The legal concept of ‘amicus curiae’ (friend of the court) was unknown in Israeli law until 1999 when, in the course of a well-known legal decision (the Kuzli case), the Israeli Supreme Court adopted this common law concept as part of Israeli law. Almost fifteen years have elapsed since the legal precedent set in Kuzli, during which time the criteria for participation as an amicus curiae have been established.

The aim of this study was to empirically explore and analyse the ways in which the procedural institution of amicus curiae has been used and adopted under Israeli law, and the extent to which it has influenced judicial decisions. The study has used empirical methods, including the collection of quantitative data from computerised databases in Israel concerning cases in which an application to be recognised as an amicus curiae was made.

The main findings indicate that, over the last decade, the number of applications for recognition as an amicus curiae has grown steadily. Most of these applications were made by non-governmental organisations in attempting to support private individuals engaged in legal proceedings against the state or for-profit corporations. The findings reveal that the courts have approved most of these applications.

The global expansion of judicial power and the rise of litigation as a vehicle for social transformation are two conspicuous social phenomena that are subject to intensive research by social scientists and lawyers alike. One of the most hotly debated questions in this regard relates to the potential value of law in general, and litigation in particular, as a strategy for social change. This article examines the question by comparing the struggle for equality in Israel by two groups – women's rights activists and lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) rights activists – between 1970 and 2010. The struggles of women and LGBT people for equality have many shared characteristics, since both challenge the traditional conservative patriarchal social model. In Israeli society, moreover, both LGBT rights activists and women's equality activists faced the same political rivals: the powerful macho-type socio-political mentality, rooted in the central status of the military in Israeli society, and the strong hold of Jewish ultra-orthodox parties in the political system. The strategies that the two groups adopted to overcome these obstacles, however, were markedly different. While women's groups adopted an elitist strategy of struggle that concentrated on legal measures, LGBT rights groups adopted a variety of strategies that emphasised grassroots political tactics. The article examines the success of each group in achieving its political objectives by using cross-country comparative indexes of LGBT and women's rights. I argue that the comparison between the two groups points to the relative weaknesses of legal and litigation-centred strategies as vehicles for social transformation.

Impeding humanitarian access and the starving of civilians is prohibited under international humanitarian law in times of both international and non-international armed conflicts. Such conduct is criminalised under the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court (ICC Statute) when committed during an international armed conflict. However, without good reason, it is not a war crime when committed during a non-international armed conflict. Contemporary conflicts, such as that in Syria, show that this is a problematic omission. This article addresses the challenges in prosecuting the denial of humanitarian access during international armed conflicts and examines the options to prosecute before the International Criminal Court such denial in times of non-international armed conflict as other war crimes, crimes against humanity, and genocide. The author concludes that these options would not suffice and proposes to add to the ICC Statute the starvation of the civilian population, including through impeding humanitarian access, as a war crime for non-international armed conflicts.

Can there be a general theoretical perspective on civil society's involvement in transitional justice? This article considers this question in its application to the Israeli–Palestinian conflict. Within the study of transitional justice and conflict resolution, civil society – a notoriously plastic concept – can be understood narrowly as rights-oriented groups working ‘for’ peace, but the term is equally available to describe a broader array of communities that can either promote or prevent peace and justice.

It is, in fact, quite difficult to sustain a theoretical distinction between them, because transitional justice does not escape the dictates of politics – of differing human desires expressed through power. Efforts to memorialise imply conflict over the particular memories to be privileged; claims for reparations are not only demands for justice, but for material redistribution that in turn may promote conflict. A narrow view of civil society problematically assumes we even know – let alone agree on – what constitutes positive change.

In the context of the Israeli–Palestinian conflict, that is a fraught proposition. Both an accurate definition of civil society and the valence of justice work slip beyond the narrow confines of the received model's assumptions: both Jewish and Palestinian groups mobilise a spectrum of resources from political engagement, to overseas support, to violent self-help. On both sides, civil society groups are instrumentalised to advance not an agenda of peace or justice in some abstract sense but a parochial claim that, seen from the other side, is, in fact, an obstacle to resolution. Indeed, there may be no peace or justice initiatives that can be analytically separated from efforts the purpose and effect of which is the very opposite of our conventional understanding of the field. The range from vocal activism to violent action, the spectrum of activation, commitment and radicalism, must be understood as fraught but connected and unbroken – as, at most, a kind of punctuated continuum.

The real work performed by civil society in promoting agendas of peace and justice cannot properly be understood without locating it in a defensible theoretical and empirical framework. Imagining a narrow civil society risks skewing our analysis of what civil society can do and actually does in relation to conflict. Civil society can clear the path to peace, or can provide the principal obstacles to it – it can simultaneously do both. In this it very much shares the ambiguous, multivalent profile of its classic counterpart: politics in the public sphere.

Cyber warfare and the advent of computer network operations have forced us to look again at the concept of the military objective. The definition set out in Article 52(2) of Additional Protocol I – that an object must by its nature, location, purpose or use, make an effective contribution to military action – is accepted as customary international law; its application in the cyber context, however, raises a number of issues which are examined in this article. First, the question of whether data may constitute a military objective is discussed. In particular, the issue of whether the requirement that the definition applies to ‘objects’ requires that the purported target must have tangible or material form. The article argues on the basis of both textual and contextual analysis that this is not required, but it contends that it may prove to be useful to differentiate between operational- and content-level data. The article then examines the qualifying contribution of military objectives such as their nature, location, purpose or use, and questions whether network location rather than geographical location may be used as a qualifying criterion in the cyber context. The final part of the article addresses the question of whether the particular ability of cyber operations to effect results at increasingly precise levels of specificity places an obligation on a party to an armed conflict to define military objectives at their smallest possible formulation – that is, a small piece of code or component rather than the computer or system itself. Such a requirement would have significant implications for the cyber context where much of the infrastructure is dual use, but the distinction between civilian objects and military objectives is a binary classification.

This article analyses, from historical and comparative perspectives, three closely related concepts of administrative law – namely records, reasons and rationality. It finds that the concept of the ‘administrative record’ is far more significant in United States administrative law than in either English or Australian administrative law, and suggests why this might be so. The importance of the record in US law explains why it imposes stronger obligations on administrators to give reasons than does either English or Australian law. It also explains why terms such as ‘rationality’ and ‘reasonableness’ have significantly different meanings in US administrative law on the one hand, and English and Australian law on the other.

The Gotovina case presented the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY) with a unique opportunity to adjudicate on issues connected with the law of targeting and international humanitarian law (IHL) in a criminal context. This opportunity was especially important given the fact that legal issues arising out of complex, intense combat situations have only rarely been adjudicated. Although Gotovina was not formally charged with carrying out unlawful attacks on civilians, attacks by Croatia on four towns over the course of ‘Operation Storm’ were the focus of the proceedings. This led both Trial and Appeal Chambers to deal with issues related to the law of targeting such as classification of military objectives, proportionality, and the intent behind an attack. This article argues that the judges failed to take full advantage of the opportunity to discuss these issues. They failed consistently to articulate the legal reasoning behind their findings; they failed to explain the branch of law on which any of their substantive determinations were based; and, perhaps most importantly, they did not explain the relationship between IHL and criminal law and how IHL is to be applied in a courtroom.

This article discusses empirical research in political science on the topics of business and human rights, and transnational governance networks. It argues that transnational governance networks confront norm clashes and power conflicts, which undermine their effectiveness and legitimacy. Transnational governance as a concept and approach to ordering is therefore in need of meta-governance, by which the article understands secondary rules and procedures – that is, institutional mechanisms that allow for the mitigation and resolution of these conflicts. However, the extent to which such meta-governance currently exists, its effectiveness, and the rules and procedures that may legitimately define meta-governance and its actors are still unknown. This article calls for a research agenda to investigate these unknowns, which combines normative-legal and empirical-political science perspectives on the nature, form, legitimacy and effects of meta-governance.

This article presents the case for a progressive interpretation of the notion of military objectives in international humanitarian law (IHL), bringing computer data within the scope of this concept. The advent of cyber military operations has presented a dilemma as to the proper understanding of data in IHL. The emerging orthodoxy, represented by the 2013 Tallinn Manual on the International Law Applicable to Cyber Warfare, advances the argument that the intangible nature of data renders it ineligible to be an object for the purposes of the rules on targeting in IHL. This article, on the contrary, argues that because of its susceptibility to alteration and destruction, the better view is that data is an object within the meaning of this term under IHL and thus it may qualify as a military objective. The article supports this conclusion by means of a textual, systematic and teleological interpretation of the definition of military objectives found in treaty and customary law. The upshot of the analysis presented here is that data that does not meet the criteria for qualification as a military objective must be considered a civilian object, with profound implications for the protection of civilian datasets in times of armed conflict.

This article examines the changes in the encounter between sexual assault victims and representatives of the law enforcement and judicial systems in Israel as perceived by workers and volunteers in the sexual assault crisis centres. After more than four decades of action in legal contexts – from spurring changes in legislation, through the training of professionals within the legal system, up to escorting victims – it is still hard to find studies that describe any change beyond legislation and procedures in the forms that this encounter assumes in Israel and in the world.

For the purpose of the study, this interaction was separated from the other aspects of the procedure, observed in depth and, with the interviewees' help, broken down into its relevant components. Data gathered and processed using quantitative and qualitative methods show that, according to the impression of the critical and experienced interviewees, representatives of the legal system truly endeavoured during the first decade of the second millennium to provide victims with better conditions than in the past, encouraging them to speak out in criminal proceedings.

As a possible background for the changes in the interpersonal encounter, the article suggests focusing on two mutually related processes, historical but also ongoing. The first is a change in the modes of thought and action in the crisis centres that dealt with this matter and promoted specific changes in the interpersonal encounter. The second process is reflected in the way in which legislators chose to intervene in the interpersonal encounters through four sections in the Rights of Victims of Crime Law. These processes influenced one another and still largely accompany the developments in this sphere, teaching important lessons about change in systems that are not easily amenable to change.

This article responds to the two articles published in this journal that criticise the approach taken by the International Group of Experts (IGE) who prepared the Tallinn Manual on the International Law Applicable to Cyber Warfare. Their authors took issue with the approach of the majority of the IGE over the question of whether data qualifies as an ‘object’ under international humanitarian law such that, for instance, cyber operations that target civilian data violate the prohibition on attacking civilian objects. The majority of the experts took the position that the law had not advanced that far and that pre-existing law could not be definitively interpreted to encompass data within the meaning of ‘objects’. In this article, the Director of the Tallinn Manual Project responds to the authors' criticism of the majority view by explaining and clarifying its reasoning.

A serious issue that has confronted the international community is the legality of humanitarian intervention. Although the majority of scholars reject the existence of a doctrine of humanitarian intervention, could the attacked state invoke the responsibility of an intervening state before an international tribunal? This article attempts to answer this question in light of the often misunderstood clean hands doctrine in international law. It first concludes that under the lex lata, humanitarian intervention is prohibited under international law. This raises the question whether the clean hands doctrine may nevertheless preclude a court or tribunal from adjudicating in favour of a state that has been subject to humanitarian intervention. Although the clean hands doctrine exists under international law in various manifestations, its applicability in cases concerning humanitarian intervention is lacking. The article finally considers whether the jus cogens status of the prohibition of the use of force would prevent the applicability of the clean hands doctrine to humanitarian intervention cases were the clean hands doctrine to evolve into a customary international legal norm.

One of the least clarified areas of international law is the legal regime applicable to non-international armed conflict (NIAC) – that is, where hostilities occur between state and non-state actors (NSAs) or between two or more NSAs.1 This can be explained by the reticence of states to grant legality to such movements and their preference to label them as criminal movements or terrorist groups.2 The result is that the regulation of NIAC is still limited to the application of Common Article 3 of the Geneva Conventions of 1949 (GCs) and their Additional Protocol II of 1977 (Additional Protocol II or AP II).3 While Common Article 3 provides only a rudimentary framework of minimum standards, Additional Protocol II, which usefully supplements it, is still less detailed than the rules governing international armed conflict (IAC). Moreover, in contrast to Common Article 3,4 it has not yet attained customary status.5 This situation is a source of concern. Faced with the horrors committed in NIACs such as those in Rwanda, Sierra Leone and Liberia in the 1990s, and the awareness of an inadequate legal framework, the international criminal law (ICL) community decided to resort to international human rights law (IHRL) and ICL to fill the gaps of international humanitarian law (IHL) applicable to NIAC.6

It is a pleasure and an honour to have been invited to give this year's Lionel Cohen lecture, especially looking at the cast list of my predecessors. It has been a particular pleasure for me to return to Israel after nearly 50 years and to bring my husband to visit the grave of his maternal grandfather, who died in 1917 on the Gaza Strip. This was before my mother-in-law was born so it was something of a poignant moment for my husband, and I am extremely grateful to those who made it possible.

Under treaty law all civilian objects are protected in international armed conflicts (IAC) whereas it is only certain civilian objects that enjoy protection under treaty law in non-international armed conflicts (NIAC). However, it is commonly argued that all civilian objects are protected in NIAC under customary law. This article examines the reasons for the differences in the protection of civilian objects under treaty law and the argument that customary law now provides equal protection for all civilian objects under both IAC and NIAC. The article argues that this equal protection may hinder the ability of states to maintain law and order under their domestic law in NIAC in situations where they may need to destroy property which belongs to armed opposition groups. The article advances the argument that the law regarding targeting should be that all civilian objects are protected in NIAC but, unlike the protection of civilian objects in IAC, this protection does not bar a state from destroying in its territory objects which were considered to be illegal under domestic law before the commencement of the NIAC, in accordance with international human rights law as lex specialis.