Does the rise of international arbitration signify a retreat of the State from classical adjudication? In examining this question, it is important to distinguish contract-based arbitration of individual claims against the State from arbitration pursuant to investment treaties. The former is broadly limited to the private sphere of the State's activity, whereas the latter gives arbitrators a comprehensive jurisdiction over public law. An elaboration of this distinction, and the grey area within it, demonstrates that the significance of international arbitration for juridical sovereignty is its privatization of the authority to define the very concept of the public sphere.

Article 55 of the United Nations Charter commits the member States to promote “universal respect for, and observance of, human rights and fundamental freedoms for all without distinction as to race, sex, language or religion,” recognising thus for the first time the individual as a subject of international law. This would have certainly been a very welcome step—yet we can hardly overlook the fact that very little has been done during the years since 1945, to enable the individual to enjoy this right, guaranteed by the Charter. The “Bill of Rights,” promised in 1946, is far from being completed and ripe for ratification. Rescinding a decision of its fifth session in favour of the inclusion of economic, social and cultural rights in the Draft Covenant of Human Rights, the General Assembly voted during its sixth session in favour of the drafting of two Covenants, one to guarantee civil and political rights and the other economic, social and cultural rights. The drafts of these two documents in the form they emerged from the ninth session of the UN Commission on Human Rights (April 7 to May 30, 1953) do not provide possibilities for the individual to petition an international authority in case of an alleged violation of the Covenant's provisions—in spite of the opinion expressed by the General Assembly at its third session in 1948, that “the right of petition is an essential human right.”

The rights and obligations of Parties … include a series of policies and measures aimed at protecting and promoting the diversity of cultural expressions, approaching creativity and all it implies in the context of globalization, where diverse expressions are circulated and made accessible to all via cultural goods and services.

Article 103 of the United Nations (UN) Charter stipulates that the obligations of UN Member States under the Charter prevail, in the event of a conflict, over their obligations under any other international agreement. While this important provision is often mentioned, its precise meaning remains something of a mystery. The present article tries to shed some light on the scope of this ‘supremacy clause’ by discussing, first, its operation with respect to treaties, and then by looking at its relevance to various other contractual arrangements and to customary international law.

The preamble to the Convention concerning the Protection of the World Cultural and Natural Heritage 1972 (the ‘World Heritage Convention’),1 adopted 30 years ago, testifies to the conviction of the States Parties ‘that deterioration or disappearance of any item of the cultural…heritage constitutes a harmful impoverishment of the heritage of all the nations of the world’.2 It speaks of the recognized ‘importance, for all the peoples of the world, of safeguarding this unique and irreplaceable property, to whatever people it may belong’3 and declares ‘that parts of the cultural…heritage…of outstanding interest…need to be preserved as part of the world heritage of mankind as a whole’.4

I begin by confessing a general fascination with the concept of time. I puzzle endlessly over the relationship between time and matter, and the insistence of scientists that before the Big Bang time did not exist. I grapple with the relationship between time and speed, and the fact that if we could travel at the speed of light time would not move. I seek to grasp Stephen Hawking's recent conversion to the view that, in the physical world, time may yet run in reverse. I am intrigued that our concepts of time came to Australia only with the First Fleet, for aboriginal time was cyclical rather than linear. Events could recur, dead people could live again. I find exhilarating the idea that we see at this moment, through our telescopes, stars that no longer exist. I love the objective reality of the equator and the total artificiality of the meridian, and the intention that this felicitous fiction is the place for us to see in the “real beginning” of the next century.

This article examines the controversies over and implications of the 2010 French ban on the covering of the face. It carries out an internal critique of the new law and, in a broader European context, questions its compatibility with the European Convention on Human Rights. It argues that the ban has strayed away from the confines of laïcité (the separation of State and religion in the public sphere) by encompassing activities and people who in no way emanate from the State. Far from being a flagship of a secularism—à la française—or a French way of life, the ban—it is argued—goes against entrenched French legal traditions and unduly conflates the concept of national identity at the cost of individual liberties, thus forgetting the true goal of secularism: the conciliation of different beliefs and values. Assuming that the defence of secularism is nevertheless (for reasons we will explore) upheld by the European Court of Human Rights as a legitimate aim pursued by the law, the French ban, it is argued, is likely to fall foul of European requirements for lack of proportionality.

The Third Conference of the Parties to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (Climate Change Convention) was held from 1 to 11 December 1997 at Kyoto, Japan. Significantly the States Parties to the Convention adopted a protocol (Kyoto Protocol) on 11 December 1997 under which industrialised countries have agreed to reduce their collective emissions of six greenhouse gases by at least 5 per cent by 2008–2012. Ambassador Raul Estrada-Oyuela, who had chaired the Committee of the Whole established by the Conference to facilitate the negotiation of a Protocol text, expressed the view that: “This agreement will have a real impact on the problem of greenhouse gas emissions. Today should be remembered as the Day of the Atmosphere.” This note seeks to outline in brief the science of climate change, and international activity to combat global warming prior to the Kyoto conference. It then attempts to analyse the terms of the Kyoto Protocol and to draw some conclusions on its significance.

The right of peoples to self-determination is an elusive concept. There is no clear definition of “peoples” or of what the right entails. Instead, there are numerous and at times conflicting interpretations of self-determination. The existence of these various interpretations is not merely of academic or theoretical interest. It can have considerable practical implications.

There are few more controversial questions in international law than the proper limits of the right of self-defence. The rules are being challenged in the light of what are seen as new threats from terrorism and from the possession of weapons of mass destruction. The UN High-level Panel, in its report to the Secretary-General of 2004, concluded that in all cases relating to decisions to use military force ‘we believe that the Charter of the United Nations, properly understood and applied, is equal to the task’.4 The Principles that follow are intended to provide a clear statement of the rules of international law ‘properly understood’ governing the use of force by states in self-defence.

The margin of appreciation (MoA) has become the central conceptual doctrine in the institutional and jurisprudential architecture of the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR). This article critiques the existence and operation of the MoA within the ECHR system and defends its use. It is submitted that as each of the central justifications for the MoA under the ECHR applies equally to the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), so the doctrine should be applied by the Human Rights Committee.

In 2001, the African Commission on Human and Peoples' Rights concluded consideration of a communication under Article 55 of the African Charter on Human Rights and Peoples' Rights which dealt with alleged violations of human rights of the Ogoni people in Nigeria.1 This communication is important and special, because, for the first time, the Commission was able to deal in a substantive and groundbreaking way with alleged violations of economic, social and cultural rights which formed the substance of the complaint. In addition, in dealing with the communication, the Commission took a firm and dynamic approach that may contribute to a better and more effective protection of economic, social and cultural rights in Africa. This article discusses the case before the Commission and tries to characterize the decision of the Commission as an application of recent approaches to strengthen implementation and supervision of economic, social and cultural rights.

The ‘selling arrangement’ is a judicial device which removes national law from thescrutiny of European Community law relating to the free movement of goods. National provisions affecting the marketing of products may fall for consideration as ‘selling arrangements’ where the treatment of the domestic and imported goods has been even handed. Measures relating to the substance of the goods remain subject to Community law rules on the free movement of goods. The prime example of the selling arrangement is the advertisement, but in the years since creation, other areas of national activity with respect to the free movement of goods have been enveloped inthe selling arrangement. Certain measures which have related to the conduct of business may also fall for similar treatment as selling arrangements. A recent development would appear tomean that the concept of the selling arrangement may apply where the obligation imposed by the national measure has beenidentified as being general, as opposed to specific in nature. Were this to be so, the selling arrangement would have the potential to break free of the traditional boundaries established for itunder Criminal Proceedings against Bernard Keck and Daniel Mithouard.1

The relationship between the global and the local is one of critical importance to all regions of the world. In the resolution of the tension between the irresistible surge of globalisation and the undeniable facts of society as it actually exists in the various localities which together comprise the very world which is presumably the object or the subject-matter of globalisation, law lies at the forefront. It is, one might say, the very intellectual battlefield which we have selected for the resolution of the major problem facing human society at the turn of the century. The purpose of this article is therefore to investigate, in a somewhat narrative fashion the relationship between the global and the local in the context of law in South East Asia. The topic is clearly too large to be dealt with in a short space with the rigour and articulation it really deserves, but it is hoped that the approach adopted will provide some kind of a frame of reference for regarding, studying, and hopefully improving, the law in the South East Asian region; and will perhaps focus a pencil of light on the problems of the global and the local in this particular regional context.