Entity Liability Under the TVPA and the ATS: Why the Supreme Court’s Decision in Mohamad Is Probably Irrelevant to Kiobel

Last week, the Supreme Court issued its opinion in Mohamad v. Palestinian Authority, et al., the TVPA case that was argued on the same day as Kiobel. The majority opinion, written by Justice Sotomayor, is a rather prosaic summary of Statutory Interpretation 101, and the opinion as a whole deftly avoids grappling with any of deeper questions of law that the TVPA could potentially implicate.

This is not entirely surprising, as the question before the court in Mohamad was relatively straightforward: does the TVPA’s authorization of suit against “[a]n individual” extended liability only to natural persons? The Court unanimously answered yes, citing the dictionary as its predominant authority for its conclusion. The Court also relies heavily on the perceived “ordinary usage” of the word ‘individual,’ noting that “no one, we hazard to guess, refers in normal parlance to an organization as an ‘individual.’”

Although Mohamad may be a heavily formalistic opinion, it is a hard to disagree with its conclusions. Given then TVPA’s structure, there just isn’t much need, or room, for nuance. Justice Breyer, in the decision’s the only concurring opinion, did make a mild qualification of his decision, noting that the TVPA’s use of the specific word “individual” is insufficiently determinative by itself to justify a limitation on liability to natural persons. Breyer quickly moves to conclude, however, that the legislative history of the TVPA erases any doubt and supports the Court’s ultimate decision.

In all likelihood, then, the decision in Mohamad will not give us much insight into how the Court will handle the question of corporate liability under the Alien Tort Statute. Although Mohamad v. Palestinian Authority, et al. and Kiobel v. Royal Dutch Petroleum have strong superficial similarities — a similarity plainly acknowledged by the Court through its decision to hear arguments for both on the same day — it seems likely that the Court’s ultimate decisions in those cases will have little relevance to one another. Sotomayor’s opinion in fact openly acknowledges the two cases’ dissimilar postures, noting that the ATS “offers no comparative value here regardless of whether corporate entities can be held liable[.]“

This is because entity liability under the TVPA, as addressed in Mohamad, involves a straightforward question of statutory interpretation. Entity liability under the ATS, in contrast, involves an extremely convoluted question of statutory interpretation coupled with an equally convoluted interpretation of  the law of nations. It doesn’t matter which side of the argument you take in Kiobel — for that, you’re never going to find the answer to prove your case in the pages of a dictionary.

And the statutory interpretation element is the less important prong, in examining the question of entity liability under the ATS. As the class of defendants is not defined by the ATS, the issue of corporate liability is not determined by reference to the legislator’s choice of language, but rather by reference to either Federal common law or to international law, or, more likely still, to some admixture of both.

Ultimately, the TVPA, unlike the ATS, is an almost purely domestic instrument. Although the TVPA indirectly incorporates international law in its definition of extrajudicial killing, and, in its preamble, specifically cites that the statute’s purpose is to carry out the U.S.’s obligations under international treaties, the TVPA is simply not a creature of the law of nations.

The TVPA was specifically designed by the U.S. Congress to accomplish certain specified domestic goals. If instead the TVPA had been drawn directly from international instruments, however, it seems very likely that a different conclusion would have been reached in Mohamad. In particular, Article 14 of the UN Convention Against Torture (“the CAT”) would seem to lobby in favor of vicarious liability in civil claims brought by torture victims:

 ”Each State Party shall ensure in its legal system that the victim of an act of torture obtains redress and has an enforceable right to fair and adequate compensation, including the means for as full rehabilitation as possible.”

The CAT’s specification that states are to implement civil claims that provide for “an enforceable right to fair and adequate compensation” suggests that the CAT is concerned not simply with imposing punitive, quasi-criminal measures against torturers, but rather with implementation of an effective means for torture victims to be compensated for their injuries. A system of vicarious liability for torture is therefore more consistent with goals of the CAT as expressed in Article 14, as this would increase the likelihood of full reparations being made to torture victims. This is because vicarious liability is specifically geared towards making tort victims whole, whereas a system of pure individual liability emphasizes concern at seeing a wrong-doer punished.

Instead of incorporating this broad goal of repairing torture victims to the fullest extent possible, as articulated by the CAT, the U.S. Congress made plain its desire to see that only morally culpable wrong-doers were to be held financially culpable under the TVPA. This same legislative background is nonexistent when it comes to the ATS, however, making the Court’s analysis in Mohamad irrelevant to their ultimate determination of the similar question posed by Kiobel.

-Susan

Is There an Easy Jurisdictional Answer to Kiobel? (Nope.)

Professors Brad Clark and Anthony Bellia have again offered some thoughts on the Alien Tort Statute in advance of the Supreme Court’s arguments in Kiobel. This time, in a short essay to be published in the Georgetown Journal of International Law, the professors suggest that alien-on-alien torts are not covered by the Alien Tort Statute. If this turns out to be true, the professors reason that only U.S. corporate defendants could face suit; such suits wouldn’t need to rely on the ATS because they would likely meet the requirements of diversity jurisdiction. Thus, the issue of corporate liability under the ATS would largely be a moot point.

The professors’ argument is a nifty one, but I think it rests on the faulty premise that the ATS was “originally intended” to cover only suits by aliens against U.S. citizens. The professors distinguish between a tortious act of a U.S. citizen (which they say could be imputed to the United States if it were left unredressed) and a tortious act of an alien (which supposedly “was not directly imputed to the United States under the law of nations if the United States failed to redress it.”)

Of course, the professors’ approach ignores Susan’s excellent discussion of how the original impetus for the ATS might have been an alien-on-alien crime in the United States.

But perhaps more importantly, it ignores the fact that nations have certain obligations related to the acts of persons other than their own citizens. It’s not a simple matter of imputation. In the criminal context, for instance, nations have an obligation not to shield a wrongdoer (whatever his citizenship) who is justly sought by another country. It might be said that the duty arises from the obligation of the “refuge” state to provide a means for the requesting state to vindicate its own interests. Likewise, in the tort context, Nation A has an obligation to provide redress for an injury to a citizen of Nation B because, absent such redress, the wrongdoer might avoid penalty by using Nation A as a (personal) jurisdictional shield. Acting as a shield might then provoke Nation B, who under well-understood principles of diplomatic protection might then take action against Nation A.  Indeed, one authority suggests that “the assault or wrongful treatment of foreigners was one of the major reasons for the incitement of war,” regardless of the nationality of the offender.

The Marbois Incident, which Susan posits led to the ATS in the first place, is actually an excellent example of this idea in practice. When one Frenchman committed a violation of the law of nations against another Frenchman, France obviously had no grounds to be angry towards the United States based on any theory of “imputation.” Rather, France took issue with the United States’ independent failure to provide a remedy; America’s interests were “stand[ing] in the way of French justice.” (To be fair, the perpetrator in the Marbois incident was nominally an American, but it was well-understood that the citizenship was pretextual.)

As Professor William Dodge has also noted, Congress first reacted to the Marbois incident (and another minor incident involving a New York police officer) by recommending to the states that they provide for punishment of violations of the law of nations. This resolution had two critical elements: (a) allowing torts suits to be brought by the alien for the breach of a treaty or international law; and (b) an indemnification provision for harm to the United States caused by the breach. Interestingly, while the indemnification provision applied only to acts committed by United States citizens, there is no similar limitation as to the tort suit portion. Thus, early Congresses seemed to anticipate that any defendant could face liability for a violation of the law of nations.

Let’s also not forget the plain text of the ATS. While the Act obviously provides for an alien plaintiff, it does not define the relevant class of defendants. Complementary state laws, such as one in Connecticut, did indeed define the defendant class, but they defined it broadly: any person whatsoever.

In sum, while I can appreciate the efforts of Professors Clark and Bellia, I think they err in reviving this long dead argument (which Curtis Bradley seems to have been making for some time now).  The puzzle of Kiobel cannot be so easily solved.

-Michael

*The Professors also bring back the old argument that Article III does not anticipate any independent jurisdiction of courts to enforce the law of nations.  I think that point has already been well-addressed before, so I choose not to rehash it here.  A quick read of Filartiga should suffice to address that concern.  See Filartiga v. Pena-Irala, 630 F.2d 876, 885-87 (2d Cir. 1980).

[H/T: Volokh]

Study Abroad: Why Accrediting Foreign Law Schools Might Save the U.S. Legal Market

A recent article in Foreign Policy touts the benefits of an education abroad. It’s cheap! It’s less competitive! U.S. students can learn a language! The teaching environment is better! All these great benefits are available to any enterprising undergraduate who’s willing to move a bit farther from mom and dad than most. It sounds like a deal that’s too good to be true.

That deal isn’t available to law students. That’s because admission to most state bars require potential attorneys to graduate from a law school accredited by the American Bar Association. And the ABA doesn’t accredit foreign law schools. So that’s that. (Well, except for those Americans that go to another country for law school and simply stay in that country after graduation.)

But should that really be the end of the story? Putting aside all the fluffy nonsense about the “increasing globalization” of law, foreign law schools present a possible solution to two perceived problems in the legal market right now: (1) the lack of attorneys for under-served (read: poor) populations and (2) the high cost of law school in general. Of course, these problems are related: students carrying high debt loads out of law school simply can’t afford to move to Barrow and set up shop.

The ABA has considered and declined to accredit foreign law schools one time before. Reading between the lines, the earlier refusal seemed to have stemmed from a fear that foreign lawyers would flood the market.

Yet that concern seems inconsistent with the ABA’s willingness to accept American law schools of all shapes and sizes, with seemingly no concern for “flooding the market.” And interestingly, neither the commenters nor the ABA seemed to focus on American students going abroad to receive their degree. Instead, the jingoistic fear was that foreign students would go to foreign schools and then come to America. Why don’t we want to open a door for our own students to enjoy a legal education while immersed in a different culture?

What’s more, for American law students, a good number of foreign law schools should have the advantage over the newbie American ones, given that foreign law schools often have well-established pedigrees and strong institutional support. Contrast that with the lower-tier American institutions that struggle to get by. Wouldn’t we rather have new lawyers coming out of UCL Law or McGill Law than University of North Texas at Dallas School of Law? Can’t we all concede that there are several Australian schools that could instantly produce some of the best international lawyers in the States? As a bonus, accrediting foreign law schools might result in more lawyers for a very particular under-served community: immigrants.

Some worry that allowing foreign entry into the ABA could result in a general decline in the quality of legal education. Such a concern could be easily addressed by requiring the ABA  to impose the same strict standards for accreditation on foreign schools as it does on domestic ones. If no foreign school passed muster, so be it.

In sum, why aren’t we giving this a closer look? What is the ABA afraid of? A cheaper, more interesting learning experience shouldn’t be limited to the wandering undergrad. It’s time for law students to get their shot, too.

-Michael

Why Kiobel Might Matter In This Year’s Election

Update (again): Guess I’m not crazy.  Check out this recent article in Supreme Court Insider titled, “Will alien tort case be next Citizens United?”

Update: Our friends over at the Alien Tort Claims Act Blog don’t agree that Kiobel could amount to anything in the next election, calling it something that might show up in ”hour three of Rush Limbaugh’s show” at best. That’s probably fair; this post was meant to be somewhat tongue-in-cheek and I didn’t mean to overstate the case’s significance. Still, it’s possible you might see some discussion of this for a few days in June when the opinion comes out. It won’t drive the election (by any means) but it might provide an interesting talking point for one news cycle.


Right now, the only people excited about the upcoming Supreme Court argument (and ultimate decision) in Kiobel v. Royal Dutch Petroleum are international law nerds. At first glance, the case presents issues only a mother scholar could love:

(1) Whether the issue of corporate civil tort liability under the Alien Tort Statute, 28 U.S.C. § 1350, is a merits question or instead an issue of subject matter jurisdiction; and (2) whether corporations are immune from tort liability for violations of the law of nations such as torture, extrajudicial executions or genocide may instead be sued in the same manner as any other private party defendant under the ATS for such egregious violations.

But even though that sounds extraordinarily technical, the facts of the case actually might provide fodder for some explosive campaign rhetoric.

At bottom, Kiobel could be thought to confront two fundamental issues: (1) the rights of aliens to enjoy certain protections in U.S. courts; and (2) the accountability of corporations for acts that caused injury. Those issues touch upon some raw feelings, driven by xenophobia, anti-corporatism, and general distrust of the Supreme Court. Either way the case goes, it’s likely to stir intense political feelings:

  • If the court rules that corporations may not be held liable under the Alien Tort Statute, we’re likely to see a mini-replay of the Citizens United furor. The decision would fit neatly into the narrative that the Roberts court cares more about the interests of corporations than individuals. I can already imagine President Obama giving a speech about the Court’s unwillingness to place limits on the acts of corporations, whether those limits come in the form of campaign spending law, basic human rights laws, or otherwise.
  • If the court rules that corporations may be held liable under the Alien Tort Statute, then Republicans could use this case as another example of how “those people” (i.e., aliens, foreigners, what have you) have too many rights in this country. Launching into his best “they-terk-er-jerbs” speech, the Republican candidate could use Kiobel to condemn how the government has become more interested in protecting the interests of foreign citizens, rather than protecting the interests of small business owners, family farmers, apple pie bakers, etc. Then again, Arizona v. United States might provide a better platform for anti-immigrant rants than Kiobel.
  • If the court simply punts and says that the Alien Tort Statute does not apply extraterritorially, I don’t think anybody will care. Some people will scream about judicial activism, others will applaud the court’s judicial restraint. For its part, the Alien Tort Statute will be dead, squashed like a roach under the jackboot of judicial fuddyduddyness.

Personally, I think it’d be kind of nice to see candidates sparring on things of substance (like Kiobel) rather than spitting the same ‘ole sound bites. But that’s probably too much to ask for.

-Michael

Ecopiracy in the Contiguous Zone

It’s been a relatively exciting week for international law of the sea. Not only has Iran been demonstrating the importance of territorial seas, why straight baseline measurements matter and when they are appropriate, and the differences between transit and innocent passage, but now three Australians are helping to illustrate the concept of contiguous zones, thanks to their unauthorized boarding of a Japanese whaling support ship:

The so-called “Sea Shepherd” activists — Geoffrey Tuxworth, Simon Peterffy and Glen Pendlebury — boarded the Japanese whaling vessel Shonan Maru II early Sunday morning off the southwest coast of western Australia.

….

The three men are members of an Australian environmental organization called Forest Rescue Australia and their mission was designed to prevent the Japanese whaler from tailing an anti-whaling flagship belonging to the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society.

Because this all took place about 16 miles off of the Australian coast, the men boarded the ship and were apprehended by the Japanese vessel within Australia’s contiguous zone. There now seems to be a dispute between the Sea Shepherd organization and the Australian government over the significance of this fact — with the Sea Shepherds believing, while the Australian government is stuck in the position of awkwardly noting that the three men who boarded the vessel are subject only to Japanese laws.

Although the Australian government did eventually work through diplomatic channels to arrange for the release of the three activists, its position was that Australia had no particular claims to jurisdiction over the incident, beyond the fact it involved Australian citizens:

[Federal Attorney-General Nicola Roxon] said consular officials were attempting to contact the men, and the Government’s priority was to ensure their safety and well-being, and return to Australia.
“It is a difficult situation. This incident happened outside our territorial waters, in our exclusive economic zone,” she said.
“But that doesn’t give us rights for Australian law to automatically apply.
“In fact, our advice is that Japanese law will apply because a Japanese boat is the one that’s been boarded.”

The Sea Shepherds do not agree with the Gillard Government’s view:

Capt [Paul] Watson said he had not expected the men to be taken to Japan and charged.

“Considering it was within the 24 miles contiguous zone, which is where the Australian immigration and Customs has absolute authority, we didn’t think the Australian government would allow the Japanese to take Australian citizens out of that area.”

He accused Attorney-General Nicola Roxon of “not doing her homework”, adding the vessel was only 16 miles off the beach.

“This is not some ordinary boat that was boarded, this is a criminal boat supporting a criminal operation.”

Unfortunately for the Sea Shepherds, however, their interpretation of international law is a bit misguided. The contiguous zone’s actual significance is pretty negligible in most contexts, and completely negligible here. The contiguous zone is the band of ocean territory just beyond a nation’s territorial waters, and overlapping with its EEZ. States are permitted to extend this zone up to 24 miles from their coast; this means, in the typical circumstance, a nation’s contiguous zone is a 12 mile band that begins 12 miles out at sea, where the state’s territorial sea ends.

Under Article 33 of UNCLOS,

1. In a zone contiguous to its territorial sea, described as the contiguous zone, the coastal State may exercise the control necessary to:

(a) prevent infringement of its customs, fiscal, immigration or sanitary laws and regulations within its territory or territorial sea;

(b) punish infringement of the above laws and regulations committed within its territory or territorial sea.

2. The contiguous zone may not extend beyond 24 nautical miles from the baselines from which the breadth of the territorial sea is measured.

And that is pretty much the extent of the contiguous zone’s importance, when it comes to a coastal state’s jurisdiction over foreign ships. Moreover, as the Shonan Maru II is not itself a whaling ship or a research ship — it’s basically a bodyguard for the whaling ships, engaged in counter-harassment measures against the Sea Shepherds — it was not even taking any actions which could have subjected it to Australian regulations at the time the Forest Rescue men boarded it. As for Australian criminal laws (even presuming that the Japanese could possibly have committed any violations), such laws are only enforceable in the contiguous zone to the extent that the enforcement was related to violations that occurred or were about to occur within Australia’s territorial sea. Here, all of the events concerned took place outside of territorial waters, and so Australia’s extended enforcement jurisdiction is inapplicable.

As such, if any criminal acts occurred with regard to the boarding of the Shonan Maru, the crimes were probably committed by the Forest Rescue activists rather than the Japanese whalers. In fact, an argument can even be made that, by forcibly boarding a Japanese vessel outside of Australian territorial waters with the intent of detaining it, or at least of diverting its course, the activists were engaging in an act of piracy, pursuant to UNCLOS Article 101. Although the Japanese whalers are hardly innocent when it comes to breaches of international law, in this case, it is the Sea Shepherds that are in the wrong.

-Susan

Is the Strait of Hormuz Governed by Treaty or by Customary International Law?

The Strait of Hormuz, as news articles in recent weeks have repeatedly stressed, is kind of a big deal when it comes to the global oil trade. The Strait, which is a mere 20 miles across at its narrowest point, connects the Persian Gulf and the Gulf of Oman — and also connects the rest of the world with 40% of its daily oil tanker traffic.

Which is why Iran’s recently renewed threats to close down trade through the Strait of Hormuz are risky for all concerned. Risky for the rest of the world, because any disruption would contain a severe economic toll. And risky for Iran, because if it ever actually did attempt to shut down the Strait, it would intensely piss off literally the entire world. So, while Iran periodically makes noises about taking such a move, the odds of it actually carrying out on its threats are minimal. Nevertheless, given the costs involved, the risk, however small, is taken extremely seriously by the rest of the world.

But ignoring the reality of the situation for a moment, and pretending as if international law actually possessed the power to effect state’s actions in the Gulf, would Iran actually have the legal right to carry out any of its threats?

For once, international law has a straightforward answer: no. Any attempt by Iran to close the Strait of Hormuz would be unambiguously illegal; the shipping lanes through the Strait of Hormuz, as laid out by the International Maritime Organization, lay within the territorial sea of Oman. Although the 12-mile territorial seas of Iran and Oman overlap at the narrowest points of the Strait, the deepest waters — and thus the shipping channels — lay to the south, within Oman’s territorial waters. As such, any military action by Iran to shut down shipping through Hormuz would inevitably impinge on Oman’s sovereign rights.

But Iran’s legal rights over the Strait of Hormuz vis-à-vis the rest of the world, and ignoring Oman’s sovereignty concerns, are a slightly more complicated question, although even there Iran’s claims are tenuous. The precise extent of Iran’s legal authority, however, differs based upon whether one applies the doctrine of innocent passage or transit passage to the Strait.

Both doctrines concern the passage of ships (as well as planes) through a nation’s territorial sea, which extends up to 12 miles from a state’s coast. The doctrine of innocent passage, which bears a greater claim to customary international law status, applies throughout all the territorial seas of the world. The concept of transit passage, in contrast, applies solely to those sections of territorial seas provide an exclusive link between two larger bodies of waters — i.e., straits.

The right of innocent passage, laid out in Articles 17 – 26 of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (“UNCLOS”), protects the right of ships in transit to pass through another nation’s territorial sea, subject to certain regulations that may be imposed by the sovereign. Passage is considered innocent “so long as it is not prejudicial to the peace, good order or security of the coastal State.” Innocent passage, however, can be subject to certain conditions imposed by the sovereign state, and may in fact be suspended temporarily in times of emergency.

In contrast, transit passage, which is regulated by Articles 37 – 44 of UNCLOS, is nonsuspendable, and not limited to innocent passage. The conditions that may be imposed by sovereign states are limited, and not subject to any real teeth. So long as a ship is not engaged in any nontransit activities and complying with certain traffic and safety measures, coastal States must permit ships to pass through their territorial seas.

So if the Strait of Hormuz is governed by transit passage, Iran’s legal ability to take any action to impede transport through the strait, even against an unfriendly foreign nation’s warships, is more or less nil. If, on the other hand, the regime of innocent passage applies, Iran has a fair bit more wiggle room to work with. Particularly in a situation where hostilities are shading towards war and the use of force, where a coastal state’s territorial waters governed by a regime of innocent passage, that state has a non-negligible claim to a right to enforce extensive regulatory control over the area, up to and including an ongoing suspension of all transit rights.

The question then is whether the Strait of Hormuz is subject to transit passage or not. Textually, it would seem clear that the Strait of Hormuz falls with Article 37′s scope, as it is a “strait[] which [is] used for international navigation between one part of the high seas or an exclusive economic zone and another part of the high seas or an exclusive economic zone.” Thus, under UNCLOS’s text, a strait like the Strait of Hormuz — which connects the Persian Gulf’s EEZ to the Strait of Oman’s EEZ, as well as the high seas beyond — is subject to transit passage. So why doesn’t that settle the question for good as to what transit regime applies here?

Well, for one, neither the U.S. nor Iran have ever actually gotten around to ratifying UNCLOS. Since neither state has ever entered the treaty, its terms can only apply if the terms are also obligatory under customary international law. And there, opinions differ, with no few authorities holding that the general right of transit passage has yet to be established outside of treaty-conferred obligations.

On the other side of that argument is the United States, which, despite its somewhat contentious and complicated relationship with UNCLOS, has long held that the bulk of UNCLOS’s provisions are merely a codification of customary international law. This includes UNCLOS’s provisions regarding transit passage, as U.S. authorities have repeatedly asserted these norms to be a component of CIL:

…the United States…particularly rejects the assertions that the…right of transit passage through straits used for international navigation, as articulated in the [LOS] Convention, are contractual rights and not codification of existing customs or established usage. The regimes of…transit passage, as reflected in the Convention, are clearly based on customary practice of long standing and reflects the balance of rights and interests among all States, regardless of whether they have signed or ratified the Convention… (Diplomatic Note of August 17, 1987, to the Democratic and Popular Republic of Algeria (intermediary for Iran)).

And,

…the regime [of transit passage] applies not only in or over the waters overlapped by territorial seas but also throughout the strait and in its approaches, including areas of the territorial sea that are overlapped. The Strait of Hormuz provides a case in point: although the area of overlap of the territorial seas of Iran and Oman is relatively small, the regime of transit passage applies throughout the strait as well as in its approaches including areas of the Omani and Iranian territorial seas not overlapped by the other. (Navy JAG, telegram 061630Z June 1998).

In contrast, Iran has consistently maintained the opposite view, holding that transit passage only exists among states that have agreed to submit to that regime via ratification of an international agreement. Although Iran has not ratified UNCLOS, it has signed the convention, and with its signature it submitted the following declaration:

Notwithstanding the intended character of the Convention being one of general application and of law making nature, certain of its provisions are merely product of quid pro quo which do not necessarily purport to codify the existing customs or established usage (practice) regarded as having an obligatory character. Therefore, it seems natural and in harmony with article 34 of the 1969 Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, that only states parties to the Law of the Sea Convention shall be entitled to benefit from the contractual rights created therein.

In other words, Iran viewed Article 38 of UNCLOS, concerning the right of transit passage through straits used for international navigation, to be an exclusively treaty-based obligation, and not one of customary international law. As Iran never got around to ratifying UNCLOS, the implication would be that Iran does not in fact believe itself to have acceded to any such treaty obligation. This position has been confirmed by numerous assertions by Iranian officials in the decades prior to and since UNCLOS’s entry into force.

Iran is not alone in this belief about transit passage’s status under international law, either. Oman, motivated by a similar interest in the Strait of Hormuz, also filed a declaration along with both its signature to and ratification of UNCLOS, which questioned the CIL status of transit passage, and also suggested that Oman did not intend to adopt the obligations of transit passage conferred by treaty, either. Its ratification statement indicated that it only recognized and agreed to compliance with provisions concerning the regime of innocent passage — and not that of transit passage. As such, Oman’s ratification was subject to the condition that “innocent passage is guaranteed to warships through Omani territorial waters, subject to prior permission.”

Although these declarations have never actually been enforced or acted upon by either Oman or Iran, making the bulk of state practice with regards to the Strait of Hormuz to be in conformity with the existence of transit passage through the Strait, it does not appear that either coastal state believes itself to be legally bound by a customary international law of transit passage, either. Moreover, state practice and opinio juris elsewhere in the world likewise fails to unambiguously confirm the existence of a customary international law of transit passage. As such, it cannot be automatically assumed that Iran does not possess a right to limit transit through the Strait of Hormuz, at least to the extent permitted by the regime of innocent passage.

While the practical effect of transit passage’s precise status under international law will likely (definitely) be minimal in shaping events in the Persian Gulf in the days and weeks to come, parties on both sides of the dispute will be likely to invoke the application of international law in their rhetoric, as they seek to imbue their military actions with the color of law. Still, as the Strait of Hormuz does not belong to Iran alone, and Iran’s sovereign claims over the Strait are limited by Oman’s own claims to its territorial seas, any action taken by Iran to close the entirety of the Strait will necessarily be an act of force prohibited by the UN Charter, and unquestionably a violation of international law.

-Susan

Law Professors Ask Ninth Circuit to Nullify the Alien Tort Statute?

A group of law professors–in conjunction with the National Association of Manufacturers–recently filed an amicus brief in a Ninth Circuit corporate liability ATS case, Doe v. Nestle. The law professors make the standard arguments that (a) there is no well-established customary international law governing aiding-and-abetting liability; and (b) there is no well-established customary international law providing for corporate liability.  Earlier posts from Susan and me have pretty much beat these topics to death, so there’s no need to rehash all that here.

What I find more interesting is the professors’ third argument: that “principles of federal common law” would bar Plaintiffs’ claims. The argument is interesting because, if taken to its logical limits, it would effectively nullify the Alien Tort Statute (or, at the very least, freeze the law of the ATS in its present state).  The law professors chiefly rely on two principles: (1) that federal courts should avoid implying private causes of action; and (2) judicial interference in matters of international law and foreign policy is inappropriate (and better left to Congress).

First, the law professors are mistaken in suggesting that ATS courts should not permit corporate liability claims because to do so would inappropriately imply a private cause of action.  It’s important to recognize here that the cause of action could only be “implied” from international law itself, not from the ATS.  (This must be so given the Sosa court’s admonition that the ATS is merely a jurisdictional statute that does not itself provide a cause for relief.)  Even in the best case, “implying” a private cause of action from international law would be an exceptionally difficult task, especially compared to implying rights from Congressional statutes: while Congress could be expected to speak clearly and directly if it wished to make a private right, international law does not speak with the same specificity.  Cf. Sosa v. Alvarez-Machain, 542 U.S. 692, 727 (2004) (“[T]he absence of congressional action addressing private rights of action under an international norm is more equivocal than its failure to provide such a right when it creates a statute.”). In other words, an ATS court is not faced with the same task of limiting itself to a given set of words (that is, the statute), but would be “implying” things from a much more amorphous and abstract body of international norms and principles.

The deeper problem with treating ATS liability as an issue of “implication” in the usual sense is that it would be hard to find a single rule of international law that would meet the law professors’ test.  I cannot think of a single international rule of law that contemplated individual enforcement, including the infamous Blackstone Three. (“The principal offenses against the law of nations, animadverted on as such by the municipal laws of England, are of three kinds: 1. Violation of safeconducts; 2. Infringement of the rights of embassadors; and, 3. Piracy.”). Taking the law professors’ approach would strip out any conceivable claim for relief.

The simpler approach is to recognize the context in which this statute arose.  The phrase “cause of action” didn’t come about until the late 1840s, several decades after the ATS was passed in the late 1700s.  Instead, early law simply assumed that a violation of a legal principle to the detriment of a party provided that party a right to relief. See, e.g.Tex. & Pac. R. Co. v. Rigsby, 241 U.S. 33, 39 (1916) (“A disregard of the command of the statute is a wrongful act, and where it results in damage to one of the class for whose especial benefit the statute was enacted, the right to recover the damages from the party in default is implied, according to a doctrine of the common law.”). As such, Congress likely assumed that any specific, identifiable international law norm could create a private remedy for a harmed individual.

Second, the law professors make a related argument that courts must be cautious in interfering with foreign affairs (a domain typically controlled by the executive and the legislature).  They suggest that federal common law is ordinarily used to restrain courts in international affairs.  And they note that Congress has enacted more “specific” remedies (such as the Torture Victims Protection Act) for violations of international law, such that courts should hesitate to act beyond those specific statutory instruments.

The fact that the law professors would cite the TVPA as support for their position is galling. Congress only acted to pass the TVPA after an opinion by Judge Bork strongly endorsed the positions taken by these law professors and seemed to gut the ATS.  See Tel-Oren v. Libyan Arab Repub., 726 F.2d 774, 798 (D.C. Cir. 1984) (Bork, J, concurring).  In response, Congress–which had apparently assumed previously that courts understood what the ATS said–passed the TVPA to “reinforce” and “clarify” that extrajudicial killing and torture (the specific acts at issue in Tel-Oren) were undeniably actionable.

No, the fact that the ATS refers to the law of nations suggests that courts were never expected to wait for Congress to act (again). Certainly, some amount of caution should be taken in condemning the acts of another nation. But caution must be distinguished from paralysis. Virtually every ATS case involves some foreign interest; refusing to act when such interests are involved would write the ATS out of the code books. As the Supreme Court indicated more than 100 years ago, courts must not flee from a case upon any appearance by the scary specter of international law or matters of “foreign relations”:

International law, in its widest and most comprehensive sense — including not only questions of right between nations, governed by what has been appropriately called the law of nations; but also questions arising under what is usually called private international law, or the conflict of laws, and concerning the rights of persons within the territory and dominion of one nation, by reason of acts, private or public, done within the dominions of another nation — is part of our law, and must be ascertained and administered by the courts of justice, as often as such questions are presented in litigation between man and man, duly submitted to their determination.

Hilton v. Guyot, 159 U.S. 113, 163 (1895); see also Michael Tigar, Judicial Power, The “Political Question Doctrine,” and Foreign Relations, 17 UCLA L. Rev. 1135, 1178 (1970) (“In reality, if one examines the case law and history of judicial review [of matters involving foreign policy], deference has been a burden-shifting and burden-building device. … To refer to an absolute refusal to decide, grounded in no explicit congressional command, as ‘deference’ is to misdescribe what is in fact to surrender.”).

-Michael

Updated: Fourth Circuit Butchers International Law and the Alien Tort Statute

Susan is really the expert on the Alien Tort Statute, so I hesitate to venture into that area. But the Fourth Circuit issued an opinion today that seems to misunderstand basic principles of international law, so I can’t just let it go. In Aziz v. Alcolac, the Fourth Circuit tackled the familar question of whether an aiding-and-abetting claim may be brought under the ATS. The court agreed that such a claim could be brought, but applied the specific mens rea requirement from the Rome Statute to any such claim (as opposed the more general “knowledege” requirement cited in other international law contexts).

The Fourth Circuit takes a truly bizarre path to relying on the Rome Statute. The court correctly recognizes that the “law of nations” can be drawn from international agreements (i.e. treaties), customary international law, and general principles of law common to civilized systems of law. But then the opinion breaks down, fashioning a principle of international law that doesn’t really use any of the above three sources.

The court ostensibly relies on the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court to define the reach of aiding and abetting liability.  The treaty could useful evidence of customary international law, as treaties often are. Indeed, the United States apparently considers the Statute to be a reflection of binding international law. But the Fourth Circuit refuses to take that approach, concluding that the Rome Statute is “properly viewed in the nature of a treaty and not as customary international law.” The court apparently never considers the notion that treaties and customary international law can and often do overlap.

Instead, the Fourth Circuit just declares that the Rome Statute provides a nice standard because “its status as a treaty cuts in favor of accepting its mens rea standard as authoritative for purposes of ATS aiding and abetting liability.” The court points out that lots of nations have signed the Rome Statute, even if Iraq (where all the action in Aziz happened) and the United States haven’t. Well, that’s great, but doesn’t that go to whether or not the Rome Statute reflects customary international law, the very question the Fourth Circuit said it had already answered? I simply don’t understand how a treaty not signed by the relevant nations and not applicable to those nations as customary international law can nevertheless provide binding principles of law for those nations’ citizens. See VCLT art. 34 (“A treaty does not create either obligations or rights for a third State without its consent.”).

It looks like what’s really behind the Fourth Circuit’s adoption of the Rome Statute standard is the court’s uneasiness with the indefiniteness of customary international law.  The decision talks a lot about how customary international law is difficult to define and of “soft” character. This whole discussion indicates one of two things: (a) the Fourth Circuit was unwilling to do the hard work of doing the international law research and legwork necessary to determine what the relevant customary international law standards are; or (b) the standards really are hopelessly indeterminate, in which case this is not a norm that is “sufficiently definite” to be actionable under the ATS.  See Sosa v. Alvarez-Marchain, 542 U.S. 692, 732 (2004). Either way, this opinion merits a big thumbs down.

Maybe Susan will explain why I’m wrong, but for now I’m convinced that this was a bad decision.

-Michael

Update (Sept. 22): This post over at Opinio Juris confirms that others are reading this opinion the same way I am.

Did Cheney Accidentally Admit That The Iraq War Violated International Law?

Over at Jonathan Turley’s blog, a guest blogger named Lawrence Rafferty is parroting a pretty bold claim made by former AP and Newsweek reporter Robert Parry: that Vice President Dick Cheney accidentally admitted in his new book that the Bush administration violated international law in launching the war in Iraq. Cheney’s book, titled In My Time, mentions that President Bush sought a “second resolution” from the U.N. Security Council to justify the war in Iraq, but wasn’t able to get it.  According to Cheney, the administration eventually “pulled … down” the proposed second resolution and proceeded to attack Iraq without it.

Parry and Rafferty see this account as a tacit admission of illegality because (1) ”approval from the Security Council is a prerequisite under international law for giving legitimacy to an invasion,” and (2) Cheney’s story makes clear that the United States had no such approval at the time it sought the second resolution.  Both steps in this line of reasoning, however, are wrong.  Both authors exaggerate the import of Cheney’s statements.

Continue reading

Warning

NewsOK (via the ABA Journal) reports that University of Tulsa law school dean Janet Levit was on the verge of a nomination to the U.S. Court of Appeals for the the Tenth Circuit.  Unfortunately for her, the nomination was scuttled when Sen. Tom Coburn (R-OK) expressed concern over Levit’s “background” in international law. There is nothing in the article (or anywhere else) indicating that Levit believes international law should be actively employed in domestic cases. No, Coburn apparently quashed the nomination only because her academic specialty is international law and she is a member of that liberal-commie-pinko organization, the American Society for International Law.

So, if you study or work on international law issues, please know that your troubling interest will forever bar you from becoming a federal judge.  At least in Oklahoma.

-Michael