The right to the freedom of movement for all Germans is one of the nineteen so-called Grundrechte (Fundamental Rights) and is enshrined in Article 11(1) of the German Grundgesetz (Basic Law): “All Germans enjoy freedom of movement throughout the Federal territory.” On 17 March 2004, however, the Bundesverfassungsgericht (Federal Constitutional Court) handed down a decision in which it concluded that the restriction of freedom of movement for one clearly defined group of German citizens is constitutional. Pursuant to the Wohnortzuweisungsgesetz, or Residence Assignment Act, as amended in 1996, Spätaussiedler (ethnic German migrants from the former Soviet Union who are eligible for full citizenship status), may have their freedom of movement restricted during the first three years of their residency in Germany. The restriction on their freedom of movement is triggered if they seek to avail themselves of any of a range of social benefits, including: welfare, some forms of unemployment assistance (Arbeitslosenhilfe), or integration assistance directed at Spätaussiedler, such as a six-month language course. Confronted with the loss of these social benefits, Spätaussiedler who nonetheless choose to exercise their freedom of movement are eligible to receive only a subsistence level of support. This restriction applies, nearly without exception, to all Spätaussiedler for the first three years of their residence in Germany due to the high rate of reliance among Spätaussiedler in their initial years in Germany upon these forms of public assistance.

Recent German court decisions in the cases of Mzoudi and Motassadeq illustrate the dilemma of dealing with international terrorism in legal terms when politicians and intelligence services believe themselves to be above or beyond the law. These cases have already been discussed in a special edition of the German Law Journal. The focus in this article is to contextualise the outcome of these cases in the “war on terror” and to analyse legal retribution, vengeance and torture on a scale of possible ways to address mass violence. The escalation of Islamist fundamentalism has the potential to rock Western democracies in their very foundations. Counter terrorism-measures in stepping up security legislation is not dealt with as such here, neither is this a fully-fledged discussion of the law of peacekeeping and armed conflict with reference to “new terrorism”. The aim here is much more modest. It is a search for truth and ways out of a dead-lock.

The Financial Times billed the Mannesmann trial, which began on January 21, 2004 and where final arguments by the prosecution and by the defense are scheduled for June 30, July 8 and 14, 2004 before the Regional Court (Landgericht) in Düsseldorf, as the “biggest criminal trial in German corporate history.” The backdrop for the trial was the January 2000 hostile takeover of Mannesmann AG, the once massive German telecommunications and engineering company that employed over 130,000 people. Vodafone Airtouch, the British telecommunications giant, had initially offered €101 billion for Mannesmann but only succeeded in their takeover by sweetening the price to €178 billion. Consequently, the Mannesmann takeover is still the largest the world has ever seen. The six defendants include towering figures in corporate Germany, most notably Josef Ackermann, the current chief executive of Germany's largest bank, Deutsche Bank and former member of Mannesmann's supervisory board (Aufsichtsrat). The enormity of the companies and personalities involved stretched the trial's magnitude beyond the confines of this single takeover. Reporting for their global business audience, the Financial Times conflated the trial to an indictment of Germany's entire system of capitalism. “What is on trial here is the free market itself,” wrote Wolfgang Munchau, their continental European business columnist.

The enlargement of the European Union, the attempt to put together a constitution we can all live with, the divisions rendered raw by passionately opposed positions on the prosecution of the so-called “War on Terror” are just some of the issues which make identifying oneself as European so damn confusing of late. The inaugural conference of the European Society of International Law, held at New York University's Villa La Pietra in Florence on 13 – 15 May 2004, saw the question of what precisely Europe is fall to the international lawyers to answer. The process of drafting a European constitution had already provided the constitutionalists with the opportunity to ponder what it is that defines us and, more specifically, distinguishes us from our American cousins; in Florence, the international lawyers had their turn to mull over such questions.

The global effort to establish an effective system of international justice is at an important phase in its history. After close to 50 years of relative stagnation following the Nuremberg trials at the end of World War II, the field of international criminal law has been revitalised. The establishment of the International Criminal Court, the ad hoc tribunals for the former Yugoslavia and for Rwanda, “hybrid” or “internationalised” processes such as the Special Court in Sierra Leone, and national criminal justice systems exercising universal jurisdiction, have all lent substance and credibility to the assertion that the most grievous human rights crimes are subject to international scrutiny and legal action.