The prospects for international administrative law and the international administrative legal system in the future and particularly in the next century will be determined to a large extent by how much importance the world attaches to international organisations and particularly to the maintenance of an independent international civil service as a means of securing international peace and security, promoting development and fostering international co-operation. Not only must there be a change in the current attitude of certain governments towards international organisations as a means to this end but there must also be a more sanguine approach to the singular importance of an independent civil service in the process. What can be said about the international administrative legal system and international administrative law in the future must be conditioned necessarily to a large extent by assumptions made about what is going to happen in the future to both international organisations and the civil service.

It has been believed for many years, indeed centuries, that the Channel between Great Britain and Continental Europe could be crossed only by boat. This belief has come to an end, albeit—at least for the time being—at a price which does not allow huge financial investments to be turned into a profit. The belief that in the legal field differences between English or Anglo-American common law and French and German—or, rather, Romanistic and Germanistic—legal systems are unbridgeable (or should I say “un-chunnelable”?) is even more widespread. That is the subject of this article: to show that differences between legal systems may, as a result of the European Union, be less unbridgeable than before, at least in certain areas of the law.

The title of this article is not intended to disparage the value of freedom of speech in a modern democratic society. The right freely and publicly to criticise the institutions of government, the conduct of public affairs whether by the executive or Parliament, the freedom, indeed, to criticise the performance of the judiciary—that right is one of the glories of the unwritten constitution of this country. Its importance is constantly and forcefully emphasised in our highest courts. In one of the Spycatcher cases Lord Bridge of Harwich said that the right to freedom of speech is one of the fundamental freedoms essential to a free society.1 In the same case Lord Oliver quoted Blackstone's statement that the liberty of the press is essential to the nature of a free State.2 More recently Lord Goff of Chieveley, observing that he could see no inconsistency between English law and the European Convention on Human Rights in relation to freedom of speech, added: “This is scarcely surprising, since we may pride ourselves on the fact that freedom of speech has existed in this country perhaps as long as, if not longer than, it has existed in any other country in the world.”3

The Annual Digest of Public International Law Cases—the ancestor of the International Law Reports—was first published “under the direction” of the Department of International Studies of the London School of Economics. The “chief inspirers”, to use Fitzmaurice's phrase, were Arnold McNair and Hersch Lauterpacht, the latter then on the teaching staff of the School. There was also an Advisory Committee of Sir Cecil J. B. Hurst, a former President of the Permanent Court of International Justice and later Legal Adviser to the Foreign Office; W. E. Beckett, also of the Foreign Office; A. Hammarksjöld, the Registrar of the Permanent Court of International Justice, and Sir John Fischer Williams of Oxford and the Reparation Commission.

On 9 September 1958 the UK government signed the Convention on the Continental Shelf, which had been concluded in Geneva on 29 April 1958 following a UN conference on the law of the sea at which three other conventions were concluded.2 On 11 May 1964 it ratified the Convention, which came into force on 10 June 1964.3 Meanwhile, on 15 April 1964, the Continental Shelf Act received the royal assent. Although the Act's long title indicates that it gives effect to certain provisions of the Convention on the High Seas,4 it does not expressly mention the Continental Shelf Convention. Yet the relationship between this Convention and the Act is more than a mere coincidence of time and title. It is the purpose of this article to investigate only one of the many important problems to which this relationship gave rise, namely how the basic concept of continental shelf rights as embodied in Article 2(1) of the Convention was incorporated into UK law. Other problems, such as the application to the shelf of UK civil and criminal law, will have to await discussion elsewhere.

Though generally uncontroversial in England, the rules on pleading and proof of foreign law are nevertheless of interest from the comparative point of view by reason of the diversity of approaches found in different European countries. There is, moreover, a feeling on the part of some Continental lawyers that the English rules undermine the objectives of international and EU initiatives on conflict of laws and that the United Kingdom does not, therefore, fully carry out its international and EU obligations in this regard. These accusations have been levelled in particular with regard to the Rome Convention.1 In view of this, a comparative study of the different approaches in the main European countries might be timely; it might also provide an appropriate background for an examination of the question whether the Rome Convention requires any modification of the traditional English approach.

This article seeks to present an integrated conception of sustainable development, with particular emphasis on the contribution of international human rights law and theory. Part II considers a structural conception of sustainable development. Part III considers parallels between sustainable development and self-determination. Part IV provides some general reflections on international environmental law and international human rights law in terms of analogous concepts, principles and systems. What similarities are there and what differences? Part V considers the progress made towards recognition of a “human right to the environment”. Part VI considers how international environmental claims could be brought within the existing international human rights complaint systems. Part VII analyses the judgment of the European Court of Human Rights in the Lopez Ostra case (1994), the leading case on environmental claims to have reached that Court.

For a long time it looked as though comparative law was a matter for academic research, difficult and, surely, very interesting; beautiful to know something about, but not immediately relevant to the daily life of the law. Practising lawyers would admit the importance of comparative law in theory, but they would add that they themselves were, of course, too much occupied with the latest cases on trade marks, or with recent developments in the law of negligence.1

Since the late 1940s, economic considerations relating to the globalisation of world markets have led an ever larger group of Western European countries to unite in the quest for a supra-national legal order which, in time, generated the European Community. Most of these countries' legal orders claim allegiance to what anglophones are fond of labelling the “civli law” tradition,1 although two common law jurisdictions joined the Community in the early 1970s. The European Community's early decision to promote economic integration (and, later, other types of integration) through harmonisation or unification has involved, at both Community and national levels (for the implementation of Community rules in the member States carries the adoption of national rules in all member States), a process of relentless “juridification”; law, in the guise of legislatively or judicially enacted rules, has assumed the role of a “steering medium”.2 This development was foreseeable: once the interaction among European legal systems had acted as a catalyst for the creation of a supra-system,3 the need to achieve reciprocal compatibility between the infra-systems and the supra-system naturally fostered the development of an extended network of interconnections (such as regulations and directives) which eventually raised the question of further legal integration in the form of a common law of Europe.4

In November 1995 a draft resolution was presented to the 28th General Conference of UNESCO which, among other matters, dealt with the organisation's future activities in the field of the underwater cultural heritage.1 In conjunction with this resolution, the text of a draft Convention for the Protection of the Underwater Cultural Heritage prepared by the International Law Association (ILA) was presented to the General Conference as the possible basis for a new international convention on the subject.2 Annexed to this draft Convention text was the Charter for the Protection and Management of the Underwater Cultural Heritage prepared by the International Council of Monuments and Sites (ICOMOS)3 to accompany the ILA draft Convention and serve as a set of criteria of good practice to be applied by States parties to the Convention. The General Conference adopted the draft resolution without any change and this therefore forms the basis for future deliberations within UNESCO over this issue, the question whether to draft an international convention on the basis of the ILA draft text having been a central part of the deliberations. Subsequent to the adoption of the resolution, meetings have been held between UNESCO and various bodies with an interest in the issue (such as the International Maritime Organisation and the International Oceanographic Commission as well as the UN Law of the Sea office). Following these consultations, it was agreed to hold a joint meeting of representatives of these organisations with chosen experts in order to examine the ILA draft Convention along with any other material relevant to a new legal instrument for the protection of the underwater cultural heritage.

The Maastricht Treaty aimed partly to close the democratic deficit that exists in the European decision-making process. Accordingly, the role and the powers of the European Parliament were increased: a right of initiative was created, 1 committees of inquiry were reinforced, 2 the right of petition3 was recognised, an Ombudsman was created4 and a new legislative procedure, 5 which attempted to put the Parliament on an equal footing with the Council, was also included in the Treaty.

Article 9 of the Treaty of Rome, as amended by the 1992 Treaty on European Union (the Maastricht Treaty), declares that the European Community “shall be based upon a customs union which shall cover all trade in goods and which shall involve the prohibition between Member States of customs duties on imports and exports and of all charges having equivalent effect”.1 The principle was thereby established of the free movement of goods within the European Community. The Treaty does not define “goods” for the purposes of the Articles (9 to 37) which make up the Title dealing with “Free Movement of Goods”, but the European Court of Justice has held that “goods” means “products which can be valued in money and which are capable, as such, of forming the subject of commercial transactions”. From this it is clear that works of art are included in the “goods” that are intended to circulate freely within the Community.

In this article the legal and institutional issues surrounding the transition to a European Central Bank (ECB) will be discussed. The transition to a single currency entails many legal and institutional issues, both at the European level and at member State level. I will focus on a few main themes.

The Association of South East Asian Nations1 (ASEAN) was formed on 8 August 1967. Inter alia, the five founding members of ASEAN agreed in the Bangkok Declaration to “accelerate … economic growth … in the region, … to promote regional peace … and … to promote active collaboration and mutual assistance in matters of common interest in the economic … and administrative fields”.2

In June 1992 the UN Conference on Environment and Development (UNCED) took place in Rio de Janeiro; 1993 was the year of the World Conference on Human Rights, 1994 the year of the Cairo International Conference on Population and Development, and in March 1995 it was the turn of the World Summit for Social Development in Copenhagen.

Fundamental issues sometimes hide themselves behind what to an untrained eye might look like a technical and somewhat dry debate. Thus, a layman hearing Community lawyers' talk about the legal basis of legislation might be excused for not realising that the issue may be that of the role of the European Parliament in the European Union, and therefore the democratic legitimacy of the EU institutions. The debate about the function of the concept of discrimination in the law on the free movement of goods, services and persons in the Community is one of those discussions which has more to offer than meets the eye. What the debate is really about is the balance of powers between the member States and the Community and the federal nature of the Community legal order as well as, incidentally, the balance between market principles and other values embodied in legislation. Translated by specialists in the free movement of goods in the Community, it has become, in the context of Article 30 of the Treaty: should we read a “rule of reason” within Article 30, or can Cassis de Dijon be explained in terms of indirect discrimination?