The article explores the political context of the Bosnian Genocide case recently decided by the International Court of Justice. It strives to show that an appreciation of the larger disputes within Bosnia and Herzegovina and Serbia is necessary for understanding the Court's judgment properly, particularly when it comes to the litigation strategies of the two parties which shaped the final outcome of the case, and, above all, for understanding how the judgment was perceived by the general public of the former Yugoslavia.

This contribution examines the problem of review of targeted sanctions imposed by the Security Council in the light of recent developments occurring in the EU context. Some recent judgments of the European Court of First Instance of the European Communities (CFI) are analysed, as rendered in the cases of Yusuf and Kadi and also in the more recent cases of the Mujaheddeen and Sison. These last two judgments show that flaws in the targeted sanctions regimes exist not only at UN level. The CFI also does not substantively review the listing when this listing is carried out by the Council of the EU. An examination of the progress made at UN level to address procedural flaws shows that, more than anything else, the real stumbling-block is the lack of a substantive review of intelligence information by an independent and impartial organ. The only conclusion that can be drawn from this is that we are on the way towards a better de-listing procedure, but are not there yet.

Four discrete issues demonstrate how complex the crime of aggression under the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court will be following the amendments approved in Kampala in June 2010. First, the absence of an explicit magnitude, or gravity, requirement for determining an act of aggression ignores the reality of how matters are referred to the ICC as well as how one first determines the existence of aggression. The gravity test of a crime of aggression is insufficient and misleading in arriving at a methodology for a logical determination of both acts and crimes of aggression. An agreed understanding in Kampala to resolve the dilemma is fraught with contradictions. Second, the amendments fail to address how the ICC should respond to a Security Council determination that an act of aggression has not occurred. Third, the lingering debate over how the Rome Statute should have been amended to activate the crime of aggression will burden the Assembly of States Parties, which should focus on arriving at a united interpretation of the procedures used to approve the Kampala amendments. Fourth, given the many permutations of how states will fall within or outside the jurisdiction of the International Criminal Court regarding the crime of aggression, the resulting patchy landscape of coverage should surprise no one.

This article considers the relationship between the United Nations and its member states in view of the Security Council's assertion of legislative powers. It claims that the exponential growth in UN powers at the expense of the powers of its member states cannot be arrested by legal means, because of the nature of the UN system and the absence of legally enforceable criteria and compulsory dispute-settlement mechanisms. For this reason, it proposes a different approach to law-making in the area of international peace and security – one that is built around the principle of subsidiarity, as reflected in Article 2(7) of the UN Charter. The role of the principle of subsidiarity in this respect is to determine which authority is best suited to exercise legislative power and how such power should be exercised in order to attain the objective of peace and security more efficiently. It is thus contended that the principle of subsidiarity promotes co-operative relations between the United Nations and its member states by protecting the latters' jurisdictional authority from unnecessary interference.

In the previous editorial, Larissa van den Herik and Jean d'Aspremont referred to LJIL's ‘special plural identity’. On the one hand, this plurality shows in its table of contents; on the other hand, the plural identity is equally – if not even more – treasured in terms of appreciating the plurality of voices within the legal discipline, as the editors-in-chief also highlight. Diversity and heterogeneity are an asset for academic debate, and LJIL as such seeks to provide a forum for scholars from different ‘paradigms’. The appreciation of diversity and plurality is also reflected in the interest of LJIL to look beyond the confines of the legal discipline itself and engage with external perspectives to foster discussions about international law. It is in light of this open-mindedness and the wish to reach out to non-legal audiences, and to the international relations community in particular, that I was invited to join the LJIL team some years ago. Whereas there is a growing audience of IR scholars genuinely interested in (theorizing) international law, LJIL is not very well known as a journal with that profile for its International Legal Theory section. As a leading scholar in IR once remarked: ‘LJIL is the best kept secret in IR’. So when the request came for me to write an editorial, it seemed only apt to reflect upon some of the perils and promises of interdisciplinarity from my experience as an IR scholar within the LJIL editorial board.

The December 1999 judgment of the ICTY in the Jelisić case is the first ruling on the merits from that court dealing with an indictment for genocide. The Trial Chamber concluded that the Prosecutor had failed to prove that genocide was committed and that consequently the accused could not be convicted as an accomplice to the crime. It went on to examine whether despite the absence of genocide on any widespread or systematic basis it was still possible for an individual, driven by genocidal intent, to commit one of the underlying crimes such as killing or causing serious bodily or mental harm. The Trial Chamber considered this a plausible hypothesis but ruled that this did not correspond to the facts of the case. Since the Jelisić ruling, the Preparatory Commission of the International Criminal Court has attempted to eliminate the lone génocidaire scenario in the Elements of Crimes. While the law remains unsettled, awaiting clarification from the Appeals Chamber, a wise prosecutorial policy would be to reserve international genocide prosecutions for serious cases involving organized and widespread crimes. Exaggerated attention to individual and isolated cases is a questionable use of valuable resources and risks diluting some of the terrible stigma now attached to the “crime of crimes.”

It is commonly agreed that international criminal law (ICL) is a ‘hybrid’ legal culture, which mixes the legal traditions of the common law and civil law. However, the precise nature of this legal culture remains a contentious legal and theoretical issue. The paper identifies the two dominant models of ICL within these debates as either a clash of cultures or a sui generis system, and shows how neither satisfactorily engages with the concept of legal culture itself. To address this problem, the paper develops a new account of ICL as a global legal culture. The paper first identifies the distinctive ‘cultural logic’ of ICL, drawing on the example of recent developments in sexual violence offences. It then examines how ICL takes a global legal form, which ‘globalizes’ liberal legal culture. Finally, the paper shows how this process of making the legal culture of ICL ‘global’ creates its cultural contradictions, but also enables the possibility of making a new legal culture at the international level.

Judges are at the very centre of Anne-Marie Slaughter's influential liberal theory of international law. More than a century after liberal internationalists were making bold plans for a permanent international court, Slaughter's theory offers an alternative liberal account of the constitution of a global community of law. For Slaughter, domestic courts are responsible for enforcing a ‘new’ transnational legal order established by the interactions between citizens, corporations, and governmental agencies of increasingly disaggregated and porous states. This article challenges the role of adjudication in Slaughter's theory by unpacking the normativity inherent in her ostensibly descriptive liberalism, and identifying problems with the values and commitments at its foundation.

The MOX Plant award, rendered on 3 July 2003, contributes to elucidation of the right of access to environmental information under the OSPAR Convention. However, the ‘self-contained’ vision of the OSPAR Convention embraced by the majority on the panel – rejecting in effect the relevance of competing international environmental regimes and dispute settlement procedures – deserves criticism. First of all, it leads to the establishment of a more limited right of access to environmental information under the OSPAR Convention than is recognized under other arrangements. It also represents an approach which might exacerbate the fragmentation of an increasingly complex body of international law.

The International Criminal Court (ICC) has issued its third confirmation decision against Jean-Pierre Bemba Gombo,1 the former president of the rebel Mouvement de Libération du Congo (MLC) and commander in chief of its military wing, the Armée de Libération du Congo (ALC).2 The decision is, in principle, to be welcomed, since it constitutes a further consolidation of the ICC case law and breaks new ground in some important areas, for example the law of crimes against humanity (Art. 7 of the ICC Statute3)4 and command responsibility (Art. 28).5 From an outsider's perspective it also seems that the Chamber, on the basis of the available (disclosed) evidence, took the right decision when it changed the Prosecutor's liability from (co-)perpetration (Art. 25(3)(a)) to command responsibility. Yet there are some fine legal-technical points where the Chamber did not dig deep enough, incurred conceptual errors, or drew some illogical conclusions. These issues shall be discussed briefly here, not in a destructive spirit but to contribute constructively to the improvement of the future case law.

This article seeks to show that both the conceptualization and practice of international human rights education within the mainstream human rights community has been shaped and framed, with mostly negative consequences, by at least three constitutive orthodoxies: a heaven-hell binary distinction between an all but “perfect” West and an all but “hellish” Third World; a consequent unidirectional traffic of human rights teaching from the West to the rest; and a reliance on the abolitionist paradigm of human rights education. It starts by mapping these orthodoxies, and proceeds thereafter to challenge them as fundamentally problematic and as capable of frustrating the project of progressive human rights education. The article ends by offering an insight into the ways in which international human rights education might be re-imagined if it is to have a better chance of achieving its ordinarily laudable mission.

In 2012, the Leiden Journal of International Law (LJIL) celebrates its silver jubilee. Such a milestone calls for a brief sketch of LJIL's life and development over the past quarter of a century. This editorial accordingly narrates how LJIL grew from a modest student-run journal to establishing itself as a respected participant in the international academic arena. It is premised on the idea that LJIL's professionalization process and the gradual formation of a distinct identity in the field may be of interest to our entire epistemic community and those interested in the dynamics of the dissemination of scholarly ideas. Eventually, this editorial engages with some of the greatest challenges with which LJIL – as well as other actors in scholarly publishing – will most likely be confronted in the years to come.

In his recent review of Neil Boister's book, An Introduction to Transnational Criminal Law, Robert Currie praises the author for shedding light on a field of law that has suffered from inattention. Transnational criminal law (TCL), the ‘other’ branch of what was traditionally called international criminal law, has been overshadowed by international criminal law ‘proper’ (ICL). The establishment of international criminal tribunals after the end of the Cold War, culminating in the establishment of the ‘flagship’ court, the International Criminal Court (ICC), came with a spectacular rise of ICL as a separate legal discipline. As a result, ICL stole the limelight at the expense of TCL. Currie deplores this since TCL presents features and issues that are worthy and in pressing need of in-depth study. Also, in his view the attention to ICL is unjustified: ICL ‘as an academic and legal inquiry or study has become distended by over-study’. While he supports the mission of international criminal justice in general, Currie points out that ICL as an academic discipline is saturated; each article, paragraph and subparagraph of the ICC Statute has been pulled apart and dissected.

The jurisprudence of the ICTY and the ICTR has denied this question, but accepts causality as a basic principle of criminal responsibility. Since the relevant articles in the Statute of the ICTY (Article 7(3)) and the ICTR (Article 6(3)), differ from Article 28 of the Rome Statute, which demands “a result of his or her failure to exercise control properly,” a comparative study is desirable. It has to include the question, whether this failure overlaps with the omission “to take all necessary or reasonable measures within his or her power,” and whether the last alternative “failed […] to submit,” requires at all a causal nexus.

Based on interviews with 23 key figures at the International Criminal Court, this study represents an effort to go beyond the text of the Rome Statute. It tries to understand the different views or interpretations of the law regarding victim participation that exist within the organization and will ultimately shape how victims’ rights are applied in the Court. Rather than being a legal study, this research is rooted in organizational psychology.

This article sets out the major tenets of new materialism and maps out its implications for international law. It considers what new materialism might offer for those of us working within international law in the way of new insights, resources, practices or politics. It first sets the contours of new materialism within the broader material turn. It then elaborates three main tenets of new materialism’s methodology, theory, and ontology: its attention to matter in its physicality; the embedded and entangled subject; and the vitality or agency of objects. The article focuses on how new materialist work might help us to understand, first, subjectivity and second, power and accountability in international law. It concludes that new materialist approaches offer important and compelling insights, working against entrenched categories and structures that continue to perpetuate or excuse violence and harm in international law’s doctrines and practices. These insights provide resources for rethinking power and subjectivity, and the role these play in international law. However, those of us working to consider how we can respond to pressing crises of justice and coexistence within international law may find new materialism most powerful when brought into relation, and deep conversation, with more structural methodologies. Notably ‘older’ (Marxist or historical) materialisms grasp embedded power relations and deep-rooted systemic harms in more concrete ways. This is, the article concludes, a conversation that international law scholars are well placed to contribute to, deepening both ‘old’ and ‘new’ materialist insights for international law.

The goal of this article is to initiate an interdisciplinary and historical reflection on one of the central preoccupations of our time: the relationship of religion to international order. This current project grows out of my long-standing work on the genealogy of modern internationalism. In my past work, I have argued that internationalists constructed their own disciplines in tandem with their construction of nationalism, to such an extent that modern ‘internationalism’ and modern ‘nationalism’ must be understood in relation to each other; in the present essay, I contend that ‘internationalism’ and ‘religion’ have an equally mutually constitutive relationship. This article seeks to retell the story of international law over the past century through the lens of its relationship to religion – a lens that both overlaps with and differs from that of nationalism. Its historical narrative is rooted in the early twentieth century – a period to which so many of our ‘modern’ cultural conceptions may be traced. Its methodology is broadly interdisciplinary, setting changing international legal conceptions of religion in relation to contemporaneous developments in domains such as sociology, religious studies, and historiography. This is the first piece of a series of projected studies on the construction and contestation of ‘religion’, ‘the secular’, and ‘the international’ over the past century. It is also my first publication associated with the interdisciplinary Religion and Internationalism Project, which I co-direct at Brown University.

Along with “globalization” and ideas of a “new world order”, the last 20 years have witnessed the emergence of an (anti-)foundational critique of international law which may be associated with the postmodernist turn of philosophy. In addition, globalization has questioned some of the basic assumptions of international law, especially the primordial role of states. The article analyses several answers postmodern international legal theory has given to the challenges for international law – despair, politicization, history, subjectivism(s), democratic experimentalism, and a return to positivism. It argues that postmodern theory fails to provide a concept for the future of international law but that this is exactly what is needed to save international law from politics and irrelevance. The author comes to the conclusion that a “middle-of-the-road”-approach steering a course between positivist objectivism and the subjective responsibility of the lawyer might be the most promising avenue for the future of international law. Wer mir Dekonstruktion ans Herz legt, und auf Differenz besteht, steht am Anfang eines Gesprächs, nicht an seinem Ziele.Hans-Georg Gadamer

This article explores the conditions and modalities under which a state can incur responsibility in relation to violations of international law involving military applications of artificial intelligence (AI) technologies. While the question of how to attribute and allocate responsibility for wrongful conduct is one of the central contemporary challenges of AI, the perspective of state responsibility under international law remains relatively underexplored. Moreover, most scholarly and policy debates have focused on questions raised by autonomous weapons systems (AWS), without paying significant attention to issues raised by other potential applications of AI in the military domain. This article provides a comprehensive analysis of state responsibility in relation to military AI. It discusses state responsibility for the wrongful use of AI-enabled military technologies and the question of attribution of conduct, as well as state responsibility prior to deployment, for failure to ensure compliance of AI systems with international law at the stages of development or acquisition. Further, it analyses derived state responsibility, which may arise in relation to the conduct of other states or private actors.

Security measures taken in the name of the ‘war on terror’ have frequently been understood to operate through a domain of exception, defined as an extra-legal space of intervention where normal rules of juridical protection and due process are suspended. Yet whilst most analyses of the exception are critically reliant on notions of legal threshold, they are largely dismissive of the potentially productive nature of legal contestation. This article inquires into the dynamic confrontation between law and exception in the context of the UN 1267 sanctions system, focusing on the Office of the Ombudsperson as an institutional experiment designed to remedy the fundamental rights deficiencies of the regime. Drawing on Agamben's analysis of the exception as a ‘hybrid space’ and Dyzenhaus's concept of the ‘legal grey hole’, our analysis of the Ombudsperson demonstrates the emergence of novel, hybrid procedures and evidentiary standards being deployed in the 1267 delisting process. First, we assess the Ombudsperson's logics of decision-making and argue that their appeals to fairness hinge on the production of a temporal chasm that legitimizes the deployment of intelligence material in listing cases. Second, we show that the Ombudsperson is in the process of carving out novel evidential standards that are more attentive to notions of inference and speculation than conventional standards of proof. These standards serve to fortify the use of sanctions as a pre-emptive security measure and do not, in principle, appear to exclude material that may be obtained by torture.