It is not generally appreciated that Francis Mann was not an international lawyer at all by training. His thesis at Berlin University was in company law. It was only after he had been in England for some time that he began to write about private international law,1 and his interest in public international law was developed as a result of his friendship with Sir Hersch Lauterpacht. It was not until 1943 that he published anything about public international law, and in that year he published a substantial article in two parts on the relationship between national law and international law, in which he built on the previous work on Judicial Aspects of Foreign Relations by Louis Jaffe2 and on acts of state by Sir William Holdsworth.3 Subsequently he came to make this subject his own, at least in England,4 where the subject has never attracted the attention which it has attracted in the United States.5

In November 2001, a new weapon was added to the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation's2 arsenal used to protect and preserve the world's cultural heritage, in the form of the Convention on the Protection of the Underwater Cultural Heritage.3 This Convention, while not yet in force, will complement UNESCO's three other heritage conventions, the 1954 Hague Convention on the Protection of Cultural Heritage in the Event of Armed Conflict,4 the 1970 Convention on the Means of Prohibiting and Preventing the Illicit Import, Export and Transfer of Ownership of Cultural Property (1971)5 and the 1972 Convention concerning the Protection of the World Cultural and Natural Heritage.6

A long time ago hens did not lay white or brown eggs but eggs in primary colours: red, yellow and blue. Since, depending on the colour of the eggs, their taste and quality varied, the farming industry split into red, yellow and blue industries catering for different markets. Those industries that dealt with the respective eggs became over the years highly competitive. And what was initially no more than a common understanding, namely, that hens laying red eggs belonged to the red industry, while hens laying blue and yellow eggs belonged to the blue and yellow industries, turned over the years into customary egg law, with each industry having its clearly demarcated area of competence. As it happened, due to interbreeding, some hens normally laying, for example, red eggs would very occasionally lay purple eggs or orange eggs. Also on occasion, some hens would stop altogether from laying eggs of a primary colour, but would lay orange, purple, brown or green eggs. These eggs and hens presented a problem, albeit not a severe one, as they remained very much the exception. Hens laying blue eggs were kept apart from hens laying red eggs and from those laying yellow eggs. Nevertheless, solutions to these problematic eggs and hens had to be found.

An issue has recently arisen in international criminal law concerning the gravity of the offences listed in the Statutes of the International Tribunals: Should offences be ranked according to their seriousness and, hence, as entailing heavier or lighter punishment? Should the same act when charged as a crime against humanity or genocide be punished more severely than when charged as a war crime?

[I]t is the transformation of custom into customary law—into something that State courts will recognize, enforce and require—that disrupts the continuity of the indigenous systems. In pre-colonial times … [the settlement of disputes] … depended … on the mutual processes of negotiation and compromise. There is no need to romanticize these processes…. But the important point in this context is that norms play a very different part in negotiations to that which they play in legal processes. They may be used to stake out negotiating positions as a starting point from which to proceed or as a sounding board as to the correct procedure in the cultural and symbolic sense, but they cannot be cited as rules or conditions that will be imposed.1

Following doi moi (renovation) market reforms in 1986, the Vietnamese government urgently required commercial laws capable of regulating the rapidly emerging private sector. Along with contract and property laws, lawmakers considered company law essential for a market-based legal framework. Since reforms could not wait the decades required to distil normative standards from local commercial practices, lawmakers turned to Western laws for inspiration.1

On 11 July 2001 the Commission adopted its Communication on European Contract Law,1 which has received a lot of attention in academic discussion.2 In the following the main contents of the Commission Communication will first be summarised. In addition the political and institutional context shall be described which is important for the understanding of the Communication and the future prospects. Finally, we will try to demonstrate, how—according to the Council report3 and the European Parliament (EP) resolution4 concerning the Communication—these future prospects could develop4a.

One of the asserted advantages and goals of the unification of substantive law lies in the prevention of ‘forum shopping’,1 ie the lawyer's act of seeking the forum that is most beneficial to his client's interest.2 This has been pointed out not only in discussions on unification of law in general,3 but also in discussions on specific international uniform contract law conventions, such as the United Nations Convention on Contracts for the International Sale of Goods4 (hereinafter CISG),5 the Geneva Convention on the Contract for the International Carriage of Goods by Road6 (hereinafter CMR)7 and the UNIDROIT Convention on International Factoring8 (hereinafter IFC).9

On 16 March 2001 the International Court of Justice gave judgment in what was then its most longrunning case. It was in 1987 that Qatar and Bahrain had begun a process of attempting to agree upon the submission of their differences to the Court, but although they were able to agree upon the subject matter in dispute, they could not agree upon its legal characterization and the manner in which the dispute should be placed before the Court. That notwithstanding, and basing itself upon the agreed minutes of a meeting held at Doha in December 1990, Qatar unilaterally instituted proceedings against Bahrain on 8 July 1991. Bahrain raised preliminary objections to the jurisdiction of the Court and the admissibility of the case which were first addressed by the Court in its judgment of July 19941 and, following a reformulation of elements of the Qatari application in November 1994, the application was declared admissible in February 1995.2 During the course of the subsequent written pleadings a further dispute arose concerning the authenticity of 82 documents annexed to the Qatar Memorial and, following exchanges on the matter, Qatar announced that it would not rely on the disputed documents.3 Oral hearings were held in May 2000 and judgment given some ten months later. The two principal elements of the case concern, first, the disputed title to, and status of, a number of islands, maritime features and a portion of the Qatar peninsula and, secondly, the course of the maritime boundaries between them. The case was extremely complex, with disputed characterizations of the physical and legal

The European Court of Human Rights has decided in the last three years five cases dealing with state or international immunities.1 Although the facts differed, the arguments of the applicants were much the same. They contended that allowing a foreign State or an international organisation to claim immunity in a civil action in proceedings in the defendant State violated the applicants' rights to access to a court for the determination of a civil right.2 The European Court accepted the claims in principle but concluded in each case that the limitation imposed on the right of access was for a legitimate reason (the protection of State or international immunities, a condition for effective co-operation between States or with international organisations) and was proportionate to this aim, because in each case, the grant of immunity was required by international law and that in each case there was the possibility of the applicant using another procedure to try to assert his rights, action in the courts of the foreign State or under the special staff regime of the international organisation.

Although a few States ratified the Rome Statute for the International Criminal Court1 soon after it was promulgated, the UK decided to prepare and pass implementing legislation prior to submitting its ratification. In England and Wales (and Northern Ireland),2 the ICC Statute is implemented by the International Criminal Court Act 2001,3 which came fully into force on 1 September 2001.4 The UK ratified the ICC Statute on 4 October 2001, fulfilling its aim of being amongst the first sixty States to do so.5 The Act has two major purposes, to ensure that the UK is able to co-operate fully with the International Criminal Court (ICC), and to enact into domestic law the substantive offences the ICC may assert jurisdiction over when it comes into being.6 It is the purpose of this note to introduce the Act and point to some interesting issues that may arise in the future.