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A New International Legal Regime for a New Reality in the War Against Drugs

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By Guillermo J. Garcia Sanchez*

We are only asking coherence: you cannot criminalize and legalize at the same time.” – Felipe Calderon, Former President of Mexico

It is confusing for our people to see that, while we are loosing lives and investing resources in the fight against drug dealers, in the consuming countries people are promoting initiatives like the one in California to legalize the production, the selling and the consumption of marijuana.” – Juan Manuel Santos, President of Colombia [1]


On October 27, 2010, the presidents of Mexico and Colombia presented a joint critique on the tendency of U.S. states to decriminalize the consumption of “soft” drugs.[2] In an interview with BBC reporter Stephen Sackur, when asked if he thought U.S. states were not meeting their responsibilities to fight drugs, former Mexican President Felipe Calderon responded, “Yes, in these particular matters they don’t.”[3] President Calderon’s comments are not only moral recriminations; they also have several legal implications.

The United States, along with 184 other nations, is a ratifying party to the United Nations Convention against Illicit Traffic in Narcotic Drugs and Psychotropic Substances of 1988 (the “1988 Convention”).[4] This international treaty was negotiated under one basic assumption—that the success of the anti-drug regime requires not only that producing countries stop actors from exporting drugs, but also that consuming countries enforce penalties on their consumers. Article 3.2 mandates that each party to the Convention “establish as a criminal offense under its domestic law, when committed intentionally, the possession, purchase or cultivation of narcotic drugs or psychotropic substances for personal consumption.”[5] It is a basic principle of economic theory that as long as there is demand, supply will follow. This, in effect, means that to successfully prevent drug activity, both supply and demand must be targeted. Arguing that one side—exporting or importing countries—holds sole responsibility for stopping drug activity would contradict the general principle of law that “no one is obliged to do the impossible” (ad impossibilia nemo tenetur).

In 1978 Eduardo Jiménez de Aréchaga, a former judge of the International Court of Justice (“ICJ”), classified the fight against drugs as a possible example of a jus cogens norm.[6] He believed that since 1912, when the first opium convention was signed, there was universal recognition that states were obliged to work against the production, trafficking, and consumption of drugs.[7] Twenty years after Judge Aréchaga’s statement, the slogan of the 1998 Special Session of the United Nations General Assembly on the matter—“A Drug-Free World – We Can Do It”—appeared to confirm his views.[8] If Judge Aréchaga’s argument was correct, then the Convention codified “rules of customary law which cannot be set aside by treaty or acquiescence but only by the formation of a subsequent customary rule of contrary effect.”[9]

The problem with characterizing the fight against drugs as a peremptory norm is that this stance also recognizes the possibility that the norm is not set in stone: Jus cogens norms are created through practice and universal state recognition. Thus, the constant violation of a peremptory norm, when considered universal, could eventually emerge as a new jus cogens rule. The only way to escape this problem is to assume the naturalist position that what elevates a norm to jus cogens is the “particular nature of the subject-matter with which it deals.”[10] But who is empowered to determine that a rule, such as the fight against drugs, is, by its nature, a peremptory norm? The international system does not have a central authority to determine what in the “particular nature” of certain norms makes them peremptory. Certainly in the case of the fight against drugs, the consensus is even less clear.

Indeed, in recent years, a group of countries that signed the 1988 Convention has decriminalized the consumption of certain drugs. European nations like the Netherlands, Portugal, Uruguay, Spain, and Switzerland have adopted health-oriented policies to combat drug use instead of focusing on the prosecution of consumers. A similar trend is emerging in the United States, where a number of states no longer consider the possession of small quantities of marijuana a crime.[11] Surprisingly enough, former presidents of Brazil, Colombia, and Mexico who once courageously fought drug trafficking in producing countries have applauded these policies: “The war on drugs has failed . . . . Prohibitionist policies based on eradication, interdiction and criminalization of consumption simply haven’t worked.”[12] The invitation for a serious debate on the issue was even echoed in a 2013 report by the Organization of American States on regional drug policy.[13]

These facts invite the question of whether the current, growing decriminalization of soft drugs constitutes the emergence of a new customary rule that could modify the old treaty regime. International legal theory and tribunals recognize that a uniform and consistent practice, along with an opinio juris or the state’s “feeling” that it is following a norm, is needed before the international community can assert the emergence of a new custom. Nevertheless, two unsettled matters of international law affect the process of recognizing a new customary practice. First, there is no clear theory on how to identify the subjective element of customary international law.[14] Second, there is no rule regarding the amount of time and the level of contradictory practice needed for a new international regime to be born.[15]

Regarding the first point, the opinio juris is defined as a “sense of legal obligation.”[16] In the words of the ICJ, “[states] must feel that they are conforming to what amounts to a legal obligation.”[17] Do the current decriminalizing states violate the 1988 Convention because lawmakers believe that there is a new rule of customary international law? No official system exists for discerning the “feeling” of states. The ICJ has said feeling can be “deducted from, inter alia, the attitude of the Parties and the attitude of States towards certain General Assembly resolutions.”[18] With regard to the fight against drugs, in the past fifteen years states’ declarations have slowly changed their tone, moving from the unanimous “A Drug Free World – We Can Do It” to “Isn’t time to review the global strategy against drugs?”[19] The actions and declarations in this case are as contradictory as the practice itself. Yet, there appears to be a common sentiment among most of the states: discontent with the current regime. Decriminalizing countries have shown it through their open violation of the treaty; some producing countries have done it by questioning the unequal burden of the obligations.

The cost of waiting for this new practice to become a customary norm could be too high for countries that suffer the most from the consequences of drug trafficking. Certain producing states still consider the old rule to be a valid obligation and are engaged in a costly war against drugs. The U.S.–Mexico cannabis market is a clear example of this contradictory practice. The U.S. government affirms that 60% of Mexican cartels’ income comes from the selling of marijuana.[20] Cartels use their revenues—around $13 billion—to corrupt institutions, buy sophisticated weapons, and fight the government.[21] As a consequence, in the past eight years 100,000 people have been killed, 25,000 disappeared, 45,000 soldiers are policing the streets, the Mexican government is spending $9 billion dollars a year to fight cartels, and many areas of Mexico are more dangerous than war zones. Surprisingly, at the same time, many U.S. states have decriminalized marijuana consumption. In less than sixteen years, twenty-eight states and the District of Columbia have legalized it for medical purposes, and seven have legalized its recreational consumption.[22] Moreover, the latest reports show that 51% of the American population favors its legalization.[23] Even President Barak Obama announced that the federal administration would not continue wasting resources by prosecuting individuals or trying to overturn the trend in those states that have legalized its recreational use.[24] On the contrary, he relied on the old premise of Justice Louis Brandeis that one of the characteristics of federalism and U.S. democracy is that states can serve as laboratories of “novel social and economic experiments without risk to the rest of the country.”[25] The U.S. cannabis market is calculated to be worth $14 billion, with millions of potential clients for the cartels that have caused so much damage in Mexico.[26]

In essence, the 1988 Convention created an international regime in which producing and consuming states had clear obligations. Today, the practice of some states and the inability of others to comply are shaking its foundations. As Professor Michael Glennon has stated, “No legal regime can endure if the most important proscriptions that it imposes are capable of being revised through violation by its creatures.”[27] Violation of the 1988 Convention is not yet so massive that it could overturn the entire treaty.[28] But the current tendency is disastrous for some states that cannot face the challenge of fighting the power of drug cartels without corresponding efforts in consuming countries.

Perhaps producing countries should accelerate the fall of the old regime and work to replace the battered legal structure. They could look for the consensus to relieve them of the treaty obligations that keep them trapped on the wrong side of the equation. They could seek to turn current trends to their advantage by authoring a framework in which they could export the products that today are internationally forbidden (or are supposed to be), and they could use their comparative advantage in production to generate economic development domestically. In fact, the trend is already starting. In Mexico the Supreme Court recently allowed four individuals to produce and consume marijuana for personal purposes because the Court considered the legislation that prohibited it contrary to human dignity of these individuals.[29] The global “war” on drugs could shift to a “war” on the irresponsible consumption of drugs in which the main players are no longer law enforcement agencies but health-oriented institutions led by the World Health Organization. Going further, the international community could stop focusing on production and trafficking chains and shift international attention toward fighting the negative effects of transnational crime more generally, targeting problems like corruption, drug lords’ impunity, money laundering, and illegal trafficking of weapons and human beings.

International norms are instruments of self-restraint that shape state behavior. When their objectives become obsolete, however, new agreements should take their place. After twenty-three years under the latest international agreement, drug consumption has risen, production has increased, and some states remain helpless against the power of organized crime fueled by drug money.[30] The substantial evidence that the anti-drug regime has been ineffective suggests that international law on this matter should be reexamined. Consuming states are already doing it through practice. Producing states, instead of adhering to the dogma of the current regime, should spearhead the creation of a new paradigm that is more to their advantage.


* Guillermo J. Garcia Sanchez is a doctoral candidate at Harvard Law School (S.J.D.) specializing in international adjudication, international investment law, and comparative constitutional law. Prior to joining HLS’s doctoral program in 2012, he obtained an LL.M. in International Law from the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy (2011) and a B.A in Law and a B.A. in International Relations from ITAM University in Mexico City (2009).

[1] Alonso Urrutia, La Jornada: EU debe ser congruente en sus acciones contra el narco: Calderón, La Jornada (Oct. 27, 2010), http://www.jornada.unam.mx/2010/10/27/politica/002n1pol. (translated from Spanish) (last visited Jan. 12, 2017).

[2] Id. (The declarations were made at the 12th Summit of the Tuxtla Mechanism for Cooperation and Development in Cartagena de Indias, Colombia on Oct. 26, 2010.)

[3] HARDtalk: Interview with Felipe Calderon (BBC World News broadcast Oct. 27, 2010).

[4] For a full list of the ratifying parties, see the Depositary, United Nations Treaty Collection, https://treaties.un.org/Pages/ViewDetails.aspx?src=IND&mtdsg_no=VI-19&chapter=6&clang=_en (last visited Jan. 8, 2017).

[5] United Nations Convention against Illicit Traffic in Narcotic Drugs and Psychotropic Substances art. 3.2, Dec. 20, 1988, 1582 U.N.T.S. 95.

[6] See Eduardo Jiménez de Aréchaga, International Law in the Past Third of a Century, 159 Hague Recueil 1, 64–67 (1978).

[7] The world’s first international drug control treaty, the International Opium Convention, was passed in the Hague in 1912. International Opium Convention, Jan. 23, 1912, 8 L.N.T.S. 188.

[8] U.N. General Assembly, Twentieth Special Session: A Drug-Free World: We Can Do It (June 8–10, 1998), http://www.un.org/ga/20special/.

[9] Ian Brownlie, Principles of Public International Law 510 (7th ed. 2008)

[10] Report of the International Law Commission of 1966, 2 Y.B. Int’l L. Comm’n 169, 247–49, U.N. Doc. A/6309/Rev.1.

[11] These states include California, Nevada, Oregon, Colorado, Washington, Nebraska, Mississippi, New York, Massachusetts, Maine, Connecticut, Maryland, Rhode Island, Vermont, Delaware, and Alaska, as well as the District of Columbia. Extent of decriminalization varies in each case, but the common element is the absence of incarceration for possession of small amounts and the imposition of fines instead. See Andrew Ferguson, The United States of Amerijuana, TIME Magazine (Nov. 22, 2010), at 34. For an updated version after the 2016 election see States That Have Decriminalized – NORML.org – Working to Reform Marijuana Laws, http://norml.org/aboutmarijuana/item/states-that-have-decriminalized. (last visited Jan. 12, 2017).

[12] Fernando Henrique Cardoso, Cesar Gaviria & Ernesto Zedillo, The War on Drugs is a Failure, Wall Street J. (Feb. 23, 2009), http://www.wsj.com/articles/SB123535114271444981. Curiously enough, two of these presidents, Zedillo and Cardoso, were in power during the 1998 Special Session focused on the idea that the world could end drug consumption. Former Mexican President Vicente Fox Quesada has also spoken out on decriminalization: “We should consider legalizing the production, distribution and sale of drugs. . . . Radical prohibition strategies have never worked.” Drug Addiction, Organized Crime and Security, Vicente Fox Quesada Blog (Aug. 7, 2010), http://blogvicentefox.blogspot.com/2010/08/drogadiccion-crimen-organizado-y.html (translated from Spanish) (last visited Jan. 8, 2017).

[13] OAS, OAS – Organization of American States: Democracy for peace, security, and development (2009), http://www.oas.org/en/media_center/press_release.asp?sCodigo=E-194/13 (last visited Nov. 18, 2015).

[14] Jack L. Goldsmith & Eric A. Posner, A Theory of Customary International Law, 66 U. Chi. L. Rev. 1113 (1999).

[15] Michael Wood, Formation and Evidence of Customary International Law, Address to the International Law Commission, Geneva, 30 July 2012, 12 L. & Prac. Int’l Cts. & Tribunals 273 (2013).

[16] Brownlie, supra note 9, at 8.

[17] North Sea Continental Shelf Cases (Federal Republic of Germany v. Denmark; Federal Republic of Germany v. Netherlands), 1969 I.C.J. 4, 44, ¶ 77 (Feb. 20).

[18] Military and Paramilitary Activities in and Against Nicaragua (Nicaragua v. Unites States), 1986 I.C.J. 1, ¶ 188 (June 27). See also Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons, Advisory Opinion, 1996 I.C.J. 226, ¶ 73.

[19] Juan Manuel Santos, President of Colombia, Inaugural Speech at the 12th Summit of the Tuxtla Mechanism: ¿no es hora de revisar la estrategia global frente a las drogas? (Oct. 26, 2010) (fragments of the speech available at http://www.nacion.com/2010-10-26/ElPais/UltimaHora/ElPais2568603.aspx).

[20] Office of National Drug Control Policy, The White House, National Drug Control Strategy 36 (2006).

[21] Id. The report specifies that $8.5 billion comes from marijuana trafficking and $13.8 billion comes from illegal drug trafficking overall.

[22] The states that have legalized marijuana for recreational purposes are California, Maine, Massachusetts, Nevada, Washington, Colorado, and Oregon. Ferguson, supra note 10, at 32. See also Christopher Ingraham, Marijuana Wins Big on Election Night, Washington Post (Nov. 8, 2016), https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/wonk/wp/2016/11/08/medical-marijuana-sails-to-victory-in-florida/.

[23] Lydia Saad, Majority Continues to Support Pot Legalization in U.S., Gallup.com (Nov. 6, 2014), http://www.gallup.com/poll/179195/majority-continues-support-pot-legalization.aspx (last visited Jan. 8, 2017).

[24] Ingraham, supra note 22. For a previous similar declaration, see Niraj Chokshi, Obama on Marijuana Legalization: ‘My Suspicion Is That You’re Gonna See Other States Start Looking at This’, The Washington Post (Jan. 22, 2015), https://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/govbeat/wp/2015/01/22/obama-on-marijuana-legalization-my-suspicion-is-that-youre-gonna-see-other-states-start-looking-at-this/ (last visited Jan. 8, 2017).

[25] New State Ice Co. v. Liebmann, 285 U.S. 262 (1932) (arguing that a state may, “if its citizens choose, serve as a laboratory; and try novel social and economic experiments without risk to the rest of the country”).

[26] Katie Sola, Legal U.S. Marijuana Market Will Grow To $7.1 Billion In 2016, Forbes (Apr. 19, 2016), http://www.forbes.com/sites/katiesola/2016/04/19/legal-u-s-marijuana-market-will-grow-to-7-1-billion-in-2016-report/. (last visited Jan 12, 2017)

[27] Michael Glennon, Limits of Law, Prerogatives of Power: Intervention after Kosovo 127 (2011).

[28] See Michael Glennon, “Why the Security Council Failed,” Foreign Affairs, May/June 2003 (describing displacement of old laws through violations).

[29] Elisabeth Malkin & Azam Ahmed, Ruling in Mexico Sets Into Motion Legal Marijuana, New York Times (Nov. 4, 2015), http://www.nytimes.com/2015/11/05/world/americas/mexico-supreme-court-marijuana-ruling.html (last visited Jan. 8, 2017).

[30] United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime, Use of drugs World Drug Report (2015).

Online Scholarship

Beyond the Horizon of Banking Regulation: What to Expect from Basel IV

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By Luca Amorello*

I. The Basel III Framework Six Years Later

The formalization in 2010 of the Basel III regulatory framework,[1] aimed at strengthening the resilience of internationally active banks, was one of the major accomplishments of the Basel Committee on Banking Supervision (“BCBS”) and its national participants.[2] Basel III amply satisfied the promise of G20 leaders to catalyze their policy efforts in order to establish a multi-dimensional regulatory regime for global banks.[3]

For the first time, the microeconomic dimension of prudential rules came to be surrounded by a macro-prudential layer intended to target systemic risks,[4] while concerns over liquidity shortages in bad times led regulators to establish standards for liquidity coverage[5] and stable funding.[6] Moreover, the deployment of a leverage ratio,[7] along with the implementation of extended disclosure requirements,[8] set the stage for limiting risk-taking behaviors and empowering market discipline.

Over the last few years, G20 countries have sought to implement the whole banking reform at the national level and have hailed the structural changes of banks’ capital and liquidity as a great achievement.[9] The expansion of the regulatory boundaries pursued by Basel III has been regarded, in fact, as a decisive step toward establishing a well functioning, level playing field for banks,[10] which can now compete at the global level, having internalized the costs of their risk-related misbehaviors.

Certainly, the implementation of the Basel III framework came at a significant price. Compliance with the new prudential provisions required banks to sustain tremendous costs for recapitalization and risk management improvements. Some banks preferred to re-size their balance sheets, cutting billions of dollars of assets and rebalancing their portfolios.[11] Over time, this structural transformation has had an impact for the whole economy, resulting in a decline in credit availability for the real economy.[12]

One may wonder whether the overall benefits provided by Basel III in terms of stability of the financial system and resilience of its components outweigh these costs. Several studies sought to make this analysis by forecasting the overall impact of Basel III on the banking industry and the real economy.[13] The results of these studies have not always been consistent, and they have produced several different answers.

What is certain, however, is that today the Basel III framework is under international pressure. Only a few years after the enactment of Basel III, critics have highlighted concerns about the fundamental underpinnings of its prudential rules. And, more importantly, international policymakers are already at work to reframe some of its most significant components in response to these criticisms.

II. The Limits of Basel III

Despite general support from the global community, Basel III has not been free of criticism. Immediately after its introduction, a number of scholars and officers started questioning its effectiveness in addressing idiosyncratic and systemic risks.[14] The main arguments against the effectiveness of Basel III framework move along four lines: (a) the extreme complexity of the Basel III requirements; (b) the continuing reliance on internal model-based regulation to calculate capital requirements; (c) the failure to fully capture a number of off-balance sheet risks; and (d) the incompleteness of the disclosure requirements.

A. The complexity of the Basel III framework

In a notable speech, Andrew Haldane, Bank of England Executive Director, described the intricate structure of Basel III, arguing that the new prudential provisions resulted in:

“a ballooning in the number of estimated risk weights. For a large, complex bank, this has meant a rise in the number of calculations required from single figures a generation ago to several million today (Haldane (2011)).

That increases opacity. It also raises questions about regulatory robustness since it places reliance on a large number of estimated parameters. Across the banking book, a large bank might need to estimate several thousand default probability and loss-given-default parameters . . . To turn these into regulatory capital requirements, the number of parameters increases by another order of magnitude. . . .

This degree of complexity complicates greatly the task for investors pricing banks’ financial instruments. For example, serious concerns have been expressed about the opacity of the Basel risk weights and their consistency across firms (Haldane (2011), Le Leslé and Avramova (2012)). Their granularity makes it close to impossible to account for differences across banks. It also provides near-limitless scope for arbitrage.

This degree of complexity also raises serious questions about the robustness of the regulatory framework given its degree of over-parameterisation. This million-dimension parameter set is based on the in-sample statistical fit of models drawn from short historical samples. If previous studies tell us it may take 250 years of data for a complex asset pricing model to beat a simple one, it is difficult to imagine how long a sample would be needed to justify a million-digit parameter set.[15]

Against this backdrop, the massive structure of Basel III can hardly be seen as an efficient and rational framework.

B. The continuing reliance on internal model-based regulation to calculate capital requirements

Since Basel II became effective in 2008, banks have been allowed to use their own internal models for the calculation of their funds and capital requirements, subject to approval by the competent authorities.[16] Banks that use their own models instead of the standardized approach uniformly set by the BCBS are permitted to estimate fundamental credit risk parameters—such as exposure at default (“ED”), loss given default (“LGD”), probability of default (“PD”), and maturity (“M”)—relying on their own assessment of exposures and counterparties’ creditworthiness.

The use of internal models by global banks, permitted under and incentivized by the Basel II framework, has resulted in a number of negative spillover effects. A number of analytical studies show how banks using these models can easily play with their own estimates in order to reduce the amount of capital required to be put aside.[17] These internal models, in fact, do not always reflect the underlying credit risks of different exposures and may foster regulatory capital arbitrage on a massive scale.

The Basel III framework does not significantly question the reliability of the internal risk model approach to capital regulation. Internationally active banks are therefore incentivized, even under Basel III, to use their own risk models for the purpose of calculating their prudential requirements, in view of the inherent capital savings and competitive advantages.[18]

C. The inability to fully capture a number of on- and off-balance sheet risks

The calculation of capital requirements is basically constructed around three typologies of idiosyncratic risks, namely credit risk, market risk, and operational risk. The Basel III standards—under either the standardized or the internal risk model approach—seek to provide sensitive methodologies for the determination of each of these risks.

In order to enhance risk coverage of off-balance sheet activities, the Basel III framework introduced specific metrics for measuring counterparty credit risk related to trading book and complex securitization exposures, along with derivatives, repurchase agreements, and securities financing transactions.[19]

However, although Basel III represents a praiseworthy effort to better detect the potential build-up of these risks, its provisions have fallen short of fully capturing residual risks,[20] such as interest rate risk arising from non-trading activities.[21] The failure to provide a consistent picture of these residual risks under the current framework challenges the overall reliability of the risk-weighted capital requirements as set out by the BCBS.[22]

D. The incompleteness of the disclosure requirements

To provide a common set of data on the capital and liquidity adequacy of banks to market participants and thus enhance market discipline, Basel III included the Pillar 3 disclosure requirements. For a banking entity of any risk profile, the Basel Committee set out common principles and templates that allow stakeholders to conduct cross-jurisdictional comparisons among banks on business models, prudential metrics, risk management, and governance performance.[23]

Basel III’s disclosure requirements define clear reporting methodologies and disclosure frequencies, aiming in particular at improving the granularity of the prudential data to be released and the transparency of relevant banking activities. However, critics have raised concerns about the lack of disclosure requirements for certain pivotal information.[24] The absence of information on banks’ internal risk models and on the validation of their risk metrics, along with the lack of disclosure of a number of ratios concerning their performance and profitability, may leave room for market uncertainty among financial analysts and investors.

III. The Rise of the “Basel IV Momentum”

In one of his keynote speeches, William Coen, Secretary General of the Basel Committee, compared the Basel III framework to a bridge, which requires not only solid construction, but also regular maintenance. In particular:

“Bridges are complex to design and build. They must be sympathetic to their surroundings and their design and construction rely on the expertise of many parties. […] As strong bridges bring prosperity, weak bridges can undermine it. A weak bridge jeopardises the safety of those crossing it, and may create wider problems for society at large. A loss of confidence in a structure or its builders shakes confidence in every similar structure. These knock-on effects can be severe and persistent. So it is essential that a bridge, like the Basel framework, is built to last. We must also not forget the importance of regular maintenance. The Harbour Bridge opened with four traffic lanes but now has eight, together with a complementary tunnel. Some parts are repainted every five years, while others last as long as 30 years. We face the same imperatives with the Basel framework. Maintenance does not imply re-opening every previous decision; we understand the importance of stability and certainty. But it does mean staying vigilant to market developments and keeping in mind the increasingly widespread use of the Basel framework.”[25]

The significance of this statement is twofold. On one hand, a complex regulatory architecture, such as the one of Basel III, requires continuing adjustments over time due to market innovations and industry developments. On the other hand, the BCBS recognizes its policy limitations and seems to suggest that Basel III should not appear as a complete regulatory framework. Rather, it represents, in essence, an ever-evolving system[26] that should balance the stability of its normative content with evolving understanding of its policy foundations. In other words, there is no certainty about the right methodology for capturing idiosyncratic and systemic risks and, thus, for assessing banks’ capital and liquidity adequacy. When gaps and weaknesses are found in the application of the prudential framework, international policymakers should re-discuss the premises of their previous work and, accordingly, lay down new regulatory proposals that might better capture the externalities of market behaviors.

Over the last two years, in acknowledging its past policy-making limitations, the BCBS has followed this path. As of 2014, several regulatory adjustments to the Basel III framework have been made, and public consultations by BCBS on these new proposals have been carried out to gauge market reactions.

Some examples are worth noting. In December 2015, the BCBS consulted on revisions to the standardized approach for credit risk.[27] Additionally, in January 2016, the BCBS published a revised market risk framework which is intended to supersede the one laid down in Basel III.[28]

For the same purpose, in March 2016, the BCBS launched an effort to revise the standardized approach for calculating operational risk[29] and proposed changes to the Basel III internal ratings-based approaches[30] in order to reduce variations in credit risk-weighted assets. In the same month, the BCBS published its consultative document on consolidated and enhanced Pillar 3 disclosure requirements[31] aimed at addressing disclosure shortcomings found in the Basel III framework.

In April 2016, the BCBS also issued a revised version of the leverage ratio requirement[32] and new standards regarding the management and supervision of interest rate risk in the banking book.[33] Moreover, in July 2016 the same Committee published updated standards for the regulatory treatment of securitization exposures.[34]

Against this newly emerging effort by international regulators, financial markets have begun to wonder whether these regulatory revisions are not just ordinary maintenance of the Basel III framework, but rather the foundation of a new, complex prudential package—a “Basel IV” framework.[35]

Rumors about this “Basel IV package” are gaining momentum, and market expectations seem to suggest that Basel IV is likely to come.[36] Due to the number of reform proposals published already by the BCBS, there are considerable reasons to believe that the new Basel IV package, once implemented, will overturn the main components of Basel III framework and shake the global banking industry at its foundations.

IV. Selected Elements of the Basel IV Package

If these indications about a future Basel IV package are accurate, it is of outmost importance to figure out what are likely to be its main components. In view of the criticisms of the Basel III framework, and considering some of the reform proposals issued over the last few years by the BCBS, the following elements are likely to be considered in the future prudential package: (A) the total loss-absorbing capacity requirements; (B) standardized and internal model-based approaches; (C) operational, interest rate, and step-in risks; (D) sovereign risk; (E) large exposures and concentration; (F) securitization; (G) additional macroprudential instruments; and (H) enhanced disclosure requirements.

A. G-SIIs and TLAC

The primary focus of Basel IV is most likely to be on the quantitative and qualitative re-modulation of capital requirements for Global Systemically Important Institutions (“G-SIIs”). Not only will banks be required to hold an increased minimum of their own funds and additional capital buffers,[37] but G-SIIs will also be required to adopt prudential rules implementing at the international level the principles of “total loss-absorbing capacity” (“TLAC”), as developed by the Financial Stability Board (“FSB”), in consultation with the BCBS, at the end of 2014.[38]

These principles are meant to enhance the recapitalization capacity of G-SII banks in periods of severe stress and resolution, re-shape banks’ going concern capital base, and constrain leverage.[39] To this end, banks will be required to hold a quantitatively and qualitatively prescribed set of long-term debt instruments, which are expected to be written down or converted into equity during the resolution of a failed institution. Along with the issuance of these new instruments, banks will have to comply with minimum capital ratios based on the group level’s consolidated risk-weighted assets.[40]

Although TLAC cannot be considered a revised version of the Basel III capital requirements—as it is supposed to constitute an add-on requirement for G-SIIs already subject to the Basel III prudential standards—the actual implementation of these provisions will require consistency in the calibration of both frameworks. In view of this, Basel IV will need to align a number of Basel III provisions with the TLAC regulatory package, particularly with regard to the eligibility of capital instruments, deduction approaches, and holdings restrictions.[41]

B. Standardized Approach vs. Internal Rating-Based Approach

As noted above, one of the main criticisms of Basel III framework has been the level of complexity underlying the capital requirements calculation. Banks’ use of internal rating-based models to arbitrage away minimum capital requirements has highlighted the excessive parameterization of risk variables.

Against this backdrop, Basel IV is expected to revisit the scope of internal model-based rules in the calculation of risk-weights. The new prudential package will likely limit banks’ use of internal models to estimate risk variables, giving preference instead to an augmented standardized approach that may better capture the vast array of exposure risks and improve comparability among banks.[42]

To further this purpose, future proposals will introduce floors for credit risk parameters to reduce distortions on the determination of the EAD, LGD, and PD.[43] In addition, credit risk mitigation techniques are likely to be reformulated in order to avoid excessive capital deductions.

Credit counterparty risk and market risk frameworks will probably be revisited along the same lines. For a number of derivatives classes and long settlement transactions, the credit counterparty risk will be measured primarily by relying on the standardized approach developed by the BCBS in March 2014.[44]

For market risk, minimum capital requirements will be calculated by either a revised internal model approach or a revised standardized approach, which would permit a more sensitive capitalization of material risk factors across banks while limiting the capital-reducing effects of hedging and diversification.[45] In addition, market risk will no longer be based on a Value at Risk (“VaR”) methodology, but rather on an Expected Shortfalls (“ES”) approach, which will help banks capture tail risks and capital adequacy in periods of severe market stress.[46]

Finally, in order to clarify the regulatory boundaries between the trading book and banking book of credit institutions and to reduce the related risk of arbitrage, the BCBS will implement new definitions for the instruments deemed to be held either on the banking book or the trading book.[47]

C. Operational, Interest Rate, and Step-in Risk

The BCBS has advocated revisions to the operational risk framework laid down in Basel III, since that framework is considered relatively ineffective.[48] Modeling practices used for operational risk measurement are excessively complex and provide for wide variability in capital results, which undermines the comparability of capital results among banks.

To address this concern, the BCBS revealed a revised operational risk framework in March 2016, and its principles are likely to constitute a prominent component of the Basel IV package.[49] The innovative feature of this proposal lies in the use of a single, non-model-based standardized measurement approach (“SMA”) for calculating operational risk capital.

The newly-founded methodology will introduce a Business Indicator (“BI”) and an Internal Loss Multiplier (“ILM”), which are deemed to reflect individual firms’ past operational losses as a proxy for operational capital needs.[50] This simplified methodology is intended to enhance banks’ risk management practices and help build extra cushions of capital against subsets of operational risks, such as legal,[51] misconduct,[52] and climate risks,[53] which may easily endanger the viability of credit institutions.

By the same token, Basel IV is expected to revisit the framework for capturing interest rate risk. As a foundation for this, in April 2016 the BCBS updated its principles on interest rate risk in the banking book, setting out methods that banks should use for measuring, managing, monitoring, and controlling this risk typology.[54] In addition, further BCBS proposals on market risk are expected in the near future.

Finally, it is worth noting that the BCBS has published a conceptual framework that could form the theoretical background for setting up a prudential approach aiming at identifying, assessing, and addressing so-called “step-in risk.”[55] Step-in-Risk is the risk underlying the relationship between a bank and shadow banking entities for which the bank may provide financial support beyond or in the absence of any contractual obligations in periods of financial distress.[56]

The BCBS proposal focuses on identifying unconsolidated entities that could generate significant step-in risk for banks. For this purpose, it sets out potential approaches that could be used to reflect step-in risk in banks’ prudential requirements. Although the development of such framework is at an early stage and its basic contours are only preliminary,[57] it is easy to assume that the Basel IV package will incorporate this risk category as one of its innovative prudential profiles.

D. Sovereign Risk

The Basel IV framework is also likely to reflect the outcome of the ongoing policy discussions on special prudential treatment of sovereign bonds.[58] In particular, a number of national policymakers are urging the BCBS to remove the zero risk-weight exemptions for sovereign exposures currently permitted under Basel III.[59]

The magnitude of sovereign risk and its spillover effects have been at the center of policy attention following the severe deterioration of Greek, Irish, Portuguese, Spanish, and Italian government bonds during the Euro zone debt crisis.[60] In the meantime, a number of proposals have been laid out to restructure the regulatory benefits that banks enjoy in investing in these assets, especially in terms of concentration limits and the securitization of sovereign bond pools.[61]

At this stage it is not possible to determine what might be the likely outcome of this policy debate due to the variety of options available. However, a BCBS consultation paper on this subject is expected in the upcoming months.[62] Although the concrete implementation of these rules may take years, this proposal will certainly advocate for a non-risk-free approach to sovereign exposures, with tremendous consequences for countries’ financing, banks’ purchase incentives, and wholesale funding.[63]       

E. Large Exposures and Concentration

In April 2014 the BCBS published its final supervisory framework on measuring and controlling large exposures as a backstop to risk-weighted capital requirements.[64] These new provisions are intended to provide a common minimum standard to capture and mitigate concentration risk, including a general cap on exposures to single counterparties set at 25% of bank’s Tier 1 capital. For G-SIIs this limit is set at 15% for exposures to other G-SIIs.[65]

This large exposure framework is expected to be applied as of 2019 and will overrule the previous standards on large exposures set out in 1991.[66] More importantly, the new focus on concentration risk will supplement the revisions of the prudential framework expected under Basel IV, serving as a simple backstop to risk-weighted capital requirements. 

F. Securitization

Another notable element of the likely Basel IV package relates to securitization. In order to refine the Basel III provisions on securitization, which date back to the Basel II era, in July 2016 the BCBS published a final paper setting out the regulatory treatment for capitalizing securitization exposures.[67]

Based on this paper, a number of innovations are expected to be introduced for the purpose of calculating capital requirements. The framework aims at reducing complexity by limiting the number of approaches accepted for determining securitization capital. To this end, it favors the internal ratings-based approach in order to reduce the mechanistic reliance on external ratings.[68]

Although this new framework is considered to be part of Basel III, given the number of substantial changes proposed and the timeframe for implementation (January 2018),[69] it is more appropriate to conceptualize it as a complementary element of the Basel IV credit risk revisions described above.

G. Macroprudential Miscellanea

Beyond the microprudential proposals outlined thus far, the Basel IV package could incorporate a number of new macroprudential instruments, which would complete the countercyclical regulatory dimension introduced with Basel III.

As part of such an effort, not only can exposure-based capital surcharges for G-SIIs and other credit institutions be implemented, but real estate tools, such as loan-to-value and debt-to-income caps, could also be developed in the near future by the BCBS.[70] In view of the concerns expressed about global real estate market dynamics,[71] a number of proposals are likely to focus on curbing excessive growth in commercial and residential real estate and limiting excessive credit incentives for both lenders and borrowers.

In addition, the Basel IV framework could incorporate a macroprudential stress testing framework for liquidity and solvency risks.[72] The outcome of these macro stress tests—either on single banks or on the entire financial system—could then be used by competent authorities to impose additional liquidity surcharges or solvency requirements.[73]

H. Enhanced Disclosure

Finally, in order to reflect the number of regulatory changes proposed under the Basel IV package, it is likely that the Basel III disclosure framework will be amended accordingly. The new disclosure requirements are expected to provide deeper insights into capital and liquidity ratios to inform the market about any given bank’s risk profile.

As a result, additional disclosure rules will seek to provide more granular data on, in particular, banks’ loss-absorbing capacity and operational and market risk management at both the individual and aggregate level. The foundations of this enhanced disclosure regime can be found in the consultative document on Pillar 3 disclosure requirements published by the Basel Committee in March 2016.[74]

V. Conclusions: A Disruptive Impact for the Global Banking Industry?

If all these proposals were implemented, what would remain of the Basel III framework? Not much. The adoption of these proposals as supplementary prudential standards would override the core components of Basel III, setting the stage for a radical reformulation of banking law throughout the world. If this holds true, market participants need to ponder the implications of these regulatory reforms on the banking industry as a whole.[75]

Compliance with Basel III imposed substantial costs on credit institutions. The array of regulatory changes introduced by the BCBS in 2011 required banks to adjust not only their capital and liquidity structure, but also their business models, governance structure, and investment strategies.[76] Although compliance with these requirements has provided certain benefits in terms of resilience and stability of the financial system, the associated regulatory costs have, no doubt, weakened the lending capacity of individual banks.[77] And, along with an environment of low interest rates, the reduced lending capacity may have, in turn, negative spillover effects on banks’ profitability.[78]

In this evolving scenario, the implications of a future Basel IV package might be overwhelming. One the one hand, the likely simplification of risk-weighting and parameter calculations could provide some compliance cost savings to banks. On the other hand, limitations on the use of internal risk models for the purpose of capital requirements, along with the general increase of prudential buffers, could further undercut the viability of banking activities.[79] In such a regulatory environment, further costly adjustments on risk management and the governance structure will follow in the upcoming years, while the current rise of new lending providers, such as peer-to-peer landing platforms[80] and lending companies, might pose additional burdens to banks’ competitiveness.

For now, whether the future macroeconomic benefits of the Basel IV package for society as a whole are likely to outweigh the microeconomic costs for individual institutions is a matter of speculation.[81] Nevertheless, shedding some light on the ongoing debate concerning the premises of Basel IV is certainly instrumental in understanding what lies beyond the horizon of banking regulation.


* Luca Amorello is a 2017 LLM Candidate at Harvard Law School and Doctoral Candidate in Law and Economics of Money and Finance at Goethe University of Frankfurt.

[1] BCBS, Basel III: A Global Regulatory Framework for More Resilient Banks and Banking Systems (rev. 2011) [hereinafter BCBS, Basel III: A Global Regulatory Framework]. For a thorough analysis of Basel III capital and liquidity standards, see Basel III and Beyond: A Guide to Banking Regulation After the Crisis (Francesco Cannata & Mario Quagliariello, eds., 2011); Michael S. Barr, Howell E. Jackson & Margaret E. Tahyar, Financial Regulation: Law and Policy (2016), 307–332. For a discussion on the implementation of Basel III prudential framework, inter alia, see Peter King & Heath Tarbert, Basel III: An Overview, Banking & Fin. Serv. Pol. Rep. (May 2011), at 1–18.

[2] The institutions represented in the BCBS are the Central Bank of Argentina (Argentina), the Reserve Bank of Australia and Australian Prudential Regulation Authority (Australia), the National Bank of Belgium (Belgium), the Central Bank of Brazil (Brazil), the Bank of Canada and Office of the Superintendent of Financial Institutions (Canada), the People’s Bank of China and China Banking Regulatory Commission (China), the European Central Bank (EU), the Bank of France and the Prudential Supervision and Resolution Authority (France), the Deutsche Bundesbank and Federal Financial Supervisory Authority (BaFin) (Germany), the Hong Kong Monetary Authority (Hong Kong), the Reserve Bank of India (India), the Bank Indonesia and Indonesia Financial Services Authority (Indonesia), the Bank of Italy (Italy), the Bank of Japan and Financial Services Agency (Japan), the Bank of Korea and Financial Supervisory Service (Korea), the Surveillance Commission for the Financial Sector (Luxembourg), the Bank of Mexico and Comisión Nacional Bancaria y de Valores (Mexico), the Netherlands Bank (Netherlands), the Central Bank of the Russian Federation (Russia), the Saudi Arabian Monetary Agency (Saudi Arabia), the Monetary Authority of Singapore (Singapore), South African Reserve Bank (South Africa), the Bank of Spain (Spain), the Sveriges Riksbank and Finansinspektionen (Sweden), the Swiss National Bank and Swiss Financial Market Supervisory Authority (FINMA) (Switzerland), the Central Bank of the Republic of Turkey and Banking Regulation and Supervision Agency (Turkey), the Bank of England and Prudential Regulation Authority (UK), the Board of Governors of the Federal Reserve System, Federal Reserve Bank of New York, Office of the Comptroller of the Currency, and Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation (USA). The observers are the Central Bank of Chile and Banking and Financial Institutions Supervisory Agency (Chile), the Central Bank of Malaysia (Malaysia), the Central Bank of the United Arab Emirates (UAE), the Bank for International Settlement, the Basel Consultative Group, the European Commission (EU), the European Banking Authority (EU), and the International Monetary Fund.

[3] See Daniel K. Tarullo, Speech at the Clearing House Business Meeting and Conference: The Evolution of Capital Regulation (Nov. 9, 2011) (arguing that prudential regulation must be multi-dimensional and rigorous in each of its constituent parts).

[4] BCBS, Basel III: A Global Regulatory Framework, supra note 1, at 2. For an overview of the macroprudential dimension of Basel III framework, see Andrew Baker, The Gradual Transformation? The Incremental Dynamics of Macroprudential Regulation, 7 Reg. & Governance 417, 426–28 (2013). For a wider discussion on macroprudential approach to banking regulation, see Samuel G. Hanson, Anil K. Kashyap & Jeremy C. Stein, A Macroprudential Approach to Financial Regulation, 25 J. of Econ. Perspectives 3, 3–28 (2011).

[5] See BCBS, Liquidity Coverage Ratio and Liquidity Risk Monitoring Tools (Jan. 2013). For an in-depth legal analysis of the Basel III liquidity coverage requirement, see Andrew W. Hartlage, The Basel III Liquidity Coverage Ratio and Financial Stability, 111 Mich. L. Rev. 453 (2012).

[6] See BCBS, Basel III: The Net Stable Funding Ratio (Oct. 2014). For a discussion of the Basel III net stable funding ratio, see Jeanne Gobat, Mamoru Yanase & Joseph Maloney, The Net Stable Funding Ratio: Impact and Issues for Consideration (Intl. Monetary Fund, Working Paper No. 14/106, 2014); Michael R. King, The Basel III Net Stable Funding Ratio and Bank Net Interest Margins, 37 J. of Banking & Fin. 4144 (2013).

[7] See BCBS, Basel III Leverage Ratio Framework and Disclosure Requirements (Jan. 2014).

[8] See BCBS, Revised Pillar 3 Disclosure Requirements (Jan. 2015).

[9] In particular, G20 leaders endorsed the Basel III regulatory framework at their 2010 Summit in Seoul. For more details, see G20 Seoul Summit Document, Seoul, South Korea (Nov. 12, 2010), at point 29: “We endorsed the landmark agreement reached by the BCBS on the new bank capital and liquidity framework, which increases the resilience of the global banking system by raising the quality, quantity and international consistency of bank capital and liquidity, constrains the build-up of leverage and maturity mismatches, and introduces capital buffers above the minimum requirements that can be drawn upon in bad times.”

[10] The establishment of a global level playing field for banks has been one of the main drivers of Basel reforms on prudential regulation since the adoption of the Basel I Accord. See BCBS, International Convergence of Capital Measurement and Capital Standards (July 1988) (stating that the “framework should be in fair and have a high degree of consistency in its application to banks in different countries with a view to diminishing an existing source of competitive inequality among international banks”). However, to what extent this level playing field has been actually achieved is debatable. For a critical analysis of the desirability of a level playing fields in international financial regulation, see Alan D. Morrison & Lucy White, Level Playing Fields in International Financial Regulation, 64 J. of Fin. 1099 (2009).

[11] For an overview of how Wall Street banks are changing their capital structure and business in view of Basel III prudential reforms, see Victoria McGrane & Julie Steinberg, Wall Street Adapts to New Regulatory Regime, Wall Street J. (July 21, 2014), http://www.wsj.com/articles/wall-street-adapts-to-new-regulatory-regime-1405951482 (last visited Oct. 12, 2016). For example, Goldman Sachs decided to cut its business ties to hedge funds and moved to less profitable clients in order to adjust its balance sheet structure to the new prudential framework. See Justin Baer & Juliet Chung, Goldman Sachs Cuts Roster of Hedge-Fund Clients, Wall Street J. (Aug. 4, 2014), http://www.wsj.com/articles/goldman-rethinks-services-it-provides-hedge-funds-1407194493 (last visited Oct. 13, 2016). For the same reasons, since 2013 Deutsche Bank has taken steps to reduce the size of its balance sheet. For a detailed explanation of the prudential adjustment that Deutsche Bank is intended to pursue in the upcoming years to comply with the Basel III requirements, see Press Release, Deutsche Bank, Deutsche Bank Announces Details of Strategy 2020 (Oct. 29, 2015), https://www.db.com/newsroom_news/2015/medien/deutsche-bank-announces-details-of-strategy-2020-en-11247.htm.

[12] Since 2010, the BCBS has conducted a number of comprehensive quantitative studies on the impact of Basel III on banks, finding a substantial decrease in credit availability for the real economy due to the higher capital and liquidity requirements. See, e.g., BCBS, Results of the Comprehensive Quantitative Impact Study (Dec. 2010).

[13] A number of empirical studies have found a consistent relationship between higher capital requirements and lower economic growth. For a survey, see Natalya Martynova, Effect of Bank Capital Requirements on Economic Growth: A Survey (De Nederlandsche Bank, Working Paper No. 467, 2015); Paolo Angelini et al., Basel III: Long-term Impact on Economic Performance and Fluctuations, 83 The Manchester School 217 (2015); Patrick Slovik & Boris Cournède, Macroeconomic Impact of Basel III (Org. for Econ. Cooperation & Dev. Econ. Dept., Working Paper No. 844, 2011).

[14] See, e.g., Bill Allen Kai Ke Chan & Alistair Milne, Basel III: Is the Cure Worse Than the Disease?, 25 Intl. Rev. of Fin. Analysis 159 (2012); Ahmed Al-Darwish et al., Possible Unintended Consequences of Basel III and Solvency II (Intl. Monetary Fund, Working Paper No. 187, Aug. 2011); Thomas M. Hoenig, Vice Chairman, Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, Remarks at the International Association of Deposit Insurers 2013 Research Conference: Basel III Capital: A Well-Intended Illusion (Apr. 9, 2013).

[15] Andrew G. Haldane, Speech at the Federal Reserve Bank of Kansas City’s 36th Economic Policy Symposium: The Dog and the Frisbee (Aug. 31, 2012).

[16] See BCBS, International Convergence of Capital Measurement and Capital Standards: A Revised Framework ¶¶ 48–49 (June 2004). For an analytical explanation of the internal-ratings based models allowed by the Basel II framework, see Hugh Thomas & Zhiqiang Wang, Interpreting the Internal Ratings-Based Capital Requirements in Basel II, 6 J. of Banking Reg., 274 (2005).

[17] See, e.g., Markus Behn, Rainer Haselmann & Vikrant Vig, The Limits of Model-Based Regulation (Eur. Central Bank, Working Paper No. 1928, 2016); Matthew C. Plosser & João A. C. Santos, Banks’ Incentives and the Quality of Internal Risk Models (Fed. Res. Bank of New York, Staff Report No. 704, 2014).

[18] For an overview of the competitive advantages provided by the internal ratings-based models, see BCBS, Results of the Fifth Quantitative Impact Study (QIS 5) §§ 2.1 & 2.2 (June 2006) (showing a substantial decline in minimum required capital in aggregate for banks using this regulatory approach).

[19] See BCBS, supra note 1, at 29–51.

[20] For details, see Wayne Byres, Remarks at the Financial Stability Institute’s 6th Biennial Conference on Risk Management and Supervision: Basel III: Necessary, but Not Sufficient 6–7 (Nov. 6, 2012).

[21] For this reason the BCBS proposed a consultation on new regulatory standards to manage interest rate risk in the banking book. See BCBS, Interest Rate Risk in the Banking Book – Consultative Document (June 2015).

[22] See Connel Fullenkamp & Céline Rochon, Reconsidering Bank Capital Regulation: A New Combination of Rules, Regulators, and Market Discipline 3–9 (Intl. Monetary Fund, Working Paper No. 169, 2014) (raising doubts on the overall effectiveness of the Basel III risk-weighting framework in capturing risks).

[23] See BCBS, Revised Pillar 3 Disclosure Requirements, supra note 8.

[24] From the industry side, in particular see Wilfried Wilms, Remarks at the XBRL Week in Brussels, National Bank of Belgium: The Dark Side of the Basel Committee’s Pillar 3 Framework, (Nov. 25, 2014). See also Constantinos Stephanou, Rethinking Market Discipline in Banking Lessons from the Financial Crisis (World Bank, Policy Research Paper No. 5227, 2013). It is interesting to note that the criticisms of the Basel III disclosure framework do not seem to be addressed by the last reform of disclosure standards proposed by the BCBS in 2016 and briefly discussed in the next few sections. For an analysis of the proposed reforms, see Comment Letter Submitted by the Global Financial Market Association, the Institute of International Finance, and the International Swaps and Derivatives Association to the BCBS, Re: BCBS Consultative Document: Pillar 3 disclosure requirements – consolidated and enhanced framework (June 10, 2016), http://www.gfma.org/correspondence/item.aspx?id=825.

[25] William Coen, Secretary General of the Basel Committee, Keynote Speech at the Australian Financial Review’s Banking and Wealth Summit: The Global Policy Reform Agenda: Completing the Job (Apr. 5, 2016).

[26] To better understand, from an historical perspective, the ever-evolving nature of the Basel prudential requirements, see Damiano Guadalupi, The Ever-Evolving Basel Accord, in Retail Credit Risk Management 13–58 (Mario Anolli et al., eds., 2013).

[27] See BCBS, Revisions to the Standardised Approach for Credit RiskSecond Consultative Document (Dec. 2015).

[28] See BCBS, Minimum Capital Requirements for Market Risk (Jan. 2016).

[29] See BCBS, Standardised Measurement Approach for Operational Risk – Consultative Document (Mar. 2016).

[30]See BCBS, Reducing Variation in Credit Risk-Weighted Assets – Constraints on the Use of Internal Model Approaches (Mar. 2016).

[31] See BCBS, Pillar 3 Disclosure Requirements – Consolidated and Enhanced Framework – Consultative Document (Mar. 2016).

[32] See BCBS, Revisions to the Basel III Leverage Ratio Framework – Consultative Document (Apr. 2016).

[33] See BCBS, Interest Rate Risk in the Banking Book (Apr. 2016).

[34] See BCBS, Revisions to the Securitisation Framework (July 2016).

[35] However, there is a current debate on whether these new proposals will set the stage for a new Basel IV package. Officers from different national and international authorities tend to downsize the prudential implications of these proposals, arguing that the idea of a Basel IV regulatory framework is just speculative. See Boris Groendahl, Carney Says News of Basel’s Next Big Wave Isn’t Fit to Print, Bloomberg (Dec. 1, 2015), http://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2015-12-01/carney-dismisses-basel-iv-talk-as-regulator-meets-in-new-york (last visited Oct. 14, 2016). However, in view of the number of proposals published by the BCBS, it seems rather difficult to support these claims.

[36] The reality of a proper Basel IV framework is fueled by market expectations, which see in the regulatory moves of the BCBS the incoming architecture of this new prudential package. For example, see Laura Noonan, Basel IV Spectre Looms for Battle-Worn Bankers, Fin. Times (Mar. 14, 2016), https://www.ft.com/content/a9d6eb94-ce5d-11e5-831d-09f7778e7377 (last visited Oct. 14, 2016).

[37] For an estimate of this capital increase, see KPMG, Banks’ Strategies and Business Models: Capital Myths and Realities 6–7 (July 2016).

[38] FSB, Principles on Loss-Absorbing and Recapitalisation Capacity of G-SIBs in Resolution: Total Loss Absorbing Capacity (TLAC) Term Sheet (Nov. 9, 2015). To this end, the BCBS has recently launched a consultation on TLAC holdings. For details, see BCBS, TLAC Holdings – Consultative Document (Nov. 2015).

[39] For a quantitative study on the impact of TLAC reform on GSIIs’ capital base and leverage, see BCBS, TLAC Quantitative Impact Study (QIS) Report (Nov. 2015).

[40] FSB, supra note 38, at 10. For an overview of the TLAC implementing proposal in US, see Total Loss-Absorbing Capacity, Long-Term Debt, and Clean Holding Company Requirements, 80 Fed. Reg. 74,925 (proposed Nov. 30, 2015) (to be codified at 12 C.F.R. pts. 217 & 252). For a discussion of the implementation of the TLAC reform in EU, see Benoit Mesnard, Briefing, Loss Absorbing Capacity in the Banking Union: TLAC Implementation and MREL Review, European Parliament, PE 574.408 (July 7, 2016).

[41] For this purpose, in November 2015 the BCBS published a document on TLAC that proposes changes in the calculation of regulatory capital for all G-SIIs. See BCBS, TLAC Holdings – Consultative Document (Nov. 2015).

[42] See BCBS, Revisions to the Standardised Approach for Credit Risk, supra note 27, at 3–4.

[43] On the issue, see BCBS, Capital Floors: the Design of a Framework based on Standardised ApproachesConsultative Document (Dec. 2014).

[44] This framework is developed in BCBS, The Standardised Approach for Measuring Counterparty Credit Risk Exposures (Mar. 2014).

[45] For details, see BCBS, Minimum Capital Requirements, supra note 28, at 3–4.

[46] Id. at 1.

[47] Id. at 6–10.

[48] See BCBS, Operational risk – Revisions to the Simpler Approaches – Consultative Document (Oct. 2014), at 5–6.

[49] For details, see BCBS, Standardised Measurement Approach for Operational Risk, supra note 29.

[50] Id. at 3–7.

[51] The legal risk is the risk arising from the potential of negative lawsuits, unenforceable contracts, or adverse judgments on the viability of credit institutions. As the cases of Deutsche Bank and other major banks over the last few years demonstrate, this risk can be substantial and can erode the resilience of regulatory capital. For example, in the case of the penalty issued by the Federal Reserve against Deutsche Bank over its mortgage backed-securities and how the full amount of the penalty may affect the bank’s capital requirements, see Fabio Benedetti Valentini, French Lawmakers Say Deutsche Bank U.S. Fine Could Cause Crisis, Bloomberg (Oct. 5, 2016), available at http://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2016-10-05/french-lawmakers-say-deutsche-bank-u-s-fine-could-cause-crisis (last visited Oct. 14, 2016).

[52] It is important to note that the FSB published a report on misconduct risk in November 2015 that sets forth a number of principles for mitigating this risk that might become part of the Basel IV framework. FSB, Measure to Reduce Misconduct Risk, Second Report (Sept. 1, 2016).

[53] In the Internal Capital Adequacy Assessment Process (“ICAAP”), credit institutions are already required to consider non-quantifiable risks related to environmental and climate externalities. However, the need to improve the understanding of climate risk and its related management is today a cornerstone of risk management practice developments. For this reason, a number of studies have been published at the international level on how to deal with this operational risk problem and how to measure it for the purpose of capital requirements. See, e.g., Eur. Sys. Risk Bd., Too Late, Too Sudden: Transition to a Low-Carbon Economy and Systemic Risk (Report of the Advisory Scientific Committee, No. 6, Feb. 2016); Taskforce on Climate-Related Financial Disclosures, Phase I Report (Mar. 31, 2016). For the insurance sector, a relevant survey is Prudential Regulatory Authority, The Impact of Climate Change on the UK Insurance Sector (Sept. 2015).

[54] See BCBS, Interest Rate Risk in the Banking Book, supra note 33.

[55] See BCBS, Identification and Measurement of Step-In RiskConsultative Document (Dec. 2015).

[56] Id. at 1.

[57] The consultative document, in fact, proposes a number of potential approaches that could be used to reflect step-in risk in banks’ prudential measures. The BCBS will decide what proposal is to be incorporated in the Basel prudential requirements at a later stage.

[58] For a general overview of this current debate, along with the related counterparties, see Christian Castro & Javier Mencía, Sovereign Risk and Financial Stability, Estabilidad Financiera, May 2014, at 73–108.

[59] For example, see Danièle Nouy, Is Sovereign Risk Properly Addressed by Financial Regulation?, Banque de Fr. Fin. Stability Rev., Apr. 2012, at 95–106 (arguing that the “current regulatory framework does not require from [sic] financial institutions to hold significant regulatory capital against sovereign risk, inadequately assuming sovereign debt as a low-risk and even a risk-free asset class”). Similarly, see Jens Weidmann, Stop Encouraging Banks to Load up on State Debt, Fin. Times (Oct. 1, 2013) (“The financial and sovereign debt crisis have underpinned the importance of breaking the disastrous sovereign-banking nexus – in which shaky bank balance sheets degrade the solvency of their sovereigns, and vice versa.”)

[60] See, e.g., Andreja Lenarčič et al., Tackling Sovereign Risk in European Banks (Eur. Stability Mechanism, Discussion Paper Series No. 1, Mar. 2016); Luca Guerrieri et al., Banks, Sovereign Debt and the International Transmission of Business Cycles (Bd. of Gov. of the Fed. Res. Sys., International Finance Discussion Papers No. 1067, Dec. 2012).

[61] For an overview of these proposals, see Eur. Sys. Risk Bd., ESRB Report on the Regulatory Treatment of Sovereign Exposures 106–47 (Mar. 2015).

[62] According to the Basel Committee’s work program for 2015 and 2016, the BCBS is currently undertaking a review of regulatory treatment of sovereign risk. Bank for Intl. Settlements, The Basel Committee’s Work Programme for 2015 and 2016, http://www.bis.org/bcbs/about/work_programme.htm (last visited Dec. 5, 2016).

[63] An interesting analysis of the detrimental effects that may arise from implementing a non-risk free approach to sovereign bonds prudential treatment can be found in Michele Lanotte et al., Easier Said Than Done? Reforming the Prudential Treatment of Banks’ Sovereign Exposures 19–31 (Bank of Italy, Occasional Paper No. 326, Apr. 2016).

[64] See BCBS, Supervisory Framework for Measuring and Controlling Large Exposures (Apr. 2014).

[65] Id. at 4, 16–17.

[66] The 1991 supervisory standard is set out in BCBS, Measuring and Controlling Large Credit Exposures (Jan. 1991).

[67] See BCBS, Revisions to the Securitisation Framework, supra note 34.

[68] Id., at 2–3.

[69] Id. at 1.

[70] For a more detailed survey on these macroprudential instruments, see Michel Dietsch & Cécile Welter-Nicol, Do LTV and DSTI Caps Make Banks More Resilient? (Débats Économiques et Financiers, No. 13, Aug. 2014) (demonstrating the efficiency of these tools in dampening households’ indebtedness and ensuring stronger resilience to the general macroeconomic environment). For similar results, see also Luis I. Jácome & Srobona Mitra, LTV and DTI Limits—Going Granular (Intl. Monetary Fund, Working Paper No. 154, July 2015).

[71] For example, at European level concerns have been ultimately expressed by the European Systemic Risk Board. For detailed reports, see Eur. Sys. Risk Bd., Report on Residential Real Estate and Financial Stability in the EU (Dec. 2015). Specific concerns have been raised also by the Federal Reserve due to the current run-up of commercial real estate prices in US. For details, see Eric S. Rosengren, President & CEO, Federal Reserve Bank of Boston, Speech at Shanghai Advanced Institute of Finance, Beijing: Observations on Financial Stability Concerns for Monetary Policymakers (Aug. 31, 2016) (highlighting how commercial real estate prices are inflating in US due to the actual macroeconomic environment and noting that in this scenario, “should prevailing economic conditions change in response to a large negative economic shock, commercial real estate prices could decline relatively quickly, leading to large losses at leveraged firms”). See also Craig Torres & Jeanna Smialek, Fed Warns of Vulnerabilities Building in Commercial Real Estate, Bloomberg (June 21, 2016), http://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2016-06-21/fed-warns-of-vulnerabilities-building-in-   commercial-real-estate.

[72] The premises of this macroprudential shift in stress testing are laid down in BCBS, Making Supervisory Stress Tests More Macroprudential: Considering Liquidity and Solvency Interactions and Systemic Risk (BCBS, Working Paper No. 29, Nov. 2015). See also Dimitri G. Demekas, Designing Effective Macroprudential Stress Tests: Progress So Far and the Way Forward (Intl. Monetary Fund, Working Paper No. 15/146, June 2015).

[73] For a discussion of this regulatory hypothesis, see Daniel K. Tarullo, Speech at the Yale University School of Management Leaders Forum: Next Steps in the Evolution of Stress Testing, (Sept. 26, 2016).

[74] See BCBS, Pillar 3 Disclosure Requirements – Consolidated and Enhanced Framework – Consultative Document (Mar. 2016).

[75] For an in-depth overview of the main components of Basel IV and how these rules are likely to change the current existing Basel III framework and affect the global banking industry, see PWC, Quo Vadis “Basel IV”, (July 2016), http://www.pwc.com/gx/en/issues/the-economy/assets/basel-iv-toolbox.pdf; KPMG, Basel IV Revisited – The Fog Begins to Clear (Sept. 2015).

[76] A quantitative study on banks’ structural changes driven by the Basel III package is laid down in İnci Ötker-Robe et al., Impact of Regulatory Reforms on Large and Complex Financial Institutions (Intl. Monetary Fund, Staff Position Note No. 16, Nov. 2010).

[77] For a cost/benefit analysis of Basel III prudential requirements, see, e.g., Meilan Yan et al., A Cost–Benefit Analysis of Basel III: Some Evidence from the UK, 25 Intl. Rev. of Fin. Analysis 73 (2012). In addition, for a quantitative analysis of the overall costs borne by banks in US, Europe, and Japan in complying with the Basel III reform, see Douglas Elliott et al., Assessing the Cost of Financial Regulation (Intl. Monetary Fund, Working Paper No. 233, Sept. 2012).

[78] For example, see Eur. Banking Auth., Overview of the Potential Implications of Regulatory Measures for Banks’ Business Models 9 (Feb. 2015) (stating that Basel III structural reforms, as implemented in EU, are likely to have an adverse influence on the profitability of banks due to an increase in funding costs and operational complexity).

[79] According to financial analysts and bankers, the impact of these measures is likely to be dramatic for the whole industry, as the new rules will further penalize the core lending activities of credit institutions. Against this backdrop, Basel IV could easily become a game changer for the whole lending market. For details, see John Glover & Nicholas Comfort, Banks Push Back Against Basel’s ‘Surreal’ Plans, Bloomberg (Aug. 8, 2016), http://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2016-08-08/banks-look-to-g20-vow-as-bulwark-against-basel-s-surreal-plans.

[80] For a literature overview on peer-to-peer lending market, see Alexander Bachmann et al., Online Peer-to-Peer Lending? A Literature Review, J. of Internet Banking and Commerce (Aug. 2011).

[81] However, a preliminary attempt to quantify the potential impact of Basel IV with respect to the European banking industry is made in Rainer Masera, The Emerging Basel 4: Critical Points for Banks and the Economy, Bancaria (Jan. 2016), at 6–14.

Content, Student Features

Aligning Judicial Accountability in Mexico with International Standards

By Julio Manuel Rivera Ríos

“¡Todo mundo tiene su precio!” (“Everyone has his price!”) If you ask most people in Mexico about the judiciary, this is what you’ll hear. The prevalent opinion is that cash equals justice. Under these circumstances, we attorneys must heed the call to action. To that end, we need robust and efficient institutions to discourage and fight corruption, and we have the very particular duty of reestablishing and reinforcing people’s trust in our noble profession and in the judicial system.

Since 1994, the management, supervision and discipline of Judicial Power in Mexico, with the exception of the Supreme Court of Justice, have been entrusted to the Federal Judicial Council, but its performance has left much to be desired.

From May 13th-23rd, 2001, a Special Rapporteur from the United Nations Commission on Human Rights undertook a mission in Mexico after receiving several complaints, pointing out the impunity of judicial misconduct. As a result of the visit, an alarming report was presented, part of which is stated here:

From 1995 to 1999 the Disciplinary Commission of the Federal Judicial Council attended to 2,274 complaints, resulting in 327 sanctions of magistrates, judges or secretaries, ranging from warnings to dismissal (an average of seven sanctions per month).

The Special Rapporteur was given estimates of 50 to 70 per cent of all judges at the federal level being corrupt. However, no federal judge has ever been sanctioned for corruption by the Judicial Council.” [1]

Little has changed since then. The Federal Judicial Council has failed to investigate judicial corruption effectively, which has resulted in its disrepute. The reason is simple: the Federal Judicial Council is part of the Judicial Power, lacking impartiality and independence. Here is the big question. Who should supervise and investigate judicial misconduct?

The Council of Europe’s Recommendation on the Independence, Efficiency and Role of Judges has established the requirements for the judicial disciplinary mechanisms, including the existence of a special body other than a court:

“Where measures [on discipline] need to be taken, states should consider setting up, by law, a special competent body which has as its task to apply any disciplinary sanctions and measures, where they are not dealt with by a court . . . .” [2]

In addition, the European Charter on the statute for judges establishes the right of individuals to easily file a complaint against judicial misconduct before an independent body:

“5.3. Each individual must have the possibility of submitting without specific formality a complaint relating to the miscarriage of justice in a given case to an independent body.” [3]

Moreover, when the United Nations Human Rights Committee analyzed a judicial corruption case in Georgia, it stated that the investigation and supervision of judicial misconduct should be handled by an independent agency:

“The State party should also ensure that documented complaints of judicial corruption are investigated by an independent agency and that the appropriate disciplinary or penal measures are taken.” [4]

In light of the aforementioned, the Federal Judicial Council should be dissolved to make way for an autonomous, specialized, impartial, collegiate body with operational, budgeting and decision-making autonomy, in charge of the management, supervision and discipline of Judicial Power.

In conjunction, a law should be issued based on the international principles of judicial independence and accountability,[5] where the new entity would be responsible for implementation and enforcement. The purpose of this law would be to ensure that disciplinary proceedings for investigation and adjudication on complaints are fair, transparent and impartial.

It is my conviction that through a body with these characteristics, judicial accountability would have a good chance to succeed in Mexico. Disciplinary procedures would be conducted in accordance with requisite high standards, respecting procedural guarantees. There would be nowhere to conceal unethical behavior. The public confidence in the judicial system and, more importantly, in the integrity and moral authority of the judiciary, would be greatly restored. Constitutionalism and the rule of law would be upheld, while strengthening Mexican democracy.

 


* Julio Manuel Rivera Ríos is a 2017 L.LM. Candidate at Harvard Law School and a Feature Editor for the Harvard International Law Journal.

[1] Commission on Human Rights, Civil and Political Rights, Including Questions of: Independence of the Judiciary, Administration of Justice, Impunity. United Nations document E/CN.4/2002/72/Add.1, 24 January 2002.

[2] Council of Europe, Recommendation No. R (94) 12 of the Committee of Ministers to Member States on the Independence, Efficiency and Role of Judges, 13 October 1994.

[3] Council of Europe, European Charter on the statute for judges, DAJ/DOC (98) 23, 10 July 1998. See also Concluding Observations of the Human Rights Committee on Georgia, United Nations document CCPR/CO/74/GEO, paragraph 12, 19 April 2012.

[4] Concluding Observations of the Human Rights Committee on Georgia, United Nations document CCPR/CO/74/GEO, 19 April 2012.

[5] See the Bangalore Principles of Judicial Conduct, adopted by the Judicial Group on Strengthening Judicial Integrity, as revised at the Round Table Meeting of Chief Justices at The Hague, 2002. See also Basic Principles on the Independence of the Judiciary, adopted by the Seventh United Nations Congress on the Prevention of Crime and the Treatment of Offenders held at Milan from 26 August to 6 September 1985 and endorsed by General Assembly resolutions 40/32 of 29 November 1985 and 40/146 of 13 December 1985.

Content, Student Features

Force-Feeding Prisoners on a Hunger Strike: Israel as a Case Study in International Law

By Jesse Lempel

International law speaks softly on the question of force-feeding prisoners who deliberately starve their bodies for the sake of protest. Feeding them against their will is neither banned outright as a form of torture nor mandated for the preservation of life: in fact, states across Europe and North America come out on opposite sides as to whether it is a legitimate practice altogether. On an issue plagued by such disagreement and ambivalence, one might expect that the force of international law—a shaky proposition in any context—would be terrifically meek.

Yet a September decision of the Israeli Supreme Court upholding a law permitting authorities to force-feed hunger-striking prisoners demonstrates the unlikely avenues through which even fuzzy international law can bend a country’s legal landscape, entering the Court’s constitutional jurisprudence through the backdoor and clearing the way for creative reshaping of a legislative act.

This influence of international law on the Court’s decision may be seen as an instance of what Professor Anne-Marie Slaughter has branded “transjudicial communication”—a term that encompasses dialogue in horizontal channels, between courts of different nations, as well as vertical channels, between national and international courts.[1]

The ruling also offers a fascinating glimpse into the workings of Israel’s highest court as it seeks to weave the law through the web of fears over security and terrorism, respect for human rights and dignity, medical ethics, the norms of international law, and the nation’s own constitutional values as a “Jewish and democratic” state.

I will first analyze the international legal precedents on the topic, then discuss how the Court situates Israeli law in that context and applies the weight of international law to shift its own constitutional interpretation.

The CPT and the European Court of Human Rights

On the European continent, the norms of international human rights law are promulgated and policed by two distinct yet related bodies emanating from the Council of Europe: The Committee for the Prevention of Torture (CPT) and the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR).

The CPT, in its 1993 3rd General Report, acknowledged that European states have divergent approaches toward a hunger-striking prisoner: “In the event of a hunger strike, public authorities or professional organisations in some countries will require the doctor to intervene to prevent death as soon as the patient’s consciousness becomes seriously impaired. In other countries, the rule is to leave clinical decisions to the doctor in charge, after he has sought advice and weighed up all the relevant facts” (para. 47).

In Germany, for example, Section 101 of the 1976 Prison Act explicitly permits force-feeding prisoners even when they refuse nutrition of their own free will, provided there is a serious danger to the prisoner’s life or health. The same is true in France (Code of Penal Procedure, Art. D.364) (link in French) and several other countries.

By contrast, England has adopted a stance of deference to the prisoner’s autonomy, even at the cost of her own death by starvation. In a landmark 1994 ruling, the Family Division of the High Court held that Derek Robb, a 27-year-old prisoner, was within his rights to starve himself to death (Secretary of State for the Home Department v. Robb [1995] 1 All ER 677). Despite having received a diagnosis of “disorder of personality,” including having declared himself a “master manipulator” to the doctor and suffering from what the court described as “heroin dependence, a history of self-injury and ambivalence as to his sexual orientation,” Robb was deemed to be of sound mind. As such, the court ruled, the “right of the defendant to determine his future is plain.” (The decision reversed a nearly century-old precedent, Leigh v. Gladstone [1909], in which the court held that a suffragette who was force-fed while on a hunger strike in prison could not sue for assault, since the Crown had a duty “to preserve the lives and health of the prisoners.”)

The European Court of Human Rights took up this issue in Nevmerzhitsky v. Ukraine (2005). Nevmerzhitsky was detained on suspicion of financial fraud, and after passing a year in prison awaiting trial he began a series of hunger strikes. The Ukrainian authorities force-fed him, citing a local law permitting the practice when the prisoner’s life is in danger. Nevmerzhitsky later sued the government in the ECtHR, alleging that he was subjected to “inhuman and degrading treatment” in violation of Article 3 of the European Convention of Human Rights.

The ECtHR, after citing both the CPT’s language and the WMA’s Declaration of Malta, held that force-feeding is not torture, provided there is genuine medical necessity: “The Court reiterates that a measure which is of therapeutic necessity from the point of view of established principles of medicine cannot in principle be regarded as inhuman and degrading. The same can be said about force-feeding that is aimed at saving the life of a particular detainee who consciously refuses to take food” (id. para. 94).

The ECtHR held that the decision to force-feed Nevmerzhitsky was “arbitrary,” not being based on any specific medical assessment, but in so doing established the principle that international law allows a state to force-feed a hunger-striking prisoner whose life is in jeopardy, provided other procedural safeguards are in place and the treatment is not too severe.

This holding was reiterated several years later in Rappaz v. Switzerland (2013) (link to case in French; official press release in English). Bernard Rappaz was incarcerated for a variety of marijuana-related offenses, and embarked on a widely publicized hunger strike. During a long saga in which he was repeatedly released from prison temporarily only to renew his hunger strike upon his return, the Swiss court ordered the doctor to feed him against his will or face criminal proceedings, an order the doctor fought in court. Although the force-feeding never materialized, Rappaz sued the Swiss government in the ECtHR for allegedly endangering his life by not releasing him during his hunger strike.

The ECtHR dismissed the suit and, relying on its precedent in Nevmerzhitsky, reaffirmed that the Swiss court’s order to force-feed the hunger-striking prisoner was legitimate in a case of medical necessity. As for the doctor’s ethical objections, the Court noted that the various professional declarations of medical ethics eschewing the practice of force-feeding prisoners, such as those of the WMA, “do not by themselves create legal norms” (id. para. 74).

Guantanamo Bay and International Norms

In the U.S., much like in Europe, jurisdictions are divided on the question of force-feeding prisoners on a hunger strike.[2] Despite the difference of opinion, however, the decisive majority of courts permits the practice under certain conditions.

A three-judge panel of the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals recently weighed in on this topic in Aamer v. Obama (D.C. Cir. 2014). Shaker Aamer, a detainee in Camp Delta at the U.S. naval base in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, is a Saudi national and British resident who organized several mass hunger strikes of Guantanamo prisoners over the years—as a leader among incarcerated comrades and a fluent English speaker, the guards nicknamed him “the Professor.” Although Aamer was cleared for release even before President Obama took office, he was still being held in 2013 (he was finally released in late 2015, following advocacy campaigns from the likes of then-British Prime Minister David Cameron and Sting, the English rock icon). Aamer launched a hunger strike in protest of his confinement and was subsequently force-fed.

Aamer sued President Obama and other government entities seeking an injunction against his continued force-feeding. The D.C. Circuit declined to intervene, however, explaining that force-feeding is “reasonably related to legitimate penological interests” and may therefore abridge a prisoner’s rights. The government’s legitimate interests here, the Court reasoned, are “preserving the lives of those in its custody and maintaining security and discipline in the detention facility.”

The D.C. Circuit acknowledged a June 2013 letter by Sen. Diane Feinstein, then-Chairwoman of the Senate Intelligence Committee, to then-Secretary of Defense Chuck Hagel imploring him to end force-feeding at Guantanamo. Feinstein’s letter cited both the particular harshness of its application at the U.S. base and the various declarations of international medical and ethical bodies decrying the practice in all circumstances, from which Feinstein concluded that force-feeding is “out of sync with international norms.” (Just two days after receiving Feinstein’s letter, a lawyer for the Defense Department wrote in an internal memo, leaked to Vice News, that the force-feeding of prisoners at Guantanamo is “solidly supported” by U.S. law but contravenes “international law and certain medical ethical standards.”)

Nevertheless, the D.C. Circuit waved away these scruples. “This is a court of law,” the Court announced, echoing the ECtHR in Rappaz, “not an arbiter of medical ethics.” And the law as it stands does not recognize force-feeding a prisoner on a hunger strike as inhuman or degrading. This same logic would likewise prevail in the Israeli Supreme Court.

The Israeli Law

Turning now to Israel, the 2015 law “Prevention of Hunger-Strike Injuries” is the Israeli government’s response to a series of mass hunger strikes by Palestinian prisoners, notably in 2012 when over 2,000 Palestinian prisoners went on a month-long hunger strike protesting the conditions of their confinement—including the fact that many were held without trial as threats to public safety, a practice Israel calls “administrative detention.” The strike attracted intense, and very unwelcome, international political pressure toward the Israeli government, and was viewed by many politicians as a threat to Israel’s ability to hold dangerous individuals and effectively combat terrorism. The law passed in the Knesset, Israel’s parliament, by a vote of 46-40, supported by the right-wing coalition led by Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s Likud party.

Technically, the legislation is an amendment to the prison code that permits feeding a hunger-striking prisoner against her will, including via insertion of a nasal feeding tube if necessary. But that extreme measure may only be invoked under a strict set of conditions that include a medical assessment of imminent danger to the prisoner’s life or a risk of irreversible harm, a hearing before the district court with input from the detainee’s representative and a special medical ethics committee, and a decision by a judge subject to appeal.

Most controversially, § 19d(e) of the statute further instructs the court, in determining whether to permit the force-feeding, to “weigh considerations of a tangible concern of severe harm to national security, inasmuch as relevant evidence has been presented.”

According to the statute, no doctor may be ordered to perform the force-feeding. It is also noteworthy that despite being on the books for over a year, during which there were multiple incidents of near-death hunger strikers, the law has never been applied in practice. All cases have been resolved by other means.

The International Law and Constitutional Questions

In the case recently decided, Israel Medical Association et. al. v. Knesset et. al., HCJ 5304/15 (Sep. 11, 2016) (link in Hebrew), petitioners were the Israel Medical Association and various human rights NGO’s who sued a host of state actors seeking an injunction striking down the force-feeding law as unconstitutional and in violation of international law. The case was heard by a panel of three Supreme Court Justices, sitting as the High Court of Justice, in which the Supreme Court hears cases of original jurisdiction typically involving suits against the government.

The Israel Medical Association (IMA) argued that the statute violated international laws against torture, such as the United Nations’ 1984 Convention Against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment and Article 7 of the 1966 International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, stating: “No one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment.” Israel is a signatory to both of these UN agreements.

The World Medical Association (WMA), in both the 1975 Declaration of Tokyo (revised Oct. 2016) and the 1991 Declaration of Malta on Hunger Strikers, declared force-feeding “a form of inhuman and degrading treatment,” clearly implicating the UN’s Convention Against Torture and Article 7 of the International Covenant. The law permitting force-feeding prisoners, according to the IMA, is therefore at odds with international law against torture that Israel itself adopted.

Furthermore, the IMA alleged (link in Hebrew), the law thwarts Israel’s own constitutional principles. Although Israel lacks a formal constitution, the Knesset has enacted a series of Basic Laws that serve a constitutional role. One such law is the Basic Law: Human Dignity and Liberty (1992), which forbids, among other things, “violation of the life, body, or dignity of any person as such” (Art. 2). Any law that conflicts with this Basic Law may be struck down by the Supreme Court as unconstitutional.

This Basic Law does, however, acknowledge exceptions: it explicitly allows for a person’s dignity and liberty rights to be curtailed by “a law befitting the values of the State of Israel, enacted for a proper purpose, and to an extent no greater than is required” (Art. 8).

The IMA and other petitioners challenged the statute as unconstitutional because its purpose is not “proper,” and therefore not within the scope of the Basic Law’s exception. “The amendment portrays itself as legislation concerned with saving the life of a sick person on a hunger strike,” the IMA argued (link in Hebrew) in its brief to the Court, “but its essence and ra[ison] d’etre is to break the hunger strike and silence their protest.”

In support of this claim, the IMA pointed to numerous explicit statements to that effect by prominent Israeli legislators and ministers who supported the law, as well as the statutory provision instructing the court to weigh concerns of national security in determining whether to allow the force-feeding. What does national security have to do with the well-being of the prisoner, and why is that provision included in an ostensibly humanitarian-minded law? Rather, the IMA insisted, the law was essentially political, not humanitarian, and as such “this purpose in no way justifies a severe infringement of the prisoner’s human dignity.”

The Decision

The Court unanimously rejected the petitioners’ arguments and upheld the law as both constitutional and in compliance with international law. In a lengthy opinion by Justice Elyakim Rubinstein, the Court held that the force-feeding law passes the tripartite constitutional test set out in the Basic Law for a law that curtails human dignity.

Furthermore, the Court relied on precedents in international case law establishing that feeding a hunger-striking prisoner against her will is neither inhuman nor degrading.

The National Security Wrinkle

Justice Rubinstein, in his IMA v. Knesset opinion, surveyed the international and comparative law and finds ample precedent in the CPT and the ECtHR holdings to establish that force-feeding prisoners on a hunger strike does not amount to torture. Nevertheless, he noted a striking anomaly in Israel’s statute: wherever force-feeding prisoners is allowed in democratic countries, Justice Rubinstein observed, the exclusive consideration is the prisoner’s well-being. Whereas in Israel, alone among the nations, the statute instructs the court to also consider “severe harm to national security.”

This is a curious observation for two reasons.

First, it seemingly ignores the U.S. case law, embodied in Aamer v. Obama, that explicitly authorizes force-feeding prisoners in part on the grounds of “maintaining security and discipline in the detention facility.” This would suggest that Israel is not quite as alone on the matter as the Israeli Supreme Court fears.

Second, and far more interesting, Justice Rubinstein did not treat this anomalous statute as a problem of international law on its own terms. Rather, he folded the issue into his analysis of Israeli constitutional law, granting the international norm a certain gravitational pull on the Court’s constitutional interpretation. To appreciate this maneuver it is necessary to briefly dive into the substantive constitutional question before the Court.

“Proper Purpose” and International Norms

Israel’s Basic Law: Human Dignity and Liberty, Art. 8, allows for another law to curtail an individual’s dignity rights only if it meets a tripartite test: 1) the law is “befitting the values of the State of Israel,” articulated earlier in the Basic Law as the values of a “Jewish and democratic state”; 2) it was “enacted for a proper purpose”; 3) the curtailment of rights is proportionate to the need.

The major challenge here centers around the “proper purpose” prong. Is it proper to consider national security when deciding whether to force-feed the prisoner, or must the sole consideration be preserving the prisoner’s life? This, it turns out, is a complex question—and one in which the Court allowed international law to encroach upon its constitutional jurisprudence.

The Supreme Court had previously adopted the view of its celebrated former President, Justice Aharon Barak, that a law’s purpose should be judged proper or not on its own terms, without regard to the means taken or the right with which it conflicts—weighing the value of the purpose against the right infringed is left to the proportionality prong.[3] But in IMA v. Knesset Justice Rubinstein cited a law review article by Professor Barak Medina (link in Hebrew), former dean of the Hebrew University Faculty of Law, critiquing Justice Barak’s standard.[4]

Professor Medina advocated for a stricter threshold, arguing that the Proper Purpose clause sets “‘red lines’ denying from the outset the legitimacy of certain arrangements that infringe constitutional rights.” In other words, a purpose may be proper in the abstract, but not under specific conditions and therefore out of bounds. For example, it is unconstitutional to imprison a terrorist’s family as a means of applying pressure on the terrorist, even though pressuring a terrorist may well be a proper purpose in the abstract. This, Professor Medina argued, is not primarily because the cost outweighs the benefits in the third-prong proportionality calculus (as Justice Barak might maintain), but rather because applying pressure on a third party is not the kind of purpose that justifies violating an individual’s constitutional right to liberty. “The inquiry must be,” Professor Medina claimed, “whether the purpose in violating this right is the kind of purpose recognized as proper in a democratic society.”

Well, is national security recognized in democratic societies as a proper purpose for which to force-feed prisoners on a hunger strike? The Court held it is not. The reason for this, Justice Rubinstein suggested, is twofold.

In the first place, there must be constitutional limits on what national security can permit. “National security is not a magic phrase,” he wrote, invoking the words of former-Justice Tova Strasberg-Cohen from a 1995 opinion. Justice Rubinstein alluded to a history of serious mistakes and abuses by the country’s security and intelligence agencies, a history he described as flashing a “red light” of “caution” before blindly following their recommendations to trample constitutional rights (para. 124).

Second, Justice Rubinstein unhappily noted that Israel’s law is “quite unique” on the world stage in basing the decision whether to force-feed in part on non-health concerns of national security. (It’s worth repeating that the U.S. law, which also recognizes security concerns as legitimate factors in the decision to force-feed, is peculiarly absent from this discussion and might have eased the Court’s anxiety about Israel’s “unique” law.) Justifying the law primarily on the basis of national security would place Israel awkwardly at the far edge of the world stage—and that, Justice Rubinstein reasoned, indicates that national security should not by itself constitute a “proper purpose” in the context of violating a prisoner’s human dignity.

The Statutory Somersault

The security rationale would not do. Yet the Court upheld the force-feeding law anyway, finding that its “dominant purpose” was the humanitarian one, not the national security one. In order to survive the constitutional test, then, the legislation originally conceived and crafted as a national security measure must be reimagined as a humanitarian health law. And that’s exactly the somersault that the Court performed, or at least understood the Knesset to have performed.

This interpretation of the law likely puzzled not only the petitioners, but also many of the legislators and ministers who sponsored and voted for the bill primarily as a means of neutralizing the political weapon of a mass hunger strike by Palestinian prisoners. As Justice Noam Sohlberg wrote in his concurrence, “the security consideration was among the primary factors driving the legislation of the amendment; an examination of the law’s Commentary and transcripts of the various debates throughout the legislative process leave no room for doubt about that” (para. 3).

Nevertheless, Justice Sohlberg maintained that the factors which the law takes into account virtually all pertain to the prisoner’s health: the doctor’s assessment begins the process, and the judge’s determination is based primarily on the risk to the prisoner’s life. These humanitarian considerations, Justice Sohlberg argued, “‘overtook’ the security considerations during the legislative ‘journey’ and outweighed them” (id.). Indeed, Justice Rubinstein made much of the fact that in the bill’s original draft the security concerns were an integral part of the judge’s consideration—whereas according to the bill’s final form, passed by the legislature, the judge would consider them only if specific evidence is presented. This proves, the Justices reasoned, that the humanitarian purpose ultimately carried the day.

Conclusion

The current international law, as expressed in the CPT and ECtHR case law, does not unequivocally ban force-feeding a prisoner on a hunger strike who is at risk of death or lasting harm. It accepts that democratic countries have different views on the matter. Yet the recent Israeli law goes further than that of the European countries, joining the prevailing U.S. doctrine in considering not only the prisoner’s well-being but also security concerns in deciding whether to force-feed the protesting detainee. Before upholding the law, the Israeli Supreme Court had to rework it: the “dominant” purpose, it held, must be preserving the prisoner’s life, with worries of national security playing only a supporting role.

The upshot is that, while the Court felt comfortable enough to tiptoe beyond the ECtHR precedent of allowing force-feeding of prisoners on exclusively humanitarian grounds, it did so uneasily. Unsettled by incongruous international norms, the Court was nudged toward a narrower reading of its own constitutional text—as though the Justices parsed the law with one eye on the Israeli code and the other on the rest of the world.

 


* Jesse Lempel is a 2019 J.D. candidate at Harvard Law School and a Feature Editor of the Harvard International Law Journal.

[1] See generally Anne-Marie Slaughter, A Typology of Transjudicial Communication, 29 U. Rich. L. Rev. 99 (1994); Y. Shany, How Supreme is the Supreme Law of the Land?: Comparative Analysis of the Influence of International Human Rights Treaties upon the Interpretation of Constitutional Texts by Domestic Courts, 31 Brook. J. Int’l L. 341 (2006). On Israel specifically, see Aharon Barak, International Human Rights Law and the Israeli Supreme Court, 47 Isr. L. Rev. 181 (2014); Markus Wagner, Transnational Legal Communication: A Partial Legacy of Supreme Court President Aharon Barak, 47 Tulsa L. Rev. 437 (2011).

[2] See, e.g., Mara Silver, Note, Testing Cruzan: Prisoners and the Constitutional Question of Self-Starvation, 58 Stan. L. Rev. 631, 642-61 (2005).

[3] See, e.g., Aharon Barak, Proportionality: Constitutional Rights and their Limitations 248-49 (2012).

[4] See B. Medina, On ‘Infringement’ of Constitutional Rights and on ‘Proper Purpose’, 15 Mishpatim v’Asakim [Law and Business] 281, 311 (2012).

 

Student Features

Decision of the International Court of Justice in the Nuclear Arms Race Case

By: Maitê de Souza Schmitz

In the period of twenty months that I have served on this Court, I have been privileged to consider the interpretation and application of five treaties in cases before the Court. But I dare say that, were I to examine another fifty treaties in the rest of my term, none would be, by virtue of the existential threat to mankind posed by nuclear weapons, as critically important for the work of the Court and the interests of the international community as the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons (NPT) that is the subject of the Marshall Islands v. United Kingdom case. (Judge Robinson, Dissenting Opinion)

 

Earlier this month, the International Court of Justice (ICJ) dismissed the cases submitted by the Marshall Islands on the Obligations Concerning Negotiations Relating to Cessation of the Nuclear Arms Race and to Nuclear Disarmament. With the narrowest possible majority (8-8, with the President’s casting vote), the ICJ concluded that there was no legal dispute between the Marshall Islands and the United Kingdom. The cases against India and Pakistan, which are not parties to the NPT, had slightly different voting patterns, but the same result and similar arguments and reasoning.

To dismiss the case, the majority departed from the Court’s previous case law on the definition of a legal dispute by introducing a new element to its analysis: the respondent’s “awareness” that “its views were positively opposed by the applicant”. What appears to be a simple technicality has in fact at least two systemic implications. Legally, it raises the bar for accessing the ICJ. Politically, it makes advancing the nuclear disarmament agenda through international litigation more unlikely.

The Case

In April 2014, the Republic of the Marshall Islands instituted proceedings against nine states for their alleged breach of obligations regarding the cessation of the nuclear arms race and nuclear disarmament. Of these nine states, three (India, Pakistan and the United Kingdom) had recognized the compulsory jurisdiction of the ICJ.

The Marshall Islands claimed that the United Kingdom was in breach of Art. VI of the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons (NPT), which states that Parties have an obligation to negotiate in good faith “on effective measures” for the “cessation of the nuclear arms race at an early date” and nuclear disarmament. It added that India and Pakistan, though not party to the NPT, were bound by similar obligations as a matter of customary international law. The NPT is not new for the ICJ. In its Advisory Opinion on the Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons (1996), the Court recognized the importance of Art VI and interpreted it as containing an “obligation to achieve a precise result – nuclear disarmament in all its aspects.” In the Marshall Islands cases, the ICJ had an opportunity to effectuate its prior dictum and revisit its position on nuclear weapons in light of developments in international law.

The dispute about having a dispute

Respondents converged on four major arguments in their preliminary objections to the case: i) the non-existence of a legal dispute; ii) the absence of “indispensable parties” in the proceedings; iii) reservations in their respective declarations accepting the Court’s jurisdiction; and iv) the lack of a practical consequence of a judgment on the merits. Pakistan also made an argument on the Marshall Islands’ lack of standing to pursue the claims.

It was unsurprising that respondents challenged the Court’s jurisdiction. It is a common litigation strategy, particularly in cases founded on optional declarations and compromissory clauses. The surprise, instead, was the reasoning adopted to dismiss the claim: non-existence of a dispute. The ICJ has well-established jurisprudence on the criteria for determining the existence of a legal dispute. In his Separate Opinion, Judge Owada refers to 19 Permanent Court of International Justice (PCIJ) and ICJ cases where the matter has been discussed. For those familiar with the Court’s jurisprudence on jurisdiction, it is a well-trodden path: start with the Mavrommatis definition of a dispute as being “a disagreement on a point of law or fact a conflict of legal views or of interests”, then add that a Party’s claim must be “positively opposed by the other” (South West Africa cases, 1962), and finally stress that this is “a matter for objective determination” (Interpretation of Peace Treaties with Bulgaria, Hungary and Romania, 1950). More recently, the ICJ has also clarified that the existence of a dispute is a matter of substance and not of form (Application of the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination, 2011).

The ICJ went a step further in the present case by introducing a subjective criterion: the respondent’s awareness of the existence of a disagreement. This is a major departure from previous case law, which focused solely on objective criteria. As Vice-President Yusuf points out, “the function of the Court is to determine the existence of a conflict of legal views on the basis of the evidence placed before it and not to delve into the consciousness, perception and other mental processes of States (provided they do possess such cerebral qualities) in order to find out about their state of awareness”. He adds that this “formalistic requirement” actually defeats the purpose of judicial economy, because it requires the applicant to file a new case now that the respondent is certainly aware of the dispute.

Though the majority does not give a detailed legal reasoning for this change, it mentions that “awareness” is “reflected in previous decisions of the Court” and cites two cases to support its view: Alleged Violations of Sovereign Rights and Maritime Spaces in the Caribbean Sea (2016) and Application of the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination (2011). However, the references of the latter case do not contain any articulation of subjective awareness as they were essentially dealing with evidence to prove the existence of a dispute as traditionally understood by the ICJ – a disagreement on a point of law or fact with respect to the issue of the proceedings on the date of the Application (Paragraph 31). The same was true in the former case; the excerpt relied upon by the majority mentions “the specific circumstances” of the case and affirms that “[g]iven the public statements made by the highest representatives of the Parties, Colombia could not have misunderstood the position of Nicaragua over such differences” (Paragraph 73).

The majority argues that declarations cited by the Marshall Islands to support its claim are of “general content”, and not directed to the specific respondents. Hence, they conclude that none of the statements articulate an alleged breach by each of the respondents “of the obligation enshrined in Article VI of the NPT”. In the majority’s view, the respondent states could not be aware that the Marshall Islands were making a claim on their potential breach of obligations towards nuclear disarmament. Statements from Marshall Islands’ representatives in multilateral conferences, e.g., saying that “States possessing nuclear arsenals are failing to fulfill their legal obligations,” were not deemed sufficient. Nor was the fact that the parties held opposite views on the legality of the United Kingdom’s improvement and extension of its nuclear weapons system sufficient. In fact, regarding the United Kingdom, the majority disregarded one of the Marshall Island’s declarations because it was made in a conference on the humanitarian impact of nuclear weapons at which no British representative was present. It seems hard to believe that in a globalized world, with easy access of information, the United Kingdom would not become aware of this statement.

It is understandable that courts will be cautious about frivolous litigations. At the same time, they must balance this concern against the international community’s interest in providing access to justice and promoting the peaceful settlement of disputes. This is all the more important at the ICJ given how difficult it is to seize its jurisdiction. After this case, the Court has shifted from a “tradition of flexibility” (Judge Crawford, dissenting opinion) to a “formalistic approach” (Judge Cançado Trindade, dissenting opinion), adding another obstacle to accessing international adjudication.

The ICJ and nuclear weapons

One of the critiques made in the dissenting opinions is that the judgments failed to give persuasive reasons for departing from the ICJ’s jurisprudence on the characterization of a dispute. Some might wonder whether the subject matter of the case played any role in this shift.

The relationship between the ICJ and issues pertaining to nuclear weapons appears to be marked by firsts. In the Nuclear Test cases (1974), the Court for the first time gave binding effect to unilateral declarations made outside of a specific context (e.g., negotiation or litigation).[1] As a consequence, the ICJ refrained from deciding whether France’s nuclear tests in the South Pacific Ocean were consistent with international law following French public declarations stating its intention to abstain from future tests.

Some twenty years later, in another first, the World Court refrained from providing a definite answer on a crucial aspect of a legal question submitted to it by the UN General Assembly. In the Advisory Opinion on the Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons (1996), the ICJ affirmed that it could not “conclude definitively whether the threat or use of nuclear weapons would be lawful or unlawful in an extreme circumstance of self-defense” (operative paragraph 2E). This controversial statement is the only declaration on non-liquet to date (i.e., the ICJ implied that there is no applicable law on the question).

Now, after another two decades, the ICJ again had the opportunity to decide on issues pertaining to nuclear weapons. And, again, the ICJ evaded the question. This majority’s novelty in assessing the existence of a dispute did not pass unnoticed by other judges. As highlighted by Judge Tomka in his Separate Opinion, “for the first time in almost a century of adjudication of inter-State disputes in the Peace Palace, the “World” Court (the Permanent Court of International Justice and the International Court of Justice) has dismissed a case on the ground that no dispute existed between the Applicant and the Respondent prior to the filing of the Application instituting proceedings”.

Just as the Nuclear Tests case is associated with the doctrine on unilateral declarations, so does the present dispute run the risk of being known solely for new requirements in determining the existence of a dispute. However, a more accurate reading might be to see the Marshall Islands cases as another instance in which the ICJ was asked to address the question of nuclear disarmament but found new technical arguments to avoid dealing with its substance.

In an enlightening post about the decision, Nico Krisch points out that six out of the eight judges who dismissed the case against the UK were nationals of nuclear weapons States, while the other two were nationals of countries that benefited from the cooperation of a nuclear weapon State. Could it then be that the dismissal of the cases resulted not from the willingness of the majority to reinterpret what a legal dispute is, but rather from their views on nuclear disarmament?

In 1927, the Committee of the PCIJ, while reviewing its Rules, made a strong argument on the powerful influence of nationality. In fact, debates as to whether nationality could influence a judge’s opinion feature prominently in the travaux preparatoires of the PCIJ Statute. The Procès-Verbaux of the meetings show that the need for each party to have a national judge on the bench was extremely controversial.

This controversy continued in the process of creating the ICJ. In the end, however, the Statute retained the traditional rules on this matter. The ICJ is composed of a body of independent judges who vow that they will act impartially and conscientiously. This does not necessarily mean that nationality will be irrelevant in considering a judge’s position. Previous empirical research indicated that national and ad hoc judges voted in favor of their own countries in 80% to 82% of the cases.[2]

In the ICJ’s 1996 Advisory Opinion, the distribution of votes on the most controversial holding (OP 2E) did not show a clear division between possessor and non-possessor states. In the view of the ICJ President at the time, this was “a mark of the independence of the Members of the Court” (Separate Opinion, Judge Bedjaoui). A reading of the individual opinions might give a different impression. Nationals of nuclear weapon states disagreed on the best approach for the Court to deal with the issue, not on the legality of the use of nuclear weapons.

It might be said that the split in the Court merely reflected divergent views of States on nuclear disarmament. However, if the ICJ’s composition proportionally reflected State positions on this matter, the vote would likely have tended against the legality of nuclear weapons and in favor of effective disarmament.

Given consistent failed attempts to seize the ICJ on this relevant and urgent matter, one might question whether international litigation is a viable strategy for nuclear disarmament. The Marshall Islands judgment provides insight about the majority’s views on this topic. When tracing the historic background and role of the United Nations in disarmament, the judgment enumerates three bodies with “a role in international disarmament efforts”: the UNGA, the UNSC, and the Military Staff Committee. Notably missing from this list: the ICJ itself.

Although the foregoing judgments expose serious limitations to addressing nuclear disarmament at the ICJ, resort to international tribunals could remain a viable option in the long run. A slightly different composition of the Court could have led to different results, as the votes were evenly split both in the 1996 Advisory Opinion (for OP2E) and in the case between the Marshall Islands and the UK. Nevertheless, international litigation should not be regarded as the main avenue to secure progress for nuclear disarmament. Instead, it should be seen as complimentary to multilateral negotiations. Since the ICJ decision, UN Member States adopted a landmark resolution to convene a multilateral conference in 2017 to negotiate a treaty that would prohibit nuclear weapons. This significant step in multilateral negotiations may have a much more far-reaching impact on disarmament than bilateral litigation.

 


* Maitê de Souza Schmitz is a 2017 LL.M. candidate at Harvard Law School and an Article Editor of the Harvard International Law Journal.

[1] The previous case on unilateral declarations (Eastern Greenland, PCIJ) was specific about declarations made in the context of a negotiation. See also Rubin, Alfred P., The International Legal Effects of Unilateral Declarations. The American Journal of International Law, 1 January 1977, Vol.71(1), pp.1-30. P. 4-7

[2] SAMORE, William. National Origins v. Impartial Decisions: A Study of World Court Holdings, Chicago-Kent Law Review, v. 34, 1956. p. 193; SUH, Il Ro. Voting Behavior of National Judges in International Courts. American Journal of International Law, v. 63, 1969, p. 224-236. p. 230.

Online Scholarship

Cross-Border Energy Transit: Legal Considerations

Oil pipeline in Austria (available here).

[PDF]


Book Review: Treaties on Transit of Energy via Pipelines and Countermeasures. By Danae Azaria. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 2015. Pp. 336. Hardback $120.

Pascal Laffont[1] & Madelaine Clifford[2]

Bilateral and multilateral treaties are critical to ensuring vital energy transit between states. However, frequent and ongoing interruptions to cross-border energy transit highlight the inherent geopolitical difficulties in securing transit—an essential element in the security of energy supply to consumers down the energy chain, which is as strong only as its weakest link. Because of the strategic and geopolitical importance of free and unhindered transit, the international norm applicable today places the burden of proving the legality of any interruption on the party who initiated it. However, this primary consideration gives rise to a secondary consideration, one that has thus far been rarely considered and that has escaped academic rigour entirely: can interruptions to transit qualify as countermeasures under international law? Countermeasures constitute bilateral action taken by one state against another because “the latter has violated an obligation owed to the former” (p. 22). Therefore, the question is, can an injured state lawfully interrupt transit as an action or reprisal taken to respond to a prior wrong when such action would, in other circumstances, violate international law? In Treaties on Transit of Energy via Pipelines and Countermeasures, Dr. Danae Azaria seeks to address the interface between energy transit and countermeasures against the background of the frequency and intensity of transit disputes.

The central point of Azaria’s detailed analysis is simple and well executed: the relationship between global energy demand and domestic economic growth means states have a vested interest in governing transit through their territories. This creates international power dynamics between states, which are essentially two-fold: first, the dependence of importers on energy exports places the exporter and transit states in a position with enforcement leverage against the importer; and second, exporters reliant on transit are in a vulnerable position vis-à-vis the transit state, which can again utilize its geographic position as a “considerable weapon” (p. 251). The disputes to date have largely occurred in a “‘commercial’, political or technical” vacuum (p. 5). For the most part, they have escaped legal recourse, and, without exception, have attracted no in-depth analysis or academic debate as to their relationship with the broader principles of customary international law. Azaria identifies this gap and persuasively explains its practical significance, adhering to a logical structure and referencing numerous “real world” examples.

The starting point for Azaria’s monograph is the large number of relevant treaty provisions governing transit through the pipelines included in her study. Despite what Azaria terms the increasing “treatification” of this area of law (p. 7), the interpretation of the various provisions governing transit is potentially subject to a multitude of jurisdictions as might be defined in their respective host agreement. This is one of Azaria’s key justifications for embarking on a study that seeks to address the relationship between such treaty provisions and the unilateral measures states can lawfully employ as a form of self-help when vital energy transit is interrupted.

Azaria’s analysis focuses on the two key multilateral agreements governing energy transit among states: the Energy Charter Treaty (“ECT”) and the World Trade Organisation Agreement (“WTO Agreement”). She also includes sixteen bespoke pipeline agreements, which provide useful points of comparison throughout the various layers of her analysis. The commonalities between the agreements assist in providing a complete analysis, and as the inaugural legal text on the topic, this aspect could easily be leveraged as one of the book’s key strengths.

The opening chapters of Azaria’s substantive analysis unpick the obligations at the very heart of the treaties themselves. Azaria argues that an understanding of the scope and content of each of the treaty obligations pertaining to transit is pivotal to all the questions she then sets out to answer. The basic distinction between primary and secondary rules is an important one for Azaria, recalling that primary rules prescribe the ways in which states must conduct themselves, whereas secondary rules contain the consequences for breaches of these rules. Importantly, states may contract out of customary secondary rules through the express provisions of a treaty, but the provisions of a treaty must be clear and unambiguous in attempting to displace customary rules.

Azaria also dedicates a considerable amount of her legal analysis to an in-depth, technical examination of the nature of the different obligations created by the treaties. She adheres to the criteria for classification adopted in the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties[3] (and similar to that followed in the Draft Articles on the Responsibility of States[4] and the Draft Articles on the Responsibility of International Organizations[5]). Understanding whether treaty obligations are “bilateralizable” or indivisible is key to answering Azaria’s two fundamental questions (pp. 101−102): To which parties are transit obligations owed? And further, which parties can invoke the responsibility of the transit state? Bilateralizable obligations are those that can be reduced to a reciprocal relationship between two states, even where they exist as part of a multilateral treaty (p. 104). Conversely, indivisible obligations are those which are owed to groups of states and which seek to protect “collective interests” (p. 110).

Azaria ultimately concludes that the main provisions establishing freedom of transit in the key multilateral agreements on energy transit (the WTO Agreement and the ECT) are bilateralizable—that is, reducible to obligations owed between two member states only. However, questions remain as to (1) the multilateral nature of the instruments and (2) the increasing interconnectedness of the global economy and the flow on effects interruption to energy transit may have further down the customer chain (for example, the position of some EU members in the Russia-Ukraine transit disputes). Indeed, Azaria appears to struggle when trying to reconcile her conclusion that the majority of ECT obligations are bilateralizable with the observations of a WTO Panel Report confirming that “[m]embers have a greater stake in enforcing WTO rules than in the past since any deviation from the negotiated balance of rights and obligations is more likely than ever to affect them, directly or indirectly.”[6] All things being equal, this report also shows that the members of a trade-based treaty (such as ECT or WTO Agreement) can be individually, and potentially collectively, affected by the non-compliance of one member. This is perhaps more so for ECT members than for WTO members due to the particularity of cross-border energy trade (see introduction above). Therefore, members are equally interested in seeing each member comply with their obligations.

Azaria does accept, however, that bilateralism of obligations “cannot be considered the norm” (p. 103). She remains true to this stance when later analyzing the lawfulness of unilateral responses to interrupted transit. Azaria contends that the bespoke plurilateral agreements, such as the Nabucco Agreement,[7] create indivisible obligations, either interdependent because they operate on the basis of global reciprocity, or erga omnes partes because they represent interests owed to states collectively. Such a classification immediately presents issues for states under these agreements because it means recourse to countermeasures will generally be prohibited despite not being expressly precluded within the treaties themselves. Azaria aptly observes that countermeasures would be disproportionate on the grounds that they target commonalities as opposed to individual interests and would therefore be prohibited under customary international law.

Perhaps an effective way to circumvent this issue—and indeed what Azaria proposes—is to frame larger pipeline “projects” as a series of bilateralizable agreements, as opposed to one plurilateral agreement. In relation to the China-Central Asia Pipeline, for example, China (destination state) has concluded separate bilateral agreements with Turkmenistan (state of origin), Uzbekistan, and Kazakhstan (transit states). Azaria argues “the vehicle of bilateral agreements is an effort to ensure the bilateralisation of transit obligations, which are (separately) owed to China” (p. 126). The bilateralization of obligations would allow a destination state to specifically invoke the responsibility of one transit state, for example, without it affecting the interests of the other states within the broader umbrella agreement. However, one should also bear in mind the preventive, even cathartic nature, of the multilateral agreement which, while serving as overarching framework for the various bilateral relations, also often serves to positively address the natural imbalance of interests of the producer, transit, and consumer countries along the transit chain.

The final chapters of Azaria’s book are wholly a consideration of the remedies available to injured states when transit of vital energy flows is interrupted. Although they present the same depth of legal analysis as the first half of the book, these chapters are more focused on practical applications, which allow the reader to better grapple with the significance of her conclusions. Aside from those grounded in the express provisions of the treaties, such as dispute resolution mechanisms, Azaria argues that states have two primary forms of recourse when transit obligations are breached: remedies available under the law of treaties, and remedies available under the law of international responsibility, with a specific focus on countermeasures. Importantly, as Azaria clearly explains, remedies under the law of treaties and countermeasures serve entirely different purposes. Responses under treaty law are intended to re-establish the balance between the parties, whereas countermeasures are “intended to induce compliance with the secondary obligations . . . to cease the wrongful act and to make reparation” (p. 187).[8] It is for this reason, she posits, that they should not be viewed as mutually exclusive and can, in fact, be complementary.

Azaria then sequentially deals with the different types of responses available to injured states. Under treaty law, Articles 60 and 72 of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties confer a right of suspension upon the occurrence of a material breach and provide for consequences of suspension, respectively. Azaria argues that any breach of a transit provision is a breach of a provision “essential to the accomplishment of the object or purpose of the treaty”[9] and would, therefore, amount to a material breach. However, the classification of obligations is paramount to how this right can be exercised. She goes on to discuss the relationship between express treaty provisions providing for dispute resolution or compliance mechanisms and countermeasures under the law of responsibility. Although this entails further legal analysis of the specific provisions included in each of the agreements, Azaria does so to effectively draw out commonalities. First, she argues that clauses which specifically provide for the peaceful settlement of disputes do not ipso facto exclude countermeasures, although where the language indicates that the mechanisms within the treaty were intended to be exclusive, she concludes that it is likely countermeasures have been displaced. In contrast, Azaria argues that “[o]bligations to negotiate do not exclude countermeasures as a means of implementing responsibility” (p. 193). Further, when the treaties provide for particular implementation committees, Azaria argues the better approach is to understand that countermeasures can exist concurrently until such a time that an ad hoc tribunal is constituted and the wrongful act ceases (pp. 187−188).

Throughout Azaria’s monograph she clearly unpacks her hypotheses, with each chapter building on the findings of the previous until she reaches the capstone in Chapter 8—an analysis of whether, despite her preliminary legal conclusions, countermeasures would satisfy the general conditions of lawfulness under customary international law. The most salient criteria in Azaria’s study are the need for countermeasures to be reduced to bilateral measures taken by an injured state against a responsible state and to be proportionate to the harm suffered (pp. 210–212). In light of Azaria’s findings that many of the plurilateral treaties contain indivisible obligations, the ability for states to comply with the former of these requirements is nullified, and consequently so too with the latter—a countermeasure taken against the responsible state that has the effect of targeting all parties to the agreement will inevitably be incommensurate with the original harm.

Azaria’s academic legal analysis tends to find its limits when attempting to validate the relevance of these legal findings in a real world context—a context where the range of considerations and geopolitics governing relations between states is broader and more delicate than those found in the Draft Articles on State Responsibility. However, this by no means undermines the significance or strength of her monograph, which analyzes substantially unexplored territory and is a solid reference for academics and practitioners alike. As the first legal scholarship on this subject, the extent to which Azaria thoroughly records each aspect of her analysis is likely to be respected as a necessary trade-off.

The parting reader is left with one unanswered question: will these legal solutions ever find real world footing? This is the very question subsequent studies should embrace, and there is no doubt that Azaria’s monograph provides an excellent foundation for such an undertaking.


[1] Chief Legal Counsel, International Energy Agency. Mr. Laffont writes in his personal capacity. As such, the views expressed in this review do not necessarily reflect the views or policy of the IEA or of the individual IEA member countries.

[2] Final semester LLB/BA (International Relations and French) candidate at Bond University, Australia.

[3] Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, arts. 31 and 32, May 23, 1969, 1155 U.N.T.S 331 [hereinafter Vienna Convention on Law of Treaties].

[4] U.N. Int’l Law Comm’n, Report of the International Law Commission, Draft Articles on Responsibility of States for Internationally Wrongful Acts, U.N. GAOR, 53rd Sess., Supp. No. 10, arts. 42 and 48, U.N. Doc. A/56/10 (2001) [hereinafter Draft Articles on State Responsibility].

[5] U.N. Int’l Law Comm’n, Draft Articles on Responsibility of International Organizations, arts. 43 and 49, U.N. Doc. A/66/10 (2011) [hereinafter Draft Articles on the Responsibility of International Organizations].

[6] Panel Report, European Communities – Regime for the Importation, Sale and Distribution of Bananas, WT/DS27/R/MEX (May 22, 1997) ¶ 7.50.

[7] The Nabucco Agreement was created to govern the Nabucco pipeline, which was initially planned to carry gas from the Caspian Sea through to Austria. The agreement was ratified by Austria, Bulgaria, Hungary, Romania, and Turkey.

[8] Draft Articles on State Responsibility, art. 49.

[9] Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, art. 60.

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