing treaty in light of Medellin. Supreme Court precedent indicates that the Warsaw Convention is self-executing, but the preemption analysis in the Supreme Court’s decision in El Al Israel v. Tseng offers a useful comparison to the self-executing analysis in Medellin. In El Al Israel, the Court ruled that a “home-centered preemption analysis … should not be applied, mechanically, in construing our international obligations” and that the “text, drafting history, and underlying purpose of the Convention” should be examined to determine whether a treaty preempts state law. The Court also looked extensively to the interpretations given to the treaty in the “opinions of sister signatories.” Medellin, by contrast, focused primarily on text and the interpretion of the United States, which it said is entitled to great weight. As we try to make sense of Medellin, it would be useful to analyze why the Court ruled that the Warsaw Convention is self-executing in El Al Israel, but that in Medellin it ruled that Article 94 of the U.N. Charter is not.


Friday, April 25, 2008

Medellin Applied: VCCR Does Not Create a Private Right of Action
The U.S. Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit has taken the first crack at applying the Supreme Court's recent decision in Medellin with respect to self-executing treaties. In Mora v. People of New York, the Second Circuit rejected a foreign national's effort to win damages for violations of the Vienna Convention on Consular Relations. Interestingly, the Second Circuit, buttressed by Medellin's analysis of self-execution, held that a clear statement is required before a treaty will be read to create an individual private right. No such clear statement can be found in the VCCR under Article 36 and therefore no damages action under Section 1983 or the Alien Tort Statute can be sustained.

This seems like the right result. It is narrower and more defensible than Medellin because it limits the clear statement rule to the creation of private rights of action rather than self-execution in general. Still, a tricky issue and a worthy effort at resolving it from the Second Circuit.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Why Training Journalists in International Law is a Good Thing
The American Society of International Law has recently begun partnering with journalism schools in an effort to introduce international law to future reporters and editorial boards. And, publications like ASIL Insightsand IL.Post are circulated broadly among media outlets, and ASIL makes the expertise of its membership available when issues or cases arise in which explanations of the law can be helpful. But, as Jose Alvarez noted in this interview with the State Department Information Service, we still have a way to go. This recent editorial about Medellin v. Texas in the Augusta Chronicle is a case in point. How many errors can you spot in this piece?

The Right Ruling
Supreme Court Renders Sound Judgment in Standing up for Sovereignty
Augusta Chronicle Editorial Staff
Friday, April 18, 2008

Americans have had their quarrels with many past U.S. Supreme Court rulings, but the Supremes certainly got it right in Medellin v. the State of Texas. Despite opposition from the Bush administration, and many in Congress, the justices affirmed U.S. sovereignty over the World Court.

The case involved Jose Medellin, a Mexican native who along with five other gang members was convicted in a Houston, Texas, court 15 years ago of the brutal rape and murder of two teenage girls. Medellin's death sentence was upheld by the Texas Supreme Court, but in 2003 the Mexican government got involved, taking the case to the International Court of Justice, recently renamed the World Court.

Mexico charged that Medellin's rights were violated because at no point during his arrest and trial was he informed that under the Vienna Convention - an international treaty signed by the United States in 1963 - he could get legal assistance from the Mexican consulate.

The international court ruled that the United States violated the terms of the treaty, and ordered U.S. courts to review and reconsider not only Medellin's conviction, but also that of 50 other Mexican-born convicts on death row throughout the nation. President Bush agreed, and told state courts to comply with the international court's edict - in effect, subordinating U.S. law to a foreign jurisdiction.

Texas wasted no time in appealing to the U.S. Supreme Court, which recently ruled in Texas' favor. Writing for the justices' 6-3 majority, Chief Justice John Roberts wrote that U.S. courts are not always obligated to enforce international law - that "the judgments of an international tribunal" do not have "a higher status than that enjoyed by many of our most fundamental constitutional protections."

Texas Solicitor General Ted Cruz put the ruling in proper perspective: "The United States Constitution vests sovereignty in the Congress, the U.S. Supreme Court, the president, the 50 states and, ultimately, in we the people. Had Medellin prevailed, American sovereignty and independence would have been gravely undermined."

Indeed, it would have been - and shame on the three dissenting justices and President Bush for not understanding that.


To be sure, some of the mistakes could have been avoided with basic fact checking. But I have to believe that more knowledge of the field would be a good thing.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Sovereign Accountability for Human Rights Abuses
One of the unintended consequences of the movement to hold corporations liable for aiding and abetting human rights abuses is that doing so may prove to be the most effective way of holding sovereigns accountable. That is the surprising conclusion of my latest article just published in the Notre Dame Law Review. Here is an excerpt:


One has a nagging suspicion that human rights litigation against corporations is a proxy fight in which the accomplice is pursued while the principal evades punishment. Indeed, if a corporation is accused of "aiding and abetting" human rights abuses, this is all but a concession that the corporate actor is not the principal wrongdoer. It is of course possible that this controversial trend toward corporate responsibility may reflect a genuine concern about corporate abuse of power. But more likely it reflects an abiding frustration that the primary perpetrators-sovereigns-are beyond the reach of most victims. If victims cannot pursue claims against the principal, they will resign themselves to pursue claims against those who aid and abet.

How have we come to this state of affairs, in which the corporation is pursued while the sovereign evades punishment? Why should the corporate accomplice alone be found liable if the sovereign is the primary malfeasor? For the first time in scholarly literature, this Article suggests an alternative approach, a solution to this conundrum. It suggests that corporations have existing tools to remedy the situation, drawing on principles derived from human rights, contract law, and arbitration. The essential idea is that if a corporation is found liable for aiding and abetting human rights abuse, it may invoke contractual provisions in the agreement with the sovereign to arbitrate the question of shared responsibility. While the victims may not pursue the sovereign, there is no impediment for a corporation that is found liable to pursue the sovereign in arbitration to secure its share of liability, either in the form of contribution or indemnification. In short, human rights litigation against the corporation could lead to "who pays" arbitration against the sovereign….

The purpose of this Article is not to affirm or disaffirm this trend of holding corporations liable under international law. Rather its purpose is to recognize an observable trend in human rights litigation patterns and consider its ramifications. If corporations increasingly are subject to international responsibility, then this portends new avenues for holding sovereigns responsible for their share of the liability….

Human rights litigation followed by "who pays" arbitration is a two-step process that overcomes the traditional immunity that sovereigns enjoy in human rights litigation. Thus far, human rights litigants have attempted to scale an impregnable wall of sovereign immunity by relying on awkward FSIA tools such as commercial activity or implied waivers. But corporations have no such difficulties. They can invoke provisions in their contracts that were specifically drafted to fulfill the relatively straightforward FSIA exceptions of express waiver and arbitration. Corporations typically cannot implead and crossclaim against the sovereign in the underlying litigation. But they can do the next best thing by arbitrating the question of who pays for the human rights abuses. Effectively, the arbitration procedure operates as a second-tier cross-claim by one malfeasor against the other.

What is particularly important about this paradigm shift is that heretofore human rights abuse has been a relatively cost-free enterprise for perpetrators, particularly sovereigns…. But with corporate liability that equation changes dramatically. To use Guido Calabresi's scheme of cost avoidance, monetary incentives are placed on corporations to change their conduct so as to reduce the number and severity of human rights violations…. And by imposing a cost on corporations that aid and abet sovereign abuse, those corporations will become cost avoiders…. Holding corporations liable and then arbitrating who pays is a mechanism of imposing costs and then spreading the costs, resulting in the corporation and the sovereign becoming cost avoiders. By imposing and spreading costs to the secondary and primary perpetrators, greater fairness between the malfeasors is achieved and deterrence from human rights abuse is enhanced. Contractual arbitration between the corporation and the sovereign over who pays transfers costs imposed on the corporation and creates shared incentives to implement and enforce human rights obligations.

Friday, April 18, 2008

Bellinger Speaks Out on ATS Litigation
Last week State Department Legal Adviser John Bellinger delivered an important speech at Vanderbilt Law School on Alien Tort Statute litigation. The speech was a fascinating analysis of the future of ATS litigation, particularly its costs and benefits. To my knowledge, the speech is the first comprehensive statement ever by a senior Administration official, Republican or Democratic, about the legal and policy issues posed by ATS litigation.

Bellinger starts with a nice summary of the significant legal questions that remain unanswered since Sosa:


This continued litigation under the ATS reflects fundamental problems with how lower courts have approached these suits. These problems center on five key issues: First, whether the ATS applies extraterritorially – that is, whether a U.S. court can properly apply U.S. federal common law under the ATS to conduct that occurred entirely in the territory of a foreign State. Second, even if such a cause of action could properly be recognized, whether exhaustion of adequate and available local remedies in that foreign country should be a prerequisite to bringing an ATS suit. Third, whether corporations or other private entities may be held liable under the ATS for aiding and abetting human rights abuses perpetrated by foreign governments. A fourth issue is how to apply Sosa’s requirement that an international-law norm be sufficiently accepted and specific. And fifth, in what circumstances should courts dismiss suits based on what Sosa referred to as “case-specific deference to the political branches”?

Bellinger then highlights the costs and benefits of ATS litigation. The three principal benefits of ATS litigation he outlines are: (1) promoting accountability and providing a public voice to victims; (2) raising public and political awareness of human rights abuses; and (3) advancing U.S. participation in the development of customary international law. But these benefits, he asserts, are not legal arguments, and may not be as great as they appear.

As for the costs, Bellinger identifies three: (1) ineffective relief in most cases; (2) “diplomatic costs” and the (3) “lack of democratic checks and accountability.” I think the diplomatic costs of ATS litigation are particularly important and real, and rarely included in the calculus of whether to allow ATS litigation to go forward. As Bellinger notes, the United States is perceived by other countries to be a “rogue actor” by encouraging international civil litigation against other countries but resisting efforts to hold the United States criminally responsible before international tribunals.


We are perceived, accurately, as having in effect established an International Civil Court – a court with jurisdiction to decide cases brought by foreigners arising anywhere in the world, by the light only of its own divination of universal law, and through the extraterritorial application of U.S. law concerning rights and remedies. By itself, this can be grating enough to foreign governments. But it is especially so when taken together with both the fact that the U.S. often argues vigorously against the assertion by foreign courts of universal jurisdiction to hear cases involving U.S. officials, and the fact that the U.S. has declined to join the International Criminal Court because of concerns about that tribunal’s jurisdiction.

I think that argument of diplomatic costs has a tremendous amount of force. Of course, reasonable people may disagree as to whether that means we should curtail ATS litigation in the United States or welcome the possibility of international criminal litigation elsewhere against United States actors. The status quo, however, does appear duplicitous and understandably is perceived as such by other countries.

The absence of democratic accountability is another important cost of ATS litigation, and one that highlights the potential disconnect between Executive branch interests and the victims’ interests.


The Executive Branch has real interests in ensuring that as a matter of policy, ATS litigation does not interfere with its conduct of foreign relations. I have already noted foreign governments’ concerns about the scope of U.S. court jurisdiction under the ATS. In addition, recent ATS suits have been used by litigants to duplicate, replace, or proceed on top of the U.S. government’s systemic efforts to reform foreign government practices or help end foreign conflicts. Often, these suits are brought as class actions for all aliens injured by the challenged conduct, effectively asking the U.S. courts to serve as administrator of an international claims program for foreign nationals.

The solution, Bellinger suggests, is either for courts to exercise more restraint consistent with Sosa, or for Congress to introduce legislation that curtails ATS litigation in a manner akin to the Torture Victim Protection Act (which includes a statute of limitations and defined causes of action) or the Flatow Amendment to the FSIA (which allows for greater Executive branch involvement in limiting the scope of litigation).

The take away message is that Sosa’s attempt to rein in ATS litigation has largely failed and that if courts do not more carefully monitor this litigation it will continue to cause foreign relations problems.

It is an important message. I think it would be quite valuable for a scholar to carefully examine the various statements of interest and amicus briefs filed by the United States in over a dozen ATS cases, combined with the concerns expressed in Bellinger's speech to illuminate the foreign affairs concerns at stake in ATS litigation.

In sum, Bellinger appears to be echoing some of the concerns raised by the Supreme Court in Sosa. As the Court put it in that case, "Since many attempts by federal courts to craft remedies for the violation of new norms of international law would raise risks of adverse foreign policy consequences, they should be undertaken, if at all, with great caution." Then again in a footnote the Court emphasized that a "possible limitation" to ATS litigation "is a policy of case-specific deference to the political branches.... In such cases [as the apartheid litigation], there is a strong argument that federal courts should give serious weight to the Executive Branch’s view of the case’s impact on foreign policy." That foreign policy limit identified by the Court and now repeated by the State Department Legal Adviser has yet to be fully explored by the courts or scholars.

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Supreme Court Averts War Between Delaware and New Jersey
Okay maybe not war exactly. But last month the Supreme Court rendered an interesting opinion resolving a bitter border dispute between Delaware and New Jersey. Just how bitter? Well, according to the Court, the dispute became so heated that “Delaware considered authorizing the National Guard to protect its border from encroachment [and] one New Jersey legislator looked into recommissioning the museum-piece battleship U.S.S. New Jersey in the event that the vessel might be needed to repel an armed invasion by Delaware.” Armed invasion of the Jersey shore by the Delaware National Guard?

What could have led these two states to almost come to blows? Of course, oil. Well, okay not oil exactly, but natural gas. In essence, New Jersey wanted to construct a natural gas facility in New Jersey and build a pier that extended into Delaware waters for supertankers to dock. Delaware refused to authorize this, which led New Jersey to conclude that Delaware was acting beyond the scope of its regulatory authority.

Why would Delaware not have the authority to regulate the construction of a pier within its own territory? Ordinarily it would, of course, but a 1905 Compact between the states gave New Jersey the right to build such a pier without Delaware’s approval. Or so New Jersey argued.

New Jersey read the Compact to give New Jersey “exclusive regulatory authority over all projects appurtenant to its shores, including wharves extending past the low-water mark on New Jersey's side into Delaware territory.” The Court disagreed. I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice it to say that the Court interpreted the 1905 Compact to conclude that both states had concurrent jurisdiction over the matter.

So Delaware won the day and the great New Jersey War was averted. Thank goodness, otherwise the next Supreme Court case between Delaware and New Jersey would be over the interpretation of Article I, Section 10 of the Constitution: “No State shall, without the Consent of Congress, … engage in War, unless actually invaded, or in such imminent Danger as will not admit of delay.”


Can the Vice President Break a Treaty Vote Tie?
I got a chance last night (in my ASIL Conference hotel room) to catch an episode of HBO's Miniseries "John Adams" (Episode 5, "Unite or Die") and it is as good as advertised. Sure, the characters look a bit silly in their costumes, but the acting is good enough to make these historical figure seem real. And there is drama, even though everyone knows how the story will end.

But in their laudable efforts to build drama around obscure historical events like the 1795 Jay Treaty, the writers may have gone a step too far. In its dramatic climax, Vice President John Adams votes in the Senate to ratify the Jay Treaty, thus breaking a 15-15 deadlock. Jay Treaty supporters rejoice, and Adams becomes the enemy of anti-Jay Treaty Republicans.

But can the Vice President of the U.S. break a treaty vote "tie"? Not likely, given that a treaty needs two-thirds of the Senate. Hmm. I appreciate the efforts to dramatize historical events, a treaty vote no less, but still. I can't quite swallow this one.

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

What's the Status of the US-Canada Boundary after Medellin?
It's not often that an NPR show features treaties, but last week, Ira Glass of This American Life, had a fascinating story about the US-Canada International Boundary Commission (listen to Act 1). In short, he recounts a fight between a Bush-appointed commissioner Dennis Schornack and the Justice Department over the application of a series of treaties between the United States and Canada establishing the US-Canada boundary line and empowering two commissioners (one appointed by each side) to operate as an International Boundary Commission (IBC) with the charge of overseeing and maintaining the boundary. The current controversy combines questions of treaty interpretation, international organizations law, and constitutional law. It started as a treaty interpretation problem. Article 4 of the 1925 Boundary Demarcation Treaty provides:

The Contracting Parties, in order to provide for the maintenance of an effective boundary line between the Dominion of Canada and the United States . . . hereby agree that the Commissioners appointed under the provisions of the Treaty of April 11, 1908, are hereby jointly empowered and directed: to inspect the various sections of the boundary line . . . at such times as they shall deem necessary; to repair all damaged monuments and buoys; to relocate and rebuild monuments which have been destroyed; to keep the boundary vistas open . . . to maintain at all times an effective boundary line between the Dominion of Canada and the United States . . . as defined by the present Treaty and Treaties heretofore concluded, or hereafter to be concluded; and to determine the location of any point of the boundary line which may become necessary in the settlement of any question that may arise between the two Governments.

The Commission has evidently relied on the authority to "keep the boundary vistas open" in this treaty to maintain a 20 foot strip (ten feet on either side) free from any natural or man-made obstructions along the more than 5,000 mile boundary. For decades the two sides have stopped private property owners and others from building within the 20 foot strip to preserve this vista. And, until recently, no one had ever challenged their legal authority to do so. But when a Washington couple--Shirley-Ann and Herbert Leu--were asked by the IBC to stop building a small retaining wall less than 10 feet from the border, they sued the IBC in U.S. court and challenged its ability to interfere with their property rights. When the IBC's American Commissioner, Dennis Schornack, sought the assistance of DOJ (the State Department having told him that he represented an independent international organization that they could not help), he was surprised to learn DOJ sided with the property owners (the story never gets specific on why the Justice Department took this position; I'm assuming DOJ might argue that there's a 5th Amendement problem with maintaining the vista on private property and that under Reid v. Covert whatever the domestic legal status of U.S. treaties, they cannot contravene the Constitution). The Justice Deparment, moreover, informed Schornack that he was an agent of the Executive and could not take an independent position on the treaty's meaning, but had to adopt that of the Executive. Schornack refused, arguing that although appointed by President Bush, the treaty made him into an "independent" commissioner of an international organization, one whom the President could neither fire nor control. The Administration proceeded to replace Schorack, a move recently upheld by the District Court for the Western District of Washington on the grounds that the President's removal power was not limited by any of the US-Canada treaties setting up the IBC.

The story appears to have been put together pre-Medellin, and so I listened to it wondering what the effect of that decision would be on the domestic enforceability of the various boundary treaties, including U.S. authority to maintain the vista. For starters, I'm assuming that the Court would find the treaty text itself does not establish that it is self-executing, particularly where Canada follows the British practice of having no self-executing treaties (and, indeed, unlike the United States, Canada actually passed a law to implement the boundary, the IBC and its work). I haven't looked at the treaties' legislative histories, but given their dates of 1908 and 1925, I'd be very surprised if there's any affirmative indication by the Executive or the Senate that these treaties were intended to be self-executing. And, if that's true, under the logic of Medellin, we'd have to say the boundary treaties are not self-executing. And, if they're not self-executing, according to the Court, it appears that they are not federal law. So far so good for DOJ in reinforcing its view that authority to maintain a vista can't deprive private property owners of their right to build on their property. But, if it's true that the boundary provisions are not federal law, then what's the legal authority for enforcing the boundary line at all? Is there some statute out there that authorizes the Executive Branch to maintain the boundary line where it is and keep folks from crossing it, moving it, or building much larger obstructions than a 3 foot retaining wall? If not, could Medellin have the unintended consequence of wiping out our border with Canada until Congress legislates it?

Now, I'd assume that the courts would not go so far, even if that's the direction Medellin clearly points. For example, I'd expect that, unlike the enforcement of ICJ decisions, one could find Congress has acquiesced in the U.S.-Canada boundary. My point though is that even as Medellin clarified the long-debated doctrinal questions of what it means for a treaty to be non-self-executing, and when to find a treaty qualifies as such, it has opened up whole new areas of confusion over the current domestic legal status of treaties that were otherwise silent on the self-executing question. I'd be interested to know if any of our readers have views on this case, or other instances, where you think Medellin may curtail the domestic legal status of U.S. treaties in unanticipated ways.

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Eric Lichtblau's Bush's Law: Has American Justice Been Remade, or Just Bungled?
NY Times reporter Eric Lichtblau has published an account of DOJ during the Bush years, Bush's Law: The Remaking of American Justice, which we can add to the growing shelf of books looking at the legal aspects of Bush Administration national security policy. It mostly hews to the formula: bad things done, people hurt, the Constitution trashed.

The book is a taut read; Lichtblau is a talented reporter. The material on the NSA surveillance regime is the centerpiece, a story Lichtblau broke with James Risen. But I don't think the material comes anywhere close to its "All the President's Men" aspirations (Jeff Rosen has a contrary take on that). DOJ looks more like a bunch of bumblers than serious heavies, and the law seems to have survived the test mostly intact. It's low theater rather than high. That's not to say that there haven't been many collateral casualties, but at least at home nothing like during the McCarthy era (most of us would have lost our jobs by now).

For more, see my review in the New York Observer here.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

The Use of Statutory Construction in Defining Torture
Here is a key excerpt from pages 36-39 of the March 2003 "Torture" Memorandum:


Section 2340 defines the act of torture as an: act committed by a person acting under the color of law specifically intended to inflict severe physical or mental pain or suffering (other than pain or suffering incidental to lawful sanctions) upon another person within his custody or physical control....

The key statutory phrase in the definition of torture is the statement that acts amount to torture if they cause "severe physical or mental pain or suffering." In examining the meaning of a statute, its text must be the starting point. See INS v. Phinpathya, 464 U.S. 183, 189 (1984). Section 2340 makes plain that the infliction of pain or suffering per se, whether it is physical or mental, is insufficient to amount to torture. Instead, the pain or suffering must be "severe." The statute does not, however, define the term "severe." "In the absence of such a definition, we construe a statutory term in accordance with its ordinary or natural meaning." FDIC v. Meyer, 510 U.S. 471, 476 (1994). The dictionary defines "severe" as "[u]nsparing in exaction, punishment, or censure" or "[I]nflicting discomfort or pain hard to endure; sharp; afflictive; distressing; violent; extreme; as severe pain, anguish, torture." Webster's New International Dictionary 2295 (2d ed. 1935); see American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language 1653 (3d ed. 1992) ("extremely violent or grievous: severe pain") (emphasis in original); IX The Oxford English Dictionary 572(1978) ("Of pain, suffering, loss, or the like: Grievous, extreme" and "of circumstances ...: hard to sustain or endure"). Thus, the adjective "severe" conveys that the pain or suffering must be of such a high level of intensity that the pain is difficult for the subject to endure.

Congress's use of the phrase "severe pain" elsewhere in the U. S. Code can shed more light on its meaning. See, e.g., West Va. Univ. Hosps., Inc. v. Casey, 499 U.S. 83, 100 (1991) ("[W]e construe [a statutory term] to contain that permissible meaning which fits most logically and, comfortably into the body of both previously and subsequently enacted law.). Significantly, the phrase "severe pain" appears in statutes defining an emergency medical condition for the purpose of providing health benefits. See, e.g., 8 U.S.C. § 1369 (2000); 42 U.S.C § l395w-22 (2000); id. § 1395x (2000); id. § 1395dd (2000); id § 1396b (2000); id § 1396u-2 (2000). These statutes define an emergency condition as one "manifesting itself by acute symptoms of sufficient severity (including severe pain) such that a prudent lay person, who possesses an average knowledge of health and medicine, could reasonably expect the absence of 'immediate medical attention to result in-placing the health of the individual ... (i) in serious jeopardy, (ii) serious impairment to bodily functions, or (iii) serious dysfunction of any bodily organ or part." Id. § 1395w-22(d)(3)(B) (emphasis added). Although these statutes address a substantially different subject from section 2340, they are nonetheless helpful for understanding what constitutes severe physical pain. They treat severe pain as an indicator of ailments that are, likely to result in permanent and serious physical damage in the absence of immediate medical treatment. Such damage must rise to the level of death, organ failure, or the permanent, impairment of a significant body function. These statutes suggest that to constitute torture "severe pain" must rise to a similarly high level-the level that would ordinarily be associated with a physical condition or injury sufficiently serious that it would result in death, organ failure, or serious impairment of body functions.


If there was one principal complaint about the torture memos, it would be about statutory construction. When critics ridicule the memos for equating torture with organ failure, they are doing so because they disagree with how the statute was interpreted.

So let's look at the use of statutory construction in defining torture, and especially the phrase "severe pain." It is worth noting that the memo relied on only two rules of statutory construction to define "severe pain." First it focused on plain meaning and cited dictionary definitions. Second, it used the rule of in pari materia, which says that when a statute is ambiguous its meaning may be determined in light of other statutes on the same subject. Much of the criticism has been on the misuse of the second rule, arguing that a statute about health benefits is not on the same subject as a statute about torture.

But little has been said of other rules of statutory construction that were ignored. I think it would be worthwhile to open up discussion and identify other rules of statutory construction that could (and arguably should) have been used in the torture analysis. Legislative intent is one obvious rule of construction. Avoidance of an unconstitutional interpretation is another. The Charming Betsy doctrine that would require the statute to be read consistent with international law is yet another. A fourth might be judicial interpretations (at home and abroad) of the Convention Against Torture. Previous interpretations of the statute would be a fifth. The rule of ejusdem generis is a sixth, which would have led to an interpretation of "severe" that could apply to both physical and mental pain. Are there others that come readily to mind? For example, is there any room to argue for Chevron deference or other rules of statutory construction?

Monday, March 31, 2008

Researching the Legislative History of U.S. Treaties
Much of the attention on Medellin has (rightly to my mind) focused on the Court’s definition of a non-self-executing treaty and its method for finding the 3 treaties at issue—the VCCR Optional Protocol, the ICJ Statute and Article 94 of the U.N. Charter—to be non-self-executing. Whatever the more general implications of the Court’s method with respect to a presumption for non-self-executing treaties, it’s now very clear that the Court cares about a treaty’s domestic legislative history—i.e., what domestic legal effect the President and the Senate intended or expected the treaty to have. Now, in many instances the President and the Senate may not have had much to say on this question or what they do say may be ambiguous, but on occasion one or both may be quite clear about the treaty's intended domestic operation. In each case, however, the difficulty may well lie in finding the relevant records, if any, of the Executive and/or the Senate's views. Fortunately, there’s a relatively new resource to help with this undertaking. Christian L. Wiktor (who’s earlier Unperfected Treaties series provided an invaluable resource on treaties that never entered into force for the United States) has produced a new volume – Treaties Submitted to the United States Senate; Legislative History 1989-2004 (Brill, 2006). According to the publisher:

The main part is arranged chronologically by the date of conclusion of the treaty. Each treaty contains the following components: it provides general information about the treaty; it lists chronologically steps taken by the Senate during the treaty approval process; legislative implementation, executive action following Senate approval; entry into force, and annotations, such as references to related treaties, amendments, and present status.

The 329 treaties included in the volume can be searched by date of signature, treaty document number, or subject. In addition, there are a series of appendices that allow one to examine which treaties received “en bloc” advice and consent as well as classifications of treaties based on Senate action (i.e., advice and consent without modification, outright rejection, not to mention the multitude of in-between options such as conditioning advice and consent on declarations, reservations, understandings, provisos, etc.). It’s a very useful resource and one that I expect will get increasing use now that the Court has emphasized the importance of legislative history, not just to the justiciability of a treaty, but its very status as law of the United States.

Friday, March 28, 2008

Medellin and Youngstown
[William Dodge is a law professor at UC Hastings]

I’ve not seen anyone comment yet on what I thought was one of the more notable aspects of Chief Justice Roberts’s opinion, its application of Justice Jackson’s Youngstown analysis. The question is how to read congressional silence. Although I am greatly oversimplifying, Jackson seemed to read Congress’s failure to authorize what the President did in Youngstown as implicit disapproval (category 3). In Dames & Moore, by contrast, Justice Rehnquist read Congress’s silence as approval (category 1). Roberts’s opinion in Medellin seems to follow Jackson rather than Rehnquist and to treat silence as implicit disapproval (category 3).

As chance would have it, Rehnquist clerked for Jackson the term that Youngstown was decided and Roberts clerked for Rehnquist clerked the term that Dames & Moore was decided. I’m sure there is a great law review article to be written here (though I am not the one to write it).

Thursday, March 27, 2008

A Quick Response to Marty: Justice Stevens is a Foreign Affairs Federalist!
I wanted to jump in with a quick response to Marty's awesome post about what is, without question, the most surprising (and for me, delightful) part of the Medellin opinion: Justice Stevens' concurrence.

I love this concurrence, especially because I am (to put it mildly) rarely fond of Justice Stevens' forays into foreign relations law. This is, after all, the author of both Rasul and Hamdan. But give the Court's senior justice his due: Justice Stevens seems to be genuinely constrained by his view of the law, and not his very clear policy preferences (to rule for Medellin). This may be true of the other Justices, but it is much harder to tell.

So here's my take on his thinking: Article 94 does not, in his view, require the United States to comply with the ICJ ruling. All it has to do is "undertake to comply," which in his reading, is not a mandatory obligation. So the Supremacy Clause is imposing a non-mandatory obligation on the U.S. here and neither authorizes the President's action nor requires Texas to do anything. All Texas is obligated to do is whatever the U.S. is obligated to do, which is to "undertake to comply," which is non-mandatory.

To put it another way, the "obligation" here for Texas is one of upholding honor and integrity with respect to conduct with foreign nations. Justice Stevens is recognizing here something that I have argued in a number of law review articles (at greatest length here): state governments have often believed they had the primary duty to manage certain aspects of foreign relations that intersected their domain. And the federal government has often agreed that the states have this task, and has left such questions to the states. (Recall that in both the Breard and LaGrand cases, President Clinton basically took that position with respect to those earlier ICJ rulings).

This is why Stevens is asking, pleading, for Texas to come to its senses and give Mr. Medellin his hearing. He is recognizing that, in the U.S. system, the states often are the only governmental entities empowered to fulfill certain treaty international law obligations (although they have no constitutional duty to do so). It is a bit a strange result, but it is actually (in my reading of historical practice) hardly unprecedented.


Wednesday, March 26, 2008

First Reaction on Medellin, Self-Execution, Etc.
[Mark Weisburd is the Martha M. Brandis Professor of Law at UNC Law School.]

I find it difficult to read Medellin as institutionalizing a presumption against self-execution. If that had been Roberts's intent, the form of his argument should have been, "We presume non self-execution, is there anything to overcome the presumption?" Instead, he analyzed the text, ratification hearings, and practice of other treaty parties to conclude that Art. 94 was not intended to create obligations for domestic courts. The conclusion seems reasonable to me - 94(2)'s according the Security Council discretion to refuse to enforce an ICJ judgment is hard to reconcile with a domestic judicial duty to enforce those same judgments - but it certainly isn't reached with the aid of presumption.

David Sloss's post makes an important point regarding the branch of the federal government with the repsonsibility to execute particular treaties. As he pointed out to me in a colloquy some time ago, whatever the status of some generic ICJ judgment, this particular judgment specifically requires action by American judges and it is impossible to carry out the international obligation admittedly created by the judgment without judicial action. The problem I see is that, if Art. 94 in general does not require domestic judicial implementation, and if the Senate consented to American submission to the ICJ only on the understanding that there was no requirement of domestic judicial enforcement, what happens when a particular ICJ judgment is meaningless without such enforcement? I find the Senate's understanding crucial. Necessarily, it seems to me, the "treaties" to which the Supremacy Clause refers are those to which the Senate understood itself to be consenting. That is, a treaty for purposes of American judicial treatment imposes only those obligations which the Senate saw the treaty as creating. So - to address David's argument - if the treaty to which the Senate thought it consented never requires judicial enforcement of ICJ judgments, then that's the treaty which is the supreme law of the land. It may well be reasonable to argue that, at least on these facts, that not the best reading of Art. 94, but, if I'm right, the only issue is determining the Senate's understanding of the treaty, not determining whether that understanding necessarily makes sense. Indeed, when the Court holds that the Senate's understanding of Art. 94 as creating no domestic legal effects disables the president from seeking to implement Avena, it seems to put just that degree of weight on the Senate's understanding.

Three other quick points. First, I think Ernie Young is exactly right that upholding the effect of Bush's memo here would have had immense consequences. The administration's argument was that the president can negate state law in order to carry out international legal obligations not otherwise binding in the US. Given the breadth of at least some readings of customary international law these days, it's hard to imagine a subject as to which the President could not, effectively, legislate by decree if that argument had prevailed. I would add that the Court's take on the consequences of the Senate's understanding would seem to put to rest the controversy during the Reagan administration regarding the President's authority to "reinterpret" treaties, according them a meaning different from that the Senate thought they had when it consented to ratification. Finally, regarding Paul Stephan's point about the Court's examining other states' readings of Art. 94, I would note that this follows straight from the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties. Indeed, one of the reasons the ICJ was wrong in LaGrand and Avena was that it ignored other states' readings of the Consular Convention.

Comment on Medellin
[Edward Swaine is an Associate Professor of Law at the George Washington University Law School. ]

The quick scorecard on Medellin is pretty simple: Texas wins, the ICJ loses, and the President loses. I have lots of reactions to what the opinions say about the ICJ, non-self-execution, and even comparative law, but let's just focus on this bottom line.

The first two claims have already been spun. As to Texas, Peter makes the point that freedom may have a price. (And Justice Stevens thought that Texas might step up and take one for the team; I suppose hope springs eternal.) As to the ICJ, Chief Justice Roberts suggests that a sparer approach to self-execution is indispensable for U.S. treatymaking, since any other approach might "hobble" U.S. willingness to enter into agreements by causing too much anxiety about what courts would do. If this reasoning is accepted – and there's something to it, though I am not persuaded – it probably applies even more forcefully to dispute-resolution mechanisms, so this decision could be celebrated as a shot in the arm for U.S. willingness to go before the ICJ! (Not that it will particularly improve the reception once we get there, but you can't have it all.)

So what about the third result — the President's loss? I myself have argued that President should be understood to have the authority to implement even some non-self-executing treaty obligations via the Take Care Clause, which is a constrained kind of power — it authorizes only to the extent it binds. The Court gives that the back of the hand. It also rejects what the executive branch was arguing, which depended on the power to make sole executive agreements, and should be understood as cutting back on attempts to extrapolate from that line of precedent. As many have pointed out, however, the circumstances giving rise to this assertion of presidential power are pretty unusual: Not only is the President trying to embrace an ICJ decision that the United States lost, but he is doing so while continuing to insist that the ICJ was wrong. Not too appealing a pitch, and not too likely to come up in the near future, even if the Court has single-handedly saved dispute resolution.

So is there a countervailing upside for the President, like there is for the ICJ? Something much more substantial, to my reckoning – if not exactly to my liking. The near presumption against self-execution, the reliance on domestic political branches to confirm that presumption, and the deference to executive branch treaty interpretation, among other things, all force the conclusion that it will be yet harder in the future to invoke treaty obligations in court contrary to executive branch interests. Even a marginal change along this line of authority is quite important to presidential authority, since it applies in many more circumstances, and in many cases of keener concern to the President, than will the case's holdings with regard to ICJ decisions. Geneva Conventions, anyone?