Hunger and food insecurity are viewed as global problems, requiring global responses. Even though there is no distinct field of ‘international food law’, many areas of international law in some way deal with issues related to global hunger and food insecurity. Hunger and food insecurity are immensely complex problems that cannot possibly be understood and addressed through an inherently limited disciplinary perspective. This article argues that food regime theory – an analytical tool developed and used mostly in the field of sociology – can provide a useful means through which to better lay bare the role of international law in constituting global food relations. If international lawyers are serious about contributing to reducing global hunger and realizing food security, it is imperative to situate international law and its specialized fields within the broader political economy of food.

This article argues that the South West Africa Cases were brought to an ignominious end because the cases were about self-determination as much as they were about apartheid. For liberals like Judge Sir Percy Spender, the President of the Court, political systems based on majority rule looked suspiciously like authoritarian regimes modelled on the Soviet Union during the Cold War. It is submitted that, given the controversy surrounding self-determination in international law, Sir Percy wanted to avoid addressing the merits of the cases. Self-determination was the proverbial ‘elephant in the court room’ that Sir Percy wanted to avoid at all costs. This article builds upon earlier archival research on the South West Africa Cases by taking a closer look at Sir Percy's role in the cases and his views on self-determination. It is argued that what ‘killed’ the cases was Sir Percy's belief that Ethiopia and Liberia were seeking to ‘legalize’ self-determination with a view to further uniting the Afro-Asian bloc at the United Nations with the Soviet Union against the West.

The drafters of the Rome Statute sought to accord human rights a central place within the legal framework of the International Criminal Court (ICC). This was done not only through numerous provisions on the rights of the accused, victims, and witnesses, but also through the inclusion of the overarching Article 21(3) of the Rome Statute. Article 21(3) Rome Statute requires that the interpretation and application of all ICC law be consistent with internationally recognized human rights. While this provision has been employed on numerous occasions to bolster human rights protection in the ICC legal framework, it is not without its limits. In a series of decisions over the past few years, ICC judges have placed limits on the protections that can be read into the ICC legal framework on the basis of Article 21(3). Beyond stating that the ICC ‘is not a human rights court’, the decisions in question articulate no clear justification for the limitations imposed on Article 21(3). The present article analyses these decisions and identifies the underlying rationale for the Court’s approach: the principle of speciality. However, the picture is further complicated by the judges’ willingness to overlook the principle of speciality when particularly serious violations of human rights are involved. This leaves the precise contours of human rights protection in the ICC legal framework undefined.

The Permanent Court of Arbitration (PCA) was established at the first Hague Peace Conference in 1899. During the past decade the PCA has progressed from a period of relative inactivity to a previously unsurpassed caseload. In this article the Secretary-General of the PCA reflects on the creation and early development of the PCA, before giving a detailed overview of recent arbitrations conducted under PCA auspices. The first part of this review, concerning treaty-based arbitration, analyses the role of the PCA in the resolution of disputes under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, illustrated by the arbitrations conducted in the Guyana/Suriname, Barbados/Trinidad, Malaysia/Singapore, and Ireland/United Kingdom (MOX Plant) disputes. The second part, which focuses on ad hoc arbitration, outlines the recently concluded arbitrations in the Iron Rhine (Belgium/Netherlands) and Eritrea/Yemen cases, as well as the work of the Eritrea–Ethiopia Boundary Commission and Claims Commission.

Indian responses to international law have now seen three generations of scholarship. A decade into its independence, India began playing its role in what has retrospectively been referred to as Third World approaches to international law (TWAIL). The early 1990s witnessed the rise of TWAIL II. Armed with interdisciplinarity and inspired by the subaltern pathology of the state in the 1970s, TWAIL II scholars barged into areas with approaches never seen before. Bhupinder Chimni alone discovered six perspectives of international law from India. My article picks up from where Professor Anand has left off and adds a seventh ‘tribal’ tale to Chimni's six. It is also argued that the category ‘Third World’ needs redefinition, as pockets of poverty are increasingly betraying geography. Indian law schools have also been evaluated vis-à-vis promotion of TWAIL. The paper covers, as comprehensively as possible, approaches and issues, direct or collateral, regarding an international law from India.

This article proposes a different theoretical account of the role of domestic courts when engaged in judicial review of decision-making by international institutions. Many domestic courts in democratic societies operate in accordance with a ‘public-law model’ when adjudicating questions related to international decision-making, underwritten by respect for doctrines such as the rule of law and separation of powers. Drawing on a case study of domestic-court decisions in the Security Council sanctions context, this article seeks to demonstrate how the public law model's focus on concepts of ‘bindingness’ and hierarchy between judicial and political organs can lead to distorted outcomes when applied to decision-making by international institutions. As an alternative, the author proposes a different theoretical account of the judicial role, described as the ‘dialogue model’, of courts when engaging in the review of Security Council decision-making. The idea is that domestic courts should confine themselves to tools of ‘interpretation’ and ‘declaration’ in their approach to international decision-making, so as to position their judgments in a more theoretically supportable way in the broader legal context.

Judge Alejandro Álvarez had already developed a theory of a ‘new international law’ when he joined the first bench of the International Court of Justice in 1946. During his time at the Court, he elucidated his theory by means of Individual or Dissenting Opinions, always stressing the importance of the Court for judicial lawmaking. The aim of this article is to present Álvarez's concept of a ‘new international law’ and to analyse some of his individual and dissenting opinions with respect to his theory, with additional emphasis on the lawmaking function of the Court as an integral part of his approach.

This is the third issue of the Periphery Series of the Leiden Journal of International Law. The first two were dedicated to the works of the Chilean jurist Alejandro Álvarez and the Nigerian international lawyer Taslim Olawale Elias – two scholars from regions conventionally cast as ‘peripheral’ to the discipline's metropolitan ‘centre’. This issue takes a somewhat different perspective by focusing on a country (or subcontinent) as a whole. Its primary questions concern the way in which Indian scholars have imagined, shaped, and reshaped international law; the manner in which India's domestic system has received international law; and the ways in which India has been projected by the international legal system.

In a small note which Peter Kooijmans wrote to me in answer to a letter in which I congratulated him with his election as Judge in the International Court of Justice – the first Netherlands Judge in the Court after World War II apart from Professor Riphagen who only served as a Judge ad hoc in the Barcelona Traction, Light and Power Company Ltd. case – he stated that he considered himself to be a privileged man. Privileged, because the new position would allow him to continue to remain active in the field of international law considerably beyond the retirement age of 65 which applies to professors of international law and most other people in The Netherlands. Privileged, I would like to add, also in another respect. Very rarely it will be given to one person in his lifetime to fulfil so many different honourable positions in the field of international law and international relations at such a high level of responsibility as has been the case with Peter Kooijmans: Professor of public international law, United Nations Special Rapporteur on Torture, State Secretary (Staatssecretaris) for Foreign Affairs, in particular disarmament matters (1973–1977), Minister for Foreign Affairs and, finally, Judge in the International Court of Justice.

This article examines the challenges surrounding the enforcement of decisions of international courts, using the Caribbean Court of Justice (CCJ) as the fulcrum of the analysis. When sitting in its original jurisdiction, the CCJ adjudicates claims arising from the Revised Treaty of Chaguaramas and the operation of the Caribbean Single Market and Economy. However, there is no clear route for the enforcement of original jurisdiction decisions. The Agreement Establishing the CCJ leaves the issue of enforcement to the states themselves, who in turn have either failed to enact enforcement legislation or have provided for enforcement to be carried out ‘in like manner’ as the decisions of domestic courts. This phraseology raises the spectre of the Crown Proceedings Act and its legislative progeny which bar the pursuit of enforcement proceedings against the state. Several solutions to this enforcement conundrum are discussed, ranging from a regional enforcement treaty, akin to the New York Convention, to enforcement at common law using the Fick case, with the merits and demerits of each examined in turn.

The institutionalization of international conflict-resolution on a third-party basis, with the creation of a Permanent Court of Arbitration, was one of the high hopes of the political leaders at the First Hague Peace Conference in 1899. In the early phase, from creation of the Court in 1902 until the outbreak of World War I in 1914, 17 cases were initiated before the Court. There was a quite understandable gap, through the War years, until 1921; and then, in the decade until 1931,7 further cases were brought before the Court. This was followed by another awkward hiatus as to cases throughout the 1930s, apparently because of the renewed international tensions in Europe that culminated in World War II. There were no cases before the Court during the War years, the seat of the Court being under belligerent occupation for most of that time. The fact remains, however, that since World War II and, indeed, since 1931, there have been only two cases (both minor ones) brought before the Court, (or three, if we accept the Court Registry's retroactive classification, in its 1990 Annual Report, of the continuing Iran-US Claims Tribunal, which had begun its work in 1981, as one of its own cases).

The Hague Peace Conference of 1899 was attended by 27 states, the Conference of 1907 by 43, the overwhelming majority being from Europe and America. Among the participants were four from Asia: China, Japan, Persia and Siam. Their delegates, trained in the best European legal and diplomatic traditions, were assisted by European experts in explaining their positions on ‘projects’ (or drafts) of European or American origin.

In the Brđanin and Krajišnik judgments, the ICTY Appeals Chamber found that the accused may incur criminal liability for crimes carried out by low-level non-joint criminal enterprise (JCE) physical perpetrators who are used as tools or are otherwise instrumentalized by JCE members other than the accused to carry out the crimes of the common plan. Similarly, the Appeals Chamber held that the accused may also incur liability for crimes of excess committed by non-JCE perpetrators. However, as for the precise nature of liability in such cases, no clarification was provided. From this ambiguity the author detects an inclination on the part of the Appeals Chamber to construe JCE not only as an expression of commission but also of complicity. The author then identifies and elaborates the theoretical difficulties that this construction would instil in the traditional doctrine of JCE as formulated by the Tadić Appeals Chamber and the international law of individual criminal responsibility. He suggests that awareness of these very problems of theory is the reason behind the conspicuous ambiguity in Brđanin and Krajišnik as to the nature of JCE liability.

In this article, the author gives an overview of the main international legal norms that are relevant to imputiny for human rights violations, and their actual implementation, in order to answer the question whether imputiny is indeed in violation of present day general international law. In this context, attention will also be given to the development towards the establishment of an international criminal tribunal.

In its judgments on the preliminary objections in the Legality of Use of Force cases, the Court held that the FRY was not a UN member in the period between 1992 and 2000. This finding is controversial, at odds with previous decisions of the Court, and has indeed attracted criticism from various judges. This article proposes a different construction of the question of the FRY's membership within the UN and reviews arguments that allow doubts to be cast on the reasoning of the Court. Because of the link between UN membership and the FRY's participation in the Genocide Convention, the Court's finding in the Legality of Use of Force cases may have some implications for two sets of proceedings still pending before the Court (Bosnia and Herzegovina v. Serbia and Montenegro and Croatia v. Serbia and Montenegro). In the former case, an interpretation of the extent of the res judicata principle may allow the Court not to reopen the issue of jurisdiction, already decided in 1996 on the basis of Article IX of the Genocide Convention. In the latter case, various options might allow the FRY to be regarded as a party to the Genocide Convention.

The issue of state immunity in the case of human rights violations has been controversial in the last decade, partly due to the absence of international judicial pronouncements. The bringing of the three cases previously litigated in the United Kingdom and Ireland before the European Court of Human Rights was supposed to reduce this uncertainty. However, decisions of the Court seem to have failed to meet these expectations. The Court has failed to properly examine whether the sources of international law support the scope of state immunity as portrayed in the decisions. Furthermore, the decision on Al-Adsani is deficient in that it fails to respect the difference between sovereign and non-sovereign acts, and the effects of peremptory norms with regard to state immunity.

Judge Buergenthal argues that the increased acceptance by states of international human rights obligations proclaimed in UN and regional treaties, reinforced by the jurisprudence of international and regional tribunals, accounts for the substantial progress that has been made in the protection of human rights throughout the world. The resultant political significance of international human rights law and the international community's growing expectation of compliance with that law explain why states engaging in large-scale human rights violations increasingly risk serious political and economic consequences for such practices. A state's continuing non-compliance with its international human rights obligations tends also to lead to the gradual loss by its government of the national and international legitimacy it needs in order to govern, which may in time contribute to its fall.

When an international criminal tribunal establishes its headquarters in a state, its legal relationship with that state must be carved out. This legal relationship has the potential to exclude the applicability of human rights protection by curtailing the host state's jurisdiction in parts of its territory. Despite this, there is little clarity as to when when such curtailment should arise. This problem is illustrated by the situation regarding witnesses at the International Criminal Court, which has recently been the subject of decisions of the Hague District Court and of the European Court of Human Rights. These two courts disagree on the threshold at which the human rights issues engaged by the situation are brought under the jurisdiction of the Netherlands. This article submits that the European Court in Djokaba Lambi Longa v. The Netherlands set the threshold for jurisdiction under the Convention too high. In applying easily distinguishable previous case law, and failing to take into account all relevant facts, the Court's finding of inadmissibility is unconvincing. The Dutch Court, on the other hand, took a broader approach from which the European Court of Human Rights could learn. Ultimately the two decisions give contrasting interpretations of the relationship between the ICC and its host state, which could have wider ramifications.

This contribution investigates restrictivist reasoning on the origin of armed attacks, and concentrates on the interpretation of Article 51 of the UN Charter and the use of state practice. One particular aspect is examined: the linkage of the armed activities of non-state actors to a state required for an exercise of the right of self-defence to be justified in relation to that state. Many authors have moved away from a restrictive interpretation of Article 51 of the Charter and customary international law, and have proposed various legal constructs –complicity, aiding and abetting, harbour and support, unwillingness or inability to act– to allow for the invocation of self-defence even when armed activities of non-state actors cannot be attributed to a state and its substantial involvement is doubtful. Noticeable among authors generally, with certain exceptions, is a certain lack of concern to account for whatever method of interpretation or analysis they employ.