Despite a recent law recognizing and protecting the rights of Indigenous Peoples, the post-independence laws of the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) have dispossessed, and continue to dispossess, Indigenous Peoples of their customary land rights. Collective and customary property rights are enshrined in the DRC Constitution; however, in practice there is little to no recognition or protection. This is because land statutes work in cross-cutting ways to deny Indigenous Peoples the formal legal title to their traditional lands, and without title they are vulnerable to dispossession by development or conservation. In the absence of a land tenure system establishing clear collective ownership rights, “community forests” represent an alternative strategy or pathway for Indigenous Peoples to secure their customary rights over their forests and their lands (the local communities’ forest concessions, CFCLs). Despite some successful cases of securing land tenure through the CFCLs, inaccessible legal requirements and difficult procedures make these a problematic pathway for land justice. This chapter sets out recommendations for strengthening land tenure and CFCLs.

Land and forests are integral to India’s Adivasi (Indigenous) Peoples. Lands provide sustenance and livelihoods, are a symbol of social status and dignity, and are central to the Adivasi “philosophy of life.” This chapter analyzes the various nuances of Adivasi land rights in India. It discusses the Adivasi land tenure systems, legal measures for protecting and allocating land, land holding patterns, the nature and scale of Adivasi land dispossession, and the strategies that the Adivasis have adopted to advance and safeguard their land rights. It is argued that, despite constitutional and statutory provisions and various policy measures to protect, promote, and secure Adivasi land rights, they increasingly experience land dispossession in different forms – reflecting an “implementation gap” in practice. This chapter concludes with recommendations for safeguarding Adivasi land rights, such as collaboration between Adivasi movements and civil society organizations, consistent governance measures for different land rights regimes (such as Sixth Schedule in Fifth Schedule Areas), and independent monitoring agencies to maintain accountability on land rights duties.

In Malaysia, three ethnic groups identify as “Indigenous Peoples”: the heterogeneous Peninsular Malaysia Orang Asli, natives of Sabah, and natives of Sarawak. Malaysia’s hybrid legal system confers differing constitutional, statutory, and common law rights and privileges to Indigenous Peoples, which present distinct yet shared experiences of their land rights. These Indigenous groups were granted differing levels of constitutional privileges during Malaysia’s constitutional formation, which resulted in divergent written laws for the protection and recognition of their customary lands and resources. These differing laws and histories have functioned to dispossess these communities of their traditional lands, territories, and resources in their own ways. The strategy of litigation has afforded Indigenous communities some recourse for gaps in the written law but common law development of such rights and the court process have equally proven to be a barrier in some cases. Although international commitments to the sustainable management of resources have increased possibilities for the inclusion of Indigenous communities in matters concerning their lands and resources, constitutionally-entrenched legal privileges have yet to translate to the effective protection and recognition of traditional Indigenous lands and resources in Malaysia.

Americans understood the importance of establishing judicial authority over maritime war from the moment they began resisting British hegemony in the 1770s. The states’ unwillingness to prevent American seafarers from violating the rights of foreigners during the American Revolution provoked diplomatic controversies that undermined the drive for independence. After the war, supporters and skeptics of the new Constitution fiercely debated its creation of a federal judiciary. Anti-Federalist critics feared the centralizing and despotic tendencies of life-tenured judges who would be “subject to no control.” But even the “most bigotted idolizers of state authority,” Alexander Hamilton famously wrote in The Federalist, agreed that the federal courts should have exclusive authority over maritime cases. If Americans truly wanted a government that could fulfill the nation’s international obligations and maintain harmony with other sovereigns, they needed a judiciary with the power to resolve disputes arising at sea.

The history of how the federal judiciary shaped American sovereignty has long been hidden, obscured by two often-told stories about the courts and the nation. One tells us that judges historically have ceded authority to the president in foreign affairs, and therefore have had little influence on the United States’ international relations. The other asserts that the Marshall Court’s constitutional rulings laid the foundation for federal sovereignty under the Constitution. Both of these accounts have elements of truth, but only because of developments a century later. The claim that Marshall’s constitutional decisions shaped the nation projects backward into the past an importance those rulings did not have when they were made. And the notion that the courts have historically had little to do with foreign affairs ignores that early judges were central participants in a cooperative effort among the three branches of government to secure the United States’ place in the world. It is that legacy of judicial nation-building, rather than the stories we have inherited, that can help us think about the courts’ role today.

This chapter examines the theoretical foundations of intellectual property law in the United States, setting the stage for understanding the challenges posed by artificial intelligence. The chapter focuses on utilitarianism as the dominant theoretical framework for US IP law, contrasting it with non-consequentialist theories. It provides a brief overview of the four major IP regimes:

Patent patent and copyright, which are explicitly grounded in the Constitution’s mandate to "promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts"; Trademark, which aims to reduce consumer search costs and ensure fair competition by protecting source identifiers; and Trade secret, which has a more convoluted history but has increasingly focused on promoting innovation and protecting confidential business information. The chapter emphasizes that US IP law prioritizes practical, societal outcomes over moral or philosophical considerations. It sets the stage for subsequent chapters that explore how AI’s emergence challenges these traditional theoretical underpinnings and the practical functioning of each IP regime.

In Book III of the Plato’s Laws, we are told that under the ancient constitution of Athenian, citizens ‘lived in willing servitude’ to the city’s laws and to its officers (archontes). How are we to understand the servitude (douleia) invoked in this slogan, and what are we to make of the qualification of the servitude as willing (hekontes, ethelontes)? Against those who suggest that Plato here construes willing servitude as a kind of freedom, I argue that the slogan is intended to emphasize the ways in which the ancient Athenians were unfree. Plato uses it to promote, as a political ideal, acceptance of the limitations on freedom that are the inevitable concomitant of political rule.

While the international law frameworks regulating the relations between States are relatively well developed, the role of international law at a municipal level is equally important. This can be illustrated in various ways. This chapter assesses the role of international law in municipal law; this includes a review of theoretical perspectives as reflected in the so-called monism-dualism debate, and a consideration of how the 'transformation' and 'incorporation' approaches have been dealt with by the courts. The chapter then examines the relationship between Australian law and international law, starting with an assessment of Australia's international personality; this is followed by a review of treaty-making in Australia, and the position taken by Australian courts on some of these matters. We then consider the impact of customary international law upon the common law, with particular reference to Australia. Following is a discussion of the relationship between treaties and municipal law, taking account of basic principles, implementation of treaties and the role of the courts. The chapter concludes with a review of constitutional and legislative options.

This chapter examines how government entities determine who is a journalist to allocate resources under conditions of scarcity and to assure that the press can conduct its functions without undue government regulation and interference. Using a new dataset of 172 laws, rules, and procedures that different government entities have used to define the press, it describes the most common tests government entities use for identifying journalists and compares them to each other. The chapter then makes four normative recommendations about the tests government entities should use to define journalists. First, government entities should have explicit and meaningful standards for press exceptionalism. Second, most press exceptionalism should be limited to professional journalists who regularly produce news stories or commentary. Third, press exceptionalism should not turn on the type of technology used to communicate. Fourth, government entities should continue to have the power to grant press exceptionalism to “bona fide correspondents of repute in their profession” so long as they do not engage in viewpoint discrimination.

This chapter reviews the proscription and criminalization of torture in domestic legal systems around the world. The 174 States Parties to the 1984 Convention against Torture are all obligated to ensure that all acts of torture are offences under its criminal law. In fact, torture is prohibited in some form under domestic law in 195 of the 197 States recognized by the Secretary-General of the United Nations . The two exceptions are Niue (a State not party to the 1984 Convention against Torture) and San Marino.

The political idea of self-government has a natural elaboration, which is that a society is self-governing when it is ruled by the will of the people of that society. A variety of attempts to vindicate popular will conceptions of self-government exist but I argue that they are fatally flawed. In its place, we need a conception of self-government that is deflationary (that is does not rely on the existence of a popular will) but nevertheless quite demanding. I discuss some deflationary accounts of self-government and I argue for an account that emphasizes an egalitarian collective decision-making process but that also recognizes the importance of outcomes. I argue that attention to the conditions necessary to the achievement of self-government of an egalitarian sort is essential to how we are to think of the proper aims of constitutional institutions. We need to attend to how information is disseminated to citizens and how citizens can have the sophistication necessary to understand information. An egalitarian conception of self-government can show how the constitution of a society should be structured so as to achieve equality in these two dimensions of the information system.

How much of a role can human dignity play in constitutional law? It can certainly serve as a foundation of some or all of the rights that a constitution comprises, and it may also figure in the specific content of some of these rights. It may do this explicitly or implicitly – implicitly (as in the US Constitution) when dignity’s role is brought out in legal argument rather than the explicit text. Most rights that protect freedom implicate dignity, but so also do social and economic rights in the constitutions that have them. More generally human dignity may serve as a constitutional value, guiding the interpretation of other provisions: it does this, for example, explicitly in the Constitution of South Africa. It may also underpin the constitutional protection of democracy and the franchise, the rule of law, structures of accountability, the importance of citizenship, and the overall orientation of the provisions of the constitution towards respect for the ordinary people of the country that it governs.

Freedom in a choice does not just requires the absence of interference by another, whether with a preferred option or with any option; it requires the absence of domination: the absence of vulnerability to a power of interference on the part of another. Law and only law can guard citizens equally against the domination of others by identifying a common set of basic liberties and by providing intuitively adequate resourcing and protection against others to enable people to exercise those choices. But the state that imposes law will itself dominate all or some of its citizens if it is not subjected to a system of intuitively adequate, democratic control over its imposition of law. Such a system should enable people to shape the framework of government, to impose operational checks, constitutional and contestatory, on officials in government, and to appoint or oversee the appointment of such authorities.