The conduct of multinational corporations, particularly those operating in conflict areas, is increasingly becoming subject to public scrutiny. More and more companies profess a commitment to live up to their human rights responsibilities in fragile contexts. In situations of armed conflict, international humanitarian law also applies. The business sector is, however, relatively less aware of this body of law.

In June 2011, the United Nations Human Rights Council adopted unanimously the Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights, which spell out what measures companies and states could take to strengthen the human rights performance of the business sector around the world.1 The Review wanted to hear from the person who spearheaded this initiative, Professor John G. Ruggie, and have his views on any emerging good practices amongst governments and companies in implementing the Guiding Principles, on the importance of due diligence criteria and grievance mechanisms, and on the role of regional organisations and civil society in promoting the Principles.

Trained as a political scientist, Professor Ruggie has made significant contributions to the study of international relations, focusing on the impact of economic and other forms of globalisation on global rule-making and the emergence of new rule-makers. In addition to his academic pursuits, Professor Ruggie has long been involved in practical policy work. From 1997–2001, he served as UN Assistant Secretary-General for Strategic Planning, assisting the Secretary-General in establishing and overseeing the UN Global Compact, and proposing and gaining General Assembly approval for the Millennium Development Goals. In 2005, Professor Ruggie was appointed as the UN Secretary-General's Special Representative for Business and Human Rights. Over the course of six years and after extensive research, consultations, and work on pilot projects, Professor Ruggie developed the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights. Today, he chairs the boards of two non-profits, the Institute for Human Rights and Business and Shift: Putting Principles into Practice, and serves as Senior Advisor to the corporate social responsibility practice of the law firm Foley Hoag LLP.

Peter W. Singer is Director of the 21st Century Defense Initiative at the Brookings Institution in Washington, D.C. He is the author of three award winning books, Corporate Warriors: The Rise of the Privatized Military Industry, Children at War, and Wired for War: The Robotics Revolution and Conflict in the 21st Century.1 He has served as a consultant with groups that range from the US military and FBI to human rights organizations.

In this interview, Peter Singer explains to what extent and how new technologies change the way we think about going to war and the way we conduct war, as well as how they will impact the work of humanitarian actors. He shares his vision for the future, analyzing both the ethical and legal challenges that access to new advanced technologies poses and the opportunities it offers.

Peter Maurer studied history and international law in Bern, where he obtained his PhD. In 1987 he entered the Swiss diplomatic service, and has since held various positions in Bern, Pretoria and New York. In 2000 he was appointed Ambassador and Head of the Human Security Division in the Political Directorate of the Swiss Department of Foreign Affairs in Bern and in 2004 became Ambassador and Permanent Representative of Switzerland to the United Nations in New York. In January 2010 Mr Maurer was appointed Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs in Bern. He succeeded Jakob Kellenberger as ICRC President on 1 July 2012.

In this interview, Mr Maurer reflects on the rich history of the ICRC, conveys his perception of the evolution of the organization, and presents his perspective on the challenges ahead for the humanitarian sector and the ICRC in particular.1

The ‘debate’ section of the Review aims at contributing to the reflection on current ethical, legal, or practical controversies around humanitarian issues.

The definition of occupation under international humanitarian law (IHL) is rather vague, and IHL instruments provide no clear standard for determining the beginning of occupation. Derived from the wording of Article 42 of the 1907 Hague Regulations, occupation may be defined as the effective control of a foreign territory by hostile armed forces. It is not always easy to determine when an invasion has become an occupation. This raises the question whether or not the law of occupation could already be applied during the invasion phase. In this regard, two main positions are usually put forward in legal literature. Generally it is held that the provisions of occupation law only apply once the elements underpinning the definition set out in Article 42 of the 1907 Hague Regulations are met. However, the so-called ‘Pictet theory’, as formulated by Jean S. Pictet in the ICRC's Commentary on the Geneva Conventions, proposes that no intermediate phase between invasion and occupation exists and that certain provisions of occupation law already apply during an invasion.

The collapse of essential public facilities such as hospitals and water-supply installations, partly due to the large-scale looting and violence that came along with the progress of the coalition forces, in Iraq in 2003 demonstrates that this discussion is not simply a theoretical one. Invading armed forces need clarity as to what rules they need to apply.

Three experts in the field of occupation law – Marten Zwanenburg, Michael Bothe, and Marco Sassòli – have agreed to participate in this debate and to defend three approaches. Marten Zwanenburg maintains that for determining when an invasion turns into an occupation the only test is the one set out in Article 42 of the 1907 Hague Regulations, and therefore rejects the ‘Pictet theory’. Michael Bothe, while also rejecting the ‘Pictet theory’, argues that a possible intermediate situation between invasion and occupation, if there is any at all, would be very short and that, once an invader has gained control over a part of an invaded territory, the law of occupation applies. Finally, Marco Sassòli defends the ‘Pictet theory’ and argues that, in order to avoid legal vacuums, there is no distinction between an invasion phase and an occupation phase for applying the rules of the Fourth Geneva Convention.

The debaters have simplified their complex legal reasoning for the sake of clarity and brevity. Readers of the Review should bear in mind that the debaters’ actual legal positions may be more nuanced than they may appear in this debate.

The increasing complexity of weapon systems requires an interdisciplinary approach to the conduct of weapon reviews. Developers need to be aware of international humanitarian law principles that apply to the employment of weapons. Lawyers need to be aware of how a weapon will be operationally employed and use this knowledge to help formulate meaningful operational guidelines in light of any technological issues identified in relation to international humanitarian law. As the details of a weapon's capability are often highly classified and compartmentalized, lawyers, engineers, and operators need to work cooperatively and imaginatively to overcome security classification and compartmental access limitations.

The purpose of this article is to give an overview of current understandings of the various roles of business actors in armed conflict. It traces the expanding discussion of business and conflict in today's civil wars, and the discussion's importance to humanitarian, human rights, corporate and peacebuilding policymakers. It shows how the humanitarian understanding of business roles in conflict has progressed beyond some simple and largely negative stereotypes about business in war to become more sophisticated. The article then looks at the significant diversity of business actors, which can determine their experience of armed conflict. It is suggested that there are six potential roles of business in armed conflict – that of victim, perpetrator, supplier, humanitarian actor, peacebuilder, and conflict preventer. Finally, the article recommends a range of ways to improve humanitarian policy so that humanitarian actors engage with business more actively and appropriately on law, business relief, and business continuity.

This article looks at business activities in violent and fragile environments through an armed violence lens and explores the role of business in armed violence reduction and prevention (AVRP) strategies. The article argues that the transformation of armed violence patterns over the last decade requires a new optic on a subject that has traditionally been discussed in the context of ‘business and peace’ or ‘business and conflict’, and of armed violence related to inter- or intra-state armed conflict. The article sets out to better understand how different constituencies have dealt with the role of the private sector in reducing armed violence, and to connect the dots between various scholarly and practice communities to identify entry points for AVRP strategies across sectors and institutions. The article suggests that such entry points exist in relation to the costing of armed violence and civic observatories.

This article examines the historical evolution of the law of occupation from two angles. First, it analyses scholarly discourse and practice with respect to the general prohibition on the Occupying Power making changes to the laws and administrative structure of the occupied country, as embodied in Article 43 of the 1907 Hague Regulations. Many Occupying Powers and scholars have endeavoured to rationalize exceptions to this ‘general principle’ governing the entire corpus of the law of occupation. Their studies support the contingent nature of the law of occupation, with its interpretation being dependent on different historical settings and social context. The second part of the article focuses on how the law of occupation that evolved as a European project has rationalized excluding the system of colonialism from the framework of that law. The historical assessment of this body of jus in bello would be incomplete and biased if it did not address the narratives of such structural exclusivity.

Conflict in cyberspace refers to actions taken by parties to a conflict to gain advantage over their adversaries in cyberspace by using various technological tools and people-based techniques. In principle, advantages can be obtained by damaging, destroying, disabling, or usurping an adversary's computer systems (‘cyber attack’) or by obtaining information that the adversary would prefer to keep secret (‘cyber espionage’ or ‘cyber exploitation’). A variety of actors have access to these tools and techniques, including nation-states, individuals, organized crime groups, and terrorist groups, and there is a wide variety of motivations for conducting cyber attacks and/or cyber espionage, including financial, military, political, and personal. Conflict in cyberspace is different from conflict in physical space in many dimensions, and attributing hostile cyber operations to a responsible party can be difficult. The problems of defending against and deterring hostile cyber operations remain intellectually unresolved. The UN Charter and the Geneva Conventions are relevant to cyber operations, but the specifics of such relevance are today unclear because cyberspace is new compared to these instruments.

Cyber warfare figures prominently on the agenda of policymakers and military leaders around the world. New units to ensure cyber security are created at various levels of government, including in the armed forces. But cyber operations in armed conflict situations could have potentially very serious consequences, in particular when their effect is not limited to the data of the targeted computer system or computer. Indeed, cyber operations are usually intended to have an effect in the ‘real world’. For instance, by tampering with the supporting computer systems, one can manipulate an enemy's air traffic control systems, oil pipeline flow systems, or nuclear plants. The potential humanitarian impact of some cyber operations on the civilian population is enormous. It is therefore important to discuss the rules of international humanitarian law (IHL) that govern such operations because one of the main objectives of this body of law is to protect the civilian population from the effects of warfare. This article seeks to address some of the questions that arise when applying IHL – a body of law that was drafted with traditional kinetic warfare in mind – to cyber technology. The first question is: when is cyber war really war in the sense of ‘armed conflict’? After discussing this question, the article goes on to look at some of the most important rules of IHL governing the conduct of hostilities and the interpretation in the cyber realm of those rules, namely the principles of distinction, proportionality, and precaution. With respect to all of these rules, the cyber realm poses a number of questions that are still open. In particular, the interconnectedness of cyber space poses a challenge to the most fundamental premise of the rules on the conduct of hostilities, namely that civilian and military objects can and must be distinguished at all times. Thus, whether the traditional rules of IHL will provide sufficient protection to civilians from the effects of cyber warfare remains to be seen. Their interpretation will certainly need to take the specificities of cyber space into account. In the absence of better knowledge of the potential effects of cyber warfare, it cannot be excluded that more stringent rules might be necessary.

Accounts narrating the history of the modern law of occupation display ambivalence to the 1863 Lieber Code. At times, they mark the humanity of its provisions on occupied territories; at others, they find its concept of humanity in occupation limited compared to subsequent developments. A broader reading of the Code against Lieber's published works, teaching, and correspondence reveals a unique – and disconcerting –sense of humanity pervading through its provisions. Lieber's different sense of humanity, not directed at individuals, throws light on the history of the law governing occupied territories today and paves the way for critical reflections on its conceptual bases.

This article argues that attempts to regulate the private military and security industry have been stymied by a tendency to be constantly ‘regulating the last war’ or responding to the challenges of a previous manifestation of private force rather than dealing with the current challenges. It argues that states ought to more clearly consider the direction of the industry rather than regulate in response to crises, an approach that has left regulation unequipped to deal with two fields of PSC growth: the use of PSCs against piracy, and to deliver and support humanitarian aid.