The practice of Arab women voluntarily renouncing their shares in the family inheritance is well known, having been noticed in several Mediterranean and African countries, including Israel and the West Bank. This practice seems grossly inegalitarian, reflecting many Muslim women's social and economic inferiority and their dependent status. Some Islamic feminists argue that the practice contradicts not only the letter of the sharia, which guarantees women shares in the family inheritance, but also fundamental Islamic principles. Conservatives, however, see the practice as cohering with the spirit of Islam (though not with the letter of sharia), as a voluntary choice by many Muslim women to let their brothers or husbands fulfil their traditional role of providing for their sisters or wives. International institutions concerned with enhancing gender equality have taken the latter view seriously enough to refrain from judging the practice negatively. Our article highlights the Israeli civil courts' diverse responses to the practice: some judges criticise it while others choose a policy of non-interference. The article further discusses the practice and Israeli civil courts' responses in the comparative perspective of Jewish women's practice of renouncing their property and other rights on divorce. Some Jewish husbands make such renunciation a condition of their dissolving the marriage. Israeli civil courts often see such renunciation as an effect of extortion and permit women to rescind it once divorced. We thus conclude with a plea to the civil courts to encourage gender equality among the Arab population to the same extent, at least, to which they promote it among Israel's Jews.

Aiming to ensure a responsive and socially relevant approach to court cases, judiciaries have initiated innovative projects, such as problem-solving community courts, over the last three decades. In this socio-legal case study, I analyse the legal transplantation of a community court from the US to the Netherlands. Drawing on eighteen months of ethnographic field work (interviews, observations and file research), the study shows that, during the transplantation process, the goal of serving the neighbourhood receded into the background, while the goal of solving the problems of defendants gained even more prominence than it already had at the inception of the court. The conditions that have played a role in the path that the court has carved out to legitimise its activities differ from its American counterparts. The adjustments signify important internal legal cultural differences and illustrates how the implementation process is formed by opinions about the proper role of judges.

After outlining his experience in the world of bioethics, the author draws on his role in the UNESCO International Bioethics Committee to explain the new Universal Declaration of Bioethics, adopted by UNESCO in 2005. He describes it as the first global attempt to reconcile the differing sources of bioethical principles: health-care practice and experience and universal human rights. Whilst collecting, and accepting, some criticism of the text of the Declaration, the author sees its chief values as lying in the wider ethical issues that it reflected of concern to the community, the world and biosphere as well as in the adjustment of health-care approaches for consistency with the growing impact of universal human rights law. Whilst acknowledging the differing social experiences of people in different regions of the world, he invokes Amartya Sen to cast doubt on the notion of specific ‘Asian values’, whether in bioethics or human rights.

The law of the city degrades time to the dimension of space. The cityscape replaces a horizon made by woods, fields and streams with a jagged silhouette of rectilinear buildings, lots and thoroughfares. Geometrically speaking, a city street is a line that has been transected into segments called blocks. Blocks, in turn, are further segmented by the placement of individual buildings, which are enumerated as ‘addresses’ in the manner of sequenced moments on the universal timeline. The city, like the law, is produced by human hands according to the logic of the conceptual pairs which the idea of linear time makes possible: ‘cause and caused’, ‘ground and grounded’ and ‘means and end’. But there is something profoundly unreal about both of these institutional spaces: at the end of the day, the Unreal City mentioned in T. S. Eliot’s The Waste Land corresponds to a sort of Unreal Law. Both the city and the law manifest freedom’s impossible attempt to realise its own antithesis by substituting space for time, being for becoming, reason for chance, justification for responsibility and redemption for tragedy.

By browsing the website of Land Matrix, one can measure the extent of land-related large-scale investments in natural resources (LRINRs) and place it on the world map. At the time of writing, the extent of these investments covers an area equal to the surfaces of Spain and Portugal together – or, for football fans, around 60 million football pitches. These investment operations have often been saluted as instrumental to achieve the developmental needs of host countries and as the necessary private counterpart to state (and interstate) efforts aimed at (sustainable) development goals. Yet, the realities on the ground offer a scenario characterised by severe instances of displacement of indigenous or local communities and environmental disruptions. The starting point of this short essay is that these ‘externalities’ are generated through the legal construct enabling the implementation of these investment operations. As such, this contribution lies neatly in the line of research set forth in the excellent books of Kinnari Bhatt and Jennifer Lander, from the perspective of both the development culture shaping these investment operations and the private–public environment in which these are situated. The essay tries and dialogues with both components, while focusing at a metalevel on the theoretical shifts potentially geared to turn a ‘tale of exclusion’ into a ‘tale of inclusion’.

This article examines how well imported institutional models fare in their recipient sites, how far they are modified by the conditions they encounter, and which variables determine the outcomes. The analysed set of variables consists of particular actors and agencies involved in the transplant project; the strategy they choose for its implementation; and the local in terms of those who might support it and those who might oppose it. The arguments of the article are based on the findings of research carried out on social engineering projects undertaken in Russia and Bosnia. The projects consisted of the establishment of new bodies closely modelled on the UK Press Complaints Commission.

This article analyses the way in which the use of the rights to family life and to private life has evolved as a bar to the deportation of immigrants. The analysis focuses on the jurisprudence of the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR) with respect to the European Convention on Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms, which uses a rights-based framework; and of the UN Human Rights Committee (HRC) with respect to the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, which uses a status-based framework. It notes the interaction between the two bodies and the attempt in each forum to modify its normative framework to follow the other's. The article further considers the implications of each normative framework for both integrated immigrants and other immigrants.

The aim of this article is to open a new way of understanding corruption by examining its place within the law and culture of the European semi-periphery, with a focus on inter-war Romania. My intention is to operate a twofold displacement of the analysis of the anti-corruption and the status of constitutional practice in this context. First, I aim to reposition the question of political corruption within a jurisprudential and legal historical context. In this way I inquire what is the legal theoretical importance of political corruption in a post-dependency context? In other words, what can the representation of corruption entail for law, and for a particular legal historical trajectory within the European periphery. Second, I move towards exploring the context of the inter-war period as well as the discursive construction of political corruption within the law and through the fascist criticism levelled against it.