This article analyses the relationship between the scope of security needs that are cited as justification for restricting humanitarian assistance in situations of occupation and the scope of the occupant's obligation to facilitate and/or proactively provide humanitarian relief. It argues that, compared with a non-occupant, an occupying power may consider broader security goals as reasons to restrict humanitarian assistance, but that doing so imposes a greater responsibility on the occupying power to provide alternatives to the humanitarian assistance being restricted. In addition, as a normative matter, as increasingly long-term security goals are included in the ‘military necessity’ cited as a reason for restricting humanitarian assistance, the ambit of what is included in humanitarian assistance should be expanded to include the economic development and investment in infrastructure needed to provide for humanitarian needs in the long term. This kind of regime would enhance the self-regulation of warring powers by requiring those with the ability to engage in long-term security planning to use that ability also to provide for the long-term humanitarian needs of the civilian population. The article examines restrictions on humanitarian assistance in Gaza as an example of how this normative arrangement might work in practice.

This article examines the essential characteristics of the Palestine Mandate in the context of the League of Nations mandate system as a whole, pointing out its particular nature. It commences with a brief look at the Versailles environment and the relevance of the principle of self-determination, with an emphasis upon the development of the mandate system. The article then turns to consider the Palestine Mandate in its historical framework and the exceptionality of this Mandate. The distinction between the international allocation of the status of a territory and the determination of its boundaries is posited.

What is the role of a government attorney who represents a government agency on judicial review? Most academic literature in the United States (US) advocates the ‘hired gun’ model in which the role of the government lawyer is no different from that of a lawyer who represents a private client (although some academics and government lawyers disagree). The prevailing view in Israel is that government lawyers are ‘ministers of justice’, who owe a primary obligation to the public interest rather than to the client agency. This difference is attributable both to fundamental differences in legal culture between the US and Israel as well as to unique features of the Israeli system of judicial review.

The article traces a set of regional images in international legal and diplomatic documents leading to the establishment of the Palestine Mandate (1915–22). The analysis suggests that at that important crossroad, when a new world order was imagined and negotiated, a broad, layered and diverse vision of a comprehensive ‘region’ was actively present in the minds of very different actors within the framework of empire. A vast territory was reconstructed as opening up for new ways of rule and of influence, for enhanced development and for dealing with strictly European globalised issues. That this powerful regional vision has been disregarded because of the weight of the subsequent territorial geopolitics in the Middle East is not surprising. Today, however, when classic international law responses – the state on the one hand and international cooperation on the other – prove weak and unstable, and especially vulnerable to ‘new regional threats’, it may be worthwhile to look back at a period in which the region was still imagined as a place of political possibility.

This article challenges the idea that contextualisation of humanitarian aid affects the principle of universality of human rights as well as the principles of neutrality and impartiality. It seeks to demonstrate that contextualisation will not only improve access, delivery and protection: contextualising a mission also enables aid workers to respect the local context without impacting negatively upon universal human rights. The author argues that affecting the societies in which aid is delivered is inevitable. The key then becomes to avoid endorsing indirect cultural relativism. This is why the article puts forward the idea of creating a yardstick or a test that would help in deciding which beliefs and values are to be included when considering the context, and which should be excluded. The process of selection of values and beliefs is to be operated by an empowered local population. The filter suggested in the case at hand is the Muslim legal instrument of maslaha, which protects the public interest. The use of this filter can be efficient only if Islamic authoritative sources are interpreted differently, in a reformist fashion, to try and match universal human rights law. This is possible through the Muslim theories advocating change. Muslim beneficiaries who are vulnerable as a result of a disaster or during a conflict provide an opportunity to test the filter of maslaha, looking at how an empowered community can change and influence the agendas of aid agencies.

Discussions and depictions of lawyers in Canada largely ignore a significant segment of the legal population: government lawyers. Canada is a modern liberal democratic state with a significant public sector employing a large number of lawyers in many public sector settings. Lawyers who work directly for the executive branch – government lawyers – are a special subset of public lawyers. These government lawyers are ‘unique’ in many respects. They do not have paying clients as do private sector lawyers. Their client is ‘the Crown’ – an abstract emanation of the state. This article explains the unique role of government lawyers in Canada as derived from the historic and legislative responsibilities of the Attorney General. It then addresses questions that arise for government lawyers in Canada in public law litigation.

Dr Rabbi Isaac Breuer, a German jurist and Jewish rabbi, represented the ultra-orthodox community in Palestine before the international committees which considered the future of the Palestine Mandate. In his work, Breuer criticised the concept of sovereignty and introduced an alternative regime for global governance of developing peoples. His unique position, as analysed in this article, can contribute to contemporary debates surrounding the role of sovereigns as trustees of humanity, sovereignty and international law and ways of promoting global peace and human welfare.

By introducing Breuer's thought, this article seeks to contribute additional sources – both Jewish and universal – to these ongoing debates. Letting these neglected voices in international legal history enrich the debate can convince us, once again, of the importance of the periphery and of peripheral voices for the development, vitality and relevance of international law.

Breuer's model replaces the notions of ‘sovereignty’ and ‘rights’ with those of internalised obligations and subservience to law and justice. Limiting any national aspirations to total sovereignty, he implored the United Nations to refrain from elevating the Jewish national home to statehood. Opposing the Zionist position, he insisted that the Mandatory power and international institutions would enable two nations to develop side by side, in what he termed ‘the state of peace’, under international trusteeship.

We carefully draw on Breuer's insights to reflect on present debates on trusteeship, sovereignty and the management of areas devastated by conflict.

How can regulators keep up with sea changes in dynamic markets? This article proposes the use of competitive forces to generate innovative regulation. In markets where national, social, cultural, economic or other interests must be maintained in the face of evolving risks, heightened uncertainties and dynamic technological developments, regulators have to learn by doing.

This article proposes the novel concept of intra-regulatory competition (IRC), a powerful method for developing innovative regulatory solutions by staging a contest between different regulatory regimes imposed simultaneously on market participants in a given jurisdiction. The article describes the principles of and justifications for IRC, conditions for its effective implementation, its potential benefits and drawbacks. IRC is analysed against the backdrop of similar concepts such as randomised law, experimental law and inter-jurisdictional competition. Finally, the article argues that the regulation of media content in order to promote cultural pluralism and the regulation of computerised trading in securities and futures markets are fields that are ripe for and compatible with the application of IRC.

Israeli proponents of the enactment of a legislative override often invoke Canada as a model that Israel should follow. Their proposals would allow the Knesset to ‘override’ a decision of the Supreme Court of Israel that strikes down a law on the ground that it violates a Basic Law. Proponents of an Israeli override seek recourse to various types of argument to support their position. This article focuses on one such argument: the use of Canada as a model to support the Israeli argument for enacting an override. It argues that in order to evaluate both the value of adopting the Canadian override and the likelihood of its transplantation to Israel being successful, one needs to acquire a deep understanding of its operation in Canada. The article contains four sections in addition to the introduction. Section 2 briefly explains what ‘the Canadian override’ is and how it came to be. Section 3 analyses the positive attraction of the Canadian override as a constitutional model, and identifies three different models of the Canadian override. Section 4 focuses on the Canadian experience with its override. It explains why Canadians have come to view it in negative terms – the ‘bête noire of Canadian constitutional politics’– because of the manner in which it was adopted and the circumstances in which it was first used. Section 5 concludes with some thoughts on legal transplants, legitimacy and lessons for Israel from the Canadian experience.

The phenomenon of social exclusion in Israel is a vivid demonstration of the Basic Laws' failure to fulfil their integrative role. Despite the ‘constitutional revolution’ and the Supreme Court's ongoing endeavour over the last two decades to instil a bill of rights through its jurisprudence, Israeli society has failed to fully internalise values of equality. In terms of legal jargon, individuals continue to claim and exercise ‘sole and despotic dominion’ over their private property in order to avoid contact with individuals belonging to certain minority groups. In many cases, such behaviour in the private sphere results in exclusion from the public sphere.

This phenomenon is especially astonishing considering the fact that many laws in Israel apply the right of equality to the private sphere. Furthermore, the Israeli Supreme Court has developed comprehensive human rights jurisprudence applicable to the private sphere. The gap between the law in the books and the law in action illustrates that effective implementation of human rights in the private sphere cannot be achieved solely by specific legislation or by jurisprudence that is sensitive to human rights. This argument is backed by several recent bills which preserve and enforce the exclusion of minorities, particularly of Arabs, from the public sphere. These bills illustrate that exclusion is indeed a growing phenomenon in Israeli society that cannot be overlooked. Moreover, they underscore the urgent need to entrench a direct obligation to apply human rights to the private sphere at the constitutional level. This will be achieved only when Israel adopts a full constitution.

The Mandate for Palestine has a unique character regarding both its beneficiaries, the Jewish people, wherever they live, and the obligations of the Mandatory power. At the same time it has been a burdensome stone right from the beginning. Representatives of Palestinian Arabs have rejected it as being incompatible with their right to self-determination. The policies of Great Britain, the Mandatory power, show a gradual departure from its obligations. The establishment of the Jewish national home became, instead of the primary obligation, just one of the duties of equal weight and content as others under the Mandate. Following the establishment of the State of Israel, the relevance of the mandatory system in the light of Article 80 of the UN Charter has been recognised, inter alia, by the International Court of Justice. The unique character of the Palestine Mandate, however, has been kept under wraps. Some academic writings and legal actions by the Palestinians now offer a radical revisionism, which uses the Mandate as the legal basis for a Palestinian state. This trend is not without consequences for the recognition of Israel as a Jewish state and for the right of the Palestinians to self-determination.

This article considers the role of legislative override clauses in the Canadian and Israeli rights-protecting systems, which share many institutional features. After providing a detailed account of the adoption of the override clause in the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms, as a compromise between legislative supremacy and final judicial review, the article analyses the distinctive and unexpected political dynamics generated by this compromise, including its effect on the exercise of public power and elections. Although adopted to appease political leaders who opposed the Charter on substantive and institutional grounds, the legislative override has to date worked to legitimate judicial review and bring Canada further into the model of the modern constitutional state. The article then considers the lessons that Israel might learn from this analysis in the light of proposals to adopt an override clause to apply to a wider range of fundamental rights and to operate against Supreme Court judgments.

The purpose of this article is to review the manner in which the human rights treaty bodies (HRTBs) treat Israel, focusing on the system of periodic reporting, with the aim of examining whether Israel is being accorded ‘special treatment’ or, put more simply, whether a bias against Israel can be ascertained in the work of the HRTBs. In analysing the concluding observations (COBs) issued in respect of six of Israel's recent periodic reports, we identified four distinct population groups within Israeli society, and studied the number and nature of the COBs targeting each of these groups. This we termed the ‘output’. We then looked into the amount of the alternative information provided to the Committees by civil society organisations, which we termed the ‘input’. An examination of the two reveals a clear correlation between the relatively greater weight accorded to the Palestinian population in the occupied territories in the input side of the exercise (the alternative reports) and the output side (the COBs). Thus, what might initially be perceived as proved bias in the treatment of Israel by the HRTBs in light of the seemingly disproportional weight they accord to the conflict, turns out to be at least partially influenced by the information and materials provided to the Committees.

The events surrounding the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948 and the ensuing Palestinian naqba (disaster) have generated an abundance of legal literature. It is beyond the ambitions of this article to revisit all or most of the existing literature, or to strive and comprehensively discuss the various legal propositions they consider. Instead, it offers a critical assessment of some of the legal conclusions offered by one of the most influential experts in the field – Professor James Crawford – who, in the second edition of his seminal treatise The Creation of States in International Law, discusses at some length the events surrounding the creation of Israel and the status of Palestine. Section 2 of the article offers some general observations on the continued relevance of the events surrounding the creation of Israel. In particular, it raises the question of the relationship between the principles of ex injuria non oritur jus and ex factis oritur jus in the Israeli–Palestinian context. Section 3 examines the legal significance of the 1922 League of Nations Mandate and Crawford's position concerning its validity. Sections 4 and 5 adopt a similar examination with regard to two other historic events of potential legal significance, namely the 1947 UN General Assembly Resolution 181 (the Partition Resolution) and Israel's 1948 Declaration of Independence. Section 5 also briefly examines Crawford's conclusions relating to the status of Palestine, and Section 6 concludes.

This article explores the often neglected relationships between constitution-making (including amendment) mechanisms and constitutional-infringement mechanisms by focusing on the override as one of the possible tools to depart from a Constitution. The article suggests that there are two types of override: a ‘common law override’, which is not uniquely Canadian, and a ‘sunset override’. The common law override evolves in the judicial decisions of a given country when the courts require the legislature to explicitly take responsibility for an action. Under the common law override, we may couple together phenomena that are not typically connected, including a means of protecting common law rights, a judicial presumption against delegation of power to administrative agencies, and mechanisms of dealing with procedural or substantive legislative entrenchment. In contrast, the sunset override is a Canadian invention. For the tool to be part of the infringement mechanisms of a country's Constitution, it must be provided for explicitly in that Constitution, and its exercise must be temporary.

This article follows the various possible uses of the common law override. It shows that Israel has vast experience with the common law override which may shed light on Israel's future possible exploitation of the sunset override. The article then shows that Israel has adopted the sunset override following the Canadian example. When the Rabin government adopted the tool as part of an exchange deal with the ultra-orthodox religious political party Shas, the terms of the deal included Shas' acquiescence to the peace process in exchange for the Rabin government's use of the override to protect the religious status quo from judicial intervention. In addition, the Israeli justices played an active and unique role in the birth and formulation of the Israeli override. As has happened with the Canadian override, supposedly these circumstances should have made the override illegitimate in Israel. However, this article argues that it is not the political uses of the override that result in its lack of use. Rather, the determining factor is the override's compatibility with the constitution-making process in a given country. From a normative perspective, it is easier for the Israeli legislature to override its own earlier enactments, even those titled Basic Laws, than it is for the Canadian legislature to override the People's enactment of the Charter. Thus, it is expected that Israel might more freely deploy the sunset override were it to become a general mechanism embodied in the Basic Laws, while, in contrast, the sunset override has fallen into disuse in Canada.