To send content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about sending content to .
To send content items to your Kindle, first ensure email@example.com
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about sending to your Kindle.
Note you can select to send to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be sent to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
It is common to argue that the communist-led Democratic Republic of Vietnam, following the theory of "people's war," defeated the French in the First Indochina War. This argument is correct everywhere except for southern Vietnam. France's slow and systematic implementation of what it called "pacification," in concert with allied self-defense and paramilitary forces, slowly brought increasing parts of the Mekong Delta under the control of France and its allies. In reaction, The Resistance pursued a four-prong strategy: 1) they strengthened the communist core of the Resistance by recruiting cadres, purging "unreliable" non-communists, and working to capture control of the Resistance at all levels; 2) they reached out to potential allies like the Khmer, Chinese, Buddhists, and Catholics; 3) they practiced outreach towards rivals and enemies through proselytization (Địch vận); 4) they strengthened Resistance ability to engage in a sophisticated repertoire of violence ranging from intimidation to conventional warfare. Despite this sound strategy, the Resistance precipitously shifted to conventional warfare. The French-led forces took advantage of this costly mistake. France's commission of war crimes in keeping food from the population, its access to increased American funding after 1949, and contingent factors also contributed to Resistance failure.
This chapter focuses on the archive’s concepts and objects. This first examines how the tribunal’s legal rules shaped the archive, setting out how the court’s statute and ever-evolving jurisprudence created the framework through which the archive’s records were produced. Beginning to get to the political nature of this imagining, the chapter also demonstrates how certain interpretations of the law ended up preventing records from being produced – such as about the international nature of the genocide from entering the archive – and cemented the use of trials as a key governance tool within the international community. The second part zeros in on arguably the two most important objects for the archive: victims and perpetrators. Exploring how these were constituted in particular ways points to how this produced distinctive visions of community and also how this resulted in a number of conflicts between the archives strategies.
This article examines rosewood trafficking in the Casamance region of Senegal to determine whether acts of massive deforestation committed in the context of a non-international armed conflict can be prosecuted before the International Criminal Court (ICC) as war crimes of pillage and destruction of property under Article 8(2)(e)(v) and (xii) of the Rome Statute, respectively. It examines two of the main challenges resulting from the application of these provisions to acts of massive deforestation in the light of the ICC Elements of Crimes. Firstly, the article addresses the delicate issue of the establishment of a nexus between these acts and the related non-international armed conflict. Secondly, it discusses whether natural resources may qualify as ‘property’ for the purpose of Article 8(2)(e)(v) and (xii). It then offers avenues of reflection regarding the determination of ownership of these resources to fulfil the requirements of the Rome Statute.
In July 2020 the International Criminal Court opened the trial in the Al Hassan case. For the first time in the history of international criminal justice a defendant is being tried with the charge of the war crime of sentencing or execution without due process in the context of a non-international armed conflict. Together with its equivalent in international armed conflicts – the war crime of denying a fair trial – this offence falls within the category of the war crimes of denying judicial guarantees. Although there are differences in their constitutive elements, both offences prohibit states and armed non-state actors from depriving prisoners of war and civilians of certain minimum judicial guarantees. The provisions that regulate these two crimes, however, present interpretative and practical issues which, so far, have not received sufficient consideration. Most notably, the material elements of the offences raise a range of interpretative doubts and are of cumbersome application. The objectives of the article are (i) to identify the issues posed by the material elements of the war crimes of denying judicial guarantees, (ii) to warn of the pitfalls hidden by the interpretation of the offences, and (iii) to trigger the debate on the issues that the crimes raise.
As a reaction to the killing and beheading of two soldiers in the Syrian Civil War, the German Federal Court of Justice (BGH) set a milestone in the interpretation of § 8(1) no. 9 of the German Code of Crimes against International Law (VStGB). The judges confirmed the conviction of a young German citizen with Syrian roots, Aria L., who had been tried and convicted before the Higher Regional Court of Frankfurt am Main (Oberlandesgericht (OLG) Frankfurt am Main). Within the certiorari, the BGH reviewed whether the statute conformed with the principle of legality found within the Grundgesetz (GG), Germany’s constitution. The Court held that the corpse of a person killed is protected from desecration under humanitarian law pursuant to § 8(1) no. 9 VStGB, the equivalent to Article 8(2)(b)(xxi) and (3)(ii) of the Rome Statute for the International Criminal Court (ICC). Reviewing this particular decision, it was determined that under the circumstances of a non-international armed conflict, beheading someone, placing the head on a metal rod, and taking pictures afterward in order to upload them onto social media is gravely humiliating and degrading. The head is incomparably the part of the body that identifies a person. Furthermore, it is irrelevant whether the perpetrator had any physical influence over the person. In addition, war crimes can be committed in a non-international conflict, which should, however, be treated equally as an international conflict. This outcome triggered diverse reactions amongst legal scholars, especially due to the extension of the understanding of a “person” who is to be protected under humanitarian law.
“Genocide” became an option to codify the Martens Clause when Axis Rule was published in late 1944. But “war crimes,” “crimes against humanity,” and “crimes against peace” were the favored options among Allied authorities in the first half of the 1940s. Genocide’s breakthrough as a politically viable legal concept was dependent less on Lemkin’s well-known energetic advocacy than on its repositioning in a field of conceptual options over which he had no control. Lemkin’s achievement was not to invent a “new word … to denote an old practice in its modern development” but to contrive a conceptual artifice that enabled a new coalition of small states and civil society groups like the WJC to create a new reality by combining the “crippling” and “extermination” of nations after the disappointing outcome of the Nuremberg Trials in 1946. In doing so, he introduced definitional instability into the concept. Genocide’s redefinition in the UN Convention negotiated between 1947 and 1948 made the Holocaust the archetype of genocide.
The instalment of genocide as the “crime of crimes” marked a turning point in the centuries-old language of transgression: now only mass criminality motivated by race-hatred that resembled its archetype, the Holocaust, shocked the “conscience of mankind.” This depoliticization had momentous consequences for the visibility of permanent security. Now only illiberal permanent security – embodied by the Axis powers that disgraced themselves in the Second World War – counted as seriously criminal. Practices of liberal permanent security were not so shocking, notwithstanding the postwar peace movement’s attempt to link Auschwitz and Hiroshima. The most dramatic decades are mid-1960s to the early 1980s when scholars and activists who excoriated the US bombing and counterinsurgency strategy in Vietnam, and its nuclear weapons program. At issue were the notions of “national security” and “military necessity,” the watchwords of the juggernaut they called the US “national security state.”
Genocide is not only a problem of mass death, but also of how, as a relatively new idea and law, it organizes and distorts thinking about civilian destruction. Taking the normative perspective of civilian immunity from military attack, A. Dirk Moses argues that the implicit hierarchy of international criminal law, atop which sits genocide as the 'crime of crimes', blinds us to other types of humanly caused civilian death, like bombing cities, and the 'collateral damage' of missile and drone strikes. Talk of genocide, then, can function ideologically to detract from systematic violence against civilians perpetrated by governments of all types. The Problems of Genocide contends that this violence is the consequence of 'permanent security' imperatives: the striving of states, and armed groups seeking to found states, to make themselves invulnerable to threats.
Military justice as a body of law was subject to much criticism in the preceding decades before undergoing significant reforms to ensure that fair trial rights could be achieved. However, modern military justice systems are appropriate mechanisms for addressing law of armed conflict (LOAC) violations committed by service members. It is argued that the goals of military justice are consistent with LOAC, and that military justice has a valid legal basis to try violations. Such trials have a large body of precedent. The purported disadvantages of military trials are sufficiently mitigated to prevent cover-ups and unfair trials. Furthermore, military justice offers several benefits that cannot be achieved in a civilian or international forum. It is concluded that although military legal systems are imperfect, their role in the enforcement of international criminal law is worthy of further debate.
This chapter discusses international criminal law (fighting political crimes) and transboundary police cooperation (fighting common crimes), though mechanisms such as the ICC, but also extradition and abduction
Multiple countries have investigated and prosecuted the perpetrators of crimes committed during the Red Terror in Ethiopia. In bringing the perpetrators to account, each country adopted a unique approach, resulting in a variation in the situation’s legal characterization. The charges against the Red Terror perpetrators in the U.S. were based on violations of immigration laws, while the perpetrators in Ethiopia were charged and convicted of the crime of genocide. In contrast, one suspect, who had already been convicted of genocide by the Ethiopian High Court, has recently been convicted of war crimes by the Hague District Court, the Netherlands. The article investigates whether the Red Terror crimes constitute war crimes, genocide, or crimes against humanity. Accordingly, this analysis shows that while countries have used genocide or war crimes when prosecuting crimes perpetrated during the Red Terror, the best fit to the situation’s legal characterization would be crimes against humanity.
An initial glimpse into the ICC courtroom introduces the lead participants on the first day of the Court’s first trial. This chapter contrasts the modern courtroom in The Hague with culturally distant conflicts arising in the Congo, which tested the Court’s stamina for implementing international legal norms. The Court’s legal mission was formulated in the Rome Statute, a treaty accepted after 1998 by some 120 member states, building on earlier court models from Nuremberg, Yugoslavia, and Rwanda. Its moral scope contained broad ideals: promoting long-term peace and justice by prosecuting those deemed most responsible for atrocities that “shock the conscience of humanity.” Among the ICC’s innovations was a commitment to elevate victims of mass atrocities, enabling their active participation in trial proceedings. The Court’s overall design included a series of tensions and conflicts that would emerge during the years covered by the Congo trials. In addition to the cultural contrast between The Hague and the Congo, there were tensions between the strictly legal courtroom proceedings and the inevitable political entanglements facing an international court.
Hugh Hale Leigh Bellot (1860–1928) was a key figure in the process of the transformation of international law in general and international criminal law in particular generated in the context of World War I. This chapter looks at the biography and the intellectual work of a man, who, being a Doctor of Civil Law called to the bar in 1890, in 1915 became a founding member and honorary secretary to the Grotius Society. The aim of this society was to promote impartial discussion on the Laws of War and Peace, and on their reform as a consequence of what those involved considered to be the “new conditions” in World War I. For the time after the war this chapter discusses the crucial contribution of Bellot in the discussions within the International Law Association on the creation of an international criminal court. In general the chapter aims to put Bellot’s contribution into a context that looks at the same time into the nineteenth as well as the early twentieth century and thereby clarifies the position of this important man at the crossroads of international criminal law
International criminal justice has by many accounts a long and chequered past. Histories of that past have tended to be dominated by narratives of the institutional development of international criminal justice. The great diplomatic conferences, jurisdictional initiatives and adoption of treaties that have accompanied its existence at regular intervals are emphasized. The historical-legal narrative that dominates the scholarship is that of linear evolution from custom to conventions, noble plans to concrete institutions, from ad hoc to permanent. The undertone often is that of celebration of the progress accomplished, but also perhaps more problematically one where the past is seen to merely foreshadow the present and thus read in that light. Much legal scholarship, perhaps understandably given its emphasis on legal and institutional form, errs closely to this genre.
This book is concerned with the commercial exploitation of armed conflict; it is about money, war, atrocities and economic actors, about the connections between them, and about responsibility. It aims to clarify the legal framework that defines these connections and gives rise to criminal or, in some instances, civil responsibility, referring both to mechanisms for international criminal justice, such as the International Criminal Court, and domestic systems. It considers which economic actors among individuals, businesses, governments and States should be held accountable and before which forum. Additionally, it addresses the question of how to recover illegally acquired profits and redirect them to benefit the victims of war. The chapters shine a critical light on the options provided by a network of laws to ensure that the 'great industrialists' of our time, who find economic opportunities in the war-ravaged lives of others, are unable to pursue those opportunities with impunity.
This chapter examines whether the web of corporate criminal liability is effective from the perspective of a national jurisdiction such as the UK, specifically in relation to atrocity crimes such as crimes against humanity and war crimes. The chapter identifies blind spots in the UK's tangled legislative framework, but concludes that realism need not mean pessimism. Powerful remedies do exist, poised to be pursued.
Legal controversies and disagreements have arisen about the timing and duration of numerous contemporary armed conflicts, not least regarding how to discern precisely when those conflicts began and when they ended (if indeed they have ended). The existence of several long-running conflicts – some stretching across decades – and the corresponding suffering that they entail accentuate the stakes of these debates. To help shed light on some select aspects of the duration of contemporary wars, this article analyzes two sets of legal issues: first, the notion of “protracted armed conflict” as formulated in a war-crimes-related provision of the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, and second, the rules, principles and standards laid down in international humanitarian law and international criminal law pertaining to when armed conflicts have come to an end. The upshot of the analysis is that under existing international law, there is no general category of “protracted armed conflict”; that the question of whether to pursue such a category raises numerous challenges; and that several dimensions of the law concerning the end of armed conflict are unsettled.
This chapter traces the origins of the veto power of the permanent members of the UN Security Council from the negotiations leading into the San Francisco Conference to the finalization of the UN Charter. It then examines early response to Security Council paralysis – resolutions in the late 1940s by the General Assembly calling for veto restraint as well as the “Uniting for Peace” Resolution in 1950. Even though expectations for the Security Council have probably gone beyond the intention of the drafters of the UN Charter, especially since the end of the Cold War it is clear that when there is sufficient political will, this body has the legal ability to prevent or stop many situations of catastrophic consequences to communities, countries, and regions around the world. Concomitantly, when the Council does not take on such a role, there is widespread disenchantment with its performance. The lack of responsiveness to the commission of mass atrocity crimes (genocide, crimes against humanity, and/or war crimes), which have occurred virtually unimpeded in places such as Rwanda, Darfur, Syria, Sri Lanka, Myanmar, and Yemen has come at a staggering toll in terms of lives lost. Much of the time, inaction by the Council can be specifically traced to use of the veto, or the threat of the veto, by one or more of the permanent members. This chapter makes the case that it is time to reconsider existing hard law legal obligations and recognize that these in fact impose limitations on the use of the veto in the face of atrocity crimes.
This chapter discusses the establishment of the Special Court for Sierra Leone as the first treaty-based international criminal tribunal between the United Nations and one of its Member States. Although the Special Court’s legal framework benefitted from the precedents of the International Criminal Tribunals for Former Yugoslavia and Rwanda, the process of the establishment of Special Court posed new challenges for the international community. First, the chapter assesses how the international community and the government of Sierra Leone had competing visions for the Special Court. While President Kabbah urged the UN to create a full ad-hoc international tribunal similar to the one for Rwanda, the Security Council had plans to create the court using a new more consensual treaty approach in an attempt to cut costs. Second, it discusses the influence of Security Council permanent members, especially the United States and the United Kingdom, in shaping the ultimate design of the treaty-based court as a means to maintain some United Nations authority while supporting domestic prosecutions in the country where the crimes were committed. Finally, the chapter examines the final signed treaty and the six major institutional features evident within the Court’s founding documents.
This chapter discusses the contributions of the landmark trial of Liberian President Charles Taylor, the first African former head of State, to be tried and convicted by an international criminal tribunal in a contested proceeding. Taylor was convicted in April 2013 for his role in planning, aiding, and abetting war crimes, crimes against humanity, and other serious violations of international humanitarian law which occurred during the Sierra Leone Conflict. The chapter examines the controversies associated with former President Taylor’s prosecution and the novel arguments addressing the waiver of immunity by a tribunal that was treaty-based and not created using the Security Council’s Chapter VII powers. Taylor argued that he was entitled to immunity under international law because the Special Court was a domestic court. In addition to examining the caselaw of the International Court of Justice, on which the Special Court relied to find that Taylor was not immune from prosecution, the chapter continues to discuss the historical and symbolic implications of this major prosecution for international criminal law. Finally, the chapter examines how the Special Court Taylor immunity decision has impacted the current case law relating to immunities and prosecution of heads of State at the International Criminal Court.